Chapter 14 – More Forbidden Books

Iceland

Billy Batson stood on a dun-colored beach, boredly watching Wonder Woman and a blonde metahuman female whack each other with sword and shield on the sandy flat surface of the Icelandic coast. It was very cold, and his white cape fluttered in the chilly wind. Wonder Woman was in her full Amazonian war-dress, complete with helmet and greaves, and she looked both very regal and very lethal - of course she didn't feel the cold at all.

The metahuman she was fighting seemed almost as formidable: she was a statuesque Scandinavian woman who called herself Brynhilde and claimed she was a 'daughter of the Aesir,' whatever that was. She looked as tough as Wondy, although her armor was all black chainmail and leather, and her hair was blonde and dressed in some sort of dreadlocks-style. She'd made a name for herself by fighting criminals and terrorists in her homeland, all without official sanction of course, which made her something of a vigilante, just like Batman, Billy thought. She refused to cooperate with the local authorities, and the government of her country had begged the Justice League for help.

"Go and talk to her," Batman had told Wonder Woman. "See if she will listen to you."

"To say what? And, why me?" She retorted with folded arms. "Because I'm a woman?"

"No," Batman replied tersely. "Although it appears she has some things in common with you, doesn't she? She could be a valuable ally to the Justice League. See if you can convince her to at least take an interest." It wasn't exactly a suggestion, his having heard Bats' tone.

However, it seemed this Brynhilde lady wasn't in the mood for a new job, or peaceful dialogue for that matter. Whatever communication Diana made, she replied with a public challenge through a local television station, which went viral worldwide rapidly. She accused Diana of all but being a sell-out for working with the male-dominated League, or something like that, which Billy thought was totally unfair. It wasn't her fault!

"Come and fight me, Wonder Woman," she had sneered. "Prove to me you are still the warrior you claim to be, and not the lapdog of these supermen in your so-called Justice League. I fight for my honor, and the honor of my people! If you wish my acquiescence then you must win it."

Or that was the translation anyway, it had all been in Swedish. But it would have had the same affect no matter what language: getting Diana's hackles up. Diana didn't waste time after that. Personally, Billy thought this Brynhilde chick just wanted to act tough but the next thing he knew, Batman had ordered him to go and referee the duel to take place, although what exactly what he was supposed to do he wasn't sure. 'Make sure no one gets hurt' Batman had ordered - and just how was he supposed to do that, especially where Wonder Woman was involved?

Still, though, he thought it would be an epic fight.

Now, though, he wished he'd brought a chair, and his phone. This 'superwomen's duel' was really boring, just a bunch of repetitive clashing of swords that he could tell, as he watched Diana and the other lady slam sword and shield against each other for what seemed like forever, testing each others' strengths and weaknesses, leaping about. It was nothing like the action in the Titans Against Rome movies, which he really liked. Now there was some real sword fighting action! They should have taken lessons from their fight coordinator.

Billy thought it might be more exciting if the other ladies would join in; Brynhilde had not come alone - there were four other women, also dressed up, whom she called her 'shieldmaidens.' All of them were at least six feet tall, glaring at Diana as if they'd all like to beat on her too. But Diana wasn't to be shown up - she had brought her own entourage of Amazons, among them Lois Lane and a couple of others he didn't know. It looked like Lois would write a juicy story, since she was filming the whole thing. Either side glared at the other, rooting for their respective champion to win. Billy just hoped someone would get the upper hand, and get this all over soon - he had homework to finish.

Diana gritted her teeth as she attempted a side-slash of her xiphos, which her opponent narrowly avoided; she raised her shield in time to avoid having her head split open by Brynhilde's flashing longsword. Her sudden kick thrust Diana backwards, nearly throwing her off her feet, but she regained her balance in time. This Brynhilde was a talented fighter, and her initial assumption that this was just a boastful false meta or a human troll trying to make a name for herself had all but dissipated. Diana wondered where she came from, where she got her training. She was not an Amazon, she was certain, but her skills had proven her nearly the equal of one.

Nearly.

It didn't matter. She hadn't had a proper fight in a long time, and she probably would not for many months in the future, until her baby was born. Clark had not wanted her to fight at all, but that was understandable. She hoped he wasn't sulking at home with Jon. The thought of the two of them, sitting at home waiting for her with matching sulks, didn't exactly fill her with feels.

Brynhilde grinned fiercely. "What is wrong, Amazon?" She taunted Diana, seeing her expression. "I am not the easy target you expected?"

"You fight well," Diana admitted. "But not well enough!"

Diana lunged at Brynhilde, and in a rapid flurry of sword-strokes pushed her back against the jagged row of rocks that protruded at the water's edge. Although the Scandinavian tried, she was unable to regain the offensive - Diana saw to that. A final sword-thrust shattered her opponent's round-shield. Another knocked the longsword from her grip, and everyone watching gasped as Diana's sword hovered an inch from Brynhilde's throat.

