Early update? Gasp! Yes. Three impossible things have happened.
The Cubs won the World Series.
Young Justice got a season 3.
And a salty cheeto puff became president.
My faith in humanity has whiplash.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Holding Out for a Hero
"I'm sorry about dragging you away from your families and friends today," Maggie Sawyer began. "But with yesterday's events, I didn't feel this could wait until Monday."
All the members of the Special Crimes Unit (now a round twelve) were gathered in the meeting room across the hall from Maggie's office. It was one of the old courtrooms that hadn't been completely gutted, so the wooden audience benches still remained, the backs and seats polished smooth from years of people sitting in them. The judge's stand also remained at the head of the room underneath the city seal, though it had been repurposed into a TV stand.
Other than Turpin, Colletta, and Detective Jones, there was Captain Aaron Jase, a twenty-year veteran. In a system that required accountability in order to function the way it was intended, Captain Jase was there to demand it from Maggie. His primary function was to override Maggie's authority if necessary, such as if a case had gotten to her head and she started demanding more revenge than justice. Since Maggie was a level-headed woman who wasn't in the habit of letting her heart rule her head, Captain Jase's duties largely consisted of maintaining the SCU's discipline and case records. He had never had to forcibly take command from her.
Sergeant Lupe Teresa Leocadio-Escudero was third in command behind Turpin and she had been a member of the SCU for a little longer than Maggie. Formerly a Watch commander, she was responsible for coordinating the troops from headquarters.
Leslie "Lee" Marzan and Greg Pittarese had both been beat cops in the theft division when they had first come to the SCU, but Maggie had promoted them to detective as soon as the transfer paperwork went through. They weren't talented stand-outs, but they both displayed a solid, admireable work ethic and an unwavering loyalty to their badges. They were the typical bickering pair of short and squat versus tall and thin. Pittarese was built like a cannon ball while Marzan was whipcord thin.
Sergeant Midge Kesel was generally considered 'fourth in command', though she had no official ranking as such. She had been part of Narcotics before her transfer and had a prolific record of solved cases.
Lyle Beedler had come to them out of Forensics, after a stranger case had demanded his expertise. He specialized in digital forensics and was their all-around techie by default.
Previously a beat cop out of Operations, Officer Corey Mills had training in heavy weaponry and was also a member of SWAT. He filled in the 'recklessly overconfident' requirement of any small group.
"Before we begin, I'd like to take a moment to properly welcome and introduce you to Detective James Gordon, our first addition to the department in over a year." Maggie said, gesturing to the detective in question. Gordon waved a hand in acknowledgement. "He joins us from Homicide and that will be his speciality while he is with us."
The response was warm if full of sniggers of muffled laughter. Their lieutenant's ongoing campaign to recruit the aforementioned detective had been no secret. To see that she had finally gotten him amused them greatly.
Now it was just a matter of keeping him.
"Onto business." Maggie declared, changing her posture to an authoritative one. "At ten-thirty Friday morning, we received about forty 9-1-1 calls all saying the same thing. The Labrr-- How do you even pronounce that, 'La-birr'? Anyways, the Labrr super-store in Highville was attacked in what the rest of the force is calling a terrorist threat. This is what happened."
She turned to the television and clicked the remote at it, bringing up high-quality footage from the store's digital security cameras. The image showed the familiar profile of their colleague, Colletta, on her phone, and Lois Lane when part of the ceiling suddenly caved in. Then Herniated-Shoulders was standing there in his blue unitard and red vinyl cape. Maggie paused the playback.
"This man is so far unidentified. We're not getting any matches back on face rec and he didn't leave any DNA at the crime scenes. If anyone recognizes his face or his shoulders, please speak up now."
No one did.
Maggie unpaused the video.
They watched the spectacle play out in full, captured from most angles by the security cameras. Herniated-Shoulders made his attack and then Superman arrived to get thrown across the store. Everyone but Colletta and Maggie winced when the digital version of the young cop started emptying the clip of her gun on the two attackers and nothing happened. They all winced again when Herniated Shoulders finally took off through the ceiling, smiled when Superman and Lois Lane shook hands, and the video ended in a blank gray screen.
