Continued from:
Chapter 13 A/N: Special thanks to my Beta, Morgana, who has been helping me throughout this story ^_^.
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[CHAPTER 14 - Recall]
Mav made his way up the stairs, his hand pausing briefly over the imprints Kal-El had made on the railing with his fingers when his amazing eyesight had been out of control.
He wasn't sure what to think about the letter in his grasp, but he couldn't keep it to himself. When Leia had given it to him with skeptical optimism, he initially assumed it was a hoax. A hateful, cruel hoax.
But then, what if it wasn't?
He really hoped it wasn't.
They could really use a break.
He stopped at the door and knocked.
"Come in," Kal replied.
Mav entered and found Kal speed reading through yet another stack of newspapers.
"Everything alright?" Kal-El asked, looking up and revealing a fairly dark five o’clock shadow.
"Yes, but you just got a letter I believe you should see sooner rather than later,” he said, going to him and holding out the letter.
Kal-El took it curiously.
“It was priority mail. The return address is an office depot across town,” Mav quickly informed him as he pulled out the sheet and unfolded it.
He blinked, quickly taking in the typed words before him.
Son,
We are writing to you while knowing you do not remember us, but we could not remain silent on the likelihood of you not knowing how to control your abilities. We know we are taking a risk, but your wellbeing is more important than our own. Outlined below are your abilities and how to control each.
Super-hearing: concentrate on a single, steady sound, such as a heartbeat. When you were younger, I had you put your hand on my neck to feel my pulse and that allowed you to gain control.
X-Ray Vision: You can’t see through lead. Use that to limit yourself and practice.
.
.
.Kal looked up at that, gripping the bottom corner tightly.
"Who else has read this?" he asked.
"Just myself and Leia. All of our volunteers sign ironclad privacy agreements, but Leia reiterated to me that she wouldn't tell anyone about the letter."
Kal-El nodded his thanks, his eyes returning to the page.
"You believe it is genuine then?" Mav asked softly after a moment.
Quietly, Kal answered. "Yes. No one would have been able to correctly guess half of this."
“Shall I discreetly ask Henderson. . . .” Mav trailed off. He wasn’t sure if Kal wanted to try to find out who had sent this letter. There were pros and cons to both options.
“No. I’m not seeing any fingerprints anyway,” he said, squinting at the page with some effort before shaking his head. “They must have been very careful.”
"Shall I call Dr. Klein? He might be able to help you implement some of the methods listed," Mav suggested.
"Sure, it couldn't hurt, especially since razors no longer work for me,” he said before looking down at the letter again.
.
.
.
Flight: You once explained that it is mental more than anything, willing yourself to float or move despite gravity. You said it does take some physical effort, but it's mainly an internal strain that is most comparable to reaching for something.The memory hit hard and fast, and the sense of exhilaration tore through him stronger than anything he could remember.
He was above the clouds, weaving in and around them, above and through them, freer than a bird and faster than any car. The land rushed under him, blue water and green fields among dots of buildings and vehicles. He laughed as he shot forward, releasing the crack of a sonic boom."Kal-El?" Mav asked, breaking him from his memory.
"I think I can fly now. Call Daitch and ask him what exactly Prometheus needs. Don't make any promises yet, but I want to know what is needed to keep her in orbit," Kal said, quickly deciding on a possible course of action.
"Alright, I’ll contact Dr. Klein and Dr. Daitch. Anything else?" Mav asked, hopeful upon seeing a glimmer of the old, decisive Kal-El.
“No. Thank you, Mav,” Kal said. “I think I’ll try some of what the letter suggests.”
Mav nodded his understanding before heading out.
O o O o O
Lois was nearing disbelief. For some time she knew the Boss had been involved in a lot of horrible activities and orchestrated most of the substantial organized crimes in Metropolis, but this was beyond anything she had imagined.
Everything from drugs, prostitution, the cyborg fighters to even the smart kid serum, Lex Luthor had had a part in all of it. Nigel St. John had been arrested and the British government was in the process of working out the extradition of the old man with the United States. The cases being solved just kept on coming and there was no end in sight, with the number of arrests climbing into the hundreds.
