Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cloudy. That’s all Clark could think about on the excruciatingly long drive to Gotham.
Cold. Wet. Just plain miserable. There was no light inching its way through the clouds which littered themselves across the sky above the daunting and obnoxiously tall skyscrapers. Clark tilted his head back against the headrest as he analyzed the gothic inspired buildings. Picking apart at their design. Everything just felt so…empty. Like no one really lived there. A hauntingly huge difference compared to his old farm back in Smallville. Where he could actually feel the warmth of the sun melting itself against his tanned skin from working long hours under the heat helping his father, Jonathan, while his mother, Martha, baked pies as the aroma wafted from the open window out to his spot in the grass.

Now all he could smell was lit cigarettes and the subtle hint of garbage being left on the side of the streets that his father was driving past as his mother looked at the road map. Clark leaned his temple against the slightly fogged window as his glasses became askew on his face. He let out a small imperceptible sigh.
“I know what you’re thinking, son.” Jonathan’s voice broke the silence. Clark lazily turned his head at the question towards his father.
“I know how much you love Smallville and how you hate us for moving you here. But I need you to understand that your mother and I can’t afford to take care of the farm like we used to. We got an offer here and I know it’s not ideal but it’ll support us for now.” Jonathan explained as he looked at Clark then back at the road. Martha looked between the two men from the back.
“I don’t hate you guys” Clark whispered as he turned his line of sight ahead as the city grew from tall buildings to the thick of the woods. “And I understand Pa. I do.” His voice grew from a whisper to a soft and understanding tone. He was angry though. Livid. He missed his friends, room, and the road out back that he would ride his bicycle when he grew frustrated from his parents. He missed it all. But he couldn’t show his anger on his face, not to his parents.

So he turned back to the window as he looked at the gloomy part of the woods where the Gothamites who couldn’t afford the penthouses in the city lived. Jonathan pulled into the driveway of the small cabin. Clark found a way to force a small smile on his face to Martha as he got out the car, helping his father take out the boxes from the back as he made his way into the cabin. Tomorrow was the first day of his senior year, he couldn't afford letting childish feelings cloud his judgement. As he walked towards the door of the cabin he heard rustling, he snapped his head in the direction of the crows crying out as they flew rapidly away from the trees. His eyes narrowed before he walked inside. Closing the door.

Chapter Text

Clark woke up groggily to the deafening alarm blaring on his nightstand. He reached out with his eyes still closed as he let out a small groan aimlessly grasping at the air. He slammed his hand on the small alarm clock which caused it to fly off the nightstand, accidentally sending the pieces flying across the room.
He slowly sat up, the blankets pooling at his waist as he squinted at the wall. Sitting in the silence and darkness of his new room. Today is his first day at Gotham City High School. He slowly pulled the sheets from his waist, immediately missing the warmth the fur provided against his skin which was quickly frozen over from the cool wind flowing in from the open window. He slammed the window shut. Letting his hands linger on the windowsill before pulling away and going to the bathroom.

He did his routine which is the only familiar thing he knew these days. Wake up. Brush his teeth. Wash his face. Brush his unruly black curls. Put on his glasses. And eat a leftover slice of Ma's rhubarb pie for breakfast.
Clark opened his closet as he looked through the articles of clothing which were starting to look more and more embarrassing under his gaze. All of his clothes were either red or blue sweaters mixed with flannels he’s had for 4 years. He settled for a beige carhartt jacket with blue jeans and his dirtied boots. He rushed out the door and into the truck as Jonathan drove along the road.

Clark traced the fabric of his jeans as he breathed softly. He was nervous for his first day of school. He didn’t know anybody and didn’t know any of his classes. He wanted to crawl under his sheets and curl up as the days turned into nights. Away from prying eyes of the judgmental high schoolers he’d be forced to spend everyday with for the next 180 school days. It didn’t help that he came from a small town that no one had ever heard of and was a farmer who wears flannel like it’s his job. His breathing quickened as he shut his eyes. His hand slowly curled into the fabric of his jeans as he clutched for dear life. Sweat perspired at his temples as the truck began to feel smaller and the road began to elongate.

