Whoops, almost done--- last part needs more editing, so it'll go up tomorrow. Thanks again for the comments, guys, it's incredibly motivating.
Runaway Trains at 3 A.M.
copyright 2002
"You hitchhiked from Smallville to Colorado Springs?" Dawn frowned up at the
stars, and tilted her head back, never looking away from the sky. "That
wasn't very smart. *Anything* could have happened to you."
"I didn't take any money with me when I left home. I earned a little later,
doing odd jobs, but how else was I supposed to get out of town?" Clark
shrugged, and turned back to the inky black above them. "It's not like
anyone could hurt me or anything. Most of the people I met on the road were
real nice." He adjusted his legs so they draped over the seat in front of
him, and fidgeted back into his seat, wishing again that public seating was
made for those at least six feet tall. The top bleachers of Coors Field
offered an unobstructed view of the purplish foothills, the glittering
downtown Denver skyscape, and the stars, but they weren't built for comfort.
"*Most* of them were nice?"
"Okay, there was this one guy. But I handled it."
He'd jumped out of the creep's car in the middle of Colorado Springs, torn
between punching the guy through the windshield and running. Running had seemed
the smarter option at the time, but now he wondered if he should have turned
the guy over to the police. The creep who'd been coming on to Dawn in the bus
station had reminded him of the one who'd picked him up a day earlier, and half
of his reaction to that situation had been because of remembered embarrassment
and confusion from before. "Not that you're wrong about hitchhiking, but it's
not like I'm a normal kid. One of the few up sides to being a freak--- I don't
have to be afraid of normal things." His voice dropped. "Just abnormal ones."
Clark could see Dawn turn her head towards him out of the corner of his eye,
but he kept his gaze fixed on the constellations. After a second she turned
back to the sky and pointed at a bright star on the eastern horizon. "What's
that one?"
"Venus. It's always just south of the moon, this time of year, when it's
this close to sunrise."
"And that?"
"Jupiter. They had a conjunction a few months ago, they're still near each
other." He took her hand, moving it a few degrees up and took the left.
"And that's Mars, that fuzzy one there. If we had a telescope, you could see
the ice caps." A streak of light went shooting past Dawn's fingertip, and
Clark caught his breath. "Did you see that?"
"Shooting star," Dawn whispered.
"Meteor," Clark corrected softly, letting go of her hand. "Probably burned
up in atmosphere. Most of them do."
"That's not very romantic."
"There's nothing romantic about them. They're just rocks from outer space."
He noticed her shiver, and turned to face her. "Are you cold?"
"Duh, Clark. My breath's doing the steamy thing, of course I'm cold. Not
that I want to go back inside yet," Dawn added hastily.
"Here." He slipped out of his jacket and tucked it around her, even while
she shook her head in protest.
"I don't need---"
"Yes you do. I'm the one that doesn't need it." He pulled the fleece up to
cover her neck. "I never do, I'm always warm enough."
"Thanks." She smiled at him gratefully, and he felt himself start to blush.
When she wasn't bouncing around like a hyperactive version of Chloe (who
always acted like she'd had five mocha lattes per hour, any hour of the
day), Dawn was... really good company. Maybe because she just accepted
everything about him as if it were normal; it made him want to push the
boundaries, find out how much she could hear without freaking out. Which
maybe wasn't the best idea in the world.
He shrugged and leaned back in his seat again, avoiding her eyes. "You're
welcome."
They watched the sky for another couple minutes in silence, then Dawn
huddled down into the jackets and turned to him again. "So, you never said
where you were headed. When your bus leaves."
"I didn't?"
"Uh-unh."
"I bought a ticket for California. Los Angeles, it's the last stop. "
"The end of the line," Dawn giggled, and he couldn't help but grin.
"We're switching places, aren't we?"
"Almost. Except there's no way I'm stopping at Smallville--- no offense to
your hometown."
"None taken--- not after what I've told you about it."
"No kidding." She curled a leg underneath her and rearranged his jacket
around her shoulders. "Where in California were you going after L.A.?"
"I don't know, exactly." Clark tilted his head back again, trying to
remember what his plan had been when he'd bought the ticket. "I just... When
I left Smallville, I just wanted to get *away*. I thought the Pacific Ocean
was about as far away as I could get."
Dawn snorted. "So if you could walk on water, you'd be going to Japan?"
He grinned and shook his head. "No... I imagined I'd turn right when I hit
the water. Maybe head for the Arctic Circle."
"The Arctic Circle," Dawn repeated in a flat, considering tone that was one
step away from calling him crazy. "Yeah, that's a great vacation spot this
time of year. Visit Santa and the elves. Get a job taking care of the
reindeer."
"Why not? I have experience with animals, I could get them hitched up to the
sleigh...."
"I don't think that would work. I heard the elves have a union. They'd throw
you back out in a snowdrift. Tell you to come back when you can show
references from the Easter Bunny, or maybe the Tooth Fairy."
