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“You know. You're running yourself into the ground,” Clark said, arms crossed as he tried to imitate Ma’s disappointed frown.
Bruce glanced up at him, unimpressed, then returned his attention to wound care. His own wounds, of course. God forbid he let someone help him. “I'm fine,” Bruce said.
Clark pressed his lips together. He wasn't fine, Clark could see that much, but he also knew that just disagreeing with Bruce never went anywhere. “If you keep this up – if you continue to push yourself so much – you'll crash. And what if we really need you, then? You'd be out of commission.” Appealing to his pragmatism would surely get somewhere, right?
“I won't be out of commission. I know my limits, Clark,” Bruce said.
Clark itched to take the suture needle from him and take over, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. Bruce barely tolerated touch, at all, some days.
“If you knew your limits, you wouldn't push past them so often,” Clark muttered. So much for appealing to his pragmatism.
“I know my limits,” Bruce repeated, clipped. He slanted his eyes toward Clark, unimpressed.
“It's okay to just be, sometimes,” Clark tried.
Bruce sighed through his nose and returned his attention to his wounds. He was moving on from sutures to bandaging. “I can't slow down.”
“Yes you—”
“I can't,” Bruce interrupted. “If I slow down, I fall behind. If I fall behind, Gotham suffers.”
“So it's better if you suffer?” Clark asked. “No, wait. Forget that. Of course you think it's better if you suffer.”
Bruce nodded and set aside the tools he'd been using to bandage the cuts he'd received from the last battle that the Justice League, himself included, had engaged in. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”
“Bruce, we need you,” Clark said. He bit back the observation that Bruce was literally quoting Spock. That wasn't going to help Clark win the argument. Even if saving Spock was part and parcel to Jim's response to Spock’s bullshit. (Or, if Wrath of Khan and Search for Spock weren't someone's speed, then there was still Into Darkness and the volcano Spock almost died in while spouting the same line, only to then be rescued by Kirk. Either way, ignoring Spock was the best response to the utilitarian pragmatism of that line.)
“That's why I can’t—”
“That's why you need to treat yourself kinder. That's why you need to know your limits and know when to take a break,” Clark surged on. Pragmatism. He could appeal to pragmatism. “It's okay to just be, sometimes. It's healthier.” Okay, maybe a bit of emotion. He wasn't nearly as good at pragmatism as Bruce was.
Bruce sighed. But he didn't roll his eyes, which was something. He also didn't quite meet Clark's eye, though, which was less encouraging.
“Come on. Take a break. Spend some time with your kids.”
“Crime doesn't take a vacation,” Bruce deadpanned.
And at least he wasn't trying to pass off crime fighting as quality time with his kids.
“If you work yourself to death, you know Gotham will suffer a lot more than if you just took a break, once in a while.”
Bruce scowled a little, finally meeting Clark's eye again. “You sound like Dick.”
“He has a point, sometimes.”
“Yes. I know,” Bruce conceded.
“So, you'll take a break?” Clark pressed.
Bruce continued to scowl.
“Please?”
A thick, standoff-laden silence followed. Clark hovered a little (it was a subtler means of asserting himself – an inch or two could be the difference between successful and unsuccessful intimidation). Bruce continued to glare.
Then.
Bruce clicked his tongue, looking away first.
Clark brightened.
“Half the night,” Bruce said. “The kids can handle that much, I suppose.”
Clark, who hadn't thought he'd get more than a “I'll take it easy, but I won't take a break” from Bruce, lit up like a firework factory that had just been met with an errant match. “Really?”
Bruce grunted.
“Good! You deserve a break, Bruce. You know you do,” Clark said.
“Don't make me regret this,” Bruce muttered.
Clark was already actively wrapping him in a hug.
“Jesus, Clark,” Bruce muttered, wriggling out of his grasp. Or trying to.
“I’m gonna tell Alfred that you agreed to a break!”
“Don't.”
“He'll be pleased!”
“Clark.”
“Oh, and he'll keep you to it!”
“Clark.”
“And Dick! I'll tell Dick, too!”
Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I already regret this.”