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Clark remembers when his powers kicked it- the awe, the pure amazement at what he could do. He felt like Peter Pan, like Wendy sprinkled with stardust. What kid wouldn’t be excited to find out he could fly?
He didn’t understand his parent’s caution, their serious tone. It was almost magic. How could that not be a good thing? He was able to save that lady and her baby. She cried on the side of the road, thanking them for help. She didn’t know it was Clark that had saved her life- Ma came up with some story about makeshift speed bumps and the lady seemed to buy it. It helped that she was just visiting from the city- Pa said she didn’t have ‘frame of reference’. She was too upset to risk getting behind the wheel again, so she called her sister, the real country mouse, to come pick her up. Ma and Pa sat with her until her sister got there, feeding her biscuits and sweet tea.
It was the best feeling in the world, helping that woman. It was even better than a cold glass of milk after Ma’s apple pie, better than sitting next to the fireplace in the dead of winter, better than in-season cherries.
He wanted to do it again. He wanted to know everything about his powers, how they worked, what he could do with them. Ma and Pa didn’t have answers, so they tried to show him what they did know. They told him the story, finding him by luck or chance or fate. It sounded like a fairy-tale. Clark was entranced, soaking up every scrap of information.
And then they showed him the spaceship and it almost killed them.
He remembers feeling so stupid. His powers aren’t a gift, they’re a curse. Nothing can be good if it gets Ma and Pa hurt. He wishes the strangeness about him would just go away.
It feels like everyday he finds a new way that he’s different from others. The way he has to fight to keep his feet on the ground, his body trying to float away from him. The strength that breaks practically everything he touches for months after it kicks in.
Sometimes he looks in the mirror and his eyes are too blue.
Mostly, it pops back up on him in nightmare form.
It always starts with them digging. This time is no different. Clark swallows, a cold pit in his stomach as he watches the shovels sling dirt to the side. It’s like the first time, except the anticipation isn’t excited, just ominous. There’s a creeping feeling of unease. Ma and Pa don’t seem to notice, and that scares Clark more.
He wants to say something, to warn them, but he doesn’t even know what he would be warning them about.
They dig and dig and dig, and all Clark can do is stand there.
When it’s time, he has to force his legs to move, to take that first step. He’s never felt so heavy. Clark can feel a shift in the air the second his foot touches the strange stone.
Blue light threads beneath his feet, monoliths rising around him. He places a hand on one and there’s a flash of blue, bright enough to blind him for a second. When it clears, there’s a projection of a man, all imposing figure and blue staticky lines.
“Hello?” Clark tries, sinking his nails into his jeans. He already knows it won’t work.
The projection opens its mouth and speaks, an incomprehensible jumble of sounds. Clark can taste iron in the back of his throat.
The monoliths float closer, closing in on him. The projection’s voice gets louder, something like urgency in its tone.
It changes in an instant, twisting from anticipation to horror. The ground shakes and crumbles and there’s a frantic dawning realization pretzeling Clark’s intestines.
It’s too much, too quick. The world caving in. Ma’s scream. Pa loses his grip and she falls. Clark isn’t fast enough to catch her, isn’t fast enough to save Pa from falling in after. They’re lying still when he gets to them. It’s only been a second, but it was the most important second in his life. He shakes Pa’s shoulder, but he’s limp and unresponsive.
Clark doesn’t know what to do. He rolls Ma over and sees red where her face used to be-
Clark screams.
All of a sudden he’s back a few minutes and Pa’s fingers are slipping. He doesn’t stop to question the second chance. Clark flies faster than he’s ever flown before. He wraps them in his arms and goes up. High enough that Ma and Pa are out of reach of the ship. High enough that they’ll be safe. He hears a snap- he squeezed hard enough to break Pa’s arm. The bone juts out, white and accusatory. Safe from the ship, but not safe from him. Clark gags, loosening his grip, only to lose hold of them completely. They plummet to the floor. “No!” Clark shrieks, diving for them.
The wet crunch is the last thing he hears.
He wakes with a start, panicking and half-trapped in the horror of the nightmare. It takes several gasping breaths before he can even make his body move.
Clark thrashes, legs tangled in the sheets. Flashes of the nightmare crowd his mind, snapshots of horror.
The gleaming bones, bones broken worse than the dog after she got caught in the farm equipment. The blood on the ground, on his hands.
Ma and Pa crushed under the weight of the ship, under the weight of the unknown. The unknown they brought into their house, the unknown that they raised as their own and look where that got them.
The worst part is, it was a nightmare with roots in reality. Roots in the metal ship that’s still there. It took them the better part of a day to dig the dirt up, the day it really happened. The better part of a day to dig up and only a second to go south.
Clark wishes they never had unearthed it in the first place.
He wishes they never told him in the first place.
