An Odd Place to Find Oneself

Chapter 1: The Name of Science

"Thank you very much for your interest in our humble project," Professor Emil Hamilton said, escorting Clark Kent, Lois Lane, and Jimmy Olsen through the tall double-doors that led to STAR Labs Metropolis room 301B.

"Just doing our jobs, Prof!" Jimmy said, immediately beginning to snap photos of his surroundings.

Lois wore an unimpressed expression, like she often did. "So, Professor Hamilton," she began, rapping her pencil against her chin and then pressing it against her notepad. "So, is this the so-called 'thought transfer system'?" She gestured to a huge apparatus before them. It consisted of three connected booths; expansive seats with seatbelts were in each, and there was bizarre-looking metal headgear dangling from each ceiling.

"Correct, Miss Lane," Emil replied. "Would you like a demonstration?" he said, his voice eager.

"That would be great," Clark piped up (though he was not actually sure it would be), "but we have a few more questions to ask first. Firstly –"

He paused for a moment, realizing he hadn't quite gathered his thoughts yet. Lois took this opportunity to intercept him. "Let's start with an easy one. What's the purpose of this project?"

"Well, we can see several uses for this research, but perhaps the foremost is enabling people with disabilities that prevent normal speech to communicate with loved ones," Prof. Hamilton said. "If this system works as we designed it to, it will enable a thought to be transferred directly from one brain to another."

"Mm-hmm." Lois wrote busily on her notepad. "Sounds noble…but you don't think such technology could be abused?"

"Ah – well, it's possible, of course," Emil said. "It's always possible for technology created for good to be used for evil, after all. But – I actually don't think this is particularly likely. You can't actually use this system to extract thoughts from another mind. It's really not possible to receive a thought from another person unless they are very intentionally focusing on that one thought and, um, trying to mentally send it off to the recipient brain, if that makes sense."

"So, actual 'mind-reading' is basically out of the question, you're saying," Lois said.

"Well, I would think so," Emil said.

"You don't think the system could be modified to allow such capabilities?" Lois said, rapping the pencil against her chin again.

"Basically, the answer is no," Emil said. "It would have to be...almost fundamentally changed, I would say."

"Can you use this machine to influence another's thoughts in such a way as to force them to take an action?" Lois said.

"We've been careful to make sure it targets only very specific areas of the brain so as to prevent that," the Professor said.

"Well, the project certainly sounds promising," Clark said. "But, um…if you don't think it's dangerous, is there…any particular reason it was kept from the public for so long?" He rapped his pencil against his notepad, feeling somewhat flustered. He honestly wasn't sure what to think of the project yet. Obviously, he wanted to trust the man who had done so much research to help him and provided him with such a technological bounty over the years. On the other hand, he knew the somewhat absent-minded Hamilton had created more than a few busts over the years, and that he didn't always exercise the proper caution or discernment.

"Well, at first, we weren't so sure that this project would work out, and we wouldn't want to get people's hopes up and not be able to deliver," Emil said.

"Of course," Clark interjected, instantly returning from his mental sojourn, in the same moment, writing on his notepad ever-so-slightly faster than was humanly possible.

"And also…" Emil took a breath. "You know with a project of this sort, there's going to be a lot of…speculation, since this is such a new and…somewhat startling technology."

"Yes, of course. Makes sense," Clark said, scribbling some more.

"When the first rumors about this project surfaced several months ago, they indicated that it was being developed for the military," Lois said. "Anything to say about that?"

"Um…only that the rumors are false," Emil replied.

Whether Lois felt doubts similar to his own or was just being her usual hard-nosed journalist self, Clark couldn't tell.

Lois wrote on her notepad. Clark took a breath, preparing himself to ask about the one thing that had actually been bothering him the most.

"Prof. Hamilton…?" he said.

The Professor blinked. "Yes?"

Clark started slightly. He realized that the words he had just spoke had been Superman speaking to his friend, not the reporter speaking to his interviewee. He sighed mentally. That conversation would have to wait for later.

He quickly recovered from surprising himself. "Is it true that the recently deceased Dr. Earl Garver, who turned to crime after leaving S.T.A.R. Labs…was originally in charge of this project?"

Emil flinched even more than Clark had expected him to. "Um, yes, it…it is true. But I assure you, like I said before, this project is entirely harmless as far as we can tell."

"Um…OK." Honestly, Clark didn't feel very satisfied by the answer. Hopefully, Emil would have more to say to Superman later.

"Well, thank you for your time, Professor," Lois said, turning to leave.

"Wait! Um, what about the demonstration?" Emil said.

"Yes. Of…course," Clark said, forcing himself to break into a smile. It may have been stupid, but he was still pretty worried.

Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed altogether eager. "Hey, can I participate?"

"Of course!" Emil said. "This early prototype actually works best with three people. If two people both try to send the same thought simultaneously to the target, it increases the chances of success. Tell you what." He turned to Lois Lane. "I'll secretly tell a single word to both you and Mr. Kent, and then you'll both try to send the thought to Mr. Olsen here."

"And you're sure this machine only sends the thoughts you're trying to send, right?" Lois said.

"Yes, certainly," Emil said.

"Afraid of letting Jimmy in on your deepest secrets, Lois?" Clark joked. Lois' only acknowledgement of his comment was an eyeroll, but Clark thought he sensed at least a twitch of bemusement in her lips.

The humor suddenly vanished from Clark's mind as a frightening thought moved in: What about his deepest secrets?

"Mr. Kent, Miss Lane, you two simply step into these two booths here, and Jimmy will go into that one," Emil explained.

"What about the word?" Clark said.

"Hm? Oh, right." He leaned in on Lois' shoulder – rather closer than she felt comfortable with, Clark thought – and whispered, "Science." Emil then leaned in to whisper it to Clark.

"You didn't hear that, did you, Mr. Olsen?" Emil said.

"You can call me Jimmy, and, uh, no."

"Good!" He proceeded to escort the young photojournalist into the last of the three booths.

"Erm – why are there seatbelts?" Jimmy asked before Emil closed the door.

"Ohh, well – it's possible for this machine to induce some minor convulsing," Emil explained.

"Er, it is?" Jimmy said nervously. But he wasn't as nervous as Clark, who actually knew Emil – and himself, for that matter. He knew that "a possibility for minor convulsions" could mean anything up to and including an induction of such a force into his body that he would accidentally destroy the lab with his super-strength.

Emil buckled Jimmy in and shut the door. As he approached the other two reporters, Clark felt queasy.

"Alright! You two ready?" he said, rubbing his hands together and wearing a rather strange and uncharacteristic smile.

"Yes," Lois said matter-of-factly.

"And you?" He turned to Clark, evidently sensing that he was not.

"Ah, well…" Clark scratched his hair with his pencil.

He broke the pencil.

"Oops," Clark said, watching half of the pencil roll on the floor behind him.

And it happened to be his lucky Peanuts pencil. Clark sighed.

"I – well, um, uh…" Clark said.

"Oh, come on, wimp," Lois said, practically shoving Clark into a booth.

"Okay, okay," Clark said weakly. His cheeks burned. Oftentimes, when Lois called him a wimp, he felt mildly amused, knowing that the misperception was a product of his clever acting. This time, though, he actually was being a wimp.

Lois got into the other booth and buckled up. Clark looked at her through the wall of his booth using his X-ray vision, then glanced at Jimmy the same way, feeling rather lame for the fact that they were perfectly willing while he, of all the people, the one person in the world least likely to be hurt by anything, was nervous.

"Alright, get ready!"

Clark took a deep breath and put on his seatbelt. He felt like he was forgetting something…

Oh, right. Science.

Science…science…science…science…

Suddenly, the metal cap descended from the ceiling and locked Clark's head in a death grip. Though it obviously didn't actually hurt him, he still flinched.

"3…2…1…activate!"

SCIENCE

Science science science science science science science science

Science science science science science science science science

Science science science science science science science science

The sensation in Clark's head was overwhelming. It was like every segment of his brain was inundated with a million shards of icy pain. And he just…couldn't do anything about it. Not even cry out for help.

Finally, the dust settled, in a sense. And everything was just…gone.

Clark was no longer sitting in a booth in a laboratory. He…had no idea where he was.

The only thing he could tell about his surroundings was that the word science seemed to be surrounding him on every side. He almost…felt as though he was made up of the word "science".

That doesn't even make sense, he said, shaking his head at himself, except…he wasn't actually shaking anything. And couldn't actually feel his head.

What..?! Where am I?! he asked himself. He tried to blink, but…there…was nothing to blink. He tried flailing desperately, but there was nothing to flail around.

Help…! he pleaded. Lois! Emil! Is anyone there?

Is that…is that Clark?

Lois?! Yes! It's me! Grab my hand!

It was strange. He had no sensation of Lois' fingers being in his, or…of having fingers at all…yet somehow, he could tell that Lois was hanging onto him, and him onto Lois…somehow.

He also had a strange sensation that Lois was…also made up of the word "science".

Lois…! Thank goodness! It's so good to…see you!

Clark didn't actually…see anything. And yet…there seemed no more appropriate word.

Ha…I can honestly say the same thing to you, Clark.

There was a rather awkward silence.

Professor Hamilton! Turn off the stupid machine! Lois shouted at the top of her lungs. Or at least, she was trying to.

I…don't think he can hear you, Clark said.

Yeah, I know. Just…on the off-chance he could, Lois said. She sighed.

Oh, I knew this was a bad idea, Clark said sullenly.

I guess your wimp instincts were spot-on, Lois grumbled. What on earth is happening!?

I don't know, Clark answered weakly.

It feels like we're floating through space, Lois said. And yet…we're…not.

There was another awkward silence.

Y-you know, Lois, it almost feels as though we're being pushed through space, Clark said. And…and…oh no, it's getting faster…

Clark…! Keep holding on to me!

I will, Lois! I'll never let go!

He felt a thrill go through himself at the closeness he felt to Lois. He gripped her as tightly as he did when he was saving her from danger as Superman.

The current…the current of whatever it was…was rushing faster and faster. And there was something…something else…something which was there before, though only in the background, but for a moment it became more noticeable.

It was huge, and…it…he…was in pain.

Jimmy?! Jimmy Olsen?!

Clark?! Is that y-

Suddenly it was gone. Only it wasn't gone. It had just gone back to being omnipresent, in the background.

Jimmy… Clark shuddered and clutched Lois tighter. Jimmy…I don't know what's going on, but please be safe.

And for some reason he couldn't explain, he had another thought:

Jimmy…please keep us safe.

Science. Science, science, science, science. For that one second, it was like that word, "science", was the only thing that existed in Jimmy's head. And yet it wasn't…

Just a second later, it felt as though his brain was about to burst. There was such a huge mental pressure inside…and it was so painful, and then…

It was gone.

Only, it wasn't.

Jimmy?! Jimmy Olsen?!

"Clark, is that you?" Jimmy asked.

What?

Wait, no it wasn't…it wasn't Clark…it was just a thought in his own head.

Jimmy blinked.

The helmet loosed its iron grip around his skull and was lifted up off of it.

The rather extreme disorientation slowly began fading. Once the young journalist finally got his bearings, he felt a moment of pleasure. Hey! It must've worked! That was the word – science!

He managed to fight the mental vexation enough to unbuckle himself and get out of the booth. He almost fell over.

"Are you OK?" Professor Hamilton asked, his voice betraying the tiniest bit of panic.

"D-doin' pretty good, Prof," Jimmy replied, sounding almost as if he was drunk. He shook his head and wiped off some sweat that had apparently decided to take up residence on his brow. "Whew...the word was 'science', right?"

The Professor smiled. "Exactly! Excellent."

"Wuh-hoo!" Jimmy said, though he felt drained by the experiment and was unable to muster as much energy in the words as he would've liked. "Hey Lois! Clark! It worked!" he shouted.

There was no response.

"Well, Mr. Kent? Miss Lane?" Prof. Hamilton said.

"Uh…hello, guys?" Jimmy said. He grabbed the handle to the door of Clark's booth.

"Uh-h…here, let me," Hamilton said, opening the door.

Clark was slumped over.

Jimmy started. "Um, Clark? Are you…OK?" He kneeled down and lifted up his friend's head.

Jimmy gasped involuntarily and jerked his hand back, accidentally knocking off the reporter's glasses.

Clark's eyes looked…dead.

"Lois?! Are you OK?!" Jimmy said, panicked. He ran over to the other booth and yanked on the handle. "Professor! Open it!" he almost yelled, turning to Emil.

"Uhh…y-yes, of course," the professor said, seeming too stunned to know how to react. He slowly walked to the door and opened it, seeming almost reluctant.

"Lois! Lois, are you…?"

Lois Lane was in the same slumped-over posture as Clark Kent.

"P-Professor! What happened?! I thought you said it was safe!" Jimmy said, stunned and panicked and unable to think or process anything.

"I…uh…well, um…I…" Emil said.

"Are they – are they OK? Aren't you going to-to get someone to check on them?" Jimmy said.

"Uh…well…of course!" the professor said, as if he had just had an epiphany. "I'll…I'll call the…the doctors and, uh, nurses right away!" He grabbed a phone out of his pocket, then walked far away.

Jimmy gulped. "Okay…that's good…I-I guess I'll just…call my editor…"

It was all sort of a blur, but soon Jimmy found himself talking to the chief.

"You've reached the Daily Planet. Editor-in-chief Perry White speaking. What is it, Jimmy?" He sounded tired and vaguely irritated, as usual.

"Um…Chief…" Jimmy said.

