SV fic: The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning (pt. 2)
Chloe and Kal-El talk a few days after we last left them. Chloe/Kal-El, teen, this part is 3300 words.
a/n:Eek, I am very late in updating this. I also need to make myself a Kal-El icon. I don't have an appropriate icon for this story.
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Days after their confrontation in the caves, he shows up at the apartment she is sharing with her father. Her dad is out, at his day job in Granville.
Chloe opens the door, revealing him on her doorstep. It is a surprise to see him there. Conflicted feelings wash over her. He could be here to tell her world domination is no longer in his agenda, or he could be here to tell her he does indeed plan to conquer her world. A part of her doesn’t want to know either way.
“Clark,” she states flatly.
“I am Kal-El,” he reminds her, insisting on this name he has chosen. “Please remember that.”
“Right…Kal-El.”
The thing is she doesn’t want to remember that his name is Kal-El, not Clark. She wants Clark, wants her farm boy back, the smiling boy she has been in love for with years. Kal-El has said Clark is gone, and all she wants is him back. Clark is the one she loves, the one she respects, the one she trusts. Kal-El is an unknown entity. Beyond that he believes his destiny is to conquer the world, she knows nothing about him. His conviction to his so-called destiny is frightening, and she tries to remind herself to tread cautiously. Of course, treading cautiously is always easier said than done, and she’s notoriously bad at it.
Stepping away from the door, she waits for him to enter, perhaps throwing caution to the wind by letting him into her living space. Since he is here, he must want to talk to her, likely wants to tell her his decision. She could refuse to allow him entry, that might make the most sense, but she lives in an apartment building and has noisy neighbors. Her father would probably appreciate her not getting them evicted from this small apartment. They can’t afford much else.
It takes a moment before Kal-El does enter. He looks at her as he walks across the threshold, his gaze what a novelist might call penetrating. Chloe has never been fond of silly adjectives, at least when using them to apply to her own life, but she thinks calling the way he looks at her a penetrating gaze would not be overstating reality. Not that she would ever admit to this. There is something very childish about thinking in terms such as those, so she believes.
They head towards the living room, the largest room in the small two-bedroom apartment she shares with her father. It isn’t full of furniture though, just a couch, a TV and its stand, and a small table in the dining room area that is conjoined with the living room. The small kitchen is off of the dining area while the bedrooms lay next to the living room, a narrow hallway separating the bedrooms from the kitchen.
In the living room, the far end wall is largely a sliding glass window that stretches most of the width of the living room. The whitish blinds are drawn today, letting in the afternoon sun. The living room is golden with light as the window faces west. She has intentionally let the room become this golden-hued, wanting the brightness. School has been dull and colorless, long days she feels no connection to. Clark and Pete are gone, Lana is barely there it seems. And after her confrontation with Kal-El four days ago in the dim caves a room that is bright and yellowish appeals greatly to her.
He stands out, though, with his dark clothing, dark hair, and pale skin. In the golden glow his features are sharp, not soften like she would have expected. But maybe that’s because she keeps thinking of the Clark she has known since she was thirteen, and the Clark standing in her living room right now isn’t that Clark. She remembers how Clark has looked standing in sunlight and she makes comparisons.
Chloe gives herself a mental shake. She can think about Clark later, when she’s alone, when there isn’t an alien threatening world domination in her living room.
“You can sit,” she says. She gestures towards the couch.
They have come to a standstill in the space between the living room and the dining room. There is no dividing line officially between the two rooms. Really it is just one big room. They could stand in this space and have this conversation. They could, but she doesn’t want that. Sitting on a couch seems less confrontational.
He does as she says and sits down on the couch. The living room, sadly lacking furniture, offers her no place to sit but on the couch. Kal-El has sat down at the end of the couch, on the cushion closest to the sliding glass window. Chloe takes a seat on the cushion closest to the dining, leaving the middle cushion unoccupied. The middle cushion represents the space between them, the space that understandably exists. Kal-El isn’t Clark, so of course she doesn’t plop right down next to him. Instead she leaves room between them and sits down slowly, carefully. No sudden movement.
If this was an interview with an informant, she would start slowly. She would start with the easy questions, put the interviewee at ease. She would try not to rush, knowing that any premature segue would likely cause the person to clam up. Interviewing is a skill, not necessarily a skill that is easy to learn. She’s still learning, and at times her natural inclination towards getting to the meat of the story as quickly as possible undermines her efforts. Curiosity is her Achilles’ heel.
