A/N: Sorry about the delay on this chapter. I was away for 15 days on a cruise with my mother in law and since returning have had work dramas plus home dramas with my son having to have surgery! Needless to say that hasn't helped with my writing. I was hoping to upload a chapter before going on the cruise but I was just too busy. Then I figured I could write whilst on the ship, but with it being such a different environment it didn't happen, and then since returning home there has been one disruption and drama after another. But finally here is the next chapter. It's a bit shorter than my usual chapter length, but I felt it ended in the right place, though maybe not up to my usual standard.
I want to thank everyone for the amazing reviews on the last chapter! I hadn't expected so many! That was probably some of my better writing and I did find it hard to follow it up. Still I think, well hope, you'll enjoy this chapter as well. The action is slow but it ends in an interesting way.
Enjoy!
.
Chapter Eight.
.
They kept him in overnight for observation. Though Clark tried to tell them he was fine, in a manner of speaking that was. He hadn't suffered a concussion, but then he could hardly explain what had happened to him either without them referring him to the psych ward. Best to just nod and agree with whatever the doctors said.
At least he was beginning to feel relatively normal again. He had thawed out. They had given him some pain relief, elevated his leg and routinely applied an ice pack to his knee.
An array of people visited him. Of course Lois was there from the beginning, followed by his mom.
Lois did most of the talking, elaborating on exactly what happened in every dramatic detail. Now and again his mom's eyes would meet with his, and he'd see the worry on her face. Eventually his mom asked Lois, in a kind manner, to get her a coffee.
Once Lois left the room, he relayed everything to her about the vision and how the voice had called him 'his son'. Maybe it was his birth father's voice? Her forehead furrowed with concern. There was no reassurance he could give her. It left him feeling unsure and self-conscious.
"I'm technically speaking an alien, whether I like it or not. Maybe I have to accept what I am," he muttered. "It seems I have no choice."
Which led him to start thinking about how that voice choose its perfect moment to hit him. It couldn't just be random. He was meant to be injured. As if ending his football season was one way to motivate him to look into restoring his powers.
His mom squeezed his fingers in a reassuring gesture.
"Maybe that's not a bad thing, Clark. Sooner or later you will have to deal with your grief."
But could he? Returning to the place his father had died would be like a form of emotional torture. It would hurt a lot more than his knee currently did. He could handle physical pain, but emotional pain – that was different. It was in those moments he had learned to shut down.
"I know," he murmured.
He glanced down at his leg. Wearing only a hospital gown the scar on his thigh was there for everyone to see. Why did it have to be his left knee? Just thinking about his dad made the scar tingle, as it always did. He rubbed it. 'From here on out your body will continue to break down if you do not fulfil your destiny.'
He shivered.
"What is it, Clark?" his mom quickly enquired.
He wasn't about to tell her those words. She would only start to worry even more than she currently did.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Chloe stood there looking anxious and hesitant.
"Can I come in?"
"Of course," his mom returned.
Chloe walked into the room, her concerned eyes sought his. Relief crossed her face. "Thank god you're alright."
She crossed the floor and hugged him. He hugged her back.
"I'm alright."
She pulled back, her eyes raking over him. "You were out cold, Clark. We didn't know how bad it was."
Her eyes travelled to his knee. "That doesn't look good."
"Doctor's seem to think I've torn the ACL."
She bit down on her lip. "You won't be able to play football."
"Not indefinitely," he muttered, "Just not for the rest of this season."
It was unlikely he would return to football. It was unlikely he'd even get to live a normal life given the voice from the vision. 'You are not human.'
Yet, it was the only life he knew. A deep, all too familiar ache resided in the pit of this stomach. He would always be different. He could no longer lie to himself.
Lois returned with the coffee. So far she hadn't asked again about what had happened to him. She hadn't had the chance, but it was only a matter of time. Not that he could ever tell her the truth.
Chloe glanced at her. "I've never seen you move so fast."
Lois handed the cup of coffee to his mom. A look of uncertainty briefly crossed her face, puzzling him. He recalled their moment in the ambulance, the way she had tried to warm him up. He had pulled her into his arms and nothing had felt so right. These feelings towards her were both exhilarating and daunting.
