Disclaimer: I do not own The JSL

A/N: Hi there! this is a collaberation story. Between Firecracker27 and myself the first chapter of this story is based off of Gotham origins prologue because personally I think it is the best wayne tradgedy I've seen. So she has graciously let me use it. So chapter-1 is all me. I wanted to create a fic where Bruce and Clark meet when they are kids. and then grow up from there. So like always enjoy!

Rite of Passage- chapter-1

It was a 3 years since the passing of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Routine slowly returned to Bruce's daily life but it didn't come easily. School was still a struggle for him infact it was so miserable he would drop it somedays all together. If Alfred would permit him, between therapy and shrink appointments, he would be able to do his studies at home.

When summer arrived he would breathe a sigh of relief no bullies to face no media hounds just him and Alfred but...what was even better when Alfred would go out for errands and he was left alone.

It was a hot July afternoon when Bruce entered his back garden. dressed in brown shorts and a simple black t-shirt. He frowned when a memory flashed in his head of his mother attending a marigold bed dawned in a yellow shirt and blue jeans covered in dirt. A blue sun hat on her head pushing the memory in the back of his mind he pushed open the gate to the backyard.

A catchers mitt and baseball in his hand he threw the ball in the air catching it in his glove, he did this several times. He smiled to himself as his imagination took over.

"Batter stepping up to the plate. Bruce Wayne turns the ball in his hand thinking of his first pitch. The game is tied, the crowd watches from the stands for the greatest play of all time to happen..." Bruce gets in position raising his leg pulling his arm back... "Wayne makes his move he pulls back and...

Bruce release the ball pitching it far into the back end of the yard. "STRIKE 1!"

Bruce runs fetching his baseball. "The crowd cheers as the bases are filled up by two!

The young heir positions himself back to the spot on the front of the yard. "Wayne sets himself up for another go the batter's nervous as he licks his lips. His grip on the bat tightens as Wayne lets loose a doozy of a quick shot... Bruce throws his ball right against the water fountain...

" Right smack dab in the umpires glove! The Gotham Knights have a shot at winning this game!" Bruce exclaimed as his imagination ran wild.

Picking up his ball once more he took up his spot. "The bases are loaded. the crowd waits with anticipation the batters shaking with fear. Wayne narrows his eyes raises his arm... and...

Once more Bruce throws the ball this time throwing it into the pruned shrubbery to his left.

"POW! he releases a wicked curve ball that zips pass the batters eye and the umpire removes his mask thrusting up his hand. STRIKE THREE! The crowd goes wild as the players cross the first base winning the came! An-"

"Master Wayne!...Master Wayne!"

The boy turned at the sound of his name. "Coming Alfred!"

Just then the base ball came flying back hitting his foot. Startled Bruce looked down at the ball then back at where the ball had disappeared before. At first there was nothing then the bush rustled the young boy looked back at his manor then at the bush. His curiosity mounting he came closer and closer reaching out...

"Master Wayne!" Alfred called again this time standing by the gate.

Bruce finally decided to drop his curiosity running back to the manor scooping up the ball on his way back.. "Coming."

Alfred met Bruce in the foyer of the mansion taking the ball and mit from him. "I've prepared ice tea and some light snacks in the kitchen."

"Thanks Alfred..." Bruce moved to go down the hall then stopped..."Hey Alfred?"

The butler looked at Bruce. "Yes master Wayne?"

"Is the caretaker on the grounds today?"

"No he's schedueled to be there tommorrow. why?"

"No reason." he replied with a quick smile before making his way to the kitchen.

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For the next few days Bruce encountered odd occurences. The pool would ripple unexpectedly a door would slam shut when he'd be the only one in the house or a curtain would rustle in the study where he would be reading when there would be no wind.

He couldn't explain it. At times he thought he was going crazy. He wouldn't dare mention anything to Alfred or he'd have to start going to a therapist again and he did not want that!

No there was something else going on here but what? maybe his house was haunted. His parents come back from the dead. No realistically something fishy was going on and he'd have to figure out what.

It was one particular muggy evening when Alfred came into his bedroom. "Would you like the windows open tonight Master Wayne?"

Bruce thought for a moment. "No that's ok Alfred I'll keep the fan on instead."

"Very well. Up into bed then." the butler coaxed as Bruce stood beside his dresser.

Bruce hopped into bed as Alfred lay the covers over him. "Will you be needing anything else sir?"

"No that will be all Alfred." the boy stated as he got comfortable.

Alfred gave a soft smile before laying a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. "Goodnight master wayne. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight Alfred." Bruce said.

The butler turned off the light giving a reassuring smile before shutting the door. It was quarter passed two when Bruce shot forward stifling a scream after a moment he calmed himself it was then he realized that his window was open. His eyes followed the muddy foot prints across the floor to the open door. His heart started to pound in his chest he opened his mouth to call for Alfred but no sound came out. Swallowing he summoned up his courage and slipped away from the bed. He knew for sure he wasn't alone he followed the foot prints down the hallway stopping to take a umbrella out of a rack he continued down the uncertain path.

He soon found himself leaning against the wall leading into the kitchen. the light on. Peaking around the corner he saw that the fridge door was open obsucreing everything from view except a pair of grey sneakers. Frowning Bruce took a deep breath.

'You can do this Bruce' he encouraged himself.

Just as the person closed the fridge door Bruce ran pouncing on the intruder. Both let out a a grunt as they crashed to the floor. the plate of leftover dinner and a cup of milk went scattering across the floor.

Bruce stared wide eyed at the person below him. it was almost a carbon copy of himself. Black hair blue eyes the only difference was he was a bit taller and he was more tanned. he wore a black and red plaid shirt with a white t-shirt underneath, blue jeans that had several tears. one above the right knee another on his left shin and near his ankle.

Both boys were silent frozen in there spots.

Bruce didn't move from his spot from on top of the other boy. Then he pressed the end of his umbrella against the others throat. "You came into my room and then you're raiding our fridge. Why?"

Bruce blinked at the others lack of response he then glared at the boy. "You think you can come in here and steal from my house?"

Bruce couldn't believe the innocent look in this kids eyes. He practically trespassed on to private property, broke into his house eating his food.

"What do you want? money? clothes?" Bruce demanded as the boy remained silent.

When he finally did speak it was barely above a whisper. "...I'm sorry."

Bruce anger subsided at the raw sincererity of the apology just then Alfred entered the room a shocked expression on his face as he took in the scene before him.

"What in the world is going on here?!"

Bruce stared at the boy underneath him then finally looked at his guardian. "He snuck through my bed room window. I found him raiding our fridge."

Alfred came forward. "Did you now? alright up off him."

Bruce did as he was told watching as the man hauled the boy to his feet. "Lets take a look at you."

Bruce watched as the other boy avoided eye contact as Alfred walked around him. "You look a little worse for wear... but that seems by appearence as far as your physical shape you don't look like you're starving. So what's your excuse for coming in here taking what's not yours?"

The boy didn't respond only standing there like one who recieves punishment for what he's done wrong, which Bruce found intrigueing most boys would try to run by now.

Alfred sighed. "Right then, if you're not going to tell me at least one would have a name. what is it?"

The boy shifted his wieght from one foot to the other as if fighting a mental battle and then after a moment he answered.

"My name is Clark. Clark Kent."

A/N: We wanted to get the innocence across with Bruce and Clark but yet as they get older you will find changes through there relationship. right now it's new. Reviews and opinions critiques are much appreciated don't hold back!

have a great day!

Kindred spirit.