The Becoming
Chapter 1 - Diagnosis
Your son is very sick...
She just knew those words would pass the doctor's lips.
In a very real way she knew it already.
He was her son, after all, and this was something a mother could sense. The day of the accident she'd felt it. He was 20 miles away when it happened, but she remembered the panic and pain that had shot through her system, ripping her from sleep and leaving her panting in her bed. Her husband had rolled over, grunting his displeasure at the disturbance.
"What is it?" he mumbled.
"Its Chad!"
All the terror she felt were in those two words and it must have registered because he was awake immediately.
They got on the phone, trying to reach their son and his girlfriend. Chad and Nicole had spent the weekend at a friend's cabin in the next county. Out by Birnam wood, on Lake Sol. They were supposed to be driving back that night; they'd phoned ahead to say they'd be in very late and not to wait up for them.
Something must have happened.
-----
That was three months ago.
Now they were in a different kind of hospital to the one Chad and Nicole were rushed to the night of the accident.
She hated hospitals. Despised them. They stunk of despair.
Even so, she had to admit this place wasn't half bad - for a hospital.
Encantadora Lodge was a quaint, rustic building set on a massive acreage in the woodlands bordering the Colorado Rockies. The grounds were well kept and beautiful. Rolling green lawns under the eternal sentinels of the Rockies.
It was small for an institution, admitting no more than 40 patients at a time, with a staff compliment 20 of highly qualified caregivers on rotation. The place was idyllic, and the Head of Staff, Dr. James Bryce, was one of the most highly respected clinical psychologists in the country. Maybe even the world.
It was the best place for Chad.
They paused at the reception desk in the grandly appointed lobby, where a pretty nurse greeted them with a warm smile.
"Mr. and Mrs. Karlysle, Dr. Bryce is expecting you," she gestured at two comfortable armchairs, "Please, have a seat, the doctor won't be a minute."
They thanked the nurse and sat down. Maggie Karlysle fidgeted in her seat, fingering the pages of a magazine on a side table. She couldn't control her anxiety. The doctor had sounded worried when he called them in this morning, to "Have a chat about Chad."
What did that mean, if anything? Was she reading too much into his tone? Would her only son be okay?
These were the questions that raged through her mind as she sat and waited. Her husband, Jack, was a lot more calm. He sat, quite still, staring out the window at the garden. Maggie continued to fidget, smoothing out the miniscule wrinkles on her skirt, and rearranging the magazines in front of her in alphabetical order. Finally, just when Jack was about to tell her to sit still, a door opened to the side of the reception desk and Dr. Bryce stepped out into the lobby.
He was young, probably in his early thirties. Remarkable for a man of his stature. Slim, wavy sandy hair, and green eyes hidden behind trendy gold wire-frame glasses. He also greeted the Karlysle's with a smile, and shook Jack's hand.
"Thank you for coming," his voice was deeper than expected, a low burr that rumbled, "Please, follow me into my office."
He stepped back and held open the door. Maggie and Jack filed in, Dr. Bryce following and closing the door behind them. He indicated a plush couch in the centre of the office that served as a conversation area, and reclined himself in a leather easy chair.
He folded his leg over his knee and regarded them with a serious expression. Maggie's heart started ramming against her ribcage. The doctor didn't seem particularly distressed, but he did have a hint of worry about him. She pursed her lips into a thin line, and waited for him to talk.
"Your son is very sick."
Maggie winced at the words, fighting back tears that started to form in her eyes, and forced herself to listen to the doctor.
"The accident he suffered caused a massive amount of brain trauma, though the hemorrhaging was slight and has already faded. But the psychological trauma is another matter entirely," his words were crisp and to the point, he obviously shot from the hip, "Chad is experiencing a severe case of PTS, Post Traumatic Stress, possibly because he feels accountable for the accident."
"But it wasn't his fault," Maggie interrupted, "They were hit by a drunk driver, and his girlfriend wasn't hurt. Only Chad was injured."
