Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville
Chapter Sixteen
00 Stray 00
The boy, roughly eleven years old, waited anxiously as the elderly pawn shop owner inspected the trinket from behind the security bars separating them. The trinket was a small carving of an angel, intricate, and about twice the size of the pawn shop owner's thumb, and it was made of a metal the color of brass.
"How much will you give me for it?" the boy asked.
The old man flicked off the monocle attached to his glasses for magnification so he could look at the boy, "Fifty bucks."
"It's made out of gold," the boy objected.
"Who told you that?"
"My mother."
The man shook his head, "Tell her its a fake," he said, handing back the trinket.
The boy turned it over in his hand, his expression solemn, "I can't. She's dead."
The man hesistated, taking back the trinket, "I'll give you sixty bucks," the boy nodded and the man reached under his desk to access the safe.
As he turned the knob the boy's brow furrowed in consentration, before it smoothed out in a look of grim satisfication.
After the transaction was done the boy ran out of the pawn shop and into a pickup waiting across the street.
He climbed into the back seat, not acknowledging the couple in the front turning to look at him.
"So what's the deal?" the man asked from his position in the driver's seat.
The boy frowned harshly, pulling out a Warrior Angel comic from his back pack, "I told you, I don't want to do this anymore."
The woman with bottle blond hair and too much makeup smiled sweetly, "Oh, this is our last job."
"Liar," the boy siad, before retreating behind inside the pages of his well worn comic.
The woman grimaced nastily and the man slapped the comic out of the boy's hand, "We're all you got, kid. Tell me the combination."
The boy looked between the two before he answered cautiously, "25-13-29."
The man smiled, "Good boy," he said, and threw the comic at the boy's feet.
The couple watched from the car as the pawn shop owner closed up shop. "Okay, you know the drill, right? Let's do this."
"Get the bag. let's go," the woman answered, and they both pulled on plastic masks and cocked their guns.
"Don't forget my angel," the boy said, settling down in his seat as the two exited the car and crossed the street.
Once the boy was certain they were gone he put his comic back in his backpack and ran after the two, peeking into the shop from the window.
He saw the old man coming to confront the two intruders, "What's going on here? Hey, who are you people?"
The woman screamed as the man leveled his shotgun at the man, "Oh, my God, no! No!"
Bang!
The boy watched in horror as the old man fell to the floor, still hearing the woman's cries of, "Oh, my god, I think he's dead."
"Let's go!" the man ordered and the boy ran.
"No. What did you do that for?"
"It was him or us, baby. We gotta go!"
They left the pawn shop and pulled off their masks in time to see the boy running away, through a fence, and beyond.
"Where's he going? Go," the man ordered, chasing after the boy as he made it closer and closer to the woods.
0000
"So, anything new at school?"
I looked at Mom in confusion, but she didn't turn away from the road, "Not really, same old boring classes, I'm thinking of taking some college courses online next year to spice things up."
Mom hummed thoughtfully, looking slightly disappointed, "What about at the Talon? What was the name of that boy I saw you talking to when I walked in."
I thought back to a truly unremarkable encounter with a sophmore, "I don't remember, I think it started with a J or something," why was she asking me this?
"What were you talking about?"
I don't know why she was so fasinated with this topic, "He wanted to know if he could buy tickets to the spring formal at the Talon."
Mom brightened visibly, "Really? The spring formal, I haven't heard you talk about that yet, who are you planning on going with?"
Huh? "Oh, I was thinking I was going to bow this one out."
"What?" she asked, sounding dismayed, like my refusal to go to school dance was somehow devastating. "What were you planning on doing instead?"
"Oh, I was thinking of working on some computer programs I was sent, that should be intresting."
Mom grumbled, "So you're planning on spending the spring formal locked up in your workshop, alone, while everyone else is having fun?"
"Yeah," I said, still not seeing the issue with that plan.
Mom looked at me, and in the face of my confusion she sighed, "Isn't there anyone you're intrested in? Romantically?"
What? This was not a topic I was ready to discuss.
"M-mom-" I said, my denial not fully planned when I saw a dark shape come out of the woods onto the road, "Mom!"
Before Mom had a chance to react we hit the figure, and as we screeched to a halt I was able to see that it was a kid.
"Oh, my god!" Mom cried, getting out of the car, and I was seconds behind her.
We rushed around to the boy's prone body, "Are you alright?" Mom asked, kneeling down and elevating the boy's head.
I crouched in front of him, checking for broken limbs.
The boy sat up, confused, and Mom asked again, "Are you alright?"
"I lost my shoe."
"I think he's in shock," I suggested, or alternatively very used to getting hit by cars so that it didn't phase him anymore (that was not a good thought, Clara!).
"I'm taking you to the hospital. Come on," Mom said, grabbing on of his arms while I grabbed the other and we put him in the backseat of our four-door.
Once we were settled in and far enough away from the accident that Mom wasn't shaking quite so violently, I attempted humor.
"Well, look at the bright side," I said, looking back at the groggy boy in the backseat.
"What's that?" Mom asked, sounding hysterical.
Okay, maybe she wasn't quite ready for humor, but I couldn't stop now, "We could have been driving the pick-up."
Mom gave out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob.
Oh, well.
0000
Mom called Dad as soon as we got to the hospital, and since Dad was with Clark by the time that the doctor was ready to give a prognosis the whole family was there waiting outside the kid's room (we had since learned his name was Ryan), who was flipping though a Warrior Angel comic book.
