-- Chapter 5 -- Running Away --

Clark headed into the sunset. Literally, running away from the barn and Pete's attempt to help. He ran toward that fat red orb, half-blind from its light and just tried not to think about any of it. It took a lot of concentration to go this fast. You had to watch out for all the little obstacles. With this much momentum you really had to be thinking at least a hundred steps ahead all the time. This is why I like to run, whatever anyone tries to tell me. I like it because I'm free. No one can see me, and I can't spare the attention to really think or hurt.

There was a fence ahead blocking his perfect line into the sunset, and Clark came to a skidding halt. He wrapped his hands around the black wrought iron and squeezed the metal until it squirted up between his fingers like clay. There was a stab of agony though his brain like he hadn't felt since first arriving on Earth, and Clark found himself in a memory. He watched himself squeeze though those bars and make a hesitant trek up the hill on the other side. There were keys weighing down his pocket, a truck he had to return.

Just as suddenly as it began, the memory ended. Why did the memories always come like that, without warning, and why did they always stop so short of anything substantial? Clark squeezed through the bars and headed up the hill. It was almost like following a ghost's footsteps. Who had that Clark been visiting? Who lived inside this fenced area?

There was a house ahead beyond the tree line. Pale stone and arches like some medieval castle, the house didn't belong in rural Kansas. Even from his limited experience and memories, Clark could tell that much. His parents had kept him close all summer. They could hardly stand it if he left the farm at all, much less alone. They would most definitely not approve of his race across the countryside or an excursion to a stranger's house. At that moment, Clark couldn't care less what his parent's would or wouldn't approve of. They approved of Pete and his attack, but they didn't approve of Lola or their broken son. Well, forget their rules and smothering protection. Clark embraced his curiosity and walked right up to the front door. Without hesitating, he rang the bell.

It wasn't until the door opened and he was faced with a completely unfamiliar woman, that Clark regretted his impulsive decision. What would these people think of some stranger at their door? Or worse, what if he knew these people and they thought he'd intentionally come for a visit?

"Mr. Kent, it's been such a long time. I know Lex will be glad you stopped by. Please come in," the woman said.

Lex lived here then? That actually made sense. From what he'd been able to gather from his parents, Lex was a wealthy-powerful type. He was also supposed to be a close friend. Clark mentally snorted. As far as he was concerned, Lex was just another stranger who hadn't come around all summer. Heck, he'd seen more of Pete. "You know, I was just out wandering the countryside. Please don't bother Lex. I should get going."

"Oh no you don't. If I let you leave, I'll lose this job, and I need it. Come on in, and let me get Lex."

Stepping off her bus and back into the sticks she'd left behind, Chloe didn't even stop to sigh over the fields of corn or the obligatory cows in the distance. She was entirely too late to have a chance at stopping Pete from making things worse with Clark. If the stupid bus hadn't broken down outside Biggersville, there would have been a chance. With one final disgusted look at the run-down old bus, Chloe started locating her bags.

It was kind of weird when you thought about it, her being the one who really understood Clark and his secrets. That was sort of Pete's job, minus the knowing all his secrets. She hadn't arrived in Smallville until well after the age where most of those tight pseudo-sibling bonds were formed. In junior high, the boys had glomped-her-up to use Pete's own words. They were all close, but some bonds are like apples and oranges. They just aren't comparable. Maybe it was that one degree of separation that made this easier on her than it was on Pete or the Kents.

When she caught sight of her dad, Chloe couldn't help bursting into a grin. She hadn't seen him in three months, but he was exactly the same. His cheeks and nose were red like he'd been mowing the lawn without sunscreen again, and he was still sporting a jumpsuit from the plant. "Dad!" Chloe threw her arms around him and squeezed tight. "I missed you so much." She pointed to her nose and frowned. "You promised to wear the sunscreen."

Gabe just laughed. "That Coppertone stuff smells horrible. Now point me to your bags. Dinner is getting stone cold at home. The bus was pretty late."

