bChapter Two/b

He pushed open the door into the Talon. The familiar scents of coffee, cinnamon, apples and chocolate assaulted his senses. His eyes sought out his mother and he saw her behind the counter, serving last cups of coffee to go. There were only a couple of tables left occupied. He walked towards the counter, briefly forgetting the pain of Lana and Jason's engagement, his attention centred on his mother. She lifted her head as she gave change to a customer and it was then she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise before a big smile lit up her face. She rounded the counter and ran towards him.

"Clark! You're home! When did you get back?" she gasped, holding her only child to her.

"This afternoon" he told her. She looked up at him.

"And you're home for Christmas?" he nodded and the smile, if possible, bloomed larger.

"I'm so glad to hear that. What are you doing here? Why aren't you catching up with your friends?"

"Pete is in Wichita, Chloe is in Metropolis and spending the season with her cousin, and Lana…" his voice trailed away and Martha saw the sadness in his blue-green eyes.

"What about Lana?" Clark sighed.

"I just saw her. She and Jason are engaged," he told her, depression weighing his voice down. Martha's eyes darkened with sympathy.

"Oh sweetheart" she murmured. Clark glanced at her.

"I know, I know… I was the one who kept her at arm's length because I thought I was protecting her, but when she told me… something inside of me just…died I guess" he felt his mother's hand slide into his and squeeze it gently.

"You knew this would happen one day Clark" she reminded him and he nodded, his eyes downcast.

"I guess it just brought it home to me that I'm destined to be alone"

"You don't know that Clark, I firmly believe that there is someone out there for you," He sighed.

"I just always thought that it'd be Lana that's all" he answered in a low voice.

The Talon was empty now, the ensuing silence a blessing. Clark helped his mother clear the tables, load the industrial sized dishwasher in the kitchen and act as general all round dogsbody. He could use super speed to get it all done in a fraction of the time it normally took, but tonight he felt like taking his time, the mundane-ness of the task a balm for his aching heart and depressed thoughts.

He came out of the kitchen as he heard his mother tell someone that they were closed.

"We're not here for coffee," the voice snarled in response. He heard his mother gasp and the click of a loaded shotgun. He was at his mother's side in an instant.

"What do you want?" he demanded, moving surreptitiously so to stand in front of his mother.

"What do you think?" he used to muzzle of the gun to indicate the till. Clark used the opportunity to grab the gun. He gasped as he felt the blood in his veins begin to fizzle and pop…kryptonite? Where? Then comprehension dawned, the gun…there had to be kryptonite in the gun. The radiation sent sharp waves of prickling pain through his entire system, making his nerve endings stretch and scream for relief. Nausea bubbled in his stomach and his knees threatened to give.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the prospective thief yelled and pushed Clark away. Weakened by the kryptonite, Clark went down.

"Clark!" Martha screamed and dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around her son's shoulders. She flinched as the gun's muzzle stopped a millimetre away from the side of her head.

"There's no need for anyone to play superhero here, just give me the cash!" Clark opened his eyes and looked at him. The guy was scrawny, had an underfed look about him and his eyes were filled with desperation. He wanted to feel a modicum of sympathy for him, but not while he had that gun pressed up against his mother's head. He groaned quietly as fresh pain assaulted him and nausea rose once more.

"Do it mom," Clark whispered. Martha glanced down at him before slowly getting to her feet. The thief kept the shotgun trained on Clark as Martha went to the till as ordered. Clark knew his attention wasn't one hundred percent on him. Heat vision would make him drop the weapon for sure, but Clark was so weakened by the kryptonite in the gun, he suspected it was in the bullets, that he wasn't sure he'd be successful or even do it in time. His vision blurred slightly and he shook his head.

"Better hurry up, your boy doesn't look very well," the thief taunted. Clark felt anger begin to burn inside of him.

"Here's your damned money!" Martha hissed and threw it across the counter.

Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion. Dollar bills rained down on Clark as enraged the thief levelled the shotgun at his mother. Clark immediately felt slight relief as the radiation pain eased enough to allow him to stagger to his feet. He lunged towards the thief, who spun around and fired. The sound of the gun exploding was deafening. Clark felt something canon into his chest. It knocked him several feet backwards and he crashed up against the counter and slid downwards until he stopped. His eyes widened and he gasped loudly as the kryptonite bullet pulverised bone and tore through flesh. He heard someone screaming his name, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. He turned his head slightly as a face came into view. He recognised his mom's red hair, still so bright with hardly a sign of grey. Her green eyes were wide and panic stricken. She touched his face, called his name, it was funny but he could barely hear her, couldn't feel her touch. Another face came into view behind her. He looked at her. She seemed to shine with an ethereal glow, almost as if from inside. Her eyes were pure blue and her hair was corn gold and long. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She smiled gently at him.