Investigate: HorizonsBy: Blueowl
Summary: 5th Act of AU series, Investigate. Adapting to a new condition is hard, but when has the universe ever given Superman a break? Fortunately, for each challenge there is a new horizon.
A/N: A special thanks to Ksarasara and Chereche who helped beta this fic and acted as soundboards ^_^. And thanks to those on FOLC's Skype group who helped me clarify ideas.
A/N: Although not required, reading Acts I, II, Interlude, III, and IV is helpful, as this Superman/Clark is not like canon much at all:
Investigate,
Investigate: Intergang,
Investigate: Time Interlude,
Investigate: Keeper Pt 1,
Investigate: Keeper Pt 2, and
Investigate: Beckoning__________
[Chapter 1: Adjusting]Jason Wilson stepped beside Mav Ervin, watching with quiet interest as Superman, or rather Kal-El, worked alongside six Foundation volunteers. They were laughing and joking around, completely at ease with the Kryptonian whose aura gently ebbed forth, although Wilson was currently too far to feel it. Piles of packages and letters were strewn throughout the room, and Kal-El was seated with the group organizing letters.
Wearing what many understood to be his 'off duty' clothing (jeans and a shield t-shirt), Kal-El silently read a letter beside a young volunteer. His blue eyepatch stood out, of course, but it seemed the volunteers had already gotten used to it. Wilson was happy to see that, as well as the obvious support system around him.
It had only been two weeks since the Foundation had reached out to Wilson, seeking his services. Within that same timeframe, the UN had made a formal inquiry to the Foundation, asking if Superman was receiving any mental health services, as some concerns had been expressed to them by concerned citizens and government officials around the world. It had been worded carefully, almost hesitantly, going over how other first responders received regular counseling and that, considering recent events, such services might be beneficial to even Superman, while reassuring the Foundation that the UN did not believe Superman was unfit. It was clear they were worried their inquiry would not be taken well. They needn't have worried, at least not about the Foundation or Superman's reaction.
The Foundation quickly responded, explaining that they were already in the process of finding a licensed therapist because the Foundation and Superman both recognized the benefits. They also thanked the UN for caring enough to broach a topic that many considered too sensitive.
Frankly, Wilson was rather impressed. He seriously doubted such dialogue would have been exchanged between any two public groups ten years prior, nor so openly. Mental health was, after all, quite misunderstood and misconstrued by much of the general population, and discussion of it was often labeled taboo. The idea of a public figure's mental health even being discussed five years ago was unimaginable, let alone when said individual was powerful and practically revered. But perhaps that was the reason why this instance was different?
Superman had time-and-time again demonstrated he preferred blunt, no-nonsense interaction on sensitive topics and that he was capable of handling typically awkward situations with grace and refreshing directness.
Now was no different.
"Kal-El? Dr. Wilson is here," Mav said.
Kal-El looked up and Wilson was struck by his open expression. Of course, being looked at by one eye was also a little startling, especially when that eye belonged to a god among men.
A kind, humble god, but still a god.
Superman stood up, and the volunteers did their best to focus on their work, though it was clear they were curious.
"Doctor," Kal-El said with a smile, holding out his hand once he had come before him.
Wilson was a large, bald but fit, fifty-year-old man. His size, dark skin and short, white beard made him stand out almost anywhere he went, and it had been a long time since he had known he was not the one in control of an introduction. It was an interesting position and he was curious to see how Superman approached things.
He took the offered hand, matching the carefully measured strength that greeted him.
"Thanks for coming all this way," Kal said. "Did you have any problems with the flights? I heard the snow storm over Wyoming shifted things."
"Happy to come, and the flights worked out. It actually ended up working in my favor because it removed a long layover at a different stop," he said, a little surprised Kal-El seemed genuinely interested in his travels.
"Which reminds me, the car will be here at 4 to take you to your hotel," Mav smoothly interjected.
"Thank you," Wilson said.
"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mav said simply, placing his hand on Kal’s shoulder and gripping it for a long moment.
Kal slowly inhaled before giving an appreciative nod, and Wilson had the strangest feeling he had just witnessed something important before he found himself following Superman up the stairwell a moment later.
They entered the third floor and Wilson tried to appear at ease. He wasn't quite intimidated, but it was impossible not to at least feel slightly awed by the man in front of him and the knowledge that he was where few people on Earth had ever even seen.
"I, uh, am not quite sure what to do here," Superman admitted, leading them to a place that looked more like a cozy break room than anything else.
There was a mini kitchen attached to the area, with a couch, table and chairs. A few plants were on some shelves on the wall with some books and a strange, unplugged lamp sat in the corner.
"That's alright. The important thing is to try to relax, as hard as that might sound."
"So it would be alright for me to relax my aura?" Kal asked tentatively.
