A meow and a dog

Clark frowned and curled up on the ground. The wine bottle that fell on his bed dripped the remaining liquid on his forehead, and then slid down the side of his face.Clark's uniform lay curled up next to the trash can, looking as if it had been crumpled and thrown there by angry people.Now, the ball of cloth and the sudden light hit Clark in the face.

"Hmm. Is that what you mean by 'doing well'?"

Clark moaned as if complaining, and wiped the liquid from his face with the uniform in his arms, "Bruce? How did you come here?"

Bruce snorted, stepped over the piles of rubbish on the ground, walked to the bed, and looked at Clark who was lying on the bed again with a dazed expression.But the other party caught a glimpse of him coming, and just squeezed out a few vague syllables from his throat, looking like he was seriously ill.

"No, no, Clark. I didn't come here to let you drive me away." Bruce raised his eyebrows, obviously understanding Clark's words, but he didn't intend to obey.He sullenly took out a piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to the person who seemed to be sleeping soundly. "I want you to look at this."

Clark turned around, facing the wall, in a standard gesture of rejection.

So Bruce insisted on keeping his arms in the air, as if he wanted to fight a protracted battle with Clark, who was pretending to be asleep.But this time it was not Superman who compromised first, because Bruce was the first to use kryptonite to force Superman to turn his head, held the piece of paper in front of Superman's eyes, and growled in Batman's voice: "Look at it, Superman. Otherwise you will regrettable."

"What else do I have to regret?" Clark opened his bloodshot eyes wearily, his voice was low and hoarse, not at all inferior to the angry Batman, "Bruce, what do you think I can regret?"

Bruce stared into Clark's darkened eyes, barely able to speak.But fortunately, it is almost. "Your city, Clark."

Clark sat on the wooden chair and put his hand on his forehead, looking better than before, but still sluggish. "I thought you wouldn't come at first. After all, people say you're the only hero who hasn't taken off his uniform and gone into the dark."

"Gotham still has Robin in charge." Bruce didn't mind Clarke saying the word "hero," but he didn't try to correct him again. "Besides, I think it's worth wasting some time trying to find a Superman. I wouldn't have wasted even that."

Clark smiled weakly, and moved his hand from his forehead to his lap.He stared at the floor, as if he was afraid to meet Bruce's gaze, "Then what are you going to do next?"

"Show you that piece of paper, then go to the White House with Superman and meet our dear President. What do you think of the plan?"

"I thought I told you, I don't care about this anymore." Clark stood up a little annoyed, and inserted/inserted his fingers into the messy hair that hadn't been combed for a long time, as if for his friend again and again Annoyed by his insistence.

"Don't try to lie to me, Clark. We both know how much you care about this land." Bruce's expression turned serious, as he and Superman had always done when they disagreed over a decision.It's just that this time the topic has become about Superman.

Clark still didn't look at Bruce, and clenched his fists with his back to Bruce, "Get out of here." He said slowly and clearly, trying to suppress the pain and sadness hidden in his words.

Clark heard the heartbeat of the people behind him beating violently with anger, but after a while, when Clark listened again, he found that the voice he had heard countless times had returned to Gotham.So the unscrupulous Superman once again immersed himself in alcohol and endless confusion.

But sadly, Superman can't get drunk.

"How did it turn out?" Jason came over with a face full of sarcasm, and knocked the coffee cup on the table—there was a "bang" sound, "I told you, it didn't work."

Bruce glanced at his adopted son, not hiding his loneliness, "If the clown kills you, I will do the same."

"Cut." Jason sarcastically said, "I think you'd care more about your Gotham. Who cares about a little mockingbird?" He said in a clown-like tone.

The Dark Knight of Gotham put his hand on Jason's shoulder, but he stretched it halfway and then took it back silently, "I'm sorry." He said sincerely.The apologetic stared into Bruce's guilt-ridden eyes, without that annoying fake smile on his face for the first time, "...what's the point of your apology? You're only playing with your clown Children never stop playing, and revel in it."

Bruce stared at Jason, as if reading his thoughts from the other's face, but Bruce and Batman failed.Batman's perfect disguise had been inherited by their adopted son, who had just escaped from the clown's manic laughter, and now, his face was filled with nothing but death and emptiness.

Eventually, Jason, who was not Red Hood, walks away from Bruce.

A depression called "powerlessness" or "failure" spread in Bruce's heart.

"You shouldn't have given up, Master Bruce."

"...I don't know what to do, Aff."

The kind butler looked at his frustrated young master, and said in a kind voice, "You just need to persevere, Master Bruce. In my heart, you have always been the best person. Master Thomas and Mrs. Martha will also be proud of you. "

When Bruce entered Clark's apartment for the second time, he found Clark lying on the bed and sleeping soundly-but it was also possible that he heard Bruce's footsteps first, so he was pretending.Several fresh wine bottles were spilled on the bed, soaking the sheets.Bruce raised his eyebrows, stepped forward to take a wine bottle, and swallowed the rest of the liquid.

