Okay, this is the last of what I see as Triangle spin-offs. Similar to Breaking Up, this is not that similar to Triangle. Rather it takes some of the flashbacks from there and goes in a different direction, and is thus an alt-universe type story from a different universe than either of its predecessors.
So, to start off with, the idea for this story wasn't mine. Credit for that goes completely to Patrick who suggested a story where Clark's attempts to be Superboy were successful. Also, while I hadn't planned on it, I ended up using another of Patrick's ideas for this as well. Throughout Triangle, he kept saying he wanted that universe's Clark to take up as Superman, but with a completely different costume. The reason Patrick wanted that in Triangle doesn't exist here (there is no Superman in this story – from this universe or another), but you can probably guess from the title that Clark isn't exactly dressing as Superboy either. (At least my understanding of Superboy, which is pretty basic, is that he's Superman but younger and in the same costume. This Clark is using a completely different costume.)
Similar to Breaking Up, this story starts with some flashbacks that were liberally “borrowed” from Triangle (changed to first person, although in this case, first person Clark), but fewer of them come from there. There are three flashbacks here, and the third one only starts off the same before it veers off in a different direction.
Although it will probably be pretty clear once you start reading – as opposed to Triangle and Breaking Up, this story does not start with Clark's arrival in Metropolis and subsequent attempt to get a job at the Daily Planet. As you might expect, a story where Clark is successful in super-rescues at a young age requires a younger Clark.
Also, just to let you know what I was thinking – throughout this story there are references to Clark's need for sleep. I'm thinking that a younger Clark may not be fully “developed” in his super-powers and thus may need more sleep than an adult Clark would. Also, I suspect that how much sleep you “need” is based partly on how much sleep you are used to. So, if Clark is used to getting close to eight hours of sleep a night, but is suddenly going out at night to help more, he's going to feel tired until he gets used to the new reduced sleep schedule.
Lastly, given Chad's importance to the last two stories, I felt it was important to mention him here, but don't expect him to play a major part. This chapter has the longest (possibly only?) mention of Chad.
Just for those of you who are curious – the planned posting schedule for this story is once every three days or so. The “or so” is mostly to give leeway for busy weeks when I can't get online that often. However, given that I fully plan to get this posted before the end of June (and probably closer to mid-June since due dates are so uncertain), I'll likely change the posting schedule once I've finished writing. Not sure what I'll bump it up to – that will depend on how long this ends up being and what the date is when I finish.
Okay, just one more thing before I let you get to the story.
A huge thanks to Carol for both her beta work and her detective work. There are a few things in here that we have discussed ad nauseam – and really small things that you'd never even guess I'd bother to get stuck on, but Carol has been incredibly patient with me while I get stuck in these places.
PrologueI awoke with my heart pounding. The dream had been very vivid, or at least the end of the dream had been vivid. I had been free falling. I had awoken before I hit the ground, but the feeling of falling was still with me. I controlled my breathing the way Coach had taught us at football practice the week I had been on the team, reminding myself that it was just a dream. After a few moments, the pounding in my heart slowed down and I opened my eyes to see what time it was.
I glanced to the left where my clock was kept, but it wasn't there. Stranger still, what was in its place was the top of my chest of drawers. I shook my head, trying to wake myself up. Nothing happened.
Cautiously, certain that I was still asleep, I glanced down. Almost instantly, I fell to the ground with a thump. I sat up, looking around in astonishment. I had never had such a vivid dream before and was getting eager to wake up.
“Clark?” Mom came into the room, her voice full of concern. “Are you all right?”
I looked at her in confusion. “I'm fine, Mom. I'm just dreaming.”
“What was that crashing noise?” she asked me.
“I fell. It didn't hurt. I just need to wake up. This is such a weird dream.”
Mom came over to place a hand on my forehead. “Do you have a fever? What's wrong with you? That was no dream, honey, you fell out of bed. How ever did you get all the way over here, though?”
“I'm fine, Mom,” I insisted and after a bit more fussing, she was finally convinced and went back to bed.
I sat on the floor for a few more minutes. When I continued to stay where I was and did not wake up, though, I grew confused. Was this real? Was I not dreaming? But clearly I was – I had been floating in mid-air earlier and had not woken up since then.
I closed my eyes and focused on feeling as weightless as possible. After a moment, I cautiously opened my eyes again. I was floating, nearly at the ceiling. I only stayed there for a moment, before falling towards the ground once more. But at the last minute, mindful of my parents sleeping in the next room, I shot up again, hovering near the ceiling.
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The idea had come to me slowly. I had just mastered flying. After the night I had found myself floating in my sleep, I had worked on it off and on. It was the latest in a series of weird non-human powers to develop and I had found it scary at first. When I learned to use it, though, it was liberating. I had come to terms long ago with the fact that I was different, that I was not like my classmates. Learning to fly gave me the ability to get away from the pain of that, and to experience something wonderful.
