Author Note:

I find it hard to believe that anyone would ever miss a page of this riveting tale! But for those few unfortunates who might have missed the chapters of 'Side Story', I say worry not True Believers! For the story is still up and you still have time to peruse the enthralling tale of enormous import!

However, if you continue on with this latest chapter - settle back in a cozy chair, make sure you won't be interrupted, and enjoy!

Editorial Note: No seriously, before anyone gets confused about some details they should check out 'Side Story'. I recommend the version on AO3, but either one works. It shouldn't take too long either.

Bayville High School - Bayville, NY...

:

A single word kept repeating for Clark. Over and over. Refusing to go away. Threatening to drown everything else out. Kryptonian. Single word, four syllables. That's what his people were called. They were Kryptonians and hailed from a planet called Krypton. A world billions of years older than Earth. Better still, Clark now knew more about his family - His grandparents were a scientist named Seyg-El and a no-nonsense soldier Mala Kil-Gor-El. His father was Jor-El, another scientist, who was both brilliant and optimistic.

At least that's what Logan thought given their strong familial resemblance. And while Clark was willing to trust Logan on this being his family, he still had questions.

For example what kind of man was his father really? Logan had only met him once, in the decade after world War Two. Anyone could pretend to be a decent person for a few minutes. Then there was the fact that Clark still knew nothing about his mother. No name or idea of what she was like, or if he had her eyes or her mouth or any of her features. All he had in regards to her were a few vague impressions, and he was unclear if they were real or just imagined.

But the worst part, the thing that bothered him the most, was that he still had no idea why they sent him away. Not for his powers, that much he now knew. But without that being the reason he was only left with far darker explanations. Maybe his family was being hunted, why and how he dared not think about. Or maybe they had been facing a planet wide genocide. Or the one that hurt the most to even consider, and the simplest explanation, what if his parents wanted nothing to do with him.

"Clark!"

Clark blinked, startled out of his thoughts and fumbled his books while trying to switch focus to Emma. "Huh, what?"

"Did you hear anything I said?" Emma asked, staring up at him with hands on hips.

"No." Clark admitted with reluctance, which only made her eyes narrow. "I'm sorry. I was just-"

"Not thinking or I suppose thinking too much."

Clark nodded, hiding his grimace. Kitty had been bad enough - she had started out wanting details about his date with Emma, then had started wanting to know why he was avoiding everyone and was so distracted. The last thing he wanted was for Emma to start bugging him about it as well.

"Oh relax," Emma said with an exasperated huff "I'm not going to have a hissy fit because you have something on your mind." Her expression softened before she jabbed a finger into his chest. "But since I'm letting you off this time, I want to know just what it is that has your attention?"

Clark hesitated, but shook off his instinct to brush her off. That had been part of his relationship problems with Lana and Chloe.

"After we got back from our date, I learned some stuff about my birth family and I can't stop, you know..."

"Obsessing." Emma said as he trailed off. "That makes sense. I'd ask if you wanted to talk about it but I get the feeling you'd prefer not to right now."

"Yeah, no, maybe?" Clark shook his head. "Sorry, it's just, I mean," he rubbed his neck "I think I need to figure this out on my own."

"Hmm, how male of you." Emma said before moving in and going onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Settling back on her feet, she grinned up at him. "Very well, but in exchange we will be making an appearance at Heaven this weekend."

Clark started to make a noise of agreement before what she said registered. "Wait, what?"

"Heaven. It's a nightclub in Manhattan, very exclusive, and very popular."

"I'm sorry but Heaven? Really?"

Emma smirked. "Oh yes. Whoever picked that name has a sense of humor I just adore."

"Ok," Clark said drawing the word out "I guess, I mean, sure..."

"Oh, please, could you sound mor-" Emma started only for Clark to cut her off with a kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck deepening it briefly. "Mmm. Friday. At eight. I'll have a car pick you up, I trust you can dress appropriately."

That said she pulled away from him, and with a heated look, turned on her heel before strutting away. Clark stared after her, bemused and thankful that the hallway was empty. As much as he enjoyed kissing Emma, he doubted he could do it in front of other people. Things were still too new and the last thing he needed was the torment that witnesses would give him. His thoughts were further disrupted by the P.A. system squawking to life and summoning him to the office.

Clark blinked, and then shrugged. Looks like A.P. Chemistry would have to wait.

A few minutes later he slowed as he saw Principal Darkholme standing in the office doorway. She gave him her typical dispassionate look. Then he noticed the other woman, an unfamiliar red head standing next to the principal, staring at him with teary eyed amazement.

Clark gave her a long look then turned back to the principal. "Miss Darkholme, you wanted to see me?"