“Clark?” Jonathan asked.
Clark shot his eyes open and looked to the left to where his father was driving.
“You okay, son?” Jonathan asked with a very subtle tone of concern not wanting to embarrass Clark.
“Yeah…I’m fine. Just nervous I guess.” He said softly. Offering a small smile as he adjusted his glasses on his nose.
“I bet. New town. New school. It’ll be okay. You’re smart, you’re nice, and you’re funny. Just get out there and make friends. You don’t want to spend senior year alone in the corner.”
Clark nodded slowly as he slowly uncurled his grip of death that he had on his jeans. Using his other hand to wipe away the small traces of sweat that had accumulated on his palm.

Clark stared at his schedule like it had two heads. He stood still like a statue in the middle of the crowded and bustling hallway of his new high school. Different students would bump into him and shoulder check him. He took every shove and jab as he made his way to his first class. Biology class with Mr. Nelson.
Clark hesitantly opened the door to the classroom as he stepped inside. His classmates spoke amongst each other as Mr. Nelson talked inherently to a brick wall as he wrote on the chalkboard. Clark walked further in as he looked for an empty seat, he slowly stopped in front of a fluttering fan as he locked eyes with a student at an empty table.

The student had pale almost milkish skin in complexion with raven black hair which fell over his eyebrows and stopped at his nape. He had auburn colored eyes which glistened under the white fluorescent lights over the lab table which stared into his own as Clark’s breath hitched under the intense gaze. Clark’s eyes wandered down as he looked at the black fabric stretched across his chest and hugged around his waist. The student slowly lifted his hand as he covered his mouth and nose. Gripping the worksheet in front of him as his knuckles whitened. His eyes strained before he closed them. Clark narrowed his eyes in confusion as he curled his fingers around his backpack strap. He slowly smelled his armpit subtly. No smell. He walked away from the fan and sat down slowly next to the man who still had his nose and mouth covered as if he had smelled spoiled milk.

“I’m uh…I’m Clark.” He said softly. Offering a hand out letting it linger in the air. The man’s eyes trailed from Clark’s down to the outstretched hand. He looked ahead again and remained silent, uncovering his mouth but maintained a pained look. Clark retracted his hand as he cleared his throat. Looking at the worksheet in his hands but not really reading. The rest of the period went on as Mr. Nelson explained microorganisms. Clark kept looking between Mr. Nelson and confusing glances at the man next to him. The bell rang, before Clark could even blink, the man grabbed his backpack and notebook, bolting to the exit and leaving.

“Rude.” Clark muttered under his breath as he packed his own things calmly. He walked out the classroom as he watched the man weave his way through the students. Clark shrugged and walked the other way.

