Title: The Crystal Complications – Forging Fate
Rating: T (A higher rated version of this is located on my LJ fic archive – the link is on my profile page. But I'm not sure that there will be that much of a difference, and certainly not this early on.)
Category: Angst, romance, angst
Summary: Torn from the past, Clark struggles to find a way to change a future gone wrong. Uncertain of success, the one thing he knows is that he can't face a world where Chloe Sullivan looks at him like that.
Spoilers: Takes place in Season 9 between Absolute Justice and Warrior, so it's canon up until there. It also focuses heavily on Season 6 between Combat and Progeny.
Disclaimer: Smallville and all its characters are owned by people who are not me. No profit is made and no infringement is intended.
A/N: First of all, this is a Chlark story. I know I don't usually write them, but please don't start this expecting me to end up going with Chlex or Chlollie. It's Chlark endgame.
Second, this is basically a catharsis piece for me concerning the huge disappointment that I've had with the development of Clark. Although I'm putting it here for those who might enjoy it, it's one of the few things I've written that's for me, as opposed to whoever might be reading it. I generally try to be welcoming of all comments, and this story is no different. If you want to say that my take on the seasons or characters is all wrong and should be done differently, I certainly don't want to discourage you from doing so. However, please understand that, unlike my other stories where I try to take those things into consideration, it won't change the way that I intend to write this story. Complaints are fine, but expectations will only lead to a sense of disappointment for you. - Behold my pessimism. :D
Also, hope the editing isn't too rough. I plan to go over it more at a later date, but for now I'm leaving it as is and moving to other things I need to work on.
Chapter One
Clark closed his eyes against the bright light that filled the small loft space. As it faded, he looked down to his hand, brows furrowing as he saw that it was empty. A quick glance around the area in which he was standing was enough to let him know that the crystal he'd been holding was gone.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he realized that something had clearly happened and that he not only had no idea what, he didn't even know who was responsible.
Earlier that day, Lionel had called saying that he'd come into possession of something of his and would like to come by the farm to give it to him. Clark had understood that when Lionel had said "something of his" he mean something Kryptonian. And while he still had a lot of reservations about accepting any kind of help from the older man, he felt far more uncomfortable leaving anything of that nature in his hands.
When Lionel arrived, he'd handed him a small metal box and Clark had taken it, despite the sense of impending doom he'd felt churning inside of him. Opening it with care, he been confronted with a small, golden crystal. Although beautiful, the sight did nothing to calm his nerves. After all, the remnants of his birth planet's civilization generally did more harm than good in his experience, and so he was always leery of dealing with them; especially new and unknown objects.
Once he was alone, he made his way up to his loft, deciding to take another brief look at the crystal before hiding it away until the next day when he'd have time to take it to the fortress and question Jor-El as to its purpose. He would have done it immediately, not really happy to have it simply lying around the farm, but he was supposed to meet Chloe for an evening of pizza and an espionage filled movie marathon and he knew that if he tried to postpone it for a trip up north then she'd want to know why. And Clark was certain that it would be painfully easy for her to pull the information out of him; not simply for the fact that Chloe was beyond amazing at uncovering the truth, but also because he loved sharing things with her.
Clark knew that his parents loved and supported him unconditionally; it was the cornerstone of who he was. But they had carried so much fear for him over the years that much of the emphasis, once he'd learned of his heritage, had largely been on hiding it. A fact that he not only understood, but appreciated. The amount of effort and apprehension that he knew had gone into shielding him in those years when he was too young to truly protect himself and his secret awed and humbled him. It was what assured him of the depths of his parents love even when he'd silently worried that he might be more trouble than he was worth.
He also knew that Pete had been a true friend who had been there for him even after learning the truth of his origins. And though Clark knew that sometimes he was overwhelmed by what he had learned, Pete had consistently come through for him, having his back time after time.
But Chloe was a completely unique force in his life. She didn't simply accept the truth of who he was, and she wasn't just supportive of him in that regard, instead Chloe found that part of him absolutely amazing. She delighted in the things that he could do with a joyous abandon that his parents, having had to shield him for so long, never felt like they could completely afford. And though she, too, had taken on the mantle of protector, she hadn't had to do so until he was old enough to understand the dangers himself and so she was freer to delight in each new discovery he made.
But it wasn't just his abilities that she supported with her boundless faith, but all of him, every part. Not only did she have no reservations about the extraterrestrial nature of his origins, feeling that it enhanced his humanity rather than detracted from it, but she also was stalwart in her belief in him as a man, unshakably certain that he was worthy of the great power he'd been given. And slowly, he was beginning to feel more and more comfortable with who he was, and everything that entailed.
Of course, it was right about that time when something would come along – like a blindingly bright, disappearing Kryptonian crystal – and all his worries about his heritage would come rushing back.
With a deep sigh, Clark trudged back to the house to phone his best friend. He'd hoped to solve the matter of the crystal without having to drag her into it, but past experience had taught him that once things started getting weird it was best to go to the resident expert. Not only was Chloe better at unraveling Smallville's perpetual mysteries, but she somehow ended up investigating them whether he let her in on them or not; so, in his opinion, it was far better for her to set off in search for the truth with him by her side where he had the best chance at protecting her from both the unknown and sometimes herself.
The feeling of wrongness hit him the moment he walked through the front door, and it only took a moment to realize why. Things were different than when he'd walked out mere minutes before. A lot of things. The furniture was the same, and all located in its customary positions; however things of more transitory nature were vastly different.
