PART SEVEN



Clark Kent glanced at the clock again. Still fifteen minutes before the bell rang.

Sighing, he tapped his fingers against the edge of his desk. At times like these, he'd welcome the activation of a new power. Something that would make time move faster, maybe. Not a lot. He didn't want to blink and find it was next Tuesday. He just wanted to blink and find class was over.

Eyes narrowed, Clark stared at the minute hand, and willed it to move forward.

"Bored, Mr. Kent?"

Startled, Clark looked from the clock to Ms Simmons. The teacher looked more than a little annoyed.

As his classmates turned to look at him, a flush worked its way up Clark's neck.

"Is there somewhere you'd rather be besides my class?" Ms Simmons continued.

Clark managed to keep the "duh" off of his face. There was always somewhere a sixteen year-old would rather be than in class. It was like a law of nature. But, he knew when to play it smart. "No, ma'am."

"Glad to hear it. So it shouldn't be too much of an effort for you to pay attention."

"Yes, ma'am." Clark pulled his textbook an inch closer, and stared at the page.

"Thank you." With a satisfied nod, Ms Simmons continued on with the lesson.

Glancing up, Clark found that one person was still looking his way. Chloe was grinning at him, obviously enjoying the fact that he'd been caught.

Outwardly, Clark scowled at her. But, on the inside, he smiled. Chloe was back. Compared to the distant, distracted girl who'd been wandering the halls of Smallville High the past few days, she was her old self again.

Turning his attention towards Ms. Simmons, and pretended to listen to what the teacher was saying. But, truth was, Clark had been too hyper to concentrate in any of his classes today. Not just because of what happened yesterday, but because of the decision he'd made this morning.
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"I'm going to tell her."

A deafening silence filled the Kent kitchen. Clark's parents stared at him for one long moment, then tuned to stare at each other.

His expression grave, Jonathan Kent set down his coffee cup. "Are you sure that's a good idea, son? I know you were were all pretty strongly effected by what happened to Chloe yesterday. We all were." He waited for his wife to nod in agreement. "Which is why you should take some time to think it over with a clear head."

"But I have thought it over, Dad," Clark said. He pushed his half-empty plate towards the center of the table. "And I realized there really isn't a reason not to tell her anymore."

"What do you mean, honey?" Martha Kent asked.

"Well, I've been thinking about why I haven't told her before now."

"Because the fewer people who know your secret," Jonathan said with certainty, "the less risk there is that others will find out."

"That was part of it," Clark admitted. "But that wasn't the real reason. Deep down, I've always believed I could trust Chloe with the truth." He grinned a little. "No matter how many jokes I make about her selling her soul for a story big enough for the front page of The Planet."

Jonathan looked pretty skeptical, which Clark pretty much expected. But Martha seemed a little more receptive.

"So, what was the real reason?" she asked.

Clark sighed. He might not be from this planet, but he was still a 16 year-old boy, and this 'talking about your feelings' stuff was hard. "I was worried about how she would react," he finally said. "I mean, look at Pete. He completely freaked. For a while there, I thought I'd lost one of my best friends. Which is pretty much what I'd always thought would happen if anyone found out."

"Oh, honey." His mom put her hand over his, and gave him that 'look' only a mothers could produce. The one that made you choke up just looking at it.

Clark cleared his throat and continued. "With Chloe, it's different. I won't have to wonder whether she'll be able to deal. She understands what it's like to learn you aren't what you thought you were. To be able to do things 'normal' people can't. I mean, she even knows what it's like to get hit by a car going 60 miles an hour and not have a scratch on you the next day. That's not something I have in common with a lot of people."

Maybe he shouldn't have tried to lighten things up with humor. His dad didn't look amused by it. And his mom was still giving him the pitying glances.

"Besides," he hurried on. "Maybe finding out I really know what she's going through will help Chloe somehow."
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Snapping out of his reverie, Clark realized almost everyone had their hand raised. Quickly, he put his own hand in the air. He had no idea what the question was, but the odds were in his favor. Seven times out of ten, Ms Simmons called on students who didn't have their hand up.

