superman_lives_on
10-12-2006, 07:43 PM
RECKONING WITH DESTINY
By Superman Lives On
CHAPTER ONE
Reckoning
Clark Kent sat on the edge of the long couch in his loft, staring towards the window but not at it—his attention was elsewhere. Indeed, it was practically a world away. He noticed virtually nothing—not the gleaming white snow on the ground and trees outside, not the song playing on his radio, not even the small black object his hands were nervously playing with. He was truly lost in his thoughts.
Still, if he had noticed anything, it would most likely have been the object in his hands…after all, it would be a crucial part of what he was going to do today. In fact, it would be the start of the most crucial part…and thinking about that, as he was now, was more than enough to make him shiver from stem to stern with nervousness.
He had thought long and hard before making this decision. Though a very deep part of him had wanted desperately to do this, his old fears just wouldn’t let up that easily. But, in the end, he knew that he couldn’t just give up—not when he had a choice, a chance to make things right. He only hoped that the end result would be what he hoped for—what he had dreamed of for what seemed like forever.
He didn’t need to turn on his super-hearing to hear the footsteps on wood behind. He knew without turning around whom it was—he could feel it. Besides, who else would be coming here right now? He sighed softly, swallowing nervously. There was no turning back now—not that he wanted to turn back, really.
“I brought gloves and a scarf like you said.” The voice was the most beautiful one he had ever heard—the soft, angelic voice of the woman whom he loved with all his heart and soul, the woman who made him feel…complete.
Pocketing the small black object, he rose to his feet, steeling himself, summoning up his courage, and turned around. There she stood—Lana Lang, dressed in warm clothing, including the gloves and scarf she had spoken of. Her long, very dark brown hair—even darker than his own brown locks, and far neater—framed her exotic, lovely face that he knew so well—that he had always admired.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to come,” he admitted as he walked in front of her, clad in one of his signature styles—a cherry-red shirt covered by a deep blue jacket and tucked into a pair of blue jeans.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t think a mystery date’s exactly what our relationship needs right now,” Lana said with a rather wry tone.
“That’s actually why I called,” he said seriously, putting his hands close to her shoulders, trying to impart his sincerity.
He succeeded; Lana’s humor faded, turning to concern. “Are you okay?” she asked, putting a hand on his chest. What she felt took her completely by surprise. “Oh my God,” she breathed, “your heart’s racing.”
Funny, thought Clark—it actually felt like a jackhammer pounding against his chest. “That’s…because I’m terrified,” he confessed.
Lana was more than a little confused. “What’s going on?” she asked, her concern still evident.
Okay, this is it, Clark thought. There’s definitely no turning back now. He took a deep breath, then started forth on the path that he knew would change his life forever. “Lana, the way you’ve been…” He paused, trying to get his heart to settle—to no avail. He tried again: “I can tell by the way you look at me that I’m losing you.”
Lana looked down. “Clark—”
“No, it’s not your fault,” he interrupted, not wanting her to blame himself. She looked back into his eyes, coffee-like hazel meeting deep sea-green. He took another breath, then admitted, “I haven’t been completely honest with you—even after I promised no more secrets or lies. But that’s going to change, right here, right now.” He spoke firmly, even boldly, though his heart now felt like a terrified animal slamming itself again and again against the wall of its prison, trying to break free. Be a man, he told himself—she deserved to know the full truth, especially after he had denied it to her for so long out of fear.
Lana’s eyes implored him to go on, ever so gently—and he did. “There’s something I should have shown you a long time ago.”
* * * * *
Not long after, Clark was leading Lana through the Kawatche caves. They had driven there through a winter wonderland, the snow having transformed Smallville into something that would have fit perfectly on a Christmas postcard. Though Lana had thought they’d seen a wonderland, Clark knew she hadn’t seen anything yet—but soon, she would.
He led her into the once-hidden chamber. Inside lay the octagonal altar of white stone, the circle in its center filled with symbols—pieces of a long-dead language never known to mankind. Lana was suitably impressed. “I don’t remember this place ever being here,” she remarked as she stood by the altar, looking down at it. “How’d you find it?”
“It was left here for me,” Clark said, standing a short distance away.
She turned to face him, clearly startled. “For you?”
He walked over to stand next to her, giving a small, nervous laugh. “I’ve rehearsed this like a thousand times,” he admitted. More like a million, part of him thought. He reached into his pocket; when his hand emerged, it was holding a silvery octagonal disc—the key from his long-destroyed space vessel. Lana looked at it, keenly interested, but looked back at him as he said, “Lana, what I’m about to show you…well, once you’ve stepped through this door, there’s no going back.” He looked at her earnestly. “And…I’m afraid it may change the way you feel about me.”
Lana shook her head softly. “Nothing could ever do that, Clark. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
Oh, Lord, how he hoped she was right. After a long moment, he reached down, letting the key slide into its slot in the altar. As it landed, it lit up, a metallic hum emanating from it as golden light began to pour out. Lana looked around, eyes wide, as the light surrounded them, the hum slowly becoming a buzz.
