Similis

Now that Haze was settled in with them, things on the farm resumed their easy routine. Haze's careful use of his odd abilities made it hard to judge where the angel's real strengths actually lay, but he was a naturally placid person and seemingly endlessly patient with Clark and his questions, and so far neither Martha nor Jonathan had even a moment's regret over taking him in.



With the school out for a short half-term break, Clark and Haze found themselves with nothing better to do than spend all day together, except that 'nothing' apparently included all of the chores that Jonathan could find for them.



It had turned out that despite his curious insights, Haze was not particularly technically minded, which excluded him from many of the more delicate repair jobs, and although he was stronger than a human he had proved to be nowhere near on a physical level with Clark, but then, as Jonathan had remarked, how many teens could bench-press a tractor?



"At least Haze can lift it." Clark noted dryly, sparing a wry glance at his Dad. "Even if he doesn’t use his hands."



"Clark Kent, that is enough of that sort of talk." Jonathan chuckled, nipping any disparaging comments in the bud. "Your mother and I may not be able to pick the house up, but we pull our own weight." He glanced at Haze. "Figuratively speaking." He added, on seeing the puzzled expression on the lad's face, and flicked a telling look at the original. "It's not only about brawn, Clark."



Reaching out Haze tugged lightly at Clark's hair.



"See? Even Haze agrees with me." Came the amused comment. "I might like this version of you better? He doesn't eat as much either. Maybe we'll cut our expenses by keeping Haze and telling the Sheriff to re-home you?"



"Aw, Haze, I thought you were on my side? Now I find you're siding with them." Clark mock-pouted, accepting the teasing with his normal good humour. "And you got my red shirt. Again."



Haze shrugged and managed to look entirely innocent.



"At least you two don't seem to argue over underwear." Jonathan teased. "Your mom was worried that one of you would have to go commando yesterday…"



"Dad!" There were some topics that Clark simply could not handle, and having an underwear conversation with his father was definitely one of them, although, he reflected, it would definitely have been worse coming from his mother.



"Okay, Clark, seriously now, you go take care of the deliveries, Haze can give a hand with the heavy chores, that'll leave me free to get a few of the more fiddly repairs out of the way." Jonathan decided. "And before you ask, I don't suppose that Haze would have any trouble with handling the truck now you've shown him how, but he doesn’t have a license and you do! This way you should get finished by ten, and then you two boys can both have the rest of the day to goof off." He grinned. "And we set aside some money yesterday, so you can use some of it to go get yourselves some clothes later on. Maybe you can draw lots for who finally gets the red plaid shirt?"



"DAD!"



"Clark?"



"Okay, Dad."



"Smart fella."



* * * * *





"All done." Deciding that he was going to have to stop talking to himself, at least out loud, Clark shut the door of the truck with a happy sigh and slipped the keys into his pocket. He checked the time: nine thirty-nine.



"Wonder where everyone is?" A slow sweep with his X-ray vision showed that his Dad was currently in the barn, intently rummaging around in one of the toolboxes. Haze was nowhere to be seen, but Clark wasn't worried. Haze wasn't far, the steady pulse that Clark felt every time they were within a few hundred yards of each other was already tickling the back of his ribs. Looking a little further he saw a flicker of movement. Haze?



Not unless Haze had suddenly grown another pair of legs. The bones that Clark was currently looking at accelerated. That was one ANGRY cow, and it was not alone, it was practically on top of something else, something person-shaped. The inevitable collision was already happening before he understood what he was seeing. Racing around the corner and out into the field, Clark thought that his heart might burst as he watched the crumpled form hit the dusty ground.







"NO!"



Hearing a cry of pure anguish, Jonathan looked up from the mess of tools and, dropping everything, ran outside. "Clark? Haze?" For a second he wondered if Haze had finally found his voice? If so, what could have triggered such distress in the normally calm youth?



"DAD!!!"



That was definitely Clark, but which direction had the cry come from? What would make Clark yell out like that? A cold sensation began to solidify in Jonathan's chest. He glanced around urgently. Surely that couldn't just be teenage angst? It had sounded more like sheer terror! The truck was parked neatly back in its usual spot, but there was no sign of his son.



A sudden movement from the house attracted his attention. Coming out, the figure staggered uneasily and then righted itself, staring around as if seeking something. Their eyes met.



