Disclaimer: Smallville and its characters belong to the WB. I'm just
borrowing them for entertainment purposes. In other words, don't sue me!!!
Timeline: Set directly after the season 1 finale. An AU fic.
Funvince Fanfic Enterprises presents:
************************************************************
SMALLVILLE CHANGES
-By Vincent "Funvince" Nguyen
************************************************************
-Chapter 3-
Clark zipped into the school then slowed to a more normal pace as he quickly walked down the halls of Smallville High. It had taken longer that he would have liked to walk Lana to the nearest shelter and leave her in the hands of the medics set up there. To his further discomfort, Lana had asked him how he had gotten to where she was in the middle of nowhere. He had vaguely said something about his truck being destroyed and left Lana to form her own conclusions. It wasn't even technically a lie this time. His father's truck had been destroyed... just not by the tornado.
He knew Lana wanted to question him some more and that she was restraining herself. She had that look on her face, the same look that she and Chloe always got each time he saved them. He knew that they wanted to ask how he always found them or how he managed to save them, but they never did.
They respected his privacy and maybe they even saw it as a way of giving thanks. That made him feel incredibly bad for lying to them and he felt guiltier when Lana pecked him on the cheek and thanked him for being so brave. He should have felt on top of the world with that sign of affection but he was tired and felt like a fraud.
Brave? Clark snorted mentally to himself. How could a man who knew he was, as far as he could tell, invulnerable be considered brave? Didn't that condition require the fear of something precious being lost? Would he be so fearless without his powers and his bullet-proof chest? Sure, there had been that incident with Eric but that had been partly his fault! That wasn't bravery, it was responsibility. If he was so brave, why was he just standing in the hallway outside the gym? Why was his stomach doing flipflops?
Clark knew he was just being down on himself because he really didn't want to face Chloe so he steeled himself and entered the gymnasium. The place was a mess. Decorations was strewn everywhere and he could tell that a lot of people left in a hurry. Probably to the basement to wait out the storm. He was about to turn to go there when he saw a figure sitting in a dark corner of the room. It was Chloe Sullivan.
Clark walked the agonizingly long trek over to that corner, waiting the entire time for Chloe to yell and scream at him. But there was only silence and that unnerved him more than anything else she could have done. He stopped about five feet away from here and timidly said, "Chloe?"
She didn't look too good. She sat with her back against the wall and her knees pressed up against her chest. She had obviously been crying, but Clark couldn't tell for sure because her bangs covered her face. Her voice seemed to come out of nowhere as she spoke. "I knew you'd be back. It's funny, isn't it? I knew that you would come back at some point. I was just making a bet with myself whether or not you'd find Lana first." Her voice was obviously trying to sound cheerful but just as obviously failing.
"Chloe, I didn't mean to-" Clark began before Chloe cut him off.
"Don't, Clark. Just don't. I'm not really in the mood." Chloe stood up and stepped out of the shadows. Her face was streaked with tears and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. Clark felt like he had been hit in the gut. She looked so fragile and it was his fault.
She stared at him then she said, "I just wanted to see you if you were all right. I'll talk to you later."
She moved to brush past him but Clark blocked her path and fumbled for words. There had to be some way to explain this to her. The sparkle in her eyes was gone and it was his fault. He had to make it up somehow.
"Clark, I really don't want to say something that I'll regret later," Chloe said softly. Then her face hardened. There was still some fire in her. "On second thought, I do. Maybe this dance didn't mean anything to you but it sure did to me! I'm moving this summer, Clark. Would it have been so much to ask that you give me one night, one night, where you paid attention to me? Couldn't you have given me that one memory to cherish, something special to remember you by? I just wanted the illusion that someone, not a freak of the week, not a mutant, that someone cared."
Chloe shook her head and breathed deeply before she continued, "You almost succeeded too. This was turning out to be the best night of my life. But you just couldn't get miss perfect Lana Lang out of your head, could you? Damn it, Clark, if you were so worried why couldn't you have taken me with you? That would have at least shown some consideration for my feelings!"
Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? Clark desperately wanted to explain but what was there to say? She was right. He hadn't even talked to her about leaving and he simply did so without any real reason to besides a feeling of concern. He had no excuse. He wanted to beg for Chloe's forgiveness and tell her that he did care and that he never wanted to hurt her. But he did hurt her and nothing he could say would make it up.
Clark watched Chloe walk away quietly. If he needed further proof that the universe hated him, this was it.
~*~
"Mom! Dad!" Clark called as he headed toward the house. He had half- walked, half-sped his way home as his concentration kept being broken by a fresh wave of guilt. He was worried about his parents, but he knew they could take care of themselves. He hoped they would have some advice for him when he got home. No doubt it would be obvious parentalisms that he could have come up with himself but it would still be a comfort to hear.
