Chapter Text
The first time Clark crossed paths with the Men in Black, he was only eight years old, growing up in Kansas in a huge farm, and he had no idea those two men were different from any other men in black suits. Of course back then Clark had only seen a limited amount of men in black suits, because not many people worked in offices there in Smallville, where his parents lived. The two men came knocking on their door one day, stating they had been called because of a terrible bug infestation and were to isolate the perimeter until the problem was solved. Clark’s parents, of course, argued that there was absolutely no bug infestation, since they had checked the entire farm just a couple of days earlier, and that, anyway, they hadn’t called anyone to come and take care of bugs. Now, while all of this happened, young Clark was in his room, spying from behind one of the curtains, curious already about the world and all the things that were different from the reality he was used to.
“I’m sorry but I have to ask you to leave my property now” came his father’s voice from the porch where they were all standing, and Clark could tell by the tone of it that his Pa was trying not to be rude with the two strangers. Their car, the boy noticed, was big and black, shiny like their tractor right after Pa cleaned it, but there was something about it that was simply off, to Clark’s opinion. It looked like one of those cars the feds had on tv, that for sure, but at the same time it looked so futuristic, and Clark wondered, because he was eight and everything seemed possible at that time, if the car could maybe fly.
“Alright, another one of those” was the answer one of the two men gave, even though it looked like he wasn’t talking to Ma and Pa but only to his colleague. Clark hid a little more behind the curtains, knowing full well that his parents had told the men he was sleeping in his room, and observed in shock as six other black cars appeared in front of the house, and men dressed in black exactly like the first two started getting out of them and exploring the perimeter. At that, of course, Clark’s father started arguing with the two men, shouting that they were not allowed to do as they pleased and, most of all, he kept asking where the hell all those cars came from. And it was at that moment that Clark noticed something moving right next to the barn, something big and dark, moving quite fast and going right towards Clark’s window. He wanted to shout, to call his Ma and Pa and ask them to keep him safe, but at the same time he didn’t want the men in black to know he was awake and lose that strategic observing point, and so Clark waited, staring at that beast and hoping someone would do something before it was too late. The creature, now that it was getting closer, looked like a huge cockroach with six limbs and two long antennae crowning the top of its head. It was terrifying, and Clark knew right when he noticed it also had big claws at the end of its limbs, that he was going to see that thing in his nightmares for the rest of his life.
Just when the Thing was about to reach the apple tree next to the house, a blue laser hit it, and right after that a red one did, and with that the beast collapsed, its huge body covering most of the daisies Ma spent so much time watering every two days. Clark made sure he was still covered by the curtains as he observed two of those men aiming big shiny guns at the now defeated monster, probably trying to see if there still were any signs of life. He wondered what kind of guns those were, since they kinda looked like the ones he and his friends had used when they’d played laser tag, but at the same time they actually killed that thing so they must have been real guns decorated in shiny colours. And then again, didn’t guns fire bullets? Because Clark was pretty sure those colourful lasers were not normal bullets like the ones they used in cops shows, they looked a lot more like the ones Captain Kirk used in almost every episode of Star Trek, and Clark had been told Star Trek was fictional and nothing he saw on that show was to be considered part of reality. Did his parents lie to him? Or did those men in black come from Star Trek? Was there a possibility that he was dreaming everything? Clark pinched himself right above his wrist and no, he definitely wasn’t dreaming, he was awake and still hidden behind the curtains of his bedroom window.
“Fucking Bugs” commented one of the men with the laser guns, right before taking off his dark sunglasses.
“I swear to God if this wasn’t the last one, I’m quitting” replied the other, imitating his colleague and pocketing his sunglasses as well.
“I bet those at the New York branch don’t have to deal with shit like this in places as shitty as fucking Kansas” and yes, Clark thought the man was being a little offensive there, since he was one of those kids who loved living in Smallville, far away from the noise of big cities.
“Lucky bastards” agreed the other man as they both started walking back to the cars, oblivious of Clark still observing all their moves. He followed them as they got back into one of the cars and then started leaving, slowly getting smaller as they drove further away from Kent’s farm.
