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  1. Lol.... Yeah, he tends to follow me wherever I go... And you should keep an eye on it. After all, it follows my story... ('K, before anybody says a word, I swear this isn't my writing!) Hey, Foral! Finally got around to reading this... And I meant it, too, it looks like you've taken some inspiration and pointers from my writing. It is very similar, though different enough... There were a few things that could have used fixing, but, all in all, a good story. One of your best, I think... And I'm not just saying that. Out of everything I've seen from you, this is the best overall so far. Oh, and welcome to Jedi.net, li'l bro!
  2. Well, here it is. The final chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it. If you'd like, I'll be posting the sequel soon. Also, here is a link to some other reviews I've received for this story. If anybody was interested, that is. Thanks for reading! Epilogue: One Last Dance One week later... Clark leaned his head back against the soft couch at the Torch office and took a deep breath. It was finally all over. Well, there was still one small matter to attend to, which was why they were all here, crowded into the small office and staring over Chloe's shoulder at the pictures. All except Clark, who would much rather not relive his nightmare. ”œAre you sure this is going to work?”
  3. That's perfectly fine. I'm just glad to see that you're still reading! ?? Well, my thinking was more along the lines that, since she was a very late comer, and only there by the special request of a trusted ally, and since her entire situation is so very extremely complicated... But you're right, it was too fast... Meh, too late to change now, I guess... And I'm glad you think my dialogue has improved. 'Cause sometimes I wonder if there's too much dialogue, and if it's all unrelated and boring and... such... And I'm just glad to see that you're still reading, so don't worry about short reviews! Anywho... This chapter turned out to be rather long... and awkward... And... Just read it... Chapter 5: The Keeper Blackash stood still and silent next to the mound of fresh earth, staring at it as if that would bring the unfortunate girl back to life. This hadn't been what he'd signed up for. He'd only wanted revenge on his brother, not death for some innocent girl. The photographs were left in her pocket. After he'd gotten a good look at them, of course. Xanatos would have left her to rot out in the open, but Blackash had ignored his orders to leave the body alone. He'd buried her, as he'd felt was proper. ”œI'm sorry, Rachel,”
  4. Meh... The whole "KryptoMutant" theory is a bit out there... But, hey, that's the way it goes. And the other guy's identity might become somewhat apparent in this next chapter. Depends, though... I don't remember how many hints I dropped... Anyway, this next chapter is the next-to-last. Hope you like it! Chapter 10: Escape On the first day, Jonathan took Pete around town. They asked everyone they met if they'd seen Clark, or the two men that had taken him. Nobody had. The police were baffled by the sudden disappearance of the farmboy and the inability of their investigators to find any trace of him or his kidnappers. By the second day, Chloe had exhausted every resource available to her. All she had come up with were dead ends. Pete and Jonathan had widened their search radius as far as Metropolis, and still they came up short. Lana stayed with Martha, making phone calls and waiting for any news. Still none came. It was the third day, and they finally had something of a lead. Some friends of Martha's up in New York had also reported someone missing, and suspected LuthorCorp. They promised to help in any way possible, but everyone doubted it would be much help. At least, not as much help as their next plan of action. As soon as he'd heard what happened, Lex began digging through LuthorCorp files and records, searching for clues. Finally, he'd struck gold. ”œThe Phoenix Operation was an extraterrestrial research program jointly funded by LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises back when the first meteor shower hit Smallville,”
  5. Hm... I copied it from FF.net, where I also have it posted, and the special characters must have been automatically omitted... Meh... I'll fix it. And sorry it was so long. I honestly have no idea how that chapter got that long. Fortunately, it is the longest chapter, so none of the rest will be that long. Hee hee.... Yup. Somewhere in my subconscious, I meant to do that. But seriously, have you ever read a book by Tom deHaven called It's Superman!? That's really where I got the inspiration to have Clark smoking in the first place. Either way, it's a totally awesome book. You should read it if you get the chance. I came across it by total accident at the library. Anyways... Bonus points for being a detective! Yeah, he can't fly yet. Who knows? Maybe in the next one I'll have him learn to fly... (Suddenly remembers an injoke my brother and I came up with just recently) More points to you! You've earned a cookie. And now, here is more for you to enjoy! This was the first chapter that was not beta read, and also the first chapter that Tiana has not read yet. Chapter 9: Nightmare Come True The smell of smoke had faded from the barn and been replaced once again by the sweet aroma of fresh-cut hay. Lana didn't notice. Sitting alone in an abandoned stall, she hugged her knees to her chest and cried. An hour had gone by and she hadn't moved. Lionel Luthor has Clark! That was all that had been going through her head in all that time. She hadn't even made it to the house to tell the Kents, she was in so much shock. The heavy guilt of her betrayal had eased when she overheard the two men talk about the truth serum, but it hadn't left completely. Now, as she sat here, she recalled her conversation with Clark earlier that morning. They'd talked about a lot of things. He'd described for her the pain that the meteor rocks inflicted on him. The hundreds of fragments in the back of the van rose foremost in her memory, and she winced at the thought of the torment they would bring. A burning sensation began at the back of her eyes. Blinking rapidly several times and rubbing her eyelids, she noticed that her eyes were relatively dry. The tears had evaporated. Another thought rose to her mind. What if he actually dies this time? This new scenario sent her into a fresh state of panic. A warm sensation flashed through her body and settled in her temples. Again, her eyes began to burn. She squeezed them shut, but that just made it worse, so she opened them again. A new sense of shock and panic presented itself in the form of the seemingly spontaneous combustion of the straw bedding right in front of her. The flames quickly climbed and increased in intensity. Quickly getting to her feet, she soon realized that she was trapped. The fire blocked the entrance to the stall. The sound of a voice drifted in over the crackling of burning hay. ”œJonathan, the barn's on fire!”
  6. Yes, your assumption was correct. And I suppose it could be seen as similar to Magician's Nephew, but it wasn't particularly what I had in mind. Very good. It is indeed where she lives currently, but not where she is from.
  7. Yes, unfortunately that will probably be the only time we see Lex the way we'd prefer to see him. And that was, in fact, Lex's father. If you thought that was long, just wait 'til you read this one... This was, I believe, the last chapter that I had a beta for. Chapter 8: Lois and Levitas Chloe, Pete, and Lana met early the next morning at the Talon. The doors were still locked, but there were a couple waitresses already there, starting up the coffee machines behind the counter and preparing for the morning rush. Lana had asked them to cover for her this morning, and the coffeeshop was due to open in half an hour. Sitting at a table in a far corner with mugs of fresh cappuccino, the three friends were busy discussing the day ahead of them. Chloe had a collection of notes from the previous day, and was rattling them off, keeping her voice low to keep from being overheard. "All right, so far for abilities we have superspeed, superstrength, heat vision, x-ray vision, and invulnerability. He's affected by both types of meteor rocks. The green are the more deadly, but the red are by far the more dangerous." "Definitely," Lana said, nodding. Ignoring her, Chloe continued. "He came down with the meteor shower of 1989 in a ship that landed in Riley's Field. The Kents found him and took him in. The adoption was made legal by none other than Lionel Luthor himself. And here we are, thirteen years later." Lana turned to Pete. "And we don't have any idea where he's from, exactly?" "Nah, I've told you guys everything he knows," he replied, shaking his head. "We don't know if there are any others like him around, or it he's the last one. We don't even know where his planet is." "So, he could be from some distant galaxy far, far away, or the Martians could finally be invading." The others stared at Chloe, clearly not getting the joke. "Sorry. Overstepping my boundaries again." Shaking her head in confusion, Lana decided it would be a good time to change the subject. "Okay, so, Chloe, when is your cousin supposed to show up?" "Wait a minute! Your cousin is coming? The one from Metropolis?" Chloe nodded. "Yeah, she called yesterday, asking about coming to pay a visit. Fortunately my dad wasn't at home. I convinced her to cover for me, on one condition. We have to introduce her to Clark." "Why?" "I believe her exact words were, 'Any guy who smokes and doesn't care what his parents might think about it is definitely worth a look.'" Chloe shrugged indifferently. "She's a little bit strange. Not Wall of Weird, mind you, but definitely on the odd side of normal. And she hates journalism." Pete smiled. "I can see why you two don't talk much," he said. "So, when's she coming?" "Well, she's supposed to be here in time for us to go see Clark, but she tends to run late." The sound of Chloe's phone ringing made them all jump. Curious who could be calling her so early, she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was female, and she was yelling loud enough for everyone at the table to hear her. "Hey, Chlo, you did say the Talon, right?" Chloe grimaced and momentarily pulled the phone away to protect her ringing eardrum. Putting it gingerly back up to her ear, she answered, "Yeah, the Talon. And you were supposed to be here ten minutes ago." "Well, I just got here, and the place is still closed! How am I supposed to get in? The doors are locked." "One minute. Lana?" But she was already getting up on her way to the front entrance. Chloe mouthed a grateful thank you and returned to the phone. "Just hang on, Lois. The manager's on her way over to unlock them for you." "All right, I see her. Talk to you in a minute, cuz'." The line went abruptly dead. Slowly, Chloe folded her phone and placed it back in her bag. Pete looked amused. "Is she always that loud?" "Yup." Lana returned shortly with another girl in tow. Tall and well-built, Lois Lane looked like the kind of girl whose strength out proportions her skinny frame. Long, light brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing a pretty face and a pair of deep-set, commanding green eyes. She was wearing a salmon-colored tank and a pair of well-worn old jeans cut off just below the knees. "The apartment is right up there," Lana was saying, pointing to a flight of stairs that led to a second floor. "Here are the keys." She pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Lois, who slipped them into her jeans pocket without so much as a second glance. Lois lost no time in getting straight to the point. "When do I get to meet this guy?" Deep and clipped, her voice was just a shade raspy. "We were just on our way over there," Chloe replied just as curtly. Shuffling her notes into a folder and out of sight, she placed them in her bookbag and slung it over her shoulder. "Come on, we can use my car." Once outside, the four of them piled into Chloe's red Volkswagen, Pete and Lana in the back, Lois up front, Chloe driving. As they pulled away from the curb, Lana remembered something. "Oh, Chloe, I hope you don't mind, but I have to be back by three. I have an interview with this guy named Adam Knight. He applied for a job at the Talon last night." Chloe nodded. "Shouldn't be any trouble at all. I don't think Lois will want to stay long, anyway." "Why, is this guy totally boring?" "Well, I wouldn't say boring. Just... not all that exciting," Chloe replied cryptically. Lana and Pete shared a glance in the back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gravel crunched under the tires of the Volkswagen as it rolled to a stop in the long driveway. The four teens stepped out and gathered in something vaguely resembling a circle near the barn door. Lois glanced around curiously. Well, this sure is a long way from the military base," she muttered. Chloe grinned in amusement. "He's usually up in the barn loft. I'll go get him." A hand fell onto her arm. "Wait," Lana murmured, her gaze fixed on the nearby eastern field. A silhouetted truck sat several yards from the open gate. A long figure was busily unloading hay from the back. Chloe figured it must be Jonathan ”” ”” Until Jonathan exited the barn and came up behind them. "Hey, kids." Turning to Lois with a curious yet critical eye, "Who's this?" "Oh, this... this is my cousin, Lois Lane. Lois, this is Jonathan Kent." Lois shook the offered hand politely, but kept her mouth clamped shut, eying the farmer. "She's visiting from Metropolis for a while, so I figured she might like to meet Clark while she was here." "Out in the field, doing chores." He pointed a gloved hand in the direction on the figure and the truck. "Thanks, Mr. Kent." Chloe led Lana and her cousin away toward the gate with a smile. This should get interesting. Jonathan noticed Pete hanging back a little awkwardly. "Not going with them?" he asked. "Nah, I'll let the girls have him right now." A pause followed in which the two men watched the girls chit-chat amongst themselves as they made their way to the field. "How's he doing?" he asked at last, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen. "Better." Pulling off his work gloves, Jonathan ran a hand through his short, sandy-blonde hair. "Much better. Whatever you said to him yesterday, it set him straight, more or less. He actually came into the house last night. Stayed and had breakfast with us this morning. Went and started his farm chores instead of heading straight for the loft afterwards. We appreciate everything you've done for him, Pete, we really do." The young man just shrugged it off. "I'm just glad I could help fix this whole mess. Besides, I felt like this was my fault in the first place." "Everyone feels that way about it, Pete. But the fact of the matter is that... Well, it was just one of those things that happens. No one person was to blame for it. Every one of us is to fault, and yet, at the same time, nobody is. All we can do now is just stick together and plow through this until it's all over." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark paused in his work and watched the girls approaching. He was glad to see Lana and Chloe. In fact, he'd been hoping they'd show up since he had finally resolved to tell them the complete and honest truth, start to finish, regardless of what they might think. But this other girl, she might make things difficult. Sure, she looked pretty enough from where he was standing, but she also looked like trouble. Already he was pretty sure he wouldn't like her very much. Not to mention that Chloe must have told her about him, and that's why she was on her way over. Well, that puts a damper on things, he thought, pulling a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and taking a seat on the open tailgate. Guess it's time to put the act on. But this is the last time. As soon as she was within earshot, Chloe spoke up. "Hey, Clark! My cousin came from Metropolis for a visit. I thought you might like to meet her." He shrugged indifferently, slipping easily back into his listless disinterest. At first she was a bit confused by this. Her impression had been that he had moved past this phase already. But when she caught sight of the stolen glances between Lana and the farmboy, she got the hint and decided it would be best to get the introductions over with as soon as possible and leave the two alone. "OK, then," she began, feeling the awkward silence weighing heavily in the air. "Lois, this is Clark Kent. Clark, this is my cousin, Lois Lane." Clark nodded politely, but he never took his eyes off of Lana. He watched her carefully, like a wild animal ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. The looks she was giving him were undecipherable. A million questions ran through his head. Does she know? Did Chloe remember? Did Pete tell them? Why does she keep looking at me like that? He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Lois' voice. "So, you're a smoker?" she asked, indicating the lit cigarette in his hand. Slightly annoyed that she was still there, he finally glanced in her direction. "Not for long." Her bright green eyes demanded attention, but he denied it, returning his gaze to Lana's hazel orbs. Lois didn't give up. "Yeah, that's what I said three years ago." Chloe decided now was as good a time as any to split. Tugging at Lois' elbow, she motioned in the direction of the little yellow farmhouse. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Mrs. Kent." Lois followed reluctantly, but as they turned away, she leaned over and hissed, "What's his deal, Chlo?" She sighed. "Clark's been in love with Lana since he was, like, three. Things are just starting to work out between them. I think it's best to let them have some time alone right now." "Wow. Don't think I've ever heard anything so half-hearted from you. You OK, cuz'?" A shrug was Chloe's natural response to the question she'd been asking herself for some time. "I thought I had feelings for him. He asked me to the Spring Formal last year. But it turns out we were just meant to be friends. He'll never look at me the way he looks at Lana." "Oh. I'm sorry, I had no idea." Another shrug. "It's no big deal. But I held up my end of the bargain, Lo, so don't say anything." "Ok, all right, I won't breathe a word. But you were right. He isn't very exciting at all." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark dropped the act when the girls were halfway to the gate. Putting out the cigarette in the palm of one hand, he tossed it to the ground and turned to Lana. That was it. He was ready to stop now. Stop smoking and stop lying to her. It was time for the truth. All of it. But first, there was a burning question he just had to ask her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Head shaking, she just kept staring at him. There was no way to gauge what she was thinking. At last, struggling for words, she spoke. "I... just... It's like... there's this whole side of you I've never seen before. Almost like you're a whole different person underneath the mask you put on for everybody else." He hung his head. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. "I take it Chloe told you." "She said something along the lines of 'The Martians are finally invading.'" The smile on her face put him at ease. He slid over as she hoisted herself up onto the tailgate next to him, sliding her arm around behind his back. "And you don't mind?" he asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "No, not at all." Leaning her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, pulling his other arm around her. She felt safe here, wrapped in his strong arms. Nothing in the world could reach her here. Nothing at all. And she knew he would never let anything happen to her. She snuggled in closer, and he laid his head gently on hers. Both could feel the love and pleasure of each other's company pulsing between them. The rhythm and life it took on was invigorating. The feelings, of course, had always been there, kept in check by the obstacles of distrust and lies. But now they were unhindered, flowing with a passion and vibrance that did not require words to express. At last they were truly happy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back at the Talon, Lana glanced over the paperwork one last time. She had thoroughly enjoyed her morning at the Kents', but the feeling of ecstasy her conversation with Clark had put her in had made it near impossible to focus on anything else for the rest of the day. This interview, however, was extremely important, so she forced herself to keep her scatter-brained thoughts as much in line as she could. Glancing up at the young man on the other side of the counter, she smiled. He had short, ruddy-brown hair and dark bushy eyebrows that nearly hid his small blue-green eyes. Those eyes stared at her now, cold and calculating, as if gauging her for something. The warm smile that graced his hard face seemed out of place, yet nothing appeared as if it ought to be out-of-the-ordinary. Was he here looking for information? She shrugged it off and mentally scolded herself for being so paranoid. But since she'd found out about Clark, it had been so easy to worry about accidentally slipping up. "Well, Adam, everything seems to be in order," she said pleasantly, successfully hiding her nervousness. "But the work history on your rsum was a little unclear. Have you had any past experience in the coffee business?" "So, we're turning this into a full-blown interview, then?" His reply caught her off-guard. "Well, yeah. Do you have a problem with that? After all, I like to know a little about my employees before I hire them." "And I like to know a little about my employer before I take the job," he shot back, not unkindly. Is he trying to flirt with me? "Fair enough." "All right, then. No, I don't have any past experience in the coffee business. How about you?" Lana smiled a little. "Well, I've been running this place for about a year. Isn't it obvious?" In what was clearly an attempt to keep her at ease, Adam casually leaned against the back of his seat. "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Yes." The answer was out of her mouth before she even thought about it. Had she meant to say that? She must have, because she said it. With all the care she was taking about what came out of her mouth, it must have been what she was going to say. There you go, being paranoid again. "What's his name?" Is that any of your business? "Clark Kent." That hadn't been what she'd meant to say. She wiped the look of surprise quickly off her face, but it was too late. A smug smile crept onto his face to replace the warm, kind, fake one. "Is he normal like everyone else, or is he one of the town's meteor weirdoes?" Oh, he's perfectly normal. There's nothing strange about him. "Neither." She clamped a hand over her mouth. She'd said too much, and she didn't even know why. "Oh, really? Where's he from?" Desperately, she shook her head. I don't know. I don't know! "I don't kn-know," she sobbed, startled when the words came out of her mouth. Finally, she had control over her own voice again! But she was dismayed to find that the words kept coming. "I just know that he... he came down with the meteor shower." The questions kept coming, faster and faster. And each time her answer was more revealing and harder to resist. "The meteor shower? Did he come from off-planet, then?" No! No, stop it! "Yes, he did." "That would make him an alien, then, wouldn't it?" No! Leave him alone! "Yes. Yes, he's an alien." "Does he have superhuman abilities, too?" Please! Please, just stop... "Yes." "Is there anything in particular that can stop him or kill him?" "Only the... the..." She was sobbing uncontrollably now, tears streaming down her face, head shaking in denial of the question she'd been asked. This was one thing she could never tell him, if anything. But it was useless. The truth was being dragged out of her, piece by piece. "The... the..." "The what? Only the what?" "The... the me... meteor... the meteor rocks." Adam smiled once more and turned to leave. "Thanks, Lana. But I don't think I'll be needing that job anymore." Hesitating, he turned back to her and grabbed her forcefully by the arm, pushing her toward the back door. "Oh, and one more thing," he said quietly. "You're coming with me." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She hadn't screamed or struggled. She'd been too shocked, and too crushed. To the few afternoon Talon customers, it had looked more like a personal argument than a kidnapping. Now she wished she had at least shouted out loud. But by the time she had recovered her wits, they'd duct taped her mouth shut and shoved her into the back of a large black van. After about forty-five minutes of driving, with frequent stops, her back started to cramp. The cold, uncomfortable metal floor of the van dug into her spine and sent sharp pains up her already aching arms. The feeling had already gone from her hands five minutes after they'd been taped together at the wrists. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn't stop crying. She didn't want to stop. It wasn't the cuts and bruises along her arms and legs. At each stop, handfuls of stones and tocks had been thrown in to join her, bouncing carelessly off her body and leaving their ruthless marks. But she didn't care. She'd betrayed him. Would he ever forgive her? Finally, she wrestled the tape from her mouth. Blood from the cuts on her face mixed with her tears and dripped down onto the rocks next to her head. "Clark," she whispered. "Clark, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." The van rolled to a halt once more. As the engine died, she heard the front doors open and close, and then voices. "Ah, man, this headache's getting worse," she heard Adam say. "Shut up, Chad," another man barked. He sounded much older. "You think we got enough of those space rocks?" "Plenty. I just hope he don't die before we get him where we're going. But here's what I don't get. Luthor was on the right track the whole time. Why'd he need me?" "He needed to make sure before he made his move." There was a pause, and then the man shouted, "I told you to shut up! No more talkin' from you 'til that truth serum wears off, hear?" Another pause, and then much quieter, he said, "And don't you be questioning Lionel Luthor, either." "Sure, whatever. Agh, but my head really hurts! How long we got to wait for this kid?" "No idea. But space-boy can't stay hidden forever. And when he shows himself, we'll come up behind him, all quiet-like, and give him a good knock to the head with one of these here rocks. Then we let the girl go, stick him in the back, and take him to Luthor." "But why do we have to wait out her? Why can't we wait in the van?" "Because you won't shut your big mouth! That girl might hear." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sun was beginning to set when Clark finally left the barn and headed for the house. It was getting late, and his parents would start to worry again if he didn't come in soon. He walked slowly, enjoying the cool evening breeze and reveling in the pure joy he'd been feeling since Lana had left. Never once did he notice the dark van parked at the far end of the driveway, nor the two men advancing toward him. What he did notice was the wave of nausea that hit him all of a sudden. He stopped dead in his tracks and doubled over in pain. Meteor rocks. But I thought Mom and Dad got rid of them all. A dull thump resounded in the back of his head, and the next thing he knew, he was being lifted roughly from the ground. His consciousness flickered in and out. There were two men, but he couldn't get a good look at their faces through the mental haze. He remembered stumbling at least once, and being shoved harshly back to his feet. Now they were pushing him into the back of a vehicle. Someone was screaming his name. Lana was screaming. The radiation was increasing, and he could hardly breathe. But somehow he managed to speak, though it only came out in a low, hoarse whisper. "Lana... Lana, run... run!" And she did. The moment Adam removed the tape from her wrists she was off, tearing down the driveway toward the farmhouse. For a moment, it seemed as if all time stood still for her. Not even the sound of her footfalls broke the dead-air silence that surrounded her. And then she glanced back over her shoulder, and the world was moving again. She was about halfway to the house. Adam was still standing exactly where and how he had been, the long strip of duct tape still in his hands. Jogging to a stop outside the barn, she stood rooted to the spot, staring at nothing as the van drove away. What just happened to me?
  8. Hey, great job on the FanFic cast! I enjoyed it immensely. Though I seem to have been skipped in the introductions at the beginning... I was muchly happy to hear my story mentioned later on, though. And you pronounced my name correctly, too! Yay! I, also, have a mic, and would be willing to do an interview if anyone was remotely interested in listening to me. Not that I would have the slightest clue as to how an interview would work, but... And, pertaining to the voices, I would have gotten you mixed up had you not introduced yourselves at the beginning... But I am new here, so that doesn't really mean anything. Again, great job! Can't wait to hear the next one!
