Author's Note: Hmm.. Well, disclaimer's in the last chapter. I guess there's not much to say here. Enjoy!
Going Home, Part 2
She awoke with a start to the sound of the doorknob turning. She caught herself just in time to avoid the loud noise of her body hitting the bed. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and looked up to see Martha entering.
"Did you sleep well dear?" Becca nodded as she sat up.
"Thank you so much for letting me sleep here," she added with a smile, still relieved that the disaster she had been dreading had been averted.
Martha returned her smile. "You look much better this morning. How about we get you a bath and some breakfast?" Her eyes strayed to Becca's ankle. "How does your ankle feel?"
Becca gently pulled up her pant leg to reveal a swollen ankle, frowning. Martha made some worried noises and said, "Looks like that's due for some more ice once we get you cleaned up."
"Why are you going to all this work over me?" Becca asked her abruptly.
Martha stopped in the middle of her ministrations. "Why? How could we not?"
"You don't owe me anything," she responded with a frown.
"We're not doing this out of obligation. It's just… there's no way, in good conscience, we could let a-" Martha stopped for a moment, choosing her words. "A girl who was hurt just stay in the woods. Besides, you seem like a very nice girl."
A slightly bitter laugh escaped through Becca's lips, and she shook her head slightly. Martha dropped the subject and turned back to the former focus. "I have some fresh clothes and a towel in the bathroom for you. Now we just need to get you there and you can have a nice warm bath and come out for breakfast when you're ready."
Becca sighed at the thought of once again trying to move. But now that she was here, she could hardly turn down the chance to get clean and have some food. After that, then she could disappear and nurse her ankle back to health in the safety of isolation.
Martha held out her arm. "Come on, I'll help you." Reluctantly, Becca stood to her feet… or, more accurately, her foot. She tried to figure out how to do this without hurting herself again. Placing her arm around Martha's shoulders, she leaned forward as though about to step, then realized she was about to put her weight on her bad foot. Once again, she began to shake as she fought her natural instinct, bred for twelve years, and tried to do things the way she was expected to.
Martha looked at Becca in concern as she removed her arm from around her shoulders. "Maybe I should have one of the men carry you again." She nodded, and Martha turned and yelled, "Clark!"
They both waited a moment, but there was no response. Martha tried another tack. "Jonathan?"
"Yes?" came the answer, yelled from another part of the house.
"Where is Clark?"
A short silence, and then, "I don't know. I'll be right back." Becca heard the door open and close, and then Jonathan yelling, "Clark!"
From outside, Becca and Martha heard, "Wha-AHHHHH!"
Martha was out the door before Becca could even turn back. Outside, she could hear Jonathan shouting, "Clark?!" Soon he was joined by Martha.
After a moment, their voices quieted, but Becca could see no sign of them. Frustrated, she took a chance and slipped off the bed and out into the living room. She stopped on the couch, knowing that she couldn't justify having crawled any further than that, and waited.
Five minutes later, the three of them walked in. "I'm fine!" she heard Clark protest.
"This time," Jonathan pointed out pessimistically.
Martha was about to add her two cents when she looked up. "Becca!" This turned all three heads toward her. "How did you get out here?"
Becca looked at Clark. "What happened?" she asked, deliberately ignoring the question for the moment.
Clark looked sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing… I just…"
Jonathan helped out his embarrassed son. "He just had a little fall in the barn."
Clark shot a frustrated glance at his father, then nodded. "Yeah... I'm not the most coordinated person in the world."
Becca shrugged. "Neither am I."
"Speaking of which, how did you get out here?" Martha repeated. "You couldn't have walked on that ankle."
"I crawled," she lied, looking down so they couldn't see her face. Her urge to escape was growing, and she realized suddenly that it was getting harder to feel the couch. She clenched her teeth and forced the feelings inside of her down.
"Well… I don't think you want to try to crawl the whole rest of the way to the bathtub." She looked to Clark. He nodded and walked around the couch, reaching down to pick up Becca. She sighed and nodded that he could lift her, still clenching her teeth and thinking "heavy" thoughts.
"What brought you to Smallville, Becca?" Martha asked as she kept pace with Clark. Surprised by the question, she was momentarily distracted and felt it begin. She closed her eyes and focused everything in her, and felt herself settle back into Clark's arms. With her eyes closed, she couldn't see the weird look that Clark gave her.
