Hey, I'll have you know this is a very fast update. For me, that is. ;)
Mega thank you to htbthomas for beta-ing!
Diverse
Part Three: Revelation
Rolling fog tumbled across the tombstones, the full moon peeked out from behind its blanket of clouds and the chilly breeze rustled leaves in the undergrowth, doing an uncanny impression of footsteps snapping twigs. The cemetery was like something out of a typical, predictable old horror flick.
Beside a nameless grave, Clark turned and started to walk away. Martha and Jonathan would be worried about him by now. They were so different from his old family, yet so alike in so many ways. The Boswells had owned a farm, too. Rose had lived in Metropolis once upon a time, Daniel in Gotham. They'd met in New York and ended up in Grandville, for a taste of the country life.
Rose had loved it, whilst Daniel had loathed every second he had to change an old tractor tire, or chase the chickens from the vegetable patch, or feed the cows at some ungodly hour of the morning. But, for a while at least, they'd been happy. It was strange how something going so well could turn to something so horrific in only a couple of years.
Rose had fought, even after the doctors told her the cancer was terminal and spreading fast. She'd battled on bravely for an extra month, two weeks and an hour and a half longer than the doctor had given her to be with her beloved husband and adopted son for just that bit longer. It still wasn't enough.
Clark sighed and looked up at the sky. It was pitch black, like a thick blanket had been thrown over the sun so no light could pierce the fabric of woven stars and clouds. Only the moon cast momentary shadows onto the tombstones when it emerged from the fluffy clouds.
A voice suddenly pierced the silence, and it wasn't Clark's.
"Who's there?" The voice was female, and she sounded wary, even afraid of the man she'd found lurking around the graveyard that had become a second home to her.
Clark span round, surprised, then stepped forward into the moonlight. The statue behind him cast stone wings onto his back, making him appear angelic in the dim light. Lana relaxed a little, letting the flowers in her hands drop to her side.
"Hi." She smiled softly, her breath condensing and fogging the air in front of her. Now she knew better than to expect an answer, so not even waiting this time, she walked briskly over to her parents' grave. She gently, almost reverently, laid the wild flowers on the stone, brushing some excess dirt away as she did so. Kneeling there for long minutes, she let herself become lost in her thoughts and memories, forgetting where she was and that she had company.
"Hi." A soft whisper in her ear brought the world back into focus and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Clark was crouching beside her, well, more like a few metres away, but the point was he'd sought out company without anyone pressuring him into it.
Lana let out a nervous giggle, her heart still beating wildly, and looked back at the grave.
"Hi." She said again, letting a breath out between her teeth. She let the silence settle, contented to become used to each others' company in the noiseless cemetery.
"I don't think you've met my parents." Lana said eventually, gesturing to the gravestone. "This is Laura and Lewis Lang." She glanced up at Clark. "Mom, Dad, this is…"
"Clark Kent," he supplied, and a pleased smile broke out on Lana's face. Now that he was on his own he was starting to open up a lot more.
"As in Martha and Jonathan Kent?" she checked, and received a brief nod. Lana frowned, wondering why she'd never seen Clark around town before, or for that matter, why she hadn't seen Martha or Jonathan for a good six months, at least not for more than a passing 'hello' or 'goodbye.' She didn't press him for details.
Lana cast about for something to say; it was obvious he was no conversation opener. "You must think I'm weird. Conversing with dead people."
She laughed condescendingly at herself, a little embarrassed. Nobody had seen her talking with her parents before, not even Nell; she felt it was a private matter, but somehow she didn't feel that it was wrong to talk to Clark about it. He had a natural trustworthiness about him, like she could tell him the biggest secret in the world and he'd keep it for her.
"You're not weird, Lana. Just lonely." He said in a matter-of-fact way. After all, what did she know about weird?
Lana stared at him, lines creasing her forehead. She hadn't been expecting that answer.
At her look he explained. "I've been there."
His voice was heavy, weighted with memories from the past. Lana didn't know what demons haunted his dreams at night but she felt sure they couldn't compare to hers, losing her parents at only three years old. She couldn't have been more wrong.
Swallowing, she looked back at the stone. Lana stared at it for a few seconds, considering his words and how they'd hit home. It couldn't be true, she had Whitney, and Nell, and all her popular cheerleading friends… She'd won all her cheerleading contests in the past and she would in the future, just like she'd be crowned Homecoming Queen again and again, and again… monotonous, predictable… that was what Nell and her friends and Whitney were… Clark, on the other hand… mysterious, unconventional, intriguing…She shook her head and those thoughts out of her mind, blinking back tears.
"No. You are there." She said, deciding that if he could be blunt, she could too.
There was no reply, and when she looked back up he was nowhere in sight, only the mist swirling where he'd made his exit. There was no sound, only the filtered moonlight flickering on the frostbitten ground. Silently, she stood up, gazing at the place he'd disappeared and leaving Lana to ponder who was truly alone.
