Standard disclaimers apply. Song is "Makes No Difference" by Sum 41
Chapter 3
Clark walked slowly out of school. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to go home and collapse on his bed. Piles of homework, discovering new powers, avoiding his dad, reassuring his mom, hanging out with Chloe and Pete, watching Lana from afar, trying to convince everyone he was okay, and waking up every day wanting to be somebody else was taking an emotional toll on him.
The last thing Clark wanted at that moment was to get on the crowded, smelly, loud school bus, especially now that Lana was riding with Whitney. But, he didn't have much of a choice. He was too exhausted to just zip home. With a sigh, he moved towards the bus. It was a long ride back to the Kent farm and he was severely dreading it. About a foot from the bus he heard the familiar sound of a truck pulling to a stop.
Jonathan stepped out of the truck and took a deep breath. "Clark!" He called to his son. He was desperate. If his plan didn't work then he didn't know what would.
Clark fully intended to just get on the bus and pretend he never heard him, until one Ms. Lana Lang interfered.
"Clark, Clark," Lana called jogging up to him.
Clark turned around to face her. "Hey Lana," he greeted her. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his dad. He silently hoped his father would just leave.
"Hey, Clark. Just wanted to tell you your dad's waiting for you over there." Lana pointed to Jonathan's truck.
"Clark!" This call was accompanied by a wave as Clark looked over to where Lana was pointing. Clark nodded curtly at his dad, not feeling to slightest wave of guilt as Jonathan's face clouded over.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks Lana. Guess I just spaced out....didn't hear him..." Clark mumbled.
"Your welcome. So I'll see you tomorrow?" Lana asked, smiling her sweet smile.
"Yeah," Clark said, forcing a bright smile. "I'll see you." He stood there for a moment simply staring at the beauty that was Lana Lang.
"Ummm...Clark?" Lana asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"Yes?" Clark asked lovestruck.
"Your dad's still waiting," she pointed out.
"Oh. Right. Thanks again." Clark frowned. "See ya."
"Bye."
Clark sighed as he walked towards the truck. If only Lana hadn't called to him.....told him. He couldn't just ignore his father and get on the bus after Lana had pointed him out. She would've known something was up, or just thought he was weird. Heck, she probably already did, he reflected, shaking his head. Without so much as saying a word, he slid into the passenger seat of the truck.
"Have a good day at school?" Jonathan asked, pulling on his seat belt.
Clark remained silent. He ran over song lyrics in his head in an effort to make the time pass quicker. "Makes No Difference" by Sum 41 was currently playing. He really just didn't want his mind to drift back to that day.....
"You know you've got to talk to me eventually. You can't just ignore me forever," Jonathan told his son.
Clark swallowed. 'You're running fast and missing but cannot help convincing. Reasons you gave me are all wearing thin.' The words running through his brain washed away his dad's/
"And you can't ignore what happened and what you tried to do." Jonathan glanced at his son, trying to see if he'd jarred a reaction from him. Clark's face was unreadable. "You tried to kill yourself," he added quietly.
'It's not meant to hurt you but let me assure you. It's not what you said but intentions you read.' Clark was barely aware that he'd begun to mouth the words.
"It's not something that you can just bury away and never think about again. It's understandable that you may feel like you're alone in this world. You're not like everyone else, not even when you try to be."
'So when you hold on to the past then you will break down what little is left. There's nothing more you can't ignore and say it makes no difference to me.' Clark felt his heart turn to lead. Looking up, he noticed that they weren't going in the direction of him. Crap.
"You have to understand son. You can look at what you have as a blessing or a curse. Try and treat your powers like the gift that they are. And you're never alone. I'm here and I love you. And for what it's worth, I know what it's like to feel alone."
Clark pressed his hands against his ears, trying his hardest not to yell. 'nowthatyou'reolderlife'sweighingonyourshoulderscan'tseemtokeepthingssoperfectlystraightwithmostthingssobasicyoumightaswellfaceityoucan'thelpbutworryit'salljustbegun.' The words ran together, and without even knowing it Clark began to whisper them.
Jonathan pulled the car over. Clark was just sitting there, babbling. "Clark?" He asked nervously. "Clark, what's wrong?"
Before Clark could stop himself, he rammed his fist through the glove compartment. Little bits of plastic went flying everywhere, and papers spilled out. Jonathan winced.
"You don't know how I feel," he whispered, his breath coming out in short gasps. "Stop saying you do. You have no idea what it's like for me."
"Help me, Clark. Help me understand." Jonathan put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Let me in. I can help."
"Take me home," Clark whispered.
"Please Clark just"
"Take me home, Dad. Please," Clark cut in.
Jonathan sighed and started up the car again, trying not to look at the hole where his glove compartment had once been. He mentally smacked himself. Why did he have to keep making things gradually worse? All he wanted was to help his son cope. So *why* did ever effort he made just push Clark farther away?