Chapter Text

Clark

It’s been a few days since that weird interaction I had with that kid in my Biology class. I noticed only today that it had been a week since he’s been in class. I hope he didn’t get hurt or anything. Mr. Nelson is droning on about the same concept of homeostasis for 30 minutes. I’ve run out of space on the back of my worksheet to doodle so now I’m forced to look around at boring posters he’s bought from Amazon I can only assume. I can only pretend to seem interested in this lecture for so long. I turn my head in the direction of the door creaking open as a head peeks in. It’s…him. I can’t help but to sit up from my slouching position. He has a black hoodie on and worn out jeans. The lights from the ceiling reflect off his milk-ish skin gleaming in a way which is almost hypnotizing. Like moonlight on a lake where the difference is so stark. I realized a little too late that I was staring so I looked away quickly hoping that he didn’t see me picking him apart head to toe. I nervously shake my leg under the table as he slowly stalks over to our desk like a predator wading in below the surface ready to embed its razor sharp teeth into the unassuming prey. Well he doesn’t have razor sharp teeth. I think.
I not so subtly side-eye him as he settles into his seat. A beat of silence festers between us before he inevitably speaks up.
“Hello.” He says gently, “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly last week. I’m Bruce Wayne. You’re…Clark.” I hold my breath as I stare at his face like an idiot.
Bruce. Bruce.
“Oh uh…y-yes. Hi. I’m Clark.” I say as my voice cracks. I mentally facepalm myself. I’ll definitely be thinking about that tonight before I sleep.
“Clark.” Bruce says again. Like he’s tasting my name. Deciding whether or not he likes it.
“Yeah that’s…that’s me. Heh.” Oh my god can I stop talking for like three seconds.
“Where have you been? You’ve been gone from class for like a week.” I ask.
“I was out of town. Family business.” He says as he looks at the chalkboard.
“Right. Family business.” I say as I look at the chalkboard too.
“Do you think I’m lying?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Are you liking the rain?” Bruce asks me. I pause from playing with the microscope for a second. I turn my head in his direction from pure amusement and confusion. “Are you seriously asking me about the weather?” Bruce just does a small nod.
“Well…um. I hate the rain. I don’t like the cold either. Gotham is both of those things. I don’t like cold wet things.” Bruce’s small smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “Why? Do you like the rain?” Bruce looks at me again and nods.
“You said you didn’t like Gotham. Are you not from here?”
I shake my head and scratch the surface of the desk. “No. I moved here from Smallville, Kansas. My parents and I lived on a farm but you know how it goes. Loss of money so we can’t really afford to keep up maintenance on the farm and Pa got offered a job out here in Gotham.”
Bruce softens his gaze at the mention of my old home. He stops my hand from scratching the desk. His cold skin envelops my warm one. I feel my heart skip a beat between the cages of my ribs. Strange.
“I’m sorry. It must be hard moving from such a beautiful place to a gloomy town like here.”
I offer a small nod as I stare at our hands on the desk. Bruce withdraws his hand from mine. "Yeah. It's always warm there. I had a lot more friends and here I can barely even hold a conversation with somebody before I mess up or they make fun of my mid western accent." I say still looking at my hand. I can't look him in the eyes. I just can't.
“Homeostasis.” Bruce says as he looks at the chalkboard, changing the subject, “The maintenance of internal balance. Temperature, blood glucose, systolic blood pressure, and blood pH.” He finishes as he turns his head towards me head first then eyes last. I swallow thickly. He’s simply speaking about homeostasis, a concept I’ve learned in seventh grade. So why is his rendition slightly unsettling?
“I can’t do blood. The sight of it makes me all nervous and queasy.” I explain while letting a small shudder out.
“Hemophobia. The fear of blood.” Bruce says slowly. Trailing his auburn eyes from my hands to my eyes. I look away as I play with the microscope again.
“Well class! That's the end of this lecture. Notes on chapter 12 are due to me by tomorrow and finish the rest of the worksheet before class tomorrow!” The moment broken by Mr. Nelson’s words. I watch Bruce get up. No backpack. “Goodbye…Clark.”
I nod lazily as I watch him walk away and leave the classroom. I sit there holding my notebook to my chest. I look at my hand again as the ghost of his touch lingers on mine. My hand feels alone now, weirdly. I scratch the back of my neck before packing my things up and making my way out of the classroom.

