Confessions of a Superman
By Jeune Ecrivain
Rating: G, maybe PG
Genre: futurefic, drama, romance
Summary: When Superman comes up in conversation, 25-year-old Lana Lang gets the biggest clue of her life.
PART II
Lana waited anxiously in front of the apartment door. Her emotions where still cycling between angry, shocked, thrilled, and sad. She had so much to say to this "Man of Steel." So much to say to the small town farm boy who had courted her heart only to refuse it when she finally offered it years ago.
The door opened. There stood a man in khaki pants and a cardigan. His hair looked like a shorter version of the classic Beatle look. A pair of mildly thick glasses added depth to his face, and he had one of the most solid builds Lana had ever seen.
"Lana?" asked Clark Kent. His mouth broke into a wide smile. "What are you doing here? It's great to see you." He embraced her eagerly.
She returned his hug, wishing for that moment that this was what he obviously thought it was: just a friendly visit from a close high school pal. But she had issues to settle with him.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said vaguely, glaring at him solemnly.
Clark looked slightly disconcerted at her expression, but answered, "Sure. C'mon in."
Lana entered the modest apartment. It was unusually tidy for a male inhabitant, which seemed to reflect Clark's dress patterns. He dressed with a subtle preppiness she didn't recall ever being Clark's style in high school. But he seemed to have adapted to it well.
This only reminded her of her original intentions, since it occurred to her that the glasses and the cardigan were likely devices of disguise, by which he separated Clark Kent from his caped alter-ego.
"Can I get you something?" Clark asked.
"No," Lana said softly. "Thank you." She swallowed, then proceeded. "Clark, I have some important matters to discuss." She sat down on the nearest couch she could find. Clark followed her example, sitting in an armchair across from her.
"Remember I told you I volunteered at the Big Brother/Big Sister?"
"Yeah."
"Well, my Little Brother is this boy named Josh. And he has this friend named Arthur."
"Yeah?" Clark was still clearly oblivious to the direction in which this discussion was going. Lana didn't know what she was going to do when it did become clear to him. He would probably try to deny it, as he had always done in conversations of this nature. But this time, she reminded herself, she was sure. Furthermore, she wasn't accusing him of some abstract secret. This time, she knew what this mysterious burden was that he always seemed to be carrying.
"Arthur told me and Josh that he had met Superman once," Lana continued, watching for even the slightest reaction at the mention of Superman.
She might have seen a flicker in his expression, but he smiled quickly and said, "I'll bet that was fun. I wouldn't mind meeting the guy, myself."
"Funny you should say that," Lana muttered bitterly without thinking.
Clark looked quizzical. "Why?"
"Arthur told me that, at the time, he was having trouble with girls, so to help him out, Superman told him about this girl that he was in love with.all through his childhood."
Lana definitely saw a split-second facial reaction this time. The light was beginning to dawn.
"Apparently Superman was in love with a girl who used to wear a kryptonite necklace, so he couldn't get close to her until she stopped wearing it when she was about 15. He wanted to be with her, but he felt he had to push her away to protect her because of his powers. She was always trying to get him to open up, but he never would."
Clark was clearly getting uneasy. He was not as good at hiding some things as he would have liked. Appearing disgruntled, he stood up, walked with his back to her to the window, and looked out. "Lana, I hope you didn't come here to remind me of how I hurt you by being secretive. I had my reasons, just as Superman did his. We've been over this."
Lana scoffed angrily. "Do you think I'm retarded?" she said, standing up with the force of her anger. "Arthur said that Superman ran away because he thought he was a threat to his friends and family! He was under the influence of some special kryptonite that made him act far different from himself! Superman saved this girl from a tornado, Clark, and he lied to her about it, told her he was never there!" Her fury ran out with that last exclamation, but a kind of hurt and frustration remained. "Call me crazy, but all that sounds a little too familiar! I wore a necklace with a piece of a green meteorite in it! You ran away for three months, and during that time, you were definitely not yourself! And let's not forget the tornado! Deny it all you want, Clark, but you were there! And you know what? Superman's habit of always being around in an emergency, always being there when someone needs him.It really puts me in mind of a certain farm boy I grew up with!" She paused, wanting very much to hear his reaction.