Clark's snort of derision turned into a chortle, and for a few seconds they
had to stifle their laughter, wary of attracting the attention of the
security guards again. After they'd calmed down a bit, he slouched down with
a sigh. "Yeah, I guess that's out of the question. About as likely as the
rest of my life." Which would mean he'd get there and instead of a polar
bear or a nice iceberg, there *would* be a workshop with little men making
toys. Maybe he'd stop at Alaska instead of pushing his luck.
Dawn nudged him with her shoulder, and raised her eyebrows when he turned
his head toward her. "What if you went in some other direction?" She
fidgeted inside her jacket cocoon and dropped her eyes. "I mean... what if
you went with me to New York?" He blinked, sitting up straighter as Dawn's
voice became more rushed. "Look, I don't want to go home. And you don't want
to go home. And I've had more fun with you than I have in the last two days,
and... if you came along, I wouldn't have to worry about creeps bothering
me. Not that I can't take care of myself. I don't *need* you. But ..." She bit
her lips, her eyes pleading. "It would be so much cooler, Clark. Like a real
adventure. We could go to Atlantic City, and you could still see the ocean, just
a different one, and hit the arcades there, and the boardwalk...."
He opened his mouth, closed it, and frowned. "I.... What about my ticket?"
"You could exchange it when the ticket counter opens. And I could pay the
penalty, I have lots of money with me, it wouldn't cost you anything extra,
honest." Dawn gave a little bounce, her smile widening. "C'mon, Clark. Say
you will. You *know* you want to."
He studied her for a second, then turned back to the sky, stretching out
across the seat and thinking hard. "I don't know...."
"I swear I won't get you in trouble again. I'll be good, I won't come up
with anything crazy for the rest of the trip." At his sideways look, she
rolled her eyes. "Okay, not *too* crazy."
Clark took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, staring at the horizon
for a long second. "It's not that I don't want to---"
"Never mind." Dawn's voice sharpened; he glanced at her and saw that she was
examining a scuff mark on her jeans, her hair veiling her face. "It was a
stupid idea. Forget it. Go to California, see the ocean, go to Los Angeles, get
eaten by monsters, whatever. Do what you want."
"Dawn, I'd love to travel with you." Okay, that sounded a little stronger
than he'd meant it, but Dawn was looking up at him again and her face was
surprised, not hurt. "But, I think if I turn around and go east... I'll
end up back in Smallville. Even if I don't mean to."
"Oh."
He grabbed her hand suddenly, struck by inspiration. "Why don't you come
with me, instead? Come to Los Angeles, show me Hollywood and Disneyland.
It's not the same as the East Coast, but it's not Sunnydale. We could have a
lot of fun there."
Dawn grimaced. "I wish. But it would never work."
"Why? Why wouldn't it work?"
"'Cause it's too close to Sunnydale, for one. And because my sister's
ex-boyfriend runs a detective agency in L.A., for another." She slumped into
her seat, her voice bleak. "They'd find me in a day, tops. And that'd be the
end of my vacation. Buffy would drag me back to the Hellmouth by my hair."
"Oh." He slowly slid back down into his seat and tucked his chin into his
collar. "Rats."
"And damn." Dawn leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Maybe south?
To Mexico?"
"I don't speak Spanish. Although I could try to pick it up." He put his arm
around her, determinedly not thinking about what he was doing. "But I don't
think they'd ever let us across the border, probably."
"Me neither. And I could get us tacos and beer at the restaurants, maybe, but
that would be it. So that's out."
"Yeah." He tucked his head on top of hers, closing his eyes. "There's always
the Arctic Circle."
"Ask the elves to take pity on us?"
"Or the eskimos."
"I think they're all Inuits these days."
"Whoever. We could tell them that we don't fit in anywhere else, and that we
were hoping they'd give us an igloo."
"Sounds nice," she whispered. His shoulder was getting wet. Clark kept his
gaze on the sky, knowing she'd hate it if he saw her cry.
"Yeah. It does."
It was so stupid to be disappointed and homesick now, three days after she'd
escaped Sunnydale. She shouldn't feel like this, damnit. Spike would disown
her--- not that it mattered. But she was tougher than this. She shouldn't be
so upset because Clark was going in one direction and she was going in
another.
Except that it reminded her of everyone else she was missing, even if they
didn't know that she was gone, and couldn't be missing her yet. Anya had to
have noticed the money missing from the Magic Box by now, and if she'd
figure out who took it, she was probably calling down hexes on Dawn right
this second. Xander would have a total cow, completely sure she couldn't
take care of herself for one minute on her own. Willow would want to do a
tracing spell, which was *such* a bad idea. Buffy....
Dawn swallowed hard and sat up, dashing the tears away from her eyes with a
quick brush of her hand, hoping Clark wouldn't call her on it. He didn't,
proving again that doof or not, he was essentially a really cool person. She
sniffed and settled back in her seat, turning back to look at the sky.
"Maybe there've got an extra seat or two on the Space Shuttle. If we can't
go underground, we should head up. Get off the planet. There's got to be
something out there besides the truth and little grey aliens."
She turned her head to look at Clark, and was surprised at the pensive
expression on his face. "What?"
"I..." The hesitant look in his eyes was immediately replaced by a stubborn
blankness. "Nothing."
"No, something." She snaked a hand out of the coats to poke him in the side.