"Hello Clark." The red headed woman said, starting to reach for him only to stop and press her fingers to her lips, full on crying now. "Y-you've gotten so big..."

"I'm sorry?" Clark asked, staring at her in confusion.

"It's my fault...I should have never...oh I'm so sorry..." the woman stammered while wiping her eyes."I'm such a mess...this isn't how I wanted to meet you...but I never imagined when I gave you up..."

Clark took a step back, alarmed.

"Clark, it's ok. I'm your mother."

Smallville: X-men
Episode 10: Revealed
by Geor-sama

Clark looked up as Principal Darkholme entered her office. She stopped and considered him with a cool look. After a moment the older woman walked around him and sat down behind her desk.

"Sit."

Hesitating, Clark did as instructed. Lacing her fingers together, they sat in silence for several long moments. "I have had Ms. Dunleavy escorted off school grounds. Our Resource Officer assures me she will not be allowed back."

Clark nodded.

"I've also contacted Professor Xavier and he is contacting your parents." Principal Darkholme said, and her stern expression softened somewhat. "I'm sorry she managed to get into the school and I can't imagine how upsetting her claims are."

"It's not your fault." Clark said distracted as he tried to figure out why the woman thought he was her son and who she was.

"Actually it is. While you are at this school, we are responsible not just for your education but also your safety."

Clark heard the frustration and anger in her voice, but his attention was elsewhere. Rachel Dunleavy. How did she know him?

"If you need to take some time to gather yourself then please do. I can do paperwork just as well with you present as without." Principal Darkholme said, pulling him from his thoughts once more. "We also have a school counselor if you need to speak with someone."

Clark shook his head. "No, I think it'd be best if I just got back to class, you know keep my mind off it."

Principal Darkholme gave him a long look. "Very well." She said, and then as he stood continued. "If you don't mind me asking, I know you said she wasn't, but if she was would you want to know her or would you rather she had stayed away?"

Something in her voice caught his attention. The exact emotion escaped him, but he knew that this was more than just idle curiosity. So he really thought about it before answering "Yes. If she was my birth mom...then yes, I would want to know her."

He saw something like relief in Principal Darkholme's expression before she gave him a curt nod.

Once he had left her office he ran a hand through his hair before setting off for A.P. History. Clark was twenty minutes late, and spent most of it struggling to concentrate. His mind kept circling around Rachel Dunleavy. Would she keep trying to contact him? Could he be wrong about her? No, he could not explain how he knew she was neither his mom nor a Kryptonian, but he still knew she was human. Still, what if he was wrong and had just slapped her in the face by rejecting her?

For the first time in a long time, Clark wanted to punch something.

Hard.

Smallville, Ks. - Kent Farm...

:

Martha rubbed her temples, trying to keep a few choice words back. She had never realized just how much they had come to rely on Clark's abilities until lately. Without him helping out the costs in maintaining the farm were going up. Oh they would turn a profit, but only by a narrow margin. One so narrow that one bad crop would burn through their safety net. And if something catastrophic happened? Something like the poisoned herd from last year for example, they would face foreclosure.

Of course Martha knew that Lex would offer to help, and Jonathan would reluctantly take it. But she also knew that would be a mistake for two reasons. First getting that kind of money involved would sour Lex's friendship with Clark in time. That was the last thing she wanted. Second it would be a plain bad investment. One which would hurt Lex's budding business and put the jobs of most of their neighbors in jeopardy. So no, if things got that bad, she would not allow them to take advantage of Clark's friend.

The screen door opening prompted her to look up. Jonathan stood there, gaze taking in her and the kitchen table covered with papers. A moment later he bee-lined for the coffee maker.

A few minutes later he was setting her faded blue coffee cup in front of her. "Bad?"

"Tight." Martha said tilting her head, making it easier for him to plant a kiss on her temple as he sat down. Taking a drink she shifted the financials over to him. "We'll make it, but our costs have definitely gone up now that Clark's not here to help out. Though what's really hurting us are the new dairy regulations."

Jonathan nodded taking in the figures, sipping his own coffee.

"I know we talked about it before, but we need to sell the herd."

"Yeah," Jonathan said in a heavy tone "we've also talked about selling the back forty, or at least renting it out. I guess we should start looking into that."

Martha nodded saying nothing, instead drinking her coffee. Jonathan turned his attention back to the papers and she watched him, knowing how hard this had to be for him. The farm had been in his family a long time, but they were both getting older. Plus it was getting harder to run an independent farm.

"I talked with Dorothy yesterday." Martha said at last, breaking the silence.

"The Gale girl that bought the general store?" Jonathan asked distractedly.

