season 3 kickoff. enjoy!

Chapter 25

Having collected the final stone, the Eradicator drone soared through the clouds toward the Kewatche caves at a fraction of its capable cruising speed, limited by the fragility of its current biological host. Even with the augmentation matrix, its current host continued to steadily deteriorate.

A necessary consequence of this primitive being's faulty construction.

However, its current host did possess certain advantages. After locating the final stone in China, for example, its physiology shielded the drone program from the irradiated kryptonite that protected the stone. Councilor Var-el had originally hidden the archives on this backwater world and encased them with irradiated Kryptonite to protect the stones from rebel factions – especially from the House of El's most dangerous political rival, the House of Zod.

Arriving at the caves, the drone opened the hidden aperture and approached the teleport panel where the other two stones it had collected earlier already rested. Using the orientation disk – what the humans called the "octagonal" disk – was unnecessary since the drone had already downloaded all the necessary access protocols.

Calmly placing the final stone in its proper slot, the drone watched dispassionately as the unified crystal initialized its activation sequence and teleported the drone to the designated target location in the planet's polar region. Upon reaching its destination, the drone then hurled the crystal toward the horizon, which landed with a dull thud on a distant snow bank.

Moments later, the ground shook violently as the majestic crystalline spires of a Kryptonian Archives Temple erupted from the icy ground, fearlessly stretching toward the heavens above like a home-sick angel as sea otters, polar bears, and caribou desperately scrambled in fear from the awesome sight.

Speeding into the temple, the drone activated the central A.I. and dumped the contents of its entire memory core into the great machine before awaiting further instructions...

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Clark Kent punched his fist into the ATM machine, letting money pool into the bag in his hands. He waved to the camera, his face obstructed by the mask he wore. He knew they'd never catch him, even if they did find out who he was. They were all just puny humans and he – wasn't.

Chuckling as he spotted a red corvette, he pulled off the black facemask and tossed it to the floor. He crossed over to the car and forced the door open with brute force, smirking with satisfaction when the lock snapped open without resistance.

He distractedly marveled as to why nearly everyone always left an extra key set in the bottom compartment. How stupid could you be, practically begging somebody to come along and steal your car? A poster on a tree caught his eye and he glanced at it. It was a picture of Leo Luthor with the words 'Missing' stamped along the bottom.

Gunning the engine down the streets of Metropolis, he barely regarded the ant-like people bustling along the sidewalks with indifference; it was both a blessing and a curse bestowed upon him by the red kryptonite stone in his class ring.

His blessing was that he couldn't feel any of the emotions that had strangled him in Smallville when he realized what damage his actions had caused. He was free of the pain, the guilt, the debilitating sadness.

His curse was that he could not feel any of the emotions that could set him free from that torment. Instead of happiness he could feel only pleasure, instead of pride only satisfaction, and instead of love he could feel only lust.

Through the haze of his apathy, he could feel the opposing forces driving him constantly. The rush and excitement of the kryptonite urged him on while the dwindling voice of his true self held him back. This duality meant he was never truly free. He could steal money but never hurt anyone doing it; he would begin every night with a beautiful girl on his arm but end every one alone.

It's all worth it though.

Anything was worth not having to feel the mind-numbing flood of emotion that hit him when he removed the ring. Those brief windows into the guilt and anguish he left behind were enough to make him slide it back on, no matter how painful the searing agony of his scar was. The scar was flaring up more often now and each time was worse than the last, but he would endure it again and again, preferring the pain of his flesh to the pain of his guilt.

Speaking of flesh…

He curved his lips into a ghost of a smile when he spotted a group of young women – particularly a vivacious blonde in a strapless red number on the sidewalk ahead. His grin widened wolfishly. "Hey gorgeous. I'm headin' to Club Ecstasy. Care for a ride?"

The blonde nodded eagerly, eyeing his new car as she slid in.

Meanwhile, Clark's x-ray vision was eyeing something else.

One of the girl's homelier companions squawked loudly. "Are you out of your mind? That guy could be a serial killer!"

The sleek blonde threw her friend a sardonic grin. "If he is, at least I'll get a sweet ride to the after life."

Gunning the throttle as he tore away from the curb, Clark hardly bothered glancing at her again once he got his initial eyeful. "So, I'm Kal. You?"

"Janica." She ran her fingers over the leather seat. "Leather, yum…"

He chuckled, pulling up in front of the club and turning off the engine.

"Yeah." He pushed open the door and climbed out, ignoring the buzz that rose from the throngs outside the Club when people recognized him. In the last few weeks, he'd managed to make quite a name for himself.

