Title: A Hero Arrives: Sequel to 'A Fallen Hero'

Author: DCForever

Contact: dcforever23@yahoo.com

Feedback: Who doesn't want it? It is definitely welcomed.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Science Fiction

Archiving: Archiving is permitted as long as I know of where it will be posted and that all the above info stays intact.

Disclaimer: Lets get this straight...I'm not affiliated with anyone...don't have anything of major value. Think that about covers it.

Author's Note: Please, let me know what you like or hate about the story. I would also like to hear suggestions on which direction I should take the story. Ideas people... ideas. Hey, what can I say...the story is un-beta-ed and short.

The silhouette of the city's skyscrapers slowly came into view as the Greyhound bus neared the city; the sun slowly slipping beyond the city's horizon replaced by the yellow, orange, and reddish tinted clouds. The sky projected a serene look...like you thought you would only see in magnificent paintings. The driver brought the bus to a halt, opened the collapsible doors and thanked all the passengers before they exited the bus. Many of the passengers waited by the side of the bus...anticipating reclaiming their luggage from the storage compartments beneath the bus. The driver stepped off the bus and walked over to the side storage doors. Bending down, he
attempted to open the storage compartment locks, but was unsuccessful. He tried again, but still the door remained unmoved.

Turning to his previous passengers, "I'm sorry folks, but I can't seem to get the doors to budge. All I can say is that I'm sorry. If you all care to follow me back to the bus terminal, I'm sure one of our technicians would be able to pry it open."

The crowd started to get restless. One woman cried out, "Are you sure there isn't anything you can do?"

"Ma'am, I'll try it again if that will satisfy you." The driver walks back over to the doors and re-inserts the key and attempts to twist the key in both directions, but the lock never budged. "See Ms...I can't get it to budge."

Two burly, male passengers stepped forward and asked if they could have a go at the lock. After several hard efforted tries, they returned the key to the driver and hung their heads. "He's right...the doors are jammed."

A tall, dark haired young man, dressed in an solid burgundy shirt overlaid by plaid shirt, slowly made his way through from the back of the other 35 plus passengers towards the front. "Mind if I give it a try?"

The previous two men didn't like the idea that a teenage boy was going to try and show them up. "What...you don't think you could do any better than us do you? Look at us, boy...muscles don't get much bigger than ours; you trying to say that you're stronger than us? You ain't nothing more than a weakling. So keep dreaming kid. Hell, my son is about your size and I knock him from one end of the trailer to the other end. What makes you any different?"

The young man quickly stepped to within a couple inches of the two men, sporting a huge grin. "First off mister...I'm not your boy. Second, how would you like it if someone beat you from one end of this bus to the other end? I would say its about the right length for a good trailer? Hows about it?"

"Take your best shot, kid."

"Hold that thought...be right back." The young, holey jean wearing, man walked over to the side doors making sure to block off as much of the passenger's vision as possible. Through his eyes, he slowly saw the metal and the inner lining of the bus fade away as the contents of the storage
compartment came into view. He saw that some of the luggage had shifted and was lodged up against the lock. He placed his palm against the side of the door and quickly accelerated his hand. Through squinted eyes, he watched as the luggage quickly shook itself loose from the door's locking mechanism. Returning back to normal vision, he stood up, turning the lock, allowing room for the luggage doors to open.

Turning back to the two older men, the driver, and the rest of the passengers, "No problem folks. I believe the luggage might have been stopping the lock from working properly. Its all yours Sam." The driver stepped forward, shaking the young man's hand.

"What's your name, son?"

Smiling his usual farm boy smile, "Kent, sir...Clark Kent."

"Well, Mr. Kent...thanks a bunch. You have no idea how much grief you saved all these people, including myself."

"Just glad I was able to help. And speaking of helping...I'll be right back." Clark stepped back towards the two men. "Now, what was so difficult about that? Two strong men like yourself let a weakling like myself show you up."

Clark could see the men's faces reflected even more anger than from before. "Here, I'll help you decide if you think you or the two of you can take me or not."

Clark stepped forward, grabbing both men by their shirt collars, and casually lifted them a foot or so above the ground. "I'm being really nice today, so I suggest you accept my kindness and forget about your little ego trip."

The two men nodded their heads in agreement. The on looking passengers just stared in bewilderment as the young man slowly brought the men's feet back to the asphalt pavement. Upon set down, Clark extended his hand towards the men and surprising they both shook it.

"Sorry about before, young man. I didn't mean what I said...I don't even have a boy your size...actually, I don't even have a boy period. Thanks for helping with the luggage problem." Looking at his friend, "Can we be going now?"

Grinning, "My pleasure." The crowd parted as Clark walked over and grabbed his two duffle bags from the storage compartment and casually made his way back through his fellow passengers. A few threw their hands up and started clapping, others just started looking for their luggage. Minutes later, only a shadow that crept along the pavement, could be seen of young Clark Kent. He slowly drifted into the darkening, city night.

As Clark walked from one intersection to the other, all he saw was the darkening of the sky and the bluish tint glow coming from the tallest skyscraper in Metropolis, LexCorp. Clark hated the idea that he had to fake his own death just so he could become what he was destined for...savior to the innocent...righter of wrong doings...a hero. To gain a purpose and future, he had to trick and lose his dearest and closest friends; Pete Ross, Lana Lang, a one Lex Luthor, and above all Chloe Sullivan. Chloe later learned of the truth behind the lie that was Clark's death, but she hasn't spoken to him since that day that he wrapped his arms around her waist, in the middle of the Kent's living room, and whispered in her ear that he was sorry. Clark still plays that moment over and over in his head and wonders if he did the right thing in using the destruction of the Smallville High Gymnasium as his deathbed.