"Yield, and I will spare you," Wonder Woman proclaimed. "You fought well, and I do not want to harm you."

"Hah!" Brynhilde spat to the side. "Why should I surrender? So I can take orders from men? Lose my identity?"

Diana glared but she could see in the woman's defiant face something of herself, from years ago. A tinge of disquiet filled her - had she really changed so much? What would the Diana of years ago have thought of her? Was her change such a bad thing, that even another warrior-women would scorn it?

"No," Diana said quietly, forcing herself to focus on her mission. Only Brynhilde could hear her voice. "No one will take your identity from you, least of all me. If you work within the Justice League, you will have many allies, and if you choose not to...I still extend to you my hand in peace. That is the Amazon way."

Diana roved her sword from Brynhilde's throat and sheathed it, replaced it with her outstretched arm. The blonde metahuman stared at it, and her, for a long moment. There was no sound except the surf. Slowly, she stood up, then she bent down to retrieve her fallen sword. For a moment, the observers thought she would resume the fight. Diana just stood there, motionless.

Then, Brynhilde knelt down on one knee.

"I yield, Wonder Woman," Brynhilde said, her sword held horizontal in her palms. "Whatever you wish to have me do, I will accept."

Diana nodded, taking the other woman's arm in the warrior-grip. "Thank you, Brynhilde of the Aesir. I am glad to name you 'sister.'"

The ladies on both sides cheered, seeing that their champions hadn't lost face. Billy Batson sighed. Now maybe he could go home!

United States

Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest

Clark shut off his Internet connection once it was clear the fight was over; he sighed and began putting away his work: a mass of papers, laptop and USB drives scattered on the kitchen table. If past experience was any guide, Diana would be headed straight home rather than debrief at the Watchtower; she would still have adrenalin running through her veins, and she wouldn't be in any mood to talk. In fact, from his past experience, he knew she would also be very, very horny. Something about fighting and being pregnant, especially together, threw her hormones out of control.

Jon was sleeping in his room, and the small cottage was quiet. Being at home all day wasn't as tiresome as he initially feared. He had a lot of material he needed to put in some sort of publishable form, and Lois was still as tight as ever about her deadlines. He had already submitted several articles about the Bakken camp and the subsequent destruction, and he got a lot of good feedback from them. Still, the explosion still remained under investigation - meaning unsolved - although the corporation was alleging worker carelessness, which wasn't Clark's conclusion at all. Still, it bothered him that he was unable to uncover anything more substantial. Bruce had not gotten back to him and that was really frustrating. He was also unable to find out what had happened to his friend, John Henry Irons; all he discovered was that he was alive but still hospitalized, but due to medical privacy laws he couldn't find out where he was. He didn't have his family's contact information so he was unable to call them to find out if they were okay.

To deal with his frustration, Clark had taken up jogging in the woods that surrounded the cottage. He ran at a normal 'human' pace although he thought he could do much faster if he tried. But speed wasn't what he was aiming for. He could see why people retreated to 'nature' whenever they became upset, and he supposed he did the same thing by going to the Fortress, but here there was still people. He saw other similar houses on his runs, and occasionally he glimpsed people outside, although he hadn't (yet) stopped to talk to any of them. For now, he was content just to be at home, although he was sure he would be craving the noise of a Metropolis soon.

Patience, he told himself. I need to let my powers come back on their own, and they are coming back. Still, it was difficult to wait.

Just as Clark expected, Diana arrived home in five minutes after the fight, looking sweaty and grimy and at the same time impossibly gorgeous. She looked quite pleased with herself, and he knew he was right in his prediction.

"Did you see it?" She asked excitedly. "What did you think?"

"Yes, well, it was very, um, epic. Are you all right?"

"Never better!" Diana tossed her sword-belt onto the couch and headed for the kitchen, and the fridge. "I'm happy that we may have a new member for the League. I was worried she wouldn't yield, but I offered her amity and she accepted. She is an excellent fighter, I am sure she will make a great member of the League."

"I wasn't worried about her, to be honest."

Diana finished off the remaining Gatorade she'd found, approached her husband. He touched her belly, which was beginning to swell, felt the soft warmth under his open palm

"You know I would never endanger our child," Diana said, taking Clark's head between her hands, ruffling his black hair. "It is the most precious thing in the world to me."

"I know that, but you know I can't help worrying about you."

"And I know that," Diana sighed. "I'm truly happy that you're back home. Jon is happy too, I can tell. I know it must be difficult for you."

Clark shook his head. "No, it's not difficult for me at all. I promise I won't leave you alone again."

