By StoryMaker8931
Clark awoke the same time as any normal day, and to him weekends were considered the same, a normal day. The sun was shining just as bright as any morning, but this time, he didn't put aside any time to stare at it. Sunsets were his and Lana's thing to do, but when the sun rose in the morning, it was kind of like his greeting to start the day. He'd been giving this little greeting since he was young, or at least he was told. He got out of his bed as normally as he would each and every morning, he never felt the need to greet his bed. The very thought just sounded silly. Besides, he'd just spent a fair amount of hours sleeping in the same position. The bed had seen enough of him. And he'd seen enough of it.
He walked along the floor as normal as ever, as he walked up to his dresser, opening the top drawer and taking one peek, and in under a minute he had exactly what he wanted. White shirt, blue stripped funnel shirt, and he knew he could find either the red jacket, or the dark blue one somewhere downstairs. Either would do. There wasn't really anything different from the way he, a teenage boy, got ready. Boys are less likely to care about their clothing, and their hair, unlike girls. When Clark thought about it, he'd offend get a headache. The thought was just strange to even waste brain power thinking about.
He left his room, forgetting to close the door again, as he headed down the stairs. Lucky enough for him, the ceiling was higher up this time, so he never thought to worry about his head hitting it. He was very tall for his age. His eyes met those of his parents, and as he remembered to check the living room for either of his jackets, he finally found one. It was the dark blue one. He picked it up and carefully laid it front up on the couch. He wasn't quite sure if he'd need it, but there were still chores to do, so he was always prepared.
''Find what you needed, Clark?'' he heard his mom ask. From the kitchen, he nodded slowly as he picked back up the blue jacket, holding it in the air, as Martha's eyes stared at it.
''You were looking for your jacket? If you wanted to, I could get your red one? I've seen you wear that one, much more than the blue one. It's just in the laundry. It wouldn't be a problem.''
''I'm fine, mom, but thank you, I appreciate it. But the blue one is pleasant too! It brings out the color of my eyes.'' Clark flattered, as he brushed his finger around his eyes, blinking quickly, as if he was some kind of teenager girl, who just got stared at by a cute boy. His mother laughed a little, as she brought a plate of eggs and another plate of pancakes, along with bacon to the table. As she thought about traveling a little lighter for the breakfast menu, Jonathon, who sat in his regular chair, with his regular newspaper, and coffee, lifted one hand up, clenching his fingers down around the plate. He helped place it. In the middle with everything else was where it belonged. And as Clark walked around to the other side of the counter, he opened the fridge, carefully grabbing two glasses from the cupboard, as he reached for a third one.
''Chores to do today, Clark?'' his dad asked over a mouthful of food.
''Yes, same as every morning, dad.'' he replied.
''Well, you don't have to sound so excited about it, son. You're allowed to be grumpy at this time? Normal teenagers don't even get up till noon.''
''If they even get up at all.'' Martha chipped in.
''Good thing I'm not normal, then.'' Clark replied bringing the two glasses to the table where he returned to the counter for the third one. Placing his cup down in his usual stop, as Martha took her cup from his hands, placing it down in front of her. Jonathon, who was to invested in the newspaper, didn't even notice that he had juice, and once he finally noticed, almost knocked it over with his elbow. But as fast as Clark was, he quickly grabbed it before it fell. Not even a single drop of the juice poured out.
''Excellent catch, son.''
''Jonathon? Could you please put down the newspaper, so you can eat your breakfast?'' Martha complained through a few bites of her pancake.
''I am eating my breakfast? Can't you tell?'' Jonathon barked, as he stuck out his tongue, so Martha could see the little bits of bacon still siting there.
''Jonathon!'' Martha shouted, quick to throw a few pieces at him, as she missed her aim. The bacon falling to the floor as Jonathon fought to catch them.
''What a normal breakfast.'' Clark whispered through tiny laughs.
''We're not a normal family, Clark. As you'll be the first to know.'' Jonathon chuckled.
''Oh, I know, dad.'' he replied as he took a few forks full of eggs, combining it with bacon, all in his mouth at once. Jonathan, even though he had his newspaper down just like Martha had asked of him, didn't mean he was completely out of jokes. He could tell Martha seemed a little tense, so as a suitable husband, it was his duty to try to cheer her up. As he rose from his chair, slowly stepping over to the side, where Clark sat, Clark's looking to the side, to see his dad staring at him. But before he moved, he felt his father's hand on his shoulder, slowly telling him to lower his head, so he could whisper something to him. As Clark did what he was secretly told too, Martha watched, unimpressed, as she finished the last of her eggs, and moved onto two pieces of bacon. She wasn't one to eat a whole plate full of bacon, but she knew she had two guys in the house. That surely would.