"He checks out physically, just scrapes and bruises," said our doctor (a different one than when we were here for the Nicodemus catasrophoe, this one was female and vaugely Indian. Also beautiful, was it a rule that all female doctors under fifty had to be incredibly attractive?).
"Other than knowing his name, Ryan claims to have no memory," she said with no inflection, in a way that told me something was off.
Did she think he was faking?
"Are you saying he has amnesia?" asked Mom.
"True amnesia is extremely rare. It's likely post-tramatic shock. His memory will probably return within 24 to 48 hours."
Ryan looked up and past me and I turned to see that Clark was waving at him, I turned around and gave him my best reassuring smile, its effectiveness to be determined.
"What if it doesn't?" asked Clark.
The doctor looked uncomfortable (she had a name but she had given it while I was in the restroom, and I didn't want to have to ask), "Martha, Jonathan," she said, pulling them away and (presumedly) out of our hearing.
Yeah, right.
"It's unlikely all Ryan's cuts and bruises were caused by the accident," abuse, I thought grimly, and I frowned at the bruises, some yellow and brown with age.
"You think he's been abused?" Mom asked.
"He may not want to remember," she said, looking back at Ryan, and I turned my head in time to aviod being caught staring.
"What will happen to him?"
"We've called Child Services, but they're understaffed and can't come out until tommorow at the earliest. So the only place for Ryan to stay is at the juvenile cell at the sheriff's station," I noticed that Ryan was looking side-eyed out the window at the conversing adults, like he could hear what they were saying.
"That's no place for a child," Mom objected.
"Why can't he come home with us?" suggested Clark, and I wasn't adverse to the idea.
"That's a great idea."
"Can we do that?" asked Dad.
"I'll have to make some calls, but I don't see why not. I'd be a big help to us, and I'm sure Ryan would appriciate it."
There was only one probelm now, "Do you think he'd fit on the couch?"
0000
As it turned out, he could, me and Clark didn't have to alter our (admittedly wierd) sleeping arrnagements to take him in.
The couch really was the best place for him, and any guest (besides maybe to barn) because our home, while wonderful, had only two bedrooms. This wasn't so much an issue when clark and I were five and loved the bunk beds (except when Clark broke them), but as we grew older the only solution besides one of us moving out of the house and into our private spaces (for Clark the loft in the barn, and for me the couch in my workshop) was to set up two beds with a blanket as a divider between us. It was cramped, and if we were anything less then extremely used to each other it could cause some serious problems, but it worked.
Admittedly, it worked better before Clark's growth spurt and discovery of hormones, but we were managing.
Anyway, after staying up late the night before researching amnesia I stumbled out of bed and smelled pancakes, and one tossed shoe and Clark was up as well.
"Wha-?"
"There are pancakes," I hissed, becasuse I can smell them and we haven't had pancakes in weeks.
Clark realized the momentiousness of this in a way only possible when your half asleep and possess the mentality of an eight year old on a saturday morning and pulls on a shirt.
With Clark at my heels I stumbled down the stairs in time to hear some of the conversation going on below, "Scrambled eggs...bacon..coffee with milk and a little bit of honey," I heard Ryan say.
"Well, that is some trick there, kiddo," complemented Dad.
I got to the bottom of the stairs and looked at the impressive spread layed out on the dining room table, there were pancakes, and syrup, and honey, and powdered sugar, and just about everything needed to make a complete meal, even if the pancakes looked a little well done.
"Hey, Mom," Clark said, and I mumbled something along the same lines.
"Hi."
"Going all out for the new kid, huh?" Clark asked, sounding much more awake than I was as I slumped down into my chair.
"Actually, Clark, Ryan took care of all this himself," said Dad.
"Child labor is illegal in the US," I mumbled into my hands. Speaking of labor I was running low on supplies for my workshop, I really needed to make a run to the scrapyard.
"You're making me look bad," aid Clark conspiratorially.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Ryan asked Clark. Clark yawned into his hand, and Ryan looked at him in confusion. "Don't you want anything, Clark?"
"I'm just going to have some pancakes," said Clark helping himself.
Ryan shook off his confusion and turned to me, "What do you want, Clara?"
I looked at him, making a mental list of all the things I needed form the scrapyard, what would be there and what probably wouldn't be, and the things I could get ordered to the house for little diffuculty, and saw that he was massaging his temple, like he got a headache. "If you spread some peanut butter on one of those pancakes I'll go get the chocolate chips," I said smiling (I needed a laser cutter but I doubted I'd be able to find all the materials, or make up the difference in metalshop, I would have to place an order).
As I got the chcoclate chips, I couldn't miss the looks of confusion that Ryan kept shooting both me and Clark, that was a little odd, normally it took a little more before we garnered those types of looks.
I hadn't even said anything that bad yet.
"Ryan, you okay?" Mom asked.
Ryan nodded, shaking off the look and placing the pancake on my plate.
"Ryan, are you sure you don't remember anything about last night?" Dad asked. "you see, because I still can't figure out why you were out on Route 90 at 10:00 at night."
"I said I don't remember."
I sat down with the pakage of chocolate chips, uncomfortable with how the whole table's attention was now on Ryan, and the tension that filled the room.
"I'm not hiding anything," said Ryan getting up and walking out.
