Lana's POV
I can hear Clark dragging his feet like a neglected puppy following its master. Guilt boils and toils in my stomach, a wave of nausea overcoming me. I quickly push it down and for a second, my step falters. Behind me, Clark's pace quickens and he's about to rush to my side when I blurt out, "I'm fine."
His expression falls and he nods, resuming his stance to the back of me, his hands in his pockets. I try to wipe out the dejected and hurt look on his face, but it's no use. It only makes it worse.
I know that I probably shouldn't have snapped at him earlier or pushed him away, but to be honest, his decision scares the heck out of me.
Let's say that he does stay in Smallville. He would still be on the farm and I would have the apartment above the Talon. We would have the luxury of 24/7 visiting hours like we do now, even if one of us decides to commute to Central Kansas. And then what? Our relationship would probably get pretty serious and hot and heavy. We'd get to know each other inside and out. We'd be the perfect couple this town's ever seen. What happens after that?
After a couple of years, we'd get hitched, move into the Kent Farm or another relatively similar house and then come the babies. I would end up becoming a home keeper while Clark goes out and tends to the fields or something. Babies would turn into kids, teenagers, and then full fledged adults. Clark and I would retire and enjoy our remaining years together and visit with the grandchildren. I'd probably end up dying first and soon Clark—if he can die, but that's for another time.
In about a minute or so, I've just mapped out my future and Clark's. God, it's incredibly dull, isn't it?
Don't get me wrong, I love Clark to death and I would be thrilled to be his wife and to have his children, but I can't help but wonder if there are other options out there. Somewhere along the line, I, or even Clark, is going to look back and wonder how our life could've been so much different. Yes, I want to marry him, have his children, go through potholed streets of life, and grow old with him, but I also want him—us to have no regrets along the way. I don't him or me to settle for something that we will eventually grow to hate.
Clark has so much to offer to the world... I realized that a long time ago, but now I'm beginning to understand the enormity of it all. With his amazing gifts, I'm sure that he could make a positive difference in so many people's lives.
It would be a shame for me to hold him back from his full potential—something that he doesn't even recognize yet. If Clark stayed in Smallville for me…because of me, I would never forgive myself. Isn't that what love is? Selflessness…wanting your loved one to do more…become more…
As these thoughts are spinning inside of my head, I barely register Clark calling my name until a small tug on my arm brings me back to my senses.
I spin around and I am met with a chest covered by a thin fabric of red. Clark is easily and ridiculously about the tallest guy in Smallville. Standing at a little over six feet, he puts the other guys in the town to shame, in my opinion, of course. Then again, I'm sort of bias.
"My dad just pulled up in the driveway and I'm going to help him unload," Clark tells me. He's careful to keep his voice neutral.
I nod and he continues.
"Umm…you go ahead and start breakfast with my mom. We won't be long."
There's a pause before he finally turns to head toward the figure near the red pickup truck.
Before I know it, I'm calling him back.
He stops in mid-step and turns with a quizzical expression.
I take a deep breath. "Clark, I'm sorry about earlier…for snapping at you."
He doesn't say anything for a moment. I'm not sure what I expect or want him to say.
After a minute, he takes his hands out of his pockets and strides over to me. He takes my hands in his and looks me in the eyes.
"Lana…maybe I shouldn't have pushed you too hard to accept my decision…but you have to know that I would never do anything to hurt you," Clark says sincerely. "If you're not happy with my decision then tell me and we'll figure something else out together."
"You know…the reason I got so upset in the first place was that you didn't include me in your decision making. You just told me straight out that you staying in Smallville and you expected me to accept that," I say softly.
He glances down before back at me. "I realize that now and I'm sorry. But I really mean what I said. If you're not happy then we'll figure something else out together."
I take a breath and nod. "I know that, Clark. But right now, I need some space to sort things out."
I swear that I just heard Clark's heart break. It pains me to know that I just broke it, but I know that he'll understand. He always does.