And the evidence from Kent had been beyond helpful. Henderson was still making arrests thanks to his intel coupled with recently found information. The PI was a force to be reckoned with and she couldn’t help but wish the man was around so she could ask how he managed to do what he had on his own.
Liam Price, the mole within EPRAD who had been a former assistant to the late Dr. Baines and part of the Launch and Telemetry System crew of the Asgard rocket for EPRAD, was singing like a canary.
His testimony would be yet another nail in Luthor's coffin. Apparently, the billionaire had arranged for Baines' death (as suggested by Kent's investigation) and had ordered Price to sabotage the Asgard.
"Lois! Got that article on Price yet?" White bellowed.
"Sending now, Chief!" she answered, pushing down on the key and picking up her briefcase.
She wanted to pay EPRAD another visit.
O o O o O
Klein sat down on the couch, deciding pacing outside the bathroom door would be rude and possibly distracting.
It seemed that Kal was getting the hang of his abilities, which, putting it lightly, was very fortunate. He just might be able to help Prometheus out before it was too late. Daitch should be getting back to them soon.
"OUCH!"
Klein scrambled off the couch and hurried to the bathroom door.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Bernard asked, hesitating even as his hand wrapped around the door handle.
"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Just nicked myself a bit. I--oh! It just healed,” Superman said from the other side.
Klein really wanted to see for himself but didn’t dare open the door while Kal-El could still be using his heat vision.
Suddenly, the door opened and Superman stepped out, now his clean-shaven self.
"There. That's done now," he said, very pleased.
"So, what do you think about this power? Easy to control? Is it difficult to maintain focus?" Klein asked, seeking whatever insight he may be able to get that may help him understand how it works.
"Hm, it’s easier than it was. One thing I noticed is that the laser’s focus increases without any conscious effort on my part. It’s how I burned myself. I have to pull back the strength after about twenty seconds.”
“When things settle, I’d like to have you experiment a bit if that’s okay. My current guess is that this focus has something to do with the energy in your eyes stabilizing, but until we investigate it’s only a theory,” Klein said, doing his best to keep his excitement in check.
“I think that’s a good idea. Any word from Daitch?” Kal asked.
“Not yet, but--” he stopped as Julie suddenly came up from the stairs.
“Sorry for interrupting,” she said, “But Dr. Daitch just called from EPRAD. He’s on line one.”
“Oh, thanks,” Kal said, quickly going over to the nearby phone and picking it up. “Dr. Daitch? This is Superman.”
Klein and Julie watched as Kal quietly listened before nodding.
“I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up the phone and looked at Julie. “Please schedule a press conference. Before I leave, I’ll give you my statement to read.”
“So you’re going to EPRAD?” Klein asked.
“Yes. Apparently Prometheus has less time than they previously thought. Their most recent communications they’ve managed to have with the ground crew have revealed that systems that should have been regulating power consumption were not online due to the electromagnetic pulse and the majority of their solar panels were destroyed by the pulse so nothing has been recharging. . . .”
“How much time do they actually have?” Klein asked.
“Instead of two days, they have less than one. They believe the decaying orbit will be unrecoverable in a few hours. The other issue is the micro-meteoroid and orbital debris. At the lower elevations the chances of being hit by something goes up, and since they can’t move out of the way - assuming they successfully detect any substantial objects - it’s a serious concern.”
“I’ll have Howard pull up a car around the side,” Julie said, deciding their head of security would be the best for the job.
“No, I just need a map so I know where to go. I think I should fly there. It’s faster and I need the practice,” Kal correctly gently but confidently.
“Give me five minutes and you’ll have the directions,” Julie said with a smile.
He had the marked map in two minutes.
O o O o O
The sonic boom rocked over Metropolis, startling many people before instilling a spark of hope and excitement.
There could only be one cause for that sound within city limits.
Superman landed a little heavily, leaving a cluster of hairline fractures on the pavement in front of the main doors of EPRAD, but didn’t pause as he followed Dr. Daitch’s instructions to immediately go in and make his way up to the balcony.
He could answer any questions from the Press after he had returned.
“Superman! Thank you for coming so quickly. Now you’re sure you’re up for this?” Daitch asked as a group of technicians and scientists came up beside him, along with General Robert Zeitlin.
