Vermilion

Chapter 2

"My destiny? You helped keep us apart for years and now you claim Lana's part of my destiny?" Unbe-freaking-lievable! Clark thought. "Besides, you know how much I love having a 'destiny.' Destiny has always equaled 'no choice' in my book."

"Kal-El, I know how you react to the mere mention of you having a destiny. I think it's past time I explain just exactly how I am using that word. It may help clear up some of your anxieties."

"What about Lana? Is she okay?"

"Miss Lang lost consciousness briefly. I will keep her that way until I have said what you need to hear. No harm, whatsoever, will come to her."

Jor-El gathered his thoughts while Clark waited with poorly-concealed impatience, and Lana still cradled in his arms.

"Kal-El," Jor-El said, "when I refer to something as being 'your destiny,' I'm not referring to a pre-planned outcome that you have no choice about. Instead, I refer to something that is a natural choice, almost unavoidably so, for one of your talents, upbringing, and beliefs.

"You will end up choosing your 'destiny' to be the protector of this world, not because you have to, but because the man raised by Martha and Jonathan Kent needs to save people, and this will be saving people, taken to the Nth degree."

Clark tried to assimilate what he had just been told. "You mean…it's my destiny because it's the only choice I would really make, and not because I don't have a choice?"

"Precisely, my son."

"What about Lana? How is she 'my destiny?' It looks like two of us have to make choices there."

"With Miss Lang, things are more complicated."

"That's what I always say," Clark interjected. "She's always hated it whenever I tell her that, and now I'm beginning to see why."

"I refer to her as being 'your destiny' because no matter what anyone, including me, has done to tear you two apart, you always seem to find your way back to each other."

Jor-El then shifted gears and spoke in a manner Clark had never heard before from the bodiless voice. He could swear that Jor-El was showing compassion. "As sure as day follows night, Kal-El loves Lana Lang. There is nothing you can do about it, so stop trying, it will only cause you both more unnecessary pain." With a voice that was now crackling with emotion, Jor-El finished quietly. "Please, Kal-El, take it from an old man who knows a few things about the subject of pain and loss."

Thinking quietly, and holding in his arms a woman who greatly resembled Louise McCallum, Clark got the point. "I know about Louise, Father. I know of your loss. I felt your love and your pain. The way you felt about Louise is the way I feel about Lana, except…except I feel it more. Lana and I had a lot longer together to deepen our love. She's my world, and I would do anything to save her."

"Anything but allow her to be herself, to make her own choices, to be the woman you fell in love with in the first place. You would gladly smother the love of your life in a misguided attempt at saving her." Clark could hear the disapproval in Jor-El's voice. "Some man you are."

"What do I do then?"

"Let her in. You'll come to find she is as much of a help to you, if not more, than you are to her…I guarantee it."

Even though Jor-El had no face to look at, Clark still looked down at his toes as if afraid to look his father in the eye.

"I…I'd like to ask a small favor."

His voice sounding non-committal, Jor-El asked, "What is your wish, Kal-El?"

"I would wish, if it's possible, for you to restore Lana's memories. I'd like it if she could know what happened during her lost day."

"Yes, it is possible…but no, I am not going to do it for you." Clark barely had time to jerk his face back up to eye level before Jor-El added, "As much as Miss Lang needs to know all about you, she needs, just as much, to hear it from you. From the man you are today, not the man you were a year ago. She's grown since then and has a different perspective on things than that Lana Lang. Those memories won't suffice now."

Clark looked down at Lana's peaceful form. Since the day he had broken up with her, he'd always looked at her and tried to see the ways in which she was still the same as he remembered. Now, he tried to make note of the changes.

"Besides," Jor-El said, "it is time for you to grow up. It is time to face her. Boys make excuses, men deal honestly with their mistakes. Only you can make this right."

Clark contemplated the task his father had just set for him, and he shuddered.

"Bring her back, Father," Clark said. "I have a sneaking suspicion that this won't go nearly was well as the last time we had this conversation."

Clark swept a few stray strands of hair off of Lana's face as her eyelids began to flutter. "Wha…where… where am I?"

In my arms, where you are supposed to be, Clark thought, as he said, "With me, in the real Fortress of Solitude." When Lana's eyes focused on his face, Clark added, "Dearest? We need to have a little talk."

"That sounds good," Lana said. "But how about you do the talking and I'll listen?"

"Mmm…I've got a feeling you'll be doing plenty of talking…and maybe a little bit of yelling, too."

"That bad, huh?" Lana noticed Clark's apprehension and said, "Just remember, there's nothing you can't fix if you want it bad enough."

Seeing Lana and hearing that hopeful statement, Clark knew he wanted it 'bad enough.' He wanted it more than he had wanted anything…ever. He only hoped that would be enough.