"What? What were you thinking a second ago?"
"Can I tell you something?" he asked abruptly, his voice really intense and
quiet. Almost a whisper, but not quite. The kind of voice you used for
important stuff, confessions and bad dreams and junk no one would believe.
"Something you can't tell anyone else?"
She frowned, then rolled her eyes. "Um, no. Because I suck at keeping
secrets, and you've already weirded me out *so* much." She sighed at the wounded
way he jerked his head down. "Clark... of course you can tell me. That was
sarcasm, okay? In case you weren't sure, I'm fine with all this. It's been kind
of a relief, to have someone my age to talk about this crap with tonight, you
know." She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "All of Buffy's
friends are so much older than me... they always think I'm a little kid, that I
can't handle freakiness. But it's--- it's *normal* for me."
He finally looked up at her, still looking a little scared, and Dawn grinned.
"I'll bet you another hot dog that whatever you tell me, I can top it. Really.
Go for it. I *dare* you to try and shock me."
Clark narrowed his eyes, then the challenge faded away and he just looked
nervous again. "I'm an.... mmhmhm," he mumbled to his shoes, avoiding looking
at her.
"You're a what?"
"I'm... I'm from...." He set his jaw and looked her full in the face.
"I live in Kansas. But I'm from outer space."
Dawn blinked and tilted her head. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." Clark looked like he was holding his breath, and Dawn wondered if
he'd ever told *anyone* about this before.
"How'd you get here?"
"Spaceship. A little one. My dad has it in our storm cellar." Clark was
still watching her, but he seemed to be relaxing a little. "There was a
meteor shower, about twelve years ago, Smallville's kind of famous for
it---"
"Wait, I heard about that. It blew up parts of the town, and a couple people
got killed---" She shut her mouth with a snap at the look on Clark's face;
he ducked his head down and pretended to be looking at a string
unraveling from the edge of his sweater.
"Yeah. That one. I kind of flew under the radar. Nobody picked up on it.
My parents found me just after." He rubbed his thumb along his leg, not
looking at her. "That's why I'm different. I think. I'm not totally sure. I
don't... I don't know anything about my family. My planet. Whatever."
He looked up, staring her full in the face, his entire body tense, waiting for
her reaction. "Do you believe me?"
Dawn stared back at him, momentarily speechless. Did she? Then again... why
not? Was it any stranger than anything else she knew for a fact was true?
Demons and vampires and Slayers and gods and Hellmouths and why should
being an alien make Clark any crazier than she was?
"Yeah. Yeah, Clark. I believe you." She smiled slightly and shrugged.
"That's pretty cool. Different, too. You're the first alien I've ever met.
Neat."
"Really?" Clark looked so relieved that her grin widened in response.
"Yeah. But you still owe me a hot dog. Because my weirdness tops yours,
easy."
He blinked, then looked outraged as he straightened in his seat, green eyes
disbelieving. "No way."
"*So* way. Heh. You're an alien. Woo." She twirled a finger in the air,
smiling triumphantly. "*I'm* not even real."
Clark folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Uh-hunh. You just don't
want to buy me a hot dog."
"I'm not, I swear! Well, I'm sort of real. I'm real *now*. Kind of."
"You're crazy. You're really, truly, deeply crazy. And I have to say I
admire that, but---"
"I am *not* crazy. I'm a Key. I used to be this energy-force thing, until
some monks turned me into a girl and sent me to Buffy, so she'd protect me.
It kind of sucks, because I have all these memories of being five and ten
and thirteen, and none of it really happened."
"You have to be making this up," Clark protested, unfolding his arms
and turning to face her in his seat, his voice incredibly patient.
"That's not even possible. I mean, theoretically, it's just barely
possible, but the high-level physics involved in turning energy into
living matter is beyond current science right now, and even then, you
couldn't make it *stay* alive---"
"Like space ships between worlds and guys who can run a hundred miles an
hour are impossible?" Dawn flipped her hair over her shoulder and folded her
arms. "Why is your life more real than mine, hunh? I believe you're an alien.
Why can't you believe I'm not real?"
Clark stared at her for a long minute, his mouth hanging slightly open. Then
he closed it and swallowed, his face going through a million expressions in
a minute and ending up on amazement. "You really do believe me."
"Sure."
He studied her face, then sighed, his mouth quirking a little. "Thanks."
Then his expression got deeply thoughtful. "You're really... You aren't....
You didn't used to be--- human?" At her nod, he leaned his head on his hand,
watching her carefully. "Do you remember it? What it was like?"
"No. Not really." She looked away. "Sometimes, I have these dreams... about
this emerald light, and stars...." She shrugged, then turned her eyes back
to the sky. "I don't know if they're real or not, though. Or just what I
imagine it was like."
"Wow." He cocked his head at her for a second, squinting his eyes hard, then
suddenly slid back into his seat. "Whoa. I can't tell the difference when I
look at you, except...."
"What?" Dawn tensed and turned to him, afraid of what he was going to say.
