Chapter Text
Every kid was ready to change as they grew up, they were excited to become grown up and do grown up things. But Clark hadn’t expected to change as much as he had. Taking a walk along the cornfield was something he'd enjoyed doing ever since he’d been little or driving down the road besides it in his Pa's truck.
But now...
It was something he would do when his mind was filled with thoughts he couldn’t process. He was changing more than his classmates were.
It had already started in middle school, while everyone had their growth spurt, Clark seemed to shoot up like a tree. By the end of middle school he was already towering over the other kids. That hadn’t been something his parents had been concerned about, sometimes kids grew earlier and taller than others.
After that explanation Clark had thought the same, until his strength came along.
He had always been stronger, testament too when he threw one of his toys during a tantrum and it flew through the house and into the barn, leaving holes in the wall. But it grew stronger during summer vacation before he started high school. His parents were shocked when he could suddenly lift his father’s truck. Control was the priority during the summer as his father drilled into him to control it, to stay focused and careful with anything he touched until he controlled his strength without a conscious thought.
Though his temper could affect his ironclad control.
His parents were reluctant to send him to a school full of hormonal, temperamental teenagers. But making Clark stay home while his friends all went to high school was unfair to the boy. Clark had feared he wouldn’t get to go to high school but was elated when they told him he would go, but to be careful.
His excitement had been palpable on his first day of school. He’d been so excited that he’d gotten up early and practically inhaled his breakfast within minutes. It was a miracle he hadn’t choked. His mother barely had time to scold him before he had already left the house and got onto the bus. His parents had looked after him incredulously before shaking their heads in fondness. They had offered to drive him, but Clark had wanted to go himself. Teens didn’t get driven to school anymore. He could have used his speed, but Clark liked to maintain a bit of normalcy in his life.
He’d arrived at school early but fortunately there had been a few early kids as well. Along with them was also Lana Lang who lived a mile down from their farm. Her aunt and his parents knew each other but Clark had never interacted much with her. But he had a crush on her since he had laid eyes on her for the first time.
Lana had the dark reddest hair he had ever seen, and she was beautiful, people were already gathering around her and talking with her. Clark was also one of those people and luckily, he and Lana seemed to be getting along well as the conversation just kept going.
Then a group of boys had arrived with a brown-haired boy at the front, likely the leader of the group, who he later learned was named Blake Whitney. Clark had known from that day that he was going to be trouble, and he'd been right. The guy just had some sort of problem with him. Maybe because he had seen him talking to Lana and Blake probably liked her. Clark didn't know.
While he managed to form some friendship with other students and a deeper friendship with Lana, Clark never felt like he could create a deep bond with people as he felt guilty for lying to them. But at least everyone liked him and there was no animosity, except between him and Blake, so he counted that as a win.
However, the fact that he was different remained in the back of his head. Something he was reminded of when he watched the football team play or the students play basketball, and he couldn’t participate at the risk of hurting someone.
If his physical attributes weren’t enough, his senses were also better than other people’s. He’d thought being able to hear someone’s heartbeat was normal until he told his parents.
The first time he noticed it had been while he had been doing his homework. His father’s voice suddenly reached his ears, and he could hear him tell his mother to get him so he could help with farm work.
Leaving his homework, Clark had gone downstairs to the living room where he’d thought his parents were only to find it empty. He was confused, he grew even more confused when he heard them talking again and it had sounded like it came from the next room. But then he opened the door and while he’d stood on the porch, he’d finally found them. They hadn’t been anywhere near the house, they’d been in the barn, which was a walking distance away.
That was just another thing going on the list of things about himself he had to hide from others.
To others Clark Kent was nothing more than the charming, shy boy living on a farm with his parents. Nothing abnormal about him, nothing that could draw attention towards him and yet, Blake had chosen him for some reason as a target to bully. Clark ignored him and his lackeys and didn’t tell his parents. Blake wasn’t a problem, and he couldn’t hurt him, so there was no point in worrying them.