My first long distance trip had been to the Great Wall. I had wanted to get as far away from my classmates as possible. It was weird as I knew I was well liked, but I still felt an undercurrent of not belonging. Maybe it was all in my head, because I knew I was different even if they did not, but it did not matter.
Shortly after my trip to the Wall, though, an idea started to take root in my mind. I could do so much with all of the abilities I now had. I thought maybe I could use them, really use them, to help. I wasn't sure how, but I knew I wanted to do it in some way.
For a few weeks, I did nothing, but the idea began to fester in my mind. Then one night I heard the news report on television. There was an earthquake in eastern China, but I waited until Mom and Dad were asleep before going. I wanted to try this, but I was not ready to discuss it yet. So, after they had gone to sleep, I flew over to China. I didn't bother with camouflage as who would know me in China?
It was exhilarating. It was amazing how much I could do. I had never tested my limits quite this way before. I helped several families get to safety and all had been incredibly grateful.
The experience was not without its drawbacks – while I typically needed less sleep than others, I felt tired the next morning from the combination of lack of sleep and physical exhaustion. Plus there were the families I did not save, the little boy who I had carried away and brought to his family, already dead.
Still, overall, the experience was more positive than negative and I felt pleased with the results.
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“You need to be careful, Clark!” Dad was nearly shouting at me. “This behavior… it's admirable that you want to help, son, but you can't keep doing this.”
“Dad, stop worrying,” I said, my voice calm. I wasn't sure why Dad was so upset. Nothing bad had happened.
“I can't stop worrying. You're my son and I love you,” Dad said, his voice gentler now.
“But nothing's going to happen,” I insisted. “Mom, tell him.”
Mom shook her head. “I'm sorry, Clark, but I agree with your father on this. We're not telling you to stop, just to be more cautious.”
I sighed. I appreciated their concern, but what were they so worried about? “What do you think could happen?” I asked, only half embarrassed at the whine in my voice. “Nothing can hurt me.”
Mom sat down and I realized this was going to be a long conversation. “That's not true, Clark, and if you'd stop and think about it, you'd realize that.”
“What?” I asked, confused. I hadn't been hurt since I fell out of my tree house when I was nine – and even then I'd barely cut my arm.
“Do you remember how you felt when you ran into Lana kissing Eric after she failed to show up for your date?” Dad asked.
I turned to him, feeling vaguely annoyed. Why was he reminding me of that? “Yes,” I said, “but what does that…”
“You can get hurt,” Mom interrupted. “Maybe not physically – and we're not sure of that, but regardless, you
can get hurt.”
“So you're saying if I want to help, I can't date?” I asked, still not sure what the connection they were making was.
“No, we're saying you're being too literal when you say you can't get hurt,” Mom said.
“What if someone recognized you?” Dad asked me.
“So what? What could they do about it?” I asked, feeling myself get annoyed again. Why were they being so obstinate?
“Don't you think they'd want to figure out what makes you different?” Mom asked.
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But they couldn't. What would they do?”
“Who knows?” Dad said. “But what if in an attempt to get you to adhere to whatever tests they wanted to set they did something like kidnap your mother?”
“That's…” my voice trailed off as I processed Dad's words. Really processed them. I sat down at the table. “So what should I do?” I asked. It was clear I would need to do something. I wanted to keep helping if I could, but they were right. I needed to be careful. If something happened to Mom or Dad… Well, that was just unacceptable. They had protected me since they had found me in Shuster's Field. The least I could do was not go off and do something stupid that put them in danger.
“What do you mean, "What should you do?'?” Dad asked. “You need to stop.”
“Jonathan,” Mom said, her voice soft, but her tone chiding. “Let's not be rash.”
“How am I being rash?” Dad asked.
“Clark wants to help and maybe he's right,” Mom defended me. “Maybe there is a reason he has these gifts.”
“I won't allow my boy to be dragged into a lab and dissected like a frog!” Dad said, shouting again as he got up.
I watched him quietly, not sure what to do. I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, but this didn't feel like the time. Besides, Mom was much better at calming him down than I was.
Sure enough, she got up and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him. “I don't want that either, and I'm sure Clark agrees. But Jonathan, Clark can't live his life in fear anymore than we can. If he wants to do this, we need to help him, not forbid him.”
“I really want to keep helping people, Dad,” I interjected quietly. “I think… I don't know, but it makes me feel good. Less like an outsider – like maybe these weird things are my way of contributing to make the world a better place.”
Dad broke away from Mom to move over and put a hand on my shoulder. “You are a good boy, Clark Kent.” Then he leaned down and hugged me. I got up so I could hug him better. At sixteen, I still hugged my mom, but it had been years since Dad and I had hugged like this.
