THE KEEPER : CHAPTER TWO
Title: The Keeper
Author(s): childrenofmen
Pairing/Characters: Clark Kent (SM) and Diana Prince (WW)
Rating: T
Warnings: Intimate situations will occurs.
Summary: Clark Kent is more than comfortable with his simple life. Living under the raider, blending in with mankind. But when a mysterious woman wounds up injured on the Kent farm, Clark makes it his mission to nurse her back to health. However as he starts to get to know her he comes to the realization that they might share a lot more in common than he initially thought...

Martha Kent had seen a lot of strange things in her sixty odd years on this Earth. She had witnessed tornado's, comets and... hell, even a spaceship fall down to Earth right in the middle of her cornfields.

It was terrifying really.

That ship had held the single most purest joys of her life, her boy, Clark. A child that had answered a young and hopeful couples prayers. But today had to be the most peculiar by a mile. Their perfect small Southern town of deep-porched houses, surrounded by carefully tended cornfields and big old trees had been quaked to it's core. It had seemed as though God had taken his large hands and ripped the sky right open.

Martha's mind had almost had trouble accepting it.

But when Clark had arrived moments later, carrying what looked to be a young woman at deaths door in those strong arms of his, Martha had known that her life couldn't possibly get any stranger than it already was.

Of course, She had made sure to shoo Clark out of the room before making quick work of ridding the girl of her soiled armour? and from there it had been a race against time to staunch her wounds and save her life. It had been a long and disturbing process and as she worked Martha had found herself almost moved to tears, call it the mother in her, but it had been what she'd needed to do her best for the young woman.

She could only hope that her efforts were enough.

Martha sighed before dampening the bloodied cloth once more, she gave it a firm squeeze then dabbed carefully at the vicious looking welt puckering the side of the young woman's mouth.

Poor love, Martha was no doctor but one glance at this woman and she knew that she had most certainly been through it. It was lucky that her Clark had found her when he did, otherwise Martha was sure the woman would have been long since dead. She was aware of Clark observing from the doorway and part of her wished that he would busy himself so that she could focus primarily on the task at hand.

She heard Clark sigh for what had to be the hundredth time that hour.

He shifted uncomfortably, watching as Ma tended to the fragile thing that lay beneath the sheets. On the bed Clark could make out a lump of blankets with unkempt black hair sticking out the top. Today had most definitely taken the strangest turn of events, and he found himself wracking his brain on how things could've possibly escalated so quickly. In all honesty it was a loaded question. Only in Smallville.

Clark tilted his head as he observed from afar.

"Poor girl." Ma murmured almost absently, and it snapped him to attention almost instantly. Clark glanced at her sharply, his blue eyes piercing under the shock of black hair. "Has she come to at all?" he asked softly, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. It was a nervous habit, one he'd been doing since he was a child.

Martha gave him a stern look. "No Clark." she chastised. "Now pack it in. You've been asking me this ever since I let you back into the room."

Clark frowned, ignoring that last statement. "What do you think happened to her, ma?"

"I don't know, Dear. But whatever happened can't have been good." Ma sighed. She looked tired and worn, but her smile was as gentle as always. "She's lucky you found her when you did. Otherwise..." she trailed off, letting the words hang in the air. Better that than to fuel her son's infamous concern when it came to injured things. She chanced a quick glance at Clark to see that troubled pinch to his brows that she knew all to well. It was funny really, even though he wasn't theirs biologically, when he looked like that it reminded her so much of her late husband that it was almost uncanny.

Clark bent his head, silently eyeing the lump of sheets. He frowned, those great blue eyes of his haunted as he stared into the room. Martha could tell that his thoughts had wandered elsewhere. "When I found her..." Clark began. "She seemed... scared. It's hard to imagine that someone who looked that terrified could be a threat."

Martha licked her lips, confused. "But that storm?"

"It wasn't a storm."

"Then wh- "

"It was some sort of electromagnetic field." Clark explained, answering Ma's question before she could fully ask. "I'm... not really sure myself." Clark had been staring fixedly at the comatose girl, his eyebrows drawn together. Now he nodded fractionally, but with a sudden sense of urgency. He seemed to be running over the idea in his mind, and with Martha's elderly brain it became hard to keep up.

