Chapter Text
Be That Easy — Sade
The Kents were a proud, humble family. As happy and kind as midwestern gets. So when their son, Clark Kent, won the local science fair at smallville middle school, they were over the moon. Their sweet, smart boy couldn’t have made his parents prouder. Except for when he then moved up into the State of Kansas Science fair and managed to win that one too sending him straight to Nationals.
Faster than Jon and Martha Kent could blink, they were at the airport waiting to be flown to New York City.
Nationals. Clark couldn’t believe it. Their son was going to go against hundreds of other students from across the country and he’d likely wouldn’t win this next round but regardless it was an achievement that truly mesmerized him. He managed to make something that could bring real change to the world. He was excited to say the least.
Their flight had been delayed since it was December and snow had begun to fall in New York. It worried Clark only slightly since he’d be late to the science convention by an hour but his dad reassured him all the way there, telling him he called ahead to the committee to let them know.
It was all still going as planned.
All the way from the airport, to the hotel ballroom where all the science projects were being set up, Clark was damn near vibrating from how nervous he was for everyone to judge his project.
Not even the fact that because he was late, he got a shitty booth in the back corner of the room, stopped him from smiling extra big whenever someone passed by. His parents took a million photos of everything and with rosy cheeks wished Clark the best of luck.
“Maybe you should walk ‘round and talk to the other kids? You could invite them over to see your project Clark!” His Ma said as she threw her arm around the twelve year old.
Clark smiled, “You’re right Ma! I have to find who to cast my vote for anyways.”
Martha and Jon agreed, “We’ll watch over your project here in case any judges come by we’ll come and get ya.” Martha said kindly.
“Just be kind.” Jon said as Clark waved at them and walked into the maze of projects.
He walked around with his hands in his pockets. His red and black flannel made him stand out against the sea of other kids and parents who were dressed more nicely. Clark wasn’t new to being the odd one out, he was used to it ever since his powers began to kick in around first grade. He knew he’d always be different but it still got to him from time to time.
The more Clark walked around the more nervous he got. Everyone suddenly seemed intimidating and big to his small self. It was so loud as well he couldn’t focus on his mother’s heart beat to help calm him down, not with so much chatter going on. Clark heard every single word being said from the valet outside the hotel, to the young girls giggling across the room.
He was about to give up and turn back around, accept that it was okay if nobody went to go see his project, when his ears picked up on a conversation between a father and son.
“Chum, why don’t you go walk around and meet the other kids?” The dad said. Clark moved his head around from where he stood to try and locate the voice.
“There’s too many Dad, what if they don’t care?” The boy replied back with a sigh. Clark turned his gaze to the left and that’s when he found them.
“I care. You should be proud of what you made, no matter what others think. You don’t have to be alone all the time chum, friends are a good thing.” The father said as he placed his hand on his kids shoulder, kneeling down to meet his eyes.
Clark focused all his senses to them, his eyes narrowing in and his ears perking up at their hearts beating in sync. The boy was well put together, a white dress shirt and a dark grey vest over it with a matching bow tie. The older man who still looked remarkably young had his hair slicked back in the same manner as his son did. He wore a black tailored suit and a smile so soft it reminded Clark of his own Pa.
Clark didn’t even notice he was walking towards them until the man turned his head to look at him and let out a chuckle.
“Hello there I’m Clark.” Clark squeaked out nervously interrupting the moment between the dad and son.
“Hi Clark, I’m Thomas, this is my son Bruce.” Thomas said bringing his arm around Bruce’s shoulder, pulling him in so they’re both facing Clark.
Clark smiled as best as he could and straightened his back like his mom is always on him about. He extended his arm out to shake the boy’s hand, but was met with a shy glance.
“Bruce say hi.” Thomas gently said squeezing his shoulder.
Bruce stared at his shoes before reluctantly looking up at Clark and taking his hand.
“Hi Clark, it’s nice to meet you.” Bruce said shaking his hand.
It was like sparks flew, as if real life electric sparks went off around them. Every lightbulb exploding into yellow flares, every single electrical atom was bubbling inside of Clark’s hand even after Bruce let go.
“I—I was just walking around seeing if anyone wanted to take a look at my booth since they shoved me in the back corner because my plane was late, and well my pa says it’s okay, and I think so too but you know, I was hoping more people would come by and look. But it’s okay! I would much rather take a look at your project anyways.” Clark rambled as Bruce and his dad listened very intently.