"Of course, if that's what would make you more comfortable. I am to accommodate you, not the other way around," Wilson stated as he allowed Kal to lead the way and sit on the couch.
Wilson took the chair beside the table about five feet away and opened his thin briefcase, quickly retrieving his notebook and pen.
"Alright," Kal said, his posture relaxing slightly.
Wilson stilled as a soft presence hushed over his skin, like an early morning fog, but one with purpose and power instead of cool moistness. It was pleasant, and not as startling as he had expected it would be. Of course, perhaps Superman was being extra careful, because there seemed to be a faint, questioning aspect to it.
Wilson smiled calmly and when Kal made no comment, he didn't either and pressed on.
"The first session is normally just a time we introduce ourselves and discuss what you'd like to get out of our sessions, as well as ground rules," Wilson assured
"Ground rules?" Kal asked.
"I only have two rules, and they're both what I think most people would say are give-ins. No lies and no harm. If you don't want to answer a question or can't, just say so. And know I will never lie to you. Trust is vital in therapy. Also, tied to trust is knowing the other person would never do anything to knowingly threaten your well-being," Wilson explained. "Now I might ask you things that are uncomfortable, maybe even painful, but that sort of pain is the type that will help you in the long run. Questions?" he asked, a little surprised he wasn't having any problem talking to Superman like any other person – however ashamed that private admission made him feel.
"No, that makes sense," Kal agreed. "And I take it the standard disclosures apply with that, like if you suspect I'm a danger to myself or others, you are legally bound to break confidentiality? Or if there's a court order or if there is suspected abuse involved?"
"That's right. I think it's worth mentioning that I feel those situations are highly unlikely, but it's important to acknowledge them."
Kal nodded.
“I also extend the No Harm rule a bit further on my end by writing all notes I take for and on our sessions in a code only I know. And while I suppose it could eventually be broken, it would not do the codebreaker much good because there is another layer beneath. It is much like the Navajo Code during WW2,” he said.
Superman’s eye widened, and Wilson felt a pleased surprise glisten in the air. He could already tell this aura was going to come in handy, as well as be potentially problematic.
“That is very good to know. Mav had said you take extra precautions but I hadn’t expected that.”
Wilson smiled, happy he had assured Superman while trying not to feel too proud that he had also surprised him.
“I’m not sure how much you read about me before your Foundation requested me, but I have been working as a licensed therapist for twenty-three years and, for the last ten years, I have primarily served as a trauma therapist. From mild anxiety to severe PTSD, I’ve helped hundreds of people properly face and address their past.
“Now, I’m a father of two and my wife, Marie, stays busy spoiling our first grandchild back in Wyoming. We’ve lived there for four years and love our small town.”
“First grandchild? Congratulations!” Kal said, and Wilson was touched by his tender genuineness that also hummed with wonder.
“She was born in February, so she’s ten months now. My wife loves braiding her hair. We had two boys, and they had practically no hair for the longest time, and then when it finally came in, they preferred their hair short, so my wife is taking advantage of the difference.”
Kal smiled. “My mom taught me to braid hair. She said it’s important because one never knows when it’ll be handy. Granted, at the time, my hair was becoming harder and harder to cut, so I think she was preparing me in case it became impossible. Of course, it did become impossible, but by then my heat vision came in, so it didn’t matter.”
“Your hair was hard to cut as a child?” Wilson asked.
“The older I got, the stronger it became. Near the end, my dad had to use garden shears,” Kal admitted, shaking his head. “And even then, the blades dulled and warped so quickly we had to replace them once a month. So glad I have heat vision. Although that had taken a bit to get the hang of.”
“Wow, that’s very interesting.”
Kal shrugged, and Wilson wondered how many other ‘normal’ things were different for him.
“Well, even though I know who you are to the world and everything that’s in the public domain about you, is there anything you would like me to know about you before we move on? Anything you think I should know to better help you during our sessions?” Wilson asked.
“Hm. Well, only one thing really comes to mind, and it's about half the reason why you're here," Kal said, looking the most serious Wilson had seen him that day. "I'm seeing someone. With someone. It's . . . serious."
Wilson internalized his shock the best he could, but the vulnerable nervousness he was feeling that was not his own told him Superman likely knew how surprised he was. He took a moment to calm himself, digesting the possible implications, present and future, for both his patient and the world. He could definitely see why Kal-El was willing to ensure he was okay by getting a personal therapist. He had extra motivation.
After a moment, he felt the nervousness shift to relief.
"Why are you relieved?" Wilson asked, confused.
"You're not opposed to me being with someone – a human," he answered.
Sadness filled Wilson up, seeing yet another 'normal' thing that was different for Superman.
