Chapter 2: Interview Other than right after Nightfall, Clark couldn't remember ever feeling so exhausted. He stumbled when he landed on his balcony and all but staggered into the shower, desperate to rid himself of the ash and soot. He was grateful for the cold water that came from the showerhead and just stood there, staring down at the drain that was soon the destination of watery black goop.
It instantly reminded him of the black slop that he had coughed up several years before and he suddenly realized why he was so tired. He had been covered from head to toe in ash and chunks of lava for most of the day and on his flight home. He hadn't been able to absorb much energy from the sun during that time. No wonder he was physically spent.
A knock on the door made it to his ears and he quickly focused his hearing. He smiled.
Lois' heartbeat was close.
The sound of his lock being jimmied soon followed.
She was in his apartment now and he heard her re-lock his front door.
He hurried out of the shower and clumsily spun into clean, casual clothing.
“Clark?” she called from his living room.
“Yes?” he answered, stepping out with a tired smile.
Lois gasped and rushed forward before stopping in front of him with her hand on his chest.
"Clark, you look awful!" she exclaimed.
"Do I?" he asked.
He hadn't looked in the mirror since that morning and he did feel very tired so he suspected she was correct.
"Well, not awful-awful, but certainly exhausted. Here, you should sit down, if not go to bed, unless you're hungry?" she rambled.
"I could eat," he said, amused as he let himself be guided to the couch.
"Okay, you just rest and I'll order some take out," she insisted.
He did as she said and allowed himself to relax against the cushions. She ordered pizza in record time before joining him.
"So are you really just tired?” she asked, concerned.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine once I get some sun in the morning," he assured.
"You should get a sunlamp," she stated.
"I have a few at the Foundation," he said, unbothered.
"Why are they all there? Why isn't one here?" she asked pointedly, even as she cuddled up to his side.
"Never thought about it to be honest."
He glanced down at her face staring at him incredulously.
"I'll pick one of them up tomorrow," he quickly promised.
"Good,” she said, pleased, before getting off the couch.
He looked up at her, confused, as she went around the couch and stopped behind him.
She placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Just relax," she said, before pressing her hands against his shoulders and massaging them.
He sighed and smiled up at her, reclining his head back.
"I watched you on the news from the bullpen in the Daily Planet. Everyone was gathered around the T.V.," she said, working along his neck now.
"It's still strange to know how much Superman is watched," he commented lightly.
"I bet, but is it really a surprise?" she asked, chuckling softly. "You do do the impossible."
"I suppose," he said with a laugh before trailing off uncertainly. "Is . . . is that okay?"
Lois blinked at the change in tone, and she slowed her hands. "Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, bewildered by the question.
"We've never really discussed it. My abilities, I mean. Not in that way, anyway," he said hesitantly.
"I'm not sure what you're asking," she said, returning to her ministrations.
"I just . . . I don't want you to feel. . . ." He paused, trying to figure out how to best explain. "Is it, I don't know, a lot to know what I can do? Is it scary?"
"Hm, it is a lot, but I don't think it's too much, if that's what you're concerned about. And if it was scary to me, I doubt we would have become friends when I just knew you as Kal-slash-Superman," she said, sounding as if she was humoring him now more than anything else.
"But you didn't know as much about me then as you do now," he pointed out.
"You flew out into space and survived a massive explosion that destroyed an asteroid over two times bigger than the one that took out the dinosaurs and
then made it back to Earth in one piece," she deadpanned. "What else could be more impressive or impossible?"
He seemed to shrink into the couch.
"You seem a lot more concerned about this than I am. Are you afraid I'll stop liking you or something?" she asked, confused and edging toward looking uneasy.
"I . . . don't know. Thinking about it now, I'm not sure how I would feel if you had powers and I didn't. Having powers is normal to me. I don't know how it feels to not have them," he said nervously.
"You're afraid I'll compare myself to you and feel inadequate? Is that it?" she asked, confident in her deduction.
Clark frowned before slowly nodding. "Do you?"
"Do
you think I'm inadequate?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No!" he immediately assured.
"Then why would I? You're not perfect, and you've needed my help before, despite your powers. That certainly prevents me from feeling inadequate. And as for comparing myself to you, I haven't really ever done that. You're you and I'm me. You have your things and I have mine. Like right now, there is plenty I can do that you can't," she pointed out.
"Like back massages?" he teased.
"Like taking care of you, Lunkhead, reminding you to bring a sunlamp where you spend most of your time to rest," she corrected triumphantly.