Clark frowned when he found the house empty. The storm had past out of the vicinity a long time ago. His parents wouldn't still be in the storm cellar, would they? He disappeared in a flash when a sudden worry hit him. He was in the storm cellar in seconds. His parents were fine and they were staring at his floating spaceship. Clark stared too at the machine that was currently swinging its beam of light around as if it was searching for something.
"Clark?" He turned to see his mother who had a concerned look upon her face. "We have a problem," she began.
"No kidding!" Clark interrupted with a nod toward the alien ship.
"It's not that. Well, it is that or at least it's connected to that." Martha stopped frustrated and Jonathon jumped in. "What your mother is trying to say is that our cover's blown. We caught someone snooping around down here with a video camera. If I hadn't gone after him, he would have made off with this." He took the tape out of his coat and showed it to his son.
Half-formed thoughts and worries churned through Clark's mind as he struggled to come to terms with his worst nightmare come true. He asked, "Did you know who it was? Why was he even here? What are we going to do?"
"Calm down, son," Jonathon said holding up his hands as if to ward off Clark's panicked questions. He gave a deep sigh then said, "To answer your first question, it was our old friend Roger Nixon. I can't help but think Lex Luthor has something to do with this though Nixon claims otherwise."
"Dad..." Clark said wearily. This constant Lex bashing was getting old. Even if his father did turn out to be right, and he wasn't saying he was, harping on about it wasn't going to do anything. Jonathon must have seen Clark's expression because his shoulder slumped visibly and he said, "You're right. Now's not the time. Okay, your mother and I discussed this and she being the reasonable one in the family," he gave Martha a sly glance, "she has a plan. Honey?"
Martha patted her husband's arm before she turned to Clark. "Right now Nixon has no proof. He'd be laughed out of town if he tried saying anything. That means he'll be back and he will probably bring others. So we fall back on pretending everything's normal."
"The spaceship might cause a problem," Clark said wryly.
"I was going to suggest we hide it," Martha replied looking helplessly at the alien craft. "But I believe you see the difficulty."
Clark stared at the ship for a moment then he resolutely walked toward it. Before his parents could protest, he said, "I'm going to see if there's a way to turn it off. Stand back." With only a slight hesitation, he stuck his hand into the opening and felt around for anything that felt like a button or a lever. There was a flash and Clark stood frozen, enveloped in the strange light emanating from the ship.
Dimly, as if from a far distance, Clark heard his parents shouting in panic and he tried to respond to reassure them but he couldn't. The world around him had blurred until he saw nothing but a kaleidoscope of color. He felt a presence appear in his mind and gently sift through his mind like a comb. Memories replayed in his mind within seconds. Images of him pushing a bully through a door in first grade while Pete watched agape and of his crashing into the bed whenever he woke up floating. Feelings of his elation when he realized he could run like the wind, and of his astonishment when he looked into the girls' locker room and realized that he could see through things. The presence in his mind seemed pleased by this and Clark wanted to ask why, but the restarting of memories drowned him out.
He relived his first kiss with Chloe the first day she was in Smallville. He remembered a time when he was a child and he was scared and his parents comforted him. He felt the anguish of Lana telling him that Whitney made her feel safe. He played basketball with Pete without powers. He was hit by Lex's car and propelled off a bridge. He saved his mother from a swarm of bees. His father gave him his first telescope on his birthday and told him he was a good kid...
Memories ran through his head in no comprehensible order and Clark was beginning to feel overwhelmed when they stopped. It took him a few seconds to fully realize that he was Clark Kent, age 15, and that he was being, for lack of a better word, probed and that he was not being discovered in a field by strangers or being hit by a bus in Metropolis. Fearful that at any second, the process would start again before Clark could get any answers, he shouted into the void, "What are you?"
There was no reply. Clark had the sensation of being pushed and he resisted at first but relaxed as he felt the presence telling him that everything was all right. It wasn't words so far as he could tell but Clark somehow understood that now was not the time for answers. But that time would come soon. He just had to wait.
The world snapped back into focus and Clark stumbled before he caught his balance. Immediately, he was barraged with questions from his mother and father and he waved them down. He said, "It's okay. I'm fine."
But he wasn't really paying attention to them. He was staring at the spaceship that was now lying dormant on the cellar floor. To the naked eye, it didn't seem to be doing anything, but Clark knew whatever intelligence resided in there was thinking and judging. Whatever conclusions it came to would determine what Clark got to know.
For some reason, he felt incredibly disappointed. He thought he was finally going to find some answers and to get so close only to find he had to wait a little longer was extremely frustrating. This really wasn't his day.