“So what do we do?” Dad asked, breaking away, and I smiled. While it was still unclear what we were going to do, there was no question we'd figure it out. With Mom and Dad's help, I could do almost anything.
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The Boy in BlackI looked out over the tables in front of me. It was like being in high school again. Well, maybe not. None of these tables would hold large groups of people, so it was a bit more welcoming. I didn't feel like I needed to pick which clique I was going to try to align myself with before I put my tray down. I did, however, wish I had tried to make plans with someone for lunch, because I felt sincerely intimidated here.
Plus, I must look like an idiot standing in one place with my tray in my hands as if I were afraid to take a seat. Maybe I should have gone to Midwest U after all. I think it would have felt a little more like home.
“Yo, Clark!” a voice surprised me as someone clapped me on the back.
I turned around in surprise. “Hi, Steve,” I said, feeling relieved to see someone I knew.
“A bunch of us are eating outside. Want to join us?” he asked me.
“That sounds great,” I said, making sure to temper my response. I didn't want to sound too relieved. No need for my roommate to think I was completely uncool. At least until he found me floating in my sleep. I shuddered a bit at that. I had considered asking for a single, but Mom and Dad really couldn't afford that. I was sure if I concentrated on it, I would manage not to float in my sleep. Maybe.
I followed Steve outside to a small group of students sitting under a tree. They could have been posing for the Met U catalogue. “Hey guys,” Steve said as we sat down. “This is my roommate, Clark.” He introduced me all around and I promptly forgot everyone's names.
“We're all in the same freshman comp course,” one of the other guys, who was wearing a baseball cap backwards, told me. “It just finished.”
I nodded. “Mine is Tues/Thurs at eight.”
“Man, you'd think they'd be kinder,” Steve said. “English at eight in the morning! I think classes shouldn't start until ten.”
“Or eleven,” a red-haired girl added.
“That would be nice,” Backwards Baseball Cap Guy said.
“So, where are you from?” the red-haired girl asked Steve.
“I'm from New York,” Steve told her. “My dad wanted me to go to school there, but…”
“New York?” the brunette asked with a grimace. “When you can go to school in Metropolis?”
Steve laughed. “That's what I told him. Where are you from?” he asked her.
“Metropolis born and raised,” she said proudly. “I can't imagine wanting to live anywhere else.”
“Where are you from?” the red-haired girl asked me.
“Kansas,” I said.
“Where in Kansas?” Baseball Cap asked. I had only been in Metropolis for a day and I had already learned that everyone asked this, but the only places they'd ever heard of in Kansas were Wichita and Topeka. Not that I would expect anyone to have heard of Smallville, but I wondered why they asked.
“It's a little town in the middle of nowhere. No one's ever heard of it,” I told him.
“What's it called?” the brunette asked and I perceived a challenge in her voice.
“Smallville.”
The red-haired girl laughed. “Smallville? That's seriously the name of where you grew up?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my temper in check. I did understand why everyone thought it was so funny, but it still annoyed me. I felt like I was being labeled a hick without anyone bothering to get to know me.
“Do you know Chad Andrews?” the brunette asked me.
I was startled. “Yeah, of course,” I said. “Smallville is pretty small and Chad and I were in the same grade. How do you know him?”
“His parents are from Metropolis,” she said and when she said it I remembered him mentioning that. I'm not sure how I forgot. It had even come up when we were applying for college. Chad was sure he did not want to go to Met U and when we talked about it, he had smiled. "Why would I want to go back there?' he'd asked. "This is my home now.'
“We went to junior high together,” the brunette continued. She gave a slight blush that made me decide right then that I liked her. “Chad took me to our eighth grade prom.”
“His parents moved from Metropolis to Smallville?” the red-head asked with disdain.
“No, his parents are still here as far as I know,” the brunette said. “Chad spent the summer after eighth grade in Tennessee with some cousins and he loved it. He ended up asking to stay for freshman year and then his cousins moved to Smallville and Chad moved with them. I guess he was just a small town boy at heart.”
I smiled. “Yeah, Chad never seemed like too much of a city boy. He didn't even bother applying to any of the Ivy Leagues for college as he didn't want to have to live in a city. And he could have gotten in easily.”
“Where'd he go?” she asked me.
“Midwest U. It's also in a city, but it's a Midwestern city so that was bearable. Besides, Chad wants to be a doctor so he couldn't go someplace too small or he would have a hard time getting into med school.”
“So, did you ever visit Chad in Smallville, Lois?” the red-head asked with a sneer.
Lois shook her head. “Nah. I'm not all that interested in small towns. I don't blame you one bit for deciding to come here for college,” she told me. For a second I was annoyed at the slight on Smallville, but then I decided to forgive her. There was something about the twinkle in her eye that made it hard to get too annoyed at her.