Chapter Text

Clark was sitting at a table in the cafeteria, picking at the stale banana muffin in his school lunch tray. His appetite had been diminished after seeing the grade he had got on his Biology quiz. Clark had never been good at subjects that involved science and it didn’t get past him how ironic it was that he was so bad at something that had so much to do with him. He never knew his biological parents or where he was really from. It had been something that gnawed at the back of his mind during every passing moment he wasn’t occupied with farm tasks or homework. Clark picked up the banana muffin and took a bite from it. He had made a few friends here, Lois and Jimmy. Lois was fierce and would often clash with Clark. He liked that, it kept him on his toes. Whereas Jimmy was nicer and would stick with Clark between classes and lunch periods. He was grateful for them, it had been a weird first two weeks at his new high school in Gotham. So he was at least happy he had friends to suffer with.
As Lois and Jimmy argued over meaningless things like always, he thought back to Bruce. Not like he was obsessed with him or anything. But Clark looked at his left hand as he remembered the numbingly cold grasp that Bruce had on his own warm flushed skin. Strange was the word Clark had begun to associate with the quiet man.
“What’s the deal with Bruce Wayne anyways?” Clark suddenly asked, looking up from his hand as Lois and Jimmy stopped talking altogether. Jimmy side-eyed Lois as if inviting her to take the reins.
“Bruce Wayne? You, Clark Kent, know Bruce Wayne?” She asked with a hint of surprise in her voice. Clark grimaced at her shocked tone as he threw a plastic fork at her.
“Yeah I’m capable of making friends Lois believe it or not. And that wasn’t the question I was asking. I was asking what’s his deal? He was absent everyday last week. I don’t know.” Clark said, trying to sound uninterested. Lois rolled her eyes as she returned to scrapping at the mashed potatoes in her tray.
“He’s this rich hot guy whose family runs like half the things in Gotham. Every girl wants him and every guy wants to be him. Don’t you watch cheesy movies Clarkie?”
“Don’t call me that. Second, his family? Like the Waynes? What do you mean they run everything?” He asked as he looked at Jimmy then Lois who were sitting on the bench in front of him.
“Like everything. The Waynes built the railroads around Gotham. They help orphans find housing and if they don’t find any they open a lot of orphanages. They have dozens of foundations and charities. His father? Thomas Wayne? He owns the hospitals here.” Jimmy explained while slurping on his apple juice loudly, “Most of our parents work for the Waynes somehow or someway.”
“Yeah their family has been here in Gotham for like forever I think.” Lois added on.
Clark narrowed his eyes at Jimmy then turned his head in the direction of where everyone was looking.
It was Bruce Wayne.
In all his elegant yet unsettling glory walking through the middle of the cafeteria as students throwing their trash away moved out of the way almost in a natural routine. His clothes were fitted properly with not a sight of a wrinkle on them. His shirt and slacks were a deep shade of ebony which matched his hair. The shoes on his feet were shined beyond recognition as each step he took was a jab to the state of everyone else. It almost was a statement. “I can’t afford to make mistakes and you can’t afford to look this good.”
Clark self-consciously smoothed out his flannel shirt as he watched Bruce. He clenched his jaw as Bruce’s eyes meet his from afar. Bruce smirked slowly as he shook his head and carried on to his table. Sitting with the other stupidly rich kids at the school.
“Jesus.” Clark muttered as everyone returned back to their tables and food. “Does that always happen when he walks in the room? He’s not a celebrity.” He said slightly annoyed as he picked a crumb up and squeezed it between his fingers. Lois sighed as she shrugged. Clark looked over at Bruce again who was leaning back against his seat. His arms crossed. Just…watching. Clark held his gaze as he felt a chill go down his spine. Bruce’s lips curved into a smile. For a second, Clark could’ve sworn he had seen sharpness hidden behind his upper lip over his teeth.
“Hello? Clark? I was asking if you were coming with Jimmy and I after school. We’re going to Daisy’s Cafe.” Lois snapped at him.
Clark nodded. “Yeah…yeah I’m coming. I’ll come. Sorry.”

-

In the parking lot, Clark had his earphones plugged in as music played over the cries of howling gusts of wind which were fluttering through his black curls. He was reading an old book he had found in one of his moving boxes as he waited for Lois and Jimmy to meet up with him for Daisy’s. The bell rang as students rushed out the building heading to their own cars or the bus lot.
The music blaring in his ears masked the noises of the students and the car which had slipped over a patch of ice and now was charging right at him.
“Clark!” Lois shouted as Jimmy ran with her. Clark remained unaware as he continued reading, leaning against his red truck. “You idiot! Clark!” She screamed louder as Jimmy shouted with her. Students turned their heads in the direction of the commotion as their eyes widened at the scene. Clark finally looked up for a split second as a gasp escaped his lips. Time seemed to stop as his arms shot up instinctively to cover his face. His phone and book clattering on the concrete. He clenched his eyes shut behind his arms, falling to a crouch as the car swerved in front of him. Suddenly he felt an arm wrap behind his back and the deafening sound of metal creaking. He slowly opened his eyes one by one as he panted from adrenaline and the anticipation of being crushed to death. It was Bruce. His pale hand was deep into the side of the car. The metal around it pushed in. Clark panted as he looked at the hand then Bruce’s side profile. His eyes shook with fear and bewilderment. Bruce looked at him in the eyes, his hand still clutched into Clark’s back. “W-what…how did you...” Clark stammered as Bruce peeled himself away from Clark’s side. Clark looked at the car then again at Bruce. He was gone. No where near him. Clark looked around frantically before students gathered around.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh my god what happened?”
The voices chirped at him as he looked at them all dazed. Not processing a single word anyone was saying.
“Move it assholes!” Lois gritted as she pushed through them. She grabbed Clark by the shoulders. “Jesus Christ Smallville! Are you okay? What was that!” She spoke in a fast tone as Jimmy helped Clark stand up.
“I-I don’t…I was reading then…” Clark began to speak as the words died on his tongue. His limbs vibrated with uncontrollable panic. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.” He whispered as he brushed off the snow from his shirt. Still staring at the dent in the car. “L-let’s go.” He said shakily.
Clark got into the truck as Jimmy sat in the back and Lois in the seat next to him. His hands trembled around the steering wheel as he closed his eyes. His heart beat a thousand beats a second.
“I’ll drive. I’m taking you to a hospital. You’re in shock” Lois said softly. Clark just offered a small nod as they switched seats. He pressed his temple against the window as he looked out at the parking lot. There he was again. He was standing by a lamp post, his hands in his pockets. The rain began to fall as Clark watched Bruce’s hair grow darker and plaster themselves against his temples and cheekbones. The water falling from the ends of his hair down to the tips of his shiny shoes. Bruce then turned and walked away into the woods. Clark watched Bruce’s figure disappear with bated breath as Lois pulled out the lot. Clark closed his eyes again this time calmly as his brain painted the picture of how close Bruce’s face was when he had saved him. The feeling of Bruce’s hand clutched in his back. How his hand had somehow dented a car door. Then when he was standing under the rain like some twisted version of a dark angel watching over him. "He saved me." Clark murmured as drowsiness started to creep into every inch of his body. "Saved you? Who saved you?" Lois asked. "...Bruce." Clark whispered. His eyes slowly closing.