"I... can see stuff sometimes, like I said. Bones inside people, muscles and
stuff..." He shook his head. "You've got all that, you look human, but
there's this --- light." Dawn froze, hardly daring to breathe. "It's kind of
pretty, really. I don't know what it is, but it's all through you. With most
people I can just see lights in their brains, chemicals and stuff I guess---
but with you, it's all over."
"Really? You can see it?"
"Yeah." Clark's smile was shy and not at all freaked out. Which was good,
because Dawn was doing enough freaking for both of them. "It's real. You're
different, too."
Which wasn't bad, but it wasn't good, and what use was it? It didn't make
her tougher or stronger or braver or anything. It didn't give her magic. It
didn't keep her safe. "Yeah. Different."
"Hey." Clark reached out and took her hand this time, and she let him. "I'm
sorry, I shouldn't have said---"
"No. It's okay." She shrugged, leaning back, body stiff with cold and anger.
"It's not your fault. I just... If I'm going to be different, can't it be in
a superhero way?" She closed her eyes. "I'm sick of only being different
enough that people want to hurt me, or grab me, or use me against Buffy. I
want to be the one to save the day sometimes. Or even just be the one who
doesn't get hurt."
She held up her right arm, then let it drop onto her armrest. "I got my arm
broken five weeks ago --- it healed really fast, but I'd rather it never got
broken at all--- and I couldn't stop the guy who did it, because I'm useless!
I'm this ultra-special Key, I'm really valuable, but it just means I'm a
*thing*. A prize. A hostage. I want to go somewhere where *no one* knows me, or
knows about the Key thing, or Buffy's deal, or monsters or saving the world...."
She opened her eyes and glared through her tears, then violently brushed them
away with the heel of her hand. "But outside of Sunnydale, I'm just a fifteen-
year-old who gets picked on by scumbags in bus stations. I *hate* my life."
Clark was looking at her with total sympathy, and that kept her from crying
any harder. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah. I wish I had your life."
"No, you don't," he said definitely. "At least you know who you are. You've
got people who know about you. I don't know anything and I can't tell anyone
about it. None of my friends know, just my parents...." He sighed and turned
back to look at the stars. "And they'd freak if they knew I'd told you."
"At least they still love you. At least you have two parents," she
whispered. "My mom..." She shook her head, and Clark tightened his hand on
hers again, almost enough to hurt. "I wish she were here."
"Your sister loves you, though. Doesn't she?"
She couldn't speak for a second, then she nodded. "More than anything." It was
the one thing she didn't doubt. Buffy might be in the middle of losing her mind,
she might be screwing up --- again --- but she loved Dawn.
Buffy would *so* lose it when she realized Dawn had run away.
The second after she thought that, everything she'd been avoiding thinking
about for two days crashed into her. How it had felt when Buffy ran away two
years ago. What it had been like when Buffy had been dead; what she'd said
to Dawn, at the top of Glory's tower. How glad she'd been to have her back.
How Buffy was going to blame herself for this, too, even though it really
hadn't been about her at all. Well, a little bit. But mostly it was about
Dawn, and feeling alone and helpless and hating it, and just once wanting to
be the one that left first. And how incredibly mean that was.
"I'm a terrible sister."
"I'm a terrible son." Clark threaded his fingers through hers. "Join the
club."
"You're so not. At least your parents know you can take care of yourself.
They know you're not dead in a ditch."
"You didn't even want Buffy to know you were gone, and I bet you didn't want
her to worry." Which was true, she realized. Well, partly true, at least.
Maybe she wasn't a completely terrible person. Clark turned and looked at
her in the starlight, and for just a second, she wanted to lean against him
and cry. "If you call her right now, she won't have time to get upset before
you tell her you're on your way back."
Dawn considered this. "She's so going to kill me."
"Are superheroes allowed to do that?"
"No. But I'll bet she makes an exception this time. I'm always the
exception." She yawned and stopped fighting the impulse to lean against him,
and put her head down on his arm. "She might not still be mad at me, by the
time I get home. At least not mad enough to kill me."
"Probably ground you, though."
"Oh, yeah." She closed her eyes. "Still... maybe I'll get time off for good
behavior, since I turned myself in. That always counts on TV."
"Uh-hunh. We can dream, anyway." He sighed. "I think I passed up my last
chance to make a deal yesterday. But now, thinking about it, about where I
do want to be...." Clark was really quiet for a second, and his voice was
hoarse. "I can't stop thinking about my room and the farm and my mom and
dad. It's the only home I've ever had. I don't... I don't *want* anything
else."
"I don't know what I want. Not yet. But I don't think I'm going to find it
out here." Dawn opened her eyes again, and stared up at the stars. "We should
go. In a minute. But first... which one are you from?"
"I don't know." Clark sounded incredibly wistful, and Dawn turned her head
to look at him and smiled.
"Pick one. Any one."
"But it wouldn't be the real one."
"So? Who's going to say it isn't yours? I want to be able to point to your
star, and say I know a guy who used to live around there."
He grinned suddenly and she smiled back at him, and they had stifle their
giggles again, before Clark picked out a star on the horizon, just over the
mountains. Maybe if she followed that star home, she'd end up in Sunnydale.
It'd worked for the Wise Men, why couldn't it work for her?
