Lois & Clark Forums Forums Superman In Other Canon Superman In Other Canon Fanfic Twelve Steps From Smallville 27/57 (Smallville)

Perry raised his eyebrows. Beginning to say something, he was cut off by Clark murmuring fiercely, "God, if she'd only look at me!"

Silence. This glimpse into Clark's psyche affected Perry profoundly. Their previous interactions at AA meetings, though they had seemed to be a deep exchange of confidences, now were revealed as shallow compared to the torrent of words and feelings that poured out of Clark.

Perry could understand the frustration. To be dependent on another's regard, to expect them to see you in a different way, to re-adjust their view of you – it was liberating and frightening, all at once. It was changing, and change was always hard. The one thing Perry knew about change – he could only change himself. He couldn't change anyone else.

He deliberately cleared his throat. The naked longing on Clark's face could not be borne.

"Ahem."

Clark turned to look at him.

Perry continued, blurting out the first thing he could think of. "Why do you go to AA then?" He made a frustrated gesture. "I thought alcohol didn't affect Superman."

"It doesn't," Clark admitted, with a tiny smile. "Street drugs don't either. Can you see me shooting up?"

Perry chuckled. "No."

"No, Perry, my drug is red kryptonite."

Perry raised his eyebrows, and turned back to his neglected notebook. He scrawled Red K and gave Clark a questioning glance.

Clark responded. "You probably know of green meteor rock – "

"I thought that was the only kind there was," Perry interrupted.

"No." Clark said flatly. "There are several other isotopes – they appear as different colors of rock." He watched as Perry scribbled that information into his notebook as well. "Fortunately, they're pretty rare." Again, he seemed lost in thought.

"Red kryptonite?" Perry prompted.

"Oh, yes," Clark returned to the present. "It's me on drugs. I only care about myself. I'll do anything, just as long as it's what I want to do. I don't care if people get in my way, or if I commit a crime, or if I tell my secret. The Red K just feels so good."

Perry was alarmed at the last phrase.

"Good?" he asked cautiously. He'd heard other alcoholics talk about their favorite booze in the same tone of voice.

Clark shook his head, returned to himself. "Yeah, it's good," he said. "But I learned long ago that my problems don't go away when I'm on it. I just don't care about them. And then I get in more trouble."

"Nothing gets better when you add a drinking problem," Perry mumbled, having learned the truth of that from his own experiences. The reporter came to the fore, and he found himself asking questions.

"Is it like the green kryptonite, where you have to be within a certain distance? Does it weaken you?"

"It doesn't weaken me, no, Perry. I still retain my powers," Clark said. "I just don't care who I hurt when I use them."

Perry paled at the implications.

"And the Red K does have to be pretty close to me – on my person, or in my clothing. Most of the pieces I've found have been tiny, though. If I ran across a big enough piece, it might act like the green kryptonite, where how close I can get and how seriously I'm affected depends on the size of the piece."

Perry barely heard the last. He was still thinking about Clark's previous statement. Memory stirred.

"It must have been you!" he said. "You were the notorious bank bandit of Metropolis! Who else could have taken all the bullets from the Special Crimes Unit? You're an urban legend!"

Clark squirmed abashedly. "I was hoping you wouldn't think of that," he said.

Perry said incredulously. "I can't believe I never put it together before...oh." He gazed at the glasses again. "Well, it was the biggest story of the year. Masked bank robber in Metropolis, police couldn't stop him, the culprit never apprehended – Clark, that was a huge story! Of course I remember it!" He snorted. "I just didn't connect it with Superman until now."

"I stole a Lamborghini," Clark added. "I hurt a bunch of people. Thank God I didn't kill anyone. I could have."

"That was the time you told me about!" said Perry. Much became clear. "When I met you at AA, you said you'd spent a summer on a drug-fueled bender!"

"Well, I did," Clark said, looking away. "I had a Red K ring."

"How'd you stop?" Perry couldn't help asking. Who would be able to take a ring away from Superman?

"My father staged an intervention," Clark said shortly. "It's a long story." His countenance was forbidding. Obviously he didn't want to talk about that right now. Perry could respect the wish for privacy. Admitting his failings had been the toughest thing he'd done, and it had taken him several attempts.