Diana smiled and stepped back; with slow and deliberate movements, she began removing her sand-and-mud splattered armor and corselet. One by one, her garments fell on the floor about her feet, until she stood naked before him. Glorious.

Clark pretended to be perplexed. "What are you doing? You know I'm very busy...can't you see I've got so much to do around the house..."

Diana mock-snarled at him. "I've just come back from battle. You know what I need."

Clark stuttered. "But...I really can't right now...I'm very busy. I have many papers to edit."

Diana growled again, grasping his shirt. She knew Clark was full of BS since he was wearing one of his old and ripped gym T-shirts, one he wouldn't miss if she tore it off his body.

"I'll give you papers to edit! Get in the bedroom, Superman, no more talk!"

That was true enough, Clark thought, he would need his mouth for another type of work...

Afterwards

Clark lay on his back, feeling indeed quite relaxed, just as his wife was, who stretched out luxuriously beside him, a hand playing with the hairs on his chest. Once he had lost most of his powers, he was afraid he would no longer be able to...pleasure Diana adequately, but Diana assured him that was not the case. Still he sometimes felt it was awkward for Diana - she couldn't ride him, her favorite position, as she liked, as the first time she had done she had inadvertently cracked two of his ribs. Clark had laughed it off, but it made Diana nervous and she had resigned herself to simply trying to be as still as possible.

Still, Diana looked as if she had been adequately satisfied; she reached over and grasped his hand.

"You are happy?" She whispered.

"Of course," Clark replied. "Always, when I'm with you." But he knew what she was really asking. He added, "I'll go back to the Watchtower, or the Hall, soon, whatever your prefer."

She kissed his cheek, and started talking about the League. Clark felt as if she'd been waiting to bring it up for some time. She usually wasn't very gossipy, so she must be particularly pleased. He listened silently as she went on about the goings-on with everyone. It didn't seem like anything particularly out of the ordinary was happening. He wondered when she would bring up Bruce, knowing they still hadn't talked since the explosion.

It didn't take very long.

"And Zatanna's still dating Bruce," she added nonchalantly. "Although they've taken care not to be seen together, at work anyway."

"What?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Diana replied nonchalantly, although Clark knew she was relishing the reveal. At heart he knew Diana could be quite a gossip, although he'd never tell her that to her face.

"The question is, how do you know?"

"Well...he didn't make a big announcement. But ever since she moved in with him at the Manor..."

Clark was definitely surprised. "She's...living with him?" He simply couldn't imagine her, or any woman for that matter, moving in with the most paranoid man he knew.

Diana read the expression on his face. "Bizarre, yes? Personally, I am happy for him. She may be just what he needs."

"Maybe," Clark murmured. "But what is she getting out of it?"

"Perhaps she loves him?" Diana looked at him as if he'd said something quite weird. "Doesn't even a man such as Bruce deserve love and happiness?"

"Oh, Diana, that's-"

He was about to voice his doubts as to whether that was even possible, but then he wondered if Diana was maybe right. What was so crazy about the idea? As infuriating as he could be, Bruce Wayne was, he admitted it, still his friend.

"I know what you're thinking," Diana admonished him. "Bruce is a man, just like anyone else. You should talk to him. Let's go see him, together. It's been too long you were away."

Diana rolled against him, and the way she smiled at him reawakened at least a few powers he knew he hadn't lost.

Clark laughed. "Sure. Why not?"

Portland, Oregon

Next Day

The Daily World ran a small office to handle their West Coast operations, a premier site with a view over the Willamette River. Lois Lane used it when she decided commercial real estate in Los Angeles and San Francisco was just too expensive. Lois had asked Clark to meet with her and Clark had thought it was to do with his investigation of Bakken. Diana had come with him, hoping to do a bit of sightseeing and shopping, Jon in tow.

After Lois got in her round of cooing over Jon, she was all business. To Clark's dismay, she wasn't interested in what he'd labored over his typewriter the past week.

"Actually, no," Lois said, surprising and mildly annoying him. "I don't need another Bakken piece right now, we don't want to overwhelm the readership."

"It's not like a new TV series," Clark grumbled. "Since when are we worried about putting out too much news?"

"I get what you're saying, Smallville, but trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"I've heard that before."

Lois pretended not to hear that and handed him an 8X11 envelope. "This is why I asked you to come: we received this at our main Daily World office in Metropolis. But there's another letter inside that's for you, addressed to Mr. Clark Kent."

"Really? Who from?" Clark was surprised. He didn't usually receive any personal mail, especially not lately after he'd been forced to adopt an assumed name.

"Your local library," Lois couldn't help a dig. "What's the matter, Smallville, did you forget to return a book?"

Puzzled, Clark took the large envelope from her. He opened it and saw a regular-sized envelope within postmarked from Smallville, Kansas. The return address was indeed that of its local library, where he had spent so much time as a boy.

