HOLDING OUT pt4

Pairings - Not sure yet, 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.

NOTE – Not sure if I have anything to add here as a personal note. I feel like I should be saying something. But I've got nothing. Please keep reading, and I'll keep on posting. You all rock and are excellent at making me feel like I'm going somewhere with this piece.

September 24, 2013
3:25am
Kent Farm

Smallville

Turning down the final stretch of gravel road, Chloe piloted her borrowed vehicle around the corner carefully and rolled underneath the gateway holding the perennial "Kent Farm" sign. The night had cleared up during the three hour drive from Metropolis to Smallville and now the light off the half-moon made everything seem so clear, and so easy to see by.

At the end of the road, Chloe could see the light on the porch as well as the one in the kitchen, brightening the darkness around the warm, cheerily yellow home. Pulling into the end of the driveway, she couldn't stop herself from looking wistfully over at the barn.

How long now?

Shutting down the car, Chloe took a moment to just sit and marvel at her surroundings. From the fence posts, to the old tractor sitting unused near the field, to the surrounding cornstalks. She took a deep breath.

Still smells like home.

Getting out of the car, she shouldered her tote bag (Now with new and improved weaponry, emergency communicators and overnight clothes!) and took a careful look around. Bart had promised her that he'd keep her from being followed. And there had been no sign of anyone behind her, not since she'd made the turn off to Wichita.

I always hate taking the long way here. Especially in Lois' gas guzzling sports car.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe started walking towards the farm house, intentionally not looking in the direction of the barn.

As she climbed the steps onto the porch, the front door creaked open spilling warm light out in a yellow glow. Mrs. Kent stood silhouetted in the light as an old dog plodded past her feet and trotted over to Chloe.

Dropping to her knees with a small cry, Chloe took the dog in her arms. "Shelby!" The reddish furred dog placed her front paws on his shoulders and licked at her cheek. "Oh my God, I can't believe what a good dog you are."

"She wasn't that good earlier. Getting into the garbage was something I'd hoped she'd outgrown a few years ago."

Wordlessly, Chloe stood up and looked at Mrs. Kent.

Wearing a comfortable old robe and leaning against the doorframe, Martha Kent looked like the years of solitude were finally catching up with her. Hey perpetually auburn hair was showing lines of gray at the temples and her normally tanned face was beginning to look more pallid and pale than Chloe had ever seen it before.

Stepping forward clumsilyly, Chloe dropped her bag and carefully wrapped her arms around Mrs. Kent's torso. In response, Martha held her back and whispered quietly. "I've missed you too, Chloe."

God not again.

Chloe sniffled against her shoulder, trying to hold back the sobs. "I didn't mean to lose touch," her voice breaking. Martha soothed her gently, rubbing at her back. "It's just … After everything … I kept myself so busy. Buried in my work."

"It's all right Chloe."

"I missed you, I missed everything … I miss …"

Martha squeezed her tighter, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "I miss him too."

After a few more minutes, both women separated and went into the house. Shelby followed dutifully behind them, wagging her tail softly.

"You've certainly stirred up a hornet's nest with City Hall," Martha said as she poured another cup of coffee. "I've been out of politics for over a year now, and even I'm getting calls from the Senator's office looking for information."

"Well it's all true, sadly." Chloe took a long sip before continuing. "I've been gathering the intel and putting together evidence since Mayor Lawrence took power." She shook her head sadly. "If I'd put it together beforehand I might have been able to stave off his election by investigating his connections to InterGang."

Martha leaned back with a slight smile and took up her cup again. "As I know you've said in the past, 'You can't do everything' Chloe."

She grimaced faintly. "But this is different."

"It always is."

"You know what I mean. If I had started digging before the election, none of these terrible things would ever have happened."

Martha shrugged. "Maybe. But then they might have happened all the same." She reached across the table to grip Chloe's hand softly. "There wasn't anything you could have done."

Chloe dropped her gaze. "I know that." She didn't say anything for a long moment. "Doesn't feel like it though."

Martha took her hand back. "It never does."

They sat in silence for several long moments, while the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway quietly reminded them of the inevitable arrival of four a.m.

Shelby got up from her place at Martha's feet, yawning hugely and shaking herself out. She plodded over to her water dish and began drinking.

"It is good to see you Chloe."

Snapping out of her internal reverie, Chloe met the older woman's smile with one of her own. "You too."

Martha sighed, looking around the kitchen. "It's so hard to believe that this big old house was once so full of sound. Of life." Her smile turned wistful. "And to think I used to long for quiet."

They shared a sad chuckle.

"I miss my boys so much. I miss them everyday." Shelby perked up her ears at Martha's tone and trotted over, resting her muzzle on her lap. Martha smiled and scratched behind the dog's ears. "I miss the sound of the tractor being worked on. I even miss Jonathan's snoring, and that is something I never thought I'd say."

"I bet."

Martha's face got serious again and set down her cup. "Are you sure that you wouldn't feel more comfortable staying someplace safer? I'm sure that General Lane, or someone I know in Washington could …"

"Mrs. Kent, if you want me to leave I will. Gladly." Suck it up, Sullivan. "But … All day as I was being told to leave town, find a safe place to hide … All my life I've only felt safe in exactly one place." She put down her cup and looked Martha dead in the eyes. "And that place is here."

