Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for the idea and only a few characters scattered throughout the story. Everything else belongs to DC Comics.
Special thanks to: Barbara who has re-read my story several times. Posting this story in english wouldn't have been possible without your help and I really love your proposals!
His Sun
He was in darkness.
It was dark and cold. Colder than any other place that he had become acquainted with. But he wasn't freezing.
It was lonely there.
He knew above all reasons, that he was alone there. He simply felt it.
No sound. Not one tone disrupted the silence.
Dark, cold and quiet.
Not absolutely pleasant, really somewhat disturbing, but he wasn't afraid.
It was bizarre. As if he had known that he would land one day at this place. As if he had waited for this place - or the place for him?
He let himself drift, oddly enough enjoying the quietness of this place. There was no reason for hurry or activity anymore. No reason to be sad, to be angry, to laugh. There was only him and the darkness, the cold and the quiet.
His thoughts danced around like leaves in the wind, first slowly, spinning tranquilly toward the ground, and then hectically rotating, toys driven by invisible fingers.
Things, events, appeared before his eyes. Partly almost forgotten things from the past, partly new and exciting. For a moment he was surprised but then the pictures of the more distant past became lighter, transparent – whereas those of the recent past became seizable, almost real like figures in a game of chess.
He saw his dog. The very first one that he had seen on Earth. A furry shape with four paws and a long, pink tongue. Shelby. The dog had leapt upon him and it had seemed to be giant. In the background, he was able to see his Earth father, who worriedly called something, but voices from the past had no sound in his memory and so all remained quiet as the dog's face became more and more transparent and finally disappeared.
He saw his desk in the Planet Building. Not so large as the one before but sufficient. The computer more modern, better equipped. The lamp that hung obliquely above the monitor had a small defect. The light flared at regular intervals. It did not disturb him. The lamp illuminated the area around his desktop, but a part of the light fell on the picture on the wall, the picture which Jason had given to him. The boy had written "Welcome Home" on top of a laughing sun he had painted.
The sun became larger, lighter, almost painfully dazzling in his memory, so that he involuntarily closed his eyes.
That painful light!
But – he was Superman, the Man of Steel, he shouldn't feel pain!
His thoughts vanished and left him back alone in the cold darkness. He was confused. All at once he felt a sense of something indefinably wrong in this place. As if he had forgotten something, something important. Something which only he was able to settle.
He tried again, and again he couldn't remember.
First there was the dog. The damp tongue. He was able to see the drops on the tip of the tongue and felt laughter. But there was still no sound. No movement sensed inside him .
The sun. He was surprised to find the picture on his desk. He had been away only a short time to get some coffee (and to prevent a bank robbery) and when he came back the picture was lying there, Jason waving at him as he went with his father to the elevator. He knew he waved back. But his arm didn't feel as if it could respond. His arm – felt nothing. Or couldn't he feel his arm?
Without thinking he tried to look around. It was as if he were captured in nothingness. No light. No sound. No warmth. No body. But his intellect was still there, and his memories.
What a macabre joke! A cruelty worse than even Lex Luthor would have been able to imagine.
And suddenly the memory reappeared!
He saw Luthor in front of him, planning to recreate New-Krypton. A continent of his very own. Wasn't that idiot able to see that this wouldn't work? That on New-Krypton other rules would be valid? Other laws? Namely those of a world that had sunk a long time before. A world, that differed so profoundly from Earth, that only one of the two could exist. Either New-Krypton or Earth.
No, this criminal did not see that. He saw only that this was a way to earn money, to obtain glory and finally to get the respect that he had always wanted. Collateral damage didn't matter to him. He was indifferent to any harm he caused. He was the powerful Lex Luthor – and everyone else should take care of themselves.
Fortunately Superman was different. And so Superman had challenged him, had dived into the sea in order to rip out the evil root. Like a weed, he thought suddenly. He had torn New-Krypton out of Planet Earth like a dandelion out of a rosebush. Would someone now do that to him? Was he a weed?
More and more of his memories came back. He saw himself flying, pushing the gigantic stone chunk that had been a part of Krypton in front of him. He felt the kryptonite burn in his veins but somehow he mustered the strength to push down this feeling. Too many depended on him, he couldn't fail now!
Then it had become dark. For a tiny moment it was silent before a deafening clatter announced the explosion of the stones as they burned in the Earth's atmosphere. Smoky clouds of dust formed and little pieces broke away to fall back into the ocean. Luckily they were too small to harm anything. So he flew further on, and pushed the rocks into space with excessive strength. His muscles trembled and his eyes filled with tears from the dust. But he didn't give up. He was able to sense the sun. During the entire time that he flew and fought, he sensed its rays on his skin. The light gold that burned normal humans but strengthened him. Only because of that was he able to fight his way through.
Finally the stone was in orbit and broke as if by magic into a thousand pieces. They flew around him, enclosed him, wrapped him up and covered the sun.
Suddenly it was dark and cold. He wasn't able to see anything – not the stones that crashed against him and drilled through his suit into his skin, nor his way back. Again he struggled and tried to get out of the rocks, attempted to find the path that would show him where he must go. Yet he wasn't able to see anything. Only feel. More and more stones clattered on him. Scratched and scraped him. He screamed.
Then he fell.
He knew it, but he wasn't able to do anything about it. His thoughts faded and then died. His perceptions disappeared. No more bleeding wounds. No pain. Nothing more.