"No one said you were, buddy."
No, but they were 'not saying' it very loudly. I poured some chocolate chips on my peanut buttered pancake and rolled it up for easy eating.
"Clark, can you give Ryan the rest of this bag," I said, holding up what was left of the chocolate chips, knowing it was a good way to make sure that Clark would chase him down, not that I had any doubt he would.
"Great, just what every growing boy needs," said Mom sarcastically, effectivly lightening the mood.
0000
Clara had made a trip to the scrapyard, so Clark decided to track down Ryan. He found him camped out on the tractor reading his Warrior Angel comic.
"Guess your parents want me to leave now," Ryan said, looking at him.
"Why would you think that?" Clark asking passing the basketball he brought betwen his hands.
"Because they don't believe me," Ryan said sulkily.
Clark looked down at the ball, unable to contradict that statement, "We just want to help you get home."
"What if I don't have a home?" Ryan asked, looking at Clark. "What if you found out I did bad things? What would happen to me then?"
"Ryan everything's going to work out. I know it," Clark assured but Ryan turned back to his comic, unconvinced.
"You like comics?" Clark asked, desperate for a lighter topic.
"I like this one," Ryan said, holding up the comic so Clark could see the cover.
"Warrior Angel. Why him?"
"Because he protects people who can't protect themselves," Ryan said thoughtfully, before turning to Clark, his expression serene, "I like being around you, Clark. It's... peaceful," Clark smiled at the complement. "Not like your sister."
Clark gave a small laugh, "Well, I can't argue with you there," Clark said, turning the ball around in his hands. "Why don't you get your head out of that comic and play a little ball?"
Clark walked arond him, drippling the ball and smiling when he heard the sound of Ryan following him.
This was going to be a blast.
0000
I pulled the truck to a stop in the driveway, mentally re-checking all the things on my list that I wasn't able to find. I would have to order that palladium myself, but how to explain the purpose? Oh, well, I can think about that later, for now I just need to get the stuff I got out of the truck.
So, find Clark.
I walked toard the house to find Mom and Dad on the front porch looking nostalgically at the barn, when I looked I noticed Clark and Ryan playing a one-on-one game of basketball at one of our many hoops (you'd be suprised by how many basketball hoops you could find at a scrap yard).
I walked up behind my parents, they didn't appear to notice me from their spot on the porch.
"He seems to really like Ryan," said Mom from her place in Dad's arms.
"I don't think it's the only one," Dad said happily. "You've always had a soft spot for strays."
"Well the last two turned out alright."
"Thanks Mom," I said, announcing my precence, "But we really can't keep him." At her look of disappointment I tried to reason with her, "Even looking past him having to hide the Kent family secret, which wouldn't be fair to him, we don't have the room. If push came to shove Clark could sleep in the loft and I could take up permenent residence in my workshop, but..." I didn't want to say that it would be fair to us, because that just sounded selfish and petty, but I couldn't find a bettter way to phrase it. "Anyway, we have enough money problems as it is," I finished weakly.
Now both Mom and Dad looked upset, and I was starting to feel guilty; bringing up money problems was a low blow.
"There's no reason to worry, I'm sure Ryan will love his new foster family once he settled, but for now the least we can do is show him some T-L-C," I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring way, but I doubt I suceeded.
"Oh, nice!" I heard Clark call out and saw that Ryan had just scored.
We settled down to watch the game, in (an uncomfortable) silence.
Why did I keep screwing everything up?
0000
Lionel Luther stormed into his son's office with purpose, the doors banging agasint the wall.
For his credit, Lex didn't so much as blink, "I thought you were in Monaco."
"Ahh," Lionel said, walking over to stand next to Lex's chair, "'The backbone of suprise is fusing speed with secrecy," Lionel picked up a paper from in front of Lex.
Lex toke the paper away from him, "Von Clausevitz, On War. Isn't that a little '80s, Dad, even for you?" Lex asked, getting up.
"I never give my plant managers a heads up before a spot inspection."
"What would you possibly have to complain about now?" Lex asked, herranged, "The plants doing well, LutherCorp stock is up..."
Lionel chuckled from behind Lex's computer, "I'm not here to complain, Lex. On the contrary, your performance lately has been..." Lionel paused, looking at Lex, "more than adequate."
Lex smiled reflexivly, "That sounds dangerously like a compliment."
Lionel stood up, "I push you, Lex, I don't deny it. Greatness is a refined air one has to be taught to breate. You know Philip of Macedonia raised his son among lions to instill fearlessness in him."
"Didn't he also try to impale the kid with a spear?" Lex asked, grabbing a folder and walking to the opposite side o the desk as his father.
"In an aborted coup attempt, but history remembers that boy as Alexander the Great."
Lex sat down in his chair, "You didn't come all this way to lecture me on Greek history again."
"No," Lionel said solemly, "I want you to come back to Metropolis where you will hold the position 'special adviser to the chairman emeritas', that would be me," Lionel said self-importantly.
"At least the title sounds important."
"It's more than a title. It's an opportunity. It's what you've been waiting for ever since you came to Smallville."
"I'll think about it," Lex said, betraying no emotion.
Lionel chuckled, "You want to keep me dangling," he said, dangling his glove in front of Lex's face, "so it looks like you're granting me a favor, instead of recieving one. We don't have to play games, son."
Lex smiled sardonically, "Dad, games are all we got."
