Time and Again 1: Second Chance
A Superman Smallville Fixit Fic
The roaring in his ears is louder than every train and every plane on earth put together. And while it’s normal for him to be able to hear such things, they don’t ever sound so close. And, usually, he can filter sounds, listen for what he actually wants to hear. Multicolored lights flicker against his eyelids, bright and sharp in a way that would likely be painful were he human. He cannot open his eyes — or he doesn’t want to. It feels like he is flying, but with no control, hurtling blindly at a speed near the limit of his abilities.
He hits the water so hard it might as well have been concrete. A human would have died instantly, but the water gives way for him, closing around his body and filling his nose, ears, and mouth with liquid ice that tastes of metal and oil. He finally opens his eyes as the water falls away, and he is kneeling on the shore with no memory of climbing from the river, his breath short, and water dripping into his face.
Brilliant eyes like sun-kissed ocean waves meet his, wide and shocked. Lex. Lifting his head from where he lies on the rocky ground, Lex stares up at him with no hint of the anger and hatred Clark is accustomed to seeing whenever circumstances force them to meet. Instead, there is only wonder. “I could have sworn I hit you,” Lex says, and recognition hits Clark like Lex’s car hit him so many years — a few minutes — ago.
This is not the Lex he knows — this is the Lex he used to know. Twenty-one years old, and not yet jaded and ruined by life, this is Lex before… before everything went wrong.
“Clark!” He looks up at the shout, and his heart squeezes even tighter in his chest. Jonathan Kent, young and alive, is boot skiing down the embankment from the road. “Son, are you all right?” God, he’s younger than Clark is — was?
“I’m — ” Clark’s throat closes and he swallows hard. “I’m okay.” It’s not exactly the truth, but his wounds are not physical — they so rarely are.
Jonathan grabs Clark’s shoulders, and Clark pushes himself to his feet and tries not to smile indulgently as his father checks him over for injuries. This is a Jonathan who doesn’t yet know the extent of his son’s abilities, and still worries that Clark will be hurt — not that Jonathan ever stopped worrying about Clark no matter what happened. Satisfied that Clark is telling the truth, Jonathan steps back, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “Who’s the maniac who was driving that car?”
“That would be me.” Lex has gotten to his feet. He sways alarmingly, and Clark automatically catches his arm, steadying him. Lex nods a thanks and continues, “Lex Luthor.” He offers Jonathan his hand, but Jonathan ignores it; he shrugs and turns back toward Clark whose heart clenches at the evidence that Lex is already so used to such treatment. “Thanks for saving my life.”
His delight at seeing Jonathan alive now somewhat shadowed, Clark takes the hand his father rebuffed. “Clark Kent. And I’m just glad I could help.”
“If there’s any way I can repay you — ” Lex begins, but Jonathan cuts him off, tugging Clark away by the arm, a frown twisting his face.
“Drive slower.”
***
It can’t be real, and yet, it is. He is fifteen again, back in Smallville with a second chance to avoid the mistakes he made the first time. Please, God, let it be real.
Weird experiences are far from being new to Clark. Even before he discovered he was from another planet, a science fiction story come to life, he knew he was different. Sometimes he wished he could have had a normal life, but he soon realized that there was no such thing — working in the news business, he couldn’t avoid that knowledge. After everything he’d seen and done, Clark had begun to think nothing could surprise him. Then this happened.
Of course, the shiny new truck is not a surprise this time. He grins at Lex’s looping handwriting: ‘Dear Clark, drive safely. Always in your debt, the maniac in the Porsche.’ He almost forgot that Lex had a sense of humour… has a sense of humour. Glancing up at his mother, he lets his smile fall into a grimace. “Dad won’t let me keep this.”
“You’ll have to talk to him,” Martha replies diplomatically. Although she is so young now, he can see the politician she becomes, the mother and widow who lost so much, and he has to turn away so she doesn’t see the tears in his eyes.
Blinking furiously, he gets himself back under control and manages a smile and nod. She gives him an odd look, but he leaves before she can say anything else. If anyone is going to notice that Clark is not himself, it will be Martha. She knows her son, and she’s a lot smarter than he gave her credit for back when he was fifteen the first time. She probably knew, or guessed, how he felt about Lex, though she never said anything.
