Author's notes: Slash!warning. Also, it's sad.
The doorbell rang, echoing through the Batcave and making both Bruce and Terry start. A guest in this house was rare, to put it mildly. Terry ran up the stairs to the manor, following a barking Ace, while Bruce brought up footage from the security cameras to find out who it was.
"Oh no." The old man rose quickly from his chair, but knew he wouldn't be able to make it in time.
Terry got quite a shock when he opened the door, because despite greying temples, wrinkles around the eyes, and faded trench coat over the beige suit and tie, there was no mistaking the identity of the man in front of him. "You…You're…" Terry stammered while holding Ace back by the collar.
The guest looked past Terry into the foyer of the Wayne mansion and his eyes grew distant with recognition and memory, but then he came to himself and tried a nervous smile, "You must be Terry McGuiness. Is…Is Bruce home?"
The boy opened his mouth, but was beaten to it.
"No, he's not."
Bruce had come up behind Terry, who couldn't believe that he hadn't heard him. Ace whimpered and went to his master's side, licking his outstretched hand. The old man looked grimmer than usual. "Go home, Clark."
Clark Kent (Superman, Terry thought to himself, It's actually Superman) put away his hesitation in favour of determination. "No, not this time. We're going to talk."
Terry backed up, leaving the way clear between the two men, who hardly seemed to notice him at all. He took hold of the dog's collar and began to pull him away. "Come on, Ace," he whispered.
He went to the kitchen, but only moments later he heard lowered voices in the living room and couldn't seem to keep from listening. After all, this meeting would be legendary; the two greatest heroes the world had ever known, reunited after all these years. Why weren't they glad to see each other?
"Bruce…"
"What brought this on, Clark?"
"I tried, I really did, but I can't stand it anymore. We were… You knew I'd come back."
"There is nothing left here for you."
Terry peeked around a corner. Bruce had his back to their guest. There were several steps between them. The only light in the room came through the windows in the form of moonlight. Superman moved forward and put his hands on the other man's shoulders.
"That's not true. Just being here with you, I don't feel empty anymore." Slowly, gently coaxing, he turned Bruce around.
"A few more years, seven, maybe ten if I'm lucky, and I'll be…" He sounded hoarse.
"No. No, Bruce, don't talk about that." They were suddenly infinitely fragile, these two who should be so strong, like they would break apart at the next sound.
Then Superman leaned down and pressed his lips to Bruce's. Terry forgot to breathe. The moonlight made them look like apparitions, unmoving. Then it passed, Bruce moaned, and reached up to cup the other man's face. They broke the kiss, but held each other in the same way.
"Kal." A plea, but also a confirmation. Bruce's eyes were full of pain.
"Still yours," Superman replied, and for some reason Terry was aching inside.
It was a quiet, beautiful funeral. Terry was there with his family. There seemed to be so many significant and important faces present, but they swam in and out of mind and focus to the grieving young man. He would, however, later remember Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson standing together by the open coffin, and the heroes from the original Justice League, in their civilian identities; Clark Kent, Diana Prince and Wally West, who cried.
The coffin was carried outside and flowers were placed all around the grave. One by one, friends and family left. A chill wind was picking up, but Terry didn't have a jacket. He stood just a little away and watched as the Justice League said goodbye.
Superman knelt by the gravestone and placed a hand on the white marble. He looked so much older now than when he had visited them just a few years ago. "He was the best of us. I hope he knew that."
Wonder Woman smiled through her tears, "Knowing him, he did."
And Superman bent his head and the world pressed down on his shoulders, because the man that had shared his burden was no more.