The letter sat on the bed, Clark picked it up, fingering it gingerly, not sure if he wanted to read it now. Charlotte would be returning to the room, once she saw Lex pass her in the hall. He wanted to be alone with Chloe for some reason, even if it just meant he could only be alone with her words. He sighed at the new mix of emotions he felt daily. Things had to come to an end soon–or Clark knew he would create his own ending, even if it was just in his mind. He was feeling stretched and thin lately, and quietly going insane. The one thing he hated was being alone, and while Charlotte offered some companionship, she didn't know him. He wanted the comfort of someone he could share anything with. But who did he ever share everything with? Not even his parents knew everything. Charlotte knocked lightly on the door. Clark couldn't help noticing she seemed a little shaken, though she tried to hide it. He wondered if Lex really was that imposing. It was hard for someone like Clark to imagine.

"Did you..have a good chat?"

"Yeah...he just came to check on me."

Charlotte sat next to him on the bed. "So he knows whats going on?"

Clark just nodded and put Chloe's letter away in his bag.

"How do you know him?"

"Long story."

"Ok….Listen, do you want to see a movie or something? There's a theater about 3 blocks from here that's actually sort of clean. They show second run pictures for 2."

Clark just smiled at her absently, obviously distracted by thoughts of his own.

"Sure, that sounds nice."

They walked down the street together after the movie, Clark held her hand, more as an act of protection than affection, or so he told himself. The only movie playing was a silly comedy, and Clark tried to relax and just enjoy it. He managed to laugh a couple of times, and enjoyed Charlotte occasionally resting her hand on his shoulder and leaning into him, but the nervous tension wouldn't completely leave him. He felt like he was waiting for something terrible.

Charlotte squeezed his hand and looked up at him. "Clark, whats wrong?"

He gave her the same smile he always gave her, shook his head, and changed the subject. "Are you hungry? I think there's a pizza place around here somewhere."

She ignored his offer. "You don't look ok."

He stopped walking and looked at her. "No really, I'm fine."

She didn't know why she wanted to help him, and make him feel better. He didn't look like the sort of person anyone needed to help. Maybe it was because she knew that his life would change forever tomorrow, maybe even end. She had no idea what those men had in store for him, but even in her brief dealings with them, she knew it wouldn't end well. She'd be instructed to complete her task tomorrow. Tomorrow she'd be saying goodbye to Clark forever, and tonight she wanted him to feel safe. Though she had no idea how to make that happen. The streets around them were dark, and lifeless, though dozens of people milled about. She knew these streets well. They'd become her home recently, and after tomorrow, she hoped with the money she was promised she'd be able to leave them and everyone behind forever. Money wasn't what motivated her to take on this "assignment". A very nice Mr. Luthor, who she mistakenly thought was just another pompous business man, and tried to rob, informed her, her very life depended on completely the task satisfactorily. At the very least he would send her to prison for the theft. Apparently Clark had only two weaknesses, and she was one of them–or girls like her. She still wasn't sure what that meant. She didn't understand any of it, and she learned quickly not to ask too many questions.

"Clark, I realize you don't like to talk about things...I don't either, but really, at this point what do either of us have to lose? "

"I know...I just don't want to put you in danger"

"You don't have to worry about me Clark."

"I do."

She looked directly into his eyes, noticing for the first time, small flecks of blue and brown mixed in with the green. The sudden tension between them was palpable.

"Things happen pretty quickly when you don't have anyone or anything else don't they?"

Clark was about ask what she was talking about, but he knew. He had nothing to gain by playing dumb.

"I guess its human nature. And I'm beginning to feel like I can't afford to waste any time."

"Clark?"

"Yes.."

"Lets just go grab a couple of slices and go back to the room."

He picked up her hand again. "Ok." He smiled for real this time.

"Why is it every time I watch this show, no matter how many times I've seen it, I still laugh?"

"It's the genius of Seinfeld I guess."

"I guess.." Clark turned his head to look at her. "Are you still hungry? I never seem to be able to get enough to eat."

Charlotte laughed, "Why don't you just call room service?"

"Of course, why didn't I think of that! So, do you want Lobster thermidor or filet mignon?"

She laughed even harder. "Aren't you the gourmet?"

"Too many years hanging around Lex I guess."

"Lex Luthor, he was the one that showed up earlier wasn't he?"

"Yeah.."

"Long story right?"

Clark smiled a little. The night had grown cold, and the motel maintenance person had obviously fallen asleep drunk again and left the radiators turned up to high. So despite the rapidly dropping temperatures outside, it felt like a hot, stifling desert in their room. Clark shifted uncomfortably on his bed. Though he was impervious to most changes in temperature, the tight air made him feel like he was suffocating. He still wore his jeans, and he wished more than anything he could simply strip them off and lay around in his boxers. Charlotte had found comfort in one of his t-shirts that swallowed her small frame. It hung well below her waist, making the need for bottoms unnecessary. Clark noticed how lovely her dark hair looked in his bright red t-shirt.

