Chapter 1.01
I was pouring cereal into my bowl in the kitchen when Clark comes clambering down the stairs. He opens the fridge and starts guzzling the milk, straight from the bottle. Mom shakes her head and hands him a glass.
"It tastes better out of the bottle."
Mom grabs it straight out of his hands and puts it on the table. I eye the bottle. "That's disgusting," I say. "I was going to use that for my cereal."
"You still can," says Clark, smirking.
"With essence of Clark slobber? I don't think so."
"Where did you learn your manners, anyway?" says Mom.
"On a farm," answers Clark.
Ugh. He thinks he's so clever.
Dad comes in through the back door. "Afternoon folks."
He gives Mom a kiss and takes the milk bottle off the table and drinks from it. Clark smiles at mom and Dad sits at the table next to me and kisses me on the cheek. He picks up the newspaper and a piece of paper falls out.
"What's this?" he asks.
"Permission slip," says Clark, leaning on the bench.
"You're going on a field trip?"
"It's for the football team. A couple of spots opened up."
Mom and Dad look at each other. Clark pretends he doesn't notice and says, "They're holding tryouts this afternoon."
Dad's still staring at the permission slip.
"Come on Dad, you played football when you were in school."
"That was different," Dad finally says.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I figure I can run at half speed, and I won't hit anybody. Most freshman hardly play. Chances are, I'll ride the bench most of the season."
I scoff at that.
"Dad I can be careful," Clark urges.
Dad sighs. "You're meant for greater things than football, Clark."
"Like what?"
"I don't know, I wish I did. One of these days we'11 figure out what it is, but until then we've just got to hang in there like we promised."
Clark pushes off leaning against the bench. "I'm tired of hanging in there, Dad. I just want to get through high school without being a total loser."
"Good luck with that," I say.
Clark grabs his backpack and leaves through the back door.
"Jonathan, I think it's time. He deserves to know who he is," Mom says.
"I knew it!" I say. "You really did find him in the trash."
"Don't you have a bus to catch?" asks Dad.
I sigh, leave my dry bowl of cereal and go to the front door to collect my backpack. But I can still overhear them in the kitchen so I linger with my hand on the front door knob.
"That's not good enough anymore. He's changing," says Mom.
"He's still not ready to know the truth."
"Well, when will he be ready?"
"I don't know. We've always been together on this, Martha. Martha sits down next to him, takes his hand."
"There are four members of this family."
"What if he can't handle it? What if he tells someone and it gets out? I don't want anyone showing up, flashing a badge, and taking him away from us."
"Well, if we don't tell him the truth, nobody will have to take him away from us, he'll leave all by himself."
I quietly close the door behind me.
After school I have to meet Clark at his school because of course, I can't be trusted to walk home alone even though my soccer practice is only 45 minutes after school and the sun is still burning bright in the sky. But no. Only the great and strong and freaky Clark can protect me. Apparently.
Clark isn't out the front of the school, but it doesn't take a genius to find him. I go around to the football field and see him sitting alone in the bleachers. He's staring off into the distance, completely unaware I'm standing right next to him.
"Clark!" I yell.
He looks blankly up at me.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Uh…"
"Hey guys! What do you think?" Pete appears dressed in his football getup. It looks a little big.
"You look…professional," I say.
"Are you going to stick around and watch?"
Clark shakes his head. "Sorry, buddy, I'm not into public executions and the spawn of Satan needs me to walk her home."
"Rude," I remark.
Clark doesn't talk as we walk home. He just trudges on a head, me at least five paces behind. Sometimes, Clark would give me a piggyback and he would super speed home. Saves a lot of time. And gas. But not today. Today he's all depressed because of stupid football. I wish my problems were as easy as "can't play football because I have superpowers" but clearly Clark doesn't care about the superpower part, just the no football. Clark forges ahead faster and I give up trying to keep up. I see him on the bridge, looking over the water. Not wanting to interrupt him, I walk over to the opposite side of the bridge and start throwing the rocks littering the side of the road into the water. I try and throw them as far as I can, to see if I'm as strong as Clark. But no. I still have weak little 12-year-old no muscle arms. I hear a car speeding down the road, typical idiot, and really concentrate this time to pelt the rock as far as humanly possible. There is a loud BANG as the rock hits the water and for a moment I think I really have super strength until I hear a horrific crash and squeal. I turn just in time to see a silver car slam into Clark, and off the bridge. I scream.
I run the other side of the bridge and just see a swirl of water. No car. No driver. No Clark. I run to the end of the bridge and down the bank, sliding and skidding on the dirt as I go. When I reach the bottom, I see Clark dragging a man's body out of the water.
"Clark!" I yell.
"I need you to find someone to call 911" he says.
I nod, dump my bag, and run back up to the road. It takes longer as I keep sliding and skidding, it's very slippery. Thankfully I've just made it to the road when I see another car. I wave my arms wildly and they stop. The woman in the car looks worried, having seen the mess on the bridge. "Please," I say as she winds her window down. "Can I borrow your phone, there's been an accident."