"Yes," Martha said starting to gather the papers up "she needs help at the store. I was thinking that I could help out there. The extra money would give us a bit of breathing room. Plus, I think the poor girl could use a friend."

Jonathan chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," Jonathan said as he finished his coffee "nothing at all dear."

"Mhm," Martha said but the phone ringing interrupted her response. Giving him a mock glare she got up and crossed the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello? Oh, Professor Xavier-" Martha started only to turn pale at his words "- say that again?"

At the table Jonathan was staring at her, his expression turning alarmed at her tone. He started to open his mouth to ask what was going on, but she held her finger up and he stilled. On the other end of the line Professor Xavier continued to speak his tone serious but calm. When he finished, Martha stood there in silence, staring at Jonathan but not quite seeing him. When Professor Xavier asked if she had something to write with she jolted into motion.

"Yes. Go ahead. Kansas City International. 13-9-12-11 13-1-14. 11:30." She hesitated, as if about to say something else, but then hung up.

"Martha?" Jonathan asked worry filling his voice.

Martha shook her head, waving him off as she tried to get around the shock. When a hand touched her shoulder she looked up at his worried face and sighed. "A woman, Rachael Dunleavy? She showed up at Clark's school this morning and claimed to be his mother."

"What?!"

"Professor Xavier got us a flight out at 11:30. We'll be there 3:30 their time."

A beat.

"If we're going to make the flight we have to get moving." Jonathan said.

Martha nodded and tore the page out of the notebook, even as her own worries shifted to her son.

Bayville High School - Bayville, NY...
:

By the time lunch rolled around, word of Rachel and Clark's meeting had spread. This being high school the rumors had already started twisting things around.

"So I heard your baby momma came looking for you." Evan said as he plopped himself down at the lunch table across from Clark.

"What?" Clark asked, startled out his thoughts and blinking up at the other teenager. The younger teen looked rougher than usual, but not nearly as bad as he had when Clark came back from Boston. Still a few lingering bruises that Clark wanted to wince in sympathy with.

"Your baby momma, a red headed MILF? She showed up this morning right?" Evan asked.

Clark blanched. "What? God no!"

"You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure."

Evan shrugged, munching on a fry. "Then is she Emma's mom? Did she show up to yell at you for screwing her daughter?"

"No Daniels, she is not my mother." Emma said as she joined them. "And even if she was, mother would not risk our family reputation by confronting us in public about our screwing."

Evan choked on his milk and Clark flushed a bright red and shot Emma a look.

"Oh please," Emma scoffed "we went away for the weekend and came back as a couple. Now there's a mysterious older woman at the school to see you? It would be more surprising if these imbeciles didn't think that."

"So, I mean, you two haven't...have you?" Evan asked shakily as he wiped the milk from his face.

"No." Emma answered while Clark cradled his head in his hands.

"Ah, ok then." Evan said, looking at them for a moment before shaking his head.

"Are people really thinking that?" Clark asked, lifting his head to look at Emma. Emma returned his gaze with a flat look, like if he had asked if water was wet. Clark grimaced and cradled his head once more.

Wonderful.

"So look, if that's not it, what's up?" Evan asked.

Clark shifted in his seat, debating on how to answer that. He knew that Emma had a vague idea of his family issues, but how much did she know about Rachael? Did he even want to talk about it anyway? Before he could reach a decision though, Emma answered.

"This woman showed up and claimed to be his birth mom."

"Shit, really?" Evan asked.

"Yes, really." Clark said looking up at Evan and seeing the coming questions he cut him off. "I'd rather not talk about it."

There was an awkward moment as Evan stared at him.

"Still, that's messed up." Evan said, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"What keen insight Daniels," Emma said smirking at a now irritated Evan "do you have any others?"

Xavier Institute for Gifted Children - Bayville, NY...
:

Charles Xavier watched the woman sit down across from him with polite interest. Most of his actual focus had shifted to the whirlwind of emotions he could pickup. {Happy, wary, nervous, eager, upset.} Each emotion flittered across his senses like a swift moving cloud. Even with all his decades of experience emotions remained nebulous. Save for when they were especially intense.

"I, I'm so happy you agreed to see me." Ms. Dunleavy said at last {gratefulness!}

"I admit to some hesitation Ms. Dunleavy and I have no doubt I'll have upset my lawyers by doing so." Charles said. "I can only hope that they won't become necessary."

"No! I mean, no, they won't...I was just, it was just...I mean..." Ms. Dunleavy paused and took a steadying breath. {Calm, stay calm, of course he'd be upset, they don't know I'm not a threat to my Lucas. He's just looking out for my child.} "I know I shouldn't have approached Clark, especially at his school. I was just so eager to see him after so long."

