He had ample opportunity to work at a more prestigious location. Kirsten would have been thrilled to have him on hand for the Newport Group. That would have meant being in much too close proximity with her father, which is one reason Sandy had held firm to his objection. And certainly there were several other firms who would be happy to have Sandy Cohen's impassioned and knowledgeable defense style in their corner. So far, Sandy wasn't biting. He much preferred defending young delinquents without a penny to their names, to the rich riff-raff of Newport Beach and its surroundings.
It was nearly 4:00 when the paperwork for his next case came in. He'd been having a relatively slow day, and his mind was wandering to the waves. It had been an awesome morning. Sandy just wished he could get Seth interested in surfing, or heck, get him away from the Playstation and comic books. Despite his enjoyment of his solitary pursuits, the poor kid had to be lonely. Sandy couldn't remember the last time he'd had a friend over. He wasn't even sure he could name any of Seth's friends. As nice a kid as Seth was, it was a shame he was alone all the time.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Sandy opened case number 53736, and began to read. Like all police reports, Sandy knew this couldn't be the whole story. He hoped the young man in question would allow him to help. Clearly he was meant for better things than juvenile detention. His scores were in the highest percentile range, and it was obvious that with the right encouragement he could really make something of his life. By the time Sandy finished reading the young man's file, he knew this wasn't going to be his usual case.
Choice 1
Kent, Clark Jerome. Age 16. Fighting, property damage in excess of $5,000. Truancy. Clark had run away from home a month ago, leaving his family's farm in Kansas for California. His file was extensive, but apparently nothing had stuck. He was a good kid who'd been caught up in a lot of bad situations. Sandy wondered just how he had gotten himself into this one.
When the guard showed the young man in, Sandy was surprised. Clark was tall and strapping, with wavy black hair, and wide greenish eyes. He looked more like twenty-five than sixteen, but there was something about him that spoke of innocence and youth. It made Sandy believe he really was Seth's age.
It worried him. If Clark had come out to California to seek his fortune as an actor or model, Sandy could easily imagine him in a catalog, or on the screen. But realistically, Sandy knew the chances were more likely the young man would end up trading away his innocence, and sense of self worth. He had just the kind of look that could get him in serious trouble. Sandy remembered how out of place he'd felt arriving in California at sixteen. Sure, he'd fallen in love with the place, but it had taken some adjustment. Berkeley was nothing like the Bronx. A kid from Smallville, Kansas would be completely out of his element.
Clark had only been in California for a day and a half, and already he regretted it. His month in Metropolis was the closest thing to hell he could imagine, except perhaps for being back in Smallville, with his parents mourning the loss of their real child, and Lex - gone.. No matter how good the Red Kryptonite had made him feel, it couldn't make him forget what he's done, not completely. And he just kept making it worse. As if a bag full of cash could solve things. It was only dumb luck, and his own freakish nature that made it possible for him to break into that ATM so easily, and not get caught. Besides making him a little high, and a lot reckless, the red K seemed to make him stupid.
Buying that sports car had been a rush, but it only lasted a little while. It didn't feel right, driving it alone. He'd thought it would take away the empty feeling inside him, but it just made him even more aware of how much he missed Lex.
The new clothes didn't help either. Sure, they made him look like somebody else, but he still felt like the same mix of dorky farm kid and creepy alien inside. Only now he had to add 'murderer' to the mix. Or whatever it was one called it when you were responsible for your mother's miscarriage. Clark figured his new lawyer would know.
This wasn't the first time he'd been arrested, not by far. But this time it was different. This wasn't the Smallville jail, where he might feel uncomfortable, even scared, but he was usually sure he wouldn't be kept long. This was serious business. He had no one on his side, no one who knew he was a good kid. He didn't even have Lex to rely on, this time.
"I'm Sandy Cohen, and you're Clark, right?" Clark nodded, and shook his lawyer's proffered hand. "I've been assigned to represent you. I've read the preliminaries, so just give me a few minutes more to skim the rest of this, and we can get started."