“Yes. I’m not 100% yet, but my doctor and I feel I am well enough for this,” Superman assured them, glad they didn't seem too perturbed by his attire.
Even though he had seen pictures and videos of himself wearing the red and blue, he couldn't help but feel a little self conscious. After all, most of his uniform had less than two millimeters of material separating his bare skin from the outside world.
“Very well. The astronauts up there have already started spacewalk preparations so by the time you get up there, they’ll be able to start the EVA,” Daitch said. “We have everything needed in Bay 4, including your gear. As I mentioned before, you’ll likely need to take three to four trips. There’s a lot of electronics that need to be replaced.”
“Alright. As long as I know where to go and how to get back, delivering the equipment shouldn’t be a problem,” he said as he followed Daitch and his team, ignoring the chatter his ears suddenly picked up beyond the doors.
O o O o O
Amy Platt nervously looked out the window as her mother and the other colonists hurried throughout the space station.
EPRAD was preparing to send them replacement parts to repair the station, or at least that is what she had managed to overhear. She wasn't sure what had taken so long for EPRAD to realize they needed help, but even now that help was coming she could tell the adults were still concerned.
Their orbit may not be recovered in time.
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the far end of the station, where the radio and other communication systems were.
“Oh, thank heavens!”
“Kraig and his men are ready to go out, right?” someone asked.
“Yeah, they're suited up. I’m glad we went ahead and prepared, even though we hadn’t been sure,” another answered.
Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, movement on the other side of the window.
"Superman!" she shouted excitedly.
The external lights on the station illuminated the surrounding area with the Earth as the backdrop. Currently, the station was in Earth's shadow.
And there, with a large box in his arms, was Superman with a space helmet and vest. She noted his lack of cape with some surprise before realizing it would be too cumbersome with the air tank and other equipment he had on.
People clamored behind her to look out as well while a voice over the intercom announced preparation to open the docking bay.
Before too long, he disappeared around the side and then returned without the box. She stared as he turned and his form became smaller and smaller, returning back to Earth.
There were shouts of joy as quick directions were given. She was giddy with relief and excitement.
Superman was helping them himself!
Amy’s nose was practically glued to the glass, waiting for Superman to return. He did eight minutes later, this time with a crate.
"He's helping Kraig's team remove the damaged thruster panels and we should be able to regain orbit within an hour," her mom said behind her.
O o O
Kraig Levian managed to keep his focus on the task at hand, although all he wanted to do was stare at the man -Kryptonian?- flying around the space station under his own power.
They were halfway done with the most serious repairs, but he was growing nervous despite that. They were getting closer to the region heavy with orbital debris. Although he was now confident they would be able to recover their orbit in time, the question on if they would suffer any impacts weighed heavily on his mind.
"Colonel Levian?" Superman's voice came from his helmet's radio.
"Yes?" Kraig did his best to maneuver himself so he could face Superman, but fortunately he didn’t need to try too hard since Superman floated in front of him when he noticed his difficulty.
"I've completed installing the last panel on that side," Superman said.
Even though he knew Superman had 'super speed', knowing that the thrusters on the starboard side were ready to go so quickly was still hard to believe -- granted, everything about the guy was unbelievable.
"Thank you, Superman. As soon as I finish this one, my team and I will return to the station and we'll fire those thrusters," he said into his helmet radio.
He returned his attention back to connecting the remaining cables as sunlight began to crest around the curve of the Earth, lighting up the far edge of Prometheus and, from the corner of his eye, bathing Superman in golden light.
"Superman, this is EPRAD Control. Everything okay?” Kraig heard through his helmet, and he wondered for a split second why they had communicated on the shared com instead of simply talking to Superman directly, but then realized maybe they wanted him to hear.
“Yes. Why?” Superman asked.
“How do you feel? Your vitals just spiked and your temperature---” EPRAD trailed off uncertainly.
“I feel fine, better than when I left actually. I’m in sunlight now, that must be why,” he said, now looking at his bare hands in the yellow glow of Sol.
"That must be it. Your vitals have stabilized and now match what they had been during the start of the Nightfall mission. Okay, what is the status of the repairs?" Control asked, deciding to move on with the matter at hand.