“It’s okay,” Clark said reassuringly. As the buzz became louder, wind beginning to blow through the chamber as the mechanisms whirred to life, he held out his hand, raising his voice: “Do you trust me?”
Lana looked at him, eyes still wide—then, after only a moment, she took his hand in hers. He stepped close, putting his arm around her firmly—
—and then, with a strange crackle, the golden light surrounding them gave way to a rushing tunnel of blue energy. They shot through—or rather, it shot around and past them as they stood still. Lana looked around in amazement and a measure of fear—fear of the unknown—as the energy rushed along—
And then, just as suddenly, it stopped; the tunnel vanished, leaving them…somewhere else entirely. Lana stared, then slowly stepped away from Clark, her breathing hard as she took in their surroundings. “Oh my God,” she gasped—hardly an adequate expression of her wonder, though she was too overwhelmed to think of that.
This place was most certainly not the Kawatche cavern—nowhere near it. It seemed like a glistening palace of ice and crystal, many pillars of such slanting away almost at right angles. They were standing on a platform of ice, surrounded by the pillars. Even with her warm clothing on, she could feel the cold…and furthermore, she could see a few flakes of snow silently falling.
She turned back to Clark, seeing the intense look in his eyes. After what seemed an eternity, she mustered up her voice. “Where are we?” she asked.
A small smile tugged at Clark’s lips as he remembered the old name of his loft. “This is the real Fortress of Solitude—somewhere in the Arctic,” he said frankly. “I’m not sure of the exact location.”
She took this in as calmly as she could, though it was a bit of an effort. The Arctic? How on Earth had they gotten from the caves to the Arctic? What was that altar in reality—how had it gotten them here? And…what had Clark meant when he said it was left for him?
He sensed her bewilderment, knew that it was time for explanations…and so he began. “When you asked me if I believed in life on other planets…you had no idea how ironic that question was.”
Lana was puzzled; Clark continued, trying to ignore his pounding heart. “My parents didn’t adopt me,” he said. “They found me in a cornfield after the first meteor shower…” He paused, then surged on, past the point of no return: “Next to the spaceship that came in it.”
With those words spoken, something clicked in Lana’s mind. A long-elusive piece of the puzzle she had begun to uncover—with the help of someone she would have rather not turned to—fell into place. Stunned as she was, she managed a single word: “…Kal-El?”
He nodded, not really surprised she had heard that name, given how those two alien thugs had been so adamant on finding him. “I’m from a planet called Krypton.”
Slowly, tentatively, Lana stepped closer to him. She raised a hand to touch his cheek…his soft, warm cheek, his strong-yet-delicate, ever-so-handsome features…
“And you can do…what they could do?” she asked. “You have the same…powers?”
Instead of answering—he thought actions would speak louder than words—he reached forward, carefully lifting her into his arms. He looked up, a sudden determination surging forth, then crouched down—
—and sprang smoothly into the air, jumping far higher than any mortal man could. He looked at Lana as they headed upwards, seeing her expression of wonder as she looked back at him before turning to see the pillars of crystal and columns of ice hurtling down and past them—
Soon, they landed on top of one such column. Clark gently set Lana down, letting her look around—see how high above the floor of the Fortress they were. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done that, is it?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze away.
“No, it’s not,” Clark admitted. “I also did this when I had to stop Gabriel’s missile.”
At that comment, Lana spun towards him, amazed. “You stopped that thing?” she asked.
He nodded, no words needed.
She digested this—then exclaimed as a thought struck her: “How many times have you been there when I didn’t know it, saving me?”
“More times than I can count,” he confessed, chuckling slightly. “But it doesn’t matter, Lana. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Lana would have had to have been deaf not to hear the sincerity in his voice—and she would have been blind to miss the tender look in his eyes. All those times…it had been him all along…looking out for her. How could she not have seen it sooner? “And no one knew?” she asked.
“Well, besides my parents, no one knew for years,” he admitted. “But people have found out without my wanting them to—even Pete and Chloe.”
Lana was taken aback, but forced down the mild sense of…something that welled up at that admission. Clark plowed on: “You were the only one I ever wanted to tell my secret. There were so many days…so many times…” He sighed sadly. “But every time, something held me back…no matter how badly I wanted to tell you everything.”
Lana felt a little saddened herself—she could barely imagine the pain he had felt. “What makes today any different?” she asked softly.
Clark’s nervousness, which had been at a reasonable level throughout their conversation, was intensifying again, his heart slamming into his chest repeatedly. But he wasn’t going to give in—not now, not this time. “I’m tired of giving in to fear,” he said. “And I’m tired of this coming between us. I want you to know who I really am.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black object he had been playing with nervously in the loft. It was a simple lump of coal. Lana looked at it, puzzled—then Clark closed his hand around it…and began to squeeze. Light shone through his fingers as intense heat surged forth from the pressure; Lana stared intently.
Soon, Clark opened his fingers again, carefully blowing the dust off the rough, uncut diamond stone lying in his huge palm. He stared at it, his green eyes suddenly flaring a fiery orange; twin beams of heat spewed forth, cutting into the gemstone. Lana started, but held her ground.