Clark sat in stony silence, pressing his head up against the window. He loved his father, he really did. He just didn't want to talk to him. Maybe, just maybe, if he could just forget all about what had happened, he could move on and become at least slightly normal. So why did his dad have to keep bringing it up?
As the soon as they reached the farm Clark shot up to his room, running past a very surprised Martha Kent. Now she knew something was up.
Jonathan walked in later, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, his expression grim. Martha chose that time to confront him.
"Jonathan," she began, moving herself in front of him. "Tell me what's going on. Clark is my son and I have the right to know what's going on. What happened while I was gone? Answer me Jonathan, or you're not the man I married."
Jonathan sighed. "I wish I could tell you Martha, but I can't. It's out of my hands."
"Looks like somebody's going to be sleeping on the couch tonight," Martha commented, storming off quickly to the kitchen. It could use a good cleaning, and she needed something to occupy her mind.
Jonathan cursed under his breath and kicked the coffee table in anger. Perfect. Now nobody in his family was talking to him, and he's be sleeping on the couch. 'This is what you get for trying to be Super Dad,' he told himself. He walked out to the barn. Maybe a couple of hours with some power tools would help him cool off.
Clark flopped down on his bed. The way he figured it, his room was the safest place to go. If he went up to his fortress of solitude, his dad might come up to try and work things out again. But, he could always simply lock his bedroom door, blast some Linkin Park and nobody would bother to try and come in.
He stripped off his jeans and sweater and put on the blue pajamas he'd gotten for Christmas. No matter how dorky he probably looked, they were amazingly warm and comfortable. He drifted quickly off to sleep. Maybe he'd feel better after a nap. Then he could watch "Everybody Loves Raymond," eat a quick dinner, and head up for bed. Who knew? Maybe he's feel better in the morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lex Luthor came to a screeching halt in front of the Kent farm. He sighed, mentally going over his plan. He had meteor rocks by the bucket full in his back seat. Boswell was good on his word. He just needed to wait until dark to carry out his plan. Everything was set. But mentally, he wasn't quite ready.
'What if you hurt him?' His conscience asked. He didn't really want to hurt Clark. He was just curious that was all. And Luthors could never remain curious for too long. In the end, they always had to get the information they needed, no matter who go in the way.
'A purely scientific experiment,' Lex reminded himself. 'And if he gets hurt, well, it's for the good of my studies.' He smiled a little bit. He'd do it.
Lex drove away. He had no idea why he'd stopped there anyway. If he'd gone in to see Clark, he was pretty sure he'd have lost the nerve to carry out his plan.
TBC. R&R peeps!
Chapter 3
Clark walked slowly out of school. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to go home and collapse on his bed. Piles of homework, discovering new powers, avoiding his dad, reassuring his mom, hanging out with Chloe and Pete, watching Lana from afar, trying to convince everyone he was okay, and waking up every day wanting to be somebody else was taking an emotional toll on him.
The last thing Clark wanted at that moment was to get on the crowded, smelly, loud school bus, especially now that Lana was riding with Whitney. But, he didn't have much of a choice. He was too exhausted to just zip home. With a sigh, he moved towards the bus. It was a long ride back to the Kent farm and he was severely dreading it. About a foot from the bus he heard the familiar sound of a truck pulling to a stop.
Jonathan stepped out of the truck and took a deep breath. "Clark!" He called to his son. He was desperate. If his plan didn't work then he didn't know what would.
Clark fully intended to just get on the bus and pretend he never heard him, until one Ms. Lana Lang interfered.
"Clark, Clark," Lana called jogging up to him.
Clark turned around to face her. "Hey Lana," he greeted her. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his dad. He silently hoped his father would just leave.
"Hey, Clark. Just wanted to tell you your dad's waiting for you over there." Lana pointed to Jonathan's truck.
"Clark!" This call was accompanied by a wave as Clark looked over to where Lana was pointing. Clark nodded curtly at his dad, not feeling to slightest wave of guilt as Jonathan's face clouded over.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks Lana. Guess I just spaced out....didn't hear him..." Clark mumbled.
"Your welcome. So I'll see you tomorrow?" Lana asked, smiling her sweet smile.
"Yeah," Clark said, forcing a bright smile. "I'll see you." He stood there for a moment simply staring at the beauty that was Lana Lang.
"Ummm...Clark?" Lana asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"Yes?" Clark asked lovestruck.
"Your dad's still waiting," she pointed out.
"Oh. Right. Thanks again." Clark frowned. "See ya."
"Bye."
Clark sighed as he walked towards the truck. If only Lana hadn't called to him.....told him. He couldn't just ignore his father and get on the bus after Lana had pointed him out. She would've known something was up, or just thought he was weird. Heck, she probably already did, he reflected, shaking his head. Without so much as saying a word, he slid into the passenger seat of the truck.
"Have a good day at school?" Jonathan asked, pulling on his seat belt.
Clark remained silent. He ran over song lyrics in his head in an effort to make the time pass quicker. "Makes No Difference" by Sum 41 was currently playing. He really just didn't want his mind to drift back to that day.....
