When Devils Speak the Truth - chapter two
When Devils Speak the Truth
By AshtakRa
Title: When Devils Speak the Truth
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: As many of them as possible, from as many other fandoms as I can manage and still keep track
Genre: Future Fic, AU, slash, whumpage abounds
Pairings: Clark/Oliver, rest are surprises
Rating: R - that means adults only people, you have been informed
Warnings: MM Slash, death, torture, genocide, apocalyptic themes, sex, sacrifice,
persecution, religious stupidity.
Summary: Clark refuses his destiny and is thrust into the future, a future where he never became the hero he was meant to be. He must survive on an Earth that is dying and face friends and loved ones who can no longer be trusted. Reuniting with Oliver tests the bond they once thought unbreakable and Clark must decide what being a hero actually means.
Link to Chapter One
Chapter 2: The Colour of Blood
Pain…
It was not a new concept; he had felt it before and worse than this but never like this. Without a body he could not localise the pain, it simply was and his whole being was being twisted and stretched. There was light and sound and images of those he cared for, those he knew and many he did not. Faces full of fear and agony, loss and hopelessness. That was the worst; seeing his mother’s face full of tears and such an expression of defeat before she was torn away. Replaced by another, someone he didn’t know, weeping over a crumpled body of a child. Flames the size of skyscrapers were in the background and the mother looked right at him and her eyes screamed one word…why? One face became many, then thousands and more; millions, beyond comprehension. Too much death and far too much pain - what was he seeing and why was Jor’El doing this to him?
CKCKCKCK
The first splinter of consciousness worked its way in to Clark’s world; a world that when he was able to finally open his eyes was complete darkness. The ground beneath him was hard rock, and cold - too cold for the Smallville cave this time of year, but then if the images that had assailed him were correct Clark was guessing he had been transported to another place, or time. X-raying the place he found it was the same cave, different time then? Only one way to find out so he slowly and painfully rolled over and got up on hands and knees, even that small exertion making him pant heavily. After a few minutes he felt ready to stand and did so, immediately falling against the wall as the world spun and he almost vomited, something he could never remember experiencing. Sliding along the wall the door section thankfully slid open as he got close, allowing a small amount of visible light into the chamber. The crystal slot was of course empty and the room had the air of disuse about it, hard for a cave to have that feeling but Clark just sensed that it had been years since anyone had entered this place - probably him.
The outer caves had the same air of disuse, various pieces of equipment lay scattered rusting into the jagged floor. The cold grew stronger the closer he got to the entrance and as he turned the final corner a strange sight greeted him. A small fire burned and beside it sat a young boy, rugged up and apparently dosing against the wall. His pallor was very pale and the only thing that let Clark know he was alive was the sound of his heartbeat. Clark purposefully stepped heavily and the child’s head snapped around and two very wide eyes stared up before his mouth opened and a small squeal popped out. Thankfully his surprise did not last long and admittedly Clark had expected a bigger response, instead the kid just stared and seemed frozen in place.
“Uh, Hi,” said Clark, trying to break the ice. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just um…” Realistically what could he say - that he’d just travelled in from the artic utilizing alien technology and strongly suspected he was now in the future.
“I know,” said the boy matter-of-fact like and jumped up, shaking his legs to get the circulation moving. “You just scared me at’s all, course bein’ that you’re the reason I’m ‘ere is pretty stupid to be frightened yeah?”
“Sure,” answered Clark, not certain if he had been asked a question or not. The child had an accent that seemed part-American, Irish and some other he didn’t recognise. He must have been twelve or thirteen with familiar features - a straight nose below brown eyes and blonde spiky hair. “My name’s Clark,” said Clark and held out a hand. The child and solemnly shook it.
“Robby,” he took his hand back and looked Clark up and down. “You sure are tall - course they said ya would be but,” two mischievous eyes met Clark’s. “The others are gonna be so jealous I found you.”
