Chapter Text
Okay, I’ve been here for almost two days now it’s Thursday in the body of the person who should be Clark Kent. But, well, there is no Clark in this universe or timeline, or whatever; here, there has always been Clara, the girl Martha and Jonathan found after the meteor shower and raised with so much love and care.
Right now, I’m sitting in the kitchen having cereal with milk and some orange juice, with Martha hovering over my shoulder like a worried mother hen. But, to be honest, I get where she’s coming from. From what they told me when I woke up for the second time a few days ago, "I" hadn't been feeling well. It seemed like a common cold, except the original Clara had never had one before—nor had she ever taken so long to recover. The next morning, though, I collapsed with a sky-high fever out in the fields while helping Jonathan with the animals.
After that, they tried everything to bring my temperature down, but nothing worked. They couldn't take me to a doctor because of my condition they’d likely ask for blood tests. So, caught between a rock and a hard place, they decided to wait and care for me at home. Apparently, those were three long days where I barely stayed conscious; I even had at least one seizure, which terrified Martha. They said that if I hadn't woken up that night and the fever hadn't broken, they would have risked taking me to the hospital. That must have been a terrible decision for parents to make. After all, any basic test could reveal I wasn't human that is, if they could even draw blood; I’ve tested my skin, and it’s indestructible. Martha’s embroidery needle bent completely when I pressed it against my skin. Now, that bent needle is safely hidden upstairs, near Clara’s teddy bears.
I’m still trying to make sense of this place. It’s really weird being in the body of a 16-year-old girl when, in reality, I was a decade older and being back in 2001? Man, half the things I knew don't even exist yet. I already miss my cell phone and Netflix like crazy.
Yesterday, Martha made me stay in bed all day, even though I swore I was already feeling better. Then, after a lot of insisting, she finally gave in and let me hang out on the living room sofa to watch TV. But the programming was terrible. Luckily, they had a few movies on tape, and Jonathan offered to pick up some more from the local video rental store yeah, video rental stores still exist! I spent yesterday afternoon watching ‘Back to the Future’, but the movie was really just background noise while I tried to process my bizarre situation.
Man, I’d read and watched so many stories involving rebirth or waking up in the body of a character from the original tale. Isekai was a super popular genre in anime and manhwa, and during the pandemic, I read a bunch of stories about dying and reincarnating as the story's villainess. But why on earth did I end up in Smallville? And why not as one of the many existing female characters, but rather as a female version of Clark Kent?
From the memories of Clara that I’ve been able to access, none of the other characters had their genders swapped. Plus, there are some clear differences from the canon because Clark is a girl. The main one is that Clara and Lana Lang are best friends or something pretty close to it since Lana’s aunt thought it would be a good idea to get the two girls playing together. There’s also the fact that Clara is 16, a high school junior, and... a cheerleader alongside Lana. One thing, however, remains exactly the same as the original story Clara also seemed to have a secret crush on Lana.
“Clara? Are you okay?” Martha called out, touching my shoulder. Apparently, I had already finished my cereal and had been staring at the empty bowl for quite some time.
“Yeah, just... thinking. Trying to sort things out,” I replied. She smiled, took the bowl and glass to the sink, and started washing them.
“Just don’t push yourself too hard. Things will get back to normal in due time,” she said, turning briefly toward me as she washed the dishes.
I nodded. Moments later, the sound of heavy footsteps came from outside the kitchen. The door opened, and Jonathan walked in. He smiled at me and headed toward Martha, giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning,” he said, stepping closer and placing his hand on my head, playfully mussing up my hair. “I’m heading into town to pick up a few things and...”
“I’m coming with you!” I sprang up from the table before he’d even finished speaking.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Clara. You’re still recovering,” Martha interjected, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she looked at me with concern.
“I’m fine, really! I haven’t felt any symptoms since I woke up. Please...” If I had to beg, I’d do it without a second thought.
“It’s alright, Martha. The girl just can’t stand being cooped up in the house anymore,” Jonathan said in my defense, winking at me. “It’ll be good for her to come along, get some fresh air, and see people. It might even help with her memories. Besides, we can stop by the video rental store so she can pick out some movies. She’s spent enough time lying in bed, dear.”