0000
We took Ryan to see Chloe at the Torch, she was the one with the most connections, and I knew she'd be facinated by the mystery.
Besides, I liked to have hacking as a last resort.
"Wow, you're like a modern day Kasper Houzer," excalimed Chloe after she heard the story.
I placed the reference and mentally grimced, that was not to best analogy she could have chosen.
"Who's that?" asked Ryan.
"Don't worry. Chloe's the queen of obscure and irrelevant references," assured Clark.
Obscure, maybe, but not necessarily irrelevant, I thought. I pulled out my sketchpad and started working on a design for a project that had been on my mental to do list for months.
"He's a kid from the 19th century with amnesia." Chloe explained, "He showed up in a German town one day without a memory of who he was, all he could remember was his name. How's that for irrelevant?" Chloe asked Clark.
I hummed absentmindely, sketching a wheel, "While not irrelevant Chloe, perhaps it's not the best parallel to draw in this situation."
Chloe and Ryan looked at me in confusion, the former not having made to connection yet.
"What happened to him?" Ryan asked.
"Well, his story spread throughout Europe, and people from all over came to see if he was their missing child. Some people thought he was the lost son of the Grand Duke."
"Did he ever find his parents?" Ryan asked excitedly.
"You know...," Chloe began, only to pause as she remembered the end of that story, there was an awkward silence that went unnoticed by no one before she recovered. "Yeah! He did," she finished with forced enthusiasm, "Um, he found his parents, and they lived happily ever after."
Ryan looked at her angrily, "Why didn't you just say he was murdered?"
"How'd you know that?" Chloe asked.
"Chloe he knows because he's perceptive and you're about as opauge as a window. Ryan, perhaps she lied because we had already compared you to Kasper, and you seemed happy at the story. She didn't want to ruin it for you," I lectured, not looking up from my notepad.
There was an awkward silence before Clark stepped in, "You know, why don't we take that picture?"
"What picture?" Ryan asked suspiciously, "You're not putting me on that freak wall are you?"
"It's called the Wall of Weird, and no. This picture is just to check against missing persons," Chloe said, holding up her digital camera and snapping some pictures. "Okay, I'm gonna go download this, I'll be there in a sec."
I didn't look up as Chloe passed me on the way to her computer, but I did when I heard Ryan's whispered comment to Clark.
"She likes you."
"Yeah, we're friends."
Ryan rolled his eyes, "She wants to be more that friends. I think she wants you to ask her to the prom."
What? How did he even know about the prom?
"Chloe?" Clark asked skeptically, looking over at her, "Yeah, right."
"No really, she already picked out a dress. It's pink."
Okay, there was no logical basis for that claim, she hadn't told him, and as far as I know she hadn't gone dress shopping yet. What was up with this kid?
"Ryan, you just met Chloe, and she hates dresses, and she's not exactly the prom type."
"Well maybe she has a romantic side you never knew about."
"Or maybe my Mom hit you harder than I thought," said Clark, ruffling Ryan's hair.
Chloe walked over, done downloading the picture, "Let's get a picture of my boys," she said holding up the camera.
I watch Ryan suspiciously, despite the fact that he shouldn't know, there was no way he could've, I still felt he was telling the truth.
0000
After we were done with Chloe, Clark dropped by the Talon so that I could get some account work done, and since Lana was also on duty, he chose to stick around.
Honestly, he was so predictable.
I was going over the books at a table sitting next to Ryan but I was still able to overhear Lana and Clark's situation.
"So how does it feel having a little-brother-figure in your life?" Lana asked.
I noticed nobody was asking me that question, was it because I already had Clark or my refusal to look up from my work?
Probably a little of both.
"It's pretty cool. It's different from how it is with Clara."
"Yeah, Clara's her own unique experience," what was that supposed to mean? "I always dreamed of having a brother or sister, you know, someone to talk to, help fill the silence."
"Someone you could totally trust and would always be there for you," Clark continued.
'Am I not that for you, Clark?' I thought snidely.
Lana smiled, "That's just how I see you, Clark."
Oh, burn. I smiled, enjoying the downright stunned look on Clark's face, before he covered it up with a blank smile.
"Thanks."
I heard footsteps approching and I looked up to see the very person I had been trying not to think of for days, the person I had been purposefully distracting myself from thinking of.
Lex.
Oh.
Oh, god.
I'm not ready for this.
The second I saw him my body was filled with endorphins, creating a warm, happy feeling in my chest.
Because I had a crush on Lex.
It was stupid, and hormonal, and...
most of all it was wrong.
I had allowed myself to forget, forget what I was, forget my past, and thought that I wasn't pretending.
Pretending to be Clara Kent.
Pretending to be human.
I was a cukoo bird that had convinced itself it was a sparrow. My body was a crude organic computer that had convinced itself it was human.
Just because this body of mine could mimic the reactions of humans didn't mean I was one.
I needed to remember that,
I needed to remember that no matter how well I could play the part, believing it would only be self-delusion.
So my body might have developed a crush on Lex, but that didn't mean that I had to let it control me. Lex was my friend, or the closests thing an A.I. could get to one, and I wasn't going to ruin that because my body was a traitor.
I inhaled.
0.053 seconds had passed.
I felt a pit in my stomach, hard and cold and lined with broken glass.
I smiled, making it as geniue as I could, "Hi Lex!"
