Fly Me Courageous
By Annabell
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Smallville or its characters. This is done purely for fun.
Warnings: This fic will contain swearing, much violence and angst. Yet I can't resist some humor either.
This is un-beta-ed. So any errors are mine own.
Note: This takes place as though Tempest never happened. Lex is 22 and Clark is 16.
Archive: Hell yeah!
Chapter 3
"Man, I cannot believe you, Chloe. Two weeks left of summer vacation and you want to work on a school project?" Pete gaped at Chloe as if she had grown a third head. He had only half believed her when she called and asked him and Clark to meet her at the Talon to work on an English paper. The heat of the day was dissipating now that the sun was down, but the air still felt uncomfortably hot and humid, especially for those who lived without the luxury of air conditioning. "And you think that we would believe that you just casually bumped into Mrs. Sanderson and the subject of out first paper just happened to come up? I mean c'mon! I'm seriously thinking you are psycho."
"Hey, I think she just wants to get a head start," Clark tried to defend his friend, although privately he agreed with Pete. It wouldn't have been so bad if she did it by herself, but Chloe had a knack of getting Clark and Pete to go along with her ideas, not matter how much either of them didn't want to. She was like a force of nature. Or maybe a bully, Clark couldn't decide which.
"A paper on local history isn't hard, guys. "Chloe argued as she stirred her coffee. She hated to admit that she had been bored over summer vacation. It had been a quiet summer, with nothing new to add to her Wall of Weird. This way she could have an excuse to hang out with Pete and Clark. But on hindsight, maybe homework wasn't such a hot idea, relatively speaking as she noted their distinct lack of enthusiasm.
Clark, ever the softhearted, saw her face fall. He knew he was defeated. "At least Chloe is making it interesting with the abandoned houses angle." Trying to look on the bright side.
As the years passed, and commercial farming gradually took the place of the family farm, more and more farmsteads had been abandoned. Houses stood empty, open to the winds and seasons long after the families that had lived there moved to the cities in search of a better life.
"Oh alright. I know the perfect place," Pete said, seeing Clark give in, knew he didn't stand a chance. He felt better when he saw Chloe's face brighten.
"Where?" she asked eagerly.
"You know that old Stockardd farm on the other side of town?" Pete asked. "My older brother and his pals would go there and party sometimes after football games."
The forgotten farmstead, still known as the Stockardd place, abandoned for too many years still stood silently. Miles away from the nearest neighbor, it was surrounded by waist-high grass that had returned to prairie. Occasionally, high school kids used the place for an illicit kegger. But the rotting floors and caving wooden walls discouraged the party crowd. The barn had long since given up the ghost, reduced to a pile of timbers by a ferocious windstorm years earlier. The rafters still stuck up like the bleached skeletal ribs of some prehistoric beast that died ages ago. Nowadays, the only human to come within shouting distance was the farmer who tended the fields surrounding the house and, sitting in the enclosed cab of the tractor and listening to the radio, he never even spared the farmstead a glance.
Local kids liked to tell each other that the place was haunted. Adults didn't discourage the rumors simply because it kept would-be mischief-makers from exploring the farmstead and getting hurt. It certainly fit the description of a haunted house. The empty windows and weather beaten wood siding stared blankly back at any onlooker. The wind whispering through the rotting timber sounded uncannily like voices. It was enough to make even the most stubborn of skeptics feel the hair on the back of their neck rise.
"I think so," Clark answered, rocking back in his chair. "I've never been there."
"You aren't missing much. But it would be good for some pictures and maybe we can turn up something there. I still can't believe that we are doing this! I'm telling you, Chloe, You. Are. Psycho," Pete insisted.
"Then tell me this. Who is worse? The psycho? Or the person who follows them?" Chloe asked, trying, and failing to imitate Alec Guinness' Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Pete glanced at her sideways. "God Chloe. Star Wars is sooo dead! Get with the now."
"Hey, the originals were good!"
"They were ok for their time, but the new ones suck. You know its bad when the CGI characters can act more convincingly then the real actors."
Clark had to side with Pete. "He's right. But Ewan McGregor was good," he pointed out, "and Samuel Jackson."
"Hey! Don't get me wrong, Sam's my man! Yeah, those two were good, but the rest of it rivals the steaming piles of cow shit that you have shovel out of the barn every day my friend."
"So what movie do you think was better, Spiderman or Star Wars?" Clark asked.
"Neither, Blade 2 is my movie of choice." Pete announced.
"Blade 2?" Clark raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Wesley Snipes rocks! Besides, he looks just like me. I think he is my long lost brother."
