I have a reason for not updating for 8 days, I have a very bad cold. Actually I'm really hoping it's not the flu cause I want to be awake this Christmas. This chapter may have a fewweird sentencesin as a result, I'll check it over later. I'm not making much sense at the moment so just ignore me and read on.
Mega thank you to htbthomas for betaing!
Diverse
Part Eight: Altercation
Silence seemed to fill the world; a silence so thick it even suffocated the faint light peeking from a crack under the door. The door squeaked on its hinges and more light poured in, momentarily shattering the peace and quiet.
A second of hesitation, then, "Mommy?" A little boy's voiced filled the void.
No response.
"Mommy?" Again the voice spoke. Scared. Pleading. Desperate.
"Yes, Clark?" A delayed and tired reply, still holding infinite patience and love for all its frailty.
"Why are the lights off?" Clark asked, a tinge of fear creeping up the back of his neck at the impenetrable blackness.
"Mommy has a headache, dear. A very bad headache. Perhaps Daddy will fix you some milk and cookies if you go downstairs?" she suggested wearily.
Little Clark shook his head vehemently in the darkness, but Rose could not see it. A few minutes of silence passed, then:
"Clark? Are you still here?"
"Yes Mommy," A guilty little voice answered.
Rose opened her mouth to say 'I'll still be here in the morning, you know' but quickly decided lying wouldn't get her anywhere. Already she could feel the blood slowing in her veins, thick and sluggish. Her breath came in harsh rasps which she did her best to muffle for the sake of her son. "Don't worry, baby," she said instead. "You'll be alright. You and Daddy will be alright."
Clark's lower lip trembled. "I don't want you to go," he whispered, moving closer to the bed so that he could see his mother's pale face turned towards his. She stretched out a hand to him, sucking in a breath at the pain and nausea it caused. Clark was at her side immediately, latched onto her hand ferociously.
"Don't worry, Clark," Rose reiterated softly. "You'll have Daddy to look after you down here, and I'll be watching over you-" She paused to motion at the ceiling "- up there. And when it's yours and Daddy's time, we'll be together again. In the meantime, I want you to promise me you'll look after Daddy, and try your hardest in everything you do-"
"But-" Clark started to protest, tears shining in his big blue eyes. His mother had never spoken this way before and he didn't like it.
"Nuh-uh, you'll be just fine, honey," Rose interrupted. Clark couldn't help but notice how much quieter her voice had become and how much louder the air whistling in and out of her lungs sounded. Her gasps echoed ominously in the tiny rose-coloured room.
Clark's lower lip trembled even more violently, and tears pooled in his eyes, but he bit his lip to stop it quivering and blinked to halt the tears from spilling over his cheeks. Daddy would be angry if he saw him crying over Mommy again, and he didn't want Daddy to be angry.
"Mommy?" he said a little while later.
"Yes…" wheeze "…Clark?"
Clark's original question evaporated in light of this strange new occurrence.
"Why does your voice sound funny?"
"Just… sore… throat," Rose gasped back, and though Clark nodded as if to accept her explanation, he was frowning hard.
Hours passed quickly, and Clark knelt on the uncomfortable floor, laying his head on the pillow next to his mother's. After a while her breathing seemed to ease and slow into the pattern of deep sleep, and Clark relaxed against the warm bed.
He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, the raspy breathing had stopped, and the pillow was cold.
Clark bolted upright, scrambling to his feet and scraping his knees against the wood in his haste to get up. An anguished scream fought its way out the back of his throat, and the tears he'd held at bay before now flooded back.
"Mommy! Mommy wake up!" His grip on Rose's hand intensified and he shook wildly when there was no response.
"What happened? Mommy, tell me what happened!"
"Mommy, please say something!"
"Mommy, please, what's wrong with you!"
"Say something! Anything!"
"SAY SOMETHING!"
"Say something! Clark, talk to me!"
With a strangled sort of scream Clark's eyes snapped open and he stopped struggling against the ropes still binding his arms and left leg. Lex hesitated, eyes narrowed as he watched Clark struggle to breathe normally, then bent and untied his other leg, quickly followed by undoing the knots pinning his arms.
Clark fell forward and though Lex steadied him as much as possible, he still ended up as a tangled heap of limbs on the ground. Lex immediately knelt beside his old friend.
"Clark, what is it? Why are you like this?" Lex demanded quickly, eyes roving around the clumps of corn for any hint of a meteor rock. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd actually want to find the green stone that he'd seen cause Clark so much pain. But that had to be it. Why else wasn't he recovering yet?