Lex nodded at me, going over to my table and standing next to Ryan, "Hello Clara."
"Have you met Ryan?"
"No, I haven't, but word gets around," Lex turned to Ryan, noticing his comic book, "Warrior Angel. I'm a fan myself. In case Clara hasn't mentioned I'm-"
"Lex Luthor," Ryan finished for him, reopening his comic, "Clark told me all about you."
"They really seem to have bonded," I said cheerfully, uncertain how to diffuse the 'F***-off' vibes that Ryan was broadcasting.
Lex and I shared a glance before he tried again, "You know, I have one of the -"
"FIrst-edition, panels, framed in your house."
Lex looked at me and I shot him a look that was suitibly confused, I didn't know how he knew that, I didn't even know that.
"How'd you know that?"
"You're rich," Ryan said bluntly, "That's what rich people do, collect stuff."
"I see you've met Ryan," CLark said, apparently done with his conversation with Lana.
Lex laughed, "Apparently we're both big Warrior Angel fans."
"I didn't know you liked comic books," said Clark.
Considering how much he liked Buffy, I'm not suprised.
"A strange visitor from another planet who protects the weak?" Lex asked as if that was explanation enough, it probably was. It also sounded like a description that could be applied to Clark, no wonder they got along. "When I was young he was my idol, not to mention he's bald. I have the whole collection."
"Maybe I can bring Ryan by later and we can check it out," Clark suggested. "Would you like that buddy?"
"Whatever."
"Wow, I can just feel the enthusiasm leeking out of you," I said dryly. Ryan apparently didn't like Lex, and if I was reading this right it was for no other reason then that he was rich. "If we do bring Ryan over, I promise he will remember his manners," I said pointedly. "And I'd probably want to go check them out anyway, it sounds like a good story."
The waitress handed Lex his usual coffee and he stepped away, nodding at my silent question, "Bye."
Clark waited until Lex was gone before commenting, "That was kind of rude. Lex is my friend."
"Both of our friends," I corrected and didn't miss Ryan's annoyed wince. I didn't think he liked me very much.
"Don't worry about him. He's going to leave. Lex's father offered him a new job."
"You don't know Lex and his father, he would never do that," Clark said, amused. "You gotta stop making up stories about people."
I frowned at Ryan, still confused about where he was pulling the information about these 'stories', becasue they all seeemed at least plausible, if not true.
I grabbed the finished book work along with my notepad and got up without saying goodbye, making my way out the door in the direction Lex had left.
I managed to chase him down as he was getting into his silver porche.
"Lex!" I jogged over to him but when he turned to face me I lost my nerve to ask him about the job Ryan mentioned. Instead I ruthlessly shoved the warm happy feeling that came at seeing him down and changed my track to another issue.
"Hey, Clara," Lex said semi-warily.
"So I wanted to talk to you," I began.
Lex waited for me to continue but I couldn't find the words so we just stood there in awkward silence until Lex brke it, "About what?"
I swallowed audibly, "I just wanted to say about that thing I showed you? While I was under the effect of the Nicodemus?"
"I remember," he said dryly amused.
"Well, I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn't you know, mention it to anyone..."
"Clara, I already told you I wouldn't. What is this really about?"
I grimaced, "You might have noticed that I haven't really been around since and it almost might seem like I'm -"
"Avoiding me?"
I chuckled, "Yeah. I have been avoiding you. It's not personal, actually it is, but its not against you, it's my issue and-"
"Clara, what's wrong?"
I took a steadying breath, "It's just, I like to keep certain sections of my life seperate, and this wasn't something I was willing to share yet. Or at all. I have some trust issues, and I wasn't really ready to open up."
"The Nicodemus did that for you."
I smiled wryly, "It was supposed to unleash hidden desires, and I suppose mine was to open up. But sometimes things are hidden because you aren't ready to deal with them yet. Anyway, in summary, I was avoiding you, it wasn't your fault, and I'm going to stop."
"Glad to hear it," Lex said smiling.
"On a slightly related note, even if Ryan says no can I come check out that Warrior Angel collection?"
"Of course."
"You know I didn't have you pegged as a comic guy, although in hindsight I probably should have considering how much you like Buffy. After all you're willing to have day long marathons with me."
"There's not that bad. Actually one of the most intresting thing about them is your commentary."
"Yeah, Clark stopped having marathons with me when we were eight because of that commentary," I said, enjoying the easy comradie.
"I like your commentary, watching you scream at the characters is one of the best parts," Lex teased.
"Well, anyway, I'm glad we got that all settled-" I was interrupted by someone bumping into my back and the carefully arranged papers falling out of my grip and then scattering all over the pavement.
"Shit," I muttered, scrambling to pick up the Talon's account records. Lex handed me a bundle and I turned to see he was on his hands and knees next to me, paying no mind to the expensive material of his slacks (I didn't need to worry I was in my brother's hand-medown- jeans and red flannel).
Once everything was off the ground we stood up and I tried to arrange the papers in my hand to something resembling their former order.
"What's this?" I looked up to see Lex holding my notebook, the page open to my most recent sketch.
I blushed horribly, too frazzled to stop it, "That's nothing!"
"Really? It looks like a motorcycle," Lex said wryly.
I grimaced, "It isn't. I mean it is, but its no where near finished, I just started it, it's horrible really," I babbled, pulling the notebook out of Lex's hands.
