Rick nods along with aquarium opinions. It is a good aquarium. Perhaps he even likes it a lot, too, or the kid who inhabits the memory of that place did. Detective-work falls into place in bits, and the young man looks back towards the kitchen entrance, as if perhaps longing for a window.

Just to see. Or breathe. They're on the ground floor, surely he's not going to hurl himself out of anything.

"If you're really his friend, you'll get him to stop." Rick looks back at Clark, his expression a sad mirror of the way Bruce shutters himself, sometimes. "You're something special. Maybe he'll listen."