"Great Caesar's ghost, Olsen, how many times -"

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," Jimmy said.

"Well, what are you calling about?" Mr. White said.

"Uh-h…"

Some men had just come in and were putting Lois and Clark on stretchers.

"Spit it out, Jimmy! I don't have all day!" Mr. White said, annoyed.

But Jimmy couldn't reply.

The entire thing was surreal.

He felt a weird, sick feeling.

But most overwhelming was the feeling in his head. The weird feeling that he got from the machine had never really gone away. It was still lingering, ebbing and flowing, gradually torturing him.

The worst part was a weird sensation of voices in his head. Bodiless, wordless, barely audible, taunting him…

It was…they were…

Their voices.

Jimmy fell to the ground.

Chapter 2: Stars in the Wrong Places

Science, science, science…

Wait, what?

"Huh?"

Clark blinked.

Had he been daydreaming?

About…the word "science"?

And…Jimmy Olsen, or something?

He blinked some more.

What was he doing, anyway?

He was sitting in his chair at his desk, in front of his computer.

Oh, right, writing an article, Clark remembered. I'd better get back to work. Wonder what happened there…? I usually don't…drift off like that…oh well. He shrugged.

He continued typing.

He blinked.

Something seemed…wrong. Different.

He glanced around.

Huh.

Nothing seemed particularly wrong, at least not in a way he could place. It was just…weird. But somehow he couldn't put his finger on…anything.

He shook his head vigorously to try to clear his thoughts. This wasn't like him. He wasn't so, well…loopy.

Well, if I just focus on writing, I'll feel better, he figured. He began typing with a greater vigor.

Something seemed distinctly odd about the way he was typing, but he forced himself to ignore it. Soon enough, he began to feel a bit more comfortable, more like himself. Things still didn't feel right, though.

Maybe it's just an off day for me, he thought, trying to not worry about it.

The article went by like a breeze. Clark leaned back in his chair and smiled, as was his custom.

But as he looked on his stretched-out body, he felt perturbed. It looked…vaguely different, he was sure, and yet…he really couldn't place how.

"Ugh!" he said, getting up. Maybe he just had to walk around or something. He had to tell Perry he was done, anyway.

Something felt different about the way he was walking, and moving his arms, and breathing, and basically moving in any way…

He sighed.

Even sighing felt different.

He sighed again.

"Hi, Ron," he said as he passed by Ron Troupe's office, supposing that a little friendly conversation might distract him from the general off-ness he was feeling. "How's it going?"

Strangely, Ron did not reply. Clark stopped.

"…Ron?" Clark said hesitantly. He wanted to seem as meek and mild as always, but Ron's ignoring him was a bit surprising.

"Hm?" Ron glanced up from his computer. "Oh. Hi Clark." He immediately turned back to his computer screen.

Clark blinked. Usually Troupe was a bit more conversational. In fact, he generally loved it when Clark lent him a listening ear, since it gave him an opportunity to talk (or brag) about his articles and editorials, which he was often very passionate about.

Clark fidgeted awkwardly, confused by the response and wondering if he should try any further to get Ron to talk to him. But he decided that the mild-mannered thing to do would just be to walk away. Though he didn't like it, he did so, barely suppressing a sigh.

That's about enough sighing from you, Clark, he told himself. It's not like you were trying to stop a criminal and accidentally leveled the city, or something…

He stopped again.

He didn't know what, but there was something…not right about that thought.

Something about Superman…Su-Super Su…prmn…

Superman was flying through the sky, vaguely confused. For some reason, his brain was filled with…science. As in, just the word, "science". And he felt very…off, though he couldn't quite place it.

He blinked. What…was he doing, anyway? Seeing as he was Superman right now, and not Clark Kent, he supposed there must be some sort of crime or disaster or something that he was going to prevent…but…what was it?

He shook his head. Ugh! What is wrong with me today?

For some reason, he had a feeling that wasn't the first time he had thought that today, though he couldn't…quite remember…

Maybe it's nothing, Clark, he told himself. Just, you know. Do your thing, stop the crimes…maybe you'll feel better.

He stopped some criminals from committing some crimes, he saved people from some disasters…

Well, this is certainly a breeze! he thought to himself. But wow, I should be keeping track of time or something. Don't want the chief to get mad…I should at least call him up or something.

But why did that thought feel…weird?

With as much subtlety as he could muster, he dove into an empty alleyway. For some reason, the action felt a little odd, and unnatural…why? He did it every day.

He shrugged and grabbed his cape, so he could open the pouch and grab his cell phone and clothes and…

…

Huh?

There was no…pouch.

He turned his cape over and over and examined it as closely as possible, but the secret compartment was nowhere to be seen. Desperate, he used his X-ray vision to look inside the cape, but there was…nothing. No clothes inside it, or glasses, or cell phone, or anything.

Superman was baffled.

He just stood there for a while, turning his cape over and over again a few times, yielding no different result from before.

He suddenly took a deep breath. Somehow something felt very wrong…

Clark felt dazed.

What…just happened?

Did…did anything happen?

He scratched his head. Well, I guess it was nothing, he thought. Nothing happened. I was just…daydreaming.

Clark felt deeply frustrated and…troubled. And he couldn't place it.

He sighed. It was just a weird, weird feeling.

He continued walking toward White's desk.

"Great Caesar's ghost!" Perry snapped.

Clark jumped. "S-something wrong, Chief?"

"You're always taking far too long on your articles, Kent," Mr. White said snippily, leveling a condescending glare at the reporter.

"Uh-h…yeah…I'm sorry," Clark said, though he was confused. He didn't think he took very long on that particular article.

"Stuff it, Clark," Perry growled.

"Um, yes, of course," Clark said.

Perry sighed. "That being said, Clark…your articles are always excellent. I just received your article on _ and it's no exception."

"Ah, thank you, sir!" Clark said, smiling and adjusting his tie self-consciously.

He paused.

"Wait…_?"

"Yes, _. What about it?"

"That's the story I was working on? _?" Clark said.

"Why? Is it not good enough for you?" Perry half-sneered.

Clark blinked.

"Great Caesar's -! Stop standing there with that glazed look on your face and get to work, Kent!" Perry said, screwing up his face.

"O-of course!" Clark said, rushing off. Gee! Wonder what's got him worked up…? he thought, allowing himself to indulge in a moment of huffiness before reverting to his regularly-scheduled mild-manneredness.

Perry White could be harsh sometimes, but he seemed…well, particularly unfriendly this time.

But what bugged him more than that was…something he could barely even describe. While he was talking with Perry and he described the article…he…the words…

I'm going to stir crazy, Clark thought, shaking his head at himself. I just wrote an article, I know that, and I know what I just wrote about. Of course I do!

He had to prove to himself he wasn't going mad. He went back to the desk and pulled up the article.

There, there it is, Clark! You see? he told himself. A perfectly good, perfectly existent article. You're just imagining things.

He was about to turn away when…he looked again.

…Huh?

He blinked.

There it was, the article, before his eyes. It was like any other article he had ever written. In fact, it was…exactly like any other article he had ever written.

The phrases, words, style…everything was just normal. And it was…it was good. It was as good as any other article he'd ever written. In fact, it was a very good example of his work…

But…but what was the story? What were the words? Where was the article?

Clark couldn't describe what it was about! All he could say about it was that it was an article and that he had written it and that it was just like any other article he had ever written and that it was very good.

No, no, no, of course there's a subject matter, of course there's a story. It's an article about _.

_! _, _, _, _, _...why did that sound so wrong?!

Clark pressed his hand against his forehead and tightened his eyes shut, desperately trying to force himself to stop feeling this way, to start making sense of the world.

This just doesn't make sense, it can't be. It's all in your head, Clark, it has to be.

He took some deep breaths and heaved himself out of his chair.

Which, oddly, seemed to take…effort.

He looked down at himself, feeling the same sense of concern over his body he felt earlier.

What the heck, Clark, it's…nothing.

He sighed.

Well, I guess it's just gonna be one of those days…

If this is one of "those days", I don't think I've ever had one of "those days" ever before.

Whatever…shut up.

That's not very mild-mannered of you, now is it?

Good grief! I don't need to be mild-mannered to myself! I already know I'm Superman!

Wait a second…you're Superman?

…Yes. You already knew that…I mean, I already knew that…

Well, I'm Superman too…wait, we are the same person, right?

Of course…this is just an internal monologue…

Of course. Ha ha, how silly of me…

Wait, huh?

Clark blinked.

He was so distracted by his strangely involved thoughts that he tripped.

He slammed hard against the ground.

"OW!" he cried out automatically.

It took a minute to realize the implications of that.

…He had felt pain.

In fact, he was still feeling it.

"Ugh…" he grunted, trying to get up.

"Clark! Are you alright?"

Clark's mood suddenly brightened a hundredfold as soon as he recognized that voice. He was usually happy to see her, of course, but for some reason, he felt especially pleased – and, oddly, sort of relieved. "Lois!" He managed to leap to his feet, but did it so quickly that he fell again. "Oof! Ow!"

"Oh, Clark, you klutz!" Lois said, smiling and helping him up. She sounded…strangely happy to see him, also.

"Wow, Lois! It's so good to see…" Clark blinked.

Lois looked…blurry.

He instinctively righted his glasses, which were rather askew from the fall. To his shock, now he could see clearly.

"Are…are you OK, Clark?"

"I…um…"

Clark was stunned, but he forced himself to set his concerns aside for the duration of the conversation.

He couldn't talk to Lois about…that. Obviously.

"Yeah, o-of course. Are you?" he said.

"Um…yes," Lois said. "But I'm glad you're…here…"

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Well, I'm really, really glad you're safe," Clark blurted. He paused. "Though I…don't know why you wouldn't be…" He fidgeted. He had just blurted out what had been on his…well, heart. His mind had no idea what he was saying, or why he felt that way.

There was another awkward silence. Finally, Lois broke it.

"Are you feeling…the same way I'm feeling today?" she said.

Clark sighed.

"I think…I probably am."

Chapter 3: Jimmy's Weird Mysteries

"Unh…"

Jimmy's eyes slowly began to creak open. Then they fluttered shut again.

Where…where…Clark…Lois…anybody…

…Superman, maybe? Superman would be OK…

Hello?

He couldn't seem to get himself to move, and all his senses seemed a little stopped up. Gradually, though, he felt them reawakening.

But he just felt so tired…

"Dr. Garver, I'm sorry –"

"I thought I told you to call me Professor Hamilton!"

"Y-yeah. You did. Sorry about that."

"Well, it's a moot point. Get on with it."

"We've…we've been doing everything we can, Doc. But we just can't retrieve them. Maybe if we run a few more tests…or maybe, um, a lot more tests…"

"I don't care, Reginald! Whatever it takes!"

"O-of course."

He sighed. "What do we know so far?"

The other one took a deep breath. "Not much. We're having a really hard time picking up any brain patterns that can be recognized as belong to the…um…the other two…subjects."

The…other two…?

Oh, right. Clark and Lois…

Jimmy slowly began to remember what had happened.

Gee…I guess they must be trying to figure out what happened to them…I hope it's not too bad…

"Well, then, what happened? Do you think the donor mental patterns were…destroyed?"

"I – I…don't know. I can't…rule it out. In fact…well, it's looking quite possible at this point."

Jimmy gulped. That didn't sound too good.

"Well…if that's the way it is, that's the way it is." Hamilton took a breath. "We can – we can still work with this."

The other man – Reginald – swallowed. "Now, now, let's – let's not be hasty, right? We don't really – know anything yet."

"Right, right. Do your thing, Reginald."

"I…"

C'mon, Jimmy. You have to find out what's going on! Move! Or something…

Jimmy grunted.

Reginald gasped. "He's waking up, Doc!"

"Oh! Um…oh, dear. Ah…Jimmy! Jimmy Olsen!" The two men rushed over to his bedside.

"Ugh…" Jimmy said, opening his eyes. He tried to lift his head up, but he found that it was being held in place by one of the same metal cap things that had been used in the badly botched demonstration.

"Well, it's good to see you're conscious!" the man who must've been Reginald said. He looked pretty young, probably slightly younger than Clark, but not as young as himself. He wasn't very big, and had slightly dirty blonde hair. He looked and sounded like he was a little nervous right now. Almost like he wasn't actually glad about Jimmy having come to…nah, he was probably projecting that. He wasn't sure if he was happy about having woken up himself, though he didn't really know why.

"Yes, how are you feeling?" Professor Hamilton said.

Jimmy twitched. "I feel…funkier than ever. And…not the good kind of funky."

His voice still sounded a bit like he was drunk or something.

Professor Hamilton took a deep breath. "Well - that's to be expected. See, we've been doing some tests on you to…try to determine what went wrong."

Jimmy gulped. "Any…uh…results?"

"Um…everything is extremely tentative and inconclusive," Reginald said. "But, uh, we are…learning more."

A weight pressed hard on Jimmy's mind.

"Are they…m-my friends, I mean…"

Reginald and Emil glanced at each other.

There was something about that glance that was just horrible.

"They're not…dead, if that's what you were wondering," Reginald said.

"…That's good," Jimmy said. It was slightly comforting…but thanks to the man's tone of voice, not all that comforting.

He decided to venture another question. "Do…you know what exactly happened to them?"

Emil sighed. "As previously stated, our tests are…inconclusive. They seem to be in a coma-like state. We've…we're keeping their condition…stable."

"Well, that's…that's good," Jimmy said.