"And there you have it. As you can imagine, they called Code Veitch on this one, so it's in our court." Maggie said. "You can read Officer Kanigher's full report. It's the unedited version, so it's mostly all swearing and no punctuation, but it re-tells the event well enough. I believe Miss Lane also posted another point of view on her blog this morning, but I haven't had the chance to read the entry."
She wound the security footage back up to the point when Superman and Herniated Shoulders were briefly slugging it out, and then paused the playback again.
"You can see Superman here. We've already confirmed his flight ability, but it looks like we're adding super-strength, invulnerability, and some sort of heat vision ability to the list." the lieutenant went on. "Like Superman, this second individual is strong, flight-capable, and as Officer Kanigher proved, likewise immune to bullets. We can assume that extends to most, if not all forms of bodily harm. In all likelihood, we are dealing with a F.I.S.S. In metahuman vernacular, that stands for flight, invulnerability, speed, strength, which historically, has been a common arrangement of powers. The other acceptable term is 'Flying Brick', but please use 'F.I.S.S.' on any official reports."
Detective Pittarese raised a hand. "Is Superman a F.I.S.S. too?" he asked.
"Not with that heat vision." Colletta said.
Maggie nodded. "As far as I've been able to tell, a F.I.S.S. generally never displayed any additional powers. In Superman's case, we may be looking at a mixed bag." she said. "Our F.I.S.S., however, is the one we're concerned with, regardless of what you might hear from upstairs."
The various members of the SCU exchanged looks, with Turpin's being the most severe by default. Gordon nodded to himself as he took notes and Detective Jones looked about as serene and unmovable as a Buddha statue.
"He attacked a total of six stores across Metropolis, starting in Highville. Then one on St. Martin's Island, two in Midtown, one in Hamstead, and the final one in Oaktown. No deaths, fortunately, but still plenty of injuries. Chopper surveillance lost him over Lake Superior. Superman also appeared in three more stores to fight the F.I.S.S., which certainly helped reduce the chances of loss of life."
There was a vague patter of applause that lasted only a second.
"Given his choice of attire and general appearance, we are given reason to believe that this F.I.S.S. was intending to have been mistaken for Superman." Maggie said, making sure she had the attention of her people when she spoke, because this was the most important part. "All things considered, the profilers have theorized that the F.I.S.S. was trying to discredit Superman before he gained a positive reputation."
"But that doesn't make any sense." Sergeant Kesel shook her head. "If there's no reputation to destroy, then what's the point?"
"Schrödinger's reputation." Turpin grunted, his brows drawn inwards thoughtfully. "Two weeks out and Superman the concept is gaining upwards momentum. Someone did an online poll already and let me tell you, the 'want' outweighed 'do not want' by a good two thousand votes. There's still a lot of potential for what he could become and someone doesn't want it to be good."
"Thank you, Dan." Maggie nodded.
"Vigilantism is illegal in our county." Officer Mills pointed out.
"Yes, but this was not the behavior of a vigilante." Detective Jones said, ceasing to look so serene. "Superman's actions are technically protected under the good Samaritan laws, as well as under Article Three One India Zulu Five in the Superhero Code of Conduct. That one protected superheroes from legal prosecution without just cause. The Code of Conduct has not been repealed."
"But the good Samaritan laws--" Officer Mills started, looking a bit frustrated, since he knew those laws well enough.
"Are a bit fuzzy in this state." Maggie interrupted before he could really start complaining. "I agree that they're a little convoluted, but I imagine Detective Jones double-checked them."
She glanced at the detective questioningly.
"I did." The black man nodded. "Superman is protected by Duty to Act, since we cannot prove his employment. He could very well be an EMT or a law enforcement official. If he is not, then he is still protected under the Code of Conduct. Alias, costume, visibility, altruistic intentions. He fits the immediate requirements to be classed as a provisionary hero."
