Author's note's:
Thank you to all your wonderful and enthusiastic comments, you really do make me blush! LOL
For the last five pages of Day 11, the offer to anyone new still stands in me sending them to you if you ask. Even if it's 6 months from now.
Now on a more serious note, I was unable to send the ending to day 11 to the following people, either because I couldn't find an e-mail address or the one that showed up didn't work: Kaisu, Kaei Kon, Fox666 and maybe Iceprincess217? Please personally e-mail me and I'll be happy to send them to you! Now on with the next part...
Day Twelve
Through a red haze, a jagged bolt of lightening momentarily lit up the chaos that enveloped him. As Clark took in the entire landscape presented to him, in horror, he recognized that he was standing in the middle of Smallville, which now all lay in blackened ruins. It was gone. The ground beneath his feet once again shook violently from a disturbance from deep within its very core. This was a purely unnatural event, earthquakes didn't hit Kansas. This wasn't real. The supernatural sounding growls of moving debris and sinister hisses of steam added to his decision that this had to be a nightmare. Moving forward, a suffocating heat that burned his lungs only intensified the feeling that he was now in hell. After walking through the unholy desecration, he finally made it to what was left of his parents yellow home.
Abruptly the roof exploded into a spiraling inferno of lava. And in the middle of the super-heated liquid, a woman stood surrounded in a blue glow screaming out in agony, 'LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!'
Clark woke up with a start, lying on his stomach, in a chaotic manner with arms and legs dangling off the sides of the mattress. Instantly hating that he was back home and alone, he smashed his face into the pillow grumbling to himself about having to face the day yet again. And after such a crappy dream like that getting up to face the day sounded like an even less fun idea than putting a chunk of kryptonite down his pants.
Making himself think happier thoughts, he grinned at a very realistic vision of a naked and wanting Lex in his head. Moving a bit, Clark felt his morning erection push into the mattress. It was practically begging to be stroked by Lex, and damn it, that wasn't helping his mood either. Lex. He wanted to be back at the mansion with Lex, not here is his tiny old room.
The beep, beep, beeping alarm clock, should be put out of its misery sooner rather than later.
Before voluntarily stirring to actually get out of bed, he thought he heard the sound of movement in his room and the unusual sensation of being watched made him ponder whether his dream had summoned his mom upstairs or not. For all he knew, he could have been screaming during it.
Turning his head a fraction of an inch he watched as a petite hand turned off the alarm clock on the table next to the side of his bed. Having such dire and bleak dreams sucked big time. Too bad they tended to reflect on his real life as well. 'Real twisted crappy life.'
Clark was caught totally unaware by the familiar female voice that abruptly stated behind him, "You sleep like the dead. That thing has being going off for the last five minutes."
That was not his mom.
He was standing right in Elizabeth's face an eye blink later, wearing only his boxers, trying with no avail to physically touch her. "What have you done to my parents?"
"I haven't done anything to them. Why would you think of me as being such a monster?" She frowned, appearing confused that he'd instantly come to the conclusion that she must have harmed his parents.
"You killed me." Clark spat out. Disheartened to realize that brute force really wasn't going to accomplish anything against her, Clark felt even angrier as he couldn't even lay a finger on her.
"It was intended as a stern warning to leave me alone. One which you obviously ignored, Mr. Clark Kent." Elizabeth tilted her head watching his actions with a trace of amusement.
"You can't just expect me to stand by and do nothing." Pacing like a caged lion Clark sneered, "I've already given you my speech on ethics. And that was my final warning. Get out of my house!" Deciding to try something else, Clark used his heat vision, directly hitting her in the chest with as much powerful force as he could muster.
She took a step back and gasped but otherwise didn't appear injured. Raising an eyebrow, Elizabeth waved her hand in front of herself with a look of absolute amazement. "What are you?"
"The person who's going to stop you."
