Smallville: the asgardian
The Weight of Secrets and Starlight
The air in the Kent barn was thick with the scent of hay and the lingering hum of a summer evening. High in the loft, the world of Smallville felt miles away, reduced to the soft chirping of crickets and the distant lowing of cattle. Veena sat on a stack of hay bales, her auburn hair glowing like embers in the dim light of a kerosene lantern.
Clark stood by the open window, his silhouette massive against the twilight sky. He had been quiet since they left the caves, a brooding stillness settled over him that made Veena’s celestial senses itch. She knew that look—it was the look of a boy who felt the world was too fragile for his hands.
"You’ve been staring at the horizon for ten minutes, Clark," Veena said, her voice cutting through the silence. "Unless you’re waiting for an alien invasion or a pizza delivery, I think it’s time you told me what’s rattling around in that head of yours."
Clark turned, his navy eyes reflecting the flickering lantern light. He looked at his hands, then back at her. "I’ve spent my whole life being afraid, Veena. Afraid that if I ran too fast, I’d leave a trail of fire. Afraid that if I hugged my mom too hard, I’d break her ribs. Seeing you in that cave... seeing you just *be* what you are... it made me realize how much I’m still hiding."
He walked over to a heavy, rusted engine block that sat in the corner of the loft—a remnant of a tractor his father had been repairing. It weighed at least six hundred pounds. Without a word, Clark reached down. With a casual, effortless flick of his wrist, he lifted the massive hunk of iron above his head, holding it there with one hand as if it were a feather.
Veena didn't flinch. She had seen him tear car doors off, but seeing the sheer, static control of his strength was different. It was a testament to the absolute power he held in check every second of every day.
"I could throw this into the next county," Clark said, his voice steady but laced with a strange sorrow. "I could level this barn with a punch. Every time I’m around people—around Lana, or Pete, or Chloe—I’m a lie. But with you..."
He set the engine block down, the floorboards groaning under the weight.
"With me, you don't have to be a lie," Veena finished, stepping off the hay bales. She walked toward him, her footsteps light. "I know what it’s like to be a predator pretending to be a house cat, Clark. My father spent years teaching me how to pull my punches so I wouldn't kill the kids at the dojo. It’s exhausting, isn't it? The constant vigilance."
Clark nodded, his shoulders sagging. "It’s lonely. Even when I’m in a room full of people, I’m on the outside looking in."
Veena reached out, her hand covering his. The familiar spark danced between them, a warm, celestial recognition. "You aren't on the outside anymore. We’re in this together now. The farm boy and the animal trainer."
Clark looked down at their joined hands, a small, tentative smile touching his lips. "Is that what we are? A team?"
"We’re more than that, and you know it," Veena said, her voice growing soft. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, that human vulnerability that always seemed to strike when she was closest to him. "What happened in the cave... and at the school... it wasn't just about survival, Clark. There’s something happening between us. I can feel it every time you look at me."
Clark’s expression shifted, a flicker of conflict crossing his features. He didn't pull his hand away, but his gaze drifted toward the window, toward the distant lights of the Lang estate.
"Veena, you’re incredible," Clark said, his voice struggling for clarity. "You’re the only person who truly understands what I am. When I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe. Like I don't have to be careful."
"But?" Veena prompted, her heart sinking slightly. She knew that look. She had seen it every time Lana Lang walked into a room.
Clark sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to vibrate in the rafters. "But I’ve been in love with Lana since I was six years old. She’s... she’s the anchor that keeps me wanting to be human. Every time I look at her, I remember why I want to belong to this world. It’s like a habit I don't know how to break."
Veena felt a sharp, stinging pang in her chest—not the cold steel of a Syndicate blade, but the dull ache of being a second choice. She pulled her hand back, crossing her arms.
"A habit," she repeated, her wit returning as a shield. "That’s a very romantic way to describe a crush, Clark. Does she know you can lift a tractor? Does she know you’re the reason she didn't get flattened by a Porsche during the meteor shower?"
"No," Clark said quietly. "She doesn't know anything. And that’s the problem. With her, I’m the Clark I want to be. With you, I’m the Clark I actually am."
Veena looked at him, her deep blue eyes searching his. "And you think you can only love the version of yourself that’s a lie? That’s a lonely way to live, Clark. Lana is great—she’s kind, she’s beautiful, and she’s very... beige. But she can’t stand in the sun with you. She can’t run at the speed of sound or fight off Asgardian bounty hunters."
"I know," Clark said, taking a step toward her. "I know that. And that’s what scares me. When I’m with you, the world gets bigger. It gets dangerous. I’ve spent so long trying to keep my life small so I could keep Lana safe. But you... you don't need me to keep you safe. You’re a warrior."
"I’m a girl, Clark," Veena snapped, her celestial energy flickering at her fingertips. "I’m a girl who moved halfway across the world and found the only other person in the universe who speaks my language. I don't want to be a 'warrior' all the time. Sometimes I just want to be the girl you look at the way you look at her."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. Clark looked at her, really looked at her, seeing the auburn hair, the fierce blue eyes, and the raw, honest longing on her face. He saw the power she held and the heart she was offering, and for a moment, the ghost of Lana Lang seemed to fade into the shadows of the barn.
He reached out, his large hands framing her face. His skin was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her.
"I’m sorry," Clark whispered. "I’m a mess, Veena. I’m trying to figure out how to be a hero, how to be a son, and how to be... whatever I am. I don't want to hurt you. You’re too important to me."
"Then stop comparing me to a ghost," Veena said, her voice trembling. "Lana is a dream you’re having, Clark. I’m standing right here in front of you. I’m real. I’m solid. And I’m not going anywhere."
Clark leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "I know you are. And I don't want you to go. Just... give me time? Everything is changing so fast. My powers, the caves, you... I feel like I’m losing my grip on the ground."
Veena let out a long, shaky breath, her hands coming up to rest on his forearms. The muscles were like corded steel, a reminder of the titan he was. "I’m an animal trainer, remember? I have plenty of patience. But don't make me wait forever, Clark. Even stars burn out eventually."
Clark pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The navy depths were filled with a sudden, sharp clarity. "I won't. I promise."
He leaned in, and for a heartbeat, Veena thought he might finally bridge the distance. But a sudden, sharp whistle cut through the air—the sound of her father’s signal from the farmhouse.
Veena jumped, the spell broken. "That’s Dad. Perimeter check. I have to go."
"Veena," Clark called out as she turned to the ladder.
She paused, looking back over her shoulder.
"Thank you," he said. "For not being afraid of the engine block."
Veena flashed him a witty, bittersweet smile. "Next time, try a tank. It’s more my style."
As she climbed down and disappeared into the night, Clark stood alone in the loft. He looked at the engine block, then at the distant lights of the town. For the first time, the lights of the Lang house didn't look like a sanctuary. They looked like a shore he was slowly drifting away from.
He looked at his hands, the hands that could break the world, and remembered the way they had felt wrapped in Veena’s light.
Down below, Veena sprinted toward her home, her feet barely touching the grass. The ache in her chest was still there, but beneath it was a spark of hope. Clark Kent was a man of two worlds, torn between the safety of a dream and the reality of a storm.
She knew which one would win in the end. After all, you could only hide from the sun for so long before you had to step into the light.
As she reached her porch, she looked up at the sky. The stars were bright tonight, a celestial map of a home she barely remembered. But as she looked toward the Kent barn, she realized she didn't need Asgard anymore.
The most powerful force in the universe wasn't starlight or super-strength. It was the gravity of two souls finally finding their orbit. And Veena Parker was more than ready for the ride.