Everything was still such a surreal blur. He kind of hoped that Superman would show up or something. Maybe he'd have a clue how to help…though, really, Jimmy mostly wanted him around for moral support. He mentally toyed with the idea of using his signal watch, but, well…he wasn't sure. He just would hate to ever use it when he didn't really need to. Superman's trust was a pretty precious thing.

Jimmy sighed to himself. Well, Superman would find out about what had happened soon enough. It would probably be in the papers soon…

Gee, would he be interviewed by his co-workers? That'd be weird. It wouldn't be the first time, but…he still thought it would be weird. Especially…without Clark or Lois around.

He felt like there was something else he ought to say…oh, right.

"Do you have any idea what happened to me?" Jimmy asked.

"Um…oh! Well…" Emil fidgeted nervously. "Well, we…no, not really. We know that…there was a substantial effect on your brain, which might cause frequent migraines in the future. Nothing toomuch more severe than that, we don't think. Just some head pain, but it might be…somewhat intense at times. Other times, however, you'll probably feel fine. Nothing is seriously wrong, we don't think, but we're not exactly sure what happened…we're looking into a way to treat you, but…you can probably go home and continue your life, but we'll have to ask you to check in with us every now again. Is that alright?"

"Uh…I guess," Jimmy said.

"Excellent," Emil said, giving an odd grin for a second, and then returning to a normal expression with surprising speed. "You may leave now."

"Um…I may?" Jimmy said.

"Well, if you're feeling well, that is," Professor Hamilton said.

"I guess I'm feeling…okay," Jimmy said. "I'd feel better if you took this cap thingy off…"

"Of course," Emil said. There was a clicking sound. The apparatus clenched around his head loosened. Jimmy pulled his head away and shook it. He was afraid to get up at first, worrying that he might be disoriented and fall over, but to his surprise, he seemed to be just fine.

"We'll need your number, Jimmy," Reginald said, giving him a pad of paper.

"…Sure," Jimmy said. He quickly jotted it down.

He awkwardly glanced around. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Lois and Clark lying unconscious on two cots next to him. They also had metal caps on, and seemed to be hooked up to some machinery.

He drew his breath in and stared, while simultaneously wanting to look away.

His mind went blank. He just…how was he supposed to react? What was he supposed to think or…do?

He just…couldn't do anything.

"Are they going to be okay?" he blurted, turning to Professor Hamilton, who was fiddling with some more buttons on some machine.

Professor Hamilton glanced at him. "Ah, yes. Yes they are," he said, in a weirdly casual way.

"Good," Jimmy said, in a sort of numb, automatic fashion. "…Can I leave, then?"

"Sure," Reginald said. "I'll escort you."

"Oh…okay," Jimmy said.

He just…what. What was he even saying or doing?

Before Reginald had taken him very far, he remembered. "Um, where's my camera?"

"Your camera? Oh…yes. Uh." Reginald dashed off, but he quickly drew back. "Um…Doc? Where did we put it?"

Professor Hamilton gave Reginald a weird look. It was like it contained just the tiniest hint of a glare, without really being one.

Reginald gulped. "Where did we put it, Professor?"

"Over there," Professor Hamilton said. His voice was odd and stiff in a sort of…harsh way.

Reginald scooped up the camera and handed it to Jimmy.

He looks like he's seen a ghost, Jimmy thought.

"OK, let's get going," Reginald said.

Jimmy almost replied, "Good idea." Because he really wanted to get out of that place fast, for some reason.

He asked himself if it was because seeing Clark and Lois comatose made him feel weird. No, he answered. That wasn't the reason.

Reginald walked Jimmy through halls and stuff…

Jimmy felt as though there was a lot on his mind.

Yet, at the same time, he couldn't think.

Then he suddenly thought of something.

"Um…we arrived here in Mr. Kent's car…" he said.

"Oh…um," Reginald said. "Well…"

It seemed Reggie couldn't think either. Would he mind being called Reggie? Jimmy didn't know and he didn't really care. It didn't seem horribly relevant, really.

"…I'll pay for a cab for you, alright?" the assistant to the professor – whatever he liked to be called –said.

"Uh…good. Thanks," Jimmy said.

They finally emerged from the building.

Soon, Jimmy was in a cab, heading back to the Planet.

He took a deep breath.

His mind was filled with two thoughts.

Mostly it was filled with, This is going to be weird.

"Weird" in the decidedly bad sense of the word.

The way the Daily Planet existed in his mind, Lois and Clark were there. That didn't mean that they were in the building every minute, obviously, but it just meant…they were, you know…there…for him.

If nothing else, they were always…existing…in the world. In a non-comatose state.

Profound, Jimmy, he thought to himself, smirking a little. In a less than joyful way.

The other thought was just lingering in the background. And he couldn't really pay much attention to it, but…it was there.

Was I just imagining things…or did Reggie call Professor Hamilton "Dr. Garver"?

Chapter 4: What Is Going On In This Town?

Lois swallowed the bite of the sandwich she had taken, then looked Clark in the eye.

Well, tried to, anyway. He seemed a little preoccupied with his sandwich.

Lois cleared her throat. Instantly, Clark jumped.

"Uhh…yes, Lois?" he said, setting down his sandwich and leaning forward a bit too far.

Lois sighed slightly, simultaneously feeling mildly amused. That's often how she felt when…well, when Clark did anything, really.

"Well, you know I set up this lunch date to discuss the…odd…things that have been happening."

The way she said it, it sounded like she meant sudden disappearances, ghostly apparitions, or something more dramatic than…things just being vaguely odd in general. But she hoped Clark got what she meant.

She suddenly realized it was a mistake to use the word "date". She didn't want to give him any ideas.

Thankfully, though, Clark didn't seem to pick up on it, at least not in a clearly visible way. He took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean…" he said, his voice trailing off.

Lois sighed. "I feel like a fool, Clark. I can't really put my finger on it, but I can't shake this weird feeling that something has changed. Or everything has."

Clark scratched his ear. "Yeah, you're right." He looked off into the distance. "Like, for one thing…well, don't you think everyone's acting a little…different?"

"Yeah," Lois said, appreciating being given something more concrete to work with than just a vague feeling of wrongness. "Like…have you ran into Steve Lombard today?"

"Thankfully, no," Clark said, taking another bite.

"Well, I did, and you know what? He insulted me to my face!" Lois said. "Can you believe it?"

Clark blinked. "Um…yeah…isn't that kind of what he does?"

"That's what he does to you, Clark, not to me," Lois said. "I mean, he's been known to be rude to me on occasion, sure, but he doesn't flat-out ridicule me. But that's what he did just earlier!"

"W-ell, he doesn't only insult me, but I get what you're saying," Clark said.

"He actually called me a pipsqueak! Seriously, a pipsqueak! Can you believe that?" Lois said.

"Uh, I guess…I mean, um, no," Clark said. "Ha ha, that's what I was…trying to say." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Lois rolled her eyes, remembering why she didn't want to date the man. "Try to focus on the conversation at hand, Clark."

Clark's face whitened for a split second. "Yeah." He gulped. "Of course."

Lois scrutinized her coworker's facial expression. "Is…something wrong?"

He sighed. "I'm alright, Lois, it's just…" He sighed heavily. "I'm not feeling like…myself. Erm, that is - I'm a little…under the weather. Feeling…funny, you know…?"

"Um, I guess," Lois said.

Clark coughed. "It's nothing. I'm alright." He ate another bite of his sandwich.

"O…kay," Lois said.

She was left staring into space for a couple of minutes. There were these annoying moments when Clark Kent was just a conversational wall. It was kind of uncanny.

As if to atone for this crime, Clark attempted to restart the conversation. "So…uh, Lombard called you a pipsqueak, eh? That's…very odd."

"…Yeah, it is," Lois said.

"I mean, you're not even small or anything…I-I mean, um, that's not to say…um, well –"

"Yeah, I get it, Clark," Lois said, rolling her eyes. "Do you have anything useful to say, or are you just going to continue making inane, awkward comments?"

Clark's face suddenly lost color. He sighed. "You're right, Lois. I should just shut up."

He looked down.

His voice wasn't hostile in the least (as per usual). It was…almost sorrowful.

Lois blinked.

"I didn't…I, um…" Lois said.

"It was nice having lunch," Clark said, almost sounding earnest. He got up, gestured the waiter to come and asked for a doggie bag, and stowed the remains of the sandwich inside.

"I'll see you at work, Lois," he said, making a motion with his hand vaguely suggestive of a wave.

He walked off.

"…Bye?" Lois said, giving a slight wave herself.

She sighed.

Clark didn't know why he felt the way he felt, or exactly why he was doing what he was doing…he didn't know why any of this was happening. He couldn't explain any of it, really…

But even if he didn't know the reason, he knew what happened.

Well, he didn't really know what happened to the world.

But he knew what had happened to him.

He really had wanted to talk with Lois about the weird way everything was, but he couldn't talk to Lois about the thing that was bothering him most.

As far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about him.

Nothing at all.

Earlier in the day, between the time of him tripping and feeling pain and going out with Lois to lunch, he had reached under his shirt and felt around.

His fingers felt around for the familiar feel of spandex and the stitches that had sewn on an S shape.

It wasn't there.

Something else wasn't there.

His muscles.

His entire body, it seemed, had been rewritten into a particular image – the very image that he projected to his coworkers every day.

The image of a clumsy, slightly plump, near-sighted, mild-mannered reporter.

Who wasn't Superman.

But then…what of Superman?

His heart raced.

Where was he?

Who was he ?

Clark knew he should try to calm himself down.

His mind contained things that he would normally think were facts, like that there was a logical explanation, and that he could get to the bottom of this.

But somehow, he knew with absolute surety that this…state …was just symptomatic of a much larger condition.

A condition that affected the entire world.

A condition that – maybe – was the entire world.

He sighed. No need to get melodramatic about it, buddy, he thought as he got into his car.

He stopped.

Wait.

Had he thought that?

Wha – sure you did.

Yes, of course.

He still didn't move.

What's that supposed to mean?

What do you mean, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Why are we talking like this? I mean – why are we thinking this way? Or, I mean, why am I?

Beats me. Ask yourself.

I am!

Wait a second. There was something about this situation…

…Where are you?

Where am I? Well…where are you?

I asked first!

There you go again, being non-mild-mannered. Wait a second…why am I worried about me not being mild-mannered? I'm not Clark Kent right now…

Wait…you're not Clark Kent right now?

Uh…I don't…think so.

So…you're Superman.

Yes…? Aren't you…?

No.

Oh.

There was a pause.

So…wait. You're…Clark Kent?

…Yes. Are you…Superman?

Um…y…yes…wait, what's going on?

Clark sighed and rubbed his forehead.

I…um…I should pr-probably get to work right about now…

Uh…that's probably a good idea, but…first could you explain to me what's happening?! Why do I feel like I'm two separate people?

I...

Who…who are you, anyway? You're not…you're not really Clark Kent, are you? I mean, I'm Clark Kent…

Clark sighed to himself. This was getting rather awkward. Especially since he didn't actually know what was happening…

Though he had an idea.

Tell you what, he said to "himself". Erm…where are you right now?

I…I'm just…flying around, really…but I want answers! Who are you?!

I could ask you the same question, Clark thought with exasperation. But – um – let's meet later, OK? So we can…figure out what's going on?

But I have no idea who you are!

Yes, you do! I already told you, I'm Clark Kent!

No, you're not! I am!

Clark felt exhausted, as if his brain couldn't take anymore. He noticed for the first time that he was sweating profusely, and even tearing up a bit.

N-nevermind, OK? I…I have to go...

His hands, still gripped against the steering wheel, were shaking.

He…he couldn't…

Lois was eating unusually slowly.

Had she just…been snubbed by Clark Kent?

No…no, it couldn't be…

But then, what had happened?

Clark was known for suddenly making quick exits, oftentimes for no apparent reason. It was his hobby, seemingly.

But this felt different.

Why should it?

There were plenty of potential explanations. Like, he was sneaking off to cover something…maybe…

No. Something was wrong.

Lois sighed and set her sandwich down. She just didn't care about eating it anymore.

She walked outside and in the general direction of where she had parked. Clark's car was right beside hers.

…Why hadn't he driven off yet?

She approached the car and peered through the window. She gasped. His head was limp against the steering wheel. He looked almost unconscious.

Lois ripped open the still-unlocked door. "Clark! Are you alright?" Barely waiting for a response, she put her hand on his back and shook him.

Clark moaned and blinked open bleary eyes. "L…Lois…?"

"Oh, sheesh! Thank goodness," Lois said. "You almost had me worried."

Actually, he had had her worried.

"Uh…sorry…" Clark straightened himself and stretched his neck and back.

"What the heck, Clark? What, did you get heat stroke? How long have you been sitting out here?"

"Uh…ugh." Clark massaged his forehead. "I'm…I'm fine. I just…" He sighed. "I don't know…"

"Seriously, Clark. Something's wrong," Lois said. "I think you need some rest."

Clark whitened for a second, then sighed. "Maybe," he said, looking off into the distance.

"What?" Lois said.

"What what?"Clark said, looking at her.

Lois blinked.

"I don't know," she said.

She stared at Clark, feeling annoyed.

"You know what? Just…do whatever," Lois said. "If you die or something, don't blame me." She threw up her hands and walked off.

She felt huffy. Sometimes, that Clark…!

She sighed. Honestly, she was worried about him. But what could she do?

She drove off, feeling vaguely regretful underneath her frustration.

Weirdly enough, she wasn't just worried for Clark. She was worried for herself, too. And wondering why just made her more anxious.