"That is unnec-"
The room shifted and warped around him, while the nauseous feeling that hit Clark was comparable to all four from yesterday put together times two. Clark dropped to the floor like he'd been beheaded by a guillotine. The pain in his midsection was so severe that Clark thought he'd actually pass out. He could only lie on the floor and to fight just to breathe, Clark groaned clenching his mouth closed and swallowed his own vomit. That was very disgusting. He was determined that he wasn't going to allow her to see how badly she was making him feel. He had to keep some of his dignity intact.
These episodes of pain and vertigo had started around the time he'd first met Elizabeth, and it was too much of a coincidence for Clark to ignore. She had to be causing his nausea somehow. After putting two and two together, he felt stupid to have not realized the connection earlier. What had started out as a minor annoyance could have turned into a tragic flaw.
Tears streamed down the side of his face as he fought to open his eyes. Elizabeth could be doing anything right now while he was in such a helpless state. She could finally decide to finish whatever it was she was planning to do in his very own home. 'God, she's followed me back to Smallville.' Not believing for a second that she was no danger to his parents, Clark forced himself to open his eyes while the rest of his motor functions still refused to comply with his brain's demands.
Surprised, Clark moaned at the vision before him. Elizabeth appeared to have dropped sideways onto the exact spot that he'd last seen her and was currently in the thrones of an agony that seemed to be much greater than his own. Gripping the sides of her head, Clark could see blood like tears weeping out of the sides of her eyes. 'What the hell was going on?'
"Dear Lord!"
His mom had entered his bedroom, and after seeing both him and some strange woman on the floor curled into fetal positions from pain, she was freaking out.
"Clark, what's wrong?" 'Wasn't that a loaded question?' And if he could talk, Clark wasn't quite sure where to begin.
Warm arms wrapped around his body to comfort him, as Clark suffered through the last harsh waves of sickness.
Weakly, Clark grabbed onto his mom and tried to push her away, "Get out of here. She's too dangerous."
Elizabeth began to moan louder behind him as she may have been trying to get up. Not being able to see her, Clark wasn't quite sure what she was doing.
"Who is that woman? And what is she doing in your room?" His mom looked far too determined to stay exactly where she was.
"Please. I can handle this." Feeling a bit stronger, Clark was able to sit up. Seeing that Elizabeth was still on the floor and holding her head, he struggled to stand up.
Needing his mother as a literal crutch, Clark continued to wheeze as his internal organs complained at his every movement. Dry-heaving a couple more times seemed to appease his stomach as it stopped threatening to turn itself inside out.
His mom continued to hold him close, soothingly petting his back while glaring fiercely at the woman in the floor. "How are you feeling now? Are there any rocks on her? Is that why you're feeling ill?"
"No, she doesn't have anything like that on her. Mom, I'm going to be okay. I just need to think for a moment."
Clark frowned, caught in a horrible dilemma of what to do next. This could be his one opportunity to stop her, right here and now. He could do it. Just run over and snap her neck while she was too weak to fight back. If she was too weak to stand up, he didn't think she'd be strong enough to erect whatever force-field she'd had around herself earlier, and he'd be able to touch her. 'Yes, murder Elizabeth right in front of my mom.' Brilliant idea. How could something that unethical ever be right? And why was he even thinking about it? He could try talking to her again, she'd come to him for a reason. Maybe they could come to some sort of compromise? That sounded so unlikely.
His mom broke him out of his thoughts, "Honey, please tell me what's going on. You're scaring me."
"I don't know if I can. This woman is plaguing me…" Glancing down at the woman who appeared so helpless and sad, Clark began to feel badly for her horrible predicament. 'How could I think about killing her? She only wants to be with the person she loves. And I want Lex. God, how I want Lex to be here instead of my mom.' Identifying with those feelings of love and loneliness, Clark paraphrased a line from 'The Modern Prometheus', "She seeks to cure death, but instead has bought a never-ending torture onto herself. And I pity her for that."
Aghast, his mom stared at him before giving a momentary look back at the floor, "You don't sound like yourself. What has she done to you?"
"Everything and nothing." Rubbing his temple, Clark honestly didn't know whether he should curse Elizabeth or thank her for what he'd gone through over the last ten odd days. The whole forced learning experience thing had been a big kick to his ego and heart.
