Chloe shut the door firmly behind her. She just needed a minute, five minutes at the most, to collect herself. Cautiously, she placed her bag on the bathroom counter and fumbled with the cold-water faucet. She bent to splash some water on her face and realized she wouldn't be able to hold on. She was going to be sick.
Immediately, she spun about and fell to her knees, violently retching bile and bitter coffee into the toilet bowl. The spasms left her weak, shaking and pathetically grateful to Victor's germaphobe habits. Waiting to regain her strength and hoping another round of dry heaves weren't on the way; Chloe took the time to appreciate the cleanliness of the floor. Even if the bathroom had been a typical example of male hygiene, she still would not have had the strength to stand any sooner.
She was so scared. For six hours now, she had fooled Victor and Milt; convincing them she had no doubts about their success and no qualms about destroying them if they failed. She bullied, threatened, and in turn, stroked their egos and sought to challenge their scientific curiosity. To bring Clark back she desperately needed their help. She couldn't save him on her own and she couldn't stand guard over their every action for the next week. They had to be willingly working toward the solution.
For the past six hours, Chloe put every cell of her being into turning two brilliant fools into zealots for her cause. Channeling every encounter she'd ever had with Lionel Luther, Chloe cultivated terror and greed and let it grow into a desirable fruit. She promised Victor and Milt the kind of contacts that would assure the realization of their dreams…if they succeeded. She guaranteed their humiliation and hinted at physical consequences if they did not. Both were now eager to triumph over the odds. Chloe supposed taking their creation's core processor as ransom helped too.
She could do it, everything promised to them, and she would keep her promises, but Clark's disappearance was the only solid reason Chloe had for believing anything of their research. Clark was gone because of her. If her curiosity over the rumors surrounding their work hadn't been so intense, she would have turned in her article exposing their fraudulent use of grant money yesterday. The only reason Clark was at the wrong place at the wrong time was her need for the whole story, the whole truth. She cursed herself again for bringing Clark along. A good reporter sometimes took risks, but that was her choice. She should have been the one lost, not Clark.
What if Milt and Victor were wrong? What if this crazy sounding alternate universe theory really was as crazy as it was sounding? Could something entirely different have happened to Clark? Was she looking for answers in all the wrong places? These were the doubts that made her sick to her soul.
There was no one for Chloe to turn to. Mrs. Kent was out of the state for the week and Chloe could not get through to her. She did not dare contact Lois since she was all gung ho in exposing secrets and Chloe couldn't trust her to not cause more harm than good. Jimmy might be able to help with some of the logistics of getting parts, but she doubted he was up to the truth. Lex, Lana, and Lionel weren't even worth considering. No, she was on her own and she had to trust her gut. Her aching heart overflowed with fear and anxiety, but her gut told her she was on the right course to bring Clark home.
Five minutes were up.
Chloe pulled herself up off the floor and went back to the sink. She calmly twisted on the faucets, washed, splashed water on her face and rinsed out her mouth. Looking in the mirror, Chloe saw that her gaze was steady and confident. She checked the vital component safely nestled in her bag and then opened the bathroom door. Time to get back to work, Chloe thought, no time to second-guess herself.
She had a hero to save.
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Clark sat on a park bench in the early morning hours as Metropolis began waking up. Not that Metropolis ever really curled up and went to sleep, but the predawn morning hours felt different from the deep silence of the night. Like a breath being held, Clark felt anticipation for the new day. Metropolis was not offering a new beginning but a new awakening, inviting all to explore the fresh dreams that visited during slumber. Where fleeting ideas take hold and where possibilities are reborn.
Dawn on the farm usually came gently, softly. A ray of light peeking through the woods, a rooster doing his duty, and the light metallic clinks and clacks of feeding pails being emptied. Metropolis, instead of starting slowly or gently, was like a full piece orchestra tuning discordantly. Sounds grew and rose, weaving unexpectedly until some unseen signal from the conductor launched the power of the symphony. That moment just before everything found its rythm, that was Clark's favorite moment.
Joggers began filling the paths and shortly after the street vendors rolled into place, the bold aroma of coffee wafted through the air and snapped Clark out of his trance. Coffee meant Chloe and with a twist of emotions, Clark acknowledged he was afraid he might never see her again.