Chapter Text

Clark sat on the edge of the hospital bed of the bustling hospital. It had been a few hours since the car outside his school had almost crushed every bone in his body outside in front of everyone. He tapped his thighs nervously as the final bits of adrenaline made their way out of his body.
Lois and Jimmy had insisted on taking him to hospital to get him checked out even if he had felt fine. He felt great actually. There wasn’t a speck of hurt on his body. He was unscathed and unhurt. All thanks to Bruce. A million questions began to run through his mind.
Why did Bruce save him?
How did Bruce save him?
The racing thoughts in his mind came to a halt as a tall man opened the door to his room. Clark looked up at the man. He was dark haired and pale just like…
“Hello there Clark. I’m Dr. Wayne.” He extended his hand towards him. Clark took his hand in his. His breath hitched once again at the icy embrace. Like father like son he supposed.
“I heard from your friends you had a close encounter with a car accident. Is that right?” Dr. Wayne asked as he sat in the rolling chair in front of Clark. “Look here…” He held a finger out as his other hand held a small flashlight. Tracking the movement of Clark’s blue eyes.
“You might experience some post-traumatic stress but your vitals are fine. Not seeing any signs of head trauma.” He muttered as he turned the light off and put it back in his pocket square.
“Yes sir. I’m honestly fine though. The car didn’t even touch me.” Clark explained. Rolling his wrist. “Bruce was actually there; he was the one that…saved me. Pushed me out of the way that is. He was so fast he came out of nowhere. He wasn’t anywhere near me.” He said softly. Looking at Dr. Wayne’s jet black hair. The resemblance strikingly similar to his son.
Dr. Wayne smiled small. “Well. That’s my son. Always ready for action whether he gets hurt or not.” He brushed off as he returned to the clipboard. “Well you’re all set. I’ll call Jonathan and let him know his son is okay.”
Clark nodded as he slid off the bed and walked to the door. He waved to Lois and Jimmy before hearing the sound of discreet whispering coming from around the corner.
Clark turned as he walked over to the wall and peeked over. It was Dr. Wayne and Bruce conversing.
“This isn’t just about you Bruce. This about all of us. You could’ve gotten caught. What were we going to do if he ran around town telling everyone-” Dr. Wayne whispers to Bruce who is standing there with his gaze held down at his feet. Dr. Wayne stops his words as he looks up at Clark.
Clark immediately pulls back and hides behind the wall. Bruce walks over and leans against the wall.
“Clark. Are you okay?” He asks in a hushed tone.
“How did…Bruce. How did you get over me so fast? It was like…” Clark stammers quietly.
Bruce remains silent for a few seconds. His eyes darted all over Clark’s face.
“What do you mean? I was right next to you, Clark.” He whispers.
“No. No. You were not next to me Bruce, you were all the way on the other side of the parking lot. You were nowhere near me. Don’t lie to me. You were next to your car all the way over there.” Clark says. Frustration laced in his tone.
Bruce studied Clark’s frustrated expression as his face remained unchanged.
“No. I wasn’t.”
“W-what? Yes you were. You were nowhere near me.”
“I was next to you.” He insists.
“I’m not lying to you.” He said again. “You hit your head really hard Clark. I think my father should check in on you again.” He said as if he was doing him a favor.
Clark breathed heavily as his eyes searched Bruce’s.
“Bruce you…stopped the car. With your bare hand. You left a dent in the side of the car. Your wrist should be broken. Hell, your entire arm should be broken. But it’s not!” Clark whispered. Bruce’s expression never changed. He kept his hands in his pockets as he looked at the wall then eventually at Clark again. Clark slowly pointed a finger at Bruce.
“I’m going to figure out exactly how you did that Bruce. Trust me.” Clark promises. His eyebrows furrowed deeply in anger. An emotion he rarely lets show. Bruce stares through his eyes before turning on his heel and leaving.
Clark stands there as his breathing returns to normal as Lois and Jimmy walk up behind him.
“Was that Wayne?” Jimmy asks, mouth full of chocolate. Smearing the chocolate over his lower lip.
“Sure was.” Lois sighs as she crosses her arms.
Clark remains standing there. His fists curled at his sides.

