Chapter Text
“Tomorrow,” Martha confirmed. “Boys! Breakfast!”
Clark and Adam emerged from Clark’s bedroom a few moments later. Adam studied the eggs, bacon and orange slices curiously. At least he knew what the bread was, and had somewhat of an idea for the rest. Seeing the Kent’s eat, he began to eat, too.
“Do you want anything on your eggs?” Clark asked through a mouthful. Martha sent a warning glare towards him, he swallowed.
“Hm?”
“Your eggs. I find them bland without something on them. We have ketchup and hot sauce. Pa likes hot sauce, I like ketchup.”
Adam eyed him curiously. Clark explained further.
“Ketchup’s made from tomatoes—um, it’s a vegetable, or I guess a fruit? Anyway, it’s something you put on a lot of things. Hot sauce is super spicy, it can make your mouth hurt if you’re not careful, but it’s still pretty good.”
Adam pretty much knew what he wanted to try first. “Ketchup, please.”
Eggs decidedly tasted a lot better with ketchup. So did the bacon. The toast and oranges, not so much, but the butter on the toast and the juice of the oranges made up for them.
“This is really good,” Adam voiced as much, unable to stop himself from grinning. He then realized he hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and had seconds. Half of a third. Clark matched him, and Jonathan and Martha couldn’t help but watch in some sort of awe. Was Adam some kind of superpowered kid, too? Were all aliens prepackaged with superpowers?
After breakfast, Martha took up Clark’s typical job of washing dishes, shooing the boys outside for the time being. Clark inhaled deeply, soaking in the sun, feeling more plant than human for the moment. Adam looked around the world before him, the sun now risen enough to cast golden shades across the plains. The cows were lazily grazing in the fields, letting out an occasional “moo.”
A light, airy summer breeze blew through the fields. It tousled Adam’s short hair, and brought the scent of something sweet. His hair looked as golden as the sun.
“This is nothing like Eternos,” he murmured breathlessly. The trauma of the night before stung his chest at these words, but his tears had dried up by the time he was halfway through showering. He instead took a deep breath in and shut his eyes, letting himself feel.
“Adam, Adam breathe,” he could hear his mother soothe once upon a time. “Remember, princes do not panic. Let yourself feel your emotions, and then let them wash over you. Only cry when you need it. You’re so strong, my son.”
He had indeed lost the sword for the time being. He had lost his home, his family, and his friends. He felt exhausted, a deep ache that would not go away for some time, and a deep, deep sadness. But he also, as he always did, felt hope. He was the newest in a long bloodline of powerful warriors. He was the son of King Randor and Queen Marlena. Heir to Eternia.
He reached out, and snagged that bright light inside of him; that bright, pulsating feeling of hope. He held it close to him, curled around it, bathed in it.
Someday, he’d go home.
For now, he needed to rest. Just like Duncan taught him to after a long training lesson.
Adam opened his eyes, and found himself back on Earth. He also found Clark staring at him. Adam smiled sheepishly, but Clark just beamed.
“C’mon, let me show you the cows!”
Adam followed Clark to the fence. The large beasts crowded to Clark’s side immediately, and Adam noticed he had brought out several oranges in his pockets. Clark began to pull them out, holding one outstretched to Adam.
“You should feed Helga. She loves oranges.” Adam slowly took the orange from him, studying it.
“What’re these animals?”
“They’re cows, like I said. Depending on the type of farm, you either milk them or slaughter them for meat. We’re a milk farm, though we also grow crops like wheat and corn for extra money. Don’t worry, they’re harmless.”
Adam nodded. Not much different from their home, though the animals they got milk and protein from were certainly different.
Not wanting to stall any longer, he looked up at the cows once more. One stared at him with the wettest doe eyes, licking her lips.
“That one’s Helga. Guess she knows you’re gonna give her that.”
Adam cautiously held his hand up through the gaps in the wooden fence. Helga immediately leaned down, taking the orange into her big mouth. Juice splashed across his hand and he pulled it back as she lazily chewed. Clark laughed as Adam held his hand aloft, unsure how to proceed with a sticky hand. His first thought was to wipe it away on his trousers—because even with all the nobility training, he was still ten—but then hesitated, because it was Clark’s clothing.
Clark left and returned with a colorful jug of sorts. Adam realized it was a watering can in the shape of an elephant. His heart twinged for a moment, thinking of the fauna of his planet, but then Clark gently took his wrist. He splashed cool water against his palm, and Adam shook his hand.
“You can wipe it on my shirt. It’s just water,” Clark reassured as Adam now stood awkwardly with a wet hand. Adam did just that, lightly darkening the gray fabric of Clark’s Mighty Crabjoys shirt.
“Who’re the… Mighty Crabjoys?”
“You’ve never—wait, of course you haven’t. Oh, you’re in for a treat later.”
Clark then began to give him a tour of the farm. The wheat, the barn, the silo, a large bur oak that Clark favored for both climbing and napping. Clark offered to show him the sights above, but Adam shook his head. It wasn’t necessarily because he was afraid of heights, far from it, but he felt his exhaustion pull at him further by the time they had gotten to the bur oak.
“You alright?” Clark asked, noticing this. Adam hummed, rubbing his eyes. The sun was edging out of gold, the sky a rich blue now with a few clouds drifting by.
“Tired,” Adam replied quietly. Clark frowned, then smiled lightly.
“Well then, take a nap here. I’ll get you for lunch.”