Clark studied the man as he flipped through Clark's file. He was compact, with dark hair and eyebrows that were startling in their thickness. Clark had a flash of amusement, thinking that Lex's father would covet a pair for himself.
"I must admit, this report doesn't make a lot of sense. It says here that you broke into a home, picked up a Mr. Frank Baroli, and threw him through a wall?. Surely you can tell me a more plausible story than this Officer - let's see - Havers has done." Sandy looked expectantly up at Clark, who flushed, unsure how the hell he was going to explain his actions.
He decided to go with the truth, at least as much as he could. "I didn't have a choice. He was going to kill her."
"Who?"
"The guy. Frank. He was going to shoot his girlfriend. I heard him talking about it." Clark shuddered as he remembered the man's angry words. "That little bitch questions me again and she's going to get my gun, and this time it's going to be the one with bullets." Clark couldn't even think about what the man had said next; much less tell it to Mr. Cohen.
"Where were you when you overheard this?"
"In the park across the street."
"You're telling me you were able to hear a man threaten someone from within his own home while you were several hundred yards away? You must have super-hearing, or more likely a listening device."
"Yeah. I like to know what's going on." Clark was perfectly happy to let the man think he had some Sharper Image type gadget that let him listen in on people's conversations. No, that was more Lex's style.
"That still doesn't explain why you thought it was all right to break into the house yourself, instead of calling the police. What the hell were you thinking?" Mr. Cohen asked, with an exasperated tone that reminded Clark of his own father.
"I could tell it was a bad area. I was right there. I didn't think the cops would get there in time." He was glad he'd used his speed to get rid of his bullet-ridden shirt before the cops broke in. That would have been a lot harder to explain.
"You've got some kind of Superhero complex, don't you?" Mr. Cohen asked him. "I see in your file that you've been in the wrong place at the right time for a lot of suspicious activities. You've sure seen a lot of crime for a small town farm boy."
"No, Mr. Cohen. It isn't on purpose, exactly. I just want my friends to be safe. Smallville's pretty nice, but it's got more than its fair share of trouble."
"Like you stepped in on today? Is that why you ran away? Does your father hurt your mother, or you? And you can call me Sandy, if you'd like."
"God, no! My dad's not like that. He hates me now, but for good reason. I left because I'm more trouble than I'm worth. If it weren't for me, my parents would be happy. It's all my fault. My mother... There was supposed to be a baby. Their baby, not some stupid foundling like me." He couldn't go on, thinking about how sad she must be, and his father's last words to him.
"Your mother loves you, and your father wants you to come home."
"Did you talk to them? How do you know?"
"Not personally, no. They've been notified of your whereabouts but they aren't forcing you to come home. I do know they want you there. I'm a parent myself. I've got a sixteen-year-old son, Seth. And I know if he ran away, no matter what he'd done - or thought he'd done - I would rather die myself than lose him."
"He's probably a good kid, though. You wouldn't say that if I were your son. I'm sorry; I can't go home yet. Besides, don't I have to stay here?"
"I hope not. Let me see what I can find out. This really isn't the place for a kid like you." Sandy excused himself for a moment as the guard who had dealt with Clark motioned him over, looking at Clark and shaking his head.
Choice 2
Clark watched as his lawyer spoke at length to the guard, his eyebrows raising higher and higher, until Clark was tempted to laugh. He stopped himself, knowing it was just nervous tension. After a while, Sandy came back to the table, smiling.
"Most of the charges have been dropped. This Frank Boreli apparently has a history of filing false claims, as well as domestic abuse. Besides, I knew his statement didn't make any sense. No kid could do that much damage without some serious wrecking tools."
"Oh, thank God." Clark said, relieved. He didn't correct the lawyer's misperceptions.
"There'll still be a fine, and you're going to have to be released into some sort of guardianship until we can send you home."