Somehow, she felt – she almost knew – that whatever was causing Clark to feel the way he felt was affecting her too.

Was it affecting just the two of them? If so, why? And more importantly, what was it?

These were the sorts of questions she had hoped to have answered by the end of her "date". But maybe it just couldn't work out. She knew that, sometimes, it just took time for the facts to come in.

She just hoped Clark was alright in the meantime.

Chapter 5: Wanting Answers

"It's good to see you again, Jimmy," Perry White said. "I'm…sorry about what happened."

"Yeah," Jimmy said, sighing.

"Do you think you'll be all right?" Perry continued.

"I guess," Jimmy said. "S.T.A.R. Labs would like to have a word with me every once in a while so they can monitor my condition and stuff, but…I guess I'm fine."

Perry took a breath. "And what of Clark and Lois?"

Jimmy was uncomfortably still for a moment. "I don't know," he said.

Perry sighed. "Well, are they going to recover?"

Jimmy's heart stopped for a moment.

"Uh…they don't…really know…what happened."

"So they have no idea when or if they'll be conscious, is that what you're saying?" Perry said.

"…Not really, but um…I think they did say something about them…getting better eventually," Jimmy said.

He felt awkward repeating that. Weirdly enough, he couldn't shake the feeling that they didn't actually know it for sure and it was just said to make him feel better. Which was stupid, of course, right? Would a leading S.T.A.R. scientist ever do that?

"Well, if this isn't just…" Perry said.

He didn't seem to have the words.

He rested his head in his hands.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" he finally said, his voice seeming tired and breathless and…almost despairing.

"Wait, are you asking me?" he said.

Perry sighed heavily. "No, not really…"

Jimmy had to admit it was a bit weird to look in his boss's eyes and see them betraying…well, emotion. Even…some weakness. He never really thought of the Chief in this light; in fact, while he knew well enough to not express his opinion, he often found him annoying and overly harsh. Which may not be completely fair, but it's still how he felt.

It had been a while since he had seen Mr. White as, well…human.

"Well, Jimmy…what happened at S.T.A.R. Labs may involve people we know, but it's also a major story. Would it bother you to cover it?" Perry said.

Jimmy felt a bit surprised "You're asking me?"

"Yes, I do believe I'm asking you," the Chief continued, reverting to a bit of his usual gruffness.

"Um…" Jimmy hesitated. "Actually, I…I sort of would…want to."

Perry cocked an eyebrow.

"I…I want to find out what happened to them," he said.

He knew it would be painful, probably. He almost hated to say it. But he couldn't imagine another option.

A look of surprise touched the Chief's face. "Well, that's certainly thinking like a journalist. I see you've been taught well." His mouth twitched with a somewhat awkward half-smile, which Jimmy unconsciously reciprocated. "I'll send you with Ron Troupe, alright?"

Jimmy wasn't too thrilled about this. Troupe was, seemingly, a pretty great guy. He had won tons of rewards for his articles, he invested himself in volunteering, activism, and all sorts of great stuff…and he also tended to act like Jimmy didn't exist. It wasn't like he was blatantly condescending, like Steve Lombard sometimes was. He just didn't seem to notice him.

Probably because, in spite of (or perhaps because of) all his positive qualities, he had a bit of an arrogant streak. It was sort of a quiet arrogance, but definitely still there.

Having been called, Troupe soon walked into Perry's office.

"Hey, Jimmy," he said, his voice subtly sad. "How are you doing?"

Jimmy was caught off-guard by this. "Um…I…I'm doing okay."

"Your headaches doing any better?" he asked with concern.

"I…sort of…" Jimmy replied. "Th-they haven't been bothering me just lately, anyway. I mean – I feel alright."

"That's good," Ron said with a slight smile. He sighed. "I know this is hard. It's…hard for me, too. I guess maybe that should motivate us, right?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said.

"C'mon, let's get going," Ron said. "I'll drive you."

"Thanks."

It was…weird.

Maybe he had misjudged Ron pretty badly. He felt a twinge of shame.

They were both quiet on the ride there.

"Huh? Are you mumbling something, Jimmy?" Ron said.

"What? I don't think so," Jimmy said, confused. "I…?"

But I have no idea who you are!

Yes, you do! I already told you, I'm Clark Kent!

No, you're not! I am!

"Wh-what? Clark?!"

Jimmy's brain fell into a swampy haze, and then was repeatedly slapped through by someone with hands made out of lightning.

"Ack…h…help…"

…

"Jimmy! Jimmy, are you alright?"

"Y…yes," Jimmy said, surprising himself by that fact. "I just…ugh. Had another headache."

"Should I drive you home?" Ron said.

"N…no, actually. I mean, S.T.A.R. Labs wants to check up on my condition…"

"Are you sure you feel fine?" Ron said.

"Yeah. It…faded pretty fast."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah, I am, really."

Fine physically, anyway.

He didn't want to say anything, but he feared he was going insane.

Deep down, he was more afraid he wasn't going insane. That…he had actually heard Clark Kent's voice in his head.

He gulped. That was stupid, right? Clark was on a hospital bed in S.T.A.R. Labs, unconscious.

Unless maybe he wasn't unconscious, and he was trying to mentally reach out to Jimmy using a mysterious telepathic link that had been created by the malfunctioning of the thought transfer device.

That would be…well, kinda cool, but still creepy.

"We're here, Jimmy," Ron said.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "Alright."

Time to report on my best friends being in comas. How fun.

Superman sat on a cloud, feeling confused and gloomy.

Since when can I even sit on clouds? he wondered, but he had more important things to brood about. He was still trying to figure out what on earth was going on with the surreal mental conversation he had had with himself earlier.

It was weird. The voice sounded like his own voice, the thoughts and the feelings bore the genetic makeup of his own mind, so to speak – it was, well, himself he was talking to.

He wanted to tell himself that that was all there was to it, but he couldn't make himself believe that. Even though it was the most logical explanation, it wasn't true. He just knew that.

That one moment just kept haunting him.

So…wait. You're…Clark Kent?

…Yes. Are you…Superman?

He shook his head.

Why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel as though he was talking to someone else when he said that, and that someone else was talking to him?

It was like he was talking to Clark Kent…and that Clark was talking to Superman?

Come on! That doesn't even make sense, he harshly scolded himself. YOU are Clark Kent, AND Superman. Either you were just thinking to yourself, or you were…telepathically connected to someone who, for some reason, self-identifies as Clark Kent and thinks similarly to you, but is evidently not you.

Superman blinked as the epiphany came upon him. Am I in an alternate universe? That would make sense….in fact, I probably should've thought of that earlier.

Maybe the alternate version of himself in this world was a telepath.

It didn't exactly explain why his cape was totally devoid of pouches, but considering that he didn't really know all that much about different realities, he supposed there could probably be a lot of possible side-effects of interdimensional travel that he knew nothing about.

Superman frowned. Hmm. I feel like I'm missing something.

But his theory was a reasonable start, at least. Maybe if he met his counterpart and learned more about this world, he'd have an easier time figuring out what had happened.

Satisfied, he hoisted himself up off of the cloud. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he found this "other him", assuming that he was a reporter in this dimension also. If he kept doing noteworthy deeds, he supposed odds were they'd run across each other.

Not very proactive, but it was workable. Superman wasn't feeling too high on initiative today, anyway. Life seemed like a blur, like he was being swept along with the tide…like he didn't even really know what he was doing.

He…he could hardly even keep track of what had happened today so far. He knew he had saved some people…from…various things…

He shook his head. He must be woozy from the interdimensional travel. Though, how had he traveled to this alternate world at all? If it even was an alternate world…

Sheesh, get it together, Clark, he scolded himself. Clark, as in, Superman…not the other Clark who's apparently a telepath…though he's probably also Superman, himself…whatever, you get what I mean.

He sighed.

Clark found himself writing up another article.

What was he even reporting on? He didn't know.

He felt too exhausted to worry about reality crashing apart, or whatever was happening. He just let himself go through the motions, feel the joy of writing…

Even if, at the end of the day, what he had written was…not technically…anything.

But he just couldn't worry about it anymore. His brain felt fried. He could only let it do what it was naturally inclined to do. And even in his stressed state, he still seemed capable of writing well. Funny.

"Hi, Clark!"

"Huh?" Clark looked up. It was Ron Troupe. "Oh, hi Ron!" he said, feeling overly cheery about the fact that he was noticing him this time around. He was feeling rather pathetic and insecure today, honestly. Probably due to the fact that he was no longer Superman.

"Hey, are you doing okay, Clark?" Ron said.

"Uh…sure. Yeah, I'm doing fine," Clark said, realizing as he spoke that his voice was the higher-pitched voice he always used when he wasn't being Superman, even though he wasn't modulating it to be that way…just like the plumpness, the near-sightedness, and everything else.

He felt vaguely embarrassed even to just hear his own voice. Objectively speaking, it wasn't like there was any cause of shame in it at all. It wasn't squeaky or anything, just a little higher. It had never even slightly bothered him to use this voice under normal circumstances. But now that he was constrained to use it…it made him feel weak, and, well…wrong.

"I'm sorry if I sort of brushed you off earlier," Ron said. "I was just really involved in what I was writing – I didn't mean to, you know, be rude."

"Oh-oh, it's alright, don't worry about it," Clark said. "No big deal, everything's good." He tried to smile.

"Ah, good. If there's anything I can help you with, let me know. Alright?"

"Um – sure. Thank you," Clark said. Ron smiled and walked off.

Hm, Clark thought. That was quite a turnaround, Ron. Good job.

He blinked. That was a weird way to put it. At least he wasn't a big enough dork to have said it aloud…though he wouldn't put it past himself…

Oh, come on. No need to throw yourself a pity party, he said. You might not have your powers, but you're still…well, a good reporter, right? Just focus on that.

He continued writing.

Soon, just like that, the article was completed. He sighed contentedly. It was, again, a very good example of his work.

If you ignored the fact that it somehow miraculously lacked any content. Which he did, as hard as he could.

Another thing that was hard to ignore was the fact that moving took so much effort.

As he was walking toward the Chief's desk, however, he passed Jimmy Olsen.

"Hi, Jim!" Clark said, instantly brightening upon seeing his friend.

"Hey, Clark!" Jimmy said, seeming to reciprocate the emotions totally.

But as Clark continued to look at his friend, the mild-mannered reporter felt a strange sense of shock. There was something about Jimmy that…seemed different. Looked different, almost.

Maybe it shouldn't have been so startling. After all, everyone seemed a little "off" today. But it was more than that, he thought. Something…big…

"Uh…are you OK?" Jimmy asked.

Clark blinked, realizing he had been staring at Jimmy. But for whatever reason, it was hard not to.

"Y-yeah, I'm OK, sorry," Clark said. "Heh." He scratched his hair. "Um…I was just going to turn something in to the Chief…"

"Cool. I was going to talk to him about my next assignment," Jimmy said.

"Nice. I hope you get something good," Clark said. The two began walking together toward Perry's desk.

"Ah, Kent! Just the person I'd been wanting to see," Perry said, seeming a lot cheerier than he had earlier that day. Lois was standing there too.

"I've just been informed of an incident involving Superman saving the day," Perry said. "And I would like you three to report on it."

Clark's breath caught in his throat.

Well, here we go, he told himself. You'll be alright, Clark. Relax.

"Um…" Lois started.

"What?" Perry asked.

"…How exactly is Superman saving the day? And where?"

"What are you talking about, Lois? I've given you all the information you need to start reporting!" Perry said, seemingly slightly more flustered than angry.

Lois cleared her throat. "Yes…of course."

"Well, what are you waiting for, guys? Let's go!" Jimmy said cheerfully.

"Alright," Clark said, a slight trace of Jimmy's good mood rubbing off on him. "I'll drive us there."

As he walked down the stairs, he tried not to think about what would happen when he met Superman. Though maybe he should. Better to feel awkward now than later.

Would Superman…recognize him? That is…recognize that he was also Superman? Or at least used to be…

Based on the "conversation" they had had earlier, he…well, he wasn't sure. It could seemingly go either way.

Clark sighed mentally, realizing that, specifically, had been the cause of his apprehension. If Superman didn't believe him…believe him saying that he had been Superman…then, well, what right did he have to believe it?

Oh well, Clark. What happens, happens, he thought.

Chapter 6: Lonely Company

Well, here I am, Clark thought as he pulled up to the place where Superman was. He didn't know how he had known where to go, but that was the least of his concerns anyway.

He hesitantly opened the car door and got out. His co-workers followed suit. Clark took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"Are you OK?" he heard Lois say. He turned to look at her. Though she seemed to be slightly trying to hide it, Clark could tell she was genuinely concerned, which kind of made him happy.

"Uh, sure. Fine," Clark said, giving a smile.

"It's hardly the first time you've interviewed Superman," Lois said with a half-smirk. "But I guess it is the first time we're doing it together. Intimidated?"

"By what?" Clark said, feeling another flash of anxiety.

"By Superman and me together, obviously," she said.

Clark chuckled awkwardly.

"Hey, he's over there!" Jimmy said, pointing.

"Great work, Jimmy," Clark said cheerfully. He didn't know why, he just felt like saying it. Jimmy's presence just cheered him up more than almost anything right now. Somehow, this seemed weird. Why would that be weird? They were best friends.

But there was something about Jimmy…he seemed so, so vibrant. So…life-like.

How can something that's actually IN real life be "life-like", Clark? You aren't making sense. He shook his head at himself.

Distracted by his thoughts once again, Clark hadn't realized that his feet had been walking toward Superman while he was thinking. And that now he was looking at Superman face-to-face.

