From Part 32:
Clark looked up at Susanne, who was now watching him with a concerned expression. “I'm sorry,” he told her. “I...need to go.”
Part 33
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'Michel?'
The name rang through his head. ...Clark?!
“Clark?” Lois still sat on the corner of his—no, Clark's desk, looking progressively more concerned with each passing second. Michel realized he was still gripping the edge, while his mind swam with memories of the asteroid. “Are you okay?”
'Michel, can you hear me?'
He pressed his palms against his eyelids, willing the rest of the fog to clear from his mind. That current of feelings other than his own still wound through his brain; he mentally reached for it, examined it, and let it expand to fill his head. 'Clark? Is that you?'
Michel could almost hear the heavy traffic and the bustle and chatter that filled the streets of Paris at the height of the day. 'Michel!' Elation rolled through him, and he scrambled to keep the connection stable through this sudden shift in Clark's emotions. 'Are you all right? Where are you?!'
“Clark?!” He was aware of Ms. Lane grabbing his shoulder and giving it a light shake. Eyes still closed, he held up one finger. Apparently, she got the hint; she released him, though he could still hear her breathing nearby. 'I'm in Metropolis,' he thought out. 'And you're in...?'
'France', Clark affirmed, his amusement at the situation coming through as clearly as his words. 'Where should we meet up?'
Michel thought for a moment. 'Is there a place half-way between France and America?'
'Canada,' Clark quipped.
It took some effort for Michel not to chuckle out loud; Ms. Lane was already worrying enough about him already. 'Canada sounds good,' he sent out.
He was fairly certain that Clark actually did chuckle out loud. The sounds of the city faded away, replaced by a sense of rushing wind. 'Okay. I'll start heading west; you go north. Let me know when you leave.'
'I'm on my way!' Michel opened his eyes.
Lois was still staring at him, a frown creasing her forehead. “Clark?”
“I remember everything, now!” He rose to his feet and made his way towards the elevator.
“What? That's—oh!” Lois ran to keep up with his long strides. “That's great—Clark, where are you going?!”
The elevator doors sprang open as soon as he pushed the button. “To find Superman!”
**********
They touched down in one of the clear patches scattered throughout the forest. As soon as they landed, Clark opened his arms and ran one step towards Michel, only for his foot to slide out from under him, sending him toppling forward onto the man. They skidded for several feet in a flailing heap of limbs, finally coming to a stop near a fallen tree that jutted out from the smooth expanse of white.
“Are you crazy?!” Michel shouted, laughing. He pushed at Clark's shoulders at the same time that Clark tried to stand, knocking him down again and sending them both spinning gently.
“I'm sorr—oof!” They fell again, sliding another several feet. “Sorry! Here, hang on a minute!” Clark floated into an upright position, then offered Michel a hand. When he took it, Clark pulled him up and into a hug. “I just got my memory back,” he explained once he finally let Michel go. “I spent the past couple days thinking I was you!”
Michel grinned. “That explains your new fashion statement,” he teased. “You know, I never realized that I was so good-looking!”
Clark rolled his eyes, though he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching. “Likewise, I'm sure.” He nodded towards the awfully familiar outfit that Michel was currently wearing, and the two of them broke into giggles. Once the laughter subsided, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Better than I was when I thought I was going mad,” Michel replied, seriously. They drifted down to the fallen tree and sat beside each other on its trunk. “But yes, I am well. Are you?”
Clark nodded. “I think I'll be seeing that asteroid in my nightmares, though,” he admitted.
Michel shuddered. “Yes, me too!”
“Your friend, Susanne, got a sample of it,” Clark continued, brushing at a couple of snowflakes that had fallen onto his eyelashes. “I saw the flecks of Kryptonite in it and remembered you trying to warn me.”
Michel stared down at the ice below their feet. “We could have died up there, Clark.”
A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the ice or the gently falling snow. “I know. I'm sorry.”
Michel's gaze snapped up to Clark's. “What? It isn't your fault!”
“I should never have asked you to—ow!” Clark rubbed at his arm, where Michel had just punched him. Maybe there were downsides to not being the only Kryptonian on earth...
“I don't regret flying up there with you,” Michel clarified. “If I had to do it all again, I would.” He leaned back a little, grabbing a large branch of the tree for support. “I blame EPRAD.”
“EPRAD?” Clark blinked in confusion.
Michel nodded. “Surely, they could have come up with a better plan than just asking you to ram into things at top speed! As fast as you are, you could have perhaps done a recon flight first, to see what exactly you would be up against!”
Clark sighed and shook his head. “There wasn't time, Michel.” At Michel's dubious look, he continued: “You remember how long it took us to reach that thing, as fast as we were going? If we had flown all the way up there right away, taken samples or studied it, and then flown back, we would have lost our window of opportunity.”