"I'm fine, I can take care of myself," Clark told him. There was no way he was going back to Kansas, not after what he'd done. It's not like his dad wanted him there anyway. A month on Red K, and Clark could still remember every word Jonathan had said, and just how much disgust had been in his eyes. He never wanted to see that again.
"Well, I can't just let you go, and as a parent myself, I wouldn't think of sending you back into that hell hole if I had a choice in the matter." Sandy pointed to the jail. "Trust me, you don't want to spend any more time in Juvenile Detention."
"I don't really want to go back there either." Clark admitted. Not that he couldn't handle himself, but the place was creepy. Even the Metropolis lock-up seemed like Mayberry in comparison. Suddenly, Clark was more homesick than he'd been since he left. He didn't think it was just the loss of the ring, either.
"Well, I can't just let you back out on the streets. And no matter what, it'll take a little time to get you back home where you belong. I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you. I know I would be if my son pulled a stunt like that." Sandy frowned at him, the same expression Clark had seen on his own father's face when Clark pulled a dumb move. A minorly dumb move. The last look Jonathan had given him had left Clark chilled, and sent him off on the path that took him to California.
"I'm not going back home. My parents are better off without me. I only ever cause them trouble."
"You know that's not true, Clark," Sandy said. "I talked to them. They love you, and they need you more than ever, now that the farm's in trouble." He told Clark what Jonathan had said, the auction was in a few days; they'd been turned down for another loan. Damn. He hadn't known what was going on with the farm, but he shouldn't have been surprised. That was his fault, too.
The one thing he had been useful for - using his gifts to keep the farm running - he'd stopped doing. Not only had he caused his mother's miscarriage, he'd ruined their whole lives. Destroyed both their pasts and their future.
It was too late for the baby, but maybe it wasn't too late for the farm. No matter how scared he was, Clark was going to have to go home now, to see if he could somehow salvage things. He just couldn't do it yet. He had to pull himself together, somehow.
"Look, why don't you come home with me for tonight?" Sandy suggested. "We've got tons of room, and I'll feel better knowing you're not getting yourself in trouble. You could probably use a decent meal, and a good night's sleep."
Clark didn't know how comfortable he felt with that idea. Sandy was nice, but he probably didn't really want some dumb kid crashing at his home. And it wasn't like Clark could be hurt if he slept outside for a night. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Wouldn't your wife be concerned about her safety?"
"Clark, you were arrested because you saved a woman's life. Admittedly, your methods may have been misguided, but I think we'll risk it. Anyway, scared kids fresh off the Kansas farm are hardly the stuff of nightmares. I think Kirsten can handle it. And I know Seth will be glad to have company more his speed."
"If you're sure... That would be nice." Clark gave in. It was true, he could use a break. He knew he had to go home, but he wasn't quite ready to just run home and face things. Besides, he couldn't explain to Sandy that he didn't need to worry about taking the bus, or getting a flight back.
"Good. Now that that's settled, let's see about getting your stuff back, and getting you out of here. I'll be right back." Sandy went to talk to the guard again, leaving Clark alone with his thoughts. He came back a few minutes later, holding a cumpled paper bag. "I think we're going to have to stop and pick you up some new clothes. These have had it." He held up the button down shirt and jeans Clark had been wearing, both were dirty and torn. "Kirsten always says there's no one tougher on clothes than a teenage boy."
"My mom says that too. I go through clothes really fast. She had to learn to sew when I was a little kid." Clark had a flash of himself at age eight, squirming while his mother pinned a shirt on him. Light blue plaid, she'd bought a bolt of it on sale, and used it for everything. Shirts for him and his father, a nightgown for her, and even curtains for the kitchen. God, he missed her, and missed being so carefree. "But I don't have that much money. Is there a Wal-Mart nearby? They might have something cheap enough. Or a Good Will?"
"Seth's the thrift shop expert. But don't worry about it. We'll stop at a department store. You hang on to your money."
