Disclaimer- Love the show, but it seriously needs some more TC, so my imagination is left to come up with some- and here is the product. It's all fantasy, so don't sue, k?
A/N: Second story to add on here. I'm only going to put finish works of mine because I always hate reading a story, then having to wait and hope that it gets finished sometime in the near future. This way, you'll know it does. I won't take flames seriously, I'll just laugh and take amusment in them. As said in disclaimer, this is a TC story, don't bother reading it if you know you don't like that sort of thing- why waste your time and mine?
All the writing in bold are lyrics from Beautiful Creature's song 1 AM.
Chapter 1
Clark sat dejectedly on the park picnic table; all alone. Pete was playing with Greg on the swings and it looked as if they both forgotten he even existed.
Clark sighed, miserable. Having his special abilities seemed to have more negative attributes than positive ones. He couldn't play with all of his friends on the playground, and his parents hardly let him go over to anyone's house. Not to mention always having to know he was different; he wasn't the same. He would never, ever be the same; he was 'special' as his parents put it. He knew the truth though- he was a freak. His classmates had even said as much, among other names. He blamed it solely on his 'gifts'. 'More like curses,' thought Clark bitterly.
As Clark watched all of the other kids play on the playground he failed to notice the school's bully charging towards him.
"Hey, Freak!"
Clark whipped his head around, used to answering to those kinds of snide remarks.
Mark, the bully, laughed maliciously at how he answered to the names, "Why don't you go play with your other freaky friends?"
"They aren't freaks!" Clark declared, indignant.
"Really? Then why do they hang out with you, Freak?"
Clark's only reply was silence, he couldn't think of one good reason they had of being his friend. Mark started to laugh, and knowing he had to say something he quickly squeaked out, "I don't know."
This only made Mark's laughter grow, and Clark shrunk back against the names surely to come.
Later that day Clark still felt the sting from the words he had received earlier on the playground, he never told his parents or friends though. They didn't need to worry about him; he couldn't get hurt. Though he had no idea emotional pain and physical pain were two totally different matters.
"Clark, Honey, are you okay? You seem upset," Martha gently prodded her son for information on the reason her only son was in such a demeanor.
Clark snapped out of dream-like state and replied, "Oh, sorry. I'm fine."
Martha obviously didn't believe her son and gave him a look relaying her thoughts on his answer. Clark simply looked away.
Martha could tell he didn't want to talk about it, and wouldn't if not pressed. But she decided to wait until dinner to discuss it. That was, when she had back-up.
Before dinner, Clark sat in his room staring aimlessly at the wall next to his bed. He tried not to think of all the horrible things in his life, and focus on the good things that had happened to him- like being adopted by the Kents, and being able to actually help with the farm because of his powers, but right now was one of those times he just couldn't get all the names he was called daily out of his head.
Before he could contemplate his life's faults any further his mother called him down to dinner, he thanked her in his head as he ran normal-speed downstairs to join his parents for dinner.
When he reached the table, he realized his parents were both looking at him; mom had told. Sighing, Clark sat down and tried to pretend he didn't notice.
"So, how was your guy's day?" he questioned, trying to get the topic off of him.
"Fine. Just fine. Yours?" his father immediately put the spot light back on him.
Squirming under it, Clark decided just to play it off normally, "Normal; same as always."
"Clark, I know something is bothering you. When you come home from school you never seem to be yourself. I want to know what has been happening at school, or do you want me to call the school and set up a meeting with your teacher?" Martha threatened; she was going to get it out of her son one way or another.
Clark looked wide-eyed at his mother; she wasn't playing around.
Chapter 2
"Well- I-" he wasn't sure what exactly to say. If his parents found out about all the teasing he received he was afraid they would set up a meeting with his teacher anyway. But if he didn't say anything then they would as well; there seemed to be no winning. He finally decided to lie. "Well, it's just I've been kind of worried that.... that if I wasn't good enough in school that you wouldn't want me anymore." It was a childish lie, but he thought he had acted the part well enough, and it would surely throw them off the real problem, and this problem didn't have a need for a parent-teacher conference. Though he was sure he was in for a marathon of speeches, none of which he was looking forward to.
