Chapter 4: CLARK
People always tell me that I make them feel inferior.
I only shrug. That's not my fault that I'm way better than them.
I can still remember times when I thought it was wrong to think that way, but they now seem too far-fetched and faded. I grew out of those days, thank god.
When my mother asked, I said those were a lie, nothing of them held the true essence of who I am.
But when my adoptive mom, the one who was and that will always be more of a parent than my biological one asked, to her I couldn't lie. It was not as easy.
She looked at me with such a pain in her eyes that I wanted so much to remember how it felt like to be held by her, how it felt like to feel. But I couldn't. So I only looked at her back and answered as calmly as I could: "Life."
When I looked in her eyes, the ones that could never tell a lie, I knew what was going to happen and accepted it a moment before it did. She put a note in my hand and walked away.
When Lana came later and asked what I was burning, I couldn't even tell. There was no point knowing.
I sometimes think of the days when everything was better, simpler somehow. I miss them. At other times I hate them. But I am always, always, doomed to remember them. Even when all others have forgotten.
No, this is not true. Lana remembers. I'm sure of that.
When Anna had nightmares we used to sit by her bed every night. If she remembered that we were there at the morning, we both looked at each other and hoped that someday she would get better. As all things are.
And when she didn't — then we had had the morning to ourselves and we could finally celebrate. She was on the road of healing.
But one of those mornings Lana broke down. Something inside her snapped, she said. She couldn't go on anymore. I held her and asked what was wrong even though I already knew. Telling makes everything better, I always told her, and she told me everything.
She told me that she missed her life, her old life, when she still lived. She missed Lex and Chloe because they were her friends, Clark. You've got to understand. That they stood by her when she thought that I didn't care about her, and gave her strength. How can she just forget them? she asked.
"By remembering the greater good, Lana," I answered her, then the same answer I gave anyone when they questioned, prodded or objected. Because only in the name of the greater good, I came to realize even as an infant, the end justifies the means.
She clung to me and whispered, "God, Clark. What have we done to that girl?" and there was so much agony in her voice, so much emptiness. I always knew how much she wanted to have a child of her own, that one day Anna wouldn't be enough. But I always hoped that these days would come later. Much later.
Like never.
"We gave her parents, Lana. We love her, and she knows that."
She didn't say a thing. Maybe she needed to think or it was possible that she already knew that I had felt like her from time to time, but I chose to bury those feelings inside me for the sake of everything else.
People always tell me that I make them feel old.
I only shrug. That's not my fault that I will stay young forever.
Only, what they will never realize is that eternal youth has its own price. To see everyone I love and hate dying before my eyes, and to know that I will never be able to save them. Because I can fight menaces and corruption. Even I cannot fight the angel of death.
I once told Lana that. That I will be alone in the end. That I simply know it.
She didn't know what to say. I don't blame her. Nobody wants to hear of their death.
Sometimes when I look at her I can see how her end will be, and I swear to myself that I will protect her. That it will not happen. She will not be murdered.
I could never see the face of the murderer, only the glint of the knife struck in her belly, and the shouts of horror.
In times like that I truly hate Cassandra.
In fact, the only one I cannot see completely is Anna. But that's OK. Nobody likes to see the death of his loved ones, and I am no exception. Even though I am different in any other aspect.
When I talked to Lex years ago, when I was still young and naïve, he said that we do everything for the ones we love the most, even if our deeds are questionable. Even if one simply knows that the end doesn't justify the means, but he does that nevertheless. Because there is something at stake here — someone's life.
That was probably why I thought that he of all people would understand when I and Cassandra told the world of the prophecy and took Anna from both him and Chloe.
But I was wrong. Like everything else in his life, Lex didn't know how to do anything but to talk.
People always tell me that I'm making them feel nervous.
I only shrug. I can't be held responsible for what they feel, for their fear. If they are not strong enough to stand beside me, they are better off not standing there in the first place, and save me, and them, a lot of trouble.
They tell me I'm overconfident, then. That even if I'm an alien, I should know better than to insult them. I need them, they have always told me, not even once considering that it is in fact the other way around — they need me.
Without me, and the prophecy, the world would not be as it is today. It would be barren, small and primitive. Children wouldn't be able to run in the streets, free, safe. We wouldn't have established the NE (New Embassy) to welcome the newcomers from the Antregon. We wouldn't have known of its existence, even, still thinking that we live alone. That all that matters is us.
I have made all those change. For I am Prometheus. I have stolen the fire of my own kind and gave them to the people of Earth who have never given me anything but a will to hide.
This is my present to them. And my curse.
I can still remember the times when they fought the invasion of the Kryptonians, when they were not as enlightened as they are now regarding the way of my biological parents. They shrieked in horror when the flood arrived, the gift from my mother to help them understand that peace of mind and safety — cost.
And they have paid with freedom.
Not that they know any of this. For now. They think that they got the better end of the stick. This is the way of all human beings, to see only what they want to see, even if the truth lies under their very own noses.
So the Kryptonians have helped me to conquer, taking my rightful place as a God on this land, and brought me and my people peace and prosperity.
They are a blessing.
I am a blessing. And whoever does not understand that is nothing but an idiot from the lower kind. I am a God to my people, and Gods do not have faults.
Only doubts. Sometimes.
"How can you look at yourself in the mirror, Clark?" Chloe once asked me when I found her on our doorstep, bleeding and dripping from water and sweat. Yet despite the angry words I let her in and gave her warm soup and clothes.
She never demanded an answer and I never gave her one. But if she had, I knew that just for this once I would tell her the truth. Because even Superheroes have breaking points.
And the truth is — I simply don't.