(6): Smothering problemeer (at your service)
Author: Sakura123
Genre: General (written in 1st Person)
Timeline: Season II Set after the episode "Vortex." before "Heat." Number Six of my short story attack.
Characters: Read to find out. (mentioned characters).
Rated: PG (For language)
Summary: Problems just don't go away at your command, no matter how hard you want to believe everything is right with the world (Shrug). Somehow, asking ME for advice is a very big problem if I can't ask your Dad or Lana Lang. (Pause) How is she is anyway? (Scowl) Who gives a damn?
Disclaimer: All characters, places, names or otherwise mentioned concerning Smallville and SUPERMAN belongs to the DC Comics and the WB company.
Authors Note: I've barely watched Season two when it was airing and rerunning. I've seen, however, the episode Jonathan Taylor(?) Thomas stared in; I think Jonathan was using crutches in that episode, I frankly don't know what happened so I guess this will be a bit AU-ish in places concerning the order of happenings in the S2 episodes.
Sometimes I wish the lake was closer to the farm than way out there past the forest, the walk is sometimes murder and I always find myself confronted by the resistance of leaving the farm because I find that my work really helps me forget about the world around me for a few sweaty hours. Then there's always the urge to go off someplace and do something other than work, I need a hobby is all, a nice practical hobby aside from worrying about every single thing in the world around me.
So here I am sitting on the back of my truck in the middle of the late afternoon watching the sun reflecting on the rippling lake, I had thrown stones into the water earlier. I rubbed the back of my neck feeling stiff all over from the work I subjected myself to. My hands ached as well, milking cows is no fun at all. Then again either is work. I continued to stare out into the lake for the longest time barely noticing I had company approaching in all too familiar red Volks Wagon Beetle. I wasn't sure what to do with myself at the current moment, no work and all play is how my week has been lately, mostly because I've been trying forget what happened to me all at once and far to quickly for me to react to.
In time, my mental aches and bruises will heal up to what ever extent my wounded pride will allow it to, then it'll be back to normal. As normal as can be, anyways, I thought to myself. I scrubbed my face with my aching hands in a way to wake myself up. The tranquil peace at the lake side was really working on me like I had expected to; I could fall asleep right this moment if it wasn't for the fact that two certain people would come running out the house to look me, worried sick about my absence I couldn't blame them, I'd worry too if they just suddenly didn't return because of some flimsy excuse like "It was nice at the lake, I decided to sleep in the truck for the rest of the night." I grinned at the possibility of how it would sound if I came home the next day.
Lying back in the truck I stared up into the fusca tinted sky catching the faint sparkles of the stars slowly coming out to greet the nocturne animals and insomniacs, neither of which I happen to be. Okay, maybe and Insomniac every other month (mostly in July, the hottest month of year, and sometimes in December.) but other than that I manage to sleep through the nights. I scratched behind my ear upon feeling something tickling it, I sat up and looked around. The sandy lake area was deserted still and I was all by my lonesome with the exception of fire flies and other insects. I groaned feeling a headache coming on. Lying down in a truck on a warm night after working as hard as I did was probably not the wisest thing I've done all day.
Mussing up my hair I slowly climbed out of the back of the truck and proceeded toward the front, with every intention of going home until I noticed a head of blonde hair setting on the ground beside the wheel of the truck. "C-Chloe?" I blurted. She looked horrible from my point of view; her hair was more of a mess than it usually was, her face was puffy and red, the same went with her watery eyes and runny nose. She wore a usual outfit; a short denim jacket, a too small tank top that revealed her slightly chubby stomach, too small jeans that barely hung on her hips let alone backside (I couldn't see that far back, though), a messenger bag lying on the ground beside her (some of her books had fallen out slightly), and her cell phone handing limply in her small hands, her thumb resting lightly on the 'call' button. She looked up at me quickly rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, I was forced not to roll my eyes as I kneeled down in front of her.
"Clark's not here," I announced, hoping she would come out of her sobbing stupor she had put herself in. But Chloe didn't budge as she continued to try not to cry in front of me, it wasn't amusing to say the least. She swallowed what sounded like another sob before she turned to me with angry red eyes. "I don't want to talk to Clark," She sniffled, sounding like a six year old who couldn't get her way. I nodded my head, not quite understanding what she meant. "Why not?" I insisted. Chloe snapped her cell phone shut and tossed it across the ground. "Why not? Are you the only person who doesn't know what happened?" She proclaimed, sounding a bit upset. I tried not to shrug as I watched her fight back more tears.