**
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{
kikimariposa@prodigy.net
Runaway Trains at 3 A.M.
copyright 2002
"You hitchhiked from Smallville to Colorado Springs?" Dawn frowned up at the
stars, and tilted her head back, never looking away from the sky. "That
wasn't very smart. *Anything* could have happened to you."
"I didn't take any money with me when I left home. I earned a little later,
doing odd jobs, but how else was I supposed to get out of town?" Clark
shrugged, and turned back to the inky black above them. "It's not like
anyone could hurt me or anything. Most of the people I met on the road were
real nice." He adjusted his legs so they draped over the seat in front of
him, and fidgeted back into his seat, wishing again that public seating was
made for those at least six feet tall. The top bleachers of Coors Field
offered an unobstructed view of the purplish foothills, the glittering
downtown Denver skyscape, and the stars, but they weren't built for comfort.
"*Most* of them were nice?"
"Okay, there was this one guy. But I handled it."
He'd jumped out of the creep's car in the middle of Colorado Springs, torn
between punching the guy through the windshield and running. Running had seemed
the smarter option at the time, but now he wondered if he should have turned
the guy over to the police. The creep who'd been coming on to Dawn in the bus
station had reminded him of the one who'd picked him up a day earlier, and half
of his reaction to that situation had been because of remembered embarrassment
and confusion from before. "Not that you're wrong about hitchhiking, but it's
not like I'm a normal kid. One of the few up sides to being a freak--- I don't
have to be afraid of normal things." His voice dropped. "Just abnormal ones."
Clark could see Dawn turn her head towards him out of the corner of his eye,
but he kept his gaze fixed on the constellations. After a second she turned
back to the sky and pointed at a bright star on the eastern horizon. "What's
that one?"
"Venus. It's always just south of the moon, this time of year, when it's
this close to sunrise."
"And that?"
"Jupiter. They had a conjunction a few months ago, they're still near each
other." He took her hand, moving it a few degrees up and took the left.
"And that's Mars, that fuzzy one there. If we had a telescope, you could see
the ice caps." A streak of light went shooting past Dawn's fingertip, and
Clark caught his breath. "Did you see that?"
"Shooting star," Dawn whispered.
"Meteor," Clark corrected softly, letting go of her hand. "Probably burned
up in atmosphere. Most of them do."
"That's not very romantic."
"There's nothing romantic about them. They're just rocks from outer space."
He noticed her shiver, and turned to face her. "Are you cold?"
"Duh, Clark. My breath's doing the steamy thing, of course I'm cold. Not
that I want to go back inside yet," Dawn added hastily.
"Here." He slipped out of his jacket and tucked it around her, even while
she shook her head in protest.
"I don't need---"
"Yes you do. I'm the one that doesn't need it." He pulled the fleece up to
cover her neck. "I never do, I'm always warm enough."
"Thanks." She smiled at him gratefully, and he felt himself start to blush.
When she wasn't bouncing around like a hyperactive version of Chloe (who
always acted like she'd had five mocha lattes per hour, any hour of the
day), Dawn was... really good company. Maybe because she just accepted
everything about him as if it were normal; it made him want to push the
boundaries, find out how much she could hear without freaking out. Which
maybe wasn't the best idea in the world.
He shrugged and leaned back in his seat again, avoiding her eyes. "You're
welcome."
They watched the sky for another couple minutes in silence, then Dawn
huddled down into the jackets and turned to him again. "So, you never said
where you were headed. When your bus leaves."
"I didn't?"
"Uh-unh."
"I bought a ticket for California. Los Angeles, it's the last stop. "
"The end of the line," Dawn giggled, and he couldn't help but grin.
"We're switching places, aren't we?"
"Almost. Except there's no way I'm stopping at Smallville--- no offense to
your hometown."
"None taken--- not after what I've told you about it."
"No kidding." She curled a leg underneath her and rearranged his jacket
around her shoulders. "Where in California were you going after L.A.?"
"I don't know, exactly." Clark tilted his head back again, trying to
remember what his plan had been when he'd bought the ticket. "I just... When
I left Smallville, I just wanted to get *away*. I thought the Pacific Ocean
was about as far away as I could get."
Dawn snorted. "So if you could walk on water, you'd be going to Japan?"
He grinned and shook his head. "No... I imagined I'd turn right when I hit
the water. Maybe head for the Arctic Circle."
"The Arctic Circle," Dawn repeated in a flat, considering tone that was one
step away from calling him crazy. "Yeah, that's a great vacation spot this
time of year. Visit Santa and the elves. Get a job taking care of the
reindeer."
"Why not? I have experience with animals, I could get them hitched up to the
sleigh...."
"I don't think that would work. I heard the elves have a union. They'd throw
you back out in a snowdrift. Tell you to come back when you can show
references from the Easter Bunny, or maybe the Tooth Fairy."
Clark's snort of derision turned into a chortle, and for a few seconds they
had to stifle their laughter, wary of attracting the attention of the
security guards again. After they'd calmed down a bit, he slouched down with
a sigh. "Yeah, I guess that's out of the question. About as likely as the
rest of my life." Which would mean he'd get there and instead of a polar
bear or a nice iceberg, there *would* be a workshop with little men making
toys. Maybe he'd stop at Alaska instead of pushing his luck.