Clark's train of thought was disrupted by a loud screeching scream. The screams could easily be heard by the city dwellers all around, but screams in the night were commonplace to the residence of Metropolis. The alleyways were considered 'No Man's Land.' Clark ran as fast as he thought was acceptable without being obviously noticeable. As he rounded the corner of the Metropolis Savings and Loan Bank, he could hear the cries of a woman in trouble. Dropping his duffle bags at the entrance to the alleyway, he slowly walked closer towards crying sound. About halfway down the alley, the newly risen moon cast a light off the surrounding water puddles, allowing Clark to clearly see three men gang raping a younger woman.

Without warning, Clark dashed over and football tackled two of the waiting men into the nearest brick wall. The man, still taking advantage of the young woman, was oblivious to what happened...he thought it was nothing more than a gust of wind. Clark regained his footing and walked over to the lone man. Without thinking, he picked the man up by the back of the neck and
slung him as hard as he could back over his shoulder. The crashing sound of metal, caused Clark to instinctively look back over his shoulder. He hung his head knowing what he had done was wrong. He observed the lifeless legs protruding out of a nearby dumpster. He knew that no human's head could split open a solid metal dumpster and live to tell the story.

Regaining his composure, he turned his attention back to the beaten, abused, and naked young woman laid out on the murky alleyway floor. The view he saw made his stomach sick; her top was shredded to the point of no cover, her skirt was ripped up the middle and thrown to either side of her body, and her panties ripped to shreds and hanging from her bruised and swollen mouth.

Upon closer observation, he noticed that she had a huge slash across her left eye and down her face, nonetheless the markings of the knife that fell from the hands of the one of Clark's first victims. He knew he had to help this woman or she wouldn't make it to daybreak. Kneeling down, he first removed the undergarment from her mouth and then scooped her body up in his arms and started back towards the entrance of the alleyway. The moon's projected light allowed the young man to see further bruises and cuts on the young woman's mangled body. It was at that moment that he knew, secret or no secret, that without delay he had to do everything in his power to save
this woman.

Two minutes and a few wrong turns later, Clark slowed from superhuman to normal speed, out in front of Metropolis General Hospital. Rushing through the doors and screaming, "I Need a Doctor. This Woman Needs Help!"

Nurses ran down the hospital corridor and intercepted them. Upon seeing the shape the woman was in, one of the nurses ran screaming down the hall trying to get a doctor. The other nurse instructed Clark to follow her to the nearest available guerny, where he gently placed the young woman down. The other nurse quickly returned with a doctor in tow. As the doctor and two nurses rushed the woman down the hospital corridor, medical terminology was being spat from every direction. Clark watched as they took the woman through two double doors and quickly pulled drapes around themselves and the body.

Clark wasn't about to wait with patience. Peering through the glass of the double doors, he concentrated his gaze on the drapes and slowly the material faded away, giving him a complete view of the room and what was going on behind the drapes. The doctor was checking out all the bruises, marks, and penetration areas, while one nurse started IVs and the other retrieved a
rape kit. Clark had seen enough; he allowed his vision to return to normal. He knew if he stayed, he would have a ton of questions to answer from both the hospital staff and eventually the cops. First day in Metropolis...he couldn't risk anything. Turning on his heels, he quickly walked back down the corridor from which they came, and exited the hospital. As the exit door was closing, the head nurse came back out the room to find the young woman's hero...nowhere in sight.

Only fifteen minutes may have passed since Clark first sped out of the alleyway carrying the rape victim, but to him it felt like forever as he once again stood looking at the three men; one dead, two out cold. He wasn't able to remove the images of the woman from his mind...he was scared
that they were burned there forever. He carefully removed the man's head from the confines of the dumpster's side wall and laid the body by his buddies.

Thinking out loud. "Hopefully the police will be as disgusted about this as I am and not examine the area." He returned to the dumpster and rebent the spread out pieces of metal back into place. "That should help." Turning around, he started back out the alley, picking up his previously discarded duffle bags on the way.

(2)

The next morning, Clark walked down the stairs leading to the lobby he entered the previous the night. Stepping through the doors, he turned to walk towards the front desk. The hotel was no where close to be inviting as say the Ritz, but it offered a cheap, one bedroom for Clark to rest the night away. As he approached the desk, he took in the decor of the lobby. The walls were wallpapered with a solid burgundy color paper and peeling throughout much of the room. The front desk was an antique brown with many years behind it...probably as many years as the desk clerk that rested in a louge chair behind the counter while watching tv.

Seeing the young man approaching his desk, the man stood up, grabbed his receipt book, and approached the backside of the desk.

"Good morning, young man. Was it Christopher...room 320?"

"Yes, sir...Christopher Clark." It was at that moment that Clark realized that he had accidentally used his real name when talking to the bus driver the previous day. He hoped that the small greeting with the driver wouldn't come back and haunt him. Clark knew that his identity as Clark Kent was no more so another identity was needed...that day, Christopher K. Clark was born.

As the clerk took Clark's money and wrote up his receipt, Clark scanned the counter top where his eyes came to a sudden halt. Reaching over and grabbing a copy of The Dailey Planet newspaper, he read the front page headline...'Thanks to the Unknown Hero.' Clark knew that it couldn't be about the events of the previous night. There was no way that the news could have spread that fast...at least not in time for a major newspaper such as The Dailey Planet.

