PART FIVE
Chris jumped out of the bed and hurried across the room.
"Man, I am so sorry!" Taking Clark's arm, he helped him rise to his feet. "Are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah," Clark mumbled, "I'm fine." Still a little dazed by his 'trip', he leaned one hand against the wall to help keep his balance. He might be invulnerable, but being tossed across the room by an invisible force was enough to unsettle anyone. Glancing at Chris out of the corner of his eye, he wondered just how many powers this guy had, anyway?
"You kind of startled me, I guess," Chris continued. "I so didn't mean…"
"It's alright, really," Clark interrupted, "I'm fine. But I can't say the same for the furniture."
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, the two young men studied what was left of the chest of drawers.
"Oh, man," Chris sighed as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. "I'd offer to fix it, but that's more my dad's thing."
Before Clark could tell him, again, that it was alright, Martha Kent rushed into the room.
"What happened?" she exclaimed. "I heard a crash, and…" When she caught sight of the late, great chest of drawers, her eyes grew wide. "Oh."
"We had a, uh, an accident," Clark said.
Martha gave him a look that said she expected more of an explanation than that.
"It was my fault," Chris assured her. "I was having a bad dream and, when Clark tried to wake me up, I sort of…" Suddenly, he seemed at a loss for words, as if unsure how to explain what happened. Finally, he shrugged and waved his hand in Martha's direction. Alarmed, Clark instinctively started to lunge in his direction, half afraid his mother was about to be flung across the room too. But, instead, the door simply slammed shut behind her.
Martha jumped and swung around to stare at the door. Then, as what happened dawned on her, her eyes grew even wider, and her mouth dropped open. "Oh."
Chris winced, seeming almost embarrassed. "Sorry." He glanced over his shoulder at the mess on the floor. "About that, too."
After a moment of stunned silence, Martha gave her head a shake. "Uh, w-well, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm. And that old thing has seen better days." She smiled, but it was filled with uneasiness. Walking over to her son, she put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, honey?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Clark said as he smiled down at her. Considering what she knew about him, she logically knew he wouldn't be hurt. But he supposed her motherly concern threw all that logic out the window. "Really."
"Only, you shouldn't be." Chris said. At their confused frowns, he hurried to continue. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're okay. Only"—he glanced down at the mess on the floor, then back up at Clark—"I mean, there isn't a scratch on you. You don't seem to be hurt at all. But you completely demolished what was probably a pretty solid piece of furniture. "
Clark winced. He'd kind of hoped Chris wouldn't notice he wasn't as hurt as he should be. And it hadn't occurred to him to fake an injury until…well, right now.
"I'm a lot stronger than I look," Clark said evasively, then flinched at how lame that sounded.
Not surprisingly, Chris didn't look at all convinced.
"Well, dinner's almost ready," Martha said, probably in an attempt to change the subject. "It'll be another fifteen minutes or so. Why don't you two, uh…" She waved her hand helplessly, obviously searching for something to tell them to do.
"We'll clean this stuff up, Mom,"
"Good!" She gave Clark a look of gratitude. "You two clean up the mess, and I'll just…go." After another moment of hesitation, she turned and walked out the door.
An uneasy quiet filled the room as both occupants tried to think of something to say.
"You sure you're okay?" Chris finally asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up, that's all." Clark's smile was cautious. "That's some power you've got there."
Chris shrugged. "It comes in handy. Although I don't use it very often." He gave Clark a thoughtful look. "And I'm wondering why you and your mom aren't more surprised by all of this. Most people who saw me do what you saw me do…"
"You live in Smallville long enough, you realize anything is possible. I've met a lot of people who were given unusual powers by the meteors. Although, you seem to have more than most."
"Uh, right," Chris muttered. "The meteors." Avoiding Clark's eyes, he looked down at the floor. "I think we're going to need a box or something to put all this stuff in."