“Just completed,” Keith answered with a glance at Superman who was still examining his hands. “Team Alpha, let’s head back inside,” he said, addressing his team.
Superman looked up and smiled as he gave a quick, two fingered salute. “I’ll pull back and stay out of the way,” he said.
O o O
Mayson set down one of the several files on what was likely to be the case of the century.
Lex Luthor was currently detained in the high security prison just outside the city. Every single guard in the wing had been cleared personally by herself, General Zeitlin, or someone they unequivocally knew could be trusted. He was watched by two guards 24/7 and all food was prepared and tested for contaminants/poisons in front of another guard before said guard took it to Luthor. They were not going to allow the scumbag to escape, either physically or through suicide.
She rubbed her eyes, her thoughts wandering.
When would Clark be back in town? Had he heard about Luthor? Surely he had. It was international news. But why hadn't he called? She wished he had been there when they brought Luthor in. A great deal of his work was going to be responsible for putting the immensely evil man away. Although that's assuming there was anything left over after the international court was through with him, especially when the death penalty was already being discussed in certain circles.
Personally, she didn't care what his final fate was, as long as Justice was served, which meant him facing every single charge upon him and the truth being displayed for all the world to see. His victims deserved that at the very least, recent and distant past.
Mayson shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that Superman was one of those victims.
Well, at least he seemed to be doing better. He had managed to help Prometheus recover her orbit after thwarting Luthor again.
What a sick, perverted man.
O o O o O
Kal woke up to the sound of cars driving outside the Foundation. It was early and, stretching his senses, he knew none of the volunteers had arrived yet and only the security guards and Julie were in the building.
The previous day had been intense and it hadn’t been hard to retire to his room for the remainder of the day after giving the press a quick wave and an honest statement of needing to turn in due the orders of his persistent doctor. The reporters laughed and asked no further questions from him.
Standing up, Kal glanced over at his desk. The letter from his apparent adopted family -- his mom and dad -- was still on the surface.
He had checked for fingerprints the first time he had read it but hadn’t seen any - at least none not belonging to Leia or Mav. He went over and picked the letter up again and looked it over.
He sighed as he proved to himself once again that there were no fingerprints and no trace of --
Wait.
What was that?
He put it down and leaned over, peering at it firmly.
Indentations. Very faint, almost undetectable. It was as if the page had been under a stack of papers someone had then written on. He could see lines and curves -- no. They were letters.
Squinting, he strained to make them out while hoping he wouldn’t accidentally activate his heat vision.
Son,
344 Clinton Street
Love,
MomHe sat down in the chair and gripped the page as tightly as he dared. If there had been any doubt about whether the people who had sent him this letter were legit or not, it was gone now. Only someone with intimate knowledge of his abilities would have left him a message in this way, clearly in the hope he would rediscover it in his examination of the letter. So now he needed to decide what he should do next.
It didn't take him long to decide.
He called down to the Foundation's main office.
"Julie, it's Kal. I've just come across something and I'm going to check it out. I think it'll help with my memories but I don't know how long I'll be."
"Okay, Kal. Mav and I'll take care of the press if they inquire. Take as long as you need, but keep your pager on you in case we need to get ahold of you," she said.
"Will do, thank you," he said.
He changed and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He didn't want people to recognize him so what could he do?
Fortunately, Mav had been kind enough to get him a few sets of clothes after the bomb had ruined his first. Two were close to the original and included his family crest, while the third was more formal and lacked his emblem. He chose the formal one and quickly buttoned the front and fixed the collar. He then messed up his hair, hoping the tousled-do would provide a sufficient disguise. He wasn't going to be out in public for long, just long enough to walk to the address from the nearest deserted alley, so hopefully it wouldn't matter anyway.
Taking a map Julie had provided him the day before, he searched the street names, assuming the address was in Metropolis -- why else would his . . . mom not specify the city?
He found it quickly and barely restrained himself when he then left the Foundation from the roof and shot across the city. Taking to the air, he managed to remind himself to fly slow enough not to cause a sonic boom and high enough to stay out of sight in the clouds.