"Neck…" Clark choked, and Lex's eyes snapped onto the twinkling green jewelry around Clark's neck. Lex tore it off hastily and flung it away as hard as he could. He didn't wait to see where it landed but turned back to Clark, who was sitting up weakly and still trying to gulp more oxygen than was possible into his lungs.
Lex noted the bruises on his arms and ankles from where the ropes had dug in. The sickly yellow colour he'd been sporting earlier had improved to a whiter shade of pale, contrasting sharply with the large red 'S' painted onto his chest. Lex felt sickened at the sight, but there was no time to dwell on what he'd like to do if he ever met the culprits of this particular crime; Clark was already staggering to his feet.
"Clark sit down before you fall down!" Lex barked. Clark ignored him and hurriedly pulled on his jeans and shirt, hopping about crazily in the foliage. Several seams ripped in his haste to pull the items on, but Clark didn't appear to notice or care.
He paused for a split second to say a quick "Thank you," before he tore off through the corn, leaving the deadly necklace in a perplexed Lex Luthor's hand.
Lex rose to his feet slowly, watching the emerald shadows the small crystal played across his skin. The green jewel glinted mesmerisingly in the beam from the Porsche. For minutes on end he stared, transfixed at its deadly beauty, then his hand closed tightly around the sacred stone and a strange look crept into his eyes.
---
A sigh forced its way from Chloe's chest, and resigning herself to another night of lonely work on the Torch, she stood and brushed the dried leaves off her dress. She watched them drift to the floor absent-mindedly.
"Chloe!" a familiar voice suddenly exclaimed. Chloe looked up to see none other than Clark Kent running towards her.
"Clark! What are you doing here? And what happened to you?" she added, eyes flicking to his mucky and torn clothes and his wild hair.
"It doesn't matter, just get out of here, don't follow me!" With that he ran straight past her, in the direction of the hall. He paused long enough to call back a last warning. "Go straight home, Chloe!"
For a split-second, Chloe contemplated doing as he said and going home. Then she hitched her dress up and ran doggedly after him, ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that she guessed was her conscience.
---
Fuzzy, out of tune music crackled over the chatter. Clark had crept in through the back doors, the ones that the band used to enter and exit the stage to avoid being noticed, but from the level of noise he doubted he'd have been noticed even if he had burst in through the front doors.
The place was flooded. Water sloshed into his shoes when he leapt lightly down from a side of the stage, (the band were frantically trying to salvage any remaining electrical equipment they could), and the general direction people were heading in was the front door. Clark knew they wouldn't get very far, he'd noted the front door was locked tightly when he'd sped past. He hadn't even realised he'd bent steel in his bare hands in his haste to get through the back door.
Wading through the crowd until he was about knee-deep in water, Clark caught snippets of conversation that told him nobody really knew what was going on and nobody was really worried.
"Yeah, I can't wait to get home and dry off, my dress is so wet!"
"You can come back and dry off at my place, sweetie."
"Get a life, Jordan."
"I wonder why the sprinklers are malfunctioning?"
Once in the middle of the hall, Clark halted and squinted through the sprinkler water, looking for any sign of Jeremy. Advantages: Jeremy thought he was still tied up in the cornfield. Disadvantages: he'd only gotten a glimpse of Jeremy's face in the dark, couldn't see anyone that looked like him anywhere, and had no idea what Jeremy planned to do to exact this 'revenge' of his, other than get them all soaking wet, that was. Pneumonia, perhaps?
Just then, shouts came from the front of the steadily moving crowd. Apparently they'd discovered they were locked in.
The noise level rose a notch or two, the crowd began to jostle in different directions and… there was Jeremy standing in the middle of the currently dry stage.
Clark stared at him, but as far as he could tell there were no bombs, guns or knives on his person, which was odd… but what was it Chloe had said earlier? He was a suspected meteor freak… which meant he had some form of weird power, right? But what…?
It came to him in a flash. Jeremy was leaning down carefully, reaching towards the flooded floor with one hand. Jeremy himself was safe on the raised stage platform, but all these people…
"No!" Clark wasn't aware that he'd yelled or even moved, but suddenly he was knocking Jeremy backwards, away from the water, into the stage wall. It seemed like only a second ago he was standing almost a hundred yards away, then a rush of colour and wind, and he was pinning Jeremy to the wall. People were yelling behind him, and Clark vaguely thought he heard Lana's voice in the crowd. He hoped they were working on getting the front door open rather than attempting to get through the back door and perilously close to Jeremy in the process.