I knew what happened, Clark had explained everything to myself and Martha, he was in hot water with Chloe apparently. I sighed in dismay, the boy's got a one track mind. What he did was noble in terms of saving human life, but then he left Chloe at the prom and didn't return to come get her. That would be enough to bring me down too, if I were a female. "No, I know what happened, Chloe," I responded sitting next to her. Chloe looked as though her personal space was invaded for some particular reason but she made no moves to tell me to leave if she was bothered by my presence.
"If you don't want to talk to Clark, then just talk to Pete, Gabe or Lana. . .," I trailed off. The young woman beside me looked as though she was going to start crying again, just because I mentioned the other girl's name. I opened my mouth to apologize but Chloe beat me to the punch, speaking wise. "I don't want to talk to Pete, he'll just say that Clark - Clark, he'll just say something stupid about Clark and me forgiving him instantly. I don't want to talk to Dad, he'll just look at me sympathetically and say "It'll be okay, sweetheart, you'll forgive him in time," Chloe paused to exhale a shaky breath. I fought back the urge to place a hand on the girl's shoulder and repeat what she had just said.
Chloe continued. "And I certainly don't want to talk to miss perfect Lana Lang!" Chloe struggled against her will to scream the last part of her sentence. I watched her not with sympathetic or sad eyes, just disappointed ones. I'm amazed at how young girls will let little things like crushes and boys ruin their early lives and amazed at how narrow-minded Clark can be when it comes to this particular one that resided beside me. They were best friends, I knew that all too well, Clark knows Chloe better than Lana. So it made me wonder how he spends so much time with the superficial girl instead of down to earth girl. A girl that would throw herself in front of a train for him, if he notice her the way she wanted him to. I scowled at myself mentally. I had a brief period of swooning over the superficial for as long as I can remember and I got her the girl too.
Right after I made it to the football team (I still wonder to this day if Nell really liked me for who I was, or just because I was star quarterback). However, I never had any female friends that had feelings for me other than friendship. I thank God, I went to collage in Metropolis when I did. Chloe whipped her nose with a napkin she had balled up in her hand, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes. "Why does everyone think, I'll be so quick to forgive Clark. I hate the fact that everyone thinks just because I'm his friend, I'll forgive him just like that!" She snapped her fingers in example. Chloe turned to me with hopeful eyes. I suddenly found myself swallowing against the normal advice I give to Clark in his dire times and pondered shortly on what to say to the suffering teenager beside me.
I twiddled my fingers around the zipper of my barn jacket, I began to take notice that the sun was rapidly setting behind the mountains. Mussing up my hair again, I rested my head against the truck door. "So you came here, to tell me this, hoping I'd say something different than the usual?" I said. I shifted my blue eyes toward Chloe expecting an answer. She swallowed nervously with a nod; she explained to me that she had come to the farm to talk to (or chew out) Clark but he was no where around, so she had asked Martha if I was anywhere around. Being the kind of person she is, Martha told Chloe I was down at the lake and it was lucky for her I was still here. "Well," I said, cracking a flattered smile. "That's awful . . . nice." Chloe just laughed and sobbed at the same time whipping her nose again. I just watched her for a while unable to hide my smile.
Chloe looked up at me with confused brown eyes. "Is there something wrong with me? I mean, have done something wrong to deserve my horrible life?" She choked. I was taken aback by the sudden change of tone in her voice. First we were talking about Clark and now it was her life. That just too many complex subjects to keep track of. She shifted her eyes to me expecting me to say something. "Is your life horrible?" I said. Chloe paused in her answer then blinked for the longest time, staring into space. I think she was actually reevaluating her words, I wasn't expecting her to spill her life story to me just a simple answer to my question would do. Her head lowered slightly, her eyes peering at me through her split ended bangs. "No . . . not really, Mr. Kent," She said.
