Clark closed his locker and turned down the hallway, everything turning to a blur as he moved through the crowds of people... they all seemed to stand still. Unlike all of the times before, however, this wasn't because of superspeed relativity. Clark was no longer concerned with everyone else, only one person: Chloe. Like so many times before he'd screwed things up, but unlike so many times before it wasn't him. For once he could honestly say that it was no part of him that caused his friends so much pain. Any other guy would have a fair chance to at least try and figure out how to solve the problem... but the field was unfair for Clark. It always was.

Somewhere between his locker and fourth year English he had subconsciously changed his path towards the Torch. He stood near the door, staring in... the door was unlocked, meaning that Chloe was inside. Clark was forcing himself not to eavesdrop on her and finally find out what Lionel had done. Such a thing was immoral, unfair. But it would make it more fair for Clark. Eavesdropping to find out what "he" had already done wasn't wrong, was it? Of course not. Clark held his side to the wall, closing his eyes and focusing on what he knew was Chloe's voice...

"-completely different, Lana. Everything was off. He didn't sit the right way, stand the right way, or even talk right. And... I know Clark would never do that to me." said the reporter, slouching herself back in her seat to look up at her best friend who was standing over her shoulder.

"Well neither of us thought that Clark would run away to Metropolis, but he did Chloe. Let's face it, we both know Clark isn't-"

"I know that, Lana. But nothing short of a Smallvillian myth could explain Clark's multiple personalities." she sighed, shaking her head. She wanted to stop thinking about Clark. He had consumed her life so completely yet again; he had made it so that nothing else bothered her. Chloe wouldn't have such mental paralysis. She decided to immediately take her mind off of the farm boy. Leaning forward to type at her computer's keyboard she stared up at an Internet media transfer media that was displayed on the screen. "A certain deputy friend of mine was willing to send me the video to that robbery last night."

Lana blinked, looking quite confused as she knelt int to watch the meter... within moments it would be finished. "Why're you looking into a robbery?"

"Security tapes are confidential for the remainder of an investigation. Judge Lawrence pronounced this tape to be permanently sealed... they're saying it's a normal robbery, but why lock up a normal robbery?" she questioned, grinning just that slight bit. That smile turned into complete shock as she saw the grainy, green-tinted video tape... the boy was freezing all of the jewels, shattering glass? Taking nothing? Who would rob a jewelery store and not take any jewels? "What the?" she asked, craning her head as the figure moved for the camera.

"Who is that?"

Chloe blinked, pausing the video as the boy's face became fully visible. "Sean... no, that's impossible. He was in the hospital all night. I was there, I came back this morning. There's police officers at his door. There's no way Sean broke out and back in..."

Clark pulled his ear away from the wall. There was only one person that could mimic the appearance of another... but Tina Greer was dead. Clark had seen her dead, had attended her burial. He'd X-Rayed to make sure that the deformed skeleton was deep in the ground, there in it's final resting position; He'd X-Rayed to make sure that Lana would never be attacked by one of her former best friends again. And Tina never took another's abilities. But, then again, she had never mimicked someone with mutant powers... maybe they were also copied? In any case, why would Tina make a trip from the ashes to frame Sean?

Clark looked up at a clock. He'd missed ten minutes of English, so he'd be marked as late. Some things were more important than class. In a moment's thinking he headed for the building's exit for Smallville's graveyard... if Tina were still alive and running around, she could pose a danger to Lana and any number of others.

Richard knelled in front of the tombstone with closed eyes. Those unseeing eyes stared at the ground before the tombstone to let the rain his his neck and traverse down his back under his shirt... it pleased his spine, it cleansed it. Letting the pouring rain wash over you was a hell of a lot better than crying. Richard had proved it to himself. Crying was just a simple form of weakness, an attempt to cleanse your mind with main-made raindrops. Richard decided it far better to let divine rain wash his mind free of all of those dark thoughts. I might be divine... it might not be. Richard wasn't sure of a Godly design or an Atheistic chaos. Or Godly chaos and Atheistic design... interesting to think about, Philosophy was. And all completely pointless. Whether or not there was a God had no effect on the fact that Richard's mother rested six feet below where Richard knelled.

Richard prayed. Not to God, not a random chance that caused the universe to come into being, but instead the only material thing that ever did exist to the teenager. His mother. She'd been taken so quickly, so suddenly... he hadn't had his chance to tell her all of the things he needed to. Gently her lowered a hand, just pressing his five fingertips against the earth on her grave site. he clenched his eyes and teeth and thinking with all of this might. He concentrated so hard on his words it made his temples hurt. He needed her to hear his prayers, to know who he was growing into. To know what he was dithering into. Somehow having a felt pain made the prayer real; the pain was tangible evidence that his efforts were having an effect.

A noise.

He pulled his hand away and looked up... there was a figure in the woods coming into the graveyard. Richard stood up and bolted, cutting between grave sites to escape the new presence's sights. Richard didn't want anybody to take pity on him. He didn't want them to take pity on him, even in their thoughts... he ran and ran, bolting and jumping over the west fencing.

Clark decided to enter a way other than the main gates. Teenagers visiting grave sites was never a normal thing. He cut though a bit of the woods, coming in from the north... he was still partially in the woods when he saw Tina's gravestone. From a distance he squinted, forcing his focus to go past the ground... he focused inside the wooden coffin, showing Tina's morphed skeleton. But it was not in the same resting position. Her hands were not held on her stomach, her body was not so neatly straight... it was mangled, like she'd had a seizure and rested again. Tiny bones covered the coffin, her right hand was even disconnected. What had caused such a violent disturbance?

Kent heard a noise. He lifted his head, stepping out from the woods to peer through the rain... he saw a figure in front of a tombstone, kneeling down with a palm to the ground, his body writhing in some sort of pain. Was the figure grieving? Clark was about to flee. Clark was about to, but he didn't... he'd helped Lana and talked with her enough for him to able to at least help someone in trouble.

Clark came out of the woods and showed quite a confused expression as the figure darted up and bolted for the fence. Why was he running away? Clark jogged at normal speed towards the man but soon gave up. If he didn't want to be helped then Clark had no right to impose himself. Kent just stood there, still keeping an eye on the figure as he left over the east fencing.