Had she really moved so fast to reach him? She had literally pulled him back from the frozen wasteland. He recalled the tears in her eyes – for him.
"Well … it's Smallville. I had to make sure he was okay, because who else is going to do my assignments for me?"
Her words came out in a tumbled rush. She drew in a deep breath. He could almost swear she looked a bit flustered. Her eyes met his as if seeking some kind of reassurance.
"Isn't that right, Clarkie?" she continued and proceeded to punch him in the arm.
Lois was all bluff but the uncertainty in her eyes was something he was beginning to recognise. Admitting her true feelings didn't come easy, if at all.
"Of course," he returned, shooting her a sarcastic smile.
She visibly relaxed. But Chloe didn't appear convinced. Clark could see that she was deep in thought. Before anything further could be said they were interrupted by Pete.
Suddenly the room was overcrowded with people. Pete gave his commiserations. "Tough luck, man."
He nodded not knowing what to say.
"Season over already just as you were fast becoming the new football hero of Smallville High," Pete continued.
All eyes were on him, making him feel self-conscious, yet again. He shrugged.
"It doesn't matter."
Pete's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, what do you mean?"
Lois' eyes rested on Clark's face. What was with the change of heart? And exactly what had happened to him when he was unconscious? She hadn't forgotten his tears, his tortured laboured breathing, as if struggling against some other insurmountable force. The way he had shook so badly in the ambulance, and the way he had held her as if she was his lifeline. Never had she encountered such strong feelings for another person. Feelings that left her rattled and troubled, because she didn't know how to fight it.
And now Chloe was watching her, a question in the depths of her eyes. Lois averted her gaze. It wouldn't do for Chloe to become suspicious of her feelings towards Clark. Because there would be nothing between her and Clark except friendship. She was adamant about that.
"I mean," Clark stammered. "Its only one aspect of high school and then there's the Torch."
Chloe raised an amused eyebrow. "You thinking of becoming a reporter, Clark?"
"You never know."
Chloe appeared pleased about that even though a puzzled frown dented her forehead.
"What about Lana?" Pete blurted out. "You've been dreaming of going out with her for the last three years."
A sudden silence descended upon the room. The clock ticked loudly on the wall. Clark shifted.
"I'm not sure Lana is all I thought she'd be," he murmured, his eyes briefly met with hers before he quickly averted his gaze.
Lois looked down at her clasped hands, ignoring the sudden warmth in her cheeks.
Chloe shook her head in disbelief. "Did getting knocked unconscious give you a life changing epiphany?"
A look of discomfort crossed Clark's face. "In a way."
Lois didn't miss the look he exchanged with Mrs K. There it was again, as if they shared a secret only they were privy too. What was with that?
Lois had little time to ponder the thought when a nurse entered the room and ushered them out the door. Clark grabbed her by the hand and murmured her name. She turned to look at him, her fingers tingling in his warm grasp. He looked lost and alone, she fought the urge to fling herself in his arms once more. That wouldn't go well in front of everyone, especially Chloe.
"Thanks Lois."
She nodded, managed a half smile. "Just don't do it again, Smallville," she quipped lightly, "I'm beginning to lose count of the times I've come to your rescue."
Clark was itching to get out of that hospital. Despite the many questions rampaging through his mind, he managed to sleep okay. Exhaustion had soon over taken him, lulling into a deep seated need for rest. Much to his relief there were no visions. Just dreams of Lois, calling him, pulling him back from the icy wasteland.
His mom picked him up. The brace was cumbersome. Negotiating the crutches even more so. He should only need them for a few days, but the brace he would have to wear till he had the so called operation. An M.R.I. scan of his knee had been performed that morning, showing a rupture of his A.C.L., along with a torn medial collateral ligament.
"They call it the 'terrible triad'," he told his mom in the car on the way back to the farm. "He recommended that I have surgery to repair it otherwise the knee will continue to remain unstable."
"Oh, Clark," his mom sympathized.
