Chapter 8
Accomplice or Victim?
Clark woke up suddenly, sitting straight up with a gasp. He was lying on the living room couch, and his mother was asleep in a rocker next to the armrest where his head had been laid, his father was leaning back against the couch near his chest, also asleep. It appeared that they had been there for quite a while, which confused him as he last remembered being in Andy's house. His movement awoke his dad, who placed a hand on Martha's nearby knee and awoke her as well.
"Clark! How do you feel?" his mother asked him, elated that he was finally conscious again.
"A little woozy," he admitted, his parents smiled their approval. "Where's Andy?"
"She's upstairs. Clark, do you know what happened? Andy wouldn't tell us the whole story," Martha said, as Jonathan just sat there looking relieved that his son had been saved yet again.
"Well, I was in the loft just listening to the stream with my super-hearing; I find it's really calming, when I heard a gunshot. For some reason, Andy immediately came to mind, I guess it's because of her w—…never mind," he said quickly, not ready to expose Andy's secret yet.
"Clark we know about Andy's wings, she flew you here this morning," Jonathan was finally about to talk again. As he said so, Clark's eyes widened.
"She flew me here? What about Van? How'd she get away?"
"We don't know, we were hoping you would," Jonathan said. His eyes darted towards the stairs where he saw movement—Andy was listening. "Andy, could you come down here for a minute, please?" he called, and Andy knew she'd been discovered. Dang wings, she thought, she'd be much more inconspicuous without them. Even so, she made her way into the living room and sat down at the end of the couch by Clark's feet, her wings still exposed without a sweatshirt concealing them. Did she just hear Clark say, "super-hearing?"
"Yes?" she asked, knowing exactly what they were going to say.
"Andy, I know this is hard for you, but do you know what happened to Van after he…shot Clark," Martha asked the girl.
"Yes," Andy said again, trying to stall.
"What?" all three Kents asked at the same time.
"He's…dead," she said slowly, staring down at the floor. This comment was received by three gasps from the small family sitting before her.
"Andy… how?" Clark asked, not believing what he had just heard.
"I…stabbed him," she said, even more quietly, her voice fading as she said it.
"Well you don't have just some knife lying around your room do you? How did you catch him off guard?" Clark asked, not sure if he was relieved or not. After all, this was the third time Van had come after him with the Kryptonite bullets. Though Van had been a long time enemy of his, the thought of killing him was non-existent when it came to Clark—he wasn't a murderer. Andy simply stood up, and backed slightly. "No, you don't need to tell me, it's OK," Clark said suddenly, hoping he didn't frighten her off with his question. Even if she did kill Van, she still was shy.
As he said this, Andy had brought her fists up to her shoulders, crossing them. Then, with one swift movement, she uncrossed them, bringing them down at her sides as a sharp "zing!" rang through the air. From between each of her fingers, there was a long, thick talon, each sharp as a knife and almost 8 inches long, 6 total. Startled, Martha and Jonathan both jumped slightly, but Clark was accustomed to sights such as this, knowing the knives couldn't hurt him unless they were from his home planet, Krypton.
"Wow, uh, how did you get those?" Clark asked, already knowing the answer after his accidental witness of the car accident.
"Same way as I got my wings—the meteor shower," she replied curtly. Clark felt a surge of guilt, knowing it was his fault she was mutated in this way. "Now it's your turn though, I saw you heal. Did you get your abilities from the meteor shower too?" she asked. Clark realized his secret was out and there was no way of hiding it this time.
"Actually, I caused the meteor shower," he said. His parents would normally have protested, knowing it wasn't his fault that the deadly meteors had come with him to earth, but stayed silent this time, letting him explain his own amazing story. Andy was confused.
"You mean you were the one who caused all that? How?" she asked, not sure if she should believe him.
"I came to earth during that day from my home planet, Krypton, along with the meteor rocks. I'm…an alien," he said.
"How can I be sure? Prove it," Andy said. Expecting a bigger reaction, Clark sighed.
"I'll be right back," he said, getting up from the couch and using his super-speed to run upstairs and grab a clean shirt—all in a matter of one second flat, and sat back down, buttoning up his shirt.
"Wait, where'd that come from?" Andy asked.
"Upstairs," he simply replied, grinning to himself.
"You just ran upstairs?" she asked. He nodded. "Oh, now I get it, you have powers… what else can you do?" she asked again.
"Well, follow me and I'll show you," he said, walking into the kitchen. Andy and his parents followed behind him, all curious as to what he was going to do. He opened the knife drawer and turned around, facing them. With a mischievous grin on his face, he took out a knife and slit his hand. Andy watched in horror—what was his next power; self-mutilation? Mouth agape, she stared at his hand—which wasn't cut. The knife hadn't gone through his skin, though it appeared he had applied pressure to it as he ran it over his palm. She had a hunch, but still was didn't quite understand;
"If you are invulnerable, then why could you get shot?" she asked.
"The bullets were kryptonite," he said. At her confused look, he then added, "That's the real name for the meteor rocks. The green ones cause me physical pain and the red ones….the red ones remove my inhibitions…" She nodded as she understood.
"Also, there's this," he added, grabbing a piece of bread and toasting it with his heat vision. Curious, she took the bread from him, promptly dropped it on the floor as it burned her skin. "My eyes—heat vision," he explained. "I can also see through things, like walls and stuff," he said.
"Wow. This is so cool! Is there anything else?" she asked excitedly, the events of the day temporarily fading away.
"I can hear things that are miles away—that's how I knew your car was at the dam…" he said, then stopping, realizing he was recalling the memory of her mother. He face fell, so to cheer her up, he gently grasped her arm, taking care not to touch her wings, and led her outside. His parents followed once again, knowing he was going to demonstrate his last power to her. He let her and walked over to the truck, and lifted it up over his head. She stood there with her mouth agape once more.
"Super-strength?"
"Yep!" he said, hoping his show would lift her moods again.
Later that day, the Kent family sat at their kitchen table with Andy, whose wings splayed to the sides as she sat in the wooden chair.
"Andy, you don't have any other relatives?" Martha asked concerningly, feeling sorry for the girl.
"None, other than my mother. I never heard much about my dad, but I was only 3 when he died…in the meteor shower," she added, knowing it was a tender subject around here. Clark's face fell, and she felt guilty, though it wasn't really his fault.
"Well, what do you think about staying with us?" Jonathan asked, surprising everyone. He had just figured that since she knew Clark's secret, there was nothing to hide anymore. Why not adopt another child? Plus, she wasn't exactly normal herself; a normal teen around would feel awfully awkward after living with Clark for 14 years.
"I'd love that!" Andy said, and everyone smiled their approval. Clark finally got his wish: he now had a sister, and someone to talk to when his life became especially rough.
"Well, we'll have to figure it all out, but I'm sure it won't be a problem," Martha said. She too was excited, another woman in the house! Living with the guys had been fun, but now she wanted a little company herself. They all knew about Andy's earlier intentions, but both Martha and Jonathan knew that when it came to the loss of a close friend or family member, one's immediate actions couldn't easily be justified.