"What do you mean, Clark?"

Clark pursed his lips, choosing his next words with care. "No ordinary person could have created something like that."

Martha found her eyes widening. "You don't think?"

"I'm not sure what I think. But it's possible." He walked farther into the room. The air in the space was thick and the quiet buzzed in their ears like a high pitched wail. Clark tried not to be electrified at the idea. But the very knowledge was much to tempting to ignore. Could it be?

Was it possible that there was someone else in the world like him? That he wasn't the last of his kind like he had been led to believe for so long. Clark shuddered, shaking himself. He was getting ahead of himself: his mind leading him to believe the impossible it seemed. But if that was it, then why did he have the feeling that this wasn't some mysterious work of chance. That this wasn't some sort of misplaced judgement or coincidence.

Ma was looking at him again, with concern written all over her face.

"Wouldn't her injuries have been healed by now if she was?" she asked, because she wanted to know what was troubling her son. It was strange. That storm, that field, had done something to her boy. Clark seemed to be oddly shaken, something Martha wouldn't normally associated with him. She didn't like it. The thought worried her, it worried her a lot.

Clark crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I don't know, Ma." he said exasperatedly, his tone a lot more hasty than he would of liked. He took a breath, trying to bury his thoughts in a haze of incidental nonsense. Those thick black brows of his suddenly drew together again and his next words were mumbled almost to himself. "But I know someone who can help me find out for sure."

Martha tried not to look to hopeful, she may have been getting old but her hearing was still very much in tact. "You do?"

Clark sighed, he didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Yes."

"Who?"

Clark suddenly looked unsure of himself and that look, God, that keen glance that he knew oh so well bore into his very soul the way only a mother could gaze at her child. He felt his mouth dry. "That's not important right now." he whispered, without heat. Physical and emotional exhaustion crowding in at the mere thought of visiting that Fortress up in the arctic again. "I'm hoping when she comes to she'll be able to tell us herself."

Martha took a deep breath, dropping the cloth back into the bowl. She gathered the bloodied wash rags and equipment into her frail arms and gave Clark her full attention at last. "Well we might be waiting a while then." she breathed, and for some odd reason Clark felt his insides twist. Martha studied her son's concerned look and a small knowing smile stretched her lips. "But don't give yourself grey hairs, dear. She's not out of the woods yet but she's stable."

Against his better judgement Clark found himself barking out a laugh at Ma's ill timed humour. "You really do have a way with words don't you Ma?"

Ma's smile deepened, an unexpected dimple flickering in one cheek. "That I do." she said. "Look here son, I'm not sure what this woman is or where she came from... but I know a fighter when I see one and something tells me that she's a strong one." Her voice was soft but intense, and in that perpetual moment it seemed to Clark that those words described the strange young woman better than anything he'd ever heard. Ma began to move from the room but not before stopping to give his arm a reassuring touch. "Just like you."

Clark offered her the faintest of smiles and gave a small yelp when she gave him a sharp tap to the cheek. It didn't hurt but as a son it was his duty to make his mother think that she had the upper hand at all times; even if he was an alien from another planet.

As foolish as it sounded.

"Now, now." Ma upbraided warmly. "Don't be a baby. We both know that it didn't hurt." she moved to the doorway and spoke over her shoulder this time. "I'm going to go and start supper."

Clark's stomach rumbled slightly at the thought. "Okay Ma." He murmured and waited to hear her leave the room. It never came. He didn't turn around to meet her eye again or shoot her that reassuring smile that he'd so often cast her, this was something that Ma usually did when it came to him and it often meant that she was worried. Clark didn't miss the stuttering thump-thump of her heart; confirming what he'd suspected.

She watched him quietly for a long moment before he heard her shuffle from the room and Clark let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. At last he felt the world start to settle into place around him.

He stood by himself for a moment - save the body under the sheets - unsure of what to do next.