She should most likely start slow with Kal-El, but her curiosity is too great. So instead of easing in, she dives.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, keeping her voice light. She may be diving into the conversation, but she does attempt to do so in a way that would cause him to set her on fire. A moment later she adds, “How did you find me anyways? I’m not listed in the phone book yet.”
“I used your heartbeat to find you. Each heartbeat is unique and it makes for a satisfactory tracking tool.”
“My heartbeat…You can hear my heartbeat? You know my heartbeat?”
“Yes,” he answers simply. “I memorized when we were in the caves.”
“That’s one of your nifty alien powers I suppose,” she says, mentally wincing at her use of the word nifty. Sometimes she needs to think before she speaks. That is another one of her issues.
Sometimes she thinks she has too many issues.
“You could put it that. Yes.”
“How many powers do you have? What does the catalog look like?”
Chloe curls her legs beneath her body, turning slightly so she can see him more fully. She wants to watch the expressions on his face, if he makes any. If he shifts, if there are any indications of nervousness, she wants to see and record these. Through this she may come to understand him, a goal she has always strived for. She has a need to understand people. She had wanted so badly to understand Clark, although she never truly could. The secrets Clark kept made sure of that. Now Clark is supposedly gone, leaving her only with the option of understanding Kal-El. And maybe, just maybe, through this she’ll come to understand Clark.
You never know what could happen.
“I can fly, I can shoot fire from my eyes, an ability Clark named heat-vision.” Kal-El offers her a half-smile, a vaguely smug-looking smile. “He had other amusing little names for our abilities. Super-strength, super-speed, x-ray vision, super-hearing. I’m invulnerable. There are other abilities Clark was unaware of, abilities he fortunately never had the opportunity to name.”
Blinking rapidly, she considers all the powers Kal-El has confessed to possessing. The amount of power he wields astounds her. She knew he was strong, but she didn’t imagine he would have this range of abilities. Beyond his abilities, he’s invulnerable: he is a boy god. This knowledge confirms that he could bring this world to its knees, a frightening prospect.
She swallows heavily. “I see…that’s quite an impressive catalog. Lots to choose from,” she says. She can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest.
“You are frightened of me,” he states. There’s a blank expression of his face and she has no idea what he is thinking. She hates that.
Clark was always so revealing with his facial expressions. She catches herself on the use of ‘was’, hating that she has slipped repeatedly into thinking of Clark in the past tense. She doesn’t want him to be gone, to be discussed only in the past tense. He belongs in the present tense, not in the past. Yet she wonders if he’ll ever belong to the present again or if he’s gone for good, a personality washed away so Kal-El can play.
She nudges aside the thought, telling herself to think of Clark later, and answers Kal-El’s question. She says, “Can you blame me? You have all these abilities, these powers which boggle the mind in their scope. You say you’re invulnerable. Just days ago you told me you had plans to take over the world. Can you blame me for being frightened?”
Perhaps she shouldn’t be laying out why she’s afraid. Perhaps she should have denied her fear, should have lied to him. But instead the truth poured from her, perhaps her way of returning the truth he has given her. Or the truth she assumes he has given to her. She has no way of knowing just what the truth is.
“I suppose your fright is understandable.”
There is a brief moment of silence. Chloe is the one to break it.
“Do you have any weaknesses? Yodeling music perhaps?” She thinks for a second. “I guess you wouldn’t want to give out that info.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Then: “The green meteor rocks, what Clark called Kryptonite…that is my weakness. That is the only thing which can kill me.”
“I see. Why tell me?”
Her curiosity knows no bounds it seems. He has just told her what his weakness is and she is demanding to know why he had told her. She just wants to know everything, the need compelling. It’s the same feeling she has had before, when she has been hunting after a story. She’s the type of person who always seems to have questions and who always wanted these questions answered. Not knowing is a state of being she fears, one which makes her uncomfortable.
For the most part, she has never minded being this person. It is who she is. Sometimes she worries it’ll lead her into trouble. This need has lead her astray before, has caused distance between her and Clark. She should tread carefully, but more often than not she doesn’t. Today is no exception.
“I thought about what you said to me at the caves. Your words…they made logical sense. I have spent much of the past days thinking and comparing what you have argued with my father’s instructions.”