Long pause.

Martha stood up. "Well, let's get you settled in then."

How can this room still smell like him after five years?

Sitting on his bed and curled up in the comforter Chloe leaned back against the pillows and tried to get some sleep. After the third or fourth attempt to keep her eyes shut, she sighed fiercely and snapped them open. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her knuckles into her eyes in frustration.

It's almost five in the morning. Please let me get some rest.

But her pleas went unheeded. In the distance the first rooster was beginning to crow, and the sun was slowly rising over the horizon. The light in the bedroom got steadily brighter and warmer, even behind the thick curtains.

Casting her gaze around the room, it was hard not to see him in every corner. From the Sharks posters on the wall, to the multitude of pictures of Martha and Jonathan, and the closet loaded with primary colors and flannel. The piles of books now neatly stacked on shelves, or put away in boxes still ranged in topic from Advanced Astronomy, to Lifestyles in Ancient Rome, to the Cat in the Hat.

Getting out of bed and wrapping the comforter around her, Chloe walked over to the dressing table and started fingering the trinkets and knick knacks. Old toys. A beat up softball. A notebook filled with university notes.

Picking up the picture frame she looked longingly at the image framed therein. God, we were so young. When was this taken? 1999? 2000?

They were all sitting in the bleachers at Smallville High, likely watching the Crows in action going by their pennants and coats. Pete was smiling his best one-day-I'll-be-the-assistant-to-the-governor grin and leaning way into frame. She was leaning against his broad shoulder and rolling her eyes up at Pete, but also clearly laughing. And Clark ….

Where are you?

Clark was looking right at the camera, smiling that million dollar smile and looking like the happiest kid on the planet.

Closing her eyes, Chloe put the picture frame back on the dresser and walked over to the window. On the way she retrieved her communicator from her tote bag and flipped it open.

Two messages.

Still don't know y u wanted 2 drive. Flash Express always there 4 u. B Safe – B

Call if you need ANYthing Watchtower. We're just finishing business up in Korea right now. Another week at the outside. Remember, don't use the cell. There might be a trace on its signal. GA

Smiling slightly Chloe closed the communicator and leaned against the window frame, watching the sun rise. Off in the distance, she could see the workers beginning to come down the gravel road to work on the rm. Since Clark began his sabbatical (The Official term for the Senator's only son's sudden disappearance) Mrs. Kent had hired a number of local hands from neighboring farms to pick up the slack and take over the crops, fields and livestock. As recently as this year, Martha told her that she'd sold over ninety-percent of the land to these hands hanging onto only the main yardage around the house and barn and the back forty that Jonathan and Clark had loved so much.

Looking over to his barn, his original Fortress of Solitude, made her nostalgia even more poignant. It's not making me any sleepier though.

Closing her eyes again, Chloe opened the one memory she could never forget.

It was the end of summer. Just a few weeks ago they'd gone through the hell of capturing and subduing the government (and Luthorcorp's) Solomon Grundy project. Every member of the team had needed serious medical attention after that. Even Clark, though he was back on his feet by the end of the next day.

He was up in his loft, standing at the open window looking out to the fields with his back to the stairs. There was no doubt that he'd seen and heard her arrive, but he still stood facing away. Almost afraid to look around.

When he did turn at the sound of her voice, the look in his eyes was so emotional, so overpowering, that every one of the emotional defenses around her heart threatened to break into a million pieces. It took every fiber in her being to not run headlong into his arms right there. For a long moment they stood there, staring at each other. When he finally spoke, they were words that she never imagined him saying.

"I have to go."

For the next half hour, Chloe felt her heart crumble to her feet as they argued back and forth against his decision. Every spurious and admittedly true argument she put forth was instantly riposted with his insistent, yet very possibly accurate claim that "I don't even know the half of what I am capable of doing." Yet still she argued, fighting back the tears and the heartache in her bones and focusing on the determined yet pained look on his face.

Finally there was nothing left to say. No arguments left to put forth. Only one question.

"How long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

With that, Chloe finally gave in and threw herself into his arms and squeezed as tight as she could. He wrapped his arms around her gently but firmly, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Finally, he disengaged her arms and stepped back. Picking up his backpack and slinging it over one shoulder he stopped and looked at her one last time. With his free hand he touched her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently to wipe away the tears. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then clearly changed his mind. Instead he leaned forward and softly kissed her just to the side of her mouth.

The sound of heavy machinery firing to life snapped Chloe's eyes wide open. In a panic she lurched from her position against the window and dove for her tote bag, retrieving her pistol flipping off the safety. Staying crouched low she rushed back to the window and peered out into the yard.

Off near the barn, several men in overalls were trying to fire the old tractor back to life. The diesel stack chugging away fiercely and its old gears grinding at the pressure. Closer to the barn another man had fired up the wood chipper and was starting to grind out the extra brush retrieved from the cropland.

Glancing at the digital clock at the bedside table, Chloe realized that it was now almost eight thirty. Sighing in relief, she pressed her free hadn to her chest and thumbed the safety off her pistol.

Definitely bedtime.

Closing the curtains firmly to keep out the light and as much noise as possible, Chloe tucked the pistol under the pillow and crawled back onto the bed. Wrapping herself even tighter into her comforter, she closed her eyes, hoping to dream happier dreams.

END of Pt4