A suit jacket he didn't recognize was tossed over the back of the sofa, a stack of books he'd never seen before sat on the floor, and there were papers spread out on the coffee table. After a brief scan with through the walls and ceiling showed that he was alone in the house, he moved to the papers in search of some clue as to what was happening, picking up the top page and quickly reading it. Brow furrowed, he took in what appeared to be some kind of notes on a series of bank robberies in Metropolis. They wouldn't have been surprising had they been in Chloe's handwriting as opposed to his, given that she frequently worked on stories at his house, or if they hadn't appeared so suddenly when he had no memory of even writing them, much less setting them there.
Replacing them, and making certain that he'd left nothing else out of place, he sped out the door to find one of the few people in the world who would take in this newest development to his life without batting an eye.
He stopped in the alley behind the Talon, and looked carefully out onto the sidewalk before stepping out and entering the bustling coffeehouse. Waving to one of the waitresses, he jogged up the stairs, feeling an easing of his earlier dread now that he was so close to being able to share it with Chloe. Her confidence in their ability to solve any problem that came their way always boosted his own, sometimes shaky, belief.
Hearing her move around inside, he was grateful for the fact that she'd actually made it home in time for their evening together. That wasn't always the case, as the Planet had a way of nearly hypnotizing her. It could be frustrating at times, but he was so happy seeing Chloe accomplish her lifelong dream that he couldn't help but smile at her fierce concentration when he'd show up to retrieve her. Still, with the weirdness he'd just experienced, he was glad not to have to hunt her down.
His knocking quickly answered, Clark slipped past his friend and began pacing the small living room.
"Something's wrong," he began, cutting to the chase as Chloe closed the door behind him. "I was at home and everything was fine. Lionel stopped by, we talked, and then I went out to the loft. I was only out there a few minutes and when I came back things were different, they were–"
"Wait," Chloe interrupted the rush of speech. "Did you just say that you spoke to Lionel?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, not noticing the wide eyed look he was receiving. "He came by to give me a crystal that he'd come across. I was stashing it away in the loft so that I could take it to the fortress tomorrow, when it started glowing. Once the light was gone, so was the crystal and the weirdness began…well, you know; weirder than usual."
As Clark related what happened, Chloe looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since he'd entered the apartment. It was like a window into the not so distant past as she took in the tall, broad form of her best friend decked out in the primary colors that, along with a plethora of plaid shirts, had once been the majority of his wardrobe.
The picture he presented was painfully familiar and yet that very familiarity, once a source of comfort, was now the cause of her concern, for the Clark she was seeing no longer existed. He'd told her himself that man was dead, and she'd witnessed nothing since then to contradict that statement.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach Chloe began cataloguing all of the possibilities in her head: Imposter. Clone. Amnesia. Alternate reality. Time travel. She'd finally snapped under all the pressure and was hallucinating…Suddenly she was less overwhelmed by the possibilities and more by the fact that, in her life, those were all viable theories.
Deciding to assume that she was still sane, she set aside the least likely explanations for the moment – imposter and clone.
If the man before her was an imposter she would expect some minimal attempt to mimic the actual Clark and to come up with a way to confront her that didn't immediately set off warning bells. Likewise, if someone had gone to all of the trouble of cloning Clark with the intent of impersonating the real one, why not stick with the new model? It wasn't as if Clark was a hermit; he worked, he went out. His style, what there was of it, would have been painfully easy to reproduce for someone with the resources to make an entire person.
There was a small part of her that whispered that maybe the other Clark was the imposter, but she knew that it wasn't true. The Clark before her was talking about having just seen Lionel. That would mean that anyone taking his place would have done so before the man's death. And while she was the first to admit how foreign her best friend seemed to her these days, she couldn't deny that there were plenty of times after Lionel's death that Clark was undeniably the person she'd known, inside and out, for so many years.
So, while she wouldn't completely rule them out, Chloe put those on the back burner and considered the other three – alternate reality, time travel, amnesia.
Deciding to start with the easiest question she asked, "Clark, what's the date?"
The question caught Clark off guard. That definitely wasn't what he'd expected to hear when he'd come in search of Chloe's help. While it certainly wasn't difficult to answer, he hesitated as he registered the seriousness of her tone. It was clear that she believed that, for some reason, that the problem he was having might have to do with his perception of time as opposed to something external causing the discrepancies in his reality.
And in the resulting quiet he looked at her, really looked at her, and what he saw shocked and frightened him. Whether she believed it or not, Chloe was beautiful; always had been. But now it was something more, something deeper. She had a quiet grace about her that had always existed but was often overshadowed by her wealth of energy.
He'd obviously caught her returning from work, but she wasn't dressed in her customary professional yet quirky manner. There was certainly a flair that spoke to the style that had evolved over the years, but it was more focused, harder. With her long fitted skirt and silky, sleeveless blouse, her outfit was far more provocative than those she usually wore. But as alluring as it was, it was aloof in its appeal. It invited attention while simultaneously declaring her untouchable, remote, which Chloe had never been.
But even if she hadn't been dressed so differently, and even if he hadn't noted that her hair fell in gentle curls around her face, there was one thing that he couldn't possibly have ignored – her eyes. The first day that he'd met Chloe he'd been struck by her bright, open smile that lit up her face and had shown out of wide, green eyes. They pulled him in every time, and even on the worst days the emotions filling those expressive eyes wrapped around him like an embrace, making him feel comforted and loved. But as he looked into them at that moment, they looked…
Haunted.