"You have every right to have companionship and to find happiness. I'm actually very glad you have someone special. It will also honestly make my job easier, in some aspects anyway."
"It will?" Kal asked.
"I have a better idea of what your motivations are now, and I now have an avenue for some strategies, if they end up being needed," he explained.
"I doubt I'll ever tell you who she is," Kal pointed out frankly.
"You won't ever need to. Knowing of her existence is automatically a tool I can use to help you."
Curious bewilderment fluttered briefly against Wilson's skin but settled into acceptance.
"So, what would you like to get out of these sessions?" Wilson asked, jotting down a note to remind himself to keep track of how quickly emotions come and go throughout sessions.
He felt identifying a baseline might be useful if he ever sees Kal on a bad day – whatever that might turn out to be.
"I suppose, simply, extra help. I've handled typical stresses of rescues well with my family and friends, and even the more serious things, like Nightfall or when my aura tore, but this last one. . . . It's different.”
Wilson waited patiently as Superman frowned.
He felt an uneasiness pulse against him. He likened it to feeling apprehensive about a coming thunderstorm.
"I'm having nightmares. I've had nightmares in the past and worked through them without much issue, but those were nowhere near as intense. Of course, I wasn't feeling anywhere as much in those."
"Okay, so nightmares. How often are you having them?" Wilson asked, jotting down another note.
"Once every three or four times I sleep. Fortunately, I don't need to sleep as much as humans."
"How often do you need to sleep?"
"It's a little hard to say, to be honest. Before Ta'peel, I usually just did three hours a night or about two solid nights a week. And that is really just because of habit. I could probably get away with less and not feel any different. I've only ever been tired after an extended period of strenuous rescue work or from an injury. Sleep deprivation in normal circumstances hasn't ever been an issue for me."
"And now? Are you still getting enough sleep?"
"Yeah. If I end up having a nightmare, I just try again the next night and I've been fine. I've only had one time of it being back-to-back, and even so I had plenty of sleep the following night for it not to matter. What I'm concerned about is if I have a back-to-back instance coupled with a long rescue I need to cover. Like flooding on the other side of the world or something like that," Kal said.
Wilson nodded his understanding, mentally comparing the issue with a fireman who was having occasional sleep issues but was still on call.
"Alright. Anything else you want help with?” Wilson asked gently.
“Well, I’ve already started addressing it, but I’d like to prevent myself from reacting badly to . . . touch. Nothing has happened yet, but because of my strength, I have to always be careful,” Kal said.
“Touch? Could you explain?”
“From hands. Ta’peel and his son had . . . well, that’s how they drained me. Since I recovered, I’ve asked a number of people to help me, I hope, become desensitized to being touched like that so I don’t get startled, or worse, have a flashback.”
“Have you ever had a flashback?” Wilson asked. “And that includes before Ta’peel.”
“No, I. . . .” Kal frowned, and Wilson felt unease whirl around him. “Actually, I don’t know. I had a few things happen soon after Nightfall, when my memories and powers were returning. One was right after my first press conference after returning from Nightfall. A number of my visual abilities suddenly began returning at once when I was heading inside and I barely made it to the stairwell out of sight from the crowds when memories surfaced. I even got nauseous from the smells in some of the memories, but they also helped show me how to get control of my abilities, so I don’t know if that really counts as a standard ‘flashback’, due to the circumstances.”
“Hmm, well, I’ll note it just the same. With your eidetic memory, it makes sense to be proactive here," Wilson agreed before suddenly realizing something. "Is that why Mav touched you before we came up?"
"Yeah. I've asked certain Foundation employees and volunteers to help me in this if they feel comfortable, as well as a few people outside. Right now, there's about fourteen who are helping. Most are inside the Foundation."
"That's very good. I think you have a solid handle on that, but we'll be sure to keep track of the progress there," Wilson said, pleased with how well their first session was going. "How are you adjusting to the eyepatch?" he asked, deciding it was safe to probe a little more directly than he normally would.
"Fairly well, I think. I can't use any of my visual abilities in that eye anymore, of course; so having my eye covered is actually a help, especially as a reminder because heat from my heat vision can still collect, which is most uncomfortable. That required some relearning," he said, unconcerned.
"And socially? People are adjusting well to the change?" Wilson asked, once again pleased with the responses he was getting.
Kal-El was a well-grounded individual. His services, technically, might not even be needed!
"More or less. It's only been a month or so, so I'm keeping my expectations low," he said.
"The volunteers downstairs seem to have accepted it. I didn't notice any awkwardness, which, I must say, is rather impressive," Wilson appraised.
"I think my aura helps. There's instant feedback in both directions and, whether it's subconscious or not, that tempers things more easily. Out in public, it's different because I normally don't have my aura extended. And if it is extended, there's usually more important things to be concerned about," Kal explained.
