STAND
Pairings - Clark and Chloe most likely
Spoilers - It would help if you've ever Watched Smallville
Disclaimer - As much as I'd like to, I own nothing and will in no way make profit from this piece of fiction from the depths of my imagination.

NOTES- I have an idea for a follow up to this if anyone's interested. but it's mostly an Action Adventure Issue and nothing very Chlarkie. Let me Know. I might write it anyways.

Cause when push comes to shove
You'll taste what you're made of
You might bend 'til you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand
-Rascal Flatts

Clark woke up to the pain. Every fiber of his being screaming in agony.

Blood streamed from his scalp, covering his face in what wrestling purists refer to as "the crimson mask" With multiple contusions and abrasions covering his body, significant bruising deep in his abdominal muscles, and a sure realization that he was going to die; Clark leaned his head back into the rubble surrounding him and tried to ignore the aches as he struggled to breathe.

He tried to focus by reminding himself of what was going on and why he was in this predicament. Anything to get his mind off the searing agony and the definite grinding in his ribcage with every intake of air.

Chloe had heard through the grapevine (re: Ollie sent her a message via the Watchtower) about this creature-feature project in North Dakota. Apparently the state containing the largest number of underground missile silos in the Continental U.S. of A. also made a prime location for underground genetic loboratories. In Ollie's words "It's not like any thing else is going on in North Dakota."

Coughing lightly, Clark felt his mouth fill with blood and phlegm. Turning to his side took more effort than he wanted to admit, but on this angle he was able to clear his mouth out and get a slightly better view of the carnage.

At least the people of Grand Forks'll never be able to say "nothing ever happens around here" again, Clark thought grimly.

While there wasn't much to be said of the downtown area of Grand Forks, ND. Prior to this day there were at least a few buildings that had made it through the years without significant structural damage. But since an impromptu landing in the middle of town clenched in a life or death struggle, the city has seen more devastation than most war torn villages.

It started innocently enough. Chloe took Oliver's info and passed it on to Clark, who promptly sped out to the location of the underground lab. Project "Solomon Grundy" involved the top project heads from the Pentagon and LuthorCorp to create the perfect weapon. After all the craziness of Dark Thursday and despite the continual denials from the Government about the existence of extraterrestrial forces and superhuman activities, the "Grundy Project" was viewed as a "necessary premeditated counter-measure to the inevitible threats to the planet." Not to mention the un-commented on financial contracts and power-brokering that such a project enables people like Lex Luthor.

The report Ollie provided made no mention of where the Subject (Grundy) came from originally. Odds are the only people who knew were afraid to put info down on paper. Regardless, Clark certainly wasn't expecting what he saw as he peered through the overhead vents at the lab. Grundy appeared to be roughly seven feet tall, with ridiculously broad shoulders and granite-like skin. His flesh and jumpsuit were a similar white tone, making him paler than the most off white imaginable.

As Clark watched from his vantage point, several technicians were crowding around the prone and hopefully sedated Grundy. Apparently something big was going on and everyone looked more nervous than usual. Within moments, the reason for that became clear.

Several men in full military formal dress came striding into the lab, some even bearing multiple stars on their epaulets. All the lab techs came to strict attention at their arrival, ending their scurrying and waiting for orders.

And then everyone's favourite bald billionaire strode into the room.

Clark groaned at the memory, and tried to shift into a better position. His ribs seemd to ache a bit less if he sat propped back on an angle.

"I'm glad to see that our subject is progressing so smoothly," Lex commented softly to one general while never taking his eyes off Grundy. Clark had to tap into his extra hearing levels to even catch the conversation. "I certainly hope that the information provided by my specialists in regards to the late Ares Project have been helpful."

"Very helpful, Mr. Luthor."

"Good. Then let's hope that LuthorCorp's assistance will be remembered in the future when ..."

The ringing of a cell phone never sounded more obnoxious or more startling then when your super-hearing is jacked up in an enclosed air vent duct. The sound created an intense echo in Clark's ears, causing him to involuntarily jump and squirm in surprise.

The blood stinging Clark's eyes hurts less than his pride at this memory.