“I see,” she says slowly. “And you’ve come to a decision?”
There’s a piece of hair in her eyes, and she pushes it back. The strand of hair keeps escaping her attempts to place it behind her ear. It distracts her as she waits for him to respond, although she doesn’t have to wait long.
Kal-El, at least, doesn’t make her wait, not at this moment.
(Later he will, but that’s later. She’ll make him wait as well. Neither will be innocent later, although likely they weren’t innocent at all by the time everything had begun.)
“I have. You made valid points. I want to believe in my father’s vision of my destiny, but uncertainty has made this impossible. I have all the necessary tools to achieve my destiny, I could, yet something in me prevents me from surrendering to his vision. I do not trust his vision and so I will not be taking steps towards achieving the future my father has laid out for me.”
“Conquering the world has been crossed off of your to-do list?”
“Yes. For now at least,” he adds meaningfully.
Chloe nods, and tucks that annoying strand of hair behind her ear again. His commitment not to conquer the world at this moment and rule it is something at the very least, better than nothing. Perhaps all she can expect from someone who is still being tugged towards his so-called destiny. She wonders about the invisible threads which tie him to what his “father” has planned for him. She wonders how strong those threads are, how taut they are currently stretched, and wonders how difficult it was for him to make this decision.
But she doesn’t ask a question to deal with those curiosities. She suspects he won’t answer her if she does that, so she keeps quiet, a rare time when she can restrain herself. She is glad that the plans for world domination are off, she won’t tempt him to change his mind by being noisy and ungrateful for what he has offered. There are times when she sees the larger picture, and this is one of those times.
“I’m glad,” she says, smiling a bit, hoping the smile looks genuine. It’s always hard to know because you can’t see yourself smile. He looks at her blankly. She adds, “I like my freedom. There’s something to be said for being in control of your life, being the captain of your own ship.”
“Are you attempting to suggest that it is better for me not to follow my father’s plans because this means I will be the captain of my own ship?”
Her words sound slightly odd coming from Kal-El. He speaks in a formal, almost flat tone.
“I’m not really suggesting anything. I’m just commenting on freedom and its perks. It has its appeal, at least to me and the rest of the world.”
“One could argue many people are not free,” he says calmly. “Freedom is in many ways an illusion. A cherished illusion, of course, but nevertheless there is no such thing as being utterly free.”
Chloe shifts a bit on the couch, somewhat discomforted by his words. Thinking freedom is merely an illusion is disquieting to her, for she has always been proud of her ability to make her choices for her own life. She doesn’t like to think that perhaps her choices are dictated by forces outside of her control, regardless of whether these forces are human-based or supernaturally located. She would like to think there is freedom, that this element of control is outweighed by the freedom they possess.
She tells him this. “Maybe we aren’t all free and maybe there is no such thing as complete freedom, but I like to think we are free to a significant degree. I like to think we’ve come a long way from the days of serfdom.”
“It is your right to believe that, just as it is my right to disagree.”
Once more she nods. “It is,” she says, wishing they didn’t have to agree to disagree. Then again, she wouldn’t have thought they would agree on much. “So tell me, Kal-El, now that you aren’t going to pillage the world, what do you plan to do?”
“I am still undecided on this front.”
“What about what I suggested? Would you consider trying to be what we call a hero, someone who helps people and through that shows to the world what it should inspire to be like?”
“You are frightened of my abilities and yet you encourage me to use them. Is that not contradictory?”
“It’s one way to lessen the fear a person would have over that laundry list of abilities you have,” she explains. “With great power comes great responsibility. By demonstrating that you can use that power responsibly and can use it to help people, I think you prove that you aren’t someone to fear solely because of your powers. I would like to think you could be that person, that hero. I think you could be, if you wanted to.”
“You make it sound all very nice in theory, but I am not sure of what my future holds. I will have to think about it some more,” he says.
“Fair enough. I…I appreciate you coming and telling me your decision. It means a lot to me.”
For the first time an expression crosses his face, a sort of puzzlement look she has seen on Clark’s face before. That is likely why she can recognize it. Seeing it, her stomach flips a bit, dancing butterflies. A reminder of Clark, and there’s a sharp tug at her heart. She misses her best friend.
Kal-El stands, as if this will help him regain any lost composure. “You requested I come and tell you my decision. I came as a result.”