At last he pulled up the little stall that Ma had been occupying moments before and took a seat with a heavy breath. In the silence Clark found his thoughts beginning to wander and then he thought of Lila Montgomery. I should probably go back to work. Yeah, that didn't sound like such a bad idea. Go back and check on Lila and the others. After all he had kind of pulled his disappearing act on them again and Lila was probably pulling her hair out thinking him dead or something completely insane like that.

It was the story of his life really.

Clark found his eyes beginning to roam over the unconscious woman. When he'd been in the cornfields he hadn't really gotten the chance to look at her; but now, here in his bedroom, with her wounds relatively cleaned he could just about make out the face behind the vicious welts. There in lay the sharp tanned jawline with the high cheekbones that did wonders for any mortal face and her lips were plump and sensual. Something that tugged at something within him, even though Clark would never admit it to himself. She was dead to the world with the bed covers drawn up to her chin, her mouth open, her dark hair spread out like a fan on the pillow.

Unbeknownst to him, apart of Clark decided right then that he would make it his mission to make her better.

He regarded the stranger silently, wondering what her story was - anything was possible after all - take him for example, an alien from another planet. Living amongst the citizens of this Earth. Could it really be that impossible? Could she be another one of him?

His hand rose and then froze a hairs breadth away from her cheek.

As stupid as it sounded Clark half expected her to start awake and jump him or something. Stupid really. Despite himself, he almost felt his lips turn up slightly before he dropped his hand back down to his lap. Maybe it was semantics, or... or... No, not even he had an explanation for this. He put a knuckle to his lips, trying to arrange the jumbled mess that was his mind.

He took several seconds and then squinted his eyes, now that he was looking at her properly he discovered that the woman was wearing a pair of heavy looking metallic bracers. The gauntlets looked ancient; like something straight out of a tragic tale of myth.

If the circumstances were different Clark would've scoffed at such a thought.

He let his hand trace over one of the silver bands, he frowned, gauntlets he realized. Clark was no fool and believe it or not he had actually listened in History class in sophomore year. He was ruling nothing out. He found himself straightening, Clark hadn't realized it until that moment, but the tension he felt, the sense of urgency, was not just from inside him. It was outside, all around.

It thickened the air.

Something in Clark's gut fluttered at the thought. He shook his head, muttering quietly into the silence of the room. "Who are you?"

The question hung in the space around him just as heavy as the silver bands bonded to the woman's wrists. It pushed Clark to decide what he wanted to do next, even if his next move proved to be a fools error.

It was a bright humid day in the witching hour and the non-existent clocks were striking thirteen. A woman donning heavy battle armour and pauldrons raced down the royal corridors with bleated breaths. I must tell the Queen. Rational thinking appeared to be fleeing from her and the Amazon found hysteria welling up in her throat.

Gaea! there was no time, she had to warn the queen.

The warrior quickened her steps before making a keen right towards the throne rooms and then she was bursting through the two looming doors that led to her monarch's sanctuary.

"Ariadne." cried Hippolyta, rising from her throne. The look on the girls face had her starting towards her and Hippolyta gathered up her royal garbs before rushing down the steps of her throne until she came to a halt before the much smaller Amazon.

The woman was gasping. "My Queen... We are under attack..." Ariadne broke off. She was frantic as she tried to steady her breathing and it was in those tense few seconds that Hippolyta let her eyes take in the details of what one of her most trusted allies had been through this night. Great purple patches marked her skin and with them deep nasty gashes that told of the story of battle.

Hippolyta tightened her lips. "By whom?" Their island had been at peace for the better part of two millenniums now and the thought that someone could possibly be raging war on them after so many years of solitude proved to be something of a great concern to the Queen. "Fetch Antiope, tell her to prepare the horses."

In the moments that followed it seemed as though the light that had initially been in sparkling in Ariadne's fierce eyes disappeared, and for a second she looked as though she would break out screaming in panic. "Antiope is dead." she whispered and her voice was small.

Hippolyta blanched, shaking her head. The Queen seemed to stagger on her feet and had it not been for her pride she too would've become the blubbering mess that was her dear sweet subject.