"I know Mrs. Karlysle," Dr. Bryce kept his tone calm, "And Chad knows this too. But psychological trauma is rarely logical. For a reason he probably couldn't voice himself he does feel guilty. He feels he could've done more. This is my assessment after spending many hours talking to Chad over the last month. Most of the time, he's quite normal. It's obvious he's highly intelligent, and a quite a linguist as well."
"He got a scholarship to study writing at NYU," Maggie volunteered, feeling the familiar flush of pride at her son's achievement.
"He's always wanted to be a writer," Jack explained, "He's been scribbling since he could walk."
Dr. Bryce favoured them with an indulgent smile. Parents were all the same.
"I know. He's told me," he said, "The point is, most of the time, Chad is the same bright young man he always was. He's quite popular around here, actually. All the patients like him. They try to spend as much time with him as possible, and I must say Chad has been great with that. Considering that by all accounts he's more normal than anyone else we have here. And I think more than a few of the nurses are a little in love with him. He's quite charming."
"But..." Maggie prompted.
"But, he's been having episodes," said Dr. Bryce, his expression growing grave, "Periods where he's not himself. In fact, it's quite serious. Mr. and Mrs. Karlysle, in my professional opinion, I'm going to have to diagnose Chad with MPD."
Jack's eyes widened in shock, "Multiple Personality Disorder?"
"Precisely. Chad has two personalities. The Chad personality is still dominant. As I said, most of the time he's normal. But there are periods when the other personality takes over; the longest thus far has been several hours. And once that personality recedes, Chad has no memory of what he was doing when he was... the other one."
"Is there anything we can do?"
"We can continue to medicate him, there are a number of prescriptive drugs that have proved effectual for cases like Chad's. Until then we'd like to keep him here, where he's safe. It's a serious situation. Chad, as his other personality, could be a danger to himself."
Now Maggie Karlysle's tears did come. Freely. Her boy, in danger?No!
"This other personality," Jack began, "Who is it?"
Dr. Bryce took a few moments before answering.
"I understand your son's a fan of the TV show, Smallville?"
Jack frowned, "Yes, its his favourite show. He writes stories about it and posts them on the Internet."
"Well, I'm afraid that's the root of the problem."
"How do you mean?"
"Mr. Karlysle, Chad's trauma has forced him to take sanctuary in his fantasies. And Smallville is apparently a big part of that fantasy world. He believes he's one of the characters," he paused, and leaned forward, still serious, "Chad believes that he's Clark Kent.He thinks he's Superman.
Chapter 2 - Symptoms
Chad Karlysle was enjoying the sunshine.
He sat on a wooden bench set on the bank of the gentle brook that ran east to west across the hospital grounds. He'd taken off his shoes and let his feet dangle in the slow running water, enjoying the feel of the mud between his toes.
This bench was his spot. Here, flanked by willow trees on either side, he could sit and contemplate his altered life in peace.
He studied his reflection on the surface of the water. Tousled dark hair that seemed possessed of a life of it's own. Brooding hazel eyes beneath thick brows, and a strong, firm jaw. Chad knew he looked about as normal as any other teenager.
But he wasn't.
Chad didn't really understand what had happened to him. Dr. Bryce felt it best to talk to his parents before telling Chad exactly what was wrong with him. But Chad knew there was something wrong.
Hisepisodes, as Dr. Bryce called them, disturbed Chad more than he let on. There were blank spots in his memory. Lengthy periods that were walled off to him in his own mind. And the worst part was nobody would tell him what he was doing during those periods.
Was he crazy? Did he babble like a fool and try to soil himself like a couple of the other patients?
Chad hoped not, but until they actually told him what was happening he'd have to wonder.
Chad heard a loud, chirping cry from above. He glanced up, and spotted a tiny, blue crested Kingfisher, winging its way along on the thermals that surrounded the Rockies. The graceful bird banked sharp left, and fell into a murderous dive, heading straight for the spot where Chad sat. He held his breath as the bird nose-dived at incredible speed, and gave a little gasp of wonder as it pulled out and skimmed the surface of the brook with barely a ripple. As it climbed he saw the small pike clutched firmly in its talons. Then the bird banked left again, and disappeared into the trees.
