"No," Jonathan said firmly, his jaw set. "Absolutely not."
"There's no other way," Rok-Var replied.
"There's Clark," Jonathan retorted, frowning.
"I already told you he can't," Rok-Var shot back. "Kal-El is not the oldest surviving member of the El family. Kara is, and when she unlocked the hidden chamber in the caves last year, she tied herself to those crystals, so she's the only one who can safely handle them."
"You're not really suggesting a sixteen-year old is the only one who can stop this," Martha replied incredulously.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Zachary spoke up. Everyone looked over at him, knowing he was referring to the Fortress incident a few months ago.
"Look, I understand your apprehension about this," Rok-Var continued. "This was not how things were supposed to be. Kara was supposed to be much older when she retrieved the crystals, more prepared, but Zod's actions changed everything. I was hoping to have more time, but Kara's actions in the caves, unfortunately, accelerated things, and we have a very limited window now to get them."
"And now the fate of Earth rests in the hands of a teenage girl," Clark said softly. He glanced at his parents, who looked just as troubled as he felt, then his gaze shifted to his cousin, who had remained quiet for too long. "Linda?"
"This is my fault," Linda said sullenly.
"This is not your fault, Kara," Rok-Var replied. "This is Zod's fault; he's the one who set things in motion long before you were born."
"You just said what I did last year sped things up," Linda retorted. "If I had just left everything alone, then none of this would be happening." She suddenly clutched the sides of her head as more memories flooded her mind, and her heart and breathing increased as she felt like everything was closing in around her.
"Linda, what's wrong?" Clark asked, concerned, picking up on the changes in her heart and breathing.
"I….I can't," Linda replied tearfully before blurring out of the house through the kitchen door.
"Linda!" Martha called out as the whooshing sound faded in her daughter's wake. She turned to Clark. "Clark."
"She's in the barn loft," Clark replied, his heart breaking as he picked up the sounds of quiet sobs. He took a step toward the kitchen, but Jimmy stopped him.
"I got her," he said, shooting Rok-Var and Zachary a brief glare before heading out of the living room. He left the house through the kitchen door.
As the door swung shut, Jonathan turned to Rok-Var and Zachary, frowning. "This isn't right," he said, "and you both know it."
"It's not about right or wrong," Zachary replied, all annoyance and sarcasm gone from his voice. "We're doing what needs to be done to save this world."
"And you're putting all this pressure on a sixteen-year-old girl," Clark said. He looked right at Rok-Var. "You know, whenever Linda talked about you, I could tell how much she cared about you, and with everything she said you did for her, I thought you cared about her as well."
Rok-Var's expression hardened. "You don't think I care about Kara?" he asked, almost insulted. "Ever since she was born, I have cared about her as if she was my own daughter. I have done nothing but devoted my life to her protection and well-being."
"You let her think you were dead," Clark said, "then we find out you erased and changed her memories. That by itself has been hard on her, but then you show up out of the blue, and just dump all this on her and expect her to just accept it, no questions asked."
"From the moment I put Kara in stasis," Rok-Var replied, "I knew this was going to be difficult for her, but I already told you earlier I had no choice. Zod's actions forced me to save Kara the only way I could. Every day for almost thirty years, I could only look at her from the other side of that stasis tube as she remained ageless, all the while pretending to experiment on her, replacing her memories, repairing her ship in secret. I did that all in the name of keeping her alive, so don't presume for one second that I never cared about her, Kal-El." He stared at Clark with a hard expression before turning and marching out the front door. The Kents glanced at the magician as he remained in his spot, their expressions mixed..
"Look," Zachary said, his voice even and unthreatening, "I know the three of you have no reason to trust us, and I don't blame you. If our positions were reversed, I'd feel the same way about this whole thing, but we did what we thought was best, given the situation."
"You lied to Linda," Martha said bluntly. "You knew about all of this, and you lied to her—and you lied to us."
"It wasn't my place to say anything," Zachary replied. "My responsibilities as Linda's art teacher were simply to keep an eye on her while Rok-Var dealt with the crystal situation. I could help Linda if she absolutely needed it, but only if she really needed it—and that's what I did."
"And was the attitude part of those responsibilities?" Clark asked.
