Chapter 32:
Martha could hear laughter traveling up the stair case as she exited her bedroom. She in inwardly smiled at Clark's decision to have Pete and Chloe spend the night. Originally when the two friends visited they were only going to stay a couple hours then head back to their own houses, yet after Pete and Clark's awkward, tear-jerking reunion and Chloe's late arrival, they soon discovered that they had much to talk about. The mother felt her heart soar when Clark asked after dinner if the two of them could spend the night. Martha and Jonathan quickly agreed, and gave the two friends some old pajamas to sleep in. Truth be told, Jonathan wasn't too keen on the idea of Chloe spending the night, but after some coaxing from his wife he quickly relented.
Not wanting to interrupt the laughter and their bout of inside jokes, Martha tiptoed down the stairs towards the kitchen. Unexpectedly, the moment her foot hit the hard floor of the last step. Clark instantly spun around, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Oh, don't mind me," the mother quickly stated. She inwardly cringed at startling her still recovering son. "I'm just getting a glass of water." Clark merely nodded and turned his attention back to his friends. Walking towards the cupboards, the mother's curious eyes never left her son. Ever since his return, Martha could swear sometimes he could hear her coming from miles away. Shaking the thought out of her head, she grabbed the glass and returned to her room.
"Chloe, I can't believe you did that!" Clark exclaimed, throwing his head back in laughter.
Laughing right along with his best friend, Pete continued, "Man, Clark, you should have seen Principal Reynolds's face when Chloe walked into school in a slut-ified school uniform."
Chloe merely rolled her eyes at the boys' robust laughter. "You guys should be thanking me. I'm the reason why we don't have to wear uniforms when school starts next week."
Clark gazed over at Chloe. "Pete's right though, I wish could have seen that plaid skirt on you," he said as a smile crept up on his face.
"Shut up!" Chloe yelled as she playfully punched him in the arm, which was rewarded with more laughter from the boys.
Hours later, when Pete finally crashed from all the excitement, Chloe and Clark sat on either end of the couch with cards piled up on the middle cushion. "Two fives," Clark stated as he laid two cards face down on top the pile.
"Bull…shit," Chloe dramatically stated as she turned over the cards to reveal a two and a seven.
Clark sighed as he added the small pile of cards to his already overflowing hand. "I'm starting to think you may be the one with X-ray vision."
"Don't insult me. It's all reporter's intuition."
Quirking his eye brow, Clark glanced at the back of Chloe's hand. "Yeah that, and the fact that you already have three fives."
Dropping her jaw, Chloe placed her hand in front of her cards. "No fair! You can't X-ray my hand!" she exclaimed.
"It was reporter's intuition," Clark lied as he ducked the pillow being thrown at his head.
"Yeah, uh-huh. Some reporter you are," Chloe smirked. "Now give me back my pillow, you pillow thief." She quickly grabbed the pillow from Clark's hand and leaned back against it. She gave Clark a second to organize his dozens of cards. She loved the way his brow furrowed as he fumbled with the cards, almost dropping a couple. Noticing his unscathed face, she tilted her head to the side and commented, "It's gone…"
Clark instantly looked up from his hand. "What?"
"The scar on your left cheekbone…it's gone," she stated as she pointed to her own cheek.
Immediately Clark's hand few to his face. "Oh…" he whispered as he felt the smooth skin beneath his fingertips.
Not liking the glazed look appearing in her friend's eyes, Chloe immediately brought her focus back to her cards. "One six," she stated a bit too cheerfully.
Snapping his attention back to the game in front of him, Clark proclaimed, "Three sevens."
oOo
Enjoying the cool summer breeze, Clark sat on his porch as he looked out onto the dark landscape. Chloe finally fell asleep while they were watching a movie after their rousing game of 'bullshit'. Clark had no idea what time it even way, but he didn't care. He was content watching the stars above him as the crickets hummed their last night tune. Noticing an orange glow illuminate the sky, Clark faced east, surprised to see the sun already rising. He sat, stone still, watching as the sun slowly rose over the flat Kansas plains. The boy reveled in its majestic beauty as it illuminated the farm in a vast golden hue.
It was times like these his missed the most during his year held captive. Little wonders that he ignored everyday, knowing that the next day it would still be there. He took for granted the smallest things and he needed to make sure it never happened again. He knew know that while it may always be there, he may not be. Subconsciously, he raised his hand to his left cheek, feeling his smooth skin where the ugly scar once was.
Clark didn't know how long he was trapped there. It didn't matter though. All he knew it was way too long, and his hope for someone to find him was slowly dwindling away. He knew if he was ever going to make it out of there alive, or with whatever humanity he may have left, he would have to do it himself.