Something flutters inside her, and she stands as well. “But you didn’t have to come and tell me,” she points out. “It’s not like you had any real obligation. You didn’t even agree to come and see me at the caves.”
“That is true. I felt…compelled, I suppose, to fulfill your request.”
“You don’t like feeling that, do you?” she says, the question mostly rhetorical. Regardless, Kal-El shakes his head. Chloe takes a step closer to him. “We’re been friends for several years, you know. It’s not that surprising you would feel a need to do as I asked. It’s what people do when they care about someone.”
“I am not Clark Kent.”
“Aren’t you though?” She smiles softly and adds, “You have his memories I assume. You know how he felt about me, about anyone in his life really. Is it really that much of a shocker that those feelings might be influencing you?”
“I should be leaving. I have much to think about,” he says, ignoring her questions. His expression is blank once more as he stands in the middle of her living room. His body blocks some of the sunlight coming in through the window, his body backlit by yellow-white light. He is startlingly beautiful in the light, a fact which she notes almost absently. Clark has always been beautiful; it doesn’t seem that surprising that Kal-El would be as well.
She reaches out to touch his arm, ever so lightly, her fingers brushing his bare skin. She can feel the hair on his arm, in that brief moment when she touches him. “Keep me updated, please.”
There is a brief pause. Then he says, “I will.”
His words are spoken as if they are a promise. She has no clue if he will honor this promise, can only hope he will. Something deep inside her wants to make sure she stays a figure in Kal-El’s life. He is Clark after all, whether he likes it or not, and exclusion from Clark’s life has never been something she could tolerate. Her need to know, she supposes. Her love contributes as well.
She pulls back her arm, allowing him to leave. He does, moving by her swiftly. Then the front door is closing with a soft snick and she’s alone again.
She sits back down on the couch, taking the spot where he had been sitting. The cushion is warm from his body heat. She sits on the couch in her sun-drenched living room, thinking about what has occurred. She thinks about boy gods with powers far greater than anyone possesses, powers which could be used to crush the world she loves. He has said he won’t conquer, at least not right now, but still she worries. She supposes that is only natural.
Like she told him, with great power comes great responsibility. With great power comes also great fear.
As it has been said, power corrupts. She can only hope he won’t be corrupted.
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TBC
Comments are always nice.
a/n:Eek, I am very late in updating this. I also need to make myself a Kal-El icon. I don't have an appropriate icon for this story.
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Days after their confrontation in the caves, he shows up at the apartment she is sharing with her father. Her dad is out, at his day job in Granville.
Chloe opens the door, revealing him on her doorstep. It is a surprise to see him there. Conflicted feelings wash over her. He could be here to tell her world domination is no longer in his agenda, or he could be here to tell her he does indeed plan to conquer her world. A part of her doesn’t want to know either way.
“Clark,” she states flatly.
“I am Kal-El,” he reminds her, insisting on this name he has chosen. “Please remember that.”
“Right…Kal-El.”
The thing is she doesn’t want to remember that his name is Kal-El, not Clark. She wants Clark, wants her farm boy back, the smiling boy she has been in love for with years. Kal-El has said Clark is gone, and all she wants is him back. Clark is the one she loves, the one she respects, the one she trusts. Kal-El is an unknown entity. Beyond that he believes his destiny is to conquer the world, she knows nothing about him. His conviction to his so-called destiny is frightening, and she tries to remind herself to tread cautiously. Of course, treading cautiously is always easier said than done, and she’s notoriously bad at it.
Stepping away from the door, she waits for him to enter, perhaps throwing caution to the wind by letting him into her living space. Since he is here, he must want to talk to her, likely wants to tell her his decision. She could refuse to allow him entry, that might make the most sense, but she lives in an apartment building and has noisy neighbors. Her father would probably appreciate her not getting them evicted from this small apartment. They can’t afford much else.
It takes a moment before Kal-El does enter. He looks at her as he walks across the threshold, his gaze what a novelist might call penetrating. Chloe has never been fond of silly adjectives, at least when using them to apply to her own life, but she thinks calling the way he looks at her a penetrating gaze would not be overstating reality. Not that she would ever admit to this. There is something very childish about thinking in terms such as those, so she believes.
They head towards the living room, the largest room in the small two-bedroom apartment she shares with her father. It isn’t full of furniture though, just a couch, a TV and its stand, and a small table in the dining room area that is conjoined with the living room. The small kitchen is off of the dining area while the bedrooms lay next to the living room, a narrow hallway separating the bedrooms from the kitchen.