Timeline: Set directly after the season 1 finale. An AU fic.
Funvince Fanfic Enterprises presents:
************************************************************
SMALLVILLE CHANGES
-By Vincent "Funvince" Nguyen
************************************************************
-Chapter 3-
Clark zipped into the school then slowed to a more normal pace as he quickly walked down the halls of Smallville High. It had taken longer that he would have liked to walk Lana to the nearest shelter and leave her in the hands of the medics set up there. To his further discomfort, Lana had asked him how he had gotten to where she was in the middle of nowhere. He had vaguely said something about his truck being destroyed and left Lana to form her own conclusions. It wasn't even technically a lie this time. His father's truck had been destroyed... just not by the tornado.
He knew Lana wanted to question him some more and that she was restraining herself. She had that look on her face, the same look that she and Chloe always got each time he saved them. He knew that they wanted to ask how he always found them or how he managed to save them, but they never did.
They respected his privacy and maybe they even saw it as a way of giving thanks. That made him feel incredibly bad for lying to them and he felt guiltier when Lana pecked him on the cheek and thanked him for being so brave. He should have felt on top of the world with that sign of affection but he was tired and felt like a fraud.
Brave? Clark snorted mentally to himself. How could a man who knew he was, as far as he could tell, invulnerable be considered brave? Didn't that condition require the fear of something precious being lost? Would he be so fearless without his powers and his bullet-proof chest? Sure, there had been that incident with Eric but that had been partly his fault! That wasn't bravery, it was responsibility. If he was so brave, why was he just standing in the hallway outside the gym? Why was his stomach doing flipflops?
Clark knew he was just being down on himself because he really didn't want to face Chloe so he steeled himself and entered the gymnasium. The place was a mess. Decorations was strewn everywhere and he could tell that a lot of people left in a hurry. Probably to the basement to wait out the storm. He was about to turn to go there when he saw a figure sitting in a dark corner of the room. It was Chloe Sullivan.
Clark walked the agonizingly long trek over to that corner, waiting the entire time for Chloe to yell and scream at him. But there was only silence and that unnerved him more than anything else she could have done. He stopped about five feet away from here and timidly said, "Chloe?"
She didn't look too good. She sat with her back against the wall and her knees pressed up against her chest. She had obviously been crying, but Clark couldn't tell for sure because her bangs covered her face. Her voice seemed to come out of nowhere as she spoke. "I knew you'd be back. It's funny, isn't it? I knew that you would come back at some point. I was just making a bet with myself whether or not you'd find Lana first." Her voice was obviously trying to sound cheerful but just as obviously failing.
"Chloe, I didn't mean to-" Clark began before Chloe cut him off.
"Don't, Clark. Just don't. I'm not really in the mood." Chloe stood up and stepped out of the shadows. Her face was streaked with tears and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. Clark felt like he had been hit in the gut. She looked so fragile and it was his fault.
She stared at him then she said, "I just wanted to see you if you were all right. I'll talk to you later."
She moved to brush past him but Clark blocked her path and fumbled for words. There had to be some way to explain this to her. The sparkle in her eyes was gone and it was his fault. He had to make it up somehow.
"Clark, I really don't want to say something that I'll regret later," Chloe said softly. Then her face hardened. There was still some fire in her. "On second thought, I do. Maybe this dance didn't mean anything to you but it sure did to me! I'm moving this summer, Clark. Would it have been so much to ask that you give me one night, one night, where you paid attention to me? Couldn't you have given me that one memory to cherish, something special to remember you by? I just wanted the illusion that someone, not a freak of the week, not a mutant, that someone cared."
Chloe shook her head and breathed deeply before she continued, "You almost succeeded too. This was turning out to be the best night of my life. But you just couldn't get miss perfect Lana Lang out of your head, could you? Damn it, Clark, if you were so worried why couldn't you have taken me with you? That would have at least shown some consideration for my feelings!"
Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? Clark desperately wanted to explain but what was there to say? She was right. He hadn't even talked to her about leaving and he simply did so without any real reason to besides a feeling of concern. He had no excuse. He wanted to beg for Chloe's forgiveness and tell her that he did care and that he never wanted to hurt her. But he did hurt her and nothing he could say would make it up.
Clark watched Chloe walk away quietly. If he needed further proof that the universe hated him, this was it.
~*~
"Mom! Dad!" Clark called as he headed toward the house. He had half- walked, half-sped his way home as his concentration kept being broken by a fresh wave of guilt. He was worried about his parents, but he knew they could take care of themselves. He hoped they would have some advice for him when he got home. No doubt it would be obvious parentalisms that he could have come up with himself but it would still be a comfort to hear.