"Of course," she says, she fumbles to pull her phone out of her pocket and hands it to me. I get off the road and call. The woman drives to the side of the road and gets out, looking down at Clark and the man. I tell the operator where we are and hand the phone back to her. "Thanks," I say.
"Are they alright?" asks the woman.
"I don't know," and I head back down the bank.
The man is coughing up water when I reach the bottom. "An ambulance is on its way," I tell Clark and kneel down next to him. "Is he going to be okay?"
The man's breathing is loud and his eyes are still closed.
"I think so," says Clark. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," I say. Isn't it obvious, I wasn't just ploughed into the river. "You…you don't have a scratch."
The man opens his eyes and looks at Clark, "I could have sworn I hit you."
"Well, if you did, then I'd be..." Clark looks up at the ruined bridge. "Dead." His face goes white.
"Kid, are you okay?" the man asks.
Clark stutters out a "Oh yeah, I'm fine."
But I can't help but feel like maybe Clark went a little too far with the superhero thing this time. Clark must agree because he falls to the ground.
I lean over Clark, he's breathing. He must have just passed out. First time for everything, I guess. I walk on my knees to the man, he's still awake so I take that as a good sign.
"I called an ambulance," I say because I don't know what else to do. I don't know any first aid.
"Good," he says. "Are you okay?" he asks.
"Oh don't worry about me," I say, "I was just a witness to the crash."
"I could have sworn I hit him."
"Oh," I say.
"Did I?" he asks.
"Oh no," I say. Trying to sound convincing. I don't know if I do. "Clark jumped in after you. He's got a…superhero complex."
"You know him?"
"He's my brother."
The ambulance arrives a few minutes later, fast by Smallville standards. The paramedics see to the man, who I realise I never asked his name, and Clark wakes up soon after. It's not that cold, but the paramedics give them both blankets and insist the man go to the ambulance with them to check him over. One paramedic talks to Clark and they end up calling Dad who arrives even fast than the ambulance did. He comes running up to me and hugs me tight even though I'm not the one wrapped in a blanket being fussed over by paramedics.
"Are you okay?" he asks me.
"I'm fine," I say, pushing Dad off me, "But I do need to breathe."
"Where's your brother?"
We walk over to Clark and Dad puts on his cranky pants when he sees him all wrapped up in the special blanket.
"Who was the maniac driving that car?"
"That would me be me," the man comes up from behind us. He's all bandaged up and he holds out his hand to Dad, "Lex Luthor."
Holy crap.
Dad slowly moves his hand and shakes Lex's. "Jonathan Kent. This is my son, Clark."
Apparently I'm dirt at this stage.
"Thanks for saving my life," says Lex with a smile, "that was very brave."
"I didn't really think about it, just dove in. I'm sure you would have done the same thing," says Clark.
Lex just kind of stares at Clark and I wonder if he's bald by choice or one of those people who can't grow hair. I notice he has eyebrows and decide that it's probably the former. He must see me staring because he looks at me as he says, "You've got quite an extraordinary son, Mr. Kent." I drop my gaze, and he finally looks back at Dad. "If there's any way I can repay you?"
Dad wraps his arm around Clark and says, "Drive slower."
Dad walks Clark back up the bank to the truck and I pick up Clark and my bags and chase after them.
"I heard your brother saved Lex Luthor!"
I look up from my lunch at Hannah as she sits down with her lunch tray. "Yeah, I guess," I say.
"And you didn't want to tell me this morning?"
I shrug. "It was kind of Clark's thing, not mine."
Hannah grins. "I heard you called 911."
"How does this stuff even get around?"
Hannah shrugs and eats a tater tot. "Small town I guess. Josie told me though."
"Where is she?" I ask, looking around. Hannah and Josie are my closest friends, and we've eaten lunch together every day so far this year.
"Apparently here music lesson got moved to her lunch period."
"Well, that sucks."
"Ain't that the truth, and on tater tot Tuesday!" she eats another three in one go. "So, this Lex thing," she says with a full mouth.
"What about him?"
"Did you meet him?"
"I mean, he was semi-conscious on the ground if you count that as meeting."
Hannah smiled. "I do."
I sigh. "Please tell me you still don't have that crush on him?"
"It was love at first page on the Inquisitor two years ago."
"He was half drunk in that photo!"
"What can I say," Hannah shrugs. "I love me a man half asleep."
"And half inebriated…"
"Just promise me if you meet him again you give me all the details."
"Hannah, I don't think a billionaire is about to hang out with a couple of farm kids."
After school I'm shocked to see Clark waiting out front.
"What are you doing here?"
"We need to walk home."
"I was going to take the bus," I say, nodding towards the waiting school bus.
Clark adjusts his bag on his shoulder. "Well, we're going home together."
I sigh and walk down the last three steps to him and I'm back to being over two feet shorter than him. "Is this because of the accident?"