Jonathan and Martha looked to each other and then to their son. Was this really the problem? It seemed that he was telling the truth; maybe a bit too easily, and not quite enough emotion was put into the confession, but the problem seemed to fit how he was acting and of course the age. So, they decided on giving him a few reassuring talks; they would surely be good for him.
The next day of school Clark was once again sitting at the park, alone. Though this time he was on a bench closer to the playground area, and farther away from teachers. The teachers usually congregated around the school's park entrance, and today was no different.
One thing different though was that no one had approached Clark yet, and this perplexed him. Usually by this time at least someone had come up to him and harassed him in one way or another, but no one had yet. 'Maybe they've gotten tired of teasing me?' Clark thought hopefully, though knowing it was too good to be true.
At that exact moment the same bully as before, Mark, came up to him once again. Though this time he was surrounded by other kids, whom Clark had all been teased by before, only this time they looked much more intimidating. Clark didn't say anything, only stared up wearily at them, waiting for them to say whatever they were going to.
"Hey, um, Kent," Mark started out.
Clark was astonished that he even knew his last name, and had let alone actually called him by that. "Hi?" he asked questioningly.
"Yeah, well... me and a bunch of the other guys have been feeling really sorry for you and all... so we were wondering if you'd like to go over to the woods over there and you know, hang out."
Clark wasn't too sure, but it seemed like he wouldn't have to worry about exposing his powers just 'hanging out', and even though the woods weren't part of the playground's designated area, it was close enough. Plus, he had never been in the woods.
The whole idea seemed too good to be true, but he had to at least try, "Umm... sure, I guess."
Mark smiled; it was hard to tell whether or not it was genuine. He quickly started off towards the spot and the other guys followed, walking off towards an area of the woods where the teachers couldn't see, and Mark explained that it was way cooler if they couldn't- even if they weren't doing anything wrong.
The others didn't say anything, even when they got there. It was just a clearing not too deep in. But as Clark walked into it he started feeling sick. He noticed the strange green rocks, that he had just learned were the meteor rocks, were glowing. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain he felt all over his body, and decided he had to tell everyone that he wasn't feeling very good and should probably go sit down for a while when he felt someone punch him in the stomach. He collapsed in agony.
"Look! I got this wimp down in one punch!" Clark heard Mark cry.
He hoped that that it would satisfy him, but he was obviously wrong. He felt someone kick him, and he wasn't sure whom, but heard a different voice laugh when he moaned from the intense pain he was feeling.
His head started pounding harder, and he when he tried to open his eyes all he saw was someone's foot rushing to connect with some part of his body, so he learned it was better just to squeeze his eyes shut and hope it was all over soon.
But it went on for what seemed like forever, someone's foot always connecting with his now fragile body, and him groaning. Once he had even dared to plead for them to stop, "Please, please stop. I'm sorry for whatever it was I did; just please, please stop. You're hurting me so much; please stop."
His cries went unanswered, and they eventually broke down into complete sobs. It wasn't just the beating that hurt so much; it was the rocks that caused his pain as well. It seemed they had, at one point, picked them up and a few people had thrown some at him, and now they lay even closer to him. His veins throbbed even harder now, and he pleaded with his body just to stop the horrid pain he was feeling.
Thankfully they all heard a faint yell in the distance that recess was over and it was time for everyone to come inside. Everyone in the group snickered and he heard them all run off towards the voice. After a few minutes he didn't feel as much pain and opened his eyes. He saw his clothes were ripped up and he was even bleeding in some places. This really scared him because he had never bled before, only gotten slight bruises that healed rather quickly. Plus, he had never been around the meteor rocks this long, and was starting to worry if he would be able to get up; he still hurt so much.
He tried to at least sit up; he really had to get away from these meteors. He had never been alone with them before, the few times he had ever encountered them his mom or dad had been there and would either throw them away or get him away from them as soon as possible- which had only been a few minutes at the most. Another matter was, he wasn't sure exactly how they affected him, would he die if he was around them more than a few minutes? Would he never get better if he was around them too long? How long was too long? All these thoughts zoomed around in his head, but one stuck out- he had to get out of here.