"No," he said with seriousness. "I never forgot to return a book."

"Then what's it about?" Lois demanded with her typical nosiness.

"Let me open it first!"

He did so and his eyes widened in total surprise. Diana and Lois exchanged looks.

"It's a letter from Mrs. Oates," he finally said.

"And...who is Mrs. Oates?" Lois demanded. "What's this about?"

"She's, well, she's the town librarian."

"Really?" Lois raised an eyebrow. "So why would the 'town librarian' be writing you? Are you sure you don't owe a lot of late fees?"

Clark quickly read the letter. It didn't take him long, it was brief, taking up only one page of plain stationary:

Dear Clark,

It's Kathy Oates, your favorite librarian! I hope you remember me as well as I remember you! I was very happy to see you again the last time you were in Smallville. I wished you could have stayed longer in our small town, but I understand why you left. It is a shame there are not enough jobs in our town to support a small family! I sincerely you and your pretty wife are doing okay. I haven't heard or seen you on the news lately and I really hope nothing is wrong.

Anyway, I am writing to you because I have an issue I need to talk with you about directly. I remember where you used to work, but I didn't want to use your email. I addressed my letter to your editor, Ms. Lane. I hope you will contact me soon, since it is of a very urgent nature.

Please understand.

Best,

Your old friend, Kathy Oates.

Diana and Lois couldn't help but read over his shoulder. "How very strange," Diana said. "I had no idea she was an old friend of yours."

"But she's not, I mean, she's not really even a family friend," Clark replied, clearly confused. "I never saw her outside the library. I know she went to our church and I think she and Ma were on the same church activities committee for awhile, but it's not like she ever visited at our house or anything like that. She's always been active in Smallville community events and the county fair-"

Lois wasn't interested in Clark's history of small town life. "Ooo…kayyy. So would she ask you to return to Smallville to see her, then?"

"I really don't know."

There was silence for a moment as they all pondered this. "Hm. Then I wonder…" Lois frowned. "Do you think it's possible the police are using her to lure you in?"

"Like a sting? Oh, Lois!" Clark shook his head in disbelief. "I doubt it, she's not the type to be a police informant!"

But Diana seemed to be of the same mind as the journalist, looking concerned.

"Wait, I think Lois could be right," she said slowly. "They could have threatened her into helping them."

Clark sounded slightly irritated. "Who's 'they'?"

"You know, 'they.' I mean…the police."

Clark rolled his eyes. "I hardly think the Orange County Police went to Smallville to intimidate the librarian!"

"I'm serious, Clark! Remember, it's not just the local police, it's also the Feds and even A.R.G.U.S., since you were involved with your uncle and everything that went down from that. I'm sure they still want to find you."

Clark shook his head. "The case was closed, I checked."

"That doesn't mean they haven't stopped looking for you," Lois pointed out. "Or, maybe it's something else altogether, people you've pissed off with your reporting, even from way back."

"It also may not have anything to do with that, either. It could be that this woman that is in trouble," Diana added.

Lois didn't look convinced by that idea. "What kind of trouble could a librarian possibly be in?"

"Well, I won't know until I ask her," Clark said.

Lois and Diana both stared at him. "Then, you are going to see her?" Lois said.

"She did ask me. I need to find out what's going on, if it's really serious and she's in trouble."

Lois scowled. She wasn't sure what to think – her suspicion was that this Oates woman was just some senile old lady needing attention, or it could be a trap of some kind.

"Hold on a minute, let me see if I can find out anything online - has anything been going on in Smallville lately?"

Clark shook his head. "Not that I know of. I haven't been there in over two years, ever since..."

Clark was about to say, the Red House, a memory he didn't care to bring up. It occurred to him that all the strangeness that had afflicted him, and the Justice League, had begun from that.

"Clark, I don't know," Diana said concernedly while Lois turned on her tablet. "I know it's a stretch that it could be A.R.G.U.S. but we can't ignore the fact that you're still a wanted man, don't forget that."

Clark stiffened, waiting for Diana to remind him of his lessened abilities but to his relief Lois spoke first.

"I don't see anything trending about Smallville in the news, not that Smallville usually trends," Lois reported, her fingers tapping rapidly on her tablet's surface. "Nothing unusual. Weather stuff. Oh, wait - it looks like she retired a week or so ago after over thirty years in the job. It made the state news, looks like an nice little writeup. She got a plaque."

"She did?" Clark exclaimed. "Wow. It seems like she's been at the library since forever, she was there when I was a kid. She was always really nice, and helped all the kids with their school projects and everyone liked her..."

"I'm sure she did. I bet she couldn't wait to retire."

"So no problems in Smallville, at least publicly," Diana interjected. "That leaves us with no idea still, as to why Mrs. Oates wants to talk to you."