"Nice car, Kal!" the valet complimented.

Clark grinned vacuously, detached. "Like it?" The man nodded and Clark tossed him the keys. "Keep it – it bores me."

"Wow, you're so nice!" Janica breathed out, realizing that this meant he was probably loaded.

"Yeah." Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Why don't you go grab us a table? Drinks are on me." Grinning happily, the blonde walked away and he made his way over to the bar. He really had no intent on ever seeing her again.

"A particularly pretty number today, huh?" Jared, the bartender, winked at him.

Clark shrugged flippantly. "I hadn't noticed."

Jared nodded, handing him an iced margarita. "What is it with you, Kal? New girl in here every night, but you always leave alone."

Clark shrugged, scanning the crowd. "Women are just generally – "

He choked abruptly as he spotted a familiar figure from across the dance floor, hope flaring…

No. His mood crashed just as suddenly. As the blinking strobe light halted its blinking, he got a better look at her – a thin, scantily clad brunette arguing heatedly with some sleazy guy with a neatly trimmed goatee. Still, Clark couldn't tear his eyes from her. Her posture and skin had a familiar glow - even though she was a total stranger, couldn't help feeling oddly drawn to her

If her hair were red and her skin were lighter… "Who is that?"

Clark felt the world freeze.

People milled around, walking by, women pressing their bodies up against his; some others blocking his gaze on her. Clark simply moved; it seemed to him as if she were the only person in the club. The swirling club lights, the bowel-loosening base of the music, the oppressive stench of cigarettes and marijuana mixing with the sickly sweet scent of alcohol and sweat – all the tawdry grime of sin and desperation around them fell away.

"That's Loi...ane," Jared answered, the music drowning out several syllables. "Comes here...army brat...Claude's arm candy."

"Arm candy…" the thought of somebody using her like that made him want to punch something.

Jared's whistle broke his reverie. "Looks like some girl's finally caught your eye, Kal." Ignoring the bartender, Clark weaved his way around the other people in the nightclub, making his way over to the table where she sat.

He wasn't sure how or why, but he felt oddly drawn to her. Even thinking about Leo was still too painful, and this girl was the first thing to ignite anything inside him since arriving in Metropolis. He wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to someone, and somehow, he just sensed she would listen...

Clark never made it to her table. A searing pain, a sledgehammer smashing his skull and a million paper cuts slitting his brain, nearly brought him to his knees. He ignored the curses and dirty looks as he blindly stumbled out of the club's rear entrance, crumbling to his knees in agony in the rear alley.

He tried slipping off the ring, but something was wrong – the pain still didn't stop!

And the pain wasn't coming from his chest. It was coming from something else, calling him toward something. He couldn't explain it, but the blinding torture seemed to be perversely attracting him to its source. Instinctively knowing that his agony could only be relieved by finding its source, he sped northward, leaving only a sonic boom in his wake.

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He didn't stop until the searing pain in his skull stopped. Looking around his surroundings, it looked like he had run all the way to the end of the world; an endless expanse of snow-covered plains, hills, mountains...

Or maybe not a mountain. His eyes rested on a...structure, over forty stories tall. At first, he mistook its jagged lines to be a mountain, but then he noticed artificial lights glowing from inside of it. While the pain had subsided, he could still sense something drawing him towards it, beckoning him.

When he first entered the massive crystalline entrance hall, the first thing he was aware of was a dull roaring sound. The next was the column of light rising before him and seeming to climb into infinity; glowing streams of fractal patterns flowing up from the center of a chamber so vast he could not see its top.

How is this possible? The building is tall, but not that tall. Where am I? What is this place?

As his eyes rose higher and higher, he became aware of the shapes looming over him. Gigantic robed statues over thirty feet in height towered over him to either side, supporting a massive, pock-marked sphere easily thirty feet across directly above him; a representation of what could only be Krypton.

As Clark spun around in place for a better look, he was able to get a better look at the chamber's edge. At last, he found the source of the rumbling roar: a waterfall, a hundred feet tall, tumbled down the wall behind him, gathering in a massive pool at its base. The walls, which looked like silvery multifaceted crystal, seemed to glow with a soft internal light.

As he followed it along, he was able to make out the roughly circular shape of a chamber large enough to hold a football field. Three more waterfalls and their pools, each at one of the cardinal points relative to the first, lined the edges of the chamber. Almost lost amidst the sheer vastness of it all were gaps in the walls that could only be passageways to other chambers.