''We can't do that? She'll ground both of us?'' whispered Clark, as he replied to his father. Jonathan looked at him with wide eyes, before settling back down in his chair. As he could lift the newspaper again, hoping to hold it up close enough so it could cover his entire face, he waited for his plan. As Clark sat in his chair for a few seconds more, he used his super-speed and was up before Jonathan was. As everything slowed down around him, he was quick to get out the door. And in a few seconds, his own master plan was done, and completed. Now all he had to do was wait to see his father's reaction.
What was mean't to be a prank pulled on his Mom, from his Dad, would be reversered. His Dad would get an enormous surprise when he came outside. As Clark super-sped himself back into the house, quickly slipping back into his chair, as a gust of wind returned everything to the normal speed. Jonathan was the first to notice something was odd. As he found Clark's nervous green eyes, he got up slowly.
''What'd'you do, son?'' he asked in a rather indistinct voice, hoping he could catch Clark cracking under pressure. Jonathan was always great at finding out when Clark had done something. And right now, his Dad alarm was set to high and ringing. As he quickly headed past the living room, and over to the front door, he pointed with his finger at the door, and smiled.
''You did something to the barn? Right? Or is that not it?'' he asked. Jonathan knew it had to be something, but he wasn't sure what. Since Clark had super-speed, it was rather difficult to notice when something was different or something had changed something. He always gave up, and hoping Clark would let him in on the little joke, but Clark would not do. At least not this time. So as Jonathan walked out the door, it was just Clark and Martha sitting at the table. Martha, who was rather interested to be let in on the prank, turned to look at him. Her eyebrows raised as she finished the last remaining pieces of her bacon.
''Clark? What'd'you do?'' she asked.
''I painted one truck pink, knowing Dad had to use it today.'' Clark chocked. As Martha's face brightened up, and a smile formed on her face, she paused. ''What if he just takes the other one?'' she asked.
''I flattened the tires on the other one. Surely he must use the one I painted.'' Clark replied, a bright smile on his face.
''Clever, sweetheart, brilliant. Just hope your Dad doesn't make you come along to pick up supplies, if you're supposed to do chores with him? That might involve running to the department store.''
As Clark got deeper into his thoughts, his eyes widened as he heard the front door open again. And there was his father. Hands on his hips, and a rather unhappy glare to go with it.
''Just for that, your coming with me, for supplies.'' Jonathan said, pointing to himself, then back at Clark. Clark frowned as he pressed his face against the table, grunting and groaning, as he knew he messed up. As Martha slowly gathered up a few of the empty plates, she couldn't help herself but scan the front page of the newspaper, since it had been left open, she was fairly interested, but as her brain formed connections to what she was reading, she gasped, almost dropping the plates if it hadn't been for Jonathan who got himself close to her, holding his hands out, catching the few plates. As he put them safely down on the counter behind him, he placed his attention onto Martha, who has his own eyes wandered, picking up the newspaper, and him too, reading the big bold letters. The two of them shared the same expression, and as Clark finally held his head up, he stared at the with confusion.
''Something wrong?'' he asked.
''How could he still be alive?!'' Martha shouted. ''He got shot right here, we both saw it!'' Jonathan turned to face his wife, his hands pressed lightly onto her shoulders, as he pulled her closer to him. Clark who got up from his chair, reached for the newspaper, interested to see what was wrong with his parents, but Jonathan was quicker, and scooped it up, holding it, and keeping it hidden from him.
''What's wrong with you two?'' Clark asked. ''Something you don't want me to see?''
''He should know, Jonathan? After all, he was a part of it.'' Martha sighed. ''We've been protecting him for five years, now that's he older, he'll have more of a chance of being careful.'' Jonathan nodded and sighed as he laid the paper out back on the table. As Clark scanned every inch of the paper, he read the letters out loud, then made sense of it in his head.
(Bipolar patient, and local gunmen, Jack Carter, proclaimed alive, after proclaimed dead at Kent Farm)
As Clark brought his eyes down to the rest of the page, he scanned it. His eyes moving back and forth, as to make sure he got every word.
(Bipolar patient and local gunmen, Jack Carter, was proclaimed dead, after being shot in the head, by an officer, at the scene of a hostage situation. Proclaimed to be seen leaving town just this morning, officers are making sure everyone is aware of how dangerous, and sick, Jack Carter is. Everyone is to remain on high alert until the police can give some statements on the news later today. )
''I don't understand, what does the farm have to do with this man?'' Clark asked, looking up at both Martha and Jonathan, eager for answers. ''And why does it say they presumed him dead, but was seen leaving town this morning? What is going on?!''
''Clark? Let us explain. ''Martha mumbled, as she guided him back down to his chair at the table. Jonathan followed slowly behind, taking a seat in the chair next to him, as Martha moved herself closer. So Clark had both of them on both sides of him.
''About five years old, there was an instant on the farm. A man named Jack Carter came here, looking for a special medication. One he'd been told was curing his bipolar magically, but when your father and I told him there was no such thing here, he got furious. Angry, and you were just coming back from school, and there was no time to reach you.''
