Similis

Clark reckoned that he had just had the most awful day ever. As he sped home, he reflected that everything had gone wrong today. From the moment he stepped off the bus, no, make that FELL off the bus, in front of the majority of the school, his entire day had been a series of unmitigated disasters.



Chloe had been ragging him constantly about being late with his article for the Torch and he had spilled a can of drink over his leg right in front of her, giving her even more ammunition with which to humiliate him.



At lunchtime Lana had stalked right past him because of something someone else had told her, which had resulted in Clark banging into one of the refectory tables and upsetting everything and everyone on it.



Then later on in the afternoon, one of the younger boys had started yelling in the corridor about Clark having a retard for a brother. Clark had reacted particularly badly to that jibe.



"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have picked him up by his ankles and dangled him over the stair rail, but gees… The little grunt was asking for it!" He told himself, keeping only a vague half-eye on the countryside flashing past him. Finally the unfamiliar landscape flagged his attention.



"Oh no!" No wonder it was unfamiliar. He had to have overshot by at least 150 miles! He knew roughly where he was, as he had memorised every route map in the country, and recognised pretty quickly that he was currently quite a way from home. Reluctantly bringing his forward momentum down, Clark turned and determinedly retraced his steps.







"You're late, Clark." Jonathan was not pleased. He looked up from his position on the floor, half under the disembowelled tractor, "And your mother was out here earlier telling me how she had the school office on the phone for more than ten minutes about what happened today. I thought we had this all out a while back? You do not pick on kids who are smaller than you."



"That rules out pretty much the whole county!" Clark grumbled sullenly.



Returning from the drawers across the barn with a hand full of spanners, Haze gave a small smile. Maybe it was because Haze was pleased to see him, or maybe he had found Clark's reply amusing, but whatever the reason, Clark was suddenly seething.



"Don't you dare, Haze, it wasn't funny!" He snapped. "Since you're being home educated you don't have to go to that school, and at least part of this was because of you!"



The smile vanished and Haze regarded him with wide eyes. 'Me? ' The message filtered through to Clark.



"Yeah. The kid was calling you a retard. Was I just supposed to let that go? Huh?" Clark blurted, feeling stupid the minute he said it, but too angry to stop himself. Of course none of this was really Haze's fault, Clark knew that deep-down, but he was so frustrated that his temper simply would not allow reason to win through.



'You know answer.' Haze signed, slipping the spanners in his pockets to free up both his hands. 'One stupid kid not important. You in trouble, and Parents angry.'



"See?" Jonathan said, watching the silent exchange and sounding unreasonably smug to Clark, despite being stretched out flat on his back, covered in oil and god only knew what else, with half of his body hidden under their old dented tractor. "Haze is mature enough to understand that what kids say is not something to get riled about." He waved a dismissive hand. "C'mon, Haze. Let's get this mess tidied out of the way, and then we can go clean up and have us some dinner."



It just isn't fair that Haze is getting to stay out of school because no one knows what to do with him! Or even if he's actually of school age any more! Maybe I'm not either? After all, what does anyone really know about that? Clark thought moodily.



Just as he was turning to walk off and dump his school bag, Clark's dreadful luck struck again. The end of his elbow caught the front wheel of the tractor, unbalancing it and sending it lunging outwards toward the barn wall.







"Dad!" While Clark grabbed hold of his father and slid Jonathan out of harm's way, Haze was also reacting. Holding out his arms he used his curious gifts to halt the downward motion of the vehicle and to float it back up, leaving it just resting on the blocks. Evidently not trusting them to bear the full weight, he turned to Clark.



Clark felt the now familiar touch in his mind. "Dad, Haze says he really feels that this stand can't be made any safer, but that he can rig up something that will be." He relayed.



Jonathan let out a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Guess you were right about that axle-jack, Haze…" He agreed. "I can't say you didn't try to warn me earlier, except that I was so damn sure that this would be enough."



"Haze wants you to be safely out of the way though while he's setting it up." Clark translated.