Needless to say as Clark's startled body knocked open the air vent he'd been leaning on and crashed the 20 feet into the lab, chaos began to ensue with all involved. Landing on one of the pieces of support equipment sent several power shorts throughout the lab and the mandatory-in-the-event-of-accidental-disruptions sparks and electrical arcing burst into the air. As technicians ran to the equipment and soldiers rushed towards Clark, the sprinkler system kicked on and began deluging everyone present with non-flammable foam. Within moments the entire lab looked like a bizarre whipped cream playground similar to something he and Pete had caught during a free cable preview on the Playboy Channel.

As two soldiers hauled Clark up by the arms and several more leveled firearms at him, Clark shook his head to clear it of foam (and the echo of his cell ringing) Lex began to stride through the mess to get a better look. Resigned, Clark lifted his eyes to the man who killed Lana and prepared to face the music when everything went to hell.

Soloman Grundy rose to his feet and promptly began laying about himself with both fists.

Clark coughed again and was forced over onto his side, cradling his body with both arms as fresh blood leaked out of his lips. I've never seen anything like this guy, Clark thought. Even Zod's rampage was calculated and focused. But this guy ... All he does is lash out like a colicky child.

Quickly the fight escalated out of the lab and into the halls. In short order Clark learned two things. One: Soloman Grundy had no concners about collateral damage and loss of human life. And Two: Grundy's punches hurt like fire.

At some point the fight made it out into the open air. Clark tried to keep Grundy in the open and away from settlements, but as usual that was easier said than done. As a military helicopter passed by overhead, Grundy leapt up to it and got carried away as Clark was forced to flee from other military units who clearly also viewed him as a threat. By the time Clark caught up with Grundy, the chopper was heading towards Grand Forks looking for all the world like a frantically swirling leaf falling off a tree. Seeing no choice in the matter, Clark leapt upwards at full speed, snagging Grundy about the midriff in an elevated flying tackle and sent them both hurtling towards Terra Firma.

Unfortunately for Grand Forks, the arrival point was Fifth and Main.

Clark quickly lost count of the number of cars, department stores, and office buildings that Grundy smashed him through. Just the landing alone had knocked the wind right out of him, unlike his opponent. Grundy was a sheer animal, grinding Clark's face into paving stones and hurtling him bodily through glass, brick and mortar. Every punch he landed took Clark back another peg until finally he landing a devastating blow, sedning him crashing down to where he now rested.

It's times like this when the hero business sucks.

It didn't take his enhanced hearing to note the continued sounds of chaos and gunfire. Grundy was still on the rampage. And here I am, barely able to keep breathing. Clark tried to reset himself and prop up on his elbows, but failed miserably. And to think this all started because I was too stupid to turn off my cell phone.

The noise outside began to subside and move farther away. Selfishly, Clark had to admit that was the first piece of good news he'd had all day. Not like I'm in a position to take more of a beating right now.

As he laid there, trying to regain focus and working very hard on not passing out again, Clark was forced to question why he even bothered. In many respects, he knew full well why there were so many meteor-mutated and superpowered psychos roaming the planet these days. Most of them came about because of the same meteor shower that brought him to Earth in the first place. Even as he thought this and began the familiar self-flaggellating blame game he's played for years, he could hear his father's voice in the back of his head. "Son, you cannot hold yourself responsible for the actions of others. No matter how they got the way they are, they made a choice to do the things they do."

And one day, I'm going to make the choice to stay home and ...

"Clark!"

Okay, I'm officially hallucinating now.

Through bleary, bloodsoaked eyes Clark watched as a blonde haired bundle of energy clambered over the rubble separating them. The concern behind the unshed tears in her eyes was as unmistakable as her features.

"Oh my God, Clark. Can you even hear me?"

I can hear your heartbeat from three miles away if try hard enough. "Wh - " slight pause for a fit of bloody coughing. "What are you ... Chlo?"

Dropping painfully to her knees right to his beaten form, Chloe ran her hands up to Clark's face and inspected the damage. Going by the pace of her heartbeat and the disarray of his hair and clothing, she was clearly concerned and trying to not to show it. "Jeez Clark, I think he actually broke your nose."

"So much .. " Coughing Break "... for that ... modelling career."

