Clark's hands smooth inwards, to conform where Bruce's shoulders curve to his neck. The sweep of his thumbs against the back of it. Not designed to transmit any other message than warmth, acknowledgment.
"Some things," he says, voice quiet where it originates above Bruce's head. "He was a scientist. An advisor to whatever governance existed. They both were, he and—his wife, my mother. Lana Lor-Van."
The information feels thin on the ground, as he says it. The projection of Jor-El had its priorities, but had been equally amenable to the questions Clark had asked too. They'd been preliminary questions, with the presumption he'd be able to ask more of them. Important things, stupid things.
"They broke the laws of their people to have me. But the way he talked about it felt deeper than that, like doing something like that went against something innate. Or—the other way around. But it was like he could see where Krypton had gone wrong, and he could see how much a part of it he was, despite everything."
no subject
"Some things," he says, voice quiet where it originates above Bruce's head. "He was a scientist. An advisor to whatever governance existed. They both were, he and—his wife, my mother. Lana Lor-Van."
The information feels thin on the ground, as he says it. The projection of Jor-El had its priorities, but had been equally amenable to the questions Clark had asked too. They'd been preliminary questions, with the presumption he'd be able to ask more of them. Important things, stupid things.
"They broke the laws of their people to have me. But the way he talked about it felt deeper than that, like doing something like that went against something innate. Or—the other way around. But it was like he could see where Krypton had gone wrong, and he could see how much a part of it he was, despite everything."