"Okay, Haze," Jonathan gave a curt nod, moving over to the stairs. "You do what you think best. We really can't afford any more broken tractors."







Clark cringed. Would his Dad never get over rubbing his nose in the problems that the sunspots had caused? If only the insurance company would pay out they wouldn't need this old wreck, but Clark had heard his parents discussing how the claim was dragging on, and on.



Concentrating on negating the weight of the tractor while simultaneously reaching down into the ground for what he wanted, Haze was momentarily oblivious to the other youth's inner turmoil.



Clark watched Haze clench both fists, drawing on his own inner abilities. With a soft hissing sound, sections of the dirt floor under the tractor seeped upward, cradling the axles and trickling up and around the undercarriage. Leaning closer Haze crouched, running his hands over the soil and changing it. Where his fingers passed, thick ribs of gleaming metal appeared.



"Should have let you do that in the first place, Haze." Jonathan watched the uncanny transmutation progress with barely a flicker.



Haze shrugged unconcernedly. It evidently didn't bother him either way.



"I didn't expect anyone to go shoving things around though." Jonathan continued.



"I didn't do it on purpose!" Clark snapped. "Gees, everyone has been on my case today!"



"Maybe it's you?" Jonathan countered equally testily. "You've been in trouble at school, and it seems like you've barely been home three seconds and we've nearly had an accident here too. Lucky that Haze was around."



Wincing, Haze looked distinctly uncomfortable.



"I would have got it!" Clark promised. "I didn't do that on purpose, I just jogged it with my elbow!"



"I'm sorry." Jonathan sighed.







Clark was about to say that he was too, when he realised that the comment was not meant for him, instead his Dad was looking at Haze as he spoke.



"I shouldn't have said any of that in front of you, Haze, but it's been a long day, and I'm a lot more tired than I realised. I think we'll knock this on the head until tomorrow, okay?" Jonathan patted Haze on the shoulder and headed wearily off towards the house, leaving the two youths standing alone in the barn.



'Bad day? ' Haze supposed, communicating purely mentally with Clark, now that the elder Kent was already vanishing around the corner. Pulling the spanners from his pocket, the other youth opened his hand and let them go. Instead of falling, the spanners whizzed across the barn and back into their proper places in the drawers. The tool cabinet shut behind them with hardly a sound.



"Totally crap." Clark agreed out loud. Normally he would have admired Haze's smooth control, but for some reason even that narked him today.



'Sorry. ' Haze put a warm hand on his shoulder.



And Clark knew that Haze was really, genuinely upset that Clark had had such a lousy day, and that Jonathan had gotten angry with him, and he also felt that Haze understood totally that he hadn't meant for the tractor to get unbalanced, and that Clark hadn't really been angry with Haze and that the angel was not holding a grudge about it.



Even so, Clark could not quite banish the tiny little speck of irritation that still lurked just under his skin. When had he begun to feel as if he needed to compete with Haze? He wasn't sure, but he did know that he didn't like the feeling.



"Yeah." He said, shrugging away from Haze's hand and scuffing his toes along the ground as he headed indoors to get ready for dinner. No doubt dinner was going to turn out to be another parents-versus-Clark torture session. Sometimes his life really sucked…



* * * *



"Mom!" Clark knew he was whining, but he didn't seem to be able to stop that either this evening. "I already apologised to Dad, why do I have to be grounded for the weekend? I had plans."



"Clark." Martha gave him the don't-argue-you'll-only-make-it-worse look. "We are not going to discuss this at the dinner table with your poor father and Haze trying to eat dinner. They have both had a very long day, and they deserve to eat in peace."



Like I don't? Sullenly, Clark mechanically chewed and swallowed the rest of his dinner. He didn't even care what it was; he couldn't taste it at all, because of the righteous indignation welling up inside him.



As soon as dinner was over, Clark retreated straightaway to the safety of his Fortress of Solitude officially to do his homework, but mostly to be alone and brood. However even that little comfort was apparently going to be denied him, as almost immediately Jonathan reappeared on the lower floor and started noisily pulling drawers open and generally clattering around.



