Chapter 35
Clark stared at his hands. He was at the hospital, in the waiting room. His hands were bloody, dried streaks of red rust not letting him forget what had happened. The memories wouldn't stop. He could still smell the spilt coffee and the blood-
It took forever for the ambulances to arrive. It was typical irony that the cops got there first, then the first ambulance, but two fire trucks made it before the second white medical vehicle arrived.
Clark's hands were red before anyone got there. His shirt a bloody mess, wrapped around Whitney's leg. He remembered little things- how the blood was deep red coming from Whitney's leg, but bright cherry red on his chest. He had noticed neither color matched Lana's nails. How his chest hurt- it hurt to breathe. How Lex had gone around, giving orders, giving everyone something to do. Keeping them busy.
Clark sat in the hospital's plastic chair, absently wiping the rusty red from his fingers.
Beside him Lex sighed. "We can't go anything more here, Clark. I- Let's go home."
He gulped, stuttering out, "Whitney's still in surgery."
He turned, noticing that Lex was giving him an odd look. "Whitney's in Metropolis, they flew him in the helicopter, remember? Nell's driving Lana there. We don't know anyone who is in surgery here in Smallville, and your parents have left ten messages on my cell phone- they keep wanting to come here, but it's not a good idea. Let's go home."
Clark looked at Lex, and then turned his head. Squinted his eyes at the wall, focused- "No, it's Whitney. They're still working on his chest though."
Beside him Lex rose, yanking on Clark's shirt- the fresh one, the one he had left in Lex's trunk. Lex had taken one look at him and insisted he put it on. "Come on, we're going home."
"But-"
Lex cleared his throat, leaning close, whispered harshly. "The surgery suites are behind you. Metropolis IS in that direction- and if you're actually seeing Whitney from here, in Smallville, you can see him from the farm. Let's go."
Dumbly, Clark nodded, rising to his feet. They walked toward the door together, only to be stopped by a policeman.
"I wouldn't go out there, Mr. Luthor. The press has arrived by the vanload from Metropolis."
"Damn," Lex swore under his breath. "I'm still parked out there- is there any way we can get to my car?"
The man shook his head, "No. But… look- they're rotating me to a new post in a few- and I could give you a lift. Would that work?"
"Yes."
The cop nodded, "Great. Hey- you did give your statement to the detectives, right?"
Clark flinched. Lex tensed, replying, "No, not yet. It was… busy. Could we do it tomorrow?"
"Ah… dunno, I'll ask."
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They had roped off the whole block- wouldn't let the press anywhere close to the scene. Sarge had already thrown the Ledger photographer out, with a gruff, "Sorry, Nate, but if I let you in, I have to let in the whole herd of blood-sucking leaches." The other reporters, photographers, cameramen and television news reporters were already starting to show up. Every cop in town had been called in, and half of them were just keeping the press back from the scene and out of the hospital. They were even using the city's fire trucks as barriers at the end of each street.
Smallville's head police officer was furious. This was a quiet little town- things like this weren't supposed to happen here. Smallville was a lazy little town, without the violence or crime rate of Metropolis. That was the big reason he had quit the force there to move out here. The crime wasn't supposed to follow him like this.
His tired hands ran through his steel gray hair as he looked around. He had set up 'headquarters' in the street outside the Beanery, a few folding tables had been set up, each with its pile of neatly bagged, labeled, and stacked pieces of evidence. Surrounding him, detectives and cops were carefully reporting and cataloging their finds. Other detectives and officers were carefully digging through the mess inside, but Sarge was busy directing efforts to keep the newshounds and curious locals away. The victims and the bystanders had all been removed hours ago- many to visit the hospital to have their injuries treated, others to give their statements at the station.
There was a small commotion, and on of the cops on guard duty came up. Sarge growled, "Please tell me that you haven't had to arrest one of the press. Don't they know that we've got better things to do than keep some professional thrill seeker from contaminating the crime scene or the witnesses?"
"No sir. It's just that… detective Smith has been searching the vehicle that we've assumed to belong to the shooter. We've… found something."
"Humpf. What?"
"A miniature TV set- detective Smith said it was a 'monitor', like on a computer."
"So?"
