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who: Clark and Bucky
what: Making friends and influencing people.
when: Today.
where: The abandoned part of the city.
warnings: None.

[ There are a lot of areas in the abandoned city impassable for humans. Clark's been exploring them when he can: most often he's out here for short periods of time, or with Ellie.

The past week he's been here on his own, hard at work clearing the rubble and securing the area. It's a distance from the outer fence, but that won't stop any of the bigger monsters. Clark is more worried about others with abilities coming across it when it's being used, but he plans to be here with its intended occupant during that time. Looking after him is the same as promising to be there when it's needed.

He tracks the whir of Bucky's arm, and waits until Bucky's alone. Clark lands slowly a few metres away, speaking with concern. ]

How've you been?

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[ That gaze isn't unsettling at all.

Clark's only uncomfortable because he has no idea where to start discussing his heritage. He knows barely anything about being Kryptonian, and the only ship that could have told him anything has been confiscated by the US government.

Bucky is expecting an answer. ]

I grew up on Earth, in Kansas. I'm from a planet called Krypton. Humans have only just made first contact with my people. We're the first extraterrestrial civilisation they know about.

[He has a lot of questions already.

Why grow up on Earth and not Krypton? How far away is Krypton exactly? Are the Krypton people all as peaceful as him? What can they do? What are their weaknesses? Did he know he wasn't human?

But he doesn't ask any of them, he just issues a single low order.]

From the beginning.

[He wants the whole story. Very demanding considering the scraps he's given Clark in return, but he's testing how far he can push it.]

[ Clark sighs quietly. Not for the first time, he wishes for Lois. She knows how to make this a story.

All Clark has are scraps. Like his heritage is an elementary school art project. ]

I'm not sure what to tell you. I didn't know what my world was called until a few weeks ago.

[At least that answers a couple of questions, though it does raise others. He finally takes pity and says something more than a couple of unhelpful words.]

Why not? Why did you grow up on Earth?

[ Clark speaks quietly and measured. ]

My biological parents did it to save my life. Krypton's no longer habitable.

[ The loss of his world was for him, his father's AI, and Zod's followers. With two out of three gone, it belongs only to Clark. He's not inclined to share that. It invites too much pity. ]

My father left me a message on the ship that brought me to Earth. There was no compatible technology to play it until humans dug up a Kryptonian scout ship that had been sent to Earth millions of your years ago.

[No longer inhabitable could mean a whole variety of things, but he lets that thread drop for now and focuses instead on Clark's personal story.]

The people who raised you must have known what you were, they told you when that ship was found?

[Or before? He had said just a few weeks back.]

Didn't you notice you were different when people broke their hands trying to high five you?

[ Clark shakes his head minutely. ]

No. My powers didn't show until the third grade. My mom and dad got so worried when I was around other kids... I stopped doing it. I knew I was different. A few years later, they told me the whole truth. They'd thought someone would come looking for the ship, either the government or my people, and no one had.

[He's quiet for a minute or two, just slowly eating his soup and thinking. It doesn't seem like Clark has had a bad life from the way he talks about his family, but there must be something else there. A reason why he feels the need to isolate himself for being an alien.]

What happened after the ship was found?

[Was it something in the message he said had been left?]

[ The reason is loneliness. ]

Let's say it could have gone better.

[ There was no chance of that. Zod and his followers were fanatics. Clark looks down, swallowing heavily. ]

It signalled other Kryptonian ships. The one that answered had a group of soldiers onboard, who announced themselves to the human race, then sent down World Engines meant to terraform the planet. They wanted it to become a new Krypton. The atmospheric and ecological changes would have murdered every human being on the planet. They wanted me to join them, but I sided with humans.

I'm the only Kryptonian left on Earth.

[ Or the only one in the universe. He'd like to think (and hope) otherwise, but Clark has always felt different and alone.

He wouldn't be surprised if he was the sole survivor. ]

[It's such a deceptively simply told story, just a few sentences with only the facts rather than any emotion involved. It doesn't stop it from being deeply affecting. There's a whole war in the subtext, a man having to choose between his birth family and his adoptive one, and probably a lot of death.