But he couldn't even sit up, let alone walk. The cuts were starting to sting wildly and he was getting even dizzier by the minute, if only someone was here with him. But no one, except for the bullies, knew where he was. He dimly chided himself for ever coming out here before everything went black.
Chapter 3
Clark awoke in the same spot, and immediately all the pain came rushing back. At first he couldn't figure out why he was in the woods and in such horrific pain, but the memories slowly started coming back. He groaned and tried to concentrate on finding a way out. He couldn't get up still and sitting up wasn't even an option. With nothing to loose he mustered up enough strength to yell, and that he did.
Jacked up
Cracked up
Smacked across my face
Pulled down
put down
kicked out of my place
He yelled for a full minute and no one replied. He wondered how long he had been out and had no clue, it could have only been for a few minutes, so maybe no one was looking for him. It did seem a little darker though, but maybe that was his imagination. Someone would notice his absence, Pete and Greg had to at least, and when he didn't come home his parent's would surely realize something was wrong. They would come to the school looking for him and they would tell them the last time anyone saw him was at the playground. Then they would come out here looking and they'd hear him yelling. Everything was going to be okay, he assured himself.
Loneliness is just a frame of mind
Your voice it falls on deaf ears
and your class is on the line
A few hours later he thought he heard some voices and weakly called out. As they came closer he could tell it wasn't any of teachers and definitely not his parents, they sounded much younger.
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feelin' down in the dirt again
getting burned again,
Where the Hell are you?!
All of a sudden someone shouted his name but he couldn't call back, the dizziness was once again getting too much for him and started to black out, he heard people rush around him and shout that he was dead; they'd killed him.
He tried to stay awake and tell them he wasn't dead, he was alive. He faintly heard someone start sobbing and wanted to help them, but he was having a hard time fighting the darkness overcoming him.
Oooh bitin' on my lip
It's got your bleeding got me screamin' your name!
Strippin' down my skin
You got me dreamin' 'bout the rats in your cage
"Kent, come on Kent, you have to fight. Damn, I didn't know we beat you up this bad..." the voice he placed as Mark's slowly trailed off.
Clark could feel all his energy draining and knew he had to tell them to get him away from the rocks or what they feared would actually come true.
Looking for the light inside your eyes
your smile cuts like razors
and your promises are lies
Mustering up all his strength yet again, but this time trying harder than he ever had before he whispered one last plead before he couldn't fight any longer, and the darkness swallowed him up whole, "Please... please get me out of here."
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feelin' down in the dirt again
getting burned again,
Where the Hell are you?!
Mark made out his plead and didn't think twice before picking him up and beginning to carry him out of the area. The others were too shaken up to even ask why he was suddenly taking the action so they just silently followed.
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feelin' down in the dirt again
getting burned again,
Where the Hell are you?!
Mark emerged from the woods, still carrying Clark, and laid him down on the bench he was sitting on just earlier that day, which now seemed a lifetime ago. He silently prayed that some miracle would be performed and he would wake up and be healed. Everyone stared intently at him, but no such miracle happened.
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feelin' down in the dirt again
getting burned again,
Where the Hell are you?!
"We should... we should call his parents," one girl piped in, sounding as though at any given minute she would burst into tears.
The rest of the group nodded their heads in agreement. Mark looked to the girl and suggested she go in and do it, but not revealing how he got this way.
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend
Feelin' down in the dirt again
getting burned again,
Where the Hell are you?!
Clark felt much better as soon as they left the area, but he still felt incredibly sick. He instantly thought he must have been them around them too long; he was going to die. He felt himself being lowered onto something hard and felt all eyes on him. Though, no matter as much as he wanted to open them and shout to everyone that he was okay, he couldn't. He was still too weak. He listened to see if anyone was going to get his mom or dad; they would know what to do.
1 A.M. and I'm cold again
I'm alone again and I need a friend.
Chapter 4
Martha Kent was in the kitchen baking a pie for her two boys. She loved to see the look on their faces when they came through the door and smelt the pie; it gave her such a delight. If her husband and son were happy, how could she not be? Lately though, Clark hadn't been his normal self, and that worried her along with her husband.
