The sawdust had settled for the night, and the neon "Talon" sign—flickering in its first stage of repair—cast a rhythmic, amber glow over the sidewalk. Lana had finally gone home, exhausted but smiling, leaving Jeremy to lock up.
He didn't make it to his truck. A shadow detached itself from the brickwork of the alleyway.
"You're spending a lot of time here, Jeremy."
Clark stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture rigid. The usual "Bumbling Farm Boy" mask was gone, replaced by the heavy, somber weight of a protector who felt his territory being encroached upon.
Jeremy didn't turn around immediately. He finished clicking the heavy deadbolt into place, his Apex Senses cataloging the surge of adrenaline in Clark's system and the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart—a heart that beat with the power of a star.
"Lana's building something, Clark," Jeremy said, turning slowly. "She needs people who actually show up, not people who stand across the street looking mournful."
Clark stepped into the amber light, his eyes tracking Jeremy's every movement. "I know you have abilities, Jeremy. I've seen you move. But this... this is different. You're positioning yourself between her and everyone else. Between her and Lex... and between her and me."
"Is that what this is about?" Jeremy tilted his head, a thin, mocking smile playing on his lips. "Jealousy? I thought you were above that, Clark. You have the world on your shoulders, and yet you're worried about who's helping the girl next door with her router settings."
"I don't trust the way you use what you have," Clark said, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with a hint of the power he usually kept under lock and key. "I see the way you look at people. Like they're pieces on a board. What happened at the mansion with those thieves... it was too clean. Whitney doesn't remember a thing. Neither does Lex. You did more than just 'stop' them, didn't you?"
Jeremy stepped closer, entering Clark's personal space. He knew Clark could crush him like a soda can, but Jeremy also knew that Clark's morality was his greatest cage.
"You think you know me because we both have 'gifts,' Clark? You think we're the same?"
Jeremy reached out and placed a hand on the cold brick wall next to Clark's head. He didn't use a bolt of lightning. He didn't throw a punch. Instead, he channeled a minute, localized frequency from the Refined Shards—a vibration that mimicked the molecular "Kinetic" ink the thieves had used, but stabilized by his own Static and Ice manipulation.
The brick beneath Jeremy's palm didn't break; it vibrated into a blur, turning momentarily translucent. For a heartbeat, Jeremy's hand was inside the wall, as if the solid stone had become water.
Clark's eyes widened. He had seen Jeremy run fast, seen him produce sparks, but he had never seen anyone manipulate the world like this. To Clark's Super-Hearing, the sound was a low-frequency hum that resonated with his own alien biology.
"There are predators in this town, Clark," Jeremy whispered, pulling his hand back as the brick snapped back into solid reality, cold and undisturbed. "Lex is a shark. The 'freaks' are wolves. And you... you're a Boy Scout trying to fight a war with a compass and a smile. You're so afraid of your power that you let the world suffer just so you can feel 'normal'."
Jeremy's eyes flashed a dark, shimmering emerald—a deliberate slip of the mask that hinted at depths Clark couldn't fathom.
"I'm not the villain in your story, Clark. But I'm not the hero either. I'm the one who ensures that when the dust settles, the people I care about are still standing. Lana is one of those people. If you want to protect her, start acting like you have the power to do it. Otherwise, stay out of my way."
Clark stood frozen, his breath hitching. He had spent years feeling like the only "other" in Smallville, and now he was looking at someone who didn't just have power, but had mastered it in a way Clark was too afraid to try.
"What did you do to Whitney's head?" Clark asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury.
"I gave him a clean slate," Jeremy said, walking past Clark toward his truck. "Something you're too afraid to give anyone. Go home, Clark. Dream about being a human. I'll be here making sure 'human' is still an option for Lana."
Jeremy walked away down the streets in the darkness of the evening. He turned his head around and saw Clark Kent standing alone in the amber light, looking less like a god and more like a boy who had just realized he was no longer the most powerful thing in the town.