John stood beside Richard, looking through the clear glass at the hospital room with no bed... there was a tank brought in from metropolis a few hours ago in which the ice was placed. John still had a hard time believing all of this. A student frozen in the ice for what seems like years, but still has a higher ambient temperature than the ice itself? That meant he was still alive... theoretically. He would have to be revived. He stood there, watching as the ice was melted away slowly by warmer saline water mixed with some blue chemical. It would only take another two hours or so before he was completely unfrozen, then an identification check could be completed. "Amazing..." he whispered.

Richard looked up to him, sighing a little as he crossed his arms. "It doesn't make sense." he said. Perhaps this... ice boy tried to commit suicide as well. Maybe he was as in just as much pain as Richard with no hope of getting better... if that was the case, why did his attempt fail? Who was god to prevent one of his creations from terminating their existence? It seemed to Richard that, quite fitting so in his mind, was a very cold thing to do.

Clark hated it when it was this cold. He'd left his window open on the wrong night, cool breezes infiltrated his room while he slept, setting up the perfect, unavoidable trap once the man of steel had woken up. Nothing else in Clark's day cause more dread in his mind than pulling off those warm, comfortable blankets... but he did it, of course, giving a slight gasp as he shot up. He got dressed quickly, but not in superspeed. There was no point to superspeeding, after all. The air was still cold whether it was moving quick or slow.

It hit Clark, though, that there was something far more of a dread then a simple cold flash that had already been rectified by clothing himself. He had too many things to worry about... Lionel, in particular, and most especially Chloe and Lana. He'd managed to speak with Lana on the phone, reached some sort of understanding about what had happened when Lionel inhabited his body. She didn't know the truth, of course, but things were still better.

Chloe, though. That was a different matter. She'd called Clark once and given him the directive to go to hell quite some times, after which she refused to answer the phone for Clark. She wouldn't give him the chance to try and work things out. What had Lionel done? If Clark had any idea of what the man had said or done using him, Clark would be in a better situation now. Two minutes with a truthful Lionel would go light-years towards sowing his life back to what it was supposed to be. Lana was going out with Whitney and was happy, Pete and Clark were best friends and happy, and Chloe and Clark had a budding relationship that could have worked out. There was nothing to speak of concerning Jor El or his inner demons unleashed or mental transferences.

About three hours later Clark walking down the halls of Smallville High, trying to make it to his locker with as little interaction with others as he possibly could. His mind was busy at work, of course, trying desperately to come up with something to tell Chloe... it was rather impossible, though. There was only one possible way to explain, and that was to tell her the truth. A rush of fear went through his head... Pete had flipped out, he'd gotten hurt because of it. He regretted Clark ever telling him. He left Smallville because of it. How would Chloe react? Pete was always loyal to Clark, and in truth, Chloe hadn't been. She'd been hurt in the past and had been unstable. Clark couldn't risk not telling her... especially not unless they were on the best of terms. And, right now, they weren't.

Clark had never seen such a cold face.

Chloe had never seen such a disgusting face.

Revolting. Here he was, the first time seeing her since what he'd said, and he just had a paralyzed look of utter terror on his face. Chloe wasn't sure what she'd expected, though... she'd indulged herself the night before. Reading her poetry in the cafeteria, on his knees, giving her a knife - or gun, just do something. Then she could throw it in his face, find someway to make him suffer. But this way she knew she'd start to crack... here he was, big dumb Clark. The exact opposite of what he was like when he'd hurt her. It seemed odd to Chloe how Clark could be so fundamentally different sometimes... a whole other person besides the brute that had yelled at her in Metropolis or intentionally crushed her heart nights ago. She didn't quite know how to deal with what was happening between them, as even thinking about what he'd said was making her weak... and Chloe couldn't have that. Otherwise she'd give in. She couldn't say anything to Clark, not yet, so she didn't.