"You!" Jeremy spat angrily, recognising Clark instantly. "What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm helping you?"
Clark's eye narrowed as he felt blood pound in his ears. "I won't let you hurt my friends," he said as calmly as possible.
Jeremy looked taken aback, then a cunning smirk stretched his face. "They're not your friends… they betrayed you, used you… revenge is so close, so, so close…" His right hand had wormed its way free and he clenched it into a fist. Blue sparks danced around his fingers, shooting off in random directions periodically. "I have a gift, a purpose."
"So do I," Clark growled in a low voice.
In a flash Jeremy had forced his fist into Clark's face and they tumbled backwards, Clark twisting away to sever contact with the hand sending electricity dancing over his body. Jeremy flailed and kicked Clark in the ribs but he didn't feel it, and they were so close to the edge of the stage…
Clark knew he had to get Jeremy away from the water. Get him away, get him to stop. He could feel the astonished stares of the watching crowd on his back, flitting about like helpless flies in the face of a spider, but paid them no heed as he scrambled to his feet.
Jeremy was already backing away, sporting a split lip and a grimace.
"Jeremy, you need to stop this," Clark tried again. "Killing everyone won't accomplish anything."
Jabbing a finger in Clark's direction, Jeremy bristled, eyes thinning into dangerous slits with a hidden fire burning beneath. "You know how long I've waited for this day? Do you know how long I've suffered? Twelve years! Twelve years! I have the right - I've earned the right to revenge. What goes around comes around, right? 'Treat others as you wish to be treated.' Don't think you can take this away from me, freak."
Outwardly, Clark's stare hardened, inwardly, he flinched. He didn't have the time to prepare for Jeremy rushing forward and grabbing him by the neck. Electricity flooded over his body as the momentum of Jeremy's charge took them back to slam into the wall.
The meteor rock's effect still lingered, and Clark momentarily saw stars as the back of his head was rammed against the brick. He dropped quickly to the floor, leaving Jeremy towering over him. A cruel sneer split the man's face, and he again kicked Clark viciously in the ribs.
Clark bit back a groan and tried to stumble to his feet, but Jeremy was there, pinning him to the floor like some immovable weight. Cocking his fist and letting the electricity run wild across his clenched fingers, Jeremy smiled grimly into Clark's face, showing bloody teeth.
Then Jeremy yelled and rolled away, the electricity flooding back into his body. There Chloe stood, wielding the metal leg of a chair in her hands. Her hair was plastered across her face and eyes, her dress was drenched and muddy at the hem, and she was panting so hard she looked about ready to collapse, but Clark had never thought she'd looked more beautiful than she did at that moment.
"You didn't really expect me to just go home, did you?" she asked rhetorically, making the scene seem even more ludicrous.
A hand suddenly grasped her ankle and yanked. Clark yelled as she landed ungracefully on her back, hitting her head on the wooden floor and sliding a few feet until she lay precariously half on and half off the stage. Jeremy was on her in an instant, one hand pinned her by the throat and the other waited poised to strike as electricity gathered around his palm.
"Chloe!"
Jeremy paused and glanced up at Clark with a malicious grin. His hand hovered inches from Chloe's face, occasionally sparking hotly and causing Chloe to flinch.
"Jeremy, you don't want to do this," Clark said, cautiously reaching a hand out to the pair.
"Oh, but I do," he contradicted, voice as calm as Clark's. He returned his attention to Chloe. With the hand holding her he pressed down so that her spine was bent over the edge of the stage, the back of head touching the water beneath. She whimpered at the unnatural angle her body was forced into as she tried to lean back even further, away from Jeremy.
Then Jeremy's hand descended.
Chloe screamed.
She was still screaming when Clark gently set her down on the wet grass.
Bewildered, she looked about her and saw the rest of the school gathered in the parking lot, staring slack-jawed at the hall. She could see blue flashes of light from the gaps in between the mangled door. Jeremy was nowhere to be found.
At that moment Clark helped her lean against the nearest car where she could recover her breath. The movement snapped the gathered students out of their collective trance and they turned as one to stare at Clark.
There was complete silence for a moment then excited chatter broke out, along with a few wary looks but mostly looks of relief and gratitude. For that moment Clark stood in the centre of the crowd like a startled deer in the headlights.