That’s- it’s unfair. Clark knows it’s unfair. He asked and they answered and it’s not their fault the answer was so awful. Still, on nights like this, nights where the seeds that knowledge planted bloom ugly fear, he can’t help but think maybe ignorance really is bliss.
Ma would tell him off for thinking like that- she always says better to know too much than to not know anything at all. Granted, she’s usually saying that to get him to finish his homework, but he thinks it applies here too.
He needs to calm down. His heart is still racing, booming loud in his ears. Maybe he should go check on his parents. He knows they’re fine, of course they’re fine, but he can’t hear Pa’s snoring over his own heartbeat.
But what if that’s what’s not safe? What if he’s the danger?
The sickening echo of snap rings through his head.
Clark gags, beginning to hyperventilate.
The light is switched on with a start, illuminating Pa standing in the doorway, face creased with concern. Clark tackles him in a hug, floating mid-air and dragging half his bedding with him. Walking is out of the question- he’s too worked up. If he tried to escape the sheets like this, he’d probably end up ripping them. Ma’s always having to fix stuff he breaks- he doesn’t want to burden her with that, especially not tonight.
Pa carries him back to his bed, sitting with a low groan. He’s rubbing his thumb in circles over Clark’s back like he’s a little kid. It does help, easing his sobs quieter. When he’s calm enough that he can breath without it sounding like he’s trying to suck all the air out of the room, he scooches back just enough to look up at Pa’s face.
“Why did you come?” he asks, sniffling.
“You were screaming, kiddo,” Pa says, all gentle like he’s talking to one of the cows.
Clark is too shaken up to feel ashamed. He burrows closer, wanting to be as close to Pa as he can. Pa’s big and warm and it makes Clark feel safe.
They sit in comfortable silence, Clark’s shaking dying down in inches. Pa shifts in a way Clark recognizes as a sign that he’s about to speak.
“Back when I was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Pa starts.
Clark giggle-snorts through the tears. The silly phrasing always makes him laugh. Pa’s looking pleased as can be, so that’s probably the reaction he was going for.
“We got a new thresher machine. Now, it would probably look like an old piece of farm equipment to you, but to me it looked like something out of those sci-fi paperbacks I read when I was your age. Scared me half to death. I used to get these horrible nightmares about it coming to life and hunting me all through the cornfields.”
Clark presses closer, looking up at him with wide eyes. He hasn’t heard this story before. “How’d you get them to stop?”
Pa ruffles his hair. “I grew out of it eventually. Things usually aren’t as scary as they seem after a while.” Clark chews his lip. He doesn’t think the thought of Ma and Pa dying will ever not be scary. They’re his parents- they can’t just be gone.
“Whad’ya say you hop in with me and Ma tonight?” Pa suggests after a long moment.
Clark nods, and Pa untangles him from the sheets so he can stand, still holding Pa’s hand (not tight, not tight at all).
The walk down the hall is only a few steps, but it feels like it takes ages. Clark winces at the icy cold floor. He really should have worn socks to bed.
He jumps on the bed and wiggles into the crevice between his parents. Clark knows he’s too old to be sleeping in his parents’ bed, but they don’t seem to mind. Ma just throws an arm over him and pulls him closer.
It’s become a more common occurrence lately. In the weeks after the Alien Spaceship Incident, he rarely left their side for longer than a few minutes. It’s been months now- he’s relaxed some, unable to fully let go of the anxiety. They’ve definitely noticed, but they don’t make a big deal out of it, so Clark doesn’t either.
It’s warm, sandwiched between their bodies under the thick quilt. It’s the safest place in the whole wide world.
Somehow, it's not hard to get back to sleep.
Everything always seems easier in the morning.
Light shines through the window, warming the room with its rays. Clark’s still tucked under Pa’s arm, even though he’s awake and has been for awhile, judging by the clearness in his eyes. The smell of good food wafting through the open door tells him exactly where Ma is.
He doesn’t get up right away, wanting to stay under the cozy blanket. Eventually, the smell from the kitchen gets too tempting to resist. Clark slips out of the bed, floating as he tracks the scent to its source. Pa follows him out, yawning.
Clark beats him by a mile, whizzing down to help with plates.
Ma made scrambled eggs and bacon and silver dollar pancakes swimming in syrup- all his favorites. It’s so nice that Clark almost starts to tear up again. His parents are the best.
They look at him and they love him. It doesn’t matter where he came from or what he is, not to them. All they see is their son. That’s all he wants to be. He wants to forget about aliens or powers and just be Ma and Pa’s kid.
The pit in his stomach temporarily filled with parental love, the fears of the night still present, but a little less consuming in the light.
It won’t last.
There’s still an alien spaceship buried in the field. A dangerous humming thing that could take everything he loves away from him.
A thick layer of earth won’t hold it forever.
It won’t last, but it’s enough for now.