"Thanks, Sandy. I don't suppose you want me coming home with you looking like that. I really would like to get out of the jumpsuit. I promise I'll pay you back, for everything."
"Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'm just glad I can help."
They stopped at a J.C Penney's not far from the Courthouse, where Sandy asked him for his sizes. "I'll just run in for you, if that's okay. Unless you wanted to go in too? I just figured you probably wouldn't." Sandy gestured to the orange jumpsuit.
"No, that's fine. I'll wait here." Sandy nodded, and walked off towards the store. Clark looked into the bag with his old clothes, the evidence of the damage he'd caused to so many lives. He almost couldn't believe he'd worn the stuff.
The wait for Sandy to come back took longer than Clark expected, or maybe he was just tired. They were back on the road by the time he woke up again. He watched the run down houses and cracked parking lots go by, noticing how different they seemed even from Metropolis. Poverty did not look the same all over, but the sense of desperation was universal. He found himself nodding off now and again, listening to the even cadences of Sandy's voice, telling him about life in California, how he'd felt like an alien when he'd first arrived from New York, but one look at a feisty blonde named Kirsten, and Sandy knew he was home. By the time the car pulled into the expensive ocean-side subdivision, Clark knew he was in another world.
"So, this is home." Sandy told him. "Kirsten's still stuck at work, and Seth is probably off somewhere on his skateboard, but they shouldn't be too long. Why don't you take a shower and get changed. I'll call you when dinner's ready." Sandy showed him the pool house, pointing out the bathroom and grabbing a set of towels from the small linen closet.
"This is really beautiful," Clark told him, looking around. It was. He loved the way the setting sun turned the white stucco orange, and colored the water of the pool. It was a lot smaller than Lex's, but it looked warm and inviting anyway. Something about the place made him feel peaceful.
It was the best hot shower he'd had in months, Clark thought. He looked down at his now smooth chest, still surprised not to see the angry raised symbol burned into his skin. It had disappeared when Clark smashed his fist into Frank Boreli's brick wall, shattering the red Kryptonite ring. Being without its affect on him really hadn't changed much. He just felt guiltier, but it's not like he ran home the way he could have.
He was just drying off his hair - remembering to return the temperature back to human normal - when he heard the pool house door swing open, and a voice say "Hey, Clark?". He wrapped the towel around his waist and went to see who it was. "My dad says dinner will be ready in ten... oh my God!"
Funny, that was Clark's exact thought, the first time he saw Seth Cohen. Because Seth was the spitting image of Justin Gaines, the former Smallville High cartoonist turned clairvoyant freak. Justin had gone after Chloe, and then he'd gone after Chloe, and Clark, with just about every implement that could possibly be used as a weapon. Clark had had to block a thrown chainsaw with his body. Justin saw it smash into pieces. Luckily he wasn't in a position to talk about it to anyone who would believe him, having been committed to Belle Reve Asylum shortly thereafter. Therefore, it was highly improbable he was standing in front of Clark in Newport Beach California, wearing a light green T-shirt with a picture of a Pine tree air freshener, and an open-mouthed gape.
"You must be Seth. Sandy told me about you." Clark held out his hand.
"Well, that might not bode well, depending on what he said. But yeah. Wow. You're not at all what I expected. Not that I should have expected anything in particular. Or not. Anyway, hi." Seth got all this out in the span of time it took him to shake Clark's hand, leaving Clark to wonder if maybe he had some sort of super vocal powers, or was just hyperactive. It was oddly endearing.
"He said you were a really cool kid, and that I'd like you." Clark told him, smiling. Seth shook his head, and grinned back.
"Oh, please, dude. My dad said I was cool? I mean I know he hasn't seen 'cool' himself since Brian Wilson was sane, but even he knows I'm a dork extraordinaire. What did he really say?"
Clark laughed. He really did like this kid. "He said you were smart and funny and sweet, and he didn't get why you don't have more friends."