Chad smiled to himself. He loved birds. Watching them fly like that, so graceful, so elegant, so totally free on the wind, it took his breath away. Chad sighed again.
If only he could fly.
The sounding of soft footfalls on the grass behind him made him turn. A stooped figure waddled up to the bench and tilted his shaved head to look at Chad.
The man was young, but he had a sunken face and dark rings under his eyes. He was reed thin and walked a slouched waddle that reminded Chad of a duck going sideways. Chad smiled at the newcomer.
"Hey Leroy," he greeted, "How are you?"
"I'm great, Chad, how are you?" Leroy's voice was surprisingly strong and clear. Completely out of tune with his appearance.
"Good," said Chad, "What brings you out here?"
"Dr. Bryce sent me," said Leroy, he shifted from foot to foot, a nervous reaction he'd apparently always possessed, "Your parents are here. He wants to talk to you."
Chad sprang to his feet. This was it! Finally, he was going to learn the truth.
"Come on, Leroy," he draped an arm across the other's shoulders, "Let's not keep 'em waiting."
-----
Maggie's heart soared when she saw her son.
She and Jack stood out in the courtyard, and watched Chad stroll toward them, a huge smile on his face and an arm slung around the shoulders of the young man sent to fetch him.
He seemed so full of life, so blessed with an urgent energy. Maggie could swear he was actually taller than the last time she'd seen him. But that had to be her imagination.
He disentangled himself from Leroy and lifted her in a mad bear hug.
"Hey gorgeous!" he gave her a wet kiss on the cheek, "Still breakin' hearts?"
Maggie giggled and slapped his arm playfully.
"Chad! Put me down!"
He complied, and shook his father's hand.
"So, I'm officially the black sheep of the family now, huh?" he said, still grinning, "That why you haven't been to see me in two weeks?"
Maggie clucked at him, "Of course not," she scolded, "The doctors wanted to keep you isolated for observation. Believe me hon, if I could, I'd be here everyday."
"I know mom, I was just kidding."
"You're ignoring me! Why are you ignoring me? I hate that! I hate it!"
They all jumped at the screeching voice.
It was Leroy.
He was dancing on the spot in a crazy shuffle, twisting his features into an ugly grimace and glaring at them.
"Don't ignore me!"
Suddenly, he rushed at Jack, arms extended and his fingers hooked into claws.
"Dad!"
Swiftly, Chad intercepted him. He gripped him around the waist and swung him up so his feet left the ground. Leroy continued to screech and spit at Jack, kicking out viscously and trying to tear himself away from Chad. But Chad got him in a firm hold, and spoke gently.
"Its okay Leroy, its okay, buddy," he cooed, "These are my parents. We just wanted to say hi. We weren't ignoring you."
"Don't ignore me!" he hissed, "I hate that!"
"I know, I know, buddy. Its okay."
Two beefy male nurses rushed outside to see what the commotion was. They swiftly took in the scene and moved to relieve Chad of his burden. Chad let Leroy go, still talking to him in the same quiet, calm tone, and Leroy seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, he flashed Chad a bright smile and followed the nurses inside.
Chad turned to his parents, rolling his eyes.
"Weirdos man, you can't leave 'em alone for a second."
Maggie's eyes widened at his comment and Chad chuckled.
"Does that happen often?" asked Jack.
"Fairly often," Chad shrugged, "Leroy's an okay guy. I like him. He just takes his abandonment issues way too seriously."
"How are you doing, honey?" Maggie couldn't hide her concern, "Is this place okay?"
"Are you kidding me?" Chad waved an arm, "Look at this place. Its like something out a Zen Master's wish list. And the funny thing is, I like the patients. Some of them don't communicate too well, but that's cool. I can flop down on a couch and read or write, and they just chill next to me, never saying a word. Its peaceful."
"Chad, don't take this the wrong way," said Jack, "But you really are a weirdo if you like this place that much."
Chad's sarcastic comeback was cut off by the arrival of Dr. Bryce. He appeared on the front steps and waved to them.
"Hi Chad!"
"Hi Dr. Bryce!"
