Chapter Text
“Dear Bruce Wayne-
“Dear Clark Kent-”
“We are happy to inform you-”
“We are happy to inform you-”
“That you have been admitted into-”
“That you have been admitted into-”
“The university of Gotham-”
“The university of Gotham, entirely funded by the Extraordinary Individuals Funding programme-’
“We hope to see you-”
“-at the start of the semester”
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“Well, Master Bruce, isn’t this terrific news?” Alfred said as he neatly folded the letter and tucked it away in his breast pocket.
Bruce seemed to not entirely be sure of it.
“It would have been weird to not admit the son of Thomas and Martha Wayne into the university they helped fund, no?”
“Bruce,” Ah, a lack of the master prefix, always a bad sign. Or good, depending on who you’d ask. “Are you accusing the university of Gotham of dealing in nepotism?” Bruce wanted to interject, but Alfred’s stern, quick pace left no room to do such a thing. “You’re a highly intelligent young man, everyone who has ever met you can acknowledge that. You’d be admitted into this school whether your last name was Wayne, or not.”
Bruce sighed, the slightest hint of a smile quickly being sucked back in when Alfred looked at it. No matter. A smile of his own appeared on Alfred’s face. The dimples in his cheek causing some more wrinkles to form around the area.
“Well then, I shall start making preparations for this, you just worry about deciding how to make friendly contacts when you finally go.”
“Business contacts.” Bruce reminded Alfred.
“Whatever you desire to tell yourself, Master Bruce.”
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Clark finished reading the letter aloud to his parents, blinking at the words. Maybe, when he opened his eyes a 7th time, the words would say the expected. That he was not accepted. Let alone had tuition money. No way that this was real.
“I-” He attempted to speak, but his attempt was cut off by the crushing hug his parents gave him. Even for having only the strength of regular human beings, this hug pushed some air out of Clark’s lungs.
“We’re so proud of you son.” His mother’s voice was soft, yet managed to fill the entire room. The only thing that filled in the syrupy-thick air in the room other than her voice was his father’s muffled agreement.
Clark’s arms carefully moved around his parents, making sure to hug them back with just the right amount of strength.
“I couldn’t have done it without you guys.” Was all Clark could mutter in reply.
Martha Kent was the first to pull away from the embrace, wiping tears away from the corners of her eyes.
“Well then,” She spoke with a tremor in her voice, “ Looks like we’ll have to get everything arranged for you to go over to gotham city for your first semester huh? Let’s go shopping soon to get you some new fancy duds!”
“Ma, that really isn’t so necessary-” Clark attempted to interject. Again, useless. You can be an alien with the force of a thousand men but even then you don’t talk back to a midwestern mother who’s got her mind set on something.
“Nonsense son, this is a prestigious school you’re going to!”
Clark looked at his father for help, already feeling bad enough to have put his family through the stressful admission process. His father, however, only shrugged and looked at him as if to say ‘You expect me to not agree with her?’
No, no he did not.
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Bruce stepped out of the car’s passenger’s seat and closed the door behind him. Gotham’s shopping district was loud and alive with the sound of thousands of people chattering about their own lives. How he loathed it. Oh, oh no, not the shoppers themselves, not at all. He actually found some enjoyment out of people-watching in Gotham, the shopping district was not exempt from that strange little hobby.
No, the loathsome part was the - everything else about it. The volume of people’s voices all mixed together into a bitter noise-soup, the obnoxiously colorful signs that beckoned in consumers, with luxurious promises for the price of next to nothing, and so on. What a nightmare. All of this just to go pick up some tailored outfits for the new semester.
If Bruce could press pause on it all, to turn down the noise, to limit it all, he would, every day, for hours on end.
Luckily Bruce wasn’t sent out to the cacophony that was downtown Gotham alone. Alfred, his trusty butler and -more importantly - friend through life was with him.
“Let us go now.” Alfred said as he tucked his driving gloves into his pockets and gestured forwards.
Bruce winced a bit when he noticed a small girl crying. No harm done really, neither her or her parents could do anything about the outburst of emotion. Even the most composed adults could fall victim to a public breakdown. Still, there were more pleasant noises in the world.
Even though Bruce had attempted to not let his grimace show, Alfred was quick to catch on. As always. Always reliable Alfred.
“Oh- apologies master Bruce, I should have accounted for the streets to be this busy.” As he talked, he pulled a small, tin case out of his pocket and handed it over to Bruce.
“What is this?”