Clark smiled softly before they were interrupted by a knock.
"Perfect timing," she said, hurrying to the door.
After tipping the delivery boy, she set the pizza and drinks on the coffee table before putting on Lethal Weapon.
"So did I resolve your concerns?" she asked, now sitting next to him and grabbing a slice of pizza as the movie started.
"Yeah, you did," he said, relaxed.
“Good,” she said.
They watched the movie and enjoyed dinner in relative silence side-by-side. As the movie continued and the pizza disappeared, Lois curled up against his side and his arm wrapped around her. His head tilted and touched hers a bit later. Finally, the movie finished.
“This will always be one of my favorite movies,” she said softly, before shifting to look at him.
She stilled and smiled tenderly at the sight before her.
He was sound asleep, his head leaning against the cushion.
O o O o O
“Clark, I couldn’t get a hold of you yesterday, everything alright?” Henderson asked as he walked into the precinct.
“Oh, sorry about that. Something came up and I had to get it squared away. It’s all settled now though. What do you need?” Clark asked, worried he had put Bill in a bind.
“I don’t actually need anything. Surprise, I know. No, I was asked to pass on a request to you. It’s a missing person case. Denny Milner. The person wanting to hire you is his brother, Jack Milner,” Henderson said, handing him a folder. “This is what I pulled from our files. Jack and his brother are orphans. They lived on the streets for a time, and Jack has some history, juvenile petty offenses mostly, but then they were picked up by the Superman Foundation. Unfortunately, two weeks ago, Denny, who Jack has custody of, disappeared.”
Clark nodded thoughtfully, opening the folder and scanning it.
“Denny was going to school while his brother went to work. Jack apparently insisted on paying his own way, though the Foundation picked up their rent for the first few months and arranged the interview for the job Jack ended up getting, and that was after he passed the GED.”
“Is Mr. Milner here?” Clark asked.
“No, but he told me if you wanted to talk to him that he’d be at the east docks. He works with a shipping company there. His contact information should be on the second page,” Henderson said.
“Alright, thanks. I gather the PD didn’t pick up any leads?” Clark asked.
“No. Considering the situation, he could be a runaway, but this feels like something more.”
“Alright. I’ll check it out. I’ll see you later,” Clark said before heading off.
O o O o O
Lois shook her hands out above the keyboard. The follow up articles on the ongoing Intergang trials were certainly keeping her busy. From digging into the backstories of the individuals who turned themselves in, to uncovering the dark truths of others who resisted arrests, she had so much to do. And that was before one included Superman into the news.
Which reminded her, apparently Murray Brown, Superman’s representative in all things that might involve a copyright, had arranged a two-part, television interview for him. The first would air Saturday night and the second would air live the following week. She couldn't wait.
Kal-El was not too enthused, but considering he was approaching the two year mark of being Superman, he decided it was about time to grant the request of a TV interview.
At least the host was respectable and would ask useful questions. Of course, she doubted Kal would have agreed to be interviewed by someone less than professional.
Which was why she was looking forward to it. Even though she was dating him, she was certain the interview would provide a different perspective, and she was looking forward to talking about what was discussed in the interview more in depth later. She was also curious to hear Martha and Jonathan’s thoughts on it later.
Clark had taken her to meet his parents a few days after they officially started dating. Of course, she ended up loving his parents. They were just so . . . not insane.
And then he had shown her all the endearing qualities of small town life, before showing her the wonder that was his heritage.
Even though she had known Kal longer than she had known Clark, seeing the holograms of his parents was a lot to digest, especially after touring Smallville and eating the best home cooked meal she had ever had. Every aspect of life with him was more than she could ever have imagined. Even meals.
Hm, perhaps he'd pick up dinner again from that wonderful restaurant in Milan, Italy, the Verticale! She remembered the first time Kal brought her food from there. The Italian dishes were sophisticated and delicious while the wine they sipped tasted better than anything she had had in recent memory.
Wow, she was so spoiled.
O o O o O
Clark pulled away from the docks after speaking with Jack Milner. He was a devoted brother and hard working young man. Clark took the case and offered to do it pro bono, but Jack wouldn't hear it.
He certainly had a great deal of pride and hated what he perceived to be handouts. The only reason he didn't hate the Superman Foundation (which he called the S.F.) was because he had to put in effort to reap the full benefits they provided, such as the GED, job, and housing programs.
He respected the dignity they offered people in need, and there was no dignity in completely providing everything to someone who was capable.