"Thank you." Maggie nodded, appreciative of his thorough research. "Let's focus on our F.I.S.S., who was actively endangering lives. As the Special Crimes Unit, it's our duty to bring him in--"
"Lieutenant! That's crazy!"
"Who told you that nonsense?"
"What are you talking about? We can't! We literally can't!"
"Yeah! There's still only twelve of us! We don't have the numbers!"
"I'm aware!" the lieutenant shouted, to get control of the room back. "I'm aware of our laughably small numbers and lack of equipment, but this is our primary duty. It's literally in the job description. The SCU was a police-level extension of the D.E.O. before being absorbed into Met P.D. back in eighty-nine. You all knew this coming in. Don't get cold feet just because it's real now."
A disgruntled and mostly unintelligible grumble rolled across the room and back again. From what little Maggie understood of it, her people were complaining that lassoing metahumans was not what they had signed up for. But that it was in the SCU's handbook and they were required to read that from cover to cover and get quizzed over it before she let them out into the field. They knew what was expected of them.
They just didn't like it.
"Now come on, folks, the lieutenant's right. It's what we do." Captain Jase decided to step in and apply some of his own authority. "I came onto the force just as the Scare was kicking in to top gear. Trust me, you don't want nasty metas running loose to wreak chaos over an urban center like Metropolis. The sooner we catch this bastard, the safer our city will be."
"And how are we even supposed to catch him?" Turpin asked, the all-important question. "The handbook has procedures listed, but there's no descriptions. We don't have the training even if we knew what to do. We don't have the equipment. We don't even have enough members to meet the minimum fifteen-person task force. Only eight of us-- well, ten, I guess -- go out on call."
"I'm aware." Maggie repeated, more flatly this time. Lyle had no training in the physical aspect of police work; he helped Sergeant Escudero coordinate from the monitor room. Likewise, Captain Jase stayed indoors and provided feedback when the folks upstairs asked for updates.
Even with the additions of Detective Gordon and former agent Steve Trevor (his paperwork was stamped and filed; he would come in as an Officer First Grade. It was just a matter of waiting out his time in protection), they still couldn't form even one team of fifteen field operatives and still have someone watching their butts from the cameras. The procedures had been written with the expectation that the SCU would employ upwards two hundred people. And at the height of the Scare, there had been close to two hundred and fifty people.
Since the collapse of the D.E.O., it was just a miracle that the SCU had been absorbed into the police department at all.
"Not to mention we're overworked as it is." Sergeant Escudero added, crossing her arms. "Throwing metas onto our list of problems? ¡Maldita sea! We'd be dead within an hour!"
"Damn straight." Detective Marzan agreed.
"Amen." Detective Pittarese muttered, to a murmur of agreement.
"Then we'll just have to improvise." Maggie told them.
"Admirable, but foolish." called out a voice from the doorway that had everyone turning around to see who the speaker was. Leaning on the frame with all the weight of a statue and the presence of a thunderstorm was a heavily built black woman who looked at the SCU with an expression like she was about to become either their best friend or their worst enemy.
"Can I help you...?" Maggie asked, leaving the question hanging for the woman to fill in her name.
"Amanda Waller." the woman replied, beginning her queenly stride down the center aisle. "I am the director of Bureau 39, an organization I believe you've become well acquainted with in recent weeks, Lieutenant Sawyer."
"Unfortunately." Maggie tried not to roll her eyes. "But I was under the impression the man in charge was Agent Jason Trask."
"His position with our organization has been terminated." Waller informed them. "While the circumstances are classified in the interest of internal security, I am permitted to tell you that he made a very large mistake."
"Then we've seen the last of that bastard?" Turpin asked hopefully.
"Yes." Waller nodded. Her eyes roved through the entire staff of the SCU, looking at each one of them like she was evaluating their skills and potential on the spot. Her face gave away nothing of what she was thinking, which was a little unnerving.
Then she finally turned back to Maggie.