“All right...” Martha conceded, though she quickly pointed a finger at him: “But you keep an eye on her.” Then she pointed at me: “And you, young lady no hiding it from your dad if you aren’t feeling well.”
“I promise!” I replied without hesitation. I was desperate to get out of the house and explore the surroundings so I could start gathering data.
“You heard your mom. Go get changed so we can head out,” Jonathan said, smiling.
I nodded and left the kitchen, carefully making my way up the stairs to the second floor. I walked down the hallway and entered Clara’s room. It was a bit different from Clark’s room in the series, but not by much; it was just more feminine, with white furniture instead of dark wood and walls painted a lovely light blue. According to Clara’s memories, she and Jonathan had painted the room the previous summer, after she’d really insisted on it.
There were a few posters on the wall above the bed, along with a string of fairy lights and photos with friends and her parents. To the side, there was a bookshelf filled with books and teddy bears, along with a small TV on a stand positioned in front of a desk where the computer faced the wall. Thank God Clara already had a computer; it would be much easier to do some research once the Kents were more at ease.
I went to the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a light blue cardigan. I changed quickly, terrified that Martha might change her mind or Jonathan might leave me behind. I picked up the black All-Stars sitting near the bed, put them on, and stood up.
Before leaving, I stopped in front of the mirror to check my reflection. Whenever I passed one, I couldn't help but stare at myself. Dark brown hair and blue eyes... It wasn't much different from my true appearance as Claire, but this body was definitely taller probably around 1.70m or 1.73m. I was slender but muscular; I still didn't know if that was because I was Kryptonian or due to the hard work on the farm. Plus, my skin had a light tan surely the result of days spent out in the sun.
I had dark brown almost blackhair, striking blue eyes, and dimples that appeared when I smiled. In the mirror, I looked like a younger version of Zooey Deschanelor maybe it was the haircut that reminded me so much of the actress, with the bangs and everything. Clara really looked exactly how you’d expect a female version of Clark Kent to look: beautiful, with a genuinely kind appearance.
I left the room and headed toward the front door, finding Jonathan and Martha waiting for me. She gave me an affectionate kiss on the forehead, and I didn't pull away.
"Let's go," he said, leading me to the pickup truck and opening the door for me.
—---------------------------------
It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Even though we were in a rural area, Smallville was a small town, so it didn’t take much time to reach the business district. In fact, the town was actually much bigger than I had imagined; it was strange seeing so many sights I had previously only seen on the show.
Our first stop was a hardware store. Jonathan needed to buy nails of a specific size that had run out at the farm. While he spoke with the clerk, I observed the surroundings, trying to commit every detail to memory. When he finished, we left and headed to the market; there were groceries to buy.
The place didn't offer as many options as the supermarkets I used to frequent back in my own time, but it had plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. I accompanied Jonathan, picking up the items he asked for; occasionally, people would pass by and greet us by name. I would smile and nod, even though I didn't know any of them. After a while spent gathering supplies from the list, I found myself thinking about how I’d like to prepare something to relieve the stress of all the chaos my life had turned into.
“Um... Dad?”
He glanced at me hurriedly, as if expecting me to say I wasn't feeling well; I was worrying the poor man.
“Can I get some ingredients to make cookies?”
He let out a sigh of relief before smiling.
“Yes... sure. I think we have a few things at home, but feel free to grab whatever you need, sweetheart.”
“Do you know what we have there?”
He paused for a moment, thinking.
“I think we’re just out of chocolate chips and vanilla your mom complained we’d run out when she made pancakes on Saturday. It might be good to pick up some more butter, too. You can grab the chocolate and vanilla, and I’ll get the butter.”
I nodded. It wouldn't be much. I looked around, feeling a bit lost, and then glanced at Jonathan; he smiled and nodded toward one of the aisles. I smiled back and headed in that direction.
When I reached the chocolate section, I started looking for the chips, checking the quantity and price of each package. I picked up two Hershey’s bags since there were milk chocolate and semi-sweet options, I took one of each. Now, I needed to find the vanilla. While scanning the shelves, I heard someone calling out for Clara.