"Like I said, the best way to find out is go to talk to the source," Clark said matter-of-factly.

"You're not going alone," Diana said firmly, in a tone of voice Clark knew better than to argue with.

"Whatever you find, how about writing that up," Lois suggested. "Some nice home town news, local boy helps out old local lady - a change, anyway, your pieces have been so gloomy lately. It's about time you wrote something optimistic!"

Later...

Clark gave the directions to J'onn J'onzz, who was to accompany him personally back to Smallville and the address, which led to a little well-kept house about five miles south of Smallville itself. J'onn had taken human form, of a middle-aged, white male, a driver; his car had an Uber sticker on the windshield.

Plastic Man's eyes winked out at them from the dash.

"If anyone does try to jump us, they'll be in for one hell of a surprise!" Plas said, his voice coming from the faux-speakers. "Do you really think anyone's gonna try?"

"I don't sense anything unusual," J'onn replied. "But, I'll be watching. Diana is, of course, monitoring from the Watchtower, along with half a dozen others."

"I'm sure this isn't a big deal," Clark shook his head. He was feeling a little silly with all these precautions, and a little weird that he was sitting on a person to travel. "This is a lot of fuss about nothing."

"Perhaps," J'onn said. "But we must never underestimate A.R.G.U.S. "

"Or it could be an alien, in the form of this friend of yours!" Plas added. "Maybe he killed her and took her form and-"

"Let's try to think positive," Clark grumbled.

Clark shook his head as J'onn and Plas started exchanging theories. He really couldn't believe Mrs. Oates was part of any nefarious plot against him, but if she was truly being used, or threatened in any way, he had to help her, somehow, no matter if he was depowered or not. If he couldn't fight whoever was using her, he would make damned sure his friends would take care of them, if that was the situation.

They pulled up the driveway, and Clark saw a Toyota in the driveway. He assumed it was Mrs. Oates' as there were no other cars in the driveway.

"Should I go in with you?" J'onn asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Just wait on the road."

"How're we gonna know if you're in trouble?" Plastic Man asked.

"I'll know," J'onn reassured him. "I am able to sense hostilities. Right now, I don't sense anyone else within miles. I can tell that there is a woman in the house, and she is alone."

"Good," Clark said. "Look, I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll call you when I'm ready to leave. There's nothing to worry about."

"Okay," Plas replied, but he still sounded doubtful.

Clark waited until Plas' car form crunched gravel on the way back out the driveway, although he knew they wouldn't go far. He turned and looked at the house. Just an ordinary place, he was certain this was all some kind of misunderstanding He walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

He didn't wait long. The door opened a few moments later, revealing a middle-aged, slightly overweight nondescript woman, dressed in JC Penny-wear, and her auburn hair tied up in a neat bun.

"Clark!" Mrs. Oates eyes' widened in delight and surprise. "My Lord! I'm so happy to see you!"

Clark returned her smile, but his reporter's eye looked for anything untoward; they exchanged the typical pleasantries, and she invited him inside. It was as if he was making a typical Sunday visit, although he had never been inside her home before. Her home was just as well-kept and tidy as her front yard, decorated typically Mid-American, a few framed Bible verses done in needlepoint were on the walls. There were photos of her and another man on the coffee table, and he assumed it was her late husband. He remembered he must have died at least 20 years ago, fairly young, he'd been killed in a tractor rollover accident - Mrs. Oates had been a widow for some time, everyone knew.

Within minutes, he was on her sofa in the living room, and she was in the kitchen to get some refreshments. She didn't seem particularly put-out or even surprised that he'd just turned up at her house without prior notice despite her letter.

Clark sat and listened patiently as Mrs. Oates bustled around the kitchen getting some pound cake and iced tea, and chatted about the local happenings, the weather. Although he didn't have all his heightened senses, his reporter's intuition alone told him clearly that she was very nervous...perhaps even frightened. He didn't understand why…she couldn't possibly be frightened of him, could she?

Finally, she sat down across from him on the matching recliner, food and glasses on the coffee table between them, smiling awkwardly with a glass of the fresh iced tea in her hand.

"Congratulations on retiring!" Clark said, trying to keep up the small talk. "I never thought you'd leave the library."

"Oh...well..." Mrs. Oates chuckled. "I enjoyed my work, but it was time, I suppose. They have a nice young lady working there, and she's bilingual, which is a big help with all our Mexican families. I thought it was about time...I thought I'd go on a cruise with some ladies from the Rotary .Anyway, that's enough about me - what have you been up to? What about your lovely family?"

Clark smiled, although he was careful not to share too much. "I'm doing well, and Baby Jon's fine, although he's not so much of a baby now! He's almost two! My wife's also expecting a second one."