"My brother and I ain't gonna live our lives as victims. We're survivors and soon we'll be winners," Jack had told him. "And just like I told that lady at the S.F., we ain't gonna leech, and I'm done stealin', so just tell me what to do to help you get my brother back and I'll do it."
Clark felt he needed to look into what exactly he had meant with getting his brother back, because he felt there was a deeper meaning there. Which, considering Jack had custody of his brother, perhaps he had had to fight for that. Very likely, now that he thought about it.
Suddenly, his pager buzzed. Looking at it, he instantly recognized the number of Burton, the General. Going to the nearest payphone, he rang him up.
"Burton? It's Clark," Clark said as the phone picked up.
"Hey, Clark. It's nothing urgent, but when you get the chance, can you head over to my office?"
"Okay. Is now a good time?" he asked.
"Yeah, just come in your usual way," he said.
"Sure thing. See you in a bit," Clark promised.
Less than a minute later he was in the General's office.
"Hi, Clark. Although this isn't exactly urgent, I'm glad you got back with me so quickly," he said, motioning for Clark to take the seat across the desk.
"No problem. What's going on?" Clark asked.
"I wanted to give you an update on the kryptonite we sent to Cheyenne. Nothing bad, mind you, but I think you have a right to know. I was just given a report on what the scientists have been doing with it and what they've learned," he said.
"Alright," Clark said slowly, both curious and wary.
"They've learned that when exposed to living, human tissue, it doesn't seem to damage it like gamma or cosmic radiation would. Instead of damaging DNA, it merely slides past it. It actually seems to flow around cells. Odd, I know, but that's what they've found. What's more is that when placed beside solenoid coils, it induces current. The scientists are beside themselves. They believe that if they can reproduce it, it could be a great, safe power source.”
“Do you think that'll happen any time soon?” Clark asked.
"I imagine it's several years out before anything like that's even discussed. With these sorts of research and development projects, there's rarely a rush on things," Burton said.
"That reminds me, as Kal-El, I've started to work with Dr. Klein on some Kryptonian technology. Nothing too grand, but I suspect we might have a working data crystal in a year or so."
Burton laughed. "'Nothing too grand'? You know that would jump start the next technological revolution, right?"
"It's not much more than the recent advancements being done. I suspect soon we'll all have wireless phones and, within a decade, handheld, wireless computers," Clark theorized.
"That's certainly possible," he agreed. "Anyway, I just wanted to keep you in the loop. Oh, and while we're on the subject, would you want me to package up a small sample of each color for your doctor to examine? As much as I want to keep that stuff away from you, another part of me would like to understand why you reacted the way you had. And if this ever does become a mainstream technology, I'd prefer us not getting blindsided by its effects on you," Burton said tentatively.
"I see what you're saying, and agree. I do trust Bernie enough for this, but no one else can know about my weakness," Clark said.
"Completely agree," Burton said wholeheartedly. "No one will be told about what we're really doing with it. I'll just tell the higher ups I believe it would be beneficial to allow a single, outside scientist to take a look. With a scientist of Dr. Klein’s sterling reputation, it shouldn't be too hard to convince them."
"Alright, just a tiny sample of both colors, and I'll pick them up from you once you get them," Clark said after a moment.
"I'll make the calls and let you know," Burton said.
"Thanks," Clark said.
"No problem. And have fun at your interview. My wife has been talking about it since learning about it," he said, grinning.
"I hope I don't regret agreeing to do it. It's two parts, you know. The first will be recorded tonight and aired this weekend, the second will be live next week. I have no idea what they're going to ask, though I've reserved the right not to answer."
"Just use it as an opportunity and everything will be fine. After your handling of the volcano, the world has been reminded of your power. Though I must say it was coupled nicely with that bake sale," Burton said with a chuckle.
Clark shook his head good-naturedly before taking his leave.
O o O o O
Patricia Waters had never been so nervous before an interview in her life, and she had interviewed presidents, queens, princes, and CEOs of multi billion dollar companies.
But she had never interviewed a god before.
Sure, he didn't seem to hold himself above humans or strut his powers, but the fact remained he was the most powerful being on the face of the planet. He was also the founder of a Foundation, which was now involved in nearly every humanitarian service in the world, and the holder of unknown alien knowledge that may one day be incorporated into Earth's technology and their way of life. He was a daunting figure no matter how one looked at him.
And he would be sitting across from her, answering essentially anything she asked.
Admittedly, she was a fan, but she preferred to believe she was one of the more reserved and realistic fans.