After much ado, she finally found herself settled in the bathtub. Once she was clean, though, she had no interest in remaining in the water. Lifting herself out of it, she found the clothes that Martha had left and redressed. She opened the door and found that Mrs. Kent had returned to the kitchen and was talking to her son and husband.
"Do you have any idea what triggered it?"
"No, Mom! And… what if someone sees me?"
"It's a valid concern. Especially with Becca around. It was fortunate for us that she couldn't run after us to find out what was going on," came Jonathan's response.
This peaked Becca's curiosity beyond caution. She hadn't made it for twelve years by being oblivious to what was going on around her. And if she had an advantage in this little game, then she might as well use it. She moved silently out toward the kitchen, closer where she could hear them as they lowered their voices.
"What are we going to do about Becca?" Clark questioned.
Martha replied after a moment of silence. "I'm afraid she may have nowhere to go. And she's not really going anywhere with that ankle. She did quite a number on it."
"She's probably the least of our problems," pointed out Clark's father. "For now, she doesn't have very much mobility. We should probably be more concerned about what Clark should do if this reoccurs."
Clark laughed, but there was little amusement in it. "Not likely that I'll hurt myself."
Becca could imagine the sympathetic look that Martha had to be giving to her son as she responded to the tone of his voice. "Clark, it's going to be fine. We'll get through this just like all the others, one at a time."
She wondered what they could possibly be talking about. Suddenly, she noticed that the silence was unnatural. Before she could react Clark had rounded the couch. She winced as she hit the ground, but hoped that he hadn't caught a glimpse of where she had been.
Clark looked down at her, frowning. Martha, on the other hand, was more confused than upset. "How?"
But Jonathan's voice was the most stern. "What kind of game are you playing?"
Becca hid her face. Now she was in trouble. She wondered if even her backup plan to escape would work now. This was becoming far more dangerous than simply a chance of not getting breakfast.
This time there would be no comfort from Martha, apparently. She could hear Jonathan step closer, and he spoke again. "Look at me." Almost without thinking about it Becca found herself looking up at him. His face was not angry, but it was most certainly not happy either. "We're friendly people, but we do not tolerate liars or trouble-makers. Would you like to explain yourself?"
She seriously considered making a "run" for it. It wouldn't be the first time, but it was rare that she had to escape in plain sight. If it didn't succeed, it could have some very unhappy consequences.
Finally, she decided to go with the truth and see where that got her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she responded, unable to keep a bit of frustration out of her voice.
She almost thought she saw a bit of smile cross Clark's face. "Try us."
"How about we just go with 'I floated out here'? Then we can get on with whatever you want to do with me," she responded sullenly.
She caught a glimpse of nonverbal communication above her head, and then Clark nodded and his parents walked a short distance away.
Becca looked up at Clark. "How about if I save y'all the trouble and just get myself out of here. Then you don't have to decide what to "do" with me."
Once again, Clark seemed more curious than anything else. "How do you intend to get out of here, exactly? Last I checked, your ankle was pretty badly sprained. Unless you were faking that…"
"Unfortunately, no," she responded. She clambered up onto the couch, trying to get higher. With two of them gone, she just might be able to get out of here…
She watched as Clark moved slightly closer. Fortunately for her, he moved to the side of the couch that she was on. If she went over the back she could make it!
Letting go, she shot up in the air, heading straight for the door. But-Clark somehow made it around the couch and snagged her out of the air. She screamed and forced herself to let go, her weight dropping quickly towards the floor. She braced herself to hit the floor but Clark's reflexes were impressive and he managed to catch her. Then he stood next to the couch, staring at her with wide eyes, as his parents ran in.
"What happened?" they demanded in unison.
He turned his head slightly to see them. "She-" he looked back at Becca, confused. "I think… This might sound really stupid, but I think she flew."
Becca mustered her best derisive look, but somehow it didn't make it to her face. Instead, she curled up and began to cry. She remained in that position for quite a while, undisturbed, until she opened her eyes to find herself hovering two feet above the couch and the Kent family watching her. Somehow, they didn't look that surprised. Certainly, at least, they weren't screaming or running to the phone to call the police. At least, not unless she had missed that.
Finally, Clark broke the silence. "Well, that explains quite a bit." Nervous laughter broke out among them, and quickly returned to silence.