"Anyway," Clark said loudly, breaking into Perry's thoughts, "when I lost Lois the second time – when I kissed her and it took away her memories again – I could feel the red kryptonite calling me. Calling me to go, not have the pain, just do what I wanted. I couldn't hold out without Lois. You and AA got me through it the first time, Perry, but I couldn't go through that again. And becoming Superman kept me busy enough that I could fight off the craving. But the second time….I couldn't face seeing Lois every day and having her not know me." He grimaced. "And AA wouldn't really work, not when I wasn't being really honest."

Perry nodded.

"So that's why I left," Clark said simply. "I ran away to Krypton. And learning more about my heritage, my powers, the Kryptonian technology, learning to be Kryptonian, being Kryptonian and not human for awhile, helped me make it through." He straightened his shoulders. "I've learned more than I ever thought I would. I know who I am now. I know what I can be now."

Perry looked at him and saw a man in his maturity, a man of character, who exuded a sense of solidity and trustworthiness. Clark had the "Superman" look right now, even more so than the look that Superman usually projected.

"And Richard?" Perry asked delicately. He couldn't help but wonder about his nephew. Heck, Richard and Lois were engaged!

"I don't know," Clark said, suddenly sounding uncertain. "I want Lois to see me, the real me. All of me. And we have to talk. And, if after that, Lois wants to be with him – if she's happy with him – I'll wish him the best." He swallowed. "I just want Lois to be happy."

"I respect you for that, Clark," Perry said musingly. "Would she leave Richard?" He found himself thinking clinically about it. He's your nephew, Perry! he told himself. Your loyalties should be with him. But he couldn't help but feel for the Man of Steel. "I mean, they have been living together for six years now. And I think Richard's got Lois addicted to family. She didn't have much of one growing up, and now she's found that she likes it."

Clark looked depressed.

"But, Clark, I think there's something missing. Why hasn't she set a wedding date with Richard?" Perry asked. "Now that you're back, even though she hasn't really seen you, if you know what I mean – "

Clark nodded.

"- there's still that spark between you. I've looked for it over the years, and she and Richard together don't have that spark. They've got trust, and respect, and some love, but they just don't have that little bit extra."

Clark looked hopeful now.

"I think you need to talk it all out with Lois," Perry concluded. This was one messy triangle he was definitely going to stay out of. No matter what happened, someone was going to get hurt here. "Just two requests."

"Yes?" the taller man asked, returning the small smile that played on Perry's lips.

"Try to keep Lois from blowing your cover," Perry said dryly. "And, when she finds out, try to keep her from destroying the newsroom."

Clark laughed. "You're talking like that's a distinct possibility."

Perry leaned back and smiled. "This is Lois Lane we're talking about."

Clark chuckled again. Then the smile left his face as he asked, "Richard?"

Somehow Perry knew what he meant. "If you end up having to tell Richard – which you might, Clark – he's a decent guy. He won't rat you out." Fifty years of judging character informed this assessment of his nephew.

"If you say so, Perry," said Clark, a little dubiously.

"I really don't think he would," Perry said. "Ask Lois, though, before you do anything."

"OK." Clark shrugged his shoulders.

"I am definitely staying out of this one, Kent," Perry said. "It's up to you." The yellow light from the kitchen fixture gleamed down on the polished wood of the table. Perry added, "But of course, on the Lex Luthor story, you two will have to work together. Closely."

"I'm counting on it," Clark murmured.

"Lex Luthor!" Perry suddenly realized. "Wait a minute! He used to live in Smallville!"

"He must have known that Superman was me?" Clark prompted. "Yes, of course, he did. He's always been smart. And he'd been around me enough in Smallville to see that things didn't always add up around me. He knew I was different. He just didn't know how different."

The reporter got a sardonic expression. "You may recall, Perry, that Superman made his debut. And the very next day, Lex Luthor granted an interview to the Daily Planet on the condition that Clark Kent and Lois Lane be the interviewers."

"I remember that," Perry said. He could see where this was going.

"I think he had plans of, oh, let's not call it blackmail…let's just call it influencing Superman's actions, by pointing out what Clark Kent's life would be like if Clark lost his anonymity. Along with the lives of all of Clark's family, friends, and neighbors."

"And?" Perry couldn't help asking.

"So, his was the one situation where I didn't mind that the glasses took away his memories." A sad look crossed Clark's face. "We were friends once," he said softly. "But we grew apart. He chose another path." He sighed. "I've always hated what the glasses do, Perry," he said. "Violating people's minds, stealing their pasts – it's just wrong." He shrugged. "But with Lex Luthor, I had to. That's just how he is. If he has a hold on you, he'll use it. You can't trust him." Clark took a long sip of coffee. "So, in the classic rationalization of "ends justify the means", I let the glasses do their work. And, since you told me that the memories aren't lost, but just misplaced, I hope with all my soul that Lex never finds those memories."