He was still shell shocked by that information. At the time he'd been unable to process it. He needed surgery?! Once there was a time when he was invincible and now – now he was an invalid, for the time being that was.
"Unless I can find some way to miraculously restore my powers."
But that only gave him about three weeks. He ran a hand through his hair. "I have no answers." His hand dropped to his leg. "And Lois suspects something different about me."
Why did life have to be so complicated? Lois was smart and sassy with a curious mind. He'd already told her he was an alien in a drunken state, which she hadn't believed, but what if he were to tell her it was the truth?
"I don't think I've ever seen Lois that upset," his mom causally remarked. "She's grown fond of you."
Clark shifted uncomfortably on his seat. It went both ways. His mom was shrewd.
"She's good for you, Clark."
"I don't think entering in a relationship is an option for me, mom."
She glanced his way. "Neither is being alone, Clark."
'You waste time with simple human pursuits filled with misplaced pride and arrogance. That is not your destiny.'
His so called birth father's voice still haunted him. Maybe it was his destiny to be alone? The thought made him shiver. He didn't want to be alone. He just wanted to be like everyone else.
"Right now I think you need her as much as she needs you," his mom continued.
Clark gazed out of the car window, watching the fields of corn roll by. Was there really any point in discussing this? Lois was human, he wasn't. It was a simple fact. But they could still be friends. Safer that way and her friendship meant far too much to him to risk losing her altogether.
Lois tidied up Clark's bedroom. It would be better if he slept in his own bed till his knee was better. He was tall and it wouldn't be comfortable for him sleeping on the couch in his present condition. She tried not to think about him. But who was she kidding. He had a way of taking up all of her waking thoughts. And not just because of her feelings towards him. He was a mystery too. She had spent the night tossing and turning, re-living the unusual moments spent with him. Three times now she had found him shivering with cold, out of it and seemingly elsewhere. Then there was the whole alien thing. 'Do you know when you were born? – I don't.' That hadn't made sense. In fact very little of what Clark had said that night did.
'If I had been normal, my dad – wouldn't have died.' She still remembered seeing such sorrow in his eyes.
Normal, she silently snorted and picked up a photo of him as a small boy, lovingly held in his parent's arms. 'Of course he's normal,' she said out loud. 'Look at that face.'
Damn but he was cute. Placing the photo frame back on the bookshelf, Lois spied what looked to be an album of sorts. It was buried beneath a stack of magazines. Curiosity aroused, Lois pulled it out and began flipping through it. Photos from his childhood filled the pages along with merit certificates, mostly to do with being well mannered and a polite, thoughtful student. The only certificates she received were of the complete opposite, she wryly mused. Two people couldn't be more different.
There were even photos of him with missing teeth. "See – that's normal!" she exclaimed.
Something was lacking however, there were no 'participating in sporting events' certificates. What boy didn't play some kind of sport? There wasn't even so much as a swimming certificate.
She found it hard to believe, given how good he was at football that he'd never played in any kind of team sport until just recently.
The photos came to an abrupt halt at the end of his freshmen year. In fact it looked as if he hadn't touched the album since then. As if his life had come to an abrupt halt. And it had. His father's death. Her hand rested on a blank page.
Her memories returned to the first time she saw him.
'So this is the famous Clark Kent,' she'd commented, eyes raking over him.
Chloe had done nothing but talk about how great he was, but the guy standing before her in that diner was – so ordinary. Dressed in plain denim jeans with an, overly large, red plaid shirt that seriously hurt her eyes.
'What's with the wardrobe malfunction?'
He blinked, somewhat surprised. 'Who are you?'
'Lois Lane,' she grinned up at him, 'Chloe's cousin. I'm here for the summer holidays.'
Clark's eyes shot to Chloe's as is seeking confirmation of this. She nodded.
'I'm checking out all of Chloe's friends.'
His eyes returned to her face, confused and somewhat bothered. He looked so innocent and green. Just by one look she could already tell that he was one of those boring, typical good guys. He probably didn't understand the concept of the word; rebellion. This was going to be one long, boring summer holidays.
