In the Clouds

Clark Kent: Part 5

The way she spoke about her father's military service didn't exactly sing of high praise. It wasn't wholly disparaging either, though. Clark wasn't terribly surprised. Being a prominent general and being a reporter seemed like somewhat conflicting jobs, one concerned with safety and security and one concerned with freedom and truth. Besides, it was easy to imagine having what effectively amounted to a drill sergeant for a parent. Raised voices and strict discipline. It was a somewhat contrary image to his own upbringing. His parents couldn't have controlled him physically, but they didn't have to. They'd made him a hard worker with steady hands and sound advice.

"I might take you up on that just to see if you're exaggerating or not," The Kryptonian teased, but he could tell she wasn't. While she didn't seem to feel negatively about her upbringing at a glance, it was pretty much impossible to truly gauge how someone felt so quickly, so he thought better than to pry. Even if prying was there job, getting that personal seemed like an ill-advised way to run his new maybe-friend off. They could be friends, right? Even with all this other information complicating things, nothing was stopping them.

She laughed at his half-joke. Clark couldn't help but grin again at it, the sort of warm elation he felt in his chest at the sound. Lois had a lovely laugh. Making her laugh himself, in particular, was a more than slightly pleasant experience. It was pretty easy to see what his mother had talked about, that effortless way of easing into the other person. He waved dismissively. "I knew what you meant, don't worry." His fingers tapped the table as he spoke, as though restlessly in thought. It wasn't an easy question, after all - especially for someone like him.


One might think Clark would be satisfied with his lot in life. That he'd done a lot and had a lot to be proud of for it. One wouldn't be mistaken, either - Clark loved helping people, be it by pulling buses back onto bridges or just giving out change. He loved being a reporter, too, sharing that meaningful truth with others whenever and however he could. That being said, it wasn't dissatisfaction in what he'd done that bothered Clark. It was dissatisfaction in what he hadn't done. A feeling like he needed to do more that hung over him like a cloud.

He had all these gifts, all these powers, and yet people still suffered around him. Around the world. A part of him knew that someone out there needed his help right then and there while he sat there indulging himself in conversation with someone. No matter how brilliant that person seemed to be. He could be there helping them. His mother would argue that it wasn't his responsibility to shoulder the weight of the planet - that he couldn't do it. Clark would argue otherwise.

For a moment, Clark's years practicing tuning out the white noise of the world failed him. A slew of different noises flooded his senses, a torrent of sound that drowned out the world around him. Some brought him happiness. The distant sound of laughter. His father cursing under his breath at their tractor, thinking his mother couldn't hear. Music - so much music.

Then, an explosion. An infant crying. A gunshot.

At that moment of silence, Clark absent-mindedly pushed his glasses down and rubbed the bridge of his nose, not paying any mind to the color of his eyes - a detail of himself he only knew in passing anyways. The noises faded into the background again. "Sorry. Little bit of a headache," Clark smiled faintly and pushed the glasses back up his face. "I don't think I'll ever be done, no, but I do think I helped people." A serious expression for a serious answer to a serious question.

He tilted his head, as if considering the question further for a moment. "It's not that I don't think what you and I do makes a difference. Maybe someday, there won't be any more truth left to expose." Or muggers to stop, or trains to catch. "Until then, I've got my work cut out for me. And, frankly, I intend to do it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, because... well, I just think helping people is important. Makes it all worth it."

Lois's discomfort was hard for the Kryptonian not to note. "Yeah, it does," He observed quietly. It wasn't until then that he considered something: Presidents' Day was months ago. Had she spent that entire time looking for her other half? Had she given up? "I don't think I did. Not yet, anyway." Did she think it was a lost cause, that she would just have to live her life without that connection? There he was with the information she might have been searching for, and intentionally withholding it.

Gosh, he felt like a jerk.

"Not made of steel like the man in blue, huh?" Clark continued on, not letting that particular feeling linger too long. "Yes, there's an outside of reporting, Miss Lane. I'd say we're doing it right now if this wasn't turning into a mutual interview," He half-joked, though his smile was good-natured. Granted, all of them were. Punctuating her answer with a nod, Clark responded, "I mean, you're already on the way, right? Keep doing what you're doing and you'll be at the top in no time, I'm sure."

-

 What did Clark Kent do in his free time? Well, that morning, he'd gone to Paris and captured a terrorist and flown back before his shift. That wasn't exactly something he could just blurt out. "Not nearly as interesting as any of that. I play baseball when I can. Like to go on walks, visit parks. I'd love to try all of that, honestly." It wasn't to say he'd never traveled - Clark had seen the world, but he was still the sort of hopeless farmboy at heart. "I think mostly I just want to know the people, though. To see all the different faces moving around. Like I said, compared to Smallville, this place is so alive. There's so much energy everywhere."

A sheepish smile spread across his face. "I don't know, really. I'm not looking to take anyone's place or anything. Just wanna do good where I can." Blue eyes shifted past her to the street, watching cars go by for a moment before returning to her. "I think if I get too far off the ground I'll forget what it was like to be small. Some people are suited that sort of leadership," He gestured to her. "But I don't want to lose sight of where I came from." Another answer with a double meaning.

Again, the question shifted back into his corner. "I know how you got started now. Where you want to go with it. You know why I do it, too. What about you? What are you trying to do as a reporter? What drives you forward, even when Perry keeps cutting requests and you know not everyone is going to like what you're doing?" Clark was pretty sure he knew the answer - the truth so drove Lois it was a wonder she was in any editor's good graces. Still, he was curious.