Dawn nudged him with her shoulder, and raised her eyebrows when he turned
his head toward her. "What if you went in some other direction?" She
fidgeted inside her jacket cocoon and dropped her eyes. "I mean... what if
you went with me to New York?" He blinked, sitting up straighter as Dawn's
voice became more rushed. "Look, I don't want to go home. And you don't want
to go home. And I've had more fun with you than I have in the last two days,
and... if you came along, I wouldn't have to worry about creeps bothering
me. Not that I can't take care of myself. I don't *need* you. But ..." She bit
her lips, her eyes pleading. "It would be so much cooler, Clark. Like a real
adventure. We could go to Atlantic City, and you could still see the ocean, just
a different one, and hit the arcades there, and the boardwalk...."
He opened his mouth, closed it, and frowned. "I.... What about my ticket?"
"You could exchange it when the ticket counter opens. And I could pay the
penalty, I have lots of money with me, it wouldn't cost you anything extra,
honest." Dawn gave a little bounce, her smile widening. "C'mon, Clark. Say
you will. You *know* you want to."
He studied her for a second, then turned back to the sky, stretching out
across the seat and thinking hard. "I don't know...."
"I swear I won't get you in trouble again. I'll be good, I won't come up
with anything crazy for the rest of the trip." At his sideways look, she
rolled her eyes. "Okay, not *too* crazy."
Clark took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, staring at the horizon
for a long second. "It's not that I don't want to---"
"Never mind." Dawn's voice sharpened; he glanced at her and saw that she was
examining a scuff mark on her jeans, her hair veiling her face. "It was a
stupid idea. Forget it. Go to California, see the ocean, go to Los Angeles, get
eaten by monsters, whatever. Do what you want."
"Dawn, I'd love to travel with you." Okay, that sounded a little stronger
than he'd meant it, but Dawn was looking up at him again and her face was
surprised, not hurt. "But, I think if I turn around and go east... I'll
end up back in Smallville. Even if I don't mean to."
"Oh."
He grabbed her hand suddenly, struck by inspiration. "Why don't you come
with me, instead? Come to Los Angeles, show me Hollywood and Disneyland.
It's not the same as the East Coast, but it's not Sunnydale. We could have a
lot of fun there."
Dawn grimaced. "I wish. But it would never work."
"Why? Why wouldn't it work?"
"'Cause it's too close to Sunnydale, for one. And because my sister's
ex-boyfriend runs a detective agency in L.A., for another." She slumped into
her seat, her voice bleak. "They'd find me in a day, tops. And that'd be the
end of my vacation. Buffy would drag me back to the Hellmouth by my hair."
"Oh." He slowly slid back down into his seat and tucked his chin into his
collar. "Rats."
"And damn." Dawn leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Maybe south?
To Mexico?"
"I don't speak Spanish. Although I could try to pick it up." He put his arm
around her, determinedly not thinking about what he was doing. "But I don't
think they'd ever let us across the border, probably."
"Me neither. And I could get us tacos and beer at the restaurants, maybe, but
that would be it. So that's out."
"Yeah." He tucked his head on top of hers, closing his eyes. "There's always
the Arctic Circle."
"Ask the elves to take pity on us?"
"Or the eskimos."
"I think they're all Inuits these days."
"Whoever. We could tell them that we don't fit in anywhere else, and that we
were hoping they'd give us an igloo."
"Sounds nice," she whispered. His shoulder was getting wet. Clark kept his
gaze on the sky, knowing she'd hate it if he saw her cry.
"Yeah. It does."
It was so stupid to be disappointed and homesick now, three days after she'd
escaped Sunnydale. She shouldn't feel like this, damnit. Spike would disown
her--- not that it mattered. But she was tougher than this. She shouldn't be
so upset because Clark was going in one direction and she was going in
another.
Except that it reminded her of everyone else she was missing, even if they
didn't know that she was gone, and couldn't be missing her yet. Anya had to
have noticed the money missing from the Magic Box by now, and if she'd
figure out who took it, she was probably calling down hexes on Dawn right
this second. Xander would have a total cow, completely sure she couldn't
take care of herself for one minute on her own. Willow would want to do a
tracing spell, which was *such* a bad idea. Buffy....
Dawn swallowed hard and sat up, dashing the tears away from her eyes with a
quick brush of her hand, hoping Clark wouldn't call her on it. He didn't,
proving again that doof or not, he was essentially a really cool person. She
sniffed and settled back in her seat, turning back to look at the sky.
"Maybe there've got an extra seat or two on the Space Shuttle. If we can't
go underground, we should head up. Get off the planet. There's got to be
something out there besides the truth and little grey aliens."
She turned her head to look at Clark, and was surprised at the pensive
expression on his face. "What?"
"I..." The hesitant look in his eyes was immediately replaced by a stubborn
blankness. "Nothing."
"No, something." She snaked a hand out of the coats to poke him in the side.
"What? What were you thinking a second ago?"
