Part 4

Author's notes: I'd started this part once already, but it was more or less plot less. Then another idea hit me last night and I decided to re-write it. Also, sorry for the long wait for an update… blame my school for giving end of the year finals!

The rest of the week past relatively uneventfully. Clark's dreams were filled with visions of the strange figure hurting both Lana and himself, and the lack of sleep was beginning to catch up on him once again.

It was barely 4:00 as Clark made his way out to the loft on Saturday morning, clad in sweats and nothing else. He'd just woken from a dream of the figure.

Though the details were quickly fading from Clark's mind, he knew that nothing had happened physically to Lana or anyone else he held dear. All that had happened was that he'd seen the figure, just as clearly as he'd seen him that night in the Talon. Their eyes had connected, and… it had said… what had it said?

Whatever it had been, it had caused Clark to awaken drenched in a cold sweat and moaning softly into his pillow.

Now, as he climbed the last few steps into his loft, he tried to remember more.

This proved impossible, as with each passing second the dream grew even more unclear, until even the slightest memory was gone from Clark's mind.

Everything that is, except the feeling he'd gotten when he'd looked into the creature's eyes…

It had been terror.

Pure terror such as he'd never felt before in his entire life.

Countless things had happened to him, and he'd nearly lost all of his friends and family quite a few times, but the fear he had felt then was nothing compared to this.

This being was evil.

Not just something created by the meteor rocks, this being was evil.

He walked to the couch, shuttering as he sat down.

He still hadn't mentioned the figure to his parents for some reason. Only Lana knew all the details, and Clark thought the less people who knew the better.

He did feel guilty about hiding so much from his parents, but this was for their own good, or so he told himself.

Lying down on the couch, he sighed aloud. He didn't know what to do or how to defeat this figure.

And he had a feeling that things were about to get even worse.

---

The figure smiled to itself once again. It had been doing a lot of that lately, it reflected, grin growing. Clark Kent had been scared, and that was music to its ears.

It lived off fear, but especially Clark's. A lot more of its powers were now working due to all the exposure to terror, and it couldn't wait to try them out.

It crept to the Sullivan house, having seen Clark walk his girlfriend they're once or twice before.

"Wait until I'm threw with you," it said aloud, scanning the windows for that of Clark's girlfriend. "You've not even begun to know the feeling of fear, Kryptonian."

He found her window and smiled. Dark beams of black energy tinged with green streaks, the same color as the meteor rocks shot from his eyes.

They hit the glass and went through it silently, making no hole. They moved over to Lana, hovering over her face and filling her room with a light that seemed to almost radiate evil. It made Lana stir but not awaken fully, to the figure's relief.

"Go down," he whispered to them, his joy making his breathing quicken in excitement. "Take her… make them both suffer…"

But the beams did not.

They ricocheted off of Lana's bed, one heading back out the window and the other zooming through the closed door.

The figure's elation was instantly gone and he ran around the house, looking through the windows to see where the other beam had ended up.

"She must know too much," he told himself aloud, only half watching as the beam made it's way across the room. "True love is hard to penetrate… ah well. There will be other ways to torture him…"

The beam was suddenly hovering over a blonde girl, and the figure suddenly recognized her. She was another friend of Clark's! Maybe this would work out after all.

"Yes… go… that's right…" The beam was less powerful than before, having not gone into its original target of Lana, but it hit Chloe's face nonetheless.

Her sleeping features were briefly illuminated by black, making her look almost sinister, before the beam vanished completely, and Chloe's face returned to normal.

It wouldn't last long, the figure knew. He still wasn't strong enough to make a proper one, and this one was already half used on trying to enter Lana… but there was still that other beam he could use.

---

Clark entered the house later that morning, his chores completed.

His mother stood at the stove, and he greeted her cheerfully.

"Hey Mom," he said, watching her fry bacon.

She stiffened and turned to face him, an expression of disgust on her face.

"I can't believe you're my son," she told Clark, her voice harsh, filled with spite and disdain.

The words hit Clark like the lashing of a whip and he stared, green eyes widening in surprise and hurt.

"…Mom?" Painful confusion filled his voice, which had lowered slightly.

"You're an alien freak who should be exterminated!" She crossed the room, reaching him in only a few quick strides.

To Clark's shock, her hand reached up and slapped his cheek, the shape of her hand standing out clearly on his face.

But that wasn't the weird thing about it.

The weird thing was that it hurt.

Clark stared at her, both physical and mental pain shooting through him.