In the living room, the far end wall is largely a sliding glass window that stretches most of the width of the living room. The whitish blinds are drawn today, letting in the afternoon sun. The living room is golden with light as the window faces west. She has intentionally let the room become this golden-hued, wanting the brightness. School has been dull and colorless, long days she feels no connection to. Clark and Pete are gone, Lana is barely there it seems. And after her confrontation with Kal-El four days ago in the dim caves a room that is bright and yellowish appeals greatly to her.
He stands out, though, with his dark clothing, dark hair, and pale skin. In the golden glow his features are sharp, not soften like she would have expected. But maybe that’s because she keeps thinking of the Clark she has known since she was thirteen, and the Clark standing in her living room right now isn’t that Clark. She remembers how Clark has looked standing in sunlight and she makes comparisons.
Chloe gives herself a mental shake. She can think about Clark later, when she’s alone, when there isn’t an alien threatening world domination in her living room.
“You can sit,” she says. She gestures towards the couch.
They have come to a standstill in the space between the living room and the dining room. There is no dividing line officially between the two rooms. Really it is just one big room. They could stand in this space and have this conversation. They could, but she doesn’t want that. Sitting on a couch seems less confrontational.
He does as she says and sits down on the couch. The living room, sadly lacking furniture, offers her no place to sit but on the couch. Kal-El has sat down at the end of the couch, on the cushion closest to the sliding glass window. Chloe takes a seat on the cushion closest to the dining, leaving the middle cushion unoccupied. The middle cushion represents the space between them, the space that understandably exists. Kal-El isn’t Clark, so of course she doesn’t plop right down next to him. Instead she leaves room between them and sits down slowly, carefully. No sudden movement.
If this was an interview with an informant, she would start slowly. She would start with the easy questions, put the interviewee at ease. She would try not to rush, knowing that any premature segue would likely cause the person to clam up. Interviewing is a skill, not necessarily a skill that is easy to learn. She’s still learning, and at times her natural inclination towards getting to the meat of the story as quickly as possible undermines her efforts. Curiosity is her Achilles’ heel.
She should most likely start slow with Kal-El, but her curiosity is too great. So instead of easing in, she dives.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, keeping her voice light. She may be diving into the conversation, but she does attempt to do so in a way that would cause him to set her on fire. A moment later she adds, “How did you find me anyways? I’m not listed in the phone book yet.”
“I used your heartbeat to find you. Each heartbeat is unique and it makes for a satisfactory tracking tool.”
“My heartbeat…You can hear my heartbeat? You know my heartbeat?”
“Yes,” he answers simply. “I memorized when we were in the caves.”
“That’s one of your nifty alien powers I suppose,” she says, mentally wincing at her use of the word nifty. Sometimes she needs to think before she speaks. That is another one of her issues.
Sometimes she thinks she has too many issues.
“You could put it that. Yes.”
“How many powers do you have? What does the catalog look like?”
Chloe curls her legs beneath her body, turning slightly so she can see him more fully. She wants to watch the expressions on his face, if he makes any. If he shifts, if there are any indications of nervousness, she wants to see and record these. Through this she may come to understand him, a goal she has always strived for. She has a need to understand people. She had wanted so badly to understand Clark, although she never truly could. The secrets Clark kept made sure of that. Now Clark is supposedly gone, leaving her only with the option of understanding Kal-El. And maybe, just maybe, through this she’ll come to understand Clark.
You never know what could happen.
“I can fly, I can shoot fire from my eyes, an ability Clark named heat-vision.” Kal-El offers her a half-smile, a vaguely smug-looking smile. “He had other amusing little names for our abilities. Super-strength, super-speed, x-ray vision, super-hearing. I’m invulnerable. There are other abilities Clark was unaware of, abilities he fortunately never had the opportunity to name.”
Blinking rapidly, she considers all the powers Kal-El has confessed to possessing. The amount of power he wields astounds her. She knew he was strong, but she didn’t imagine he would have this range of abilities. Beyond his abilities, he’s invulnerable: he is a boy god. This knowledge confirms that he could bring this world to its knees, a frightening prospect.
She swallows heavily. “I see…that’s quite an impressive catalog. Lots to choose from,” she says. She can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest.