---
Piercing green eyes with a purpose soon picked out their target. Chloe watched Clark enter room eight, then, shrugging Pete's arm off of hers, followed with quick, intent steps. She heard Pete call after her but paid him about the same amount of attention as she usually did, zilch.
"Chloe! Chloe what are you doing!" Pete jogged to catch up with her, placing a restraining hand on her arm. Chloe paused for only a split second to pry her friend's fingers off her.
"I'm going to meet the new guy," she stated simply.
Pete rolled his eyes and darted in front of her, blocking her path. "But he's in a different class right now! Mr. Geldner's class!" He threw his hands up in the air for emphasis.
"So?" Chloe said dodging around him and laying her hand on the door handle.
"Sooo," Pete began with exaggerated slowness, dragging out the word as if talking to a five year old. "Mr. Geldner is only the evilest teacher in all of the USA, and he's heading this way!"
Chloe flashed him an unconcerned grin. "I'd better be quick then." With that she darted through the door and out of sight, closing the door smartly in Pete's dumbstruck face.
Glancing around, her sharp eyes quickly picked out the new kid hovering uncertainly by the window, as if wishing he could jump out of said window and disappear forever from the noisy classroom and his raucous fellow pupils forever.
Fixing a friendly smile to her face and taking a deep calming breath, she straightened her skirt and approached him slowly, having already witnessed his reaction to sudden movements and loud noises.
"Hey." She decided to go for casually interested. Just the friendly stranger greeting the new kid. Right.
He still jumped about a mile and backed off from her as if she was a venomous cobra. Not that a venomous cobra could hurt him…
She told her inner voice to shut up and focus. "I'm Chloe Sullivan, editor of the Torch." She didn't bother with trying to shake his hand or anything, she knew from reading the reports what his response to that would be.
He looked at her from nervous eyes, wariness and fear written all over his features, but strangely, Chloe couldn't detect a hint of hostility. The files she'd found described him as potentially dangerous, a reason why the scientists had had to keep him under lock and key with the constant threat of meteor rocks to subdue him, but the Clark she was looking at now didn't seem dangerous at all. In fact, quite the opposite. His long fringe fell into his clear greyish eyes when he backed away from her, and the way he bit his bottom lip nervously was positively cute. Not to mention those sparkling white teeth, tanned complexion and chiseled cheek bones…
Then he spoke in a quiet, low voice. "Do… do you… want something?"
Yes. Dear God yes.
Chloe cleared her throat, jerked herself out of her momentary fantasy which involved Clark and lots of chocolate, and forced a smile. A friendly smile only. Nothing more.
"Um… yes, actually… I do want something from you…"
His eyes instantly clouded, the clear, honest expression darkening to fear and mistrust. In an instant, those words had sent him back to his own private hell, a place nobody could save him from. Nobody could save him from his own memories.
"Clark, I want something else from you today…"
"…Just a test, a new test…"
"…We haven't tried this before so we'll start with a low dosage, and raise the level of meteor rock in the solution as we go along…"
"… Now, don't panic, there's nothing to worry about, this won't hurt…"
"Your name."
"Huh?" Clark snapped back to reality, eyes focusing on the small blond before him. The general noise form the chatter in the background returned.
"What's your name?" Chloe repeated, a little slower this time. She was still staring at him oddly.
"C-Clark. Clark Kent." He spat out quickly, hoping now that she'd got his name she'd leave him alone. He was getting an odd feeling around this girl, for some reason he didn't feel like he had to close up his thoughts, and that was dangerous. It was dangerous to let people know what he was thinking, because knowledge was power, power they'd use over him.
She nodded, oblivious to his split second thought process, and smiled her appreciation and finally turned to leave, but to Clark's surprise he found himself wishing she'd stayed with him longer. As soon as the thought crossed his mind he dismissed it, though apparently Chloe felt the same way. She paused just before the door, glancing back over her shoulder.
"Hey Clark, if you need somewhere to hang out at lunch break, I'm always at The Torch." Without waiting for an answer, and with a smile and a short wave, Chloe ducked out the door, just before Mr. Geldner stormed in, looking as usual, as though the world had done something to mortally offend him.
He bellowed for the class to take their seats and Clark did so hastily, wincing a little at the volume of his voice.
Outside the classroom, Chloe leant her head back on the cool wall, feeling her heart slow from a wild dance around her chest to a sedate beat.
After a while, she opened her eyes and set off down the deserted hallway to her next class, still playing through the scenario in her head.
"Clark Kent." She whispered. For some reason, the words brought a secret smile to her face.
