Clark had stopped counting the number of times he'd banged his head. He wasn't sure what city this was, but their pool was too short. Each time he reached one end, his body was used to two more strokes before his mind remembered that it wasn't exactly possible. Since he was trying to keep his thought processes shut off, losing himself in the rhythm and the feel of water surrounding him, his mind was almost never in time. At least it didn't hurt. Well, it didn't hurt him, and he didn't think that he'd cracked the pool yet.
Still, it was easy to get tired of it, and he turned to float on his back, looking up at the dimly grey sky. Enough light, even just a bit past midnight, that he was probably in a mid-sized city somewhere. Rather than wait around Guano Central HQ, as he now called it, he'd gone for a run during a free hour, spotted the empty pool, and jumped the fence.
He'd always thought that the reason he was lonely was that he never got the chance to make friends with people. His father had always kept him pretty isolated and his world population was more or less classified as family members or staff. What was stinging now was that he was finally around people, it wasn't that much better. He'd thought that this would be just perfect, not only did he not have to hide anything from them, but a lot of them had abilities like his. But that didn't really make a difference. Like Wally. It was fun to hang around with him but he didn't feel close to him. Like he could talk to Wally about things that bothered him or about how it felt to be one person when he put on his costume and another person when he was in normal clothes, even though you'd think Wally would know what that was like.
He wondered if making friends was kind of like learning a foreign language. It's easy when you're young but by the time you're older, it's hard. Guano Guy didn't have any books about that kind of thing in his big library and none of the books he'd browsed in bookstores or libraries seemed to be written for him. Like they said in big invisible letters, "For human use only."
He couldn't see the stars, since the sky was so overcast. Half the time he looked at them, he wondered if there were answers to all his questions there, and the rest of the time, he wondered if he'd like the answers. It's not like his own species really wanted him. Mom used to say that she thought he was a wonderful gift that they had sent. Or that God knew how much she wanted another child and sent her Clark. That had helped then, when he was just a kid, but not as much now.
Thinking like this was exactly what he didn't want to do. He propelled himself to the side and got out. To dry his clothes, he shook himself for a few seconds and felt the moisture fly away from him. Maybe he'd run again for a bit.
Two minutes later, he decided that his mind was getting even for all the whacking he'd given his head. He found himself standing in the middle of Smallville, in the middle of the night.
It occurred to him that he really should tell the Kents that Lex was okay. Or, well, not okay but not hurt or anything like that. He should have done it earlier, probably, but it's not like he didn't have other things on his mind. It was a bit much for one person to take, the earthquakes and everything about that, seeing the city's organization fall apart like the buildings had, then everything with dad, and with Lex and the League just saying that they'd help, "later." Sure, "Luthors never feel sorry for themselves," but he wasn't a Luthor any more, not really, and he had a lot to feel sorry for himself about.
Since it would be a while before anybody would be awake, he wandered around to kill time. There was something that looked a bit like a carnival grounds and he headed in that direction. Seeing something like that at night, when it was deserted, always felt a bit strange, but in an interesting way. Kind of like after he got his x-ray vision under control and could see the workings of just about anything, except this time, he didn't need to look into something, just at it.
Wondering who would want to win a giant stuffed rabbit with pink fluorescent fur, he looked into the next booth and stopped when he heard something. It sounded like a scuffle and then a loud thud, followed by sounds he couldn't figure out. Running in that direction, he saw a man in a police uniform throwing dirt onto what looked like a grave, which made no sense. He looked into the ground and saw that it was a coffin, but somebody was in it and moving around, at least a bit.
Before the policeman even noticed, Clark was there, grabbed the shovel, and hit him with it before he could even draw his gun. It was only a second's work to dig through the dirt and yank the coffin open.
It's not like was expecting it to be anybody in particular, but if he'd guessed, it certainly wouldn't have been Chloe. She took a shuddering breath, opened her eyes, and sat up. There wasn't much light but it seemed to gather to glow in her skin and hair. Her mouth twisted and a tear snaked down her cheek. Not sure what to do or say, he reached out to brush it away, realizing only as it happened that his dirt-covered hands would leave a mark.