But even so, when watching other kids Clark couldn’t help but feel lonely sometimes.
He knew he shouldn't feel lonely; he had his parents and his best friend Lana and a few other friends. But Lana and his other friends didn't know about his powers. He felt like he was lying to all of them.
All he wanted was a friend he could be honest with, could tell him about all of himself, including his powers. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?
000
"Oh, Clark.", sighed a middle-aged woman as she looked out the window at her black-haired boy walking down the road away from the farm. She was worried about her son; he had come home not his usual self. Her son used to come home with a smile and tell her husband and her parts of his day. But since he’d started high school, he’d often come home quiet and with a frown on his face. Both knew that keeping his secret was weighing heavily on Clark, but what could they do? The danger that someone could exploit him or take him from them was not something they wanted to toy with.
However, today was worse than all the other days. He had come home and without even looking at them, went up to his room before coming down and saying he was going for a walk.
"Martha?", a male voice called.
"In here, Jonathan."
Her husband walked in and immediately got a look of concern when he saw her face before he walked over to her.
"What's wrong, honey?"
Martha hugged her husband, needing comfort after their son's abnormal behavior. Jonathan just held her a moment before he heard her say, "I'm worried about Clark. He just really hasn't been himself these last few days."
Jonathan held his wife tighter.
They had both known raising their son was going to be a challenge. Regardless of the spaceship they had found him in, they’d fallen in love with him the moment they had held the little baby in their arms and Clark had looked at them with his innocent blue eyes.
But they hadn't known how he would grow up, if he would develop any alien abilities and what they would be. The ship had only come with a box, which they hadn't been able to access and that had left it a guessing game. But whatever happened, they'd promised themselves they would love Clark regardless and support him. He was their son after all, even if not by blood.
"I'm sure it's nothing bad and if it is, he'll come talk to us. The only thing we can do in the meantime is to be there for him.", he tried to reassure Martha.
Fortunately, he had succeeded because Martha looked up at him nodded. Placing a kiss on his cheek she went back to the kitchen to start preparing some lunch while he went back outside. But as he walked to the barn, he thought about his son. He just hoped Clark would forgive them for keeping his origins a secret from him for so long.
000
Clark exited the convenience shop with a sandwich in his hand. He knew his Ma would scold him later, but he needed something in his stomach.
Just when he was about to take another bite, he heard a small whine. He followed the sound to a cardboard box behind the store and walked towards it. Crouching before it he let out a gasp.
In the box was a black cat.
It wasn't very big, maybe an adolescent. It's fur was matted and there was dried up dirt and he could also smell smoke? Had it been in a fire? But there hadn't been any fires for a while now.
The cat seemed to sense his presence, because not a second later it opened it's blue slitted eyes and stared at him. Clark startled when he saw the intense gaze of the cat. It was full of wariness and suspicion. From how close he was, Clark could see the dried-up red flakes in it's fur and a faint metallic scent reached his nose. ‘What happened to it?’, he wondered.
"Hey there, little buddy.", he tried softly. He slowly reached forward with his hand but before he could get any closer a paw with sharp claws swung out and he reeled back with a pained shout, clutching his hand.
He looked at his hand and was shocked to find unharmed skin, only red marks from where bloody scratches should have been, but otherwise nothing. Shaking his head and putting this event away to ponder about later, he turned back to the cat.
It looked like that swing had taken everything out of it. It was lying on it's side breathing heavily but still had enough strength to hiss at him.
He pondered for a solution then remembered his sandwich he still held in his other hand. He ripped off a piece of meat and then threw it to the cat. It sniffed the piece before looking at him again.
Clark tried to look reassuring and sound convincing as he said, "It's pork. I didn't poison it or anything. See?" He took a piece and ate it while making an appreciative noise as he rubbed his stomach, having no doubt that he looked quite ridiculous.
This seemed to finally convince the cat as it rose onto it’s trembling legs. It approached the piece before he ate it. When it finished it looked at Clark with rounded pupils asking for more.