Chloe loaded her dad up with three bags and shouldered her other two. Could damage control wait until tomorrow? Clark seemed pretty upset and taunt, almost like he might snap in his last e-mail. Poor Pete wouldn't know what hit him. Don't take this the wrong way, Dad. "About dinner, do you think it would be okay if I made a quick run over to a friend's house? It's a minor emergency."

"You're back two minutes and the emergencies are already starting. I'll give you a ride, okay?" The look on his daughter's face made him want to sigh. She was really a teenager, and she was really embarrassed by her old man. "Or you could drop me off at home and take the car."

"Have I ever told you how great you are? Thanks," Chloe said. She tossed her bags into the back seat and hugged her dad again. "I'll be fifteen minutes, tops."

Inside the expensive shell of mahogany and silks that Lex called his personal office, two men sat across from each other with sifters of liquor. The psychic, Fisk, stared into his liberal portion of expensive amber piss, and wished he could run away from this place screaming. There was a teenager in Boston just starting college, who would regret it if he ran though. It wasn't just Lex's threat either. Ivy League tuition wasn't a joke, and he hadn't been able to work in months. There was too much terror inside him. Even now that it should be fading, and he should be sleeping, blue faced demons and an agony that wasn't his own still haunted him. He couldn't reach out with a gift that had been his lifelong power and weakness rolled into one. I have to move past this pain and that moment. I have to beat this. What better way to get over a phobia, than face it head on? Fisk downed his drink and grimaced as it burned its way down his gut. "So when exactly do I start?"

Lex shrugged and replaced his drink untouched. "It's hard to say. You see, I've been keeping my distance from Clark and his family for the time being, letting Jonathan and Martha have their safe little cocooned off existence. The doctors I've consulted seem to think a quiet, gradual reintroduction to his life is what's best for Clark." What bothers me about the Kents is that they aren't consulting the doctors. "When I do visit, it wouldn't be a great idea to show up with a psychic in tow. I'd like to put you on retainer for the time being, maybe set you up at Cadmus Labs until things start to progress."

The housekeeper, Mrs. Fisher, chose that moment to knock quietly before entering. "Mr. Luthor, you have a visitor."

"I asked not to be disturbed." A nervous looking Clark Kent was just visible over Mrs. Fisher's shoulder and Lex grinned. "Never mind, you did the right thing. Come on in Clark." Instead of bombarding him with questions about his memory or the summer, Lex had to force himself to be calm and non-threatening. The doctors he'd consulted didn't agree on many things, but they'd warned him about various triggers that could cause problems in your average amnesiac. Don't even ask about it. An amnesiac isn't going to keep his triumphs of memory recovery to himself. If you're thinking about it half the time, they're thinking about it all the time. As important as their memory is to you, it's infinitely more important to them. "This really is a pleasant surprise."

Stepping across the threshold into Lex's office, the austere museum air had Clark remembering his meeting with Kal-El in the overtly churchlike Over Council chamber. Everything had been so confused and desperate back there. Here on Earth, everything was in order and everyone was certain about him. It made him feel a touch silly for exploding at Pete. Clark dropped a hand to Lola and opened back up to her. I'm a complete child. Throwing tantrums and running off into the woods when someone tries to help me? What's wrong with me anyway?

You're just a touch frustrated, Lola replied gently. Anyone would be at this point.

Clark wasn't quite able to meet Lex's quizzical gaze, and he picked a spot on the wall to watch instead. "Sorry about this. I wandered here by accident. Ringing the bell was just curiosity. You were obviously in a meeting, and I won't keep you."

Maybe subconsciously, you were looking for a friend? "Don't be ridiculous. I'd like you to meet my associate, Mr. Fisk. He was just leaving anyway, weren't you Jon?" Lex wasn't sure whether Fisk would want to take this opportunity to touch and read Clark. It wasn't how he'd planned things to happen. He hadn't even been certain he would use Fisk. Lex smiled as Fisk came forward hand extended, but inside he could feel his heart contract painfully. This was a small betrayal, and it was only about the truth. The truth wasn't going to hurt Clark. The truth could only make things easier. It was a small thing, hardly worth agonizing over. Lex could hear his father's voice. Lie with the smile on your face. Never let them know what you're thinking. When they're looking at the smile, they'll hardly feel the knife slipping between their ribs. There was approval in that mental voice, and Lex almost let his smiling facade crack.