Hippolyta reached out, grasped Ariadne by the top of her arms and gave her a firm shake. Throughout Ariadne's broken dispute Hippolyta's brain had selected one key bit of information and it was by the far most terrifying indeed. "Ariadne..." She rasped through the fullness in her throat. "What of my daughter? What of Diana?"

Ariadne paled and opened her mouth. Not a sound came out so she closed it and tried again. "The princess..."

Hippolyta's face was pinched with anger, but there were tears in her eyes. "What?" she barked, and her voice pitched strangely to a tone that not even Ariadne herself had ever heard before. "Gods above Ariadne, speak to me!"

Ariadne sunk her teeth into her lip in an attempt to stop it from trembling. "It took her."

If Ariadne had ever thought she'd seen her Queen scared before she had been wrong. She was one of the very few who her grace would let be her confident and to bear witness to the way her eyes sunk and her skin paled was frightening.

Hippolyta was in turmoil.

The crushing weight of Ariadne's words seemed to squeeze her lungs to the point that she could scarcely breathe and horror swept through her like a tidal wave; squelching any incline of hope within sight. She shook her head once, lips trembling. "...What took her?"

Ariadne could see the wheels turning in her majesty's mind. "A monster." She explained. "A red eyed beast that looked like a man." She tried not to shudder as she remembered the vision. It was the very image that had made Ariadne's stomach coil into knots. She'd bitten back a gasp when she'd first laid eyes on the sight, her own eyes wild as she'd realized that... That face, those roaring red eyes had been the face of a true monster. Even if she could've shut her eyes, every detail of the scene had etched itself upon her memory.

As if the flash of fire in the beasts eyes had seared it onto her brain forever.

Hippolyta's lungs tightened as if Ariadne had socked her square in the chest. Her voice trembled on the knife's edge of hysteria. "A man." She spat and this time there was murder in her tone. "Fetch me my horse!" she roared, drawing her sword and preparing to leap into battle but it was Ariadne's hand that darted out, thwarting her attempts at vengeance.

"No! Your grace. You do not understand." She bleated.

Hippolyta's eyes blazed. "I understand enough!"

"No." Ariadne snapped, a little more harsher than she intended. "He said that our Gods had promised her to him... as leverage."

"Our Gods!" Hippolyta snarled and she was proud of how steady her voice was. "Leverage?"

Her Majesty's eyes sparkled and they appeared almost dangerous twilight under the flare of a hall lit in Tuscan sun. Ariadne knew that look. It was the same look she had seen countless times before her Majesty would throw herself into battle. The same look that had been in their dear Princess Diana's eyes when she had bravely taken on the man beast that had swept her from this world.

Ariadne swallowed, mentally preparing herself. "Lord Zeus... he has declared war on their God." she countered. "The Princess... was to be taken as leverage against Lord Zeus. That thing killed everyone of our sisters that got in it's way before it got to Diana. And even then Diana didn't make it easy for it."

The thought of what that man creature could've possibly done to her daughter drove Hippolyta to turn her wrath on Ariadne. "You speak in riddles, child!"

Ariadne scrambled for words. "There was a struggle, your Majesty!"

"A... struggle?" Hippolyta repeated, but she felt a wash of grief and fear as defeat seeped into her bones. "Use your words, Ariadne."

"In the throes of battle I myself have never feared any creature that the Gods have thrown our way." Ariadne breathed. "Be it man, beast or any leviathan sent from Tartarus itself. But that being... It... I was frightened my Queen."

Hippolyta tightened her brows and she fell silent. Her hand left the sword at her side and she tried to think. This couldn't be some sort of coincidence, something about this felt ill timed. Planed, Hippolyta realized and then suddenly she understood. Gaea's Tears. She understood. "Ariadne." She said, in a voice as quiet as the tiniest of whispers. "What was this... God's name?"

Ariadne shook her head, unable to catch on to her Queens train of thought. She wracked her brain, trying to remember. Her mind taking her back to that voice, that name, that... Ariadne perked up suddenly. "He said his name was... Rao." she rushed out, as if her lungs would burst if she didn't get the words out quick enough.