They were both so shocked at the honesty and fowardness of Clark that they just stared at him.
“…or not, it’s okay if you want me to go! I didn’t want to bother you I just thought you know I could look at yours and you could then look at mine but I totally-”
Thomas was the one to break the awkwardness and laugh. His laughter was so rich and loud. Sweet but confident enough that it made Bruce smile a little as he looked at his dad. Clark noticed the way Bruce looked at him, with such admiration.
“You sure are an over sharer son, relax!” Thomas said. Clark flushed a hot pink at the comment as he gave a small chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck out of habit.
“Bruce would be delighted to show you his project. He worked very hard on it. Go ahead chum, show Clark what you’ve been working on. I’m gonna go see if I can find your mother.” Thomas said giving Bruce a quick hug and kiss on the head.
He whispered a soft “friends are good” into Bruce’s ear as he let him go and smiled at Clark before walking away. Clark watched Bruce’s gaze as he watched him go.
Clark heard the sigh Bruce let out when people began to immediately approach his father as he walked through the crowd. Clark wondered if he was a big deal around here. Maybe he was a judge.
“Are you okay?” Clark asked Bruce who still kept a close eye on his dad as some of the reporters tried speaking to him.
“Yes. I just wish they’d leave my dad alone sometimes.” Bruce said sadly. Clark wanted nothing more than to cheer him up.
“Why are they doing that to him? I don’t understand..” Clark said trying to figure out the situation.
“He’s just a Wayne.” Bruce mumbled as he turned away, it was so quiet anyone else who wasn’t super human would’ve missed it.
Clark wasn’t sure what a Wayne was, but Bruce didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it so he opted for switching topics. He turned to face the table where Bruce had his project set up. He had a poster board nicely decorated with the most nicely cut out descriptions and text. And photographs of the projects pass experiments in very high quality. He was amazed.
The main project itself was on the table in front of the poster board. It was a beautifully hand made bridge. It was made of wood and metal. It resembled something Clark couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Wow Bruce, this is amazing…I mean wow!” Clark said taking a closer look at the creation.
Bruce stood next to him observing his every move. His stare was so intense for a little boy.
“Thanks…it’s uh, it’s modeled after a bat.” Bruce shared, his left hand would ball into a fist and then he’d stretch his finger back out, three times before he would just stop.
“A bat! Yes! That’s what it looked like, yeah I see it! The bridge looks like it’s wings. That’s awesome.” Clark said grinning from ear to ear, noticing the nervous tick.
“What made you pick a bat?” He asked as he turned to look back at Bruce who was…blushing?
“Oh um, I just I love bats, I think they’re really cool. Did you know they’re the only mammals who can fly?” Bruce said with a small smile.
Clark saw the way his face lit up with familiarity.
“Woah I didn’t know that! So can the bridge fly too?” Clark joked nudging Bruce with his elbow slightly.
Bruce laughed as he said no. He laughed. Like genuinely laughed. And it was the most mesmerizing thing Clark had ever heard. It was even warmer than Thomas’ laugh.
“It can’t fly but it does move, watch this.” Bruce said as he maneuvered around his project and Clark to make the bridge stretch out the way a bat’s wing would. He went on to explain the nature and science behind it, how much the engineering behind it could be useful in real life architecture.
Clark was in a trance as he heard Bruce talk, he could listen to him forever and never get bored he thinks.
They laughed and shared ideas as they spoke, slowly talking about themselves. Where they’re from and what they like.
Clark had forgotten that he was supposed to be walking around.
“Bruce honey, who’s this young man?” A sweet woman’s voice broke their conversation about their favorite foods.
Bruce immediately smiled even wider as he turned to face his mother. Clark looked at her and smiled. The woman was bright and pretty. She was full of youth and her white smile matched the shade of her pearls around her neck. Her hair was a deep dark brown, almost black. She wore a black sleek dress with a suit jacket to match. Very professional Clark thought, the whole family was.
“Oh mom! This is Clark, he’s also a contestant here.” Bruce said taking her hand.
The woman smiled down at her son, “Wow! How sweet, nice to meet you Clark, I’m Martha, Bruce’s mom.” She said with the kindest eyes ever. They were the exact same shade of sky blue gray as Bruce’s.
“Nice to meet you ma’am.” Clark said bowing his head a bit with his hands behind his back. His midwestern charm ever so present.