"Aww. Here you go, buddy.", Clark said and gave the cat some more, which it eagerly ate.
If Clark ever found the jerk that had dumped the cat here, that person would fear high schoolers for the rest of their lives.
000
Martha looked out the window again, hoping for the familiar mop of black hair to appear, but turned away in disappointment when she saw nothing. Clark had missed lunch, and she was getting worried. He wasn't with Lana; she had knocked at their door, which Lana had answered and said she hadn't seen Clark since school. That only worried her more as she wondered where else he could be.
"Martha, calm down. Clark's a good kid. I'm sure he's okay and on his way home."
She turned to Jonathan and was about to point out all the things that could’ve happened, when the door suddenly burst open and footsteps rang through the rouse as their son’s call reached their ears, “Ma! Pa!”
"In the living room, Clark!", Jonathan answered and not a second later their son's head popped into the room. Jonathan noticed that Clark seemed to be carrying something under his jacket. However before he could say something his wife had enveloped their boy in a hug.
"Oh, Clark! I was so worried when you didn't come home for lunch." She let him go and pointed a stern finger at him saying, "You are in big trouble, young man."
Clark got a sheepish look as he rubbed his neck. "I'm sorry, Ma. I lost track of-" His jacket shifted which startled his mother.
"Clark?"
"Oh yeah. Ma, Pa, look!" Clark finally dug out what was in his jacket and both parents blinked at the small cat held before them.
"I named him Bruce. It was the only name he liked after I found out he was a boy.", Clark said proudly while tucking Bruce in his elbow to scratch him under his chin. Bruce purred and closed his eyes as he pushed into his hand for more.
Jonathan and Martha didn't know what to say about the little feline.
It was obvious the cat was not domesticated and had been through some things. But Clark had grown very attached to Bruce, they could see that, and it seemed Bruce liked Clark too. Clark also looked happier than he ever had in the last few days, all because of Bruce. Keeping him wouldn't be a big problem either, they had the space and a few things from their last cat.
Jonathan looked at Martha and she sighed. She knew arguing would be a losing battle and therefore went into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of milk which she put on the ground. Bruce, hearing the clink of the bowl, looked down and immediately jumped down when he saw what was in the bowl.
Clark gasped and looked at them with a big smile. "I can keep him?!"
"Yes, dear."
The bright smile on Clark's face was worth it, they decided.
000
Bruce had quickly become a part of the Kent family. Martha and Jonathan became attached to Bruce just as quickly as Clark had. Though they'd questioned their decision for a short moment when they gave him his first bath. Jonathan would rather pull out weeds all day than give Bruce another bath.
Though the wash brought Bruce's true colors out. He wasn't as completely black as they had first thought. His fur was a dark charcoal gray with a black tabby pattern along with dark gray fur that covered his stomach, chest and his muzzle.
For the first time since he'd started getting his powers, Clark was happy.
He loved Bruce too bits, and it showed in his care for him. Bruce was his very best friend, and he deserved the best he could give, which also involved sneaking a few pieces of meat or fish off the table for him. Though the look in his father's eyes told him that he wasn't as subtle as he had thought he was. But since his Pa never said anything, Clark never stopped.
Before the Kents realized it three years had gone by, and Clark was slowly finishing his junior year. During those three years he continued to grow, though thankfully it seemed he was slowing down. Clark hoped he didn’t grow much anymore as he was nearing 6 feet. Along with his growing physique, his powers grew as well, but still they still had their occasional flukes.
When the tryouts had come for the football team in the freshman year, Clark had wanted to try his luck, and other students had told him multiple times he should sign up. However, it had taken an immense number of arguments to convince his parents, Clark had finally been allowed to try out and to his amazement he'd gotten a direct spot on the team. Even with that, Blake's bullying hadn't stopped, though Clark continued to ignore him.
'BEEP'
'BEEP'
'BEEP'
'click'
"Urgh.", a black-haired teenager groaned, rolling over in his bed. He tried to fall back into the sweet bliss of sleep, but he didn't have that luck as a weight settled on his back and started purring. When he didn't react, the purring turned into meowing becoming increasingly insistent. "Bruce... five more minutes..."