Like she did this time. As Marcy Benton struggled to come up with an answer she didn't have, Clark lowered his hand.

Now that he'd decided to tell Chloe the truth, he couldn't wait. After all, look how well telling Pete had turned out. Clark now had a friend who knew the truth, and it was a major relief. Finally, there was someone he didn't have to hide his abilities from. Someone he could talk to when things got even weirder than usual.

And, most important, someone he could really show off in front of.

Still, while Pete accepted what Clark was, he couldn't understand what it was like. He'd never felt like a freak.

Well, no more than the average teen-ager anyway.

But Chloe…

Just then, the bell rang.

Clark grabbed his books and went to Chloe's desk. "You know, friends should enjoy watching friends suffer."

"Maybe they shouldn't," Chloe said with an unrepentant grin. "Doesn't mean they won't."

As they walked towards the door, Clark was hit by a wave of nervousness. This was it! He was going to tell her.

Clark swallowed. His heart tripped over a beat. And he suddenly couldn't remember why he'd been so impatient for class to end.

"So," he began as they stepped out into the hall. "Where do you want to…"

"I'm sorry, Clark," she interrupted. "I know I said we'd talk right after school, but I can't. Not right now."

"What? Why?"

"Why, what?" Pete asked as he sauntered up next to him. "And who, when, where and how?"

Chloe glared at him. "Very funny."

"I thought so," Pete grinned. "So, what's up?"

Clark could see Chloe's shoulders tense. As her gaze slid away from Pete, she shifted from foot to foot. "Oh I, uh, was just telling Clark about this interview I set up last week. I completely forgot about it. If I don't do it today, who knows when I'll get another chance. And I worked too hard to get this far to blow it now, you know? So, I'll see you guys later, 'kay?" Flashing them a grin, she turned and disappeared down the hall.

For one long moment, the two young men stood in stunned silence.

"Okay." Pete scratched his head. "What was that all about?"

Clark shrugged. "I have no idea. But it looks like Chloe's back to normal."

"Yeah. She's been doing a pretty good zombie impersonation the past few days. But, whatever was wrong seems to be okay now."

Without comment, Clark started for his locker. He'd forgotten that Pete had been as worried about Chloe as he had. They'd even talked about it, trying to figure out what might be bothering their friend.

Well, now Clark knew. And he couldn't say.

Clark opened his locker. It looked like telling Chloe the truth would have to wait a bit longer.
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The Talon wasn't too busy today, which suited Clark just fine. Things were crowded enough inside his head as it was.

As he dropped onto a stool, he let out a weary sigh.

"Hey, Clark!" said Lana Lang as she appeared, holding a coffee pot. "What can I get you?"

As usual, seeing Lana's smile was enough to lift his spirits. Clark straightened in his seat, and offered her a smile of his own. "Hey, Lana. I'll take a coffee, I guess."

"Coming right up." She produced a cup from under the counter and began to pour. "So, any new developments in the life of Clark Kent?"

Well, Clark thought, I just found out one of my best friends can't die, and I'm trying to find her so I can tell her I'm an alien. I'd say that's pretty new.

Out loud, he said, "No new developments. Although the mystery meat they served in the caff this afternoon was pretty interesting."

"So, you saw it move too, huh?" Lana grinned.

"It wouldn't have surprised me." Clark grimaced. "Actually, I came here looking for Chloe. She went off to give some interview, and I thought she might drop by here afterwards."

Lana frowned. "I don't think so. When I saw her, she said she'd probably head straight home."

As Lana drifted off to serve a new group of customers, Clark stared into his coffee cup. It was kind of funny, actually. The one person he'd been sure would jump all over his secret the first chance she got, and he couldn't find her to tell her.

"Deep thoughts?"

Startled, Clark spun around. "Lex! Um, hi."

Lex Luthor offered a faint smile. "You looked like you were a million miles away. I almost thought twice about bringing you back down to Earth."

"Yeah," Clark admitted. "I kind of have something on my mind."

"Oh?" Pushing his hands into his pockets, Lex nodded. His gaze became sharp, searching. A person could almost mistake it for mild curiosity...if they didn't know him better. "So, is it something you want to talk about?"