"Lieutenant Sawyer, I apologize on the behalf of the government of the United States for Trask's rude imposition on your already over-taxed organization." Waller said politely, even though the underlying tone suggested she really didn't think that much of them either. "In the spirit of a new beginning, I would like to formally extend a helping hand. Bureau 39 has procedures for apprehending metahumans, ones that were originally developed out of the D.E.O.'s. I am willing to offer time and training in order for you to successfully capture Trask's Prometheus, a.k.a. Superman."
Maggie just held in a frown. "We're not after Superman. We're after a F.I.S.S. who endangered countless lives yesterday and may threaten many more in the near future if the situation isn't handled promptly. I will, however, not turn down that offer."
Waller's expression flickered just slightly. "Lieutenant Sawyer, if I may stress your priorities..."
"No, the lieutenant's priorities are very much in order." Captain Jase stood up to be better seen over the heads of his colleagues. "Director Waller, this F.I.S.S. is a far greater danger than Superman at the present time. He actively and knowingly endangered lives while Superman protected them. This F.I.S.S. is our first and, for the moment, our only priority."
Waller's lips thinned. "I don't believe we are acquainted. You would be who?"
"Aaron Jase, Captain." he said. Then to clarify, he added: "I am not the commander of the SCU. My position is strictly supervisory.
"Now if Superman about-faces and starts attacking people, we'll reconsider the idea that he is dangerous, but we have not come to that point. If it's all the same to you, we'll deal with the more immediate problem."
"Likewise," Detective Jones began, sitting up a little so he was more visible. "Superman can be classified as a provisionary hero which protects him from any immediate retaliatation regardless of your position in the government, Director Waller."
"There is no paperwork on file." Waller pointed out.
"There is nowhere for the paperwork to be turned in, much less any in existence." Detective Jones said calmly. "If you wish for Superman to be above the board in a manner you are accustomed to, then you may present him with the appropriate forms." He shook his head. "But I do not think it should be necessary for someone to fill out in triplicate a twenty-page form in order to considered a superhero."
"Our government made it clear over ninety years ago that metahumans could not run around as they pleased and that heroes must be regulated and held accountable." Waller said evenly. "If you would like to challenge the government's position on the matter, you may do so, but I couldn't guarantee you a win. The last time anyone tried, hundreds were dead by the end of it."
Maggie winced slightly. That wasn't exactly something to bring up in any civilized setting.
"Say, have you spoken to Sofia Gigante lately?" Gordon asked.
The words were loud and fearless; he wanted Waller to hear them. Everyone around the detective went "oooh!" like they had just heard a really good burn, thumping Gordon on the shoulder and soliciting high-fives and fist-bumps.
"Detective!" Maggie hissed reprimandingly and he did cringe, but he didn't look chastised.
Gordon had submitted an official report alongside Colletta's to provide a second point of view for the events surrounding Superman's very first appearance two weeks earlier. This had also included the run-up to the encounter with Sofia, a summary of his interview with Lois (her name had been blacked out) and thus included the confirmation that Trask was working with the mafia queen in some capacity.
What he was basically asking Waller was if she was also contact with the mafia queen, intending to pick up where Trask had left off. That was not the note Maggie wanted to start this off on. Not if Waller was willing to be much more cooperative than her predecessor.
Waller blinked slowly, her expression giving a troublesome flicker into something that looked like anger, but it smoothed over so quickly they couldn't tell for certain.
"Whatever illegal ventures my predecessor was involved in, I assure that I now have nothing to do with them." she said. "I am beginning a systematic overhaul of Bureau 39. I expect it to take until the end of the year. Until that time, many of the staff will be off their regular assignments. I have considered lending them to you, pending the approval of your commanders."
"Well, I'm for it, though I do have misgivings." Captain Jase said. "Director Waller, thank you for your input. We'll think seriously about your offer and try to give you an answer before this time next week. But please understand we had a very hostile and antagonistic relationship with your predecessor, so forgive us if we seem wary of your offer."
Waller nodded. "I hope to hear back from you soon." she said. "I can still be contacted as the same number."
