Chapter Text
Bruce was an adventurous child by nature: he liked to go for walks and play in his backyard. The world seemed so vast to him at this age. He wanted to know everything, he wanted to see everything! To him, there weren't enough hours in the day for him to do everything he wanted!
Then his parents died and his life came to a stop. He didn't even want to come out of his room. At first, Alfred let the boy be. The process of grieving could be a long one at this age. With the trauma he was suffering, it could take a while before he would be able to function.
Alfred tried to be accommodating. He would bring his food to his room, and make sure the boy would wash and groom himself. When he was done with chores he would sit in the room with the child and read to him. It was a week before Bruce started to talk again, and a month before he left his room.
The school year would be starting up soon and Alfred had hoped that he would be ready to go outside by then.
That didn't happen.
Bruce wasn't the kind of child to cry or fuss, but he broke down crying when Alfred said he would have to go to school. That was how he ended up homeschooling the boy. It didn't take much out of his day to give him his lessons. Bruce excelled at almost every subject. With independent studies, he was able to move at his own pace. It wasn't long before he was ahead of his level in academics.
Yet, he wasn't able to interact with kids his own age. The boy had no friends. He kept saying he didn't want any when Alfred suggested a play date or anything of the sort.
He took matters into his own hands. The local school had a pen-pal program. He had to pull a few strings, but he managed to sign Bruce up for it as well.
"You write to them." He explained to Bruce.
"Why would I want to?"
"You'll get to talk to someone who has a different way of life. You might even make friends."
"I don't want to."
"But he already wrote to you." Alfred handed him the envelope. "It would be rude not to reply."
Bruce frowned but took the letter anyways and open it.
Dear Bruce,
My name is Clark. I live in Kansas in a town called Smallville. My house is on a farm. Every day I help my family out with the chores on the property. I usually only help with the chickens and the cows. Sometimes Dad lets me drive the tractor. Mostly I just collect eggs and get the milk in the morning. I also get to miss school for a few weeks when the harvest comes around. It’s only hard because I have to wake up really early.
I go to school in town. It’s far from the farm so the drive is long. My mom packs my lunch and snacks for school. Sometimes my dad drives me into town to do the shopping. If I’m lucky he lets me buy a comic book or two. Do you read comic books?
I play in the town baseball league. I’m not that good unless I focus so I’m one of the last ones up to bat, and almost never get to play outfield. I still like to play with my friends.
What’s it like where you live? Do you like to play sports? What are your hobbies?
I look forwards to hearing from you,
Clark Kent
Bruce looked over the letter three times before he folded it out it back in the envelope and placed it on his desk. He knew that the pen-pal program was most likely a school assignment: this Kent kid didn’t want to get to know him, he wanted to get a good grade and complete his assignment.
“It won’t hurt to send a letter back,” Alfred said. A gentle hand came to rest on Bruce’s shoulder. The boy looked up at him still frowning. It was starting to turn into a pout. “Just write him a few times and see if you like it. If you don’t I’ll let it be, but I think it’s something you should try.”
“Maybe,” Bruce looked away. The gears in his head were turning. “When is dinner ready?”
“It should be done in a bit,” Alfred said. “I’ll look over whatever you write if you need me to.” He left the conversation off about the note to ensure that Bruce would think about it. He knows that he can’t force him to do anything, he could only hope that Bruce would take this as a chance to reach out and talk to someone.
But Bruce was stubborn. He didn’t go near a pen or paper for a few weeks, and when Alfred asked if he was working on a draft, he would switch the subjects. He had taken to sulking in the shadows of the mansion. Alfred had to lay off in fear that Bruce might lock himself in his room again.
“I’m not going to do it,” Bruce finally said. “I don’t want to talk with some strange kid from across the country just because he wants an A in English.”
Alfred nodded and told him that it was okay. The next step was to start brainstorming on something else to get Bruce to socialize. Maybe he should try setting up a play date again. There must be a kid in the area around Bruce’s age who would like to hang out with him. The only issue was if Bruce wanted to hang out with them.
TBC...