Hi everyone! YAY! A new chapter! This chapter was really hard to write; I've had this terrible mental block since I wrote the last chapter. I got halfway through and I couldn't go any further. I wound up rewriting the entire thing almost completely, and here it is. I'm not happy with the finished product, but it will serve as a bridge to the next installment of the story.
So enjoy, and don't forget to review!
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Clark wakes up cold. Smiley's breath whispers across the pillow and into his ear, and for one crazy instant Clark wants to just smother her. Kill her, so that there are no witnesses to what he's done. Crush her like he wants to crush the guilt that boils and festers inside him. He wants to hurt her so bad he can almost taste it.
She shifts and the spell breaks, and the guilt seems to grow and seethe and writhe in him. He rolls out of her loose embrace and lands, feet planted, on the cool wooden floor. He's woken up this way far too many times, and it's something he's getting tired of.
The lights in the kitchen are off, and he doesn't bother to turn them on. The light from the open fridge door is all the illumination he needs.
Clark pulls out a bottle of water and chugs it. He contemplates pouring the dregs over his head, but stops himself; that's something Kal would do. Something inside him scoffs that he's worried about the floor getting wet after everything else he's done, but Clark can't let that kind of thinking overpower his though processes ever again.
It's been four weeks since his harrowing confession, four weeks in which Clark waited tensely for the other shoe to drop. He's been waiting for a calling-out from Smiley that he knows now will never come.
He tells himself he can be free from the guilt and the shame, but he knows, even if Smiley gives him all the absolution she can afford, he'll never be free of it. He knows, better than anyone, that the part of him that he hates doesn't live inside of the red rock, it lives inside him. It's always been there and there it will remain.
One glance at the clock on the microwave and Clark grimaces. 4:49. Too late to go back to bed, too early to wake Smiley.
He takes a seat at the picture window in the living room, staring out at the sleeping city. Of course, as they say, Gotham never sleeps. There are taxicabs puttering through the streets and newspapers being delivered and billboard ads being changed. The sun has not yet risen, and he won't be able to see it peek over the concrete horizon for at least another hour and a half.
That short time will give him time to think about the coming day. Clark has decided that something must be done; he can't keep living his life in constant fear and incessant guilt.
Reflecting on everything that has happened in Gotham since he and arrived, Clark comes to one conclusion. Everything seems to revolve around Smiley. Each separate incident-the modelling, the murder, the bank robbery, the apartment-leads Clark back to the same thing, and he's never felt more like a child. There's something absolutely terrifying about falling in love for the first time, and Clark hasn't done it in any normal way, either.
He knows, beyond a doubt, that there is only one avenue for him to take. There is only one possibility, and it is one he contemplates with more than a little dread. The thought of leaving Smiley is—unbearable, but Clark has to face up to his demons. He has to confront everything he left behind, including his parents.
But how? How can he go back there? What is there for him but heartbreak and sorrow? What's the point of returning and stirring up more trouble? Clark doesn't doubt that everyone has moved on, he remembers hazily the short visit he made to the barn, and the conversation he heard. His parents seemed well on their way to accepting that he was gone, and who was he to break their peace?
And how can he face Lana and Chloe after what he did to them? He abandoned Lex at his wedding, and it was his fault Martha lost the baby.
Not for the first time, Clark feels like giving into his anger and frustration, flinging open the freezer door, and jamming that glowing red rock back onto his finger. The thought makes him shudder, and he's not sure whether it's from fear or anticipation, or even a mixture of both.It makes him feel ill.
The red kryptonite is like a drug, every day he craves it, and the cravings never lessen, though he has learned how to ignore them somewhat. It's only in times of emotional turmoil that he's really susceptible to the lure of the ring. It's days like these that he hates the most:
Some days he's sure of his path. He has a physical and emotional obligation to Smiley, he truly can't stand the though of leaving her. His past is his past and his future is in Gotham. He's going to become a morally upright citizen of the city, and never look back. Looking back will only remind him of troubled and unhappy times.