"Clark?" He called up the stairs.



"Yes?" Clark hung over the banister, frowning.



Jonathan glanced up with a steely look in his eye. "Don't take that tone of voice with me, son." He warned. "I was only going to ask you if you put the 5/8th wrench back after you used it last week?"



"Of course I did!" Clark practically stomped down onto the first landing. "I always put the tools away when I'm done with them." He cast a quick glance around with his X-ray vision. "It isn't there now." He said unnecessarily since his Dad already knew that. "I thought you weren't working any more tonight?"



"I wasn't." Jonathan said tersely. "Your mother needs a bolt tightened and I need the 5/8th wrench for it."



"Doesn’t Haze have the wrench?" Clark grumbled. After all Haze suddenly has almost everything else around here in his pocket, he thought moodily. "How come you aren't asking Haze to tighten it?" He added, the anger bubbling to the surface again.



"I would, if Haze weren't in the bath. I doubt if he's got it with him in there." His father replied. "Actually, it's a fiddly job, but you could probably do it with your fingers if you were careful."



"Oh, so you don't think I'm even reliable enough to be a replacement for your toolkit?" Clark had just about lost it by this point. Determined to confront his Dad about the unfairness of his current treatment, he pounded down the lower stairs too fast to stop himself, only to slam right into Haze.







Haze gestured that he was fine and that there was no harm done but Jonathan was livid. "Clark!" He barked. "What is wrong with you today? I've never known you so uncontrolled! You have to get yourself in check before someone gets really hurt. That could have just as easily been your mother you just barrelled into!"



Knowing that his father was right, Clark felt the heat of shameful tears in his eyes, or was that the first glow of heat vision? Not here in the barn! Frantic, he shut his eyes and tried very hard to get his roiling emotions under control. A pair of hands settled on his shoulders, but he shrugged them off.



"You don't really want me!" He shouted, pulling away from his father. "So why don't you just leave me alone?!"



Something cold washed over him, something unnervingly cold. Startled, Clark snapped his eyes open, to find himself staring directly at Haze.



'You. Me. Talk.' Haze signed.



"Nothing to talk about." Clark growled. "You got everyone here under your spell. You aren't charming me too!"



"Clark!" Jonathan's voice cut across the barn. "You apologise this instant. Haze has done nothing but help all of us ever since he got here, and you have no call to bite his head off like that."



"I agree with your father." Martha chimed in from the doorway. "Haze was just finished persuading me that we should give you another chance to put over your side of things, but if this is the way that you are going to be with someone who is totally on your side, then I can't see how you could have been any better in school!"







Clark tried to push past Haze and storm out of the door, but even as he moved he could feel the air around him thickening. Furious, he exerted more of his strength, feeling the resistance building as he strained to free himself.



Haze narrowed his eyes and gestured for Martha and Jonathan to get clear.



"You've turned my parent's against me!" Clark yelled, drawing on the full strength of his anger to wrench himself forcibly out of Haze's control. He stalked back across the room and took hold of Haze around his biceps, lifting the other lad into the air and shaking him. He knew it was hurting Haze, but that was the point, wasn't it?



Finally Haze actively retaliated. The cloth in the shirtsleeves turned a sickly glowing green under Clark's fingers. Screaming in agony Clark instantly dropped his 'twin' and dropped to the floor.



Pulling off the still-glowing shirt, Haze balled it up and tossed it to Jonathan. Snapping his hand around Clark's wrist before Clark's normal strength could return, Haze hauled him to his feet. Dragging him a short distance away from his parents, Haze released his hold and stood, arms folded, simply staring at Clark.



"I'm stronger than you!" Clark warned him, trying to master his heaving stomach. "And when I do get my strength back, I'm going to make you so sorry you did this."



'No. You. Won't.' Haze signed. He looked to Clark's parents. 'Time. Me & Him. Go. Talk?'