"Oh. Okay."
"Yeah," I whisper. "Clark, please understand. I just need a couple of hours to think things through. But, I swear to you that I'm not giving up on us."
"Right," he says in the same flat tone.
"I love you," I offer, glancing away.
He nods, but he doesn't return it. After a moment, he pulls away, his shoulders slumped. I watch with tears in my eyes as he walks away.
Clark's POV
"I love you."
I nod and open my mouth to say the same, but the words are stuck. Something else that she said earlier is still ringing in my ears. "But right now, I need some space to sort things out."
I'm not sure how it happened, but it did. I release my grasp on her hands and begin to walk away. I order my feet to stop, turn around, and drop to my knees and beg Lana for forgiveness, but they won't listen.
I sigh and barely register my dad waving me over to help him unload the bags of fertilizer from the bed of the pickup truck. It's like my mind is stuck on replay or something and I can't get it to stop analyzing Lana's words.
I understand why Lana needs space right now, but reason doesn't always go well with the heart. Her words still sting like hell, no matter how hard I try to convince myself that she's probably right.
I shouldn't have pushed so hard to get her to agree with my decision, but with all due respect, I thought that she would have at least given me some credit for stepping up to the plate in our relationship and taking a chance for once.
If there's anything that I've learned here this morning is that women are more complicated than Kryptonians and their cryptic warnings and messages.
Standing here and making assumptions isn't going to do any good at all. The best thing to do is to wait for Lana to make the next move.
"But, I swear to you that I'm not giving up on us."
I close my eyes for a split second and remember her pleading expression, wanting me to have faith in her.
"I do have faith in you, Lana," I mutter under my breath. "I love you."
Now, these are the words that I should have said to her once she let slip the three magical words.
Alas, it's too late now.
I jog the few remaining steps to the truck, hoping that a little manual labor will take my mind off of Lana and my mistakes.
"Well, you're finally up," Dad comments as soon as I am near the truck.
It takes me a minute to figure out what he's talking about.
"Oh, yeah. I got in late last night," I say in what I hope is in a nonchalant way.
"Yeah, your mother told me." Dad grunts as he attempts to lift a bag of fertilizer from the back of the pickup.
I take the bag off of his hands and set it down near the other ones. Then, I pick up the last two bags and toss them to the floor.
"So, how did it go last night in the caves with Lana?"
"Umm…" I brush my hands together, making it look like I'm trying to rid them of dirt. "She took it all pretty well actually."
"That's good to hear, son." Dad slaps my shoulder to show that he's proud of me. "Shouldn't you be picking up Lana right about now? Your mother mentioned breakfast with her."
"Oh…I already did," I tell him, cursing myself for not making up a story already. "She's in the house with Mom."
"You took your mother's car?"
"Yeah." I shove my hands in my pockets.
"Well, c'mon then, let's get these bags to the storm cellar."
"Dad, what happened to the fertilizer from Lex?" It's a simple question, but it certainly caught my dad off guard.
"Dad?" I glance at him and gather the remaining bags off the floor.
He snaps out of it. "Well, what do you think happened to them, son?" Dad replies with a laugh.
"We ran out," I answer slowly and follow him to the storm cellar. I'm about to follow him down when he stops abruptly at the top.
"Clark, why don't you head back to the house? There's no point for the both of us to miss out your mother's chocolate chip pancakes," Dad suggests, keeping his tone light.
"No, it's okay, Dad." I shake my head. I'll admit that I've been more worried about him than usual since his allergic reaction. I begin to move forward, but my dad is blocking the entrance into the storm cellar. What's going on?
"Clark, I'll be fine. You go ahead. I'm sure Lana could use some company."
"Actually, Lana and I aren't exactly on good terms right now," I confess, shifting a bag over my shoulder.
"Why? I thought you said that things went well last night," Dad comments, temporarily forgetting about the fertilizer.
"I told Lana about my decision to stay in Smallville and she wasn't exactly thrilled about it," I admit, sighing.
