Tales of Dystopia: The Beginning

By Mouserocks <mouserocksnerd@gmail.com>

Rated: PG13

Submitted: May 2013

Summary: For Queenie's Bizarro May EVIL challenge: Clark and
Lois find themselves in a strange predicament with one of their
descendants.

A/N: For Queenie's Bizarro May EVIL challenge. Also, the start
of a whole other universe that I've been working on (Tales of
Dystopia). Mostly, the evilness is just in the fact that I'm
putting out a teaser for a story that won't be ready to post for
a long time, but I couldn't resist. Clark and Lois find
themselves in a strange predicament with one of their future
descendants... How real could this threat be? Enjoy! (And PS:
this little prelude has little bearing on the actual story to
come, just something I figured I'd throw out there to introduce
the character.)

***

Clark sighed as he took a seat across from Lois at the small
coffee shop. He gave her a small smile. She smiled back at him
and leaned forward in her seat across the table.

"So. Back to planning."

Clark felt his smile widen into a grin. "Yeah. Hopefully we can
get through it this time, without any bouts of amnesia or any
otherwise... disruptive presence."

Lois' eyes darkened briefly as she ducked her head. She knew it
wasn't her fault that Lex had shown up and ruined everything.
But still, she couldn't help but wonder what there was about
their impending marriage that seemed to invite trouble.

"Hey," Clark chided, and she looked up brightly. He gave her a
look. She slumped her shoulders in defeat. He knew exactly what
she was thinking. They had been through this several times
already. It wasn't her fault, or his. They were just going to
start fresh.

"I know," she huffed in mild irritation, before brushing past
the issue. "So. Wedding planning."

"Yeah," Clark felt his grin slowly sprawling its way across his
features once more. She grinned right back.

A commotion outside suddenly drew their attention away. A tall
man in plain, baggy clothing ran past the window, glancing in
briefly. His eyes met Clark's and he skidded to a stop, turning
on a dime and flinging the coffee shop door open.

Clark tensed up, suspicious. There was something odd about this
man, appearing to be in his very early twenties. He approached
their table at a much slower, almost hesitant pace. Both Lois and
Clark gasped as they saw his features more clearly.

Excepting his startling blue eyes, he had a striking resemblance
to Clark himself.

"A-are you-- Lois and Clark Kent?"

Lois had the presence of mind to close her mouth and respond,
since Clark was struggling to put his thoughts together-- he
wasn't making any sort of motion indicating he'd even heard the
question. "Yes. Well, not quite yet. I'm Lois Lane, this is
Clark Kent."

A look of relief swept across his features and he carded a hand
through his hair, much in the same manner Clark had in all the
years Lois had known him. "And you are..?"

"Doesn't matter. I don't have much time."

Clark suddenly seemed to gather his wits about him. "Who are
you? Who are you running from?"

"Okay. Okay. So you two haven't gotten married yet, and I'm
assuming that you haven't done anything... intimate yet, though
I suppose I could very well be wrong--" A flush rose quickly
over the couple's cheeks. They hadn't, but how were they
supposed to tell a stranger that? "But I'm here to give you a
word of advice. I don't care if you get married, do whatever you
want, it's your lives, but I'm begging you, please. Do *not*
have kids. Do you hear me? Don't."

"Excuse me?"

"No, don't be offended. I'm serious. Dr. Klein will tell you
one day that you and Superman will be incapable of having
children-- do not try to find a cure, or give up on protection,
get careless. Do not pursue any path which might lead to the two
of you having any future offspring. Do you understand?"

"Who are you to tell either of us what we can and cannot do?
Clark, can you believe this moron?"

Clark's voice took on a steely tone. He didn't know how this
kid had figured out his secret, but he was about two seconds out
from flying off with him and threatening to drop him off a high
rise. Not that he would. But the threat would feel nice. "I'd
suggest you leave before she takes any of your sentiments to
heart and is no longer in control of her actions."

"You don't understand. I--" the young man's eyes went wide
and suddenly he ducked out of view of the window.

Clark frowned and looked up so as to assess what was outside,
only he saw nothing. He tuned in his hearing and heard
approaching footsteps and frantic sounding voices. "Um, look,
Mister..."

