Pink

Chloe hated the color pink. She swore it was part of the cosmic plan to ruin her life.  Pink was the color of Lana's sweaters, the color of her spring formal dress.  Pink was the color of the drink she'd had in Metropolis when she'd found him.  Her underwear had been pink too.  That surprised him.  Pink was the color of ruined hopes and dreams for Chloe.

The damn stick was pink. Chloe stared at it in shock. Of course.  IT figured.  It would be pink. She snorted.  Pink.  Her mind began to tumble.  If she designed it, it would turn black.  Pregnancy tests for teens.  Green pass go.  Black your life is over.   She was dead meat.

How was she going to tell her father?  How was she going to hide this from Lionel Luther?  Clark and Lana.

Chloe put on her resolve face.  She'd run away. Change her name.  Fake her death.That one would work.  She couldn't really die.  She was going to selfishly keep this part of Clark to herself.  

She was in the Torch's office, working on what would be her last edition.  Tonight she would run.  She stood up to walk to the file cabinet when Pete's exclamation caught her and Lana's attention.

"Chloe!  You're bleeding!"

Chloe looked down.  Before she panicked, she wondered why it wasn't pink.  Everything else had been.

She lay in her hospital bed, overnight for observation, staring menacingly at the flowers Lana had brought as a peace offering.  Out of guilt. 

Pete had brought sunflowers.  Martha Kent had brought red tulips and held her as they both cried.  Clark had stayed in the hall, too chicken to come in.  It was better that way.  Even Lex had sent something.  Roses.  White Roses. 

But Lana.  Lana's flowers were pink.

She hit the call button.  She heard her nurse behind her.  "Yes?"

"Could you get rid of these?"

"All of them or just the pink ones?"

"Pink ones."

Chloe Sullivan hated pink.

RED

Red was not a good color for Clark.  He had done some monumentally stupid things while wearing red.  Especially red jewelry.

Red was the color of rage and hurt and illegal activity.  Red was also the color of blood. 

Red seemed to be the color of his relationship with Chloe too.  Hadn't she been wearing red when she wanted to be just friends?  He'd been wearing red when they'd been more than friends too.

He remembered that night in Metropolis. Chloe had been wearing pink underwear.  He remembered he'd laughed at that, taunting her about the color.  He'd been wearing red.  Her eyes were red when he'd thrown her recent virginity in her face, mocking her love for him.  The love she still had despite everything he'd done and said.

Her cheeks had been red when he threw her out of his apartment.

Her blood had been red in the Torch's office, spreading from her body like a poison cloud.

Red was the color of the tulips his mother brought her in the hospital.  He hadn't gone it.  He didn't know what to say.  No one knew but the two of them that he was responsible for this too.

Red was not a good color for Clark.

Red was his burden.