"Pentagon officials continue to deny any security breach and any responsibility for the events of Dark Thursday. Experts predicted recovery from Dark Thursday would take years. But here in Metropolis, the clean-up effort has been remarkably...," the woman on TV says. I hear the door open making me look up from the TV. "Public is stunned at how fast rubble has been cleared from the streets. This is Genevieve Sparling reporting live from..." Mom turns off the TV when she sees Clark, my brother, walking in.
"You've been out again all night, haven't you," Mom questions him.
"Can't do what I need to do in the daylight," Clark points out.
"Clark, we know you wanna help, but... you can't single-handedly rebuild everything that's been destroyed," I sigh.
"It's my mess, Callie, I need to clean it up."
"You're not responsible for what happened... Zod is," Mom says.
"Zod would not have been released if for once in my life I'd listened to Jor-El and done what he asked me to do." I sigh, and he speaks again. "I have chores to do."
"Already done," I stop him as he sways light-headed. "Hey," I say, standing up and getting a good look at him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assures me.
"Clark, no, you're not. I've never seen you this wore out before. Even you have your limits. You need to rest."
"I'm okay. Really. I'm fine." He leaves the house, and I shake my head.
"That boy never knows when it's time to stop," I say.
"Don't I know," Mom says. "How are you doing? Are you okay?"
"Not really. I know you told me not to blame myself, but it's hard not to when I'm only here because Jor-El wanted me to protect Clark," I sigh. "And I failed to do that."
"There was nothing you could've done. If you had--," she starts when I suddenly hear a loud crash come from outside.
I choke on my tea, speaking. "What the hell was that?" I head outside, and my eyes widen when I see that the barn door has been ripped off its' hinges. Clark slowly walks out of the barn, turning around to see it missing. "Um... Clark, what happened?"
"Uh... I sneezed," he admits, scratching his head.
"You sneezed?"
"Yep," he nods.
"Right. Let's get you inside before you blow something else off it's hinges."
~ ~ ~
"Clark, was that the first time you ever sneezed?"
"Mm-hmm, the first I've had a scratchy throat with my ears plugged up," he nods, looking at the thermometer. "Ninety-eight point six."
"No fever."
"I'm no doctor, but it seems like it's just a common cold," Clark says.
"You're far from common, Clark. I don't remember you ever even having the sniffles," Mom admits.
"I've never pushed myself so far into overdrive before," he says.
"You know, when we were in the Phantom Zone, we both lost our powers. That means our immune systems were normal. You could have been exposed to something there," I suggest.
"Whatever it is, I'm not really that sick, so," he shrugs when there's a knock at the door.
"Hi, you guys are not gonna believe what just happened to me," Lois, a friend of ours, says, walking toward the fridge. "I'm out there joggling along, minding my own business when out of nowhere, a barn door comes falling from the clear blue sky and almost crushes me," she explains. "How does that happen?" She takes a gulp of her water. We exchange glances.
"Maybe it fell from an airplane," I suggest.
"Good guess, but the only thing up there was a severely traumatized sparrow," she says as Clarke sniffles.
"Uh-oh. Does Clarkie have the sniffles," she teases. He glares at her.
"It's just a little cold," Mom says.
"Well, lucky for you, I have the perfect remedy. Honey and a little bit of cayenne pepper. Works every time. First it makes you sneeze a bunch of times but then I swear you're pretty much cured." We exchange worried looks at the word "sneeze."
"Lois, I'll pass," Clark says.
"I think we're all out of cayenne, Lois," Mom lies. She spins the spice rack around, grabbing it.
"No, you're not, I'm just gonna whip up a little bit of something here," she starts, turning toward the window. She stops, looking out the window. "Where did your barn door go? It was here last night when I came to drop off documents, and now it's gone." We look out the window.
"Look at that. It is gone," Clark comments.
"And it's been ripped right off it's hinges," she adds. "Oh, my God, that barn door. I knew it looked familiar. Now, how in the world does that happen?"