“Clara! Over here!”
I recognized that voice both from the series and from the girl’s memories: it was Chloe. She was shouting and waving as she walked toward me, and she immediately gave me a tight hug once she got close.
“We were getting worried! We called your house, but your mom told us you were sick fever and all that.”
Pete, standing beside her, was holding a few bags of chips and nodded repeatedly, agreeing with his friend.
“Yeah, I think it was one of those summer colds; it really knocked me for a loop. My mom hardly let me out of bed; I had to really insist to be allowed to come along with my dad.”
“You do look a bit off, though,” Pete remarked.
Chloe punched him in the arm, shooting him a dirty look.
“Thanks for the honesty, Pete.” I couldn't help but laugh, while the boy just shrugged.
“But you’re better now, right?” I could see they were genuinely worried about their friend’s health.
“Yeah, the fever’s gone, and I feel brand new.”
Pete seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling at me.
“So, all set for back-to-school on Monday?” Chloe sounded excited.
“That soon?” I replied, startled.
Is the canon starting that early? I’m going to have to fast-track my field research…
“That’s what I told Chloe! It doesn't feel like we're going back yet. This summer flew by... I’m torn: I wanted more time off, but I also heard they’re picking new players for the team this year, and I’m excited to try out,” Pete said.
That was part of the story’s canon: Pete trying out for the football team, and Clark trying to join only to be rejected by his father, who would refuse to sign the permission slip in the pilot episode.
“So, what have you got there, Kent? Oh... cookies!” Chloe spotted the ingredients I was holding.
“Is your mom going to make them?” Pete looked genuinely excited.
“Actually, I’m going to try out a new recipe.”
Pete raised his eyebrows and looked at Chloe as if asking, "Did we hear that right?"
“I didn't know you baked, Clara,” Chloe ventured to ask.
“I’m thinking of trying something new,” I replied. Yeah, it seemed the old Clara didn’t cook, so it was natural for her friends to be confused. But I needed this more than ever.
“If they turn out good, you guys can have some.”
“Yeah... Maybe, who knows?” Pete didn’t seem too keen on the idea.
But that was his problem. My cookies were delicious the signature recipe of my channel and one of the most-watched videos from my previous life.
“So that’s what was taking so long! You ran into your friends. Good morning, kids.” Jonathan appeared in the aisle, pushing a cart that was already full. He smiled at Chloe and Pete.
“Good morning, Mr. Kent,” they said in unison.
“It’s good to see you two, but I’m going to have to steal Clara away. We still have things to do. All set? Did you get what you needed?”
“I couldn’t find the vanilla.”
We all looked around for it, but Pete took a few steps toward a shelf, grabbed an amber bottle, and brought it back to us.
“Look, this is the one my mom uses.” He handed the small bottle to me.
“Thanks, Pete.”
“That’s exactly the one Martha uses thanks Pete.” Jonathan gave the boy an approving pat on the shoulder; Pete looked incredibly proud. “Let’s go, Clara. See you later, kids.”
“Bye, Clara! Bye, Mr. Kent!” They waved, and I waved back.
“Your friends are good kids,” Jonathan said as we ran the groceries through the checkout. “Do you remember them?”
“Yes... Some things. They’re great.” I picked up the bags of groceries easily, as if they weighed nothing. Maybe I could test out my super-strength sometime today, when Jonathan and Martha weren't watching me.
“That’s good, sweetheart.” He seemed genuinely happy that I “remembered” them.
The drive through town continued. We stopped at a feed store, where Jonathan said I didn’t need to get out of the car since it would be quick. He soon returned with a few guys carrying bags of what I assumed was feed for the farm animals. Jonathan closed the truck bed, got in, and started the engine. Now, the only stop left was the video rental store.
It didn’t take long to get there. I could see a few people inside. He parked the car, and we got out.
“I think that ‘five old movies for five dollars’ special is still going on.”
I nodded, excited to go in. The rental store wasn’t part of a major, well-known chain; I didn’t know if it was a local Smallville business or a chain specific to this universe. I walked through the doors and saw that everything was neatly organized, with shelves packed with VHS tapes and DVDs. There was also a gaming section, where I saw some teenagers browsing titles, and an area dedicated to music. Just as I’d seen, the promotion was still on: a sign stated that new releases cost an average of five dollars for a two-day rental. So, it really was a great deal to pick five older movies and keep them for five days for just five dollars.
After browsing the shelves, I picked out a few I already liked: *The Karate Kid*, *The Terminator*, *Gremlins*, *10 Things I Hate About You*, and *Mulan*. They were movies that appealed to almost everyone, and I figured Jonathan and Martha would enjoy watching them too. I called Jonathan over to see my choices.
“You made good choices. Shall we head to the register?”
I nodded. We went to the counter, where he greeted the clerk and paid for the movies. We left and got into the car; it was time to head back to the farm.
When we arrived, I grabbed the shopping bags and the bags with the movies. As I had noticed earlier, they weighed absolutely nothing. I carried everything to the kitchen, placing the grocery bags on the table, and left the ribbons in the living room. I went back to the car, where Jonathan was unloading bags of animal feed, and offered to help; he accepted he must have realized by then that I was feeling much better.
“Let’s take everything over to the barn,” he said, slinging one of the bags over his shoulder.
I grabbed the other two, one in each arm. It was amazing what super-strength could do. What was my limit? We unloaded everything in the barn, and I brushed the dirt off my clothes.
“I’m going to help with the groceries,” I said, pointing toward the house.
“Right,” he agreed, smiling.
—------------------------------
The sun was already setting when I finished baking the first batch of cookies. The whole house smelled delicious vanilla and chocolate with a buttery undertone. Making them had been fun. Martha hovered over me in the kitchen the whole time, but it was nice; it gave me time to think as I measured, mixed, and portioned out the dough. It was a great way to de-stress.
“They turned out great, dear!” Martha praised as she ate a piece of the cookie I’d broken into three parts for us to taste.
“I think you’ve discovered a new talent,” Jonathan said, his mouth full of another piece. Martha swatted his arm surely because he was talking with his mouth full.
“Yeah, I think I’ll try out other recipes in the future,” I remarked. It was good to make it clear that they’d be seeing me bake things regularly. “I wanted to know if everything is ready for school on Monday? You know, my supplies? I wanted to double-check everything so I wouldn't forget anything.”
“The new ones are in your backpack, and the old ones are on your bookshelf, right next to your books,” Martha said, smiling.
“So, I’m going to go up and take a look.”
They nodded.
I headed up the stairs toward the bedroom, and as soon as I stepped through the doorway, I made sure to close the door. Even though anyone entering the room wouldn't be able to see what was on the screen due to the desk's position, I wanted to maintain a sense of privacy as much as possible. It would also be a good test to see if Jonathan and Martha were the type of parents who knocked or just barged right in good to know for future plans.
I walked over to the computer. It was an older model well, any computer would be an older model coming from 2026 and landing in 2001 but it looked reasonably new. I pressed the power button, and it began making that characteristic startup noise, with a small blue light glowing around the button.
While the machine booted up, I looked around for the backpack. It was on the other side of the room, near the nightstand. I went over, grabbed it, and brought it to the bed, dumping the contents out to get a better look. The bed was now covered with items: a binder, three books, a pencil case, a toiletry bag, and a planner.
I picked up the binder first. Flipping through it, I saw there weren't many notes just the subjects for the new school year. There were advanced classes in English Language and Composition and World History, alongside regular ones like Algebra II, Biology, and Spanish II standard subjects for a high school junior plus a Journalism elective, exactly like in the series. There were also memories of Clara cheering on the squad last year alongside Lana.
Judging by the book covers, they focused on Literature and History, while the last one was for Algebra. Reviewing them wouldn't be hard; Literature and History would be a breeze for someone with a Journalism degree. I’d still flip through the History book before classes started on Monday, just to make sure I didn't commit any gaffes if something differed historically from my own reality. There would probably be some differences, but that was a problem for future-me.
The computer made a noise signaling it had finished booting up, and I walked over to it. I’d really forgotten how long old computers with hard drives took to start up. I missed my gaming PC with its 2TB SSD and my MacBook so much! And I missed my phone, too…
The computer didn't have a startup password that would have to change. I logged in and took a look at the desktop. Nothing immediately caught my eye, but then I spotted the AOL logo. That’s when it hit me God, it was dial-up! We lived on a farm in a small town; broadband would remain expensive and hard to come by for years. It would be a long time before truly fast internet became available to the general public.
But okay, here goes I should still know how to do this…
I got up from the chair and leaned over to check the cables connected to the back of the tower. The gray cable was there, plugged into the back and connected to a phone with a blue cord on the desk. Okay, so it really was connected. I went back to the chair and clicked the AOL icon. When the program opened, I clicked "Connect."
The unmistakable sound began to emanate from the phone: the dialing noise, followed by the high-pitched static hiss that sealed the connection. On the screen, the program's message finally flashed: "Connecting at 56 kbps."
Time to learn more about this place.
Starting with the basics, I searched for information on Metropolis. Some recent news stories began to load on the screen mostly positive ones celebrating a new city acquisition or the arrival of a major corporation. Good things, generally speaking. Of course, there were also sensationalist pieces and reports of theft and robbery occurring in certain parts of the city.
Next, I looked for news about LuthorCorp; alongside company updates, Lionel Luthor’s achievements were frequently mentioned. They were the typical articles designed to boost the ego of a powerful figure. I was certain that if I dug deeper, I would find some corporate controversy they were trying to mask with this positive PR.
Since I was already in the realm of the Luthors, I thought it best to look up Smallville’s future resident: Lex Luthor. The news was more of the same what one would expect from a wealthy heir, exactly as depicted in the series. There were items about him dating models, singers, or actresses, or appearing with a new car and exclusive designer clothes. Nothing particularly deep or substantial; a few photos that might have been considered slightly risqué by the standards of the time, but nothing truly scandalous.
Scrolling further down the page, a mention of Gotham caught my eye. Gotham was right next to Metropolis, separated only by a bridge; traveling between the two cities was quick, though the contrast between them was striking. I searched for the city's name, and a flood of violent headlines began to appear on the screen ranging from thefts to murders along with a story featuring comparative charts of violence rates in Gotham versus other regions of the country. Among these stories, I saw news about the Wayne family. Specifically, the reports covered Bruce attending a Martha Wayne Foundation event and noted that nearly ten years had passed since the Waynes were murdered.
The articles mentioned his attendance but noted that he hadn't stayed long and that no photographs of him were permitted for publication. The text went on to highlight how reclusive and inaccessible the Wayne heir was, yet it included a brief statement he gave to the reporter covering his mother's foundation event:
“Caring for the people of this city is important work. My mother was deeply dedicated to them. I will keep her work alive.”
The report concluded by stating that the funds raised would go toward soup kitchens and orphanages, and that anyone wishing to help could get in touch via the foundation's phone number.
I did some more direct research on Thomas and Martha Wayne. More articles about the recent event and the couple's projects popped up, but the information I really wanted appeared right after, when I saw the old news reports about their murder. Thomas and Martha Wayne had been shot dead in front of their son as they left the theater. The text detailed a robbery gone wrong that ended in tragedy right before their eight-year-old son's eyes, while the suspect fled without a trace. The report followed the classic Batman origin story found in various works details I hadn't memorized since he never actually appeared in the Smallville series, so I hadn't needed to worry about it.
I did a little more research on other cities, maps, and global news stories that might be relevant. I was just wrapping up these initial searches when I heard a soft knock on the door.
"Dinner's ready!" Martha's voice called out from the other side of the door. Okay, so Martha was the kind of mom who knocked and waited for an answer instead of just walking right in.
"I'm coming down!" I replied.
I closed my browser tabs, disconnected from the internet, and shut down the computer. I got up, walked over to the door, and opened it. A wonderful aroma was already filling the whole house; Martha was definitely an excellent cook.
