Brainy was surprised at how easily the Kents adapted to the revelations he and Clark had just made, although he supposed that he really shouldn't be, considering they had apparently figured it out long before the two teens had 'fessed up. Martha had immediately set to asking him all sorts of questions, which he of course answered warily and with full contemplation of any effects his replies would have on the timeline. Her honest interest and curiousity touched him, though, and he found himself being more open with details about the future Earth than he might have with anyone else.
Even Jonathan put a question to the alien teen every once in a while. Even though it was less frequent and definitely less enthusiastic, Brainy was still glad that Clark's father seemed to be expressing interest that had nothing to do with mistrust, and answered his questions as enthusiastically as he did Martha's. During those conversations he would often catch Clark, who was usually sitting beside him, smiling a little to himself, and Brainy knew that those smiles were for him.
All the smiles and all the encouragement and support from Clark's family didn't stop the nagging in the back of his mind, however. Sure, the Kents were extremely supportive--Querl was actually surprised at how very little they cared about the fact that their son had a romantic relationship with another male--but all their support and all Clark's apparently undying affection couldn't quite quell the little voice that kept reminding him of the late night movie.
He knew he was on borrowed time with his happiness, and when he wasn't around the family, he couldn't bear to keep the smile plastered on his face.
He blamed his preoccupation with the BORG. The innocuous-looking device still sat under a pile of dirty laundry in Clark's room, utterly still and silent, and yet Brainy could feel its presence weighing heavily in the back of his mind. The thing ought not to have been there. It was not only out of time and out of place, but the very fact that it was still intact was...wrong. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something big going on, something bigger than he and Clark and a random piece of alien tech. But he was missing too many of the pieces to be able to fit the entire story of the generator together.
Not only did the mystery of the BORG keep his thoughts whirling 24/7, but the effects that his short-term exposure had had on his psyche. The emotions that he had already held barely in check were running rampant more frequently, and often threatened to overwhelm him and send him into fits of tears, or laughter, or raging screams. He wondered if something had actually gone wrong in its operation, aside from turning on when it should have been asleep or off; there was no way that humans could actually deal with emotions that intense in their day to day lives! And while he shared almost all of his thoughts and worries with Clark, that fact was one that he kept to himself.
Part of him hoped that those irrational feelings were to blame for the record that kept playing and replaying in his head.
He was startled out of his reflective thoughts by a set of arms suddenly wrapping themselves around his middle from behind, lifting his clear off of the ground and tossing him onto the springy mattress, facedown. He wriggled, locked in that iron grip, trying futilely to resist and break free of the hold. It was of course useless; countless play wrestles with Clark had taught him that. But he still liked to think that maybe, just maybe, he could over power the older teen.
Strong hands released him, and he breathed a sigh of relief and began to push himself to his hands and knees, planning to face his assailant and unleash a barrage of something. He wasn't really sure what, yet, there wasn't much that Clark feared. Querl was distinctly at a disadvantage. However, even his intentions to stand and deliver were for nothing, as ten rapidly poking fingers suddenly jabbed into his sides and sent him flopping back down to the mattress, suddenly laughing uncontrollably.
Tears of mirth ran down his face as he tried to force a cry for mercy out through his giggling lips while still attempting to dislodge the tickling hands. He felt himself flipped over and was suddenly staring up at a bright white grin shining from underneath diabolically laughing eyes.
"Call uncle," Clark urged him, his assault lightening a little, and Querl drew in a deep breath that pained his laugh-bruised ribs.
"Un--" Without warning, Clark's fingertips once again assailed Brainy's sensitive sides, and he reflexively jerked into the fetal position, his cry of mercy lost in another fit of giggles.
"No fair!" he managed to gasp out, and Clark relented once more. He looked down at his friend with an expression of concern; the observational android knew it was fake. He took another breath in, and another, wanting to make sure his poor lungs were filled with air before the other teen cut short yet another surrender. They watched each other carefully, Clark waiting for the perfect time to strike, Querl hoping to catch those infuriating hands off guard and call uncle before another barrage could begin. There was silence for a few moments more.
Then Clark grew tired of waiting and began tickling again, this time more insistently, more insidiously, teasing shudders of violently convulsive nerves out of the laughing alien. "Say it," he teased in a singsong. "Surrender!"
Finally Brainy managed to gasp out the plea for mercy, and, after a few last touches, Clark sat back on his knees, still straddling Brainy's thighs where he had pinned the other boy down. His hands planted themselves on either side of the Coluan's head, and he looked down into those violet eyes, which darkened considerably. He planted a light kiss on Brainy's breathless lips.
"Hey."
The nonchalant greeting caused another set of chuckles to issue from the android's throat, and Clark smiled appreciatively. "I love hearing you laugh, you know that? Like, really laugh, not just little "hmhms" like you're so fond of doing at the Legion. Though those are pretty cute, too." He rubbed their noses together affectionately, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Brainy.
"You do realize there are other ways to make me laugh than torturing me with that 'tickling' practice," Querl replied, one long, green finger bopping Clark on the nose. The other grinned.
"Yeah. But those aren't as fun." He kissed him once more, then rolled off and sat on the edge of the bed, offering Brainy a hand to pull himself up to sitting. The Coluan winced and put a hand to his side.
"I think you bruised me," he accused lightly, and Clark laughed.
"So what were you doing up here?" he asked finally, getting up off of the bed and changing out of his work clothes. "I expected Ma would be drilling even more details of the future out of that skull of yours." Querl chuckled and shook his head.
"She said something about going to a friend's place for tea, I think, and heading into Metropolis to do some shopping." He nodded over to the pile of dirty laundry, which had been shifted to reveal the blinking orange light of the BORG's instrument panel. "I've been attempting to determine the significance of the Resonance Generator. It's quite a conundrum, and one that really does need to be solved. Of course, I don't have all the resources at my disposal I should have to help with the research--and I can't go back to New Metropolis to find it because of the very nature of the problem."
Clark nodded his agreement, tossing the plaid shirt onto the pile and picking a white t-shirt out of a drawer in his dresser. He pulled it over his head, and re-arranged his hair in the mirror. "So did you figure anything out?"
Querl sighed, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, still staring at the sphere. "Not really. But it is definitely not good news that its here, Clark. This could cause all sorts of problems, with timelines, continuity, anachronistics, metaphysics..."
"Metaphysics? You mean like existentialism and all that stuff?" Brainy looked at him sharply. "I've seen The Matrix a few times," Clark explained, and Brainy, after a moment of contemplation, decided to accept the explanation even though it made no sense to him. Probably another one of those popular science fiction movies...heh. Fiction indeed.
"Yes. Having an object that should not exist in a time it should not exist in...it brings to mind questions of what else might be lurking under hay bales in people's barns that defies the metaphysics of this time and space. What I mean by that is that there is a very real possibility that if there is one of these impossibles hanging around 21st century Earth..."
"There could be more," Clark finished sombrely, and Brainy nodded. What he didn't mention was the other strange circumstance he had isolated that made this situation even more dangerous than it already was.
The BORG had activated at his touch, not in response to anything he had done to the wiring of the thing. He had re-examined every step of the de-activation process, and it had all been done correctly. There had been nothing amiss with the organization of wires and buttons, nothing wrong with the connections and circuitry. It hadn't been his fiddling that had turned it on; it had been his presence.
Which meant that whoever was responsible for getting the BORG to this farm in this time period of this version of Earth (string theory worlds notwithstanding) knew that he would be here.
It had all been planned.