Asking the clerk, "Do you happen to know anything about this?" Clark showed the man the article.

"Oh, yeah...that was what I've been watching all morning on tv. Every network in the city is covering the investigation of this incredible story. I've lived in Metropolis going on 42 years and in
that time I can't recall a story as pure in heart, with the essence of blind justice, as this one."

"So what happened?"

"It seems that an unknown person saved a local college student from being raped last night. The attack was reportedly just a few blocks from here."

"So who was the girl?"

"I don't remember saying the student was a girl? Do you know som..."

Interrupting the clerk, "You mentioned rape...I only assumed it would have been a woman."

"Sorry, its just that a reward of 1 million dollars will go to a person that discovers the identity of the hero."

"Oh my...kind of wish it was me...I would turn myself in for that kind of lute."

The clerk chuckled. "Yeah, wouldn't we all. Oh yeah, you asked about the girl. Her name was Danielle Thomas. She's a student at Metropolis University and the daughter of the school's new president. He starts his reign this semester."

"So do the police have any leads on this hero character? Do they think the rape was pre-meditated?"

"What are you...a reporter? And who do you think I am...information central?"

"I'm sorry...its just a habit I tend to get when I find something that sparks my interest. So you said she goes to MU...pretty cool...that's where I'm headed this morning. Maybe I learn more about the incident from her fellow students and possibly some of her friends."

"Well, I do know one thing that might interest you."

"You got my attention."

"Mr. Thomas...he's the first president of the university not to be on the LuthorCorp payroll. Last month, I heard that Lionel Luthor himself paid Mr. Thomas a visit at his home and it wasn't a pretty sight. Those Luthors are so corrupt...I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them. I think Thomas feels the same. That could be the reason that he has insisted that the investigation continue."

That was news that Clark could have done without.

"Thanks for the room and the information, sir."

"Good luck at school and I hope you find the information you seek."

Clark knelt to pick up his two duffle bags and started for the door before turning back towards the front desk.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened to the men that tried to rape the girl?"

"Son, they didn't try to rape her...they did rape her. The police assume the rapist that was killed was the second on the scene...possibly the third. They found two different accounts of semen so they know for sure there was previous penetration." Clark dropped his head in hearing the news. He thought he had been in time...but indeed...he had been too late.

"Don't hang your head, son. You weren't there and neither was I. We can only wish the girl recovers and can find a way to forget what must have been a horrible experience. After hearing the news this morning, I immediately called my daughter in Seattle and told her that I loved her. I feel for what the Thomas family has had to endure."

Balling his hand into a tight fist, "So one was killed? What became of the other two?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head...the unknown person must have had some special forces or martial arts background because he broke the neck of the one and hospitalized the other two. They were admitted as being in critical condition. Both of their ribcages were shattered and they sustained some major internal injuries. One slipped into a coma earlier this morning and the other has basically been on life support since being admitted to the hospital. One of the doctors said that it looked as if they were hit with something extremely hard and powerful...yet, they were only hit once."

Shaking his head from side to side, "Oh, man...how is that possible? All that damage with one hit?"

"The police spectulate that they were hit by a metal rod or something. Its the only explanation they've been able to come up with. Personally, I think it would take a Mack truck to cause that
serious of injuries to two indivduals, but I could careless in this instance. They got what they deserved...a taste of blind justice."

Staring the clerk down, "I don't believe in blind justice...just righting the wrong. Thanks again. Have a good day." The clerk shot Clark a quizzical look as the young man exited the hotel.

Clark retreated to the busy city sidewalk...much on his mind. He had finally arrived... Metropolis... the city the Luthors built...his new home.

(3)

Lex barged through the two large, oak doors, leading into his dad's penthouse like office on the top floor of the LexCorp Building.

"What is the meaning of this Lex? I'm dealing with some very important overseas accounts."

"Just thought you might like to hear.."

Cutting his son off. "I don't want to hear anything. If I lose these global accounts you will have hell to pay. Now leave...this very moment."

Lex turned and walked back to the door with his hand raised and waving a stack of paper. Before exiting, he turned back towards his work-aholic dad.

"Guess LexCorp stock don't mean much to you then." Upon hearing his son's comment, Lionel Luthor flipped off his communication monitors, thus ending his talks.

Screaming across the office floor, "What about our stocks? If you know something then spill it."

Grinning as he made his way back towards his father's desk and huge plate glass window that allowed a city wide view. "I just got the news...LexCorp just lost another 12% of their stock."

"Lex, what do you mean by another? What's going on son?"

"Two days ago, a new company bought up a few small shares of the company. At the time we didn't think anything of it, but since its initial purchase, they have bought out 4 more of our stockholders. It wasn't until this morning that we realized that there was something seriously wrong with our numbers. In three days, we have lost 32.8% of our stock. It seems there is a new player in town. And they go by 'Siminex', sir."

"Siminex? Who are they? Where did they come from? Who's backing their rise? I need this information on my desk in an hour."

Leaning over and throwing a stack of legal papers on his father's desk, "I've already seen to it. I had my personal people check into the matter. Seems we may have a mole in the company."

"If you think there is a mole...handle it!"

"Consider it done...father."

"I knew me bringing you back to Metropolis was the right thing. You will run this company someday, Lex...possibly better than I. Your day will come...you'll see."

Whispering in a soft voice while turning to leave the office, "Sooner than you think."