There was no smile in their depths, no tender welcome. There was concern, but it wasn't the gentle worry he'd come to expect, but rather a clinical and distant uneasiness that took in the problem to be solved while silently closing him out. The connection that they'd had for so long, that was an absolute he relied on every day, was lacking in her shuttered gaze, and its very absence scared him as nothing else about his current situation had.
"Chloe," he whispered, stepping towards here. But she quickly stepped back, not even trying to disguise here reaction, and Clark felt his heart clench at the rejection.
"The date, Clark?"
"Right. It's April 11, 2007." He closed his eyes before he could see her reaction, practically begging, "Please tell me that's correct."
Her heavy sigh was all the answer he needed but, nevertheless, he opened his eyes to face her confirmation.
"Pretty close, give or take three years," she told him.
And as much as Clark hated the words, they were almost worth it as he saw a small spark of tenderness in her gaze. It wasn't much; nothing like fathomless care he was used to, but it was something. It was a start.
Chloe couldn't deny that she was rapidly becoming convinced that it actually was Clark standing before her. But even though her doubts about the imposter theory were growing even stronger, she decided that it probably wouldn't hurt to take at least a minimal precaution, "Before we go any further, maybe you could ease my mind by answering a question for me."
"Okay."
What she was about to do was risky. If it wasn't Clark, or some version of him in front of her, if it was someone with a nefarious intent, then backing him into a corner could prove dangerous. But she had faith that she'd be able to cover if he failed to answer her correctly. After all, it wouldn't necessarily prove anything one way or the other as she couldn't actually rule out something like an alternate dimension. Still, she knew that she would be much better off with information that, while not any type of definitive proof, was a step in the right direction.
"When we first met, what did I think about you," she asked him. What she was asking him to recall was memorable enough that he should be able to answer, but happened far enough in the past and was a private enough moment that it would be relatively difficult for some random bad guy to know.
"Really? You're going to take advantage of a crisis to point out that I remind you of the Amish?"
Chloe smiled at the fondly indignant answer, and saw a matching grin appear on Clark's face. But the familiarity of it, after so long without the sight of it, caused her breath to catch with a longing that she knew she couldn't afford, and she quickly turned away, grabbing her purse from the coffee table and rummaging through it to emerge with her cell phone.
"Well, that's a good start. Let's see if we can't add another piece to this puzzle," she said as she hit one of the speed dial buttons.
She had a feeling that she already knew what she was about to be told because as far as she was concerned, despite the fact that anything was always possible, there were two ways that things were most likely to play out. The first was that Clark had somehow developed amnesia. It wasn't inconceivable, she knew, as it had happened before. It was also the most logical answer which, in Smallville, made it the least likely. The second was that Clark had somehow traveled three years into the future. That was also possible, again a fact that she knew through personal experience with his doing so.
And, oddly, that was the one that she was leaning towards. Not simply because it was Smallville, the town that Occam's razor forgot, but because he had mentioned seeing Lionel and being given some type of crystal. It was possible that he would lose all memories back to a point in his past where that had happened, but highly coincidental. But what sold her most on her theory was the lack of Lois in their apartment.
Lois had told her earlier that day that she would be in late because she and Clark were having dinner and then catching a movie that night. Chloe knew that if her cousin had been stood up she'd be pacing back and forth in front of her, cursing Clark and vowing bloody vengeance on her absentee date. But a quick phone call would settle the matter, providing that they were still at dinner and not the theater.
"Hey, Chloe; what's up?"
Chloe knew that her cousin would have barked out a sharp "Lane" were it anyone else, but she must have checked the number before answering and she smiled at her cousin's easy manner with her, even though she was now almost certain that she was interrupting her evening out.
"Sorry to bother you in the middle of your date, but I had a really important file sitting on the counter and I can't find it now. Do you know where it might have gone?"
"No clue. Honestly. You know I don't touch your work stuff since…you know."
Rolling her eyes at the dramatic whisper her cousin used every time she referred to what Chloe swore was a small lecture on not touching her work, and which Lois insisted was the epic meltdown of the decade, she moved on to her true purpose in calling.
"So, your evening's going well," she asked and then rolled her eyes at how stupid she probably sounded at that moment, apologizing for interrupting her date with a conversation she was prolonging with banalities.
"Yes. And please don't take this the wrong way, but it'd probably go even better if I weren't on the phone."
With a laugh that she hoped didn't sound as forced to Lois as it did to her, she said a swift goodbye before turning back to Clark.
"Well, that rules out amnesia," she told him.
Chloe seemed certain of her statement, but Clark was unsure how she reached that conclusion and what it meant for him.
"Is that good," he asked hesitantly.
"That really depends on what definition of "good" we're using today," she responded wearily. "On the one hand, we don't have to worry about trying to get your memory back. On the other hand, what we most likely have to worry about now is how to get you back to April of 2007."
Clark shook his head at the logic in her line of thinking which would assign the two options as equal. "And why aren't we rooting for amnesia? I would think that'd be a little easier to deal with than time travel."
"You'd be surprised," she said with a hollow laugh. "Besides, trying to make sure that you knew enough about your life to avoid any major problems would be a Herculean task."
"So," he asked, still somewhat confused. "How exactly did a call to Lois rule out amnesia?"
"Because you were taking her to dinner tonight, and if you didn't show up then, believe me, I would have heard about it."
Clark's mouth opened, but now sound emerged. He closed it, trying to wrap his head around Chloe's statement before trying again.
"Lois Lane?"
As soon as he said it he realized that it was a stupid question as Chloe had just called her, speaking to her with fond familiarity. Still, it was a shock…on top of a mountain of shocks, and it left him wondering how so much could have changed in so little time.