“You are frightened of me,” he states. There’s a blank expression of his face and she has no idea what he is thinking. She hates that.
Clark was always so revealing with his facial expressions. She catches herself on the use of ‘was’, hating that she has slipped repeatedly into thinking of Clark in the past tense. She doesn’t want him to be gone, to be discussed only in the past tense. He belongs in the present tense, not in the past. Yet she wonders if he’ll ever belong to the present again or if he’s gone for good, a personality washed away so Kal-El can play.
She nudges aside the thought, telling herself to think of Clark later, and answers Kal-El’s question. She says, “Can you blame me? You have all these abilities, these powers which boggle the mind in their scope. You say you’re invulnerable. Just days ago you told me you had plans to take over the world. Can you blame me for being frightened?”
Perhaps she shouldn’t be laying out why she’s afraid. Perhaps she should have denied her fear, should have lied to him. But instead the truth poured from her, perhaps her way of returning the truth he has given her. Or the truth she assumes he has given to her. She has no way of knowing just what the truth is.
“I suppose your fright is understandable.”
There is a brief moment of silence. Chloe is the one to break it.
“Do you have any weaknesses? Yodeling music perhaps?” She thinks for a second. “I guess you wouldn’t want to give out that info.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Then: “The green meteor rocks, what Clark called Kryptonite…that is my weakness. That is the only thing which can kill me.”
“I see. Why tell me?”
Her curiosity knows no bounds it seems. He has just told her what his weakness is and she is demanding to know why he had told her. She just wants to know everything, the need compelling. It’s the same feeling she has had before, when she has been hunting after a story. She’s the type of person who always seems to have questions and who always wanted these questions answered. Not knowing is a state of being she fears, one which makes her uncomfortable.
For the most part, she has never minded being this person. It is who she is. Sometimes she worries it’ll lead her into trouble. This need has lead her astray before, has caused distance between her and Clark. She should tread carefully, but more often than not she doesn’t. Today is no exception.
“I thought about what you said to me at the caves. Your words…they made logical sense. I have spent much of the past days thinking and comparing what you have argued with my father’s instructions.”
“I see,” she says slowly. “And you’ve come to a decision?”
There’s a piece of hair in her eyes, and she pushes it back. The strand of hair keeps escaping her attempts to place it behind her ear. It distracts her as she waits for him to respond, although she doesn’t have to wait long.
Kal-El, at least, doesn’t make her wait, not at this moment.
(Later he will, but that’s later. She’ll make him wait as well. Neither will be innocent later, although likely they weren’t innocent at all by the time everything had begun.)
“I have. You made valid points. I want to believe in my father’s vision of my destiny, but uncertainty has made this impossible. I have all the necessary tools to achieve my destiny, I could, yet something in me prevents me from surrendering to his vision. I do not trust his vision and so I will not be taking steps towards achieving the future my father has laid out for me.”
“Conquering the world has been crossed off of your to-do list?”
“Yes. For now at least,” he adds meaningfully.
Chloe nods, and tucks that annoying strand of hair behind her ear again. His commitment not to conquer the world at this moment and rule it is something at the very least, better than nothing. Perhaps all she can expect from someone who is still being tugged towards his so-called destiny. She wonders about the invisible threads which tie him to what his “father” has planned for him. She wonders how strong those threads are, how taut they are currently stretched, and wonders how difficult it was for him to make this decision.
But she doesn’t ask a question to deal with those curiosities. She suspects he won’t answer her if she does that, so she keeps quiet, a rare time when she can restrain herself. She is glad that the plans for world domination are off, she won’t tempt him to change his mind by being noisy and ungrateful for what he has offered. There are times when she sees the larger picture, and this is one of those times.
“I’m glad,” she says, smiling a bit, hoping the smile looks genuine. It’s always hard to know because you can’t see yourself smile. He looks at her blankly. She adds, “I like my freedom. There’s something to be said for being in control of your life, being the captain of your own ship.”
“Are you attempting to suggest that it is better for me not to follow my father’s plans because this means I will be the captain of my own ship?”
Her words sound slightly odd coming from Kal-El. He speaks in a formal, almost flat tone.
“I’m not really suggesting anything. I’m just commenting on freedom and its perks. It has its appeal, at least to me and the rest of the world.”