Clark’s father, the boy then noticed, was now staring in shock at the huge creature laying right in front of the house, while his Ma was asking a bunch of very detailed questions to the two men still standing in front of them, demanding to know what that thing was and what kind of disinfestation agency they were running. Just as his dad was about to say something and finally break his shock-silence, another one of those men pointed a big white gun to the creature’s body and, with just a small green laser, he made everything disappear, and all that was left in front of the Kents’ eyes were some crushed daisies. Clark had to pinch himself another time, because what his eyes were showing him was definitely impossible, but that time again, just as a couple of minutes before, the boy realised that he wasn’t dreaming and therefore a man with a laser gun had really made a huge bug disappear right in front of his bedroom window.
“Now, there’s a really simple explanation to all the crazy things you’ve just witnessed” started one of the two men still standing in front of Clark’s parents, and he had a big smile on his face, like he was trying to sell them a lovely but fake story.
“Yes, if you would just take a look at these here” continued his colleague, and they both took a couple of silver sticks, holding them right in front of Ma and Pa’s faces. Clark was trying really hard to see whatever his parents were supposed to see, but nothing happened but a quick flash, and then the two men in black pocketed the sticks again.
“As I was telling you, sir, all the problems have been solved and we’re now ready to go” as the man was telling this to Pa, Clark noticed that all the other men had already got back into their cars and were now quickly disappearing from his sight.
“Oh, sure, thank you” was the only thing Clark’s father managed to reply, looking a little confused.
“No sir, thank you both for your collaboration” and Clark was only eight years old but even he could tell that was sarcasm.
“No problem!” assured his mother with a smile, and Clark wondered how it was possible that his Ma was smiling right after having seen that beast dead on her beautiful daisies. The two men in black nodded, took off their dark sunglasses and got back into their car, driving away just as all the other had done just minutes before them.
The day after, Clark tried to ask his parents about the huge bug, making comments about having heard some voices the previous night, but all his parents could tell him was that some nice men had come to ask a few questions and then left. Weird, was all Clark could think about that. And even after a couple of days, when Ma yelled at him for destroying all her daisies while playing outside, Clark still couldn’t figure out how his parents decided to forget about the beast and move on with their lives. The boy even asked them if they were keeping secrets from him, because he knew one of the rules in the family was that no secrets were to be ever kept, but they both assured him nothing else had happened the night the men in black had visited. And after a while, Clark simply stopped asking, mostly because his parents were getting annoyed by all his alien stories, but also because he finally understood that something those men in black had said or done that night had removed a part of his parents memories. And Clark was only eight years old at the time, but he was damn sure he was going to find out what it was.
−
Years passed, and Clark finally graduated high school. He had received a lot of offers from prestigious colleges that wanted him both for his high academic scores and his amazing football skills, and he decided to pick the one with the best journalism course, because even if he had spent all those years making researches on his own, he knew he needed some help in order to finally get the answers he wanted. And so he attended college, and right out of it he was offered a position as journalist in more than ten papers, included the local one in Smallville, where his parents still lived. They were thrilled, of course, at the idea of having their own son writing the news of the town, but Clark had other plans. Clark still remembered what two of the men dressed in black had said back when he was only eight years old and hiding behind the curtains of his bedroom, and the young man picked one of New York’s best newspaper, ready to explore the city and find the NY Branch, as that man had called it back then.
Working as a journalist turned out to be a lot of fun. Clark got to write about almost everything, going from the daily routine of a New York City’s runner, and yes, most of them went running in Central Park because they thought it was cool, to writing crime stories about the best detectives operating in the city. But even as years passed, and he was starting to think that maybe that wasn’t a bad life, he still couldn’t keep those men in black with their laser guns out of his head. He spent months visiting all the most important government agencies, asking them questions regarding a special section or unit that operated in the city and took care of, well, things from the above, possibly with particular weapons, he always added, making sure he didn’t give too much away in case he was in the wrong place. But, apparently, finding the right place was not as easy as he thought it might have been, and, after years spent looking for a clue that those men in black even existed, Clark’s hope began to falter.
When Clark was about to turn twenty-eight, he had already convinced himself that what he thought he had seen almost twenty years before had really just been a dream, because let’s face it, he was a rather creative kid, so it was completely reasonable that he had imagined the whole thing. He got home one day and, after having one too many drinks, he started trashing most of his research findings, knowing that he had nothing concrete to work on anyway.