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the city, Clark was standing in front of a eight foot tall English brick wall, reading the contents of an embedded sign. "Welcome to Metropolis University (Where potential is reached and the strong survive.) He walked through the archway that was to the left of the sign and was awe struck at the magnificent scene before him. 2-mile, old brick drive lead its way up to the nearest building on campus. On each side of the drive, was acres and acres of well groomed grass pastures, where at the moment was being used by new and old students registering for classes and playing Frisbee and football. The place was packed with students.

Concession stands after concession stands lined either side of the drive. Free food from around the world was being served to the incoming freshman class. Representatives from fraternities,
sororities, help groups, and other groups intermingled with the new students as they registered and signed in for their dorm room assignments.

Clark looked around and couldn't believe the number of students there were. "And I thought Smallville High was big."

A blonde haired, peppy spirited girl taps him on his shoulder. "Excuse me, did I just hear you say Smallville? I have some relatives that live there. Maybe you know them."

Clark couldn't believe his luck. I needed to find a way out of his current situation. "Oh Its not what you think...I'm sorry...what's your name?"

"Sandra. Sandra Ford."

Clark's eyes grew in size at hearing the girl's name. "Sandra, that's a very pretty name. I'm Cla..I mean Christopher...Christopher Clark."

"Well, its nice to meet you, Christopher Clark. Do you know the Fords there? Maybe you went to school with my cousin, Whitney. He was their star quarterback."

"I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression. I just happen to pass by Smallville on my way to Metropolis."

"Oh, my bad. So where are you from?"

"That I can answer...from a far off place. I guess you could say that I really don't know...I go with the flow wherever I'm at, at that given moment."

"So you're a spur of the moment kind of guy? That's promising."

"Why's that...if you don't mind me asking?"

The girl's cheeks turned rosy pink. "Oh, nothing...nothing at all. I didn't mean to bother you. I'll leave you alone so you can register...you are here to register, right?"

"Most definitely."

Smiling at the much taller young man, "Then I guess I'll see you around then. Have fun getting used to the grind of things. I promise, you will be worn out after the first three days of orientation."

"I'm looking forward to it...that and orientation." The girl closed her eyes and giggled before returning her sight to Clark. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else so she walked off, still
giggling.

Clark looked over his shoulder as Sandra made her way towards a group of giggling and starry eyed girls. He couldn't help but to take in Sandra's beauty. She was about 5'4" tall, no more than 115 pounds, long curly blonde hair, had eyes that sparkled when looked upon, moderate, but not too endowed chest, and possessed a hip sway that could mesmerize any guy. Clark watched as the backside of her tight pants swayed from side to side with each step she took.

Clark's concentration was broken when he felt the weight of another person riding on his back. His immediate reaction was to grab a hold of the legs on each side of the person.

Leaning his head towards Clark's. "Name's Ray. Friends call me X-Ray...mainly cause I see all, hear all, and know all; and that my friend is the stunning Sandra Ford. She was born and raised in
Metropolis. Straight 'A' student, president of her class, assistant to the dean, close friend of the new president's daughter. End of freshman year she dumped her boyfriend for cheating on her.
Sophomore year, she dated Stephen, Tom, and Sam; all jocks, cocks, and rocks. Lets just say it wasn't her type of crowd. She dated a girl named Lisa for better part of the summer before her junior year. Since that summer she's dated a few fellows and one or two girls, but been single going on a little over a year now. She's sweet, sexy, smart, and ripe for the right fellow."

Hopping down off of Clark's back, "Now you...I know nothing about...and that is rare. My man, I've done my research and you don't exist...never have...and probably never will. So what's your
secret?"

Reaching out a friendly hand, "Name's Christopher. Christopher Clark."

"Good to meet you, man. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way...so who are you?"

Clark turned his head from side to side and leaned in and whispered in the other guy's ear. "I'm in hiding."

Whispering in back. "So, you're like in a witness protection program or something?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Righteous, dude. Well Christopher...wait up. I can't be going around calling you Christopher. Name sounds so gay. How about Chris...or better yet, Clark? That's definitely a man's name."

"Never liked that name. Brings back to many bad memories. You know, getting picked on in school and all."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I used to get bullied all the time until this one time in the fourth grade. Ever since, I've stood up for myself and have called the biggest jocks my friends."

"So what happened?"

"Well, before my dad got canned, I used to live in this small town and one day at school these two big bullies cornered me. I thought I was going to be toast and ducked my head against my body for protection, but when nothing happened I looked up and there stood this pudgy looking, curly haired kid. I turned and saw the bullies running down the hall as fast as they could. I don't know what he said or did, but they never messed with me again. A few weeks later, we moved here...to Metropolis. I never got the kid's name. And I hate to admit it, but he was at least a year younger than me."

Clark looked on with a smirk as he remembered back to that day. "So what did you say the name of the town was?"

"I didn't say, but it was a town called Smallville. You've probably never heard of it."

"No, actually...I've seen the town quite a bit. Plus, Sandra just told me that one of her cousins goes to high school there. Small world huh?"

"Yeah, you can say that again...figuratively of course. Well, Chris, we really have to come up with a better nickname than that...I guess I'll be seeing you around." Looking down at the two duffle bags on the ground. "I see a camera in there. You a photographer or something?"

"Borderline on the more something side. Did some work for a small school newspaper. I'm going to be taking journalism this semester."

"I guess I will be seeing you even more than I thought. You're looking at the editor and chief of MU's newspaper staff. Have you thought about checking us out?"

"I was contemplating swinging by there, but now that I know you run the show...I'm not so sure anymore." Ray struck Clark's arm with a blow from his fist.