"Pete, what color is the sky in your world?"
"Shut up."
Chloe rolled her eyes at the banter.
They watched the surprisingly busy street through the front window. Most nights, Smallville rolled up its sidewalks at 8 o'clock. But it appeared that the heat was keeping people out and about. "Say, Clark, I just picked up the Fast and the Furious DVD. You wanna come over and watch it?" Pete offered.
Clark was tempted. He had missed it in the theaters. "Uh, what's it about again?"
"Fast cars, hot chicks and fast cars," Pete grinned smugly.
"Who's in it?"
"Paul Walker and Vin Diesel."
"Who?"
"Oh. My God. Clark, you have got to get out more. You don't know who Vin Diesel is? Ever see Pitch Black?"
Embarrassed, Clark shook his head. He hated when Pete acted all superior like this.
Pete smirked. "He's kinda short, bald and has a voice that girls just flip over."
Chloe couldn't resist "Speaking of bald guys and fast cars, seen Lex lately?"
Blinking, Clark tried to keep up with Chloe's segue. "Not lately. He's been busy working on some project or other. He won't say what it is either." Clark tried to keep his voice light and not caring. He considered Lex his best friend but for the past few months or so, he had only seen the young Luthor for brief moments, and the conversations were short. Not unfriendly, but he could tell the Lex's thoughts were on other things. Once, he had asked Lex what he was doing, and Lex's reply was "just business, nothing you need to worry about Clark." And that was that.
"I think he's up to something," Chloe leaned foreword, motioning for the guys to do the same. Her eyes glowed with speculation. "I think Lex is working on something big."
"How do you know?" Clark asked, intrigued. Anything that involved Lex was always something of interest to him.
"Ever since Lex took over the plant, he has been up to something, but no one will say for sure what it is. And my dad has been acting really weird lately. Whatever Lex is up to, he knows what it is, but he won't say anything. He stays at the plant late at night and leaves early in the morning. You know that he has the worst poker face in the history of Smallville. He was practically giggling into his cornflakes this morning."
Snorting, Pete rolled his eyes. "I'll bet Lex is working on some plan to take over the world or something."
"Yeah, sure. That's gotta be it." Clark said sarcastically. "Like Lex could take do that."
"Hey, this is Lex Luthor we are talking about. If there is one person on this planet capable of anything, it's Lex." Chloe pointed out.
"You gotta admit Lex is one strange dude, even for Smallville." Pete said thoughtfully.
Clark didn't want to talk about Lex anymore. He was getting rather worried about his friend, but there was no one he could really confide that worry to. Shrugging, he said, "Well if Lex is really planning on taking over the world, I hope he gives me his Porsche."
Grinning, Pete gave him a high five. "Lets go watch the movie." Waving goodbye to Chloe, they headed for Pete's house.
Several hours later…
Clark's eyes snapped open as he sat up in his own bed, gasping for breath. His heart, which rarely increased its tempo under the heaviest exertions, was racing at the memory of his dream. Shaking, he reached up and pushed a heavy lock of hair out of his eyes, and ending up rubbing his forehead. It had seemed so real.
Sliding off his bed, he padded to the window and looked up into the clear sky. The moon shone brilliantly overhead, flanked by the few stars bright enough to be visible next to it. Clark judged it to be about two in the morning. Crickets chirped enthusiastically from below. It was still so humid that the terror-induced sweat wasn't drying. Deciding that he didn't want to go back to sleep, he vaulted silently out the bedroom window, landing with a soft thud on the lawn. It was coated in dew, soaking his bare feet as he made his way to the barn.
Clark didn't dream often. Sometimes he dreamt of flying, or of Lana. But while these were pleasant, they were also infrequent and quickly faded. But this one had been different. Someone was calling for help. He could hear that person as clear as day. No terror or desperation on the surface, but underneath, oh underneath, there was a note of fear that struck right into Clark's soul. He had tried to follow the sound of the voice, but it was fading, getting fainter even though Clark was running as fast as he could. It continued to fade until it was nothing but a sigh on the dying breeze.
The disturbing part was that it had sounded like Lex. He had heard his friend call for help before. But why would Lex need help now? It was tempting to run over to the castle and check on his friend, just as a reassurance that it was only a dream and that Lex was safe in his bed. But Clark restrained himself. It was 2 o'clock in the morning. He could wait until a civilized hour to see Lex. He climbed into his loft and plopped down on the sofa. There was more of a breeze up there, and he closed his eyes.
He was sure it had only been a dream and that Lex was fine. Sighing, he let himself drift off to sleep once again.
TBC
