Clark Kent awoke one morning, like every morning, struggling to get into his wheelchair. Lois was still on assignment so she couldn't assist him like she usually does. It didn't matter. He wanted to make it on his own. He pulled himself up with the pullies above his bed and pushed himself into the wheelchair that was next to it. Gently pressing a switch on his nightstand, the shades opened up, allowing the morning sun glistening off the Metropolis buildings to flood into the room. It made him feel stronger.

The commute wasn't so bad into the Daily Planet building but what he absolutely loathed was how the other reporters looked at him. They all saw him as a pathetic, abject victim. A victim. Something that he thought would never happen to him. It all happened so suddenly. Metallo was fighting the Justice League when some debris from one of the buildings he smashed into crushed him. They all said he was lucky after that.

Perry walked up to Clark like he was getting special treatment. There was no more Perry storming out of his offices to order Clark to go on assignment. He felt like that piece of debris landed on him too. Perry leaned down to Clark.

"Listen, buddy, I know I said I would keep you at the desk but I need you to go out in the field today. We're overstretched for reporters and…it's an easy assignment. Bruce Wayne is coming in and I just need you to go to the airport and get a few quotes for the copy. Are you okay with that? I mean, I swore that I would never—"

"Whatever you say Perry."

He smiled and strolled back into his office to berate a rookie reporter's fact checking abilities. Clark smiled too. Finally, a chance to prove himself again.

Clark arrived at the airport to see that it was already loaded with photographers, paparazzi, and, of course, hungry reporters looking to get the exclusive for their paper. Bruce's jet was parked directly in front of them with the usual red carpet treatment in front of the stairs jutting out of the aircraft. A quick escape helicopter was at the end of the carpet, taking him to another board meeting for Wayne Enterprise's Metropolis branch. That is if he was sober enough.

Bruce stumbled down the stairs of his jet as dozens of bright shots flashed across the jet. Clark pulled up in front with his pen ready to transcribe any blabber that would come out of his mouth. Bruce, wearing dark sunglasses, continued to try and maintain his composure as he walked steadily to the helicopter. It was a long night for him. All he could remember from it was that the Hiltons throw one helluva party.

Clark pulled up to the red carpet beating the sharks for the front spot. They were obviously not as sympathetic about his position as the other reporters around town were. He liked that. He extended his tape recorder in Bruce's face.

"Mr. Wayne, what do you hope to gain with your company's merger with LexCorp?"

"Uhhh…Kent, isn't it? Well…I…umm…ask me in another hour. I need a long shower and some black coffee. You can quote me on that."

He ducked out and walked steadily faster to the helicopter. Clark rolled furiously to Bruce to beat the other reporters yet again.

"Mr. Wayne! A follow-up!"

He waved him away as his bodyguards held Clark back from getting closer to the chopper. The reporters sneered and snickered amongst themselves as they all started heading back home empty handed. Clark only knew the stories about Bruce Wayne from the papers and hearsay around his circles. About town, he was known as the playboy living off his parents' fat inheritance and, in the journalist community, he was known as the man that finally ran Wayne Enterprises into the ground. Lucius Fox worked the day to day business of the company until one day Bruce decided to take the helm himself. It sunk the company into so much debt that he ended up having to beg LexCorp to buy half of the company's already toxic assets.

Bruce strolled up to the front of the helicopter asking the pilot to step out by slipping a few thousand in his pocket. He pulled up to the gears and the helicopter sprung to life. Clark and the reporters turned around as the helicopter lifted itself laboriously off the ground with Bruce at the controls.

If anything else was known about Bruce, he was a constant showman. Always trying to impress someone with the skills he learned from correspondence courses from prestigious universities across the world or any other thing he could throw money at. One week it was magic. Another week it was using his newfound knowledge in chemistry to make table salt for party guests. This week it was flying a helicopter. Then again, some of them never really worked out.

The helicopter began to spin erratically. The reporters stuck around and started placing calls with their news agencies about Bruce's latest publicity stunt. Bruce tried to wrangle with the controls in vain as the helicopter spun faster and faster around until it was on a collision course with his parked jet. As they saw this, the reporters fled in all different directions. Clark tried to wheel himself away but, in the resulting pandemonium, he was pushed over on his side. He tried to pick himself up as his calls for help were in vain. As the helicopter spun closer to the jet, Clark shielded himself with his chair, even though he knew that wouldn't help at all.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar whoosh come from the air. He looked up to see a man carrying the out of control helicopter and placing it with ease on the ground. With his own hands, he stopped the rotating blades and lifted Bruce from the pilot's seat. He was already passed out either from terror or the alcohol. Through all of this, the reporters started to crowd this man but he parted through them so he could walk over to Clark. He extended his hand and helped Clark back into his seat. Clark stared in wonder at his savior and with glee remarked:

"Thank you, Superman."