Clark felt a shock run through him, then an inundation of cold.

Superman stared at Clark, blinked, and took a deep breath.

Clark stared at Superman, blinked, and took a deep breath.

"So, Superman…" Lois started.

"Hm?" Superman and Clark both turned to look at Lois.

Clark couldn't believe he had done something so stupid, but somehow, Lois didn't seem to notice. Either that, or it was so incomprehensible to her that her mind just ignored it.

"Uh…" Lois rubbed the back of her neck with a pen and glanced around awkwardly. "Superman, why are we the only ones here? And where…are we, anyway?"

"Ummm…" Superman bit his lip.

Clark suddenly realized that he was biting his lip too. He quickly stopped.

Lois stared at the two. "Are you guys…OK?"

"YES!" they both shouted, almost in unison.

Without making a conscious decision to do so, Clark and Superman looked at each other. They were both ticked off at each other for both choosing that same particular time to make that exclamation, and yet there was still an undercurrent of mutual sympathy.

...How do I know what Superman is thinking? Clark asked himself, turning away. He took another deep breath. He then sang a few rounds of Hallelujah choruses in his soul that Superman had not chosen to take a deep breath at the same time.

"Uh…" Jimmy looked around at the various people. "…Why is everything awkward? Why is no one asking any questions?"

"Right, of course!" Superman said, straightening up.

The reporters looked at each other.

"Um, y-you know we're supposed to be the ones asking the questions, right?" Lois said.

"Oh." Superman's face went white.

Clark couldn't help but feel relieved that Superman felt as awkward as he did, but at the same time felt his embarrassment. He also felt, probably by force of habit, like this behavior might be risking his secret identity somehow, although…really, that probably wasn't possible given the circumstances.

Lois cleared her throat. "Say, Superman…have you, by any chance, been feeling a little…odd today?"

Superman scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "Yeah, Lois. I…I pretty much have."

Lois took a deep breath. "Okay then. In that case…well, Clark and I will probably have more to talk about with you then just what we need for the paper. But, well, speaking of which – how did you save the day?"

Superman sighed. "I don't know. I just saved the day. It could've been a plane crash, it could've been a fire, it could've been a criminal, it could've been a supervillain…I don't – I don't even know anymore." He sighed again. "It's like life has just all rolled together. Like…events aren't distinct things anymore."

"Yeah," Clark said, without thinking much about it. Superman looked at him with some surprise, and Clark realized what he'd just done, but he decided to bravely press through the awkwardness of talking to, well, himself. "I mean…L-Lois and I, we've been experiencing the same thing. With…our articles."

Everyone looked at Jimmy.

"G-gee," Jimmy said. "I don't…life just sorta seems normal to me. I mean, this is just…sorta the way things normally are. Just, you know…normal life?" He shrugged.

"Then maybe what's affecting us isn't affecting everyone…I guess," Clark said.

"But…but that doesn't make sense," Lois said. "This…whatever is affecting us is…external. It affects the world around us."

Clark noticed that Superman was playing with his hands a bit, as if even more awkward. Clark guessed that that he instinctively wanted to jump to his defense, but didn't actually have anything to say.

"Well, uh…" Superman finally began. "Is there anything specific you two have noticed that's odd?"

Clark took a deep breath, causing Superman to look at him. The reporter desperately wished he could speak to Superman alone. He let out something like a sigh. "No, nothing. Nothing to…talk about," he said, purposefully glancing around awkwardly to make it obvious he was lying. He hoped Superman would get the message.

The Man of Steel cocked his head and looked at Clark with a vaguely concerned look, which Clark optimistically took as signifying he understood. Of course, even if this was so, there was the question of how to arrange such a thing without seeming extremely odd.

Clark noticed that, less fortunately, Lois was giving him a similar look, only a bit less concerned and a bit more suspicious. Clark felt a certain amount of anxiety over this, but really, it wasn't any worse than anything he had felt earlier that day.

…Day. Day.

This was all happening over the course of a single day, right?

Clark took a deep breath.

"I-I thought of something," he said. "Does anyone remember how today started? I mean…I-I kinda remember all this, 'feeling weird' stuff starting just…somewhere in the middle of the day."

Lois and Superman glanced at each other.

"I don't remember how this day started," Superman said. "Do you?"

"No, not really…" Lois said.

Everyone looked at Jimmy.

"Uhh…gee." Jimmy looked awkward. "You don't remember? Today started just like any other day, right? I mean…at least, that's how it started for me." He shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

Clark felt a little concerned that Jimmy might be feeling left out, but he didn't exactly know how to help.

Jimmy clicked his pen nervously. He was a lot better at photography than any kind of, you know, text journalism…he wondered if Ron would end up doing most of the talking and writing.

Well, it was easier to think about mundane concerns like this than the possibility of what might have happened to his friends.

Or the one thing that was maybe bothering him even more than that. The fact that he felt like…things might not be what they seemed.

"Well, let's go, Jimmy," Ron said, pushing open the doors to the S.T.A.R. Labs room where Prof. Hamilton and Reginald were working on Lois and Clark. Jimmy gulped.

"Ah! Hello Jimmy, Ron!" Prof. Hamilton said, his voice filled with a fake warmth that made Jimmy's skin crawl. Something about the Professor's behavior lately just seemed sorta wrong, but he didn't know the Professor well enough to really define it specifically.

"So, Jimmy" - the Professor leaned in a lot closer than the cub reporter would've preferred - "how have you been feeling?"

"Umm...okay?" Jimmy said, backing off just a bit. "At times, they get better, but they haven't really gone away..." he said vaguely.

I'm not going to tell him about hearing Clark's voice in my head. No way, was all Jimmy was sure of.

Ron cleared his throat to get the Professor's attention, which he got. "So, Professor," Ron said, "what can you tell us about the condition of Clark Kent and Lois Lane?"

Hamilton took a breath. "Actually…well…" He cleared his own throat. "What would really be most helpful right now is if we could run some more tests on Jimmy."

Jimmy wasn't sure if he should be happy or feel trepidation. He settled on "trepidation", despite the fact that this could, theoretically, be the path to helping his friends.

"Pr-Professor?" Reginald said, his voice somewhere between concern and panic. "Are you sure?"

The Professor sighed. "Yes, Reggie, I'm sure. The tests are completely safe, rest assured. Now, why don't you step outside and give Ron an interview while I conduct these tests?"

"Um, will do," Reginald said, taking Ron outside.

Jimmy gulped. Being alone wasn't really what he wanted right now.

He glanced down at the inanimate Clark and Lois, still on their cots.

He sighed. Well, in a way, I'm not alone…but not in a good way.

"So, Jimmy," the Professor said. He paused. "You seem a little nervous."

"Do I?" Jimmy said, sweating.

"There's no need, really. These tests can do nothing but help – both you and your friends."

"Uh…right."

"Nothing bad happened the first time, did it?"

"Nooo…"

"Alright then." Hamilton smiled in a way that almost seemed genuine, but didn't quite cross into "comforting" terrirtory. "Just lay down here…"

Jimmy took one last glance at his comatose friends before doing so.

Please, guys, just…

He didn't know exactly what he was thinking.

…Please help me.

What did that even mean?

Just before the metal cap lowered onto his head, something like despair began setting in.

C'mon, Clark...

Could I maybe hear your voice in my head now?

The helmet clamped on.

And then there was darkness...soothing...

...sleep.

Deep...sleep...

Chapter 7: Dreamsville

Clark sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I...I guess what we need to do is...try to get some specifics nailed down. Like, when was the first time you noticed any...an...annnny..."

Clark suddenly shook his head vigorously. "Ugh! What...what's happening?"

Wait...did he actually say that, or just think it, or...

"Clark! Clark, we're...we're moving!"

It was Lois' voice. And she was right.

"Aaahh!" Clark yelled involuntarily as currents of...currents of something seemed to swirl about him, and then seemed to push him upward...then downward...then somewhere else...

He should've been getting sick right now, considering his de-Supermanification, but he wasn't.

"S-Superman! What's going on?!" he yelled desperately, not even knowing why, exactly.

"H-how should I know?!" Superman said. But Clark couldn't see him. It was like...he couldn't see anything. Everything around him was changing. The surroundings - what were their surroundings, anyway? Clark didn't think he knew to begin with. And yet it was like they had just been ripped apart, dissolved, and carried away in a current of...whatever it was that was affecting him, Lois and Superman.

Everything - everything was moving. Collapsing. Dissolving. The very fabric of reality was being ripped apart and shifted around. Yet for some reason, Clark wasn't panicked - even though, by all accounts, he should've been.

Somehow, he didn't feel like he was in danger. He couldn't see Lois or Superman, but he wasn't worried about them. Somehow, he felt like he was...in the hands of someone he trusted.

...Jimmy. Jimmy Olsen.

Clark could still see Jimmy Olsen, or...something. He wasn't really seeing him, exactly, but somehow, he was just there. He was...he was all around him.

Okaaayyyy...this is just weird, Clark thought. And yet...it was comforting, somehow.

Clark could tell now that anything vaguely resembling the physical had disappeared. Lois, Superman, his own body...it was all gone.

Clark blinked. Or at least, he thought about blinking.

Why...why does this seem so familiar?

He felt something...he felt...

Lois! Lois! There you are!

Clark! Clark, it's good to see...you...

Why do I get the feeling this has happened before? Lois said.

That's...that's just what I was thinking, Clark said.

Clark felt like he and Lois were being carried somewhere, to some new place...but so far, he wasn't as freaked out as he thought he should be. So far it was pretty relaxing...

Suddenly, Clark felt as though he was being pressed through a sieve. Ak...! Lois...!

No, he - he lost her -

Whaa - ?!

Clark was suddenly surrounded by...by...random stuff. There was no other way to describe it.

He saw a stegosaurus, a large boy yanking some string cheese from the hands of a redheaded kid, Clifford the Big Red Dog, a bunch of people he'd never seen before, a bunch of people he had seen before...

But the weirdest part of all was that, while all this was going on, he felt he was re-experiencing several scenes from his life. Simultaneously.

There was the first time he met Jimmy, the first time he ate lunch with Jimmy, the first time he covered a story with Jimmy, the first time he gave Jimmy a birthday gift...

Picking up a bit of a theme here, Clark thought.

The events just kept coming, and all of them involved, well, Jimmy. And they kept getting more and more recent. There was that time they got hamburgers and Jimmy's had moldy cheese on it, that Halloween they dressed up as Batman and Robin, that time last month when they played Yahtzee together and ate a delicious corn-flake casserole…

Then…there was…him walking into a metal booth…metal headgear clamping itself around him…and then…th-then…

Something like blackness enveloped Clark, and simultaneously, he felt that he was moving somewhere else again.

Suddenly, he felt something. L…Lois?

Clark! Oh, thank goodness…now where are we…

I…I don't…knowwww…

Clark found himself bursting through a door, Lois by his side. Immediately, Jimmy turned to look at them from his desk where he was sitting.

"Clark? Lois? You're…you're okay!" He leaped out of his chair and excitedly ran to meet them, smiling broadly.

"Ha ha, I-I guess so, Jimmy," Clark said, hugging his pal.

Professor Hamilton walked in. "They suddenly woke up from their comas! I…I don't know how to explain it, but they're completely alright!"

We were in comas…? Clark thought. Ah, just roll with it, he quickly told himself. He didn't know why; it seemed like a strange thing to think, and yet it's what came to mind.

"Oh, man! Wow! It's so good to see you guys!" Jimmy said, hugging Lois next. Lois smiled at Jimmy, but then gave Clark a "what-the-heck-is-going-on" look.

Clark just shrugged.

"Pr-Professor!" Reginald said excitedly. "I think it's working! Look at the monitors!"

"Oh?" Hamilton looked over at a screen on one of the machines hooked up to Jimmy. A slightly unsettling grin crept across his face. "Ah, yes. It does look promising."

"Do you think we can get them out of there? Now?" Reginald asked.

Hamilton rubbed his hands together. "It's worth a try."

Chapter 8: On the Cusp of Discovery

Clark and Lois! Okay! Jimmy was thrilled. So thrilled, he didn't even care about the suspicious stuff that was happening. They were back!

Clark scratched his head. "Well, yeah, I guess we're…back. I'm not exactly sure where we were before…I mean, we were comatose, of course, so I guess we wouldn't know." He chuckled to himself awkwardly.

"So, h-how are you? Are you, like, feeling completely okay?" Jimmy said.

"Uh, sure," Lois said. She seemed rather confused. Maybe that shouldn't be a surprise, considering she was recently comatose. "I…think…argh!"

Jimmy's heart dropped forty stories instantly. "Lois…? Are you…"

Before he could even finish his thought, he saw Clark clutching his head and groaning.

"No! It can't be! Wh-what's wrong? Where's…where's Professor Hamilton?" Jimmy shouted desperately and pathetically.

Suddenly, Jimmy felt his own head explode with pain. He tried to clutch his head, he tried to close his eyes, but everything was, in one instant, swallowed up in nothingness. He was alone…alone…

No! They were there! Clark and Lois…they were right there with him! But they…they were going away…leaving…disappearing…

No…please…don't go! Jimmy pleaded. I need you guys. I…I…I don't know what to do! I…I have to know you're alright! Please!

Maybe it was too late. They…they were being dragged away. They were being taken from him. Even over the course of this happening, he felt their closeness. As completely weird as it sounded, it was almost as if they were one with him…that the three of them were sharing the same pain. But as the pain intensified, his friends began to fade away.