"Clark, you must be dying, why don't you take your jeans off..I won't care, boxers are longer than most swimsuits anyway."

"Not mine."

"I'll keep my back to you all night...my god, I've never met a guy more shy."

"I'm not shy..just polite."

"Well stop being polite, maybe I just want to see you in your boxers."

She laughed heartily when she got the reaction she wanted. The bright crimson made its way across his cheeks. He glanced back at her; he had no idea why she was suddenly flirting with him, and he decided to remain calm–cool even. Lots of girls flirted with him, this was no different. It didn't matter that they were alone in a hotel room and she was only wearing one of his t-shirts..this could be any hallway in Smallville High, right?.. But that moment they shared on the streets, after the movie; Clark felt like kissing her, picking her up and just kissing her, but of course he didn't, he never did anything like that...He decided to be brave for once and turned around and looked at her.

"No such luck."

She laughed and leaned on his back. His long frame was stretched the length of the bed, and images from the small television flickered against his face.

"What are you afraid of...I've seen boys in their boxers and less before."

Clark raised his eyebrow, but remained silent, turning his attention back to the television, but she saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Clark...there's only the two of us..there's no reason why we shouldn't give each other some comfort."

She wanted to be close to him, as close as humanly possible in his last hours. She wanted to give him something to hold on to. But she knew it was more about her needs. Charlotte was terrified and she wanted one night of peace. His body looked so strong, she just wanted to crawl into it and pretend that nothing could ever harm either of them.

She tugged gently at his jeans. "Clark..?"

He turned completely around. "We're not having sex Charlotte." He said it quietly and simply, looking her directly in the eyes.

She searched his face to see if he really meant it; he did. "Ok..but could we lie back on the bed together..just hold me and tell me about the place you came from; your home."

Clark sat up and laid the other way, so she could lie in his arms. She nuzzled against his warm chest, loving the feel of it rising and falling with each breath.

"Why do you want to know about my home?" After on a slight hesitation, he let his fingers entwine in her dark curls.

"I don't know..I just imagine it was a nice place.."

Clark smiled. "It was..it still is... I grew up on a farm..in a small town not too far from here. It was just me, and my Mom and Dad, we all worked the farm together. I know it must seem very boring to you, and it probably is..but it's the one place I've always felt safe...until..recently."

She snuggled closer against him. "Tell me about your parents."

She felt a small fissure forming in his wall, She knew she should probably stop, but she wanted him to go on, she wanted the wall to completely fall apart.

"My parents...my parents are great. They adopted me when I was about three...my mother couldn't have children of her own. But they always made me feel as if I was just as much a part of them as if I'd shared the same DNA. They give up so much for me..they never complain...they never..make me feel..." Clark felt the swell of emotion pressing against his chest, he fought it hard, he didn't feel like being weak now, he couldn't afford it.

"Make you feel like what.?"

Clark looked down at her, his eyes brimming with tears, he felt like he couldn't hold on anymore. It was too quiet in the room, and they were too close. Just for a moment he needed to let go, to let someone else hold him up for once.

It came out in almost a whisper.

"Like a burden."

He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the pillow. Tears fell from beneath his lids, and his whole body shook with the effort of trying not to sob. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head onto her shoulder. She held him as tightly as she could manage, as he clung to her as everything he'd been holding back for weeks came pouring out of him. She stroked his hair as he sobbed against her shoulder. There was no need to say anything, she knew she only had to hold him. She felt his composure slowly returning as he loosened his grip on her. His head swam, and he couldn't think straight. There was nothing but pain and bitterness. He ached for his old life back. He didn't want to be here, now in this room, not even with Charlotte. He wanted every simple, insignificant thing he'd ever taken for granted before. More tears fell, as he realized he may never have any of it ever again.

He fell back against the pillow, as tears silently ran out of the corners of his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, not moving. Charlotte bent over and kissed his face, wiping his stained cheeks. He looked up at her with pools of blue-green, and slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his. The kiss was a desperate one, he didn't want to feel the pain anymore. She gave in, knowing she'd do just about anything for him in this moment. She pulled his shirt up over his head, and began unbuckling his jeans. She glanced quickly at his face to see if he wanted her to stop. He only looked at her blankly. After ridding him of his jeans, she laid on top of him, kissing him passionately, a passion he didn't return, it was more about the pain he felt–or didn't want to feel. They spent the evening making each other feel as good as their hands and mouths would allow, stopping just short of taking Clark's virginity. She wanted to leave him that. If he did come out of this alive, she didn't want to take that away from him. She'd taken enough away. Besides, he was too terrified of hurting her to let them go that far. She didn't understand, and he wouldn't explain.