For a moment, he stood rigid and said nothing, his back still facing her. "Lana.I know there are a lot of coincidences, but you are really barking up the wrong tree."
The tears that had been hiding in her eyes burst out. But she was determined to remain stern. "Turn around," she said, a sort of menacing tone in her voice. The idea that had struck her was illogical, naively sentimental, but she didn't seem to care. She had a feeling in her gut. She was going on blind faith.
Slowly, Clark turned around, the stress showing on his face. Neither said a word.
Lana walked up to him so that her chest was a mere inch from his. She looked through the lenses of his glasses into the blue-green eyes that usually held such warmth and charm. She noted the pain in his eyes at seeing her tear-stained face, and on that note, she raised a tender hand and gently removed his glasses. Clark made no protest. He was paralyzed by her touch. Lana folded up the glasses and put them in her hip pocket. She then turned and stared straight into Clark's eyes. "Look me in the eye," she commanded softly but no less firmly, "and tell me you're not that boy whose powers had to be kept secret. Tell me you're not the boy who used his gifts to help those he cared for, and others as well. Tell me you're not the man who still does; the hero who hides his identity behind a blue body suit and red cape. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not Superman."
"Lana, I am not Superman," Clark said sternly.
"Nice try, Clark, but that's my nose," Lana said. "My eyes are up here." Why was he so stubborn about this?
"Lana."
"Do it."
Lana's voice made it clear that he had no choice. He looked into the green eyes that used to captivate him. The eyes that still did. The eyes that were now tearful, all because of him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Knowing that if he tried to avoid her eyes, she would call him on it and would accept no answer he gave while looking at anything else, he realized he had no way out. All those years of lying to the girl he loved, he had maxed himself out. He had hated lying to her then, and he hated lying to her now. His brain told him to lie once more, for her sake, but his heart, which had cooperated only reluctantly all those years, finally put its foot down.
Clark broke away from her stare. "Why are you doing this?" he almost yelled in frustration. He couldn't do it. Lying to her under normal circumstances was bad enough, but given no choice but to say it to her tearful yet determined eyes, his will failed him.
"You can't say it, can you?" Lana said in bitter triumph.
Clark's voice became hushed and resigned. "No," he said, swallowing.
"Because it's true."
Clark nodded.
"You are Superman."
"No," Clark shook his head. "Superman is a figurehead. That's all he is. He's an image; a tool; a symbol. I invented Superman so I could use my powers to help people and still live a normal life. But in order for that to work, people must never know the man behind the cape."
"I understand," Lana said, feeling a growing sympathy for a man who was perhaps the most burdened person in the world. "But why, Clark? Why push away those who love you because of a figurehead? I would've kept your secret. Pete too. Even Chloe."
"You would've hated me."
"You may be an alien, Clark, but you're more human than many of us claim to be. I wouldn't have cared. I'd have still loved you. And that stuff about knowing who you are making me a target.I don't care. Besides, I still managed to get into a lot of trouble. If anything, it would've helped to know why you were always there. And as long as I don't let on that there's even anything to know about you, why would anyone come after me for that reason?"
Clark shook his head. "Lana.I came to Earth in the meteor shower. Chances are, the ship that brought me here provoked it. I killed your parents, Lana!"
"You think I would've blamed you for my parents' death?" Lana said incredulously. "Clark," she added in a desperately reassuring voice, "that was not your fault!" She stared at him, wondering why he had to put such a morbid spin on his albeit bizarre origins. "Why, Clark?" she repeated. "You don't wanna go around telling just anybody, but your closest friends? We could've helped you. It would've been a lot easier to carry this burden if you had a few trusted friends you could talk to about it? Why were you so paranoid?"
Clark braced himself. "I did have someone. My parents.and Pete."
Lana cocked an eyebrow. "Pete knew?"