Some of his colleagues had tried to get closer to him during his years working for that paper, but he wasn’t really looking for any kind of relationship because he was too focused on finding information about the NY Branch and the Men in Black, as he’d come to call them, but the day after trashing his findings, he walked into work and started making conversation with all the people around him, finally making friends he could do things with. He found he really enjoyed the company of the woman sitting in the cubicle right next to his, Lois Lane, and began to see her after work, getting to a point in their relationship when he felt confident enough that he told her about what he thought he’d seen as a kid, and she simply nodded, telling him that she wasn’t really an alien-believer. And so another couple of years passed, and Clark would think about the Men in Black only when Lois brought it up, mostly to make fun of him and his obsession with a child dream. But every time he thought back to that night all those years back, there was a part of him that screamed that he hadn’t dreamt it, that the Men in Black were real, and that huge bug and the laser guns and the silver sticks, and everything else he remembered. Whenever Lois would tease him about it, Clark would simply sigh, waving her away with a smile, as if he was over that childish obsession, but, when he got back in front of his computer, he would open an explore tab and keep looking for weird things happening around the city.
And then, one cold day around Christmas, just as Clark was about to order some pizza for his dinner with Lois, an alert went off on his computer, and the man’s heart started beating faster than ever before. He immediately checked and what he found was that the system he had created was actually working for the first time. He was not a computer geek or anything like that, but Lois turned out to be, and one day she had offered to help him create a program that would him detect any possible Men in Black related activity, and Clark, of course, had accepted. The system was programmed to alert him if more than three black cars that suited the description he gave were seen in any of either Google or the city’s radars, combining that information with anything going on through social media platforms, hoping that maybe someone would write something useful to Clark’s case. Sure, not everything involved in that system was completely legal, and Lois had warned him about that, but Clark didn’t care, as long as there was an actual possibility of proving that he wasn’t crazy after all. And the day the alert went off, the system had found five black cars going towards a building site and then, right after arriving there, disappearing. Clark frowned at the screen for a couple of seconds, wondering if maybe it had all been just a system bug or something that had nothing to do with the Men in Black, but the computer was showing him a picture of five cars that looked exactly like the ones he remembered, so he decided that it was worth a shot. He looked down at what he was wearing and quickly changed into the black suit he kept in his wardrobe exactly for that occasion, and sent a messy text to Lois informing her that the system was working and that if all went well, which he doubted, he might never come back to work, so she wasn’t to worry if he didn’t show up the next day. Clark then hurried out of his apartment and stopped the first taxi that he saw, telling the driver exactly where he wanted to go, and please to get there as fast as possible.
“Are you sure this is the place?” asked the driver, looking at Clark like he was completely insane, since there was nothing and no one around.
“Yes, thank you” he quickly replied while getting off the taxi, “can you please wait here? I don’t think I’ll be long” he explained, taking a deep breath and turning to see if there were any traces of men in black suits. Clark started walking, thankful for his scarf and his coat in the cold weather, putting his hands into the coat’s pockets and turning around at one of the corners, leaving the taxi behind. Nothing, there was absolutely nothing there, but he kept looking, checking on his phone if he was in the right location or if there had been a mistake. And after a while, just when he realised it was also too quiet for an alien related matter, Clark sighed loudly, deciding in that moment that he would delete the system as soon as he got home and forget all about the Men in Black. He turned back, ready to head off to his taxi, when he saw a stray cat walking by, looking at him with big green eyes.
“Yeah, I know, there’s no one else here and I’m an idiot” he told the cat, taking a hand out of the pocket in order to try and pet the animal, “what are you doing for Christmas anyway? Want a place to stay?” he asked with a smile, but, just as he was about to touch his fur, the cat hissed and quickly ran away. Clark turned to look at the animal, even just to try and apologize, but the cat was nowhere to be seen.
“Weird” he murmured to himself, taking a couple of steps in the direction the cat had gone, “wait a minute” and with that, Clark put out a hand and started walking, really slowly. Nothing happened for another couple of steps, but as he was about to take a third one, he saw his hand disappear right in front of his eyes. The man blinked a few times, and then moved his hand back and there it was again, he could see it.
“One time opportunity Clark” he told himself, still looking at his hand like that was the alien, and then, after taking a deep breath, Clark took the final steps into that invisible wall.
“Look, I already told you” came a voice from behind the corner, and Clark immediately hid behind one of the cars that weren’t there before, “you and your family are welcomed on Earth but you’ve got to check in at the Alien Reception, it’s the rule” and then Clark finally saw them: eight men dressed in black suits and with dark sunglasses on leading the way for four other people with long faces, and, − did one of them have genitals on his face? Clark frowned, squinting his eyes trying to see better through the lenses of his glasses, and realised that one of the four people had, in fact, genitalia on his face.
