Sorry everybody!! I've been super wrapped up in a ton of RL stuff-- I've had two graduation parties and a wedding, plus working and doing work to get work now that I'm done with school (woohoo!)... and mainly I've been all around busy. And hot. Blistering heat that melts everyone in its path... So here we are. I'll update the last chapter soon, so you've got it all done soon (finally decided to split it into 4 chapters instead of 3). So, without further ado, here's chapter three!
Updated TOC (Also, there should be no more WHAMs through the end of this chapter, so no worries for the faint of heart. The worst has passed.)
********** LnC **********
A young man, maybe 24 years of age, stood around in a dark alley uncomfortably. His hands shook. His eye twitched. He desperately wanted to pace, but unfortunately that would only draw more attention. He huffed a sigh and carded a shaky hand through his short, sandy brown hair.
Sam couldn't help it-- he was nervous. She should have been here almost an hour ago. He'd have thought it was a trap if it weren't for how adamant she'd been when they met yesterday. Of course, because of the danger of this promised mission, they only sent him. He was essentially a pawn in the Revolutionary army, easy to spare, and if this went south-- well, he knew better than to pretend there would be a pleasant outcome.
He tried to force himself to not look at his watch again, but he did anyways. He groaned. It was already nine-fifty. She was supposed to meet at eight. He'd give her ten more minutes before bailing. Maybe she'd just lost track of time. Or forgotten. It wasn't entirely impossible-- after all, it had been a week since they'd all met last. Then again, she had quite a memory, thanks to her genetics. And she'd been so determined, so sure of herself last time... They weren't sure whether they could trust her, but she'd promised this information, and they had to choose the lesser of two evils. And Johanna Kent was certainly made of a lesser evil than her father.
Another man walked past and collided with Sam's shoulder. "Hey, watch it, buddy," he retorted, with a dark glare.
The man turned on him quickly, and Sam was taken aback by the bright blue eyes that had been previously hidden under his hood and that mop of black hair that hung over his eyes. His words got caught in his throat as he realized that they matched Johanna's eyes, that this must be her brother, Jason. Sam swallowed thickly, readying himself to run in the other direction if it came down to it-- if he recognized him as part of the revolution.
Jason's eyes narrowed and Sam knew he'd been made. He fought to keep his lunch down and turned on his heel, when the other man's hand grasped his wrist and spun him back firmly. Eyes closed, Sam braced himself for whatever violent reaction was to come, but in fact, none did.
"Walk with me."
Sam opened his eyes quizzically and saw the other man already walking away. Confused now, he had no choice but to follow him for answers. He quickened his pace to catch up with him and fell into step alongside the man. They didn't speak for a while, just walking in what seemed to be an aimless pattern along the darker streets of Metropolis, the grime and the lack of care evident in the piles of garbage that lined the streets and the dilapidated conditions of the buildings. It wasn't anything like what Sam had been used to back home, but he'd sworn that he'd do anything to bring the ruling class of Kents down, and here he was. Aligned with the Revolutionaries, working as their copy boy and not getting a hell of a lot out of it.
Until now, that is. He was their last chance at a breakthrough, and if he could do this, it could possibly turn the tide of the war. And Samuel Lynnis might finally get a chance to make a name for himself in this world.
Sam finally found his voice. "I don't understand. You're--"
"Shut. Up."
"But why--"
"I said, shut up."
Sam closed his mouth with a click and allowed the younger man to take charge for now. They walked a ways in silence, Jason's form tense and hunched, and Sam's curiosity only grew as he watched how many times the guy looked over his shoulder in fear. Eventually, Sam couldn't hold his tongue much more, and he spoke in hushed tones. "I was under the impression that you were entirely against the Revolution, and what your sister has been trying to accomplish."
Jason skidded to a halt and Sam forced himself to stop alongside him, meeting very clear, blue eyes as he answered head on. "Oh, I am. Don't get the wrong idea at all. I think your revolution is entirely misguided."
His brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why--"
"Why am I here, so clearly meeting with someone from the other side?"
Sam closed his mouth and nodded solemnly.
"Because. Despite the fact that you guys have no idea what you're dealing with and you're completely dismissing all of the good that the Supers have done in the past, you are right about my father. He is a monster."
Sam felt his pulse spike, hope rising in his chest. "Really? That's good news then-- well, not
good news exactly, but-- what makes you think so?"
Jason paused a moment, considering, before finally pulling a manila envelope out of his jacket and handing it over. "Because he's a bastard and he needs to pay for what he's done, no matter the cost."