Chloe's eyes suddenly widened and she bit out a curse.
"Shit!"
"What," Clark asked, shaken by her unexpected distress.
"I shouldn't have told you that. In fact," she said, beginning to pace, "I shouldn't be telling you anything about this time period."
And suddenly the situation hit Chloe full force. If this was time travel, if that was the explanation, then this was Clark. Her Clark. The boy she'd kissed in a barn the first day they met. The young man who'd trusted her with his greatest secret. The best friend she ever could have asked for. Before her stood the man who'd been brutally murdered by the ice hearted version that had taken his place.
She wanted to cry at the realization; to throw herself into the strong arms that had so often held her up and weep out the pain she'd been holding in for so long. And despite the words she'd just spoken, she was nearly overwhelmed by the crushing temptation to tell him everything. She wanted to pour out the details of the last three years, to write down every event, every date in minute detail so that he could change it all. She understood the principle behind the preservation of continuity in time travel, but at that moment she wasn't certain that she cared.
After all, what was there to preserve? Zod was freed, Davis became a monster, and Jimmy, wonderful sweet Jimmy, had died. He'd lost his life because of her, and she had a chance to give it back to him. She'd asked it of Clark before, but by then her friend had renounced his humanity and he could hardly be bothered to even attempt to soften the blow of his rejection.
But just as the words were about to pass her lips, she froze. Although pain had become her constant companion in recent months, clawing at her from deep inside until she felt torn and raw, she forced herself to see past that.
When Clark had told them of his knowledge of the future, Chloe knew that he hadn't understood the importance of it outside of its relevance to him. He hadn't realized that while he was focused on his own pain and failure in the war that the Kandorians had declared in that timeline, she was the one who had been left to safeguard what remained of humanity.
Clark, with his convenient decision to let the human part of him die, had been able to abandon the people who'd sheltered him his entire life; the planet that had given him a home. He could leave them all, and without too much effort apparently, to either live under the crushing rule of Zod or die fighting it. It was a luxury that she knew, even without Clark's confirmation, she would not have allowed herself in the future, and it was one in which she wouldn't indulge herself now.
So she let him make his plans about embracing Zod, nodded as he talked about befriending the Kandorians, because she knew that they were irrelevant. Clark was irrelevant. If he succeeded, the crisis would be diverted, and all would be well. But that outcome was nothing that she would depend on because Clark was not dependable. In the original timeline – although he was steadfast in his refusal to acknowledge that's what it was – he had left them all at the first sign of not having everything his way. The man who had refused to alter the past to let her husband live, let the world fall because the woman who hadn't been the one he was planning a life with a mere three months before had disappeared. And no matter how very deeply Chloe loved Lois, letting Zod enslave humanity – not to save her, but just to mourn his loss – was unacceptable.
She'd trust her life to the man who stood before her. But somewhere along the way he'd become the man who left them to die. And without being certain that it wouldn't happen again, she couldn't risk changing the past. There was no way that she could chance losing the information about what was to come; she couldn't give up the only advantage that the world had.
She wanted to be selfish, to choose her own happiness and to hell with the world. She wanted to be able to gamble that things would work out better than they had in the future Clark had seen. But she couldn't, because if things somehow still took that path, then she would be the one responsible for stopping Zod. And she couldn't risk the small edge that the knowledge of the future gave her. Knowledge she might not have if she allowed Clark to change things.
And though she knew it sounded terrible, though she felt horrible for even thinking it, she was so angry at the man he'd become. Chloe knew that the destiny Jor-El spoke of with such reverence was a burden Clark would have to bear; she understood that he didn't owe the world his life in service. But that knowledge was balanced by the weight of the sacrifices that so many people had made for Clark.
Although she'd done it all willingly and without regret, she'd given everything for Clark because she believed in him, in his purpose, and in the protector he would be to the people of Earth. She'd jeopardized relationships of various kinds with the secrets she couldn't tell, she'd died saving an enemy to save her friend and, in the end, even her most precious dream of journalism fell victim to the never ending battle to protect Clark.
And even knowing how it would all turn out, Chloe knew that she'd do it all again. Not for the man with whom she now had an uncomfortable truce, but for the one before her; the one filled with care for more than just himself, no matter how turned around he sometimes became. Because it wasn't what she'd given up to support him that fed the bitter pain inside of her; it wasn't the sacrifices she chose to make that fueled her rage, it was the way that Clark acted as if it was his due; as if the world owed it to him to ease away the hardships of life. Yes, his burden was unique, but so were the benefits that his heritage provided. His lot in life was fraught with abnormal obstacles, but that was sadly true of many of the residents of Smallville. The difference being, in part, that those people didn't have others dedicating their lives to ensuring that they were free to reach their potential.
But in the end, he had ignored it all in the belief that his pain was paramount. That he was suffering in a way eclipsed that of everyone else, that justified abandoning them in their time of need. Martha hadn't deserted him when Jonathan, whom she'd clearly loved beyond measure, had died. And as painful as it was, Chloe had pushed on when she'd lost Jimmy, her friends, and her cousin. So the fact that Clark had let his pain bleed away everything – to the point where she had ceased to exist to him as anything other than a reminder of someone else – left her feeling hurt and betrayed. But more than that, it had drained away her faith in him.
Maybe Clark had learned something from the bleak future he had seen. Maybe he would act differently the next time he was faced with grief. But Chloe couldn't count on it, and there was no way that she would bet the survival of the human race on that hope. Because as much as it pained her to even entertain the idea, she had to consider that Lois was not invincible and she was rarely careful. What if the worst happened? Would Clark's newfound commitment survive if his life wasn't exactly as he wanted it? Would he march forward, doing what was right as he expected others to?