The name almost sent Hippolyta to the floor. Ariadne's hand tightened on her as she swayed on her feet and she watched in horror as her royal highness grew taut, her legs threatening to give out. "My Queen." she gasped, alarmed by the sight.

But Hippolyta's mind was running on another track.

I have to find my daughter.

Or she feared that they were all damned.

One of their Gods had betrayed them and that could only mean one thing. Hera... she knew.

Clark sat and scented the wind. He was vegged out on the porch of the farm and had come to the conclusion that tomorrow morning he would return to the cornfields. It was just peaking evening in their town and the particles in air was still thick with electromagnetic energy. It was a strange kind of verdict really, before today there hadn't been an incident in their town that proved to be something that was far from ordinary, and to have some action going on in Smallville that was besides the obvious petty crimes kind of set Clark back on his heels.

Clark pressed his lips together, deep in thought, he tugged at a stray thread on his jeans before brushing off the remaining lint, then glanced back towards the house just in time to see Ma surface with a bowl of steaming hot cattle soup.

Clark had heard her fumbling about in the kitchen for some time now and had been wondering when she'd step out onto the porch with his supper. His stomach rumbled as his nose picked up on the rich aroma of sesame seed and corn, damn, it smelled good too.

"Here you go, dear." Ma said sweetly, coming down the steps to push the bowl into his hands.

Clark gave her a grateful smile and began to pick at the stew. "Thanks Ma." Judging by the look on Ma's face Clark could tell that she had been wracking her brain for the right approach with him. He decided that he wouldn't help her with it.

Martha stood for a moment, wash rag in tole. "Is that enough for you?" she asked on a hopeful note.

Clark nodded without looking away from his bowl. "It's fine Ma."

Her shoulders fell. "Well, okay then." She sighed, with a hint of disappointment. She gave him careful look as if sizing him up. "Let me know if you need anything." She moved to turn back inside the house when Clark's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Wait, Ma!" He called out, finally turning back to look at her.

Ma almost looked thankful. "Yes dear."

Clark licked his lips. "Did she-"

Martha huffed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Clark Kent." She chastised, her features clouding over with irk. "For the third and final time, no. She has not come too... but she will and concerning yourself is only going to get you more worked up."

Clark tore his gaze from her, suddenly feeling like the hugest fool in the world. "I know... You're right." he murmured, just as baffled by his own behavior as Ma appeared to be. "It's just... we have to do everything we can for her Ma." He didn't expect her to understand, and hell, Clark didn't even understand it himself. But something, some gut instinct deep in the soul of him was telling him that this woman needed his help.

Ma's feature smoothed out and her thin lips twitched up into that gentle smile he knew all too well. "We will." she promised, and for the first time in Clark's life he didn't believe her. "Now eat up."

"Enough Ma, I'm not a kid." Clark grumbled.

"Well you could've fooled me." Martha chortled, lightheartedly. "After all, It's a mother's job to worry. Now eat."

Clark forced a grin that didn't quite reach his ears and watched as she turned around before disappearing back into the house. Bless her, she really did worry too much when it came to him, which he supposed was standard for any mother with her child, biological or not.

Clark sighed and placed the steaming bowl beside him, suddenly not feeling too hungry.

He was to wound up to eat, which was peculiar for him, I'm distracted, he realized. Alas, chalk it down to the events of earlier today. His eyes fell shut and he found himself jutting his chin out heavenward. It felt good to have the warmth of the ascending sun on his cheeks, the dark was fast approaching and before he knew it the moon would be up.

Tonight, he'd have to tune his ears in for any disturbances during the night, because Clark found a much more pressing question brewing within the regions of his mind. Quickly and easily, he realized there was another reason he was tense, a true one. Just what in heaven's name could've followed the mystery woman through that field?

So many questions, and all of them yet to have an answer.

Just when he thought he was about to have a moments peace, his cell phone sounded in his pocket. Clark frowned, shifting awkwardly before fishing the device out of the back pocket of his jeans. He glanced down, raising a dark brow at the name that blinked back at him.

Damn, it was Lila.