"You're kidding right?"

"Yeah, man. I'll come by sometime during orientation and check things out."

"Well, I see some of my homies...check ya later." Walking away, he held his hand in pain. "What did I just hit?" Ignoring the pain, he ran over and jumped on one of his friends' back.

Clark turned a full 360 degrees taking in the layout of the land and all of the people that were probably just as nervous as he was. Spotting the registration sign-in table, Clark started walking
towards it.

An older lady, probably in her early 40's, late 30's, spoke to the young man without raising her head. "And you are?"

Quickly scanning through the registration sheets, fading page at a time, he came to his name. He wanted to make sure nothing was out of place or incorrect with his fake identity. His dad's friend came through when they needed him the most. "I'm sorry...I was just captivated by your beauty." The older lady raised her head at the comment.

"Why, thank you, young man. Name's Leslie Thomas. Nice to meet you."

"Did you say Thomas? Where have I heard that name before?"

"Probably from my husband...he's the new president of MU."

"Oh right." Thinking about the previous night. "Oh, righttt...I'm so sorry. She'll be okay."

The woman held back her tears as she realized what Clark was referring to. "I sure hope you're right, son. And thanks."

"I just wish I could have been there." He had left out the word 'sooner,' but inside he had been repeating that word since leaving his hotel this morning.

"Your name?"

"Christopher K. Clark, ma'am."

Flipping through the sheets, "Aw yes, he you are. Ahh, looks like someone has some connections. It's not often that a freshman gets a single dorm room."

Smiling at the lady. "Just luck I guess."

Clark showed his new fake id and signed where Mrs. Thomas had showed him to sign. As he started to hand the pen back to her, his instincts took over, dropping the pen, he threw his hand out to catch a football that was online for Mrs. Thomas's face. The woman stared at the young man's fingers as they engulfed the football.

"Thank you, Christopher."

"My pleasure." Clark and Mrs. Thomas turned to see some of the past and possibly new football team members looking in their direction.

Yelling back at the two. "We're sorry, Mrs. Thomas. It slipped." The jocks turned around and started laughing at the situation.

Clark wasn't amused and thought they needed to learn a lesson on manners. Looking over at the lady, he smiled before looking back in the direction of the jocks that happened to now have their backs turned. Clark lightly flipped the ball in the air and then rifled it through the air, across a large portion of the green pasture, nailing the largest jock in the back of the head. The big guy dropped like a fly. The team's football coach saw his star linebacker from a year ago collapse to the ground. Tracing the direction of the ball back to his source, he just smiled and shook his head at the tall, built young man that stood by the wife of the university's new president.

The other football players helped their buddy regain his footing. He turned and faced Clark. With an anger intense look, he started running towards Clark. The coach saw his player and immediately started yelling and running after him...hoping he was able to cut him off before getting to his target.

Quickly turning to Mrs. Thomas, "What's his name?"

"Murphy...Blake Murphy. All-Defense for the last 3 years."

"Thanks. I better move away...wouldn't want you to get hurt or anything." The woman looked stunned as Clark moved a short distance away. By now, many of the registering students could hear the coaches yelling and the grunting noise Murphy was making as he approached Clark's location. As the jock neared him, Clark stepped forward, bending his knees so he could have some absorption when he took on the jock's attack. The All-Defense Linebacker hit Clark with all his momentum and strength; yet, he was the one left lying on the edge of the grassy pasture. Looking around, Clark realized he had made a big mistake and quickly remedied the situation by slightly rocking back and forth before falling to the ground himself. Holding his neck as if he had experienced whiplash, Clark rolled to his side and slowly sat up. Murphy was sitting up as well.

Looking at Clark. "How in the hell did you just do that?" He looked like he was in a dazed state of mind.

"I now see why you were All-Defense...you hit hard."

"So, you follow the game?"

Lying through his teeth, "Only when you're winning."

Smiling at Clark, "So I guess you followed every game last season?" They both chuckled as Clark carried on with his acting and laid his head back down on the grass. The football team's coach ran to the two boys' side. "Are you two okay? Murphy! We got some talking to do."

Hanging his head, "Yes, sir." Murphy managed to get to his feet while Clark faked resting on the ground. Looking down at Clark. "See you around, kid."

Smirking back at the hard-nosed jock. "Back at ya!" Coach Reynolds walked off with one of his star players, giving him a piece of his mind.

Before Clark realized it, a small, smooth skinned hand reached out to him. Following the arm upwards, he saw that it belonged to Ms. Ford.

"Can I give you a hand?" Clark reached out, accepting her hand, and allowed the young woman to think that she lifted him to his feet. "Thanks, Sandra!"

"My friends call me Sandy...you can do the same."

"Then Sandy it is."

"Are you okay? Did Blake do any serious long-term damage? He's known for that you know?"

"No, no damage. You probably wouldn't believe me, but I've been hit harder and have lived to see another day. I'm talking to you aren't I?"

"Yes, you are. CK, you are something else."

"CK? I like it. Why not CC though?"

"Sounds too much like a girl's name." Clark laughed as he nodded his head in agreement.

Mrs. Thomas approached Clark and thanked him for saving her life. She still didn't know how he was able to react so fast and stop the leather pigskin ball from striking his face. "Thank you so much, young man. I just wanted to say that to you and to mention that the tour you signed up for began about fifteen minutes earlier. They are probably already at the school. I guess you need to sign up for the next tour."

Stepping back over to the registration table, Clark retrieved his duffle bags from the ground and walked back over to Mrs. Thomas and the helpful girl. "Its quite alright. I can just run and catch up with them."