She swallowed hard and tried to say something, then gulped and looked away. After what seemed like far too long, he thought of something to say, an awkward, "It's okay, you're safe, he won't...you're safe."
He couldn't believe it as she burst into loud tears and threw her arms around him. "I'd given up, I was sure I was going to die, and then you came." Realizing that he was leaving great globs of dirt all over her, but sensing that she wouldn't care in the least, he awkwardly patted her back, while the almost strawberry scent of her hair seemed to be the best possible scent in the world.
When she calmed down a bit, as much as he hated to, he asked, "Could I take you home?" She nodded, shakily. "Where do you live?" he asked, helping her up. When she didn't try to detach her hand from his, he squeezed it quickly and kept his hold.
"My car's over there. I'm not sure I can drive, though. Could you, I'll give you directions. Well, you'll probably get lost, from my directions, but I can manage a 'turn at the next corner' kind of thing."
As far as he was concerned, the drive was way too short. He'd have preferred getting lost, a few more moments of her pale, shining face and hair, a few more moments where he met her eyes and she smiled shakily at him.
She didn't even protest when he got out, too, when they reached her house, and he walked her up to the door. "You're sure you'll be okay?"
"Right back to normal." She had to be the bravest girl in the world, he decided. Sure, Diana didn't care much about danger, but then not much could hurt her. So Chloe was definitely the bravest that he'd ever come across. As she unlocked the door, she looked startled. "I didn't even say thank you!" Her nose wrinkled as she looked up at him. "Is being buried alive and then unburied, still alive, a good enough excuse?"
He couldn't think of anything to say so he just smiled, which seemed to be an answer she liked. When she said, almost sounding shy, "Well, now I'll say thanks, Clark, you saved the day."
"You...you remembered my name?"
He could have sworn her smile was almost flirtatious. "Who could forget? Good night."
Just to make sure she was okay, he watched her figure move through the house, make a short phone call, and get into bed. There was another person in there, he noticed, who seemed to stir but settled back down. Just to be sure that she was safe, though, he sat on the porch, occasionally checking inside the house, until the sun rose. Maybe he wasn't so hopeless at making friends after all.
Still, it was easy to get tired of it, and he turned to float on his back, looking up at the dimly grey sky. Enough light, even just a bit past midnight, that he was probably in a mid-sized city somewhere. Rather than wait around Guano Central HQ, as he now called it, he'd gone for a run during a free hour, spotted the empty pool, and jumped the fence.
He'd always thought that the reason he was lonely was that he never got the chance to make friends with people. His father had always kept him pretty isolated and his world population was more or less classified as family members or staff. What was stinging now was that he was finally around people, it wasn't that much better. He'd thought that this would be just perfect, not only did he not have to hide anything from them, but a lot of them had abilities like his. But that didn't really make a difference. Like Wally. It was fun to hang around with him but he didn't feel close to him. Like he could talk to Wally about things that bothered him or about how it felt to be one person when he put on his costume and another person when he was in normal clothes, even though you'd think Wally would know what that was like.
He wondered if making friends was kind of like learning a foreign language. It's easy when you're young but by the time you're older, it's hard. Guano Guy didn't have any books about that kind of thing in his big library and none of the books he'd browsed in bookstores or libraries seemed to be written for him. Like they said in big invisible letters, "For human use only."
He couldn't see the stars, since the sky was so overcast. Half the time he looked at them, he wondered if there were answers to all his questions there, and the rest of the time, he wondered if he'd like the answers. It's not like his own species really wanted him. Mom used to say that she thought he was a wonderful gift that they had sent. Or that God knew how much she wanted another child and sent her Clark. That had helped then, when he was just a kid, but not as much now.
Thinking like this was exactly what he didn't want to do. He propelled himself to the side and got out. To dry his clothes, he shook himself for a few seconds and felt the moisture fly away from him. Maybe he'd run again for a bit.