Dr. Bryce descended the steps and made his way towards them. He didn't get far. Halfway, he was distracted by a loud screech from above. He whirled around, whipping off his glasses. The Karlysles all followed his gaze.
"Leroy!" Chad screamed.
Leroy was standing on the roof of the three story main building. He had his arms flung out to the sides, and he was hollering at them at the top of his voice.
"You think you can ignore me? You can't ignore me!"
Then he jumped.
To Chad, the world slowed down.
He saw his friend bend his knees and push himself off the ledge and out into the air. Then, before he realised what he was doing, Chad took off toward him.
He passed a stunned Dr. Bryce, willing himself to go faster, faster, and closed the distance to the spot where Leroy would land. He almost didn't make it.
At the last second before Leroy made an intimate connection with the concrete path, Chad leapt. He twisted his body so he caught Leroy facing up, and braced himself as they slammed into the unyielding ground. Pain whipped through his lower back and his teeth clattered together so hard it gave him an instant headache. Choking dust cascaded around them, making them cough.
But they were both okay.
Leroy disentangled himself and curled up next to the wall in a gibbering ball. Chad winced at the pain, and sat up. He laid a hand on Leroy's shoulder.
"Are you okay, buddy?"
Leroy nodded dumbly, not speaking. Chad sighed and heaved himself to his feet. He dusted off his clothes, then swung to face the others.
They were all still rooted to the spot. Dr. Bryce was looking at him with an expression similar to a freshly landed fish. His parents gaped, and he could see his mother was on the verge of tears.
"What is it?" he stepped toward them, suddenly concerned, "What's wrong?"
"How... How...?" Dr. Bryce's mouth flapped uselessly.
"What?"
"How did you do that?" Dr. Bryce looked at him with what can only be described as open awe.
Chad frowned but the doctor refused to take his eyes from Chad's face. He seemed stunned.
"Do what? Catch him? I don't know, I just did. Why didn'tyoudo anything?"
"There wasn't time."
"You were closer."
Dr. Bryce opened his mouth to respond, then clamped it shut again, shaking his head in wonder.
"What?" Chad repeated, growing agitated.
He felt his father's hand on his shoulder and turned to face him. His father's expression was identical to Dr. Bryce's, as though he were staring at a marvel rather than his own son.
"Chad," he whispered, "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You... You moved..." he took a breath, composing himself, "You moved so fast we couldn't see you."
"What?"
.
.
.
Chapter 3 - Treatment
Dr. Bryce sat at his desk; his chair swiveled round to face the window, and stared gloomily into the night. He had his glasses clutched in his slim fingers, compulsively twisting them round and round. His mind was going a mile a minute.
He'd just seen a miracle and he was struggling to accept the fact.
The boy had moved so fast he was rendered nearly invisible. That was impossible. He knew the obvious answer and refused point blank to accept it.
There was no Clark Kent!
There was no Superman!
No way, no how, no sir!
Smallville was a TV show starring a former male model named Tom Welling. He'd seen a movie where the guy playing Lex Luthor dressed up like a woman and stayed in a sorority.
Impossible.
Impossible.
Impossible!
Then how the hell did he move so fast?
His lack of answers was souring his mood.
Chad was good kid, and Bryce was fond of him. The hours they spent in session together were enjoyable. The kid was quick, witty and extremely intelligent. He was also gentle and caring, and Bryce knew that wasn't something you found everyday. Even during his episodes, Chad wasn't unpleasant.
Judging by the purported personality of young Clark on the show, Chad fitted the profile perfectly.
Kind, generous, a little dorky, with a massive Messiah complex. Even Chad's accent altered when he was Clark. This was definitely one of his strangest ever cases, and it had just taken a blind left into the Twilight Zone.
A knock at the door interrupted his muddling. He swiveled back round.
"Come in!" he called.
Helen, his aide, stepped inside carrying a thick arch-lever folder. She scuttled over to the desk and laid it down in front of her boss.
"Dr. Hamilton sent over all his reports," she said, "Will that be all, James?"
He gave her a gentle smile, and nodded.
"Yes, thank you Helen. You can go home, I'll be here for a while yet."