  9. I love that song too. That is why I used it. I used to play it over and over on my CD player... Ah, the good old days... Now I've got so many songs on my Mp3 player, it often gets shuffled down... Meh... We're nearing the big climax now, so buckle those seatbelts and hang on tight. Please keep you arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. No food or drink beyond this point. Please turn all cell phones to silent. No flash photography. Thank you! Chapter 7: Rising from Ashes Martha climbed the last few steps to the loft and took a good look around. She had never seen the place in such disarray. Papers were scattered every which-way across the desk and the floor. Clark's telescope, the one Jonathan had given him, lay partially assembled and neglected by the window, as if he had been taking it down and gotten bored halfway through. School books lay in a haphazard heap on the old leather sofa. The ashtray on the wooden trunk... Ashtray? She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Clark Jerome Kent!" Now she understood why Pete thought that they should talk to Clark. But her alien son was nowhere to be seen. "What, has he developed camouflaging powers now?" she muttered to herself. She called his name again, louder this time. "My goodness, when I find that boy, he is going to be in so much..." "Out here, Martha!" she heard her husband calling. She practically stormed down the stairs and out of the barn to where Jonathan was waiting. He glanced at her once and nodded in the direction of the barn she had just exited. There was Clark, sitting on the roof and gazing out into the distant fields with that empty stare that had so recently become the norm for him. "Don't bother him now, Martha," the farmer whispered. "Whatever Pete said to him did him a world of good. He hasn't come down from the loft except to eat until now." She gave him a look that said, Well, he hasn't exactly come down yet. "Ok, maybe he's not down, but he's out," he amended. "And by the looks of it, something Pete said has him thinking." "Jonathan, he's been smoking in there these past couple weeks!" she whispered back, her motherly worry heightened. He sighed as he thought of what they should do in light of this new information. "We'll catch him when he comes in for dinner tonight and confront him about it. I'm sure our son has a very good explanation." "But we've tried to catch him before. He always waits until we've gone to bed before coming into the house, you know that." Mr. Kent turned and steered his wife toward the house, still whispering. "Then we'll turn off the lights and wait up for him." He paused for a moment, then went on, still keeping his voice low. "Do you remember last year when we came home to find the house trashed, and we watched him rushing around trying to get it clean before we got home?" She nodded, smiling slightly at the memory. "Those were the most amusing ten seconds of my life." "Actually, I think it was closer to twenty. And earlier this year, when he took off with my motorcycle, I found him at the school. And, two weeks ago, he tried to commit suicide in the loft, where he knew full well that we would probably find him and try to stop him. There's a part of him that wants to be found, Martha. We just have to keep trying and keep looking. He'll come to us when he's ready." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two men walked down the darkened corridor of the LuthorCorp research center. One wore a white lab coat and carried a clipboard. He had a sturdy frame, dark hair, and a goatee, and he didn't seem at all intimidated by the other. "We haven't finished all of the tests, Mr. Luthor," he stated in an official yet urgent tone. "The subject may not survive." The second man ”” Lionel Luthor ”” stroked his well-trimmed beard in a thoughtful gesture. His hair was long and dark, graying slightly at the sides, and his fine suit hinted at wealthy living. "Chad Nash is an extraordinary young man, doctor," he answered, his voice silky smooth, but with the slightest undertone that suggested a predator on the hunt. He never once raised his voice beyond a low, warning monotone. "I didn't hire you for your moral ethics; I hired you to create an interrogator for me. Now, I'll ask you again. Is the truth serum ready for use?" The man hesitated and considered what might happen to his funding if he gave the wrong answer. "Y-Yes, it is, but I'm currently still working on the antidote..." "I'm not concerned with a cure," Lionel interrupted. "Prepare the subject for release. I will take care of all his social information, so you needn't worry about that. Your only concern is to inject him with the serum tomorrow morning. Is that clear?" The scientist sighed and nodded, stopping in front of a metal door at the end of the hall. "Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning, sir," he confirmed reluctantly. "Good." Lionel smoothed back his long dark hair and smiled. "Very good." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark remained on the barn roof until nightfall. Even after the sun had set and the stars appeared in the night sky, he waited until all the lights went off in the little yellow farmhouse before jumping down to the barnyard below. He made his way slowly up the gravel drive, his quiet footsteps resounding loudly in his ears. Creeping up the squeaky porch steps, he hesitated at the door, listening carefully for any noises coming from inside. Hearing nothing, he eased it open and slipped into the kitchen, shutting it softly behind him. He took a deep breath and looked around the dark house. He knew he could've been in and out of there in no time at all if he used his superspeed, but, for some unexplainable reason, he didn't. He glanced up at the wall clock over the dining room table. It was ten thirty. Silently, he headed toward the stairs to get a clean set of clothes from his room. He'd seen his parents earlier, out in the yard looking for him, and he'd decided that he'd sleep in the loft tonight and talk to them in the morning. He had made it up the first couple of stairs when he heard a noise behind him, and then the kitchen light was turned on. He turned around and there they were, standing by the door through which he had just entered and looking very concerned. "Knew I should've used my x-ray vision," he commented, adding a touch of lightness to his voice to assure them he wasn't going to bolt. he came back down to the bottom step and leaned against the banister, waiting. Jonathan spoke first, keeping his voice low and trying not to sound too upset. "What have you been doing, son? You should have been in hours ago. Heck, you should have been in days ago." Clark nodded and let out the breath he'd been holding. So they didn't already know. "Clark, we've been very worried about you," Martha insisted. "I was just doing some thinking, Mom." Stepping down to the floor, he began moving toward her, hesitating halfway. If she smells the smoke on my clothes, she'll find out, he thought. But I'll have to tell her eventually, anyway. I can't lie to her. Guess I'll just have to break it to them slowly, then. I wish I'd been quicker getting to my room, though. He considered going back to the stairs, but his mother had already closed the distance between them and enveloped him in a warm embrace. "Sure, two weeks worth of thinking," she said, burying her face in his chest. He pulled her close, a little awkwardly, and concentrated on not seeming skittish. He heard her breathe in deeply, and he tensed slightly. "Now," she said, at last pulling away, "why don't you go change those clothes?" Nodding, he gladly complied, turning to continue on up the stairs. The sound of his father's voice stopped him. "And when you get back down here," Jonathan added, "the three of us are going to have a nice long talk." Clark's shoulders sagged when he heard this. So they did already know. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- His parent's voices drifted up into Clark's room from downstairs as he settled into his bed. The lights were already off. They'd been off for a good while now; he was used to it. But tonight was, so far, the first peaceful night he'd spent up here in what seemed like forever. Of course, he had been spending nights up here, but it had always been short, waking up at three in the morning so that he was sure to be out of the house before his dad got up. But not tonight. Tonight he could sleep peacefully. He closed his eyes and listened as his parents continued their conversation in low voices on their way up the stairs. "I think that was very nicely handled." It was his mother speaking. She sounded relieved, but tired. He realized then how worried she'd been about him. "Except for the part where you told him he could stop smoking when he was ready," she went on. "Martha, you heard him. It doesn't affect him. He needs some way of venting his feelings, or he might try to..." Jonathan couldn't bring himself to mention their previous trying ordeal to his wife. "When he's ready, he will stop." Clark's consciousness began to slip. Just before he dozed off, he heard his mother say, "I know, Jonathan. I know. I just hate to see him like this." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark woke up and felt a cold hard surface beneath him. When he tried to sit up, he found his arms and legs were strapped down. Panic started to set in. Alright, calm down, he told himself. You can break out of this, no problem. Just snap right out. He strained against the wide straps that held him down, just a little at first, and then with all his strength. The bindings held firm. The radiation hit him just as he became fully aware of his surroundings. He was in a small, dark room, with one door and only a single, dim florescent light hanging from the ceiling over his head. The flat metal surface he lay on was, in fact, a lab table, and his arms were strapped down to it in two places each, his legs in three, and his torso by a cold metal band across his chest, which was too tight and constricted his breathing. Or was that from meteor radiation? Again, his attention was drawn to the constant dull pain in his chest and legs. Every muscle throbbed, every vein and artery strained to pump blood through his aching body. His heart rate was slow, his breathing labored. He could almost feel the poison moving through his bloodstream. For he knew that's where it must be. This was no external torment like it had always been before; this pain came from within. The door to his prison opened with a jarring clank. Attempts to turn his head in order to see who had entered were futile. The muscles in his neck simply would not obey. His mind seemed sluggishly slow, fogged up. The alertness he had achieved upon first waking had quickly slipped. Now his awareness was evaporating. Had the sound of the door opening jarred him from sleep? Or had he already been awake? He could no longer tell. The sound of a young man's voice traveled across the room to his ears, but his brain was slow to register the words that were spoken. "How are we doing today, Clark?" The voice was very familiar, but he just couldn't put a face to it in his hazy state of mind. After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a matter of seconds, the face that it belonged to appeared in his line of vision. "Still awake, I see." It was Lex Luthor. "Lex," he hissed between teeth clenched together against the pain. "Yeah, Clark, it's me," Lex replied, nodding his bald head and fixing Clark with a cold stare. His voice quickly went from casual to a mocking taunt that sent shivers down the unfortunate farmboy's aching spine. "You know, you really should have told me sooner. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore, does it?" "Lex... please... get me out of here," Clark managed to whisper. His friend didn't seem to hear him. "Ready for another dose, Clark?" "What... what are you talking about?" He was gasping for air now; the metal band seemed to be getting tighter and tighter around his chest. Each breath burned in his lungs like an unquenchable fire. A sickly evil smile graced Lex's normally friendly face as he held up a syringe of glowing green liquid. "You're losing your memory, I see," he commented, pulling the plastic guard off the needle. "Then I suppose you don't remember what I did to Lana just before I locked you up in here." Clark's heartbeat increased slightly and his eyes widened in fear. A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. The thought of something happening to the girl that he loved seemed to give him a temporary burst of strength. But it wasn't enough. "What did you do to her?" "You don't remember? Come on, you were screaming about it for months!" "Tell me what you did!" Lex smiled again and held up the syringe. "Maybe this meteor rock injection will jog your memory. Maybe it'll kill you instead. Or, maybe, it will mercifully do both." He inserted the needle into Clark's arm and injected the poisonous fluid into his bloodstream. "I highly doubt it, though." The ensuing torture was more intense than anything he had ever experienced in his life. A series of sharp pains in his chest caused his entire body to spasm. His arms and legs jerked against their restraints. A scream was sure to have erupted from his throat had it not already closed up and cut off his breathing. A deadly chill crept over him and plunged his mind into darkness... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. When he felt the mattress give beneath his hands, he relaxed some. It was just another nightmare. The same nightmare he'd had for six nights straight. He sighed and rolled over, pulling a pack of cigarettes from under the pillow. After a moment's hesitation, he put them back again. That wasn't what he needed. It wasn't even what he wanted. What was the point? Besides, his mother had made it explicitly clear that she didn't want him smoking in the house. Hanging his feet over the edge of the bed, he sat up and put his face in his hands. All of this -- the nightmares, the depression, his friends and family constantly worrying about him -- he hadn't asked for any of it. Well, that's what you get for trying to kill yourself without thinking it through first. Except that he had thought it through. He had wanted his life to end, simple as that. Beyond that, he hadn't been thinking about anything else. And he certainly hadn't been considering the possibility that he might fail, or what might happen afterwards. Now he was dealing with the consequences. With a sigh, he got to his feet and went to the window, staring out at the yard directly below him, and the fields beyond stretching out to meet the sky at the horizon. "Sure is a long way to the edge of the world," he muttered. "It sure is." He fairly jumped out of his skin when he heard his father's voice behind him. Spinning around, he saw Jonathan standing in the doorway. "Sorry, son, I didn't mean to scare you. Your mother and I heard you yelling. I came to see if you were all right." Clark sighed and went back to the bed, sitting down heavily on the edge. "It was just a nightmare." "The same one?" He nodded. "This wasn't the first time you've heard me." It wasn't a question. "Every night for the past week." Jonathan sat next to his son on the bed. "We were afraid you'd run off if we ever came in, so we didn't." He paused to study the boy beside him. "What's on your mind, son?" Clark took a deep breath and waited for the words to come to him. When they did, he spoke slowly. "I knew it would take me a while to recover," he said. "But... I don't know. I guess I just didn't think it would take this long. It's been two weeks, and I don't feel like I've gotten anywhere. I'm stuck in a rut, and I can't get out." Drawing a stuttering breath, he turned at last and looked his father straight in the eye. "I don't think I can do this on my own anymore." Placing a hand on Clark's shoulder, Jonathan nodded. "You're not alone, Clark. We'll help you get through this together, as a family. Things are going to get better." "I hope so, Dad. I sure hope so."
