"Conner."

The younger man perked up at the name. His eyes were wide. "Clark. You… you remember me." He lowered himself to his knees on his bedside. "You remember me." He choked out in a relieved gasp.

Clark raised his arm and brushed through graying strands. Even on Conner.

"How long has it been since I last remembered you?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"Months, almost a year. Your memory lapsed… The Fortress's history of your medications and psychotherapy got increasingly jumbled. At some point, you've lost your memories of me… You fought me." Conner sighed. "A part of me, I think, knew who you were with… Who you chose to believe you were with… And I struggled. I struggled because I didn't want to wake you…"

"I thought… I thought you were happier, when you didn't remember." Conner smiled weakly. "You went to Centennial Park and we saw you there, wearing a khaki sweatshirt. You were on a bench, sitting there and murmuring to yourself, and you looked happy."

Clark shut his eyes. So Bruce wasn't there, after all. A part of him wished Conner didn't confirm his guess. The painful truth haunted him once more. "I probably was."

He was lying in a hospital bed. His surroundings were no longer comprised of twentieth-century equipment, but objects so high-tech that he couldn't discern their function. The only thing that hadn't changed was the cardiac monitor, which was letting out a soft rhythmic beep in conjunction with his beating heart. He still felt the dull ache of Kryptonite, reminding him of his somber realization.

"How did I get here?" Clark asked, desperate to change the topic.

Conner scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Well, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

Mustering a grin, Clark said, "Try me."

"I got a call from your phone." Conner began hesitantly. "I got one word. 'Help'. It was the same word over and over again, and the accent was odd. You know what I saw when I flew into your apartment? You in a pool of blood, lying on the tiled floor. Your heart beat was so weak, and you were barely breathing… I was so afraid. So afraid that I've lost you…" Conner's voice wavered slightly. "The window was open. Your phone was on the bed, but beside it, there was a black feather."

Clark's heart rate surged at the mention, and Conner gave him a look of alarm. But it only lasted a moment. Clark's heightened heart rate calmed into a slower pace as he regained his thoughts.

"I've waited too long for that invitation." Clark said eventually. He felt a burning sensation in his chest. It was a warning sign that everyone around him had had, and he had waited for, but never came. Now the long-awaited suffocation came with just the right weight, just the right amount of pressure. "I don't have long to live, do I?"

Conner avoided his eyes, but his look was painful and knowing. Terminal lucidity in Alzheimer's patients was the final warning. A momentary awakening, followed by a plunge into deep, everlasting sleep.

"I can feel it. This life… slipping out of me. I'm so close to my next destination." He said it with hope, but he knew the younger man didn't hear it as such.

Conner's fists tightened. His knuckles were white.

"It's all right." Clark smiled. "You know, when I was decades old, I dreaded immortality. I dreaded watching my family and friends pass away, but being one of the few caged in haunting eternity. When I reached my thousandth birthday, I got my first white hair. It's a cowardly thing to admit to, but I rejoiced at my first sign of decline."

"I think I can understand that." Conner's tight smile relaxed when Clark's hand came to ruffle his hair. There were many strands of white mixed in gray, many strands of gray mixed in black. His journey was still long, but Clark's… Clark had almost walked his entire path.

"And still… still the wait was long. Too long." Clark chuckled wistfully. "I've tasted every flavor of ice cream humans have managed to invent, and still nothing beats strawberry. Someone would argue nothing beats chocolate, and I might even agree for once. Don't even get me started on the one that tasted like overcooked cabbage."

His chuckle gave way to a more contemplative smile. "I've met more people than anyone on this Earth. For thousands of years I have sought after populations, looking for someone to love and cherish. I know he would have wanted me to find someone… And I've tried, I really did. But thousands of years have passed… And I have yet to find someone as captivating, as worthy of love, as Bruce."

Conner's hand gripped his, with a hard squeeze that felt most empathetic.

"If death has come to claim my life - a vastly over-lived life of a weary old man - then I wish it would take me to him… Where in death, we shall never part."

The clock ticked midnight.

Clark looked up at the open windows. The familiar raven had come soundlessly and landed on his window sill. It perched there, still and watching.

"I've been waiting." Clark whispered. He stretched his hand towards the bird. Despite the dimness of his room, he noticed how every patch of his skin was now dry, wrinkled, and spotted.

The raven gently lifted its wings and drifted into mid-air. In a ruffle of feathers, a dark figure materialized at his bedside. It slowly came around to look at him, studying Clark with its mesmerizing eyes.

In death, Bruce retained the appearance of his most healthy, beautiful state. So tempting, so impeccably flawless, that he looked most surreal. He was as much a devil reincarnated as he was an angel descended. A being to seize Clark with the inevitable strangle of mortality, as much as one to light a path of salvation away from loneliness and misery.

"Come onto my bed." Clark said softly. "Just lay down with me." His heart clenched with unforgiving strength. Each pump was more difficult than the last.

The mattress didn't sink with Bruce's weight. There was an ethereal quality to his movements, to the natural grace that he exhibited. His touch was cold and featherweight. He simply belonged to another world.

"Did you know?" Clark whispered. "When you were standing on top of the fountain, watching me… You've known, haven't you?"

Bruce snuggled closer to his chest. He didn't respond.

Clark combed soft hair in his hands, and felt feathers brushing back at his fingertips. "I don't mind… I'm thankful. Thankful that I get to see you again, before proceeding to my next destination." A grim smile formed on his face. "I've counted hundreds and thousands of years alone. I've lived my life with purpose, as you would have wished. Saving more lives and reuniting more families than I could ever have counted. And now…" His eyes took in the face that he had waited to see again. Suddenly he was afraid. Afraid that their reunion would be as brief as the decades they shared, compared to an eon of separation. He shut his eyes, tuning out his apprehension, savoring just the touch on his hands. "Now it's my turn. It's been thousands of years, Bruce. Thousands…"

"Clark."

Clark blinked and opened his eyes. Bruce's eyes gazed into his own, a gaze meaningful and wise and full of longing. "I've promised you eternity. I haven't forgotten."

His hand brushed across Clark's chest. There was a ring on his finger, a platinum ring, a symbol of love's everlasting endurance. One wave ceased the straining pressure on Clark's heart. It ended all traces of pain and replaced it with peace.

The sensation of coarse feathers on Clark's fingertips softened into the familiar texture of skin. It radiated a warmth that was unique, that Clark had not felt for millennia. He knew without question that he was holding his beloved. The man whose existence defined him in more ways than he could ever have imagined. The sensation belonged to a lifetime ago, but it was finally back on his touch.

Soft lips brushed onto his own. A gentle, promising kiss. It was as good as Bruce had promised, but still it left Clark yearning for more. He knew the kiss was set to become a lasting memory, for as long as he could retain it. He wouldn't have to, not for long.

"I've been waiting." Bruce whispered, like an echo to Clark's yearning. "For thousands of years, Clark."

Clark smiled. His once thumping heart dulled to a gentle beating, to a powerless squeeze. Bruce's hand enveloped his own. It was Bruce's wrist that was throbbing with life, while taking his own.

"Tell me truly, I implore…" Clark managed with his last breath. He needed to know. Though perhaps, at mid-sentence, he had already known the raven's quote.

A finger pressed softly onto his lips, silencing his question. It was Bruce's reassuring smile that filled his last vision before it dimmed to darkness.

"... In death we shall be reunited, forevermore."