His mom handed him a shirt, which he absently put on. 'Always a mom.' Slowly she began to move towards Elizabeth, Clark put out his hand to stop her from getting any closer and shook his head 'no.' She began to complain, "But-"
His mom's arm suddenly felt like stone under Clark's fingers. Turning to look at her face, Clark was taken aback by the glazed expression she wore. Waving his hand in front of her eyes received absolutely no response. "Mom?"
No blinking or movement of any kind, not even breathing, God, her heart wasn't even beating, Clark continued to stare. His mom appeared before him like a standing corpse with her arms and legs firmly stuck in a walking position, mirroring the effects of rigor mortis. It was like the 'House of Wax' horror movie he'd watched when he was a kid. Feeling the rising rush of a panic attack, Clark jolted when he heard a calm voice speak to him from the ground.
"I know what you were planning on doing today, and it's not necessary. That's why I came. To tell you…" Elizabeth now had drying blood smeared all over her face, and with her possessed looking blue eyes, it made her look like either a murder victim or the murderer.
He no longer felt any pity towards her. If she'd hurt his mom, he would kill her. It was the plain and simple truth. "What have you done to my mom?"
"I stopped her. The immediate area surrounding her body is frozen in time. I swear, it's not harming her in any way. I just wanted to be able to talk privately with you." Still looking like death warmed over, Elizabeth had somehow gotten off the floor and was shaking her head back and forth strangely.
"You have my full attention." Clark clenched his jaw and his fists tightly.
"I have the ability to manipulate what you call time. For me, it's almost like a living and breathing entity that I can feel and touch. And because of me it's bleeding. I've made her angry and she is punishing me for trying to keep her unnaturally caged for so long. My time is running out." She trembled on her feet, "I promise that it will be over for you soon. Please, leave my husband and me alone… I'd like to enjoy my time with him while I still can."
'Wow, that sounded like crazy talk.' Even though most of it didn't seem to make sense, Clark believed she was trying to tell him that she wasn't going to be able to make Friday repeat for much longer. Not knowing whether he should feel happy or upset by that revelation, he decided to go with relieved. Standing protectively in front of his mother, Clark asked, "Is that what you came here to tell me?"
Bemused by his protective pose, Elizabeth nodded, "Yes."
Clark stated bitterly, "Well, that's just great. Thanks. But, a phone call would have been enough. I didn't need to wake up with you invading my home." Holding onto his mother's stiff arm, Clark asked for a bit more clarity on their shared-suffering. "And the fun rolling around on the floor thing we just did, do you happen to know what that's all about?"
"Your body isn't like normal people. I believe you have some sort of internal clock that I can't turn back, that's why you keep your memories intact like I do." Elizabeth appeared mostly composed again, except for the blood. "But, why you get sick as well… I don't know. Maybe we're connected in some way for you to be able to feel my pain? My sister had a similar problem. She always got nauseous whenever I got my headaches." Suddenly sad, she looked away from him in distress.
'All this time I've been feeling her pain? And what about her sister?' Clark vaguely recalled reading that she'd died. Hiding his revulsion Clark said, "I guess, that must be it. Now, I'd appreciate it if you stop whatever it is you're doing to my mom and leave."
His wish was granted almost before he'd finished speaking.
"Oh my- Where did she go? That woman just disappeared. I'm almost certain I didn't look away. Clark did you see her leave? Clark?" His mom acted like nothing had happened to her whatsoever. It was kinda creepy.
"No, I didn't." This was just too much. Everything had happened so fast, Clark hoped that he could get away with lying to his mom about Elizabeth. He didn't want her needlessly worrying about Elizabeth for the rest of the day. Who knows, maybe tomorrow would be Saturday and he could try to forget about every bizarre thing that had happened to him and go back to being nice and happy Clark Kent? Stranger things have been known to happen, especially in Smallville. "I don't know who she was. I woke up and she was in my room asking me questions about her dead husband. I had no idea what she was talking about. She thought I'd be able to help her. And, then the next thing I knew, I was on the ground feeling sick."
