Note: Here it is…Clark's chapter. Now, I've not gone into a great deal of inner dialogue for him because…well, that's later. Hopefully his actions in this will give a sense of where he is at this point. At least on one issue. I cannot even tell you how much I've enjoyed reading your responses to this story. You guys are AWESOME! Hope you enjoy…and let me know what you think! :)

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Chapter 4

He stopped.

Finally.

Bart Allen came to a screeching halt and issued a sigh of breathless relief into the night sky. He didn't even know what continent they were on. His heart was pounding in his ears. His muscles felt like jello. And his lungs couldn't pull in enough air.

Leaning against the brick wall in the dark alley where he'd made his impromptu stop, he allowed the weariness of this latest run to wash over him. And then, as usual…

He waited.

At Oliver's request and prompted by his own sense of impending doom, Bart had been tracking Clark since his departure after Jimmy's funeral. It hadn't been easy. In fact, it had been the hardest task he'd been given to date.

First, there had been the difficulty of picking up Clark's trail. Then there had been the few, as far as Oliver knew, times Clark had given him the slip. In reality, it occurred once a week. It was usually around Metropolis and usually only lasted a day. The first few times Bart actually tried to locate him. After he picked up Clark's pattern, he would just hang back, watch and…wait.

Beyond that?

Clark Kent was relentless.

Everywhere. They'd been everywhere. There wasn't a point on the globe where Clark hadn't touched down. Paused. Then took off again at a pace so punishing, Bart didn't know how much longer he could hold out. On a few rare occasions Clark made human contact. When needed. Trying to keep his distance, Bart was never privy to Clark's definition of 'needed'.

This was now globe trotting tour number two.

If Bart didn't get some relief soon…

"Had enough yet?"

Bart jumped at the familiar, yet eerily different, voice behind him. He spun around. "Clark! How did you…"

He was hidden in shadows. His voice dark. Deep. Lifeless. "Why are you tailing me?"

"Hey, amigo, we're worried about you." Pushing himself away from the wall, Bart advanced a step. Clark tensed and sank further into the shadows. Bart paused, his explanation coming more rapidly in the absence of movement. "I mean, what did you expect? You just...pull a disappearing act on us. What were we supposed to do?"

"Honor my wish." A pause. A command. "Leave me alone."

Bart flashed a smile and shrugged. "No can do, bro."

"I'm not your bro."

As if to prove his point, Clark took a step from the shadow into the light of the full moon.

Bart tried to cover his gasp of surprise with a nervous chuckle. "Whoa, dude. Pretty intense look you got going on there. Did the 'tude come with the jacket or did you pay extra for that?"

Before him stood Clark Kent.

But not.

Head to toe screamed one word: danger.

His usually well groomed hair hung in a mess of waves around his face, hanging low on his forehead and disappearing against the pitch black collar of his leather jacket. More than a three day stubble outlined his strong jaw and curved over full lips that were pulled into a tight, unbending line. He was pale except for the dark circles under his eyes.

And the eyes? Piercing. Hollow. Cold as steel.

The eyes of a predator.

Or a ghost.

The ghost spoke. "Take a message to Oliver. Tell him I don't want to hurt any of you, but I will...if you continue to intentionally cross my path. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, man, I get it." Holding up his hands in surrender, Bart eased his way back. "But what's the dealio, huh? This whole solitude thing…man, I've been there and it's not the best place to be. Maybe if you just…"

"Do. You. Understand?" Clark took a menacing step forward. The repeated question was pushed through clenched teeth as eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yep." Bart nodded as his mouth clamped shut. His back bumped up against the wall. "Got it."

With one nod of whatever passed for satisfaction now, Clark turned to go.

Bart couldn't help himself. After months of tracking the guy, he finally had him in one place, at one speed. "But you should probably know, we're not the only ones looking for you."

That worked. Surprisingly.

"Who else?" The icy blue eyes flickered with…was that hope Bart saw?

"Chlolicious."

If there had been something, it was gone like a phantom. His lips curled into a near sneer. "Then you might want to tell her the same goes for her."

Bart's brows creased in alarm. "Whoa, dude, don't you think that's going a bit far? She's like, your best friend…"

"Don't tell me what she is." Clark's terse command cut him off. A flash of emotion. Enough to cause his nostrils to flare in...was that disgust? "I know that better than anyone."

Disgust it was.

"Clark, you can't keep running like this."

Ok, so apparently Bart Allen liked living life on the edge. Or he just didn't have the capacity to shut up.

"Running?" Long lashes batted making sharp, pointed slashes against the pale skin. Head cocked to the side, he actually looked momentarily, boyishly confused. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Well, isn't it?" Now Bart was confused. "I mean, we all feel bad about what happened, Clark, but we're dealing you know? Together. Zipping all around the world non-stop like the hounds of hell are on your heels isn't going to bring Jimmy back. We need you, Clark. The world…Chloe…we all need…"

"Just…" A halting hand rose. He didn't need to verbalize his command, but he did anyway. "Just stop right there.