“The opportunity to smash it with our heads,” Michel grumbled.
“Yes.” Clark gave him a wry smile. “Sometimes, a problem looks like a nail because it is one.”
Michel brushed a bit of snow off his shoulders. “I suppose.”
“At least it's gone, now.” Clark stretched his legs out over the ice, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in days.
“You said Susanne has a sample?” Michel asked, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.
“Yes...” Clark grinned, sensing what was coming.
Michel turned around, nearly straddling the tree in order to face Clark fully. “How big is it? Has she analyzed it, yet? What does it look like?”
Ah, there it was! Clark couldn't stop the laugh from bubbling up. “It's about this big,” he answered, holding his hands a bit apart from each other. “She hadn't analyzed it when I left, and it looks like a dull, gray rock with shiny red and green speckles inside it.”
Michel's eyes grew huge. “Red *and* green?!” A grin threatened to consume his face. “Two colors!”
“Of Kryptonite,” Clark reminded him. When Michel continued to beam happily, he added, “*Deadly* Kryptonite!”
“So, it is a hazardous material.” Michel waved a hand dismissively, then dropped it back to the tree trunk when he started to slide off. “It's still a piece of our home, Clark.” He grinned again. “Our literal 'common ground'.”
Clark rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself.
“This makes up for the loss of my other sample!”
Clark froze, his smile vanishing as he suddenly remembered the fate of that other sample... “Michel,” he said carefully, “I think I'm going to need your help finding out what happened to that one.”
Michel squirmed uncomfortably. “The one that was stolen by agents of the U.S. government...”
“People *claiming* to be agents of the U.S. government,” Clark corrected, “shortly after someone named Phillipe found out that you had it—”
“Phillipe Boucher,” Michelle replied automatically, the merriment gone from his voice.
“—and suddenly got himself a new job in Metropolis,” Clark finished.
Michel turned around again, staring out onto the ice. “Do you suppose it has fallen into the hands of those people who kidnapped Mr. Irig during the corn festival?”
“Maybe.” Clark chewed his lip, wondering how much he should burden Michel with...
“I can sense what you're thinking,” Michel pointed out. “You might as well tell me.”
Clark sighed. “There's another possibility,” he admitted, “and I'm not sure which scenario is worse. You know Lex Luthor?”
Michel blinked at him. “The fourth richest man on the planet?”
“Third,” Clark corrected. “But yes, him.”
His companion frowned. “What about him?”
“He's very powerful, very ruthless, and would very much like to see Superman dead,” Clark replied.
Michel stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Is that all,” he deadpanned.
Clark kicked at a fresh pile of snow. “So, you see why I'm worried about it.” The snowflakes began to fall faster, as though the clouds overhead had decided to dump their entire supply here all at once. He found it in himself to smile at Michel again. “Do you think we should go find civilization?”
Michel smiled back. “Oh, you want to go back to Paris already?”
Now it was Clark's turn to hit Michel on the arm.
“Hey!” Michel laughed. “What is this? The mighty Superman, attacking a helpless geologist, completely unprovoked!”
“I was thinking somewhere closer, like Quebec,” Clark explained, his eyes dancing. “We could change clothes and grab a bite to eat before we head back to our normal lives.”
Michel nodded. “Ah, that does sound good.” He stood up from the log and began shrugging out of Clark's jacket. “You must want this super-costume back, also.”
Clark frowned, remembering the emptiness of space and the deep silence that had only been broken by the staticky words from EPRAD in his ear...and Michel's thoughts keeping him company inside his own head. The man had been under no obligation to come with him, and yet his friend had risked everything just to give him better odds.
Michel must have picked up on his thoughts, because a light blush now bloomed on his cheeks. “Clark...”
“Keep it,” Clark said, solemnly. He met Michel's eyes. “You earned it, Michel. Even if no one else knows it, you were just as much Superman that day as I was.”
His friend's mouth opened and closed, then finally, he nodded. “Thank you.” He stared down at the ice below their feet. “So...ah...Quebec, you say?”
Clark smiled and rose from the log, reaching up to remove Michel's glasses. “Yeah, there's a little diner I know in Montreal; they serve really good coffee and poutine!”
Michel laughed, handed Clark his jacket, and began working on the buttons of the shirt. “You know, I think that perhaps benefiting from your knowledge of the world's restaurants is worth the occasional hit on the head.” He paused. “Er, coffee and what?”
“Poutine,” Clark repeated, trading Michel's glasses and tie in exchange for his own. “How do you feel about fries, gravy, and cheese curds?”
“Together?!” Michel's expression almost sent Clark sprawling on the ice with laughter. “I think I would rather take another hit on the head.”
TBC