Sam took the proffered envelope cautiously out of his hands, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. His fingers shook as he peeled back the seal, nervous at what might be inside. Taking a deep breath, he finally pulled the glossy pages out of the folder and looked at them.
He blanched at the images of blood and death that stood off the page. The sickening twist of her body, the way she nearly stared right back at him-- oh, hell, he was going to puke. Sam's hands started to tremble at the realization of what this implied. "She-- she's-- how?"
"He killed her."
Some part of him registered the way Jason said those words, how his voice shook with barely constrained emotion. But he couldn't seem to wrap his head around it. "You... you killed her. She's dead."
"Woah, buddy. Back up. I didn't kill her. Dear old dad killed her. That's why I'm giving this information to you."
"Why? Why would he-- why are you-?" The image on the page before him started to swim before his eyes, and Sam could barely pull himself together enough to string a complete sentence. This was the closest Sam had ever come to death. He'd never lost anyone close in his life. Yet here was an image of the girl he'd gotten to know over the course of several months, and she was dead. He felt a hand gently rest on his arm, and he jerked away quickly, eyes finally snapping up in a panic to meet the younger man's.
Jason's hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. "Hey. Calm down a minute. You got a name?"
He squared his jaw before answering, chest still heaving with panic. "Sam. Samuel Lynnis."
A bitter huff of laughter escaped him before he could stop it, and Sam glared at the super across from him. "Sorry. It's just... Sam's kind of a Kent family name. Might want to think about changing it, if you're wanting to be a better part of this Revolution."
Sam's glare didn't let up, but he recognized the truth in his words. He'd been teased about it for a while now, sometimes harmlessly, sometimes accusingly-- calling him a Sympathizer, or a traitor. It's not like he could help the name he was given. Twenty-four years ago, it had been a popular name, for that very reason. He shook his head to clear it and get himself back on track. "Why are you giving this to me?"
Jason sighed and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Because. I might not have supported what my sister was trying to do, but she died to do it. It's not worth her life if nothing came of it."
Sam's nostrils flared. "So that's all this is to you? Completing a transaction?"
Jason squared his stance in return, towering above him. "Listen, I'm sorry, but it's not my place to get involved. I know he's a monster, and he killed my sister, but he's still my father. And although Jo was adamant you guys weren't Extremists out to kill us all, I don't trust a single one of you. Blood is thicker than water, and that's all there is to it."
"What about loyalty to your sister? What about her sacrifice? Is it that meaningless to you?"
"I didn't have to do this!" Jason exclaimed, offended by the sudden turn their interaction had taken. "It's none of your business what I choose to do from here on out. I just thought it was something the world ought to know."
With that, he spun on his heel, and strode away in the opposite direction. Sam couldn't believe how dismissive he'd been of his sister's death. The wheels spun in his head. "You're going to regret this. You could be doing so much more for us. Your sister would have wanted you to!"
Jason stopped, about twenty feet away, and turned to stare back at him with a gaze full of ice. "I'm already doing more than she'd expect out of me. I want that out there in the news cycle as soon as possible, and that's all that matters."
With that, he rocketed through the air and left the young man behind.
Sam glanced back at the pictures in his hands and couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. He'd met Johanna several times now-- he'd been one of her main correspondents over the last six months or so, and she was a really incredible young woman. He held a great respect for her-- she was a testament to the argument that not all of the Supers were bad, and it made him rethink his convictions several times over.
But now she was dead.
His gut churned. Who was really left to care about? This wasn't about just a change in the order of things anymore. This was bigger than any politics.
He wasn't going to go back to the Revolutionists with this information. He was taking it straight up the line, to the Extremists.
*****LnC*****
City of Smallville"Jerome!"
The high-pitched voice that squealed his name into his ear brought a grin to his face, which he in turn applied to the skin of her neck. She giggled, half-pushing him away coquettishly and at the same time encouraging him to do more. He growled in response, attacking her with more fervor. God, he loved this woman. She gasped against his neck heatedly, and he brought his lips back around to meet her own, skin sliding against skin.
A sharp pain sliced through his head like a hot blade, and suddenly Jerome Kent, Jr., was reeling, pulling away sharply.
His girlfriend sat up in confusion and hurt. "Jerome? Everything okay?"
Pounding, aching, trembling. He held his head in his hands, wincing and trying to shake the pain away, but with no such luck. He didn't understand what could be causing this feeling. It certainly wasn't Kryptonite-- and besides, this felt like it was coming across from a long distance.
"'Lise," he breathed through the agony. "Help me."
And with that, he slumped over and passed out.
