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Buffy Post Season Seven
Smallville Post Season Five, Episode VengeancePrologue
“Thou shall not worship any god but me,” 1st Commandment
Clark Kent sat in the old red pick up his family had owned since before his arrival on earth, he was unsettled, almost melancholy, as he drove through the dark and deserted streets of Metropolis. Ever since his father had died he couldn’t seem to draw himself back into the world, the rage that had burned inside of him was little more then a simmer and without the companionship of his fury he simply couldn’t find the passion for life that he had once known. It was like an abyss, a void, a black hole that consumed his emotions, his ideals, everything that had once made him Clark, now he was just a shell, a remnant.
His mother told him the emptiness wasn’t a feeling unique to him, Lana told him the same thing, even Lex had said he felt something similar when the anger at his mothers death had finally subsided. But none of that mattered; none of them were super powered aliens that could lay waste to a city in the time it took to finish a good meal. Without a connection to the world Clark knew he could become dangerous, if he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the people in his life again, he would never be able to care about the lives of the billions of strangers surrounding him.
The ebb and flow of city life pulsed around him, even at three in the morning he could hear the denizens of Metropolis, partying, sleeping, breathing. But they were still a blur to him, a meaningless, nothing, he wished he could be frustrated about that, wished he could hate the fact that the world forced itself upon him whether he wanted to be a part of it or not. He even desperately wished that he could be angry again, that the rage that had consumed him after his fathers death could return, at least then he would be feeling something.
Melancholy firmly settling around him his attention drifted from the darkened roads as he glanced out across the park beside him, his eyes ferreting out every detail as if it were the middle of the day, squirrels, rodents, all foraging through the trees. He could both see and hear the homeless men that had sought sanctuary in the mildly safe park. Clark’s eyes slowly focused on a woman in the park, he watched as she descended into euphoria, slumping back against a wall with the needle still sticking out of her arm. He envied her that feeling.
Finally he looked back out onto the road and it was as if time slowed, even from his perspective, he watched a young woman appear on the road. As if she had coalesced from a fading cascade of lights, his baby blue eyes gazed into her hazel ones and she reminded him oddly of deer caught in the headlights. She never moved, and even with all of his superhuman agility he wasn’t able to veer the pickup more then a fraction to the right before it struck her at forty miles an hour. Clark got his wish as the pickup slammed into her frail and very naked body; he finally felt something. Fear, anxiety. Terror that tore through him as his mind slammed into over drive, he’d killed her…nobody could survive being hit head on at forty miles an hour, no one but him that was…
…But that was when the real shock hit, at forty miles an hour, with everything moving in relative slow motion for Clark, he watched as the pick up rippled as it struck the woman. The metal literally rippled as it wrenched and tore, screaming with its metallic voice as the woman continued to gaze at Clark in a bewildered fashion. She never moved, but the pick up was torn nearly in two as it continued to plow on. She still hadn’t moved an inch until Clark himself snapped out of his shock enough to get out of the old truck. He found the indentation of the metal had sealed the door to the extent that he had to push it off with enough force to send it careening into the park.
In an instant Clark sped around to the front of the truck as the woman slowly turned to face him, he watched jagged metal tear across her skin without leaving a mark as she looked at him. Never before had he seen anyone that could take that kind of damage, not even the meteor freaks had ever been as invulnerable to harm as Clark himself. There was an almost ethereal glow surrounding her as she examined him, he couldn’t help but blush as he was powerfully, visually, reminded of her lack of clothing.
“Are-are you alright?” Perhaps the most stupid thing he had ever asked, but she was leaving him feeling like a, well like a farm boy.
She gave a small, barely perceptible nod, as if she didn’t want to break their eye contact, and then she collapsed. Her legs sliding out from beneath her as she twisted towards the ground, though she never struck it. Clark surged forward to reach her, her body folding into his arms like a child as he knelt, cradling her.
Carefully, almost hypnotically he reached out to brush a tendril of hair from her face, whether it was the fact he had just hit her with his truck, or the fact that it hadn’t seemed to have hurt her in the slightest, she mesmerized him. Clark felt a stirring deep within him, a connection between the two of them, not lust but a form of captivation as he gazed down upon her. She had thoroughly shattered his reverie over his father’s death, emotions that he had bottled up came flooding back. Concern and fear for his fellow man being the dominant feeling, his apathy fast becoming fleeting.
Holding her as gently as a newborn Clark stood with her in his arms and took a look at the remains of the old Kent truck, it had survived two meteor storms and dozens of meteor freaks, as well as the hazards of a teenage driver. But it appeared to have finally met its match in the woman he now held.
