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 5

By morning Clark had convinced that it had been just a dream. Sure, it had been a very intense, vivid realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. Nothing in his repertoire of super abilities had ever hinted to him being psychic, or telepathic.

It had been a dream, nothing more.

Even if Lex wasn't answering his cell phone. And the servants at the castle didn't know where Lex was when Clark called. (They promised that he would get Clark's message to return his call.) Lex was fine. Clark was sure…mostly.

And yet…

As the day wore on, he became more and more distracted, keeping as ear tuned for the ringing of the telephone. For Lex to return his call. Nearly jumping out of his skin every time the phone did ring. His father noticed his unease as they were hitching the plow to the back of the old tractor and called him on it. "Something wrong there, son?" he asked, concern written in the faded, friendly blue eyes.

Clark hesitated as he debated internally. He knew his father would move heaven and earth to help him with any problem except for the ones involving a certain son of Lionel Luthor. And therein lay the problem. Seeing his father waiting patiently, Clark decided to take an oblique approach. "Did you ever just get the feeling that something's wrong, only you don't know what it is exactly?"

Jonathan Kent nodded thoughtfully. He thought he knew what his son was talking about. "I think everyone on this planet has had that feeling at one time or other. Most times it means nothing, but sometimes…" he trailed off, seeing Clark staring at him hopefully, like he had all the answers. He sighed. Sometimes being a parent was the hardest thing in the world to be. "I will admit that I don't believe in ESP, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist." Jonathan eyes narrowed as a sudden suspicion hit him. "Are you developing a new ability?" he asked.

Clark shifted from foot to foot with discomfort. "I don't think so, but I had this really weird dream last and I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like it was intense," he set the words out as an offering that he was willing to listen, even if the dream was embarrassing to talk about. Like maybe about Lana.

Shrugging, Clark grinned a little sheepishly. "Yeah, it was." He knew his father was willing to listen, but this involved Lex, and his father wasn't always the most open-minded when it came to Lex. Shaking his head, he decided to drop the subject. "Anyway, Chloe wants me and Pete to go out to this old abandoned farmstead with her for a school project this afternoon."

Recognizing the change of subject as a distraction, Jonathan smiled and gave his son a curious look. "Isn't it still summer vacation?" Seeing Clark nod, he just had to ask, "So why are you guys working on a project? You know you have chores," he reminded Clark.

Rolling his eyes, Clark grinned sheepishly. "Chloe kinda bullied us into helping her," he admitted.

Laughing, Jonathan Kent slapped his son on his shoulder. "All right, son. You can have the afternoon off." Seeing Clark grimace, he couldn't help adding, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You really should learn to stand up for yourself."

Clark's head came up at the sound of the phone ringing in the house in the distance. He listened intently, hearing his mother answer. Turning to his dad with a smile of relief lighting up his face. "That's for me." 

"The call you've been expecting?" Jonathan said. Seeing his son nod and shoot off to the house, the elder Kent wondered what was going on that seemed so important to Clark. Then turned back to the tractor. The fields weren't going to plow themselves.

In the house, Martha hadn't even bothered to call out to Clark that the phone was for him. She just handed him the phone with a knowing smile and went back to the kitchen where she was baking her cakes. Clark took the phone with a smile and turned his back to her, putting the phone to his ear and saying, without preamble, "You took log enough to call me," he said, thinking it was Lex finally returning his call.

"Clark?" It was Chloe, she sounded…strange. Like she was distracted.

"Chloe?" Clark asked, feeling the pit of his stomach drop. (An interesting feeling, and not a little disquieting.) It wasn't Lex.

"Clark? Are you watching TV?" she asked.

"No, I've been out helping my dad," Clark started to explain when she cut him off abruptly.

"Turn it on, now!" she demanded, almost fiercely.

Stunned, Clark did what she said. His mother, sensing something wrong, came into the living room, wiping his flour-covered hands on a towel. "Clark?" she asked in concern.

Not answering, he pressed the on button, still holding the phone. The old TV took a few seconds for the picture to tune in, but the sound came in right away.

'…reporting live from the Missouri river bridge where the breaking news is that the car reportedly belonging to Alexander Luthor, son of billionaire mogul Lionel Luthor, is now being pulled from the river. Apparently, according to eyewitnesses, the car had skidded off the bridge and crashed in the river forty-five minutes ago. Divers have been searching for Alexander, or Lex, as he in known by his friends, but so far there is no sign of him. According to the local sheriff, the river's currents are especially swift at this point. Lionel Luthor is unavailable for comment at this time, but we will keep trying to get a statement from him…"

Martha stood with one hand pressed against her lips in shock, her eyes darting from Clark to the television screen and back to Clark again. "Oh, god."

Clark hadn't moved at all, he just stood there; the phone still gripped in one hand, staring at the screen, his mouth working silently. Martha thought he might have said 'Lex," but she wasn't sure. Then Clark was gone in a blur and the phone dropped to the rug. Martha bent over to pick it up, faintly hearing Chloe's voice still on the other end.

"Clark?" Chloe was asking.

"I'm sorry, Chloe. This is Martha," Clark's mother said, still numb from the shock of the news she was watching. Lex…dead? She couldn't believe it.

"Oh, Mrs. Kent. Please, tell Clark that I'm so sorry. We were supposed to get together later, but now I think that we should do it some other time," Chloe was apologizing, and Martha was quick to reassure the teenager. She explained that Clark was in shock and had handed her the phone. Chloe accepted the explanation and hung up soon afterwards. 

Jonathan came in shortly afterward, looking for Clark. Martha was still staring at the television, and without turning around, took her husband's hand as she told him what had happened. Jonathan sighed and held her close. He knew that she had liked Lex, and despite his own dislike for the young Luthor, was sorry that Lex had gotten himself killed, for his son's sake of course. Glancing up at the television, he cursed suddenly, causing Martha to look up and ask what was wrong. She stifled a gasp.

There, on the screen that was still at the sight of the breaking news, Clark was in the background, staring at the river hard.

"What the heck is he doing?" Jonathan asked harshly.

"Looking for Lex," Martha said, numb with heartbreak for her son's futile efforts. As the Kents watched, Clark had turned his back to the camera was slowly walking downriver, still staring at it intently.

"But there is no way that Lex could have survived underwater for so long." Jonathan said.

"He's looking for the body," Martha replied, half filled with heartsickness and horror at the grisly mission her son had set for himself.

"How does Clark think that he will find him?"

Closing her eyes, Martha murmured, "X-ray vision."

"The current is too strong," Jonathan said softly. "Lex's body would have been pulled downriver, and who knows if it will ever be found." Damn lunatic kid. Even dying Lex had managed to disrupt the Kent's lives.

The rest of the day, the Kents tried to make some semblance of normality, but it was trying. People, knowing of Clark's friendship with Lex, kept calling, ostensibly to convey their condolences, but to Martha, it felt as if they were almost gloating. She was glad that Clark wasn't there to hear them. Occasionally, Jonathan would come in, and seeing her concerned look, would shake his head. No, Clark wasn't home yet.

It wasn't until after dark that Jonathan saw a light on in the hayloft. He and Martha, hand in hand, walked out to the barn and climbed the step, pausing at the top to look at their son.

Clark looked terrible. He was sitting on the couch, with his head in his hands. His clothes were nearly ruined from his long, swift run and streaked with grim. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was an absolute mess. But none of that mattered when he looked up at his parent, and swallowed hard. Martha had never seen him look so lost.

"He's gone. I couldn't even find his body."

TBC