Chapter Forty-Seven - Silent All These Years
Lana Lang stood in the ER, the floor of which was now shrouded in mist, looking at the figure before her, who looked just like Gabe Sullivan but was claiming to be an angel.
"So, you're the angel Gabriel?" she asked.
He nodded angelically. "Although I prefer Archangel Gabriel."
"But you look just like Gabe Sullivan," she exclaimed.
"And is this Gabe Sullivan an angel?" asked Gabriel.
"Well, he's never mentioned it," admitted Lana.
"Then I guess I'm not him," said the angel, looking at what looked like Gabe Sullivan's watch impatiently. "We really better get going, you know."
"So, your looking like him is just some weird parallel dimension coincidence?" continued Lana, determined to resolve matters to her satisfaction.
"No," admitted the angel. "I took the look of Gabe Sullivan deliberately - I wanted to look like someone you could trust. I didn't want you to see my true appearance."
"Why?" asked Lana. "Would your archangelic beauty make me go blind?"
"No, it's not that," he responded. "It's just that I've got a secret Lana - people know me as the Archangel Gabriel, but, on occasions such as these, I've also got another identity. This isn't a job for Archangel Gabriel …"
And with that, the angel who looked like Gabe Sullivan ripped open his shirt, followed by the rest of his body to reveal his true self - standing there in black angel robes, with a skull for head, topped by a halo of fire, and, on his back, large wings of black.
"This is a job for the Angel of Death!" he rasped.
"Well, it's not that obvious from the outfit," said Lana critically. "You might just be the Angel of Ugly. Maybe if you put a letter D on your chest…"
"Enough," said the Angel of Death. "You must come with me. Now!"
"But, I thought it was the Grim Reaper who collected you when you died," said Lana, still a tad confused.
"Indeed it is," shouted another skull-headed figure, dressed in black, who suddenly ran in waving a scythe. "Take this, angel of so-called death," he added, as he embedded his scythe into the angel's body.
As the angel fell to the floor, the newly-arrived scythe-wielder turned to Lana. "Actually, Lana, it's just Reaper. Sure, I've been grim in the past, but that was because I'd never met you."
As Lana looked at the Reaper uneasily, the Angel of Death pulled the scythe's blade from his body and got back on his skeletal feet. "Listen, Reaper. This isn't over until the fat lady sings," he started, and then noticed that the ER room was filled with Wagnerian music.
Two skulls and Lana's head turned upwards simultaneously towards the source of the music and saw an army of women warriors flying down towards them on winged steeds. The warriors' leader waved her sword. "We have come to collect the mighty warrior Lana with her unsurpassed martial arts skills. We have set a place for her in Valhall-"
At which point some guy in a suit of armor came skiing through the air out of nowhere and ploughed into her, knocking her off her horse and leaving her to plummet to the ground. The guy then continued skiing downwards, heading straight towards Lana. "I am the Black Racer," he explained, "I have come for -" he started, and then his conversation was cut short as he suddenly smashed into a plank of wood that appeared from out of nowhere.
"Okay if I stick my oar in," said the wielder of the wood. "Sorry, I'm late - I live out in the Styx. Fancy coming for a boat ride, Lana? For you, it's free."
At which point, Charon, for that was his name, was first head-butted by the fallen Valkyrie and then skull-butted by the Grim Reaper and the Angel of Death.
And then things started getting more confusing for Lana as all sorts of other reaper-men and women came, trying to collect her and ferry her off or ride her off or fly her off to different variants of Heaven.
As the battle for Lana Lang's soul got bigger and bigger, Lana tried to ignore it and looked around the room at the doctors still trying to resuscitate her and at The Doctor, stood by his Tardis, looking on. And there, next to The Doctor, she saw somebody she vaguely recognized - a pale girl, about her own age, dressed in black.
The girl waved at her.
Lana walked over to the girl. "Can you see me?" she shouted, so as to be heard over the battle.
The girl nodded.
"Do I know you?" Lana shouted.
"Maybe," shouted back the girl. "I've hung around Smallville a lot. The roads are a great place to pick guys up … and girls for that matter."
"Sorry?" shouted Lana, slightly confused.
"Come on, let's get out of here," shouted the girl. "I'll explain everything then. Promise."
Lana looked back at the carnage going on behind her, with skulls, skis and black robes, not to mention horses, flying everywhere. "Sounds like a good idea," she shouted, "but won't they notice?" Lana pointed at the beings behind her.
"No, they won't notice," shouted the girl. "Not if you're with me."
And so they walked out of the ER and into the nearest elevator. As the elevator doors slammed shut, cutting out the sounds of the battle, Lana decided that now was the time for introductions, followed by some answers.
"I'm Lana, by the way."
The girl smiled. "I know that. To tell the truth I've wanted to meet you for a long time, but couldn't really say anything."
"Hey, I'm really friendly," said Lana reassuringly. "There was no need to be shy."
"Oh it wasn't shyness," explained the girl. "Just that every time I thought I'd get to talk to you that farm boy would show up."
"You mean Clark."