Sandra tapped him on the arm. "You do know its right at two miles to the school?"

"No, I didn't, but that really doesn't matter. I'll be there in a flash. It was nice to meet both of you and hopefully none of us will be strangers. Well, I best be off." The two females watched as
Clark started running down the road.

Turning to each other and speaking in unison. "He's fast too!"

Clark knew the limits of what speeds he could run in public, but even that speed would have left most runners in the dust. He gradually increased his speed when no one was in his immediate sight. And then it happened. Someone passed him. The shock brought Clark to a stop as he watched the runner disappear out of sight. He shook his head and started back towards the direction of the tour group. As he neared the group, he spotted the same black jacket that the guy that just passed him was wearing.

Walking over to the young man. "You know...you're pretty fast."

The guy turned and gave Clark a confused look. "Sorry, no idea what you're talking about."

"You passed me back there on the drive. Actually you flew by me. Just wanted to praise your ability that's all."

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." The jacket wearing young man couldn't figure out how Clark was able to see him. No one has ever seen him in the past.

"Name's Christo...CK, for short."

"Barry Watson. 18. Central City."

"Same. Well, at least in age. Nice to meet you." It seemed to Clark that there was something more to this Watson character.

"Likewise, I'm sure. Now would you mind shutting up so I can hear the tour guide? Thanks." Barry turned his attention back to the guide.

Clark couldn't seem to concentrate on the speaker so he let his eyes wander. Deciding to take a peek into the school, he concentrated his vision on a focal point on the stone exterior and waited for the walls to fade out, but to his amazement he wasn't able to penetrate their surface. "Lead," he thought to himself. Feeling disappointed, he decided to entertain himself by the one thing that usually passed time pretty good. He started scanning the crowd of young men and women, fading in on skirts, blouses, pants, dresses, and anything else that seemed to interest him. He may have looked the part of a grown man, but he still had the desires of an adolescent teenager.

(4)

Two days after Clark's arrival at Metropolis University, he was walking through what most would call the hive or major hangout for the students...the student's commons area. He walked among his fellow students and observed their daily activities; some sat reading or talking with friends, others awaited their food from the three separate cafes. There was also a gaming section where some students were playing video games, shooting pool, and playing ping-pong. He had found the gathering and meeting place of the masses...at least while classes weren't in session.

Moving about the huge, yet crowded area, Clark spotted a copy of the Daily Planet lying across the back of a love seat. Picking it up, his sight was drawn to the front-page storyline, 'Unknown Hero...No More. MU Student Saved by Fellow MU Student.' The heading of the article intrigued the young man enough for him to read the entire article. By the time the last period was noticed, he bent his head down in disgust.

He jumped over the back of the couch and flopped down in the cushioned seat. Slumping down, he rested his head against the soft, yet firm cushion and thought through some things. He carried on an inner battle with his self as he tried to relax. "How could they have known? What gave it away? Was there a witness? All that doesn't matter...the fact of the matter is...I was too late. I thought I had saved her, but it wasn't meant to be. If only I was faster. If I could replay the day I wouldn't bother with the two pesky men and the bus storage compartment. I would hear the girl's cries earlier and be able to stop any of the abuse. Why...why did she have to die? Life just isn't fair. First I have to leave my friends and family so I can be who my parents believe I'm supposed to be. A do-gooder...righter of wrong...savior of the weak...a helper, a friend, a hero of sorts. And
what do I do on my first attempt in the big city...I let a girl get raped, beaten, and die. Why me? Why must I carry the curse that follows these abilities? Why must I be the one...that's different?"

Clark's attention was rattled when he heard a loud noise coming in his direction. Wiping the few tears from his eyes, he was able to see clearly, what looked to be a loud mob of students coming his way. He could hear congratulatory and mixed words coming from the crowd that seemed to
exponentially increase as they marched across the carpeted commons area.

Not able to pick out any individual comments, he just accepted what they had to say. Words were running together and some just not making sense, but he understood what they where all trying to express. "Congratulations, Chris. Great job man. So you were the one to save the president's daughter. Outstanding. Yeah, dude, awesome job. Single handedly took on 3 guys. So how does it feel to be a hero? How does it feel to have that much strength? Does your power come from eating Wheaties? Are you on steroids? Weights...do you work out or lift weights? What about the dumpster...you put a man's head through the metal...can you explain that?" Clark was overwhelmed by the questions.

A girl from the back of the mob yelled out above the rest, "Do how does it feel to be a hero...that murdered not one, but two people in the night in questioning?" Clark scanned the crowd and spotted the girl; she had on a hat and stared at the floor. Clark approached her not knowing what his response, whether vocal or physical, would be. The girl raised her head as his brown, worn out, dusty, work and everyday boots came into sight. As she lifted her head, Clark froze in horror as the girl spoke.

"So how does it feel hero...knowing that you let me die?"