“Fucking Ballchinians” came another voice from somewhere closer to where he was hiding, so Clark took a few more steps behind the car and lost his visual on the four people, “will they ever learn that there are rules on civilized planets such as Earth?”
“I don’t think so” chuckled another voice, but this time it was a woman’s voice, and Clark wondered if maybe it was People in Black and not just Men in Black as he’d previously thought. Maybe then Lois could also join him and become a Person in Black with him? Would she even want that? He was itching to stand up and take a look at everything that was going on, but he had to remind himself that he had a plan and he wouldn’t have another chance if he screwed up that one, so he waited.
“We’re done here, let’s go” announced one of the voices, another female one, and Clark quickly walked back to where he’d come from, careful not to make any sound. As soon as he turned the corner, he could see his taxi waiting for him, and he ran there as fast as he could, while simultaneously taking off both his scarf and his coat and leaving them on the floor. He got into the taxi just as the five black cars drove past it, and he ordered the driver, who was now looking at him like he was a mad man for throwing his coat when the weather forecaster told the entire city to expect more snow in the evening, to follow those cars and don’t lose them for any reason.
All the cars stopped in front of an old building that didn’t really match with the shiny cars and the expensive-looking suits, but Clark told the driver to stop there anyway, paying him quickly and getting out of the taxi as soon as he was done. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would have exploded, but he took a deep breath and started walking towards the main entrance, ready to finally find out the truth. He opened the big metal doors and walked past them, into what seemed like a small dirty corridor that, again, didn’t look like the place where the People in Black would work. A man dressed in a black suit was sitting on a chair and reading a newspaper while a dog was sleeping right next to his feet, and Clark knew he had never been the best liar, but he started walking with all the confidence he could find in himself and pretended to be someone he wasn’t.
“Have they already taken in the Ballchinians?” he asked, like that was a normal conversation topic.
“Yeah, they just got in” came the lazy reply, and the man didn’t even bother to check who was coming in.
“Will those fuckers ever learn that there are rules on civilized planets such as Earth?” he added, repeating the exact words he had heard one of the Men in Black say earlier at the building site.
“Fuck no” the man chuckled, turning a page of his newspaper, and Clark realised in shock that he was reading the paper he worked for.
“I swear to God if I’m sent out just to catch another one of them, I’m quitting” and this time, Clark almost smiled at himself because those were the words one of the Men in Black had used almost twenty-two years before in front of Kent’s farm right after killing a huge bug.
“Well said” agreed the man, still sitting there and reading the paper, almost as if he was replying just to be polite and not because he was actually listening to what Clark was saying. Clark was about to add something else, mostly because he was feeling really into that new character he was playing, with such confidence and arrogance that didn’t really suit his usual persona, when he got to the end of the small corridor and opened another metal door. He realised he was in an elevator with no buttons, and finally he started to notice some kind of resemblance with the Men in Black tech he had seen back in Kansas. The elevator started moving, and as it went down Clark crossed his fingers, hoping to find what he was looking for after so many years of nothing. And then, after a couple of minutes simply going down, Clark could finally see through the glass walls, and what he saw was the biggest number of people all dressed in black suits that he had ever seen in his entire life. Everyone looked busy, and no one really cared that he was coming down in the elevator, so he managed to take a look at what everyone was doing, starting from people simply walking and chatting, to those sitting at desks and working on big computers. To say that Clark was thrilled was an understatement, his heart was bumping in his chest and he had a big dumb smile on his face, excited as if he was still eight years old and not a grown thirty year-old man. Just as he was about to reach the level of the ground and get out, the walls became red and an alarm started beeping, with a really calm voice informing him that he was an unauthorised visitor and therefore was about to get transferred to an interrogation room.
“Great” he muttered, thinking of a possible way to get out of that situation, even if he didn’t know how to stop the elevator and, even if he did, there were no buttons to press in order to go back up. After a couple of minutes, the door opened again, revealing two big men dressed in black suits, and Clark was about to start making up some excuse to explain why he was there, but the two men simply took him by his arms and started pulling him out of the elevator and towards another metal door.
“Look, there’s been a misunderstanding” he was trying to say, while they made him sit on a chair in a white room, that was probably supposed to be some kind of interrogation room, since there was a big mirror right in front of Clark that looked a lot like the ones he’d seen on tv.
