"Responsible"

Author: Mari2Anne

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine; I do not own them or Smallville.

Pairing: This definitely belongs in the Chloe/Clark threads

Spoilers: None, really. Memories from the beginning through Season 8 and beyond; based on one of my ideas about what happens after Clark declares himself 'dead' and 'MY' version &/or interpretation of the things that led up to that. Also, I do not write battle scenes well so I cannot promise any…

Status: The story is finished, just doing some last minute polishing up of each chapter before posting.

Rating: PG-13. Angsty at first. But if you've read any of my other stories you know there'll be 'mush' and some 'fluff' …eventually.

Warnings: Only character deaths that happened in Season 8

Hope you enjoy; please forgive any grammatical errors.

Feedback is wonderful. But mostly, thank you, thank you so much for reading.

Chapter One

He didn't know why he sought her soon after he'd returned. He told himself he'd done it merely to let her know he was back and just to make sure she was okay. Martha Kent's letter had not been convincing enough. He needed to see for himself that she was well.

He'd used his x-ray vision to search the apartment building she lived in even as he was still hundreds of feet in the sky above Metropolis.

*****

A month ago he would not have dreamed he could just float in the air; it had caught him quite by surprise as many of his powers had when he'd first developed them. Flight had come surprisingly easily to him; he hadn't planned it. He'd run away so fast that day leaving her alone in the midst of that horrible reminder of death he'd told her to abandon.

A wedding present from Jimmy that Clark had told him to keep her and Davis safe in. But there had been no safety within those walls: only anger, jealousy and death.

After the funeral she had tried to convince him she could go on in that morbid place; that she felt Jimmy looking after her. He only saw the blood that still stained the floors and the tears in her eyes. It was more than he could stand. He'd left her. He'd wanted away from her pain; a pain that he could not erase.

A pain he was responsible for.

He'd made it downstairs somehow and ended up in an alley close to the Watchtower building. Her sad tear-filled pleading voice had followed him and by the time he'd found himself in the alley, rage had filled him. It was a more powerful feeling than any anger he'd ever known in his life and it felt so much better than the helplessness that had consumed him in the last few days. Rage that he couldn't show to her; rage that felt so all-consuming in its power he could think of nothing but to run from it before he lost control and became a danger to anyone or anything in his path.

And run he did.

Faster…faster than he'd ever run before with a blindness that he refused to acknowledge as tears…but nevertheless had stopped him from focusing; and, in a sudden last second attempt to avoid crashing into a truck that had suddenly turned into the alley way he was speeding through at the edge of Metropolis, he had leapt into the air.

He was at least ten thousand feet in the air before the roar of an airplane's engines descending towards the Metropolis airport forced him to a sudden stop to avoid a collision. His rage momentarily forgotten, he'd tried to understand what was happening to him when he started to fall, head first towards terra firma. It took him several seconds before he realized he could stop himself from tumbling further. He had done it before as Kal-El many years ago; the knowledge to control flying was second nature…only Clark's fear all these years had stopped him.

That thought brought back the rage and also, though he'd tried to drown it out, a conversation he'd had with Oliver in a bar not too long ago, after Clark had saved both him and Tess. Tess had shown Oliver proof that Lionel had killed his parents.

"So I hear I'm not the only one in town who owes you a drink," Oliver had started the conversation as he'd passed a report to him. "Lionel Luthor killed my parents…"

As he hadn't responded, Oliver voiced his suspicion, "Did you know about this? You were the son Lionel never had; the guy knew everything about you, right? So don't stand there and tell me that you didn't know a couple of his dirty little secrets."

"Look, Oliver, I was afraid that you'd do something you'd regret," he'd tried to explain but Oliver was not in an understanding mood.

"Something I regret? Like what, Clark? You thought I was gonna kill him? Is that it? I wouldn't have killed him. I survived for two years on an island by myself. Clark, when it wasn't pouring rain it was blistering sun. There were mosquitoes that ate me alive. It's okay, because you know what; it made me strong. You may be invincible but you are not fearless, are you? You're afraid to trust your friends. You're afraid to face who you were really meant to be. You're afraid of everything. Maybe you haven't been put to the test yet. Maybe your island's still out there?"

Oliver had been right, no matter how hard he had tried to deny it; Clark had been afraid of everything. Flying was just the biggest example; more than once he had been reminded that it was something he should be capable of. The young Legionnaire from the future, Garth, hadn't understood why he wasn't flying. Kara had tried to teach him so they would have a chance of leveling the playing field in their battle against Bizarro.

Chloe had even once told him he'd better get on that.

Clark's fear had grounded him.

But no more!