In seconds, the stone had been cut into a clear, sparkling diamond, still warm from the heat. Clark reached into his pocket once more, pulling out a simple golden ring and setting the sharp end of the diamond into it; he soldered it into place with another double beam of heat vision.
Lana stared at him as he went down on one knee before her, holding up the ring. She felt overwhelmed by what she had seen—and by what she now saw. She realized all too well what this meant.
Her breathing turned hard again as Clark asked the question he had long dreamed of asking her: “Will you marry me?”
* * * * *
Of course, he didn’t expect her to answer right then—so, before she could, he handed the ring to her, telling her to take some time and think about it. He knew that she wouldn’t have been able to answer right away—no sane woman would have been able to after all that he had revealed in such a short time.
His parents and Chloe had all been taken aback, to say the least, when he had told them what he had done—actually, Chloe was flabbergasted, stumbling over her words for a good minute. Clark still chuckled inwardly at the image whenever he thought of it—it would have been right at home in one of those MasterCard commercials. Chloe’s reaction that I took the Big Step with Lana: priceless.
As for Lana herself…well, it turned out that she had had a somewhat awkward little talk with Lois—who, quite frankly, was the last person Clark had expected to come to his support, aside from Lex. But it had clearly been enough—for when she had come over to the farm before the election party at the Talon, she had given her answer… “You look like the same handsome guy I’ve always known… Yes, Clark, I’ll marry you.”
As he had slid the ring onto her finger, he could have sworn he heard bells ringing; even now, the thought brought a smile to his face—a smile as wide as the one he had worn in that moment.
The familiar ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He was currently in the Talon, shaking hands with his dad’s supporters—for victory was theirs. Jonathan Kent had beaten Lex Luthor in the race for State Senator.
He moved away from the group, answering the phone. “Lana? Where'd you go?” he asked.
Some distance away, Lana’s SUV was speeding down a wet road. A scared Lana clutched at the steering wheel with her right hand, holding her phone to her ear with her left. “Clark, I'm so sorry,” she gasped, her breaths coming hard. “I went to see Lex, and he was really drunk.”
“What happened?” Clark asked, immediately worried.
Lana paused, then said anxiously, “He knows. I don't know how he could tell, but…he could tell I was hiding your secret. I didn't say anything to him, but he got really angry and—”
“Lana, that's okay,” Clark interrupted, switching the phone to his other ear. “Where are you now?”
“Um…” She checked out the window. “I'm on Route 40 right before Loeb Bridge.”
Her SUV shot down the road, past the US 40 sign. Some yards behind her, a silver sports car was speeding along too.
The lone figure on the other side of the road saw this from a distance—saw the two cars approaching its position—saw the crucial moment drawing near. The sound of the sports car’s horn rang out repeatedly—
—and Lana’s terror turned absolute. “Oh God…” She glanced out the back window, the headlights seeming like the glowing white eyes of some demonic creature, the sound of the horn a trumpet of doom. “Oh God, he's coming after me!”
“Lana?” Clark said, now truly scared.
Lex’s car was drawing level with Lana’s. On the side of the road, the figure’s eyes began to glow a fiery orange.
“Lana!” Lex shouted through the passenger-side window of his car. “Lana! Just pull over so we can talk—”
BLAM!
Lana screamed—the tires squealed as she swerved right, eyes wide—behind her, Lex’s car flipped head over heels through the air—
—right past an approaching school bus. The driver slammed on the brakes, the bus screeching to a stop mere inches away from the car as it hurtled to the ground—
Lana’s car stopped, well off the road, as a tremendous CRASH of steel and glass tore through her eardrums. Then there was silence—save for her ragged, terrified breathing. Her shaking fingers undid the buckle and swung the door open; she clambered out, heart pounding against her chest, and headed towards the scene, soon breaking into a run—
She stopped, staring at the other side of the road…staring at the dark, nearly indistinguishable figure standing there. It turned from the grisly spot to face her, its features too shadowed to make out—
Then, in a dark blur, it was gone.
She stared on, utterly shaken and bewildered—
“Lana?! Lana?!”
She jumped as Clark’s voice crackled from the phone still in her hand. She put it to her ear, panting. “Clark…” She could barely catch her breath. “Clark…I’m okay…but something’s…something’s happened…I…” She shook as it began to truly hit her.
“Lana, just stay where you are,” Clark told her. “I’ll be right there.”
The line went dead. Lana let her hand drop to her side and turned towards the scene nearby…
Then, past the mangled wreck of Lex’s car, she caught sight of a dark blur. It shot around the bus so quickly that nobody else noticed—
—and an instant later, Clark was standing right next to her, utter concern on his face. “Lana?”
She all but lunged forward, throwing her arms around him; he held her close, her face nearly buried in his chest, his embrace gentle but firm, as he looked towards the center of the accident scene.
The bus was undamaged, for it had stopped just in time—but Lex’s car was utterly destroyed, countless shards of glass surrounding it. Flames licked at what was left of the front as smoke billowed into the night sky…
But most wrenching of all was the sight of the bloody body that lay half in and half out of the car, a still arm limply stretched across the glass-covered asphalt.
Lex Luthor was dead.
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