Jonathan turns off the wood chipper as Clark approaches, and the deja vu is so strong he nearly stops in his tracks. Somehow, he makes himself keep walking.
Leaning on the chipper, Jonathan takes off his gloves and slaps them against his leg, sending a cloud of dust into the air. “I know how much you want it, son, but you can’t keep it.”
Clark can’t quite force himself to say the whiny entitled words he said the first time this happened, so he just nods. “What if… you drive the new one and…” No, he can’t even say that. He sighs. He wants to take it back, to have an excuse to see Lex, to restart the friendship he lost.
“Clark…” Jonathan sighs too. “Gifts from Luthors are never just gifts. There’s always strings attached. Do you remember Mr. Bell? We used to go fishing on his property. How about Mr. Guy? He used to send us pumpkins every Halloween. Well, Lionel Luthor promised to cut them in on a deal. He sent them flashy gifts. Once they’d sold their property, he went back on his word. He had them evicted, son.”
Right. Shit. Lionel Luthor. Somehow Clark forgot — or didn’t want to remember — that he would be alive now. “Lex isn’t his father.” Not yet. And if Clark has anything to say about it, he never will be. Not this time.
“No, he’s not.” Jonathan sighs again, heavily. “I just want to make sure that you know where the money came from that bought that truck, Clark. I’m sorry; I know you’re upset. That’s normal.”
“Normal.” Clark closes his eyes for a moment. Last time, he stuck his arm in the chipper and turned it on, probably panicking Jonathan for the time it took him to realize Clark wasn’t hurt. He’s no longer that stupid teenager who didn’t know how that might affect his father’s heart, let alone how much new blades cost, so he just says, “Dad, I’m not normal. Lex’s car hit me… at 60 miles an hour.”
Jonathan tucks his gloves into his jeans pocket, his expression turning even more serious. “It’s time, son. It’s time for you to know.”
Clark makes a sudden decision. “I already know, Dad.” He’s spent his life lying to so many people, and he’s so tired of it. He chews on his lower lip. “Dad, there’s something I have to tell you and Mom.”
***
The late afternoon sunlight pours in through the windows. Clark faces his parents across the kitchen island, wondering if they’ll believe him. Yes, they already believe in a few unbelievable things, such as life on other planets, but this is a bit bigger than that. “Dad was going to show me the ship in the storm cellar, but… I already know I’m not human.”
Their eyes widen, and Martha takes Jonathan’s hand, her fingers tight around his. She opens her mouth, but then closes it again.
“I…” His gaze drops and he studies his hands, lying flat on the countertop. “Something happened that day on the bridge. I have memories I shouldn’t have. I remember growing up, moving to Metropolis and having a career, living a full life, being an adult.” Clark wets his lips. “It feels just as real as this does.” He swallows and turns his hands, threading his fingers together. “More real, in some ways. To me, this all happened years ago, and I’m living it all over again.”
He’s not sure they believe him, but they are just as supportive as always. He has to blink away tears again when Martha wraps her arms around him and Jonathan joins her. It’s been so long since he felt his father’s embrace.
***
He takes the truck back, of course. With a lifetime of knowledge and experience, he understands why Jonathan can’t let him keep it. And he really needs to see Lex again.
Just like he remembers, Lex is not at all offended when Clark tells him he can’t keep the truck. “Your father doesn’t like me, does he? It’s okay,” he says, his voice resigned. “I’ve been bald since I was nine. I’m used to people judging me before they get to know me.”
Sudden anger rises up in Clark, burning in his nerve endings. Was he the only person in Lex’s life who ever believed in him? And then he betrayed him too. Not this time. He forces his jaw muscles to relax, his fists to uncurl. “That’s not fair. What you look like or who your father is shouldn’t matter.”
Lex’s lips twitch. “Thank you, Clark. But your father figures the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, doesn’t he? That’s understandable. What about you, Clark? Did you fall far from the tree?”
