[Super Bat][BVS]Under the Kansas sky

"Do you think he can make it? Oh! Sandwiches!" Dick pounced on the plate of late-night snacks as soon as he walked in the door after returning from night patrol.

"Master Bruce can deal with the lunatics in Arkham, so he can naturally deal with the small compensation." Alfred poured him a cup of hot milk.

"It seems that you have great confidence in him, Alf." Dick said with his mouth full.

"Please swallow the food before you speak, Master Dick." Alfred picked up the toolbox and began to check the damage of Dick's motorcycle.

While tightening a screw, Alfred heard the sound of the cup being put down, and he didn't wait for the sound of the seat wheel sliding.He hesitated holding the wrench, but chose to continue working.

"Master Dick, don't you need to go back to Bludhaven?" He moved methodically, his tone as casual as possible.

"I just watched the surveillance over there, and I don't think I need to rush back for now." Dick came over and sat on the floor next to him. He didn't say anything, just fiddled with various items in the toolbox.

Alfred finally stopped working. He put down the wrench and stood up straight, wiping the wet palms on his overalls.Dick was still sitting there, and for a moment there was only the sound of the dark messengers flapping their wings in the Batcave.

"Is this going to be the same in the end?" Dick's fingers rubbed against a small scratch on the car's body.

"Maybe. If only he could let go."

The old man looked into the darkness, and the sleeping bats opened their eyes.

"Clark didn't mention you."

By the time Bruce got his mind back from the damn briefcase, the morning news was over, and some old songs from the 60s were playing on the radio. The announcer who was in charge of the broadcast was obviously a Beatles fan, and he came back just in time Sandwiched between "Hey Jude" and "Don'tletmedown".

"That's because we're not very... close." Rather, it should be hostile.

"Oh, sorry I didn't know..."

"No, it's okay Ken-Martha, I'm sorry..." Bruce didn't finish, he just gestured. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the... funeral."

"Oh, it's okay, child." Martha hooked the corners of her lips, and she put down her glass and gathered the shawl around her body. "If you need me to take you to his—"

"No, not for now."

Bruce's hands were clasped together, he kept rubbing his thumbnails, the corners of his mouth were tensed, and after a moment of silence, he seemed to have finally made up his mind.He got up and took the dirty briefcase, pulled out the dozen thin A4 papers and put them on the table.

"Actually, that's what I'm here for."

Martha picked up the papers and looked at them, then put them down immediately.

"I didn't know you were a Wayne Co. employee." Her smile faded, pushing the document away.

"I'm sorry I just..."

"You just didn't mention it." Martha stood up from her chair, and she walked to the kitchen door, away from the dining table.

"Uh...I..." Bruce rubbed his fingers together awkwardly, and then he said it all in one breath. "I just hope you will accept this compensation payment."

"No, I don't need it." Martha pursed her lips.

"It's just a... sympathy, as his unexpected—"

"I know what it is, and I said I don't need it."

"That's what was done to him too..."

"Commendation?" Martha's voice rose. "Using these... using these to... yes, you don't know who he is, and you'll never know what he's done, or what he paid for it. You can't see He, you can only see him as Clark or s- or whatever. So you feel that a few words of consolation, some recognition, plus some money will do... just do... I don't believe there is any A mother wants to be told over and over that your son is dead, especially when she has to go to the bank with those damn papers and tell those people to tell them my son is dead!!"

Martha's shoulders slumped, she rubbed her temple with one hand, and turned her head away from looking at Bruce: "I'm sorry I'm so excited, but I think it's time for you to leave."

"Mrs. Kent—"

"Please, leave."

"……please take care."

Bruce took one last look at the room as he crossed the threshold, then lowered his eyes and quickly disappeared out the door.

The wind passing through the wilderness brought some winter flavors, and there were no crows in the open wilderness.Suddenly, a group of pigeons jumped up from nowhere, flapping their gray-blue wings through the breeze, cooing lowly and going away, shaking off a few soft feathers.Bruce remembered the sound of the bagpipes that day, he forgot to bring a bouquet of flowers again, and he was always a little confused about things mixed with emotion.Like today, he screwed up everything again.

"Feel sorry……"

He should apologize, for today and for the past, for Martha and for Superman and Clark.But he couldn't say anything, only the empty and dry word came out of his throat.

He stood for a while longer, but the sun, which had been obscured by midday clouds, seemed unable to reappear, and the air was beginning to cool, and perhaps another heavy rain would come soon.

Bruce finally pulled out his phone.