Fanfic: Salvation Ch. 1/11
So, I wrote this over a year ago and I just finished it the other day after being stuck with writers block for so long. This takes place at the very end of Season 8, and was originally how I pictured the first few episodes of Season 9 before we had gotten any spoilers or news. Also, it is purely coincidental that this has the same name as the Season 9 finale. I wrote this before that ever came out, so I did not steal that title. I could probably change it, but I don't want to : P
Title: Salvation (by kg1507)
Pairing: Clark/Lois
Rating: R, M (later on)
Warnings: Not too many really, but it will be more adult towards the end.
Chapter 1
1:33am - Metropolis
The wind was fierce tonight. Gusts up to forty miles per hour had been predicted the last few days, but tonight was by far the worst yet. Anywhere else, people would have been hiding away in the comfort of their homes while the chilly night air left them unscathed, but not here. No, in Metropolis, it took a lot more than a little weather to keeps its citizens indoors. Unfortunately, it also meant that the crime never rested - and because of this, neither did Clark Kent.
No, not Clark Kent anymore… Kal-El. He did not associate himself with this human name and was no longer bound to human customs. He did not socialize with their race or seek out companionship, for he knew it would be all too easy to become attached again. He barely ate or slept anymore, consumed with his one purpose in life: to bring justice to this evil and sickening planet. He wouldn’t even show himself in daylight unless it was absolutely necessary or when he desperately needed to recharge with the sun’s enormous power. The only human he remained in contact with was Martha Kent, the woman who had raised him. He felt he owed her at least one conversation a week for keeping him from death, but many of his nights were spent wishing he’d never been found. Even though conversations were short and he knew his distance was hurting one of the few people who ever completely loved him, Clark could not bear to speak to anyone. His heart tugged painfully from the moment he picked up the phone from its cradle to the hours after her voice had faded away, when he would sit in his dark hovel of an apartment while he waited for the filth of the streets to emerge from the shadows, wallowing in self-loathing.
The wind was fierce tonight, but for Clark it was no matter. He heard much, much more than the wind.
Four million cars honking horns obnoxiously down the streets, running through puddles with splashes that sounded like ocean waves crashing on the shore, a hundred-thousand dogs barking, howling, whining and growling, television shows blasting their ridiculous theme songs in his eardrums, and then there were the sounds of the people - my God, the people.
Billions of words spoken every day - there wasn’t one Clark hadn’t heard by now. Millions of conversations echoing in his head, the sounds of laughter, crying, anger, excitement, fear, the screams, the passionate love-words whispered late at night, he could hear everything right down to the very breaths of each individual of Metropolis. But none of this mattered to him, because the only voice he ever wanted to hear again was hers. He only needed the sound of her laugh or the beating of her heart, just as long as he knew she was safe. As long as he knew she was safe, then he could let her go and forget humanity entirely. But for three months, he had yet to hear her utter a single syllable.
Day and night, he would keep one ear out for her, filtering through the less important and altogether meaningless chatter looking for that one voice. And whenever the crime had been taken care of for the day, he would come rest here - on the roof of the Daily Planet, and listen again. Being here was painful, but it made him feel closer to her even though she was farther away than he ever imagined a person could be. It was also one of the tallest buildings in the city and Clark had realized that the higher up he was, tge more enhanced his hearing became. He had spent much of his time intensely studying his abilities, pushing himself to his limits and then shattering them. Since that day, Clark could now shoot an entire inferno just by focusing on Jimmy’s brutal death. He could lift a ten-ton boulder easily and throw it like a baseball when he thought of Chloe crying in his arms. And he could hear a pin drop a hundred miles away while he searched for Lois - a search he feared would never end.
Cutting himself off from humanity had done wonders for his powers, but it only turned him into cold hard stone that couldn’t be touched by anything.
A sharp scream filled his ears and he turned his attention to the north. He focused like a living telescope, pin-pointing the exact location. In less than a second he had leaped from the roof and super-sped to the corner of eighteenth and nineteenth street six miles away from the Planet. It was a mugging, very common in this part of town. The guy was big and burly, wearing tattered clothes and a faded red beanie on top of greasy curls. He had a handbag slung across his shoulder while a woman lay not quite face-down on the asphalt, eyes wide open in fear. The criminal’s foot was just inches away from kicking her in the face.
Clark thrust one arm out, knocking the guy into a brick wall just hard enough to knock him unconscious and then scooped the woman up in his strong arms, gently setting her down ten or so yards away from her attacker. He sped away into a dark alley not to far away to wait. The woman’s eyes turned from fear to utter confusion when she saw the man completely passed out in front of her, but she didn’t stick around to ask questions. Turning in the opposite direction, she ran a few blocks at full-speed, and only when Clark heard her hail for a cab and the sound of the door slam shut did he shift his focus. He sped back to the now-unconscious man, dropping a red and blue piece of paper between his coat and shirt:
Consider yourself warned.
He only ever let the milder criminals get off with a warning. Why, he would never know. But he never saw any of their work again.
Once more, the Red-Blue Blur formally known as Clark Kent disappeared into the night, with only a trail of wind for company.