Eclipse

Chloe ran to keep up with Queen's long strides. Nearly as tall as Clark, but older, closer to Lex's age maybe, Chloe found herself mildly intrigued with this Good Samaritan whose reputation was as infamous as Lionel Luthors was, if for different reasons. What she knew about Oliver Queen wouldn't fill a classified ad, but Chloe figured the young tycoon's politics had gotten him more heat than most men could stand. Now, Oliver Queen strode through the ruined streets of Metropolis, carrying Lionel Luthor and barely breaking a sweat. Occasionally, he'd look behind him to make sure Chloe was keeping pace.

The heliport appeared before them, and Chloe felt in her bones that it wasn't going to be that simple, just crossing the street and getting to the helicopter. Apparently, neither did Oliver, setting Lionel down gently and reached up to unzip the oblong black bag on his shoulder.

"Stay near me, Chloe. Hold on to Lionel as best as you can. If I tell you to run, do it." Oliver said quietly, eyeing the alcoved doorways of the riverfront condos and office buildings. Chloe couldn't see anything, but Oliver did, because he moved to obscure Chloe and Lionel from view very quickly.

"Hey, pretty boy." A rough looking group of men slithered from the doorways. "You look like you're in a hurry. All business in that fancy dark suit. Things have changed here in Metropolis. The have nots are in control, and guys like you are just ripe for the picking."

"Now, see, this is where I have to ask you." Oliver Queen pulled out a long powerful looking bow and with it an arrow tipped with what looked like a grappling hook. "Do you really want to play games with me? I'm 1,500 miles from home in a strange city. How about some of that famous Metropolis hospitality?" He loaded the bow with the arrow, and whispered to Chloe. "When I let this go, run like hell. Drag Luthor if you have to, but get out of here."

Chloe nodded, eyes wide, and Lionel looked up weakly, taking in their situation without a sound. The group of men across from them grumbled amongst themselves, but one, obviously their leader, wiped his nose on his hand, then swaggered closer.

"What are you going to do, trust fund? Shoot us with that thing?" The leader of the group sneered, and Oliver drew the arrow back, aiming carefully, saying nothing.

"GO." Oliver bellowed, letting the arrow fly. Chloe ran, grasping Lionel's hand tightly. The older Luthor also ran, faster than Chloe would have thought. She heard the arrow hiss through the air, a whooshing, swooping sound followed by a thick cry of pain. Chloe did not dare turn until they crossed the street. Gasping, Chloe turned, to see the odd arrow release a thin wire cord and swoop around the group of men, returning to Oliver's hand, like a boomerang. The rest of the wire rope was looped in his hand, and Oliver pulled the lasso together, baling the would be attackers together as if they were no more than large logs for firewood. Tossing the grappling hook, Oliver looped it around a light post and finished securing the four men tightly. The leader was lying on the floor, holding his groin, Oliver's long bow beside him on the ground. Oliver stooped to pick up his bow, and looked into the man's face.

"Next time, when you have a choice, between being hospitable or being hostile, I hope you'll know what to do." Oliver instructed, sliding the bow back into his bag. "I'd hate to have to remind you." He straightened, and walked quickly to Chloe and Lionel.

"Hey, Goldilocks, when I tell you to run like hell, that doesn't mean stand across the street and stare at me." Oliver snapped, taking Lionel's arm. "I bought us a few minutes." He helped Lionel to the helicopter with a gentleness that belied his obviously angered state. Lionel's steps were labored, but he kept up, leading Oliver to the helicopter, which was mercifully unharmed.

"First, don't call me Goldilocks." Chloe retorted, hurrying to keep up with Queen's long strides, "Second, where did you learn to shoot like that? And where did you get those arrows?"

"That's three questions. Save the other seventeen for the flight to where ever it is we're going." Oliver lifted Lionel into the helicopter, and then swung himself into the pilot's seat. "Where ARE we going?"

"Smallville." Chloe replied, hopping into the seat beside Queen. "I have to find someone."

Lana woke up; her back hurting from sleeping slumped over a conference room table. Rising from her chair, she stretched taking slow steps to the plate glass window to look out. Before her lay a city in turmoil - fires and smoke everywhere. Lana rubbed her eyes, confusion drifting over her face where sleep had been just moments before. It all seemed like a bad dream, Lana thought as she turned away from the window, hands to her mouth. Lex was sitting in a large chair silently watching her. His face was smooth, expressionless, and the chill that ran up Lana's spine warned her against smiling at him.

"Lex?" She said tentatively, taking a step in his direction and then stopping. "Are you okay?"

Lex tipped his head, his grey eyes glinting like freshly polished steel. "Why do you ask me that?"

"You don't seem like yourself." Lana offered, as he rose from the chair, the long leather trenchcoat he wore unfurling itself behind him like large wings. "With all this going on outside, for you to be just, sitting there…."