"Kent," he whispered. Clark felt his heart jump into his throat
and his jaw open slightly. The other man seemed to realize his
slip up at about the same instant, and he snapped wide,
frightened blue eyes up to the man who would become his ancestor.
"I, er, I mean Clarke. My name's Nathaniel Clarke."

It was too late. The damage was done. Clark knew in the bottom of
his heart that what this stranger was telling him was the truth.
He suddenly felt as if the whole world was spinning around him,
and Clark struggled to right it all around him again. There had
to be something else here. He couldn't be telling the truth. Of
course, Clark had no reason not to believe the man-- he sure
looked enough like him.

But if that were the case, then why--

"Why would you not want us to have any children if you're a
Kent? I'm guessing you're one of our kids from the future? But
wait, that doesn't necessarily explain the blue eyes. Maybe a
grandchild? Why have you come here? Who are you really? You
couldn't possibly be from the future--"

As usual, Lois was two steps ahead of him. But something in his
eyes, some kind of desperation, begging them to believe, pulled
on Clark's heart strings. "Lois, I think we should believe
him."

"Believe the crazy guy crouched on the floor claiming to be from
the future?" The look she whirled on him was appropriately
incredulous.

"I never claimed to be from the future. You inferred that,"
Nathaniel jumped in, almost instantly regretting the words as
they tumbled out of his mouth.

"Oh, so you're not?" Lois leveled him with a pointed stare.

Crap. He knew why Lois Lane was revered as one of the greatest
investigative journalists now. She really knew how to fire back
those questions at him.

"Well, uh, I guess. I mean, I am."

"Uh-huh."

Nathaniel's temper flared up. "It's the truth! Do I need to
give you my entire lineage to prove it? I may not be a Kent in
legal terms, but to be fair, who is? To be a Kent would be the
equivalent of signing your own death warrant! I'd be killed,
ostracized at the very least-- and that's assuming I could even
escape with my life at all! I mean, maybe back in the People's
Republic of Kansas-- but even there, things are tense. You've
gotta give me some credit here."

Clark felt an icy chill run through his bones. "What?" he
rasped, throat suddenly hoarse. The spinning sensation was back.

Nathan looked at him in sympathy and apology. "Look, I've said
too much. All you need to know is that yes, I am from the future,
way in the future, as in a couple centuries. Yes, I am a direct
descendent from you and Lois. And I am asking you to stop the
madness before it begins. If you want to create your goddamn
Utopia, don't force it to happen through your kids. Let the
people, the normal people have that control; let *them* follow in
your footsteps. But for the love of all Krypton, don't have any
kids!"

Suddenly there was a loud noise as the door to the coffee shop
swung open and several men poured in. Shouts of, "There he is!"
and "Grab him, quick!" echoed through the small but empty space
and Nathan backed up with his hands above his head, seemingly
accepting his fate.

Clark felt nauseated and the world started to swirl around him
again as they put handcuffs around Nathaniel's wrists rather
violently. "No! Wait! I have to talk to him!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kent, but I'm afraid we can't let you do
that."

"Remember what I said, Clark! Remember--" Suddenly Nathaniel
was cut off as a jolt of electricity flooded his body with pain
and he gritted his teeth. Clark knew from the sickening green
glow of the electricity and the queasy, slightly painful feeling
in his gut that they had somehow warped Kryptonite into the
weapon. Lois looked at him in confusion, but Clark couldn't
explain it to save his life. Or his future descendant's, for
that matter.

"Please! Let him go!" He reached out and touched the younger
man's shoulder, instantly feeling the shockwaves of Kryptonite
roll through him and he jumped back with a grunt of pain and
shock.

"Clark!" He heard Lois shouting in the back of his mind, but
suddenly, he only had eyes for the man on the ground, struggling
valiantly to get free, but ultimately not succeeding.

"Let him go!" Clark snarled, unable to explain the surge of
protectiveness for the young man before him, his entreating blue
eyes penetrating straight through his soul.

"Clark, stop it! You're only hurting yourself!"

"You should listen to your wife, Mr. Kent," the masked guard
taunted him, but clearly knowing better than to get too
involved.