"This is why neither I nor Clark's parents have sought a restraining order. Yet."

{Fear, anger, acceptance} Ms. Dunleavy nodded, chewing her lip. "Professor Xavier, I know what you're thinking. I gave up my baby, what right do I have to show up after all these years?"

Charles stippled his fingers and leaned back. "Not as such, no. I understand the desire, it is common as one gets older to begin to wonder what-if. What I am wondering is why you believe Clark is your child."

{Confidence} "I've done my research. It cost me nearly all my life savings, but I have no doubts about what they told me."

"What research, exactly?"

"Here, look for yourself." Ms. Dunleavy fumbled with her purse and pulled out an age progression image. It did indeed resemble Clark. Her next set of papers were prints off a thread located on a forum dedicated to adoption. Apparently a year or so ago someone had been searching for Clark's birth parents, and had turned to the forum for help. It had his name, his age, location, and the words Metropolis United Charities. The papers she produced after those were copies of Metropolis United Charities records, which showed that Lucas was the only child they ever took in and that Clark was the only they ever placed. These pages also showed that they had never legally terminated Rachel's parental rights.

"See? He has to be my Lucas, he has to be!"

Charles looked up from the papers, frowning in contemplation. Ms. Dunleavy's thoughts were tinged with desperation for him to believe her. To see what was so obvious. Which he could. With this evidence, he could easily see how this poor woman could believe Clark to be Lucas. But questions lingered. Such as why had his own investigation into Metropolis United Charities not turn up a mention of Lucas? A more troubling one was what had happened to Lucas? Perhaps most intriguing of all was how and why Lionel Luthor would have anything to do with this woman and her child?

Setting the papers on his desk, he leaned back and stared at her from over his interlocked fingers once more. "If you don't mind me asking, who was Lucas' father?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" {I can't tell him...he'd never help...}

"Ms. Dunleavy," Charles said, keeping his voice calm "the Kent's will be here in a few hours, understandably upset and worried. I need to have as much of the details as I can so that we can all figure out how to move forward."

Ms. Dunleavy looked down, hands curling into fists on her lap. {Rage. Resignation.} "Lionel Luthor. When his wife became ill he needed someone to care for her and I ended up on his short list. I still remember the first time I met him. Lionel had this way about him. Confident, powerful, larger than life...intoxicating." {Longing} "It wasn't long after I was hired before, before well..." {Self-loathing} "I knew better, I kept swearing it wouldn't happen again...and I'd still..."

As Ms. Dunleavy trailed off, Charles let out a sigh. He understood completely. Nothing drew people like power or something taboo and combined few could resist. Some were only tempted but managed to turn away, but most could not. No matter how self-destructive they knew it to be the temptation was too great, the believed rewards to intoxicating. This was especially true when the temptation involved something so easy to confuse like love and lust.

"I fell in love, or I thought I did. I was pregnant, wrapped up in daydreams about life with Lionel and our child. By that point Lionel had hired someone else to take care of Lillian and I was living it up in a private penthouse, wanting for nothing. Save that Lionel wouldn't leave his wife, even after I gave birth."

{Hurt, fury, spite}

Charles jolted at the strong emotions, and slipped deeper into her mind. What he saw of her memories - "You tried to kill her."

Ms. Dunleavy froze, eyes widening and face paling.

"And when Lionel found out he was furious and you tried to lash out at Lionel through your son. He took the child away, put it up for adoption and had you committed."

{Fear, Fury. I'm NEVER LeTting ThaT BasTaRD TOUCH MY SON!} "How do you know that?!" Ms. Dunleavy shouted, jumping to her feet.

A second later Ms. Dunleavy sank back into her chair, chin touching her chest in a deep slumber.

Charles let out a heavy breath, hating that he had to do such a thing. Anyone else he would have tried to talk down, but her mind had begun to lose cohesion. Violence had been only a heartbeat away. After a moment he stopped the hidden recorder, considering his next steps. He would need to change her memory of the last few minutes, which would prove tricky. Altering memory was a delicate thing even with a stable mind, and Ms. Dunleavy's mind was far from stable. Once he finished with that he would need to address the underlying issue of her presence. This meant going deeper in her mind and adjusting key emotions and thoughts, hopefully without triggering a slide into deeper mania or insanity.

Gathering his thoughts and resolve Charles began working. Rather than trying to erase the last few minutes, he opted to merely shunt them off into a fear flavored stray day dream. He would erase them, but the emotional connection to those memories would remain and that could result in transference. Once satisfied with that he slid deeper into her mind. He could not make her forget the idea of Clark being Lucas, or the hope attached to it, but he still had options.

