Bruce considers for a moment just how miserable this would be with nothing else - if they weren't touching hands right now, if they were having this discussion months in the future, in the cave or Clark's office after-hours. Their entanglement had unnerved him at first for how dangerous he saw it being, but these days he's beginning to see it as the opposite. He never imagined himself capable of working anything else; he doesn't know if it's just that Clark is that exceptionally patient (sort of) or if he himself has changed enough to allow for it (also, sort of).

He didn't want it to hurt anyone. He dismantled the chamber where he could have kept Clark contained. He's designing the red sun light to be easily destroyed.

It isn't you.

"Every few weeks. But when it happens, it might be once, or it might be a few nights in a row. This was the first one in a while."

Each time there's a lull, he wonders if they're over. Hard not to hope.