"Why a motorcycle?"
I bit my lip, but I could see Lex wasn't going to let this one go. "Well I have my drivers licence but I don't really get to use it. Mom has her four-door but she needs that so I can't borrow it. There's the truck, but that's reserved for farm work so it's really Clark's truck becasue he's the one that uses it the most. I normally tag along with him but he gets tunnel vision, especially when Lana's involved or someone's in danger, which in this town is always. And when Clark gets distracted he can forget about me, and I've got pretty tired of walking home or having to bum rides. We don't have the money for another car, so I'd figure I'd make one. I decided on a motorcycle becasue it's more manuverable, and smaller and compact so I could fit it in the back of the truck when I need to ride with Clark," I clamped my lips shut before I could embarass myself even further.
Lex looked slightly stunned at my outburst, but his expression soon turned to thoughtful, "How long do you think it'll take you?"
I shrugged, "Probably a couple of years, I don't exactly have the best equiptment. I'll have to put a lot of my other jobs on hold, but as long as I don't have to walk to college it'll be worth it."
Lex stayed silent for a pause, mulling something over before apparently reaching a verdict. "You're welcome to come over anytime," Lex said reasurringly.
I smiled gratefully, "I'll take you up on that."
0000
Ryan sat at his chair in the Talon, rereading the comic he practically had memorized by now, he had just reached the part where Warrior Angel broke through the rock and saved the helpless victim trapped inside, saying "You're safe now" as he was surronded by a halo of light that poured into the confined space made by the cave in.
Ryan loved this part but was stopped in his enjoyment of it when he 'heard' a familiar voice from across the room. He turned around to see his step-father standing at the entrence of the Talon, wasting no time Ryan bolted, leaving the comic on the table as he made his way to the back exit, passing Lana in his haste.
Ryan exited the building into the side street, which he ran down in search of a place to hide.
Lana looked at the door Ryan had run out of in confusion and turned to track down Clark, not noticing the man that passed her and followed after Ryan.
The man looked down the street and noticed an industrial sized green garbage box next to two blue rycleing containers roughly the size of a small boy.
Clark looked over at the table where he left Ryan and saw only his comic book, lying open.
"Ryan?"
Lana jogged over to him, "Ryan just took off out of the back. He looked scared, Clark."
Clark frowned and went to follow Ryan.
The man made his way down the street, paying no mind to the garbage truck coming up behind him.
Ryan shuddered in fear in his hiding place.
What if he was found?
The man reached the blue containers and flipped them open triumphantly, only to stop short when they were empty of eleven year old boys, only holding old paper.
Clark ran out of the Talon, shouting, "Ryan?"
The man froze, abandoning his search in favor of escaping before he was seen, he could handle his preteen stepson but not this.
Ryan peeked out from his hiding space in the green garbage container, not yet noticing the garbage truck sliding it's poles into the slots on the side of his little safe having.
The truck jostled the container, causing Ryan to fall back inside, and Ryan realized with horror what was happening. The truck lifted up the container, causing it's contents (including Ryan) to get rolled around. Ryan was not able to regain his bearings before the container tipped and it's contents were dropped into the belly of the truck.
Ryan managed to sit up before he noticed a function he didn't know exsisted on garbage trucks, but would surely never forget, it's compression device. The metal wall opposite him started to move toward him, shoving orange garbage bags at him as he tried to regain his footing so he could escape.
He wasn't able to.
Ryan braced himself against the opposite wall and screamed, "Help!"
Clark looked around the street and heard the sound coming from the garbage truck, he looked with his x-ray vision and saw the struggling skeleton of Ryan bracing his feet against the compressor in a vain effort to save himself.
Clark rushed foward and yanked the pressure hose for the compression device out, stopping the mechanism.
Ryan stared in confusion as his shrinking coffin stopped shrinking, jolting at the sound of tearing metal and light pouring through the space.
He saw Clark standing in front of the hole, his silhouette bathed in light.
"You're safe now."
Warrior Angel.
0000
I didn't know whether to laugh or despair when I heard of Clark's mutilation of the garbage truck, instead I chose to help Clark with the chores, hoping he interpreted my silence while repairing tools as an attitude that would be benificial.
Lately I was having trouble making the right desions in any of my relationships, so awkward silence might be the lesser of two evils.
We were in the barn and I was trying to unscrew a particularily stubborn screw (normally I'd ask Clark for help but that would go against my awkward silence verdict) when Lex walked in.
"Where's the young sidekick?"
I looked up and smothered that annoying sappy feeling. "Hey, Lex."
"He's sleeping."
Lex smiled, gesturing with his cup of coffee, "He thinks your his big brother."
"Yeah, well, I guess I am, till tomorrow..."
"I don't think he likes me all that much," I mused, "What is it about kids that makes them hate me?"
"He doesn't hate you," Clark objected, "He just..."
"Doesn't like me," I finished and Clark couldn't argue. Ryan had been distant at breakfast and by dinner had progressed to actively ignoring. "But you two are getting along well. Are you hoping to trade me in?" I asked, careful to keep my tone light and teasing instead of bitter and resentful. "You have to admit, the idea of a younger brother is growing on you," Clark didn't comment, mainly because I didn't give him time to do so, "What about you, Lex? As the only only child in this room how do you weigh in? Ever wanted a sibling?"
Lex had been watching our banter with a critical eye, and I mentally cursed myself for bringing this up around someone so perceptive.