“One could argue many people are not free,” he says calmly. “Freedom is in many ways an illusion. A cherished illusion, of course, but nevertheless there is no such thing as being utterly free.”
Chloe shifts a bit on the couch, somewhat discomforted by his words. Thinking freedom is merely an illusion is disquieting to her, for she has always been proud of her ability to make her choices for her own life. She doesn’t like to think that perhaps her choices are dictated by forces outside of her control, regardless of whether these forces are human-based or supernaturally located. She would like to think there is freedom, that this element of control is outweighed by the freedom they possess.
She tells him this. “Maybe we aren’t all free and maybe there is no such thing as complete freedom, but I like to think we are free to a significant degree. I like to think we’ve come a long way from the days of serfdom.”
“It is your right to believe that, just as it is my right to disagree.”
Once more she nods. “It is,” she says, wishing they didn’t have to agree to disagree. Then again, she wouldn’t have thought they would agree on much. “So tell me, Kal-El, now that you aren’t going to pillage the world, what do you plan to do?”
“I am still undecided on this front.”
“What about what I suggested? Would you consider trying to be what we call a hero, someone who helps people and through that shows to the world what it should inspire to be like?”
“You are frightened of my abilities and yet you encourage me to use them. Is that not contradictory?”
“It’s one way to lessen the fear a person would have over that laundry list of abilities you have,” she explains. “With great power comes great responsibility. By demonstrating that you can use that power responsibly and can use it to help people, I think you prove that you aren’t someone to fear solely because of your powers. I would like to think you could be that person, that hero. I think you could be, if you wanted to.”
“You make it sound all very nice in theory, but I am not sure of what my future holds. I will have to think about it some more,” he says.
“Fair enough. I…I appreciate you coming and telling me your decision. It means a lot to me.”
For the first time an expression crosses his face, a sort of puzzlement look she has seen on Clark’s face before. That is likely why she can recognize it. Seeing it, her stomach flips a bit, dancing butterflies. A reminder of Clark, and there’s a sharp tug at her heart. She misses her best friend.
Kal-El stands, as if this will help him regain any lost composure. “You requested I come and tell you my decision. I came as a result.”
Something flutters inside her, and she stands as well. “But you didn’t have to come and tell me,” she points out. “It’s not like you had any real obligation. You didn’t even agree to come and see me at the caves.”
“That is true. I felt…compelled, I suppose, to fulfill your request.”
“You don’t like feeling that, do you?” she says, the question mostly rhetorical. Regardless, Kal-El shakes his head. Chloe takes a step closer to him. “We’re been friends for several years, you know. It’s not that surprising you would feel a need to do as I asked. It’s what people do when they care about someone.”
“I am not Clark Kent.”
“Aren’t you though?” She smiles softly and adds, “You have his memories I assume. You know how he felt about me, about anyone in his life really. Is it really that much of a shocker that those feelings might be influencing you?”
“I should be leaving. I have much to think about,” he says, ignoring her questions. His expression is blank once more as he stands in the middle of her living room. His body blocks some of the sunlight coming in through the window, his body backlit by yellow-white light. He is startlingly beautiful in the light, a fact which she notes almost absently. Clark has always been beautiful; it doesn’t seem that surprising that Kal-El would be as well.
She reaches out to touch his arm, ever so lightly, her fingers brushing his bare skin. She can feel the hair on his arm, in that brief moment when she touches him. “Keep me updated, please.”
There is a brief pause. Then he says, “I will.”
His words are spoken as if they are a promise. She has no clue if he will honor this promise, can only hope he will. Something deep inside her wants to make sure she stays a figure in Kal-El’s life. He is Clark after all, whether he likes it or not, and exclusion from Clark’s life has never been something she could tolerate. Her need to know, she supposes. Her love contributes as well.
She pulls back her arm, allowing him to leave. He does, moving by her swiftly. Then the front door is closing with a soft snick and she’s alone again.
She sits back down on the couch, taking the spot where he had been sitting. The cushion is warm from his body heat. She sits on the couch in her sun-drenched living room, thinking about what has occurred. She thinks about boy gods with powers far greater than anyone possesses, powers which could be used to crush the world she loves. He has said he won’t conquer, at least not right now, but still she worries. She supposes that is only natural.
Like she told him, with great power comes great responsibility. With great power comes also great fear.
As it has been said, power corrupts. She can only hope he won’t be corrupted.
+++
TBC
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