Chapter 44
Coast City…
Clark is in town to spend time with his baby girl…or that was the plan until a massive fire broke out at the docks. Honestly he had been planning to have a day off from the heroics. In the last couple of weeks, since the VRA had been repealed, he had been really busy all across the world trying to take advantage of, well lets face it, their victory.
They had stopped the madness. The persecution. The witch hunt. They had, in Clark's opinion, struck a blow against the Darkness. Temporarily maybe but until they find a way to actually destroy it it's the best any of them can do.
Anyway dealing with the fire means he's late by the time he reaches Andrea's apartment…and he does not get the greeting from his daughter he thought he would.
"Papá. You smell bad," the little black-haired girl says, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
Clark ends up sniffing his own arm.
"She's right. You smell like smoke," Andi comments.
"Fire at the docks," he explains.
"Go. You can use my bathroom," she permits him to go get the smell out.
"Thank you," he says, about to kiss her on the cheek when she blocks him. "Ah no. You are not getting any grime on me, thank you very much," she disses him. She probably should give more thought to the fact that if he wasn't grimy she would have just allowed him to kiss her even though she had previously asked for time when it came to them.
Clark lets her diss slide off and goes to have a quick shower. While there he gives some brief thought to the stasis of his and Andrea's relationship. He hasn't pushed since she asked for time. No matter how much he wishes they could be a proper couple. Ever since he met her she's had this wall erected, protecting her heart. He wants to be the one to tear it down…or is it her that needs to tear it down and let him in?
This may be the one occasion he misses his friendship with Chloe. In the past he could have asked her advice. Whether that is a bridge burned beyond repair he still has no idea. He finishes his shower, gets redressed and exits the bathroom to find Andrea playing with their daughter, an image that always makes him smile, while Andi also half-watching something on the tv.
"Of all the vigilantes who have emerged recently one of those who gets most talked about is the Blur of Metropolis. From his superhuman speed and strength to an ability to generate powerful blasts of air and what looks like shooting lasers but one thing that has eluded anyone so far is to get a clean shot of his face. Tonight we get the closest yet by compositing together the best images taken."
Clark blinks as they manage to get a blurry, slightly disjointed image of his face.
"They're getting closer to it aren't they," Andrea comments.
"Yeah," Clark says with a sigh, unsure what to do about it.
"What…"
Her question is cut off by an excitable 4 year old. "Mamá! Papá! Are we going? Are we? Are we? Are we?"
"Yes, my little sunshine. We're going," Clark assures her. "I can deal with that later," he says, gesturing at the tv.
Part of Andrea, the focussed side of her, wants to say he really shouldn't be putting this off. Then again the mother part of her can see that their daughter has him wrapped around her little finger. When they give her identical expectant looks she can see she isn't going to win this one.
Metropolis…
Has the time come for her to go back?
A simple question to which Mia has found has no good answer. No matter it has been at the forefront of her mind for weeks now.
She's caught in two minds. On one hand the longer she stays the more she begins to fear of screwing up history. On the other hand is another fear. Of what sort of world would she return to.
She must admit to being no expert on time travel despite appearances. Would she simply return to the world she left? The one where she is a complete failure. An outcast, ejected from the League her father helped found. An insult to her father's legacy. The world where both her parents are dead.
Or would she return to who knows what? A completely unknown world where everything has been altered by her actions here in the past.
As she stands upon a random rooftop tonight another thought enters her head. As long as she stays here she knows she's in a place where here parents are alive and well.
Schrap!
This is all too many conflicting thoughts for her as she raises a hand to her forehead.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe-hey, isn't that Old Man Queen?
Mia narrows her eyes. It is Oliver. A heavily disguised Oliver but no doubt it is the erstwhile Green Arrow. What is he up to?
She watches him enter the Ace of Clubs. A short time later, in a red dress, comes the focus of all her father's grumblings as of late; Chloe Sullivan.
To be truthful Mia knows neither that well from her future. She knows their son…a little. She guesses they're on a date or something. Well if she ever wants to meet Roy she supposes she better leave them to it.
On the other hand her father has made clear he doesn't trust Chloe and therefore it may be a good idea to keep an eye on the blond woman.