He was going to get answers very soon.
He could feel it.
O o O o O
Martha looked at the clock again as the muted television continued to display the news behind her.
Would Clark find the message, and, if he did, would he come?--assuming he even received the letter to begin with.
"He got the letter," Jonathan said randomly.
She wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
"You know how much he trusts Mav and spoke well of Julie. Maybe he just hasn't noticed the message yet," he continued, filling the silence more than assuring.
Maybe he hadn't believed the letter and thought it was from some sick fraud so had ignored it.
If that was the case, hopefully he hadn't asked the FBI to find out who had sent it, believing someone was trying to take advantage of him -- which was why they had been so careful about not leaving anything that could be traced back to them.
She sighed, wondering if the information about his powers had been helpful to him at all, no matter how he may have perceived it.
He was flying again, which was certainly good, but what about his other powers?
They had contacted Burton and, though there wasn't anything he could risk doing at the moment, he promised to provide them with any assistance he could that would not endanger their secret to the world. Martha and Jonathan both appreciated his caution and understood it wasn't just for their sake, but for the nation's.
If the world or even certain government officials learned about the fact that a high ranking member of the U.S. military (who once ran Bureau 39!) had had contact with Kal-El prior to his debut and hadn't reported it, things would get dicey very quickly.
They could not risk disrupting the positive relationship Superman had with the world. Maybe one day the world would be more understanding of such a secret, but not now. If it came out now, it would be viewed as a break in sacred trust.
A knock on the door broke her from her thoughts and Jonathan's ceaseless pacing, before both quickly rushed to the door.
The door was suddenly open and it took all Martha had to stop herself from crying out in relief.
“Uh, hello,” her son said uncertainly.
“Come in, son, come in,” Jonathan quickly ushered before closing the door after Clark stepped in.
Martha and Jonathan both clasped their hands in front of themselves, wanting to hug him but instantly hesitating when they saw how uncomfortable and nervous he was.
“We’re relieved to see you, Clark,” Jonathon said, not sure what else to say as he took in his sharp, tan slacks, black dress shirt, and his lack of eye glasses.
Clark startled, no doubt surprised by the name and loving tone used.
“Let’s go sit down,” Martha said, carefully leading the way to the living room couch.
“Okay,” he said, taking a brief moment to look around.
They sat down, all of them anxious.
"We weren't sure if you would get our message, but we had to try," Martha said, fiddling with her hands, wanting to reach out to him but uncertain of his state of mind.
Right now, he wasn't quite her son. He was Kal-El, hero to the world, with all the expectations that came with it. Not Clark Kent, P.I. and Air Force veteran -- their son.
"I'm glad you did. It was . . . helpful," Clark said before taking a deep breath. "So, I take it you're my adopted parents?"
"Yes. I'm Martha and this is Jonathan. Here, why don't we start from the beginning," she said, getting up.
She quickly retrieved a photo album from the packed bookshelf and then sat back down next to him with Jonathan on his other side.
She opened the album to the first page, revealing a photo of their farm house with Jonathan and herself standing in front of it.
"We live in Smallville, Kansas, which is where we found and raised you," she said, turning to the second page.
"You found me?" he asked, a million questions suddenly surging up in his eyes.
"Your spaceship crash landed in Shuster's Field. At first we thought it was a meteor, but then found you. You were about three months old. Absolutely adorable."
"Three months? I thought I came here a little older," he said, amazed as he looked down and saw what he assumed was himself in the arms of the couple sitting beside him.
"This is the first picture we took together as a family," Jonathan said, no doubt recalling the wondrous feeling of that day. "This was taken on the steps of the court house, the day you were officially ours."
"So, I have a birth certificate and everything? I'm an American citizen?" Clark asked, astonished.
"We kept you in secret for about a month to ensure your arrival didn't coincide with the crash. We did hide the ship and impact but didn't know if anyone else had seen it -- more on that later -- and when we called the police and reported that you were left on our front porch, we started the adoption process," Martha summarized, unable to voice the fear and worry they had experienced during that time. Doing so would likely give way to tears.
Jonathan nodded. "Thankfully, the judge was a family friend and got everything squared away quickly."