"Can I tell you something?" he asked abruptly, his voice really intense and
quiet. Almost a whisper, but not quite. The kind of voice you used for
important stuff, confessions and bad dreams and junk no one would believe.
"Something you can't tell anyone else?"
She frowned, then rolled her eyes. "Um, no. Because I suck at keeping
secrets, and you've already weirded me out *so* much." She sighed at the wounded
way he jerked his head down. "Clark... of course you can tell me. That was
sarcasm, okay? In case you weren't sure, I'm fine with all this. It's been kind
of a relief, to have someone my age to talk about this crap with tonight, you
know." She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "All of Buffy's
friends are so much older than me... they always think I'm a little kid, that I
can't handle freakiness. But it's--- it's *normal* for me."
He finally looked up at her, still looking a little scared, and Dawn grinned.
"I'll bet you another hot dog that whatever you tell me, I can top it. Really.
Go for it. I *dare* you to try and shock me."
Clark narrowed his eyes, then the challenge faded away and he just looked
nervous again. "I'm an.... mmhmhm," he mumbled to his shoes, avoiding looking
at her.
"You're a what?"
"I'm... I'm from...." He set his jaw and looked her full in the face.
"I live in Kansas. But I'm from outer space."
Dawn blinked and tilted her head. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." Clark looked like he was holding his breath, and Dawn wondered if
he'd ever told *anyone* about this before.
"How'd you get here?"
"Spaceship. A little one. My dad has it in our storm cellar." Clark was
still watching her, but he seemed to be relaxing a little. "There was a
meteor shower, about twelve years ago, Smallville's kind of famous for
it---"
"Wait, I heard about that. It blew up parts of the town, and a couple people
got killed---" She shut her mouth with a snap at the look on Clark's face;
he ducked his head down and pretended to be looking at a string
unraveling from the edge of his sweater.
"Yeah. That one. I kind of flew under the radar. Nobody picked up on it.
My parents found me just after." He rubbed his thumb along his leg, not
looking at her. "That's why I'm different. I think. I'm not totally sure. I
don't... I don't know anything about my family. My planet. Whatever."
He looked up, staring her full in the face, his entire body tense, waiting for
her reaction. "Do you believe me?"
Dawn stared back at him, momentarily speechless. Did she? Then again... why
not? Was it any stranger than anything else she knew for a fact was true?
Demons and vampires and Slayers and gods and Hellmouths and why should
being an alien make Clark any crazier than she was?
"Yeah. Yeah, Clark. I believe you." She smiled slightly and shrugged.
"That's pretty cool. Different, too. You're the first alien I've ever met.
Neat."
"Really?" Clark looked so relieved that her grin widened in response.
"Yeah. But you still owe me a hot dog. Because my weirdness tops yours,
easy."
He blinked, then looked outraged as he straightened in his seat, green eyes
disbelieving. "No way."
"*So* way. Heh. You're an alien. Woo." She twirled a finger in the air,
smiling triumphantly. "*I'm* not even real."
Clark folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Uh-hunh. You just don't
want to buy me a hot dog."
"I'm not, I swear! Well, I'm sort of real. I'm real *now*. Kind of."
"You're crazy. You're really, truly, deeply crazy. And I have to say I
admire that, but---"
"I am *not* crazy. I'm a Key. I used to be this energy-force thing, until
some monks turned me into a girl and sent me to Buffy, so she'd protect me.
It kind of sucks, because I have all these memories of being five and ten
and thirteen, and none of it really happened."
"You have to be making this up," Clark protested, unfolding his arms
and turning to face her in his seat, his voice incredibly patient.
"That's not even possible. I mean, theoretically, it's just barely
possible, but the high-level physics involved in turning energy into
living matter is beyond current science right now, and even then, you
couldn't make it *stay* alive---"
"Like space ships between worlds and guys who can run a hundred miles an
hour are impossible?" Dawn flipped her hair over her shoulder and folded her
arms. "Why is your life more real than mine, hunh? I believe you're an alien.
Why can't you believe I'm not real?"
Clark stared at her for a long minute, his mouth hanging slightly open. Then
he closed it and swallowed, his face going through a million expressions in
a minute and ending up on amazement. "You really do believe me."
"Sure."
He studied her face, then sighed, his mouth quirking a little. "Thanks."
Then his expression got deeply thoughtful. "You're really... You aren't....
You didn't used to be--- human?" At her nod, he leaned his head on his hand,
watching her carefully. "Do you remember it? What it was like?"
"No. Not really." She looked away. "Sometimes, I have these dreams... about
this emerald light, and stars...." She shrugged, then turned her eyes back
to the sky. "I don't know if they're real or not, though. Or just what I
imagine it was like."
"Wow." He cocked his head at her for a second, squinting his eyes hard, then
suddenly slid back into his seat. "Whoa. I can't tell the difference when I
look at you, except...."
"What?" Dawn tensed and turned to him, afraid of what he was going to say.
"I... can see stuff sometimes, like I said. Bones inside people, muscles and
stuff..." He shook his head. "You've got all that, you look human, but
there's this --- light." Dawn froze, hardly daring to breathe. "It's kind of
pretty, really. I don't know what it is, but it's all through you. With most
people I can just see lights in their brains, chemicals and stuff I guess---
but with you, it's all over."
