Okay, um, this is kind of a vignette that gives a glimpse into a story I might someday write. I guess that makes it a teaser which doubles as a stand-alone? Anyway, it's a concept I've been toying with for a while...
It's unbetaed, and I think it's probably got a lot of...well, you may have many reasons to complain. I accept all your complaints, and invite any and all suggestions/comments/tomatoes you might have. No rotten vegetables though, please.
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Remember...Had to...remember...Not Insane.
Drugs. The drugs.
Tempus.
Couldn't think straight...brain was like a rabbit caught in a circle, up and down, up and down...
Drugs.
Kryptonite. The Kryptonite.
Had to remember...Had to think....
Escape...Sleep....Remember...
Tempus.
**********
Tempus. He'd heard the stories his parents had told him, but for some reason, he was mildly surprised to discover they were true. Even so, there he was, in the flesh, laughing at some sick joke only he knew about.
The emergency had been a ruse, of course. The warehouse was obviously some kind of trap; he could see that now. Tempus laughed as he aproached, and suddenly, Jon felt a wave of pain wash over him. The whole world seem to suddenly blaze a brilliant green. Jon staggered back, trying to stay on his feet. He tried to focus, despite the eruption of a thousand fire-crackers in his head.
"Really, Junior. You just aren't worth the pages they gave you in the history books." Tempus stepped closer, and the thunder in Jon's head grew louder. "Too flawed to be a hero, too wimpy to be a rebel, not to mention incredibly stupid..." He was standing right in front of him now. Jon tried to back away, but Tempus grabbed the edge of his red cape and pulled him forward. "Did you know that in Utopian history books, they just say you married very young? They don't really say why. I always thought that if I came here, it would be too late to put an end to you sickening Supermans..."
"Tempus," Jon groaned, "whatever you're...up to...HG Wells...will stop you...like always."
Tempus carried on as if he didn't even hear him. "But now I see it: Daddy Duck gets killed in action on a routine day of being Superduck. Impressionable young Mommy Duck panics, and when impressionable, younger baby-duckling says he wants to be a Superduck, she pecks him on the head. Oh, and here's the beauty of it!" A malevolent grin spread across Tempus' face. "Little Mommy Duck is a grieving widow, Gampy and Gammy Duck are depressed about out-living their only darling duckling, and Little Baby Duckling is a traumatized orphan! The whole family goes south, and Utopia goes with them! It's Egg-Straordinary!"
Jon shook his head, which made it throb even harder. He fought the urge to throw up. "You're crazy," he finally gasped.
Tempus looked even more viscious and gleeful, if that were possible. "I'm not crazy. You are!" Tempus moved suddenly, and Jon felt a sharp jab in his arm. He let out an agonized yell, which was drowned out by Tempus' laughter. "Oh, I just *love* irony!"
There was a blinding flash. Jon could no longer feel the kryptonite, but for some reason, he felt incredibly groggy. The warehouse disappeared, replaced by some kind of...office? Jon fought to keep his eyes open. There was a woman in an old-fashioned nurse's uniform standing there, smiling at them, walking toward them. He was shoved forward.
"Take care of him, El; he's one sick puppy. Crazy as a loon!"
Loon...? What on earth was going on? "I'm not Crazy," he managed to say.
The nurse looked at him and smiled. "Oh, but you *are* crazy, dear. You are very crazy, and Auntie Elena is going to take good care of you for the rest of your life."
Run! His mind commanded. His legs wouldn't obey, though. He tried to clench a fist, maybe to try to hit one of them, but the world went softly black.
**********
Crazy.
Had to remember...Not Insane...Remember...No matter what they say...
...Say...
Oh Say can you seee, by the dawn's early li-i-ight!
Stop. Had to stop. Had to think straight.
Had to get out.
Drugs.
Tempus.
Nurse in on it.
No hope. No help. No hope.
He was a duck. No one believed him. Daddy Duck. Curse Tempus... No hope. No Help. No....Footsteps?
Footsteps.
<<Hello, I'm---->>
<<Lois Lane, Daily Planet, and this is Clark Kent.>>
Mom? Dad? Here?
<<We're doing a piece on Metropolis' mental health institutions. Is it all right with you if we look around?>>
They were talking. They were moving. Help. Help.... "Mom, Dad, help."
<<...don't see why we have to do this! The next time I see Perry...>>
<<Lois, behave!>>
Getting closer... "Mom. Dad. Help!"
<<Why can't Eduardo be doing this? I should be out there getting the *real* stories, not walking up to mental patients and saying "Hi, how do you like being insane?">>
<<Lo-is...>>
Something wrong...What was it? Think, Jon, think! Couldn't think. Couldn't fly. Bye-bye Superman...Where was the sun? Please, someone, let him out...So dark...
They were closer now. Talking. Hurry! He rolled out of bed like mayonaise and went to the door. "Mom. Dad. S'me, Jon. 'M not dead. Help!"
Time was oozing by. Time...Tempus...
Drugs...
Think, Jon, think!
"Mom...Dad..."
He could see them now. They were young, like a dream. Please don't be a dream. Help...
They stopped right in front of his cage.
"Now see, take *this* mental case..."
"Lois..."
"Well, he is!"
Not insane....Remember!...Not...Not... "I'm not insane!"
They whirled around. The fancy things danced. Mom spoke. "Right."
Dad shot her a warning look.
"Please help...The drugs, they give me drugs!" He felt his eyes tearing up. The world was going blurry again.
Dad smiled at him, sympathetic. "It's all right, really! The drugs are just to help you get better. They want to help you."
"No!" Why didn't they see? "I'm...not crazy! Drugs...the nurse! She's in on it! Please, Dad! Help!"
Why were they looking at him like that? It was him! It was Jon! Their baby!
Jenny... Where was she? Oh Jenny... Mom. Dad. Please help!
"See, Clark? I shouldn't be wasting my time here! I should be out getting another Kerth..."
"Pulitzer."
The room swayed.
"Pulitzer! Yes! This guy's got a few marbles left after all!" Mom shouted.
"First Pulitzer."
Her tone changed. "Yes, it would be. How'd you know that?"
Think, Jon, think. Remember. "You told me the story...when I was a kid...Nellie Bly on BlackWell Island...the first Pulitzer."
"O-kay..."
"She was sane but she was insane. They said she was sane but she wasn't insane, but they said she's insane..."
"Clark, can we go now?"
"But she's sane and she wasn't insane and nobody was insane!"
"I think we've gotten *plenty* of material already..."
"Help me, Nellie Bly!"
"...Maybe go get something to eat..."
"I'm not insane! Help me, Nellie Bly! I'm not insane! It's the nurse!"
They were walking away.
"Nellie Bly's not insane! It's the drugs! Help me, Nellie Bly!" Their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. He slid to the floor. Tears pricked his eyes. "It's the drugs. The drugs. Can't think straight..."
Think, Jon, think.
"Mom...Dad..."
Too late. No hope. No help. Out of time... Time. Tempus. Time. Of course.
"Clark. Kent."
Focus. Focus. Had to think. Had to fight the drug.
"Clark Kent, I know you can hear me."
Focus. Fight. Focus.
"Clark Kent, I know you're Superman."
Fight. Think, Jon, think.
"Clark Kent, you were a baby in a rocket."
Please help, please...
"Help."
Help, Nellie Bly...