"I'm thinking of when," a small pause, "Clark," he resumed again after a brief smirk dented the corners of his mouth, "confronts you. What will you do? What will you say to him when he stands before you and asks how you could stay with the monster that created all of this?" Lex asked, his voice even and flat. He had moved to the window, close to her. Lana could feel him breathing, even with the short distance between them. The scent of the leather coat and his cologne made Lana feel safe, in spite of her instincts, which hummed mercilessly in warning.

"You?" Lana's eyes narrowed. "You didn't create this!" Her voice grew thin with shock.

"It's impossible!"

Lex nodded. "That is what you would say? In my defense?"

"Of course. One man could not have brought this kind of disaster down on Metropolis alone." Lana turned toward him and grabbed his hand. "Why would you think that?"

When he turned to look down into her face, Lana suddenly realized that she wasn't speaking to Lex at all. A cruel, cold smile played on the mouth that she had grown to crave, and a sharp, evil expression crept onto his usually mild face. "Because, I AM responsible for every tear being shed on this whole planet right now. Every drop of blood, every scream of pain that breaks the air, every moan of despair belongs to me." His hand caught hers, icy cold and as vicious as a bear trap. "You are the jewel in my crown of torment, my dear. The perfect gem of torture that will bring everything I desire into my grasp."

"LEX!" Lana tried to pull her hand free, but Lex would not let go. She could feel the small capillaries in her hand pop, sensing the instant, dark bruise that welled up on her smooth hand. "You're not well…you've been strained….angry with Clark…" Lana winced from the pain, but Lex did not let go, but increased the pressure of his grip, threatening to break the delicate bones of her hand.

He shook his head. "That is what I find most compelling about you, young one. You never cease to be devoted. Always seeking an excuse. My anger with," again, a pause, before he continued, amused, "Clark Kent is only part of what my plans are. It fuels my drive, but not the reason for it." He looked down at her hand, admiring the black bruising under her skin. "How little you truly understand about what is at work around you."

"I want to know…"Lana gasped, and his face once again became devoid of expression, just the cold glare of his grey eyes, spearing her. "If I can help you…."

"My dear one." He reached up to touch Lana's face, with no absolutely tenderness at all. His skin on her cheek sent waves of frostbite through her. "To know and understand what really goes on around you? The feelings, motivations and pain of all those you claim to hold dear?" He appraised Lana coolly. "You are not strong enough for such knowledge. It would break you to pieces. Your fears keep you bound to me. " He turned away from Lana, dismissing her, disdain dripping from every word. "But I will make sure you know all you need to know. That time is not yet."

Lana looked around helplessly, her heart beating against her ribs as if trying to run away. And she realized, rubbing her sore hand, that there was no going back anymore. Lex had tried to warn her, and now it was too late. For good or bad, Lana was in too deep. Suddenly, the conference room they were standing in felt very much like a tomb.

Martha Kent sat up, her hands going to the oxygen mask on her face. The plane had landed. She saw Lois, lying on the floor near the cockpit doors, and Martha gasped, tearing the mask off. Crawling on all fours, she reached Lois and gathered the girl into her lap.

"Lois!" Martha cried out, noting with some relief that Lois was still breathing. "Wake up!"

"She will not wake for quite some time." Martha looked up at the sound of the voice. Clark's former History professor stood before her, a slender figure all in black, looking down on her impassively. "It's just you and I for the moment. You can speak freely, she will not hear you."

"Professor Fine? Where have you taken us? What do you want?" Martha asked, putting her arms around Lois protectively. "People are going to notice that we're missing, eventually. You won't get away with this."

"You, Mrs. Kent, are leverage." Fine replied simply. "You are a pawn in my master's ultimate design but with an important role yet to play. Right now, your world is falling apart, literally. No one will notice you are missing for now. "

"Your master?" Martha repeated quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Martha Kent. Surely Kal-El has not kept you in the dark about the coming of Zod?" Fine knelt down, getting to Martha's level, and shook his head sympathetically. "A very serious oversight. General Zod, the great conqueror, has arrived here on your planet, and currently lays waste to every major city of the world. Kal-El has been sent to the Phantom Zone, but it will not hold him long. When Kal-El returns, He will be given a choice, and if he chooses correctly, you and this girl will live."

"Clark will not do anything he knows is wrong, just to save me." Martha squared her shoulders and glared defiantly at Fine. "You cannot make him do what you want."

"Mrs. Kent, do you remember that illness you had last year?" Fine's eyes traced the places on Martha's face and neck where the black, spidery blotches had appeared, and Martha raised a hand to her face instinctively, self-consciously. "You do. Remember the pain, the anguish of it? That is how you will die if he does not do as my master wants. And in watching you die, and this girl die, Kal-El will be broken. All those whom Kal-El calls friend will dies that same terrible, painful death until he agrees. To save the lives of all those people, Mrs. Kent, you are the bait. And it will be you who convinces Kal-El to join my master."