'''We thought you'd be safe, son.'' Jonathan picked up. ''But while our backs were turned, you got into the house, and he grabbed you. Threatened us with your life. If we didn't get him those pills... he had to be shot, in order for him to let you go.''
''Five years ago? That means I'd be-''
''You'd be thirteen years old, Clark.''
''Why don't I remember? Why don't I remember this happening?'' Clark asked.
''You were probably trying to keep yourself safe and allowed yourself to forget after a few years. I mean, with everything you've been through, I'm surprised, we'd have to relive that day.'' Martha sighed. ''But what happened wasn't your fault, all right? You had no power over that man, or the situation. His death isn't on your hands, I want you to know that, before you blame yourself.''
''Your mother's right, Clark. Jack was extremely sick, he'd been like that for years, guess it only worsened, the longer he was away from the hospital, to further his treatment.'' Jonathan sighed.
''Is there anything else I should know?'' Clark hissed.
''No, but as funny as your little prank outside is, we should refrain from leaving the property till he's found. The first place he'll come is most likely here at the farm, so we should stay with someone for the time being.''
'''Yes.'' Martha agreed. ''Do you think Lex would be willing, Clark?'' she asked.
''I'm sure he would, if I explain everything to him, it shouldn't be a problem.'' As Clark got up fast from the chair, he sped right to the phone, dialing Lex's number as he held the phone to his ear.
''Son? Maybe it'll be a good idea to wait to explain everything to him, when we get there, instead of now. Just to be safe?'' Jonathan suggested.
''Right, yeah.'' Clark agreed, once he heard the dial tone cancel out, and a female voice on the other end. He said his name, and how he knew Lex, and immediately he was put out straight to Lex's office number. And as he was relived to hear his voice, he was eager to get the words out. Once he did, he waited for Lex to respond.
''Sure, Clark? Come right over, I'll have rooms prepared as we speck.'' Lex said, and as Clark quickly said goodbye, he put the phone back down and turned.
''He said its fine, he'll have rooms prepared for us, when we get there.'' he told them. As the three of them spent a few minutes rounding everything they needed into separate bags, Clark was at least a little happy he'd get to drive the pink truck. As he got into the front seat, his Dad next to him, as his Mom sat in the back, he backed out of the driveway, and out through the front gates. They were out of there, in less than twenty minutes.
But as they drove, Clark had an unpleasant feeling. If the meteor rock had affected him, and that's how he could survive that bullet, he and his parents were in grave danger.
As the Kents all made it safely to The Luthor Mansion, Clark was the first one to exit the truck, once it was parked a little of a distance away. As Clark followed his parents through the doors and into the mansion, they were all created by Lex's helpers and security guards. Lex was sure to fill them all in about their stay, and Lex was the last to welcome them, as Clark stepped himself into Lex's office. Lex rose from his office chair as he saw Clark come through the doors. As he approached him, he shook Jonathan's hand, then Martha's as he turned to Clark.
''I'm sure you were going to will me in?'' he said patiently.
''So sorry about the sudden visit, Lex?'' Martha interrupted before Clark could speak. ''I hope it was okay, that we stay here for a little while.''
''Of course its not a problem? Just may I ask how come? Is it problems with finical for the farm, I'd be more than happy to help, if you need?'' Lex offered.
''No, its not like that, Lex?'' Jonathan added on. ''I don't know if you've read the paper this morning, or not, but a person from our past, as resurfaced, and we fear we're all in danger.''
''A person from your past? Does this person have a name? I'll look it up in the computer database?''
''Jack Carter, local gunmen, proclaimed to be suffering with bipolar? Apparently he came to the farm, seeking a special mediation that was curing him? Apparently things didn't go well, and he had to be shot, but somehow was seen leaving town this morning. The newspaper is warning everyone.'' Clark responded.
''Sounds like you got a zombie problem, Clark.'' Lex replied, as he started typing away on the computer, searching for anything he could for the name.
''Guess you could say something like that?'' Clark replied. ''Do you mind if I-'' Lex looked up from the computer for a moment, as he noticed Clark pointing to the couch, he nodded slowly, as Clark took a seat.
''Your always welcome here, Clark, as are your parents. So please make yourself comfortable.'' Lex offered.
''Thank you, Lex.'' Martha whispered. As she took a seat on the rather comfortable couch, Jonathan joined her, as he sat comfortably with one leg up the other down on the floor.
''So, how dangerous are we talking here? About this sick guy?'' Lex asked, drawing a blank as he rose from his chair.
''Apparently he threatened my life, I was thirteen years old when this happened, and the only way he'd let me go, is if they shot him.'' Clark said.
''And you don't have any memory of this?'' Clark shook his head.
''Not a thing. I was honestly very surprised to see my parents react to the headline in the paper. I don't even know what he looks like.'' Clark said honestly. ''Lucky for us, I don't think he'll know to come here.''