"He certainly needs something to snap him out of this." Jonathan decided. "Haze, just be careful…"



"Oh, yeah, what are you going to do? Smack me? Like I'm a little kid?" Clark taunted, way beyond sense at this point and running on pure adrenaline. "Thought what kids say didn't matter to you?"



"You. Not. Kid. Clark." Haze signed. "You. Big." He pointed to himself, sliding the flat of his hand over top of his head to show that they were the same height.



"Yeah, I'm as big as you." Clark growled, still fuming. "So what? Maybe you think that makes you my equal? You're kidding yourself if you think you're more than just a second rate copy!"



Haze shrugged, and then gestured. One small flick of his forefinger along his thumb and Clark was sent hurtling out through the open barn doors and bouncing across the driveway.







Skidding over the ground on his backside like a skimming stone skipping over a frozen pond, Clark slammed into the fence on the other side with such force that he went right on through it, taking a section of board with him in the process. When he finally stopped moving, he was more than halfway across the field and surrounded by splinters. Dismayed but still seething, he glared back along the torn-up grass and dirt, seeing a very definite 'breadcrumb trail' leading all the way to the boundary fence.



He did that to me with just one flick! The anger began to alternate with flashes of worry.



Walking through the gap in the fencing, Haze waved one hand and the shattered boards drew themselves back into place. He fixed Clark with a dark stare as he stalked toward him along the trail of destruction, restoring everything to order as he passed.



For the first time since the two had met, Clark found he could not sense any hint of Haze's mental presence. His attempts at probing for the other youth's mind met only a stony blankness that resisted even his best efforts.



"What are you going to do with me?" He blurted, suddenly wondering just what Haze was truly capable of? And what was going to happen now? What had he gotten himself into?



'Show. You.' Haze signed, evidently not intending to let his guard down for a second.



Clark tried to blur into speed, only to realise that despite the distance he had travelled, Haze had never relaxed the uncanny grip he had on Clark. Trapped at human speed, Clark tried to roll and evade Haze's reaching hands, but it was a futile effort.



Snagging an ankle, Haze shrugged his wings out, and leapt up into the darkening sky, hauling Clark unceremoniously into the air with him.



"Haaaze!" Clark yelled in fright, as the ground rushed away from under him at an alarming speed.







'Not as weak as you thought?' Haze's voice appeared in Clark's head, just as his dinner threatened to make a quick visit back into his mouth.



"No!" Clark swallowed hard, and shouted back over the rushing wind. "But I'm not going to let you get away with this. I'll just wait for the right time."



'Good strategy.' Haze decided, powering effortlessly up toward the distant clouds. 'Wrong person.' He tightened his grip. 'Did you remember that I don't really sleep? You'll need to learn to guard your intentions a lot more closely than that, if you're going to have any hope of surprising anyone.'



Panicked, Clark watched as the ground vanished away below him. Not for the first time, he wondered why he hadn't yet rediscovered how to fly?



Frantically Clark tried to think of another way out of this predicament; however there didn't seem to be one, at least not one that he was able to find while hanging upside down and being dragged skywards. Up here in the air he was totally at Haze's mercy. He could immediately see that any attempt at retaliation now was likely to result in his being dropped out of the sky like a stone.



Would being invulnerable be enough to save him, if he plunged earthward from this high?



'You assume that I'm weak purely because I lack your full physical strength; however you forget that you have weaknesses too...' Haze communicated.



Clark realised that this link was very much one-way: the more-experienced angel was firmly in control. He’s not making any mistakes with this.



Haze winged on upward, powering through two distinct cloud layers before taking them both out into bright emptiness. While the angel seemed indifferent to the moisture dripping off him, Clark fought not to squirm as the wetness coalesced around his exposed shin, trickling right along his leg and even seeping into his crotch.



By now Clark’s clothes were drenched with water, the soaked fabric clung to him uncomfortably, and he was very much aware that if he moved so much as a muscle wrong, Haze might view it as a counterattack, and drop him right there and then.