As Clark gaped at the sheer splendor of his alien surroundings, he suddenly saw something horrifically out of place.

No. Clark's gut clenched as he quietly confirmed his worst fears:

A skeletally gaunt Leo, clad only in a faded and tattered hospital gown, stood at rigid attention beside the crystal-control console-table thing in front of him. Her face was stone still, her eyes reduced to uniform, unblinking white orbs staring off into infinity. Between her bald head and the sharp angles of her spaghetti arms and protruding collar bones, she looked more like a Holocaust survivor than the beautiful, vibrant woman he had known…and loved.

"Kal-El, you have come far," a disembodied voice echoed loudly. "One journey has ended. A new journey is about to begin. Welcome, my son."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER!"

In a fit of rage, Clark hurled himself angrily at the control panel from which the voice seemed to be coming. Consumed in blind fury, all he wanted to do was smash it to pieces, to tear down this entire monstrous nightmare down stone by stone with his bare hands…

But before he moved two steps, a blinding blue light descended from the ceiling and encircled Clark in a confinement beam.

This only enraged Clark further, but he was powerless to do anything about it – he couldn't move a muscle, couldn't even blink an eye.

Suddenly, the red kryptonite in his class ring flared and became clear, having been drained of all its radiation.

Overwhelming exhaustion swept over him as the pain in his chest flared and burned. He cried out, cursing it. Slowly, it dwindled and dissipated. He breathed hard, blinking back tears, belatedly realizing that the scar was gone from his chest. As his eyes ran down over the smooth skin, he wondered for a moment if he had simply dreamed every moment of the past few weeks.

Then he noticed his surroundings again.

"There is much you must still learn before you are able to fulfill your destiny: to preserve Krypton and save this planet. This is a decision you must embrace voluntarily."

His mind still reeling as he tried to process all this, Clark exclaimed, "I thought Krypton was destroyed!"

"It was, but here – in your Fortress of Solitude – the geography of our planet has been replicated for your training."

"I don't have time for this! What have you done to Leo? Why are you hurting her?"

"The biological host for the drone program is of no consequence. Its functionality is no longer required."

With that, Leo's body immediately collapsed into a heap, like a puppet after its strings were cut.

"The meteor shower which brought you to Earth was only the precursor. The universe is filled with wonders to delight the imagination and terrors to freeze the soul, but you are not yet ready to comprehend all that it has to offer. Nor are you yet ready to fulfill your destiny."

"What do you want from me?"

The blue light encircling Clark suddenly intensified as his mind was flooded by a torrent of images and symbols.

"You must do as I instruct. Study with diligence, for that is the only way to preserve the knowledge of Krypton and save your adopted planet…"

While Clark was encased in the blue confinement beam, Leo groggily clawed her way back to consciousness, trying to make sense of her strange new surroundings. Am I dead? Is this heaven?

A gust of wind slapped her all the way awake as her eyes struggled to focus. She shivered violently as her teeth chattered. Well, unless pigs can fly, at least it's too cold to be hell.

Then she caught sight of Clark, surrounded in a cell of blinding bluish-white light. She tried to get up and walk towards him, but her limbs refused to respond. She could barely wrap her arms around herself as she shivered frantically.

"Clark!" Flushed with fever, Leo forced herself to make a second effort, digging her hands hard into the snow-covered ground, struggling to her feet on wobbly knees, limping, gasping, fighting blurred eyesight and a foggy, thunderous pain in her head as she doggedly trudged toward him – before collapsing on the ground again.

Visions, symbols, and images still flooding Clark's mind and senses, he barely managed to hear her.

"Clark, c-can you hear me? Clark!" she gasped, her voice was rasping and weak. Frost began accumulating on her skin as she lost all feeling in her extremities, too weak to move. Too much flesh had melted from her bones over the past few weeks. While the drone had sustained itself with solar power, it had not bothered to nourish Leo's body with the food, water, and sleep her body required. Though the drone's augmentation matrix partially maintained her body with converted solar energy, it could only do so much. Her skull now pushed out through the skin of her face, as if her trapped consciousness had tried to claw its way out of the prison of its own body…

The visions around Clark dissipated as the confinement beam disengaged and he saw Leo.

Clark momentarily averted his gaze – he didn't want Leo to see the tears stinging his eyes. My fault, all my fault…

'Shut up and focus! Leo needs you now!' he snapped at himself. In a Luthor-like moment of self-discipline, Clark brutally suppressed his own crushing guilt and fear and rushed to her side, carefully bundling Leo's emaciated body into his arms like the most treasured jewel in the universe. "Leo," he sighed sadly.