''He'll probably make his way back to the farm. That's the one place he'll think he can get the medication.'' Jonathan sighed. ''We'll just have to make sure we stay away from there, for the time being...hope you didn't like your bed too much, Clark. Guess most likely you're going to be sharing.''
''But I love my bed.'' Clark whispered, rolling his eyes as he breathed deeply. ''But sharings okay, I don't mind.''
''The floors good too, Clark? Just saying.'' Martha interrupted, passing Clark a rather evil smile.
''Nonsense, no one needs to share a bed. I have it all prepared, already. Mr and Mrs. Kent, I have you two sleeping in the same room, since I thought you prefer it like that, and Clark has his own. Unless he wishes something better?'' Lex asked.
''Not at all, that all sounds wonderful!'' Martha said, her smiling hiding, as she snuggled herself up next to Jonathan, who moved his arm, so she could lie on him. The two had no problems expressing their romance.
''If the man was seen leaving town this morning, isn't there a chance he won't come looking anymore? He might've skipped town to get away? Get away from his crimes here and start fresh? Maybe we're safer than we think?'' Clark thought.
''Maybe, but its better we don't act on thoughts, Clark.'' Jonathan replied.
''Right, right, your right.'' Clark replied.
As the sunlight outside finally vanished from the windows, and moonlight replaced the sun in the sky, the clouds rolled in, casting shadows against the bright windows, as everyone turned in to sleep. Martha and Jonathan had their own rooms, and had turned in early, as for Clark, who couldn't stop himself from thinking about the possibilities. He kept trying to replay the story the way he thought it had gone, but each and every time, he had the order right. He still had no face for the man, Jack Carter. A stranger to him. Or a stranger to his thirteen-year-old self. Surely, if he'd seen him today, in his older age, Clark would have no trouble remembering his face.
He offended, found it fairly easy to keep images of dangerous people in the back of his mind, especially found it easier when they'd tried to hurt him, or someone close to him. So, if only he could've remembered a face. Through all the commotion of the day, Clark had been so blind, and distracted, he didn't even try to reach Chloe or Lana. If Jack Carter really had it out for his family, it wasn't too hard of a step to target one of them. And during everything, he hadn't gone to check. As he gave it some more thought, and a tiny amount of convincing, he concluded with his super-speed he'd be in and out quickly. In a flash, more say. So as he got up from his bed, still fully dressed in his original clothes, he slipped his bedroom door open as wide as it would go, and found himself outside.
On the way down, his shoes lace had gotten stuck, so he was stuck having to go with one good shoe, and one that was in particular condition. He had no desire to cause his parents or Lex any worry by him leaving, but it was only for a second. He'd go check on them and be back in time for the sun to come up the next morning. As the sound of his shoes crunching down on pieces of grass and leafs, he jogged slowly into the empty road, as he took off in a flash of red, and wind, blowing behind him. He had no thought about using the truck, cause again, he knew he'd be much quicker had he gone on foot, or wind? So as he made it down the road, and out to the north a little, the first house he made sure he checked, was Chloe's.
He didn't find it necessary to knock on the door, since it was generally late, so as he stepped into the driveway, he twisted his head a little, so he could be able to hear anything coming from inside the house. Once he heard the soft typing of a keyboard, and some retro music band, his eyes softened as he took off down the road, this time turning directions as he made it to Lanas. Which at the time, the thought hadn't occurred to him, he'd be disobeying his father's words, when he'd been told to stay away from the farm.
And Lana and her aunt were their next store neighbor.
As Clark made it his duty to check on Lana, the last person he needed too, he felt a bit of accomplishment, he'd only been out for two minutes, and he was already almost done. He'd be able to return to the mansion with no one ever knowing he was gone. As he followed the road down and past his home, he didn't allow himself even a second to go and check out the place. He had to see Lana first. Once he finally made it to her house, the dark shades of the trees blocking his visible shape in case he was seen, he walked up along the front lawn, his hands in his jean pockets, as he glared up on one of the bedroom windows. He wasn't sure which one belonged to her, but that information wasn't necessary. The only thing he needed to see was that she was safe inside. And from the information he gathered, by seeing both windows closed, and the lights all shut off, he got his answer.
Unannounced to him, that someone was staring directly at him, watching him from behind. He drew a breath, before taking off down the road again, leaving behind nothing but dust and large blowing winds. Once he could see the farm again, he suddenly felt himself weaken. He wasn't sure why, but looking around, there had to be a piece of meteor rock somewhere. As he took a few seconds to look, he finally found it. A large one, just laying in the ditch a few feet from him. Careful to walk a little ways past the ditch where the rock sat, he was now even closer to the gates of the farm. He could even read out the ''Kent's Farm.'' Sign nailed to the top. He smiled, as he was about to move on, but found that it stopped him, when a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head, comforted by a sickening feeling of the meteor rock in his lower stomach, he collapsed to the payment. Where a slight amount of blood rolled down the side of his head, and a bump formed from where he was hit.