"So . . . I have a normal life?" Clark asked in wonder, almost beyond words, no doubt having believed such a thing was impossible for him.
Martha wanted to cry as she instantly placed her hand over his. "Oh, Clark."
"Clark, this is your apartment," Jonathan said, seeing Martha’s tearful expression.
Clark quickly looked around with much more interest than before. He slowly stood up, causing Martha and Jonathan to stand as well. Clark’s eyes scanned the whole room, taking in the furniture, photos and art on the walls. He went to the wall covered in bookshelves bearing a plethora of books. All of this was his.
"You've been here for almost a year. You're a private investigator and focus on finding missing persons. You've solved hundreds of cases from all around the world," Jonathan explained as he locked eyes when him. "When you're not Superman, you're Clark Kent, our son."
Jonathan finally lost his composure and pulled him into a hug, album forgotten as Martha quickly joined the hug.
At first Clark was stiff, stunned, but after a moment he calmed and took a deep breath.
Peace rose within her. Things were going to be okay. They were with him and --
Jonathan suddenly grunted and it took Martha a split second to realize why. Clark had gone completely limp.
“Clark?!” Martha gasped.
“Help me lower him!” Jonathan cried, barely managing to keep him up right as he began slipping from his arms.
They were halfway down to the floor when Clark’s eyes snapped open and he stood up, helping them both back to their feet. Breathing heavily, he beamed at them, although not as carefree as she might have hoped.
“I remember Smallville. I remember the farm,” he said.
“Your memory’s back?” Jonathan asked, hoping.
“I don’t remember much after leaving Smallville after high school, but now that I know this much can return, why can’t the rest?”
They hugged him again.
“Let’s take you back to Smallville. Maybe that will help. We can show you your ship and all of the rest. And I’m sure Burton will want to see you,” Martha said, so relieved.
“Burton?”
“He’s a General. You helped him with a long term case. Long story,” Martha explained.
“Well, I have time, Mom,” Clark returned with a grin.
O o O
Smallville hadn't seemed to be much different than what he could recall, which was something since he thought something should be notably different after ten years, but maybe that's just how small towns operate.
What did come as a shock to him was the fact he was a former Air Force officer, but that was a far second to the effectiveness of a pair of glasses as a disguise.
"You sure no one is going to notice?" he asked as they pulled up to his parents' house.
Martha laughed. "Clark, you've been Clark to them for your whole life. Many of the people in town watched you grow up. Even imagining you as anyone else would be like them imagining I'm the Queen of England. It just isn't something that would enter their thoughts -- as long as they don't see you do anything super."
"I'll be careful," Clark promised.
"You always have been," Jonathan assured. "Now, Burton is on his way here, but before he arrives, I figured we could show you your ship."
"Definitely," Clark said, eager.
"Come on, it's near the barn," Jonathan said.
Clark gave him a disbelieving look, but Jonathan was already leading the way.
They stopped behind the barn in front of a tiny shed holding simple farmer's tools.
"Trick entrance. Even if someone were to scan the ground with fancy equipment, they would just think what's below is part of the barn's foundation and cellar. They'd have to do a thorough check to realize there's actually a room down here," Jonathan explained, going to the back corner and lifting a well hidden trap door. "Burton confirmed the effectiveness of it all after you built it."
"Very nice," Clark said, impressed as they went down.
Jonathan turned on a flashlight he had pulled from the wall and aimed it.
The chamber was very small, but it was enough to hold the craft and have two of them stand before it, although Martha had to remain on the stairs.
"The globe is back here with the crystal I told you about. You felt it was safer here than at your apartment," Jonathan said, indicating a shelf in the corner.
Clark ran his hand over the blue edge and inscription. "
'Behold Kal-El the Noble of Krypton, born from the House of Lo and into the House of El'," Clark read before placing his hand on the hand sized imprint beside it.
"Your parents didn't outright say, but it seems you're betrothed to someone from the House of Ra. Someone named Zara. And from what we were able to discern, your mother didn't quite agree. Or at least that's I inferred, since she pointblank said you don't owe any of your people anything," Martha said, sounding very much that she agreed with his mother while deciding not to comment on Clark's re-found ability to read Kryptonian.