He pulled her doubts to the surface and reinforced them so that they would build on their own. That would blunt her fervent belief in regards to Clark being her son. Then he began planting a compulsion in her subconscious. One that would ensure that she would accept their counter-evidence without a second thought. Again he observed reinforcing the changes as needed. With that accomplished he began placing safe guards to ensure that she did not slide into a self-destructive or violent spiral.

Finished Charles withdrew from her mind. He reset the recorder to the proper spot and nudged her back to wakefulness.

"Ms. Dunleavy?" Charles said as she stirred, drawing her dazed attention to him. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, sorry. I... I drifted for a moment. Guess I haven't been eating or sleeping well." Ms. Dunleavy murmured shaking her head before gathering herself. "As I was saying, my evidence proves that Clark is my Lucas."

Charles nodded. "It certainly seems to be a possibility. I'll be speaking with Clark's parents once they arrive and I'll inform you of how they wish to move forward."

{Hopeful, Happy, cautious: Is this really the end? Am I wrong? No, he has to be Lucas. Right?} "Thank you Professor Xavier! Thank you!"

A few more words of gratitude and then he called Ororo into his office to escort the poor woman out. Charles kept his attention focused on her mind, wary until she was long gone.

Xavier Institute for Gifted Children - Bayville, NY...

:
"I just don't get why he won't talk to us." Kitty said, pouting. "We're friends right? I mean, did we do something to make him think he can't talk to us?"

Jean sighed. "Kitty, he's just not ready to talk."

"But-"

"No." Scott said, tone sharp.

Kitty flopped back on the couch and crossed her arms. "This is so stupid."

Kurt remained quiet.

Clark going silent all weekend had bothered her, and the new mystery woman had only made it worse. Then Emma had confided that Clark had been reeling with 'birth family news' during the weekend. Then Evan had helpfully added that the mystery woman had been Clark's possible birth mom. So now Kitty had shifted from 'we need to figure out why Clark has been avoiding us' to 'we need to make Clark talk so things will get better'.

Hence why Kurt refused to join Scott and Jean in trying to keep Kitty from doing so. He knew nothing they said would deter her. Because Kitty saw a friend dealing with something and wanted to help.

So instead he made his way to the kitchen for a snack. But once he was alone with his super shaggy sandwich, Kurt began thinking about how to deal with this. Because while Kitty's plan was horrible, Clark probably did need to at least know they were there if he wanted to talk. It would also be a good idea if whoever approached him at least had an idea of how hard, upsetting, and painful it could be.

Kurt chewed slowly and once he finished his sandwich made his way upstairs. He half expected Kitty to already be at Clark's door, but the hall was empty. Another bonus was that Clark was in his room, absorbed in reorganizing his books. Ok, Kurt could do this - he knocked on the open door. "Clark?"

Clark turned expression curious "Kurt? You need something?"

"Na ja...it is about your mother." Kurt said and the instant the words were out of his mouth he regretted it. Clark's curious expression had gone flat and he seemed to freeze. Kurt grimaced and held his hands up. "I am sorry, I did not mean, I just wished to speak."

Clark said nothing remaining a motionless statue. So motionless that Kurt could almost believe he had stopped breathing. After a moment of silence Clark turned and resumed shifting his books around.

Kurt moved further into the room, now on edge. It was not until he was sitting down in Clark's desk chair that he noted how neat everything appeared. Impossibly precise actually and that only deepened how uncomfortable he was.

Still he ignored it and focused on what he wanted to say. "I do not speak of it much, if at all. I grew up knowing I was different. The others think my physical appearance changed when I could teleport, but this is not so. I have always appeared this way. So I always knew and thought - they told me I was a home birth and I thought perhaps I was marked by the devil and that was why. But when I was nine, I could not sleep and so I snuck out of my room. I heard my parents arguing, they never did it when I was around and I was curious. So I listened. They were fighting about whether they should tell me how they found me in the river, that I was not their son by birth...I did not react good."

Clark paused, turning to look at him.

"Ever since, I have wanted to know. So if you wish to speak of what you've been told I will listen."

For a moment Clark stood there in eerie non-motion. Then he relaxed and moved to sit on his bed. "I always knew I was different too. Always stronger, faster, more durable. I never knew why. I thought I was a freak or like Samson." Here Clark and Kurt shared a grin at the similarity in thought. "Then when I started middle school they told me and I didn't know how to handle that. So I tried not to think about it, pretended it didn't matter. Got good at it, and if anyone ever brought it up I would shut them down."

Kurt understood that, at least a little. "It is hard, ja?"

Clark nodded. For a moment neither said a word and then Clark sighed, hanging his head.