"Can I get you anything before I go? Coffee? Tea?"
"Mulder and Scully's phone number..." muttered Bryce.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing," he said, "Thanks Helen, I'll be fine."
She nodded, then turned and left the office. After the door shut behind her, he turned his attention to the folder.
Dr. Steven Hamilton of Denver Medical had been none too happy when Bryce had called him requesting Chad's medical records from the accident. It had taken a great deal of sweet talking and subtle threats to get the good doctor to relent.
Bryce remembered Hamilton's parting words at the end of their phone call.
"I don't know what you think you're looking for, James, but be prepared. You're going to see things in this kid's file that you can't explain, and neither can I."
Ominous words in the circumstances.
Bryce propped himself up in his chair, opened to the first page, and started reading.
-----
Four hours later he hadn't moved from his chair.
His desk was now scattered with a mess of scribbled notations and post-it-notes. He'd been through the file itself ten times over already. He was confident he could recite its complicated medical jargon without effort.
And still, he could not believe it.
Chad Karlysle, for all intents and purposes, should be dead as a doornail.
When Denver's Medic Team rushed him into the ER the night of the accident, he was a mess of shattered bones and ripped tendons. According to the report of his girlfriend, Chad's instincts had made him lean his body over hers to shield her from the impact. It had worked. But the result was that Chad himself had exposed his entire body to the crash zone.
His face was severely lacerated from where he smashed the windshield with his head. Many internal organs were ruptured, and he'd lost gallons of blood by the time Emergency Services got on the scene. The doctor on call had almost named him DOA.
Yet, barely a month later, Chad's health was fully restored. It was a medical miracle unheard of. But his doctor, Hamilton, took none of the credit.
The last slip of information in the file was a memo Hamilton had written after receiving the results of Chad's DNA Diagnostics on the day he was released.
The picture it painted was out of this world.
"Chad Karlysle is a phenomenon.
His rapid recovery after a horrifying accident prompted me to reorder a scan on his DNA blood work, and the results I've received have left me baffled.
Chad's DNA has completely mutated on a sub-atomic level. His cellular make-up no longer appears to be protein-based, but is replicating itself on a source our researchers cannot identify.
What's more, his atomic make-up is no longer stable. Or rather, it should not be stable in a human being.
The atoms themselves appear to be contracting and squeezing together at a critical mass that should have seen his body implode a long time ago.
The atoms now boast a density of 3 trillion tons per cubic inch. That, in my 'medical' opinion, is quite impossible.
The only other phenomena to exhibit such atomic density are neutron stars, found in the distant reaches of our universe. The atoms that make up these 'super-stars' are so dense they are basically one big atom.
That's what Chad Karlysle's physiology is displaying. And I, for one, am at a loss to explain it.
The tangible implications of this means that we can no longer do any new blood tests, because Chad's skin appears to have become impregnable. Fitting a needle is impossible, because the needles themselves snap.
If there is an explaination for this radical mutation, a scientific rather than theological one, then it appears to be beyond me."
Bryce laid the sheet of paper back down and clasped the bridge of his nose.
God! He was getting a headache.
.
.
.
Chapter 4 - Cure
Chad had a headache.
A fickin-frackin screamin' one!
It was past midnight and he couldn't sleep. He was sweating like crazy, and kept tossing and turning on the bed.
He knew, somehow, that his own body was protesting to what his mind now had to accept.
He was delusional. He was a nutcase. He was out of his goddamn mind.
Clark Kent?
Superman?
What the hell?
After Leroy's spot-test on the force of gravity, Dr. Bryce had sat him down with his parents and related the entire story.
For three months, since the accident, Chad's episodes were caused by another personality inside himself taking over; leaving him with no memory of the times his own was suppressed.
And that personality was... tarantadada...
Clark Kent!
Superman!
Freakin' Hell!
Chad could have accepted that, but for today's little incident.
His parents and Bryce swore they saw him move at super-speed.
It was one of a few similar incidents that Chad had not shared with anyone, including Dr. Bryce. Since the accident he'd been developing these strange…abilities?
One night while he was still in the hospital recovering, he'd had a nightmare. It was a bad one.
