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Bruce locked the manor doors behind him and let the emptiness of the manor wash over him.
He thought he’d get used to it, eventually. It seemed that almost everyone who’d come through the manor doors would have to leave eventually. Dick, Jason, Tim, even Cass and Steph. Though Damian hadn’t left yet, he spent most of his nights out on patrol, rarely returning to the manor for anything other than Batman business. As proud as Bruce was of his proteges, their absences still pained him.
Even Alfred, whom the Robins had liked to joke might as well have been immortal, had his time. Bruce had never truly recovered from that.
Throughout all this time, through everyone coming and going from the Wayne Manor, Clark had stuck by Bruce’s side. Yes, the Justice League had sympathized with Bruce and offered their support, but none so much as Clark. He was Bruce’s rock, always there for his partner. Even as Bruce had gotten older and begun to worry about his looks, Clark had insisted that he loved Bruce just as he was. Bruce couldn’t have married a better man.
And now, Clark was gone. He’d gone to space for some mission, God knows what he was doing, and just… never returned. Not a hint of him on Earth, just fleeting rumors which led to dead ends. There was no sign of him for months.
Bruce slumped back against the doors, sliding down to the floor. The silence seemed to echo around him until his ears rang. In his younger days, he’d taken pride on saying that “Batman works alone.” But he wasn’t Batman anymore, and he couldn’t stand being alone.
Bruce curled one knee up to his chest and let his head fall forward. He had to try and force himself to forget. Forget Clark’s sunshine smile that warmed Bruce’s heart. Forget how, even in the middle of battle, Superman still cared for him. Forget the feeling of his hands on Bruce’s skin. Forget the sound of his beautiful laugh, the timbre of his voice, the way the wind whipped around him as he flew past-
wait.
That last sound… that was too clear to be just a memory.
Bruce lifted his head and listened closely. He could’ve sworn he heard something rushing past the manor, something big. When he couldn’t hear it anymore, he shook his head and scolded himself.
“Just a bird or something,” he said. “Probably a goose.”
He couldn’t keep wallowing in his own pity all night. He had to sleep, not to mention, his back was hurting from sitting against the doors. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet and swept the dust from his pants.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Bruce froze.
That wasn’t in his head.
Who the hell was knocking on his door this late? His mind immediately jumped to burglars, but no burglar would be insane enough to knock before breaking in. Was it one of the Robins? But surely they would’ve announced if they were paying a visit? And if it were Damian, he would’ve just entered through the batcave.
A muffled voice spoke up from the other side.
"Bruce?”
That’s impossible.
Bruce turned around to face the door. Hope wrestled with denial deep in his chest, his body telling him to both open the door and ignore the voice on the other side, that it was all in his head.
It was Bruce’s deeply instilled sense of “fuck it all” that won over, that said, “Just open the doors, and if there’s no one there, there’s no one there. But you have to at least try.”
So, fumbling with the locks, his hands shaky, Bruce slowly opened the manor doors.
Before a dumbstruck bruce, his whole body shining beneath the starlight, stood a man risen from the dead. Though his hair had begun graying at the temples, and he’d started developing a bit of a beard, there was no mistaking that sculpted marble body, that costume, the cape. The black hair with the little curl in the center of his forehead. And those eyes, those incredibly blue eyes that overflowed with gentle strength.
“Hi there, Bruce,” Clark Wayne-Kent said, a kind smile on his face. “It’s been a while.”
Bruce took a step back, his eyes wide open, his jaw hanging open slightly. Clark awkwardly chuckled and said, “What’s wrong, B? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The words in Bruce’s head fought to get past his lips. Part of him wanted to blurt out how much he’d missed Clark for all those months. Part of him wanted to yell and shout at Clark, angry that he’d been gone all those months, leading Bruce to believe he was gone for good, how could he!
But the words died as soon as he tried to speak them. He stammered, stumbling over the starts of sentences, then gave up trying to speak and rushed into Clark’s open arms, collapsing against his husband as he started to sob.
“Shhhh, it’s alright, I’m right here now,” Clark said, gently rubbing circles on Bruce’s back. He tried keeping his voice level, but Bruce could tell he was struggling.
“Where were you?” Bruce whisper-shouted. “i thought you were- i thought-”
"I got a little lost at sea, that’s all,” Clark reassured him. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get into contact with you. But you know I’ll always fight like hell to come back home to you.”
Bruce felt a giddy smile start to grow on his face. Clark pulled Bruce up to face him and said, “Hey, look at me, sweetheart. I’m right here, alright? I’m back. I’m home.”
Bruce tried in vain to wipe the tears from his face. As he attempted to murmur out an apology, Clark pulled him in and kissed him. Bruce felt relief and a frantic hunger for more coursing through his veins, like he’d been drowning for the past few months and had finally been able to lift his head for air above the surface of a turbulent sea.
When the two pulled away from each other, Bruce shook his head and said, “God, look at me. I’m a mess.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Clark said. “You’re as handsome as the day I left.”
Bruce chuckled. “Is that a good thing?”
“That’s a very good thing,” Clark smirked, kissing Bruce again. “My wonderful, handsome Bruce, I missed you up there.”
"I can see that,” Bruce smiled as they kissed again.
“Come on now, honey,” Clark said lowly, his voice rumbling in Bruce’s ear. “Why don’t I show you how much I missed you?”
Bruce laughed and shook his head, as if to say, That’s what your mind jumps to, huh? Clark just responded with another eager kiss.
Bruce looked up to the sky and whispered a silent thank you to the stars for bringing Clark back to him, then disappeared back into the manor, still clinging onto Clark as if he never wanted to let go again.
Clark was home.
Clark was home.
“Thank you.”
With shortness of breath
I’ll try to explain the infinite
How rare and beautiful
It truly is that we exist