"Clark won't put the rest of the world at risk to save me." Martha replied. "And there is nothing you can do to make me go along with this."

"There is actually much I could do." Fine said, his voice calmly malevolent. "I have spent these many months learning all the various ways your kind torments itself. Plus, I have at my disposal methods of torture that have never been seen on your planet. But, you are too valuable for me to damage." Fine's appearance changed. Martha gasped in horror as her own face formed where Fine's once had been and smiled at her coldly. "So, I will be waiting for Kal-El in your place."

Lex had watched Clark disappear through the walls of the Phantom Zone in horror at first, and then, unreasonably, a bloom of pride swelled within him. It was far from anything Lex could consider, being here like this. Certainly nothing in his dealings with Fine had led Lex to the conclusion that this endless, blank space would be then of all things. But, Lex now had access to vast amounts of information, about Clark's origins, and the nature of the universe outside the small galaxy that Earth was part of. Not having a body had its advantages, Lex thought, drifting through the void, past alien criminals of every variety. Even if they were sitting less than five feet apart, most were caught up in their own thoughts, oblivious to the being beside them. Which made them completely unaware of Lex's presence as he lurked among them. Lex studied the prisoners carefully, listening to their muttered dreams as they slept. Their own crimes held them here just as surely as any prison on Earth could keep murderers and felons away from the general population of the world. It was ingenious. Soon enough, Lex found the person he was looking for. Ursa sat, her head buried in her hands, with her back against the wall of the Zone. Sensing his presence, Ursa looked up, and sniffed the air.

"You cannot hide from me, primate." Ursa spat, her eyes seeming to glow in the gloom around her. "Even without your shell I can still sense you, squirming around like insect larvae. What do you want?"

"To pass the time." Lex said, using his most charming manner. "To hear all about Krypton, Zod and Jor-El."

"Go away." Ursa waved her hand, as if shooing a fly. "Leave me in peace." She dropped her head back down onto her forearms.

"We both have a great deal in common." Lex continued, maneuvering the conversations as carefully as any business negotiation. "Zod took my body and my girlfriend." Ursa looked up again, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Seems to me he took something from you too. Why don't we see what we can do to come to some understanding, between us? For when we get out of here." Lex smiled, unsure of Ursa could see it. Apparently, she could, because a similar smile ran across her porcelain mask of a face in reply.

"I'm intrigued, primate. What about the son of Jor-El? He is your friend. Would you betray him by allying with me?" Ursa raised one eyebrow skeptically. "He seemed to be determined to free you at the same time he escaped."

"Clark and I have an understanding." Lex replied, inwardly laughing at all the times he and Clark had worked against each other in the name of their friendship. This was just one more of those times.

Space was cold. Bitterly cold. Clark squinted against the white brightness of the Earth and wondered how cold it was, exactly. But the air in Clark's lungs had crystallized, making any breath he was able to take send shock waves of ice through his body. It was almost funny, Clark thought, could barely feel temperature change anymore was freezing his butt off as he shot toward Earth and away from the place where Zod had hoped to trap him. Resisting the urge to look back, Clark pushed forward, almost afraid that in looking back, he would see Lex staring out from the flat panes of the Phantom Zone. The speed of his flight froze him, stung his face, but Clark willed himself on, increasing his velocity. The green and blue curve of the Earth invited him to come home. Clark closed his mind to any other thoughts except making sure he survived this flight. And this first flight was more than diving from the high board at the Smallville High pool, too. That was scary. This was more than frightening, more than terrifying. Clark could not think of words to describe how horrible this experience was for him. His fear of flying washed over him in a nauseating flood. Distracted, he wavered; nearly losing his carefully maintained trajectory. In his mind's eye, Clark could see the hallucinations Ursa had tried to torment him with, his mother unconscious, possibly dead. Chloe being attacked by a mob, Lionel being tortured. The images were almost too much to bear, but they did for Clark what no other incentive could have.

There was no time for feeling sick and light headed, he told himself, balling his fists and pushing himself faster. Chloe might be right, and he may not be able to save everyone. But Clark was damn sure going to try, or die in the process. Puncturing the atmosphere, Clark gained an immediate acquaintance with the spectrum of color and pain associated with the word hot. Oxygen that had crystallized in his lungs expanded instantly, causing Clark's ribs and chest to throb mercilessly. The thin material of his jacket and shirt burned away, his skin reddening, his jeans taking more abuse, darkening along the seams before he could slow down at about 50,000 feet above sea level. None of this mattered, of course, and as Clark descended toward Earth, feeling the cooling winds soothe him. Clark allowed himself to hover; half believing it was possible, straining his ears to find some sign of his mother, of Chloe. He could see the clouds of black smoke interspersed across the continents. The idea that Fine's virus was causing worldwide panic and disaster made Clark feel physically ill again. Before he could think anymore, Clark turned toward North America and home.