No…no…no! I…I need you! he begged pathetically. Clark…? Lois…?

Jimmy?

Lois?! I-is that you?

Y…yes…I-I have no idea what's happening, but…

Lois! Yes! Don't…don't go away! I-I'll keep you here!

Um…okay…I'll…try to stay, I guess.

Jimmy?! Are you there?

Clark?! Clark, you're okay too! Please, please stay! Please!

Erm…I-I will, Jimmy, if I can. But…do you have any idea what's going on?

Not really…I just… Jimmy took a breath. Am I…am I dreaming?

Clark sighed. Maybe, Jim. Maybe this whole thing is a dream.

Um...what exactly is "this whole thing"? Jimmy asked.

Well, you know…everything in the world being so weird, and not feeling…well…real? Clark said.

Jimmy blinked.

Do you have any idea what we're talking about, Jimmy? Lois said.

Not…exactly? Jimmy said. I mean, you guys have been comatose since the demonstration…right?

Comatose? Well, um…not as far as I know. Unless…can you dream when you're comatose? I don't think you can, Clark said.

What demonstration? Lois said.

Jimmy blinked again. Wait, you guys are actually…conscious? I guess that might help explain your voice in my head, Clark…maybe…

My voice in your head?

Y…yeah…

Suddenly, Jimmy blinked his eyes open.

All the blackness had disappeared. He was lying on a cot. He felt a metal cap clamped around his head. Clark and Lois were nowhere to be seen.

Well…he glanced to the side. They were still on the cots next to him. In a way…

Professor Hamilton and Reginald were standing over him. Hamilton let out an angry sort of sigh. "We came so close…" He then seemed to realize Jimmy had just woken up. "Oh!" He cleared his throat. "Jimmy, how do you feel?"

"F…fine?" was all the cub reporter could say. "Where's…where's Ron?"

"Oh, Ron! Um…Mr. Troupe interviewed us, and then left," the Professor said. "Reginald will drive you back to work, Jimmy."

The helmet released its hold on Jimmy's head. The photojournalist pulled it out, sat up, and rubbed it.

"O…k-kay?" Jimmy said. "But…did you find out anything about my condition? Or my friends'…?"

Emil sighed gruffly and cleared his throat. "Nothing conclusive, I'm afraid. But…it was a step in the right direction. Here's your camera. You can head off now." He made a shooing motion with his hand.

It was all Jimmy could do to keep himself from sneering back. He restrained himself. If there was anything he had learned from the millions of times he and Lois had gotten in to trouble and needed Superman's rescue, it was that sometimes he should take a page from Clark's book and exercise a bit of caution. It was no wonder, Jimmy thought, that Clark never seemed to be around when Superman rescued them – he didn't get into sticky situations nearly as often.

Jimmy quietly received the camera and shuffled off. Reginald followed him, not even saying a word.

The photojournalist took one last glance at his friends' unconscious – supposedly unconscious – bodies.

The dream he was having mere moment ago was already beginning to fade a bit, but he knew one thing. They were in it.

They were really in it.

Clark found himself typing up an article about Superman saving the day.

He had a feeling that there was something more important going on. Something he should be worrying about. Something…

He shook his head. It was probably just a dream or…something.

He had better focus on what made sense: Writing articles. He was good at that.

Another thing I'm good at, Clark thought, is being cautious.

He wasn't exactly sure why he thought that, though.

Chapter 9: Communication Situation

"Oh, man." Reginald sighed and rubbed his head. "We were so close…" He paced around the lab anxiously.

Professor Hamilton was quiet. "We weren't close enough," he finally sneered.

"What…what went wrong?" Reginald half-whimpered, half-shouted.

The Professor was quiet again for a minute.

"What went wrong is that we weren't aggressive enough," he said with an air of definitiveness.

"But, but, Professor – we can't!" Reginald protested desperately. "I mean…you know, those mental patterns could be delicate and –"

"I don't care!" the professor shouted. "All that matters is that Kent and Lane are awake and talking. Whatever it takes to achieve that goal is worth it."

Reginald swallowed. "But…if…their behavior changes -"

"It will take them weeks to find out, if not more. You know the public's attention span. They'll have long forgotten about our little mishap by then."

"I…I'm not so sure about that, Doc-" Reginald said.

"I'm not Doctor Garver!" the professor shouted. "I am Professor Emil Hamilton. I'm no shady, Parasite-possessing maniac defeated by Superman. I'm widely respected. They won't doubt me! They believe I'm innocent! They want to believe I'm innocent!"

Reginald swallowed. "Okay – I – I understand."

The professor sighed, seeming to calm down a little. "Don't forget why we're here, friend," he said quietly. "This is the technology that will revolutionize everything. This is the technology that the military will pay any amount of money for. And when we make history, no one will care about the things that happened along the way. No one will remember."

"If…if you say so," Reginald replied.

"I do," the Professor said. "When Jimmy comes back here, nothing will stop us. Nothing."

Jimmy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Aside from what happened with Professor Hamilton and Reginald and…well…Clark and Lois, it had been a relatively uneventful day. But what had happened in S.T.A.R. Labs eclipsed everything in his mind.

Clark and Lois are alive and conscious. Somehow. And they…were talking to me. And from what Clark said…they've been conscious since the demonstration…all this time…but how?

Is Professor Hamilton aware of this or…was he lying? And even if he was…what happened to them?

There was so much to think about, but Jimmy's brain couldn't take it all. Those headaches…they kept coming back. Nothing the Professor was doing helped them at all, really.

The more Jimmy thought about it, the more he realized that they didn't really feel like any headaches he had ever experienced before, but he was at a loss as to how to describe them.

What…happened…to me? And is there some connection between whatever happened to Clark and Lois?

…Ugh. My head hurts. It just hurts more the more I think about these things, Jimmy thought to himself. If only Clark or Lois were here to help me sort this out…or maybe Superman. Haven't seen him in a while…

He paused.

Where are Lois and Clark, anyway? I mean…that's a dumb question, I know where they are...lying on those cots in the lab, but…while I was dreaming, it was like…they were in my head.

Jimmy suddenly sat up.

Wait…they were "in my head"…and I've been having headaches…what if…they were "in my head" the whole time? What if…they're actually the cause of my headaches? Could…could it be?

Jimmy shook his head. It sounded so crazy, but…the entire point of the experiment was to transfer thoughts…what if, somehow, it ended up not just transferring thoughts, but…consciousness?

Jimmy took a deep breath. Wait a second. Does that mean…if I go to sleep right now…I can…actually talk to them?

Whoa. That's a crazy thought.

Jimmy got up from his bed and paced around his apartment briefly, even though his headaches made him kinda want to lie down again.

Gee…I already had dinner. I guess there's nothing stopping me from just…getting ready for bed and…well, sleeping. Right now. I mean…I guess, come to think of it, there's not much else I really want to do.

Jimmy was riding in the Daily Planet elevator, ready to begin the day's work. He was cramped, surrounded by a couple of people he was vaguely familiar with and a couple others he didn't know from Adam, but for some reason, he had a good feeling…a feeling that somehow, some way, Clark and Lois would be okay.

Wait, maybe that's not such a strange feeling, he thought to himself. I mean…didn't I figure out last night that they were alive, and conscious, and in my head…w-wait…

Ding! The elevator stopped. Being somewhat lost in thought, Jimmy was almost squished as the people behind him made their way out, but in a few seconds he was on his way to the meeting being held by the Chief that morning.

Wait…I'd planned on trying to see if I could communicate with Clark and Lois while I was dreaming, right? But I don't remember that happening…did I just…forget my dream or something? And completely forget about what I had been trying to do this morning, too?

Ugh! Jimmy couldn't believe himself. He desperately wished that wasn't the case, but…what other option was there?

Sighing, Jimmy gathered with the other reporters. But to his shock, the Chief wasn't there. Instead, there was a man who looked really familiar.

Jimmy gasped. Oh my gosh…it's David! David Schoell!

Though he tried, Jimmy had never been able to erase the childhood memories he had of David – from the first time David stole his string cheese to the time he revealed that Jimmy still slept with a stuffed stegosaurus every night. Thankfully, he also couldn't forget the feeling of pleasure he felt when David and his family moved - until now, that is.

"Hey, what's up, Daily Planet?" David said, his words and intonation extremely reminiscent of his nine-year-old self. And aside from being even bigger and taller, he had apparently barely changed in appearance over more than a decade. "I'm your new Editor-in-Chief, and I'm planning on mixing things up a bit. But first of all" – he pointed directly at Jimmy – "I'd like you to get me coffee. Extra cream, please."

Jimmy swallowed and quietly, but quickly shuffled away. As he filled a cup full of coffee, he couldn't help but think to himself, How could this be happening? How could I have not known until now the Chief was being replaced? And what the heck are the odds that…that David Schoell could become my boss?!

Freakily enough, he actually remembered having a dream like this before, years ago. It was long before coming to the Daily Planet, back when he worked for Round th' Clock Pizza. It was pretty much the same exact thing – his boss being replaced by David Schoell for seemingly no reason.

He made his way back to David and gave him the coffee. "Thanks, Slim Jim," David said. "Whoops!" He splashed a bit of the hot coffee on Jimmy, causing him to yelp in pain. "Didn't mean to do that," David said. He smiled to himself. Many of the other reports chuckled. Jimmy's cheeks burned intensely, and he tried to quietly slink into the background.

"Well, enough fun and games - time to get to work." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, then began walking around the crowd of reporters and pointing to various people. "Flynn and Taylor, get ready to cover the mayor's speech. Hammett and Troupe, get on the school controversy. The rest of you guys, get on the whole 'Daily Planet reporters rendered comatose by mad scientist' thing, except for you, Olsen." He smiled down at Jimmy, towering over him. "I want you to stick around here, 'kay? You never know when I might need something."

Jimmy groaned.

The other reporters quickly got on their various tasks, while Jimmy just stood there.

"First job, Jim: It's the janitor's day off, so clean the bathrooms. Try not to get any poop on yourself, bud."

Jimmy sighed and silently slunk off.

Jimmy miserably swirled a scrub brush around the bowl of a toilet. How can this be happening? he asked himself. This is just like a bad dream…

He paused.

Wait a…second, he thought to himself. Maybe this is a dream. That would make perfect sense. I didn't forget about trying to talk to Lois and Clark in a dream, I'm having that dream right now!

Jimmy's mood brightened for the first time that day…Well, technically, I guess it's night since I'm sleeping…

Something occurred to Jimmy that re-dampened his mood: It may be a dream, but Lois and Clark are still in comas, if "the Chief's" assignment to the bulk of the staff is any indication…but, on the other hand, if Lois and Clark are really in my head, they aren't really comatose, so…I should still be able to talk to them somehow, right?

Jimmy scratched his head. If this is a dream, nothing I'm experiencing is real. It's all in my head…maybe I can just sort of make things be the way I want them to. I mean, now that I know I'm dreaming I should be able to change what I'm dreaming …right?

Realizing there was no point in obeying an imaginary boss, he sat down his supplies, opened the stall door, and walked out, only to bump right into a large man.

"Oof! Excuse me – wait, is that you, Jimmy?" said a familiar voice.

"C-Clark?!" Jimmy said as he looked up.

Well, I didn't expect it to be that easy.

Chapter 10: Together Again

Clark chuckled. "H-hi, Jimmy," he said nervously. "Uh, sorry, I guess I didn't realize you were here. Now, uh, if you'll excuse me…"

He would've asked what Jimmy was doing – was he cleaning the toilet? Why? – but, well, he had to go. He walked into the next stall.

"Wait! Uh – Clark!" Jimmy said, sounding strangely urgent.

"Hm?"

"Clark, you, uh – y-you don't actually have to go to the bathroom."

Clark looked over his shoulder gave Jimmy as weirded-out of a look as you might expect such a statement to elicit. But suddenly, Clark…felt as though he didn't need to go anymore. Well, that's…awfully strange. He turned to face Jimmy completely.

Jimmy swallowed. "You see, Clark…a-actually, the only reason you're here is because, well, um, I wanted you to be."

"…Huh?" Clark said, completely baffled.

Jimmy sighed. "Er, well, I didn't want you to go to the bathroom, I just wanted you to be where I was, which is…in the bathroom." He chuckled lightly.

Clark blinked repeatedly at Jimmy, hoping to convey his total lack of understanding. What, is Jimmy saying he has the power to magically summon people now?

Jimmy sighed again. "In fact…just forget about the bathroom, okay?"

Out of nowhere, in the wink of an eye, the bathroom…literally disappeared. Clark and Jimmy were standing on…nothing. They were surrounded by nothing but blackness.

Clark gave Jimmy a look of sheer horror. "J-Jimmy?! H-how?" he managed to stammer. "Are you…are you doing…th-this?"

In his life, he had encountered a huge variety of strange phenomena and powerful beings, even done battle with them…but…but this? And Jimmy, of all the people? Since when had his best friend been a reality-warping god?

"Look, Clark," Jimmy said, "I…I know this might seem creepy, but, uh…actually…I mean…th-this isn't real life."

Clark blinked.

"Ya see…um…this is actually a dream. That I'm having," Jimmy said.

"…What?" Clark said. "How…what am I doing in your dream?"

Jimmy sighed and sat down cross-legged on the blackness. "That's…that's the thing. I know it sounds crazy, but…as far as I can tell, you're…in my mind. Stuck in my mind, in fact. I…think you might have been here for a while, actually."