Chloe started walking again, moving past Clark without a word, quite easily breaking a five year tradition of at least saying "hello" or "excuse me". Chloe wanted to make it clear that their friendship was over. There was no getting over what he said to her, nothing could make up for it. Not even lies about how he didn't know what he'd said. The very least he could've done was admit the truth!

"Chloe, wait!" he yelled, the girl hearing him running up behind her.

Chloe stopped dead, narrowing her eyes as she turned around to face her former best friend. Wait? How could he tell her to wait? Even out of context the thought was shocking. She'd been waiting for him to give her a chance for years. She'd thought she'd finally had it, but again, he ruined that for her.

"Chloe, I can explain..."

Sullivan fumed. Explain? She stepped forward to him, looking up... and even in looking up she looked quite threatening. "I'm sure you have a wonderfully pitiful excuse, Clark," she said. It surprised her how little anger was in her voice... she wanted more, but she supposed this cool emotionless tone was what he deserved more. "But it'll be the same as always. You're just going to say that you were somebody else."

Clark gulped, shaking his head... he leaned downwards and touched her shoulders, trying to calm her down. "No, this time I really was somebody else..."

Chloe laughed. Not out of humour, per say, but she had to do something else than cry in front of him. So that was it. "So the first time was really you? Oh, I see. This time is okay because you lied about the last time." she said. "Okay Clark, I get it. Thanks for explaining."

"-That's not what I meant! Chloe, please listen-"

"-No!" she screamed, using her hands to force his off of her shoulders. He had no right to touch her anymore; he didn't have the right to hug or say hello to her. She took in several deep breaths, regaining her icy composure. "Don't talk to me." she said, shaking her head as she walked off. Chloe heard Clark following yet again... didn't he know when to stop? Chloe found what she was looking for, the Torch office, so she dove in and locked the door behind her. She let her back fall against the door, sliding down with closed eyes and a sob. She held her hand up to shield her eyes from the invisible occupants of the room, ashamed of it. She didn't want to cry over Clark. He'd done something horrible to her, she had no intention of rebuilding a friendship that must have never existed in his mind.

She sat there for what seemed like hours, losing all perception of time as she just sat. She needed to erase Clark. Chloe lowered her hand and stood up, shaking just a little as she looked around the room. Her computer. She quickly sat down in front of it, taking it out of sleep and moving to her pictures folder. Lana had found her pictures of Clark and her on their first date, discovered that she still liked Clark. That wasn't true anymore, Chloe wouldn't let herself feel anything more for him. She loaded up the pictures one by one, staring at it a good few seconds before clicking "Yes" on the delete prompt.

A few minutes later, when Chloe had just smiled at passing the halfway mark of erasing the images, was interrupted by a knock at the door. She looked up, giving something of a scowl. "Clark?" she asked, making it quite clear that she wasn't happy to see him at all.

"No. It's Principal Marchen." said the voice, clearly who he said he was. Nobody had such a fast but low-pitched voice as Marchen had.

Chloe got up and opened the door, quickly wiping her cheeks dry... her eyes would be terribly swollen, but she didn't care. She unlocked the door and opened it, inviting him in, making sure that after he was clear that she'd close and lock it again. "What can I do for you?" she asked, moving herself to stand in front with a light, weak smile.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Sullivan?" he asked curiously, tilting his head as he examined her swollen eyes.

"Allergies." she said, laughing softly.

Mr. Marchen nodded, sighing a little as he raised and crossed his arms. "I just wished to inform you that the hospital has called the school about the found student, a former attender of Smallville Highschool. I was wondering if you could prepare a new front page with an article about this. Morale has been noticeably down, I was hoping that this could... lighten spirits, I suppose."

Chloe nodded and really smiled, glad for something to do to take her mind off of Clark. She walked back to her computer, closing her pictures and grabbing a notepad and pen. "I'll go to the hospital." she said.

"Good, good. There will probably be some family there. Just don't, under any circumstances, make them upset." he said. "If you do try and find any information from the student's parents, just ask for the Kelvins."

Chloe dropped her notebook and pen, looking up with alarm. "What's the student's name?"

"Sean Kelvin."