Trying to get his vision to clear again, as tried to crawl along the road, anything he could do, to give him some feet. If he could just get away from the meteor rock, he'd be okay. Out of danger. But the more he tried to move, it was like, the closer the meteor rock became. It was like someone was purposely bringing it closer towards him. The situation reminded him a little of the necklace Lana used to wear, the one that held the minor piece of meteor rock.
''How've you grown.'' he heard a rather sickly old man's voice, as he fought to turn his head. As he was struck down against the payment road, he gasped for air, as blood followed the newly opened wound, that just opened up on the side of his cheek.
''Clark?! Hey!?'' he heard the yelling voice of a girl, as she shouted his name. As he was too weak to turn himself over, he just laid there, in the middle of the road, passed out from lack of energy, as the blood from his cheek wound, left a tiny puddle, along his face.
...
''Who're you?!'' Lana found the black, ugly eyes of an older-looking man. His skin was white and pale, with almost a greenish shine to it. His clothing matched that of a basic father, which was a white tank top and brown shorts, to reveal his legs. Around his neck was a familiar white chained necklace, with a larger piece of meteor rock than the one she owned, and as Lana was left standing a few feet away across from him, she brought her attention past him. Her eyes finding Clark's unconscious body as she screamed his name.
''Clark?!''
''What'd'you do to him?!' she shouted.
''Lower your voice, missy.'' the man replied. ''No need to yell, there will be plenty of that in due time. Just be quiet.'' Lana backed up a little, her body shivering from the cold, and from the large amount of fear, waving through her body, but as the pain grew worse, as she kept finding her eyes placed on Clark's bleeding, injured body, she fought back her tears.
''What're you doing with him?'' she asked, shakily
''Nothing, I want him, his parents have something I need...so, if you'd be so kind as to call the police and have them alert his parents that'd be so helpful, very helpful.'' the man smiled, as he turned away, approaching Clark, as Lana took one look behind her, past her shoulder, as she returned to her home, where she called the police. And in under less than two hours, there was a whole swat of officers.
Lana made it into the sight of the scene as fast as she could. She had to push through all the officers, and then a few more officers, but finally she made it through. There were a ton of police cars all around the property, and they stored most of them out behind the gates to make sure the man didn't leave, and cop cars always were blocking the middle next to the barn. As Lana got herself inside, she was frantic. Scared for what would happen next, she'd made the call to the police like the man ordered, but he also took Clark...She had a deep dark fear something bad would happen. The image of the man's face and eyes, that was burned into her memory, kept coming back the closer she got to the Kent House. Before they allowed her to get any closer, she felt a tug on her arm that made her turn around as if on cue. Her eyes wandered from both the two people standing in front of her. It was Mr. and Mrs. Kent, Clark's parents.
Jonathan had a rather angry expression on his face, but his eyes were anywhere far from angry. They were soft, and cloudy, almost as if he was super scared, but was trying to look tough as to support Martha, who was leaning into him, with her face all red as she sobbed into her hands, covering her mouth.
''Have the police talked to you, yet?'' Martha asked. Lana wasn't sure what to start with first. What would they think of her, if she told them she was there, when Clark was taken? That she had listened to the kidnapper and went to call the police instead of trying to fight him off. Maybe then Clark wouldn't be in this mess? Maybe he'd be okay? The few images she had to remember the scene, was only images of Clark, laying there, bleeding. The blood was the only thing she kept focusing on. He was badly hurt, and who knows what else? As she felt herself beginning to tremble, she felt Jonathan's hand lightly on her shoulder.
''Lana? Are you okay?'' he asked. She swallowed as she took a deep breath.
''No, no, I'm not! I was there, I was there, when the guy took Clark. He talked to me, told me to call the cops, but I should've stayed with Clark, I could've helped him! I'm sorry!'' she cried. Jonathan took Lana into his arms, supporting her, and hugging her as tightly as he could. And as Lana slowly clammed down, and Jonathan thought she had enough, he let go. Standing back as Lana wiped the tears away from under her eyes.
''As the police told you anything?'' Martha whispered. Lana shook her head, slowly, as she kept her hands pressed against her mouth, in order to keep her voice from cracking and for the painful heartbroken tone that would come out, if she didn't.
''They just asked me some questions, but I don't see how any of that helps, Clark?'' She replied. ''The man has him in your house, he's held up in there. Thinking he can use your own house for protection.''
''Clark's in there? With Jack?'' Jonathan repeated, to make sure he got the entire story. Lana nodded as she looked between officers, who walked back and forth across the grounds.
''Yeah, he's using Clark to negotiate.''
''Negotiate about what?'' Martha hissed, angrily, and heartbroken at the same time.
''He mentioned something about a medication, said if he took Clark, that'd he be able to get to you.''