Dad seems to study me for a moment before speaking up. "To be honest, I wasn't particularly thrilled with your decision either—not that I don't want you to stay here with your mother and I. Now, you already know my reasons behind my reaction, but do you know Lana's?"
I open my mouth, and then close it, realizing that my dad is right. I don't know why Lana was so upset over my decision.
"Son, if you really want to get to the bottom of this, you have to know what's bugging her."
I nod and think about his words. At the same time, I move past him and begin to descend the stairs to the bottom of the cellar.
"Clark─" Dad puts a hand on my shoulder and stops me from going any further.
"Dad, what's wrong? It's not like you found another space ship and stashed it down there," I joke.
He relaxes his grasp on my shoulder and I start the descent down again. When I reach the bottom, my eyes go wide.
Stacked right in the corner of the cellar are the many bags of fertilizer that Lex offered us.
I spin around and look to my dad for an explanation. He offers none and descends to stand by my side at the bottom of the steps.
"Dad, why did you put the fertilizer that Lex gave us down here?" I ask curiously. My tone is neither accusatory nor angry.
Dad sighs and throws the bags of fertilizer on the floor. "Clark, you have to understand that Lex isn't exactly the most trustworthy person. I know that he allowed you inside the plant to see how he makes the stuff, but we don't know what he's doing behind closed doors."
"But I thought you and Mom were okay with receiving fertilizer from him," I say, confused, dumping my bags of fertilizer of top of his.
"Your mother was, but I wasn't," Dad replies simply, scratching the back of his head.
I nod. "I only wished that you had told me early. I never liked this stuff much anyway."
Dad peels his eyes off the LexCorp fertilizer and sets them on me. "Why not?"
"I feel sick around them sometimes," I reply, not noticing the alarmed expression on my father's countenance.
"And why the hell did you not tell your mother or me?" he demands.
I turn to face him, surprised at his reaction. I didn't think that my comment would get that much of a reaction out of him. But then again, I thought the same with Lana.
"Dad─"
"Clark, why didn't you tell me? We should have gotten rid of this stuff ages ago then!"
"Dad, you're overreacting─"
"Am I?" He strides over to the fertilizer in the corner and shakes a bag. "For all we know this stuff could have Kryptonite in it!"
"Dad! Lex said that it didn't," I say quickly, but realize my mistake.
"Clark, you can not trust Lex Luthor!" Dad yells, starting to cough.
"But, Dad─" I force down the urge to yell back at him. With a pang of guilt, I remember his weakened heart due to Jor-el and me. I have to get him to calm down.
"Dad, let's get out of here. I'll get rid of the fertilizer and we won't ever have to talk about it or see it again," I say with a forced composure.
He coughs some more and nods. I let out a breath of relief and wait for him to pass me and ascend the stairs. But that moment never comes.
"Dad?" I run over to his side and gingerly pat him on the back as he continues to cough. His coughs become more violent and soon I have to help him to stand.
"I'll get you some water," I offer quickly, preparing to super speed back to the house.
"Clark…" Dad manages to choke out before coughing one last time.
"Dad!" I cry as he goes limp in my arms. I lay him down and notice that his chest is beating up and down rapidly.
"No…" I whisper. Flashbacks of him in the barn lying on the ground with a hand over his heart come to mind.
"Mom!"
Lana's POV
Once he becomes just a figure in the distance, I wipe my tears on the sleeve of my jacket and try to compose myself. I take an unsteady breath and head toward the yellow house.
I don't regret saying what I did to Clark because it's the truth. I do need some time to sort things through and I am definitely not giving up on us.
I'm sure that he understands or will come to understand. But what hurts the most is that he didn't say anything when I told him that I love him. I understand that my words probably pain him, but for him to just stand there and nod is…not very Clark Kent of him. I know that a person isn't who they are in any one moment, but it doesn't change the fact that I now have some doubts about his feelings for me.
