"Stay away from my coding," he grumbled at Tony. "And you're going to fix that," he pointed at the gaping hole in his Cave's wall, giving Clark a pointed look. "And just put a damn rig in here; I've got a safe full of space rocks for the boy scout, I think I can make room for you."
He stalked deeper into the Cave, having no doubt that they would follow and needing time to decide how to answer. Clark. Stupid Clark and his heartfelt speeches. Sometimes Bruce felt that Clark's whole purpose in his life was to remind him of his humanity, and keep him from getting lost in the darkness. He could be rude to anyone, but Tony would blithely ignore it and Clark would give him wounded, sad puppy eyes.
Which was why they had been called. Because they were his friends.
As much as he didn't feel ready to talk, Bruce knew they weren't going to leave if he didn't say something, so digging in his heels would be a waste of time. Opening the refrigeration unit he kept in the small supply room for emergency rations, he pulled out three bottles of water and tossed one to each of them. Cutting across into the gym, he went looking for a roll of tape to bandage his knuckles.
Finally he grunted, "I saw Jason. Talked to him." Realizing he'd only told Clark about his suspicions that his son was alive, he briefly glanced at Tony. "For months I've been getting mysterious... gifts. Here at the house, or left on his grave. Things only Jason could know about. I had a feeling, but I couldn't be sure... until I saw him, I didn't want-" He mouth formed a tight line and his flexed his hands tightly into fists.
He went to one of the bags. "I saw him. Last week."