"Is that his name? Can't say I've ever really taken an interest in him. To tell the truth, I find it hard even noticing him - he's totally off my radar."
"Wow, you're in heavy denial," laughed Lana. "You must like him a lot."
"No, I don't Lana. Trust me."
"So, now that you've finally got to meet me is there anything you want to say?"
The girl looked down at the floor. "Yes, one thing. I've been rehearsing this for years but it still comes down to just one word."
"One word?" asked Lana.
The girl looked at Lana, as her fingers nervously fumbled with the ankh hanging around her neck. "Sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Your parents," said the girl. "Sorry for taking your parents away. I know it's part of my job but I still feel guilty. I still haven't forgotten your face that day."
"You took my parents away," said Lana in disbelief, trying to understand what the girl had just said.
"I better explain," said the girl. "In this dimension, as soon as your death was inevitable, you should have found your own way to Heaven. Unfortunately you don't belong to this dimension so a heavenly call went out through all of the other dimensions that you needed to be collected. Unfortunately everybody wants Lana Lang - after all, a Heaven isn't a Heaven without a Lana Lang - so all of these death-collectors from different dimensions turned up for you. Of course, technically they wouldn't have been able to take you - you're not from their dimension, not like me. I'm the only one who can take you."
"And you are…"
"I'm Death," she said, offering Lana her hand to shake. "Glad that I finally got to meet you. Now, are we going up or down?"
Clark wished that he could have stayed behind at the barn to help Dex and to bring Billy Tate to justice but, in order to preserve the timestream, he'd have to leave it to the future that had happened in his past. Clark also wished that the mem-O-random hadn't recorded his saving of Louise (assuming he'd actually managed to save her) - having just found that Zod was his father he didn't want to disappoint him so soon into their relationship. While the mem-O-random took note of Clark's mental wishes and erased the relevant section, Clark found himself outside a familiar farmhouse.
He was home, but four decades too early, and suddenly he felt homesick, lost in his memories of things that hadn't yet happened.
Suddenly he was distracted from his memories , by a man walking up to him and hitting him in the side with the butt of his rifle, and then across the face. Clark tried not to smile as he realized he was meeting his non-biological grandfather for the first time. Grabbing the rifle out of his grandfather's hands, he pushed Hiram softly to the ground and pointed the rifle, that Clark knew he'd never use, at him.
"I don't want any trouble," explained Clark, and then, realizing the truth would be just too unbelievable, continued "I'm just cutting through your field."
"Easy there, son," said his grandfather. " You already got one murder on your hands if you're the one the whole town's looking for."
Clark was amazed that news traveled so fast, but, then again, it was a small town. "I didn't do it," he said, tossing the rifle back to his grandfather. "I'm not a killer. I loved her. I'd never hurt her. You g-- you gotta trust me."
His grandfather got to his feet and held out his hand for Clark to shake.
"I'm Hiram. Hiram Kent."
Clark accepted Hiram's hand and shook it.
Suddenly Clark forget any homesickness. He was home and he was getting to stay with his grandparents. This was no time for homesickness - that would wait until later that night when he returned to Krypton.
In the psych ward on the top floor, Chloe Sullivan was trying to talk herself out of where she'd just managed to talk herself into.
"Yes, I realize I said those things to the nurse, but I was just being uncharacteristically sarcastic under stressful circumstances. I realize that Clark Kent and Lex Luthor and Smallville and Lana Lang don't exist, so will you please let me go."
After a long pause, the psychiatrist listening to Chloe replied. "I'm sure you're alright, Miss Sullivan, but just to make absolutely sure I'd like to keep you under observation for the next 24 hours."
Chloe considered arguing that she had to save numerous Supermen from Ultra Woman but didn't think this would help. "Of course I understand but my friend Lana …"
"Lana?" replied the doctor. "But I thought she didn't exist."
"I'll take over from here, doctor," said a figure in the doorway, flashing a piece of psychic paper at the psychiatrist.
"Yes, doctor," said the psychiatrist, "I'll leave her with you."
And with that he exited, leaving Chloe alone with The Doctor.
"What did you show him?" asked Chloe.
"No idea," replied The Doctor. "That's the beauty of psychic paper."
"And how's Lana?"
"They managed to restart her heart and took her to OR," replied The Doctor. "They did everything they could for her, but …"
"She's dead, isn't she," said Chloe. "I just knew we'd be too late."
"No, she's not dead, Chloe," said The Doctor hesitatingly. "It's just that her brain was starved of oxygen for so long that there's no longer any evidence of mental activity."
"What, you're telling me that Lana's brain-dead? A vegetable?"
"If you want to put it like that," said The Doctor.
"That's how I've put it in the past," said Chloe regretfully, "but I never meant it. And now she's just lying there - an empty shell."
"She's on life-support," The Doctor informed Chloe, "until somebody decides it's time to turn it off."
"And who decides that?" asked Chloe. "Some doctor who doesn't even know Lana?"
"No, Chloe, there's only one person here who can make that decision" replied The Doctor.
Chloe wondered who The Doctor was talking about, and then she realized exactly who he meant.
It was going to be the hardest decision that Chloe Sullivan would ever have to make.