  10. I just wish bad chapters didn't happen. Meh... And the reason I update so often is because this story is finished, and I'd like to get it up as soon as possible so Tiana can finish reading it (she was my beta for a while, but she didn't get to read the last few chapters). Anyway, on to the next chapter. This one is a bit longer than the others, and a little better written, I think. One note I would like to add is that I DO NOT in ANY WAY support smoking. I have lost two of my grandparents within the last six months to cancer, most likely caused or worsened by smoking. There, I said it. Now on to the next chapter! Chapter 6: Smoke and Mirrors I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind I left my body lyin' somewhere in the sands of time I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon I feel there's nothing I can do If I go crazy, then will you still call me Superman? If I'm alive and well, will you be there holdin' my hand? I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might Kryptonite You called me strong, you called me weak But still your secrets I will keep You took for granted all the times I never let you down You stumbled in and bumped your head If not for me, then you'd be dead I picked you up and put you Back on solid ground --Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down Two weeks later... Pete Ross wandered into the Kent barn in search of his best friend. It had been two weeks since they'd seen each other, and, especially with the latest news that Clark had recently tried to kill himself, Pete had been so worried about the teenage alien that he had been unable to focus on much else. Finally, he decided it was time to pay a visit. "Clark?" Two weeks ago, Pete had been infected with the adrenal parasite, just like Chloe, and had gone nearly out of his mind. He had been the one who had slipped the farmboy a piece of red meteor, and he had been the one who had begged to expose his friend's secret to Chloe. As a result, he felt partly responsible for the current circumstances. "Clark! You in here, man?" As far as the dark-skinned boy knew, he had stopped by the Kent farm the night he got out of surgery to apologize for what happened. He knew that Clark intended on going to the Talon the next day to talk to Lana about their ruined date. Two days later, he got a call from the Kents telling him that Clark was in a critical mental state, and that he had just tried to use green meteor rocks to commit suicide. Pete had stayed away, because he had figured that Clark would need some space and time to recover. Now he wished he hadn't. "Are you up there, Clark?" When he got no reply, he headed up the stairs, remembering what Mr. and Mrs. Kent had told him. He's up in the loft. He spends almost all his time up there now. He hasn't been the same since that day at the Talon. Sure, you can go talk to him. It would probably do him a lot of good. Just be careful what you say. His mental and emotional condition is extremely fragile. Saying the wrong thing might set him off. He stopped and cleared his throat quietly. Why does the barn smell like smoke? Shrugging it off, he went on up the stairs, his previous train of thought continuing. Chloe and Lana had been visiting Clark quite often in the past couple weeks, and the blonde reporter had apparently set him off with the lead box again just by asking for help with her coat zipper. Since then, Jonathan and Martha had carefully hidden or gotten rid of any meteor rocks on the property, and the girls were especially careful not to mention anything even remotely related to the incident, which considerably shortened their list of available conversation topics. Already they had been sure to avoid girlfriends, dates, meteor freaks, anything related to the Torch or Chloe's Wall of Weird, coffee, and rocks -- especially the meteor rocks. Pete coughed once and wondered again why the smell of smoke hung so heavy up here. He climbed the last few steps and just stood there taking in the scene before him. Clark sat on the old, beat-up leather couch, feet propped up on the wooden trunk that served as a coffee table, staring into space like nothing mattered anymore. And, as far as he was concerned, that was probably not far from the truth. He held a cigarette in one hand. "Clark, man, since when did you start smoking?" Pete asked with a good measure of disbelief. "Since two weeks ago," came the reply. Empty green eyes shifted their careless gaze his way, then went back to staring at nothing. His voice was raspy and emotionless. "Do your parents know?" "Nope." The answer might have been casual, even flippant or cocky, if his entire demeanor didn't scream listless. "Come on, man, what are doing? Trying to..." He caught himself just in time. "To what? To kill myself?" Clark looked almost amused, but the empty look never left his eyes. "You can go ahead and say it. I'm not as crazy as my parents seem to think." He took one last drag at the cigarette, then stamped it out in the ashtray that sat on the trunk next to his feet. "Besides," he went on, "that was two weeks ago. I haven't lost my sanity, Pete. I just needed some time to think. Something happened to me two weeks ago, and I need to figure it out. Until then, this is how I'm dealing with it. My parents wouldn't understand." He leaned back again and draped his arms on the back of the couch. He had become indifferent to everything. Pete shook his head, fumbling for something to say. "Look, man, I'm not sure I understand why you're doing this, but if you are trying to kill yourself again, you might as well give it up. That stuff isn't going to hurt you. Chloe's got a cousin that's been smoking for three years now, and she's still healthy. Smoking's not even going to put a dent in your health. You're an alien for crying out loud. You're immune to everything!" "Not trying to kill myself, Pete," Clark assured him. "And I'm not addicted. It's a conscious choice. I told you, this is how I'm dealing with it. I just..." He shook his head and sighed. "I just don't know what's wrong with me. It's like I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore." Pete looked hard at his best friend. "I know what's wrong with you," he said at length. "You're messing with your own head, that's what's wrong. Lana thought you were a meteor freak, and now you've convinced yourself that you're some kind of alien monster. That's why you can't look at yourself in the mirror, because you're afraid. You're afraid you'll see a monster staring back at you, right in the eye. Man, that's what comes from not telling people the truth! You've told them part of it, why not tell them the rest?" Clark shook his head again. "That would just make things worse." "Clark, sooner or later Chloe's going to remember. She's remembered everything else so far, and so've I. And when she does remember, she's going to tell Lana. They're going to find out. And I have a feeling they're going to understand a lot better than you think." Clark pursed his lips and remained silent. Turning around, Pete started back down the stairs, but at the first landing stopped and looked back. "I'd start looking at myself in the mirror before I decide what I look like." All Clark said was, "Just don't tell my parents about the smoking. I'd rather be able to explain it to them before they get too upset." Pete nodded understandingly. Without another word, he left his alien friend alone with his thoughts once more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "How did you..." "Do that?" "What are you?" "Let's just say I'm not from around here." Chloe turned to Pete eagerly. "You knew about this?" she asked excitedly. Pete just smiled. "He's my brother... from another planet!" he said in reply. She just shook her head and let her mouth hang open. She had nothing else to say. Clark laughed. "You should see the look on your face right now," he commented. "Oh my gosh," she said at last. Then a little louder, "This is so cool!" She paused for a moment as a thought came to her. "Can you fly?" Pete burst out laughing. "Whoa, wait a minute," Clark said quickly. "I may be an alien, but I'm not a cartoon." She smiled mischievously and climbed up on the loft railing. "If I fall, will you catch me?" "Go for it." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After leaving the Kent farm, Pete headed back to Smallville High to meet Lana and Chloe at the Torch office. "Well, Chloe. I did just what you told me," he said, flopping into the chair at his desk. "I went to talk to him." Chloe was setting up the layout for the next issue, and Lana, who had been filling in for Clark the last couple weeks, was at his computer typing up a last-minute article. The blonde editor nodded. "That's good," she said absently, her mind currently on the task of meeting her deadline. "Then I told Mr. and Mrs. Kent that they should probably go talk to him," he went on, deciding quickly to take the opportunity and momentarily skip a narrative of his conversation with Clark. The reaction was not what he expected. Both girls instantly stopped what they were doing and stared at each other with terrified expressions on their faces. "You did what, Pete?" Lana asked incredulously, turning her terrified stare on him. "Whoa, let's not hit the panic button just yet," Chloe said quickly, cutting them both off. "As long as he knows it wasn't us that dropped the bomb, we should be okay." "Is there something else going on that I should know about?" Pete asked, clearly frustrated. Chloe seemed hesitant. "Well," she began slowly, "Clark didn't want us to tell anyone, but since you went to see him today, you probably already know." She paused and glanced at Lana before continuing. "He... he started smoking a couple weeks ago." "You mean he already told you?" Lana nodded. "He also threatened to throw himself into Crater Lake if we ever mentioned it to anyone." Everyone in Smallville knew that Crater Lake was one of the largest sources of green meteors in the state of Kansas. It was where Sean Kelvin had received his heat-sucking abilities the year before, due to the high meteor rock content and a very bad fall through the ice. It was also a pretty good guess for the three friends that Clark would probably drown if he jumped in. Chloe went back to her layouts. "Yeah, and every time we come home from spending the day over there, I have to lie to my dad and tell him I've been spending time with my cousin in Metropolis. If he calls Lois anytime soon, we're in big trouble." Pete nodded. "So, how's the memory thing going?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject. "Actually," Chloe mused, "it's kind of interesting to find out again that your best friend is an alien." Pete's mouth dropped open in shock and Lana smiled quietly to herself. Chloe giggled at his expression. "That was actually what we were just talking about before you came in. Don't worry; I'm not upset about you guys keeping it a secret. Well, I mean, I am upset that you didn't tell me, but I understand why you didn't. You can't have a couple adrenal junkies like us going around town blabbing something like that!" "Chloe, that's not funny!" he snapped, looking completely dejected. The smile fell immediately from her face. "I know, that was... That was totally uncalled for, and I... I completely stepped over the line that time." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Chloe, it's just that... Well, it was me that slipped him the red meteor rock, 'cause I knew what it would do to him. He trusted me with his secret, and I... I let him down." Lana swiveled her chair around and Chloe pulled up another one to join the circle. "I think we all played a part in this," Lana said quietly. "We are all four of us to blame for what's happened in the past couple weeks. But if anyone can claim the majority of the responsibility, it's me. You three had no control over your actions." Chloe sighed and nodded. "I hate to say it, but I can't argue with that," she said. "But, regardless, we're all still going to do everything we can to help Clark get through this. We have to; it's the least we can do." Chloe glanced back and forth between her two friends for support. Pete nodded in agreement. "You're right. I've already let him down once. I'm not going to let it happen again." Lana pursed her lips in thought. "I've already caused enough trouble," she said at last. "I think it's about time I repaired the damage. Clark's always been there for me when I needed him. It's my turn now." A triumphant smile crept onto Chloe's face, instantly brightening the moods of the other two. Pete actually smiled. "All right," he said, "I think we should go see Clark tomorrow, all of us." "Great idea!" Chloe exclaimed, jumping to her feet to fetch paper and some pencils. "But first, we need to collaborate our knowledge. Pete, you're going to tell us all that he told you, everything you know. I want to know where he came from, what he can do, what his biological parents were like, how he got here, why the meteor rocks affect him like they do. We need to get organized..." His smile widened. "That's Chloe, always taking charge!" "And for once, I'm not sure I mind," Lana replied, laughing.