He rubbed his sore midsection, noticing how the cuts were taking longer to heal. Yet, no matter how much they may hurt, the physical wounds were not the ones he was worried about. He was a thing there. It had been engrained into his mind since the moment he arrived. And yesterday he had overheard some plans of 're-teaching', and he was not planning on staying long enough to find out what that entailed. He started planning his escape since he was thrown into the small cell, but finally knew he would have to act on it, no matter how desperate and (unplanned) it seemed.
Clark slowly rose from his cot, careful not to pull any of the stitches, even though he knew they would be ripped out the next day. He placed an ear against the large metal door, thanking his newfound ability that they had yet to discover. Hearing no one, except the soft snore of one guard, he took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. His makeshift door jam made out of the cloth from his blanket actually worked. For once God seemed to be on his side.
Knowing the small, cursed meteors littered the room outside of it, Clark attempted to push through the pain focusing on one step at a time. The familiar burning feeling rushed over his muscles as he leaned on the desk for support. It took every last piece of strength he had not to scream. Gritting his teeth, Clark collapsed to the floor when he was mere inches away from the door. He continued to crawl against the hard, tile floor, willing his arms to drag him. He would make it back home or he would die trying. He finally reached the other side of the door. Still feeling the effects of the meteor rocks in the hallway, he continued to crawl down the hall, blinking the black spots out of his eyes.
Finally reaching a safe distance away from the room, Clark attempted to stand using the wall for support. Taking slow, deep breaths, he prepared himself for the run of his life. He knew he was no where near being as fast as he used to from the continuous abuse and lack of sun exposure, yet nothing would stop him from trying. Pushing off the wall, he ran down the corridors, trying to remember the nearest exit.
Clark rounded a corner, spotting a large glass door at the end that guaranteed his escape. Beginning to taste the freedom held behind it, he pushed himself harder. Out of nowhere, a mind numbing pain entered his body and sent him to his knees. His eyes locked on his destination, he reached for the doors, knowing they were just out of his grasp. He fell to the ground, defeated.
"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" a cold voice asked as it stepped out of the shadows. Clark felt four strong hands wrap around his arms and lift him to his knees. A middle-aged man towered above him, holding a piece of kryptonite hanging from a string. "There are silent alarms all over this place. Did you really think we would be so reckless?" Clark continued to glare up at the man, his hate pouring from his veins.
As if Clark's pain pleasured him, the man only smiled as he bent over dangling the piece of kryptonite in front of the boy's face. Chuckling as Clark tired to squirm away, he informed, "This right here is refined kryptonite. The rock in its purist. Isn't it pretty?" he asked as his blue eyes glowed with a fervor. Not waiting for a response, he raised the rock high above his head and slammed it into Clark's unexpected face. The two guards held him in place as his head was thrown to the side, blood running down his left cheek from a clear cut gash. "Ouch," the man mocked as he tied the rock around Clark's neck. He looked down in admiration as he stroked his graying goatee. "Take him back to his room. Show him what happens when he doesn't listen to orders," the man told the two burly guards.
"Yes, Doctor."
The moment the guards threw him into his cell, Clark knew that it was over. There was no more fighting, because there was nothing to fight for. He only asked for mercy that night and his prayers were left unanswered. When the guards left, its hope was gone and its humanity with it.
Clark quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself what Cassie told him just a week before. "Don't dwell on the past, focus on the future," he whispered to himself as he stood up from his porch, ready for a new day.
To Be Continued…
oOo
Chapter 33:
"Super…Hearing?" Martha repeated, ironically wondering if she heard her son correctly. Clark solemnly nodded, as if he had something to be ashamed of. He had never once looked up from the kitchen table since revealing his new ability to his mother. "How long?" she asked, still not quite sure what one was supposed to say after her son tells her he can hear a spider web spinning from a mile away.
Clark was obviously prepared for the question. "Some time while I was at the lab," he answered stonily.
"Oh…sweetie," Martha whispered, her heart breaking for her son as she reached across and placed her hand on his. She knew it was hard for him to talk about the past year. Once she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time he voluntarily mentioned the laboratory. "Why didn't you tell us about it before?"
"It felt weird…" Clark muttered, his eyes never moving from the table. "I don't know. I thought maybe you wouldn't look at me the same way."
It took every once of will power in Martha to not rush to son and hug him. She remembered what Dr. Harris had said about asking questions, because there may never be a second chance. "Clark, why would you think that?" She titled her head slightly to the side to get a better view of his face. "Look up at me, honey. You know I will always love you no matter what happens."