Once upon a time, she wouldn't have hesitated in her faith in him. But that was the past. These days she put her faith in those that she knew would fight, and in a dangerous, but necessary, backup plan.
And so, by sheer force of will, she held herself back. Because even as the wonder of his presence filled her, the undeniable truth that he'd have to go came with it. He wasn't someone she could rely on, no matter how reliable he was, because he was just a momentary anomaly in her life. Reality was cold and hard, and she couldn't afford to lose sight of that fact.
Shaking off the thoughts plaguing her, she started to think through what they'd need to do. First, they needed to find out if her theory was correct. If it was, they needed to find out how it had happened to prevent it from happening again. Then they'd need to send Clark back. And all of that had to be done with the least amount of damage to the time line that they knew. Luckily, she was pretty sure where to start.
"Chloe," Clark called uncertainly. He didn't know what she was thinking, but whatever it was had magnified the pain in her eyes tenfold, and couldn't bear to see her slip further away from him. He smiled as she seemed to snap out of her thoughts and begin pacing in a way that was so like the Chloe that he'd seen just hours before. It was comforting in its familiarity, and it filled Clark with the hope that he always found in the presence of his best friend.
"Look, Clark; if you are from the past, and not some alternate reality or something, then the longer you're here, the more likely it is that you'll see something that can change things."
He nodded his acceptance of her words, even though a part of him wanted to do nothing more than ask a million and one questions.
"Surprisingly," Chloe continued, "I think we might actually be able to get you back without a lot of fuss. But before we do that we need to figure out how you got here. If there's some crystal out there that's randomly sending you on vacation via trans-dimensional time portals, then it's probably a good idea to track it down before it sends you to a place that doesn't have a protocol for this."
"Wait," Clark interjected, slightly dazed. "You have a protocol for this? Is time travel really so common these days?"
Expecting a smile and the customary Chloe lecture about being prepared for anything, his shock only grew as he watched her pass a weary hand over her face before answering with a heavy sigh.
"You'd be surprised."
He knew she must have seen his worry, as she moved forward and placed a hand comfortingly on his arm. It was the first time she'd touched him since he'd arrived and it immediately took some of the edge off of his growing anxiety. Chloe had always been a very tactile person, and he hadn't realized how the lack of contact from her had been adding to the sense of wrongness in the situation.
"So," he summed up. "We need to find a missing Kryptonian artifact, learn what it does, figure out how to neutralize it, and send me back to the past. And we need to do it all before I see something that disrupts the entire continuum of time."
"Yep," Chloe nodded. "Unless you're from an alternate universe, of course. Then you just might be stuck, because I have no idea what to do with that scenario."
That thought chilled Clark to the bone. If it turned out that this wasn't his world, then he wanted to get back home as soon as possible. He missed his best friend, with the open heart and bright smile that filled his life with sunshine. While the Chloe before him was obviously going to do everything she could to help him, it wasn't remotely the same.
And honestly, despite what he'd said, if this did turn out to be the future of his world, if this was his Chloe, then he was going to do everything he could to figure out what had happened to put that haunted look in her eyes and make sure that it didn't get a chance to happen twice.
"Don't worry, Clark. I think I have a way to figure out if this is a timeline glitch, and to keep it from having any permanent effects if it is."
"Great," he responded, unenthusiastic for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that Chloe's teeth were worrying her bottom lip in that way he found cute every time she did it until he would recall that it was always followed by something he wasn't going to want to hear.
"It's not that bad, you big baby," she said with a huff of good natured exasperation. "I want to call J'onn J'onzz…and you have no idea who I'm talking about."
"Sorry," he said, giving her a weak smile. "I'm either from a little further in the past than you think, or we need to focus a bit more on that whole other universe idea."
Closing her eyes, Chloe focused on the date Clark had given her. It was hard; she'd spent the past months trying not to dwell on the less dark times in her life. The night Clark left her standing in the Watchtower, she'd beaten down her inner optimist and locked her so deep inside that she wasn't sure she could ever find her way back. In order to survive, she'd taken all of her hopes and dreams, all of her faith and conviction and funneled them into fighting for justice, righting wrongs. Being able to make other people's lives better, both of the heroes around her and the population at large, was all she had left in the cataclysmic disaster her life had turned out to be.
With a small shake of her head, she forced those thoughts away. The fact that it was difficult to do so was all the more reason to get Clark back to wherever he had come from as soon as possible.
Thinking back, she realized that the date he'd given her was about a month after Lana's wedding to Lex. Clark was still rounding up the Zoners then, and she knew that J'onn had helped Clark hang on when one of them took control of his mind, creating a false reality. Hopefully his brief, yet positive meetings with J'onn, and her faith in him would be enough to earn the considerable amount of trust she was going to ask Clark to extend to him.
"You remember the Zoner that got into your head; made you think that you were crazy," she asked.
"Uh, yeah, he was kind of hard to forget."
"Right. Sorry," she said with a small wince. "The man that helped you through that, his name is J'onn J'onzz. I wouldn't tell you that except that I think that he's probably the best chance that we have of getting all of this, whatever it ends up being, straightened out."
"The Martian Manhunter guy," Clark remembered, pausing a moment before asking, "Do you trust him, Chloe?"
"More than you can possibly imagine," she assured him, smiling softly at the fact that he didn't ask if the other him trusted J'onn, only if she did. "I can't give you any specifics, but I can say that J'onn did something once; something so important, something I couldn't do. I can't tell you what that meant to me."