Today is not one of those days.
"Kal?" He hears the voice an instant before he feels the hand on his shoulder, and wonders exactly when he fell asleep. The sun is well above the jutting horizon, and shining brightly into his bleary eyes.
"Mmph." He says, eloquently.
"Come on, get up. Have some breakfast." Smiley hauls him to his feet and he follows her to the kitchen. He watches as she cuts a bagel in half and puts it in the toaster. "What's going on, Kal?" She asks probingly.
"What do you mean?"
"What's with the brooding?" Smiley cracks three eggs into a small frying pan.
"Brooding?" He plays stupid.
"If I'm going to be here for a long time, I need to know something about the man I'm with." Clark can hear it in her voice; when she says man, she means boy.
"I don't own you any explanations." He replies snappily.
"What do you mean, you don't own me any explanations? I killed a man for you. I think I deserve something." Her voice is deathly quiet. She and Clark have never spoken about the incident in the bank, and it wasn't something he was expecting from her. But there it was, plain as day.
"Every crazy thing that has happened in this city, we have looked after each other! Every time you needed something I gave what I had! I don't get it? What more do I have to do for you to trust me? After everything you've done, I kind of expected you to want at least one person you can talk to! Why not me?"
"Well," Clark says, regretting the words even before they escape his lips, "How do you talk to the girl who whored herself out to you for food and a joyride?"
"What the fuck, Kal!" Smiley cries, forgetting the eggs and pulling at the roots of her messy hair. "Who the hell are you?"
Clark's shoulders tense. "I'm nobody. My life didn't start until I came to Gotham with you."
"Don't give me that shit!" He marvels at the words flowing between them. It's almost as if he's watching a movie that ploughs fatefully toward the end, where nothing he can say or do will stop the final action. "I'm not stupid! So you ran away from home. I'm not going to judge you and I'm not going to hate you for it!"
"What do you want from me?" Clark goes on the defensive. "I know even less about you than you know about me!"
"Well I'd tell you if you bothered to ask!"
"Well I'd have asked if I was interested." Clark feels a clammy dread sinking into his bones. He can almost hear the ring calling to him from the freezer. Don't be such a coward, it says, show her who's the boss!
For the first time in a long time, Clark succumbs tothat darkinner voice, and does something he's quite sure he'll regret for a very long time.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I haven't done it yet, but I know it's long overdue, so:
Thanks to
Katie: Thank you so much! I'm so glad that you enjoy the character of Smiley. The biggest problem I find is that people tend to make theiroriginal characterskind of black or white. Humans react in different ways depending on so many factors; food, sleep, environment, stress, and outside stimuli in addition to their own personality. The basic building blocks are there that tell you how your character is going to react, but if you don't take into account the otherrelevant factors, your character will always react in the same way. It's really nice to see that people recognise the work that goes into making a believable OC.
CrashSlayer: Yes I had writer's block and I had to force myself to get past this chapter. It was hard but worth it, and the action is going to pick up a lot in the next few months! I'm excited! The ideas are flowing! And thank you so much for every review you've given me. I'm so flattered that you like my story!
MaryElise: I couldn't make Clark go running back to his parents! He has responsibilities in Gotham, now. He also has to face the consequences for the crimes he committed. I.E. Bank robber and murder. Thanks for all your reviews, I love it when people review more than once, it means people really care about the story.
Andalsoto: cursedgirl, joe smith, puffyBear, jw, Irene, Dreamkoko, YokoYuyGal, Hanntil mahha, Cammie, sassoune, Woelfle, south manager 04, Lindsay1, DuMont, focker876
I really value reviews, even if they're just to say 'I really liked your story' or 'you made an error here' or 'why did you do this'. It lets me know that people are reading and appreciating what I'm writing. So I can't thank everyone enough for all the reviews.
And please, don't stop now. Keep reviewing!