Clark shook his head. "Not really."

After a lengthy pause, Lex nodded. "Of course you don't," he said with a resigned smile. "Clark Kent. Man of Mystery."

Chagrined, Clark ducked his head. It looked like he now had two secrets to keep. Because his life wasn't complicated enough.

Lex sat on the seat next to Clark's. "I saw something very interesting yesterday." He raised a hand to signal the girl behind the counter. Within seconds, his usual was sitting on the counter in front of him.

Clark wondered what Lex would say. The older man's definition of 'interesting' was sometimes a lot different from other people's.

"Yesterday, I saw Chloe Sullivan in a car with a man," Lex continued. "A man I recognized."

Clark nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken. As it was, he had to clear his throat several times.

Merrick, Clark thought. Lex must've seen Chloe with that Merrick guy.

"Um, recognized?"

Lex nodded. "His name is William Merrick, if I remember correctly. He's a freelancer—highly paid, I might add—who did some security work for an acquaintance of mine."

Clark took in that tidbit of information. Merrick was one of the things he'd meant to ask Chloe about. And if Lex could tell him something now....

"So, you know him?" he asked.

Lex shrugged. "Not really. I only met him once. He seemed much too cheerful for the kind of work he'd been hired for. Until I saw his eyes."

Clark frowned. "His eyes?"

"They're the windows to the soul, Clark. I learned that looking into my father's for the past 21 years." There was a bitter twist to Lex's smile. "Looking into William Merrick's eyes, I saw a very dangerous man. Well, to those who pose a threat to his clients, at least."

Clark felt his heart sink. He wasn't liking the sound of this.

"But I have to wonder," Lex continued speculatively. "What's a man like that doing in a town like Smallville? And how does he know Chloe Sullivan?"

"Hmmm," Clark mumbled noncommittaly. Now, finding Chloe was even more important than it had before.
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Clark was about to ring the Sullivan's doorbell when he heard shouting coming from inside.

Opening the door (which wasn't locked, and Chloe's dad would kill her if he ever found out), Clark hurried into the house. Following the voice, he ran to the kitchen.

Chloe was there, alone. She stood close to the entrance, her back to the door. Holding the handle of a large butcher's knife in both hands, she brandished it like it was some kind of sword.

"So, thought you could get the drop on me, huh?" she was saying…to thin air. "Well, ha! Think again, pal. The fact that you're 6 foot 5 and nearly 300 pounds doesn't mean a thing to me. I've faced Immortals way scarier than you and lived to tell the tale."

Clark stood motionless in the doorway, an embarrassed heat climbing up his neck. He knew Chloe would be mortified if she knew he was seeing this. He should probably tiptoe back out the front door and pretend it never happened.

But, instead, he stood there and watched Chloe play…whatever game she was playing with her imaginary friend.

"A ha!" Chloe exclaimed. "You've heard of me? Knew you couldn't take me without a little back up? Brought a little help along, did you?" She laughed confidentally. "Well, you know what they say. The more the merrier!"

Without warning, she spun around.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, as she thrust the knife forward…

Right into Clark's stomach.

For one long moment, nothing moved in the Sullivan kitchen. And then…

"Oh, my God!" Chloe exclaimed. She released the knife, and it clattered to the floor. Hands pressed over her mouth, she stared at Clark with horrified eyes. "Oh, God!"

Clark frowned down at his shirt which was now sported a ragged gash. And this was one of his favorites, too.

"Okay, Clark," Chloe said, still frantic. She grabbed his arms. "Stay calm. You're going to be okay. Just lie down." She gave him a push, and didn't seem to notice when he didn't budge. "And don't panic. And firmly apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding…"

Finally, when she ran out of steam, she looked—really looked—at Clark's stomach for the first time. Head tilting to one side, she took a step back.

"Clark? Where's the bleeding?" she asked. Her gaze fall to the butcher's knife. Which was lying at their feet, blade bent nearly in half.

When she turned to stare at him, Clark offered her a weak, chagrined smile.

"Um, Chloe. There's something I've been meaning to tell you."


(TO BE CONTINUED)