“Oh please, call me Martha, I’m not that old!” She said. Martha. Just like his own mom, Clark smiled at that to himself as he nodded.
“Bruce was just showing me his project but I should probably get back to mine.” Clark said but Bruce was quick to speak.
“Wait but, you said nobody was stopping by at yours because it was so far in the corner. Why don’t you move it next to mine, there’s is plenty of space. Right dad? May we please?” Bruce said turning to look at his parents as he tugged on Martha’s hand.
Clark was surprised at the idea, “Oh golly geez Bruce it’s okay really, it’s nobody’s fault but mine. I was late.”
Bruce shook his head no, “It wasn’t your fault you said your flight was delayed. It’s not fair.” He said.
Martha frowned a bit as she thought it through turning over to look at her husband.
“It truly isn’t fair…I’m sure we could pull some strings around?” She asked as Thomas looked at her already smiling.
They shared a loving gaze, Clark saw how much they spoke without saying anything.
“Please dad!” Bruce asked again.
“Ah I don’t see why not! What good is being a Wayne if we can’t help others? I’ll be right back. Clark how about you go find your parents yeah?” Thomas said.
Bruce bursted into laughter and smiles as he hugged his dad thanking him. His mother laughed along with them. Meanwhile Clark excitedly smiled at them, a little confused at what a Wayne was still but nonetheless thankful.
“Gosh, thank you, but may I ask what a Wayne is? I’m a bit lost here.” Clark admitted shyly.
Bruce laughed as he let go of his dad, “It’s our last name silly. I’m Bruce Wayne.” He said proudly.
“Oh. I’m Clark Kent.” Clark said with a goofy grin not really understanding the full nature of what that last name truly meant.
Both boys laugh in union as Bruce’s parents watch with such happiness. Bruce struggles with social anxiety so seeing him be so open with another kid makes them so proud of him.
They quickly make the arrangements and Clark is soon enough set up right beside Bruce. Their parents both meet and shake hands, exchanging introductions as Bruce helps Clark move his project around. Adding finishing touches.
“Wow you really found out that solar panels could power a whole tv?” Bruce said as he read one of the panels on the board.
“Oh yeah! It can power a lot more too. The sun is so important it’s crazy how much it powers.” Clark said not really being able to explain fully why the sun meant so much to him.
Bruce smiled at him and it beamed possibly brighter than any sun he’s ever known.
“You’ve got my vote Kent.” Bruce said.
“And you’ve got mine.” Clark said as he returned the smile.
It was only a matter of time before they continued to share stories back and forth, completely forgetting about the fair. There was a lot of people who would come up to their booths and gaze at their projects but even with the occasional interruptions the two boys talked each other’s ear off until it was time for the winners to be announced.
It was a breezy ceremony that went by quickly. Awards were handed out and Bruce placed first. No surprise there, his project was truly ahead of its time. Clark didn’t quite place top five but he did get eighth place which was huge considering the amount of kids at the convention. Regardless his parents gave him the biggest hug ever and he couldn’t have felt prouder.
“Well Bruce, how about you say goodbye to Clark, we’ve got a long drive back home to Gotham.” Thomas said as he gave Jon Kent a firm handshake goodbye.
Both of the Martha’s exchanged numbers as they said their own separate goodbyes.
Bruce sighed as he stepped forward into Clark’s personal space.
“Goodbye Clark, it was wonderful to meet you.” Bruce said trying not to sound as sad as he felt.
Clark frowned for the first time all day, genuine sadness was beginning to creep up into his eyes.
“Bye Bruce, I had a lot of fun, thank you again for everything. You’re amazing.” Clark said once again extending his hand out.
Bruce took it and held it for a bit before letting go. They smiled before going their separate ways. With different means to get back home. Clark was left feeling empty after meeting what felt like the greatest best friend ever.
“I wish we could’ve stayed longer.” Clark murmured on their way back to the airport.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m sure one day you’ll see Bruce again.” His ma said pulling him into her side and kissing his head. The same way Thomas Wayne had done to Bruce. The same way any parent would hold their children.
One day couldn’t have come sooner.
High school graduation was no easy defeat.
It was a treacherous journey. One full of petty girl drama and dry boy humor. First kisses and awkward dances, and relationships you’d rather forget. Clark never was one to waste his time on that sort of stuff anyways. He was more focused on school. On passing his classes and making it to college.