"Kal-El, you must continue your education. You cannot stop."

Clark's face contorted in rage at the crystalline control panel, where the disembodied voice seemed to come from. "She needs help!"

"Your destiny is far greater than saving one human life."

"I won't let her die!" Clark yelled angrily.

"Each time you let human emotions guide you, the fate of the entire planet is at risk. That is your weakness, Kal-El."

Clark swallowed the lump of sullen, bitter hatred that pooled in his throat. If he defied his biological father now, Jor-el might imprison him in that energy beam again and Leo would die right here in his arms. "Please! I'm begging you."

As Leo shivered, Clark's fingers and arms unconsciously tightened around her protectively. He didn't care if he had to grovel – he had to get Leo to safety, and he had to do it now.

"Very well – under one condition. You will return to me before the yellow sun has set."

Clark released a breath of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I'll be back. I promise."

"Do not fail me, Kal-El, for the consequences will be grave."

Clark nodded solemnly. "You have my word."

Turning his attention back to Leo, he noticed her snuggling closer to his chest, nestling in his warmth. Even semi-conscious, Leo drank in the feel of him like water, like she was dying of thirst. She though maybe she could never get enough. She could feel the current of energy surging through him, a current of relief and optimism that immediately put her at ease. Like a drowning woman, she clung to him for dear life, unwilling to let the sensation go. "Take me home, Clark," she croaked weakly.

Clark smiled down on her gently. Bundling her carefully in his arms, he shot out of the Fortress in the blink of an eye, heading south.

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Leo awoke in an unfamiliar bed.

Her head hurt; her neck hurt; her limbs were sore, and she was not alone. There was a startlingly huge arm cradling her aching head against an impossibly broad chest. An enormous hand rested on her hip. Someone's warm breath snuffled in and out against her ear.

She vaguely recalled approaching Clark's ship, a flash, a big bright room. She recalled Clark's face, but she wasn't sure if that was a dream or reality. She certainly had no memory of how she got here – some sort of hospital room, but past experience indicated that it wasn't Smallville Medical or Metropolis General.

Then she noticed an unaccustomed draft on her scalp.

Leo reached for the top of her head, horror gripping her when a conspicuous part of what she usually found there was completely absent.

When she did find something, it was disquietingly smooth.

Oh my god, I'm disfigured! Will it grow back? What else is wrong with me? I need a mirror!

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Awoken by the jostling beside him, Clark yawned widely. Between the hellish emptiness of the past several weeks and his panic as he rushed Leo to the first hospital he could find, he finally crashed once he brought her to safety. He technically wasn't supposed to be here, but he snuck back in after visiting hours to make sure Leo was alright. He had planted himself in the chair beside her and held her hand, reassured by the feel of her skin and the steady pulse in her wrist.

But when he tried to pull away from her to return to the Fortress, her little hand suddenly tightened around his in her sleep. How could he leave her after that? She's lying unconscious in some frontier hospital in the middle of the Yukon!

So, he resolved to stay with her, regardless of the cost. This was his responsibility, his fault. Jor-el can do whatever he wants to me, but I need to make sure she's okay.

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Leo rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. She winced as she nearly tore off the intravenous needle planted in her arm. The room started spinning as her head pounded ferociously.

"Leo, are you okay?" Clark asked. Despite his drowsiness, his face radiated concern, his hair messy and his club clothes from Metropolis rumpled.

Still disoriented, Leo didn't turn around to face him, still shaking off her residual dizziness and self-conscious about her appearance. "Clark? What's going on?"

Clark's drowsiness cleared up instantly as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. Where do I start? "What do you remember last?"

Now it was Leo's turn to squirm. She sat for a minute without looking at him, steadying both her mind and her body. "After you showed me the scar on your chest, I blew up the ship…" Leo trailed off when she felt Clark sit up behind her.

"Leo! What were you thinking? The crater on the farm was over thirty feet wide! You could've been killed!"

"I didn't use explosives," she pouted defensively. "Just some kryptonite." She purposely left out the part about fashioning a "kryptonite key." No need to upset him any more than necessary. Besides, she genuinely didn't remember much else beyond that.

Meanwhile, Clark was reeling. This is all my fault. He never should have told her anything! He might as well have strapped a case of dynamite to her chest and lit the fuse. "I'm so sorry," he apologized in a small voice.