With a determination spurred on by the intense rage, he had known what he'd had to do. He'd righted himself from his unceremonious descent, changed direction toward the north and with a speed that brought a sonic boom in its wake, had headed towards the Fortress. He'd worked to restore what had been damaged during his fight with Davis and to keep it more secure from any future would-be intruders. And then he'd settled into working with Jor-El to learn what else Clark's fear had stopped him from accomplishing.

*****

But his training had stopped suddenly when Jor-El had issued an unexpected warning less than a day ago, "Kal-El, my son, you must go. Zod is building an army."

Kal-El felt momentarily disoriented to be dropped so unexpectedly onto the Fortress floor. As he stood up he voiced his doubt, "Zod is imprisoned in the Phantom Zone, Father."

"He has been released by the one who destroyed the crystal. You must stop him, my son, before his army is complete and he starts on his path of destruction. He has learned much since your last battle. He will be more dangerous."

Kal-El spoke with a new confidence fueled by his new knowledge and to some extent by the rage that still had not completely left him, "I have learned much also. I will not fail you, Father. I will be smarter this time. I won't hesitate to do what is necessary. He will not get the chance to destroy the planet you have taught me to protect." And with that promise he had turned and flown out of the Fortress.

He had stopped at the Kent farm first to gather all the remnants of his Kryptonian heritage that remained buried deep underground in a hidden corner of the fields surrounded by dense brush. He had buried everything there soon after Tess had cornered him in his barn, having gained knowledge about where he kept things hidden through one of her meteor-infected minions disguised as Chloe. He saw a strange vehicle parked next to his truck near the house after he noticed how well cared for the farm looked. He knocked on the door and tried to smile politely as a tall blonde-haired stranger, whom Kal-El guessed couldn't be much older than about thirty-five, opened the door and warmly greeted him.

"Mr. Kent! How good to see you. Your mother said you might stop by some day when you'd done traveling to pick up your things. She had everything packed up nicely… well… some of the furniture is in storage; I believe she said in Metropolis somewhere. Oh, come in please, excuse my bad manners…I'm Jake; we bought the farm from your mother…well, the paperwork's not filed yet…the banks are horribly slow these days, you know; but she wanted us to move in right away so the place could be kept up. We're still unpacking as you can see by all the boxes in the living room. Sorry, I'm rambling. Would you like a drink? Coffee? A soda? Something alcoholic?"

"A glass of water would be welcome," he replied slowly as he tried to absorb what was happening.

"Coming up, right away. Have a seat, Mr. Kent."

Kal-El sat down at the kitchen counter as Jake opened the fridge and retrieved a jug of cold water and two glasses from a drying rack next to the sink. "Think I need a cool drink myself. Unpacking in this heat works up a sweat. The wife's in town picking up some things to make for dinner; you're welcome to join us."

"Thank you for the invitation. But I still have to get to Metropolis before the banks close this afternoon," he declined politely.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Here, your mother left this large envelope for you. I believe a set of your truck keys are in it. The other set I have right here in my pocket; let me get them off my key ring. There. She said she'd also enclose some papers you need to sign and drop off at the bank. Something about you having to authorize that it was okay for her to sell the farm since it's half yours. If you don't have time I can drop it off at the bank for you tomorrow; I have to go there anyway. I don't think your signature needs to be notarized; she said the banker knows your signature quite well."

Kal-El lifted the glass to his lips and downed it completely before telling Jake, "Thank you." Nothing in his motions or in his voice gave Jake any clue that he had not known about his percentage of ownership in the farm. The months after Jonathan's death were not easy memories; he tried to bury them but in reality he never forgot anything. So even though he could recall Martha telling him during those troubling times that the banker had found a life insurance policy that paid off the mortgages on the farm, she definitely had never told him she had changed the title on the farm to include him as half-owner.

He tore open the envelope which had 'Clark Kent' written on the front in Martha's very legible handwriting, took out and pocketed his truck keys before pulling out another smaller envelope with the bank's name and logo in the upper left corner containing the papers from the bank. He read them quickly but carefully and signed in the three places indicated by red check marks and yellow 'sign here' tabs. He folded them back into the envelope, sealed it and handed it to Jake.

"I hope my delayed return isn't the reason for the hold-up on getting the deed filed," he said in way of an apology.

"Oh, no, Mr. Kent. The banker said this is just a formality. The bank is just rather busy with foreclosures at a record high and the little lady at the loan desk said they're short-handed because several people got laid off. It'll all get done, just at a slower pace."

Kal-El stood up, thanked Jake and wished him luck with the farm as he shook his hand before leaving. Jake helped him take out his suitcases and boxes Martha had stored under the staircase closet and load them into the back of the pick-up. To his surprise, the truck started up on the first turn of the key. Maybe Martha had asked Jake to keep it in running condition; it also looked newly washed and waxed.