With many applications he managed to snag a full ride scholarship to Metropolis University. It was far from home but it was his only option for what he wanted to study. Every other school was too expensive for his parents to pay so he’d take the offer. No matter how many miles away from home sweet home it was.
Lana Lang, Clark’s fist real girlfriend was not too happy to hear her boyfriend was moving to a whole different state so after their last summer, she broke things off. Telling him that they were going separate ways in life.
It broke Clark’s heart, considering he genuinely thought she’d be the one he marry. But as he moved into his new dorm in Metropolis, he realized things weren’t as dramatic as he thought. That’d he’d be okay.
He’d made a couple of new friends, joined a few clubs and organizations. Decorated his dorm to his liking, and was always excited to start his classes. He was doing quite okay for it being his first time away from home.
It was scary to leave his parents behind. Especially with his secret. But when he was 15, his parent’s had finally told him about the spaceship he came in, and all the things within it. The key to the fortress, the blanket he came in, the video of his parents. It was just the start of who he’d one day become.
He visited the fortress from time to time, learning a lot about his home planet through the technology there. He acquired some glasses that would help seal his identity, he wasn’t exactly sure why he needed them, why he wouldn’t want people to know he was Clark Kent. But the robots insisted he needed them.
It wasn’t until he was around 17 maybe, he started to understand a bit better. He always knew he was here on Earth for something bigger than himself. To be someone.
He never would have expected it to be the role of a protector. Someone who would help others. The kryptonian technology was much more advanced than anything he’d ever seen before, so when they made him a suit, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Clark always knew he could use his powers to help others. He often would. Back in Smallville he’d help in small stuff but never anything that would reveal too much. He came close once to almost losing everything after saving his classmate from drowning.
But regardless, he knew this. He just wasn’t sure what to do with it. Could he still be just Clark Kent. An aspiring journalist? And someone who was meant to save the world?
So he put it off. He’d finish University first and then figure out a way to use the suit. For now Clark decided to stick to small subtle help. A cat stuck in a tree, or moving a couch into an apartment. Things that were still human. Because that was one thing he craved more than anything.
To be human.
It was Clark’s choice if he wanted to be a hero of sorts or just be human. He couldn’t possibly be both could he? Not now at least.
Sometimes when things got a little bleak and Clark would start to miss home. He’d pull out the small picture album his mother made him to take with him. And he’d go through the photos.
The birthday ones, the family ones. The ones where it was his first time learning he could freeze things with his breath, or the first time he won a spelling bee. Clark ran his hand across the pictures.
He flipped the page and immediately softened. It was one of his favorites.
A day he’d always remember in the back of his mind. It was a one time thing. Never to occur again. But still Clark remembered it like it was yesterday.
“Bruce freaking Wayne.” Clark whispered in a small laugh as he looked at the picture.
It was him and Bruce, arms thrown around each other, each holding up their respective ribbons. 1st place on the left, 8th on the right. Big smiles on both of their faces, and an overall warm radiance.
Once he got older he learned of what a Wayne truly was. And why it was so easy for them to have helped Clark. Billionaires. They were old money, a founding family of Gotham City. Famous even in most cases.
Nobody ever believed when Clark would tell them he knew Bruce Wayne. Because does it really count if you only met him once? Only spoke for an evening? Either way. Clark liked to think that even Bruce would think of him from time to time.
He’d see him in the news, on social media. It wasn’t always good. Most of the time it was bad. Learning of the Wayne’s passing was heartbreaking and Clark remembered crying at the tv that old summer.
He tried telling his parents they needed to go to Gotham to be there for Bruce but his parents had to calm him down.
He can still remember the way Bruce smiled so lovingly at his parents that one day at the science fair. Clark could only imagine how horrible Bruce must’ve felt seeing his world be ripped away from him.
To this day, Clark wonders if Bruce Wayne is okay. The news never reports on him anymore and when they do, it’s not good. Always the same story of how tragic it is for the now orphan.
Clark sighed, closing the album. He had a paper to write.
Bruce Wayne would have to wait.
He still had two years left of high school by the time Clark was in his first year of Uni.
16 and 18, two worlds apart.
Bruce was smart however. Possibly smarter than Clark Kent ever would be. His excellency would shine through in Math and Science.
But after his parents passing when he was 10, school suddenly seemed pointless. So even though he would pass his classes with flying colors. None of it interest him. Not like it mattered anyways.