Leo turned around to look at him curiously. "What are you apologizing for? What happened…and what are you wearing?" She silently chastised herself not noticing earlier – must be this migraine. Although badly rumpled and slept-in, Clark was wearing a silk shirt, tailored slacks, and Italian leather loafers that probably cost more than Jonathan Kent had in his savings account.

Clark shrank into himself in shame; he couldn't look her in the eye. "After the incident, I sort of ran away." Hanging his head, he confessed, "I swiped a class ring and ran away to Metropolis. I robbed banks, stole cars, knocked over department stores..." It wasn't until that moment he realized the enormity of what he had done. That wasn't how his parents raised him! Clark just wanted to sink into the deepest hole he could find and never come out again…

Ordinarily, Leo would have been more reassuring, but she was busy clamping down on her own emerging panic. I must be hideously disfigured from the explosion – why else would Clark be shying away from me like that?

"I need a mirror," Leo said urgently.

Clark clenched his jaw, a wave of soul-crushing guilt squeezing his chest. "Leo, you look fine. It's barely noticeable."

Leo glared severely at him. "I wasn't asking. Give me a mirror." She saw how Clark dressed – she preferred to make her own aesthetic evaluation, thank you very much.

With guilt cloying every move, Clark reluctantly handed her one. He had anticipated her demand and had one ready.

Despite bracing herself for the worst, Leo couldn't help wincing a little. She nearly cried. The complete and utter lack of hair made her look eerily like her mother during her last bout of chemotherapy. At twenty-three, Leo wasn't at all ready for that.

"It's…different," Leo shuddered. No wonder Clark can't even look at me…

Even without hair, Clark thought Leo still looked beautiful, more like a goddess with perfect milky skin who existed beyond the mortal realm – if not for the unexpected look in her eyes. It was a desolate look, a look that spoke of loss and missed opportunities, of pain and humiliation. Of surrender. And I'm the reason that look is there...

No wonder she can't even look at me.

Gazing at her complexion, Leo noted she looked a lot older than her years – every flaw exposed, dark circles ringing her eyes…a hairless freak of nature. Her eyes began to sting. She sucked in a shuddering breath through her teeth – damnit, I can't let anyone see me like this. "Clark, I'd like to be alone now."

Hanging his head, Clark arose from her bedside and made for the door, just trying to run away, to run anywhere to get away from the choking lump in his throat. I'll go to the Fortress – best to run away, before I hurt anyone else. Forget Jor-el's stupid deadline – I've already missed it anyway.

Besides, what's the worst Jor-el could do now?

Taking a few steps from Leo's bedside, Clark stopped, expression falling into a frown.

He took a few more steps toward the door, jogging slightly until he neared the door, and he stopped again, frowning even deeper as he squinted his eyes intensely at the wall, confirming his suspicion.

His actions did not go unnoticed. "What is it?" Leo asked.

"My powers… their gone."

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"This is all her fault!"

"Dad, she was just doing what she thought was right."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, son. She had no business going near that ship, and now look what happened!"

Clark shook his head sadly. While he agreed with his dad's assessment, his dad still wasn't aware of all the facts – that Leo never would've been involved if I hadn't opened my big mouth. "She was only trying to stop Jor-El."

His parents both froze at the name. "What does he have to with this?" Martha asked.

Then Clark told them everything – the scar, the ultimatum, the Fortress, Jor-El's warning.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Jonathan exclaimed in exasperation.

Clark shrugged. "With all the trouble with the farm, I didn't want to worry you guys."

Martha touched his arm gingerly. "Clark, you're our son. You should have told us so we could deal with this as a family."

Taking his mother's words to heart, Clark looked at his parents hopefully. "Well, at least now we can put all that behind us. All I've ever wanted was to be normal. Now, finally, I am.

Jonathan looked at his son dubiously. "I don't think this adjustment is going to be quite as easy as you do, Clark."

"But that's why I'm lucky to have parents like you," Clark countered earnestly. "Every time I woke up and had a new ability, you were always there to help me adjust. This time is no different."

"It is different," Martha said urgently, worry creasing her face. "You can get hurt now; you're vulnerable."

Clark shrugged, his lips quirked in a small smile. "Isn't that what it means to be human?"

"I can't imagine Jor-El giving up on you that easy son," Jonathan warned.

"I broke my word to him. If losing my abilities is the consequence, then I think he's done with me," Clark said, trying to find the bright side. "Look, it's all in the past now. I'm ready to take a step to the future. Everything's going to be fine."

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"The FBI can have him in custody within the hour."

"You can't do that!"