When he woke up, Chad discovered that he had been gripping the metal bars of his headboard, and had twisted the wrought-iron framework into complex squiggles. The bars were bent beyond repair. He told the doctors he had no idea what happened.
Another time, he'd been standing down by the brook, when a headache similar to the one he was experiencing now, struck him. Blinding pain flashed into his brain so suddenly that he screamed and lashed out. His swinging fist had connected with a tree, removing a sizeable chunk.
Then his big save today.
Chad recalled the eerie feeling, as the entire world seemed to slow down when he started to run. As if God had hit pause and forgotten to include him.
It was beyond weird.
Beyond terrifying.
He just wished the damned headache would go away so he could figure out what the hell to do about it.
-----
Nicole Sunderland opened the car door and stepped out into the nippy early morning air.
She clutched a parcel to her body, and stalked across the courtyard to the lobby entrance.
This would be her first time visiting Chad since he came here. Doctor's orders. She felt like the last month had been driving her slowly insane. No pun intended.
She missed her boyfriend with an ache that was physical. They'd been dating for two years and were beyond serious.
He was the kindest, most loving, most trustworthy person she had ever known, and being kept apart from him bordered on cruelty.
Chad had saved her life. In more ways than one.
Nicole's childhood was a bitter one.
Deadbeat father, non-existent mother, pain and trials and tribulations all the way.
She was always a good-looking girl. Her dark hair was long, lustrous, and bounced off her shoulders in in fiery curls over speckled hazel eyes. Her nose was aquiline, and her mouth full and sensuous.
But Nicole had never seen herself that way. She carried baggage into adulthood, and a sense that nobody would ever love her.
She shied away from her peers, burying herself in an endless ream of books that took her away to that special place where the handsome prince always rescued the tragic princess.
Then, much to her shock, he'd actually arrived.
Chad!
The Knight of her Heart!
She hustled up the steps and into the lobby. The nurse behind the desk greeted her and politely asked what she wanted. She told her she was there to see Chad Karlysle. The nurse nodded, and led her off down the hall to his room.
"I think he may still be asleep," the nurse told her.
-----
Chad was, indeed, fast asleep.
But this time, there were no nightmares.
Rather, he was having a wonderful dream.
He was flying!
The splendour of the Rockies spread below him, their ice-capped peaks glinting in the soft moonlight.
He zipped through the canyons and valleys, actually feeling the delightful rush of air as it caressed his body.
He laughed. This was fantastic!
He arched his body and started to climb.
Higher, higher, higher, till he passed through the candyfloss clouds and left them far below.
This was freedom no man ever dreamed of. The air was still and the night was infinitely quiet. He changed course and sped east with one thought in his mind.
Catch the rising sun!
-----
"Eeeeeeek!"
The scream shattered the dream.
Chad was flung back into consciousness and he gasped in fright.
He looked down. The bed was a long way away.
He fell, and trampled the bed.
-----
Nicole was rigid with terror.
She was shaking uncontrollably, her eyes bulging from her head.
Walking into the room and seeing her boyfriend floating four feet off the bed hadn't quite been top of mind.
She knew about his condition. She'd virtually wrung it from his parents the night before. But the way they explained it, Chad was just delusional, believing himself to be Superman.
Nobody mentioned floating!
Chad disentangled himself from the wreckage of the bed and stood, facing her. Judging by his expression, he was just as shocked as she was. They gaped at each other for a long moment.
Finally, Chad broke the silence by whispering a name.
"Lois..."
-----
"It's a mystery Steven. I can't explain it. All I can do, is tell you what I saw."
Dr. Bryce was seated in his easy chair once again, addressing an older, graying man with a sharp, trident beard. Dr. Steven Hamilton narrowed his eyes at Bryce.
"You can't expect me to believe the boy can move at so-called 'super speed'?" he snapped, "How would he even accomplish something like that? The physiology involved is impossible."
Despite himself, Bryce burst out laughing. Once started, the laughter wouldn't stop. He cackled until the tears were streaming down his face and he had to take off his glasses to mat his eyes with his silk tie.