Clark's eyes immediately flew open; waking from the terrible nightmare. A moment later, with his concentration broken, he crashed to his bed. Floating in mid air during time of sleep had become a norm for the Kansas resident farm boy. A cold sweat swept over his body, causing his to shiver and shake all over. As he regained his senses and sat up, leaning his head against the headboard, he looked around his new surroundings; watching how the outside campus lights played shadow games with the darkness within his room. He was tired and warn out, but not from what most teenagers his age was used to. He had his own personal inner battles to deal with along with understanding his purpose and responsibilities in life and the people around him as well. He soon fell back to sleep as his nerves and tension descended; his head still resting against the bed's wooden headboard, while his body continuously extracted sweat. His breathing fell back into place as he pushed the current events back in his mind and brought forward the memories and good times that he and his Smallville friends had hanging out at the Beanery, the Talon, and the Torch's office. Clark slowly let a smile form on his face before falling over on the mattress and into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Clark opened his eyes to bright beating sunlight. It wasn't common for him not to be woken up by his parents or the rooster on the farm. He was alone and forced to live life as he saw fit...as a man...as a mature man. Clark looked around his white walled, hard flat tile floored room, all he saw was just that...and two duffle bags. He knew he had to find a job so he could afford some luxuries...such as a dresser, hamper, and more clothes would be a good thing to have, etc.

The young man walked over to the vanity and splashed water on his face, before turning and finding his pants, which he put on. As buttons were being snapped, a loud noise caused Clark to snap his head towards the door. He ran over and threw it open. He beamed with a huge smile as he watched the guy from orientation, Ray, get hit on by a group of half dressed young women. The chase carried them down the hall, past Clark's room. Ray was having the time of his life, while running like his life depended it on it. One of the girls stopped at seeing Clark's shirtless, muscled body. She looked familiar.

"Hey CK, remember me? Sandra...from orientation day."

It dawned on him who she was. "I'm sorry. Didn't recognize you with the ball cap on and not much else."

"Yeah, that's dorm life around here...especially when X-Ray is around. He's a ball of fun, but sometimes he goes to far. If this bothers you..." she pointed at her bare breasts, "...I can go. Or maybe you have something I can cover myself with?"

"I would like to consider myself as a gentleman...won't you please come in?" He moved to the side and swept his hand front of him as if inviting into his dorm room.

"Ah, how sweet. Gramps was wrong...there are still a few gentlemen in this world." She walked over and sat on the edge of Clark's unmade bed while Clark retrieved a plain red colored t-shirt from one of his duffle bags.

Looking around the room, "So do you like live out of those bags? Like where's the rest of your stuff?"

"At the moment, what you see is what you get." She put the shirt on while Clark tried to advert his eyes.

"Okay, you can look now. I can't believe it...a half naked girl comes to your door and I get nothing, not even a slight blush. And on top of it, you turn your head away? My, there sure aren't many like you around, CK."

"You have no idea how true that statement really is. So why were all you ladies chasing after Ray?"

"First off, I wouldn't call him Ray. To his friends, it's X-Ray. And he spoke to you...and rode your back...and spoke to you again...therefore he already considers you a friend whether your feelings are mutual or not. Now that is out of the way...the twerp stole our bras from the shower room. He got another girl's panties as well. Don't worry; she stayed in the shower room. One of the other girls went to get her some bottoms while we took off after the X man. He's a slippery devil, but I wouldn't trade him as a friend for anything. And smart like you've never seen before. He has a photographic memory that won't stop. He just doesn't like flaunting his ideas and genius ness around to other people...only a few of us really know him."

"So that's how he knew so much about you? You two are pretty close then?"

"Just friends if you're asking me what I think you're asking me."

"Not sure what you think I'm asking you without asking you, but I don't think that is what I'm really asking."

Cutting to the chase, "Christopher Clark, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

Shaking his head at an accelerated speed, "No! Oh, no. I just met you. I was just going to ask if you two usually hung out together? Ray...ugghhh...X-Ray jumped all over telling how free you were and about your history of dating at this school."

"He did what? I'm going to kill that punk!" Using her hands, she mocked a strangling.

"Its okay. No harm was done. You're beautiful and all, but I don't know you...the real you. I was thinking if you did hangout with X-Ray that maybe I would hangout with you guys as well...if your group would allow that."

"The day my group of girls don't allow a handsome, charming young man to handout with the group...is the day I smother myself in my own secretions. Gross I know...but I think you get my point."

"Loud and clear. So other than chasing after Mr. X, what are some of your other plans for today?"

"I'm going to the hospital. A friend of mine is being let out today and I want to be there when it happens."

"You wouldn't mean the Thomas girl, would you?"

"Yeah, how did you know abo...oh right, the newspapers."

"Well that and talking to X-Ray at orientation. He said you two were like best friends."

"Yeah, we're cool like that. Would you like to accompany me?"

Hesitating a bit, "I don't know. Its not like I know her. I would be intruding."

"No you wouldn't. I'll just tell her you are my date. In a way, you would be."

Thinking about all the reasons he shouldn't go, "Its a date then. When you leaving?"

"As soon as I get back to my own room and get changed into something more presentable. Guess I'll see you ten?"

"I'll be ready when you are." He opened the door to his room and watched as she started down the hall. Turning back, she removed his t-shirt and slung back at Clark's face. "Wouldn't want you to think I was trying to steal it or anything." She smiled and walked off; once again baring her chest for the world. Clark leaned his head against the doorjamb and fought with the idea of scanning through the rest of her body. He turned and re-entered his room and fell flat across his bed, face first.

Sometime later in the morning, "Chris, thanks for agreeing to come with me to see Rachel. I really don't know what to say to her. What do you say to a girl that's recently been.."

Cutting her off in mid-sentence, "You be her friend. I'm sure that is what she needs more than anything at the moment." The two walk side by side as they enter through the last pair of swinging double doors. "Her room is up here on the right."

"Chris, how did you know that?"

Thinking on his feet, "I scanned the nurse's patient enrollment listing while you were signing us in and then that sign back there said rooms 302 to 305 was on the next right. Her room is 304."