She departed as quietly as she had initially arrived, leaving the SCU to regard her exit with a mixture of concern and suspicion.
"So..." Officer Mills started. "Trask is no longer part of the government."
"Yes." Detective Jones nodded.
"And if I were to accidentally shoot him in the dick..."
"Accidental discharge happens." Colletta commented, nodding to the idea.
"As long as enough eyewitnesses claim that Officer Mills dropped the gun and it went off on its own." Turpin added.
"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it." Maggie said, smiling all the same. "Now I'd like to get back to Dan's earlier point that someone is trying to pre-emptively wreck Superman's nascent reputation. If you weren't watching the news last night, then you missed out on some real bullshit. Lyle, if you could."
Lyle pulled up another video onto the laptop and it appeared on the larger television screen (since the computer was hooked up to it). Before Maggie even hit play, they all saw the dark-skinned and wide-eyed face of Dierdre Merlo, the CEO of Future World Industries. The segment had been recorded yesterday afternoon in order to play out on the ten o'clock news. She looked immaculate, as always; her black hair groomed and styled, held in place by a decorative comb. Her make-up was absurdly perfect, the winged eyeliner something to be jealous of.
The lieutenant gave her people a look like Brace yourselves.
The video started in the middle of the GBS reporter speaking.
"--saying now that Superman in possibly a danger to the city. What are your thoughts on that?"
"Oh I very much believe that Superman is a danger to the city." Ms. Merlo replied in a sweet, melodic little girl voice that was at odds with her mature appearance. "How could he not be, attacking good and honest citizens like that? It's a tragedy, is what it is. Why must we, the hard-working people who get by on our own merit, live our lives in constant fear of these destructive metahumans--"
Maggie stopped the video. "I'm going to end that here. The whole segment is five minutes long and she gets more inflammatory until she's practically screaming for full euthanization of metas, so watch it on your time and at your own peril." she informed them. "Lyle, the second video please."
This time, it was the familiar shine of Lex Luthor's bald head. He was clad in his usual black suit that was as clean and immaculate as the top of his head. He was sitting in a patch of full sunlight that set off a nice gleam on his cufflinks and tie pin and gave his dark eyes a glimmer that probably wasn't supposed to look sinister.
"Superman a danger to the city?" Luthor started, in response to the same question. "Well, it would be premature to jump to such an extreme conclusion, but we have seen a demonstration of his power. And I'm quite sure that was only a fraction of what he is truly capable of. So yes, in my humble opinion, Superman is dangerous. A man of his great power could be nothing but.
"Furthermore, we have no idea who this Superman is. Where did he come from? What does he want? What is his purpose for being here in Metropolis? We have no answers. We would be foolish to trust him at all, never mind placing our lives in his hands."
"Do you think the city leaders should take action against him?" the reporter questioned.
"At this early stage? No, of course not. He could flatten the city in the blink of an eye." Luthor shook his head briefly. "Caution over action is what I would suggest for the time being. Until we learn of a weakness, there is very little we could do in retaliation--"
Maggie stopped the video and turned off the television.
"He carries on for another minute like that, so on your own time and at your own peril." she repeated. This business man had a calmer tone and a less volatile stance, but he sounded no less provoked, as if he personally had been offended by Superman's appearance yesterday.
"Let's run down the numbers." the lieutenant started. "One: Luthor and Merlo are two of the loudest voices in the city and they're both agreeing that Superman is a danger to the people. It would take the combined forces of the Daily Planet, the Daily Star, and the City Post to out-shout both of them.
"Two: Both have so far failed to mention the F.I.S.S. While I would believe that Ms. Merlo never bothered to view the available footage, Luthor would never dare be so uninformed.
"Which means, three: the information could have been doctored before it reached the news, in order to back up the claims made by both of these people. As far as I know, none of the news sources in the city were given access to the full footage. So four: I believe that someone wanted to incite these exact responses and stop Superman in his tracks. Stop him before we can see what he becomes."