Bruce's electric blue eyes narrowed as he huffed. In protest he started pulling on Clark's hair. When that didn't work, he resorted to hitting Clark's hard head with his paws and as an extra measure had his claws out. He knew they wouldn't hurt him, only sting a little. But he didn't care. He was hungry and Martha and Jonathan had left for the market. Which left him with this lazy lump.
Clark groaned in misery before rolling over and opening his eyes. He glared in mock anger but smiled when he saw his charcoal furred friend's look of annoyance. He lifted his hand to pet him. "Morning, Bruce." Bruce meowed in response.
Bruce had grown into a beautiful cat since the Kents had taken him in. His coat was shiny and healthy. His body was slender, but you could feel the muscle underneath. His legs were long, slim, and strong and his paws had soft paw pads, and he was armed with very sharp claws. Someone had even asked them once if they could use Bruce to sire a litter. They had refused, of course.
Yet Clark had noticed and experienced some strange things concerning Bruce. For one his thumbs were bigger than most cats, but that could have been from a genetic mutation. But there was one time he had sneezed fire. Fire!
Clark had been doing his homework, and failing, and Bruce had been sitting next to him meowing for some fish, when he’d sneezed, and Clark's paper was suddenly on fire. He panicked and spilled his water all over the paper, putting out the fire as well as ruining his homework. His teacher had not been happy.
On top of that, he noticed that Bruce didn't seem to be gaining weight and when he did it would be gone the next day. His Pa had reasoned that Bruce wasn’t gaining weight because he was a lot more active than other cats. But he wasn't too skinny either, so it wasn't something to visit the vet for. Although Clark had decided to give him a little bit of extra food, just in case. His neck was thicker as well, and his tail was longer than average. Which could both be explained by a genetic mutation.
Even so, he loved Bruce the way he was. They were both different and Clark appreciated him even more because of that.
With a grunt, Clark left his still warm bed, all the while contemplating lying down again. However, with the way Bruce looked at him he thought better of it and left his room to head downstairs for the kitchen with Bruce following.
After making some breakfast, Clark miraculously not making too much of a mess, both were enjoying their food. As he ate Clark wondered why he'd gotten up so early on a weekend. He usually slept in.
Bruce, having finished his food, looked at Clark and could immediately tell that he had forgotten what he was supposed to do today. He rolled his eyes then ran up to the room and came back down with a piece of paper. He sat next to the table and meowed to get Clark's attention.
"What do you have there, Bruce?", Clark asked curiously. Though as soon as he had read the first few words he sprang out of the chair, almost falling over, and sprinted up to his room.
Bruce, watching all of this from the counter, shook his head in exasperation before he leisurely walked up the stairs to the room and then jumped onto the bed. Making himself comfortable, he decided a nap would be a good idea.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he jumped into the air when the door burst open and a fully dressed Clark ran in. He glared then sat down, settling to clean himself and taking a nap when the idiot had left.
Clark was scrambling.
He was supposed to meet Lana today for a project they had to do, and he wanted to look nice for her. Blake hadn't liked that all and had glowered at him the whole day after the partners had been made. Clark wouldn't say it out loud, but he couldn't help but feel smug about it. Blake was a jerk and the bullying, which still hadn't stopped but was now only verbal, just annoyed and confused him about why Blake chose him as his target. But what confused him even more was what Lana saw in him that she'd started dating him.
He tried taming his hair with a bit of gel then ruffled it a bit before nodding satisfied with the result. He put on a bit of cologne and his jacket. Turning to the feline, he asked, "How do I look, Bruce?"
Bruce stopped his cleaning to give him an annoyed once over before approving with a trill and going back to his prior task.
Smiling at his success, Clark took his backpack and keys, he left after giving Bruce some scratches and with the promise to return home in a few hours with some fish.