"He found my spaceship in the attic, so.we had to tell him."
"Well, I rest my case, then," Lana said. "Nothing bad happened to Pete, and your secret never got out."
"Hey, don't ever think it was easy," Clark reminded her. "I wanted nothing more than to have you as a girlfriend, to be close to you. I hated having to lie to you and push you away. But I had to."
"No, you didn't," Lana insisted. "Ok, maybe you did at first, when we were getting to know each other, but.you really meant a lot to me. You still do. If keeping an important secret was all you asked of me in order for us to be together, I would've done it in a heartbeat." Clark opened his moth, but she anticipated his thoughts. "And what were you protecting me from, anyway? I still had a lot of freaks and bad guys come after me, even without knowing the truth about you. If anything, letting me know would've made it easier for you to protect me from them."
"It's not that simple."
"Because you won't let it be," Lana said with a soft stomp of her foot. "Don't you get it, Clark? The people that love you, they almost have a right to know, especially when you always mysteriously show up to save them when they're in trouble, often surviving what should be fatal situations in the process. And your friends may have been able to help you keep your secret from people that you couldn't trust. I know now that having these powers can be hard, but you made it even harder on yourself by not even letting those closest to you in on it."
Clark didn't know what to say. Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything. A knock sounded at his door once more. Clark tried to regain a less strained facial expression as he opened the door, Lana standing there to let him know under no uncertain terms that their discussion would be resumed as soon as the visitor left.
A young African-American man greeted Clark's view. "Pete," Clark said, surprised.
Before Clark could invite him in, Pete Ross spoke. "Clark, I just stopped by to warn you. Chloe's on her way here. Like her usual self, she just couldn't resist looking into Superman's origins."
"Not her, too!" Clark groaned.
"What do you mean 'not her, too?'" Pete asked, puzzled. "Why the 'too?'" he asked, concern appearing on his face.
"She's figured me out, hasn't she?"
"I'm afraid so," Pete nodded.
Clark opened the door wider to let Lana into Pete's line of view. "That makes two of 'em," he said resignedly.
"Lana," Pete swallowed.
Lana gave him a small smile.
"What happened?" Pete asked, entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.
"Do you remember I told you about that boy I saved. Said he was having girl troubles, so I told him about what I went through with Lana?" Clark started
"Yeah," Pete said, eyeing Lana. He was leery of being so open around her.
"Well, Lana entered the Big Brother/Big Sister program, and this boy was her Little Brother's friend. Apparently, he told my story back to Lana, and she recognized herself."
"So."
"She knows. I tried to keep the secret one more time, but it was no use. I just couldn't do it," Clark sat down with his last statement. Superman was exhausted.
"Wow!" Pete marveled. He turned to Lana. "How does it feel to finally understand why Clark was the way he was?" he asked.
Lana thought about it, and was a little surprised at the answer. "Relieved," she said.
Pete turned back to Clark. "Okay, so Lana knows. What do we do about Chloe? She'll probably be here soon."
Clark paused. "We tell her," he said bemusedly.
"Really?" said Pete skeptically. "You sure?"
"Knowing her, there's probably no feasible way of explaining whatever evidence she's piled up anyway," Clark said. "Besides," he added with a nod towards Lana, "I've decided I'm going to stop lying to those that love me and that I know I can trust."
Lana smiled gently at him.
"Lana just reminded me of how much I hated having to lie to everyone even in high school. We're not kids anymore, and after all these years, I think she deserves to know."
"So, no pretenses?" Pete asked, starting to like the idea.
"No pretenses. I'm done deceiving my closest friends."
"Clark." Lana began.
Clark looked up at her.
"I hope you don't think I don't feel for you. That must've been really tough, having to keep a secret like that."
"Thank you, Lana. That means a lot," Clark nodded sincerely. "I'm just sorry I had to hurt you in the process."
"That's in the past," Lana shrugged. "It's over now."
"I know what you mean by 'relieved,'" Clark said, surprised at his own relief. "So, we're good?" Clark queried.
Lana nodded warmly. "Yeah. We are."