Of course, he heard it too. It was only natural that Jonathan wouldn’t be the only one to hear the cry, from the volume he half-expected that the folks in town would soon be throwing open their windows and asking around for the cause.



So was that Haze leaving the house? Or Clark? What t-shirts were the pair wearing this morning? Jonathan tried to turn his mind back to the table, but it already seemed an age since breakfast.



The figure took the steps in one leap and, seeing Jonathan standing hesitating, cast a worried expression at him, gesturing urgently for him to follow.



"DAD!!" Clark howled again, from somewhere off to the right. That meant the youth in front of him must be Haze.







Jonathan followed as Haze ran between the pens, trusting the lad to get them both to wherever Clark was. Finally, he found his son, crouched in the edge of a field, literally holding an angry cow at arms length, sobbing loudly.



"Martha?" Jonathan thought that he would pass out there and then as it dawned on him exactly what it was that Clark was protecting.



"Oh, Lord! Martha!" Only the inhumanly firm hand on his arm stopped Jonathan from launching himself bodily over the fence that very instant. "I have to get to her!" He snapped at Haze.



The lad shook his head. The hands around Jonathan's biceps tightened, and a curious tingle ran up his arms and down into his feet.



"Haze, what are you doing to me? Let me go! That's my wife lying there!" Jonathan could not believe what was happening, all of his nightmares seemed to be happening at once and this boy was somehow stopping him from moving so much as a pinkie finger to help.



Vaulting the fence with ease, Haze slipped behind Clark and knelt beside the fractured body. Reaching out to press the flat of one hand against the back of Clark's neck, Haze shut his eyes for a second.



"Okay. I'll get the cow out of here, you take care of Mom." Clark gasped. "Haze, it's bad … Don't even try to move her."





Evidently agreeing with Clark's assessment, Haze spun on his heels, and while Jonathan watched in stunned shock, he ran his palms along the air over Martha, holding them delicately at least a hand-span above her head, continuing down her shoulders, chest, abdomen, hips, knees, and finally testing the air above her shins and ankles.



Clark, having successfully removed the angry cow, returned to the side of his 'twin'. "I got it penned away." He said quickly. "Haze. Is she…?"



The crouching lad cast a worried glance toward Jonathan and made a rapid palm-open gesture.



Jonathan felt the invisible force that had held him immobile fade to nothing. So Haze had only been trying to keep him safe? His anger soaked away. The intention had been honourable enough, whatever the means.



"Oh God…" Clark bit his lip and looked at the blood seeping through his mother's blouse. He swallowed hard.



Haze looked at Jonathan.



"Dad? Haze is asking …"



"Whatever you can do." Jonathan had no doubts, he had seen crush injuries like these before. With this amount of damage there was only one possible outcome, and it did not involve any happy feelings. Perhaps the boy really could do something, even if only to ease the transition?



"But don't risk yourself, Haze." Jonathan added grimly. "She wouldn't want that…" The tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, blinding him for a moment. Jonathan rubbed them away furiously. He had to be strong, for Clark, for Martha, and for their latest arrival.



He didn't know quite what he was expecting, but when Haze reached down and grabbed up a handful of the dry earth from beside his feet, quite suddenly Jonathan knew that this was not going to be like any sci-fi movie he had ever seen.



Haze trickled the dust into a loose triangle over Martha, letting the lingering traces blow free from his open palm. Yanking off his t-shirt, he shivered and his wings sprang from his back, forcing Clark and Jonathan to throw themselves off to one side and out of the way of the spreading feathers.







By the time both Kent's had regained their respective balances, Haze had shifted nearer to Martha, kneeling at her side he bent over her, pressing his fingertips against the soil on which she lay. The shade from the massive wings made it difficult to see exactly what was happening, and at first it seemed only as if the sun was finally breaking out of the clouds, but as the brightness grew it was soon apparent that it was coming not from the sky but from the ground.



"That light?" Jonathan whispered, evidently frightened of breaking Haze's intense concentration. "Do you see it too, Clark?"



"I see it, Dad." Clark whispered back, marvelling at the reflections dancing on the underside of Haze's broad wings.



Thin threads of energy snapped up from the dry soil to earth themselves along the edges of the wings. Haze shuddered at the contact. Evidently it was by no means a painless process for the angel. The corona grew stronger, expanding until every inch of Haze was emitting tiny bright spines of light.