"Well, Burton has likely made it in town and is driving to the house by now," Jonathan said.
"Okay. I do want to hear more about who I am before learning about all of this anyway," Clark admitted, waving his hand toward the blue, space-faring cradle and globe beyond.
“I’ll start fixing dinner,” Martha said as they entered the farmhouse. “I hope frozen pizza is alright for everyone.”
“That’s fine, honey. I’ll run to the store tomorrow,” Jonathan said.
Less than ten minutes later, Burton Newcomb arrived and was invited in by Jonathan. Clark stood back, not quite sure what to say to the man.
He was not what he expected.
He looked to be more like a grandfather than a General who oversaw top secret government investigations and operations.
"It's good to see you, Clark,” he said, moving past Jonathan. “I understand you don’t remember me quite yet, but feel free to ask anything you wish.” The tone of Burton’s voice was gruff, but there was plain compassion and concern within.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Burton, please. You've been a friend for years, there's no need to be so formal," Burton assured, heartily shaking his hand.
Clark blinked and tilted his head, his eyes going vacant for a long moment.
“Clark?” Burton asked as Jonathan approached in concern.
“There’s something that can hurt me?” he asked suddenly.
“Just remembered that?” Burton asked, quickly coming to the most logical conclusion.
“Yes,” he said with a frown.
“All of it is secured in Cheyenne Mountain. No one but those within this house knows what it really is and what it can do,” Burton said plainly.
Clark exhaled, shaking away the brief memory of pain and disorientation.
"That's a relief,” he said as Martha came in with news that the pizza was ready.
O o O o O
Lois turned off the television as Director Ervin left the podium after informing the world that Superman would be gone for an undetermined amount of time in hopes of recovering his memories but kept a means of contact in case of emergencies.
Considering everything, she felt the crowd and reporters handled it well and were very understanding. Granted, knowing he could be called if something happened was reassuring. Which got her wondering. How long would it be before Luthor's first court date? Would Kal be needed to testify? The recording of the Nightfall mission was pretty damning and stood on its own. What else would Kal be able to add? Bringing further attention to the seriousness of the accusations by being present at the proceedings made a bit of sense, but beyond that?
She hoped he would be back and fully recovered soon, but if he had to be away for a longer period of time to get all of his memories back, so be it. She just wished he had left her a way to contact him directly.
O o O o O
Kal, or Clark rather, sat down on the bed. He was still in Smallville and just finished a nice long evening with his folks and Burton, discussing his life well past 2 am.
He was tired and ready to sleep.
And yet he wasn’t.
His thoughts kept straying to the globe and crystal his parents had mentioned.
He stood up, admitting to himself that he wasn't going to be able to sleep until he had at least seen his father's messages.
Jimmy, thanks to Lois, had procured him the recording of the committee meeting where he had presented the globe to the world, but he knew there was more. His parents had confirmed his suspicions.
He closed his eyes and listened, quickly identifying the sound of his parents sleeping soundly and Burton sleeping in the guest bedroom.
Pushing away the slight feeling of guilt of not waiting until his parents woke later that morning, he silently left the house and made his way to the shed behind the barn.
Not bothering with the flashlight hanging from the nail on the shelf, he swiftly cut to the back of the shed and lifted the trap door before descending into one of the greatest secrets on the planet.
He trailed his hand along the edge of the ship as he went straight to the back shelf draped with a thick cloth and holding the sphere of deep blue and molten red with the small, plain crystal shard beside it. His right shoulder brushed the wall as he picked up the crystal. It was cool to the touch and was heavier than it looked. Rolling it to the center of his palm, he closed his hand and reached for the globe.
He planned on taking them to his room and trying to get the globe to work there; however, as soon as his hand closed around the sphere, light erupted.
All sensation vaporized with a pulse of raw power, however, it did not originate from the globe or the crystal, but from Clark himself.
He collapsed into a heap on the floor. The globe rolled from his hand and stopped under the ship as the light slowly faded.
.
.
.
“Clark!”
Martha charged down the stairs with Jonathan on her heels the instant her flashlight fell on his form.
Squeezing between the ship and the wall, she knelt over his form.
