Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman, Justice League or its characters.

Happy New Year Everybody! I wish you all the best for the year to come. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ And let's hope things get a little better this year. I think we all need it.

I hope you enjoy this little angsty/fluffy short piece.

...

"Not a very nice way to finish the year, huh?"

Bruce turned his head slowly and glared at him. His hair was disheveled, blue eyes bloodshot and there was a nasty contusion on his right cheek. It wasn't the Batglare that made everyone in the League nervous, but it was still formidable.

Clark smiled softly, reaching out to run his fingers through the soft dark hair. He watched as Bruce closed his eyes, his dark lashes brushing the pale skin of his cheekbones.

"I'm sorry," Bruce croaked, blinking his eyes open.

"What?"

"You know what."

Clark squeezed the hand he was holding. "It's okay. I understand."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them the truth." Clark shrugged under Bruce's glance. "I didn't tell them how serious it was, just that you got hurt and couldn't fly."

Bruce licked his lips, grimacing as he tasted blood. "What did they say?"

"They're worried about you, obviously," He said, making Bruce avert his eyes. "Ma made me promise I'll fly by to pick some warm food and pie for you."

"You should go be with them."

"What?"

Glassy blue eyes moved to meet his own. "You should go spend the night with your parents. It's not like I'm going to be conscious for most of it anyway," Bruce added before Clark could say anything. "Besides, the least I can do after canceling at the last minute is sent their son home."

Clark shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Bruce frowned. "What?"

"There's no way I'm leaving you alone tonight."

"Alfred will be here."

"And I'm glad for that, but I'm staying anyway," Clark said firmly. "We said we were going to greet the New Year together, and that's what we're going to do."

Bruce's lips twitched minutely. "Even if I can't get up from this bed and can barely move without crying out in pain?"

He bit his lip, looking down at Bruce. "Yes."

Their eyes met for a timeless moment.

"It's going to be a very boring night then, huh?"

"What are you talking about? With the drugs Alfred's got you on I bet I can get some very interesting stories out of you," He teased, his smile forced.

"You wish," Bruce said with a soft snort. "I had a very broad training, you know."

"Oh, well. I'm sure we'll think of something."

There was no reply from the man on the bed, his eyes closed one more time. Clark didn't look away, his hand still holding Bruce's as he watched the slow rise and fall of his bandaged chest.

"I'm sorry for ruining our plans," Bruce whispered after a long moment of silence, letting Clark know he was still awake.

"You have nothing to apologize for. It's not like you got hurt on purpose. Right?"

"Oh, but I did. Definitely."

"Well, that's just rude." He lifted his hand to caress Bruce's face gently before turning serious. "You don't have to worry about that. There's always next year, right? Smallville and my parents are going to be there then. Or we could forget the Holidays and just fly there sometime. You know they love to have you over at the farm."

Bruce hummed in reply, leaning further into his touch.

"I love you," Clark murmured softly before kissing his warm forehead.

"I love you too," Bruce slurred just before losing consciousness.

Clark smiled sadly, looking down at the battered man lying on the bed. His thumb brushed the outline of his lips lightly before leaning back in his chair. It wasn't the night he had hoped for, but he was content to stay at Bruce's bedside, listening to his heartbeat and watching him breathe.

...

a/n: English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.