"Okay, then; if you think he can help then I guess it won't hurt to talk to him," Clark agreed, and the smile that she sent him made it more than worth it. It didn't hold the contagious exuberance that she usually had, but it was warm and genuine, and it made him feel safer than he had since the entire mess began.
"I guess I should call you…the other you first," she told him. "I really hate to interrupt your date, and god knows I don't want to make Lois any more suspicious than she already is about things, but hopefully you'll know what that crystal was and we can have you on your way back home tonight."
Clark watched as she again pressed a preprogrammed button on her phone. That uneasy feeling he'd had since he'd walked through her door fluttered back to life as he watched her press the number two. It was a small thing, and he probably wouldn't even have noticed it if he wasn't trying to focus on the phone to hear the call, but it was disturbing nonetheless.
Chloe always organized her speed dial by importance. When she was in high school, her dad had been at the top of the list. When she'd learned his secret and moved out for college shortly thereafter, he'd become her number one go to number. He'd asked her once if it wouldn't just be easier to assign everyone a number and not bump them around, but she'd told him that people operated on instinct in a crisis and, given their lives, there was a crisis every other day. If she was making a non-emergency call, then she'd have time to remember which buttons went with which person, but if she didn't have the luxury of that time, then it was best to have the most crucial number in the place that she'd instinctually expect it to be.
Seeing the change, he was left wondering two very important things. Who was it that she now turned to in her all too frequent emergencies, and why was it no longer him?
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the phone she had dialed stop ringing and his own voice answer. It only took him a second for him to realize that instead of reaching the other him, she'd gotten his voice mail.
"Clark," she said when the message had played out. "I hate to ruin your date, but something important has come up and I really need to see you. I'm at home. When you get here, give me a chance to explain everything before you do anything rash."
Clark smiled at the gentle admonition. At least some thing had remained the same, even if it was his tendency to act without entirely thinking things through.
"Okay, I obviously didn't reach you, but I think that we can at least get the ball rolling on some of the scientific logistics here," she told him. "There's a man, Dr. Emil Hamilton, who is scary brilliant. He's helped you out a lot and he knows enough about time disruptions to be able to pinpoint trans-dimensional portals. I don't have to give him specifics right now, but it would probably be best to get him to see if there were any hot spots tonight."
Nodding his ascent, he waited as she dialed and then focused on the voice that answered almost immediately.
"Hamilton."
"Emil; I'm glad I caught you. I know it's late, but I have a situation that needs immediate attention."
"In the time that I've known you I'm not sure that you've had any other."
"So why break my streak now," she asked, good naturedly. "I need you to see if you can locate any recent time anomalies. I'm not sure whether this will carry the same signature as the portals, but the event would have occurred this evening and most likely have happened in Smallville, so we at least have that to go on."
"Kandorians?"
"No. I'm pretty sure this is something else, I'm just not exactly sure what."
"Alright. I'll begin a search within the parameters you've given and let you know if I find anything abnormal."
"Thanks, Emil."
He watched as she ended the call, making another immediately. This time the voice that answered was familiar.
"Detective Jones."
"How's my favorite Detective?"
Clark noticed the genuine affection in the words and felt better about agree to involve the other man.
"I am very good, Chloe. Tell me, is that about to change?"
That the fondness was returned was clear and eased even more of Clark's anxieties.
"It's nothing world ending…I hope. But I could use your help as soon as it's possible for you to get here."
"Of course. Where are you?"
"I'm at home."
There was a knock on the door, and as much as Clark wanted to believe that the other Clark had gotten Chloe's message and rushed right over, he didn't need his x-ray vision to know that probably wasn't true.
Chloe hung up the phone, in no doubt as to who was at the door. Opening it, she smiled at the one of the few people she was slowly letting back into her world.
"Wow, pretty speedy these days," she teased.
"Yes," he replied, returning her smile. "Now that my powers have been retuned I find it very hard to resist using them when the opportunity presents itself, and I assume, from your call, that this is such an occasion."
"You could say that. It seems that we've acquired an extra Clark," she said, gesturing toward Clark, who had gone unnoticed.
J'onn turned, a confused look on his face, and Chloe saw it grow even more perplexed as he noticed the changes in Clark that had taken her much longer to see.
"Clark," he said, but his voice made it clear that it was a question, not a statement. But it was Chloe who answered.
"Yeah, that's what we're trying to figure out." Seeing a hurt look cross Clark's face, she rushed to clarify. "I mean, I do believe he's Clark, it's just that he's not the 2010 model."
J'onn turned his attention back to her, asking, "Time travel? Are you certain about this?"
"Actually, no," she admitted. "That's why we called."
She motioned towards the sofa, urging them to have a seat. Looking at Clark in unspoken question, she waited for his nod before she began a recap of the evening's events. She carefully observed J'onn's face throughout the story, glad to see an intense curiosity, but no judgments or conclusions. She knew that Clark was willing but wary of extending his trust, and J'onn's innate serenity would no doubt help to soothe some of his fears.
"So you see," she said in conclusion. "We're kind of at an impasse. We're high on theories and low on facts. And while I honestly do believe that, whatever's going on, this is a real version of Clark Kent, we can't definitively dismiss anything right now."
Looking to Clark with regret, she tried to minimize the hurt she was afraid her words would cause.