“I want to know everything about Bruce Wayne.” His voice comes out in a low tone.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Clark researched Bruce. His earlier frustration with the mysterious man grew into something more curious. What was Bruce Wayne really like? Who did he talk to and who did he despise?
Did he…despise Clark? He hoped not.
Clark was sitting outside on the porch of his new home looking at his notes as he looked up and saw a familiar figure. It was his next door neighbor, Oliver. He smiled warmly at the blonde as Oliver nodded back.
Oliver walked over to Clark as he leaned against the railing of the porch. “Doing your homework?” he asked with a smile. Clark looked at his scribbled notes about Bruce then back at Oliver again.
“Yeah, something like that.” he replied, still smiling. “Are you helping your father with his truck again?” Oliver nodded as he followed his gesture to the truck behind them.
“Sure am. The poor girl is on her last leg. My dad’s had this truck since I was like eight. It was bound to happen anytime soon.” He said putting his hands on his hips.
“Well I’m sorry. It must be hard.” Clark said softly, “letting go of something that's been with you for so long.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes at Clark’s soft tone and empathy. His lips curled into a smile.
“Yeah…thanks Clark. It’s not a big deal. It’s a car Dad will just buy a new one.” Oliver said, sitting next to Clark on the swinging bench.
Clark closed the notebook as he nodded looking ahead at the trees as the wind whistled through them. Oliver looked at the trees then at Clark.
“Your eyes are blue.” He said softly. Clark’s cheeks flushed as he smiled.
“Yeah I grew them myself.” He replied. Oliver laughed as his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“You’re very funny Clark.” Oliver said as he patted his back with force. Clark laughed nervously as his body jerked from each pat.
“Thank you. I guess?” He replied awkwardly. As Oliver stood from his seat and began to walk away from the porch, an overwhelming need took over Clark.
“Wait! Sorry…wait. Do you…happen to know Bruce Wayne? He’s this guy I know in my um Biology class. Just wondering.” He rambled as he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the relentless fidgeting. Oliver stopped in his tracks without turning around. His hands at his sides began to curl in on themselves. He looked over his shoulder.
“Whatever you do. Stay away from Bruce Wayne, Clark.” He turns around and looks into Clark’s eyes. “I mean that.”
Clark stopped smiling as he nodded slowly. His eyes never leave Oliver’s. “...Why?”
Oliver looked to the side then at Clark. “He's a vampire. He’ll take you in his company. Make you feel very…great. Then he’ll slowly close in on you. Take everything from you and when he’s done he’ll toss you to the side like you’re a used out toy. You, Clark Kent, are fresh meat for this guy.” Oliver said in a stern tone.
“And you Oliver Queen? How much blood do you have left?” He whispered under the breeze of the wind.
“Way more than I should have after knowing Bruce Wayne.” He replied then walked away. Clark followed him to the edge of his property. "A vampire." Clark repeated smiling. "He can't be that bad." Oliver turned around and looked at him once again. "Look up the legends then get back to me." He said soft then walked away once again.