"She just showed up out of nowhere and said 'hey, I'm your mom' and I just stood there wondering who she was and why she thought she was my birth mom."

Kurt hesitated trying to reign in his own eagerness. "What if she is your real mom?"

Clark shook his head.

"But what if-"

"No. Kurt, just no." Clark said sounding resigned as he lifted his head. "I know she's not. She can't be."

"How can you just dismiss her like that?"

Clark opened his mouth to say something before he paused. Then he shook his head and sighed. "Trust me. I have no doubts that I'd know my mom if I saw her and Rachel Dunleavy is not her."

Kurt shook his head, having a good idea to why Clark thought that. He believed it as well, but he knew better. "I dream sometimes. I was so young, I shouldn't remember anything. But still, there is thunder, howling, and terror. Then I am falling and someone is yelling high above me." Kurt paused as his voice cracked "It is my mother and I know her voice, so if I heard it I would know."

Pause.

"Or so I tell myself. Clark, if there's even a chance -"

Clark cut him off angry. "There's not!"

Kurt threw his hands up in mounting frustration. "How can you be that certain?!"

"Because I'm not human!" Clark snapped.

For a moment Kurt could only stare after him in shock and disbelief. Followed swiftly by anger. "Du bist kein Mensch?!" Kurt shouted exploding to his feet and smacked his watch turning off the holographic illusion hiding his true features. "Was bin ich dann?!"

Clark stared back at him angry look draining away to be replaced by a look of regret. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it-"

"No!" Kurt cut him off. "You meant it! Do you truly think this? Because if you are not human then you say none of us are!"

"Kurt you're human, so are the others." Clark said his voice dropping, growing uncomfortable. Running a hand through his hair he seemed to hunch in on himself. "I, when I say I'm not human I'm not talking about the one percent genetic difference between humans and mutants. I mean it literally." Clark's expression hardened as he stood and seemed to draw himself to his full height. "Mutants, humans, trees, animals, everything here. You can look at its DNA and see it's from Earth. But not me."

"I'm from a planet called Krypton."

Kurt's eyes widened, shock and disbelief overtaking his anger.

"That's how I now she's not my mother Kurt. Because I was sent here as a baby, alone."

"Die Himmel erklären den Ruhm des Gottes, das Himmelsgewölbe verkündet seine Handarbeit." Kurt whispered making the sign of the cross, face filled with awe.

"You're not going to probe us are you?!" Kitty suddenly blurted falling through the wall. Looking up at them she blushed a beautiful shade of red.

"Kitty?" Clark asked, sounding angry, looking scared...

"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to...I mean, I just sort of accidentally heard you two..." Kitty started to sink into the floor before shaking it off. "Sorry?"

Clark said nothing, going motionless once more. Then there was a gust of wind. It rustled the papers on the desk, pulled the blanket off the bed, and rattled the windows. Leaving only a stunned Kitty and a worried Kurt alone in its wake.

Unknown - Bayville, NY...

:
When Clark ran he was careful to make sure his speed never got away from him. At least that is what he had done in the past, but right now that was the last thing on his mind. He had needed to get away from Kurt and Kitty, from the look of fear and blossoming anger on their faces. So he ran. Faster and faster and faster. The world around him slowing further and further toward a frozen mosaic. He slipped between the near frozen cars without a second thought. Shot across the freeways and highways. Hyper-aware of everything. The wind tore at his clothes, rending holes in them and still he ran.

Until the realization that he needed to stop hit him. If he kept building speed it would become too dangerous. He was already moving too fast, if he made even the tiniest mistake it would be deadly and gruesome. Worse a sonic boom at ground level in a city would cause property damage and injure a lot of people. So he left the roads, left the city, searching for a safe place to stop.

A second later he came to a halt deep inside a grove of woods. Once the world returned to its real-time motion he doubled over, hands clutching his sides.

It had been a long time since he ran than fast and he felt it. Or at least his mind told him he felt it. The Professor thought such sensation psychosomatic for Clark and with good reason. After all Clark was invulnerable and could make sudden stops at terminal velocity without suffering fatal internal injuries. Which made Clark wonder - If it only existed in his mind did he have any right to complain, no matter how real it seemed to him? And if he knew was all mental then why did he continue to experience it?

Once the stitch in his side disappeared, he straightened up and took in his surroundings. Behind him the road he took to get here stopped being pavement two hundred feet back. A private access road. To where he had no idea, but he knew that further behind him lay the mansion. A place he had no desire to go back too right then.

God. Sixteen years of caution, half-truths, fear and... And he blew it.