"But to what end?" Detective Jones inquired rhetorically. "What do they hope to gain from this course of action?"
Turpin shuddered. "I don't think any of us want to find out." he commented. The last time anyone had gone around stonewalling metahumans in any capacity, the Scare -- already in progress then -- had turned violent.
"This brings us back around to our original problem." Maggie went on. "We can't catch the F.I.S.S. on our own. We're all normal, unpowered people here, just as fragile and breakable as you can imagine. But the commissioner wants us to catch the guy and we have free rein on how we do it. Historically, the D.E.O. often used metahumans to catch metahumans, so we would hardly be stepping outside of our jurisdiction if we requested Superman's assistance."
"On that note, since he does meet the provisional classification under the Code," Captain Jase added, starting to smirk. "We are still within our right to ask him for help."
"It's just a matter of convincing the people in charge that this is the best course of action." Maggie said. "Which means we need to out-shout Luthor and Merlo."
The rest of the SCU started to smile knowingly.
"Officer Kanigher? Talk to Lois Lane. She's our best contact in the Daily Planet and if she can't convince her editor, her blog still gets forty thousand hits a day. I'll talk to Lori and see if she can secure some cooperation from her editor." Lori Raynes, her girlfriend and a report for the Metropolis Star. "Does anyone know someone from the City Post?"
Gordon raised a hand. "My fiancée does. Fashion column, though."
"Better than nothing. Get yourself introduced to someone on the city desk and pray to god they have enough sway with their editor." the lieutenant instructed. "We'll convince those three to collaborate if we have to."
She just hoped their three-pronged attack would amount to something instead of leaving them flailing in the wind.
Across town and several hours later, Ms. Merlo's rant on the dangers of Superman and metahumans was replaying on the evening news. She spoke in loud passionate tones that started to take on a hysterical edge by minute three. By minute five, it was a full-fledged rant. When Ms. Merlo stopped to take what was probably her first breath since minute two, Johnathan stabbed the mute button.
"That's just five minutes of bullshit." he commented, appalled that anyone could be so inflammatory for so long.
Clark nodded his agreement. He hadn't been expecting praise and welcome remarks from all corners, not with the world so jaded against the idea of superheroes, but for someone to act as though the idea had been birthed from Satan's asshole and had immediately set out to murder small children...
He stared thoughtfully at Ms. Merlo's silenced rant while his legs stiffened under one hundred and twenty pounds of white-furred dog. Krypto was still convinced he was indeed small enough to fit into Clark's lap, despite the obvious fact he had outgrown that lap about four years ago.
Clark scratched idly behind the dog's ears.
"That looks a little uncomfortable." Johnathan commented, noting the cross-legged position that his son's legs had assumed in order to accommodate the large fluffy beast. "Still got some feeling left in your toes, son?"
Clark smiled. "They aren't tingling yet." he said. Sometimes, he wondered if his blood vessels were just a lot more resistant to being pinched shut.
"My knees would have seized up the second I tried to bend them like that." Johnathan said, gesturing with the mug of hot chocolate he was holding. "Got 'em all beat up playing football in high school and now I'm reaping the rewards in my old age."
"You're not old." Clark replied automatically, his all-purpose response whenever his parents commented on their ages. Even if they weren't getting any younger, they still weren't as old as they joked.
Johnathan smiled appreciatively, but he knew full well that his knees creaked sometimes and Clark heard it. His dad was hale and healthy for a man of his age, but even a lifetime of hard farm labor had to catch up sooner or later. Not that it would stop Johnathan Kent. He'd putter around the farm on creaky joints until they rusted over like hinges and yet still insist on cleaning the chicken coop.
As stubborn and solid as the ground their feet, he was.
It was just the Kents now. Pete had had to leave rather earlier than planned; he had been going to depart with Johnathan and Martha on Sunday afternoon. Instead, his sister-in-law had gone into labor a little sooner than calculated and he could hardly miss the birth of his first niece, so he had caught a flight out a few hour ago.