"I'm so sorry, Clark. I really do believe that you're you, but you know how it is with Smallville. And there's just so much going on–"
"Chloe," Clark hurried to cut her off. "I'm not mad. You've been amazing, and you're right about being careful. In fact, I'm kind of hoping that this means that you don't run headlong into danger quite as eagerly as the you I know does."
J'onn gave a quite huff of laughter and Chloe's eyes shot towards him both in surprise at the sound and in a plea to let Clark have his comforting delusion.
Letting it drop, J'onn turned back to the matter at hand.
"Clark, if you're willing, I can look into your mind to attempt to ascertain what has occurred. I can assure you that I will be as minimally invasive as possible."
When he looked over at her before answering, Chloe moved from her chair to perch on the coffee table in front of him. Gently placing a hand on his knee, she promised, "I'll be right here, Clark. I know that this whole thing is beyond bizarre, and that we're not the only ones who are smart to have some doubts here, but I swear to you that I won't let anything bad happen."
The earnest trust in his gaze pierced her heart as the old familiarity of it struck her once more, and Chloe swallowed back the tears that fought to well up in her eyes. It was hard not to let her feelings overwhelm her, but if the past year had taught her anything it was how to bury her emotions.
But the fact remained that letting J'onn look through his memories was a fairly good indication that the man before her wasn't harboring any ill intent. He was a victim and he was her friend, and she couldn't help but do all that she could to make this easier for him, and so she gave him a tender smile as he turned his hand in hers, linking their fingers before nodding at J'onn to begin.
The eyes of both men drifted closed and concentration began radiating off them in waves. Despite knowing that neither of them were in danger, Chloe felt her insides twist into a knot of worry. After Jimmy's death, she had wrapped herself tightly in a cloak of control, needing a way to deal with the avalanche of tragedies and still retain her sanity. It was all that had kept her standing when every single support she had deserted her, and it was a physical ache in her chest to be able to do nothing but sit there and wait.
Fortunately, whatever J'onn was searching for was found with remarkable speed, and as two sets of eyes shot open at the same moment, Chloe held back her questions as they both took a minute to adjust to reality again.
"Well," she asked when she couldn't take the silence any longer.
"He is indeed Clark," J'onn confirmed. "And he is a product of the reality we inhabit. It would appear as if there has been a time displacement."
"Because of the crystal," Clark said.
"Yes. It does seem to be the catalyst for your current situation. But," he paused for a moment and a frown settled on his face, "I'm uncertain as to its origins."
"You mean that it might not be Kryptonian," Chloe asked.
"No, no, it is definitely Kryptonian," he assured them. "I recognize the crystal from your memories. But it is based on the earliest of Kryptonian attempts at time travel, and I'm reluctant to believe that your father would send something that has such potential for danger without much greater care."
Chloe saw that Clark was on the verge of arguing that statement. And he would have a point. After all, the virtual version of his birth father had been Jor-El's idea of helpful technology, too, and there was no doubt that decision had spurred its share of spectacular failures. Probably even more so in the mind of a Clark from three years earlier.
"So you're saying that this one might have come from somewhere else," she questioned, wondering if Lionel's discovery was a relic left by a Kryptonian traveler long ago or if they had to worry about a new threat emerging in 2007.
"It does seem likely. It could have been left by any one of the Kryptonians that have visited Earth throughout the past," he said, his thoughts echoing Chloe's. "It's also a possibility that it belonged to one of the more recent visitors to the planet, including those who escaped from the Phantom Zone."
"But how would they get hold of something like that," Clark asked.
"Yeah," Chloe seconded. "Don't you guys frisk them or something?"
"Unfortunately, not all of those imprisoned there were done so in the most controlled of circumstances. It's possible that, somehow, the crystal in question was also transported there."
"And no one thought that might be a problem," Clark demanded.
"You must understand, Clark, that time has no meaning in that dimension. The crystal would be useless to anyone there as there is no chronological continuum to disrupt."
"Unless," Chloe cut in wryly, "the inmates manage to furlough themselves every other day."
J'onn nodded an acknowledgement of her point. "I will admit that this system of confinement was not designed with the possibility in mind that there would come a time when there would no longer be a society dedicated to guarding it. The destruction of Krypton has left many weaknesses to exploit that would have been effectively addressed by those charged with preserving the prison's integrity."
That…actually made a lot of sense, and Chloe felt her righteous indignation fade. Besides, she knew that their time would be better spent determining exactly it would take to rectify the situation, as opposed to assigning blame for it, and so turned the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"Well, however it got here, we need to find where it disappeared to and reverse what it's done," she said.
"The crystal is no longer in your possession," J'onn asked in surprise.
"No. When I touched it there was a bright, white light, and then I was here and it was gone," Clark told him.
"That is troubling."
"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "We think so, too. But it sounds as if you might now exactly why it's a problem."
"I do understand the basic workings," J'onn said with a nod, but cautioned, "although not the subtleties and specifics involved.
"When the technology to navigate the time stream was first developed, it lacked the ability to allow the user to move freely. They were, instead, limited to traveling from the point of origin to one point in time and then back again," he explained. "To make that possible, the crystal acted as an anchor."
"An anchor," Clark asked, certain that he wasn't going to like the rest of the explanation.
"Yes," J'onn replied, pausing to find the simplest way to clarify. "The crystal forms a bond with the user, and it records their appropriate place in the timeline. The jump, forwards or back, is like stretching an elastic cord. Upon reaching the desired destination, the crystal then records the new chronological location. When the traveler chooses to return, the crystal releases its current anchor, and they are simply pulled back to their starting point."