He turned away and started walking. Further in the woods became marshland and the path little more than two ruts in the ground. Before long that gave way to a wooden foot path. The path curved with the ground, occasionally becoming a bridge over brackish streams. It was after the third such stream when he found an information board that told him where he was - the 'Mill Neck Preserve'.

Turning he continued down the wooden path, forcing his mind to focus on the beauty around him. A bit more walking brought him to a covered wooden bridge stretching over a lake of dark water. Mid-way across the bridge his pocket began to buzz and he stopped, pulling the phone out. The tiny screen on the flip-phone showed an incoming call from Jean. He stared at it, feeling it vibrate in his hand, knowing he should answer.

In the end the call went to voice mail and Clark sighed in relief. He would have to face them soon, but right now? He could not handle it. Shaking his head he stepped to the side of the bridge and leaned against the railing.

His phone buzzed again, another call. Clark let it go to voicemail as well. He had been thrilled when the Professor had given it to him for his trip to Boston but right now he regretted having it. Another call to voice mail and Clark turned the phone off completely. The last thing he wanted was Kitty tracking him down.

Shoving his phone back in his pocket he let out a heavy breath and stared at the mostly still water. Here and there he could see what looked like turtles popping up their heads above water.

He wondered what would happen when he finally went back. No, he knew what was going to happen. They were going to call him an alien freak and send him home. But was it really his home? He was from Krypton. His home was on a whole other planet. Right? Maybe?

Oh God, his mom and dad were going to be so mad and worried. It was like no matter what he did he somehow managed to hurt others - maybe it would be better if he just disappeared? He took a deep breath and let it out slow. Deep breaths. He was freaking out. He just needed to breathe, take the time and get some distance.

Pete had been good once he got past the initial shock and hurt. The others would hold it against him, probably trust him less, but they'd come around. Right?

"Mind if I join you?"

Clark jerked at the voice and turned. For a moment his eyes watered as if they were trying to focus on something too sharp and bright. When he blinked it went away and he found a woman staring up at him with deep set, dark and expressive eyes. Her dark hair was tinged green and curled down past her hips, complimenting her turquoise blouse and sari with its gold embroidery.

"If you want?" Clark asked, distracted by the deep sense of familiarity washing over him.

"Thank you," the woman said, her husky voice warm and strangely affectionate. Settling against the railing next to him, she smiled and somehow that transformed her chiseled, angular features into breath-taking beauty. "I'm Ahti," she placed a finger to lips "keep that quiet please?"

"Sure," he said, uncertain even as he resumed leaning against the railing "I'm Clark."

"Hello Clark," Ahti said, her voice rich with an undercurrent of emotions he could not decipher. Then she turned her attention the brackish water below. "Are you enjoying the terrapin?"

"Terrapin?" Clark asked.

"The turtles Clark," Ahti said almost laughing "It's from an Algonquian word torope which means turtle. Terrapin are a species that lives in fresh or brackish water to be exact."

Clark had the strange sense that he had had a similar conversation before. He shook it off. "Ah, then yes, I'm enjoying them." He pointed at one of the turtles with a bluish hue to its shell. "I really like Leo there, but I haven't seen any of his brothers yet."

The woman laughed and the two stood there for a while just watching the turtles.

"Is everything ok?"

Clark jerked, turning to stare at her, but Ahti kept her gaze on the turtles. He had a feeling that this was not just a random conversation, but for the life of him he could not make heads or tails of her reason for approaching him. Or why he found her so strangely familiar. "What makes you think I need to talk?"

"Because any time a young person is alone and looks so serious it means there is a problem waiting to happen." Ahti said. "And I know you're wondering why I care. It's because I have a best-friend who helps everyone he can and he's never needed a reason beyond 'I can'. So I can't see a reason why when I'm able to do so, the same shouldn't be the same for me."

Clark nodded, wishing he knew more people like that.

"So?"

Clark considered it. He needed to talk and there was something about her. Something about her struck a chord with him so deep that he could never explain it. It should frighten him, make him wary, but instead he started talking trying to tell her at least the broad strokes.

"I'm adopted, I never knew until I was older. And I wonder about my parents, about the life I could have had, why I wasn't with them, what happened that made them get rid of me...stupid stuff like that. And there's secret stuff, things I learned years later that I can't talk about because I need to keep my family safe. And I've learned to live with that, you know? But it's still there, and it tears my friendships part and I can't stop, and it's just-"

Clark stopped, taking a breath.

"It's heavy," Ahti continued for him "holding a secret like that. Makes it hard to breath sometimes. Sometimes you spend so much time thinking about it, worrying about what will happen when it comes out because you know somewhere deep inside that secrets always come out. It paralyzes you sometimes, makes you afraid to go after the things you want, knowing that if you do then your secret is going to take it away."