Sirens filled the cool early morning air and the distant flashes of red and blue forced Clark to focus on the situation at hand, his father had raised him to be responsible, and right then the responsible thing to do would have been to take the woman to the hospital. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but she was unconscious. On the other hand, she had totaled the pickup truck without a single scratch; he knew what it was like to have to hide who and what he was. He doubted the women would want the world to know she was invulnerable to speeding trucks, not to mention that if the truck hadn’t physically hurt her he was somewhat doubtful of what the police or a hospital could do for her. With those thoughts firmly in mind Clark glanced towards the ambulance and police car turning the corner before he vanished.
For all intensive purposes it would have appeared to an observer that he disappeared, one moment standing in front of his totaled truck, and the next moment gone.Chapter One - Introductions
Clark gently stroked the stranger’s hair, pushing it aside as she slept. After the events in Metropolis he’d brought her back to the Kent farm and tucked her into his bed to sleep, she was currently curled around his pillow occasionally shifting or grimacing, as if she were reliving a particularly bad dream.
Despite being twenty years old in human terms and facing life and death decisions every week Clark had been hoping his mother, Martha Kent, would have been home when he got there. With the burden of his secret he’d relied on the judgment and advice of his parents his entire life, and now that his dad was gone he was relying on his mother alone. He’d been hoping that she could have confirmed bringing the woman home as the right decision, or maybe have told him what the right thing to do would have been…but she hadn’t been, and a good fifteen hours later at five p.m. she still wasn’t home and the woman still hadn’t woken up.
He was concerned about the stranger more then his mother. Once upon a time he would have been turning Smallville upside down if either his mum or dad weren’t home when he got there, but now? His mother was a State Senator for Kansas, add in Lois Lane as her personal assistant and it was becoming increasingly rare for Clark to see his mum for any period of time.
Sighing heavily he lent back and was just about to call Chloe, the only other person who knew who and what he really was when the woman woke, or at least he assumed she woke. In a blur of motion she twisted into a seated position and almost on reflex one of her feet lashed out as she came to a stop. Clark felt that dainty foot strike his chest with an audible meaty thunk that shot pain through his ribs, as he became air borne. The force of her kick sent him clean through the wall and plummeting into the Kent driveway, just in time to see Chloe’s little buggy of a car pulling up.
Dust flooded the drive as Chloe screeched to a stop mere inches from Clarks face.
“Clark! Clark! Are you ok?” The petite blonde asked frantically as she rushed to his side
“I’m fine,” he murmured as he got to his feet
“What happened Clark?” she asked, gazing up at the side of his house where he’d taken off for his unexpected flight from.
“I decided to take up flying,” he muttered sarcastically, he would have said more but she cut him off with her own retort.
“Most people use a plane,” Again she cut him off before he could say anything else, “And whose this?” she asked, shrugging towards the auburn haired women standing not five feet from them. Admittedly he’d been a little distracted, but he hadn’t seen or heard her move, added to her physical strength and apparent invulnerable he was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t a Kryptonian herself…It was as much a secret desire as it was a fear that she could be from Krypton, so far his track record with other Kryptonian’s wasn’t too good. One was his biological father who had put him through a living hell, another two slaughtered a number of police and tried to send Clark to some kind of prison dimension, and then there was the Kryptonian Android that had duped him and then tried to kill him and his mother.
“Who the hell are you? And what the fuck did you do with my clothes?” She demanded
Chloe glanced towards Clark as if to ask, her clothes? Right at that moment all she was wearing was one of Clark's plaid shirts, which draped down to the middle of her thighs.
Kent found himself blushing a little as he looked at her, “You don’t remember?”
“Of course I don’t remember, or I wouldn’t be asking would I?” she said in a harsh tone, though he couldn’t really fault her for it, especially if she didn’t remember what had happened.
Chloe stepped forward with her hands out, as if to say she was peaceful, or harmless. “Hi,” she said in an almost perky blonde way. “I’m Chloe Sullivan, and this,” gesturing towards Clark “is Clark Kent,” the woman seemed to almost recoil at the mention of their names “…as to your clothes, well I don’t know.”
“You weren’t wearing any when I found you,” Clark volunteered.
“Found me?” She asked
“Yeah, you ah, sort of appeared on the road in Metropolis last night –“ he began
“-and you hit me,” she finished, biting her lip “with, with a truck, a red pick up truck. Right?” she asked, a tinge of hopefulness that she might have just remembered something
“Yes. I hit you with my red pickup truck,” he confirmed.