Becca eyed them nervously. "You-you didn't call anyone?" She hadn't bothered to bring herself down onto the couch yet. Now that they knew, it was a bit too much effort for the moment.
"Your secret is safe with us," Clark told her confidently. I looked at him. Why were they taking this so calmly? What was going on?
Then she got an idea. "Well, since you know my secret now, would you mind telling me what really happened to you this morning?"
Clark sent a worried glance in his parents' direction, and they looked at one another and then Mr. Kent nodded slightly.
"Actually… maybe you can help," he began nervously. "You see… I kind of, well, woke up in a tree this morning."
She moved upward abruptly, and then deliberately brought herself down closer to eye level with him. "In a tree?"
He nodded. "You went to sleep in your bed?" He nodded again. "And you've never had a problem with sleepwalking?" Negative.
"So you… you think you flew up there?" she asked incredulously. "Obviously it's not impossible, but why would you suddenly just start flying one night?"
He shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time something strange has happened," was all he could offer in explanation.
"Well, now we're even… but I don't know that I can really help you."
He looked disappointed. She remembered suddenly how it felt when she had suddenly begun having similar problems, twelve years before. She sighed. "I'll try, but it will have to be later. You don't want to practice in the daylight. And you'll only hurt yourself in here."
Clark nodded quickly. "Thanks so much for your help."
"Meanwhile…" she bit her lip in concentration, straightened out, and moved so that her feet were less than an inch from the ground. "… I think I can create a semblance of normality." She shook her head. "I still can't believe that you took it so well. Are you sure that you aren't just stalling me?"
Clark shook his head, and Jonathan spoke up. "No, we aren't, but speaking of stalling, we had better get a move on. You two figuring out a way to thwart gravity doesn't make the chores go away."
Becca laughed out loud, and realized that that was the first time since she could remember that she had honestly laughed. She quickly rubbed her eyes to hide the tears that suddenly threatened to spill down her face. "Well, this turned out to be much more painless than I expected," she managed.
Shameless plea for reviews: I'm a poor starving author (and college student)! Since I know you're not going to pay me, at least you can attempt to sustain me with some reviews so I know that people are reading my work and what you all think. C'mon, click the button below and write a little something!
Going Home, Part 2
She awoke with a start to the sound of the doorknob turning. She caught herself just in time to avoid the loud noise of her body hitting the bed. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and looked up to see Martha entering.
"Did you sleep well dear?" Becca nodded as she sat up.
"Thank you so much for letting me sleep here," she added with a smile, still relieved that the disaster she had been dreading had been averted.
Martha returned her smile. "You look much better this morning. How about we get you a bath and some breakfast?" Her eyes strayed to Becca's ankle. "How does your ankle feel?"
Becca gently pulled up her pant leg to reveal a swollen ankle, frowning. Martha made some worried noises and said, "Looks like that's due for some more ice once we get you cleaned up."
"Why are you going to all this work over me?" Becca asked her abruptly.
Martha stopped in the middle of her ministrations. "Why? How could we not?"
"You don't owe me anything," she responded with a frown.
"We're not doing this out of obligation. It's just… there's no way, in good conscience, we could let a-" Martha stopped for a moment, choosing her words. "A girl who was hurt just stay in the woods. Besides, you seem like a very nice girl."
A slightly bitter laugh escaped through Becca's lips, and she shook her head slightly. Martha dropped the subject and turned back to the former focus. "I have some fresh clothes and a towel in the bathroom for you. Now we just need to get you there and you can have a nice warm bath and come out for breakfast when you're ready."
Becca sighed at the thought of once again trying to move. But now that she was here, she could hardly turn down the chance to get clean and have some food. After that, then she could disappear and nurse her ankle back to health in the safety of isolation.
Martha held out her arm. "Come on, I'll help you." Reluctantly, Becca stood to her feet… or, more accurately, her foot. She tried to figure out how to do this without hurting herself again. Placing her arm around Martha's shoulders, she leaned forward as though about to step, then realized she was about to put her weight on her bad foot. Once again, she began to shake as she fought her natural instinct, bred for twelve years, and tried to do things the way she was expected to.
Martha looked at Becca in concern as she removed her arm from around her shoulders. "Maybe I should have one of the men carry you again." She nodded, and Martha turned and yelled, "Clark!"