He doubts Clark is the only Kryptonian left on Earth because they all chose to walk away peacefully.

That does explain a lot more, though. He's been hurt, and the people of Earth are probably scared of Kryptonians after what happened, he'd just be lumped in with them. He's seen it on the news with the Avengers sometimes, one dangerous person with super-powers makes all of them slightly distrusted.]

Do you think you made the right choice?

[It's a very mild question, he won't judge either way, he just wants to know.]

[ That's the question, isn't it? Clark sighs quietly. ]

There was no other way. The important thing is Earth's safe.

[ If he sounds like he's parroting it from someone, it's because his mother and Lois have been trying to hammer that in. Clark's sense of guilt runs very deep. ]

I'm not asking if there was another way.

[Choice is the important thing here to him, if Clark really feels he made the right one or not.]

I don't know.

[ His shoulders drop and he looks at the crackling fire.

Zod wanted to die. ]

I think it was the only choice.

[This is the most he's probably said in one conversation since the 1944, and that's both a sad thought and a little hopeful.]

I won't tell anyone what you are.

[It's clearly a secret he wants to keep hidden, and Bucky wants to assure him that he'll do that even after hearing the story.]

So-- how old are you? Do Kryptonians age like humans?

[They must do, right? Or his parents never would have been able to pretend at all. It's strange, though, to think of this powerful man having gone through school like everyone else.]

Thank you. If that changes, I'll let you know.

[ Here people are more willing to accept what's different, but Clark isn't used to it. ]

I'm thirty-three years old according to Earth's calendar. I hit puberty and grew up like the other kids... beyond that, I don't know.

[So strange, Clark seems so much younger somehow. Maybe it's the hope he still has, it makes him seem youthful in comparison to Bucky. The idea of it makes him snort quietly in amusement.]

You're older than me.

[That's sort of insane given how long he's actually lived, but he was only twenty seven when HYDRA got hold of him for the second time, and the amount of cumulative time the Soldier spent out of cryogenic freeze probably only totalled a year or two.]

[ Clark looks at him curiously. ]

How? You've been around for over half a century.

[He considers not answering or evading the question, but perhaps he owes Clark some truth in return for the story he was given. Still, he sticks to the facts alone, voice very deliberately neutral.]

I was kept in cryogenic freeze between missions. I don't remember exactly how many missions I had over the years, or how long I was awake, but I don't think it can have been more than a few days at a time each time.

[He was, after all, highly trained. Once the Soldier was given a target, that target tended to be dead very shortly.]

[ Now at least Clark is prepared. He nods gravely. ]

Does your world have the technology to safely put humans in cryofreeze, or did it only work on you because you're different?

It wasn't safe.

[So many times waking up in terrible shape, literally dragged down corridors as his muscles seized. It's probably luck that he didn't die even with his bastardised serum.]

HYDRA weren't concerned with safe, just functional.

I thought so.

[ He considers this question carefully. ]

May I look at your arm?

Why?

[It's a wary rather than sharp, and he's not refusing yet.]

I can hear the components moving. Some of them aren't as smooth as the others.

[ He'd peeked at it when they first met, because he hadn't recognised the sound. ]

It's also doing something here [ Clark presses the exact spot on his own body, just below the rotator cuff. ] to your shoulder.

[That's a very old hurt and one he barely even feels any more, it's just become background noise that's always there. It's the weight of the arm and the way it's been brutally connected to the nerves to let it move, there's not much that can be done about it.

He still doesn't really understand why, but after another moment or two he pulls his hoodie up and over his head. He's just wearing a short sleeved shirt underneath, the red Soviet star on his shoulder just visible below the sleeve. He pulls off his gloves too, leaving the gleaming segmented metal free for examination.]

It's functioning fine, as far as I can tell.

You said it yourself, functional instead of safe.

[ Maybe Bucky can brush it off. Clark can't. He's getting better at not focusing on the noise, but it's hard to ignore pain when it's there in front of him.

He sits where Bucky's wrist is when the arm is stretched out, examining the plates and insides. ]

There's some oil deposits in the elbow. You should be able to clean it out.