"Yes. I want you to stay out of Gotham. Because no one calls Senate hearings over me looking out for them."
An abysmally low blow. Heartless, practically. But Bruce's anger is so sincere, in this moment, feeling like a cornered animal. He jerks his wrist away and turns from Clark, emotion evident in every tense muscle.
"It is my fault. Because I never should have started anything. But it's your fault, too, for not seeing how much of a bad call it was."
(What's the bad call? Flying in to save Batman? Not decking Bruce when he kissed him?
Both?)
Something like panic grips his heart, and for a moment, Bruce feels like it's stopped completely before skittering on, overfast. He's suffocating, vision narrowing, anxiety holding a knife between his ribs and twisting, yanking him into an attack.
Trying to, anyway. He breathes, slow. Tries to force images of Clark's lifeless form (Jason's, Talia's, his parents') out of his head.
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An abysmally low blow. Heartless, practically. But Bruce's anger is so sincere, in this moment, feeling like a cornered animal. He jerks his wrist away and turns from Clark, emotion evident in every tense muscle.
"It is my fault. Because I never should have started anything. But it's your fault, too, for not seeing how much of a bad call it was."
(What's the bad call? Flying in to save Batman? Not decking Bruce when he kissed him?
Both?)
Something like panic grips his heart, and for a moment, Bruce feels like it's stopped completely before skittering on, overfast. He's suffocating, vision narrowing, anxiety holding a knife between his ribs and twisting, yanking him into an attack.
Trying to, anyway. He breathes, slow. Tries to force images of Clark's lifeless form (Jason's, Talia's, his parents') out of his head.
"This is too dangerous. It can't continue."