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The post-mission debrief went quickly. After a week in space, everyone wanted to go home sooner rather than later, and even Batman couldn’t really argue. The Justice League began to filter out into the hallway, and Bruce turned around to finish filing the mission into the computer system. But one seat stayed full. Clark sat where he was, watching Bruce finish the end of mission protocols quietly.
“Bruce.”
Batman just grunted in response.
“Bruce.” He repeated, more insistent. Bruce stopped typing and turned around. “I need to talk to you.” His voice was low and quiet - serious.
Bruce sat down in the chair opposite him. The action, combined with the tone in Superman’s voice, made him feel slightly ridiculous - like a boy called into the principal’s office. “What is it?”
“I saw you out there, during the battle. You were like a machine, the way you took them out. No hesitation. Explosions, guns, even hand to hand a couple times. You were ruthless.”
Bruce furrowed his brow, just slightly. “So?”
“So,” Clark continued, a hard edge creeping into his voice, “I thought you didn’t kill.”
Ah. It was about this. “You know this isn’t the same as in Gotham. Those things-”
“Things?” Clark cut in, the word harsh. He looked Bruce straight in the eye.
“You know what I mean, Clark-”
“My name is Kal-El.” He didn’t raise his voice. Just let the words sit differently, clipped and angry. “And no, I don’t think I do.”
Bruce just watches him for a moment, the emotionlessness of the Batman mask slipping into place with ease. Clark refuses to feel intimidated. “They were attacking us, Clark,” Bruce said, placatingly - condescending. Like he was talking to a naive Robin. “They were invaders. If we hadn't dealt with them, they would have slaughtered-”
Clark snapped. “It shouldn't matter!” he yelled, rising to his feet subconsciously, “It doesn't matter! Not to you! You've never killed Joker or Two Face or Black Mask. You've never killed a human.”
Bruce's mask slipped, just a little - a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch in his jaw. “This isn’t about my battlefield strategy, is it?” he asked, dryly.
Superman doesn’t crack. “Can you honestly tell me that if Kryptonians were to invade tomorrow, you wouldn’t gun them down?”
The silence says everything he needs to know.
“I don’t care if you kill in a fight, Bruce. I really don’t. But you do. And you don’t see what you did today as murder. So how am I supposed to believe that you think of them - us - as people?”
Bruce doesn’t even stop to think. “Of course you are.” The words are almost aggressive. “Of course I do.”
“You didn’t even kill Joker’s dog,” Clark snaps, “You gave an animal more of a chance than you would give me.”
“You’re wrong,” Bruce says harshly, “You’re wrong. I would never kill you Clark. Never.”
“But you’ll kill them?”
Bruce doesn’t respond. He just ducks his head slightly - the closest thing to shame Clark’s going to get.
“Would things be different if I were green? If I had tentacles and fangs? Is it because I look like you? What makes me different, Bruce?”
“Because you’re a person.” Bruce’s words are softer now, more honest and careful than they had been. It’s almost an apology.
Clark’s face is still stony. “Why?”
“Because you’re more human than them.” Clark already knew the words had been coming. He’s heard them before. Hell, he’s argued the point himself before. That doesn’t stop the reminder of everything he could have had and been, everything he is, from feeling like a punch to the gut. “Not because of how you look. Not completely. You’re from here. Your parents are human, you grew up in Kansas, Clark.”
“And that makes me a person. Because I lost my alien parts.” Bruce’s nod is grim. Clark can see the understanding in his face. “They all have a home, Bruce. A home, and a family, and… and pets, maybe, or plants to water, or friends who they’re meeting for lunch when they get back. And maybe it doesn’t look like Earth. But that doesn’t make them any less people.”
Bruce grimaces. “You’re right.” Clark is almost startled by the response. Bruce just looks at his own hands, shifting in discomfort, just slightly. “They aren’t… It’s not fair. It’s wrong of me.” He makes eye contact, looking the most sincere Clark has ever seen him. “I’m sorry. I never even… It wasn’t conscious. The choice.”
“I know that. I trust you enough to know that if you’d thought about it, the logic would have collapsed a long time ago.”
“I should have thought about it.” He pauses, then corrects himself. “I shouldn’t have had to think. You shouldn’t have to have this conversation with me.”
“In an ideal world, yeah. You’d see every alien you meet the same way you see humans. But it’s not an ideal world. And believe me, you’re not the first person I’ve had this conversation with.”
Bruce gives a small, questioning grunt.
“Heroes make… Comments. About aliens. And Lois and Jimmy make sure all the Planet’s articles about extraterrestrials come through me after someone published an article about alien kids in schools endangering their children.”
Bruce closes his eyes tightly for a moment. “Which heroes?”
“Bruce-”
“Which ones?” he demands.
“A lot, Bruce,” Clark says. His voice is half snapping, half sorrow. “It’s a lot. We fight aliens all the time, it’s not exactly rare.”
“That’s not fair. You shouldn’t hear that.”
“I’m hardly the only alien in the League. We have a handle on it. Mostly.”
“So that’s why Kara punched Hal last week.”
Clark smirked. “He deserved that one. Kept making jokes about how those guys made of slime had sex.”
Bruce made a noise of disgust as he turned around, sitting back down in front of the computer.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m setting up a new branch of sensitivity training. About appropriate actions and discussions around aliens.”
“We already have one.”
“Yes. And it’s shorter than any of the others. And I made it.” He turned. “I was hoping you would help with this one. Kara, too. And J’onn. Anyone who wants to.”
Clark’s mouth was dry. “Yes. Of course I’ll help. And I’m sure Kara will too, but you might need to edit down some strongly worded sections.”
“She can leave them in as far as I’m concerned.” He opened something else.
“What now?”
“I’m updating our mission protocols. Non-lethal action to be taken when fighting extra-terrestrials wherever possible. Same as humans.”
Clark felt a weight lift off his chest. “Really?”
“Of course. It’s overdue.” Bruce paused before he gave the command. “If that’s what you think is best.”
Clark hears the question even if Bruce doesn’t ask it. “It’s the right thing to do, Bruce. Thank you.”
The computer pings quietly - protocol updated.
Clark clasps Bruce’s shoulder gently. “Come on. The Titans will be waiting to debrief. We need to check they didn’t explode anything important while we were gone.”
Bruce huffs slightly in amusement and stands to leave. The room they leave behind is quiet again - but this time, something in it has shifted, and it won’t be shifting back.