He drove slowly to the Kawachi caves and with very little effort had caused a small avalanche to close up the entrance so only he could find the way in. He knew the Fortress would have to become a safe haven for him in case he suffered any unexpected setbacks in his mission to stop Zod; and he had to insure Zod would never be able to find him there. Until he learned who Zod's current vessel was he could take no chances. He hoped that Tess didn't know that the Fortress had been rebuilt. He wasn't sure if she even knew about the Fortress. As far as he could calculate she would have had no idea what Lex had found in that ice-covered country because it had been completely destroyed with him and Lex trapped inside; there had been no trace of the structure left by the time Tess and her people arrived to search for Lex.

He doubted Davis could have shared any knowledge about the Fortress with her. He had never come there on his own and had no contact with Tess after his final departure from the Fortress with Chloe.

For a moment Kal wondered if Tess was even still alive and working with Zod or being used by him to bring forth the destruction of humanity. He quickly dismissed the thought; he would find out soon enough. He still had much left to do.

The next step would be to try and get a loan from his banker in Metropolis for a down-payment on a warehouse. He needed a place to make his battle plans.

After leaving the caves, he drove half way to Metropolis before pulling over and parking on the side of the road. He slowly picked up the large envelope from where he'd tossed it onto the passenger seat and took out the other small envelope he'd almost forgotten Martha had left for him. He smiled for the first time in a month when he recognized the pink stationery with her embossed MK in the corners and 'Clark Kent' printed neatly on the envelope.

It was a short letter.

"My dearest Clark. I don't know how long it will be before you read this; but if you are I know you've found out about the farm. The young couple buying it put down a fifty thousand dollar deposit. Without the farm bills I have no need for the extra money right now so I deposited all of that into your account at the Metropolis Savings. I'm also enclosing a receipt for the storage unit in Metropolis if you need any of the furniture. If you don't want to come live in Washington with me when you get back, use the money to buy or lease yourself a place wherever you decide to settle. Just know, my son, you will always have a home with me and Shelby!

I spoke to Chloe a few days after Jimmy's funeral and she explained everything, even your last conversation with her. Even though Lois is still missing, I know Chloe will soon be better; she is the strongest friend you have and she was very worried about you. Since there has been no word from you and no sign of you in Metropolis I can only hope you have traveled north to finish your journey. I miss you every day, my son, and pray that you are well. Come home when you can. Love, Mom."

He was pleased she had taken Shelby with her to Washington. He smiled for another moment as he slowly folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. Martha had been so careful in her words in case someone else read the letter.

He had no trouble at the bank. Even though he was currently without employment, he'd had substantial funds in his account even before the deposit from the farm sale and being the Senator's son hadn't hurt him either. The loan officer had told him there was a letter in his file that the Senator would co-sign any line of credit should he need it. He signed and initialed an endless ream of papers and soon had a line of credit account opened for the maximum amount they could lend him. With enough cash in his pocket to take care of the next step in his plan, he was done in less than two hours.

It left him enough daylight to start searching for a suitable warehouse to lease. During his 'Red-K' summer in Metropolis as well as his time at the Daily Planet he'd learned of enough people who made all deals in cash; and if names were necessary they were usually aliases. He wanted to be as untraceable as possible. The search did not take him long. He had very few requirements: it had to be outside of the city; it had to have some kind of office with facilities that could pass for minimum temporary living quarters; and if it didn't have a basement of sorts, it had to at least be on ground that he could dig a tunnel through to get in and out unseen.

Tough economic times seemed to have filtered all the way down to the 'cash-only' transactions on the streets; the 'business' man he ended up dealing with had six empty warehouses for him to choose from, three of which were perfect for his needs; his final decision based on the heavy-duty lead-lined doors and walls of the last place he looked at. After he'd made the deal he still had more than half the cash left in his pocket even though he had paid enough so the landlord wouldn't have to bother him for at least six months. He hoped his battle with Zod would not last that long but Jor-El had warned him to be patient and prepared.

Next, he sold his truck to a used car dealership. Afterwards he went on a quick clothes-shopping spree. In an alley behind one of the stores he'd super-sped into some of his new clothes and using his heat vision had burned the last of the Clark Kent clothes in an old metal trash can. His last stop was a quick round-trip north. By eight o'clock that night everything that connected him to Clark Kent, including his wallet, was hidden at the Fortress. The only thing left in the city with Clark Kent's name on it were the accounts at the Metropolis Savings Bank; but with the cash he had left it would be quite a while before he'd have the need to do more banking transactions.

He had done enough for the first day. He had decided to get to the warehouse and catch up on some of the sleep he'd missed in the last month. The sudden noise of a robbery in progress in a nearby street caught his super-hearing and he instinctively sped there to stop it. At the last second he stopped himself from getting closer and used only his super breath to blow the gun out of the thief's hand and to knock him onto the ground hard enough so the victim could escape with his life.