After leaving the Kent farm in Smallville, Clark checked one last place. Jor-el's presence had departed the Fortress of Solitude in his world, but perhaps, he thought, it remained active in this one. He sped across the continent, life just a frozen image he moved past until he reached the frigid flats that hosted Krypton on Earth. He found nothing but the screaming wind. No jutting ice pillars, no repository of ancient knowledge, not even a wrinkle or bump to mar the smooth, icy wasteland. After a search to confirm its absence, he returned to Metropolis to await morning.
Chasing after the familiar brought him no closer to answers and only confirmed that virtually everything was different. Since he didn't think he was crazy (ah, but the crazy never do) he was left with few alternatives or explanations. When the possible is ruled out, what remained, however improbable, must be explored and while he had conducted his futile search of the Arctic, Clark pondered the possibilities.
He was trapped in a world that imperfectly echoed his own. That and the mere presence of another Clark Kent from Smallville had him considering the possibility of being in a parallel universe. But how would he get home? It might have been easier just to be crazy.
He needed to learn more about this admittedly crazy concept and decided to find a public library with internet access. He would try to understand the prevailing theories, if this world had any, and do a search on the two inventors who most likely had a major part in his unexpected travel plans. He reasoned that they too would have counterparts and if he was very lucky, they might have a clue about how he could get back home.
Home. He hadn't been gone all that long, but it seemed so far away. His mother was out of town, but Chloe must be going out of her mind, he thought even as it also occurred to him she would be working on her end to bring him back. Chloe would never give up. Then a troubling thought came. What if she was lost too? Or worse, what if they tried to hurt her and he wasn't there to stop them. He couldn't just sit in the middle of the city and wait for the libraries to open. Clark needed to spring to action now. Anything kind of action would be better than sitting and feeling helpless.
Clark looked over the crowds that were now filling the park at Metropolis's center. Though it was Saturday, a well-dressed business class was mixing with the athletic enthusiasts and enterprising vendors. Many were using the park as a shortcut through the city, just as they did back in his world. In his Metropolis, the park also was a haven for muggers and pickpockets.
He spotted his would be purse-snatcher lurking in the deep shadows formed by a dense outcropping of trees just around the bend of the path. Clark zoomed his sight in on him. This watcher was waiting for the proper quarry: his eyes erratic and darting, his hands flexing and clenching, and his scuffed running shoes shifting restlessly. Clark caught the quick stiffening from the man that signaled he had made his choice of victim as well as the flash of light glinting on the metal blade he pulled from a sheath at his side.
As Clark leapt to his feet, he saw the man in the shadows lunge forward and swipe his blade through the strap of a black leather purse before turning and fleeing. The target shouted in protest and started running after, but her high heels hampered her stride. Clark sped to the other side of the park. He came out of his super speed into a tackle that knocked the thief off his feet. Though Clark took care not to hit any harder than he had back when he played football, the air whooshed out of the assailant's lungs and once on the ground he did not move. Clark felt grimly satisfied.
"You caught him!" The owner of the stolen purse caught up with them. "Wow, you came out of nowhere."
Clark picked up the fallen purse, stood and turned to face the women. His stomach clenched and his jaw dropped. It was the same women from the Daily Planet. This world's Lois Lane. He took a step back instinctively.
"Wait, can I have my purse back?" Lois wondered why the hero of the moment was acting so nervous and guilty all of a sudden.
Clark looked down at the bag in his hand. He'd forgotten he was still holding it. "Sure, sorry," he mumbled and gave it to her.
"Thanks." She took it and quickly opened it to make sure her disc was safe. Most of the research she did last night lead to dead ends, but she didn't want to start all over. When she looked up, she found the young man looking at her strangely, like she was a puzzle. Her first thought was he recognized her from the paper, but his expression said something more. A moment later, it clicked. "Blue shirt, red jacket. Built like a football player. You tackled…" She stopped as he tensed.
What was she saying? Clark didn't think it a good idea to find out. "I've got to be going." By now, a crowd of people was coming toward them, bringing a policeman to take care of the mugger. He couldn't risk super speed without being caught, but he turned and started to walk rapidly away.
"Wait! Stop! " He was ignoring her. "You were at the Planet and at Martha and Jonathan's farm." He hesitated a moment but kept going. Lois took a chance. She hurried after him calling, "Let me help you."
Clark didn't stop but called over his shoulder, "I don't think you can."
He wasn't running, but still she couldn't keep up. She couldn't let him get away. "Wait!" She called and then moved to frustration, played a hunch. She shouted, "CLARK KENT! You stop right this instant!"