(\(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)/)

by the time the firetrucks arrive, most of the building is on fire. the street is flooded with patients and staff, but an older woman in a white coat covered in soot grabs clark by the arm and says dr. wayne is still inside, says he went back to look for more patients.

the building is structurally unsound by now. it’s not safe for anybody to be in there—but clark kent isn’t just anybody.

fire licks at his gear as he sweeps the ground floor, straining his ears for any sound of movement. even with his heightened senses, it takes him a while to find the doctor.

clark has to go up three floors to actually lay eyes on him. the doctor is making his way to the window, dodging debris with something small cradled to his chest. clark rushes closer, and—oh god, it's a child.

he fits dr. wayne to his side and presses his mask to the boy's face. the boy can't be more than eight, small and gangly and frightened, with tears tracking through the grime on his face. he clutches on to dr. wayne for dear life, looking between the doc and clark with wide, terrified eyes.

clark guides them through the building as fast as he can, using his x-ray vision to find the best route. more than once, he has to literally pick dr. wayne and the boy up to get them out of the way of falling wood, and dr. wayne surprises him by yanking him out of harm's way when he gets too wrapped up in finding the exit.

they stumble out of the side entrance, all three of them coughing hard just as the roof caves in.

clark leads them to the street, where everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of them. the boy immediately gets handed off for treatment, but curiously, dr. wayne doesn't follow him to the firetruck.

the fire crew gets to work on the flames, but it's not a huge fight. the blaze dies pretty quickly once it's out of fuel.

with a furrowed brow and a deepening frown, clark observes the doc flit through the patients on the street, checking on everyone and asking if they've all been accounted for. dr. wayne pauses only to turn and cough into his elbow before returning to his work, diligently attending to his patients after literally almost dying in a burning building.

after the fifth harsh cough, clark can't stand it anymore. he strides over and grabs dr. wayne by the bicep, ignoring his protests.

"what do you think you're doing?" dr. wayne asks in a rough, no-nonsense voice.

"you need treatment, doctor," clark explains, making him sit down in the back of one of the ambulances that arrived while they were inside. "who knows how much smoke you inhaled? i'd prefer we found out before you pass out into the lap of another patient."

"my patients need me—" dr. wayne starts, attempting to stand.

clark puts two heavy hands on his shoulders and forces him down again. "they need you to be well enough to treat them," he insists. "let me make sure of it."

dr. wayne sighs. "it's—i have to help. my father wouldn't rest. i cannot rest until i'm sure my patients are all right."

it's then that the name of the clinic finally clicks to clark. aw, hell. how stupid is he?

"this is your father's clinic," clark says, reaching for a stethoscope.

dr. wayne's eyes flash as he meets clark's eye, but they calm when they catch on the word metropolis embroidered over his heart. "i—yes. it was."

clark sets the stethoscope over dr. wayne's lungs, but doesn't have to direct the doc before he's breathing exaggeratedly for the test, letting clark listen.

"i don't mean to be rude, dr. wayne," clark starts, folding up the stethoscope once he's finished, "but i think your father would want you to be well, too."

dr. wayne searches clark's face, expression torn. eventually, he deflates, scrubbing at his face with an exhausted sigh. "it's bruce...by the way. i figure we should be on a first name basis after you saved my life."

clark smiles, sheepish. "clark kent. you did most of the work, i just escorted you out."

bruce cracks a smile. small, but there. clark thinks he looks quite charming, even with soot all over his face and wrinkled clothes and mussed hair.

"how long are you in gotham for?"

"as long as i need to be."

bruce nods, something in his face showing approval. clark tries not to preen. "want to grab a coffee before your shift sometime? i could listen to your chest—don't think i haven't noticed you have yet to be checked out, kent."