Seeing Chloe attempt to smile while pretending to be only casually concerned nearly broke what was left of Clark's spirit. "You weren't that pretty anyway."

"That bad?"

"You've looked better."

There came a crackle from inside Chloe's coat. Oliver's voice echoed in the room. "Have you got the Boy Scout?"

Chloe jumped and reached for her communicator while Clark suddenly knew without a doubt who it was that was called him while he was sneaking into a top secret government lab. "I've got him. But he's hurt bad Ollie."

"Well we need him if he's able, Watchtower. This Grundy guy is making short work of this town, and I'm almost out of arrows."

That's that I guess. Clark twisted, trying to get his feet under him. Chloe slapped both hands to his chest and pushed him back down. It was a testament to Clark's pain that he was even able to be manhandled llike that.

"Clark, you are in NO condition to go back out there." Is her voice trembling? "Dammit I'm serious. I have never seen you this bad, and that monster out there still looks ready to go another 12 rounds."

"Then I better get out there ..." Ow. " ... before he uses Ollie ... as a sparring partner."

There was no hiding the tears rolling down her face now. Chloe applied more pressure and tried to hold Clark down. "Please Clark, you can't do this yet. You need time to recover." She paused to give her words greater emphasis. "He can kill you."

What about the people he's already killed, Chlo'. "You shouldn't be ... I never wanted you to ... see me like this."

"I'm not loving the sight either, but when you didn't answer your phone, " I knew it. "... I had to get Ollie and the boys in on this. And there was no way I was going to let them come for you without me."

"My hero."

"Don't you forget it."

"Never do ... Can I get up now?"

Chloe looked him up and down doubtfully. "Can you?"

He took a deep breath, feeling the creaking of his ribcage as it expanded and contracted past the points of pain. "Let's find out."

There are no words for the amount of effort the simple act of standing took Clark Kent on this day. The images of all the people that have already been put in danger, the property that was damaged and reckless disregard for life all flashed through his mind, giving him the strength to push past the pain. But in the end, it was the knowledge that his friend, his beautiful, supportive, best friend had risked her life (again) to find him in the middle of a warzone that made certain that there was no quit in him. I might be The Man of Steel, Clark gritted mentally as fresh blood broke through the scabbing on his scalp and began to trickle down his cheek again. But Chloe is the real powerful one in this room.

Getting his feet under him was tough. Waving Chloe's supportive hands away was only moreso. But forcing his body to a full upright position was both the most painful and satisfying combination of feelings and physical endorphin rush he'd ever experienced. Well it hurts, but at least I can still dish it out with a spoon.

Chloe hesistently reached out to touch his arm. Her deep green eyes searched his face, as if trying to imbed it in her memory. "You don't have to do this."

Clark blinked. "You didn't have to come find me."

She tried to laugh it off. Fresh tears still hiding just beneath the surface. "I'm not much of a hero if I can't save the gentlemen in distress."

He smiled. "Then neither am I."

Just one step at a time, Kent.

His body lurched forward and stumbled slightly. Chloe was forced to steady him.

"Clark. Just take a few minutes to ..."

"Get more people killed?"

She closed her mouth with a click. There was nothing left to say.

They would never remember who pulled the other into their arms first, but Chloe made certain to give Clark hell for staining her clothes with his blood when the world stopped spinning. All they knew was that without this moment of mutual support that neither one could move on with the strength necessary to see the job through to it's end.

Clark pulled back slightly and looked down at her. His face was a horror story. Bloody, broken nosed and the left side bruised beyond recognition. "You are my hero Chloe." His voice was rough, coming out in a gurgling rasp. He leaned forward to press his split and cracked lips to the top of her head. "Now let me be yours."

Her lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably. She tried several times to form a sentance. But nothing seemed to come out.

Pressing his palm cooly against her cheek for just a moment, Clark managed to smile before turning away. Somewhere out there, a monster was continuing to run rampage over the world. And no one else was able to stop it.

Clark strode across the rubble and back out into the street, stripping off the shredded remains of his coat.

Looks like a job for me.

And then he blurred away.

Chloe stepped out of the destruction after him, gathered up Clarks' battered red coat and held it against her long after the dust from his backdraft settled back to earth.

END