The news was replaying all the footage of Superman was there was available, as he was the hot controversy tonight. The recap included the photo of Lois's swooning damsel pose that had made its rounds on social media.
Johnathan smiled, looking vaguely smug but also proud. "Nice catch, son."
"Lois hates that picture. I think she would burn the camera of whoever took it if she could find them." Clark said. "She says it should be the cover of a pulp sci-fi novel and not a front-page picture in a legitimate newspaper. Besides, they talk about that like I'd just caught her."
Johnathan blinked. "You didn't?"
"Nope. She was still very much conscious when I put her down in one of the buildings nearby. That," Clark pointed at the displayed photo. "Was after I'd stopped Nam-Ek."
"Oh, there is it. The culture of misinformation." Martha commented dryly, coming around the to the living area with three bowls balanced across her hands. "They must have muddled the timeline by the time the story reached us in Smallville."
"There wasn't a lot of information at first. Not until Lois put up a blog post." Clark pointed out, reaching out to take one of the bowls. Martha had baked an apple pie this afternoon. It was still warm and there was a scoop of vanilla ice cream slowly melting alongside the slice. He had about five minutes before the whole thing melted into delicious soup.
Martha beamed. "She seems like a nice young lady, that Lois. She's good for you, keeping you on your toes." she said. Granted, most of what Clark had said about Lois Lane had boiled down to 'insane', 'impulsive', and 'impressive', but a mother like Martha Kent could hear the faint undertones of fondness.
"Have you thought about inviting her out to the farm some time?"
"Mom! It hasn't even been two months!"
"When you get to know her better, of course. It doesn't have to be next weekend." Martha said, waving a hand. She handed Johnathan the second bowl of pie and ice cream and sat down on the couch.
Invite Lois Lane, city slicker extraordinaire, out to Smallville? It was wishful thinking at its finest. Clark sincerely doubted he could convince Lois to travel out to Smallville with him, no matter how much of close friends they might become. She was a city girl, he could see that much about her. She was accustomed to the buzz and beat of Metropolis. Maybe even a little addicted to it. Her horrified tone when he asked if she'd been to Kansas gave him the impression now that actually leaving Metropolis, for her, would be equivalent to unhooking a blood transfusion before it was done.
"Don't frown like that, Clark. It'll stick that way when the wind changes." Martha added. A frown had never suited her son's face.
"Sorry, I'm just--" Clark rubbed his hands over his face as if to physically wipe away the frown. "I know I did something good, but it just doesn't feel like it."
"Because of the attention you're getting for it?" Johnathan asked. "Well, being visible like that is going to attract attention. If you're planning to carry on with this hero business, you're going to get a lot more."
"You're not something they've ever seen before, Clark. Well..." Martha hesitated for a moment to think back on her World War II history. "Well, you're not something they've seen in a long while. Not since..." She looked to her husband with a blank expression.
Johnathan shrugged. "Wonder Woman, probably." he answered. "She had all the same powers as you-- except for the laser vision. I don't think she had that."
"But I remember they said she could fly, she was very strong and fast, and she was very difficult to hurt." Martha counted off the attributes on her fingers. "None of the other members of the Justice Society could do what she could do and she disappeared just after the war was over in Japan, so the world hasn't see someone like her in sixty years."
"And then you come along." Johnathan added brightly. "You kept people safe yesterday, son. There's no denying that."
"I know." Clark nodded. It frustrated him that he couldn't pin down why he felt so conflicted. He had kept people safe; no one had died on the scene and it sounded like everyone in the hospital weren't going to die of their injuries. There could have been loss of life yesterday, but thanks to him, they would keep on keeping on.
It had been the right thing to do.
But then there were these naysayers condemning him, screaming and declaring that he was a danger and a menace and leaving him with the feeling that he had interfered in the wrong way somehow.
And they were only talking about him too. Barely anyone at all had seen fit to mention the strongman who had been the actual cause of yesterday's problems. They seemed to content to look at Superman and accuse him of wrong-doing.