''He really thinks we have that medication, Jonathan.'' Martha whispered. ''But we don't! Can't he understand that?! And now he has my son in there, probably badly hurt, probably frightened...I just want this to be over.'' she cried. Jonathan turned to Martha's side, making her look up at him, as he held her wrists gentally.
''Everything will be fine. Clark will be fine, he's a strong boy, remember? We taught him that we did, not anyone else, we did, Martha. He'll get through this. Just stay here and wait with Lana, I'll take care of everything.'' Jonathan nodded before he turned away. Lana instantly did what she was asked too and took Martha aside. Passing some officers, as the two hung in the back, behind them, and the police cars. It was better for them back there, Lana was sure of it. She also believed in Jonathan to put his needs on protecting them...
Now that two of them were saved, Jonathan knew what he needed to do. As he approached two of the closet officers, he got their attention away from a large police radio, and without taking no for an answer, he grabbed onto the small radio leading up to the bigger one, and was about to speak into it, until he was stopped by the female sheriff. She stopped him before he could, and with her hands on her hips, and a rather nasty glare, she asked him.
''What're you doing?''
''I'm trying to protect my family.'' Jonathan replied. ''My son's in there.'' he breathed. ''He needs me to help him.''
''No, Mr. Kent? What your son needs you to do is to remain out here, present and quiet. We're the police, let us handle it.'' the sheriff replied.
''I won't do that, Sheriff, I will not listen to what you have to say, but I'm going into that house, and I'm getting Clark back.'' he hissed. ''Besides, doesn't seem like either of your officers are doing anything, besides standing around, trying to look official.''
''Mr Kent? Please, don't do this, just listen to my words, you're going to get everyone you love, killed. There's a man in that house that can't be reasoned with. I've read up on this case, so many times, and I am well aware of all the trouble it took to calm the man down the first time?! It ended with a bullet to the skull?! Do you honestly want to go down the same route?'' she asked, annoyed, but as serious as she could. Jonathan left out a well frustrated grunt, as he slammed his foot down on the payment in full force. He hated that she was right, but he hated being powerless more.
''Please, just get me in there?!'' he barked.
''We can't get you in there, till we talk to him, first-'' Before she could finish her sentence, the door to the house slammed open, and who came out, was the man. The same man from earlier, the same black eyes, and ragged clothing...He had a nasty expression on his face,...it was a smile. A nasty disgusting smile, Jonathan had to fight himself not to jump the guy, not to punch him so many times he wouldn't talk anymore, so badly, he was alright with the man dying. Jonathan couldn't believe what he was thinking, but as he thought about it more, it wasn't that he was being too rational . His reaction was appropriate, and he wasn't going to apologize for the way he felt.
His son, was for the second time, stuck in the hands of the same madman, probably frightened, and wondering what will happen next, Martha had been right, when she said, it was good, for Clark not to have any memory of the first in counter, with Jack Carter. But now, the second time, time wasn't going to be as nice to Clark as it was on the first.
''Mr. Carter?! Where's the boy?!'' the sheriff shouted, as she aimed her gun straight at him. Jack looked over his shoulder for a second, then started laughing. It wasn't just any laugh either, it was the laugh belonging to a madman. Not just the laugh of a man who was seriously ill. It was as if the guy liked what he was doing. Causing pain to the Kents. The sheriff wasn't sure what to do next. She was completely at a loss.
Jonathan noticed the fresh change in behavior from the sheriff and took it upon himself to get answers. As he stepped away from protecting officers, and the large fence that was created from all the cop cars, he got himself past all the yellow crime tape, and stepped a few feet closer to the house. The green steps were prickly in his reach, all he had to do was climb up them, and he'd be standing on his own porch.
''Answer the question! Where's my son?!'' Jonathan barked.
''I've got him, don't worry, he's safe...'' Jack chuckled.
''You need not hold him, we'll give you anything you want, you don't need to play the game like this? Just release my son.'' Jonathon's voice turned sour as he took one step forward. Jack completely unfazed by the amounts of steps, and the closer he suddenly was now, but he still didn't even flinch.
''Jack Carter, release Clark Kent, and give yourself up! This will not end well for you...you do know that, don't you?!'' the sheriff finally shouted, as she got back into the action.
''This is all going to end fine for me, its all of you, that'll end in tragic.'' Jack chuckled. ''It's only a matter of time.'' As Jonathan got himself ready to make his move, he was able to make it up two extra steps, one more, and he'd have one foot set down on the porch.
''I know you think by holding my son against me, that you'll be guaranteed that medication? But I'm here to tell you, you won't be granted anything, except a place behind bars! So, make this easier for you, and take me in his place. You'll get more out of this, if you have a suitable hostage, vs a teenage boy.'' Jonathan whispered, his hands behind his back, as Jack stared down at him, once he was on his knees.