By Jeune Ecrivain
Rating: G, maybe PG
Genre: futurefic, drama, romance
Summary: When Superman comes up in conversation, 25-year-old Lana Lang gets the biggest clue of her life.
PART II
Lana waited anxiously in front of the apartment door. Her emotions where still cycling between angry, shocked, thrilled, and sad. She had so much to say to this "Man of Steel." So much to say to the small town farm boy who had courted her heart only to refuse it when she finally offered it years ago.
The door opened. There stood a man in khaki pants and a cardigan. His hair looked like a shorter version of the classic Beatle look. A pair of mildly thick glasses added depth to his face, and he had one of the most solid builds Lana had ever seen.
"Lana?" asked Clark Kent. His mouth broke into a wide smile. "What are you doing here? It's great to see you." He embraced her eagerly.
She returned his hug, wishing for that moment that this was what he obviously thought it was: just a friendly visit from a close high school pal. But she had issues to settle with him.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said vaguely, glaring at him solemnly.
Clark looked slightly disconcerted at her expression, but answered, "Sure. C'mon in."
Lana entered the modest apartment. It was unusually tidy for a male inhabitant, which seemed to reflect Clark's dress patterns. He dressed with a subtle preppiness she didn't recall ever being Clark's style in high school. But he seemed to have adapted to it well.
This only reminded her of her original intentions, since it occurred to her that the glasses and the cardigan were likely devices of disguise, by which he separated Clark Kent from his caped alter-ego.
"Can I get you something?" Clark asked.
"No," Lana said softly. "Thank you." She swallowed, then proceeded. "Clark, I have some important matters to discuss." She sat down on the nearest couch she could find. Clark followed her example, sitting in an armchair across from her.
"Remember I told you I volunteered at the Big Brother/Big Sister?"
"Yeah."
"Well, my Little Brother is this boy named Josh. And he has this friend named Arthur."
"Yeah?" Clark was still clearly oblivious to the direction in which this discussion was going. Lana didn't know what she was going to do when it did become clear to him. He would probably try to deny it, as he had always done in conversations of this nature. But this time, she reminded herself, she was sure. Furthermore, she wasn't accusing him of some abstract secret. This time, she knew what this mysterious burden was that he always seemed to be carrying.
"Arthur told me and Josh that he had met Superman once," Lana continued, watching for even the slightest reaction at the mention of Superman.
She might have seen a flicker in his expression, but he smiled quickly and said, "I'll bet that was fun. I wouldn't mind meeting the guy, myself."
"Funny you should say that," Lana muttered bitterly without thinking.
Clark looked quizzical. "Why?"
"Arthur told me that, at the time, he was having trouble with girls, so to help him out, Superman told him about this girl that he was in love with.all through his childhood."
Lana definitely saw a split-second facial reaction this time. The light was beginning to dawn.
"Apparently Superman was in love with a girl who used to wear a kryptonite necklace, so he couldn't get close to her until she stopped wearing it when she was about 15. He wanted to be with her, but he felt he had to push her away to protect her because of his powers. She was always trying to get him to open up, but he never would."
Clark was clearly getting uneasy. He was not as good at hiding some things as he would have liked. Appearing disgruntled, he stood up, walked with his back to her to the window, and looked out. "Lana, I hope you didn't come here to remind me of how I hurt you by being secretive. I had my reasons, just as Superman did his. We've been over this."
Lana scoffed angrily. "Do you think I'm retarded?" she said, standing up with the force of her anger. "Arthur said that Superman ran away because he thought he was a threat to his friends and family! He was under the influence of some special kryptonite that made him act far different from himself! Superman saved this girl from a tornado, Clark, and he lied to her about it, told her he was never there!" Her fury ran out with that last exclamation, but a kind of hurt and frustration remained. "Call me crazy, but all that sounds a little too familiar! I wore a necklace with a piece of a green meteorite in it! You ran away for three months, and during that time, you were definitely not yourself! And let's not forget the tornado! Deny it all you want, Clark, but you were there! And you know what? Superman's habit of always being around in an emergency, always being there when someone needs him.It really puts me in mind of a certain farm boy I grew up with!" She paused, wanting very much to hear his reaction.
