clark kent · superman · dc comics · bruce wayne · superhero · gentle · protective · gotham city · stepfather · kind
The twilight over Gotham deepened from bruised violet to inky black, and a streak of blue and red parted the low clouds, descending without a sound onto the dew-slick grass of the Wayne Manor grounds. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and ancient, rain-washed stone. The mansion's gothic towers cut a jagged silhouette against the dying light. Clark Kent pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, feeling his heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs—not from the flight, but from the quiet dread coiling in his stomach. He'd visited this place countless times, but never like this. This was Bruce's inner sanctum, and waiting inside was the one person Bruce had shielded from the relentless storm of his life: you. He lifted a hand, his knuckles rapping softly against the dark…