"Oh. Um, okay," Clark said. What Jimmy had said didn't really make any more sense than anything else that was happening, but for once, Clark tried not to betray his total lack of comprehension. Cautiously, he imitated Jimmy and sat down as well. "So, um…h-how…did I get stuck here?" he asked. He decided it was best to assume that everything that was happening was, in fact, really what it seemed to be.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "I'll tell you in a minute, Clark, but first, um, let me try to get Lois over here too."

Clark was startled. "Wait – you're saying she's stuck in your head too?"

"Uh, I think so. Yeah. In fact – hey! There she is right now!" Jimmy said excitedly as Lois Lane materialized before their very eyes.

Lois looked around the empty blackness. "Wh-where am I?!" she stammered. "Clark – Jimmy – wh-what?!"

"Um, maybe this empty void is a little too creepy," Jimmy said. "Let's go…somewhere else."

Suddenly, they appeared at a table in Metropolis' Pizzarro, a pizza restaurant that was named after Bizarro for publicity and really no other reason.

Lois stared at Jimmy, mouth agape. "W…what just happened?" she stammered. "Why…?"

"Err, just the power of lucid dreaming! Heh heh," Jimmy said awkwardly. "Let's just get some pizza and I'll, um, try to tell you guys what's happening…well, as best as I know, anyway."

A huge pepperoni pizza suddenly appeared on the table, no waiter required.

"Oh, um…is that too creepy?" Jimmy said as Lois looked disturbed.

"Just tell me what the heck is going on!" Lois said, obviously extremely flustered.

Jimmy swallowed. "Um, right. Well, ya see…um…I-I was explaining to Clark here, that I think you guys are, well…trapped in my mind. If that makes sense."

"It…doesn't," Lois said, "but it makes slightly more sense than…this being real, I guess."

Jimmy took a deep breath. Meanwhile, Clark helped himself to a slice of pizza. Lois rolled her eyes at him.

"What?" Clark said as he swallowed his first bite. "It's what it's here for."

"Aaaaanyway," Lois said, "how did we get 'trapped in your mind'?"

"W-well," Jimmy said, slowly putting a piece of pizza on his plate, "do you guys remember that experiment Professor Hamilton did? The…thought transfer device?"

Lois blinked.

"I'm…not sure," she said, her words slow and measured, which was rather unusual for her. She turned to Clark. "Do you?"

"Um…" Clark scratched his head. "Er…when…did this happen?"

"Just a few days ago, actually," Jimmy replied. He took a bite of pizza. "Hmmm…could use a few olives." They instantly appeared on his slice.

"Mmmm! Could I have some too, Jimmy?" Clark said.

"Sure!" his pal replied happily, causing them to appear on Clark's piece.

"Guys!" Lois said, irritated.

"Err, sorry, Lois," Jimmy said demurely. "It's just –" He sighed. "It's not exactly a happy memory. And – well – I kind of wish this was just real. That this was just…us, eating at a pizza parlor. Everything, well, normal."

Clark looked at Lois, concerned. As confusing as everything was, as much as he had no idea what had happened, he knew that whatever it was hard for Jimmy. From the look on her face, Lois felt exactly the same way Clark did.

"Jimmy, I – I have no idea what happened, what's happening, but…well, we're here for you, now, and we'll figure it out, somehow," Lois said. She reached out and held Jimmy's hand "Now, can you try to, well…tell us what happened?"

Jimmy smiled a little. "Sure."

Chapter 11: The Investigation Begins?

Jimmy sighed, but for once the sigh was mixed with a little bit of pleasure and contentment. Clark and Lois may not have been…completely okay, considering they were apparently trapped inside his brain. But they were alive, and conscious, and well…they were here.

"Well, y'see, Professor Hamilton…he had created this special device that was supposed to transfer thoughts, and as a demonstration, he tried to get you two to transfer a thought to me using it. Well, it worked…but you guys kinda wound up unconscious, as least as far as anyone could tell."

Though honestly, Jimmy wasn't really convinced that Professor Hamilton couldn't tell.

"Really?" Clark said. He adjusted his glasses. "Um…can't say I remember any of that, really."

"I guess I can't really, either," Lois said with a sigh. "Though if something went wrong with the machine, I guess it's not that surprising that it could've made our memory foggy or something." There was a short lull in the conversation; no one really knew where to go from there.

To break the silence, Clark added, "Out of curiosity, what thought were we supposed to send?"

"Well, you were both supposed to send the same one…and it was actually just one word. 'Science'," Jimmy explained.

Clark's and Lois' eyes suddenly widened almost simultaneously. For a brief moment, it was like they were deeply entranced by something, but not anything that was going on around them - like they were both going through some sort of flashback. Then they looked at each other.

"…Science," Clark said, his voice barely above a whisper and strangely intense. "That…word…" He placed his fingers on his forehead. His emotion seemed to be some sort of combination of confusion, realization and…well, something like reverent awe, as strange as that might sound.

"Science, that word…" Lois said, seeming to be going through similarly intense emotions. "I..I remember something. It's like…that word, 'science'…it…it started this whole thing."

Clark and Lois looked at each other again. Then they looked at Jimmy.

In that moment, Jimmy somehow knew that…they understood. They remembered – or at least, were in the process of remembering. They knew something that not even Jimmy really knew: they were remembering the very process of being transferred into Jimmy's mind by that machine.

It was pretty crazy to think about, really. To think about the fact that, apparently, while trying to transfer just one thought – one single word – Clark and Lois had transferred…themselves. All of themselves. Into Jimmy's head.

No wonder I've been having headaches…Jimmy thought.

Clark took a breath. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. "I think…I'm beginning to remember, Jimmy. Remember…what happened to us." He sighed slightly and leaned his forehead on his hand.

"Y-yeah. Me too, Clark." Lois placed her hand on Clark's back for a minute. Slowly, she realized what she had done and drew it away, just a tiny bit awkwardly.

"W-well…that's good," Jimmy said. "Um…"

It was so weird, Jimmy thought. Despite the weird things they were talking about, this all felt so normal, so real. Despite the fact that it was the very thing they were discussing, it was somehow kind of easy to forget what the circumstances actually were.

But nonetheless, he had to soldier ahead, even if it meant acknowledging that things weren't as they seemed. That they weren't the way he wished they were.

"Well, guys…" He sighed and took a bite of his pizza. "I guess I know for sure what's going on, now."

"Yeah," Clark said. "I guess we do, too."

Lois sighed. Slowly, she took a piece of pepperoni pizza and put it on her plate.

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, huh, Lois?" Clark said.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm hungry, okay?"

"Can a being of pure thought really be hungry?" Clark asked.

"For a pizza of pure thought? Sure," Jimmy said.

"I guess you could call that…" - Clark snapped his fingers and pointed at Jimmy - "…food for thought."

"Ayyyyyy! Good one, CK!" Jimmy said.

Lois rolled her eyes again and groaned loudly. Clark grinned and started munching on his pizza more intentionally. Jimmy followed suit.

After taking a few more bites, Lois placed her elbows on the table, folded her hands together, and set her chin on them. "I guess it is kind of nice to just…sit here, eating. And try not to think about the fact that two of our minds have been displaced from their bodies and placed into the brain of the other person, causing him to have serious migraines."

Clark started. "Wait – what's this about migraines?"

Lois blinked. "Um…wait…did I just say that us being in Jimmy's brain is causing him to have migraines?"

"Um…yeah," Clark said.

"I…I guess I did, didn't I? I…don't know how I knew that," Lois said.

"Is it true?" Clark asked Jimmy.

"Um…well…" Jimmy scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. I've…I've had some…kind-of bad pains in my head ever since the demonstration."

"Oh…I'm…I'm very sorry, Jimmy," Clark said meekly.

"Um…well…haha, i-it's not your fault, of course," Jimmy said.

"I know. I…I just feel bad. Knowing that – well – I'm causing you pain. Even if it's not on purpose." Clark looked down.

Lois took a deep breath. "Well, that's all the more reason to figure out how to get out of Jimmy's subconscious and back into our own heads. Which brings me to the most pressing question we have to ask: Why? Why did a machine supposedly designed to transfer thoughts end up transferring entire minds?"

"Um…I kinda assumed it was just an accident," Clark said. "Just a machine not doing what it was supposed to do?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "So much for 'reporter's instinct', Smallville. Transferring consciousness is infinitely harder than just transferring thoughts. You're telling me that a machine could perform what some people would call a literal miracle on accident?"

"Err, s-sorry! It was just my first assumption," Clark clarified. "Weird stuff like that does happen sometimes, you know. I heard a rumor that the Flash got his powers through some random thunderstorm and a mixture of chemicals."

"Really? I heard it was from him inhaling…hard water vapors or something," Jimmy said, scratching his head.

"Look, Clark, I'm willing to accept that nothing's impossible now that we know we live in a world in which Superman exists, but that doesn't mean our first impulse should be leaping to the least likely option," Lois said.

Clark frowned. "I guess you're right."

Jimmy was quiet for a minute. "Honestly…I…I don't really trust Professor Hamilton. I mean – well – I know he's an ally of Superman and all that. But…well, I've been examined by him multiple times since I first started getting these headaches, and…I don't know, something about the things he says and does and just his…general behavior makes me feel kind of, well, suspicious." He sighed. "I know that's not very specific, but…I don't know! I just can't shake the feeling."

Clark rubbed his hands, looking kind of dejected. "Well…I guess it would make sense if something was afoot," he admitted. "But even if the machine can transfer consciousness, that doesn't mean that's what the Professor was intending to do when he used it on us. I mean…maybe it can do both or something. I mean, unless you can think of a reason Professor Hamilton would want to transfer our minds into Jimmy's brain, maybe we can assume that the machine transferring minds in the first place was intentional, but doing it in that instance wasn't."

"Well…mayyyyybe," Lois said. "Seems like a horrifically sloppy mistake for an extremely knowledgeable scientist to make, but at least it's more likely than your first proposal."

"Well, I can tell you one thing: If Professor Hamilton knows what happened to you guys, he doesn't want me or anyone else to know," Jimmy said.

"Well, that would certainly make sense, if Clark's theory is right," Lois said. "He wouldn't want anyone to know the real capabilities of his 'thought transfer device'."

Clark seemed a bit agitated. Finally, he spoke up. "Well, I guess this all makes sense, guys, but…do you really think Professor Hamilton would do something like this? Lie to us and everybody about this project? I-I mean, well…it's not like I know him very well myself, but like Jimmy said…he is an ally of Superman, and I guess…I guess I just don't want to think he's not trustworthy."

"Look, Clark, none of us want to assume anything but the best about one of Superman's friends," Lois said. "But I mean – don't you think it's possible that even Superman doesn't know everything about him? I mean, he gives Superman a hand with technology every once in a while – that doesn't necessarily mean Superman knows him well enough to know that…well…he isn't hiding anything."

Clark became downcast.

"Don't get me wrong - it's not like I don't trust Superman, of course. But I mean, it's not like he can run a thorough background check on everyone he gets assistance from. And even if he could…sometimes there are just things you don't realize about a person, no matter how smart or perceptive you are."

Clark looked at Lois, then looked down again. "Well, you…you have a point." He sighed and rested his head on his hand.

Jimmy felt kind of bad for Clark. He knew that Clark always liked to assume the best of people as much as he reasonably could, and while he didn't always express it that emphatically, he had a very deep trust of and admiration for Superman – perhaps, Jimmy couldn't help but sometimes think, one that ran even deeper than his or Lois'.

"Well, I definitely don't know a lot about Professor Hamilton myself, or why he's acting this way, or what his motives really are, but…I do know one thing. We'll get to the bottom of this, and we'll do it together," Jimmy said confidently. He smiled.

Clark and Lois smiled back at him.

…

Beebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeep!

"Huh…? Wh-what?"

Jimmy's heavy eyes slowly blinked open. He rolled over onto his other side until he was face to face with the alarm clock.

"Great…" he groaned groggily.

Clark, Lois, the pizza place, the conversation...it was gone.

Chapter 12: Two Steps Back

Ugh, just what I need! Jimmy thought, rubbing his head. Not being able to talk to Lois or Clark anymore…

Yeah, I know! It feels like we were finally getting somewhere, too…

Jimmy jolted. L…Lois? Is that you?

Wh…? Uh…yeah, I guess it is.

Well, that's convenient! Jimmy thought at her.

I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that this is possible, he thought – more to himself this time. After all, I did hear Clark's voice in my head earlier, before I even knew what was going on.

Lois "took a breath". Well, now that I realize what's happening…this…this is different. Jimmy, I…I think I can see through your eyes.

Y-yeah. Me too, Clark said.

Whoa. Wild, Jimmy thought. I guess this makes it easier for you to help me get to the bottom of what's happening! Jimmy jumped out of bed with a sense of enthusiasm he hadn't felt since Lois and Clark had become victims of the machine.

His happiness was suddenly interrupted by a cutting, throbbing pain in his head.

"OW! Ow-w…" Jimmy staggered to the ground.

Jimmy! Clark shouted out. For a second, the word seemed to make the headache sting even more.

Jimmy simply lay on the floor for a minute. "Ooh…ugh…" He pushed himself up and rubbed his head; the pain was beginning to let up.

…Jimmy? Clark's voice was incredibly quiet and mousy, like he wasn't really sure if he wanted to be heard.

"I-I'm fine, Clark, really," Jimmy said, thoughtlessly saying the words out loud despite not needing to. He got to his feet. "I get these pains a lot lately, but uh…I'm dealing with it, I guess. All the more reason to get you guys back in your own heads, right?" He tried to seem cheerful.

