A/N: Hoo-boy, this part took a long time. I sincerely hope it's enjoyable, and thank you all for bearing with me!
TOC is Here
Previously, on O Brother, Where Art Thou?...
Clark has befriended a French geologist named Michel, who has a face and backstory suspiciously similar to his own. Michel's parents, afraid that Clark will lure danger to their son's doorstep, have forbidden the two from associating. Despite this, the two are secretly associating. After facing Nightfall together, Clark and Michel got amnesia and switched places, and just recently got themselves sorted out again.
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And Now, Part 34It was good to finally be himself, again! Michel looked up from his coffee as the waitress returned, setting a gooey monstrosity on the table between him and Clark. “Here is your food, sirs,” she announced with that cute little Quebecois accent.
Clark smiled at her. “Thank you, Stephanie. It looks delicious!”
Michel refrained from commenting.
The waitress smiled back at Clark, showing off an adorable pair of dimples. It was a little annoying how Clark could effortlessly charm every pretty girl they came across; perhaps it was just because he was so at ease with people in general. “It's the chef's specialty,” she replied with a wink. “So, can I get you and your brother anything else? More coffee, perhaps?”
Clark's smile flickered. “Um, no thank you.”
When she finally left, Clark stared down at the “food”, not making eye-contact with him. Michel could sense Clark's feelings writhing deep below his own consciousness, but he couldn't make enough sense of them to establish a mental link. So, he resorted to words. “It was the 'brother' comment, no?”
Clark's nod was almost imperceptible as he reached into the mess between them and pulled out a soggy fry. He looked up at Michel, his brow furrowed. “*Are* we brothers?”
Michel stared at him. “One moment, please; I shall consult my crystal ball.”
That at least got a chuckle out of him. “Sorry, that was a bad question. I guess what I meant was...well...I don't know what I meant.” Clark sighed and popped the fry into his mouth. He gestured towards the dish. “Try some while it's still hot.”
With a dubious look at the gravy-drenched heap, Michel gingerly reached forward with two fingers and extracted a fry. Clark grinned at him, though whether it was meant to be teasing or encouraging, he wasn't sure. He gave the end a cautious nibble. “Oh! That is...actually not bad!” Much like the maple-sweetened coffee that Clark had insisted on, it was a surprisingly tasty combination.
“See?” Clark's grin broadened, and he grabbed a few more dripping fries out of the dish. “I guess it shouldn't matter, really, whether we're actually related or not.”
“It would explain some things, though,” Michel pointed out. He took a few more fries for himself. “For one thing, it would explain why we look so similar that even our mothers could not tell us apart.” He froze, still clutching the fries. “Er, my mother did not realize that you...er...weren't me, did she?”
“No. She just seemed to be very worried about you—me—us.” Clark shook his head.
Michel sighed with relief. “Ah. Thank goodness!” He took a bite of his fries.
“They were definitely a lot nicer than the first time I met them,” he added with a wry smile. “I don't think I cooked a single meal for myself the entire time I was in your apartment.” He paused. “What are you going to tell them, now that your memory's back?”
Michel almost choked. “Pardon?”
“Well, I get the impression that they still don't know we're hanging out together,” Clark pointed out. “Are you going to tell them that you helped me with—” He broke off, glancing around the busy diner, then lowered his voice. “—you know, that thing, up there?”
The gravy dripped from Michel's fries.
“...Michel?”
“Let us return to the 'brother' question, shall we?”
Clark frowned at him. “Michel?”
He slumped in his seat. “I don't know, Clark! Obviously, telling them what happened is out of the question, but I don't want to lie to them either!”
“Why *don't* you just tell them?” Clark asked.
Michel shook his head furiously. “Impossible! They would be livid!”
Clark rolled his eyes at him. Despite apparently spending the past couple of days in their company, he clearly didn't understand. “So, that just leaves lying, then.”
“Also impossible.” Michel sighed. “They're my parents, Clark! They raised me! It's bad enough that I'm here at all, against their wishes.”
“So, what are you going to do, then?” Clark asked. “Just keep stalling?”
Michel hesitated. “...Yes?”
Clark frowned. “You can't just keep stalling.”
“Very well.” Michel heaved a sigh and nibbled at his fries, thinking over the problem. “All right, I think I know what to do,” he decided at last. “I will tell them that I was studying a sample of Kr—er, the meteorite, yes? And I was briefly exposed to it. This is absolutely true.”
His companion raised an eyebrow at him. “You're talking about the sample that was stolen?”
“The very same.” Michel nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Of course, this radioactive substance is what caused my malady.”
“I thought you said you didn't want to lie,” Clark said, looking at him askance.
Michel held up one finger. “Ah, but it is not a lie!” He beamed. “You said that Susanne's sample of the asteroid contained traces of Kr—er, of the substance, yes? It is one and the same.”
Clark seemed to consider this. “Good point,” he conceded. “That could work. I still think you should tell them, though.”
“I...” Michel squirmed, dragging a fry through a puddle of melted curds. “I just...I can't do it, all right?” The very thought of it gave him palpitations. What had happened to him, anyway? He used to be a good son. Now, here he was, sneaking around behind his parents' backs and being goaded into open defiance! And for what? Fries with curds and gravy?!
“Michel?”
His eyes snapped up to Clark's.
A worried frown creased Clark's forehead. “Are you okay?”
Michel shrugged. “Yes, I'm fine,” he fibbed.
“I can sense what you're thinking,” Clark said with a wry smile. “You might as well tell me.”
He let out a sigh. “I suppose I am just...unsure of what I am, anymore,” Michel admitted.
Clark reached forward and placed a hand on his arm. “You're my friend.”
**********
Clark landed on his balcony, drinking in the familiar sounds of Metropolis before striding into his apartment. He could see his parents' luggage in the corner, though they themselves were absent. Perhaps they had gone shopping? He'd probably see them once he officially came home from work, in which case he hoped they could tell him why one of his curtains was missing.
He set his new coffee mug on the kitchen counter. Michel had been downright gleeful when they found out the diner sold them. Clark had to admit, its patriotic declaration of “I Remember” was very apropos.
Michel's “crystal ball” comment still echoed in his head. He went to his bedroom and retrieved the box that held his globe. It was certainly the closest thing he had to a crystal ball; he picked it up, watching as its colors changed from Earth to Krypton once more.
'Krypton' it spoke into his mind.
“What else can you tell me?” he whispered.
The globe remained silent.
TBC...