She liked what Superman stood for and liked what he was currently doing; however, she also knew people could change and that people often had ulterior motives no matter what. Usually those motives were harmless, or even good, but people rarely did anything without some level of selfishness - even if it was to make themselves feel good for being nice.
She looked at the clock. He should be here any time n—.
"Pat, he's here," the breathless voice of her assistant said by the door. "Amanda is with him now."
Amanda was their head make-up artist and Patricia really hoped she wasn't currently pulling the Man of Steel into a dressing room and applying make-up with or without his permission. Amanda was shameless.
Patricia quickly got up and motioned for her assistant to lead the way.
Thankfully, Amanda was behaving - or at least wasn't being her usual self.
Coming to the stage, she found Superman sitting patiently on a stool in front of Amanda who was dutifully applying a powder on his face to serve as a foundation. The camera crew was out and about, trying to appear busy but really just trying not to be obvious about staring at Superman. Fortunately, they had already pre-prepped everything, so all they were really waiting on was her to give the go to begin recording.
"You know, you almost don't need any make-up. I have never seen skin so clear of blemishes, and it doesn’t look like you have any oil, which is nice,” Amanda said, adding more base. “Oil causes glare on camera.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Superman actually looked bemused.
“This will simply prevent you from looking pale under the lights,” she continued, dabbing at his forehead before leaning back and nodding to herself, pleased. “Okay. Now let’s look at your hands.”
Superman held out his hands and Amanda wasn’t shy about taking them to examine his nails closely before turning them over.
“Alright, we’re good,” Amanda said, grinning.
“Great,” Superman said, smiling kindly.
Patricia stepped forward. “Hello, Superman. I’m Patricia Waters,” she said, holding out her hand.
Superman gently took it and she was surprised by how normal his hand felt.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Waters,” he said.
“Likewise. Thanks for agreeing to be interviewed,” she said. "Well, if you’re ready, do you have any questions before we start?"
“No, I don’t have any questions at the moment. And I’m ready,” he said amiably.
She smiled, glad they seemed to be starting on the right foot. It was always problematic when there was a misunderstanding initially or when someone got rubbed the wrong way.
They moved to their positions, settling into two comfortable chairs angled off a small table so both of them could reach glasses of water while having nothing directly between them. The area had been cleared and soft white curtains had been set up several yards behind them so there would be no distractions in the frame with them. The lighting was soft but wide.
“Now - I do this before every interview - per the agreement, after recording and editing the interview, we will submit it for your review and approval. Upon your approval, we will air it Saturday at 7:00pm Central time. Correct?” she asked, maintaining her habit of confirming the agreement before officially starting.
“Correct,” he said.
“Alright,” she said before looking at the camera and giving a nod. The cameraman gave her a thumbs up.
“Good evening, I'm Patricia Waters, and with me tonight is someone who, just over two years ago, had been among us in secret, but now is recognized around the world. Superman," she introduced passionately. "Superman, thank you so much for being here."
"Thank you for having me," he returned.
"Now, we're coming up on the two-year anniversary of Ms. Lois Lane's article of you, 'Superman Speaks', and since then you have prevented a nuclear meltdown, started a foundation that now impacts the entire world in it's humanitarian efforts, stopped Nightfall, helped end Intergang, and, more recently, tamed an erupting volcano. When you first revealed yourself, did you ever imagine doing any of that?"
Superman gave a small laugh. "No. And even a week ago I would have denied being able to do what I did with that volcano."
"But you did it," she pointed out.
"Yes, fortunately."
"So at the time, you didn't know if what you were doing would work?" she asked, muting her surprise somewhat but not completely.
"Admittedly, when I do something for the first time, I usually don't know if I'll succeed. But I have to try. So I do."
"What do you mean you 'have to try'?" she asked, pleased they were already going deep and getting into rich subject matter.
Sometimes it took fifteen or thirty minutes for the interviewee to open up enough to give interesting answers, instead of stiff bland ones.
"I just . . . do. I'd rather try and fail than wonder if I could have made a positive difference. When I—" He hesitated, and she was immediately intrigued.
"Go on. What were you going to say?"
The camera zoomed in on Superman's face before he answered.
"When I first arrived here, I was taken in by some very kind and loving people. They became my adopted family. And for as long as I've known them, they told me they found me for a reason and that I have a purpose. I just have to find it. What greater purpose is there than to serve life?"
Pat smiled, curiosity surging as she wondered if he'd actually answer anything about his adopted family. Could she risk it?
"So you grew up on Earth?" she asked, deciding that was a fair and expected question.
