Scissors / ????
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: This fic is comprised of shorts based off of prompt words a friend is giving me.
AN2: I've now split off the first two chapters as it makes more sense thematically.
“Huh, that’s odd.”
Clark turned around slightly to look at his mother, “What is it ma?”
“I think these scissors are getting dull,” she commented, staring at the scissors, “I'm having trouble cutting your hair.”
Clark felt a sinking feeling in his gut; the word from a few days ago resonating in his mind.Demon…
“Huh?” he asked, pretending to be confused.
“They just keep slipping. Let me try another pair,” his mother put the scissors down on the nearby table. She reached for a slightly larger pair, “These should do the trick.”I hope so.
“Odd,” she frowned, “These scissors aren’t working either. They can’t be dull too.”
Fighting his up-welling emotions, Clark desperately tried to keep his tears in check. He couldn’t let his mother see him scared; she’d been through enough already. She didn’t need to find out about the vampire and she definitely didn’t need to know that her adoptive son was in reality a demon.
He wasn’t getting it together fast enough and if he didn’t calm himself soon, she’d definitely notice. The gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder felt impossibly heavy. Its weight filled him with dread. She was going to see.
“Honey, you ok?”
His eyes were starting to well, in a matter of moments the damn would burst and his treacherous tears would flow.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
He felt his mother’s warm hand cup the side of his face. Luckily, his cheek was still dry. Unfortunately, there was little he could do when she lifted his head to look at her.
And in that moment, he knew his mother understood. How he didn’t belong;how it was tearing him up inside. As she gently pulled him into a hug, Clark sobbed uncontrollably, his body heaving with the effort. His cries started loud, as screams of anguish, but as his mother continued to rock him to and fro, part of him calmed and the screaming stopped. At least the sound did.
It took several minutes in his mother’s arms before Clark could close his mouth. His jaw had been frozen in a silent scream for so long that it twinged painfully as he swallowed. His mother would want an explanation. His voice failed him the first time he tried to talk. Thankfully, it only wobbled on his second try.
“I’ve just been having a hard time adjusting,” he rasped, hoping the half-truth would suffice.
“Clark Kent,” apparently it would not. His mother knew he was lying, “You were taught better than to lie to our—my face.” The awkward correction flew right over his head. Clark was too busy trying to avoid the underlying issue.
“Don’t worry about it ma…” he tried to pass it off as nothing despite knowing his mother would see through it.
Kent! Look at me!” his mother rarely lost her temper, but as she held him away from her, Clark knew he was in for it. The middle name had been brought out. He looked at his mother and saw everything she was feeling. Her eyes showed it all.
There was frustration, but surprisingly no anger. There was confusion, an understandable reaction. And then there was love, something he wasn’t sure he deserved. He looked away.
“Honey, I didn’t mean to get angry, but I need to know what’s wrong.”
Still refusing to meet her eyes, Clark decided the jig was up, “I’m a demon.”
“I’m sorry what?”
Of course she misheard, no one expected their adopted ‘special’ child to be a demon.
“You heard me ma. I’m a demon,” Clark repeated, his voice completely bland.
“You’re just special, is all,” his mother retorted, almost snorting in disbelief, “What nonsense is this? A demon?”
Clark clenched his fist in frustration. It was not funny!
“Ma, I am a demon. Someone told me so and it makes perfect sense.”
His mother’s startled silence allowed him to continue, voicing all his self doubt.
“It explains everything. The strength, the speed, the hearing, sight, and it makes perfect sense that I’d have the ability to set fires with my eyes. I am the perfect embodiment of evil—“
Martha interrupted him firmly, “You’re not a demon.”
“You’re being blinded by your love for me,” Clark rallied, caught up in his self-flagellation, “I know you and Pa found me one day. How were you to know you were taking in a demon?”
His mother sighed, “Clark, what’s got this demon idea stuck in your noggin’?”
That answer brought his mother up short, “I’m sorry dear, but could you repeat that.”
“A vampire,” Clark said it slower, but realized how outlandish it sounded, he continued to explain, “I met a vampire the other night and she called me a demon.”
His mother’s face pulled into a frown, “I’ve heard rumours… but that’s…” she suddenly gave him a sardonic smile, “But considering my son is from space, I shouldn’t be that surprised, now should I?”