Coast City…
Having put a worn out Mia to bed Clark and Andrea now stand at her kitchen island, sharing a drink and a snack.
"So, can we return to the problem with your identity?" Andrea raises.
"You're worried," he gets from her tone and demeanour.
"Yes," she admits. "Not just about you but…"
"About Mia?" he guesses.
The brunette nods.
Clark takes a sip of his drink. "This is, in fact, not a new issue. My whole life I've worried over what would happen if I was discovered and it was never my own personal safety I was concerned over. It was my parents, my friends."
"Except I'm guessing you were not embarking on this path of heroism back then."
"No."
"What about copying your friends?"
"You mean the hoodie and shades look?"
"Yeah."
"Two words. Heat vision."
"Yeah. That wouldn't work."
"Also you remember when we were on our way to the Cherry Festival and we were talking about the anti-vigilante rally and I said how I wanted to be able to do more?"
Andrea nods. "Like speak out in public," she recalls.
"I…want to be an example for people to follow and I don't think I can be that if I hide my face but how can I do that and not put those I love at risk?"
Andrea's face becomes deeply contemplative. "You have a problem."
"Tell me about it," he gripes. There is a silence following that. Clark finds himself studying/admiring Andrea's lovely face. Then an idea strikes him. "Andi. Will you humour me for a second?" he requests as he walks round until they are face to face.
"Huh?" she says, understandably confused as his hand reaches forward and removes her glasses. He places them down and then unties her hair from the band it is in. She finds herself swallowing hard as the proximity of his body to hers is…wow, is it hot in here.
"You know you can make yourself look quite a bit different without your glasses and changing your hair. I remember being surprised by it when we first met."
"Not enough since as I recall once you pulled my mask off you recognised me."
"True but I'm just remembering something."
"Uh huh," Andrea says as she reaches for a drink to try and cool off her heated body.
"When I travelled to the future and met myself he was wearing glasses."
"You know there was a time not very long ago when hearing something like that would have been weird," she complains, wondering how her life got so strange. Oh right, she got knocked up by an alien. Now she remembers.
All Clark can offer in return is a shrug.
"I'm going to assume you, unlike me, can't suffer from myopia," she supposes, getting back on topic.
"No. Also it is what Mia does normally when she's out and about. I must admit to never really asking her about it."
"Ok. Lets just go with you choose glasses to wear. That would mean making this," she gestures at him, "your normal self the disguise?" she deduces.
"I think so," he says as the idea starts to correlate in his head.
"No offence here, Clark but I don't see how you can do it. How many people have seen your face at the Planet alone every day when you go into work? I can't see it working. Not unless you can make everyone forget what you look like."
That sparks another idea in his head.
"Ok, what's with that look?" she asks before getting a shock when Clark suddenly plants one deep kiss right on her lips.
"You are a genius," he proclaims before he goes and grabs his coat. "I need to go see someone. I'll speak to you later," he says as he exits the apartment.
"Right. Yes. Sure," Andrea says, befuddled by the impact of that kiss on her. She then blows out a breath before muttering, "I need a shower. A really cold one."
Metropolis…
Mia has to say that these two are just the worst. Stealing someone else's reservation. Some heroes, huh? That poor Mr and Mrs Jones, whoever they are. Also all the flirting. Makes her want to wretch. And here she was thinking nothing could beat having to endure Aunt Penny's flirting. Shows what she knows.
At least she doesn't have to see it. Only listen in on it. Though she will admit there are many a time she wishes she had inherited her father's visual gifts.
Despite her father's totally justifiable lack of trust in his former best friend Mia is just about to pack it in and leave these two to their date when Oliver gets a phone call from the real Mrs Jones.
"Hello, dear," Oliver answers after the waitress gives her in no way hidden opinion on what she thinks of the 'cheating husband'.
"I know this line isn't secure, but you weren't answering your cell. I found them, but I don't think I have much longer. Oh, God," a female voice in clearly terrible fear.
"Who is this? Hello? Is everything all right? Ma'am? Hello? Can you hear me?" Oliver asks in concern.
"What's happening?"
"What do you mean, Ma'am? Hello?"