Just then the phone began ringing and she rushed over to answer it, "Hello?"
She listened for a few minutes, and with every passing second her face got more stressed. By the time she hung up it looked as if she were going to burst into tears.
Rushing out to find Jonathan and tell him they needed to get to the school, she wondered how this happened, how Clark had gotten to be in such a condition. He never got sick and he hardly ever got a scratch- unless he was around those damn meteors, they always made him sick and weak. It hit her like a ton of bricks. There was a meteor hit close by the school; some must have been around.
Jonathan saw his wife coming rushing up to him in such a state he didn't know what to think, "What's wrong, Martha?"
"I- I just got a call from the school. They said a group of kids heard him-him yelling for help. He was in the woods near the playground and- and he's not doing too well apparently. I think it was the meteors, Jonathan."
He immediately took action and headed towards the truck, not even bothering to reply.
They arrived at the school in record time and dashed to the playground area. Heading towards a cluster of kids around a bench they figured that's where he was. They were right, at first glance it would look his if he was unconscious or dead, but at closer inspection you could hear his breathing and make out that his eyes were slightly open.
Clark saw his parents coming and instantly knew everything was going to be all right, they always knew what to do.
Jonathan kneeled down close to his son, and whispered loving words to his son. He then started on evaluating the damage his son had acquired. It looked like he had been badly beaten up. He looked accusingly at the older kids around him; Clark was in no condition to be yelling for help. But that was for another time, he could see flecks of meteor rocks all over his son, and knew he wouldn't heal around them.
Picking up his one and only son he motioned for his wife to follow. She responded swiftly and they both headed for their truck, never saying a word. Clark had his eyes squeezed shut and tried not to think of how the car ride home was going to be.
After settling Clark into the back seat of the truck snuggly and helping Martha into the seat next to his son he jumped into the driver's seat and started up the vehicle.
No one was looking forward to the ride home; there was no way they could get all the meteor flecks off. They needed to get him home and fast, but they knew all movement was painful for their top priority- their son.
Roads in Smallville weren't all paved, especially near their farm. He wasn't sure how much pain this was going to cause. He briefly thought about having Martha drive the truck and him carrying Clark when they came to those roads, but quickly dismissed the thought- it would take too long.
Martha sat with her son, trying to hold him still. He moaned against his will several times, but for the most part didn't seem to be in too much pain. Once they got home, everything was going to be all right. Leaning down she whispered motherly words into her baby's ear. She loved him more than he would ever know.
They came across a particularly large bump, and Clark tried his hardest not to cry, but he couldn't hold it in. A tear followed by another slipped out of his eyes, he desperately wished he had the strength to wipe them away before his mom saw. He was suppose to be strong, not a crybaby. This only made him cry more and soon he felt his mother's embrace tighten. He no longer heard the soothing words she spoke, only the sounds of his own sobs.
They finally arrived home after what seemed like an eternity. Jonathan pulled the truck so that it was directly in front of the door. Carrying Clark upstairs was the plan both he and Martha held in their head. They needed to get him into a bath to wash all of the meteor particles off.
Martha quickly grabbed some towels and started taking Clark's clothes, he was barely conscious now, they figured from all the pain. Jonathan had turned the bathtub's faucet on to a luke-warm, figuring any warmer would seem like it was boiling.
Martha nodded her head as soon as Clark was ready to be put into the tub. He lifted his now totally vulnerable son and slowly lowered him into the water. They let him soak for a minute or two, getting used to the temperature change. Then she took a washcloth and put a little soap on it, she hadn't done this in a while.
Gently scrubbing her son was like old times, bringing back old memories, except this time he wasn't squirming around or playing with his bath toys. He hadn't said a word, and it was worrying the mother along with the father; though he was trying his best not to show it.
Getting him dressed into some pajamas seemed to liven Clark up a bit, he said he was just tired. They all breathed a sigh of relief; he was going to be fine. They put him to bed and took turns staying the night with him- just to be sure.
"Hi, Mom, Dad. Thanks," Clark said sheepishly the next morning. He knew he wasn't getting away with this one.
The End.