“By—by myself?” Adam’s voice trembled, making Clark take pause. It had been easy to forget that Adam had gone through an ordeal when they were having so much fun.
“Hold on.”
Clark brought him back by the cows and then headed inside. He grabbed a Magic Treehouse book, coming back out to Adam talking to the cows.
“I know your name is Helga, but what’s yours?” Adam had asked. Clark tilted his head, then remembered the talking green tiger.
“Animals don’t talk here,” Clark called as he approached. Adam frowned.
“Oh,” he said simply. Clark patted his back, bringing him back to the tree. Adam laid down at the base of it, the shade providing ample darkness.
“Would you like me to read out loud?” Clark questioned. It only took Adam a moment to think and nod. Clark realized then he probably should’ve grabbed the first one, but it was too late now. Clark cleared his throat. “One summer day in Frog Creek, Pennsylvania, a mysterious tree house appeared in the woods…”
By the time he reached the second chapter, Adam was snoring. Clark, regardless, kept reading aloud, until he too dozed off.
Lunch was a light affair of ham and cheese sandwiches with sweet tea, blueberries and chips. This was where Jonathan and Martha sat them down and told them about tomorrow.
“So, Adam, as much as we’d like for you to stay for the foreseeable future, there’re rules on Earth that we gotta follow,” Martha opened up first. Adam listened intently, eating his sandwich quietly. Clark’s shoulders slumped, even if he had been expecting this. “Pa and I are gonna take you to a place called Wichita tomorrow so they can begin a due process.”
“‘Due process?’”
“What we mean, son, is that you may be a prince from a different planet. But here on Earth, you’re simply an orphan.”
“But I’m…” Adam paused. “I’m not from Earth,” he said instead.
“We know. But they don’t—and…”
“They can’t know that you’re an alien, sweetheart,” Martha finished.
“What?” Adam breathed.
“You’ll have to lie. We’ll be tellin’ them we found you that mornin’, but you can’t under any circumstances let them know you’re from a different planet.”
“Why—why not?” Adam swallowed his bite of sandwich, putting it down.
“Folk here… well, we do have such things called metahumans, but aliens… those are a very different thing. They’ll either think you’re crazy, or you’re a possible threat,” Jonathan said gently. Adam shook his head.
“But my mom said—”
“It don’t matter here, Adam. We’re not saying to disregard your heritage. In fact, we want you to be proud of it. We’re only tellin’ you this for your own safety,” Martha placated. Adam twisted his lips, looking down at his plate.
“...I understand,” Adam said softly.
“But we will fight to keep you, rest assured. We don’t want you goin’ through this world alone,” Jonathan reassured, patting his hand.
“You will?”
“Obviously,” Clark piped up, like it was never a doubt. Adam studied them all, nodded, then went back to eating. Jonathan and Martha shared a look. Adam wiped away a stray tear, focusing his gaze instead on the pretty lace centerpiece on the dining table.
Night began to fall on Smallville as dinner was served. It was chicken, mashed potatoes, peas and drink of choice. As they readied for grace, Clark and Jonathan took Adam’s hands. Adam listened to Martha leading the prayer, Clark and Jonathan murmuring when appropriate. Adam did nothing of the sort, but gave a half-hearted “amen” a few moments after it was spoken.
So far, Earth food was delicious. It couldn’t measure up to Eternia of course, but so far he found he enjoyed every meal given. He, like Clark, ate almost equal shares of seconds and thirds.
After dinner, Clark brought his radio out and dragged Adam outside. He made sure the porch light was on as he pulled Adam over to the iron bench outside.
“Ok, you need to listen to their song ‘We Are The Mighty Crabjoys.’ We’ll go from there.”
Rough, garage band vocals began from the radio along with a pounding instrumental. Clark banged his head to the beat while Adam simply listened.
“I’ve never heard music like this,” he said over the music. “Our music is more… um…” He couldn’t think of the word. “Not like this.” How very eloquent.
Clark laughed. “That’s the beauty of Earth! There’s dozens of genres. Even if you don’t like this band, we’ll find something you like.”
Adam looked out into the pastures, eyes widening.
“Whoa!” he gasped. Clark looked up, and grinned.
Fireflies pinged across the foliage, lighting up the otherwise moderately dark night. The wind whistled, bringing a light but comforting chill.
“They’re called fireflies, or lightning bugs. C’mon.”
Clark guided him closer, clasping his hands. Adam mimicked him as Clark reached out and swiped one from the air. Adam leaned into Clark’s space, glancing in. The bug was tiny, resting inside Clark’s palms as he so carefully held it.
“They’re beautiful,” Adam breathed.
“They’re just the tip of the iceberg, friend. Wait until you see butterflies, or ladybugs.”
He did quite enjoy the cows. These fireflies looked wonderful, too. “I look forward to it,” he said. “Are they called fireflies or lightning bugs because the light is made out of fire or lightning?”
Clark snorted, sudden hand movement making the firefly zip out.
“It’s—” He thought for a moment. “Y’know, I don’t know how they light up. Some biological thing, I guess. But it’s not because of fire.”
Adam did as Clark did earlier, capturing a firefly between his palms. He peered inside, feeling his skin itch a bit from the sensation of the bug. His face lit up green in its light.
It was kind of bittersweet how different his nights had been. Yesterday, Skeletor laid waste to his home. Tonight, he studied bugs and hung out with Clark while the Mighty Crabjoys album screamed nearby.
But he felt safe. He still kept that hope from earlier clutched in his hands. Just like this teeny, tiny bug.
Maybe staying on Earth wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.