"What is so funny?" Hamilton's tone was curt, and annoyed.
"Impossible? Impossible?" Bryce still couldn't stop the giggling, "You're actually telling me its impossible? You're the one who had his blood analysed. You're the one who snapped a needle on his arm. And you're telling me its impossible?"
"What is your point,doctor?"
Bryce ignored the stress on the word doctor, and asked a question of his own.
"Dr. Hamilton have you ever watched Smallville?" he asked, "Ever read any comic books?"
Hamilton was taken aback by the question, and it showed on his face.
"No," he said, "No. I haven't got time for silly modern fairy tales. What's that got to do with anything?"
"Okay, let me phrase it another way. Have you ever heard of Superman?"
"Superman?" Hamilton paused, and racked his memory, "I watched the movie. With that man who was in a wheelchair… I think he's dead now."
"Christopher Reeve."
"Yes, that's it. I didn't like the movie. Too unbelievable."
Bryce had to laugh again, "That, doctor, is precisely the point," he said, "Chad Karlysle has MPD. He believes he is Superman."
"But that doesn't explain his mutation. A psychological imbalance shouldn't manifest itself physiologically."
"No it shouldn't," Bryce agreed.
"Then what is it?"
"You know what, Steven? I have a feeling we can ask that question over and over again and we still wouldn't find the answer."
"He needs to be taken for special testing," said Hamilton, rising from his chair and pacing about the room, "There's a new lab being set up in Washington, Project Cadmus. Once it's complete, it'll be the single best research facility in the history of the world. We'll take him there."
-----
"No, Chad, I'm not Lois," she almost choked, seeing the sadness on his face, "I'm Nicole."
He stood there, watching her. Dressed in his favourite bedclothes. Blue track pants and a bright red t-shirt.
He looked confused for a moment. He studied her face, and his expression showed the turmoil that was going on in his head.
He recognised her, but then... he didn't.
It was obviously tearing him up.
Then, quite suddenly, he grinned.
"Come on, Lois, what kind of game are you playing?"
"There's no game Chad."
"Who's Chad?"
She couldn't answer for a moment.
There was genuine inquiry in his eyes. He honestly had no idea who she was talking about.
His parents had warned her about this, but she could never have prepared herself for the reality of seeing this 'other Chad'.
She felt a stabbing pain in her chest, and she choked up. Tears glistened in her eyes. He saw her distress, and immediately he was filled with concern.
"Lois," he stepped over to her and pulled her into a gentle embrace, "Please don't cry. Its okay. It's me, Clark. I'm here. You don't have to worry."
The dam burst.
Wracking, heart-wrenching sobs ripped from her throat and she buried her face in his chest. He smelled musky, and warm. She curled her fists in his shirt, and let her tears run their course. He hugged her to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head.
"Its okay... Its okay..."
Finally, she pulled away, and looked up into his eyes.
All the old spark, and love, and tenderness she always saw in them were still there.
He was Chad.
Her Chad!
No matter what.
"Come on," he said, taking her hand in his, "Let's go outside. We can watch the sunrise."
-----
Chad halted their progress down the hallway as they passed by Dr. Bryce's office. He just stood there for at least five minutes, listening intently. To what, she could not tell.
"Chad..."
"Shh!" he put a finger to his lips, silencing her.
Obediently, she stood there, frowning at him. Then, his eyes widened in shock, and his grip on her hand tightened.
"No!!!"
Nicole jumped at his outburst. Seconds later, the door to Dr. Bryce's office was flung open and the two doctors emerged into the hall.
"Chad, what is it?" asked Bryce.
"You!" Chad leveled an accusing finger on him, "You snake! You want to lock me up. Take me away from my family!"
"No, Chad! You've got it all wrong!"
Their argument had roused the nurses and other patients, and scores of people crowded into the hallway to see what was going on.
"You're a liar!" Chad bellowed, "I heard you. You're going to send me to Washington. You're going to let them study me like some kind of animal. My parents warned me about this! They told me this would happen if I ever trusted anyone with my secret. Well I won't allow it."