"Because 'smart, funny and sweet' don't get a guy as far in Newport as one would think. God, that makes me sound minty."
"Minty?"
"Never mind. Anyway, you should get dressed. There's really only a small window when whatever Mom picked up will be edible. Just be glad she didn't try and cook."
"I'm sure it will be fine." Nobody cooked as well as his mom, anyway.
"Dude, she'd probably burn the sushi."
"I don't know, that might be good," Clark said. "I tend to like my fish cooked." He picked up the bag with his new clothes, and went back into the bathroom to finish dressing. "I'll be right out."
When Seth led Clark into the main house, his first thought was how much his father would hate it. He was sure it was the height of Southern California decorative fashion, but there was something bland about it. Clark much preferred his family's farmhouse, with its warm woods, to the cold white of this place. For that matter, he liked Lex's mansion more, with its ridiculous imported stones from Scotland. It might just be that all this sun and sea made Clark homesick.
Sandy was in the kitchen, his arm around an attractive blonde when Clark and Seth walked in. "Clark!" Sandy said. "You're looking a lot better, kiddo. Have you met my beautiful babe?"
He kissed her on the cheek, causing Seth to blush and say, "Dad, please. Spare a thought for the young minds here." Clark knew how he felt, remembering similar moments witnessed with his own parents. Secretly, he kind of liked knowing his mom and dad still cared about each other enough to kiss.
"No Sir, I haven't yet." Clark said. "You must be Mrs. Cohen. I'm Clark. I appreciate your allowing me in your home."
"It's nice to meet you, Clark. Call me Kirsten. Sandy told me a little about your situation. He said that woman has you to thank for her safety. That's really very commendable."
"Thank you, Ma'am. Kirsten." Clark tried to explain what had happened. "I just don't like seeing women in danger. My friend Chloe says I've got a hero complex."
"Well, sounds like she's right. Though I don't know what would make a nice young man like you run away in the first place."
Clark didn't know what to say to that, so he just shrugged and changed the subject. "Can I help with dinner? Maybe set the table or something?"
"Way to suck up, Dude." Seth said, jabbing him in the side and laughing. "You're going to make me look bad."
"You could learn a thing or two from Clark, Seth." Sandy countered. "Except for that whole 'running away from home' thing. If you ever pull that kind of stunt I will hunt you down and kill you." He reached out to cuff Seth lightly on the head, then hugged him until Seth squirmed away.
Dinner turned out to be Mexican, carried in from the car by Seth and Sandy, while he and Kirsten set the table. She asked him about Kansas, life on the farm, and high school; putting him quickly at ease. Despite looking nothing like his mother, or any mother he'd known in Smallville for that matter, Kirsten's concern and interest made Clark feel more at home.
"Why don't you guys find something to amuse yourselves," Sandy suggested after they'd eaten. That sounded like a good idea.
"Do you like Playstation?" Seth asked him. He nodded.
They played a few rounds of Grand Theft Auto, Seth winning each time. It made him miss both Pete and Lex, a love for the game being one of their few shared traits. Clark didn't tell Seth that his mother had forbidden him to buy the game himself. He could hear her voice in his head. "We're not encouraging our good son to emulate that sort of behavior." If she only knew.
When Seth noticed Clark yawning a little while later, he started to put away the game, and the bags of junk food he'd brought out for them to snack on while playing. "Dude, it's been a long day for you, hasn't it? I didn't mean to keep you up. I was just having so much fun. I'll go now, and let you sleep."
"Thanks, Seth. Maybe tomorrow we can hang out some more, and you can show me the neighborhood."
"I'd like that." Seth smiled.
Clark slept better than he'd expected, even though the futon was harder than his own bed at home. It sure beat the cot in the jail cell. He woke up to sunlight streaming in, giving him energy. Apparently it had a similar effect on Seth, who came bounding in while Clark was just getting up.