"You know you've got to talk to me eventually. You can't just ignore me forever," Jonathan told his son.
Clark swallowed. 'You're running fast and missing but cannot help convincing. Reasons you gave me are all wearing thin.' The words running through his brain washed away his dad's/
"And you can't ignore what happened and what you tried to do." Jonathan glanced at his son, trying to see if he'd jarred a reaction from him. Clark's face was unreadable. "You tried to kill yourself," he added quietly.
'It's not meant to hurt you but let me assure you. It's not what you said but intentions you read.' Clark was barely aware that he'd begun to mouth the words.
"It's not something that you can just bury away and never think about again. It's understandable that you may feel like you're alone in this world. You're not like everyone else, not even when you try to be."
'So when you hold on to the past then you will break down what little is left. There's nothing more you can't ignore and say it makes no difference to me.' Clark felt his heart turn to lead. Looking up, he noticed that they weren't going in the direction of him. Crap.
"You have to understand son. You can look at what you have as a blessing or a curse. Try and treat your powers like the gift that they are. And you're never alone. I'm here and I love you. And for what it's worth, I know what it's like to feel alone."
Clark pressed his hands against his ears, trying his hardest not to yell. 'nowthatyou'reolderlife'sweighingonyourshoulderscan'tseemtokeepthingssoperfectlystraightwithmostthingssobasicyoumightaswellfaceityoucan'thelpbutworryit'salljustbegun.' The words ran together, and without even knowing it Clark began to whisper them.
Jonathan pulled the car over. Clark was just sitting there, babbling. "Clark?" He asked nervously. "Clark, what's wrong?"
Before Clark could stop himself, he rammed his fist through the glove compartment. Little bits of plastic went flying everywhere, and papers spilled out. Jonathan winced.
"You don't know how I feel," he whispered, his breath coming out in short gasps. "Stop saying you do. You have no idea what it's like for me."
"Help me, Clark. Help me understand." Jonathan put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Let me in. I can help."
"Take me home," Clark whispered.
"Please Clark just"
"Take me home, Dad. Please," Clark cut in.
Jonathan sighed and started up the car again, trying not to look at the hole where his glove compartment had once been. He mentally smacked himself. Why did he have to keep making things gradually worse? All he wanted was to help his son cope. So *why* did ever effort he made just push Clark farther away?
Clark sat in stony silence, pressing his head up against the window. He loved his father, he really did. He just didn't want to talk to him. Maybe, just maybe, if he could just forget all about what had happened, he could move on and become at least slightly normal. So why did his dad have to keep bringing it up?
As the soon as they reached the farm Clark shot up to his room, running past a very surprised Martha Kent. Now she knew something was up.
Jonathan walked in later, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, his expression grim. Martha chose that time to confront him.
"Jonathan," she began, moving herself in front of him. "Tell me what's going on. Clark is my son and I have the right to know what's going on. What happened while I was gone? Answer me Jonathan, or you're not the man I married."
Jonathan sighed. "I wish I could tell you Martha, but I can't. It's out of my hands."
"Looks like somebody's going to be sleeping on the couch tonight," Martha commented, storming off quickly to the kitchen. It could use a good cleaning, and she needed something to occupy her mind.
Jonathan cursed under his breath and kicked the coffee table in anger. Perfect. Now nobody in his family was talking to him, and he's be sleeping on the couch. 'This is what you get for trying to be Super Dad,' he told himself. He walked out to the barn. Maybe a couple of hours with some power tools would help him cool off.
Clark flopped down on his bed. The way he figured it, his room was the safest place to go. If he went up to his fortress of solitude, his dad might come up to try and work things out again. But, he could always simply lock his bedroom door, blast some Linkin Park and nobody would bother to try and come in.
He stripped off his jeans and sweater and put on the blue pajamas he'd gotten for Christmas. No matter how dorky he probably looked, they were amazingly warm and comfortable. He drifted quickly off to sleep. Maybe he'd feel better after a nap. Then he could watch "Everybody Loves Raymond," eat a quick dinner, and head up for bed. Who knew? Maybe he's feel better in the morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lex Luthor came to a screeching halt in front of the Kent farm. He sighed, mentally going over his plan. He had meteor rocks by the bucket full in his back seat. Boswell was good on his word. He just needed to wait until dark to carry out his plan. Everything was set. But mentally, he wasn't quite ready.
'What if you hurt him?' His conscience asked. He didn't really want to hurt Clark. He was just curious that was all. And Luthors could never remain curious for too long. In the end, they always had to get the information they needed, no matter who go in the way.
'A purely scientific experiment,' Lex reminded himself. 'And if he gets hurt, well, it's for the good of my studies.' He smiled a little bit. He'd do it.
Lex drove away. He had no idea why he'd stopped there anyway. If he'd gone in to see Clark, he was pretty sure he'd have lost the nerve to carry out his plan.
TBC. R&R peeps!