“I’m sure there has been” came a voice from behind the mirror, and Clark looked up, trying to see if he could spot the man speaking to him.
“I’m− I’m a journalist, sir, for the Times, I was looking for a good story and got in this building by accident” he tried, knowing full well he was a terrible liar and everyone could have noticed he was sweating like a kid right before a test he wasn’t prepared for.
“No, you’re not” simply stated the voice, and did the man have a British accent?
“No, I’m not” admitted Clark, taking a deep breath, “I mean, yes, I am a journalist for the Times but that’s not the reason why I’m here.”
“How did you find us?” Clark wanted to stand up and get closer to the mirror, but the two men from before were still in the room and still staring at him.
“I, er− I created a system that would alert me if more than three cars like yours were seen around the city” he explained, pushing his glasses up his nose, “and today the system worked and it told me where to find you and then I followed you back here because I want to become one of you” and now Clark was running out of breath, because he had told them all those things and at the same time he was still trying to process the fact that the Men/People in Black were real.
“It looks like someone forgot to neuralyze this young man” and it sounded almost as if the man was tired, “how hard is it to do the job without making any mistakes?”
“It happened when I was a kid, in Kansas” Clark felt the urge to explain, wondering what the hell ‘neuralyze’ meant.
“Fascinating” came the annoyed reply, “neuralyze him” but as soon as Clark saw one of the man taking a silver stick out of his pocket, he closed his eyes and pointed his head to the ground.
“No please!” he begged, still not opening his eyes, “I want to help you, I can work with you!” he almost yelled, hearing how desperate his voice sounded as he said those words.
“Work with us? You know nothing about us” and a few seconds after that, one of the doors of the room opened and Clark, hoping to be out of danger, opened his eyes just in time to see an old man getting in, dressed in black just like everyone else.
“I know you kill big bugs, and I know you don’t want people to know about you!” he started, now on the edge of his chair and looking right into the man’s grey eyes, “I know you use weird laser guns and that those sticks remove people’s memory” Clark continued, pushing his glasses on his nose once again, “and I know you’re always dressed in black.”
The old man smiled a little, looking at Clark like he was some kind of circus attraction and he was still trying to figure out if he found him funny or just crazy. Then, probably deciding Clark wasn’t really a threat after all, he took a few steps closer and stood right in front of Clark’s eyes.
“Why do you think you could help us?” he calmly asked, putting his hands behind his back, a gesture Clark had always associated only with old people.
“I’m a hard worker, I know what you do here and I know I could learn how to do the same” he began, “I want to know what’s out there, I’ve studied a lot and I know how to get the information I need to get” and now Clark really sounded desperate, and he knew it, but he had gotten that far so he really couldn’t stop before making sure he’d given all he had to give, “and I found you. Yes, it took me more than twenty years, but I found you, and I want you to tell me how many people can say that” the old man stood there in silence for a few seconds, probably trying to assimilate all the things Clark had said.
“What about your job at the Times? Won’t they notice you’re not there anymore?” inquired the old man, still eyeing him suspiciously.
“This really cool thing called e-mail could help me with that” he smirked, now feeling a lot more relaxed.
“And no one else is going to ask questions about you disappearing?” and well, there was Lois, who was probably at home having dinner and laughing at the thought of Clark actually finding his ‘Men in Black’.
“There’s a friend of mine” he started, “she knows about my, uh− interest in your Agency.”
“You’re going to give us her name and her address” the man simply stated, gesturing for one of the two men still in the room to take notes, “and also your boss’ e-mail address so we may explain to him or her why you won’t be coming back to work from tomorrow onwards.”
“Does this mean I can be one of you?” Clark thought he was dreaming, and decided to pinch himself above the wrist, just like he had done all those years back, trying to make it look like he was just scratching his wrist out of nervousness or something like that. And that time, much like it’d happened twenty-two years before, Clark realised he wasn’t dreaming: he was really about to become one of the men in the black suits. He kept looking into the old man’s eyes, and noticed the man was staring back at him, a calculating look in his eyes that made Clark realise he was still pondering the question. And then, after a few seconds simply staring into Clark’s eyes, the old man smiled at him, putting a hand out like he wanted to shake Clark’s hand or help him get up.
“Yes, it means you’re going to be a Man in Black.”