"Oh my, that's so wonderful for you, Clark!" Mrs. Oates exclaimed delightedly. "I always knew you'd be a good family man…I mean, your ma and pa did really such a wonderful job...we'd wondered, sometimes..."

She went silent and looked down at her glass, an odd expression on her face suddenly. Clark stared at her, puzzled.

"I mean," Mrs. Oates continued in a quieter tone of voice. "We'd wondered….we just wondered how you'd turn out, I mean with...everything that you are," She finally said quietly.

"I…don't understand what you mean."

"I think you do, Clark."

There was a long silence neither of them dared to break for some time.

"You knew." Clark finally said. It wasn't a question.

Mrs. Oates looked up at him, and it seemed as if she'd just gotten something enormous off her chest. "Yes, Clark, I knew. Almost from the beginning, in fact."

Clark sat very still, thinking of all the times he'd been in the Smallville Library, asking her for help for one thing or another. Not once had he ever imagined she knew or even guessed he wasn't human. She never treated him differently...although now, he remembered, sometimes he'd caught her watching him closely, but then he'd thought it was because she thought he was trying to look at the "adult" books.

"Oh, I should also say...I wasn't the only one, heavens no, not the only one in Smallville anyway."

Clark sat back in amazement; his glass of iced tea sat forgotten on the table next to hers. "What? How-how many?"

"Oh, not that many, don't worry. Just a few of us old folks. There was old Mr. Johnson your neighbor, and his wife. Ben Hubbard down the road, may he rest in peace, the old coot. Doc Potter. Reverend Dyer..."

"The minister?" Clark shook his head in astonishment. "Pa never mentioned...how did you find out?"

Mrs. Oates sighed. "You couldn't have been more than three or four at the time. Martha had left her pocketbook in the library, and I thought I'd drop it off on my way home. I was driving up the road to your house, and then I saw...I just about ran off the road! My, my, you were leaping just like a little gazelle! I can still remember the look on your face! You looked like you were having the time of your life! As for me I thought I was going crazy! Then, I could hear your Ma calling after you, trying to catch you. She didn't see me - I had to pull over for awhile, and then I drove home and went straight to bed. I never did return your mother's pocketbook, not that day, anyway, she came in later..."

"You kept a secret for that long! All this time."

"Well, I guess you ought to know, it took some doing. The folks that did know, like I said, not many, we had a meeting at the church, not long after that. That was thanks to Ben, I guess he was the last to really learn. He saw you set your Pa's field on fire. You probably don't remember."

"Oh, I do."

"Well, he originally wanted to report everything to the authorities, although which 'authorities' I'm sure even he wasn't sure. One thing led to another, and we ended up having a meeting, the Reverend set it up in the church. Come to think of it, I don't know how he knew, but he did. Never told me anyway. I remember it clear as day, Ben and Ed arguing, Reverend Dyer just sitting there in the back with that big King James Bible he always carried, quiet. I was with Martha, as you can imagine she was quite upset I could tell, after all they were talking about revealing your secret to the world! Well, she did, to us, how they found you in the wreck of the whatever-it-was. Ben, you know he had just watched one too many Twilight Zone episodes, he was going on about how you were too dangerous to be around 'normal folks.' 'What's he going to be like when he's bigger?' He kept saying. Mrs. Johnson, she usually hardly said anything, even on the Activities Committee which she and I were on at the church but-"

Clark interrupted her rambling speech. "But you never...told anyone, I mean."

Mrs. Oates sighed. "Yes. When it came down to it, it was Ed Johnson and his wife who pointed out that what Ben was proposing would be taking a kid away from the only parents he ever knew, and giving him over to the government, and you know what he thought of that. Doc Potter was there, too...did you know his degree was in veterinary science, not medicine? Anyway, he pointed out the government would just use you as a guinea pig, if they could. That got everyone to thinking. Plus your Pa said they would have to pry you from his cold dead hands before they would give you up."

Mrs. Oates smiled slightly at the memory. "Even after that, Ben still wasn't convinced, then Reverend Dyer managed to bring him 'round, said his only condition was that you attend Sunday School. 'If he is raised with Christian values and is right with the Lord, then he'll be all right for us - remember he is also one of God's children.' He's a good man, it's a shame he's getting so poorly-"

"Yes, I remember going to Sunday School. I had a good time there, that's where I met Lana, and Pete."

The memory of Lana Lang, and what happened to her, still upset him, and he fell silent. Mrs. Oates nodded gently, seeing his face. She patted his knee.

"I know you miss them. You're a good man, Clark. No matter what those people on TV say, like that awful Luthor person! You did us proud. Oh my, it felt good to say all that! To finally say it out loud!"

"Is that why you asked me to come back to Smallville, Mrs. Oates?"

"No, not...exactly. It's about something else."

