Clark's expression flickers, initially, hesitating like he wants to say more, like that's not what I meant, for instance. Stills this impulse. He's been here before, helpless in the face of worry. He's survived a nuclear warhead detonating virtually up his ass in the vacuum of space. But being unafraid of everything never seems to help.

Sometimes it makes it worse. And that he's been here before, helpless in the face of worry, is something he's only ever associated with Lois Lane--

He wishes they were closer. That he could just make it right, with his hands.

"I'm not sorry I came in," he says, and approaches anyway. "I know you can handle yourself, you're--" A sigh out, like he can't articulate what he thinks Bruce is, capability distilled. Not invincible, but impossible. "It looked like ambush from where I was flying, so I responded. But I'm sorry that I-- I'm sorry I scared you."

He doesn't say, it won't happen again. He'd like it to not happen again. It could easily happen again.