  11. I'm sorry these two chapters (4 and 5) are so short. They're not my particular favorites, but they're kind of necessary to the story. And I'll warn you now, there's some rather disturbing imagery in this chapter, which is part of the reason for the PG-13 rating on this story. Chapter 5: Blood and Tears Lana... Lana, I'm so sorry... Clark was standing in the loft when he heard the footsteps behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, but he turned around anyway. He wanted to see her face. "Lana," he whispered breathlessly when he caught sight of her frightened look. It crushed him to see her looking at him like that. "Lana, I'm so sorry." Tears streamed down her face as she held up her bruised wrist. "You did this, Clark," she said solemnly. "Why did you do it?" He didn't know what to say, what to do. He wanted to make the tears stop. He wanted to make that frightened, disgusted look on her face go away. He couldn't. "I didn't mean to," he begged, shaking his head. "Please. I'm... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she just gave him an empty stare. The vast emptiness and blame in the depths of her hazel eyes scared him to no end. "It's all your fault," she whispered emotionlessly, holding out her injured arm to him. He watched in horror as the dark purple bruise split open, forming a deep cut across her wrist. Blood poured from the now-gaping wound at an alarming rate. He wanted to stop the red liquid cascading down, but found himself rooted to the spot, able to do nothing more than watch. More tears poured from her eyes and fell onto her arm and hand, mixing with the blood and running down to the loft floor. He watched helplessly as it spread across the floor toward him. No, it was crawling across the floor toward him. He wished he could move, could go to her and tell her he was sorry one more time, that he never meant to hurt her. He could not will his feet to move an inch. His throat had closed up. The sticky red substance was now running up his legs, up his chest, down his arms. It completely covered him in a thick layer of despair. It stopped up his nose and filled his lungs. He couldn't breathe. Drowning in sorrow and death, the mixture of blood and tears covered him. Only his eyes were left uncovered. He saw her just stand there, arm outstretched by her side, wrist still dripping blood, tears still spilling from her sad eyes. "Why would you do this, Clark?" she asked him again. "Why? Why'd you do it?" With the thick mixture covering his mouth, he couldn't find the breath or words to answer. Just as blackness was overtaking him, he heard the tone in her voice change. She still sounded sad, but no longer accusatory. She sounded desperate. And she wasn't alone. "You know we love you, Clark. Please. Please, don't give up! You can't leave us. Please. Please, just wake up..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Come on, Clark. Don't give up now." He had stopped breathing again, just as his parents made it to the top of the stairs. First, he had started coughing like he was choking, or like someone had grabbed him around the throat. He'd thrashed around, tearing up chunks of wood from the floor with his bare hands, clawing at his face and his throat. Then, with a stuttering sigh, he lay still. "Come on, Clark," Jonathan muttered again, pumping on his son's chest. "Don't you give up on me now." Martha's heart clenched in fear at the sight of her son's near-lifeless body. She felt like his life was slipping through her fingers. If only they'd gotten here sooner... She smoothed the boy's damp black hair out of his eyes and held his pale face in her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Come on, sweetheart, you can pull through this," she whispered urgently, as if the sound of her voice could bring him back. "Please, honey. Please just wake up." Without warning, Clark's eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright and gasped in a huge lungful of air, then doubled over and began to cough, struggling for oxygen. She placed a hand on his back to support him as the coughing fit racked his body. When it had ended, and he could at last breathe again, he leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows, wiping blood from his mouth with one hand. "Wha... What happened?" he asked with a puzzled expression on his face, still a little out of breath. "We were hoping you could tell us." Jonathan placed a hand on his son's shoulder to steady him. The girls gathered around him with varied expressions of worry on their faces, but they made sure to give him some space to breathe. Martha placed an arm around him almost protectively as his father continued to question him. "Do you have any idea how you ended up anywhere near that meteor rock, son?" Clark glanced at Lana and Chloe, then dropped his gaze to the ground and mumbled incoherently under his breath. Mr. Kent briefly exchanged a knowing look with his wife before turning back to his son. "You want to say that again for us?" Clark sat up and rested his arms on his knees, keeping his head down. "I opened the box." He kept his eyes trained on the floor. Martha's eyes widened with shock as she stared in disbelief at his bowed head. She watched her husband sigh and shake his head. It was becoming difficult for him to keep his calm. "Why would you do that, Clark?" he asked at last, his voice raised slightly from... From what? Concern? Disappointment? Anger? Maybe a mixture of the three? She couldn't tell. Clark glanced at Lana again, as if there was something he wanted to tell her, but instead he shifted his gaze back to the floor. Tears spilled silently from Martha's eyes as she placed a hand gently on her son's back. She hadn't missed the look in his eyes when he glanced up. In that brief moment, she had seen into his thoughts. They say that the eyes are a window to the soul, but his were a window to his heart. Time and again, when he was younger, she had gazed into those green mirrors and wondered at their depth. Now she was saddened by what she saw there. She saw his heart, and it was strained to the breaking point. "Oh, Clark," she whispered, wishing she could take away some of the pain, but knowing that she could not. Nothing could ease the pain her son was feeling. "Clark, please tell us why you did that." He shook his head and blinked away the tears, but not before she saw them. "I... I just... just wanted to make her happy." His voice was low, nearly inaudible, thick and raspy with emotion. "I... I didn't mean to hurt... hurt her. It's all... all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears and curling into himself, rocking slightly a couple of times. "Make it stop," he begged, his voice becoming a little louder, as if something he had seen had frightened him. His tone cut her to the heart. "Please don't look at me like that. Can't make it stop. I can't make it stop bleeding. So much blood. It's everywhere. Blood and tears. Please don't cry anymore. I can't make her stop crying. Mom, make her stop! Make it stop!" He was yelling now, pressing his hands to his eyes in agony. Terror. She hadn't known such fear in a long time, especially not for her son. She was terrified of him, of what he was going through, of what it was doing to him. But she couldn't let it show. Not if it would risk her son more pain. Clark hadn't acted like this since he was eight years old, waking up with nightmares. But he needed her right now, and he needed her to be calm. "Make what stop?" she asked in her soothing, motherly tone, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Who won't stop crying?" Again he glanced up, face streaked with tears, and locked eyes with Lana. And then Martha knew exactly why he had done it. He gazed searchingly at his mother, his breathing shallow. "She asked if I was a freak," he said. She just placed a warm hand on his cheek. For the first time in her life, it seemed, words failed her. "She looked at me like I was a monster. And she was right. I am a freak, and I hurt her just like all the others. I'm better off..." "No, Clark!" Jonathan interrupted sternly, turning the boy's face to him. "You are not a freak. Don't ever say that!" Clark nodded sullenly and returned his gaze to the floor once again. Jonathan sighed and clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Now, let's... Let's all go inside and get this all sorted out." Clark reluctantly got to his feet and followed the others down the stairs. Martha stayed with him, keeping an arm around him in an attempt to comfort and protect him from more pain. But she knew that she could no longer do either. It was a thought that terrified her more than anything, the thought that she could no longer help him, that all she could do was stand by and watch him suffer. No one could pull him out of this depression he had fallen into, not even her, his mother. But her maternal instincts told her she needed to do more.
  12. Well, given the rather dark themes of this story, you kinda need the small bits of humor mixed in. And, yes, Chloe got her hair streaked... I found it amusing, too. Then: First they changed to red when he was under the influence of the crystal, then you said they were green while he was still under it. And lol at the "You're trembling" line...made me think of Star Wars...lol.... One last wonderment before this reply that doesn't make any sense ends: Where did Clark get the piece of Kryptonite and why does he keep it in his room? (sigh) It bothers me, as well, that Lex and Clark were friends at the beginning of the series. The fact that they are now at odds in the current season is making it rather difficult to continue writing this story. However, I'll manage somehow. And I did not say that they changed, I said that they flashed. Though I probably should have added momentarily at the end of that, eh? And the Kents keep chunks of green Kryptonite in lead boxes in the barn for such incidents as this where he happens to get a hold of red Kryptonite. Chapter 4: Don't Dream It's Over There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you'll never see the end of the road While you're traveling with me Hey now, hey now Don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won't win Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof In the paper today tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the T.V. page Hey now, hey now Don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won't win --Don't Dream It's Over by Sixpence None The Richer ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There had been complete silence in the car for the remainder of the trip as each girl was left to her own thoughts. Both were nervous as they pulled up the long gravel drive to the Kent farm. The car rolled in and stopped outside of the barn. Everything seemed normal outside. A peaceful breeze from the south fields brought with it the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay and the sound of birds twittering to themselves in the trees. Even still, something seemed out of place. Chloe took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Alright, I'll go up to the house and talk to the Kents, see if they know where Clark is," she said. "You check the barn, but be careful." Lana nodded and the two girls exited the vehicle and made their way to the indicated destinations. As she made her way up the walk to the house, Chloe took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She knew she had a tendency to talk too fast and too much when she was nervous, and she didn't want to give the Kents the impression that something was wrong. She climbed the short flight of porch steps one at a time and knocked softly on the kitchen door. A middle-aged woman with graying red hair answered with a warm smile on her face. "Hello, Chloe! How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and motherly. Chloe smiled back. "Much better, thank you, Mrs. Kent," she answered politely. She wasn't trying to seem rude or curt, but... "Um, have you seen Clark anywhere? I was wanting to get an interview for the Torch about the whole ordeal from his point of view, since I can't remember a thing." She laughed a little nervously and mentally slapped herself for beginning to ramble. Martha Kent shook her head and frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen him all day. But he might be in the loft. You could check if you'd like." "Thank you, Mrs. Kent," Chloe said, smiling again and nodding. The older woman gave her another warm smile before going back inside the house. Jogging down the porch steps, Chloe picked up her pace to a brisk walk on her way to the barn. Hopefully Lana had found something, and hopefully had not gotten hurt in the process. When she entered the barn door, she caught sight of the dark-haired girl on her way up the stairs to the loft after having executed a thorough search of the ground floor. She was just at the foot of the stairs herself when she heard Lana's scream from the top. "Oh my gosh! Chloe? Chloe, get up here!" Chloe sprinted up the two flights of stairs, stopping short at the sight in front of her. Lana stood right next to her. Several feet in front of them was Clark, lying on his back, looking unconscious and sick. His breathing was low and shallow, his face a sickly pale color. The blood in the veins of his arms seemed to pulse slowly with a deadly green poison. Lana rushed up the last two steps of the raised loft floor and knelt next to him. She pressed a hand to his face and found it feverishly hot. Cold sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead. "He's burning up," she whispered. "Chloe, what's wrong with him?" Frozen in place, the blonde reporter simply shook her head, stuttering while trying to come up with a plausible answer. Time seemed to drag on unbearably long in the face of this. "Uh, well, does he... does he still... have the stone in his pocket?" she asked at last. "Maybe he's having some kind of allergic reaction to... being exposed to it for so long... or something." Lana moved her hand to his chest and reached into his shirt pocket. She could feel nothing there except, of course, his unconscious body beneath her fingers, and his slowly beating heart. "No, it must have fallen out," she said, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact with her room mate. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Do you think he might have done this to himself? Maybe he blamed himself for what happened this morning?" "It's a possibility." Chloe knelt down on the other side of the dying young man and studied him intently. Glancing at the meteor rock, her eyes snapped up to meet tear-filled hazel ones. "It's the meteor rock. The green one," she said firmly. "How do you know that?" Lana asked curiously, raising her eyes to meet her friend's and pulling a lock of raven hair behind her ear. Chloe stood up and moved to a small, empty lead box that lay on the floor, speaking as she went. "Pete punched him outside the Talon with one. Knocked him out cold." The lead box was open and on its side as if it had fallen or been dropped. "He must be allergic to them or something. I wonder if this lead box might block the effects," she added quietly, picking up the box and turning it over in her hand. "It's worth a try," Lana said, picking up the rock as she stood. Chloe held out the box and she dropped the fist-sized fragment into it, quickly snapping the lid shut with a click. Clark's chest heaved and his back arched up off the floor as his lungs sucked in desperately-needed oxygen with an audible gasp of air, as if whatever invisible band had previously constricted his breathing had been suddenly removed. The sickly paleness drained from his face, and his skin returned to its normal color, yet he remained unconscious. "Lana, go get his parents," Chloe whispered urgently. Lana acted immediately, racing down the loft stairs and out the barn door. She tore across the yard to the house, yelling at the top of her lungs for the Kents. Ok, don't panic, she told herself. Don't panic, just hurry. Oh, gosh, I just can't lose him! Chloe set the lead box down on the desk and went back to Clark's side. Her fingers softly caressed his face, still damp with sweat but no longer so warm to the touch. He didn't stir. "You blamed yourself for all this, didn't you Clark?" She knew he probably couldn't hear her, but she needed to talk to keep herself calm. "Why did you do it? It wasn't your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine." She fell silent as she heard footsteps and voices outside the barn. "He's up in the loft," Lana's urgent voice came drifting up the stairs, leading the way into the barn. Jonathan Kent followed, his wife close behind. "We don't know what happened," she went on, walking quickly as possible towards the stairs. "He was lying on the floor when we found him." "What do you mean we?" Jonathan asked sternly, coming to a dead halt. The dark-haired girl reminded herself before she got offended that he was only being protective of his son. "Chloe's up there with him right now," she said calmly. "He and I had... an argument at the Talon this morning, and I felt really bad about it later, so Chloe and I came to see if he was alright. We just wanted to talk with him, that's all." Why, oh why was she being so defensive? They hadn't done anything. But she felt as if she might just as well have. The farmer eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing more as they continued hurriedly up the stairs.
