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Bruce and Clark are stargazing atop Wayne Manor despite Alfred's orders for Bruce to remain in bed. They're silent as they climb onto the roof and exchange smiles like schoolboys breaking curfew.
It's quiet up there. The city lights in the distance sparkle like the stars above them. Beauty surrounds them and Bruce finds some semblance of peace in this bubble they've made for themselves. He could feel the warmth of Clark's shoulder touching his and hear his slow breathing. It feels like it's just the two of them in the world. Bruce wonders if it's like that for Clark too or if the world was just constantly screaming at him, begging for his help. He wonders if Clark could only dream of peace in death.
"Do you think you could ever find peace in death?" Bruce asks instead. It sounds kinder.
Clark looks away from the starry sky and stares at Bruce instead. There's a soft smile on his face. Bruce thinks he'll rather gaze at that than the stars in the sky but Clark turns back to the stars and Bruce does too. They are stargazing after all.
"Sometimes I think about how I would like to die and it brings me peace. Is that weird?"
"No." Bruce does the same. He adds, "How would you like to die?"
In a blaze of glory, perhaps, saving the world from certain doom. It was a likely scenario and there was a level of satisfaction from saving people even with one's last breath. But the Clark he knows is always fighting for life, he would always try to survive. So... quietly, in old age, surrounded by all his loved ones. It is a very Clark-like scene to envision.
"I would like to perish amongst the stars. To freeze in the cold expanse of space or burn in the face of the sun. To return from whence I come from..." Clark laughs and rubs the back of his head. He's looking at Bruce again and there's a soft glow about him more radiant than the stars. "It's silly, isn't it? I've been to outer space many times without freezing or burning to death but, well, it's just something I've thought about."
"Don't be silly, Clark."
"What?" Clark almost looks hurt.
"You're a child of Earth. We've claimed you. What do you mean return from whence you come from?" Bruce grumbles. He tries to hide his face from Clark and looks to Gotham instead.
Clark laughs and it tickles something within Bruce. "Haven't you heard, Bruce? We're all made of space dust."
Bruce gains the courage to face Clark again and stops fighting against the twitching curve of his mouth. "I'll be sure to tell Dick to shatter our ashes in space after we die."
Clark's laughter grows in loudness. "What? You're not going to do it yourself? And our ashes would be shattered together?"
Bruce snorts. "Given how often we almost die together, I'd say it would be nigh impossible to cremate us separately."
"Yeah?" Clark's laugh softens into chuckles until they're so quiet Bruce has to lean in to hear them. He isn't the one to lean in. Clark is. "I wouldn't be opposed to being buried together either."
"That-" Bruce's breath hitches. He wonders if Clark could feel it. They were practically sharing it after all- "would be nice."
Clark closes the distance and Bruce thinks that this is peace too.