"I didn't start remembering until you started reminding me about things," Perry said slowly. "Maybe, if you never remind him, you'll be OK."

"I hope so," Clark said heavily. "If he found out, it would be a disaster."

"What about written records?" Perry asked. He knew that Lex would have a room full of blackmail material somewhere. It was just what Luthors did.

"You know, I wondered about that too, but nothing like that has ever come to light," Clark said. "And Lex has never made any sign that he's found out something."

A memory niggled at Perry. "You know when you tried on the glasses in front of me for the first time?"

"I remember it vividly, yes," said Clark with a hint of sarcasm.

"Right before you did that, I had given you a folder," Perry said slowly, remembering bits and pieces.

"You did," Clark said musingly, quicker to remember that day than Perry.

"You know, Clark, I was no better than Lex. I knew there was something funny about you too," Perry said. "I thought you were some kind of meteor mutant. And I kept on documenting everything. I got quite a thick dossier on you."

Clark raised his eyebrows, indicating Perry should continue.

"And then I realized it didn't matter, and that it wasn't the right thing to do. So I printed out everything and put it in a file folder for you. Then I deleted all my information, so the only copy was in that folder," Perry finished. He felt absurdly rewarded by the warm smile Clark gave him. "That was the folder I gave to you that day." Slightly apprehensively, he asked the Man of Steel. "What did you think when you read that dossier?"

Clark looked confused. "There was nothing in that folder, Perry," he said. "All it was, was blank pieces of paper."

The two men sat still for a moment, considering. I know I gave him his file, Perry thought. What could have happened? Clark appeared equally confused for a moment. Then he nodded, and pointed to the innocent-looking glasses on the kitchen table.

"No!" Perry protested. "No way!"

"Yes," Clark replied. "I guess they really are the magic glasses." He couldn't help but laugh quietly. "I did ask Jor-El for something that would protect my identity. And he gave that to me."

"I still find it hard to believe," Perry said weakly. "I mean, making people not notice is one thing. Nobody notices anything anyway."

"You do," Clark said sweetly.

"Yeah, but not everyone is a Pulitzer-winning journalist," Perry riposted. "But erasing things on paper? We're really getting into fairy-tale territory now."

"I guess so," Clark said. "It's Clarke's Law all over again. Technology indistinguishable from magic." He laughed. "You know, right now, thinking in English, I can't imagine how it's done." He became somber. "But if I put on the full Kryptonian persona, get into the mindset, it all becomes clear." He caught Perry's eye and nodded. "I have to start thinking like a Kryptonian to understand it fully. But if I do, I can."

His eyes took on a sudden remoteness, his face a rough sternness. Perry shivered as once again, he saw the aloof and majestic Last Son of Krypton. Then Clark relaxed, and he was once again the genial reporter and close friend that Perry knew.

"I still have to work on switching between the human and the alien," Clark said. "In the ship, for five years, I was Kryptonian. And here, I'm human. I haven't had a lot of practice going from one to the other. Quickly, I mean."

That was interesting, if mind-boggling. Just one more crazy thing about Clark Kent…

Perry left off the human-alien dichotomy and went back to the magically erased documents. His mind grappled with the implications. "I guess that's why Lex Luthor never came back to you," he said, "You know, connecting Clark Kent with Superman."

"Guess so," Clark agreed.

Perry's phone rang, startling them both. He looked at the display. "Alice," he said, and flipped it open.

"Hi, honey."

"Hi, Perry, did you forget we're going out with Bob and Carol tonight?" his better half inquired.

Perry smiled ruefully. "Yep, I did."

Alice sighed. "It's not too late. If you can get home in the next fifteen minutes, we can still make it on time."

"Home in the next fifteen minutes?" Perry said, scrambling. He caught Clark's eye. The tall reporter nodded and smiled. "Um…sure."

"OK, honey, see you soon." Alice ended the call.

Clark took the conversational lead. "Looks like we've got to get you back to Metropolis right now."

****************

Author's Note: A favorite tale of Clarky angst (in this case, alt-Clark from the L&C universe) is Yvonne Connell's "Addicted" , which is where I stole the idea of Clark being addicted to Red K. If that link doesn't go, try this one.