The impact must have been hard. He hoped that he hadn't injured anyone.
But where was he now? Was he dead? Injured? Buried under rocks? Under New-Krypton?
The thoughts caused panic to arise in him. He felt powerless for the first time in his life and helpless. It must not end this way. Not under rocks. Not now. It was...
He wanted to scream, but it was like before when he was unable to use his arm. The thought was there as well as the willpower, but nothing could change it into reality. He could not do it. At the same time, unspeakable fear controlled his intellect, driving him nearly mad.
He had experienced so much, had seen so many things, had helped so many people. So it could not end. Not this way.
Nevertheless this seemed to be the end. For the darkness remained and ruled all. The cold penetrated all his thoughts and then he began to freeze. It blocked his breath and made him float.
There was only the darkness, the cold and himself. Nothing more or less.
His thoughts screamed. Once again he tried to escape. And again he failed. He knew he was trembling, but still he didn't feel anything.
He saw the dog's tongue, but he did not sense any moisture.
He saw the sun, but the paper did not crackle.
Then his thoughts focused and images became clearer. The sun was bright on the paper. Laughing happily. A little boy's sun. Lois' son. So small, so brave, so kind in greeting a stranger.
Again he saw the sun in front of him. Saw it growing brighter, and becoming lighter. Once more his eyes were full of tears but this time he continued to look. This sun was better than the darkness. Better than the loneliness. It did not burn, it warmed. It was light enough, even if he still wasn't able to find his way. Jason's sun.
He smiled when he thought of the little boy. He would have liked to get to know him. Was it right what Jimmy had said? Was the boy like his mother? Or more like Richard, his dad?
For an instant a feeling flared up in Superman. A feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. It took a while to define it. Jealousy. He was jealous of Richard. The man had what he desired. Lois.
The love of his life. Yet he wasn't angry with Richard. He was grateful to him. It was good to know that Lois had found a man who was worthy of her. An honorable man. A man who gave her everything that he, Superman, wasn't able to give her. A child, a home, a life.
Suddenly Superman enjoyed being in the nothingness. It was only a matter of time until Lois and Richard would marry. Superman had seen the love in Richard's eyes, unrestricted and devoted. Yes, he was the right man for Lois. But could Superman bear to see the couple being happy?
It was only a matter of time. People grew older. Relationships changed. Nothing remained as before. However. He was still alone. The same small-town boy that had started his journey to Krypton five years ago. The same man who loved the same girl. Nothing had changed for him. Nothing at all.
Except that now there was a sun hanging over his desk.The sun of a little boy whose mother he loved. Again he imagined the sun was becoming brighter. It warmed him for a precious moment. He examined it more closely. He saw the negligent stripes that the yellow pencil had left on the paper. Each one was necessary to yield the complete picture. Alone, they were meaningless, senseless. It was what he considered his life to be. Everything together yielded Superman, alone, it made nothing.
He tried to shake his head and was frustrated when that was impossible for him, too. He objected to spending eternity under rocks with only thoughts like that.
Better to look at the sun again. To admire the smile, that consisted of a small stroke. The twinking eyes. The sunbeams.
Was he mistaken or had it become lighter around him? Warmer?
He wasn't mistaken. His eyes were unlike human eyes. He was yet able to discover traces of brightness where people were blind like moles. Yet it was dark, too dark to recognize anything, but lighter than before.
And then there was a sound.
Suddenly he felt paralysed. He heard something. A sound that was so weak that the silence might overcome it. A soft, but pressing sound.
Troubled, he opened his mind. He did not dare to concentrate on anything else. Neither on the light, nor on the painted sun. Only on the sound, that became slowly clearer. A voice.
Heat began to flow through his veins. Lois.
She spoke softly, whispering, as if she only trusted his super-hearing. He was not able to understand what she said, but she spoke to him. He knew it. She was there. Somewhere in his darkness.
Then he felt her hand. Like a butterfly's wing it lay on his shoulder. Warmed his cold muscles. Made his skin crawl. He could smell her perfume!
His heart raced, drowning out her voice for a few precious moments. He wanted to curse but stopped himself by quickly biting on his tongue. Nothing was allowed to escape his perception. Not a word.
Then she was silent.
Was she still there?
Or was he alone again?
Butterfly wings on his lips. Her fragrance in his nose. One lock of hair touched his cheek. And then she was gone.
Again he was alone in the darkness which began to dissolve. His thoughts raced like his beating heart. Had he heard correctly? Had her last words in fact been those? Really those?
Yet he still couldn't believe it he felt something again. A shaking, a swinging. He was pressed down on his side. Something strong leaned against him, touched his other shoulder. Similar to Lois and yet... different. Then he felt lips on his cheek. A child's mouth. Jason.
Lois' words passed through his brain.
The child smelled of chocolate, his inhaler and chalk. Jason. Lois. Family.
All at once he saw the sun again. Not the one on the paper, but instead the real one. He was able to recognize the veil of mists, which hid the round ball of light. But also the wind that whirled around it. And he felt the sun on his skin. Energy came back into his limbs.
He did not know where he was.
He only knew that he was not underground.
The coolness in his limbs was now replaced by warmth. The quiet by an irritating but welcome beeping and the darkness by diffuse light.
He opened his eyes.
The End