"You're right, I don't understand exactly what you're going through. But I understand fear. I understand feeling like you're one wrong move away from disaster." Bruce thought about his own training, the thousands of hours spent learning to control his body and mind.
"Have your parents taught you any techniques for managing stress? Breathing exercises, meditation, anything like that?"
"No. They just tell me to stay calm and be careful."
"Okay. I can help with that. Sit down." Bruce directed him to sit cross-legged.
Clark looked confused but lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the barn floor. Bruce sat across from him.
"I've learnt a lot about martial arts..à." Bruce began.
A thought suddenly crossed his mind from a Batman meme in his past life, 'They would say I learnt this from Tibetan Monks...hehe,' He almost chuckled at that but quickly focused on what he was about to say.
"Martial arts isn't just about fighting," Bruce explained. "A huge part of it is mental control. Learning to manage your emotional state, your breathing, your reactions. It's about being present in the moment instead of getting overwhelmed by everything coming at you."
"I don't see how that helps with heat vision or super hearing."
"Your powers respond to your emotional state, right? When you're stressed, the heat vision activates. When you're overwhelmed, the sounds become too much. So if we can teach you to manage your emotional state better, you'll have more control over the powers."
That got Clark's attention. "You really think that would work?"
"I think it's worth trying. Close your eyes."
Clark did.
"Now breathe. In through your nose, slow count of four. Hold for four. Out through your mouth for four. Focus on nothing but the breath."
They practiced the breathing exercise for several minutes. Bruce watched Clark's shoulders gradually relax, his jaw unclench, his hands stop fidgeting.
"Good. Now while you're breathing, focus on one sound. Just one. Your own heartbeat, maybe. Tune out everything else. Let the other sounds exist but don't pay attention to them."
Clark's face scrunched in concentration. After a moment, his expression cleared slightly.
"I can do it," he said, eyes still closed. "When I really focus, I can pick out individual sounds instead of hearing everything at once."
"Exactly. It takes practice, but you can learn to filter. Your brain is trying to process everything, but you can teach it to prioritize." Bruce stood up. "Open your eyes. Let's try something else."
Clark opened his eyes and stood.
"Think about something that makes you angry or scared," Bruce instructed. "Don't hold back the emotion. Let yourself feel it."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me."
Clark closed his eyes again. His breathing quickened. His jaw clenched. Bruce watched carefully for the telltale signs.
There. Clark's eyes started to glow faintly red behind the closed lids.
"Now," Bruce said calmly. "Acknowledge the anger. Don't fight it. But don't let it control you either. It's just an emotion. It passes through you. You're bigger than it. Breathe through it."
Clark's breathing slowly steadied. The red glow behind his eyelids faded.
He opened his eyes. No heat vision. No fire. Just control.
"Holy crap," Clark breathed. "It worked. I felt it building, but I was able to stop it."
"Like I said, it's about emotional management. You're not fighting your powers. You're managing the emotional triggers that set them off." Bruce smiled. "This is just the beginning. With practice, you'll get better at it."
Clark looked at his hands, then back at Bruce. "Why are you helping me? You barely know me."
"Because you need help and I can provide it. That's reason enough." Bruce meant it sincerely. "And because I like you, Clark. You're a good person dealing with an impossible situation. You deserve support, not isolation."
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Just promise me you'll practice those breathing exercises. When you feel your powers acting up, take a moment to breathe and center yourself. It won't always work perfectly, but it'll get easier over time."
Clark nodded. "I promise. Thank you, Bruce. Really. This is, you have no idea what this means to me."
They stood in the barn as darkness fully settled outside. Bruce checked his watch. It was getting late. He should head back to his temporary lodging soon.
But something was nagging at him. A calculation he'd been running in the back of his mind all day, pieces clicking together in ways he didn't like.
"Clark, can I ask you something?"
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