"Really? You can see it?"
"Yeah." Clark's smile was shy and not at all freaked out. Which was good,
because Dawn was doing enough freaking for both of them. "It's real. You're
different, too."
Which wasn't bad, but it wasn't good, and what use was it? It didn't make
her tougher or stronger or braver or anything. It didn't give her magic. It
didn't keep her safe. "Yeah. Different."
"Hey." Clark reached out and took her hand this time, and she let him. "I'm
sorry, I shouldn't have said---"
"No. It's okay." She shrugged, leaning back, body stiff with cold and anger.
"It's not your fault. I just... If I'm going to be different, can't it be in
a superhero way?" She closed her eyes. "I'm sick of only being different
enough that people want to hurt me, or grab me, or use me against Buffy. I
want to be the one to save the day sometimes. Or even just be the one who
doesn't get hurt."
She held up her right arm, then let it drop onto her armrest. "I got my arm
broken five weeks ago --- it healed really fast, but I'd rather it never got
broken at all--- and I couldn't stop the guy who did it, because I'm useless!
I'm this ultra-special Key, I'm really valuable, but it just means I'm a
*thing*. A prize. A hostage. I want to go somewhere where *no one* knows me, or
knows about the Key thing, or Buffy's deal, or monsters or saving the world...."
She opened her eyes and glared through her tears, then violently brushed them
away with the heel of her hand. "But outside of Sunnydale, I'm just a fifteen-
year-old who gets picked on by scumbags in bus stations. I *hate* my life."
Clark was looking at her with total sympathy, and that kept her from crying
any harder. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah. I wish I had your life."
"No, you don't," he said definitely. "At least you know who you are. You've
got people who know about you. I don't know anything and I can't tell anyone
about it. None of my friends know, just my parents...." He sighed and turned
back to look at the stars. "And they'd freak if they knew I'd told you."
"At least they still love you. At least you have two parents," she
whispered. "My mom..." She shook her head, and Clark tightened his hand on
hers again, almost enough to hurt. "I wish she were here."
"Your sister loves you, though. Doesn't she?"
She couldn't speak for a second, then she nodded. "More than anything." It was
the one thing she didn't doubt. Buffy might be in the middle of losing her mind,
she might be screwing up --- again --- but she loved Dawn.
Buffy would *so* lose it when she realized Dawn had run away.
The second after she thought that, everything she'd been avoiding thinking
about for two days crashed into her. How it had felt when Buffy ran away two
years ago. What it had been like when Buffy had been dead; what she'd said
to Dawn, at the top of Glory's tower. How glad she'd been to have her back.
How Buffy was going to blame herself for this, too, even though it really
hadn't been about her at all. Well, a little bit. But mostly it was about
Dawn, and feeling alone and helpless and hating it, and just once wanting to
be the one that left first. And how incredibly mean that was.
"I'm a terrible sister."
"I'm a terrible son." Clark threaded his fingers through hers. "Join the
club."
"You're so not. At least your parents know you can take care of yourself.
They know you're not dead in a ditch."
"You didn't even want Buffy to know you were gone, and I bet you didn't want
her to worry." Which was true, she realized. Well, partly true, at least.
Maybe she wasn't a completely terrible person. Clark turned and looked at
her in the starlight, and for just a second, she wanted to lean against him
and cry. "If you call her right now, she won't have time to get upset before
you tell her you're on your way back."
Dawn considered this. "She's so going to kill me."
"Are superheroes allowed to do that?"
"No. But I'll bet she makes an exception this time. I'm always the
exception." She yawned and stopped fighting the impulse to lean against him,
and put her head down on his arm. "She might not still be mad at me, by the
time I get home. At least not mad enough to kill me."
"Probably ground you, though."
"Oh, yeah." She closed her eyes. "Still... maybe I'll get time off for good
behavior, since I turned myself in. That always counts on TV."
"Uh-hunh. We can dream, anyway." He sighed. "I think I passed up my last
chance to make a deal yesterday. But now, thinking about it, about where I
do want to be...." Clark was really quiet for a second, and his voice was
hoarse. "I can't stop thinking about my room and the farm and my mom and
dad. It's the only home I've ever had. I don't... I don't *want* anything
else."
"I don't know what I want. Not yet. But I don't think I'm going to find it
out here." Dawn opened her eyes again, and stared up at the stars. "We should
go. In a minute. But first... which one are you from?"
"I don't know." Clark sounded incredibly wistful, and Dawn turned her head
to look at him and smiled.
"Pick one. Any one."
"But it wouldn't be the real one."
"So? Who's going to say it isn't yours? I want to be able to point to your
star, and say I know a guy who used to live around there."
He grinned suddenly and she smiled back at him, and they had stifle their
giggles again, before Clark picked out a star on the horizon, just over the
mountains. Maybe if she followed that star home, she'd end up in Sunnydale.
It'd worked for the Wise Men, why couldn't it work for her?
**
Chris Kiki Chaos }|{
kikimariposa@prodigy.net