Zachary sighed. "Look, I've never been much of a team player, but working with Linda has changed that. She has a way of bringing out the best in someone, and she truly does have an amazing artistic talent," his mouth curled into a small smile, "when she's not drawing pictures of me being disemboweled." He glanced up and was grateful to see the Kents looking a little amused by his comment, but his smile didn't last long as he exhaled. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"We're not the ones you need to apologize to," Jonathan said.
Linda sat on the couch, her legs pulled up close to her, as she rested her forehead on her knees. Krypto and Streaky both lounged close by, watching their owner as she cried softly. She heard the soft creak, and she was momentarily startled, but she didn't bother raising her head.
"Hey."
Linda stiffened as she recognized the familiar voice. She looked over and saw Jimmy standing at the top of the stairs, looking concerned. "Hey," she said softly.
"Can I come over?" Jimmy asked. Linda nodded, and the young photographer crossed the loft, taking a seat on the trunk, facing her. He just sat there, watching her, not saying anything, waiting for her to speak when she was ready.
"I'm sorry," Linda said softly after a few moments.
"For what?" Jimmy asked.
"For this," Linda answered. "For not being able to deal with," she made a motion with her hand, "this."
"Linda, you've just had a freakin' bombshell dropped on you," Jimmy said. "The guy you thought was dead isn't, you got your real memories back, it turns out you're older than Clark, you saw your parents get murdered, you watched your planet blow up, you were in a tube for almost thirty years, and now you've gotta go around the world and find these crystals before they destroy Earth."
"I also remembered I can speak thirty different languages," Linda added. "Fluently."
Jimmy paused, staring at her. "Really?" he asked.
"Wǒ jiào kǎlā·zuǒ ěr-ài ěr," Linda replied. "Je m'appelle Kara Zor-El. Watashinonamaeha Kāra Zōerudesu. Nazywam się Kara Zor-El. Menya zovut Kara Zor-El. Jag heter Kara Zor-El."
"And that means what?" Jimmy asked slowly.
"I just said 'My name is Kara Zor-El' in Mandarin Chinese, French, Japanese, Polish, Russian, and Swedish," Linda said bluntly.
Jimmy just stared at her in stunned silence, his mouth slightly opened. "Okay," he said slowly after a few moments. "That's," he slowly pursed his lips, trying to think of something, but his mind was blank, "uh…okay. So, uh…why do you know—?"
"Why do I know so many different languages?" Linda interrupted. "Because I was trained to be prepared to blend in when Clark and I were sent to Earth: to know their languages, their history…I was even trained to protect us if I needed to. That's why I was able to fight Diana when I was under red kryptonite in January." Her face contorted in frustration as her eyes grew bright. "Why is it when whenever things start going right for me and I feel normal, something comes along to remind me I'm not?" She clenched her fist, trying not to slam it through the back of the couch. "It's not fair."
Jimmy felt his chest tighten, hearing the defeat in his girlfriend's voice, and he racked his brain, trying to come up with something to make her feel better. After a few moments, an idea came to mind, and he craned his head over at her desk. He saw Linda's laptop, and he smiled ever so slightly as he got up and crossed the loft. He opened the laptop and typed a few keys, and her music program opened. He quickly searched her playlists, finding the song he wanted, and pressed the play button. The loft filled with sounds of a mixture of soft drumbeats and synthesizers in a slow rhythm, causing Linda to open her eyes as he walked back over to the couch.
"What are you doing?" she asked, confused.
"Dance with me," the photographer replied.
"I'm not really in the mood to dance," Linda said glumly.
"Do you remember when we first danced to this song?" Jimmy asked. "For a few minutes, the entire world—our problems, everything—just disappeared." He offered his hand to her. "Please?"
Linda stared at his hand for a moment, hesitating briefly, before she held out her hand. Jimmy took it and helped her to her feet, leading her to the clear area behind the couch. Unlike the last time, where Jimmy had to guide her through the motions, Linda wordlessly put her arms around Jimmy's neck as he wrapped his around her waist. The two began moving with the music, slowly swaying in a small circle, and Lind kept her eyes down, trying to muster up some enthusiasm that she usually had in dancing with her boyfriend, but she couldn't. After a few moments, she exhaled and just rested her head against his shoulder, sighing as she closed her eyes.
