More Young Justice Trash

Close Quarters Part Two

-We love that for you, Clark-

Superboy was pretty sure he put the couch back correctly. He had a weird curved bar left over, but he didn't think it was very important. Superman had been at work about two hours, and the clone was starting to consider deconstructing his bed and find out if it could turn into a couch too.

One thing about Metropolis was the noise. He could barely focus on his own thoughts with the honking and yelling and breathing from the street below. At the mountain he usually only had to listen to M'gann's breathing. In fact, the most people he saw/heard regularly was Black Canary and the team, and now he could hear hundreds, thousands, all at once.

Deciding he needed some water, Superboy headed to the sink and waved his hand under it. No water came out. Curiously, he waved his hand  infront of it. Where was the water? At the mountain they usually just waved under it and the water came out. 

He bent over to inspect the faucet. It didn't seem broken...

He jumped at the sound of a deafening ringing. He eyed the sink suspiciously. He bent close to it and leapt back as the bell rang again. There was a pounding at the door and whipped around. Someone was trying to get to him. Was it Cadmus? He staggered backwards and slipped behind the sofa. Crouching, he peaked over the cushion. If Cadmus came in, they wouldn't see him and he could attack and escape. 

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes passed.

Superboy crept out from behind the sofa, crawling towards the door. He pressed against it. The doors at the mountain opened when you stepped near them. He took the big knob and twisted it, peaking into the crack. It didn't seem to work, so he also tried the switch above the knob, unlocked it successfully. Carefully, he pushed it to the side. and then up. out. Finally, he pulled the door and it opened. 

Cadmus wasn't there. He didn't see Docto-- Blockbuster, or Guardian, not even his brethren.
It was just a box. 

Glancing around, he grabbed the box, shutting the strange door again. The box was covered in secret codes. Was it from the justice league? What if it was from the bad guys and it was a trap?

Either way, he ripped through the top of the box with his hands. He found four white pens with words emblazoned on the side: Daily Planet classic and digital news. Next, he found a stack of papers, memo pads and envelopes with the same emblem.

Otherwise, it was just a pack of little white cards: Clark Kent, Investigative Reporter, Daily Planet; and then an address underneath.

It didn't look like a trap, and it didn't seem to be from the league, so Superboy was confused. Leaving the box on the floor, he returned to trying to figure out the faucet.

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"You alright, CK?"

Clark started upright. "Fine, thanks Jimmy." He turned back to the laptop, watching the blurry screen of his half-finished reference page. 

"You sure? Cause I did the coffee run, and, like, you were looking at that same page when I left." The ginger kid set a paper cup next to a picture of Kent farm.

"I'm ok. Just distracted." He sighed, switching to one of his other 15 tabs. All he had to do was finish the references, abbreviate the citations, write the mock up, and then write the real article and submit it; then he was free to start on writing two scripts for video listicles. It was only Wednesday, so he had plenty of time.