''Here we are again? Just like it was five years ago? How much a person can change with the right incentive.'' Jack sighed. ''But I don't want you, as a hostage, the only reason your son is with me, in that house, is because I need something from you, and your wife. I know its here, just like I knew it here five years ago. But alas you still want to keep playing games? Well, fine. I can play tthe game all day...'' As Jack turned around, slowly, heading back into the house, as Jonathan found Martha's eyes from across the driveway. As Jonathan took this has his chance to get up on the porch, he took it. Lifting his leg up to the step, and joining, with his second, he stood, with the stairs right behind him. He knew he has to be careful, those stairs could prove to be a safety problem for him, if things didn't go smoothly. As he headed towards the front door, his hands at his sides, as if he was holding themselves in the air, he felt his heart start to race, as the sound of the old wood, cracked, and cracked under his weight.
''Mr. Kent! Please, refrain from getting any closer! Your only giving him more leverage!'' Jonathan heard the sheriff shout. As he turned to look directly at her, he nodded, and smiled. That was exactly what he wanted. In his back pocket of his jacket, he squeezed tightly with something rather small curled up inside his fist.
He knew what it was, but no one else did. He'd hope Martha could see what he was doing, from where she was standing, but he understood if she couldn't, he peppered it this way anyways, he didn't like to see her in distress, so it was better if held his own. As Jonathan finally fond the courage to set foot right through the front door, he wasn't aware of it closing right behind him. He jumped a little, as he slowly regained his courage. He scanned his surroundings, everything seemed fairly normal. Nothing had been moved, nor was there any furniture or picture frames moved, or knocked over. In fact, on the kitchen table in front of him, their dishes from the morning before, was still sitting there. He could've even sworn he could make out a few pieces of leftover bacon, even though his and Clark's plates were still in the sink, laying over one another, as Jonathan took a sigh...
''Mr. Carter?! Are you here?!'' he shouted. 'Come out!''
As the sound of more than one persons footsteps filled his ears, he turned to the side, in the direction of the stair case, and backed himself a little bit up, when he saw the rather tall, discolored man. He had a ugly face, and an even ugly plan up on his sleeve. With a widened smile, and even dirt in his teeth to cover the cows grass den for months, Jack kept his smile, as he dragged Clark down the stairs. The boys head, just inches pressed against Jack's face. It caused Jonathan's blood to boil as his eyes laid upon Jack and Clark. He grunted, and clenched his top teeth against his bottom, almost thinking to himself, what'd happen if he'd go full force? Would his teeth shatter? No, they wouldn't. Was what he concluded. because he wouldn't give them any time to do so, if it were up to him, Clark would already be out of this mess.
Clark's face looked frightened, and he wad incredibly pale. His eyes were soft, with a mix of drowsiness. He looked like he'd either bee drugged, or forced medication. His eyes every so offend shut then re-opened, as he found Jonathan's eyes.
''Watch yourself, Kent.'' Jack told him, pressing what seemed to be a knife deeper against Clar's throat. Clark felt the stinging pain that came from the knife, and slowly reacting, by gasping. Try as best he could, to bare it. Jack on the other end, seemed to be enjoying every moment of Jonathan and Clark's pain.
''What else did you do to him?!'' Jonathan shouted. ''You drugged him, frightened him, probably tortured him, with your mind games?! What else are you planning to be a seventeen year old boy, through today?!'' he barked. ''Cause whatever you had in mind you can forget it! Your not hurting him anymore, now that I'm here.''
''Yeah? And what do you think your going to do? As far as I'm concerned, your son, is your lifeline. And without your lifeline you have nothing. You see right about now, if your son wasn't here, you would've already done whatever you want to do, to me? But instead, your stuck there, standing, and watching my ever move, while I have your son at my mercy...he really is a good son. You and your wife raised him well, Jonathan.'' Jack said, as he slid his hand up and down the top of Clark's head. Stroking his hair, then wiping the sweat away from his forehead. Clark tried to struggle against his touches, but found himself to weak to do so. Jack wore a necklace around his neck. that contained a large piece of kryptonite, and because of it, Clark found himself rather weak and useless. However weak he was, his senses still worked. He could hear everything around him, see everything, but his movements were limited, and how much longer he'd remain consciousness, was something he'd hope he wouldn't have to worry about for another two hours, he couldn't allow himself to be sent back to the darkness, not while he could stare at his fathers kind face, hoping and praying he'd be save soon.
''Clark? How're you doing through all this?'' Jonathan whispered, his concerned eyes, never leaving the sight of his son. inches in front of him. Clark moved his head to one side, than to the other, dropping his head down to the side, as he stared at his father sideways. The energy in the top half of his body, was clearly depleaded, he recognized, in a few minuets, he'd lose the small bit he had in his bottom half.