In his shell-shocked state he thought he heard lots of shouts of "Thanks!" and "Cool man!" but what surprised him most was to spot none other than Josh Blake in the crowd. Their eyes locked for a second, glaring at each other above the students milling about, but then one side of Josh's mouth quirked upwards in barely detectable half-smile before he turned away and shouldered his way through the crowd, nearly knocking several people over.
Clark was almost tempted to smile at his retreating back, recognising an apology when he saw one. His almost-smile faded when he caught sight of Lana at the centre of the crowd; Whitney standing protectively at her side. She started to raise a hand to wave but Clark had disappeared in a flash of colour before she had chance to.
---
Even though Chloe was ninety-nine percent sure that she'd find Clark at Chandler's Field, she still breathed a sigh of relief to see him hunched over at the top of the creaky old windmill.
His back was to her, the setting sun casting his silhouette in black and projecting a red-orange hue onto the field. With another sigh, Chloe took a deep breath, took off her high heels and hitched up her skirt to ascend the ladder.
Her fancy dress kept catching on rusty nails, so it was a very tired and cranky Chloe Sullivan that appeared at the top of the platform and plonked herself down to a brooding Clark Kent. He looked her over intensely, concern flaring in his eyes as he saw a bruise above her eye. She smiled to show that she was fine. They didn't speak for a while, but that was ok somehow. It was ok to just sit and be quiet, watching the last of the sun's rays fight for dominance with roiling black clouds that threatened its reign.
At length, Chloe broke the stillness. "Thank you for saving my life."
Clark stirred and glanced at her warily for the first time. He said nothing but the question in his wide eyes said it all.
Chloe smiled softly. "It's ok, you know. Using your powers, I mean."
Clark's eyes widened even further then closed suddenly. He turned his head away, up to the sun.
"Everyone saw," he stated dully.
"Yes," Chloe replied truthfully. "They saw what they already knew you were capable of, it was no surprise." That last part was a bit of a lie, it really was a different thing to be told someone's from outer space and has amazing powers, it's another thing to be shown these amazing powers in a spectacular life or death fight.
"I guess." Clark said quietly, his shoulders hunched.
"You haven't used your powers for a long, long time, have you?" Chloe prodded gently. His head whipped up and he stared at her intently.
"No," Clark admitted eventually. "I… I sort of wanted to forget I had them. If I didn't use them they wouldn't be there… then all these memories would go… go away…" His eyes suddenly cleared of the far-off look and he shook his head angrily. "It didn't work. I still remember everything."
"What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger," Chloe murmured.
Clark nodded and sighed deeply. "Maybe. I wish it hadn't happened all the same."
"Hey," Chloe said, reaching out a hand to touch his tense shoulder. He jerked at her touch then froze. This time she didn't pull away but left her hand there, drawing lazy circles on his back. "It'll be ok. I promise. Nobody gives a rat's ass about what you can do."
Clark chuckled at her colourful use of language against his will and peered up at her from behind his fringe. "Really? You don't give a rat's ass?"
"No!" Chloe exclaimed vehemently, then more quietly, "No, no of course not. I actually think the superhero deal's kinda cool."
Clark smiled hesitantly. "I'm sorry about tonight. I should have been there for you."
Chloe shook her head and shuffled closer to him. "You were there for me," she protested firmly, looking up into his eyes. "Just not in the way I'd imagined," she added after a second's thought and they both laughed quietly.
The silly grin faded from her face when she realised how close they were… her eyes flicked down to his mouth then back up to his eyes, which seemed much more intense somehow…Clark's lips were so close…
She leaned up in a moment of recklessness, running her hand around the back of his head in his soft hair, and incredibly, he leaned down, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. Their lips finally met and Chloe melted against his chest, feeling sure that if he hadn't been there to catch her she would have swooned right off the windmill. The kiss was both passionate and sweet, passionate in the realization of new feelings and sweet in the hope of feelings to come.
They broke apart for air what seemed to them like only a second later, both gasping slightly. Chloe closed her eyes lazily, running over the sensations in her mind again. She felt a warm hand on her cheek and opened her eyes.
"What was that for?" Clark was asking breathlessly, and Chloe was pleased to see his pupils were dilated.
"I know you've been thinking about it since we met so I figured we'd get it out of the way and be friends," Chloe was even more pleased to see his smile fade at that last part. She took a breath then added nervously, "Or more than friends, if you liked it."
"I… I liked it," Clark said shyly, and it suddenly occurred to Chloe that that was his first kiss. An involuntary thrill ran through her at the thought that she was his first kiss.
"Good. 'Cause I liked it too," she replied, reeling in her dizzy grin that wanted to burst free.