  13. Why, thank you! I'm glad you are enjoying it. If you were that impressed with these first chapters, I'm sure you'll love the later ones. Oh, did I happen to mention to anyone that I'm in the process of writing a sequel? Chapter 3: The Puzzle Chloe Sullivan, the blonde-haired editor of Smallville High's school newspaper, sat on the edge of her bed at Smallville Medical Center, staring at the opposite wall. She was being released today, and as far as she was concerned, it wasn't a moment too soon. She couldn't wait to get back to the Torch and write an exclusive on her own close-and-personal experience with the strange adrenal parasites that had infested some of Smallville's teens. The only obstacle in her way was the memory loss that came with the parasite's extraction. She sighed in frustration. Her article wasn't the only thing this memory loss was standing in the way of. She had a sinking feeling that she had done something terrible to cause a rift in her friendship with Clark, or Lana... or both. But the problem was that she couldn't remember what it was, and neither Clark nor Lana felt it necessary to enlighten her. The door to the room opened and she glanced up to see Lana standing in the doorway, looking slightly shaken yet determined. Chloe visibly brightened at the sight of her roommate. "Hey, Lana!" she called out cheerfully. "What are you doing here?" Lana shrugged and smiled at the perky blonde. "I heard you were getting out today. Figured you could use a ride home." And I'd like to ask you some very disturbing questions about Clark regarding your loss of memory, she thought wryly. Chloe didn't seem to notice her hesitant pause, so she pushed forward. "Um... I was also wondering if you could help me with a problem." Chloe grinned and grabbed her bag, already packed and ready to go. "Sure, whatever you need." She waited but Lana said nothing more. She turned around to find her roommate staring at the floor in what could only be described as a torn state. "Lana, what is it?" Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Lana gave a forced smile. "It's... um... oh, it's..." It's nothing, is what she was going to say, but it just wouldn't come out. "I'll... I'll tell you in the car." Chloe gave her an okay-that-was-odd look, wondering if it had something to do with the day of her life she had missed, and followed the brunette out into the hallway in silence. She was suspicious, yes, but she knew she shouldn't push Lana. The blonde reporter was quite sure there was something bothering her, and, whatever it was, it would soon be revealed. I just wish I didn't have to wait anymore. I've been waiting for long enough in that hospital room for someone to spill the beans. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After a good deal of restless running, Clark ended up in his loft, his fortress of solitude as his dad called it. And that's all he wanted at the moment, to be alone. He couldn't face anyone, not now, not after what he'd done. Once again he had hurt the girl he loved, and once again he blamed only himself. It didn't matter that it had been her that had drugged him with red meteor rocks. It didn't matter that it was her that hadn't believed him, that it was her that kept quiet instead of calling for help. No, he held himself completely responsible for what had happened. If it weren't for me, none of this would've happened, he told himself over and over again. If I were normal like everyone else, I wouldn't have to worry about being affected by the meteor rocks. It's all my fault. It's because I'm different. It's all because I'm an alien. If it weren't for me and my abilities, everyone would be a lot better off. He sat on the couch by the window, staring at the lead box in his hand and contemplating his life and its worth. Mom and Dad wouldn't have to deal with any new abilities anymore. Lana wouldn't have to deal with any more of my secrets, Pete wouldn't have to worry about slipping up to someone, no more late articles from me for Chloe and the Torch, and Lex... well, Lex would just be better off. My friends and family would all be better off without me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Oh my gosh, I cannot believe I did this to my hair!" Chloe had the sun visor down in front of her and was examining herself in the mirror, tugging at the streaks of black in her otherwise golden locks. "What, did I go completely Goth or something?" She turned to Lana, who was staring straight ahead at the road in front of her, as if it could tell her how to start the conversation she needed to have with her roommate. "You've been awful quiet this entire time," Chloe piped up, drawing her attention back into the silent car. "What's on your mind?" Lana took a deep breath and tried to force a smile, but this time it wouldn't come. For what seemed like eternity, she thought about the best way to say what was on her mind. "Chloe," she began tentatively. "Have you... ever noticed... anything strange about Clark?" Chloe almost burst out laughing, but stopped when she saw that Lana was being serious. "Lana, this is Clark we're talking about. If you're wanting to uncover his "big secret", I'm sorry to say that I ran out of ideas a long time ago." She glanced over at the brunette in the driver's seat. Lana's eyebrows were scrunched together in deep thought, her eyes trained on the road, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles had turned white. "Lana?" "Hmm?" Lana shook her head and brought her attention back to Chloe. "Oh, I'm sorry Chloe, it's just... Yesterday, in the Talon, you said that Clark had told you... everything. I was just... just wondering if maybe, by any chance, you might... remember?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she hadn't said them. She knew that the whole memory loss thing was a sore spot for Chloe. But for once she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she actually looked thoughtful, as if what Lana had said had struck a chord in her missing memory, and she was trying desperately to grasp at it. After a long pause, she finally began speaking, slowly at first, but with increasing confidence as the mystery started unfolding itself before her. "Well, first off, I find it rather odd that Clark would open up to me with his big secret just like that, but believe it or not, I think I do remember something..." Lana sat up a little straighter when she heard this, waiting for Chloe to continue. "He was acting really strange, like he didn't care about anything, like... like..." "Like he had thrown all caution to the wind?" Lana glanced over to see a look of confusion on Chloe's face. "He was acting the exact same way earlier at the Talon," she explained grimly. "Actually, it was kind of my fault..." "Really?" Chloe was becoming extremely interested in these recent events. "How so?" Lana was still having trouble just thinking about the incident at the Talon earlier that day. It scared her that someone could undergo such a quick and complete personality change because of a rock. And for all she knew, he was still out there with the red fragment in his shirt pocket. Shaking the thoughts away, she answered, "I'll... I'll tell you later. Do... do you remember anything else?" "Um... not really. Wait!" Chloe's face was scrunched in thought as she fought to keep a grasp on her fleeting memories. "A... a bat... a wooden bat! Pete hit him with a wooden baseball bat!" she exclaimed suddenly, nearly startling Lana. "It shattered... shattered into a million pieces, and he didn't even flinch... And he... he lit a lantern at the other end of the room just by staring at it..." A slightly embarrassed grin crept onto her face. "Whatever medications they had me on must have really messed up my brain," she said almost sheepishly, shaking her head in wonder at her momentary loss of sanity. "I'm sorry. That was just totally off the chart." Lana actually shook her head. "No, actually, considering what Clark told me last night, it actually makes some sense. Chloe, I think... I think Clark might be one of the meteor freaks..." Well, now she'd have to talk about it. Chloe watched her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, she continued before she lost all her nerve. "He came by to try and apologize for his actions yesterday. When he lied to me instead of explaining, I got mad and started yelling. Finally, he told me the truth. Or at least part of it." When Lana didn't continue, Chloe glanced over to see her staring intently at the road in front of her. Unshed tears and an expression of regret filled her brunette room mate's eyes. Snapped out of her study of Lana by a dark blur, she turned around in her seat to see an intersection quickly receding in the distance. "Uh... Lana, that was our... turn," she pointed out distractedly. Jaw clenched, Lana just shrugged and sighed. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I was just so caught up in my thoughts..." She tried the fake smile again in an attempt to bring a lightness back into the mood. "Well, this gives us an excuse to go to the Kents', doesn't it?" Chloe gave a forced laugh in response. "Yeah, I guess it does." She didn't want to push Lana, but she really wanted to know what Clark had said. "So... what did Clark tell you?" she asked, hoping the question didn't betray her enthusiasm. Unfortunately, Lana caught the tone in the reporter's voice, but, surprisingly, wasn't bothered by it. Instead she was steeling herself for the unpleasant memories. She started out slowly, dragging it out as long as she could. "He... told me that... that the red meteor rocks... had some kind of... effect on him. He said that they bring out a dark side of him." More memories surfaced in Chloe's mind, and she fell silent as she grasped at them, less desperately and frantically this time... "If I fall, will you catch me?" "Go for it." Chloe stood on the loft railing, a little unsteady, but not caring. She glanced over at Clark and smiled. He would catch her. And if he didn't, it was no big deal. At least her last moments wouldn't be dull. She spread her arms out at her sides and leaned back, letting her feet slide off the railing and plunging her body into the air below her. She heard the sound of a rush of air behind her, and, seconds before she hit the hard barn floor, he was there beneath her. He caught her and held her gently in his arms. Head spinning from the adrenaline rush the fall had given her, she gazed into his eyes. "My own personal superhero," she said quietly. "I always knew there was something different about you, Clark Kent..." "Chloe, you all right?" Chloe was jerked out of her memories by the sound of Lana's voice. She quickly nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... had a flashback for a minute there." She was thoughtful for a minute before she spoke again. "Lana, I think Clark's mutated abilities go beyond just breaking bats and lighting lanterns." "What do you mean?" Lana was getting a little worried. What if he really was a mutant? What if he was dangerous? Taking a deep breath, Chloe related her flashback to Lana. "We were in his loft. I stood up on the railing and asked if he'd catch me if I fell. He told me to go for it, so I did. Just before I reached the floor, he ran down the stairs and caught me." The girls fell silent as each contemplated this new piece to the puzzle. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark turned the lead box over and over in his hands. It would be so simple. Just open the lid, and it would all be over. Of course, if his parents found out, they would stop him. They would be so devastated if something were to happen to him. That was the only thing holding him back. But they don't understand, he told himself. I just can't do it. I can't keep hurting her like this. The way she looked at me when she asked if I was a meteor freak... She means the world to me, and I just couldn't stand for her to look at me that way again. He continued turning the box over and over in his hands, as if turning a question in his mind. But his mind was already made up. Now all he needed was the courage to go through with it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another memory tugged at Chloe's mind as they drove along the dirt road. This time, instead of grabbing at it, she let it flow through her on its own... "Wait, what's with the sudden Jekyll and Hyde?" she asked as he pulled on his jacket. One minute they'd been kissing, and the next he'd been pushing her away. "We can't do this, Chloe, not here," he answered, his eyes shifting around like a nervous animal's. "What? Don't tell me you're thinking about Lana!" "This has nothing to do with Lana." His voice sounded irritated, like it should be obvious to her what he was trying to say. She shook her head of black streaked golden hair. "You don't have any real feelings for me, do you Clark?" she asked in an accusatory tone. "Every time we hang out, it's always to get answers. 