'You're depending too much on what you already have,’ The angel told him. ‘It's what a person knows about what they do NOT have that makes them truly strong.'



"Crap!" Clark snapped at him. "You aren't going to psych me out with that Zen bullshit!"



'Maybe not, ' Haze suggested. 'We'll see, shan't we?'



"I don't have any weaknesses up here!" Clark yelled, his words being blown back at him by the speed of their ascent. "There's no kryptonite for miles! And no magic! And the cold doesn't bother me."



'There is very little air either as we go higher, and you do need to breathe.' Haze reminded him. 'That is not one of my weaknesses. And you have been wasting what air you did have by shouting it at me.'



Shocked by the calm logic of the revelation, Clark began to understand how incredibly exposed and vulnerable he really was. Fear painted a bitter taste in his mouth, even more unpleasant than the traces of bile from his rebelling stomach.



Frost crystals made a crackling glaze on Clark’s exposed skin where the water from the cloud layers had slicked over his face and hands in passing. His discomfort multiplied as the water in his soaked clothes hardened rapidly into ice. He was also beginning to recall what Haze had told him about what his life had been like before becoming a 'Clark look-alike'. The angel was not a soft opponent, not only was he self-reliant and tough, he had also spent a lifetime in regular combat…



Why did I have to pick on Haze? Why couldn't I have just gone for a really long run or something?







For the next few minutes Haze continued drawing him relentlessly upwards, until Clark felt like his lungs would burst from holding onto the last puffs of his breath, however it rapidly ceased to be a problem.



At the very instant that Haze let go of his ankle, Clark discovered that, despite running low on air, he was still perfectly able to scream.



Plummeting down, from however far up they were, immediately cleared Clark's head of all unnecessary thoughts and put his problems into crystal clear perspective. He also lost contact with his dinner after the first few seconds. At that precise moment he recalled exactly how much he hated heights, and at least part of the reason why.



"Haze!" He screamed, figuring that he had little else left to lose by it at this stage. "You bastard!" The flying ability he had used while under the red kryptonite would have come in so handy right now, but Clark still could not find how to access it. Below him the ground was now clearly visible and heading up at him at a terrifying speed.



Just as the ground was getting close enough for Clark to count exactly how many daisies there were per square inch on that particular patch of grass, something latched around his ankle again and swung him back up into the sky in a broad loop.



'I am neither illegitimate, nor was I accidentally conceived. If you're going to insult someone at least try to be either accurate or a little more creative. ' Haze told him, ascending ruthlessly back into the clouds. 'You have another weakness. You rely on a combination of vision and balance, in order to determine your orientation and location.'







They entered the cloud mass and for the next few seconds, Clark was spun around and thrown, travelling up and down inside the thick whiteness, until he was so disorientated that he could not have reliably guessed which end of his body his feet were on, had it not been for the distinct ache as the blood centrifuged in his toes and arches.



He frantically tried his x-ray vision, but there was nothing up there to focus on, and at those moments when his eyes did happen upon Haze, the angel was moving around him too fast for that to be of any help. If anything, focussing on Haze only made the nausea worse. Automatically Clark vomited again, even though by now there was practically nothing left to eject.



Over what seemed like forever, but could not have been, Clark fell, was caught, screamed in panic, fell and was lifted again until his head ached and his voice was hoarse. Miserable, frightened, and thoroughly sorry, he finally stopped struggling and let himself drop silently. Maybe if he hit hard enough he wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again?



Strong arms snatched him out of the empty air, and wrapped around him, holding him close.



"Why catch me?" Clark whispered, throat raw.



'Because I love you.' The angel told him.



"Then why …" Clark wanted to say 'why do all that to me', but realised that Haze already knew the rest of the question. "You hurt me …" He protested weakly. Haze tutted and shook his head. They both knew that was not quite true either.



"My feelings." Clark said at last.



