Clark's hands are by now back to a more human temperature as they allow Bruce out of arm's range. A touch in return is enough, momentously enough, to quiet the rising anxiety of some kind of split between them. A small thing, given the staggering nature of prophetic dreams and their implications, but inevitable. He knows, intellectually, it would take more. They've been through more.

(Lois, unrecognisable and destroyed, collapsed to black bones and papery ash. And Clark, who knows grief, as susceptible to its influence as if he didn't.)

He follows. He insists on collecting the kit and on helping, I got it, what with Bruce being down a hand. Everything he knows about administering medical care is X-ray related intuition and being around Bruce long enough by now to become familiar, and so if he is trying to make himself feel better about the situation at all, it at least isn't to Bruce's physical detriment.

"What did you want to show me?", mid-action.