"Clark?" she asked again before glancing back at Jonathan as he began to stir.
"Mom?" he asked.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He smiled at her and slowly sat up, his eyes bright. "I remember . . . everything."
O o O
Clark stepped into the precinct, officers and attorneys bustling throughout.
“Kent! Glad to see you back in town!” Henderson shouted over the conversations around.
Many people looked over and gave him appraising and appreciative looks, knowing he was the reason why they were busy with so many cases involving Luthor.
"Yeah, just got back. Sorry I missed all the action last week," he said as Henderson led the way to his office.
"No problem. You did most of the work for us anyway, so you just missed the excitement," Henderson said as Clark closed the door.
"Is there anything left for me?" he asked good naturedly.
"Not a whole lot on the immediate front, although I'm sure some people will want to talk to you before Luthor's trial, including Lois Lane. Anyway, we've been fielding questions from dozens of governments. That man had his hands in more things than I ever thought possible, and though I never doubted your work, I must admit I was hoping you were wrong about some of your suspicions and findings."
"Believe me, I wish I was wrong about a few things too," Clark said, recalling some of the even more shady aspects of LexCorp. "How far does it go?”
"Safe houses are being found around the world for him. He would have been on par with Superman for flight risk if we hadn't had an ironclad case preventing bail from being an option." Henderson shook his head, still in disbelief. "Fortunately, the world governments are working with us on the investigation. Everyone, no matter their nationality, is concerned about Superman and disgusted by what Luthor did and wants to help in every way they can."
"So no turf wars?" Clark asked, a little surprised.
"Not as much as I had expected. FBI and CIA agents have beat their chests a few times, but considering how much evidence was brought to light through your work, and thus through the Police Department, we're holding our own and we're all actually working quite well. Granted, that's in part due to Mayson working so well with General Zeitlin. He's been given oversight privileges of all things Luthor, even working within the UN."
"Has the trial date been set?" Clark asked.
"End of next month. The U.S. and U.N. have agreed to hold all charges against him in one court of law -- International Court. Things are too interwoven not to bring everything out in the open at once."
Clark's eyebrows rose.
"Yeah, I know, we're in for a long trial, but overall this will be much faster," Henderson said. "And it's a heck of a lot safer."
"Worried about an escape attempt?" Clark asked.
"Yeah, but there's also the reality that a great amount of people just want him dead now and don't understand the need for due process."
"That is an unfortunate truth," Clark admitted.
"The death penalty is obviously on the table, but before that likely outcome, I want the entire truth to get out there," Henderson continued.
"Couldn't agree more," Clark said. “So, what’s the next step?”
“Well, I’ve been working on a list,” he said, pulling out a notebook from his desk and handing it to Clark. “So far, these are the people we’ve arrested due to evidence collected within the last week linking them to Luthor’s illegal activities. I’d like you to take a look and add anything you feel would help those proceedings.”
“Alright. I’ll start right away,” Clark assured.
“Thanks, Clark,” Bill said, looking more relaxed than he had a minute prior.
Back to work.
O o O o O
Clark decided he would wait a bit before Superman would return to the Foundation and inform them his memories had all returned. Taking his parents' advice, he decided he could use a little bit of time reacclimating to his 'normal' life before getting all back in.
It had nearly been a full week since his visit to Smallville and the world was slowly recovering from the upheaval that had resulted from Nightfall and Luthor's exposure.
Unfortunately, he still hadn't had the chance to meet with Lois Lane. Granted, a part of him was relieved, if only because he wasn’t sure if she would manage to recognize him and he wasn’t sure how he felt about her figuring it out or being unable to see through his deception.
Admittedly, he wasn’t sure who was pretend -- or if any of them were. Aspects of his core existed in all three, well, two. Superman and Kal-El were more or less the same identity, but Clark. . . . Clark was so much more and yet less.
However, since regaining his memory, he knew one thing: He needed to be Kal-El as much as he needed to be Clark.
He could not be whole otherwise.
Entering his apartment, he turned on the television, preparing to wind down and call it a night. Unfortunately, what he saw on the news channel instantly changed his mind.
A sonic boom roared overhead.
O o O o O
--End of first Act
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