They both waited a moment, but there was no response. Martha tried another tack. "Jonathan?"
"Yes?" came the answer, yelled from another part of the house.
"Where is Clark?"
A short silence, and then, "I don't know. I'll be right back." Becca heard the door open and close, and then Jonathan yelling, "Clark!"
From outside, Becca and Martha heard, "Wha-AHHHHH!"
Martha was out the door before Becca could even turn back. Outside, she could hear Jonathan shouting, "Clark?!" Soon he was joined by Martha.
After a moment, their voices quieted, but Becca could see no sign of them. Frustrated, she took a chance and slipped off the bed and out into the living room. She stopped on the couch, knowing that she couldn't justify having crawled any further than that, and waited.
Five minutes later, the three of them walked in. "I'm fine!" she heard Clark protest.
"This time," Jonathan pointed out pessimistically.
Martha was about to add her two cents when she looked up. "Becca!" This turned all three heads toward her. "How did you get out here?"
Becca looked at Clark. "What happened?" she asked, deliberately ignoring the question for the moment.
Clark looked sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing… I just…"
Jonathan helped out his embarrassed son. "He just had a little fall in the barn."
Clark shot a frustrated glance at his father, then nodded. "Yeah... I'm not the most coordinated person in the world."
Becca shrugged. "Neither am I."
"Speaking of which, how did you get out here?" Martha repeated. "You couldn't have walked on that ankle."
"I crawled," she lied, looking down so they couldn't see her face. Her urge to escape was growing, and she realized suddenly that it was getting harder to feel the couch. She clenched her teeth and forced the feelings inside of her down.
"Well… I don't think you want to try to crawl the whole rest of the way to the bathtub." She looked to Clark. He nodded and walked around the couch, reaching down to pick up Becca. She sighed and nodded that he could lift her, still clenching her teeth and thinking "heavy" thoughts.
"What brought you to Smallville, Becca?" Martha asked as she kept pace with Clark. Surprised by the question, she was momentarily distracted and felt it begin. She closed her eyes and focused everything in her, and felt herself settle back into Clark's arms. With her eyes closed, she couldn't see the weird look that Clark gave her.
After much ado, she finally found herself settled in the bathtub. Once she was clean, though, she had no interest in remaining in the water. Lifting herself out of it, she found the clothes that Martha had left and redressed. She opened the door and found that Mrs. Kent had returned to the kitchen and was talking to her son and husband.
"Do you have any idea what triggered it?"
"No, Mom! And… what if someone sees me?"
"It's a valid concern. Especially with Becca around. It was fortunate for us that she couldn't run after us to find out what was going on," came Jonathan's response.
This peaked Becca's curiosity beyond caution. She hadn't made it for twelve years by being oblivious to what was going on around her. And if she had an advantage in this little game, then she might as well use it. She moved silently out toward the kitchen, closer where she could hear them as they lowered their voices.
"What are we going to do about Becca?" Clark questioned.
Martha replied after a moment of silence. "I'm afraid she may have nowhere to go. And she's not really going anywhere with that ankle. She did quite a number on it."
"She's probably the least of our problems," pointed out Clark's father. "For now, she doesn't have very much mobility. We should probably be more concerned about what Clark should do if this reoccurs."
Clark laughed, but there was little amusement in it. "Not likely that I'll hurt myself."
Becca could imagine the sympathetic look that Martha had to be giving to her son as she responded to the tone of his voice. "Clark, it's going to be fine. We'll get through this just like all the others, one at a time."
She wondered what they could possibly be talking about. Suddenly, she noticed that the silence was unnatural. Before she could react Clark had rounded the couch. She winced as she hit the ground, but hoped that he hadn't caught a glimpse of where she had been.
Clark looked down at her, frowning. Martha, on the other hand, was more confused than upset. "How?"
But Jonathan's voice was the most stern. "What kind of game are you playing?"
Becca hid her face. Now she was in trouble. She wondered if even her backup plan to escape would work now. This was becoming far more dangerous than simply a chance of not getting breakfast.
This time there would be no comfort from Martha, apparently. She could hear Jonathan step closer, and he spoke again. "Look at me." Almost without thinking about it Becca found herself looking up at him. His face was not angry, but it was most certainly not happy either. "We're friendly people, but we do not tolerate liars or trouble-makers. Would you like to explain yourself?"