I was insecure, and I was insecure about my insecurities.
Sue me.
"I had one, Clara," Lex answered and I was momentarily thrown.
"Really? I didn't know," said Clark, and I was stuck on the past tense of that statement.
Lex smiled to aliviate the tension the topic brought, "When I was eleven, my mother got pregnant again. It was a total suprise. I've never seen my father happier. The day Julien was born was the only time I felt like I was part of a real family."
Clark wiped the grease of his hands with a red rag, "And what happened?"
"The morning of his baptism, my mother went to his nursery, found him in his crib, he had stopped breathing. My mother was never the same after that, and my father got even more distant. I think he saw Julian as his second chance. A chance for him to have a son he could truely love."
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, both at the death of his brother and the disfunction of his family.
"It's in the past, Clara. We would have ended up hating each other, anyway. My father would have seen to that."
"Two things," I said, drawing their attention, "Just because its in the past doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. If you say it does then you have to say it to a PTSD patient or a greif support group, I'm not picky. And the other, you couldn't have known you would have hated each other, you'd be suprised at how much easier it is to stand up to people when they're going after your sibling, or anyone else you care about for that matter," I said, finishing my little speech with a fond look at Clark.
"I didn't come over to recount my family's tragic history. My father's offered me a chance to return to Metropolis."
My expression turned blank as my mind sped up. Lex got a job offer to Metropolis? The same offer he'd wanted since coming to Smallville? If so then there was at least a 70% chance he'd accept it, meaning he'd leave. Would he stay in touch? Would he forget about us? And hadn't I heard this before? Ryan had told us, but we hadn't believed him. Ryan was right? How did he even know?
"Congratulations, Lex. Did you tell Ryan about this?" If my mind hadn't been so occupided I wouldn't have ignored the flat emotionless quality of my tone or the looks traded between Lex and Clark.
"I haven't told anyone."
"Oh," I said, my voice still blank, "Well, Lex, if you accept the job I wish you the best of luck and if you even think about forgetting us country hicks I will track you down and play increasingly juvenile pranks on you. If you don't accept the job good on you, I'm happy you'll be staying in Smallville. Clark, I want to run a CT scan on Ryan."
"What?"
I looked him dead in the eye, briming with exicitment, "I think Ryan can read minds and there may be a physiological component."
"Ryan can't read minds, Clara," Clark said becoming increasingly amused.
"He knew about how Kaiser died, he knew about Lex's job offer, even though Lex didn't say it...out loud. He must be able to read minds!"
"Mind reading is a myth," Lex said sensibly.
I groaned, delightfully exsasperated, "This is Smallville! There is a certain suspension of disbelief required to understand how anything goes on in this town!"
Clark made his I-agree-with-Clara-but-I-really-don't-want-to face and I smiled exuberantly.
"Back on topic!" Clark declared, "Lex, this job offer is what you've always wanted, right?" Clark asked with forced interest, determined not to get sucked down into my insanity.
Lex looked between us and I shrugged (I knew I was right, and sooner or later Clark would be force to come to the same concusion, and then I'd get to make my I-told-you-so face, so I didn't mind the change in topic).
"I used to think it was. Now I'm not so sure." I felt a flare of hope that came with the force of a Roman candle, did that mean Lex wasn't going to leave? "I was a different person then. A different person around my father. He wants an answer tomorrow night. We're having dinner in Metropolis."
Clark looked at me thoughtfully, but I gave a mental shrug on what to do and conveyed that with my eyebrows.
"If anyone can choose who they want to be, Lex, it's you."
0000
Lana was stacking some glasses on a tray at the Talon when she heard Mr. Kent's voice.
"Knock, Knock."
"Mr. Kent, this is a suprise," Lana said, smiling at him and the young boy by his side.
"Yeah, Ryan's been doing chores with me all day, so I figured he deserved a break. I'd like a cup of coffee, give him whatever he wants and if you can point me to the phone I can see if Martha wants anything."
"All right, it's in the back."
"All right. Enjoy. And Lana? You wouldn't happen to know where my daughter is?"
Lana grimced, "We've got a backed up toilet so she's in the men's bathroom. But I wouldn't bothe-"
"Why won't you flush?!" shouted Clara's voice from the back and Mr. Kent chuckled, and walked away to the phone.
Lana smiled at Ryan, "So how are you feeling today?"
"Much better, thanks."
"Good," Lana nodded.
Ryan leaned foward across the counter, "Do you think it's okay if friends have secrets?"
"Strange question. Why do you ask?"
"Because I think Clark is hiding something from me."
Lana smiled, "Everybody has secrets Ryan," she said softly.
"Really? What's yours?"
Lana shook her head and smiled at his brazeness, "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret."
Ryan laughed, "I guess you're right."
Skye walked over and took the glasses Lana had cleaned off the counter, "Thanks, Skye, you're a lifesaver," Lana called after her.
"You're welcome."
Ryan looked at the departing teenager and frowned.
"Why the frown?"
"She's not a good person, Lana. You should fire her."
Lana looked at him, scandalized, "Ryan, why would you say something like that?"
"Because it's the truth."
"How do you know?"
"It's a secret."
0000
The couple watch from their truck as Mr. Kent and Ryan arrived home.
"Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mr. Kent," said Ryan, his voice carrying over to the watchers.
