Just Shut Up Already!
Chapter 11
Summary: Chloe has been threatened. Again. And again. But enough about that! Did you see Lana Lang's new coat? It's so pretty! She's so pretty!
A/N: Yes, I know. It's been a really long time. It's not my fault, I swear! I haven't had a computer of my own in 8 months, and then after that I couldn't write more chapters because I had 2 chapters unposted on my broken computer and I hate rewriting. Also, the Smallville gang is all in college now, but if you don't mind a little blast from the past, and some story lines that have been dropped and forgotten (note that I didn't say resolved) from the show, then please tell me if this is worth continuing.
I call Clark from the parking lot of the Sunny Farm Insane Asylum. He gives me an update but it's really nothing new. The older, eviler Luthor has refused to reveal anything about my wannabe killer. But he insists that I should call him. So we can, like totally, talk about clothes and boys, I assume.
Which reminds me, I have a certain boy that I need to talk to. According to MapQuest, it'll take another forty minutes driving time to get to my destination and two hours to get back to Smallville. Not that I'm in a hurry to get back. In fact, it would probably be smart to skip town for a while.
But no bastard is going to run me out of my town. It may be Boreville, but it's my home. So screw you Mister Killer Man. Screw you Luthors. Screw you Miss LeMonte. It'll take more than threats and annoyance to scare me. Look at me, I've been friends with Lana Lang for almost four years.
Mrs. Ross looks surprised when I knock on the door.
"Chloe! Oh my, we thought you were dead!"
Soon, Mrs. Ross. Soon.
"We went to your funeral over the summer," she yammers, not looking me in the eyes. Maybe she thinks I'm a zombie. Brains! BRAINS!
I'm sorry for that. I have no idea what just came over me.
"Oh yeah. That. It's a long story. Abridged version: I was in Lex Luthor's version of the witness protection services. So, uh, gotcha!"
I'm feeling a little awkward here. But I have to admit, that 'gotcha' thing is pretty freaking hilarious. She doesn't seem to get the joke. She just looks, I don't know. Sad?
"Is Pete home?"
She seems relieved. She calls for him while ushering me inside. The house is a complete replica of the Smallville home they had all those years ago. I remember hanging out on that same purple couch talking about Clark's obsession with Lana or Clark's latest antics or…. well basically we talked about Clark. No wonder he doesn't call me. Still, that's no excuse.
Pete freezes when he sees me. "Chloe. What are you doing here?"
"Brains! BRAINS!" I say, arms hung in front of me. He looks confused. He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Sorry, inside joke." Inside joke with myself! Now that's pathetic.
"Okay…." He looks around the room, nervously.
"I take it by your reaction to me that you knew I was alive."
"Clark told me."
"And you didn't tell your mom? I guess it just slipped your mind."
I'm about to go into a rant, but Pete interrupts. "Chloe, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"
"Shouldn't you?"
"School here is a little different. I go Monday, Tuesday, and Fridays in my senior year."
"Ah."
Awkward moment.
Very awkward. We never had these moments before.
"Is there something you wanted to say, or was this a social visit because I, uh,-"
I cut him off. "Save it. I want answers to my questions, then I'll be out of your hair." Oops, right don't mention hair. " I'll be out of your life if that's what you want."
"Chloe…."
"Save it. Why did you never call me? And why are you acting so cold right now? And if the answer is because you hate me, then why did you go to my funeral?"
"Chloe, I don't hate you."
Tears boil in my eyes. They sting, but damn it, they aren't coming out. Not again. "Please explain all of this to me. I'm having a very bad week and I don't think I can handle not getting my way."
"If I explain everything, then will you leave?"
I sigh. "Yes."
"Promise, no matter what?"
"Yes!" Did that sound too eager?
"A couple of months before your death fake out, Lionel Luthor paid me a visit at school. He, uh, said he wanted to destroy you…. mentally. If I contacted you, he'd kill you. Or, um, have you killed. When you died, or um I guess not really but, uh, I felt really guilty, because you know…. I always did what he said, but maybe if I had contacted you, you would have been safe."
I don't quite agree. I've been warned about my death recently and have so far done squat.
"When Clark said you were alive I, well I guess the word relieved can't really explain it. But your attempted murder proved to me that even from jail Luthor could get to you. And now that he's out…"
"Recently he told me he called everybody and reneged his threats."
"He did but about an hour later, somebody else called and said that he knew about Lionel Luthor's threat and he was 'reinstating the threat'. You would be dead. And so would my mother and father."
Brain can't compute.
"I'm so sorry, Chloe." He's the only person I really believe when he says that. "You know I would never hurt you."
"I know, I know." I smile. He smiles. It's a very cute moment.
I won't argue with him. I won't tell him that he shouldn't buy into threats.
I kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry about your parents and don't worry about me."
"But,"
"Don't worry," I repeat. "I'm on the case."