000
Bruce followed Clark with his eyes from the window and grumbled in mirth when he saw him trip. He shook his head.
Humans were weird.
He knew Clark was attracted to that female he often mentioned, Lana, he thought her name was, he could smell it. But she already had someone courting her, so Clark couldn't court her himself.
Bruce’s kind had a simpler approach to courtship. Males would try to impress a female if her scent suggested good compatibility. Sometimes they had to fight off rivals. The winner, chosen by the female, earned the right to court her, and if successful, they would bond and become mates. If the female rejected him, both simply moved on to find another partner. Since his species had a low birth rate, especially outside of season, it was important to find the best possible match.
He shook his head. Then again, even if Blake wasn’t in the picture, Clark could somehow find a way for Lana to only see him as a friend than anything more. It wouldn’t surprise him.
Jumping down from the windowsill, Bruce went and checked the house to make sure it was locked as well as checking outside to see if any vehicles approached the farm. When the cat was sure everything was secure, he stood in the middle of the living room and frowned in concentration. He shuddered before his body started contracting.
After a while, the silence having been filled with cracks and growls, Bruce stood in his true form.
He was a Sekmonian, the last of his kind.
He was taller, standing at a proud 6 feet for his age. His dark charcoal gray fur covered his whole body and was smooth, but sturdy and thick. Perfect for cold temperatures, but not too warm for the current heat in Kansas. The black from his tabby pattern had gathered to his chest to form a slightly messy, but discernible bat shaped patch.
His tail was as long as his body was high and slightly longer. His legs were slim, but strong. As was his body, lean and strong. Perfect for running.
His sharp claws were out and gleaming in the light. His thumbs' claws were out as well. His eyes were surrounded in black to shield them from the sunlight.
But his body was also built for something else.
Checking himself over, paying close attention to his shoulders, back and tail, he concluded that he would likely be fully grown within a year and a few months, maybe two.
Sekmonians physically aged to a certain point and then they stopped growing. The age could be determined by smell and behavior. Right now, Bruce was an adolescent, soon to be entering adulthood.
Shaking himself again, he left the house through the window, landing solidly on his feet. He checked his surroundings, the only ones who’s seen him being the farm animals, their ears held forward towards him in curiosity. They’d always known he wasn’t a normal cat; animals always were more in tune with their surroundings than humans.
Bruce went to an open field on the farm’s grounds and took off running.
It was exhilarating.
The weather was nice; the ground was not too hard and there were no sharp rocks. There was an enjoyable breeze, the sound of nature, the rustling of the corn fields and the animals in the background. All things that made running enjoyable.
But during his run, his thoughts wandered to Clark.
Bruce knew Clark was an alien. No human had powers like him, and his parents didn't either, but they knew something. However, it wasn't his secret to tell. He was sure they would tell Clark themselves and when they did, he would reveal himself as well.
000
Hands trembling and head shaking in disbelief, Clark stared at the box in his hand and the 'S' in the middle of it in shock.
His powers had surged after school. There had been an explosion at a gas station a few miles from school and Clark had run there, faster than he’d ever been. He’d saved the people at the station and then left the scene before the police or firefighters showed up. As soon as he’d gone home Clark had immediately told his parents.
Clark had known they would be curious about his power surge but also proud that he had helped save those people.
But instead, they had looked at each other, eyes filled with worry and dread before they brought him to the storm cellar in the field. There was something large covered by a tarp in the cellar and Clark’s eyes widened when his father removed the tarp to show a spaceship. Clark’s eyes grew even wider when they explained they had found him in it before handing him a box. The box revealed that he was of alien heritage. Apparently, his kind were called Kryptonians from the planet Krypton, but his home planet had been destroyed, and he was the sole survivor.
Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara-El. The Last Son of Krypton.
"No... no, no, no!", he cried. His name was Clark Kent! He was human and was born on Earth! Though... was he really?
This would explain his powers and why he'd always felt different from the other kids and so many other things.
Overwhelmed, he ran out of the barn as fast as he could, ignoring his parents calls.
