[ Bruce shakes his head almost before Clark is done speaking. ]
I want to.
[ It's been the first thing he's articulated to himself as a want. He steps towards the grave, tentatively at first, then more certainly. He's not afraid of it.
(Should he be?)
He shifts Clark to one side, half-turning to steady him. He makes sure, wordlessly, than the other man has he feet underneath him before Bruce lets him go, sinking into a crouch in front of the grave. He reaches out to the glinting objects.
Pins. Cuff pins. A stylized W etched on them. Wayne? It's the closest association. He doesn't recognize them, but that means nothing. (Is he sure?) Who put them there? What does this mean? There's a low, hitched noise from somewhere, and he realizes slightly late it comes out of the back of his own throat, a frustrated non-question. ]
no subject
I want to.
[ It's been the first thing he's articulated to himself as a want. He steps towards the grave, tentatively at first, then more certainly. He's not afraid of it.
(Should he be?)
He shifts Clark to one side, half-turning to steady him. He makes sure, wordlessly, than the other man has he feet underneath him before Bruce lets him go, sinking into a crouch in front of the grave. He reaches out to the glinting objects.
Pins. Cuff pins. A stylized W etched on them. Wayne? It's the closest association. He doesn't recognize them, but that means nothing. (Is he sure?) Who put them there? What does this mean? There's a low, hitched noise from somewhere, and he realizes slightly late it comes out of the back of his own throat, a frustrated non-question. ]
What was on yours?