Opening his mouth, the unearthly youth trembled, sending shimmering mist drifting from his mouth to settle in serried rows over the crumpled body on the floor.



No, not mist … Letters! Clark was not sure if any of the glowing shapes matched those of his own native planet, although they seemed loosely familiar. While something inside him told Clark that these shapes were characters that same instinct did not extend to offering any clue as to what they might mean.



For a second, Clark felt the tenuous connection he shared with Haze flare into life, asking … something. "Do it…" He urged, "Whatever it takes, Haze."



As Haze slipped into closer synchronisation with him, Clark felt their energies combine, completing the circuit. Hot wind rushed along the ground, carrying with it strange exotic scents, and a faint sound like glassy wind chimes. Static crackled through his hair.



"Clark!" Jonathan's hushed demand startled him. "What does Haze want from you?"



"I don't know, but I trust him, Dad. Completely." Clark replied, "I only hope that we …" His voice choked as the limp hand stretched out in the grass twitched. "Mom?"



"Clark?" Martha sat up and blinked in confusion. "Haze?" She glanced around. "Jon?" Shaking her head, she took in her surroundings.







Jonathan flung himself at her, so happy to have her back and whole that he didn't care if anyone saw the tears in his eyes. So what if he was soft? Well, not soft, but a little mushy, maybe?



"Jonathan Kent, you are squashing me!" His wife protested mildly, after returning the hug for at least a minute. She started thinking things through though. "Why am I sitting in the dirt? And why are you three hovering over me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Is this some sort of prank?"



"Mom. Do you remember the cow?" Clark asked carefully.



Martha frowned. "Yes, it started to chase me," Her hand went toward her ribs. "It hit me, didn't it?"



"Honey," Jonathan started to say.



"Jon," She hushed him and stuck out her hands, inviting him to help her up. "It's alright." Her eyes grew softer. "Thanks to both our special boys, it's all fine now."



Haze gave a heavy sigh, still leaning heavily on Clark, and shifting his wings away in an automatic movement that seemed as natural on him as Clark's habitual frowns of bewilderment. For a moment his full weight rested against Clark, letting the other boy take the strain. Clark plainly didn't mind though as he merely held onto Haze, waiting for him to recover his equilibrium, before helping the other youth on with his shirt.



"Clark." Jonathan noticed how tenderly his son reacted toward his 'twin' and smiled softly. "See that Haze gets indoors okay, I think a hot drink is in order." He glanced toward his wife. "And maybe a plate of cookies?"



"Oh, Jon, you'll ruin your lunch!" Martha scolded him lightly, but without any real heat behind it. "Come on then, let's get indoors."



* * * * *

The next morning, Clark woke to find Haze already up, and standing by the window, staring out at the new day with his usual wrapt fascination.

"Morning." Clark offered, tugging his blankets off and yawning. Not expecting any particular response, he bounded up and patted his duplicate. "Ready for the shower?"



Haze turned and blinked, then gestured for Clark to take the lead.



"Don't mind if I do." Clark grinned and sauntered along the passage, with Haze on his heels just as usual.



It was after their shower and while Clark was brushing his teeth and still patiently trying to get his head together for the day that he noticed that the bond between he and Haze felt different somehow. Firmer.



Clark decided that it felt kind of good to be this connected to someone else, although that realisation led him on to wondering if his parents were ever likely to understand this?



Probably not, Clark supposed, even though it had almost certainly happened as a result of whatever Haze done while saving his mom. Okay, then if it's going to freak them out even more than usual, it's probably better to just not mention it at all…



Clark promptly put the whole thing to the back of his mind and concentrated on being first back in his bedroom, thereby ensuring that not only did he not have to clean the bathroom after they were both done with it, but that he would also be first at the breakfast table; without rushing at the speeds he had relied on prior to Haze's strange arrival.



Since he had found out what using his speed did to Haze, Clark had deliberately avoided using it whenever possible, and so he had to resort to a little strategic human-type cheating a little at times in order to have any real advantage. He decided that, while he did miss being able to 'Clark-speed' just a little, having Haze around was more than enough compensation.