''Losing energy...'' Clark whispered. ''Meteor...rock...necklace...'' he said, his words cutting out, as his eyes shut peacefully. The knife pressed against his throat, wasn't as deep as it was before now, and Jack moved the both of them, from the way of the door, to the direction of the kitchen, since Clark wasn't capable to walk. Jonathan had to watch as his legs dragged loosely on the floor behind his body. The sight of his son like that, brought back memories of the time, the hurricanes hit, and the horrible pain and fear he got, when that reporter, tired to take Clark. After having stuffed a large piece of meteor rock inside his jacket pocket. Jonathan had made sure not to let that happen, but right now, the situation was much more intense...
As Jonathan thought of more sunnarrows to try, and problem solvers, he hadn't even noticed, Jack was now sitting in one of the chairs in the kitchen, across from him, Jack had lined up a second chair, where he pressed Clark against, while Jack stayed behind the chair, still making sure he had a grip on the knife, as it stabbed against Clark's throat, for the second time, this time, Clark could feel the warmth of his own blood, as it rolled down his skin, and down into his shirt. Jonathan gripped his hands into fists angrily, as he watched the blood escape.
''Let...him...go...I beg of you, please.'' Jonathan mumbled softly. He didn't think anyone else could hear him, except himself, but once he saw Jack's midnight eyes staring straight at him, his anger thrived, and he was forced to join the two at the table. He sat across from Jack and Clark. his eyes soft, and still lingering to the blood rolling down Clark's pale skin.
''I don't suppose your necklace is made from meteor rock?'' Jonathan asked, a she pointed towards the small sliver chain, lined with a giant piece of rock, in the middle. Jack nodded lightly.
''This necklace, and that tiny piece of rock, was what saved me, that day, five years ago. Did you know meteor rock, can grant a human special abilities? I didn't, not at first. I seemed to have drawn the connection, when I suddenly woke up, under ground, where I guess, I'd been shot through the head, I knew it had something to do with what happened here, those years ago. So, I'm back. I thought about leaving town, to try and start a new life. But I knew, if there was special medication, here that could cure my bipolar, then I couldn't leave it behind. Not when wishing for a new start, was so close in my grasp. Why run away to a different town, when I could just start a new start, and life here? Once I take those pills, I'll be cured, and I'll be reborn...'' Jack's voice grew soft as he thought, grately about what he could have. His life could start soon, he just need to fix a few things first. And as much as he knew the old him, the person he was before the bipolar took him, would never think about harming a kid before, but this was the only way.
''Why do you think me and my family have those pills? You thought we had them five years ago too, where did you get that idea?'' Jonathan asked, his tired and angry tone, sending off some steam as he waited for the hatred inside, him to lower. But the more he watched Clark, the angry he got. Clark's breathing was slow, and raspy, and sweat was forming all over his face. Under his cold, tired, eyes, and along his brow, his hair was messy, and parts of his buttons along his shirt, was missing. Jonathan couldn't help himself but to think what else, Jack could've done to his son.
Along the side of his forehead, Clark has a rather large gash that had dried blood surrounding it. And as Jonathan moved his head to the other side of Clark, he could see many bruises along the side of his head, which told him he suffered many collisions. As he clenched down on his teeth again, the first thought he had was a concussion. Was it possible for Clark to have a concussion? Well, yes. Since Clark was around a meteor rock, any wounds he had would not heal. So Jonathan knew he had only a short amount of time to get Clark out of there.
As he rose from his spot slowly, he got closer towards Jack, and as he did, Jack slouched in his chair, and with a freaked out expression far from his calm, relaxed one, from earlier, he rose slowly, putting down the knife, as Clark was free. Jonathan felt a strange sensation coming over him, as light shone from his palms, working his way up to his body, as the entire house went up in an enormous ball of light.
And for the second time in his entire life Jonathan was able to remember what it felt like, what it felt like to have temporary powers. The first time he'd been able to experience what it was like for Clark, when he got his powers, even though Jonathan's powers were temporary, only given to him in order to bring Clark back home, when he ran off to metropolis. And as seconds passed, and Jack had now been dealt with, mainly from being taken down when he'd been beaten up, Jonathan sat on the floor, with Clark in his arms. He tried to cast his shadow over his son, in order to protect him. And as he did this, the police were told to stand down, and were sent in to deal with Jack, by taking him out of the house to return him to jail, where he should've gone right from the start.
But now he was going to be forced with entirely life, stuck forever behind bars, as mortality in prison, no longer seemed like a picnic for anyone. But as Jack was taken away, something about him was different. He didn't have the same cocky expression from before, he now had a terrified expression on his face. And as he was taken out of the house, he was shouting for them to keep Jonathan away from him? Which mean't something unusual had happened? Something, that once Jonathan thought more about, seemed even odd to him.
As Clark got comfortable in his fathers arms, his expression as well as Jonathan's matched. He to was wondering for an explanation, as to why Jonathan had been given powers again. It wasn't as though Jor-El had given them to him now? Right? Of all the other times the powers could've come in handy? This wasn't even close to all those other dangerous times.