"Clark, what are you worried about?" Martha prompted worriedly. She hadn't seen such an intense look on his face since they had told him about his alien origins.
Clark looked up at his parents. "How the world is going to react to this. All of Metropolis has seen me by now, but just wait until the rest of the nation gets a load of me. The government, the military... They'll know what I can do and they'll probably think I can do more. What stops them from turning me into a political pawn? What stops them from making me their new weapon of mass destruction?"
"Clark Jerome Kent!" Martha snapped, using the Full Name, a sure sign he had said the wrong thing. "First of all, if you start thinking like that, it could just happen! Don't you dare let it! Don't you dare let anyone compromise the good man you are! Is that understood?"
The second her voice had risen, Clark had pressed himself to the back of the chair as if he could get away from her shouting.
"Yes, Mom." he said, nodding quickly.
"And that's why you should do an interview." Johnathan suggested. "I know it means putting yourself out there even more, but it'll give you the chance to express your views."
"But-- What if they don't think I should be-- interfering?" Clark asked. People were already arguing that he was just sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. The loudest voices of Metropolis were having their say.
"You're not going to be able to avoid the naysayers, I'll say that right now. But the important thing is to get your side of the story out there." Johnathan said, while his wife nodded in agreement.
"It's not going to hurt you if people are allowed to know a little about you." she said. "If you don't start talking to the press, you'll never be able to defend yourself when you need to. Look at what's happening to that fellow in Central City."
Clark must have still looked quite skeptical, because what if he still did an interview and people started talking as much shit about him as they did about Zoom the Saffron Streak? Not that Zoom wasn't deserving every ounce of vitriol; he really was a very disagreeable person. But Zoom was the precise example of what Clark feared his 'superhero' persona could become. A target for anger and undefined hate. A dartboard for people to pin blame on, however irrational. Rising gas prices, hiked taxes, and the president sucks, and it was somehow his fault.
"What if they want me to fix problems I can't do anything about?" he asked. "I can't lower taxes or make the politicians smarter or wipe out the national debt. What if I start catching flak for that?"
"They've got no business assuming that that's something you can do." Martha said firmly. Her husband nodded.
Both of Clark's parents believed in doing the heavy lifting yourself. They didn't find much reason to respect someone who wanted to accomplish something but wasn't willing to put in the hard work and effort to get there. They found people like that to be irritatingly lazy.
"Clark." The chair creaked under Johnathan as he leaned forward. "I think, sometimes, people just need a hero. Someone they can look up to. Someone they can aspire to be. Besides, you'll still be Clark Kent. Superman just helps out from time to time."
Clark shrugged and finally stuck a fork into his neglected slice of pie. Best to eat it before the ice cream melted. "I guess I need to talk to a reporter who's willing to give me a proper airing."
"I'm sure that Lois Lane is just the reporter you need to talk to." Martha suggested casually. "She sounds like exactly what you need. Fair, unbiased. Her articles are solid. I enjoy reading them."
"And you already saved her. I'm sure she'd be willing." Johnathan said. "If you think you can trust her, go to her for an interview. The last thing you want is for people to get the wrong impression of you."
With that, the matter seemed to be settled. Clark turned the idea over in his head. Perry had rung him up around noon to tell him that Lois had just about changed her mind. That she was putting the Gigante story on the back burner in favor of the Big Story that had gone down right in Metropolis's backyard, eagerly agreeing to the task of getting an interview with "Superman". There were two dozen reporters whose new assignments were to pin him down so Lois could go in for the kill, which prompted slightly bizarre mental imagery akin to a nature documentary with the British narrator expounding the superior hunting attributes of the common Homo Reportus against the Homo Kryptus.
He shook his head briefly to get rid of the imagery.
There was one thing that he couldn't ignore. It was that, sooner or later, Lois would track him down. There was little doubt that she would collaborate with those two dozen reporters to put all the information together into one picture. One way or another, she was going to find him.
So if an interview was inevitable, then it oughta happen on Clark's terms.
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no politics on the review board plz