---
Tapping away on her keyboard like a woman possessed, Chloe didn't notice the door swing open with a near-silent 'click.' She was too intent on writing out what she'd found into ordered notes, ready to write the biggest article since five years ago when 'extra-terrestrial life' had been discovered in the first place. No, this story wasn't as huge as that, second time around wasn't so important, but it'd still be the biggest break Chloe would ever get writing for a High school newspaper, and she knew it.
She also knew she was feeling guilty for a reason, and that reason was that she knew, not only from the articles she'd dug up on his life but also meeting Clark Kent that morning, that he was a good person. She didn't want to tear down a good person, but then she'd never been a good judge of character… so perhaps she was wrong about his intentions? What if he was planning an invasion, planning to take over the world, turn humanity over to slavery…? Deep down she knew she was being unrealistic, and so perhaps this inner battle with herself was why she didn't notice someone enter the room so stealthily.
"BOO!" A shout and a hand on her shoulder alerted to the intruder's presence and she leapt out of her seat, heart hammering even more wildly than when she'd met Clark that morning.
"Pete!" Chloe sagged back against the chair, closing her eyes and putting a hand against her chest as if to still her racing heart. Pete, grinning, leaned over and quickly scanned over what was on her screen while her back was turned.
He received a whack on the arm in exchange, as Chloe speedily clicked to a different screen, but it was too late.
Pete's face had drained of colour and he turned his shocked gaze on her.
"Chloe," he choked, "What the HELL was that?" He grasped for the nearest chair and sunk weakly down onto it. Chloe was not pleased.
She took a deep breath, a frown forming on her forehead and began, "I was going to tell you - really I was going to tell you about Clark-"
"What about Clark?" A voice cut in and Chloe and Pete turned as one to see Lana standing in the doorway, a brown paper bag in her hand and a frown on her face.
Chloe sighed, aggravated, and threw her hands up in the air, turning back to her computer and clicking onto what she'd been doing before she'd been interrupted. She closed the program and bought up another, a web-page of information that she could reel off easily to her friends.
"Why not just send the whole school in?" She grumbled as she did so. "It'd be a lot faster and easier than researching all this stuff only to be interrupted and distracted." When she looked back up, Pete was once more reading over her shoulder and Lana had taken his place on the couch with a interestedly curious expression on her face.
"Well?" Lana prompted as if on cue. "Are you going to tell us?"
Chloe sighed sadly and nodded, looking down and biting her lip in a mixture of unwillingness and consternation.
"Ok. If I'm going to do this I'm going to do this properly." She turned her chair around, placing her self at the side so she could look at both Pete and Lana at the same time.
"Clark Kent isn't Clark Kent at all," Chloe began, taking another deep breath. Then she smiled ruefully at Lana's surprised look. "Dramatic opening statement, I know. His real name is, or rather was, Clark Boswell-"
"More like Roswell," Pete chipped in, glancing up from his reading momentarily to lighten the mood and darken Chloe's. She shot him a glare as he hummed the X-Files theme, waving his hands around eerily.
Lana glanced from Chloe to Pete as if searching for an explanation that was not forthcoming.
"As I was saying," Chloe said, loudly, with a pointed look in Pete's direction. He quickly sobered and quieted. "Clark was raised by the Boswells on the very outskirts of Grandville after they-"
"Wait a minute- he's an alien?" Chloe was again interrupted by Lana, whose normally tanned skin had faded to a sickly sort of pale cream in a amazing amount of time. "The Clark Boswell? The Clark Boswell that was supposed to have died years ago?"
"Well, yeah…" Chloe answered. "I talked to him this morning."
Lana stared into space for a few seconds, her face emotionless, then said abruptly. "You talked to him this morning. How long have you known he's a freak?"
"Since yesterday," Chloe said slowly, not sure she liked where Lana was going with this. "And he's not a fr-"
"You knew he's from another planet and yet you actually purposefully went to meet him?" Her voice was rising in pitch as she spoke to Chloe, who was just as shocked at Lana's reaction. Pete finally looked up at the two, pulled away from his reading by their raised voices.
"Is it just me, or did it get cold in here?" He asked, trying to elicit a friendly response with humour. Both girls promptly ignored him and Chloe shook her head in confusion.
"Am I missing something here? Because I distinctly remember you telling me he was hot not so long ago." She told Lana, a sharp, sarcastic edge to her voice.
Lana shook her head, a frown now twisting her otherwise flawless features. She was lost for words at Chloe's comment, knowing that it was one hundred percent accurate and hating herself for it.
"I can't believe you, Chloe!" She snapped eventually, springing to her feet and grabbing her coat as tears threatened to overwhelm her.
Pete and Chloe watched in shocked silence as she stormed from the office, slamming the door uncharacteristically behind her. Chloe looked helplessly to Pete for advice or some form of comfort. Tears were pricking at her own eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Uh… she sounded angry." Pete offered.