"Do your people use auras as well as speech and telepathy then?" he asked curiously.
"Uh, no. Just speech and telepathy," he answered.
There was suddenly a twinge in the air. It lasted just long enough for Wilson to identify a poignant loneliness.
"My aura is unique. I'm known as an Ekhyad among my people, which is sort of. . . ." He sighed. "Well, they're held in high regard but . . . feared, ironically. I’m unfortunately not exaggerating, the people of Earth are more relaxed around me than my own kind.”
"Is that one of the reasons why you didn’t go with them?"
"No. I had decided to stay on Earth long before I even knew I was an Ekhyad or imagined they would fear me," he said.
"I see. Well, I'm glad you decided to stay," he said honestly, wondering and hoping Kal could feel how much he meant it.
"Thanks. I feel very lucky my parents sent me here, and I only became more fortunate when I was found by my current family. Things could have been very different," he said.
Wilson was about to agree, when Kal tilted his head, his eye seemingly glazing over before snapping back on him.
"Pile-up. I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow if I don't see you sooner. Feel free to get to know the volunteers," he stated.
And then he was gone.
It was very startling, if only because for some reason it was easy to forget he could move like that if he wished.
It was certainly going to be an interesting week. Then after, if they both felt the arrangement was beneficial, Superman would begin coming to Wyoming for his appointments with intermittent instances of Wilson coming to Metropolis.
After this first session, Wilson was pretty sure he would be seeing Kal in Wyoming.
O o O o O
Lois stepped into the Daily Planet. The past few weeks had been a slow advance to a new normal.
It had taken two weeks for the special eye contact to come in, which in itself was quite impressive. It normally took four weeks, sometimes six. Granted, this was for Superman, so she imagined that encouraged the company to work overtime to get it done faster. However, it still meant Clark couldn’t be seen out in public in that time. So, during those two weeks, they informed those who needed to know that Clark’s parents required some help on the farm so Clark wouldn’t be in Metropolis for a few weeks. Thankfully, no one questioned that, and Lois took about a week off from work to enjoy ‘small town life’ with her husband for a bit as well. Perry didn’t press, and no one else did either. Of course, the world in general was taking stock of things. From personal to communal, Ta’peel and his son, Rimma, had rocked the world.
There was now no denying that there were things that went bump in the night, and the night included the vastness of space.
The UN now had a World Defense Plan. Taking what they had learned in the counter assault against the Parasites, they created a special task force that would be formed from the world militaries and would work with the Foundation if there was ever another attack. The Treaty of El remained unchanged, and as Kal-El’s pre-emptive actions with the US government and the UN had enabled them to eventually bring down Ta’peel and his son, Rimma, no one expressed any concerns there.
However, it had brought the weapons they had used against them, especially Rimma, under scrutiny.
And so the world now knew the existence of Kryptonite and that Superman, before anyone had fully known the threat that was coming, had willingly divulged his weakness to the US and UN to prepare, just in case. A material that rendered his abilities moot and made him utterly vulnerable and weak. Kal's fear had been that Nor himself, or agents of his (Kryptonians), would come. He wanted to ensure Earth was protected if he couldn’t stop the threat.
Any noises of malcontent against Superman evaporated after that was learned.
Lois sighed, pushing her thoughts on that UN meeting away. She needed to focus on finishing her article on the construction corruption - she had finally broken the story.
Several construction managers, city inspectors, and contractors had been arrested on a wide range of charges, including: reckless endangerment, embezzlement, racketeering, and fraud.
It was nice to know she still had it.
“Hello, wife,” Clark said, approaching her desk with a surprise morning coffee.
She smiled, ignoring her co-workers. They were used to this anyway. About once a week, they could expect Lois’ husband to briefly show up with a full, steaming mug. “Hello, husband.”
Her eyes locked onto his, and she was once again awed by how remarkably real his contact looked.
The makers of the contact really had done an astonishing job. He wore it whenever he was awake, even as Superman, under his eyepatch. He felt it was unwise to fumble with it when changing in and out of the suit, and it would certainly be a disaster if he didnt have it in as Clark.
Fortunately, he could tell when it was in and when it wasn't. Not just by the feel but by how much light he could see. The contact seemed to narrow the bright fog. Or at least that's what he told her.
She took the offered mug and inhaled the wonderful scent.
"Thanks, Clark," she said, before she saw the familiar tilt of his head.
/Fire at a high school,/ he thought to her before speaking.
"Well, I need to go," he said, pecking her cheek.
"Okay, have a good day," she said, while trying to push out a thought to him. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn’t.
"You too," he replied, before mentally adding, /I felt the intention of your thought that time. And don't worry, I'll be careful./
She smiled, feeling his joy at her telepathy progress as he headed out.
O o O o O
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