"Wh-Mom?" His voice was filled with confusion, sadness, and fear. "What… what…" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"Don't worry," Martha told him, a smile like her usual one yet drastically different twisting her lips. "I'm much too nice to turn you over to the government."

"Martha," Jonathon called, coming through the door. "I don't think this… thing," he gestured at Clark, as though he were an object, "should be in our house anymore."

"Dad!" Clark cried in shocked protest, eyes wide with fear.

"Don't call me that! You are not my son - you were never my son!"

Clark could feel his eyes starting to burn. Pinpricks of sadness pushed against his eyelids, and his lower lip began to quiver.

"You heard me… out!" Jonathan stepped over and pushed Clark hard towards the door.

Knees nearly giving way, Clark stumbled away but not quick enough.

"Out!" Jonathon cried again, shattering all hope of an explanation or reconciliation from Clark's mind with his next action.

In an instant Jonathon's fist was cocked and slamming repeatedly into Clark's face.

"Out! Get out! Never come near us again!"

Vision blurred, Clark stumbled out the door.

He stumbled out onto the porch, his father - no, not anymore… never again - screaming for him to stay away as he did so.

He made his way down the porch steps, tears forming slowly in his eyes as blood flowed from his face and his body ached from the inside out.

Eyes still watering, Clark made his way up the stairs to his loft, wanting peace and answers but only hearing his parent's angry shouts echoing in his head and becoming even more confused as he continued bleeding.

He reached the top of the stairs for the second time that day and stood motionless, not knowing what to do.

He turned towards the couch, then changed his mind. He walked over to a corner of the small room and slid down the wall, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

He tried to calm down, to think about the situation rationally.

But he couldn't stop shaking, couldn't keep the tears back.

His parents had hit him.

They hated him.

He was never welcome in their home again.

He was an alien freak and they hated him.

Everyone would eventually hate him, he supposed.

Maybe they already did.

How could he live without Pete's friendship and constant advice and ideas?

And Lana… oh, he couldn't live without Lana. No doubt about that.

If Lana hated him, if she'd finally come to her senses and realized how stupid she'd been for even considering dating a freak like him, then he didn't know how he'd get over it.

He buried his face in his hands, still bleeding, fighting the tears but losing.

Lana got up early on Saturday morning, and went out for a jog. She was a morning person yes, but running wasn't something she usually did.

But as she ran through the woods, a slight breeze blowing her hair, she felt almost completely free. It was so refreshing after the worry and stress she'd been under for the last few days, and she felt herself relaxing for the first time in what seemed like weeks.

Everything would be all right.

Somehow.

She didn't know how, she didn't know when, but she knew.

Things would be back to normal - well, as normal as life in Smallville could be.

She had a sudden urge to see Clark, to reassure him of this.

Slowing down her pace, she slipped into a pleasant walk.

Glancing down at her watch, which she'd put on to make sure she wasn't out too late, she saw that it was around 8:30.

Chloe wouldn't be up for hours, and Gabe had been up when she'd left, making pancakes. They wouldn't miss her for a while yet.

Martha and Jonathon would be up over at the Kent's, but she doubted Clark would be.

She knew he hadn't been getting enough sleep lately, and she almost hoped he was still sleeping, because he desperately needed it.

As she entered the farm gates and walked to the farmhouse, she wondered when she and Clark would inform his parents that Lana knew about Clark's secret.

Jonathon had forbidden Clark to tell anyone, Clark had explained her when she questioned him as to why they weren't telling his parents that she knew.

As she reached the door, she couldn't help but overhear Martha and Jonathon's conversation through the screen.

"I don't remember anything," Jonathon was saying. "Except feeling very angry over something. Lex wasn't here, was he?"

"I don't know," was Martha's response. "I don't remember anything either… except feeling really disgusted over something and hating it as well."

"Do you think Clark knows anything?"

Martha shook her head. "Knowing him, he's probably still asleep."

Lana silently backed down the steps, feeling confused.

Had something happened to the Kent's?

Walking noisily back up them, she called out a greeting, attempting to sound cheerful.

"Knock knock!" She flashed Martha and Jonathon a smile that was more or less forced, but neither adult seemed to take note of this fact.

"Morning Lana," Martha greeted her pleasantly. "Are you hear to see Clark?"

Lana nodded, and Jonathon smiled ruefully. "I'm pretty sure he's still asleep, but you might check out in the loft. If he's not there, you're more than welcome to wait for him up there. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you and we'll tell him as soon as we see him."

Lana nodded and saying her thanks to the Kent's, and left the way she had come.