"He found me."
"Hello? Who found you? Who is this? Hello?"
The only reply is a scream.
Mia snaps out of listening over the phone to trying to find the scream in the city. There!
Whoosh!
Mia is gone in a blur, flying above the rooftops. She finds the spot too late it seems as on the ground is a woman who appears to be dead. Standing over her is a dark-blond man speaking on the phone to Oliver. "Don't worry, Mr. Jones. You'll be joining her soon enough."
"Actually he won't. But you will be joining all the other psychos in one of our country's many fine prisons," she announces herself as she floats down but remains hovering a few feet above the ground.
"Ah. The so-called Maiden of Might," is his reply in an eerily calm voice before he looks up at her, with a stare so lifeless it sends a shiver up her spine.
"And you are…actually kinda familiar," the floating superhero remarks as she gets a good look at the guy. It's like she knows him from somewhere but can't quite place it.
"There will be plenty of time for us to get to know each other better," he promises creepily. "Lashina. Be a dear and say hello to our guest."
"Lashina?" Supergirl whispers that name in shock mere seconds before a metallic whip wraps around her ankle. Mere seconds later she is screaming in pain as a massive jolt of electricity is run through her form. The loss of focus has her fall from the sky and crash on the ground. She hears the whips being cracked and feels the air fill with static electricity.
"Take my advice. Stay down," Lashina advises.
Supergirl laughs mockingly as she rises back up to her feet. "Twip, I don't even listen to my own parents," she claims which is not actually true but sounded like a good thing to say in response.
"Well then instead of killing you, maybe I'll take you back to Granny. A few sessions in her care corrects even the most rebellious child," Lashina promises darkly as she attacks, her whips cracking mere millimetres from their intended target.
"Looked in a mirror lately. I think I'm older than you are," Supergirl retorts as she dodges the strikes.
"I was striding across the stars long before this world's sun burned bright. Long before its oceans filled with the slime that would become what you call life. You haven't changed much."
"Wow, that must be a really good moisturiser you use."
"Insolent brat."
"Actually I would go with more along the line of a sandbagging brat," Supergirl replies as she switches from being on the defensive to the offensive as she unleashes blasts of energy from her hands. Only to watch rather stunned as her athletic opponent manages to deflect the blasts with her whips. Huh. That's never happened to her before.
Lashina then moves with all the grace of a gymnast with a series of flips before she delivers a kick to Supergirl's gut. A kick that had a substantial weight behind it thanks to the meteor rock treatments she and the rest of the Furies have been undergoing.
Supergirl, caught off guard, staggers back a few paces but she's not actually hurt. In fact she's a tiny bit confused. She thought New Gods hit harder than that. The next attack she dodges at superspeed, blurs behind her opponent and smashes an elbow into the woman's back before sweeping her legs from under her. She then grabs an arm, twists it and pins Lashina down with her foot on the neck. "I expected better from a Female Fury," she comments. "Aren't you supposed to be the 'Elite'?" her voice turns to mocking.
Lashina's face twists in rage and frustration at her inability to break free. How this weak, pathetic ape body disgusts her. She can't even put into words how much.
"Regardless of her weakness she is still a useful distraction," the voice of the man says just as he grabs Supergirl by the head and she screams.
Flashes pass by of a familiar life. Growing up in Coast City. Meeting Aunt Penny for the first time. The 4 geeks. First day of school. That terrible night. Aunt Penny being attacked. Her being abducted. Used as bait. Watching her mother die. Endless, soul-destroying grief. Aunt Penny adopting her. Staying up late with her. Holding her after her nightmares. Slowly living her life again. Going to High School. The first appearance of her powers. Developing her first crush. The night Aunt Penny walked in on her and her 'special friend'. Graduation. Travelling to Mexico to seek out her relatives. Starting out on her path as a vigilante. Superman's death. Being called to the Fortress by her grandfather. Learning the truth of her parentage. Joining the Justice League. Meeting Ultraman for the first time. Her fated meeting with Ravager. Her suspension from the League. Discovering time travel. Her decision to leave. Travelling back, meeting her father, her mother, her younger self…
Then the images replay only with changes. It's the same up to living in Coast City. Then one day a tall man with curly dark hair showed up at their home. He started visiting regularly and she just felt a natural connection to him. A deep liking of him. Then at Christmas she discovers why. He is her father. From that moment on he is a permanent part of her life. Christmases. Birthdays. Her, her father and her mother all living together…wait. That's not right. That's not what happened.