“You have no idea,” Clark mutters. He really wants to tell Lex everything — the words are there on the tip of his tongue… but he swallows them back. It’s too soon. He’ll have to tell him, but not yet. Clark remembers years together, a friendship that became something more, and then something less, but never what he really wanted it to be — but Lex doesn’t know him yet. By Lex’s perspective, they just met. He’ll scare Lex off if he blurts out his secret now.
“Clark…” Lex takes a step toward him, and Clark’s mouth goes dry. The Lex he knows — knew — was still sexy as all hell, but this Lex… his youth gives him a rawness that affects Clark — and this hormonal teenage body — in a way that’s about to be embarrassing. “Do you believe a man can fly?”
Trying to focus on Lex’s words, Clark fastens his gaze on Lex’s face, away from his distracting body. “Sure. Why not?” God, he misses flying. That was one of the last abilities he developed while growing up, but it has been so many years and he forgot what it was like to be unable. He can run faster than a Japanese bullet train and leap over pretty much anything — not that there’s much in Smallville to test him — but there was a freedom in flight that he never found anywhere else.
An indulgent smile crosses Lex’s face. “I’m not talking about riding in an airplane. I’m talking about soaring through the clouds with nothing but air beneath you.”
Clark smiles back, holding Lex’s gaze. “Yeah. Me too.” He’s sure there must be a wistful look in his eyes but he refuses to feel embarrassed.
A few moments of silence stretch out as Lex’s smile fades into a thoughtful expression. He studies Clark intently. “I did,” he finally says, his voice so soft a human would have to strain to hear. “After the accident, when my heart stopped. It was the most exhilarating two minutes of my life. I flew over Smallville, and for the first time, I didn’t see a dead end. I saw a new beginning. Thanks to you, I have a second chance. We have a future, Clark… and I don’t want anything to stand in the way of our friendship.”
His throat so tight he can’t reply, Clark only nods. They have a future — God, how he wants that. Last time, Clark stood in the way: Clark and his secrets and lies. He will not do that again. This is his second chance — their second chance.
***
He’s feeling pretty good about himself when everything goes to hell. Damn it, he should have remembered Whitney had Lana’s kryptonite necklace. Getting caught like that again is just embarrassing. And hanging from that stupid cross is mortifying. He hates feeling helpless — being helpless.
Lex pushes his way through the cornstalks right on schedule, and Clark can barely lift his head to see him. The chain around his neck feels like it’s holding a planet… except he’s moved planets that weren’t this heavy. It’s such a tiny piece of kryptonite, but he has no resistance to the stuff. After years of Lex using it against him, he’d like to think he built up some immunity and a piece this small wouldn’t affect him so much — but he’s not in that body anymore. This body’s exposure is limited to whatever happens to be lying around in Smallville.
“Clark?” Lex doesn’t hesitate to reach up and untie the ropes that are binding Clark. “Who did this to you?”
“I have to stop him.” His arms free, Clark falls into the dirt, barely managing to get his hands out to catch himself against the — thankfully — soft ground. “He’s gonna kill everyone.”
“Who?” Lex’s hands are warm against his arms and back, helping him up. “Clark, you need to see a doctor.”
“No. There’s no time. I have to stop him.” Clark tries to take a step forward, and loses his balance, nearly face planting again. Shit. He really hates being helpless.
“Whoa!” Lex catches him, steadying him with one hand on his shoulder and one on his forearm. “At least let me give you a ride.”
About to protest, Clark bites back the words. There really is no time, and he can’t run until the effects of the kryptonite wear off. “Okay. But, first, can you get this necklace off of me?”
Lex gives him an odd look, but obliges, tucking the chain into a pocket. Clark will have to explain later, but for now, Lex simply helps him to the car and drives him to the school. The trust in these simple actions nearly brings Clark to tears again, and he silently vows that he will not betray that trust this time around.
Stopping Jeremy is easier this time, knowing exactly what he’s going to do. Clark feels a pang of guilt when the boy loses his memory, but he isn’t sure how to avoid that, and it’s probably for the best. Jeremy had too many painful memories.
*
Keeping reading with Chapter 2:
This piece is part of the short fiction challenge of the LGBTQ Fiction Project, hosted on Crossin(G)enres. This week’s theme is “A Ripple in Time.”