Transfixed by his mother's gaze, Clark explained, "Well yeah, I know that…now. For a while though it was like I was just waiting for you and Dad to realize how different I really was. It seemed to obvious to everyone back at the…laboratory. I didn't know if this was be the last straw. That all of the sudden it would click and you would realize I'm not like you."
Martha brought a shaky hand to her mouth. "Oh Clark, I never realized you felt this way."
"I don't," Clark instantly corrected, reaching over towards his mother. "Well, not any more." He gave a small smile, truly letting his mom know he was alright.
Blinking back her tears, Martha brought her hand down and placed it on top of Clark's. "You know you can tell us anything, right?" she asked with a slight nod. "It's so good to hear you opening up…"
"Don't worry, Mom, I know."
Turning her attention towards the clock, Martha instantly frowned. Jonathan should have been back from the southern pasture almost an hour ago. "Where on earth could your father be?" she wondered out loud.
There was a moment of pure silence before Clark answered. "He should still be a little while. Chelsea is giving birth to her new calf."
Martha turned back towards her son with a look of confusion, then in awe. "Well, this new ability can definitely come in handy."
Clark quickly stood up and went to the linen closet. "I should really go take some blankets to him," he stated as he pulled down a handful of towels. As he walked towards the door, he stopped mid-step and tilted his head slightly to the side. "Wait…there's someone walking up our front porch."
A second later the doorbell rang throughout the house. "Well, now your just trying to show off," Martha teased as she reached for the door. Pulling it open, she looked curiously at the finely dressed middle aged man on the other side. "Hello, may I help you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I believe you can," the man answered, his pale blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight.
oOo
"C'mon, answer…answer," Cassie Harris muttered under her breath as she listened to the infinite ringing in her cell phone. When the ever-familiar voice mail message answered her pleas, Cassie pressed down on the accelerator a bit harder, pushing her car to a near hundred miles per hour. The arrogant beep finally blared through her eardrum for what seemed to be the millionth time. Unlike the past million times she took a risk and left a voicemail message, knowing at this point secrecy was not an option.
"Robert Baum answer your damn phone," she barked, sounding way too much like her mother. "Okay, so since you haven't noticed I've called you a thousand times I guess I might as well just tell you now…somebody broke into my apartment. And not just break in steal the TV and wallet break in, break in and steal just the information I have on…the experiment break in." She paused a moment to take a deep breath. She would do neither of them, and most importantly Clark, no good if she had a nervous breakdown while speeding down the interstate. "They know I'm behind his disappearance. And if they know I'm behind it then probably know you're behind it too. So when you finally get this, give me a call back. You are not an easy person to find." She clipped her phone and threw it onto the passenger seat.
Feeling depleted and lost, she focused on driving. "Oh my God…" she whispered as she recalled the past hour's events. She had finally checked out of the motel three days prior, ready to move on with her life. It had been almost three months since she had rescued Clark, and her mother's inheritance was quickly depleting. The first two days went like clockwork, from moving back in, and calling old patients, informing them she was back from her leave of absence. Yet that day when she entered her apartment after having a quick lunch with a friend, she had found it in shambles.
It took Cassie over an hour to sort through the mess and by the end of it she was
clueless as to what the robbers took. Besides creating a huge mess and breaking a couple pieces of furniture it seemed as though their break in was futile. Yet, the moment she stood up and looked over her newly cleaned living room, it dawned on her the one most valuable thing in her apartment was not there. The file on Clark. The robbers where not there for the electronics or the credit cards, they were there for the one seemingly innocent manila folder, holding secrets that science has, and did, kill for.
As she passed the 'Welcome to Smallville' sign, she reached over and picked up her cell. "They're bound to answer this time…" Cassie muttered her herself as she dialed the Kent's number. Evidently, much like her colleague, Dr. Baum, today the Kent's decided they would be anti-phone and not pick up, no matter how persistent the ringing was. She drummed her fingers on her steering wheel, swearing to God if she heard the bring of an unanswered phone one more time she would join the club and give up phones all together. By the tenth ring, it became obvious that the family still wasn't answering. Glaring at her phone, Cassie discarded it in the back seat and drove onwards towards the farm. Luckily it was called Smallville for a reason, and within five minutes she pulled under the 'Kent Farm' sign. Unfortunately, she failed to notice the black Mercedes next to the barn; it's license plate 'Baum 47' glistening in the sunlight.
To Be Continued…
AN: One last apology for the length between updates. My computer died and had to be shipped out to fixed, but while it was gone I FINISHED the story. So please check back soon becuase the conlusion of November Rain will be posted within the next 3 days.