"Well, that seems pretty logical and straightforward…except for the part where it randomly tossed an extra Kryptonian our way. I mean, nostalgia's great and all, but chucking innocent crystal holders through time is one hell of a design flaw."
Chloe's snarky remarks had been called sass by his parents when he'd tried it growing up so, while he couldn't make the acerbic comments that Chloe did, he nodded vigorously to show his wholehearted agreement.
"This is certainly not a shining example of their technology," J'onn agreed. "But although it tends to take on a rather mystical bent with its crystals and stones, in comparison to that of Earth's, it is still technology and subject to all of the same faults and defects."
"Just great. We've apparently stumbled on to the Window's Vista of time travel operating systems," she said before heaving a heavy sigh. "So what this all boils down to is that Clark can't go back without this thing going with him."
"That's highly likely. It's also quite probable that the bond formed between Clark and the crystal will provide the best chance at locating it."
"Which we need to do, even if I could get back by other means," Clark agreed. "It's too powerful and unpredictable to just leave out there somewhere."
"So, if we're all in agreement about finding the crystal, then I think there's something else that we need to consider."
Clark heard the nervousness in Chloe's voice and he knew that he wasn't going to like whatever prompted it.
"J'onn, you mentioned once that you had the ability to manipulate memories. Does that include those of Kryptonians?"
Realizing that he'd been right, Clark began shaking his head even as the other man began nodding his assent.
"No. Chloe, no," he told her before turning to J'onn. "No offense to you, but I don't want anyone inside my head. Not even someone that's been there before."
"Clark, please let me explain before you decide," Chloe asked gently.
Seeing the pleading look in her eyes, he forced himself to take a deep breath, reminding himself that Chloe had looked out for his best interests even when he sometimes ignored them and she more than deserved the chance to explain whatever plan she'd made.
"Okay," he said, nodding for her to begin.
"I know that the idea of letting someone mess with your memories scares you, and I can't blame you for that at all," she said soothingly. "But even if we found the crystal immediately, and when have we ever been that lucky, you already know things about the future that you shouldn't – your relationship with Lois, more about J'onn, the information about this crystal. There's no telling all the things that can change if you take that knowledge back with you.
"I can help you, Clark," she promised. "I have access to a lot of resources. But I can't let you near any of them if you're going to remember it all. You're the best chance we have of finding the crystal, but the odds are significantly decreased if we have to expend the majority of our effort in protecting the timeline."
"There's got to be another way, Chloe. I just can't–"
"There's not, Clark," she declared, cutting off the rest of his argument. "I know this isn't something you're comfortable with and I understand that it's frightening, but we don't have the luxury of finding alternatives or alleviating fears. There are more things happening right now then a cruise through the time stream, and as much as I wish that those things could be put on hold while we focus on resolving this in a manner you'd prefer, that's not likely to happen."
Clark stilled at Chloe's bald words and firm tone, shocked into a momentary silence.
"J'onn's methods may be unfamiliar to you, but the sacrifice I'm asking of you is not. When you turned back the day that you told Lana your secret, those memories still existed, but she no longer had them."
"To save her life," he flung back, shooting to his feet.
"Of course it was to save her life," Chloe said, as she, too, stood. "I'm not condemning you Clark, I'm telling you that you're three years behind right now, and you have no idea the lives that might be hanging in the balance. I'm asking you to give what you were willing to take in the same cause."
In that instant, Clark wanted nothing more than to spit out an angry denial; to refuse her for no other reason than that she'd torn open the still bleeding wound of his father's death. But as he looked down into the face he'd long since memorized, he saw that she understood his pain, he recognized the echo of his own grief.
But beyond her compassion and grief, eclipsing all else in the green depths of her gaze was something he'd never seen before - a powerful, unwavering authority. Chloe had always had a brash sense of confidence that fueled her journalistic endeavors, but the changes in her went beyond that. What he saw before him wasn't an extension of her youthful belief that she could conquer the world; it was, instead, an unrelenting strength born not of seeking the truth, but of knowing it, of hating it, and of continuing onward regardless.
Somehow, in the few short years between his time and hers, life had forged the girl who believed in truth and justice into a woman who would see it done no matter what the cost to herself. It made him ache to imagine what was awaiting the bright eyed, optimistic friend he'd left behind. It also convinced him, more than gentle words or lengthy assurances could have, that Chloe had not made her request lightly. Knowing that she understood the gravity of his concerns and respected him enough to leave the choice in his hands, despite knowing that they could have simply taken his memories without ever mentioning the possibility, changed the answer he'd planned to give.
"Alright."
He watched as Chloe's eyes briefly closed, and when they opened the conflicting swirl of shattering relief and poignant sadness cut through him before her gaze shuttered and he was once more emotionally shut out. And even as a part of him worried about allowing someone to alter his memories, another part was grateful that there would no longer be anything preventing him from learning what danger she was facing, what tragedy she'd survived, and what exactly he'd been doing about it all that had resulted in the emotional distance that clearly existed.
"Thank you, Clark," she said softly, before turning to J'onn. "We'll head on into Metropolis and try to meet up with Emil. If you find anything, let us know; if we find anything, we'll do the same. And thanks for all your help, J'onn."
"We are a team, are we not," he asked, in reference to the recent change in the atmosphere of their small group after their dealings with the JSA.
"Indeed we are," she told him with a smile.
With a smile of his own and nod, J'onn was gone, and when Clark turned back to Chloe she was gathering up her purse and laptop case before grabbing her keys off the counter. Once in the hallway, he waited for her to lock the door and then swept her up in his arms, as he regularly did, and sped off towards Metropolis.