Two minutes later, he decided that his mind was getting even for all the whacking he'd given his head. He found himself standing in the middle of Smallville, in the middle of the night.
It occurred to him that he really should tell the Kents that Lex was okay. Or, well, not okay but not hurt or anything like that. He should have done it earlier, probably, but it's not like he didn't have other things on his mind. It was a bit much for one person to take, the earthquakes and everything about that, seeing the city's organization fall apart like the buildings had, then everything with dad, and with Lex and the League just saying that they'd help, "later." Sure, "Luthors never feel sorry for themselves," but he wasn't a Luthor any more, not really, and he had a lot to feel sorry for himself about.
Since it would be a while before anybody would be awake, he wandered around to kill time. There was something that looked a bit like a carnival grounds and he headed in that direction. Seeing something like that at night, when it was deserted, always felt a bit strange, but in an interesting way. Kind of like after he got his x-ray vision under control and could see the workings of just about anything, except this time, he didn't need to look into something, just at it.
Wondering who would want to win a giant stuffed rabbit with pink fluorescent fur, he looked into the next booth and stopped when he heard something. It sounded like a scuffle and then a loud thud, followed by sounds he couldn't figure out. Running in that direction, he saw a man in a police uniform throwing dirt onto what looked like a grave, which made no sense. He looked into the ground and saw that it was a coffin, but somebody was in it and moving around, at least a bit.
Before the policeman even noticed, Clark was there, grabbed the shovel, and hit him with it before he could even draw his gun. It was only a second's work to dig through the dirt and yank the coffin open.
It's not like was expecting it to be anybody in particular, but if he'd guessed, it certainly wouldn't have been Chloe. She took a shuddering breath, opened her eyes, and sat up. There wasn't much light but it seemed to gather to glow in her skin and hair. Her mouth twisted and a tear snaked down her cheek. Not sure what to do or say, he reached out to brush it away, realizing only as it happened that his dirt-covered hands would leave a mark.
She swallowed hard and tried to say something, then gulped and looked away. After what seemed like far too long, he thought of something to say, an awkward, "It's okay, you're safe, he won't...you're safe."
He couldn't believe it as she burst into loud tears and threw her arms around him. "I'd given up, I was sure I was going to die, and then you came." Realizing that he was leaving great globs of dirt all over her, but sensing that she wouldn't care in the least, he awkwardly patted her back, while the almost strawberry scent of her hair seemed to be the best possible scent in the world.
When she calmed down a bit, as much as he hated to, he asked, "Could I take you home?" She nodded, shakily. "Where do you live?" he asked, helping her up. When she didn't try to detach her hand from his, he squeezed it quickly and kept his hold.
"My car's over there. I'm not sure I can drive, though. Could you, I'll give you directions. Well, you'll probably get lost, from my directions, but I can manage a 'turn at the next corner' kind of thing."
As far as he was concerned, the drive was way too short. He'd have preferred getting lost, a few more moments of her pale, shining face and hair, a few more moments where he met her eyes and she smiled shakily at him.
She didn't even protest when he got out, too, when they reached her house, and he walked her up to the door. "You're sure you'll be okay?"
"Right back to normal." She had to be the bravest girl in the world, he decided. Sure, Diana didn't care much about danger, but then not much could hurt her. So Chloe was definitely the bravest that he'd ever come across. As she unlocked the door, she looked startled. "I didn't even say thank you!" Her nose wrinkled as she looked up at him. "Is being buried alive and then unburied, still alive, a good enough excuse?"
He couldn't think of anything to say so he just smiled, which seemed to be an answer she liked. When she said, almost sounding shy, "Well, now I'll say thanks, Clark, you saved the day."
"You...you remembered my name?"
He could have sworn her smile was almost flirtatious. "Who could forget? Good night."
Just to make sure she was okay, he watched her figure move through the house, make a short phone call, and get into bed. There was another person in there, he noticed, who seemed to stir but settled back down. Just to be sure that she was safe, though, he sat on the porch, occasionally checking inside the house, until the sun rose. Maybe he wasn't so hopeless at making friends after all.