Clark frowned. It didn't take a genius to realize Chris was hiding something. Clark couldn't help wondering what it was. And there was one important question that had yet to be answered.
How much did Chris now know about Clark?
As Chris sliced into an expertly cooked steak, he glanced around the dining room table. The entire Kent family was there, including Jonathan Kent, who Chris had met less than half an hour ago. And Chris didn't miss the slightly suspicious glances the man kept throwing his way.
In fact, the tension at the table was hard to miss. It seemed like the Kents were trying to act the way they normally did at the dinner table, chatting about the events of their day. But, even when they weren't looking at him, Chris felt like he was the center of their attention.
"This is great, Mrs. Kent," he said, indicating his dinner. In fact, it was almost as good as his mom's, and Piper Halliwell was a trained chef.
"Thank you, Chris," Martha said. "I'm glad you like it. And I'm glad you're feeling better, after what happened earlier."
It was like this was the queue everyone was waiting for. As one, they turned to stare at their guest.
"Exactly what did happen earlier?" Clark asked. "I mean, it was more than a little unusual. And, before you passed out, you said something. Something you couldn't have known about unless…"
Chris sighed. He'd known this was going to come up, and had been wondering how he would explain ever since he woke up. Or if he should explain at all. Or how much.
As he ate, he'd given it a lot of thought. If what he suspected was true, he figured there were few people in Smallville who would understand—eventually—the truth about him better than this family. Besides, under the circumstances, he needed all the help he could get.
"Nothing like this has ever happened to me before," Chris began as he set down his knife and fork. "Premonitions are more my aunt Pheobe's department."
"Premonitions?" Martha asked.
"Yeah. When she touches a person or an object, she can see things. Things that are going to happen, or have already happened. And that's seems to be what happened when I touched Clark."
Jonathan Kent looked skeptical. And worried. "Exactly what did you see?" he asked.
Chris shrugged. "It's hard to describe. I saw stars. And…falling out of the sky?" Chris's frowned. That wasn't exactly right, but it was the best way to describe it. "And I heard that name, which I knew was a name, even though it's not like any name I've ever heard before." He glanced at Clark. "And, considering it felt like a sledgehammer to the back of my skull, I'd say you have pretty strong, and not so happy, feelings about whoever this Jor-El is."
Uneasy glances passed between the Kents, and the tension at the table went up a notch.
"There was other stuff," Chris continued. "A lot of it flashed by too fast for me to really see. But there was this green rock, which just felt…bad, like I didn't want to get near it. And I saw…well, I know it sounds crazy, but it looked like…well, a spaceship."
Martha gasped in distress, one hand covering her mouth. Jonathan glared at Chris, his mouth set in a grim line; but behind his anger was fear. And Clark looked nauseous. In fact, he looked like he was about to take a turn at passing out.
"M-maybe it was just a toy or something," the youngest Kent began. "You said this stuff was flashing by really fast, so maybe…"
"Sorry," Chris interrupted apologetically. "But I know it was real. I felt it. Then, when I looked at you…It wasn't like you looked different or anything. I just knew you were." He studied Clark with piercing, green eyes. "I'm guessing you're not from around here, are you?"
He couldn't have stunned the Kents more if he'd taken out a baseball bat and started to smash their dining room to pieces. And Chris was stunned himself, to tell the truth. With all the things he'd seen, all the beings he'd met, he'd never really given aliens a serious thought. Well, no more than any guy who watched sci-fi movies or read comic books. But, once he thought about it for a second, he figured, Why not? My father's an angel. My mom's a witch. I traveled from the future to stop my brother from becoming a tyrant who rules through fear and intimidation, and I'm now stuck in the wrong dimension. Aliens aren't much stranger than that.
"Look," Chris said, before their stunned silence could become full-blown panic. "I'm guessing you think me knowing what I know is a bad thing. But, really, you don't have to worry." He offered them a small, reassuring smile. "Because I'm not from around here either."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