He made to move down the hall but stopped short. It was packed with people, blocking the path to the door. To get there he'd have to barge right through them and he didn't want to hurt anybody.
"Chad, just calm down, okay? Nobody's going to send you anywehere." Bryce put up his hands in a gesture of peace and approached the two teens.
"Stop calling me Chad! My name...is Clark! Now get away from me!"
Chad struck out, shoving the doctor away. He catapulted through the air, colliding with a male nurse and sending them both to the floor.
"Come on!" Chad jerked around, dragging Nicole with him, "We have to get out of here!"
"Where are we going?" she yelled, as they mounted the steps to the next floor.
"Away!" he said, "They want to send me to a lab in Washington! We have to leave. Now!"
Nicole just followed him. Mainly, because she hadn't a clue what else to do.
It seemed to her like the events of the morning had lasted a lifetime rather than minutes, and at the moment, she was too confused to put up much of a protest.
They hurtled up the stairs. Chad didn't stop on the second landing. Rather, he turned and hurried up the next flight. They could hear people running after them, echoing footfalls on the wooden floors. They burst through a door, and came out onto the roof.
Chad paused, casting his eyes about.
"What do we do now?" Nicole gasped, still short of breath.
He turned to face her. She saw the pleading in his eyes.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
She didn't answer, just locked her gaze to his.
"Do you trust me?" he asked again.
"With my life."
He grinned.
Then he bent, swept her up into his arms and dove from the roof.
-----
Dr. James Bryce stood at the edge, absently rubbing at the spot where Chad had struck him.
It was like stopping a sledgehammer with your chest.
But for reasons he didn't want to attempt to explain to himself right then, he didn't care.
He barely registered the cracked rib.
All of his being, all of himself, was focused on the soaring figures above. He watched Chad come to a halt some thirty feet away, and high above his line of vision. He held the girl in his arms, and they hovered there as if that were precisely where they were meant to be.
He was awestruck at the sight.
The young lovers superimposed on the waking dawn. A silver ghost of a moon dying slowly as the sky came alive with the promise of a new day.
Bryce smiled.
-----
They kissed.
Adrift on the dream of flying their lips met.
Sweet.
Slow.
Seeking the essence of each other.
Their salty tears mingled on their cheeks. And each felt the rapid heartbeat of the other.
Maybe it was the kiss; maybe it was the pure exhilaration of hanging in the sky.
Maybe it was both.
She broke the kiss and held his eyes. There was only love there, she knew.
So did he.
"Nicole," a hint of a smile drifted by as he said her name.
She kissed him again.
Hungrier.
More passionate.
More real.
And Clark died inside him in that moment.
He knew who he was. Who he should be.
The moment he caught the wind and rode it... the truth was laid bare for him.
The fantasy of Clark wasn't necessary anymore.
Only Chad.
No matter the name, the world still needed Superman.
"I love you..."
.
.
.
Epilogue – Bitter Medicine
He heard voices.
Whispers from the void. They seeped in, bare remnants of meaning. He clutched at them. Tried to hold them. Tried to find the truth behind the scatters as he woke from the bliss of dreams.
The voices grew stronger. The clarity returning. They flowed inside his mind, the pieces slowly melding.
"I'm sorry. It's the only way."
"No. It can't... It can't be true."
Mom? Mom! Was that his mother? Was that her voice?
"Is there really no other way?"
And that. Was that his father?
"I'm afraid not. We've held on as long as we can. Its hopeless."
He heard his mother begin to cry.
"What's happening?" he wanted to scream, "Mom! Why are you crying?"
"I'm sorry. Truly, I am. He'll be catatonic. He won't have life in any real sense. His heart still beats, but his spirit has flown."
"Maggie, it's the truth. You know it, honey."
Her sobs grew louder. Oh, the ache in those cries. It shattered his heart to hear her mourn like that. Suddenly, his father muttered.
"A drunk driver. One idiot drunk driver..."
They were silent for eons. His mother's cries were hushed and he guessed she'd turned her back on what was about to happen.
"No..." he wanted to whisper, "I'mSuperman..."
"Pull the plug, doctor."
.
.
.