Puzzled, his mom stared straight into his deceitful face and acted like she believed him. One thing that Clark had learned to become better at in the last week and a half was lying, but he wasn't proud about that fact.
"How did she get into your room without your dad or me seeing her?" Still worried, his mom bent down and wiped at the blood stained floor with a tissue.
"I think she can teleport. Sorry, these things keep happening to me. Please, if you see her again stay away from her. I think she might be mentally unstable." Trying hard not to fidget or appear overly suspicious, Clark hoped she'd let the topic drop.
"I really don't like this." Smiling uncomfortably, his mom gave one last glance around the room, "You know, I really hope no other girls magically appear in your bedroom for at least another few months. I don't think my heart could take it. If you start feeling ill again, please let me know. And if you see her again I want to know immediately."
"I will." 'I hope no one magically appears in my room again either, two is enough. At least the first time I enjoyed it a lot more.' Making out with Alicia in his bed had been quite nice, having his dad barge in had not. But, that felt like it had happened ages ago already.
"Good. Get washed up. I'm making omelets, with lots of cheese and ham just the way you like it." Giving a small sigh of relief, Clark watched as his mom began to leave his room. He knew she'd never buy that story, but at least for the rest of today, she would be happy and safe to live another day. She was one of the strongest and smartest non-super powered women he would even know. "Sounds great, I'll be right there!"
Then it hit him.
Racing downstairs in his t-shirt and boxers, Clark almost mowed over his mother in the kitchen. "What did you just say?"
In the middle of cracking an egg open on the side of a bowl, his mom glanced up in surprise. "That I hope no more girls show up in your room?"
"No after that."
"I'm making an omelet?" Her worried look quickly returned.
"Yes, why are you doing that? Why not pancakes?" Clark shook with urgency, wanting to get the answers out of her faster.
"Now that you mention it, when I got up this morning I had the full intension of making pancakes and then I just- Didn't want to."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Maybe I changed my mind." She watched him with concern and asked, "Are you sure you're okay? You know that you're acting very odd, right?" Thinking too much to notice his mother's expression or actions, Clark started scanning around the room hoping to see something different or out of place, but didn't.
'Elizabeth must have come to tell me that she couldn't turn back time anymore. 'Oh my God! Could this be Saturday?' "What day is it today?"
"Friday, May 28, 2004"
'No, that's not right.' Then again, if it was Saturday today, he would have been sleeping in Lex's bed this morning and not here. "Are you sure?"
"I can go check the calendar."
"No, it's okay."
What the hell was he supposed to do now? Sitting at the table while his mom continued to give him concerned glances his way every couple of seconds, from the kitchen counter, Clark sighed not knowing what to do. Feeling defeated, Clark slumped his head into his folded arms, blocking his vision of the room around him.
"This is CNN-- A major earthquake stuck off the southern west coast of Russia late Thursday, killing hundreds, but fears of mudslides and further aftershocks are still plaguing the people in the area of the Sikhote Alin Range.
On Russia's Sakhalin Island at least 300 people died and hundreds more were reported injured or trapped, said government spokesman Alexander Yakovenko.
But international news agencies are reporting that between 1,000 and 2,000 people may have been killed on Sakhalin Island…"
"Honey, you know that whatever is going on, you can tell me? Your dad and I are here to help you and no matter how difficult things seem to get you will always have us by your side." His mom was absently frying up breakfast while busily worrying about him. He wished that she'd stop from doing the latter.
"Yeah, I know." The smell of yummy eggs, cheese, ham and other wholesome ingredients made his stomach growl in a demanding way. 'God, it was nice for a change. But, why the change in her cooking today? What did it mean?'
His mom offered, "If you're still not feeling well, you can stay home from school today if you want. I'll let them know that you're sick."
"No. I'm fine, really." If his nausea problems got much worse, he'd just stay in bed and never get up for the day. He was mentally sick of having to get up anyway, so why bother?
Before eating, Clark quickly went upstairs to put some more clothes on. Not really caring what he wore, he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and mismatched socks. The actual eating part of breakfast was thankfully uneventful, though it did leave him with more questions than answers. The main one being: What the heck was he going to do today?