Jimmy could feel Clark's continued concern and guilt in his own head. It was kind of a strange sensation – it was sort of like being able to look at Clark's face and see the emotion on his face, except, well, the feeling was just there, inside his own mind, almost as though it was his own emotion, except somehow just barely removed enough that he could tell it wasn't.

"Let's, uh…let's just worry about trying to find out the answers, alright?" Jimmy continued. He felt bad that Clark felt so guilty and worried about him.

Er…Jimmy? Have you tried contacting Superman yet? Lois asked. I mean, I'm not sure what exactly he'd do, but it seems like he'd be able to help somehow.

Jimmy suddenly felt a burst of intense, fearful anxiety, so much that he felt a small rush of heat go through his body – but he could tell that the emotion didn't belong to him, but to Clark.

Apparently, Lois noticed it too. Uhh…something wrong, Clark? she said, her concern mixed with confusion and bemusement.

No! Clark blurted, but Jimmy could almost feel he was lying – not that he needed to, since Clark's continuing nervousness was still very evident.

"Uh, Clark?" Jimmy said. "What's the deal? Uh…do you…know something about Superman we don't, or something?"

No! I…I… Suddenly, Clark seemed to be…disappearing. Almost as though he was…running away.

Clark! Where are you going?! Lois shouted. But it was too late; by the time the words left her mouth (well, so to speak), he was already gone.

"C-Clark? Where…where are you?" Jimmy said, a bit stunned by what had just happened.

Lois was quiet for a second. He's…he's gone, she said, as if the fact had just sunk in.

"Wh…but that makes no sense! He's in my brain! Where could he have gone? And…and why?" Jimmy said, so flustered and confused he was almost indignant – though he could feel worry creeping in too.

I…I don't know, Jimmy, Lois said. He's just…not here.

Jimmy was quiet for a moment, not sure how to react or how to respond. He almost felt like how he did when looking at Clark's unconscious body. He felt a sigh deep within him.

L-listen, Jimmy, he couldn't have gone far! Lois said. I mean – like you said – he's trapped in your brain.

"Y-yeah, but why?" Jimmy said. "You just mention contacting Superman and suddenly he gets so scared he 'runs away', however that' s even possible. Why?"

Well, it's not like Clark Kent getting scared and running away is something surprising, Lois said gruffly.

"Lois…" Jimmy groaned in a decidedly annoyed way.

Sorry, Jimmy. Lois sighed. I just…I just don't know what to say. That Clark…argh! I just don't understand him sometimes.

Jimmy blinked.

What? Lois said.

"Nothing…it's just, uh…it feels like you're being a bit more critical of Clark than normal."

Not really. I just dial it down a bit when I'm around you, Lois said.

Jimmy blinked again. This time, Lois did too…or at least it felt like she did.

"You're just being kind of…uh, candid," Jimmy said.

Y-yeah, I guess I am, Lois said, seeming to see what Jimmy was referring to. I'm not really…trying to.

"Well, maybe it's because it's you're in my brain – it's harder to hide your thoughts, and all that," Jimmy suggested.

I guess that would make sense, Lois said. Hmmm…do you think that might be able to explain why Clark "ran away" too? Like, maybe he had some sort of secret…that had something to do with Superman, I guess? I mean, it doesn't make a lot of sense, but…well, what else could it be?

"Maybe. I don't know, Lois. I really don't know," Jimmy said with a sigh.

There was a pause.

Um…come to think of it, you never did say if you managed to contact Superman, Lois said.

Jimmy sighed again. "I used my signal watch, but…he just didn't show up. Come to think of it, I don't think Superman has shown up anywhere in the past few days."

Really? Not at all? Lois said.

"I don't think so," Jimmy said.

That's…kinda weird, Lois said. Well, maybe you should double-check that, Jimmy. Heck, maybe you can even convince the chief to give you that as an assignment or something.

"Yeah…oh, snap! I'd better get ready for work, and stat!" Jimmy said. He jumped up and started removing his pajamas.

Lois began to feel uncomfortable.

Jimmy stopped in the middle of pulling off his pants. "Oh, uh…yeah, I guess this is kinda…awkward…"

D-don't worry about me, Jimmy. Seriously, Lois said. You have to get ready and…do what you have to do. I mean, there's no way around it. So just don't…worry about me, or anything.

"Um, alright," Jimmy said. I'll already be worrying enough about Clark, anyway…

Chapter 13: Worry

Clark didn't really understand what he had done, much less how he did it. He didn't even know if it would actually help or if it would make things worse.

All he knew was that feeling of being exposed.

Before he could even form any conscious thoughts, he knew he was in trouble. Lois had asked Jimmy if he had contacted Superman. The answer would probably be "Yes". Then the next question to be answered was if he had succeeded, and the answer would be "No". Then the question would be "Why".

And before he could even think these thoughts explicitly, Clark knew that the moment that question was asked, his head would be filled with the answer. The problem was, he didn't have his head at the moment. He only had Jimmy's head.

And he didn't want Jimmy's head to be filled with the answer.

Where could he run? He couldn't go anywhere. But somehow he did.

He had no idea where he was headed. He had no idea how he could be headed anywhere. But he just had to run away.

And now, here he was.

It was a dark place. It was thick darkness that was impossible to see through. It was tangible darkness, a dense substance that seemed to press around him relatively gently, but also quite closely. It was something like soaking wet woolen blankets draped all around him.

Somehow, he felt that the substance surrounding him was chunks and pieces of different things held together by a some kind of dark goo, and that these things were quite complex and intricate and would have been fascinating if he was able to, well, see them.

He could also tell that everything around him was very much Jimmy's. He could feel Jimmy in every single piece of…whatever it was that was surrounding him. He couldn't really see anything, but he could nonetheless tell that everything encapsulating him smacked of Jimmy.

It didn't exactly feel like a safe place. He could tell he was actually extremely deep in the very place he wanted to escape from – Jimmy's mind. But for some reason, Clark suspected that it was a little safer than being "out in the open", wherever that was, and that was as good as he could hope for, really.

Clark sighed and sat down, settling himself into his surroundings.

What do I do?

He put his head in his hands.

It was hopeless. He couldn't escape. He couldn't get out of Jimmy's mind. And he knew that, as long as he was here, he couldn't be sure that the truth wouldn't slip out from the corner of Jimmy's brain that he was occupying at the moment and spread out to the rest of it.

It hadn't happened yet, but somehow, he knew it was always a possibility. He just did. He expected the only reason it hadn't "gotten out" yet was because he hadn't actively been thinking of it very much, and for a lot of the time he was tucked away in a place in a place in Jimmy's mind that was apparently far away from his conscious thought, and he suspected that he was in such a place now.

This was as safe as he could be. But was it perfectly safe? Definitely not. And he strongly suspected that, now that Jimmy knew he was here, he was less safe than he was before.

More importantly, he couldn't stay tucked away in this dark corner of Jimmy's mind. He had to get out. He and Lois and Jimmy had to find a way to get everyone back into their respective heads. He needed to help them. And here he was, probably making them waste their precious time wondering where the heck he had gone.

What was he going to do? Stay here and wait until they found a solution? What if they didn't? What if they did but he didn't even know it and ended up stuck here forever?

It would be insane to stay here.

But his secret identity was in danger.

What was he supposed to do?

Oh, cripes. I'm late. Great, Jimmy thought as he walked straight into the middle of a gathering of Daily Planet reporters that the Chief was talking to.

But to his surprise, Perry neither ignored nor snapped at him, and most of the reporters turned to look at Jimmy. "Finally, Olsen, you're here!" Perry said, sounding more relieved than angry.

He took a breath. "Jimmy, we were just discussing what happened to Clark and Lois…and the fact that the only lead we have is, well, what happened to you, and the fact that your appointments with Professor Hamilton could lead us to more information."

Jimmy's face went white and he swallowed. They were probably right, of course. He should probably be eager to try to get to the bottom of what was happening.

But he couldn't deny he was, well, afraid of Professor Hamilton. Heck, he was even more afraid now that he knew Lois and Clark were in his head. What if…what if Professor Hamilton ended up…doing something to them?

Oh, Jimmy… Lois said. She sighed. Don't worry about us.

Why not? Jimmy whined in reply. We have no idea what Professor Hamilton's going to do. And anyway, you…you can't speak for Clark. Jimmy shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Do you know when your next appointment is, Jimmy?" a senior reporter next to Jimmy asked him, cutting through his (and Lois') thoughts.

"Uhmmm…" Jimmy said. He pulled a pocket calendar out of his pocket and flipped through it. "I don't think we scheduled – "

Just then, Jimmy heard some steps coming towards him. As he glanced toward the direction they were coming from, his eyeballs exploded out of their sockets. "Professor Hamilton?!"

Emil smiled in that strange and off-putting way he always did – or at least, for as long as Jimmy had been meeting with him. "I hope this isn't a bad time!"

Chapter 14: Worry

Jimmy felt himself turning white as Prof. Hamilton walked towards him.

"Well, Jimmy? Are you ready for your appointment?" he said, his subtly creepy smile intensifying. "I noticed you missed your last one inexplicably, so…I just wanted to check on you."

Jimmy gulped. "Uh…y-yeah…sorry 'bout that…"

"I can drive you to the lab right now if you like," the Professor said.

Perry cleared his throat. "We were, erm…in the middle of a meeting, Professor. That being said, given the circumstances, I'd be happy for Jimmy to go with you, of course."

Jimmy wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. "I…I'd be happy to go. I just need to, uh…gather my thoughts first."

Prof. Hamilton raised an eyebrow. "Gather…your thoughts?"

"Erm, y-yeah. Just…give me a minute." Jimmy headed straight for the bathroom.

Steve Lombard smirked. "That's not what I call 'gathering my thoughts'."

J…Jimmy? Lois said in surprise. Where are we going!?

She hoped Jimmy wasn't actually going to use the restroom. His morning was traumatizing enough for her…

I'm not actually going to the bathroom! Jimmy half-snapped. I just have to talk with you for a while, he said as he ensconced himself in a stall.

Oh. Um…right. Of course, Lois said.

Jimmy gave an angry sigh mentally. What am I gonna do, Lois? Professor Hamilton is right here…I can't just refuse to go with him…

Lois was thoughtful for a moment. Well…why do you want to refuse to go with him?

Jimmy was taken aback. Huh? Well…you know. I have a bad feeling about him. I mean, we discussed this before, and you agreed with me, right? dozLike…maybe he doesn't want people to know that the "thought transfer device" ...you know, did what it did, Jimmy said.

Well, yeah, but if that's the case, he probably wants to get Clark and I back in our bodies so no one ever knows we were transferred to yours, right? Lois said. So…he's probably the ticket to what we're trying to accomplish.

Jimmy was stunned for just a moment. Uh…I guess. I mean, yeah, I…I guess that's what he's trying to do, but… Jimmy sighed. But I don't trust him! Who knows what he could do to you guys – or me – in the process?! And what happens if he suspects that we might know what's going on? Then, we really don't know what he'll do with us.

I know, Jimmy. Lois sighed. I'm not trying to get you to change your mind, necessarily. I'm just trying to point out that…well. You know. I don't really know what Prof. Hamilton's deal is, or what he's trying to do. But regardless of any of that, I wouldn't be too surprised if he was the only way to…solve our problem.

Jimmy gulped. Y…yeah. I-I guess you're right.

Jimmy felt a bit disturbed. Something about it felt so out of character for Lois. She was always the one to not let anything get in her way, or accept compromises, or believe there were things she couldn't do. And here she was, pointing out that the only way they could possibly restore their own lives back to normal was to go to the person who had messed them up to begin with. That just wasn't Lois.

Lois sighed and said nothing for a moment, as though she were at a loss for what to say. Finally, she said, Well, Jimmy…what do you think we should do?

The question almost caused Jimmy to jolt. Y…you're asking me?

Well, how would I know what to do? Lois said. I don't even know as much about the situation as you.

For a moment, Jimmy was stunned into silence. I…I guess.

Thinking about it, it made sense. But to Jimmy, Lois was someone would always have some kind of solution, or at least, some way to struggle through the process of finding one. Someone he could always turn to.

Her and Clark.

Jimmy sighed and slumped over in the stall.

There was silence in his head for a moment.

So…what are we going to do? Lois' voice almost sounded like a whisper.

Jimmy didn't know if he could remember a time hearing Lois sound anything like she did now.

I…I… Jimmy started. He truly didn't know what to say. Where's Clark? his mind suddenly blurted.

I don't know, Jimmy. I don't know, Lois said.

Jimmy took a breath. Don't you think we should find him?

Um…sure… Lois said. But how does that apply to our current situation?

Oh…I don't know…maybe we should talk to him first before we do anything, Jimmy said.

Yeah, maybe, but we have no idea how to find him and we need to decide what to say to Prof. Hamilton pretty quickly, Lois said.

Oh…OK… Jimmy sighed deeply.

Jimmy… Lois said in a comforting tone, as though she was laying her hand on Jimmy's shoulder. We'll figure something out.

I'm fine, it's just…I…I guess I expected you and Clark to be able to…you know…help me.

Lois seemed a little taken aback.

I-I didn't mean it like that. It's just…I can usually depend on you guys to always be there for me. To have my back when I'm in a tight spot. And now I…guess I have to help you, somehow.

Lois was quiet.

I guess you do…to some extent. But…it's not about just one person helping the other. It's about…you know…working together. Neither person is going to have all the answers…heck, in this situation, I don't feel like anyone has any of the answers. She gave a partial laugh.

Partial because it was all too true.