He had been waiting for that phone call and he supposed he owed them all an explanation really, cursing his luck Clark pressed the phone to his ear with a pinch to his brows and just like he'd known it would be the response was instantaneous.

"Joe?" Lila Montgomery's voice buzzed down the line. "Joe, oh thank God, is that you?"

Clark sighed. "Yeah. I'm here Lila."

"Oh God, I was so worried." She chirped hurriedly. "You were there and then you wasn't and I-"

"Lila." Clark interrupted.

Lila fell silent for a moment.

"I'm fine." He said, with as much heart as he dared. The lie came effortlessly to his lips. "I promise... I... I just went to see if anyone needed my help." If he closed his eyes Clark could picture her now, boxed into one of the phone machines just outside of Fell's Cabin, the phone cable wrapped firmly around her pinky finger and her lip between her burly teeth.

Lila took a breath and seemed to calm down. Her soft laugh beckoned down the line. "Of course you did." she breathed, dreamily. "That's you isn't it. Always the hero."

Clark replied honestly and this time it came straight from his heart. "I just want to make a difference, Lila."

"I know you do."

No, she didn't. None of them really did. Which was what was so sad about this whole situation. It had been one of the many factors that had driven a wedge between his relationship with Lana. She had never quite been able to grasp his alien side, and he had never really been able to give his heart over to her completely in fear that she would end up hurt. Because when the thought of tomorrow scared you sick, it was hard to make a commitment. Because you didn't want to drag someone else down with you.

Particularly someone you loved.

"You had us all pretty worried there for a second." Lila continued. "Especially Wade. He went out to look for you and... he hasn't come back yet."

Clark grew rigid. He lent forward from his perch on the front porch and his grip on the phone tightened. That peaked his interest. "What?"

He listened as she jumped right in and described a pretty hectic aftermath, that ended, among other things, with Mr Parkman having a heart attack and Wade's disappearance. "It's been chaos here, Joe." He heard people behind her and his suspicion about the payphone outside of Fell's was quickly confirmed. "There was this thing, this creature-"

Worry gripped him for second. "Wait, slow down Lila. What do you mean?" He pressed. "What did you see?"

"I don't really know." The voice came louder through the phone and Clark almost pulled the phone away from his ear; she was probably trying to hear herself over the noise around her.

"It's okay. Just breathe." Clark said, in a stronger voice. "Tell me."

Lila sucked in a sharp breath down the line and this time when she spoke Clark could hear the panic behind her words. "There was a man, I- I don't know if it was a man for certain but i-it looked like one."

Clark's fingers tightened on the cell for the second time as Lila broke off into a sob, the stress of the day no doubt starting to take its toll on her.

He tapped his fingers on the phone, wishing she'd just ask him to go out there. "Are you still at Fells?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm still here." Lila snivelled and he heard her take in a huge sniff.

He swallowed. "Okay, just stay where you are and I'll come and get you."

He heard her sigh. "Joe..."

"Just stay there, Lila." snarled Clark.

"Okay." Lila relented.

He could imagine Mr Preston trying to hear what Lila was saying, but the last comment was too soft for it. For him, it was the most rational thing she'd said yet. "Don't move." He said again and the moment she hung up the phone, Clark was on his feet and pounding down the porch steps, stumbling on rocks and clumps of grass root. His thoughts had begun to run rampant and Clark found that he could run faster.

So, something had followed the strange woman through that energy field.

A threat, he thought suddenly. Whatever was happening here was beyond his understanding, was nothing normal or sane and this knowledge to Clark was a petrifying realization. There was no time to explain his sudden departure to Ma or his untouched cattle corn soup, he'd see her later if things went smoothly and he didn't end up dead.

Clark moved swiftly around the rusty pickup truck parked sloppily on the lawn of their farm and fished the keys out from under the body of the car. He slid into the drivers seat, pushed the keys into ignition and the engine roared to life.

It would be better to drive back to Fells Cabin rather than fly. From there he would pick Lila up, drop her home and then he would find his friend. Going back to the cornfields would have to wait.

Wade was missing and it was up to Clark to find him.