Suddenly Mia is back in the real world, still screaming. Only she's not the only one. The dreg with his hands on her head is screaming too as a mystical backlash builds up, emanating from her bracelets and in flash of energy the two are sent flying in opposite directions.
Supergirl crashes into a pile of garbage, knocks over a dumpster which has the temerity to land on top of her. She lies there groaning, her head pounding for a good few minutes before she can find the ability to focus her mind.
It's at that point she realises where she is and more particularly what she is buried in. Many Spanish spoken curses emanate from her mouth as she throws the dumpster off of her and gets back to her feet. She looks around. Lashina, the man and even the corpse are gone.
In a fit of annoyance and anger she blasts some garbage…which is an awful mistake when some rotting, mushy food splatters all over her face.
She wipes it off while still trying to sort out her mind. Her memories are all jumbled up. She needs to get home. She rises up and then pauses as she asks a very profound question; Where is home?
Coast City with her mother?
Or the farm with both her parents?
Both seem equally real and true in her mind.
But both can't be right?
She brings her hands to her temples and presses hard with her palms. God, her head is killing her. She can barely think straight. Can barely recall her own name. In the end she chooses the version of home she likes best and heads for the farm.
Las Vegas…
Zatanna Zatara crashes down on her bed after finishing her show for the evening. The glamorous life of a superhero…not!
"Do you not find it a little strange to be putting on slight of hand when you can perform real magic?"
Zatanna rolls over and sits herself up before grinning seductively at her guest. "And here I thought I couldn't make my own wishes come true," she says in a deep, husky tone.
"Huh?"
"You. Me. Alone in a bedroom," she explains, waggling her eyebrows.
Clark rolls his eyes. Zatanna has never exactly been subtle about her advances for him "Don't make me give the 'only friends' speech Zatanna," he gently warns her off.
"Can't blame a girl for trying. Especially since I hear you're single now."
"I am not here to discuss my love life Zatanna," Clark warns her off that strongly.
"So you have one?" is the dark-haired sorceress' twist on his words.
Clark folds his arms across his chest and gives her a severe look.
Zatanna rolls her eyes, utterly unintimidated. "So, if you're not here to enjoy the fleshly pleasures what brings you by?"
"I need your help with something."
"Like?"
Clark then goes on to explain his lack of secret identity problem and how he doesn't want to hide his face. He then goes on to explain his solution. "I want to make people forget what Clark Kent looks like…or at least this version of him," he gestures vaguely at himself.
Zatanna's brow furrows. "Memory spells are tricky at the best of times, Clark and what you want is more complicated. You don't want people to forget you entirely right?"
"No. I just want them to perceive Clark Kent as different from the Blur. My idea is I want Clark Kent to be the mask. I have an idea about wearing glasses."
"Glasses," Zatanna murmurs. "You're going to need to give me a little time to mull it over. I'm not sure it's possible to give you exactly what you want but I may be able to come up with something."
"Thank you, Zatanna. I owe you one."
"You bet your muscular buttocks you do."
"I'll leave to get some rest," he says before his phone goes off. He check the caller ID and frowns. "Kent here…Uh huh…I see…I'll be there as soon as I can…thanks…I owe you."
"So you else do you owe one to now?" Zatanna asks, curious.
"It's a source I have with the Metropolis PD. They've found a pile of bodies. It looks like the work of a serial killer."
The dark haired magician makes a face of disgust. "And here I thought Gotham's cadre of lunatics was bad," she mutters.
"What?" Clark asks with understandable confusion. What does Zatanna know about Gotham?
The sexy sorceress offers him no explanation and waves him off. "Go. See to your serial killer. I'll let you know when I have an idea on your secret identity problem."
"Ok. Good night," he says before whooshing off.