“Found?” asked Clark, “I didn’t now I was lost.”
Something in Robby’s eyes spoke of knowledge and life that no-one his age should have. “More than you know Kal’El, more than you can ever guess.”
CKCKCKCKCK
Once outside the biting wind hit Clark like a slap in the face. He may be invulnerable to the cold but he could still feel it and if he didn’t know better he would swear he was back in the arctic. The blizzard was thick but he could still see the landscape and although there were differences it was definitely Smallville. The child in front looked back at Clark through the slit in his head wrappings and indicated that Clark should hurry it up. It was hard to move quickly through the deep snow however, even with his strength it was just simple physics.
Looking up at the sky Clark froze in place. The dark cloud had cleared for a moment but little light shone through, and now Clark knew why. The sun above him was dull and lifeless, and worst of all was the colour. A chill up his spine told Clark this was no dream. He was standing on planet Earth, while it froze under the meagre heat of a red sun. What future had he come upon? Robby revealed little more than his name and the fact he was here to guide Clark - beyond that he refused to say.
A red sun! This was definitely Earth; that much Clark knew. Changed and climatically extreme but then what else could he expect if the sun had gone from a life-giving yellow dwarf to a red dwarf. He knew some of the math and what it took for a star to reduce to a red dwarf - and even the most pessimistic scientist had to admit the Earth’s sun was hundreds of millions of years away from that event. This had happened through a third party; if that person was alien or human Clark bet he would soon know.
The other fact had to be that the event was recent, even with the sun still giving light it would not be radiating enough heat to prevent the Earth turning into a ball of ice - literally. There was no way any surface life would survive that, no matter how many layers of clothing they wore or heating devices they used. The cold would destroy the eco-system, dry up all fresh water and turn the planet into a lifeless orb much like Pluto. Even Mars would look like paradise compared to earth under a red sun. This all went through Clark’s head as they followed a trail he could not see but Robby obviously could. Finally after two hours they came to a particularly large mound of snow which as Clark got closer realised had to be artificial. The sides were too steep and the colour just a little bit different from the surrounding drifts.
Robby took out a small device and typed in a code before a section of solid snow opened up and out, steaming air immediately shooting out of the entry. They both entered and the doors closed, leaving Clark to check out his surroundings in a very low light. In fact the only light was coming from a few oil lamps along the wall. They were in some kind of small warehouse, the shelves and tables filled with a variety of engines and devices Clark could not quite recognise. Some were familiar in a way though, since they incorporated Kryptonian design. Many had crystals embedded in the hardware and others with slots obviously intended for crystals. As he looked closer their design became more apparent - weapons. The shape and deadly grace were more visible as his eyes adjusted and he also noticed a few dark figures moving about. He was being watched, that much was obvious but they were being discreet - pretending his arrival was nothing out of the ordinary.
The room ended with another set of doors, thicker again and meant for a line of defence if Clark had to guess. Robby led him through and they entered a more brightly lit area, with clean tables and a kitchen area. They continued through a variety of sections, each with its own purpose and with only a few wary inhabitants eyeing off Clark suspiciously. Finally they came to a circular door that looked like it could hold off an entire army if need be, and for all Clark knew it may have to. After entering a code and a retinal scan Robby put his palm on a scanner and the door rolled back. He motioned Clark inside, again his eyes showing mischief and making Clark both suspicious and amused at the same time.
Inside was a control centre with requisite computers and wall sized monitors. Operators sat hunched at consoles and barely looked up as Clark entered. He scanned faces but saw none that he recognised, not surprising since most were barely older than Robby, and if Clark was right they weren’t yet born when he was last in Smallville. A tall figure walked forward, dressed in denims and a black turtle neck. He radiated authority like a battle field general. With dark hair and intense eyes he studied Clark from head to toe; he was older, probably in his late thirties and seemed both alert and weary at the same time. Finally he was satisfied and allowed a small smile to greet Clark, who returned the smile but tightly - being studied like some new recruit was not pleasant.
