Chapter 63 - Calling

Clark tried his best to mostly focus on school that week. But between hearing all about the incident at the plant, seeing the Luthor name shredded in the news even more than it usually was, and having to listen to his friends at school warning him about Lex, he was getting fed up. It didn't help that he had a lot of homework to make up, too, or that Lex was too busy to spend any time with him. On the plus side, he wasn't just busy with the plant; it sounded like there had been some progress with their meteor rock research, though Clark didn't know all of the details yet.

By Friday night, his mind was still buzzing with everything. However exhausted he had been from the week, he still couldn't sleep now. He kept thinking about that accident at the plant and why it might have happened. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Lex's father had been behind it. Of course, Lionel probably had some sort of master plan for making Lex's life miserable—he'd always seemed to, as far as Clark could tell—but that kind of fight wasn't something Clark knew how to help with. His powers were useless against that kind of thing.

It was just before five in the morning when Clark gave up the fight to get to sleep and decided to take a walk around the property instead. He changed into his school clothes and left the house. It was cool out, but he'd never really been able to feel the discomfort that humans did when it came to overly hot or cold weather.

A bright light coming from the storm cellar caught his eye. It grew brighter and dimmer every second or two.

Clark glanced toward the house, then back toward the storm cellar. It must have had something to do with the spaceship. He almost ran into the house to let his parents know what was going on, but he decided at the last moment to check it out for himself first. If there was a problem, this was his fight, not theirs.

For a split second, he hesitated about whether he should go down there at all. Then the door started rattling, as if some sort of wind were coming from inside. It was like it was calling him, in every way.

He had to check it out.

The door of the storm cellar nearly blew off its hinges as Clark made its way in; the wind intensified, blowing his hair back, strong enough that even he had some trouble making his way down the stairs.

His ship was floating.

It was floating, a few feet off the ground.. Glowing, as if illuminated from the inside, and humming, almost buzzing. The light brightened the entire cellar.

And then a firm, male voice said: "Fear not, Kal-El."

The wind was so loud, Clark had to shout to be heard. "Who are you?"

The ship turned so its point faced toward Clark, as if it were addressing him. "I am Jor-El. Your father."

Clark squinted in confusion. "I thought you died!" That was what he'd assumed, anyway, considering the meteor shower.

"I am his memory, his will. I am to fulfill his promise and guide you all the days of your life. You are the last son of Krypton. When you traveled through the cosmos, you carried the hopes and dreams of your people." The ship turned to point toward the ground, and the outer platform of the ship disappeared, leaving only the egg-shaped pod. "They now live through you, Kal-El. It is time."

Clark still hadn't gotten over the fact that his ship was floating and talking to him. "Time for what?"

The pod morphed into a blue, glowing globe—planet Earth. "Time to accept your destiny."

That never sounded good. "I don't know what you have in mind for me, but I—"

"By the setting of the sun Sol, you will return to me. Your destiny will be fulfilled."

Clark had no idea what the thing meant, but he wasn't going to leave behind his family or friends. He turned around to see a glowing projection of Lana and his parents.

"Your thoughts are not a mystery to me, Kal-El. These people have served their purpose. It is time to leave them."

Clark turned back to the ship, which had returned to the gold egg shape. "Please! Everything and everyone I love is here! In Smallville!"

"You must let go of your past. I will guide you to your future."

"No, I don't want your guidance. I want to create my own future."

"You have no choice, Kal-El." The pod spun, faster and faster until it exploded, and a blinding light filled the room.

Clark stepped back, holding his hands up against the brightness of the light.

Then it was over. The spaceship went dim and dropped to the earth, the wind stopped, and everything was silent.

Clark sat out on the front steps of the house as the sun rose on Saturday morning. He knew sleeping would be pointless, and he didn't feel like walking anymore. He had no idea what to do.

Once, he had dreamed of hearing from his biological parents. There was nothing he had wanted more. Now that he had, he just wished he could forget the whole thing had happened.

His dad—his real dad, Jonathan Kent—and his mom found him there a little after the sun rose. "Well, you're up early," his dad said.

"I never went to sleep," Clark said softly.

His mom came to sit beside him. "Clark? What's wrong?"

"I . . . kind of met my biological father last night."

His parents exchanged a look. "H-how?" his dad asked.

"My . . . ship. In the storm cellar. It was floating, and glowing, and . . . when I heard his voice, it was coming from the ship. But it sounded like it was from my own head. He said it was time."