Metropolis…
In the back office of one of Desaad's clubs the New God sits at his desk nursing both a drink and a migraine the size of Apokolips itself.
"Desaad."
The man's eyes turn to the shadows in the corner of the room where red sparks of lightning indicate the presence of his Lord. "My Lord."
"You look pained Desaad."
"The defensive magic of the girl's bracelets has quite a sting to it."
"What did you see?"
Desaad frowns and throws back his drink in one large gulp. "Mostly a jumble. There are two contradictory set of memories in her mind. The second set was hidden beneath the first until my probing released them. It's as if she is living two versions of her life simultaneously. I would need more time in contact with her to get the details you seek."
"I see," is the rather bland comment. "Lashina alone could not restrain her."
"No."
"Then I will send you the rest of the Furies. I sense the girl will not let this matter go. She will come back to you. Capture her. Remove those bracelets so she and I can become one. Then all her secrets will be mine."
"As you command, my Lord."
Smallville…
What had started as a pleasant day spent with his daughter and Andi had ended with a horrid conclusion. The image of a pile of dead bodies is not something he's going to be able to scrub from his mind for quite some time. Not to mention when he bumped into a photographer friend of his, Bert Camp, at the scene Bert commented how Clark looks like the Blur. He was able to brush it off somewhat but it just goes to show he really needs a solution soon. He hopes Zatanna comes up with an idea quickly.
Anyway Clark is just back from the mortuary at Metropolis General Hospital. He had hoped to find a connection between the bodies. He did find tiny black ink dots on the back of their hands with his Microvision but didn't know what that meant.
He blows out a breath as he enters the house until his hearing picks up the sound of Mia making noises as if she is in distress. He blurs into the lounge and finds her on the couch, asleep but tossing and turning as if having a nightmare. He better wake her up. "Mia," he says firmly as he shakes her gently by the shoulders.
Clark's lesson for the day. Be careful when waking up superstrong half-Kryptonians. He only wishes it hadn't taken a right hook to his face to learn it.
"Ay dios mío! Papá. Lo siento mucho. Estás herido?!" Mia cries hysterically.
"Only my pride," Clark gripes as he gets back to his feet, rubbing his jaw.
Mia snorts out a laugh. Her father's reply instantly changing her mood.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up at your old man's expense," he says in jokey sarcasm and in good humour.
"I really am sorry," she says between giggles.
Clark smiles softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"About?"
"You were clearly having a nightmare."
Mia frowns. "It's all a bit foggy."
"I see."
"No. You don't understand. The whole night is a bit foggy."
Clark looks at her intently but patiently.
"There was this guy…and he had some sort of psychic powers. He tried to get inside my head but my bracelets protected me."
Clark brings his hands and places them on her shoulders, concern deep on his face. "What were you doing?"
"Uh…I was just hanging around the city. I remember spotting Chloe and Oliver on a date or something. There was a scream. I followed it. I found this guy standing over a woman. He had a companion. We fought…I think. Then, when I was, I guess, distracted, the guy tried to mind fuck me. At that point everything becomes really jumbled. I just have some vague memory of flying here and I suppose I crashed out on the couch," she explains what she can remember, her face slightly pinched.
Clark's concern only grows. Because he is so powerful one of his bigger worries is that someone somehow gets control over him. The same worry has to apply to Mia. "Are you ok now?"
Mia's brow puckers. "I think so. My mind feels clearer apart from the memory gaps of tonight. I guess the sleep did me some good."
Clark smiles a smile that is a tiny bit forced. "It's still early. You should go to bed and get a full night's rest," he suggests. They can deal with this in the morning when she has properly rested. "And if your mind is still hazy I guess we can contact John," he proposes to get help from the telepathic Martian if they need to.
Mia nods in agreement. Clark gives her a quick kiss on the forehead before she heads off upstairs.
Author's Note: Yep, it's time for the glasses and for Clark to begin to differentiate himself from his heroic alter ego. My issue, which I have Andrea mention and a problem of the show's own making is that lots and lots of people have seen Clark's face and a simple pair of glasses really isn't enough IMO to hide him. Hence the little magical extra kick I'm adding. Now what is it that Desaad triggered in Mia's head I wonder. Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews.