004. Third Flight - Slightly distorted video

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[What is that? An American flag fluttering across the screen? No, just a cape. A very bright, very red cape. Clark is practicing his hovering, because it looks completely different on screen than simply standing still, and strengthens his make-believe that Superman and Clark Kent are from different universes, and that he can fly, you know, just

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[Monsters be damned, Re-l can take care of herself. She's sitting on the roof of her apartment building, alone, with a gun safely tucked at her side in case she runs into any trouble later. She's swinging her small legs off the edge as she watches the fireworks, smiling to herself. They really are pretty, and it's a shame she didn't take advantage of this last year.

Of course, Superman wasn't around then.

She'll have to thank him later.]

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[Yes, that was an awful lie.]

Being able to step away from our calling is what makes it worthwhile and keeps us human. A man possessed is a man in danger of losing sight of what he's fighting for. Even me.

[It's an admonishment offered to the wrong ears, but Re-l is more likely to be able to offer it in well...a less condescending way. Edgewoth would never accept it from him.

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I know. But he is one of those people who will do everything he can to see the people around him happier and safer. He's not possessed with his work so much as with his grief. He just needs time.

[His advice is sound. She'll be sure to repeat it to Edgeworth soon.]

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It's a good thing, but the expectations that you put on yourself and on others can be crushing. Trust me, I know. When things go wrong, it's always your fault, and the death of his witness...

[Clark raises his eyes, looking up into the thick Darkness above them.]

Sometimes grief can push us the wrong way. But you're right. He needs time--alone. To make his choices.

What about you? What choices do you have to make, Re-l?

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I think he knows that but he refuses to admit it. To do so would be a sign of weakness.

[And she knows a thing or two about wanting to keep up appearances.]

Hopefully, he'll be all right. As of now, I can't say for sure. He needs to come to terms with what's happened and he can't keep himself in denial forever.

[She glances at him.]

Several unfortunate ones on a daily basis. But that's life.

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Death is difficult to accept. Sometimes there's no such thing as getting over it, just coping.

[He glances back, studying Re-l critically.]

You're not enjoying living out your youth again, I take it?

[He wouldn't be.]

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I know. I don't blame him.

[She looks at him and shakes her head.]

I'm nearly useless like this. I can't drive, I can't fight, and I can't do anything other than paperwork. I'm a walking joke at the station.

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Maybe you should give up, be a child for a little while. Nobody would mind.

[Clark leans forward, looking down.]

You're small enough to be allowed to play on the monkey bars, that's got to be something.

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I will do no such thing. I have work to do and I'm not going to get distracted by something so trivial. I may look eight, but I'm still twenty-one.

[...And she's never been to a playground before.]

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Well, if you're sure. I mean, when this gets reversed you're still going to be twenty-one, and nobody will know any better. You don't get to be eight every day. No expectations, no rules, no boundaries. It's a freedom we adults don't have.

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It's a freedom I'm not used to having and I don't know what to do with it.

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Maybe spend some time around others your age, see what they do with it.

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Which age? Eight or twenty-one?

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[A laugh.]

I was going for eight.

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I've seen what they do. Playgrounds, coloring, running around... It's not something I'd enjoy.

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How do you know, if you haven't tried it?