As luck would have it, with school out and the hero business a little quieter, Clark had actually not needed to blur into action over the past few weeks, at least not until yesterday. Thankfully it had only been a micro burst, and Haze had been able to shrug it off reasonably easily. Otherwise yesterday could have had a whole different outcome…







Buttoning up his favourite shirt, Clark gave a happy sigh: as it happened, he had actually won the toss for the shirt fair and square and it was once again his exclusive property since he and Haze had gone into town the day before with Martha and his parents had kitted both of them out with new jeans, tees, socks and underwear, although Clark knew that he would not have fussed if the shirt had gone to Haze, not after Haze had saved his mom.



Maybe we could continue to share it anyway? I bet Haze would like that… Clark mused over the possibilities as he watched Haze return and start to slip into one of the pairs of new jeans.



As he dressed, Clark wondered idly if it might have been easier to have gained a sister rather than a brother? That way he would probably not have had to offer up any of his clothes in the first place? Then again… Gaining a brother is probably embarrassing enough.



Haze grinned at him as if he knew exactly what was going through Clark's mind, and waggled his fingers teasingly as he made for the door.



Clark sighed. He had already been idle for too long, and now Haze was going to take shameless advantage of that to get down to the breakfast table first. A spark of mischief flared up in Clark. "No way!" Laughing, he instinctively sped into action.







It was only as he blurred out of 'Clark time' that he realised two things: firstly that Haze was already standing at the end of the breakfast table, and secondly, yet again, he had just stupidly risked his companion's well-being on a whim …



But seeing as he HAD speeded, how could Haze have still gotten there first? Confused, Clark hesitated at the foot of the stairs.



"Morning Haze." Martha made the natural assumption, and pulling a carton of milk from the refrigerator door, poured it into the jug.



Jonathan glanced up and smiled in his usual friendly way. "Morning." He added.



Totally flustered, Clark found himself gaping, and too surprised to say anything. He was the last one downstairs! His parents thought he was Haze! He looked over to his 'twin' and saw to his relief that Haze looked fine: in fact he looked more than fine … He looked amused.



It was suddenly apparent to Clark that the slightly blank 'lost' look that Haze had worn since his arrival had finally gone, apparently vanished during the night. Clark was glad of that, it had been nice to have to protect Haze and make all of the decisions, but he suspected that having a more fully rounded Haze would be even better …



Still in shock, Clark walked into the kitchen and picked up his mug. Maybe a cup of coffee would make things clearer?



"Clark, I hope I'm not going to have to remind you about what your mother said about appearing out of nowhere." Jonathan said, gesturing towards Haze with his half-bitten slice of toast. "Someone could get hurt if you keep doing that, this place gets a little crowded at times, and with Haze here too now, it's an accident waiting to happen."



"It gets very confusing, honey." Martha added from the kitchen area. "I may have to think about banning you from doing these sorts of things in the house, if it keeps happening. The rest of us are not invulnerable, and neither is the furniture."



"Haze, are you okay?" Clark shook himself out of his daze, and stared at his duplicate. "I mean, I speeded …"



Jonathan hesitated, looking from one to the other.



'… Clark…' Haze's smile grew wider, and Clark heard his name with perfect clarity, even though he could swear that Haze's lips never moved. 'I'm fine, but thanks for asking. '







Clark's fingers went numb with shock and, as his coffee mug hit the floor, more than the momentary silence was broken.



'Let me get that? ' Haze wandered over and started picking up the shattered pieces.



Martha had obviously also noticed the significant silence. "Clark?" She assumed correctly "What's wrong, sweetie?"



"Mom?" Clark tried to remember how to breathe normally, "I … I'm hearing things."



"You'd better sit down, Clark." Martha decided, and eased him onto the nearest chair. "What is it you can hear?" Neither she nor Jonathan seemed to have noticed anything.



"I can hear Haze. Like he's talking to me!" Clark gazed in mild panic at his duplicate.



'I AM talking to you. I've been trying to reach you like this ever since we met. It's just that we weren't enough in synch for you to pick me up properly before. ' Haze responded casually. 'You'd better calm down before you blow a fuse, and then explain this to your parents for both of us, preferably before they think you're totally mad…'



Clark gulped as his mother hugged him. "Maybe it's just another of your abilities?" She suggested hopefully.



"It's not one of my abilities." Clark managed to get his brain back into first gear. "It's one of Haze's."