'And you weren't trying to be as hurtful as possible to me? Or to the Kents?' Haze asked. 'You totally shocked Jonathan.'



"I'm sorry, Haze. Really." Clark met the other's eyes and held the contact, showing Haze that he did truly mean it. "I was just being stupid. It won't happen again."



'You're young still, Clark, as am I. We have to expect certain imbalances at times, but neither of us can afford to let our emotions really rule our actions.' Haze held him close. 'We're both too powerful for that.'



"I never realised how strong you were." Clark admitted, after a warm hand healed his throat and soothed his remaining fears.



'I was injured when we met. It was your strength that saved me then.' Haze reminded him. 'I don't share your particular abilities, and in certain ways you are physically superior to me, but you shouldn't assume that having those gifts will protect you, or that others can't negate them. Clark, a short study of you will enable anyone with brains and patience to determine your weaknesses.'



'I see that now.' Clark realised that Haze had done more than shake him out of his mood; he had given Clark an object lesson in exactly how Clark's weaknesses could be used against him. "I almost believed you were really going to let me fall." He admitted.



Turning his head slightly, Haze kissed Clark's forehead tenderly. 'You goofball! If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn't have devoted so much energy to keeping you whole.' He told him. 'If I judged you truly unreachable and a danger to others, I would have stopped your heart back in the barn, and ended the conflict before you could put the ordinary people in this world at risk.'



"You could really do that?" Clark stared, wide-eyed at his friend. Would he really hurt me?







It was a frightening thought, but in a way it was also strangely comforting to know that if Clark were truly to run amok, then there would be at least one substantial barrier between him and the humans with whom he shared this world. That Haze could even consider it, gained him a higher standing in Clark's estimation. How many people would dare to be that honest to someone with his abilities?



Haze smiled at him. 'In one sense, no: I couldn't willingly harm you, Clark. However in terms of ability, I can do almost anything: I only have to determine WHY I should do it. There are always ways by which a given task can be accomplished, even with a limited range of skills and resources. Remember that, it may come in handy in the future.'



Clark fell silent for a few minutes, absorbing the sensation of flying. It was quite unlike those blurred impressions he could still remember from being Kal. This was far a more physical experience, with each beat of Haze's wings slicing through the air and lifting them both along. The smooth coiling and relaxing of Haze's muscles as the massive wings rose and fell in harmony was soothing, and altogether pleasant.



As Clark stopped worrying about falling, he relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation.



'Want to really fly?' Haze asked







"We are." Clark puzzled.



'No, we're only cruising. Want to find out what it really feels like to fly to the limits within atmosphere?'



"Yeah!" Clark breathed. "Yeah, go for it!"



'Deep breath!' Haze's warm voice advised. 'And try not to wake the whole world this time!' The teasing tone made it clear that he was only joking.



Clark hastily filled his lungs to capacity anyway.



Angling his body, Haze sliced down out of the sky. Clark gasped in delight. This was way better than any rollercoaster! They swept groundwards; racing in toward the rapidly expanding squares spread out below them in the dim starlight. With no moon that night, there was little chance that any human would see them, besides at the speed that they were moving they would be nothing more than a momentary blur.



Haze dived almost to the ground, levelling out scarcely ten feet off the turf, skimming the contours and effortlessly maintaining control, flashing over hedges, fences and treetops, and skimming smoothly around the few isolated buildings.



"Up!" Clark laughed, hugging him tighter.



'Whatever you want.' Haze's wings beat faster, powering them both back up toward the cloud ceiling, swerving upwards in curves and smoothly rolling Clark one way and then the other as the angel carried him onwards.



Bursting through the lower clouds, Haze wove them around the humps and curves of the glowing white surface, speeding along through the clear crisp air sandwiched between the two layers.



"Higher!" Clark urged.



With a smile Haze cut up through the upper clouds, emerging into the starlit vault and levelling out to let Clark stare at the stars through the thinning air. 'No higher than this for now.' He warned gently. 'You're at the limits of your current safety, Clark.'



