Work Text:
Superman rests on the roof top above the debris of the city that lays silent below. The carnage stands stagnant, waiting breathlessly in the post battle stillness. Everyone and everything still in shock of the event just moments ago.
“Superman!”
Batman yells, echoing across the city breaking the silence of wreckage as he grapples to where Superman lays. He hurtles himself to Superman’s side, assessing his injuries.
“clark”
Batman gasps in a whisper. Superman would still hear his quiet voice, he always did, even when he didn’t want him to. It pissed him off how aware Superman was of him at all times. So invasive.
He wish clark could hear his whispers now. Yet here the alien, the god- Superman- lays in the sun light, injured and far too human. His veins glistening green originating at the abyss present in his chest.
“br-“
Superman sputters as blood coats his lips.
“Clark, hey it’s Bruce. I’m here. You’re going to be alright clark. We just need to get the kryptonite out then you’ll be fine. Then you’ll be fine.”
Bruce frantically interjects to assure clark. Yes to assure Clark, not himself. No, definitely for Clark’s benifit.
Bruce’s eyes flitter around Superman’s chest wound, glazing at how far the green in his veins have spread, only then to meet Clark’s eyes.
“no” clark musters the strength to say, “No Bruce, there’s no time.”
“What? No. No! I won’t accept that. We have contingency plans for this, we know what to do. We’ve done this before, everything will be okay, you’ll be okay. The sun will heal you once the Krypt-“
“Stop”, Clark grabs Batman’s mask, pulling it off to better meet Bruce’s eyes, with his hand on the side of his face. The sun catches the tears falling down the curves of his cheeks.
“Let the sun set. Let me rest.”, Superman says as his hand and eyes fall. He breathes in deeply with his eyes closed, to then let them rest at the slow decent of the sun on the horizon.
“I can’t live without the sun. My. Sun.” Bruce replies as he sits beside Superman.
“Yet the world keeps living without it in the sky. Because we know the sun will return, just as we know it must leave.”
The suns orange hues drift to the purple and blues of night. As the last flicker of sunlight diminishes on the waves. The quiet calm continues until the only shimmer of the light is in the street lights.
“I love you, my Sun, my Superman, my Clark Kent” Bruce whispers to the sun he can no longer see, past the line of the sea.
The Sun does not reply.