This Side of Normal
Smallville Fan Fiction
by Daemonchan
SPOILERS: based on the previews for Leech, snippets from the Premier, Hug and Jitters
Summary: Normal had always seemed just a far away dream. Is it what you really want?
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+normal - (adj.) conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern+
Anything. He would give anything...just to be normal.
Of course it never occurred to him the price that came with that wish, so innocent because he knew in his heart of hearts that it couldn't possibly happen.
He would be doomed to days of hiding... sneaking...and the worst, lying. He hated lying. Each half truth burned his mouth like acid. Every time Lex asked him what his secret was, his patent smile was a little bit less sincere. He could see the distrust building in small strokes behind the eyes of his friend, and that hurt more than the lies he told.
He believed that the truth should always be told, no matter the hurt, the consequences. He refused to lie about his belief in Kyle Tippet, adamant as always about his basic faith in man. Lana was quick to anger and hate, without knowing the whole truth.
Of course, that was normal.
He still felt a little guilty about his motives behind his attempts to befriend the recluse sculptor. He wanted the connection that he didn't feel with anyone else in Smallville, even Lex. The sense of knowing the intimate details of what it took to fit in...and knowing that you didn't match the criteria. He felt this connection with every poor person affected by the strange meteorites, even those who used their sometimes bizarre abilities to terrible ends.
He knew exactly how they felt.
His parents had tried so hard to instill a strong sense of right and wrong...and that included lying. But they were so afraid for him, for his safety, that they too were not above bending the truth a little.
+truth - (n) sincerity in action, character, and utterance+
He knew when it was all right to bend the truth himself. When saving Chloe's feelings about what had happened in the woods while she was under Kyle's influence, telling Lana that he wanted her to be with Whitney...because then his own feelings didn't count as much.
But what kind of truth could he possibly reveal now that he was as human as the rest?
Oh, I'm sorry, Lex. I don't know how I could have possibly gotten you out of your car. Must have been adrenaline.
The adrenaline line was getting old, quick.
And now it wouldn't work anymore. For the first time in his life, Clark Kent, small town boy with a bent for truth and justice, was bleeding.
And it hurt.
Not just physically. He knew physical pain, though it took a hail of bullets from an automatic to truly cause him harm. No, it was sudden mental anguish as he realized that he was just like everyone else.
Anything. He would give anything...just to be normal.
His wish always came back to bite him in the ass. Of course, when you wish for things like that, you want it to be on your own terms, only when you're truly tired of your gift...when you don't need it most. When the people you love, the friends you care for more than your own life are safe at home watching Charmed on a Thursday night, or in Lex's case, just alone in his castle, his own fortress of solitude. Alone but safe.
Safe.
His mind suddenly flashed back to the lighting as it arched through his body. It had been a white hot instant of absolute agony knowing that the boy he was trying to save would serve as a conductor as well, and that he couldn't let go. Then suddenly the pain of just knowing became the pain of feeling as his muscles spasmed and jerked like a puppet on a wire.
Pain was his price. His consequence. An everyday human occurrence that served to remind one that one was still alive even after taking a dive off a bridge, struck by a Porsche going far too fast, that breath still continued even when Earl's very touch made him feel sick enough to die. Even then he hadn't felt pain like this.
Life's little realizations hurt more than the cut on the inside of his lip, the bruises forming on his cheeks. The knowledge that his gift was gone, transferred to this boy without his sense of responsibility, burned. The absolute truth that he was helpless to keep his family safe ached.
He wanted his gift back. If this was what it meant to be normal than they could keep it. Keep their insecurities. Keep the knowledge that they could be hurt by someone else's carelessness.
Clark Kent didn't want to be so normal anymore.
+gift - (n) a notable capacity, talent, or endowment+
The gift was his again. Nature's mystery swept from the sky and returned what was his. His pain disappeared under a rush of strength. His brief human fears evaporated. And with them, any chance, or even desire to be normal. To fit in.
That wasn't what he was meant for.
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::musical inspiration:: Superman - Five For Fighting