Now she looked confused, and more then a little angry “Then what the hell am I doing here? On-” glancing around “a farm and not in a hospital, and, and, wait, shouldn’t I be dead? I might be remembering wrong but I think you hit me pretty hard and pretty fast, I mean you hit me at like thirty miles an hour,” she babbled
“More like forty,” Clark responded
“Forty miles an hour,” she repeated with a shocked expression “…And I’m not dead…”
“More then that,” Chloe added excitedly, she was practically aquiver with at the news “Your not even hurt, and Clarks truck is totaled, the engine, the entire front of the car is torn apart,” turning towards Clark “like you wrapped it around a massive pole, only you did it in the middle of the street.” Answering Clark before he could ask her anything Chloe continued, “that’s why I’m here Clark. My contact in the 8th precinct told me about a red pickup truck one of the patrol cars found last night, he sent me some pictures and I couldn’t help but notice how familiar it looked, and when I ran the plates and found out it was yours I thought I’d come out and see you.”
She was hurriedly opening a manila envelope Clark hadn’t noticed she was carrying before and pulled out a couple shots of his now deceased truck to show to him, but before he could take them the woman moved in a blur of speed to take them first.
As she looked down at the pictures she was trembling and shaking her head, “this, this is impossible,” she whispered “no one could have survived that, not without a scratch to show for it.”
Clark looked at her with an almost pitying expression, if she was just coming to terms with her abilities this would have been a hard shove into the reality of her situation. Taking the pictures from her and taking her hand in his he said, “I could have survived it, and you did survive it.”
“Believe me when I say I know what’s like to suddenly realize how powerful you are, what your special abilities really mean. I was hit by a car going sixty miles an hour a few years back.”
She was still shaking her head “N-no,” she stammered, “You don’t understand, I’ve never done anything like that before,” and now she looked terrified “or at least I don’t think I have, I-I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything!”
Her terror was turning to denial and accusation as she looked at Clark. “You’re lying, you have to be, just because I can’t remember anything doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Its physically impossible for someone to survive that,” she said, violently gesturing towards the pictures Chloe was holding again.
“Take it easy,” Clark said softly, about to mention that she had just kicked him through a wall, but she was already moving towards Chloe, grabbing her and shaking her, hard. Reacting on instant Clark reached out to stop her, she could have shaken him all she wanted, but Chloe was only human.
Grabbing her shoulder to try and stop her Clark was unpleasantly surprised to find that she was to him as he was to a normal human, with an almost casual shrug she through him a clear two hundred yards across the farm. Recovering almost instantaneously he moved into super speed to stop her from hurting Chloe, but by the time he reached her she had already stopped. She just looked at him, shocked at what she had so casually done.
“Its-Its not possible…” she whispered as she sunk to her knees in the dirt.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but you have to be careful, you can throw me around all you like. But Chloe’s only human, you could have seriously hurt her without meaning to,” he said as he knelt beside her
“Only human,” she whispered
Looking up towards Chloe her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she tried to apologize but found the words refused to form, leaving her gaping like a fool.
“No harm done,” Chloe said quickly, for a reporter she was a terrible liar, “tell you what, I’m sure Mrs. Kent has some clothes she wouldn’t mind you borrowing,” looking towards Clark as he nodded, “I’ll just go inside and have a look for something for you to wear.” She winced as she moved her arms and Clark gave her a quick once over with his x-ray vision, she already had some very nasty bruises forming along her arms, but was otherwise fine.
As Chloe disappeared into the house the woman looked back up at Clark, once again repeating “Only human…if-if she’s only human then what are you? What am I?” she asked
Normally Clark would have preferred to have just said something along the lines of they were different, special, if it came to it he would even admit to being affected by the meteors…but he could sense how fragile she was. Lies or half-truths would drive her over the edge, so very reluctantly he said, “I’m not human, I’m from the planet Krypton”.
She just looked at him blankly “Krypton…am I from Krypton?”
“Truthfully? I don’t know, I’m sorry to say it, but I really don’t know…” he trailed off
Sensing there was more to what he said, she questioned further “But?”
Sighing he replied, “But I don’t think so, I don’t think your from Krypton…I think your just special. I mean I’ve meant other humans who have been born with or who have developed amazing gifts…”
“But no one quite like me?”
“No. No one quite like you,” A gleam formed in her eyes at that, as if she was testing an idea before saying it aloud
“I’m… unique,” She sounded pleased with the idea that she was one of a kind; she even began to smile, and somehow that unnerved Clark. He’d seen firsthand what happened when people began to think they were unique, or special, when they could do things other people couldn’t. He’d seen the results far too often.