I take a breath and pause at the fence of the house. I push my thoughts to the back of my mind for later.
After a moment of trying out relaxing techniques—which, might I add, don't work at all—I straighten my shoulders and start in the direction of the door.
The screen door is propped open and just as I'm about to knock, Martha Kent's voice calls out for me to come in.
"Hello, Lana," she greets with a warm smile.
"Hi, Mrs. Kent," I reply. I've always been a bit envious of Clark and his parents. From an outsider's perspective, they seem like the perfect family in every way. Nobody would have thought that a farmer and his wife were harboring an alien.
"C'mon in, Lana," Martha says, leading me into the kitchen. Plates of food covered by plastic are laid out on the counter and the smell of bacon hits my nostrils.
"Would you mind helping me set the table?" Martha asks me.
"Sure," I immediately go over to the drawers and pull out eating utensils while Martha sets the food down on the table and unwraps them from their plastic coverings.
I follow her to the dining area and help set the utensils and napkins in their rightful place. I sniff the air filled with the aroma of Martha Kent's wonderful cooking. A pang of grief hits me as I wish that my mother were still alive to cook me these extravagant breakfasts. Clark doesn't know how lucky he is.
"Everything looks wonderful, Mrs. Kent," I say politely, taking off my jean jacket and going over to the coat rack near the door to hang it up.
"Thank you, Lana. I'm glad that you could make it." She gestures to the table in telling me that we should sit.
I take a seat with her sitting next to me. To my surprise she reaches over and takes my hand.
"Are you okay? No offense, but you look a little beat."
I guess my eyes gave me away. "Actually…" I stop and wonder if I should tell her. Would she tell Clark?
"You can tell me, sweetie. I won't tell Clark," Martha says as if reading my mind. She smiles at me reassuringly and I smile back.
"This morning Clark told me about his decision to stay in Smallville." I pause to gather my thoughts. "And…I sort of have mixed feelings about it."
"I think I understand how you're feeling," Martha says with a knowing glint in her eyes. "A part of you is glad that he's staying and another is worried that if he stays, he'll never fully tap into that potential of his."
I blink and laugh. "Were you a mind reader in another lifetime?"
Martha laughs and says, "Just a mother's intuition. And besides, Clark only told me yesterday about his decision and I had mix feelings like you do now."
She squeezes my hand and continues. "Lana, I don't know what else to say except talk to him. He loves you very much and I'm sure that if you just tell him how you feel and listen to him, you two will figure something out."
"Thanks," I say, hoping that she notices the sincerity in my voice.
"Your welcome. Anytime that you want to talk, I'll be here."
I'm about to reply when Clark bursts into the house, out of breath, something that rarely happens when it comes to him.
"Clark, what's wrong?" Martha stands up abruptly and goes over to her son. I follow, concern written all over my face.
"Mom…it's Dad. Something's wrong…I─"
"Clark, honey, take a breath. I can't understand─"
"Mom, Dad's in the storm cellar. I think…" He trails off and notices me behind his mother. "I think that he's having a heart attack."
It takes me a moment for me to register what has been said. Martha, however, is already out the door, running toward the direction of the storm cellar. She cries behind her to call an ambulance.
I run over to the phone and dial 911.
"911. What can I do to help you?"
"Get an ambulance over to the Kent Farm. Jonathon Kent is having a heart attack." I hang up the phone as soon as the operator tells me that one is on the way. I jog over to Clark and notice that he looks like drained.
"Hey, are you okay?" I cup his cheek in my hand.
"Yeah…I just can't believe that this is happening all over again. The doctor said that he was doing fine the last time we went to Metropolis…."
"Hey, your dad is a survivor. He'll be alright," I say firmly, turning his head to look at me. I grab his hand and usher him out of the house to the storm cellar. Although I'm keeping up a brave front on the outside, on the inside, I'm terrified. Oh, God. If Jonathon Kent doesn't pull through for some reason…