At that Chloe gave a dry laugh, eliciting a small embarrassed smile from Pete, but his smile abruptly switched to a frown as her laugh switched to a sob. She shook her head, waving him away as he stepped forward.
"You have… a knack… for understating… things." She said, trying to grin through her tears.
She hated what she was doing to Clark. It was selfish and thoughtless and… and Lana was going to hurt him as well. He didn't deserve that much pain.
She waited somewhat impatiently through Pete's attempts to cheer her up, telling her cheesy jokes and giving her rather clumsy and awkward hugs before he left an hour later at her insistence that she was fine.
The very second the door clicked shut behind him, she hurried back to her computer, bringing up the notes for her expose on Clark. She hesitated for only a few seconds, biting her lip with worry, then resolutely hit the delete button.
Ten minutes later she brought up the Recycle Bin and copied its entire contents back onto her hard drive.
---
Clark's last class of the day with Mr. Geldner had been particularly grueling. Whereas most of his other teachers couldn't help but look in his direction every so often, as if checking to make sure he hadn't sprouted antenna in the time their backs had been turned, Mr. Geldner had purposefully picked on him for practically every question.
He wasn't the only one to notice, either - at the end of class he'd received many looks of sympathy and a couple of pats on the back as the students flooded out into the corridor. Enduring the human contact had been easier than he'd thought possible, though that was about the only good thing that came from having History with a teacher like Mr. Geldner.
Sighing, he shook the incident from his mind, and headed for his locker. Before he could shut the door and lock it, a hand slammed it shut for him with startling speed.
Clark jumped back, following the arm all the way up to its owner's face, the face of Josh Blake, who he'd been unfortunate enough to meet earlier. Apparently the resident school bully hadn't given up on his latest victim.
Blake stepped forward, therefore forcing Clark to step back by his mere presence. As ever, his loyal friends, or more appropriately servants, were at his side, the typical cruel grin on their dumb faces.
The crowd continued to swarm past him, oblivious and uncaring at his situation. Blake stepped to the side, around to the back of Clark, so that Clark had to back up against the locker to avoid touching him. The other two guys stepped in and blocked his escape route as Blake grinned.
"Hey there," he said, almost pleasantly, as if they were chatting over a cup of coffee. When Clark didn't reply he continued, "I don't think we quite finished our… conversation… last time."
One of the bullies cracked his knuckles in a characteristic, menacing bully way. Clark would have laughed if his mind hadn't been frozen with terror from thoughts of days gone by. There was something reminiscent of Daniel Boswell in Josh Blake's threatening stance, the sneer playing around his thin lips, although his breath did not reek of alcohol as Clark's father's usually had. Clark knew though, without any trace of a doubt, that out of school, Blake wouldn't think twice about tossing back a couple of cans of beer.
Still Clark kept his silence, hoping against hope that someone would intervene, somebody, anybody, so that he wouldn't have to live through his nightmare again. He'd been keeping his memories locked up inside of his mind, forcing back the nightmares into his subconscious so that he wouldn't have to face his fear. If someone forced him to go through the same torture again, he didn't know if he could stop the memories from overwhelming him.
"How's about we show you what respect means to us?"
Clark's eyes darted about, looking for help, trying desperately not to make eye contact with his tormentors. Across the room, he saw the girl who'd helped him earlier, Lana Lang, and hope blossomed in his stomach. She would help him, if only he could get her to notice him…
Blake did that for him. Impatient with Clark's silence, he shoved him roughly back against the locker, and the back of Clark's head rattled the metal lockers loudly.
Forced back the image of his father slamming his head against a cupboard door, Clark caught Lana's eye over Blake's shoulder. He was distantly surprised to see she was crying.
Frozen in place, she stared Clark dead in the eye for several seconds. Clark waited, pleading with her silently to say something; they'd stop for her, just like they had earlier. Instead of the fiery compassion for her fellow human being that he'd seen in her eyes only the day before, he was met with a flash of cold disgust, disgust aimed not at the bullies, but at himself.
Clark's blood ran cold, his chest tightened and for an eternal second the face of Lionel Luthor flashed across his mind's eye… cold, indifferent… disgusted at the alien creature he'd captured.
And without so much as a bat of an eyelid, Lana spun on her heel and walked briskly away, not once glancing back at Clark. He watched her until she was out of sight, the hope in the pit of his stomach fading until it was finally extinguished as the crowd obscured her turned back.
He was left to deal with the consequences of her actions alone.
End of Part Three
Wow there wasn't even space for a proper flashback in this chapter. Although Lana did redeem herself. ;)
Well review responses are now not allowed in stories, so if you had any questions or quirky comments I'll reply via the new 'review reply' feature. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, every single one is appreciated. :D
P.S: Isn't quirky such an interesting word? I need to use that word in my story somehow...