Bruce had life sculpted out for him.
He was to go into medical school, become a doctor just like his father. And take over Wayne Enterprises, just like his father. He’d be an artist, a hero, a philanthropist just like his mother. But since they weren’t around to even see it, Bruce could have cared less about what he was meant to be.
If you’d ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He’d give the same answer every time.
“Dead. I want to be dead.” He said once to a journalist who had ambushed him after school one day.
It made the news headline for a week or so before people slowly forgot about him again. Bruce was a recluse. He was private and rarely ever spoke to anyone or showed his face publicly. Bruce hated it. Always had.
His parent’s death haunted him with guilt and grief. Was it his fault they died? Had he not begged his parents to just go home would they still be alive? Bruce racks his brain over and over until his mind feels raw and used.
He’d rather not think despite having the most going on up in his head.
Alfred does his best to try and help Bruce become a better man. He’d given much up to help the Waynes long before Bruce was even born, so seeing the young resemblance to his parents always made Alfred want to try harder. Never wanting to let Master Thomas and Madam Martha down. It was in his nature.
But Bruce just saw things in a different light. He was depressed. Severely so.
Every little action he did from waking up to brushing his teeth became things that required so much motivation. And that was the last thing he had. He would go days without going out, if it wasn’t for the academy he was in, he wouldn’t even go to class. And don’t even get Alfred started on how little the teen ate. He was skinnier than needed to be, lanky and pale.
There were days where Bruce would fill up with an anger instead of sadness.
Those days were the hardest.
He’d be in constant state of hate. Everything was fucked and everyone was even more fucked in his eyes. He’d get into fights at school knowing he’d get beat up. Bruce wouldn’t even put up a fight back, just wanting to feel some sort of pain course through his body, just to remember he’s alive. It was unhealthy, but coming home to a manor full of memories that haunted him was as bad as any day Bruce had.
It wasn’t always like this though.
On the extra rare occasion, there were times he would come out of his room willingly. No begging and insisting from Alfred or Dory. He would go downstairs in silence and then sit down on the island counter in the kitchen. He’d say a simple “What’s that.” to Alfred who would in turn give him a detailed description of the food.
Sometimes he’d give Bruce a backstory. Like where the food came from. Other times he’d have music playing and sometimes he’d just talk to Bruce about anything. In hopes the young boy would stay.
Bruce would simply sit there, and listen. Sometimes he’d lay his head on his arms and pay attention, or he’d bring a book down and read it while the sounds of cooking and light magic filled the kitchen.
Alfred would eventually set a plate of food down and let Bruce eat, but the boy hated being watched so he’d ask Alfred to join him. It wasn’t proper for Alfred, much less correct in his eyes. But for the sake of the boy, he’d make a small plate for himself and eat across from him on the counter.
Afterwards, Bruce would watch him wash the dishes and somewhere along the way he’d a whisper a small, “Thank you.” or “Excuse me.” and quietly walk away, other times he won’t even say a word before leaving.
For a while however, Alfred figured Bruce would retreat back into his bedroom after, until one night he found him asleep on his father’s office chair.
It was his father’s study. It was quite the space. A huge balcony was the only window in the room, but the tall glass from floor to ceiling let the moon light in. The gothic design of course made the room appear darker than what it was. With bookshelves encasing the walls beside the balcony with intricate trims.
The wall on the left was adorned with pictures and antiques surrounding a sound fireplace. No longer in use.
The wall opposite to it, on the right, was mostly shelves of different files, more antiques, books, picture frames, journals, and trophies. In front of it was the study’s desk. And that’s where Alfred found Bruce fast asleep in.
He was curled up into a ball, his head resting against his knees and the chair that was too big for his size. His hair was up in about three different directions but by the way his rosy cheeks were tear stained, Alfred knew it was better not to bother. Bruce looked comfortable despite it all. A little cold if anything.
Alfred had walked over to the couch in the study and took the throw blanket from it. He promptly placed it on Bruce and let the boy rest. He rarely got to these days.
It was on his way out that Alfred realized why Bruce would pick the chair instead of the couch.
Right across the room, was not just the fireplace, but right above the mantel, was a family portrait. Thomas Wayne on the left, Martha to his right, and a very happy Bruce right in the middle. All staring right back down to the shriveled up boy who now slept ever so gently. Alone.