"Said it was time for what?"

"To leave Smallville and fulfill my destiny."

"He said that?" his mom asked.

"I have until sundown today."

His dad frowned. "Or what?"

"I'm not sure. He said I didn't have a choice." He swallowed hard. He had no idea what his biological father could do, but given the strength of Clark's own powers, he didn't want to think about it.

His mom scooted a little closer and put an arm around his shoulders. "Whatever your biological father may have had in mind for you, they're his hopes and dreams, not yours."

"Clark, you choose your own destiny," his dad said. "Nobody can decide that for you, son."

"I'm worried, though." Clark shifted his weight. "He says I don't have a choice. What's he going to do if I try to back out?"

"I'm not sure what he can do. He's not . . ." His dad grimaced. "He's . . ."

"In the ship?" his mom tried. "In your head?"

"He's not . . . real, exactly," his dad said.

Somehow that wasn't comforting to Clark, considering what his space ship had been doing. "I don't know. I don't understand the science of all of this, and I don't know where to start."

"Ah . . ." His father took a deep breath. "Neither do I, son. Um . . . have you . . ." He looked down.

Clark grimaced. He could tell that whatever his dad wanted to say was difficult for him to get out.

"Have you considered talking to Lex about this?"

Clark's jaw dropped, and his mom gasped. That had been the last think Clark would have expected him to suggest.

"I don't mean his team of scientists. I just mean . . ." His brow furrowed. "He has a background in science and engineering, he might be able to figure out what's going on here."

"Really?"

"He's very bright and takes a very . . . logical approach. If you don't feel comfortable sharing it with him, though—"

"No, I mean, I'm fine with it. I wouldn't expect you to suggest it."

His father shook his head. "Son, I won't lie to you and tell you I'm completely comfortable with all of this, but I wouldn't expect you to keep it from him. He knows everything else, doesn't he?"

"Well, yeah."

"And there are some pretty major advantages to having him on your side. I think it's best we make use of them."

Clark almost wanted to throw his arms around his father.

"We're still going to talk about this as a family, and I expect you to keep us in the loop, but . . . Lex might be a place to start."

"Okay, Dad." Clark grinned.

A few hours later, Clark and Lex stood in the storm cellar together, looking at the ship.

"It was floating?" Lex asked for the second time.

"Yeah. And glowing, and talking to me . . ."

"No, I believe you, just . . ." Lex paced toward the ship, looking it over. "What do you think caused it?"

"I have no idea."

"You didn't do anything weird this week? Something in the caves, maybe?"

"Not that I can think of." He squinted at the ship. "Maybe it's my real birthday."

"Happy birthday." Lex smirked. "What did the voice tell you, exactly?"

"To return to him by the end of the day."

"Return to him? What does that mean?"

"Um . . ."

"Did he give you a location? Some specific instructions."

"I guess not . . ."

"Then how's he expecting you to meet his demands?"

"I, uh, I guess I was just going to walk back down to the ship tonight?"

"And do what? Watch it float again?"

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you take a look at the ship? See if it might be able to hurt anyone or something?"

Lex knelt down for a closer look. "My background is in biomedical engineering, Clark. But even if it were in . . . mechanics, or electrical, or aerospace . . . this is alien technology."

Clark sighed. He should have known there was nothing Lex could do to help.

Lex stood up to face Clark. "You want me to keep the ship in the safe room?"

"The one with meteor rocks in the walls?"

"I added traces of lead, too, just in case. You said you heard the voice in your head?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, somehow, this thing is sending you a signal. That room might be able to block it until we can figure out what's going on, which would protect anyone else."

He never would have thought of that. His dad had made the right call. "I'd really appreciate that, Lex."

"Wish I could do more." He clapped Clark on the shoulder. "We'll figure this out, it's gonna be alright. Get your dad to bring the truck around?"

"On it," Clark said, and he headed out of the cellar.

A/N: A quick reply to Iodine Compress, since you're a guest and I can't PM you.

The interesting thing is that all of Jonathan's crimes you listed are straight out of canon. Vilifying Lex was unfair and prejudiced (and I don't make excuses for him—it really destroyed any respect I might have had for canon Jonathan), but the rest were largely him trying to make the best of impossible circumstances. And Clark's a heck of a lot more scared of losing his relationship with his father than of any punishment his parents could deliver.

Jonathan'll keep learning. The learning will be painful at times. But as a writer, I like to redeem.