Clark nodded, slow, not meeting her gaze.

"And I'm guessing that whatever that secret is, it has something to do why you're so afraid."

Clark wanted to reject that, but he saw it at that instant. Yes, he was afraid. "I screwed up. I was arguing with a friend and he kept pushing and I snapped and it came out."

"Why was he pushing?"

Clark sighed "We were both adopted so we were arguing about," he paused, taking a breath "a woman showed up at school this morning and claimed to be my birth mom. She isn't because I know she can't be. But she still claimed to be and I was so upset and confused," he shook his head dismissing that "anyway, when my friends found out one of them tried to talk to me about it, but he started pushing. Badgering me about how I could be so sure and how I could just outright reject her and how did I know for sure and how I could never wonder if...and I've spent a long time wondering 'what if' and he just kept pushing."

"And so you snapped."

Clark nodded.

"But that's not all, is it."

"No. When I realized what I said I started to panic. But then I saw, or thought I saw him accepting it, like I was still his friend. But it turned out another friend had been eavesdropping and the look on their face was...and I knew it wouldn't be long before all of them looked at me like that, with fear and anger, so I ran."

Ahti nodded. "I remember doing something similar myself."

Clark turned to face her in surprise.

Ahti closed her eyes and let out a soft breath. "I was adopted too, after a fashion. When I was younger I learned that my parents weren't really mine. I was confused, didn't want to accept it. I loved them and the life they gave me. It hurt letting them go."

"They kidnapped you?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't explain it, well I could but it would confuse you. They loved me, I loved them, but they weren't mine and I wasn't theirs. I was a very confused girl when I figured it all out and I had so many questions. This is funny when you know me. When my friend tried to help me, I thought I saw pity and horror and rejection so I pushed him away. I pushed everyone away actually and I ran. But my friend didn't give up on me, he found me again, and we talked."

"What happened?"

"He helped me see truths I was trying to avoid, and accept them. That hardest was that I could never go back. That still hurts. But I also figured out that he never hated me. Never judged me. Everything I thought he felt or thought was my own fears coloring my perceptions."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Clark asked, frowning as he considered it.

Ahti nodded.

Clark stared at her for a bit longer, before turning to stare back out at the water beneath them. He had been thinking, or at least hoping, they would come around. But if he stopped and actually pictured Kitty's expression he started to wonder if there was anything for them to come around too. He thought they would be upset with him still, he had been keeping a secret and that would sting. But they understood what it was like to be different, to have the weight of keeping secrets.

Everyone at the mansion did.

He let out a shuddering breath, truly starting to relax. He looked over to thank her, to ask her why she seemed so familiar. But found only empty space. He spun around fast, faster than human fast. But found no one. Then he froze as he heard her whispering to him, like the gentlest breeze.

"I'm glad I could help Kal-El, and don't worry you'll see me again. After all, I'm like a bad penny."

Authors Notes:

To be honest I'm not entirely happy with this chapter's flow. I feel like I should have added a scene between the Xavier bit and Kurt's conversation, but I just couldn't come up with anything. I tried moving the Lunch scene around...but yeah, no matter what I did I could not come up with a good flow for this chapter. Plus I kept rewriting the Clark scene at the end...and I realized I was overdue with this chapter so I decided to just bite the bullet and at least get this out there.

1) You'll notice I've started shifting away from how I showed Kurt's accent earlier. I decided that by this point he should have a firmer grasp of English and so wanted to show that, so now his accent is starting to soften. So no more 'das' and 'und' and so on. Of course I still threw in the occasional German and tried to mirror the language syntax as best I could. You'll also notice he still lapsed into full on German (I hope I got it right, let me know if I screwed up) when he got upset. Again something I've noticed with people that speak multiple languages - when they get mad they slip right into their native language as they want nothing to get in the way of tearing you a new one.

2) For those curious about what Kurt said before he made the sign of the cross, he is quoting Psalm 19:1 - The heavens declare the glory of God, the vault of heaven proclaims his handiwork.

FYI, if I ever met a real alien (provided its friendly and not say...Xenomorph) that's probably the quote I'd go with too. I'd probably follow up with NaNu Nanu or Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong.

3) In regards to Ahti, when I picture her she's a blend between Reshma Shetty (from Royal Pains) and Rekha (from Silsila). That said I did struggle on her description - I hate writing those things. If you're not careful you can end up throwing off the flow of a story, end up with something cringe inducing, or just plain offensive. Hopefully I managed to turn out a decent one (I intend to go back and redo Ororo's initial reveal, it just feels so odd to me).

Anyway, I think that's all for now. Hope you enjoy the chapter and I'm curious to hear your thoughts.

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