“They said it was possible but until now I never believed it,” the older man rasped, his voice damaged in some way. “But here you stand - Kal’El.”
“I prefer Clark.”
“Of course,” nodded the man, obviously knowing Clark’s human name as well. “I’m Bruce Wayne, in charge of this little unit we have.” He did not offer a hand so neither did Clark. The name seemed familiar but he couldn’t place it straight away. As he looked closer he could see a scar running across Bruce’s neck, probably the reason for his rough voice and another deep scar ran from temple to cheek, just on the neck line - almost as if someone had tried to scalp him. The older man was studying him again and a dark expression crossed his features. “So young,” muttered Bruce.
“Not as young as some,” snarked Clark, for some reason taking a dislike to Bruce; almost as if he was in competition with the man, even though he knew nothing about him. “This unit of yours, obviously child labour is not an issue?”
Bruce just laughed, as did a couple of the operators. “A lot’s changed since your day boy.” Obviously Bruce had taken a disliking to Clark as well. “We all do what we must to survive - and each and every one of these people are proven soldiers…I wonder if the same could be said of you.”
Choosing to ignore the jibe Clark instead queried the man’s knowledge of Clark’s situation. “So how do you know who I am, when I’m from and my Kryptonian name?”
“The whole free world knows who you are Kal’El,” answered Bruce curtly. “The alleged saviour of the human race, last survivor of a doomed alien world.” He moved in close, invading Clark’s space. “Powerful, noble and prophesied to come in our darkest hour to save us from ourselves - hah!”
What the hell was he saying? There had been a few prophecies mentioning epic battled that Clark assumed was all about him and some great nemesis. Had someone found the information and released it to the world? It seemed Bruce thought he was either unworthy to fill that prophesy or… the battle had come and gone and Clark was not here?
Bruce must have seen it in his eyes and spoke bitterly, “Oh yes Clark Kent - the time came and where were you? Travelling in time and when you do arrive it is far too late. The world is ending and not even you can stop it.”
“The sun,” whispered Clark.
“Yes, our sun - destroyed by madness and paranoia.”
“Who would do such a thing?” asked Clark but in his heart the answer thudded painfully.
“You know who,” said Bruce, seemingly able to read all of Clark’s thoughts.
“Lex,” breathed Clark. How could this have happened? Lex was on the brink of madness in his endeavours to protect the world but why would he destroy it? Something had happened, some event that had pushed him over the edge and Clark had to wonder - had he been here would it have made a difference?
CKCKCKCKCK
The pipes were truly impressive, pumping the heat from deep in the Earth to the chambers of this structure. Robby had taken him on a tour, probably more as a way to let both Bruce and Clark to cool down. They had almost come to blows as Bruce’s barbs cut deeper, almost making Clark seem like the anti-Christ in his rants. From the little Clark understood from Bruce it was Lex who had changed the sun with stolen technology from all the various Kryptonian devices he had stolen over the years. No-one knew why and Lex was some kind of warlord in this world, virtually untouchable behind an army that crushed any opposition.
This was one of many resistance units set up throughout the former United States, Bruce had been tight-lipped on that. The States no longer existed, just separate fiefdoms ruled by militias and some struggling cities trying to remain democratic. Lex ruled a large portion, including what used to be Smallville and Metropolis. Any more than that Bruce would not comment on, instead heaping more blame on Clark and saying what a waste of resources it had been to stand by watching the cave for the past six months. That slip had allowed Clark to know how long ago the sun had been changed, although the changes had been gradual and not immediately apparent. Only in the last month had it become too obvious to ignore as the sun turned red and the weather became arctic worldwide.
Whistling appreciatively Clark tapped a pipe, it was almost red hot. “Geo-thermal energy huh? Pretty smart.”