Clark was shaking. He didn't understand. He didn't understand.
How could this be happening? A few moments ago, he had been
planning his wedding. Now he had to worry about his future
descendants and what the heck went wrong with Utopia and how any
of this was happening, on top of all that.

A hand landed on his shoulder and a familiar yet still strange
British voice spoke behind him. "It's all right, Clark. This
has to happen. It's for the good of Dystopia."

Clark frowned in confusion, looking up into the face of a little
man wearing 18th century British clothing and a bowler hat.
"What did you say?"

"I said to relax. This is happening for the good of Utopia."

Clark shook his head in confusion, turning back to watch in
horror as the masked and unmasked guards began carrying off a now
unconscious Nathaniel Kent. "No, no, no, no..." He struggled to
his feet and started chasing after them, leaving Lois and the
British stranger-- which his mind had somehow dubbed as Herb--
behind. "Wait! Stop! You bring him back here!"

His feet weren't fast enough. He couldn't catch up to them and
they surely weren't going to stop for him-- it must have been
his brief exposure to the Kryptonite.

And suddenly, they turned a corner and Clark couldn't find them
anywhere. Frantic and panicked, he spread his senses out as far
as they could reach currently, heart pounding, drumming out his
sense of hearing almost entirely. His vision began swimming as he
saw Lois approaching him from the distance, calling his name. He
slumped to his knees, ready to pass out any second now. The
British man reached him only just after Lois did.

"For your own good, you won't remember any of this ever
happened."

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Lois' fingers
running through his hair as a scream of protest tore through his
throat.

Suddenly he jolted upright in bed, having woken himself with his
own screams.

"Clark! What's the matter? What's wrong! Clark?! Clark!"

Finally, after needing to draw for breath, his brain caught up
with his surroundings and realized that he was at home, in bed
with his wife. He took a few more deep breaths. They were safe
and sound. No worries. Just breathe.

"Clark? What is it?"

He was eventually able to turn his eyes to his wife, sitting up
in bed beside him, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with
concern. He took a moment to look over her entire body, checking
to make sure she was all right, that it had indeed just been a
dream and nothing was as it seemed. She looked okay, besides the
obvious worry marring her features. And-- yep-- there it was. Two
sets of heartbeats, one familiar and the other much faster but
still already so familiar.

Clark sighed in relief and rested his head back against the
headboard, shutting his eyes lightly.

"Clark?" Lois' voice came across tentative, hesitant. "Are
you all right?"

He nodded in avoidance of speech.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Just give me a minute."

Lois frowned, her concern, not lifting in the slightest. Clark
was prone to nightmares at times, but this one was different, she
knew. Usually they centered around a recent rescue gone wrong,
and in many cases, she was at the center of it. But usually, he
woke up, got it off his chest and was done with it. Sometimes he
floated in his sleep, occasionally he'd talk.

Never had he screamed like that before. That scared Lois. She
rubbed a hand over her only slightly protruding belly, drawing
comfort from the tiny life form inside.

Lois knew pressuring him was the wrong move in this scenario, so
she clammed up and waited as patiently as she possibly could
until he started talking.

"It was really weird," he began, startling her from dozing
off.

Lois nodded. "Dreams usually are."

"We weren't married yet, and we were meeting at that coffee
shop after the debacle with Luthor."

Lois stopped the rubbing motion on her belly. "Was it about
Luthor?"

Clark shook his head firmly. "No. But there was this twenty year
old kid who claimed to be a descendant of ours from the future
and he told us... something about the future." Clark edited
himself off her reassuring expression. He had no doubts about
what he wanted, of course, and Clark knew a family had always
been pretty high on the list. He wasn't doubting that. But for
some reason, something in his subconscious was doubting it and he
didn't want to bother Lois with it if he didn't have to.

"What about the future? Something bad?"

"Not necessarily. Just was talking about Utopia."

Lois narrowed her eyes in suspicion. He wasn't giving her
everything, she knew. "Then why were you screaming?"

