ISSUE 16:
Ryan finished off drying his hair and pulled out a fresh t-shirt from his new bedroom wardrobe. Since he'd quit being Ryan Connolly, Bruce had let him take a room in the mansion.
His room was spacious and the walls were cream. The floor was made out of white marble and carpets were dotted around the room. It had a king sized bed, ensuite bathroom and large mirror and balcony at the back.
It'd been two days since their encounter with the psychic Black Manchester and since then Kal-El had either been sleeping under a light which replicates the rays of the sun, testing his powers or flying around the world; thinking.
Ryan dressed himself, still warm after his shower, and made his way downstairs. As he passed the lounge, he could hear rapid typing on a keyboard, only one person could type like that and it was Clark.
He wandered in, his socks padding against the marble tiles, to see Clark dressed jeans and a t-shirt; sitting on the couch with a laptop, and since he was inside the Manor he didn't have to don his glasses.
"What you doing?" Ryan asked, vaulting the couch and sitting next to the alien.
"Master the Internet," he replied with a smile. "But I'm also looking at what occupations are on offer for me?"
"A job?"
"Well it's been great living here but if Clark Kent is going to be a person; if I'm going to be a person, then I'm going to need a job and my own place to live."
"But can't you just stay here?" Ryan asked hurriedly. "If you want Bruce could give you a job at Wayne Enterprises and you can just stay here."
"Look Ryan, I like living here but you guys set me free from that cell to become my own person. I don't mind being Superman but I want to be Clark Kent too and Clark Kent needs a life of his own."
Clark turned back to the Internet search and Ryan stared into the blazing fire which he presumed Alfred had tended; he was old but he still worked to his maximum, which scared Ryan sometimes.
He thought about Clark leaving Wayne Manor. In a matter of days, Clark had grown on him and Ryan felt rather attached. It was almost like a paternal feeling, after he'd rescued him from the prison and watched him grow into a super powered vigilante. But like every good parent knew, he had to let go.
"Okay so what do you have in mind?" Ryan asked.
Clark looked up from the screen and turned to his best friend and mentor with a smile. "Well I'm thinking about something in the Media; as that seems to be a big industry on your planet."
"Media's a broad business, what would your speciality be?"
"I'm thinking something where I can be in the centre of all the action but never publically seen."
"Maybe a photographer?"
"I was thinking more of a journalist."
"You want to write for newspapers?"
"Yeah, why not?" Clark retorted. "The people who kept me captive fed me, barely, and taught me how to read, write and speak English."
"If you can get a job in it," Ryan smirked. "Though I'm sure Bruce mentioned something about being friends with the Editor of the Daily Planet; a paper in Metropolis, and that he was going to a benefit of theirs in a few days."
"So Bruce could get me a job in the papers," Clark smiled. "This Clark Kent character is really coming to life here."
Bruce's study was a complete contrast to his other office below ground. The walls and floors were wooden panelled and bookcases rose up along the far wall. A window was at the back, it looked out onto the front of the estate and Gotham City sat on the horizon. At the back were a few expensive artefacts and under that was a marble fire place. In the centre of the room was a large oak office desk with a computer and other office supplies on top; the most prominent feature was a black and white family picture in a golden frame.
Bruce, wearing a black turtle neck and grey trousers, was finishing off an email to the formidable business opponent Lex Luthor.
The Bat couldn't just appear in Metropolis and Bruce Wayne couldn't just disappear from Gotham so he had to match up these two events. So what could he do; but contact the bald businessman and propose a meeting which could lead to a merger between the two industrial giants. That would mean he could familiarise himself with the building, be in Metropolis and meet his family business' opponent. Also he would meet an old family friend, Perry White, he used to work as the media correspondent between Wayne Enterprises and the world and now he was Editor of the Daily Planet in Metropolis; and they just happened to be holding an event in a few days time.
He did like it when events panned out like this. He sent the email off and leaned back in his chair. His eyes slowly moved towards the black and white family photo on the desk. In the photo were three people, Thomas Wayne; a Physician and inheritor of the Wayne fortune, his wife Martha Wayne and their eight year old son; Bruce.
He cherished this black and white image as it was taken a few weeks before their deaths. Before the night in crime alley, before Bruce had had his childhood robbed from him and he gained a heap of mental and emotional scarring.
The shots of the small, petty, revolver ran through his mind. His whole life he'd been trying to stop those lead bullets escaping the barrel of the firearm but it was pointless. That was all it took, one bad night with one bad decision, to turn a man from a pompous play boy to a hardened vigilante who took to the streets to defend the innocent.
"Am I doing the right thing?" he asked the picture, desperately wishing an answer would come from the photograph. He stared at the image and got lost in the memory which he wished he could go back to and change.