She wrung her hands a little more, and Clark could see her become upset. "Whatever it is, please tell me. Maybe I could help."

The former librarian groaned miserably. "Oh, I know you want to Clark! Please believe me, I didn't want to involve you in this-this awful business!"

She spoke with such emotion that Clark wondered what it could be, but it was clearly serious.

"What is it? If you're in any trouble..?"

"It's not that kind of trouble," Mrs. Oates replied. "It's about a break-in, at the library, a couple of weeks ago. I discovered it when I re-opened the library after the weekend."

Clark sat back, more than a little perplexed. "A break in?"

"Not the kind that makes the big city news, I'm sure. Well, it didn't make any news at all, since I didn't report it."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Nothing of monetary worth was taken, not even the petty cash I kept in my drawer. All the doors were locked, but I knew someone had broken in when I wasn't there. I know my library."

"Then, how did you know? What exactly's going on?"

There was another a long pause, in which Mrs. Oates looked doubtful of going on, but Clark waited, as patiently as he could.

"I guess I should start at the beginning," She finally said. "It was about a year or so before Doc Potter passed away. You'd already left Smallville then, if I remember correctly. He came driving up to the library in that old jalopy of his, you remember, his Model-T? It was right before closing time. I even remember the weather that day, one of our hot spells. I was surprised to see him, I knew by then he hardly ever left his house, and I wasn't even sure if he was still there, though I do think he did have a hired caregiver from the home care agency and-"

She shook her head at her own distraction. "Never mind. I don't know if you or your family knew, how Doc was in World War II?"

"Smallville legend had it he was in the OSS."

"Yes, in a way. I imagine it was a branch of the OSS, as he explained it to me, but even more secret."

This was another surprising development. He had never heard that Doc Potter ever talked about his war experiences, although people had asked him to speak at the school for Veterans' Day and Memorial Day events but he'd always refused, or so he'd heard. "He actually told you about what he did?"

"Yes. To get my support, you see."

"For what?"

"He asked if I could keep some books for him, in the basement of the library."

Clark waited for her to say more but she was silent again. "That was all?" For a moment he began to wonder again if perhaps the librarian was suffering from her own confusion.

"That was all. I must have sounded like you do, just now. So he told me they weren't just any books. These books were…were different. I guess you could call them occult texts, 'grimoires' was one word he used, I think, but I knew he meant something else. He said they were worse. He described them as something like the supernatural version of a manual to make an atom bomb, books that provided knowledge of...of terrible things."

She wrung her hands again. "Things like…things like what happened at the Red House."

Clark went cold, all over. He stared at her. "You knew about that? You knew?"

"Many people did, Clark," Mrs. Oates looked miserable. "I'm so sorry. I know that was why your left Smallville."

"How did he get involved in all that?" Any thought he had of Mrs. Oates merely suffering from premature dementia had vanished.

Now it was Mrs. Oates' turn to look surprised. "It was his speciality. He was always something of a 'gifted' individual - back in the day he was like, oh, what they call a 'polymath' I suppose. He stood out, in a small town like this! I guess that was why he got that scholarship when he was only 16, for that big school back East, I think it was the Miskatonic University, he'd said. That was where he was recruited for the war, something to do with stopping the Nazis from getting their hands on this evil knowledge. He wasn't very specific, but he said that was where he got those books he had, he said they came straight from Himmler's private library."

"Why did he ask you to keep them in the library, of all places?" Clark asked, astonished.

"That was what I asked too. He said he knew he didn't have long to live. He didn't have any living relatives, least none that anyone knew of. He said the government would go through his belongings when he'd passed on, I guess he thought he still had special 'papers' that were classified or something, and maybe he thought they'd take those books. He'd stopped working for the government, some time in the mid-sixties. I suspect he knew more about the Kennedy assassination than he let on," Mrs. Oates added ominously.

"Why didn't he just destroy them?"

"I asked him that also! He just said he couldn't bring himself to, not after witnessing the Nazis and their big book burnings, before the war. He loved books, I guess even the bad ones. When Doc Potter finally did pass, and I think it was just a month after I'd agreed to help him, he was right - as far as anyone knew, his estate all went to the government. I heard tell from Ben and some others that strangers came and went through his home, in the middle of the night, but I can't vouch as to the truth of that."

Clark focused on what she'd said earlier. "You...said you agreed to take his library?"

The elderly lady nodded, her eyes beginning to water. "Oh, I know everyone in town just thought of him as some old eccentric shut-in, but he was really a wonderful man, and so generous with his help, to the church and other charities around town, including supporting the library and he never asked for or wanted any recognition. So he was ignored. People thought he was one of those rich misers, living in poverty, but in truth he just had his little pension and Social Security. He never asked for help, or favors from others. So when he asked me to help him. I took them and I kept them in the basement, not in the stacks of course. No one else knew they were there, not the Friends of the Library volunteers, not the Mayor, no one."