Clark wrapped his arms about his middle, suddenly very cold
sitting up out of bed without a shirt on. Which was also weird--
usually cold didn't affect him. Though it could very likely be a
reaction to the story. "Then... then some people came-- guys in
masks and such-- and they came and took him away. They shot some
kind of Kryptonite at him through an electrical pulse, and then
he was suddenly on the ground and they were taking him away. I...
I tried to chase after them, but I guess the Kryptonite had an
impact on me too. I couldn't catch them, Lois. I was panicking
and running and I still couldn't..."

Lois' hand came up to rest on his shoulder and Clark took a
shuddering breath before continuing. "Then H.G. Wells came up,
and told us that for our own good, we wouldn't remember any of
this. Then I woke up screaming."

Lois wrapped him up in her arms, trying to bring him some
comfort. It must have been working, because he tightened his grip
on her and seemed to release the last of his worries into the air
with one last shuddering breath. When he finally seemed stable
enough, Lois asked the question that was on her mind. "What did
he say to you about Utopia?"

Clark tensed once more. He knew she would come back around to
that. There was no use in hiding anything from his wife. "He...
he said we shouldn't have kids."

Lois drew away from him slightly. "What?"

Clark kept his eyes down, staring at the comforter. "Something
about them ruining Utopia."

Lois didn't speak for a long moment, and that made Clark
nervous. He reached out and placed his fingers lightly on her
growing stomach. "Hey, it doesn't mean anything. You know that
all I ever wanted was a normal life and a family to raise."

"I know," Lois nodded along rationally. "It was just a dream
anyway." She paused slightly before continuing. "You don't
think... I mean, it doesn't mean anything, does it?"

Clark felt his mouth hang open. "Of course not. Sweetie,
there's nothing I want more on earth than for us to have kids--
to have a family. After all that we've been through to get
here-- even if it were all real, I wouldn't give it up. You and
this baby mean way too much to me."

Lois nodded again, knowing and accepting the truth behind those
words, and settling back into his side at his reassurance.

"And besides, like you said, it was just a dream. Probably just
played up on some of my fears about parenthood."

Lois kissed his lips gently, and Clark knew everything was right
in his world again as they settled back into a deep and peaceful
slumber.

***

*Year 2459*

Nathaniel Clarke awoke with a dizzying sensation in his head and
his mouth dry as could be. For a few disorienting moments, he
wondered where he was before the familiar tug of metal pulled
against his wrists. His sharp blue eyes shot back to the cold
metal rings encircling his wrists. As he did every morning, he
gave them a few sharp tugs with all his might. And as happened
every morning, the only thing he got from his effort was some
fresh bruising on his skin. With a sigh of frustration, he
examined the marks that were there already-- some a deep purple,
others more yellowish in hue. There were even some cuts along the
edge of the metal, the blood dried and cracked on his nearly
translucent skin. Nathan ground his teeth in pain and anger.

He didn't know how long he'd been there anymore. He'd quickly
given up on keeping track of the days and nights, as they all
seemed to blur into one, thanks to the steady pulses of
Kryptonite running through his chains. He was dangerously close
to giving up at times. All he would have to do was admit the
truth-- tell them who he was, what he knew. Then he would finally
be free. Free, unchained, finally away from the deadly
Kryptonite.

Of course, he'd also be dead.

No, his willpower and their thirst for information about the
Resistance were the only things keeping him alive at this point.
And the longer he held out on them, the more chance he'd have to
escape.

Sometimes, he wished for death. Wished he had never been born,
more like. He'd even dreamt about that last night-- that he'd
actually gone back in time to visit the original Clark Kent and
Lois Lane and warned them to never have children. Bizarre, that.
It had seemed so real, too, and yet so hazy.

The door to his tiny, dark cell suddenly swung open and Nathan
tried his best to appear strong and not to shrink in on himself
in the corner out of fear. He lifted his head high, ignoring the
pain coursing through his veins, and met his captors eye to eye.

"Good morning, Kent," General Lynnis spoke evenly, not
betraying a hint of emotion, as usual. "How did you sleep last
night?"

A glint arose in Nathaniel's eyes, prompting him to only hold
his head higher. They could torture him all they want, but they
wouldn't get a thing out of him. Not before Dystopia fell.

He settled in for another arduous day.

THE END