She seriously considered making a "run" for it. It wouldn't be the first time, but it was rare that she had to escape in plain sight. If it didn't succeed, it could have some very unhappy consequences.
Finally, she decided to go with the truth and see where that got her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she responded, unable to keep a bit of frustration out of her voice.
She almost thought she saw a bit of smile cross Clark's face. "Try us."
"How about we just go with 'I floated out here'? Then we can get on with whatever you want to do with me," she responded sullenly.
She caught a glimpse of nonverbal communication above her head, and then Clark nodded and his parents walked a short distance away.
Becca looked up at Clark. "How about if I save y'all the trouble and just get myself out of here. Then you don't have to decide what to "do" with me."
Once again, Clark seemed more curious than anything else. "How do you intend to get out of here, exactly? Last I checked, your ankle was pretty badly sprained. Unless you were faking that…"
"Unfortunately, no," she responded. She clambered up onto the couch, trying to get higher. With two of them gone, she just might be able to get out of here…
She watched as Clark moved slightly closer. Fortunately for her, he moved to the side of the couch that she was on. If she went over the back she could make it!
Letting go, she shot up in the air, heading straight for the door. But-Clark somehow made it around the couch and snagged her out of the air. She screamed and forced herself to let go, her weight dropping quickly towards the floor. She braced herself to hit the floor but Clark's reflexes were impressive and he managed to catch her. Then he stood next to the couch, staring at her with wide eyes, as his parents ran in.
"What happened?" they demanded in unison.
He turned his head slightly to see them. "She-" he looked back at Becca, confused. "I think… This might sound really stupid, but I think she flew."
Becca mustered her best derisive look, but somehow it didn't make it to her face. Instead, she curled up and began to cry. She remained in that position for quite a while, undisturbed, until she opened her eyes to find herself hovering two feet above the couch and the Kent family watching her. Somehow, they didn't look that surprised. Certainly, at least, they weren't screaming or running to the phone to call the police. At least, not unless she had missed that.
Finally, Clark broke the silence. "Well, that explains quite a bit." Nervous laughter broke out among them, and quickly returned to silence.
Becca eyed them nervously. "You-you didn't call anyone?" She hadn't bothered to bring herself down onto the couch yet. Now that they knew, it was a bit too much effort for the moment.
"Your secret is safe with us," Clark told her confidently. I looked at him. Why were they taking this so calmly? What was going on?
Then she got an idea. "Well, since you know my secret now, would you mind telling me what really happened to you this morning?"
Clark sent a worried glance in his parents' direction, and they looked at one another and then Mr. Kent nodded slightly.
"Actually… maybe you can help," he began nervously. "You see… I kind of, well, woke up in a tree this morning."
She moved upward abruptly, and then deliberately brought herself down closer to eye level with him. "In a tree?"
He nodded. "You went to sleep in your bed?" He nodded again. "And you've never had a problem with sleepwalking?" Negative.
"So you… you think you flew up there?" she asked incredulously. "Obviously it's not impossible, but why would you suddenly just start flying one night?"
He shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time something strange has happened," was all he could offer in explanation.
"Well, now we're even… but I don't know that I can really help you."
He looked disappointed. She remembered suddenly how it felt when she had suddenly begun having similar problems, twelve years before. She sighed. "I'll try, but it will have to be later. You don't want to practice in the daylight. And you'll only hurt yourself in here."
Clark nodded quickly. "Thanks so much for your help."
"Meanwhile…" she bit her lip in concentration, straightened out, and moved so that her feet were less than an inch from the ground. "… I think I can create a semblance of normality." She shook her head. "I still can't believe that you took it so well. Are you sure that you aren't just stalling me?"
Clark shook his head, and Jonathan spoke up. "No, we aren't, but speaking of stalling, we had better get a move on. You two figuring out a way to thwart gravity doesn't make the chores go away."
Becca laughed out loud, and realized that that was the first time since she could remember that she had honestly laughed. She quickly rubbed her eyes to hide the tears that suddenly threatened to spill down her face. "Well, this turned out to be much more painless than I expected," she managed.
Shameless plea for reviews: I'm a poor starving author (and college student)! Since I know you're not going to pay me, at least you can attempt to sustain me with some reviews so I know that people are reading my work and what you all think. C'mon, click the button below and write a little something!