Fic: The Shadowed Clouds (1/1)

[bradygirl_12]

Title: The Shadowed Clouds (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Dick, Alfred
Fandom: DC Comics
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sometimes even a Superman just needs to rest.
Original DW/LJ Date Of Completion: June 19, 2025
Original DW/LJ Date Of Posting: June 23, 2025
Disclaimer; I don't own 'em, DC Comics does, more's the pity.
Original DW/LJ Word Count: 1369
Feedback welcome and appreciated.

The shadowed clouds

Block the shining sun.

The weary

Ask why,

But the clouds

Remain silent.

Clara St. Sebastian

"The Approaching Storm"

1938 C.E.

Bruce blinked. This was an unusual sight: Clark sitting at the round, white table in the backyard facing the ocean. Unusual, as he was still in costume, his shoulders slumped.

Bruce closed the kitchen door and approached the table, taking the other seat. He was dressed in his pajamas and bathrobe, having just tumbled out of bed. The day was cloudy.

Close up he could see the smudges of soot on his lover's costume and smell smoke. Clark's hair was missed, and stubble was starting to show on his face. His eyes looked weary.

"Rough night?" Bruce asked.

"The roughest." Clark's voice was scratchy from the smoke.

Bruce squeezed Clark's arm. Clark smiled faintly.

"Want something to eat?" Clark was always hungry.

Clark rubbed his face, smearing the soot. "I think I'll take a shower."

Clark refusing food? This was serious!

Clark stood, staring at the ocean with tired eyes for a moment, then went inside.

Bruce stayed at the table. After a hot shower, Clark would feel better. And he would be ready to eat. He watched a seagull spear a fish with its beak and fly away, chased by other seagulls. A fishing boat putt-putted by, a flock of seagulls following it.

Everyone's hungry.

Bruce rose and went into the kitchen. Alfred and Dick were out grocery shopping. Bruce checked the cupboards. Mostly cereal. He checked the refrigerator. A head of lettuce on its last legs and half a pint of blueberries. No wonder Alfred had insisted on shopping first thing today.

There was a bottle of orange juice, half-empty but still good. Water bottles, too, and one vine tomato still in good shape. The freezer held boxes of Eggo waffles, turkey sausages and two pizzas-for-one.

Well, maybe the waffles will appeal to Clark. After all, he likes just about anything.

Dick loved Eggos, so Alfred made sure there was always at least one box in the freezer. He liked Alfred's homemade waffles, of course, but popping a couple of Eggos in the toaster and spreading Land O'Lakes butter on top made for a quick-but-satisfying breakfast before school.

Bruce set a pot of coffee brewing and went upstairs. The shower shut off in the bathroom adjoining the master bedroom and Clark emerged clad in a towel while using another one to dry his hair. He seemed to sparkle from his shower, looking refreshed.

Except his eyes still looked weary.

"So, Alfred and Dick will be back soon, replenishing the larder, but we've got cereal or Eggos or even the fixings for a salad, if you like."

"No, thanks, I'm not hungry."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You feeling okay?"

"Just tired. I think I'll hit the sack."

Clouds still blocked the sun, a chill breeze blowing inland.

"Okay."

Clark started to remove his towel and froze, listening to something only he could hear.

Bruce lifted a hand. "Supergirl or J'onn will take care of it. If they'll really need you, they'll contact you." Bruce activated his JLA comm and J'onn was given the details by Clark, who wavered for a moment, then gave in and climbed into bed.

"Sleeping in the buff? You tempt me."

Clark let out a wan chuckle and stretched out, putting his head on the pillow. Bruce pulled up the sheet and blanket to cover him.

"There, all tucked in."

"Since when did you become all nurturing?"

"I've had a good example for years."

Clark closed his eyes with a little smile and sighed. 

Bruce left the bedroom and heard the car drive up. He went outside and helped unload the groceries. Once inside he cautioned Dick to be quiet.

"Clark's upstairs sleeping."

"He'll be down once he smells the bacon cooking," Dick said confidently.

"Scrambled eggs and bacon suit you, sir?" asked Alfred.