"What?"

"Stop pretending you know what the world needs." Clark fixed him with an icy stare. "Or have a clue what I'm doing."

Bart felt a chill down his spine. "Clark…"

Leathered arms crossed in defiance and authority. Strong, muscled legs spread and tensed as if bracing for a physical confrontation. Black clothes faded into darkness making the usually invulnerable Clark Kent look dangerously larger than life. "Bart, go home. And don't let me see you following me again."

The bob of his head accompanied the bob of his Adam's apple. "Alright. But you know where we are. You know…if you need us."

Bart turned and made it two steps before a soft, hesitant voice called to him.

"Bart?"

Bart turned back to face Clark. He'd once more slipped back into shadows. Only half of his face was illuminated by the moon. One ice blue eye pinned him with a glinting glare. "Yeah?"

"Has there…been any word on…" He paused, his throat working hard, his lips tightening into an even harder line than before.

Taking this as a good sign, Bart advanced with a prompt. "On what?"

"Lois?"

He exhaled her name in a whisper and managed to break the four lettered moniker in two when his voice cracked with emotion.

"Lois Lane? Oliver's ex?"

Bart hit the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of him. A steel grip pinned him to the rough bricks and pushed him into them as a Clark's face, twisted with grief and rage, filled his view.

"Lois Lane, my partner. My best friend. My…" Clark's face crumbled into anguished realization at the wide, terrified eyes staring back at him. Of what he was doing, what he was saying. He promptly let go and stepped back from Bart, his breath coming out in rapid puffs of air.

Bart dropped to the ground like a sack of trash. He didn't even feel the impact. Gasping for air, one fleeting thought occurred to him. Keeping mouth shut, good. Pissing Clark off, bad.

Clark stumbled back then spun around, the growl of frustration emanating from him sounded almost inhuman. Bracing his hands against the opposite wall, Clark leaned in as his head dropped wearily. A few moments of ragged breathing. A few of utter silence. Then…

"I'm…sorry."

Contemplating the man before him…his mentor, his friend…Bart suddenly realized what all this was about.

"Clark…"

"Bart, just…go." Though a command, it sounded more like a plea.

Bart sighed and slumped against the wall. He kept a wary eye on the man turned machine just a few very short, very dangerous feet away. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically gentle and filled with compassion. "Her memorial service was held a few weeks after Jimmy's funeral."

A pause. A hard swallow.

"A few weeks." For the first time, something akin to pain entered his strained voice. No, it was much more than pain. Agony. Despair. Disbelief. "Is that...all?"

"They all searched. For days on end. But, Clark, there's no evidence she's still alive."

That took a few moments to sink in.

Bart could hear Clark's ragged sighs. He could see the jerky rise and fall of his shoulders as he struggled with the information. Struggled with his own truth. After a few painful moments of battle, Clark pushed himself from the wall and turned to Bart, his face set. His eyes bright with unshed tears and alive for the first time.

His own truth had won out.

"There's also no evidence she's dead." His voice was husky with raw emotions.

"Wow." Bart breathed. "That's what you're doing, isn't it? You're…searching for Lois." He struggled to his feet and leaned his weight against the wall that had threatened to become his unintentional grave only a few moments before. "Clark. Man, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was that important to…"

He stopped abruptly when Clark's hands clenched into fists. His lips puckered then tightened. His jaws jerked with tension.

Bart cleared his throat and once again took his life in his hands. "Ollie was the last to give up hope. He took her death really hard. Maybe the two of you should…"

"She isn't dead."

"We all want to believe that, but…"

"I would…feel it." Clark's definitive statement rocked Bart to the core. He'd never seen Clark like this. Never seen him so simultaneously devastated and determined. Never so sure of anything. "She isn't."

"Clark…"

"Go home, Bart. And remember what I said. I don't want to hurt anyone, but…"

"Right." Bart nodded once and flashed a smile, hoping it was enough to make things right between them. "Got that message loud and clear."

Emotionless, Clark moved past him.

Bart reached out to him once more. "Clark, is there anything…I can do to help you?"

Clark stopped dead in his tracks. His back to Bart, he didn't hesitate to answer. "Only one thing."

"What's that?"

"Stay out of my way."

One more question. "Even if we find Lois?"

Clark's head snapped to the side then tilted in contemplation. That action caused a single tear to slip down his cheek. In the shadows, it would have been lost. In the moonlight, it sparkled like a precious jewel.

"That is your one and only exception."

And with that caveat, Clark Kent disappeared into the night…

…in search of Lois Lane.

Tbc...