“Yeah, some guy called Richards came up with it - he died.” Robby said it matter-of-fact, no emotion and no explanation. He was dead so why dwell on it; that is the impression Clark got. How many had died to make the boy this way?
“The resistance are the only ones with the tech, we have lots of cool stuff like it and they say that’ll win the war for us.”
The tone in his voice implied that Robby knew the reality of the situation. It didn’t matter who won the war - everyone was going to die. Clark clapped the boy on the shoulder. “You know I came from a dying world - and every time I think I’m the only survivor some other Kryptonian pops up; sometimes ends aren’t as final as we believe.”
Robby smiled up at him and in that smile Clark saw someone very familiar. “What’s your father’s name Robby?”
The boy’s smile grew even bigger. “Dad said if you asked that then it really was you, and not some imposter. He also told me I could trust you with anything.” The accent had changed, becoming more upper-class and with better annunciation, the ‘knockabout lad’ had been an act, probably not just for Clark’s benefit.
He had also pointedly not answered Clark’s question - and was trying to say something else. “Something you need to tell me Robby?” The boy looked at the pipes and back at Clark, his mischief showing again - this time though it had a dangerous glint. Clark guessed the truth. “You didn’t bring me here to show me plumbing did you?”
Robby shook his head and crouched down, knocking out a panel that led into the bedrock. “Bruce is one of Dad’s closest allies, from the old days - but he told me to watch carefully and I did.” Rummaging around inside the tunnel Robby brought out two torches and a bag of heavy clothing. “I checked the communications log while you were talking with him - he sent a coded message before we arrived but sent it on a bandwidth we don’t use.”
“Wayne!” Clark snapped his fingers. “Wayne enterprises was a huge corporation - Bruce Wayne probably used to do business with Lex.”
“And my Dad,” said Robby. “Cept we thought he was against Lex, but the end of the worlds coming. Dad says that changes loyalties real fast.”
“Your father is an idealistic fool,” Bruce’s voice rasped through the tunnel and he stepped into view, or more accurately something stepped into view. His body was clad in form fitting dark grey armour, scratched and dented but probably still serviceable. Several attachments on the arms and legs hinted at high-tech weapons and Clark instinctively put himself in front of Robby. Bruce’s appearance was made more lethal with a helmet shaped like a demon, with slit eyes and a wide screeching mouthpiece. The ears opened up and folded back like some vampire from a movie and around the neck was a section missing, torn out at some stage.
“Back off,” ordered Clark, not wanting to start something in such a small space. An explosion would too easily hurt or kill Robby. Bruce laughed mirthlessly and raised an arm, the pod on its side sliding back to reveal a shiny nozzle. Time for Clark slowed down as the gun peppered out rounds, they streaked towards him and he easily used his body to deflect them. “Go!” he ordered Robby and the boy scuttled into the crawlspace, quickly disappearing from view.
“So it is true - bulletproof,” muttered Bruce. He raised the other arm and three silver discs shot out, whizzing through the air, Clark thought they were aimed at him but instead they impacted the pipes, instantly engulfing Clark in plumes of super-heated steam. Alarms started up and Clark blocked the breaches with his hands, the heat not even bothering him. He looked back at Bruce in time to see the man disappearing around a corner, a small sphere bouncing down towards Clark.
“Oh crap.”
The explosion tore through the tunnel, the fireball going horizontal as it hit the roof and had nowhere to go. Clark wedged himself in the escape tunnel, preventing the explosion from entering. There was a rumbling and then the roof of the outer tunnel collapsed, sending rock shards bouncing harmlessly off Clark’s side, his shirt now shredded from fire, steam and bullets.
The darkness only lasted a moment as Robby flicked on a torch and gave a toothy grin; he was enjoying this far too much. “Just like your father,” whispered Clark and followed Robby as he crawled away. He should have known that the son of Oliver Queen would attract trouble and then put himself right into the middle of it. Maybe the world hadn’t changed that much after all.
TBC