Red Kryptonite isn't the prettiest thing.

It doesn't have the prettiest effects.

And it certainly doesn't have the prettiest consequences.

"Remember that time Sophomore year when I wore all black and rode a motorcycle to school and…?"

"Liplocked with another dame on your dream date with Lana?"

He winced. "That's not exactly what happened, but yeah. That was red Kryptonite."

Actual drugs don't affect him-he thinks, anyways, if his non-reactions to alcohol or anything else are any indication. Red K is the closest he'll ever get.

"So it's a drug."

"No! Kind of? I don't know. Mom says it removes my inhibitions, which I guess is as good an explanation as any-but anyways, I'm...not myself when even a bit is near me."

Looking back, he's still not sure if that's the best way to describe it.

Yes, he loses his inhibitions-but it's more than that. Everything he feels is amplified. The emotions don't come from nowhere, but they are accelerated, blown way out of proportion.

He refuses to believe that he's his "truest self" while on the stupid rock. Aren't your inhibitions, your morals, part of who you are?

"So, Sophomore year. That explains some things. Hey-were you on the stuff when you pulled a Mickey Rooney and pseudo-married a certain blonde teleporter?"

"I-yes."

"And when I told you you needed psychiatric help?"

"I-actually, no. That was Lionel Luthor in my body-"

"Wait-what? You gotta tell me about that one."

One thing that annoyed him for the longest time was the fact that everyone else always got a get-out-of-jail free card: "Oh, I had a parasite," or "Oh, I was possessed!"

But him? He had to let his closest friends think he was a supreme tool.

It majorly sucked, and there was nothing he could do about it. (Except tell them his secret, which was squarely in the not happening realm.)

"Chloe, I don't think you understand how serious it is-"

"Clark, if 'drastic changes' in your personality mean you go all Johnny Ramone on us, I don't really see what the big deal is."

"It's not just that. I...well, I've done some truly horrible things. Remember the summer before Junior year?"

"When you went schizo and ran away to Metropolis? Ugh. Though I suppose I can't hold it against you now?"

"The way I treated you? That was just the beginning. Someone with my powers and no morals-it got ugly. I've almost killed people, Chloe."

Clark may even hate them more than the green ones. At least then only he gets hurt.

"Note to self: keep the red meteor rocks away from our resident boy scout."

"Well, yeah. And the black ones are weird too."

"Say what now?"

To say he hasn't been tempted once or twice would be a lie, but he's also not an idiot (though others would beg to differ.) He remembers Jessie Brooks; he remembers Metropolis. He'd never willingly do that to himself again.

"So, to recap: green K cripples you, black K splits you in two, and red K makes you the bad boy all girls dream about in their nightmares."

"I guess?"

"C'mon, that was a great line! Clark, sometimes you're more work than that perpetually broken tractor in your barn."

"But you're okay with all this?"

"'Course I am! I have a best friend who will buy me coffee from my favorite place in Edge City whenever I want-how cool is that?"

Freaking Kryptonite. If he never touched any of it again, it'd be too soon.

Explaining it all, though?

That part was okay.