"Pretty much. A great deal of my childhood memories are from Earth, anyway," he said with a shrug.
"Did you always have powers?" she asked.
"Some of them. As I grew, more surfaced. But I've always been strong and fast."
"Were you invulnerable as a child?" she asked curiously.
"Physically, yes."
That was an interesting answer.
"How did your family react?" she asked.
"To me having powers? Surprised, afraid, I suppose. Not afraid
of me, but
for me. They knew if anyone outside the family learned how different I was, there was a high chance of me being taken away."
"But wouldn't you be able to escape?"
"Probably. But remember, at the time I was a child. And even a super strong teenager is vulnerable to malicious words and threats. And what about my family? They don't have any powers."
"I see," she said, trying to imagine a young Superman under the care and protection of humans. “I'm glad everything worked out and that you were taken in by clearly amazing people.”
Superman's face lit up at the compliment to his family. "They're the best."
Pat smiled, struck by how genuinely happy he was.
"What do they think about you being Superman?” she asked.
Superman laughed. “My mom sewed my uniform. They’re thrilled, although at first they were nervous. My dad especially had always been concerned about how the world would respond when they learned I existed. That Humanity wasn’t alone. But it didn’t turn out to be a problem, and I'm eternally grateful for that. My family is exceedingly pleased that I can be myself and use my abilities to help people.”
"I must admit, I'm surprised you're admitting to having a human family and giving the amount of details that you are," she said.
"Since the Congress Hearing, the world has known I've been on Earth for over fifteen years. I figured it would be reasonable to sate some curiosity on my person, even if it brings about more curiosity and attention. Also, I want people to know I have individuals I care about. That I have family just like everyone else. People who would miss me on the same level as they would a son if, for whatever reason, I didn't return to them - which almost happened with Nightfall. To hide that fact I think would be wrong and ignore the sacrifices my human family has made and are making for me. They share me with the world, after all. So I think it's fair if the world knows that.
"Maybe one day I'll introduce my family to the world, but until then, I'll reveal what I feel is safe. Fortunately, the world is a big place and everything I've said provides no concrete details about who they are or where they live. And if, by chance, they were to be discovered before my choosing, we'd deal.
"However, I must say, as Lord Kal-El, if any individual or organization, government or otherwise, were to ever target them, I would view it as an act of war and respond accordingly. And, as specified in the Treaty of El, I have the right to adamantly defend those who have cared for me over the years."
Pat blinked, stunned by the transformation before her. It was as if he was a General of an army, a King of a nation, a Lord of a world. And then he relaxed and the room came back on itself. He hadn't been scary exactly, but he had been daunting.
She swallowed.
"I think we can all understand and agree with the importance of protecting our families," she said. She cleared her throat. "While I would love to continue asking you questions about your loved ones, I do have a few other questions I have to ask or I'll be hearing about it from my producer," she said with an apologetic smile.
It was a borderline fib, but she felt it was time to ease back to more lighthearted questions.
“What’s your favorite super power?” she asked.
“Flying," he said promptly.
“I admit that would be mine, although super speed would be helpful,” she commented.
“It can be,” Superman agreed.
“If you didn’t have powers, what would you want to do with your life? What job would you want?” she asked.
“You mean if I was human?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
Superman shifted in his chair as he thought. “Well, I think I’d like to be in search and rescue, but if I couldn’t do that, maybe journalism. Bring attention to things that people need to know about.”
“Write articles?” she asked, trying to imagine Superman behind a computer.
“Sure, and investigate topics for stories.”
“Like Ms. Lane?”
“She did find me by investigating, so I’ll admit I’m curious about that sort of work,” he said, unbothered. “If I was human and I needed a job, I’d consider trying that one if search and rescue didn’t pan out.”
Pat nodded, hiding her surprise by the ease in which he was answering. She hoped it continued.
"Now, this next question concerns your Foundation and recent events. Due to all the media coverage, it's well-known that Mr. Bill Church Sr. gave a sizable amount of CostMart shares to the Foundation and that an agreement was made between the CostMart company and your organization--essentially handing ownership and operational powers over to you--before Church Sr. came forward as the Head of Intergang and surrendered to police. It is fair to say the Foundation runs CostMart now, correct? Due to statements made by the District Attorney, the Police Department, and yourself, we know you were helping investigators and likely helped Mr. Church have a change of heart. Could you shed any light on how and why that came about and how you feel about how it turned out?" she asked.
Superman nodded, clearly having expected this chain of questions.