For a moment, he stood rigid and said nothing, his back still facing her. "Lana.I know there are a lot of coincidences, but you are really barking up the wrong tree."
The tears that had been hiding in her eyes burst out. But she was determined to remain stern. "Turn around," she said, a sort of menacing tone in her voice. The idea that had struck her was illogical, naively sentimental, but she didn't seem to care. She had a feeling in her gut. She was going on blind faith.
Slowly, Clark turned around, the stress showing on his face. Neither said a word.
Lana walked up to him so that her chest was a mere inch from his. She looked through the lenses of his glasses into the blue-green eyes that usually held such warmth and charm. She noted the pain in his eyes at seeing her tear-stained face, and on that note, she raised a tender hand and gently removed his glasses. Clark made no protest. He was paralyzed by her touch. Lana folded up the glasses and put them in her hip pocket. She then turned and stared straight into Clark's eyes. "Look me in the eye," she commanded softly but no less firmly, "and tell me you're not that boy whose powers had to be kept secret. Tell me you're not the boy who used his gifts to help those he cared for, and others as well. Tell me you're not the man who still does; the hero who hides his identity behind a blue body suit and red cape. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not Superman."
"Lana, I am not Superman," Clark said sternly.
"Nice try, Clark, but that's my nose," Lana said. "My eyes are up here." Why was he so stubborn about this?
"Lana."
"Do it."
Lana's voice made it clear that he had no choice. He looked into the green eyes that used to captivate him. The eyes that still did. The eyes that were now tearful, all because of him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Knowing that if he tried to avoid her eyes, she would call him on it and would accept no answer he gave while looking at anything else, he realized he had no way out. All those years of lying to the girl he loved, he had maxed himself out. He had hated lying to her then, and he hated lying to her now. His brain told him to lie once more, for her sake, but his heart, which had cooperated only reluctantly all those years, finally put its foot down.
Clark broke away from her stare. "Why are you doing this?" he almost yelled in frustration. He couldn't do it. Lying to her under normal circumstances was bad enough, but given no choice but to say it to her tearful yet determined eyes, his will failed him.
"You can't say it, can you?" Lana said in bitter triumph.
Clark's voice became hushed and resigned. "No," he said, swallowing.
"Because it's true."
Clark nodded.
"You are Superman."
"No," Clark shook his head. "Superman is a figurehead. That's all he is. He's an image; a tool; a symbol. I invented Superman so I could use my powers to help people and still live a normal life. But in order for that to work, people must never know the man behind the cape."
"I understand," Lana said, feeling a growing sympathy for a man who was perhaps the most burdened person in the world. "But why, Clark? Why push away those who love you because of a figurehead? I would've kept your secret. Pete too. Even Chloe."
"You would've hated me."
"You may be an alien, Clark, but you're more human than many of us claim to be. I wouldn't have cared. I'd have still loved you. And that stuff about knowing who you are making me a target.I don't care. Besides, I still managed to get into a lot of trouble. If anything, it would've helped to know why you were always there. And as long as I don't let on that there's even anything to know about you, why would anyone come after me for that reason?"
Clark shook his head. "Lana.I came to Earth in the meteor shower. Chances are, the ship that brought me here provoked it. I killed your parents, Lana!"
"You think I would've blamed you for my parents' death?" Lana said incredulously. "Clark," she added in a desperately reassuring voice, "that was not your fault!" She stared at him, wondering why he had to put such a morbid spin on his albeit bizarre origins. "Why, Clark?" she repeated. "You don't wanna go around telling just anybody, but your closest friends? We could've helped you. It would've been a lot easier to carry this burden if you had a few trusted friends you could talk to about it? Why were you so paranoid?"
Clark braced himself. "I did have someone. My parents.and Pete."
Lana cocked an eyebrow. "Pete knew?"
"He found my spaceship in the attic, so.we had to tell him."