'Chloe, why don't you research this,' or 'Chloe, why don't you look up that.' I'm nothing more to you than your own personal search engine and I'm sick of it. I want you, Clark." He stared at her intently for several seconds before he spoke again. "Chloe, you have the parasite." "Well, I love the way I feel," she said, smiling and standing up in front of him. "So maybe this is exactly what I need. To spend more time living life and less time reporting it." She leaned up and kissed him, but he pulled away as soon as his brain registered what she was doing. And then there she was, standing in the doorway and staring at the two with an expression of betrayal in her hazel eyes. "L-Lana, this is not what it looks like!" he stuttered, hands almost shaking as he nervously pulled the zipper on his jacket up higher. Lana said nothing as she brushed past them to the counter. Chloe, however, did not. "Yes it is, Lana. It's exactly what it looks like. Oh, and guess what?" she taunted. "Clark told me everything. And I mean everything." The brunette girl turned around, her tear-streaked face piercing right through his heart. He wanted to say something - anything - that would make those tears disappear. "Lana, I can explain," he began. But she didn't listen. Instead she turned her back to him and walked through the door to the back room. Frustrated at himself for letting this happen, and still not sure exactly how it happened, he followed Chloe as she walked confidently out the front door, clearly pleased with herself for the distress she had caused... Chloe shook herself clear of the memory and stared out at the road. How could I have done that to them? She turned to Lana with only one question on her mind. "It was me, wasn't it?" she asked quietly. "I was the girl you caught him making out with. I was the one who ruined your date." "Chloe, you weren't yourself," Lana insisted. This was why she hadn't mentioned it in the first place. After a moment of silence, the blonde girl spoke up again. "Why didn't either of you tell me before?" "I'm not sure of Clark's reasons for not tell you, but I suspect that they could be similar to mine. As for me, I knew that you'd react this way." "What way?" Chloe asked defensively. Lana took a deep breath before continuing. "You're taking the blame for something that wasn't your fault. And now I know it wasn't Clark's fault either. You were both under the influence of something you had no control over. I never blamed you, Chloe, but I knew that you would, and I didn't want you to do that to yourself." With a sigh of resignation, Chloe turned her head to stare out the window at the passing cornfields. No, it hadn't been her fault, but she still felt bad about what she had said. Lana seemed to remember something else just then. "Chloe, you remember I told you I'd tell you later what happened this morning with Clark?" Chloe nodded and waited patiently for her to continue. "I, uh... Well, I wasn't quite sure if what he told me about the red meteor rocks was just another excuse or not, so I... I kind of... got the stone out of my class ring and... put it in his shirt pocket to... test it." Chloe's blonde head whipped around as Lana's words got her full attention. "You WHAT?! What happened? Are you all right?" Lana's cheeks took on a slightly red color as she proffered her bruised wrist. "I got away with only this," she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "He... he didn't do anything to me, really. He just... Well, he kissed me, and he said some things that... I know he would never say. When I tried to get the rock away from him, he grabbed my wrist, and..." She fell silent with a quiet sigh. Chloe shook her head in disbelief. "How did you get away from him with only a bruise on your wrist?" "Angie, the waitress at the Talon, came in right after that, and he left." She pursed her lips in thought. "I wasn't able to get it out of his pocket, so he probably still has it." "Then we're going to have to find him," Chloe said, nodding. "Please be careful, Chloe. He might be dangerous. We don't know what else he's capable of." "I know, don't worry. I'm more concerned about how you're taking all this." Lana hesitated before answering. "Well, I'm taking it. It's a lot to get your head around. But then again, a lot of things make sense now. If he could live all these years like this, with this big secret, then... I think I could too." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark took a deep breath and lifted the lid of the box, revealing the meteor fragment within. The moment it was uncovered, it began to emit a bright green glow. He could feel the radiation from it boring into him, sapping his strength. He dropped to his knees as a wave of dizziness swept over him. With shaking hands, he pulled the rock out of the box and set it on the floor. For a moment he sat there, feeling the pain that seared through every cell of his body, until the vertigo pulled him the rest of the way down. Breathing became difficult. Darkness swam before his eyes. Soon, very soon, it would all be over. Lana... Lana, I'm so sorry...
  14. I know I said one chapter a week, but I decided not to wait. Oh, yeah... That is the problem with writing a story on ff.net, since they are categorized, so most people know the characters and their backgrounds. If it would help, I'll post pictures and a quick rundown... The red rocks are Red Kryptonite (as far as this story goes, they don't call it Kryptonite yet). I believe that, in the comics, Red K had many various effects on Superman. In Smallville, it has a similar effect that the "fake" Kryptonite had on him in Superman III. I'm not really sure how else to explain it, since I can't remember how I explained it to Tiana... Meh... Glad you're enjoying it, anyway. Of course it is, I betaed it. And it is an AU, I believe... It's been a while since I've seen this fic, Forca. XD. Personally I think you use a few too many identity tags, but I know as you go, you improved that immensively. I never read to the end, so obviously I now must demand that you post it all here so I can finish reading it. And it is enjoyable. I now know a bit (lot) more about Superman... watched Superman Returns and have read some comic stuff... (mmmm... Superman and Batman comics <3) The Clark portrayed here feels different, but I'm guessing that's simply the Smallville difference. And, of course, the AU... AUs are always fun. Lol... Yes, 'tis an AU. Probably should have mentioned that... I know I meant to... Yeah, I haven't seen this fic in a while myself. And I agree. Far too many identity tags... *bangs head on keyboard* One of these days, I'll go back and edit the first few chapters so they're up to par. And I know you haven't read it through to the end. I just finished it, like, two days ago! XD Ah, Superman Returns... Excellent movie. You should read the novelization... And Superman/Batman is possibly one of the best series ever. And, so that this is cleared up, Clark in Smallville is very, very different from Clark in Superman. He is far more confident, he can't stand Lois, and he hates his biological father. At the point in the series where this story takes place, he only has the following powers: superspeed, superstrength, invulnerability, heat vision, and x-ray vision. The superhearing didn't develop until season three, and his superbreath just turned up in the current season (six, I think). This story takes place somewhere early in season two. Lana Lang is the girl Clark's been in love with since he was three. Her parents were killed in the meteor shower that brought Clark's spaceship down, and ever since, she has worn a Kryptonite fragment around her neck to remember them (she lost it sometime before this story takes place). For some reason, she has a lot of trouble with boyfriends (they always either die or turn psycho). Chloe Sullivan is one of Clark's best friends. For some time, she's had a crush on Clark, but he'll never love her like he does Lana. She is the editor of the school newspaper, the Smallville Torch, and dreams of someday becoming a star reporter for the Daily Planet in Metropolis. Everytime something strange happens in Smallville (which is often, since the meteor rocks seem to have strange effects on the residents of the area), she usually comes up with some kind of explanation. She keeps a collection of articles and pictures of these strange occurrences on one wall at the Torch office at school, which she calls the Wall of Weird. Lex Luthor has been friends with Clark ever since his car went off a bridge and Clark saved his life. Lex is often at odds with his father, Lionel (whose methods of conducting business are often less than savory) and with Clark's father, Jonathan (who believes that all Luthors are alike). He lives alone in a mansion on the outskirts of town. Ok. Yeah, hope that clears just about everything up... If not, then... Well, I'll try harder next time. Now we can get to the next chapter! Chapter 2: The Experiment Sitting behind the counter at the Talon the next day, Lana fingered the small piece of red rock in her palm. It had been no easy job to acquire it. She had searched her room forever to find her class ring, and then had worked for hours at it, trying to pry the stone out. And finally, here she was, thinking that maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. She glanced up and saw Clark threading his way between tables, chairs, and the few early customers. He gave her a small smile of greeting as he reached the counter, which she returned with a smile of her own. "Hey, Lana," he said. Lana slipped the rock into her pocket and smiled. "Hey, Clark," she said. "Oh, would you hold on a minute?" She turned to a waitress that was filling someone's order. "Hey, Angie, I'll be in the back for a while. Could you cover for me?" Angie nodded and headed off with the customer's order. Clark gave Lana a confused look. Lana just smiled nervously and motioned for him to follow her. Clark had no idea what Lana was up to, but he followed her into the back room anyway. Something about her mysterious air intrigued him, but his mind was screaming for him to be careful. "So, Lana," he said after she closed the door behind them. "What was so urgent that you had to see me right away?" Lana shrugged uncomfortably and slipped her hands into her jean pockets. "I was thinking about what you said yesterday," she began. Clark looked uncomfortable himself. Lana went on before she lost her nerve. "Part of me wanted to believe you, but the rest of me still wasn't so sure. So I was wondering if..." "You want proof, don't you?" he asked warily. He knew all too well where this was going. "Well, I guess you could call it that," she replied, grimacing guiltily. Part of her felt wrong about doing this, not to mention a little scared, especially if he was telling the truth. "It's not that I don't believe you, Clark," she said quickly. "It's just... I guess I'm a little skeptical of the whole idea." Clark sighed and avoided her eyes for a moment. "I'm not so sure what kind of proof I can give you, Lana," he said unconvincingly. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could pretty clearly guess what she was up to, and he didn't like it at all. Lana's eyes dropped to the floor. "Clark, don't be mad," she whispered. "Please, just understand, this is a lot to get my head around. I just need to see it for myself, to see that it's more than just an excuse this time." She slipped a slender hand out of her jean pocket and held the red stone in front of her, bringing her eyes slowly back up to meet his. Clark winced when he saw the all too familiar red rock in Lana's hand. He shook his head and took an involuntary step backwards, the wall at his back looming up behind him. "Lan-Lana, no," he said, stumbling over words in his panic. "Do-don't do this!" Lana took two steps toward him, holding the stone out. "Clark, I have to do this," she said quietly, as much for her own benefit as for his. "I need to know that you're telling the truth this time." Clark glanced almost fearfully at the fragment of meteor again, watching as it began to radiate a faint glow the closer it came to him. Squeezing her eyes shut for a miniscule moment as her steps faltered, Lana continued moving forward until she was standing right in front of him. Clark, who was backed into a corner, suddenly felt claustrophobic for the first time in his life. Between the wall at his back and the incredibly close proximity of the girl closing in, he could hardly breathe. "L-Lana," he gasped out, his breath coming in short ragged bursts. She didn't stop. Even if he could steady his breathing long enough to say something, he got the ominous feeling she couldn't be dissuaded. She stretched her hand toward him, watching him flinch away. But there was nowhere for him to go. She had him backed into a corner. For a slight moment it was amusing, the thought of the seemingly invincible Clark Kent cornered by a girl with a rock. But at the same time she felt bad about doing it. Nevertheless, something inside her burned to know the truth. That burning sensation was what drove her hand forward. She watched him clench his eyes shut as the stone neared him. A tingling feeling began to spread over his entire body, beginning at his chest. He had no idea where she had put the meteor rock, but he knew that he had come in contact with it. He could feel himself drowning in the change that was coming over him. He fought desperately to stop it, but he could already feel his resolve, his morals, his control slipping away at an alarming rate. His eyes snapped open as he struggled to maintain what was left of himself. Lana backed away, startled. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew that the pain and struggle on Clark's face couldn't be a good sign. And then she had another feeling added to her mixed emotions: regret. Ultimately Clark lost the battle. He knew all along he would, but for Lana's sake he had to put up a fight, no matter how pathetic his attempt was. "No," he whispered, his voice strained. "No. Lana..." And then it seemed like he was shoved to the back of his mind, where he could do nothing but watch the horrible things that his alternate personality would do. Lana took a couple more steps back when Clark's eyes flashed an eerie red color. She heard him call her name in a desperate, strangled whisper before his entire expression changed from painful struggle to malicious intent. She jumped slightly when his gaze was abruptly directed toward her with a half-evil gleam in his eyes. "C-Clark?" she stammered. "Clark, what's going on?" A rather unpleasant smile graced Clark's usually kind and gentle face. "What do you mean, Lana?" he rasped, his voice much deeper than she was accustomed to. It almost made her jump again when she heard it. Lana backed up against the opposite wall. "Clark, you're scaring me," she whispered, her breath quickening. What had happened to the mild farmboy that had moments before stood right in front of her, begging her not to go through with her test of his truthfullness? It had taken mere seconds for a complete transformation to take place in a young man she thought she had known. All skepticism was was blown completely away by the sight. "What's to be scared of, Lana?" his deep voice rumbled out again, mocking her. He took a step toward her and she instinctively tried to back up farther, finding that her back was already pressed hard against the wall. She desperately wished she could just slip right through the wall at that moment as the vile grin on his face grew slightly wider and, if possible, more unpleasant at the sight of her panicked state. She could feel her breathing quicken as he continued his advance. A scream rose up in her throat and threatened to let itself out, but she kept her mouth shut. If she screamed now, someone would hear and come running. Clark would get in trouble for something that was not his fault. And nobody but her knew that he was being affected by a red meteor rock. No, she had to keep him here, where she at least had a chance of getting that red meteor away from him. And so she closed her eyes, kept quiet, and let him get close to her, however uncomfortable it made her, however much it made her tremble with fear. A quick shiver went up her spine when she felt his hand come in contact with her arm. She flinched slightly without quite knowing why, opening her eyes to see his face right next to hers. She jumped a little bit and inhaled sharply. "You don't need to be afraid," he purred in her ear, his breath sending tingles down the back of her neck. "It's just me, Clark Kent, remember?" Without warning, his lips pressed to hers in an aggressive kiss. Only fear of what he might do kept her from slapping him in the face right then and there. She was scared, and he knew it, but if this was an attempt at reassuring her, it wasn't working very well. Her mind worked frantically, trying to come up with a way to get her out of the mess she had created for herself. Her mind just barely registered the fact that this kiss was not like any other kiss he had given her. It was... different, somehow, more aggressive, more claiming, more... More passionate. She caught herself melting into it, deepening it, encouraging him to keep kissing her. Stop it! her mind seemed to scream. You're not helping! This isn't him! Get that rock away from him! She broke away suddenly, gasping for breath. Clark grinned down at her and pulled her closer. "You're trembling," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Don't tell me you're still scared." An idea suddenly struck her and she gazed up into the deep green mirrors that were his eyes, shaking her head and willing the tremors of fear to stop. Tentatively, she pulled his head down to hers for another kiss. He gladly obliged, claiming her mouth once more and pressing her back against the wall. She unconsciously grabbed at his arms as she felt his hands slip behind her and make their way up to her shoulder blades. When she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hands away, moving them to his chest after a moment's hesitation. "Oh, now that's better." His voice was low and raspy, and filled with a sick pleasure that made her skin crawl. She tried to ignore it as she slowly moved her hand toward his shirt pocket, where she had slipped the red meteor fragment. He must have guessed by then where she had put the rock, and that she was trying to get it away from him, because before she knew it, he had siezed her wrist in one of his hands and was staring down at her disapprovingly. "Let go of me! What are you doing?" She tried to yank her hand away, but his firm grasp only tightened around her arm. "Wouldn't want you spoiling the fun, now would we?" he hissed. At that moment, much to Lana's relief, the door swung open and Angie appeared looking slightly flustered. "Lana, we ran out of mugs up at the counter. Do you know if we..." She stopped short when she saw the scene in front of her. Clark had Lana pushed up against the wall, her wrist in one hand, his other hand behind her back. She stood gaping at the two, morning coffee rush forgotten for the moment. "It-it's all right, Angie," Lana stuttered, not sure exactly why she was still defending him. "Clark was... just leaving. Weren't you?" He gave her a chilling smile in response as he released his grip on her arm and took a few steps back. With one last glance and a shrug, he turned and left. Lana let out her breath in a relieved moan and slipped to a sitting position on the floor, closing her eyes and laying her head back against the wall. Angie knelt down next to her, face etched with concern. "Lana, are you okay?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" The young manager shook her head and blinked her eyes open, trying to calm her breath. "No... no, I'm just... just a little shaken up, that's all." Angie nodded uncertainly and rose to her feet with the intention of tracking down the extra mugs. Lana stayed on the floor for a moment longer, thinking. Well, Clark had told the truth this time, she knew that now. He was somone completely different around those meteor rocks. She gazed at her wrist, which was now showing a deep purple bruise on it, and wondered whether the green rocks affected him. Only one safe way to find out, she thought. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clark stepped out of the Talon and onto the sidewalk on Main Street. "She wasn't any fun anyway," he said to no one in particular, shrugging as he made his way down the street. Suddenly, his foot caught on the curb, and, next thing he knew, he was flat on his face in the gutter. The fragment of red meteor fell from his shirt pocket and bounced along the ground, slipping between the bars of a metal sewer grate. As he picked himself up off the ground, an expression of horror and disgust flashed across his face. "What the... What have I done?" he whispered. "What have I... Lana. Lana, oh my... What have I done?" In a moment of pure panic, he bolted, running as fast as his superspeed would carry him. He didn't care where he ended up, he just had to get away from town. Away from her.
  15. Title: Despair's Edge Author: RedKaddict (forca) Category: Smallville Genre: Angst, Drama Rating: PG-13 for disturbing images Summary: At the end of the episode "Rush", Clark decides to tell Lana the truth about what went on between him and Chloe. Her reaction drives him to a place beyond where he wants to go... A place from which no one can save him. Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. Smallville belongs to WB and Superman belongs to DC Comics. All I have is the idea, and I'm very proud of it. I would appreciate if nobody stole it from me. Notes: My thanks go to Tiana for being my beta for the first few chapters, and for proving that this story is at least slightly enjoyable, even if you don't watch Smallville. I have finished this story, and will be posting a chapter every week. Hope you enjoy it! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1: The Truth The Talon, a run-down old theatre converted into a coffee shop, was now the favorite gathering place of Smallville's townspeople. The exterior still maintained its age-old decor, complete with regularly updated marquee, but the interior was completely new. Neon lights and Ancient Egypt motifs collided in a perky, invigorating contrast of new and old. But what was usually a bustling yet peaceful hang-out was currently the site of a heated and rather one-sided argument between two teenagers. The first, a petite brunette by the name of Lana Lang, was busying herself with clearing tables and putting up chairs while she vehemently scolded the hapless recipient of her disappointed rage. Her hazel eyes burned with an angry fire as she went from table to counter and back with trays and mugs, ignoring the hurt puppy dog look that the tall, hansome young man had in his deep jade eyes. Clark Kent, man of excuses, she thought wryly. So far that was all she had heard from him since this conversation had started. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she spun around on her heel at the counter and held up a hand to silence him. "Clark, you can't lie to me about something I saw with my own eyes!" Lana practically shouted. She couldn't believe that he would try to deny kissing Chloe when she had clearly caught them in the act. He looked hurt. "For once just be honest with yourself," she went on before he could say anything, lowering her voice slightly. "I know why Chloe was kissing you. But why were you kissing her back?" Clark hesitated, trying to find something to say. An awkward silence was sure to have followed had Lana not sighed. "I have to lock up," she said as she turned away again. I knew it, she said to herself. The same explanation every time: that pathetic look. Well, I'm not standing for it any longer. "I wasn't kissing her back, Lana." She stopped and turned around slowly as he continued. "I don't know where you heard that, or what you saw, but you have to believe me." "Oh, so you just expect me to believe you, just like that?" she asked, incredulous that he was still denying the truth. This is ridiculous! What has gotten into him? He sighed. His already pathetic story was losing credibility every time he opened his mouth. "She came onto me, okay?" he offered rather lamely. "Look, I wish I could've stopped her, and I wish you didn't have to see that." His voice was practically dripping with sincerity, but it didn't seem to move her in any way. She walked briskly behind the counter and began arranging dishes on their shelves. "It's too late for that, Clark," she said without turning around. This was getting to be too much for him. Why can't she just believe me? "All right, you want the truth then?" The question was out of his mouth almost before he thought about it. She spun on her heel to face him, her face tear-streaked. "Yes, I would," she grated out. "And how about we start with this: Can you honestly tell me that you did not kiss Chloe?" Clark hung his head. "No, Lana, I cannot," he said softly. "I will admit that I did kiss her before you got there. But”¦ but Lana, you have to understand, that wasn't me." Shaking her head, Lana gave him a mock smile. "This again? Clark, I'm not going to accept that excuse anymore! If you're not going to tell me the straight truth, then just go. I have work to do." She started turning away, but not before he started speaking again. "All right, Lana," he said. "Here it is." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Do you remember those red meteor rocks they put in our class rings?" Lana looked confused. "I don't know what that has to do with any of this, but, yeah, I do," she answered skeptically. "Well," he went on hesitantly. "Those red meteor rocks have some kind of strange effect on me." There, it's out. Before long I'll have to tell her the rest. And who knows what will happen then? Still confused, she wasn't satisfied with his answer. "Like, what kind of strange effect?" There was no way for him to know how much he could tell her without her freaking out. If he told her everything, would she ever see him the same way? What would become of their friendship? But there was no way around it now. He had gotten himself in too deep to back out now. Besides, he told himself, our friendship is in a lot more trouble if I don't tell her anything at all. "Like, my emotions, for one," he said slowly after another moment's hesitation. "They”¦ they make me do and”¦ and say things that I would normally never do, and”¦ They bring out a darker side of me that I didn't even know I had." A darker side that gave him shudders just to think about, and that he remembered all too well... Where the heck had this rebellious attitude come from? He had never spoken to his father like that before. Ever. He had heard the anger in Jonathan's voice, but when he opened his mouth to apologize, what had come out? "You can talk all you want. I'm outta here!" I'm outta here? he thought. Since when do I talk like that? Lana's voice pulled him out of his memories. "What does this have to do with you kissing Chloe, Clark?" she asked, cutting him off before he could say anything more, though his voice had been already cut off into the faintest squeak of an attempt. Clark took another deep breath. "Well, Pete knew that the meteor rocks had that effect on me. So, after he and Chloe got infected with that parasite, they tried to get me to join them in their daredevil rampage by slipping one in my shirt pocket." I can't believe I'm telling her all this! She seemed slightly taken aback. She didn't appear to be too freaked out thus far, just rather indifferent. But that could all change in a mere moment. "You said tried," she said finally. "Does that mean it didn't work?" Now thoroughly flustered, he let out a quick breath. "I wouldn't be using it as an explanation as to how I ended up kissing Chloe if it didn't, would I?" he burst out, a good deal more harshly than he intended. Lana's hard gaze never faltered. She just stared at him, as if trying to tell him that his explanation was absolutely absurd. "There's more for me to say," he went on, softening his voice. "This also explains my strange behavior this past spring, when Jesse arrived..." Lana held up a hand to stop him. "Wait a minute. You mean the bike, the bar, going out with Jesse, that was all because of these meteor rocks?" He nodded. Well, that explains a lot, she thought. Then something else occurred to her. Slowly, she asked, "Does this mean that you're one of those meteor freaks, then?" Clark sighed and set the rose gently on the black marble counter before turning to leave. "I've told you everything I can. I don't want to hurt our friendship any more than I already have." He walked toward the door and Lana picked up the rose from the counter, holding it up in front of her and absently twirling it between her fingers. She wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, but even if he wasn't, this excuse was different from his usual lame explanations. Maybe, just maybe”¦
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