"Ok?" Clark said. There was no need for him to explain what he meant; they both knew.
Chloe closed her eyes, letting the blissful grin spread over her face again. She leaned up and kissed him again, her lips lingering next to his ear once she'd pulled away.
"Ok," she confirmed in an enticing whisper. "Everything will be ok."
"You'll be ok," Lex promised, unable to disguise the urgency in his voice. Every few seconds he would check his watch and peer fretfully into the enclosing darkness. A tension so palpable Clark felt he could touch it hung in the air, heightening their paranoia.
Clark just nodded; throat dry as the Sahara desert. Hands pressed against the dividing glass door, he squinted in a vain attempt to see down the long dark corridor, but it was useless. He quickly pulled his hands away when the sting of green pain became too much.
At precisely 6:00pm Lex gave Clark one last reassurance, then reluctantly slipped away down the corridor.
Clark rocked back on his heels forlornly, glum with the knowledge that he was on his own from now on. He ran though the plan once again in his mind, checking for details with a thorough eye.
The wailing screech startled him even though he'd been waiting on tenterhooks for hours for it to sound.
Without a second's thought he shot to his feet and pressed on the glass door once more. It swung open with a sound like gunfire and suddenly he was running, sprinting down monotonous grey corridors that seemed to run beside him, pounding encouragement in his ear.
The alarm faded in and out of earshot with every speaker he flashed passed, jolting a rhythm in time with his heart. The marble was like ice on his bare feet and just as slippery, several times he almost fell, only to blunder against the nearest wall and somehow right himself. He took to running with one hand against the wall and watching his feet as he raced for his life, watching as his feet carried him closer and closer to freedom.
Lex had promised a family. School. Friends. A real life, like the one he used to take for granted all those years ago. The sterile lab had bleached those memories to something distant, intangible… until now.
Clark dared not let himself the luxury of smiling yet, but his heart felt considerably lighter as the open door came into sight. The light at the end of the tunnel. Giddiness threatened to overwhelm him.
A figure suddenly stepped into view at the end of the tunnel, a black silhouette of a man that obscured the beautiful light. Clark's joy plummeted and he skidded out of control on the shiny floor as he tried to stop.
Panting, he finally got his limbs under control and was on the point of turning back when the figure calmly raised his gun. Locked in place, Clark simply stared lifelessly at Lionel Luthor.
There was a soft click as Lionel pulled back the safety. "Hello, Clark. What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?" he said with the quiet voice of a predator.
Clark swallowed and said nothing.
"Surely you didn't think you'd get away with this, Clark?" Lionel continued with a patronising little laugh. "I mean, it's ridiculous, thinking you could escape all by yourself." He tilted his head mock-curiously. "But oh dear, you couldn't possibly have set the alarm off, could you? You were locked up at the time! Which means you must have an accomplice. Tell me now and it won't hurt as much."
Clark was sorely tempted to spit but unfortunately he'd been too 'locked up' to ever learn how. He settled for narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw.
Lionel's eyes narrowed too. His finger twitched angrily on the trigger, close, but not close enough to set the gun off.
"Tell me now!"
Clark raised his chin defiantly. "I'm not telling you anything."
"You insolent-"
Lionel's finger twitched violently on the trigger. There was a loud bang and a flash of blinding light.
Clark yelled and stumbled forwards. Shadows danced across the hallway, a contrast with the bright sunlight that made anything impossible to make out. As a result he almost tripped over Lionel's body. Blood pooled around his head like some sort of satanic halo. There was a perfectly round hole in his forehead, as if it'd been expertly drilled there. Lionel twitched for a few seconds, then lay still.
Above him Lex stood, a gun smoking gently in his outstretched hand.
Slowly he raised his eyes to Clark's. A moment of shocked silence passed between them, then Lex stuffed the gun into his pocket. He turned and walked to stand in the doorway, where he looked back at Clark over his shoulder almost nonchalantly.
"Coming?"
Shell-shocked, Clark nodded mutely and stepped over Lionel's body into the sunlight. It cascaded over him, glorious and tangible once more. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of freedom. The air was rank, smoky and thick, yet it had never smelt so good to Clark. Heavy raindrops plastered his shirt and dripped off the end of his nose but he laughed deliriously, there, amongst the rats and the dumpsters and the pouring rain, he laughed to be alive.
End of Part Eight
Aww this chapter makes me cry. Well, there's only an epilogue left now. It's not very long so I'll post it tomorrow. Thanks for reviewing, please do so again!