Walking around outside without a real purpose, Clark was astounded to hear quite explicit language coming from his dad. 'Different.'
"Is there something wrong?"
"Yes, this damn piece of junk is a lemon. We bought it less than a year ago, and I'm sick of it breaking down all the time." The last tractor they'd had, Clark had accidentally thrown a mile across their farm and onto the main road, having the only witness, Perry White, and then tailing him like a hush-puppy for a few days asking too many questions because of it. 'Joyful memories.'
"I don't recall the tractor having any mechanical problems. It just looks like a flat tire to me?"
"These tires are expensive, Clark, and if I have to keep changing them every other day I won't be able to afford it." What the hell was his dad talking about? Sure, Clark felt like he'd changed the tire a couple of million times by now, but his dad had never noticed that fact before.
Lifting the tractor above his head like he had the day before, Clark said, "To my knowledge this is the first time you've had to. You must have run over something pretty sharp to cause this much damage, but it's not the tractors fault you did."
His dad looked at him strangely, "I could have sworn that I did this yesterday, I remember something but it's such a vague memory, maybe I dreamt it?" Pacing back and forth while Clark removed the tire his dad continued, "Your right, I don't think I did. My head hurts."
Listening closely to what his dad was saying and not paying much attention to what his hands where doing, Clark dropped the ripped tire into the ground with a bit too much force. His parents where remembering stuff from the repeating Friday, but didn't know it yet. 'What did Chloe and Pete remember? Crap, what did Lex remember?'
"Don't just stand there. If you don't hurry up and finish, you're gonna be late for school." His dad wiped an orange substance onto a towel instead of his face.
Did he really want to go to school again? Burning with curiosity, Clark had to find out how much everyone else was being affected differently today. It was almost exciting that something was different, without him having to change it himself.
Now screwing on the new tire's nuts and bolts, Clark was dismayed when another violent attack of dizziness and weakness caused him to drop the one ton tractor onto himself in a smash of metal and rubber.
"Clark!"
Buried underneath the large vehicle that now needed more than just a broken tire replaced, Clark silently suffered though the worst of his unnatural illness. Other than a sick stomach and a bit of a headache he was otherwise unharmed. It was, in a way, nice to know that even in his helpless state he still couldn't be physically harmed.
Clark called out from under the wreckage, "I'm okay. My hand slipped!" Sure, it'd slipped when he'd clutched his gut with both hands, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to continue holding it for much longer either. And now, his dad was going to be worried for the rest of the day about having to buy another new tractor. 'I need to stop breaking expensive things.'
Clark didn't want to tell his dad everything, just like he hadn't confessed all to his mom like he should have. In a way, he wanted to wait and see what else was going to happen before sending his parents into a big panic mode. Unfortunately, as soon as his dad went back into the house his mom would inform him about her Elizabeth encounter and Clark's abnormal behaviors in the kitchen and they'd most likely come to some interesting conclusions. 'Crappy, but unavoidable.'
After getting his strength back, Clark pushed the tractor off of himself and shakily stood up. His clothes were covered in oil, gas and other smelly flammable liquids. He really needed a shower now.
Frantic arms folded around Clark. "Son, what the hell happened?"
"I'm really sorry. You were right I shouldn't have been showing off like that." Clark replied, not realizing that is was a comment to something his dad had said to him the day before. Clark felt guilty for destroying the tractor. 'Why did I have to lift it above my head anyway? I could have fixed it just as easily on the ground.'
"I don't care about that. It's just a material object." His dad pulled back to study him close up, "I saw you. You were in pain."
Smiling, Clark tried to brush off his now regular bout of queasiness as being something much more trivial, "I'll be fine. I promise." Gesturing at his clothes he continued, "I really need to get washed up. I'm gonna be late for school. Try not to worry about me. I'll see ya later."
Clark wasn't concerned about being late, but it was exciting at what might be happening there. Zipping past his mother, he undressed halfway up the stairs before jumping into the shower and quickly washing off most of the goo. 'No more parental looks of concern or questions about my health, please.'