'So you're the farm boy I've heard a lot about.' She continued with her assessment. 'You certainly can't take the farm out of the boy.'
The early days, they brought a smile to her lips. Who would ever have known Clark would turn out to be so much more, or that her, Lois Lane, would ever fall for a farm boy! Shoving the album back under the pile of magazines, the corner of what looked to be a photograph caught her attention. Unable to resist her curiosity she pulled it out. Surprised to find it was the very photograph she had taken of him in the barn, their first day of training. The before and after photo, only she had never gotten around to taking the 'after' photo.
How put out about it he had been that day. That same look was captured on his face along with a hint of exposure. His eyes revealed far much more about him than he probably was aware or wanted. Eyes she could drown in, eyes that reflected his beautiful soul.
Why had he shoved the photo in this dusty bookcase, out of sight and out of mind? Well if he didn't want the photograph she would keep it. A souvenir.
'You promise you won't show it to anyone.'
'I'm not keeping it. You are Clark, it's to spur you on to want to change your life for the better.'
And he really needed to. Clark was too often lost in his own world. A world filled with pain, loss and regret. Seeing the sadness in his eyes – she always had been a sucker for lost strays. Was that why she was so keen to drag him out of his self-imposed exile?
He never had been much of a conversationalist. Even when he sometimes came out with Chloe and herself during the summer holidays, he was often quiet. One time they had gone to the lake, and much to her astonishment he sat on the sand, reading, of all things.
'You know what you need, Smallville?' she piped up, as she wrung the water from her hair.
How he bristled at that name, which is why she continued to call him by it. He glared at her. "And what would that be, Lois?"
She was strangely drawn to teasing him. Not that that was unusual for her but when it came to Clark she really couldn't help herself.
"Fun. You remember what that is?"
He shoot her a sardonic glare. 'I know what fun is.'
She merely snorted. 'Sure looks that way.'
It was about time Clark got active, and snapped out his tendency to mope.
'You need to get your head out of books and doing some kind of physical activity. God knows you need it.'
His jaw clenched. She grinned at him and yanked the book out of his hands.
'I have just the thing.'
'Lois,' he protested, scrambling to his feet.
She stepped back, book in hand, waving it at him. He looked flushed and flustered. Smallville really wasn't used to having girls telling him what to do. Riling him up at least got a reaction from his usual calm demeanour.
'You're coming boating with me and Chloe.'
Her eyes scanned over his jeans. Really – on a hot day like this he was wearing jeans. What was with that? At least the white t-shirt was an improvement over the plaid shirts.
'Grab your swimming trunks, Clark,' she continued.
His face reddened. 'I-I don't have any.'
Her mouth dropped open, he what? Seriously? Why? Was he too self-conscious? So he carried a bit of extra weight but it was hardly that bad, and if there was one thing she had learned about him over the last couple of weeks is that he wasn't at all remotely vain.
'You can't swim?'
His face went a deeper shade of red. 'I can swim.'
'Then what's the problem, Clark?'
He bristled at those words. 'I don't have to explain myself to you.'
Whoa, he really was touchy about this matter. She shrugged. 'Suit yourself, besides you don't need swimming trunks to row a boat.'
Before he had the chance to protest, she grabbed him by the arm, dragging him towards the jetty.
'Hey Chloe,' she called, when the petite blonde came in sight, 'Clark's offered to row the boat.'
Poor Clarkie. He was beginning to work up a sweat, Lois observed, as she idly lay back on the rickety old boat, watching him.
Once they returned to the jetty Lois couldn't help but to push him off it. He landed in the water with a resounding splash. His head bobbed up, and the look on his face was priceless. But then a stab of guilt hit her. Maybe she had pushed him too far. She was sure he was beginning to develop a strong disliking towards her.
'Lois!' Chloe gasped beside her.
'Sorry Smallville, just that you looked so hot and bothered.'
He swam to the ladder. She leant over to offer him a hand. Before she had a chance to respond, he grabbed her hand and pulled hard. She went flying over the edge, straight into the water. She came up gasping for air, shocked and surprised. Guess she had underestimated Clark after all.