"One of Haze's?" Jonathan leaned in over the table. "In what way?"



"Well, you know how I could kinda …" Clark cringed. He wanted so much to be 'normal', like them, but each time one of these strange things happened, it reminded him that he never could be. He realised then that he didn't even know what 'normal' really was, not from a Human viewpoint…



"feel what Haze was feeling…" He finished awkwardly.



"So you said." Jonathan was giving him the 'I-don't-really-have-a-clue, but-I'm-not-going-to-admit-that-to-anyone' look, the edges of his eyes wrinkling in concern.



"Well, now I can hear him properly." Clark confessed. "Actual words." This confession was made no easier by his hearing Martha's indrawn gasp.



"Clark. This isn't making you uncomfortable, is it?" His mother worried. "This thing with Haze? Sorry, Haze…" She added apologetically. "It's just that this isn't at all easy for Jonathan or I…"







Clark watched Haze dismiss the matter, and felt the warmth of the other surge over him as Haze instinctively offered support. 'I totally understand, Clark. ' He told him. 'They're just worried about you. I suppose I would be too, in their situation. '



Something in Clark began to simmer. He didn't want to dismiss this. He wanted to face his parents and say 'Yes', that these days nearly everything made him uncomfortable, and that the whole just being-an-alien thing was weighing down on him, and that, if anything, it was all being made even worse by the way that Martha and Jonathan were reacting.



In fact, when Clark thought about it, being close to Haze was probably the thing that worried him least. He would dearly have liked to explain to his parents, in terms that they would understand, that for the past year he had felt himself being pulled under by the demands of the people around him, suffocated by their anxieties and expectations. Except that he realised just how utterly ungrateful and juvenile that would sound.



Finally he settled for a grudging "No", knowing that Haze would not only have already picked up on the feelings churning in him, but that he could also rely on Haze not to interfere.



"Well, that's alright then." Martha said in a rather brittle voice. "And don't worry about the mug, I'll get you another when we go into town tomorrow."



'Let your Mom know that there's no need for a new cup. ' Haze told Clark. 'I got all the bits, this one will do fine. Just needs a quick fiddle... ' Cupping his hands around the fragments, Haze somehow encouraged the cup to jump back into existence. Wandering over to the coffee pot, he filled the remade mug with steaming liquid and fetched it over to Clark.



'Least I could do. ' He apologised. 'After all, it was my fault that you got startled. '



"Haze says it was his fault that I broke the cup, so he's fixed it." Clark interpreted, hoping that this explanation would satisfy his parent's.



"Honey, it was not your fault." Martha disagreed, glancing at Haze, although from the way she was eyeing the mug, it was evident that she was not entirely convinced that everything was quite right, not even with the crockery.



"It won't fall apart again, will it?" Jonathan was immediately practical, and curious.



Haze gave Jonathan a puzzled look.



"Haze says 'no, why would it?'" Clark relayed. He looked at his friend and smiled. "When I was six, Dad glued Moms favourite cup back together, and it fell apart again a few days later." He told Haze. "The glue got hot and it all came undone."



'Use a binding agent? Strange. I'd never have thought of that. '



Encapsulated in that simple statement was a stark reminder of how different Haze was from the rest of them, even from Clark.



Except he doesn't seem to mind being different… Clark realised wistfully. "So if you didn't glue the cup, what did you actually do to it, Haze?" He was suddenly curious as well.



'Pressed the pieces back to where I wanted them, the way they were before the impact, then locked the molecular bonds together again. '



"Haze says that he made all the parts go back into place." Clark told his father, adapting Haze's words slightly to avoid panicking his parents.



'It won't come undone now. ' Haze frowned slightly, 'Not unless it sustains fresh damage, of course. ' He added.



"It should be a permanent solution." Clark promised.



"You can do that, Haze?" Martha sounded very interested suddenly.



'By their definitions, I can probably do a lot of strange things, ' Haze told Clark. 'Although I have no intention of using them to draw attention to myself. ' He nodded politely at the elder Kent's.



"Haze can do a lot of things, Mom, but he wants you to know that he intends to keep a low profile."



"Nice to hear that one of you has some sense…" Jonathan made a joke of it, but Clark wasn't so sure it was all that funny - or that his father had intended it to be…