"Nice to meet you," Fisk said. He was sporting a smile as well, but his wasn't as charismatic or practiced as Lex's. If I can touch him, I can do anything. He survived the agony of it. He came out the other side. Show me how you survived.

Clark took Mr. Fisk's hand and wondered absently how Lex had scared this guy out of his mind. "Nice to meet you too." Fisk didn't linger over their handshake, but he seemed to calm down a bit after it. Once Fisk was gone and it was just the two of them, Clark felt acutely self conscious. He wasn't exactly prepared for this moment. His father had warned him over and over about how dangerous Luthors were and how he should be on his guard.

With Fisk's exit, Lex was able let go of his minor personal guilt trip and focus on the conversation at hand. "You look decidedly nervous there. Wait, let me guess. Your father told you not to trust me, not to talk to me, not to be alone with me. He probably told you I've been known to torture kittens and other small animals."

The way Lex casually hit on the source of his discomfort set him at ease and Clark couldn't help chuckling. I think I know why we were friends, Lola. He's smooth. "They didn't mention the kittens part, but I can't say that I'm surprised after all the other things they had to say. Seriously, they said we were friends and that you had helped them a lot..."...and don't trust you even a little, of course they never backed that up with much of anything.

"It doesn't mean much, does it, them telling you who your friends are when you can't remember it." Lex offered Clark his untouched drink. "I could tell you that this is the finest bourbon you're going to find on this continent, but you wouldn't have any appreciation for it until you tried it, and tried some of those lesser liquors as well."

Nice sentiment, but why is it you haven't dropped by once to visit your ailing friend? "I guess it's been a busy summer to be a multibillionaire, huh? I should probably get going before I take up any more of your time. Farm life is busy too, you know."

"Would you wait one second? I stayed away, because your parents wanted it that way. Trust me, you needed the time. Most of the doctors I consulted seemed to think the quiet route was the best path to letting you adjust to being home. Your arrival here seems to say, you're ready for more." Since Clark hadn't taken the drink, Lex tossed it back, letting the fiery liquid linger in his mouth before swallowing it down. "So, what do you expect from me? I'm still your friend from my point of view. I understand if you don't particularly agree."

"I appreciate you asking about my opinion. Everyone is an expert on my point of view these days." Clark finally looked Lex in the eye and he had a hard time believing his father's stern warnings. He seemed so sincere. "I think we could be friends again. I need all the friends I can get. Now, I really should get home. The folks are a little overprotective at the moment."

"Feel free to stop by any time." Clark disappeared through the thick office doors, and sealed Lex in with his thoughts. "And so it begins again," Lex whispered. He walked back over to the bar across the room and poured another drink. Holding it up to the door Clark exited through, he made a toast. "To Smallville and her secrets, to Clark and his missing memory, to the Eradicator wherever that psychotic bitch ended up, may she never find her way back, oh, and most importantly to Jon Fisk, may he see it all and set my mind at ease." Lex drank the liquor down without savoring the flavor. He wasn't drinking for pleasure at the moment. This was about quieting the voices inside, his father and his conscience, warring internal demons alternately praising and decrying his every decision. Hand still steady, he poured another drink.

Chloe stepped out of her car into the thick late afternoon heat and patted Pete's car on her way to the Kent barn. Clark was probably in there suffering through Pete's presentation like the good guy that he was. Her heart seemed to speed up a notch every step she took. It was just Clark. They were just friends. One hand pressed against the door, Chloe snorted at her denials. Who am I kidding?

The fading afternoon light cast the barn in soft reds and oranges. Chloe's eyes strayed up to Clark's lookout spot, but it wasn't her alien-farm-boy watching the sun set. Lana and Pete were chatting and laughing like old friends. A couple of garbage sacks and wads of crumpled paper were all that remained of the This-Is-Your-Life extravaganza. Where could Clark have gone already, and why was Lana here? "Hey guys, did I miss the party?"