"Mom and Dad say the roads are dangerous."
"I'll be on a bus…"
"And this way you'll be with me."
"What? Man of steel?"
Clarks shrugs. "Or intense speed. Don't ask me to figure out their reasoning. Just, come on."
I sigh again and fall into step beside him. He doesn't trudge of ahead this time which I guess is nice. But I see others staring. According to Josie, my brother is "the most attractive big brother in Smallville" which makes for some awkward encounters when Clark is at my school. At least today it's just stares and I try and figure out why anyone would look at my brother like he was anything other than annoying.
Coming home up the drive there's a brand new pick-up truck sitting there, with the biggest bow on it I've ever seen.
"I didn't even know bows came in that size?"
Mom is fixing the tractor and Clark asks her whose truck.
"Yours," she says.
"Now that's just not fair," I say.
Clark shoves me and looks at Mom.
"It's a gift from Lex Luthor," she says and hands Clark a card.
He reads it out loud, ""Dear Clark, drive safely. Always in your debt, the maniac in the Porsche."" He's got the biggest grin on his face like he's six and just got given his first bike. "I don't believe it, where are the keys?"
"Your father has them."
I shove Clark back, "Justice."
Dad is using the woodchipper near the barn and Clark walks over to him, I follow. Desperate to see this attempt fail miserably. Dad doesn't even turn off the woodchipper or look up before he says, "You're not keeping it, Clark."
"Ha!" this was quicker than I thought. I'm actually a little disappointed. A little grovelling would have been nice to see.
"Why not?" asks Clark.
Oh yeah, here we go.
"Kents don't accept charity." Dad shoves another branch into the chipper.
"It's not charity, I saved the guys life."
Ooh the grovelling is starting. Beautiful.
"So you think you deserve a prize?"
"That's not what I meant."
Clark sighs and I think it's over but no, here he tries again. "Okay, how about you drive the new truck and I drive the old one? Everybody wins."
I wish I had snacks.
"The Luthors are trouble. You don't want them in your life. You're giving the truck back, Clark, end of story."
"Come on Dad, it's not like they can't afford it."
Dad spins to face Clark. Popcorn would have been good. "Y ou want to know why that is? Because the Luthors cheat and swindle. Remember Mr. Bell? We used to go fishing on his land. And Mr. Guy? He used to give us pumpkins every Halloween. Luthor promised to cut them in on a deal, sent them flashy gifts, but after they sold him their farms,, he went back on his word. He had them evicted. That's the kind of people the Luthors are."
Dad has got this one in the bag. Clark turns away, but then Dad sighs and calls after him. What?
"Clark! I know you're upset. It's normal."
Clark stops walking and turns back. "Normal?"
Oh dear.
Clark is shaking his head. "How about this? Is this normal?"
Without warning, Clark steps to the chipper and plunges his arm into it. I scream as Clarks shirt is ripped to shreds and plume around us. Dad yanks Clarks arm free from the grinding and we stare at Clark's arm. It's fine. But his shirt and jacket are ruined.
"I didn't dive in after Lex's car, it hit me at sixty miles an hour. I should be dead. I would give anything to be normal. But I'm not."
Clark leaves. I'm frozen to the spot.
I'm sitting on the front steps when Mom and Dad comes up from the field.
"Hey you," says Dad.
I say nothing.
They sit either side of me.
"We need to tell you something about Clark," says Mom.
I can feel them looking at each other when I still say nothing.
"He's um…" Mom stammers.
"He's not just adopted," says Dad.
Obviously.
"He…uh, well, he came down with the meteor shower."
Now that has my attention. "What do you mean, down?"
Mom rubs her hands on her things. "In a ship."
"Since we're not near coast I'm going to need you to elaborate."
"We think there's a reason Clark can do…what Clark can do," says Dad. "We think he's…well, an alien."
I don't laugh.
"There's a ship in the storm cellar," says Mom. "Do you want to se-"
"No."
"Do you want to talk about this?" Dad offers.
"No."
We sit in silence for a while before I ask, "Where's Clark."
"The loft," says Mom.
Clark is staring out at the sky, watching the sunset.
"Hey," I say, walking up the steps.
Clark turns to me as I flop down on the couch.
"Mom and Dad told me about your…uh, ship."
Clark laughs nervously. "Yeah?"
I swallow and say, "I always knew you were a freak." I find the words easy and I grin at him.
Clark sits down next to me. "You know you can't tell anyone, right?"
"I figured. Besides, who'd believe me anyway?"
"Fair point."
"I think now I know for sure that I don't want to find my biological parents."
"I don't think it's likely we're both aliens. Anyway, just because you don't find out the truth, doesn't make it any less true."
"Well then just call me Schrodinger's Child."
Clark frowns.
"Read more."
"Well, if I had to have guessed which of was from outer space yesterday, I would have 1000% have said you."
"Must suck being wrong all the time."