Clark's chin drops to look across at Bruce as if to say: great anxiety deterrent, Wayne.

But the almost smiling is mirrored, and he moves across the room and towards the mat. Practice will make perfect, maybe, with the not overthinking thing, but for now there's quite a bit of thought that goes into going from standing to lying down. Not so bad. He spent most of his adult life unaware of his ability to control his own gravitational force. Something about the knowing, though.

Anyway, he's down, stretching out onto his back. A little anxiety never harmed anybody, right, and maybe that's what he ought to be feeling, but what he is feeling is curious. If he didn't completely trust Bruce, he's not sure they'd have gotten to this point.

Their loved ones would think they are so stupid, if they knew the half of it.

"What about if I feel weird about it."

So flat as to be indistinguishable as a joke, if Bruce didn't already know better.