"But why?" Clark persisted. "Why...I mean, why didn't he give them to some university? Anywhere else?"

"So no one would find them, he'd said. He couldn't imagine any people who would be interested in those...things would ever look for them in a little town like this. They would either go to Miskatonic, or maybe some other place. Why the small town library, which no one hardly ever uses?" Mrs. Oates gave a bitter laugh. "Those people, they don't think people in 'flyover country' can even read!"

There was something missing in this story, Clark thought. She hasn't really told me why she asked me to come here, but she's about to.

"I'm so sorry to dump this onto you, Clark," Mrs. Oates dabbed at her eyes with her tissue. "I just couldn't keep this secret. I didn't know who else to tell."

"What do you mean?"

"The break-in we had at the library. I told you no money was taken. But the books were."

Mrs. Oates had an old-fashioned VCR player by her equally old-fashioned big console TV. The kind Ma and Pa once had, Clark noticed. Next to it was a VHS tape.

"We have a surveillance camera system put in back around 2003, nothing fancy. We couldn't afford anything more with our budget. Most of it is just focused on the exits and the parking lot. But I added a little extra camera in the basement, paid for it myself to record in the dark. I took every precaution, Clark, believe me."

She turned on the equipment and put in the VHS.

"I know it's not the best picture, but I think you'll see…"

Her voice drifted off.

The picture that came up was grainy and black and white, the typical surveillance type video, with a date and timestamp, and no sound. For a minute he saw nothing, no movement. The picture was shot of a basement, and focused on a locked cabinet against a wall.

"I don't see-"

"Wait, Clark. You'll see."

Then, motion. At first it was just a dark shape, moving into picture, but the video blurred, then clarified a bit as it stepped closer to the camera.

The shape was unmistakable. The cowl, the cape. It crossed the basement, to the cabinet, whatever it did was out of the view of the camera, then it moved away. The cabinet looked the same as before. Only a few minutes had elapsed.

For a long while, Clark said nothing, too stunned to even think. Mrs. Oates sat on the sofa, shifting uncomfortably.

"The locker was closed, but I knew it had been tampered with, and when I opened it. I…don't know what it means, or why you're-you're colleague would want such things, or go about it in this manner," she finally said, with a tinge of regret. "He's certainly a strange person, from what I've read in the news. You must know him better, I'm sure."

I thought I did.

"What...how many books did he take? What were they?" Clark's voice was hoarse.

She handed him a folded slip of notebook paper. "A dozen in all. You'll see that the names of the book are quite...strange. I don't know what they mean, myself, but Doc Potter stated they were all dangerous. I never dared to open them myself to find out. I did a little Internet research, just enough to verify what he told me. What I learned...I really didn't want to know more. I suppose they're valuable to somebody. The type of people that would want...I'm sure it's not the desirable kind."

Clark carefully held the piece of paper as if it contained a sliver of Kryptonite. He thought about looking at it then, and decided not to. He put it in the breast pocket of his shirt.

"And Clark…if you do get the books back…just burn them. Please. I tried to convince Doc Potter to do that, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. I should have done it myself, but…I guess I was scared."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was afraid…maybe they wouldn't burn. Couldn't."

A few minutes later...

J'onn J'onzz and Plastic Man received the prearranged phone signal, and they returned to the house, the latter still in his car-form. Just as they pulled up, they saw Clark and a somewhat frumpy older woman standing on the porch. J'onn saw Clark nod to her, and she smiling at him, although her smile was marked by a strange mix of sadness, relief, and regret.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything. You're a good man." J'onn heard Mrs. Oates say.

"It's I who should thank you. Take care, Mrs. Oates, please don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it."

When Clark got into the car, J'onn saw that Clark was okay, and yet, there was something in his face that made J'onn know that whatever had passed between them, it was indeed a grave matter. He didn't appear to want to explain what had transpired in the house or what 'it' was right then, so he drove away slowly and carefully.

As J'onn look into the rearview mirror, he saw the elderly lady still standing on her porch, still watching them drive away. She stood there, still as a statue, until they finally disappeared from sight over the crest of a hill.

To be continued...

[A/N: Thanks for reading everyone! I am planning to pick up the pace a bit in the next subsequent chapters, and we will see more of Joker/Harley and Deathstroke...and the AWOL Dr. Fenderbrake perhaps. As most of you DCEU fans may know, Bruce Wayne has an obsessive personality, and we will see where it will lead him, and Zatanna too. Also, I thought Justice League Dark was very good. Again, please review, if you can, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you didn't enjoy it, well I for one greatly enjoyed taking away a few minutes of your life and the fact that you are now that much closer to the grave !) ]