"Can't I?" Lionel demanded. "Kidnapping is a federal offense, brainwashing not withstanding."

Leo bristled, angered that her father insisted on treating her like a feeble-minded idiot. She sat up straight in bed, trying to project an image of strength. "I told you: I was undergoing chemo at a clinic in Europe. Clark just tagged along for moral support."

Leo knew she was stretching the boundaries of credibility, but it was the best cover story she could concoct – she'd lost over a quarter of her body weight and all her hair over the last six weeks.

Lionel halted his agitated pacing in her private VIP suite at Metropolis General and swung towards her. "Do you honestly expect me to buy that fairy tale?" he asked incredulously. "Why weren't young Mr. Kent's parents aware of this little trip? You could very well be guilty of juvenile kidnapping!"

Leo kept her expression blank and smooth. "They won't press charges. Besides, I asked Clark to keep this quiet. I didn't want to be pestered by reporters. It's not my fault he interpreted my request so literally."

In a move calculated to elicit sympathy, she tugged at the silk scarf around her head, to remind him of her "illness."

"I want to see those medical records."

Leo made a show of frustration with a slightly exaggerated eye roll. "I wasn't aware I needed a doctor's note for the principal before I got treatment."

Lionel's expression suddenly softened, looking stricken. "Is it out of line for me to worry about you?"

"Oh, so now you finally give a damn," she said bitterly, "And all it took was a bout of cancer. Maybe if I get hit by a car, you'll show up to my birthday party next year." Even if her cover story was fake, Leo's eyes blazed with real fury.

Sidling up to Leo bed side, Lionel took her hands into his firmly, staring into her eyes with an intensity that took her by surprise. "Despite what you think of me, I've never stopped worrying about you."

Leo tried to cover her shock but wasn't entirely successful. His sudden sincerity and change of mood had occurred so abruptly that it through her off-guard. "I-I'm sorry dad," she murmured, her angry resolve crumbling. She was genuinely astonished at how much she meant it.

Lionel sat at her bedside and engulfed her in a warm hug.

To her own surprise, Leo found herself melting into his welcoming embrace, closing her eyes as she huddled eagerly in his warmth. Daddy…

"There, there." Lionel smoothed over her back lovingly. "Everything will be better now that you're back in the Luthorcorp family."

Leo's blood froze as her eyes snapped open. "What does that mean?"

Lionel chuckled good-naturedly as he drew back and caressed her cheek. "Now that Leocorp is a subsidiary partner, we'll be working together closer than ever – after you recover of course."

Leo's face flushed angrily, even though she kept her voice level. "You can't do that without my consent. I still own a controlling share of my company."

"A controlling share," Lionel repeated pointedly, as if she were a child. "But not a majority. When your company's stock plummeted in your absence, I purchased a chunk of it to prop up the stock price." Giving her a patronizing smile, he explained, "Gabe Sullivan did an admirable job running your little company during your absence, but investors quickly lose confidence in a company when the founder and CEO disappears without a trace for weeks at a time. I was only trying to help you."

Leo cursed silently. I should have expected this. After the Lucas incident, her father gave her back a majority stake in Leocorp in exchange for her silence. However, she was later forced to sell some of her shares in order to fund her pet projects concerning Clark and the kryptonite. As a result, she now only owned 40 of the stock. If dad buys a big enough share of the public stock…

"How much of it do you own now?"

He kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "There will be plenty of time to discuss business later sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine."

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As Leo fenced with her father, Clark returned to his chores on the farm since summer break still hadn't elapsed. Within a week, he soon came to appreciate what he had given up – not that he had any regrets. If giving up his powers was the price for saving Leo, he paid it gladly. Maybe now Jor-El will finally leave me alone.

When he drove back to the farmhouse after the feed store run, his hands blistered and his muscles aching, Clark noticed a large "Smallville Movers" truck parked beside the barn and drove toward it, eying it curiously.

What he failed to notice were the two men hiding in the shadows of the barn. One was a black man with a trim goatee. The other was a scraggly white man with a huge Celtic cross tattooed to the side of his face.

Neither man looked like a furniture mover.

Both men wore gleaming green bracelets on their wrists and guns in concealed holsters.

As Clark's truck approached, the black man quickly dialed a number on his cell phone. "We're picking up the package now," he said into the receiver.

Pause.

"We'll let you know as soon as we deliver it sir," he finished politely before hanging up. He checked the gun in his holster again, just to be sure.

Morgan Edge wasn't the kind of employer you wanted to let down.

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