“Just open it and put them in master Bruce, I figured that an aid like this might be necessary with you leaving the manor for more things than quiet meetings.” Alfred explained, not answering his question. Always reliable, but still with some traits that ticked off Bruce’s need for direct answers. Still, he fulfilled Alfred’s demand and opened the tin box.
In it were two small pieces of soft plastic. It took a moment for Bruce to identify them, but as soon as he did, his heart swelled a bit. Just the very tiniest bit.
They were two small earplugs designed to fit his ears perfectly.
With great haste he put them in. As suspected, they conformed to the shape of his ear perfectly. No necessary noise was lost as they only filtered out background noise. That, compared with the sleek design, made them absolutely impeccable.
“I- Thank you very much Alfred. You’re right, this will help tremendously. Thank you.”
Alfred smirked, deciding not to call-out Bruce’s double thankfulness. The young man had enough to be concerned about. No need to add embarrassment onto that list. No, instead they had to start work on their actual to-do list. And they had to hurry, or else they’d miss their fitting appointment at their tailor. No time to waste!
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Jonathan Kent’s knees had gone through a lot. He had been tilling the fields of the Kent family farm for about as long as he could walk. Add on top of that raising a small alien baby to young adulthood and you have knees that are worse off than one’s that have gone to war and back.
So why then did it seem like Pa Kent’s knees were ready to buckle now. Now, as Ma Kent piled heaps upon heaps of new clothes onto her husband.
“Ma it’s okay please we don’t need this a-”
“Nonsense my darling boy!” Martha yelled out - making Clark’s cheeks turn red with embarrassment- as she pulled out, yet another, semi-formal navy blue button-up.
“What d’ ya think?” She smiled as she held it against her son’s chest. Way too small, of course. Nevertheless, it was a nice little shirt, no need to bash it.
“Seems great Ma, we just gotta take ‘em a couple sizes bigger. And- how about I carry the clothes?” He asked the last bit with a pained smile. Really, the old politeness rule his mom honored like the bible of ‘the one who’s getting shopped for doesn’t lift a finger’ got a bit ridiculous. Fidgeting a bit with that rule when your son has the strength of several men seemed only normal. To him. Not to his mother.
“Nonsense!” Ma Kent exclaimed. “Now try this on.”
Another handful of shirts from the bargain bin hit Clark in the chest.
“Yes ma’am,” Clark said with a half-joking huff before heading to the changing rooms.
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Bruce sat in the backseat, staring out of the tinted windows of the jet-black mustang. The Gotham city university was a familiar sight. How could it not have been? Even as a small boy, he drove past it, his mother in the backseat alongside him as Alfred drove the family to where-ever his parents needed to be that day. Once or twice, his father had made a comment about it. How Bruce would one day be able to go there, and- of course- be on top of his class. Even then, Bruce disliked the thought of it.
He could give a valid reason. Maybe. If he thought long and hard about it. Perhaps it was the existence of another environment that was supposedly ‘perfect’ for him , while it was very much not. Or perhaps it was the being lectured on things he already knew- ‘thought’ he knew, Alfred would remind him.
“It is a lovely view master Bruce, but I’m sure it’s even lovelier on campus.” Alfred spoke matter-of-factly , not moving to look back at Bruce. Perhaps he realized that any more eyes on the young man would be a bit too much for him.
“I’m sure you’re right, Al,” Bruce responded, not making any attempt to move from his seat. Alfred chuckled to himself, barely loud enough for Bruce to hear.
“You know, Bruce, I know you’re not too thrilled about this new experience but I’ve found that when you go into these environments to learn, you find lessons that stick with you for life. Not the lessons that’ll get you a degree, but lessons that make you into a new man.”
Bruce moved his gaze from the window to the front seat, attempting to look at Alfred’s face through the rear-view mirror. No luck. Alfred had elected his hands to be a much more interesting sight.
“Thank you Alfred, but like I said, this is more so an opportunity for-”
Alfred now looked at the mirror, catching Bruce’s gaze.
“For business contacts, yes, I know. But allow yourself to broaden your horizons. One step at a time. Now get out of the car,” Alfred smiled to himself. “It's no sight for a Wayne to be late on his first day, no?”
Bruce mentally cursed his dearest and oldest friend as he unbuckled his seat belt. “you’ll be-”
“Yes Bruce, I’ll be here to pick you up when classes end, not a single worry.”
Bruce found himself relaxing just the tiniest bit. At least that constant of his world would remain undisturbed. Thank god.
“Thank you, Al. I’ll see you then.” With that, Bruce stepped out of the car, and into his scariest adventure yet: navigating higher education.