"The Foundation owns CostMart now, but doesn't see to the day-to-day operations. Instead, we work with the company's committee, which is cooperating fully with the investigation, to ensure normal store and business operations continue. Mr. Church had been concerned that the tens of thousands of people CostMart employs would be instantly out of a job if he had not given ownership to me before going to police. He didn't want his past criminal activity to hurt any more people. After all, he knew all of his finances and such would be seized by police and he didn't want CostMart to be stuck in paperwork limbo, thus hurting the employees and those who shop at the stores all around the globe, so he handed it all to me. More or less.
"As for how it came about . . . all of this is already in my statements to police, as well as in evidence in the form of recordings, but to sum up, Mr. Church had initially tried to coerce me into turning a blind eye to certain illegal activities. I played along after informing a District Attorney about what was happening and getting my interactions with Intergang recorded. As I played along, I put stipulations on my 'cooperation' such as not harming children and avoiding any activities that could attract emergency medical personnel."
"He was going to try to coerce you? How?" she asked.
"The usual, by threatening people," he said, unbothered. "It's been tried before and it doesn't work on me. Threatening people just annoys me and makes me work harder on thwarting whoever is behind the threats."
"I see," she said, without really seeing. She just wasn't sure she wanted to inquire further down that vein.
"Well, with my conditions stated, I learned something interesting. Intergang already had an unwritten code of ethics. They already tried to avoid harming children and 'noncombatants'. Mr. Church despised getting everyday people involved in the underworld and preferred a mafia-like attitude. So I decided to take a chance and pry into that. It paid off," Superman explained.
"It certainly did. It's amazing how much of Intergang followed his decision to confess to police and such," she said.
"You'd be surprised to learn how many people tangled up in such situations are willing to change if given a serious chance," he said.
Pat smiled. "Such as the halfway program the Foundation has created?"
"Yes. I have a devoted team who evaluates each individual who enters the program and we hold each to high standards."
"What if they don't meet those standards?" Pat asked, curious.
"Then they are removed from the program. We don't cater to individuals who are not serious about bettering themselves," Superman said simply. "There are too many people who desperately want a second chance. We will not allow our resources to be misused or wasted on those who don't care to put in the effort needed to better their lives."
Pat blinked, not having expected such a blunt answer, but she supposed he knew this interview would eventually be seen by the world, including those who might enter the program. Might as well make certain expectations clear.
"That does make sense," she agreed, before shifting topics. "Considering the bake sale you held, would it be fair to say you like food?" she asked.
"I love food, but I don't really need to eat."
Her eyebrows rose. "So does that mean you don't ever get hungry?"
"Not really. I crave food sometimes, wanting a particular flavor, but that's different from being hungry. I get what I need from sunlight."
"That's very interesting. Do you think you'd need to eat if it was cloudy for a while?" she asked.
"Yes, if I didn't decide to fly above the clouds. And actually, I had to eat after Nightfall. I probably could have chosen not to eat, but it would have taken me longer to recover," Superman explained.
"So have you ever been sick? A cold, upset stomach?" she asked, allowing her curiosity to guide the questions for a moment.
"No. I've gotten headaches a few times, and have become nauseous from using some of my visual abilities in certain instances, but no, I've never had an actual illness."
Pat hummed thoughtfully before growing a little serious as she came upon her next batch of questions.
“If you would like to pass on this, just wave your hand and we’ll edit it out,” she said as she straightened in her chair.
“Alright.”
“This next question might be considered too sensitive a question, but I think many in the world would like to know. Is being an alien difficult?”
Superman blinked, and she wondered if she should have led into that better.
“Sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m here and I’m not going to dwell on things that I can’t change, especially since, when it comes down to it, I’m happy that I am what I am. Growing up, I felt alone a lot of the time, felt that I didn’t belong, even with my loving, adopted family. But that’s part of every sentient life, I think. Everyone experiences self-doubt at least once, and feels that no one understands. And that’s what too many people get stuck on. You don’t need anyone to understand, you just need someone to be with you or to know that someone would be if they could. That makes all the difference and makes being an alien perfectly alright. Being the 'only one' doesn't have to mean you're alone.”
Pat really tried not to tear up, but that was one of the most beautiful things she had ever heard.
“That is wise advice," she said as she collected herself before giving a sigh. "Unfortunately I think we'll need to close here though. Thank you again for agreeing to be interviewed and giving us the pleasure of learning more about you and your life."
"You're welcome," he said with a kind smile.
Two days later, after very little editing, the interview was approved, and the world was enraptured.
O o O o O
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