Running and running with no destination in mind, Clark ran even as his vision started to blur. So caught up in his turmoil, he didn’t notice when he started feeling lighter. However, he finally realized that he couldn’t feel the ground anymore. Looking down, a gasp escaped him when he found himself floating. Clark levitated higher and higher until he finally stopped. From how high he was, he could see everything under him.
He lost his balance when he turned and fumbled to right himself. Clark wanted to move but he couldn’t figure out how. But then he stretched his arms forward and his body followed. Clark laughed.
Soon he got the hang of his new power, his earlier turmoil was forgotten for the moment as he flew over the fields in Smallville. While he flew, Clark thought about the reveal of his origins and his adoptive parents.
They didn't have to adopt him and raise him, but they did. They did their best and only showed him love. They treated him like he was their biological child. Clark may be an alien and have biological parents, but they were gone, and his real parents were right there. Worried and waiting for him to come home.
“What am I doing…?”, he asked himself as he stopped. The teen was about to fly back but then he saw a shape moving along the field towards him. The shape looked like, "Bruce!"
Flying down to his cat, he wondered how Bruce had caught up to him or even found him.
Landing, he immediately went to pick him up, but the cat jumped away. "Bruce? What is it?" Trying again, Bruce evaded him again and meowed at him.
"Bruce?", he called worried.
His blue eyes stayed on him before they closed tightly as his whole body shuddered; before it turned into a full body shiver and the sound of cracking bones started.
"Bruce!", Clark cried alarmed. He was about to gather him in his arms and fly him back home but stopped when he saw Bruce was starting to grow. After a few minutes, Bruce stood before him, or rather towered over him, looking differently. Clark stared up at him and realization hit him.
Bruce was an alien too.
Stretching out his hand, he slowly put it on Bruce's head then laughed amused, and a touch relieved, when Bruce pushed into his hand, moving it up for his ears to be scratched. Yep, still the same old Bruce.
"Whoa."
Distracted in his amazement, Clark startled when he found himself on Bruce's back and running fast towards home. "Woah!", he shouted and slung his arms around Bruce's throat, but not tight enough to block his airway. Though he doubted he could do that with how muscular his neck felt.
"Hold on.", a deep voice growled, and Clark startled hard.
No way.
"Bruce?! You can talk?!"
Bruce only looked at him with a look that said, 'I'll explain later'.
The speed at which they reached the house was impressive, his parents were walking out of the storm cellar. Their eyes found his and their faces turned relieved. Bruce stopped a small distance away from them, but Clark was already jumping down before he even stopped.
Clark ran towards his parents as they ran towards him, and they met in the middle. They hugged him tighter than Clark could ever remember. Thinking back, his reasons for being upset seemed ridiculous now as he enjoyed the love they showed him.
But suddenly he was pulled behind his father who stood protectively in front of his mother and him, glaring at Bruce who had been slowly approaching them.
"Wait! Pa, no, that's Bruce!", he yelled, rushing out from behind him to stand in front of Bruce, arms spread out.
Clark could tell that this revelation shocked his parents, because their jaws dropped as their eyes widened.
Turning to his now 6 feet tall friend, Clark’s gaze emphasized his earlier promise of an explanation.
"I will.", Bruce responded, and Clark's parents looked, if possible, even more shocked.
000
His parents took Bruce being an alien and being able to talk better than Clark had first thought. Then again, they had been raising him for almost 17 years, so. But he was ecstatic to learn that Bruce was a fellow extraterrestrial.
When he asked Bruce about his species, he answered every question, except those about what had happened to his home planet. When asked, Bruce closed up and something like grief and sadness would flash over his face but be gone in the next second. He figured maybe something like what had happened to his planet had happened to Bruce's.
In the next two years that followed, Clark put everything into his studies. Lana broke up with Blake and got together with Clark. Admitting to having a crush on him since middle school but not having had the courage to confess to him. Their relationship had started out well, but they’d both noticed that it wasn’t working, and broke it off, deciding to remain close friends. Which Clark had been sad about afterwards, Lana being his first ever girlfriend but deep down he had known they were right to break it off.
