Author: tyrant84
Part: seven
Rating: PG otherwise known as K+
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but here you go : )
.-.-.-.-.-
"That was Lex, right?" Chloe turned to Pete as he caught up to her, and the flashy car pealed down the street.
"Who else has a car like that in Smallville? Why'd he leave so fast?"
"I don't know. I was hoping he'd know where Clark is. I haven't seen or heard from him. I mean, everyone skips once in a while, but it's Clark. And he's been absent two days in a row. When's the last time Clark was out without calling one of us first?"
"Clark was absent again? Man, I thought you called his house yesterday. Didn't Mrs. Kent say anything?"
"No, she didn't know where he was. She said that she'd call me back, but I've got nothing so far."
"Are you sure he's not here?"
"Pete, I haven't seen him in any classes we have together, and he's not here for lunch." She looked pointedly at him. "What do you think?"
"You're right. Clark? Skipping a meal? Something must be wrong." Pete grinned as Chloe laughed and hit his shoulder. "Seriously, Chloe, call his house again later. Maybe he's actually gotten sick, for once in his life."
"Yeah right. Clark never gets sick. No. Something's up."
"Chloe, everything's a big story to you! He's just sick." Pete watched Chloe as her face went from perturbed to resolved. There was no way she was going to let this go. "Come on, we'll have time to eat and check the office to see if Mrs. Kent called him in sick if we go back now."
Chloe looked back down the street Lex had driven down. Maybe the office would have some answers for her. She turned to follow Pete back into the school. If Clark hadn't been called in, then something was up. Something had to be up.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"He'll never wake up."
"We don't know that, Martha!" Jonathan yelled desperately.
"The doctors already told us. You were there. There's too much damage. Clark won't ever wake up."
"But it's Clark. He might… maybe there's something different in him. We don't know how his body works. What it needs. Maybe he's okay. He's… he'll survive this."
"Survive? Jonathan, our son shot himself. This isn't some accident and it's not another meteor reaction. This isn't something we can stop. You want to talk about maybe? Maybe he didn't want to wake up." Martha was standing next to the bed as she talked to Jonathan. From his seat next to Clark, Jonathan looked up at his wife as if he couldn't recognize her.
"This is Clark, Martha. He'll survive this. He will. You just need to have some faith in him. God, you won't even look at him! How do you know what's going to happen if you can't even fucking look at him!" Jonathan stared at her for a long, quiet moment before a resigned shadow cast over his features. He turned away to look fixatedly at Clark, clutching onto his son's hand all the harder s if he would slip away through his fingers. As if letting go would be saying he would never come back.
Without another word, Martha walked to the door and looked back at her husband once before stepping out of the room. After she heard the click as the door shut, she turned to lean against the wall in the hallway. Martha stood rigidly for a moment, but she couldn't stay standing. A sob escaped her mouth. One after the other, they slowly overwhelmed her until her knees gave out. Curling into herself and the wall, she thought about her family. How could Jonathan not see? Clark had wanted this. He'd only made it so obvious.
Her hands came up, trying to hold back the barrage of sobs, the rush of tears. Why didn't Jonathan realize? Clark couldn't, didn't even want to wake up. He'd been that unhappy, that distressed. Clark had made his decision, and they couldn't take it back. No matter how much Jonathan fought it. No matter how much she wanted to. Why even try? It was hard enough finding him like that. Why make Jonathan feel hope only to rip it away over and over again?
Why force him through so much pain?
Martha brought her hands down. She had to compose herself. She couldn't give in; she had to be strong. For Jonathan. He couldn't handle this right now. She had to be there for him. For her family.
Family. Oh god, what about her father? She had to tell their relatives. They didn't even know about… no one knew yet. Just Jonathan, her, and Lex. She needed to notify the school. What about Chloe and Pete and Lana? How could she tell them? How did you give that type of news to anyone? Martha had to be strong, but god, all of those people. All those poor, unknowing people.
Oh Clark, I hope those other realities were worse than this. I hope it was worth it. I hope you saw things so horrible, I could never imagine them. They had better be worse than this. I just don't see how anything could be.
Martha stood up and walked back into the room. When she saw Jonathan, she dragged another chair over and took his hand, sitting in a quiet vigil over their son.
