An Odd Place to Find Oneself

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.