"Well, I rest my case, then," Lana said. "Nothing bad happened to Pete, and your secret never got out."
"Hey, don't ever think it was easy," Clark reminded her. "I wanted nothing more than to have you as a girlfriend, to be close to you. I hated having to lie to you and push you away. But I had to."
"No, you didn't," Lana insisted. "Ok, maybe you did at first, when we were getting to know each other, but.you really meant a lot to me. You still do. If keeping an important secret was all you asked of me in order for us to be together, I would've done it in a heartbeat." Clark opened his moth, but she anticipated his thoughts. "And what were you protecting me from, anyway? I still had a lot of freaks and bad guys come after me, even without knowing the truth about you. If anything, letting me know would've made it easier for you to protect me from them."
"It's not that simple."
"Because you won't let it be," Lana said with a soft stomp of her foot. "Don't you get it, Clark? The people that love you, they almost have a right to know, especially when you always mysteriously show up to save them when they're in trouble, often surviving what should be fatal situations in the process. And your friends may have been able to help you keep your secret from people that you couldn't trust. I know now that having these powers can be hard, but you made it even harder on yourself by not even letting those closest to you in on it."
Clark didn't know what to say. Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything. A knock sounded at his door once more. Clark tried to regain a less strained facial expression as he opened the door, Lana standing there to let him know under no uncertain terms that their discussion would be resumed as soon as the visitor left.
A young African-American man greeted Clark's view. "Pete," Clark said, surprised.
Before Clark could invite him in, Pete Ross spoke. "Clark, I just stopped by to warn you. Chloe's on her way here. Like her usual self, she just couldn't resist looking into Superman's origins."
"Not her, too!" Clark groaned.
"What do you mean 'not her, too?'" Pete asked, puzzled. "Why the 'too?'" he asked, concern appearing on his face.
"She's figured me out, hasn't she?"
"I'm afraid so," Pete nodded.
Clark opened the door wider to let Lana into Pete's line of view. "That makes two of 'em," he said resignedly.
"Lana," Pete swallowed.
Lana gave him a small smile.
"What happened?" Pete asked, entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.
"Do you remember I told you about that boy I saved. Said he was having girl troubles, so I told him about what I went through with Lana?" Clark started
"Yeah," Pete said, eyeing Lana. He was leery of being so open around her.
"Well, Lana entered the Big Brother/Big Sister program, and this boy was her Little Brother's friend. Apparently, he told my story back to Lana, and she recognized herself."
"So."
"She knows. I tried to keep the secret one more time, but it was no use. I just couldn't do it," Clark sat down with his last statement. Superman was exhausted.
"Wow!" Pete marveled. He turned to Lana. "How does it feel to finally understand why Clark was the way he was?" he asked.
Lana thought about it, and was a little surprised at the answer. "Relieved," she said.
Pete turned back to Clark. "Okay, so Lana knows. What do we do about Chloe? She'll probably be here soon."
Clark paused. "We tell her," he said bemusedly.
"Really?" said Pete skeptically. "You sure?"
"Knowing her, there's probably no feasible way of explaining whatever evidence she's piled up anyway," Clark said. "Besides," he added with a nod towards Lana, "I've decided I'm going to stop lying to those that love me and that I know I can trust."
Lana smiled gently at him.
"Lana just reminded me of how much I hated having to lie to everyone even in high school. We're not kids anymore, and after all these years, I think she deserves to know."
"So, no pretenses?" Pete asked, starting to like the idea.
"No pretenses. I'm done deceiving my closest friends."
"Clark." Lana began.
Clark looked up at her.
"I hope you don't think I don't feel for you. That must've been really tough, having to keep a secret like that."
"Thank you, Lana. That means a lot," Clark nodded sincerely. "I'm just sorry I had to hurt you in the process."
"That's in the past," Lana shrugged. "It's over now."
"I know what you mean by 'relieved,'" Clark said, surprised at his own relief. "So, we're good?" Clark queried.
Lana nodded warmly. "Yeah. We are."