"Dude, you're awake. Excellent. Dad thought maybe you'd like to go surfing before he had to go to work - that's his big thing - and I was hoping I could get you out on a skateboard later. You know, the whole California experience."
"Sounds good. I've never surfed, though. It isn't really big in Kansas." Clark laughed.
"But you've been on a skateboard, right?"
"Yeah, I used to ride all the time."
"Cool!" Seth was thrilled. Sandy was even more thrilled to hear Clark was interested in a surfing lesson. Apparently it really wasn't Seth's thing at all. He preferred to sail, and promised to take Clark out on his Catamaran after the surfing lesson.
Clark had been right. He wasn't very good at surfing, but he could see why people found it exhilarating. Sandy looked good out there on the waves, like he really knew what he was doing. It was pretty cool.
The skating was fun, too. Seth showed him the pier where everyone hung out. It had been a long time since Clark had been on a skateboard. He wasn't even sure where his had gone. Seth's exuberance for the sport was contagious. Clark had changed so much since those days. Watching Seth skate made Clark miss the kid he'd used to be. For a few hours that day, Seth made him forget what Clark had become, and Clark was thankful.
Sandy and Kirsten, Clark and Seth, and Seth's creepy grandfather were sitting down to dinner that night when Clark heard the knock at the door. Sandy's "Oh, I wonder who that could be?" sounded fake to Clark's ears. He was sure it was his dad or mom, or worse, both of them, come to drag him home by the ears like an errant child. Of course he was an errant child, but he didn't like to think of himself that way. It made him feel more like six, than sixteen. Almost seventeen.
He decided against using his X-ray vision to get an early check on who it was. Ignorance could be bliss for a few moments more. He really liked it here in Newport, or at least he liked it at the Cohens. Seth was fun, and dorky in a way that made Clark feel a little cooler. Clark wished he'd had a friend like that in Smallville. Actually, if he let himself think about it further, he could imagine Seth being more than a friend. He was pretty cute, without being a psychopath like Justin. Or whatever Justin was. Lex would probably know the correct term, though Clark doubted the freak part of Justin's make-up would be covered in a textbook.
Seth was certainly a lot easier to decipher than Lex. He wore his heart on the sleeve of his T-shirt. Clark bet he wouldn't have to second-guess Seth all the time. And if it ever came down to Seth finding out his secret, Clark thought it would be because Clark told him, not because Seth or his family had him researched like some kind of science project.
Seth was uncomplicated, and easy-going. Clark wondered why he had such a dorky reputation. Back in Smallville, he would have fit right in. Sure, not with the football jocks, but Clark could easily imagine him working on the Torch with Chloe, or helping Lana with special events at the Talon. And the way he talked about Summer, and followed her around, reminded Clark how he used to be with Lana. Of course if Seth had someone like Lex in his life, someone with whom he had an instant connection, things would be different. Though come to think of it, a young billionaire mogul wouldn't be so far out of Seth's normal worldview. It was finding a bond with someone everyone thought was nothing like you that made such a relationship unusual, and remarkable.
Not that it mattered anymore. Even Clark had to admit Lex was gone. All searches had been called off. The authorities had found nothing. No little black box, no wreckage. And even Helen had had little to say about the whole thing.
Really, it was just something else for which Clark could blame himself. If he hadn't been trying to escape Smallville, and everything he'd done to wreck his life there, and ruin his family, he might have used his powers and been some help on the search. He didn't know how, exactly, but he would have done anything to bring Lex home. Instead he'd run away, and caused problems for people in two different states.
He couldn't be entirely sorry about losing control here in California, though. That guy was bad news, and Clark was glad he wouldn't be bothering his girlfriend anymore. It probably said something weird about him, that even when he was under the influence of Red K, his heroic instincts still kicked in.
Clark didn't have very long to ponder any of this, because Sandy was yelling for him. It was time to face his doom. An angry Jonathan, or a hurt and disappointed Martha.Either way, Clark wasn't going to super-speed to the door.