"Smith turned it on- the picture- it's running a live action scene of inside the Beanery." The young man pointed, "Somewhere in there is a camera, to watch what's going on. Smith… he said it was pretty high-tech."
Sarge had a sinking feeling.
////
It was still dark, the moon high in the sky. Clark watched, head tilted against the glass, eyes glazed, as the police car pulled up to the house. Lex opened the door, turning to Clark.
"You all right?" His friend's words were soft.
"Fine."
"I think." Lex swallowed, somehow nervous, "We need to get some sleep. I'm exhausted."
Clark nodded, remembering Lex making quite a few phone calls- organizing all the mayhem that had gone on during the night. Doctors had shown up from his company in Metropolis, and Lex had somehow been involved in contacting several of the families about their children who had been at the Beanery. "Yeah." Clark whispered, getting out.
The cop- Clark couldn't remember his name- cleared his throat. "We'll send someone by for your statements soon, okay? Just don't talk to the press… and get some sleep."
"Sure thing." Lex said, shutting the police car's door behind the retreating Clark. The young teen barely noticed Lex, didn't notice the car pull away.
The back screen door burst open, and mom was running out. Dad behind her. "Clark! Oh Clark!" She practically sobbed, throwing herself at her son. "Oh my baby…" She enveloped him in a hug, and then Martha turned to Lex, "Lex…" She held out an arm, pulling the weary man in. Behind her, Jonathan came up, joining in. Martha tightened her grip around them, obviously blinking back tears. "I was so worried-"
Clark whimpered, his chest and arm hurt- "Yeah," he gasped, "mom."
Lex said, "Come on, let's go inside." He sounded gruff.
Clark whimpered again, his mom's hand gripping his arm. "Lex?" She asked, looking at Clark.
The teen could hear Lex sigh. "Come on… he's… bruised. It's nothing serious." Then he laughed, short and bitter.
"Bruised?" Mom and Dad were confused, but Lex hustled them all inside.
Once in the kitchen, Lex gently asked Clark to take off his shirt. He did, and his mom and dad gasped. Clark looked down in confusion, noticing the purple blotches for the first time. He cocked his head, curiously poking at one reddish-purple mark and wincing at the pain.
Lex sighed. Watching him, ignoring the wondering looks of his parents, as Clark traced fingers over the marks. Clark looked up. "They hurt." He knew he sounded surprised.
"Oh baby," mom cooed, while dad just blinked. "What happened?"
"He got shot." Lex replied. "The… gunman… had a machine gun. And… apparently Clark is bullet-proof."
"Oh my." Mom breathed.
"They're everywhere," Dad said, "what did he do, aim at you?"
Clark winced. "I… didn't mean it."
Lex reached out, squeezing an un-bruised section of his arm. "Clark, why don't you go to bed? Okay? I'll… talk to your folks."
He nodded dumbly, and walked off to his bedroom.
////
Lex watched Clark go, shaking his head. He pulled out a chair, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Martha, Jonathan. Please sit- I think you need to know what happened." They did, and Lex continued. "Clark stopped the gunman." He paused, and then elaborated, "permanently."
The Kent's eyes were two copies of surprise. Lex began, "He came in, started shooting- holding two machine guns. Clark pushed me down, and then jumped up- at least I think he did, he was moving too fast to see- and hit the man in the head with a lamp. The gunman went down like a… sack of potatoes. Never got up again. I think it was instantaneous- Clark must have crushed his skull. The men from the hospital simply took his vitals and… bagged him."
"Clark… killed someone?" Martha said.
Jonathan just shook his head in denial.
Lex continued. "It was an accident… I know that the man got off quite a few rounds before Clark could stop him." He paused, and then added, "Clark didn't mean to. But… everything was going so fast. And… people were dying. Clark stopped that."
They were silent then, and Lex could remember the look on Clark's face when the emergency personnel had checked the dead man out, shaking their heads and leaving the body for the cops. His friend hadn't been the same since- Clark had spent the night in a haze, not thinking, and just following orders. Not realizing his chest was covered in bruises. Barely hearing what was said to him. And most importantly to Lex, not watching out for another attack.
Lex still had to determine what he was going to do next, but right now he was too tired to think. "I'm going to bed." He announced, and got up.
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Author's Notes:
Writter's Block is a @$#. Sorry this is so late.