"Bruce, you—" Never drank.Clark looked at his friend and swallowed the rest of his words.

Bruce frowned at Clark, "It's not as good as I remember-I mean the ones I drank secretly when I was a child. But I think, since you can give up America, then I can give up some small commandments .I think I need these."

"Bruce, if you want to persuade me, there's no need to do that." Clark was a little worried.It had to be said that such a self-defeating Bruce made him unhappy, even worried.

"No," Bruce went to the bed, brushed away the other scattered bottles, and gave Clark a slight gesture with the hand holding the bottle, "not about you. A self-abandoned Clark doesn't deserve me. I just Just sad about losing a best friend."

"Bruce..."

"Shut up, Clark." Bruce put the bottle on the bed and walked up to Clark, "Do you want to put on that uniform?"

Clearly Clark was about ten centimeters taller than Bruce, but now he felt that he was a foot shorter by the other's menacing gaze. "...Bruce, you know, unless I'm willing to work for the government, the president will order the removal of the Justice League and other heroes...but I can't do that, so I think...  .”

"It's time for Superman to retire?" Bruce said flatly, as if it wasn't a big deal about the other heroes' survival, "but why didn't you?"

"What?" Clark stared at Bruce, who was still calm, in shock. If he didn't have super hearing, he would have thought there was something wrong with his ears. "How can you say that?"

"That's it. If you want those heroes to walk in the sun, then that's the only way."

"But, but—"

"—but who said you have to obey the president in everything?" Bruce looked at Clark calmly. "Now, would you like to put on that uniform?"

"Bruce, aren't you afraid that I will rebel?" Clark couldn't help but heaved a sigh of relief when he understood what Bruce meant. If his friend really asked him to work for the government, he would definitely be disappointed.But he was very puzzled. Given Batman's character, he shouldn't risk Superman being bewitched and let him work for the president.

"...I trust you, Clark," Bruce said, grudgingly, after inappropriately remembering the pale green glow of the kryptonite in the Batcave.

"Master Bruce, you seem very happy?"

"I got Superman back, Aff. I couldn't be happier."

"Then I think there is no need to tell you another news."

"What—oh, it's not necessary." Bruce's tone suddenly became brisk, and his mood was unprecedentedly cheerful, "I think I guessed it."

Empty coffee cups are steaming hot again.

A man in black gloves held it up.

The author has something to say:

The background of this chapter is "Batman: The Dark Knight Returns", and it can barely include "Batman: Under the Red Hood".If you don't understand something, please tell someone, and someone will modify it immediately!

The plot is roughly: the president (the president in The Dark Knight Returns is not Luthor) asked Superman to either do things for him, or he ordered the expulsion of heroes (referring to superpowers in Baidu Encyclopedia), the original Superman chose the second option, and Gradually accustomed to obeying orders, he was ordered to get rid of Batman.The Superman here did not refuse, nor did he agree, but delayed the time and pretended to be addicted to alcohol.Then Batman came to him and wanted to give him a profile or an alliance mission or something. (The original Batman chose to retire because he lost Jason at this time).When Superman was first found, Superman chased Batman away.So Batman, who was disappointed with Superman, went back to the Batcave, and was resisted by Jason again (but someone wrote that Jason knocked the coffee cup on the table, so Jason here is just a little awkward, or insensitive, I didn't accept Batman's apology), feeling down, Aff came to comfort Bruce and encourage him.Bruce, who was encouraged, went to find Superman for the second time, pretending that he had given up on himself, and successfully softened Superman, set out his words, and comforted him (is there?), Bruce and Alfred who returned to the Wayne house were connected with each other (Hey!), learned that Jason forgave him.

So I want to ask everyone if you noticed that the coffee cup Jason was holding was for Bruce (who can pay attention!)~

QAQ has not been updated recently. I don’t want to use excuses like power outages to prevaricate everyone. Although it is true that there were two power outages, the real reason is that I didn’t find a feeling or a good meme.As for how bad it feels?I started writing this article before dinner in the morning, and kept writing until a little after eight o'clock in the evening.

Well, I won't tell you that in the morning it was a scum game and I forgot the time, but in the afternoon, the game can't be played again, so I have been coding for nothing!Inevitably, someone only said that the full text of my Superman collapsed really hit me. You can see how much I have been hit by seeing that I am useless. TAT, fortunately, it has been adjusted now~ Don’t worry everyone (Who would worry, hey!)~

Cough, if there are no accidents, there will probably be an update tomorrow, and the update is probably because I abused a certain animal during the process of making a promise, but the ending is the one about the cute HE~

So much nonsense, but in short, dear friends, I have to believe that I write so much because I have nothing to say these days!Dear spiritual trash cans, give me a warm hug~ (It’s muddy!)

Volume Four: Fairy Tales To Our Darkness (The Longest of Short Stories)