I nodded in a understanding way. What she had said before was the typical teenage response when things aren't going their way. However, Chloe wasn't typical in the ways of the word. She was much more than that. "But . . . it isn't perfect either," Chloe added. I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Of course it isn't, Chloe. No one's life is perfect. But doesn't mean your life is horrible. I mean, I look at me," I said placing a hand on my chest. Chloe did as I said, she looked at me long and hard as. "I don't get what you mean," Chloe stuttered. I sighed, figuring she wouldn't. "What I mean is, that there are things in my life I wish I could do over. But if I did, nothing I did would come out the same way it has so far. Possibly," I stated. Chloe stared at me, looking more confused than she had. "Look, what I mean, is that problems just don't go away at your command, no matter how hard you want to believe everything is right with the world." I shrugged again, fiddling with the collar of my barn jacket, I looked to her with a nervous smile. "Somehow, asking ME for advice is a very big problem if I can't ask your Dad or Lana Lang." I paused again finding myself asking how Lana was anyway; after the ordeal she went through, she was probably very shaken over it all. Chloe scowled angrily and punched me in the ribs. I didn't appreciate it, I didn't say anything about it either, though.
"Who gives a damn?" Was what came out her mouth. I was left stunned and shocked at the response, so shocked I wasn't sure what to say to her. I laughed nervously several minutes later, in which she did the same thing. It was completely odd to have Chloe asking me all these questions but at the same time it was nice. It comfortable change from what I usually find myself talking about. I continued. "Your bound to make mistakes and do the wrong thing at times, but it doesn't mean your life is horrible." Chloe seemed a little more understanding now, I smiled inwardly and rubbing my wrist feeling upon a sudden downward emotion pulling my reasonably good mood. Chloe scratched the back of her neck with a sigh of her own (I've been doing that a lot), she stared at me scooting a little closer. "Getting back to Clark. What should I do?" Chloe asked. "Should I just . . . forgive Clark quickly and just forget about the whole thing?"
I stared out into the black void that laid out before me, nightfall had come quicker than I expected, this conversation had gone on longer than I expected. But getting back to the matter at hand, I decided to just tell her what I thought instead of trying to find words that wouldn't hurt her feelings. "No. I don't think you should just forgive Clark. He left you alone and didn't return. I expect you were both hurt and worried about him while you were waiting. But I don't think you should just kick dirt in his face because of it though. Its true, give him any time of the day and Clark will drop everything everyone else considers important because of Lana Lang. Don't give up on him just yet Chloe," I said turning to what little I could see of her face. "Give him a chance to realize what a great friend he has and believe me, he'll come running back instantly to you Chloe Sullivan." I was surprised that she didn't snap at me, I got a smile from her.
She seemed happy with what I told her. Of course, he'll repeat cycle over again when he sees Lana Lang again, I thought to myself. In the distance I could see the flickering lights of fireflies all around us, Chloe jumped when one of them appeared in front of her and swatted her hand at it. A few more minutes of silence fell over the two of us again, I found myself humming a song I hadn't heard since 1993. Chloe started laughing as she stood up. I followed suit and reached into the open window of my truck and turned the key in the ignition. The headlights came on and illuminated Chloe's red Volks Wagon Beetle. She grasped my hand proceeding to shake it, I shook her hand back a bit roughly.
"Thanks for the advice Mr. Kent, I appreciate you letting me confide in you. However, I don't think I'll ever be that girl Clark is looking for," She said. I tried not to look surprise at her words and the understanding that came with them, I suddenly felt sorry for her suddenly. I nodded my head in response, adding, "Maybe so, but I know this thing he has for Lana is just a crush. I long winded crush. It won't last forever," Chloe stared at me with intent eyes as though she was searching for some truth in my words which were completely honest in every aspect of the word. As she let go of my hand I felt a familiar gentle gust of wind rush past me, I automatically knew it was Clark coming to get me. Or maybe Chloe. The girl peered behind me and looked shocked, she patted my arm and I turned around.
I spotted Clark with a net in his hand and jar full of fireflies in his other. He walked toward us with a perplex glint in his brown eyes. Chloe tightened her jaw then turned to me. "I'll see you later Mr. Kent," She said in mock-sweetness. "Clark," She said in a told tone of voice. "Hi Chloe," He said hesitantly. Chloe turned away from us hand headed toward the Beetle. Clark gave me a suspicious look as I opened the drivers door. Chloe's car started up, she waved to me with a smile before heading down the dusty road as fast as she could. I climbed and he climbed in after me. "What you were two talking about?" He asked, narrowing his eyes down at me. I grinned at him starting up the truck. I raised my head upward with knowing look. "Wouldn't you like to know," I said mysteriously.
(TBC)