After the victim had fled he approached the guy still spread out on the ground and knocked him on the back of the head just hard enough to keep him unconscious until the police arrived. He scanned the area for a public telephone, but not finding one; he borrowed the crook's cell phone careful to not leave any prints and made an anonymous 911 call himself. The victim's wallet in the thief's pocket would probably be enough to earn him a night in jail.

Kal-El walked away quickly, deciding that in the next few weeks he'd have to be careful with any rescues he couldn't leave to the police. The Red Blue Blur had not been spotted or heard from since the disappearance of the creature that had caused so much death and destruction. He didn't want Zod to get too much advance notice that he was back in the city

As he walked aimlessly he suddenly recognized the building he was passing in front of and before he could think about it he was scanning the top floor looking for her. A strange disappointment filled him when he saw the place had been completely deserted. He walked as fast as he could towards the downtown library grateful it was still open and found a computer that wasn't being used by anyone at the moment. He quickly gained access to county records and with some hacking skills he'd picked up from watching Chloe through the years, he was able to find the date she had sold her share in the Watchtower and a listing of the address to which the final sale papers had been mailed to her. He erased the history of the sites he'd scanned and logged out quickly.

He was in the air and floating near the rooftop of the building across the street from her apartment before he'd even consciously thought about looking for her. His x-ray vision found her sitting on a couch with both arms clutching a picture to her chest and her body shaking with gut-wrenching sobs, her eyes swimming with tears.

A month of burying every emotion, of ignoring the pain those tears had caused, of finally thinking he could handle being out amongst people again, was instantly wiped from his mind. He was lucid enough for a moment to realize he hadn't left the Fortress because he was ready to face the world; he'd left because Jor-El had asked him to. He hadn't planned on finding Chloe; he hadn't planned on letting Clark Kent control him again.

Chloe's tears were Clark Kent's biggest weakness, one look from her unhappy eyes had always had the power to burn him to his soul. Why had he buried that? He could have used the warning to stay away.

But it was too late.

He'd gotten too close to the flame, even from outside her apartment window. He hadn't known he'd missed her until he saw her.

He had told her the truth that horrible day: Clark Kent is dead. He had been dead…because he hadn't seen beyond the sorrow in her eyes at the funeral for Jimmy. The price paid for the choices he'd made: Jimmy, a good man whose life was cruelly ended because Clark had been unwilling to cross a line. And destroy an evil merely because he'd been fooled by the disguise of heroic life-saving paramedic. Even though he'd known the truth; Tess had explained it to him. Plus he would never be able to erase the memory of all the remains buried in the field that he had seen with his own x-ray vision. He'd still thought there was someone worth saving; and in his arrogance had succeeded in saving no-one.

Clark Kent had to die, or he could not have continued living; the guilt was unlike anything he'd ever known. It surpassed the death of his father, because in a dream he came to realize his father had not blamed him for that choice.

It surpassed asking Jor-El to wipe Chloe's memories because when the Legion had helped him save her from Brainiac's mind control, her memories were restored. Someday, he would beg her forgiveness for that choice; even though he had suffered the most when she didn't remember him, it still had been a wrong choice no matter how good his intentions had been.

An ache worse than when his mother had lost the baby because of his irrational disobedience of Jor-El.

It surpassed the guilt of not believing Alicia. Another death to tarnish his soul at an age when he'd had no confidence, and parents that couldn't see beyond their fear for him…they had been so disappointed in him for running away with her. And yet she had filled an ache that had tortured him so much. Someone he could be himself with. And yet he'd not had the courage to tell her he wasn't a meteor freak, but worse, an alien; an alien responsible for so much devastation.

It surpassed the pain of not killing Lex to prevent Zod's takeover; so many people died or were hurt during Dark Thursday; and Lex had lived to murder Lionel.

He remembered the lesson from Jor-El about what would have happened if he'd not arrived on Earth. Sometimes he got too far away from this memory and the guilt overwhelmed him; the fear of disappointing those who depended on him grew heavily on his soul every day. 'You can't save them all, Clark.' How many times had he heard it? Maybe not saving everyone would be easier to live with if he'd not caused so many to not be saved.

The memories crashed around him and through him. He lost control of his senses for a moment, his equilibrium failed him and he started to fall. He was almost on the ground in the middle of the street before his instincts took over and he flew speedily away before anyone could catch a glimpse of the fallen hero.

He woke up at first light the next morning on a grass field wet with the dew from an overnight fog. Disoriented he slowly sat up and looked around.

Gravestones.

He was in a cemetery. His eyes focused on the name on the headstone in front of him.

Henry James Olsen.

Jimmy.

---To be continued---