Memories, a Coda for World Without a Superman

Jason White's POV

After all the hullabaloo at LuthorCorp Plaza - almost losing John Connor and successfully destroying the AI seed that might have grown up to be Skynet - Cameron and I made sure John was safe. It had been quite an evening-with the armored Man of Steel and yet another Superman who looked and sounded like my father (at least with half his body in shadow), showing up to put Luthor in check. At length, I finally took a twenty minute jog from Metropolis down to Washington, DC to the Amazon Embassy, to check on the prisoner and an Amazon friend.

Cassiopeia met me on the fifth floor terrace, outside overlooking the Potomac River. She assured me that Melantha was secured in the basement brig under armed guard, stripped of her Amazon gauntlets and armor, wearing a simple grey robe. Not quite finished with the reports for bringing in the rogue Amazon, Cassiopeia asked me to escort Derrek Reese to the Embassy Row Metro Station. She wanted me to make sure he could get to the last Jet Blue shuttle from Washington Dulles Airport back to Truman Airport in Metropolis. I explained it all to him facing the subway map on the boarding platform in the Metro Station.

As the moon rose over the bay, I sat on the Embassy's fifth floor terrace with Cassiopeia. She sipped a glass of Chardonnay. I drank hot pomegranate/blueberry tea; unfortunately there's no Diet Coke in Amazon-land. We made small talk about the mission and view. The Amazon shivered. I offered her the red and black plaid flannel shirt I wore over a black long-sleeved t-shirt.

Time passed.

We confronted the White Elephant between us.

"Jason, you remind me of an American I used to know a long time ago. It seems like I knew him pretty well, too. But I'm not sure how that's possible because it's only been recently that I left the Mediterranean Basin region to take Amazon Diplomatic Security assignments overseas. I'm puzzled."

"When you picked me up from the Paramedics the other day, in Los Angeles, you reminded me of someone too. It took me a while to put it together. Somehow I didn't have Cassiopeia of the Amazons on the same page of my mental photo album as..." I trailed off.

She waited a few beats, "So, you figured it out?"

"I think so." I looked off into the distance and suspected that, for a moment, my eyes looked a lot older than my fifteen years. Maybe I'd just remembered it along with my other deja-vu. Maybe I'd pieced it together from my mom's old pictures and memories from afternoons hanging out in the bullpen for the City Desk at the Daily Planet as a young kid. Either way, who she had once been, seemed clear to me, now.

"Are you going to tell me?" she set the wineglass down on the table and looked across at me.

I considered for a moment. Cassiopeia's transition from big city American news writer to Amazon warrior was still a mystery to me."It will probably be better if you to recall it yourself."

"Where did you get to be so wise?" she mused.

"Watching Oprah with my mom," I said, barely managing a straight face. The very though of Lois 'Mad Dog' Lane being caught watching Oprah by anyone, even her own son, seemed utterly ridiculous; but it seemed like the best sentiment for the moment. I could clear up the white lie later.

I polished off my tall mug of tea and refilled from a kettle that sat next to a plate of dates and walnuts on the table with us. I steeped a fresh tea bag.

I asked her, "Do you know where you were on September 11, 2001?"

"I was...on the Island." she replied.

"But you don't really remember. Do you?"

"No."

"From the time he got back from his trip to Krypton, my father spent a lot of his free time with his best friend from the old hometown, a lady who worked at the Planet with us."

Cassiopeia picked up the thought, "...until she disappeared on September 11, 2001. You used to walk around the bullpen with a trash can on your head and help Jimmy Olson develop the old-timey film photographs he took of Superman."

"I called my father's best friend Aunt Chloe."

The Amazon gripped the arm of her chair with one hand, and her head with the other. "I'll be okay, Jason. Just... Just give me a minute."

I nibbled on some dates and walnuts. I wanted to chow down, but somehow that seemed disrespectful of the moment.

"Oh God, I remember," Cassiopeia wailed softly. " I remember washing up on the Island as a foundling. I remember the ship wreck. I remember the ceremony when I got my powers. I remember being your father's sidekick before his whole cape and boots thing. I remember...everything."

I slid my chair over and gave my mother's cousin a chaste hug. "Welcome back to the Land of the Living, Chloe Sullivan."

After a few more minutes, once my cousin had recovered a little, she turned to me with a sly look on her face. "Did my cousin really watch Oprah with you?"

"No. Are you kidding? Mom wouldn't be caught dead in the same room with anyone watching Oprah." I stood. "I got the idea from those Jason Bourne movies, but don't tell my mom. She still thinks I only watch stuff that's rated PG-13 or less."

I finished off my tea. "I think I'd better be going. I still have friends to see in Gotham, tonight."

"Okay, well let me walk to the front with you." My cousin stood as well and moved to join me.

We walked inside and caught the elevator down to the mezzanine promenade.

Chloe looked lost in thought, probably reintegrating memories. I stepped first out of the elevator and also started first down the grand stair case. But I did look up to make sure she didn't have problems with her footing. Who knew what would happen to muscle memory and coordination?

"I miss him." Chloe said softly as we made our way down the grand stair case.

I slowed to allow her to join me on the same step. "Who?"

"Clark." She paused halfway down to take in the sweeping view of the entranceway to the Embassy. The walls were covered in hand painted frescoes of Mediterranean views. "He was a great guy, both in a sport-coat and shoes and wearing the cape and boots."