Pete spun around and grinned down at her. "You have no idea. It's good to see you girl."

Clark had told Chloe that he could run pretty fast over e-mail, but Pete showed off his own speed, running down and enveloping her in a hug. Over his shoulder, Chloe just caught Lana's always graceful wave. The prom queen ought to have plenty of practice at waving from above. "Well, what did Clark think?" Chloe asked.

Pete backed off and exchanged an uncomfortable look with Lana. "It didn't go exactly as planned."

"Yeah, it was pretty ugly. Clark sort of stormed off," Lana said. "He didn't even get to Pete's grand finale, a blind date with the one and only me."

Chloe heard the sarcasm in the comment, but she didn't laugh or share in Lana's friendly grin. "Wow Pete," Chloe said. "When you were e-mailing me about this little production, you never mentioned the grand finale. It must have slipped your mind."

The formerly warm friendly smile on Chloe's face shifted to a cooler more cynical place, and Pete winced visibly. "Don't be mad, Chloe..."

"I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?" I just thought you were my friend, that's all. To think I could be having dinner with my dad, who I haven't seen in three months, but instead I come here to try and help you, buddy. Chloe held in her angry words and just let Pete think whatever he wanted. If Clark never spoke to him again, it would serve the Benedict Arnold right. He knew how she felt for God's sake. "I just wanted to say hi to everybody. So looks like clean-up went well. What exactly are you two waiting around for?"

Uh oh, Pete groaned to himself. That tone spelled trouble. Chloe hadn't used that voice with him since the eighth grade when he borrowed her computer to check his e-mail and accidentally deleted her application for editor of the Torch. "We're waiting for Clark. I wanted to apologize for messing this all up." If Lana wasn't standing over his shoulder, Pete would have gladly thrown himself on Chloe's mercy, but further exacerbating his crimes by exposing her feelings for Clark to the number one rival wasn't going to help him.

"I was staying for moral support," Lana said. She hadn't missed the silent storm that had sprung up between Chloe and Pete. A third wheel was obviously inhibiting their ability to vent, and venting was the best way to handle little blowups. "Heading home would probably be the thing to do right now. You guys should do some catching up. Thanks for an interesting evening, Pete."

"I'd say let's do it again some time, but let's not," Pete said. Thank God Lana has enough sense to flee a boiling Chloe.

Waiting until Lana was out the door, Chloe abandoned her smile altogether. "I don't think we really have much to say to each other. My dad's waiting for me with ever colder tacos, so I'll see you at school next week. Don't bother with the ride you offered. I'd rather take the bus."

"Chloe, I didn't tell you about the finale, because I didn't want to hurt you. This stupid thing was about making Clark remember something, and what did the Clark we know and love obsess about consistently? I thought a date with Lana might wake something up in him, you know? He's so mad at me Chloe, and I don't think I can take it if you're mad at me too. I'm sorry."

"You're just going to have to deal with it. I'm not happy, Pete. You and I are friends. You are the only person in the world that knows how I feel about Clark. I just don't know what you were thinking. Were you thinking?" Chloe felt some of the anger in her cooling in the face of Pete's deflated, sad expression. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone. He just wanted to help Clark. Why did all her friends have to be so noble all the time? It was impossible to stay mad at anyone. "You're really having a bad day, aren't you? Tell you what, I'll make a deal. You refrain from fixing Clark up with anyone, except maybe me, and I'll forget...forgive the almost hook-up you tried today. Deal?"

"I thought I was going to brave sophomore year solo there for a second." Pete took a seat on one of the flat pieces of farm equipment and sighed. "I wanted to pull a Clark Kent and save the day, but all I ever do is screw it up."

Chloe joined Pete on his dusty seat and casually bumped his shoulder with her own, all her anger forgotten for the moment. "When did you start trying to do that anyway, save the day I mean? Don't think I didn't notice. You did it for Clark, right? I sort of knew you were doing it for him. I guess I'm trying to say, you don't have to try to be Clark anymore. You're better at being Pete."