"Absolutely, Alfred."

"Me, too," said Dick.

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you already have Eggos for breakfast?"

"That was two hours ago!"

Bruce shook his head while Alfred smiled. Considering that Dick burned off calories with his constant movement, a second breakfast wouldn't hurt the boy.

He's got a Kryptonian metabolism, he thought wryly.

Alfred started cooking after the three of them had put away the groceries. Dick set the table as the eggs bubbled and the bacon sizzled. Dick kept glancing at the kitchen doorway, expecting to see Clark, but they sat down at the table and Clark did not show up.

Alfred had added toast and ate a slice. He put orange marmalade on the toast while Bruce and Dick chose strawberry jam. 

After breakfast Dick helped Alfred clean up while Bruce went upstairs to shower and dress. He checked on Clark, who was deeply asleep.

Good. He must really need it.

A half hour later Bruce came downstairs. Dick put away the dishtowel and asked, "Is Clark still sleeping?" He was clearly concerned.

"Yes."

The boy frowned. "Did he have an encounter with Green Kryptonite?"

"Not that he mentioned."

Dick blew out an exasperated breath. "You need to find out what's wrong with him."

"He needs his sleep."

Dick looked unconvinced. Alfred glanced at Bruce but said nothing.

"Why are you so concerned?" Bruce asked Dick.

"If bacon doesn't bring him down, nothing will."

"Quite so, Master Dick."

Bruce was worried, but he was unsure about what to do. He really did think that Clark needed sleep above all.

"I'll talk to him when he gets up."

Lunchtime arrived and Clark still slept. Alfred served chicken salad sandwiches with chives and tomatoes and dill pickles on the side.

Halfway through lunch, Clark appeared in the doorway in a blue bathrobe and slippers, his hair mussed.

"Ah, would you care for a sandwich, Master Clark?" asked Alfred.

"No, thanks, Alfred." Clark shuffled outside.

It was silent in the kitchen. Bruce put down his half-eaten sandwich and went outside, joining his lover at the table. 

Clark still looked weary despite his nap. Bruce's worry made his voice sharper than intended. "What's wrong?"

Clark fluttered his hand. "Everything."

"Everything?" Bruce was surprised. Clark the optimist would never say such a thing.

"Everything," Clark said with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead. "Damned headache."

Another surprise. Clark rarely swore.

"Talk to me." Bruce was aware of the irony of him wanting someone to talk since he rarely did without someone insisting he did (even Alfred could apply pressure in a typically low-key British way), but Clark was a talker when he was upset.

"I feel like no matter what I do, nothing changes."

Bruce's heart sank. Definitely not a Clark-ian attitude.

"That's not true. Superman gives people hope."

"Do I? I mean, do the lives of people actually improve because I stop a bank robbery or stop the latest giant robot from terrorizing downtown Metropolis?"

"Well, yes, they do."

Clark looked surprised at the answer. "I just feel that I'm fighting a losing battle."

"Like Hercules and the cleaning of the Augean stables?"

Clark almost smiled. "More like Sisyphus and the boulder."

"Okay." Bruce regarded his friend and lover curiously. "Did something specific happen?"

Clark shook his head. "Just a general feeling."

"Maybe it's time for a trip to the sun."

Clark smiled briefly. "I will, but that only takes care of me physically."

Bruce went into thinking mode. "You need a vacation."

"Superman usually doesn't take vacations."

"Well, this Superman is going on one. We'll set it up with the Justice League so that you and I don't have to be on call unless the Earth is invaded by aliens." Bruce coughed. "Present company excepted."

Clark shook his head. "This from a man who has to be pried from Gotham."

"C'mon, have some lunch. Chicken salad sandwiches." He pointed skyward. "Then a trip to the sun."

"You sound like my mother. Food cures all."

"Couldn't hurt."

Clark shook his head again. "Okay."

Bruce was satisfied. Clark might still be down in the dumps but a vacation could help. He would see to it.

Bruce put his arms around Clark's shoulders as they went inside the house.

Sometimes even a Superman just needs to rest. 

 

 

 

 

 

This story can also be read on AO3.