At least he was convinced he had done the right thing by bringing her to his home, had she woken in a hospital and reacted as violently to the news of her survival she would probably have killed one or more people before she got a hold of herself.
One Hour Later
Chloe had found better then some of Martha Kent’s old clothes; she’d found some clothes Lois had left at the house. Now the woman was twirling in front of a full body mirror, satisfied in the blood red tank top that exposed part of her stomach and the acid wash jeans she wore. In her own words she said they were slightly immature, or juvenile for her, but that they would do in a pinch.
Clark would have loved to of seen Lois’s reaction when someone called her clothes juvenile. She was also wearing one of Lois’s denim jackets over the ensemble; Clark didn’t even know Lois had owned a denim jacket in the first place.
“Too bad none of the shoes fit,” Chloe commented
“I guess,” the woman replied while wiggling her toes for them to see, “I’d love to know what happened to my clothes last night,” she said as she twirled around again, her auburn hair falling in ringlets around her face and throat.
A discreet cough from the front door caused three sets of eyes to swivel towards Lois Lane herself and Senator Martha Kent. “An interesting question,” Lois said loudly and with her usual smirk attached. Mrs Kent took one look at Clark, Chloe and the strange woman before turning to her assistant.
“I think that’s going to be all for today Lois,” she said in her sweet, motherly voice
“Are you sure? We still have to go over the deposition for your meeting with Waste Management tomorrow.”
Mrs Kent smiled sweetly as she spoke, “I’m sure, we can take a working breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“If you’re sure Senator,” she smiled at the title, Clark supposed she had a right to, it was in large part due to her campaigning strategies and organization that Jonathan Kent had won the seat to begin with. “Seya later cuz, Smallville.” She just nodded towards the other woman, with a suspicious look at what she was wearing, before walking out.
“Hey mom,” Clark ventured
“Hello Clark,” She nodded towards Chloe, “Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?”
“Uh, that’s kind of hard to do mum, she doesn’t actually remember who she is,” Mrs Kent just nodded at that, amnesia seemed to be something that ran rampant in Clarks life, it wasn’t terribly surprising that it would also run rampant in his friend’s lives.
Clark proceeded to explain what had happened to the truck, how he had met the woman and what had happened since. As usual she took it all on board quite calmly and began to address her sons concerns, that he had done the right thing by bringing her home. Though she was uncomfortable with another person learning the truth of her son’s origins.
“I suppose the first thing we should do is file a report with the Metropolis Police Department, maybe put up some posters or flyers in Metropolis to see if anyone recognizes you.” Turning towards Chloe, Martha smoothed the skirts of her business suit before asking “Would you mind using your daily planet sources to see if you can find out where this young woman comes from?”
“No problem Mrs Kent.”
“What about me?” The woman asked, “I don’t exactly have anywhere to stay while we try to sort out who I am and I’m ah, a little worried about going anywhere until I can get these…abilities…under wraps.”
Mrs Kent just smiled at her in a motherly fashion as if she had already assumed that the young woman would be staying with them for the time being. “Who better then Clark to help you?” she asked.
The conversation was starting to breakdown into ideas of dinner; after all there wasn’t much else they could do until the next morning when the strange women asked Mrs Kent for a favor. She stood up to pace across the lounge room when she began to babble. “People can’t really keep referring to me as her or she or woman and I was just wondering Mrs Kent, since your like a mom and everything if you could maybe give me a name, just, just until we find out who I am you know?”
Martha smiled at her, “Please, call me Martha” she said while she thought, “I know it’s somewhat common but I’ve always liked the name Sarah.”
“Sarah,” she said “Saaarrraaah,” she tested, elongating the world, as if she were rolling it around her mouth. “Sarah,” she said again.
“I think I’d like to be Sarah for a while,” she smiled and virtually hopped over to Clark before proffering a hand, “Hey Clark. I’m Sarah, pleased to meet you!”
Clark smiled back as he took her hand and felt her enthusiastically pump his hand up and down in glee. “I’d have offered to shake your hands as well Mrs Kent, Chloe…except, well I’d probably have crushed them…” she trailed off in thought.
Clark just nodded in agreement at her comment, he was glad that her fear and panic from earlier had been heartily replaced with pleasure and glee. What he didn’t know was that Mrs Kent was thinking something similar, that she was glad Clark was no longer depressed and brooding over the death of his father, he was on the road to recovery. And for Clark, helping someone else was the best way for him to recover; it would remind him of who he was and who his father was.
A/N: Enjoy? Worth continuing?