For once it was Clark’s turn to be shocked into silence. The dancing of his mother’s eyes did little to help kickstart his brain. It took several minutes before he finally realized he still possessed the ability of speech.
“Your father and I were going to tell you when you were older. But I think it’s important you find out why we always knew you were going to be special…”
Dealing with everything was more than overwhelming at times and Clark needed a retreat: his 'Fortress of Solitude' as aptly put by his ma. Unfortunately since relocating to Sunnydale, it had been an issue finding a new place to hide away when the sounds became too much. Soon he'd be meeting the rest of his family and by extension, his cousin through adoption. It was nerve wracking. And when added to what he’d recently discovered of his origins, it was all proving to be too much.
Thankfully a few days previous, Clark had found the school library. The library was run by a polite and quiet gentlemen: Mr. Giles. He was helpful when necessary and more than willing to allow Clark the privacy of the library once he discovered Clark's appreciation for great literature.
The second time Clark found a pile of books beside him, he wasn't surprised. The first time he'd been engrossed in a classic fairytale, not of the Disney variety. He was pleasantly surprised to find an anthology of classical fairytales and an assortment of related books on the table in front of him when he finally looked up. Mr. Giles had given him a knowing smile before returning to his cataloguing.
Though science fiction was obviously not in Mr. Gile's realm of expertise, Clark was happy to note the pile of books left for him this time were of some repute and he had only read a few of them. Looking forward to reading the rest of the afternoon, his dreams were shattered by the abrupt arrival of one of his classmates.
"Giles!" a blonde from his morning math class stormed into the library, instantly destroying Clark's sense of peace.
Mr. Giles coughed uncomfortably, "Can I help you miss Summers?"
"Feeling the extra tweedy today, Giles?" the blonde replied, before jumping onto a nearby counter. She swung her legs idly, "You haven't called me 'miss' in ages."
To Clark's amusement, the librarian pinched his nose in an obviously irritated manner.
"Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Buffy?" Clark didn't miss the librarian's slight head tilt towards him. That was odd, his tone seemed like he was trying to convey something to Buffy.
Obviously oblivious, the blonde continued, "I was on patrol yesterday. And I found something very hinky-"
"Perhaps, this is something we should discuss in private?" Mr. Giles interrupted, glaring pointedly at her.
"Uh, wha?" Buffy asked confused. Then she noticed Clark, "Oh, yeah. Giles-I mean Mr. Giles, sir. Could I speak to you privately?" Her address of Mr. Giles soundly completely unnatural.
The two scurried into the library's cramped office leaving Clark alone at one of the corner tables. Normally, he wouldn't have pried, but from what Clark understood, it wasn't normal behaviour for a student and faculty member to be alone behind locked doors.
"- so I found something super hinky yesterday."
Clark could almost see the librarian's exasperated face, "So you've already said."
"Well... I found a foot print."
There was dead silence. And then a likely deadpanned, "Really. A footprint."
"Yup," the popped 'p' brought a small smile to Clark's face. Buffy was obviously trying to get a rise out of Mr. Giles.
Focusing his eyes, Clark saw into the office in time to see Giles rubbing his nose bridge. Again.
"And pray, what is the significance of this footprint?"
"Well, there was more than one footprint. There were a whole bunch, really."
Clark almost laughed out loud. "You don't say."
"Yeah, so I decided to follow them."
When Giles sat straighter with interest, Clark interpreted it as a sign that Buffy was finally going to get to the crux of her visit.
"And guess what I found?"
The librarian let out a sigh. "What?"
"Here, let me show you." Her statement was accompanied by the ruffling of her bag.
A moment later, the librarian exclaimed in wonder, "Oh good lord! But how?..."
"They got bitey, and we got in a bit of a fight over it. Then Mr. Sharpy went with the slicing and dicing."
Buffy's flippant attitude was doing little to help Clark understand the situation.
He had to refocus his vision to see into Buffy's bag for an explanation. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.
Mr. Giles' voie was filled with wonder, "So those are really?..."
"Yup," another popped 'p'.
"They're dinosaur feet."
"Oh, dear.”Dinosaur Feet
AN: If the I feel the word spoils anything I will reveal it after
the drabble. Please let me know what you think!
Edited for flow Sept 18, 2014.