---

Entering the barn, she smiled affectionately over at the horses and headed up the latter she'd climbed so many times in the last 2 years.

"Clark? You up here-"

Her question stopped abruptly as she glanced around the apparently deserted room.

She was about to just sit down on the couch and wait for him to find her, when she noticed something.

It was just at the top of the latter, and if the light from the brightly shining sun hadn't reflected off it, she doubted she would have seen it.

Looking closer, she assumed it was blood.

On closer inspection of the floor, she noted that there was more drops scattered across the wood.

Slowly but steadily, the familiar feeling of worry crept over Lana. Her heartbeat increased, and it felt like someone was squeezing her stomach painfully, or rather as though insects had taken up residents there.

She looked around the loft one last time, and finally spotted Clark. Once she'd seen him, she didn't know how she could have missed him to begin with.

He was huddled in a corner, sitting rather curled up. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his arms were wrapped tightly around them.

"Clark?" She asked, tone unsure.

He made no sign that he heard her.

She walked over and touched his shoulder gently, a gesture that seemed to terrify him for some reason.

His head jerked up and he looked around fearfully. When he saw Lana, instead of calming down like she'd expected, he gasped and leaped away from her.

"Clark?" She asked, her concern and fear growing. She looked closer at him and it was her turn to gasp.

He was bleeding from several cuts on his face.

That wasn't the worst part, however. There was a bruise in the shape of a handprint on his right cheek, and his left eye was quickly swelling.

"Clark, what happened?" She moved closer, despite the effect it was having on Clark. He moved as far away from her as was currently possible, which wasn't very far considering he'd been sitting fairly close to a wall to begin with.

Soon, he was pressed up against the wall with Lana standing over him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said in surprise, reaching out to touch his face gently. "Don't you recognize me?"

Clark's voice came out small and frightened, and he wouldn't even look up at her.

"Yes," he said so softly that Lana had to lean even closer to hear. "And that's why I'm trying to get away from you."

Confused, Lana stared down at him. Her fingers came in contact with his skin for the briefest of seconds before he cried out in pain and tried to move away.

Quickly, she removed her hand and dropped to her knees.

"Clark," she said gently, her voice low in an attempt to not scare him anymore. "I'm not going to hurt you. I swear."

She reached out and as gently as possible, cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

Frightened green eyes finally met Lana's concerned jade ones.

"You mean you don't hate me?" Clark asked, sounding at least ten years younger than he actually was.

"Of course not!"

Clark tentatively reached out and took her hand. Like his face had been,his fingers were sticky with dried blood. Looking closely, Lana tried to determine how badly Clark was hurt.

Nothing too serious, she decided. He was fine for the time being which was good because Lana had some questions for him.

"What happened?" She asked, rising slowly and pulling Clark with her. He rose shakily, and she led him over to the couch, where they sat in silence for a few seconds.

"I-I'm not quite sure," Clark said finally, sounding a little more like his usual self. "I came in from doing my chores and my mom started screaming at me. Then… she slapped me," he finished, voice barely audible.

Lana's eyes widened and she reached out, tracing the handprint-shaped bruise on Clark's face.

"Is that all?" She asked, trying to remain calm and restrain herself from running inside the house and causing Martha Kent bodily harm for hurting her Clark.

Clark shook his head, and after a pause, explained. "My dad came in and told me to get out. When I tried to protest and ask what was going on, he… he…"

The bruises and cuts on Clark's face told Lana what Clark himself couldn't. Wordlessly, her arms went around him.

They held each other in a bone-crushing embrace, Clark trembling and Lana fuming. Yet, through Clark and Lana's anger, he love they felt at being in one another's arms was evident, and their hold tightened protectively around each other.

---

The figure's earlier joy was back in full force.

Events had turned out perfectly. Though that stupid girl now knew everything… ah well.

He would take care of her later, he'd find a way.

For now, there was still the blonde girl…

Author's Notes:

First avall, I'd like to dedicate this part to Dragoness Isabella, for being a great friend, writing excellent CLana fics (go read them! after you review mine, of course ^_~), and for hating all Lana haters. You rock, Chica!

Also, I tried to make this part extra good, adding more detail and trying to make it more descriptive. I hope my writing is improving, and I'm sorry this part took so long in getting out. However, my finals are over so I'm free to write all summer and something tells me I will be doing so.

Please give feedback for this part, and I know this was slightly darker - at least, it was meant to be - so, anyone think I should up the rating?

The next part will be up… sometime. It won't take as long as the last one, but my ideas are limited, so don't hold your breath.