He smiled down at her from atop the jetty. "Now were even." What shocked her even more was just how boyish that grin was. It changed the whole countenance of his face.
Okay, so maybe Smallville wasn't so ordinary after all.
She didn't know why she had offered to train him? What the appeal was? But some inner part of her must have been attracted to him from the get go, now that she thought more about it.
Pocketing the photo in her jeans, Lois moved onto the dressing table. She could just picture Clark's face at the sight of her lacy bra's scattered there, followed by another unwanted image of his large hands touching her breasts, wearing said bra's.
"Get a grip, Lois," she muttered and hastily shoved the bras into a bag. Heat suffixed her face.
She really had to stop fantasying about him. Clark was as pure as driven snow and she – well she wasn't. Clark was different, special in a way that nobody else was. Not that she could put her finger on to why that was?
Shaking her head, she continued tidying up the dressing table when she came across his story, the one about the alien boy. She had forgotten all about it. It was written on a tattered piece of paper. She couldn't recall him writing anything more on it of late. Then an idea took hold. She would buy him a journal for his birthday. His birthday was only a couple of days away. And he really should keep this story in a safer place. Picking it up, she noticed another, just as equally tattered, piece of a paper. Only this one had no writing on it, instead it was full of strange symbols. At the bottom of the page there was a sketch of what looked to be a sleek, small spaceship. Who knew Clark was so imaginative? But the symbols – what were they? A cold chill crept down her spine. It was probably nothing.
Lois picked up the story again and read through it. The last few lines moved her once again.
Suddenly I'm cut off from the world I know. Encased in darkness, bereft and alone, my silent cries the only sound. The humming of the space ship lured me into a deep sleep. My tears dried on my cheeks as the ship hurtled to a far distant planet called earth. A place that would become my home, the only home I would ever know.
She went strangely still as a thought took hold. What if it wasn't a story?
"Don't be absurd, Lois," she chided.
Of course it was a story. It had to be. But then it did explain some things. Like the night Pete brought him back to the farm when he was drunk.
'He's been saying some crazy stuff.'
'Like what?'
'He's an alien from another planet.'
She had thought his drink might have been spiked. But what if it wasn't? What if … Clark really was the boy in the story?
And the story was true.
The tattered pieces of paper fluttered from her hand. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears.
'He was trying to protect me – I couldn't save him – You don't understand, Lois – I'm not from here.'
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. It can't be. He looked just like everybody else.
This was ludicrous. Her mind was playing tricks on her – because there was no way Clark could be … She swallowed, her throat going dry; an Alien?
"Lois?" a voice spoke from the doorway.
She jumped startled and gazed straight into Clark's face. She hadn't even heard the car pull up? So lost she had been in her crazy thoughts.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking concerned.
She swallowed, again. "Of course, just that you startled me."
Smiling, she walked over to him, her eyes drinking in the sight of him. His tousled hair, that enticed her to run her hands through it. The hesitant smile on his face, the questions in those beautiful eyes of his. Damn it. And just great, she was falling in love with not just a farm boy, but quite possibly an alien too.
Before she had a chance to say anything more, Clark wrapped her up in an incredibly warm embrace. Lois sighed, closed her eyes and wove her arms around him. So what if he was possibly an alien. It was still Clark. The night in the barn when he told her the story came back to mind.
She watched, mesmerised as he explained the story of a young boy who thought he was human but soon realised he was different from other kids. A boy that strangely touched her heart. She knew what it felt like to be different.
He was warm. He had a heart, the biggest heart of all. He was Smallville. Special, kind, different and amazing. If he had a secret it wasn't hers to tell. She would protect him no matter what. And when the right moment came along, maybe he would trust her enough to tell her who he really was.
.
.
.
A/N: Thanks for reading. I do apologise for any errors in advance, because it had been so long since I last updated I just wanted to get this out there to all my readers. I still don't think it's as good as what I would like, but I just wanted to reassure you all that I definitely plan on finishing this story and you will just have to bear with me as I get through this rather difficult time.
Reviews are always loved and appreciated, probably even more so than usual given my week from hell :)
.