Can you feel a silk embrace in the satin air?
If we dissolve without a trace, will the real world even care?
As the music continued, their feet lifted off the wooden floor, but neither one of them even seemed to care as Linda clung to Jimmy, a single tear slipping out and rolling down her cheek. He simply responded by tightening his embrace around her waist and kissing her forehead before resting his cheek against it, momentarily protecting her from the reality they knew they would eventually have to face.
Linda and Jimmy stayed in the loft for several more minutes before Linda felt collected enough to return back to the house. Hand in hand, the two teenagers left the barn and headed back toward the house. As they neared the picket fence, they stopped when they saw Rok-Var leaning on the railing of the front porch, staring off into the distance.
"Go on in," Linda said to Jimmy. "I'll be there in a moment."
"You sure?" Jimmy asked.
Linda nodded. "I'll be fine." Jimmy looked unconvinced, but the teenage girl gave him a reassuring smile. "Really." Jimmy sighed and kissed her briefly before making his way up the walk leading to the kitchen door, glancing at Rok-Var warily before heading into the house. Linda took a deep breath before making her way toward Rok-Var, stopping just at the top of the stairs, facing his back.
"You seem to be feeling better," Rok-Var said after a few moments of silence.
"That depends what you mean by 'better'," Linda said. "There's a lot of things to process."
Rok-Var had known the young girl long enough to recognize even the subtle inflections in her voice, and he could pick up the undertones of anger and betrayal, even as her voice sounded neutral. He slowly turned around to face her, and he could see her expression. It appeared neutral, like her voice, but he could see the mixture of emotions. He exhaled softly, his countenance softening. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
"I know," Linda said softly. "I remember how it was supposed to happen and what actually happened…except for the missing twenty-eight years I was in stasis."
"There isn't much to fill you in on," Rok-Var replied. "I spent that time pretending as if I was altering your genetic material to fit Zod's ideals."
"You did change it," Linda retorted. The two porch chairs against the house slowly lifted off the wood floor, floating at head height for a few seconds before lowering back to their original positions. "There's never been a telekinetic Kryptonian before me, has there?"
"No," Rok-Var replied, "but I could only project my mental abilities to manipulate Zod so long before he figured out I wasn't doing anything but trying to help you escape."
"So you were forced to actually manipulate my genes," Linda said. Rok-Var nodded. "Well, it could've been worse, right? I mean, I actually kinda enjoy having this ability; it's come in handy a time or two."
"Well, it's not permanent," Rok-Var replied. Linda tilted her head. "If Zor-El had been in charge, it would have been flawless." He gave a sad smile. "I'm not Zor-El, so my work isn't permanent."
"So, eventually, I'll lose this ability?" Linda asked. Rok-Var nodded. "Do you know when?"
"I would guess by the end of the summer," Rok-Var answered, "if not sooner."
Linda looked a little troubled, but nodded. "Okay."
"You're not that upset?"
Linda shrugged. "Maybe a little, but," she chuckled softly, "it's not like I don't have any other abilities, right?"
Rok-Var tilted his head, then he chuckled. "I've missed that."
"Missed what?" Linda asked.
"That optimism of yours," Rok-Var answered. "For as long as I can remember, you've always tried to look on the bright side of things. Even when something seemed hopeless, you would always reassure us that everything would be fine." He smiled sadly. "You were the one who reassured Lara you would always look after Kal-El."
Linda's expression turned sad. "That turned out well," she replied softly.
Rok-Var's countenance fell as he looked at her tearfully. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to keep you safe from all this."
Linda felt her heart tighten. She had always remembered him as a pillar of strength, never wavering. She had never seen him appear so vulnerable in front of her, and it broke her heart as she realized how much pain and guilt he must have endured during those twenty-eight years she was in stasis—and the anger and betrayal she had felt since learning the truth dissipated. Wordlessly, she walked over to him and put her around him, leaning against him like she remembered doing when she was younger. Rok-Var stiffened for a moment, startled, then he put his arms around her, closing his eyes as he rested his chin on the top of her head, feeling the weight of twenty-eight year's worth of guilt starting to melt away.
(End of Chapter 5)