"You did all that while still carrying on a conversation with me...hmmm...you're becoming even more of a mystery, CK. And I love a good mystery."

Sensing what Sandra had meant by her last comment, he quickly changed the subject. "We're here. Room 304."

"That we are."

Clark and Sandra walk into the white hospital room where Rachel is still laying in bed and her parents are on either side; dad watching television and mom getting her going home clothes out of a small handheld bag.

Mrs. Thomas got up and walked over to the two new entries. "Sandra, my darling, its so good to see you again. I'm glad you came. Rachel will be so glad to see you when she wakes up."

Whispering back, "Why has she not woken up yet?"

"Doctors gave her some medicine a while ago for some last minute tests and we were instructed that it would be best if we didn't try and wake her."

Grabbing a hold of the older ladies hand, "Can we talk to her?" The mention of we brought Mrs. Thomas to realize that Sandra wasn't alone. Looking over the younger girl's shoulder, "Christopher?"

"Yes, ma'am. Good memory you have there."

"In my husband's line of work...you have to have a good memory to survive. I'm glad you came. I remember you saying you didn't know my daughter, but if not for her...then for Sandra. I know this isn't going to be easy for her or Rachel."

"Why would you say such a thing?"

"Sandra didn't tell you?" Looking back over her shoulder, she watched as Sandra knelt by the bed and started whispering to her sleeping daughter. Turning back towards Clark, "They went to a welcome back party the night the attack occurred. Sandra didn't feel like staying so a friend of hers took her home, but Rachel stayed. She phoned us, but our cell phone answering service took a message. I guess my precious thought it was safe enough to walk home alone."

Blurting out without thinking, "At that time of day, it should have been."

"Huhhh...what time of day are you referring? No one, not even the police, have mentioned the time the attack took place. How do you know that? Is there something you're not telling me Mr. Clark?"

Once again thinking quick on his toes, "No, ma'am. I was thinking from a guy's point of view. For a guy, walking anywhere by yourself is pretty safe. I'm sorry for making you think I knew something. I really should count to ten before I speak sometimes." He reached over and gave her a hug before seeing Sandra motioning him over towards the bed.

Kneeling down beside his new friend, "CK, this is Rachel." She brought his hand to touch Rachel's. "And Rachel, this is CK."

At feeling the touch of the young man's hand, the girl screamed out. "It Was You!" Even in a sleeping state of mind, Rachel grabbed a hold of Clark's arm and wrapped it around her body. All the while crying out, "Protect Me...Like You Did Before." Besides the girl's own voice...the room
fell silent. Parents and friend looked down as the young man, now willingly encircling the sleeping girl with his arms.

Whispering in her ear, "It will be okay, Rachel. I won't let anything happen to you again. Mark my word. I was late once, but never again." He leaned in closer giving the peck on the cheek before turning towards the Thomas's and Sandra. They stared back at him with looks of confusion written across their faces.

Before Clark could say anything, Sandra reached out and slapped him across the face and then ran out of the hospital room. Tears were melting from her eyes as she raced down the hall. Clark was left there with only Rachel's parents. Mrs. Thomas tried to hold back her tears, but was unable. She walked over and put her arms around the young man and hugged him close to her body. Mr. Thomas soon joined the two in a group appreciative hug.

Mr. Thomas spoke first. "So you were my daughter's hero?"

Clark knew he had lied to everyone from the beginning and felt it was time for some truth. "Yes, sir. I'm the one that fought off the men. I took your daughter to the hospital." Not able to tell her parent's the whole truth, "Only reason I left her so quickly was because I had left my duffle bags back in the alley. The bags and content within them are my only possessions. I'm sorry for not coming out and telling you Mrs. Thomas the other day at orientation, but I don't think what I did should be considered as an act of heroism. I didn't do anything special...I lent a hand to a girl that needed help. I only hope that if that had been me on that alley floor, someone would have done the same for me."

The Thomas's melted in tears as they hugged Clark even harder. A few minutes later, another set of hands joined in the hug; Sandra now had her arms in on the hug. As the hug faded and everyone pulled away, Sandra pushed forward planting her lips upon Clark's. A minute later she released her grasp and pulled away herself. The un-expecting kiss had startled Clark, thus freezing him in place. It took the weak skinny arms that wrapped around his neck from behind to get his blood flowing again.

Rachel leaned into Clark's ear. "I owe you my life. I don't know how I know, but I know it was you; your touch...so caring. I never saw you, but I could never forget the warmth of that touch. Thank you, stranger. Thank you." She pulled herself into a full sitting position before turning
Clark's face towards her own. For the first time, she was able to look into the eyes of the one that saved her life. He was handsome and had a big, cute smile. She thought she was literally seeing an angel. Leaning in and again wrapping her arms his neck, she pulled Clark down on top of her body as she lay back on the mattress. Her lips were now searching out his as the kiss went on and on. Mr. Thomas had to physically separate the two. It was obvious to the onlookers that neither Clark nor Rachel wanted the kiss to be broken. Sandra couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"So Rachel, you're not even out of the hospital and you're already hitting on my new guy. Things never change." Rachel moved her head to the side so she could see her friend. Holding out her arms, Rachel invited Sandra to join in. Together they both assaulted young Clark Kent's lips. Mr. Thomas watched the reaction of his wife.

"Honey, if you value our marriage...don't you even think about it." The older adults both laughed at what was unfolding before them.

Looking back at his wife, "Guess our daughter must be feeling a lot better." Laughter is what was needed at the moment and laughter is what room 304 provided.