For a while Clark drank in the pure beauty of the uninterrupted night sky, before Haze rolled a gut clenching 180, raising the hairs on the back of Clark's neck, and dipped them back down again into what he had obviously appropriated as his own personal airspace for the evening.







'It's nice flying up here, but I really want some sunshine.' Haze decided, after they had flown for a while longer. 'How about it?'



"But it's nine pm!" Clark reminded him, chancing a quick peek at his watch. "There's hours before the dawn."



'And this is a round world so the sun is shining somewhere on the other side of it.' Haze laughed silently, his chest pumping but his mental tones even.



"Mom and Dad will be furious." Clark suggested. He really wanted to go, but he was already in enough trouble at home.







'I'll take the blame.' Haze told him, 'And you can show me how to fix the tractor when we get back. That'll get you back in their good books.'



"The engine is worn out." Clark knew what was wrong with the old tractor, it was OLD. The bearings were almost ground down to nothing and the metal was so thin in places that you could practically see through it, without needing x-ray vision.



'So?' Haze was mellowed out now, contented by flying and being with a happier Clark. 'I can make more new metal, but I don't know how the parts work together. I could thicken the wrong bits, which would ruin it. You know what the insides should be like. That's why I need you.'



"You need me?" Clark tried out that idea and found that he liked it, even if Haze was only talking about working on mending a tractor.



'Yes, I do need you.' Haze smiled. 'Let's try something while we're up here?'



"Try what?" Clark was less sure about that. He had no idea how far up they were, but he was sure that it would be a lot further than he wanted to fall.



'I would never let you fall.' Haze promised, picking up on his surface thoughts. 'You said you flew before…?’



"I was under the red-K then. I've tried to since, and I can't do it." Clark admitted awkwardly. "I was really trying earlier, and if I couldn’t do it to save my life, why would I be able to start now?"



'I think you can.' Haze said mysteriously, 'And I'm going to help you find out how. You won't fall because I'm with you, and you should have as much room as you need up here to practice…'



"What about planes?" It was something that had been lingering at the back of Clark's mind for a while now. "Won't we cut across a flight path or something?"



'Those machines don't usually fly across the deep waters.' Haze told him confidently. 'Chloe's computer told me that.' He added.



"We're…?" It occurred to Clark that they had been going for a while and he now had absolutely no idea of where they were, except up. That left a lot of World to be 'up' in.



'There is a huge body of cool salt water some way below these clouds. The nearest land is very far below that, but the nearest dry land lies beyond it.' The angel replied.



"Wow." Clark thought it over. "Haze, do you just know that stuff?"



'I feel it, in the same way that I feel the rest of the world all around me.' Came the ready response. 'Clark, can you feel it too?'



Clark stretched out his thoughts, at least he tried to, and he was almost sure that he could sense something … out there … beyond the edges of his own thoughts.



'I'm going to put my arms around your waist.' Haze decided. 'I can still move us both along like that, and maybe feeling the wind under you properly will help you to find your own flight again? We already know you're capable of it, we just have to discover the 'how' part.’



Clark felt himself shifted and instinctively shut his eyes and tensed.



'We're in this together.' Haze reassured him, his body heat comfortingly close along Clark's back. 'Rely on me to guide you, and learn for yourself how it feels to move along the air currents.'



With Haze's hands locked firm around his waist, Clark began to gain an understanding of how the air buoyed them up, of how the subtlest shift of hands, legs or spine could adjust the angle and direction of the flight. He soon understood that although Haze obtained much of his broad control through his wings, the angel used his whole body to refine the details.



'You're doing well. ' Haze sent to him. 'Spread your arms out to the sides. It’ll help stabilize you.'



"Won't that get in the way of your wings?" Clark worried.



The hands on his waist squeezed him lightly. 'No. You've been flying both of us for some time now…'



Startled, Clark looked up and found that it was true. The suddenness of the realisation broke his control. A wall of uneven air slammed into him, tumbling them both downwards.