Though he moved on and focused on finishing high school and started to think about his future. Which brought him to have an important conversation with his parents over dinner.
"You want to study journalism?", Martha asked curiously.
"Yeah, something like that.", Clark admitted.
"I mean... it's not a bad career, but... you would have to move away to get a job."
"I know..."
A moment of silence reigned at the table. Martha and Jonathan were thinking about their son's career choice and Clark was hoping his parents would give him their blessings, meanwhile Bruce was enjoying his plate of delicious fish.
Jonathan breathed in deep then let it out. "I understand that you want to find your own path and I've thought about the possibility of it being away from here."
Clark was scared; his Pa sounded like he disapproved.
Jonathan and Martha were having a silent conversation then both nodded and Jonathan picked off, "And we will allow you to go-"
"Really?!"
"-on one condition.", Jonathan finished a little annoyed at being interrupted.
"Oh.", Clark sheepishly said, blush on his cheeks as he sat down again. "What's the condition?"
"You take Bruce with you.", Martha stated.
Bruce looked up from his food and meowed in curiosity before moving his eyes to Clark. Clark returned the look then looked at his parents.
"We just don't want you to be out there alone, honey.", Martha said.
"Plus, Bruce can help you when you need it and help you remember things. He's a smart guy.", Jonathan added.
Bruce looked at the three then said, "Well, I don’t mind, and it would be nice to see the city."
All three pairs of eyes on him, Clark fiddled with his hands before he relented, "Okay, I'll take Bruce with me." Though secretly he was glad his parents had brought up the idea.
Both parents smiled and dinner continued with Clark feeling lighter. Conversations were held regarding his decision, with his parents asking questions about his plans.
000
Finally, graduation had arrived, which brought many embarrassing photos and parties, that Clark was glad and sad to find out alcohol had no effect on him and then finally college. Luckily Kansas had a college for journalism.
During the following four years Clark had to study hard and more than once pull an all-nighter. Although he had to make new friends, he was able to bring Bruce with him and he went home to his parents during vacations. Some things also happened which he would rather never mention to anyone or be mentioned, ever.
As luck would have it, Clark got his bachelor's degree in journalism with flying colors, thanks to Bruce's help too, and they celebrated.
Yet with getting his degree came leaving Kansas to live in the city and to get a job. The next city was Metropolis and thankfully renting out an apartment was easy with the help of his parents. Though the prices for some apartments were criminal.
But all four of them knew the day Clark and Bruce had to leave was getting closer. Knowing that, they spent more time together and did a lot of things they didn't usually do. Either because of money or they’d never gotten around to doing it. The few months until they left seemed to move past faster than they thought, because soon came the day Clark and Bruce left for Metropolis.
The family stood at the bus station with everything packed in multiple suitcases for both Bruce and Clark. It was time to say goodbye.
Martha hugged him tight and said, "Don't forget to do your laundry and to keep the apartment clean and don't hesitate to call us and-"
"Martha, Martha, the boy's twenty-four. He'll survive.", Jonathan said with a humored smile and Clark blushed. Bruce sitting on one of the suitcases let out a low purr in amusement.
"Oh, I know, Jonathan, but I can't help but worry. Our two boys are moving out to a big city."
Jonathan chuckled and Martha then turned to Bruce. Cupping his face, she asked, "Take care of each other, alright?"
"Of course. I'll make sure Clark doesn't have too many accidents.", Bruce teased, enjoying Clark's scandalized exclamation.
Soon the bus arrived, and they hugged one last time before they got onto it, and they waved to each other before the bus started and drove off. Soon they would be out of Kansas.
Looking out the window as he held Bruce in his lap, Clark said, "Looks like this is it, Bruce. A new chapter in our lives." Bruce agreed with a meow gazing at Clark then out the window. The city of Metropolis already in sight even from afar.