An Odd Place to Find Oneself

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."