[You guess. Something close to him, he can understand. Clark and Diana, tipping the scale towards gods on earth, have made him redefine what he knows of physics. The world was getting less simple, too fast. ]
[ Bruce hands him the canteen. ]
How'd you lose that arm?
[ A higher healing factor that can't replace limbs, that's obvious. ]
[ More and more complicated. He flicks his eyes back up to Alan, takes the canteen, and the space of a moment or two — fiddling with the lid — before deciding on his response. ]
Protecting my best friend.
[ Concise and true enough as anything else. Alan doesn't need to know he'd murdered the parents of the man whose armored suit blasted it directly off his body. ]
[ He could have chosen any answer. There's a patient game they have going — one step at each other, prodding at the shifting darkness they see reflected in the other person. Those who walk close to the abyss are the ones most likely to lose their footing. Harvey Dent fell. So did he, not so long ago. ]
Sounds like someone I should meet.
[ Meet, stalk, technicalities. A friend is an anchor where there should be. ]
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no subject
[ Bruce hands him the canteen. ]
How'd you lose that arm?
[ A higher healing factor that can't replace limbs, that's obvious. ]
no subject
Protecting my best friend.
[ Concise and true enough as anything else. Alan doesn't need to know he'd murdered the parents of the man whose armored suit blasted it directly off his body. ]
no subject
Sounds like someone I should meet.
[ Meet, stalk, technicalities. A friend is an anchor where there should be. ]