Clark frowned when he found the house empty. The storm had past out of the vicinity a long time ago. His parents wouldn't still be in the storm cellar, would they? He disappeared in a flash when a sudden worry hit him. He was in the storm cellar in seconds. His parents were fine and they were staring at his floating spaceship. Clark stared too at the machine that was currently swinging its beam of light around as if it was searching for something.
"Clark?" He turned to see his mother who had a concerned look upon her face. "We have a problem," she began.
"No kidding!" Clark interrupted with a nod toward the alien ship.
"It's not that. Well, it is that or at least it's connected to that." Martha stopped frustrated and Jonathon jumped in. "What your mother is trying to say is that our cover's blown. We caught someone snooping around down here with a video camera. If I hadn't gone after him, he would have made off with this." He took the tape out of his coat and showed it to his son.
Half-formed thoughts and worries churned through Clark's mind as he struggled to come to terms with his worst nightmare come true. He asked, "Did you know who it was? Why was he even here? What are we going to do?"
"Calm down, son," Jonathon said holding up his hands as if to ward off Clark's panicked questions. He gave a deep sigh then said, "To answer your first question, it was our old friend Roger Nixon. I can't help but think Lex Luthor has something to do with this though Nixon claims otherwise."
"Dad..." Clark said wearily. This constant Lex bashing was getting old. Even if his father did turn out to be right, and he wasn't saying he was, harping on about it wasn't going to do anything. Jonathon must have seen Clark's expression because his shoulder slumped visibly and he said, "You're right. Now's not the time. Okay, your mother and I discussed this and she being the reasonable one in the family," he gave Martha a sly glance, "she has a plan. Honey?"
Martha patted her husband's arm before she turned to Clark. "Right now Nixon has no proof. He'd be laughed out of town if he tried saying anything. That means he'll be back and he will probably bring others. So we fall back on pretending everything's normal."
"The spaceship might cause a problem," Clark said wryly.
"I was going to suggest we hide it," Martha replied looking helplessly at the alien craft. "But I believe you see the difficulty."
Clark stared at the ship for a moment then he resolutely walked toward it. Before his parents could protest, he said, "I'm going to see if there's a way to turn it off. Stand back." With only a slight hesitation, he stuck his hand into the opening and felt around for anything that felt like a button or a lever. There was a flash and Clark stood frozen, enveloped in the strange light emanating from the ship.
Dimly, as if from a far distance, Clark heard his parents shouting in panic and he tried to respond to reassure them but he couldn't. The world around him had blurred until he saw nothing but a kaleidoscope of color. He felt a presence appear in his mind and gently sift through his mind like a comb. Memories replayed in his mind within seconds. Images of him pushing a bully through a door in first grade while Pete watched agape and of his crashing into the bed whenever he woke up floating. Feelings of his elation when he realized he could run like the wind, and of his astonishment when he looked into the girls' locker room and realized that he could see through things. The presence in his mind seemed pleased by this and Clark wanted to ask why, but the restarting of memories drowned him out.
He relived his first kiss with Chloe the first day she was in Smallville. He remembered a time when he was a child and he was scared and his parents comforted him. He felt the anguish of Lana telling him that Whitney made her feel safe. He played basketball with Pete without powers. He was hit by Lex's car and propelled off a bridge. He saved his mother from a swarm of bees. His father gave him his first telescope on his birthday and told him he was a good kid...
Memories ran through his head in no comprehensible order and Clark was beginning to feel overwhelmed when they stopped. It took him a few seconds to fully realize that he was Clark Kent, age 15, and that he was being, for lack of a better word, probed and that he was not being discovered in a field by strangers or being hit by a bus in Metropolis. Fearful that at any second, the process would start again before Clark could get any answers, he shouted into the void, "What are you?"
There was no reply. Clark had the sensation of being pushed and he resisted at first but relaxed as he felt the presence telling him that everything was all right. It wasn't words so far as he could tell but Clark somehow understood that now was not the time for answers. But that time would come soon. He just had to wait.
The world snapped back into focus and Clark stumbled before he caught his balance. Immediately, he was barraged with questions from his mother and father and he waved them down. He said, "It's okay. I'm fine."
But he wasn't really paying attention to them. He was staring at the spaceship that was now lying dormant on the cellar floor. To the naked eye, it didn't seem to be doing anything, but Clark knew whatever intelligence resided in there was thinking and judging. Whatever conclusions it came to would determine what Clark got to know.
For some reason, he felt incredibly disappointed. He thought he was finally going to find some answers and to get so close only to find he had to wait a little longer was extremely frustrating. This really wasn't his day.