"Looks like Ryan found himself a new family," siad Ryan's stepfather, amused, looking down at the newspaper with headline "Luthorcorp Plant Posts Profit" with a picture of Lex Luthor in the middle of the page. "It's time to get back to work."
"When do we get the kid?" asked his wife.
"When we're ready."
0000
Clark walked with Chloe down the strech of Route 90 where his mother had found Ryan. "My Mom hit him somewhere around here. Thanks for helping with the clue hunt."
"And help solve the riddle of Ryan? It's my pleasure."
"If it is a riddle," said Clark, drawing Chloe's intrest. "I'm starting the think he may not have amnesia."
"Clark, the kid adores you, why would he lie?"
"Because he's running from somebody."
Something caught Chloe's eye and she picked it up, it was a blue backpack in the ditch in the side of the road. "I found something."
Clark turned around and watched as Chloe rummanged through the bag.
"We've got comic books and twizzlers," she said pulling them out for display, "Something every growing boy needs."
Clark focused on the backpack and ripped open the bottom, pulling out a picture. At Chloe's look of disbelief he said, "What? It's where I would hide something."
"If you were a CIA operative."
Clark looked at the picture, in it was Ryan in the arms of a pretty blond woman.
Who do you think it is?" asked Chloe.
"I don't know... Mom, aunt?"
"And the mystery deepens. I still can't figure out how he knew that Kasper Hauser was murdered."
Clark smiled, "Clara's convinced he can read minds," he said, missing the look on Chloe's face, "But you weren't exactly wearing a poker face. Ryan does say weird things, but that doesn't mean Clara's right. He even said you wanted me to ask you to prom and that you'd bought a dress."
Chloe stopped on their walk back to the car, adopting a deer-in-the-headlights look that told Clark he'd struck a cord.
"It's not pink, is it?"
Chloe attempted a smile, but poker faces were not her fortay, and at the look of stunned realization on Clark's face she attempted to recover, "Okay, you know, I was just looking at it, it's not like I actually bought it."
Clark groaned, "Clara's right, how else would he know that?"
"You think Ryan can read minds?" asked Chloe, warming up to the idea a lot faster than Clark did.
0000
Ryan watched as Mrs. Kent peeled green apples for the pie she was going to make with his face cradled in his hands.
"Clark and Clara are the best things that ever happened to you," he stated.
Martha looked at him at the non sequitur and smiled, "Yes, they are."
"They make up for not being able to have kids of your own."
"They do."
"Has Clark always been so strong?"
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Kent asked, not looking at Ryan.
Ryan went in for the kill, "The way he tore off the back panel of the garbage truck and saved me."
Mrs. Kent barely paused, "Don't be silly, he couldn't do that."
Ryan stared at her hard, twitching his eyebrows, "If you say so."
Ryan relaxed back in his seat and continued gazing at the working Mrs. Kent, "What's your greatest fear?"
Mrs. Kent turned to him, "That I won't get this pie done by the time you have to leave," Ryan stared at her, unconvinced. "Why don't you go outside and shoot some hoops?"
Ryan took an apple and walked out.
0000
Clark was going to turn over some compost when he noticed the doors to the storm cellar open, concerned he dropped the pitch fork and the bucket and went to investigate. He made his way down the stairs to find an uncovered spaceship. Clark walked into the room until he felt a presence at his back, he turned to see Ryan.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Clark, don't be mad."
"How did you know about this?" Clark demanded.
"I heard about it in your mom's mind." Clara was right, and now she is going to be unsufferable for days. "I wanted to see it for myself," Ryan said, walking over to the ship.
"Can you hear everything people think?"
"Only what's on the surface. What they're thinking in that moment. Except for you, and Clara. I can't read your minds. That's how I knew you two were different. Now I know why," Ryan had yet to look away from the ship.
"I can't believe you'd do this."
Ryan walked over to him, "I'll never tell. you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
Clark shook his head, "It's not that simple."
"Sure it is," Ryan argued stubbornly, "I know your dad's worried that people are going to find out. I can tell him when someone's getting close. I told you about Chloe. I can tell you about Lana," Ryan bargained, "You want to know her secret?"
"No!" Clark said, "No, Ryan, I don't."
"Why not? It's about you."
Clark swallowed before regaining his nerve, "Look, you can't do this."
"You don't understand what it's like to be different. What it's like to hide so people won't think you're a freak."
Oh, kid, if you only knew.
"Everywhere I go, I hear people's thoughts. I can't block it out anymore."
Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo, showing it to Ryan. "Is this your mother?"
Ryan looked at the picture and then at Clark, "She died."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was hoping I could start over with your family. They were so nice. I wanted them to adopt me like they did you. So I'd be safe."
"Who's chasing you?"
"My stepfather and his new wife. They've been using me. My abilities. To steal. I wanted to stop," Ryan said, his eyes begging for forgiveness and filling with tears, "but they threatened me. They hit me. You have to protect me, Clark. You're the only one who can."
Clark moved foward and wrapped Ryan in a hug, hiding his face from view as the confusion on it would be no help to the crying boy.
0000
Knock, Knock, Knock.
"I'll get it," cried Ryan.
Ryan went to answer the door, but when he pulled it open he was horrified to find that it was his stepfather's wife and partner in crime. He tried to close the door in her face but she stopped it with her hand, forcing it open and stepping inside.
"You say anything, and I'll kill them," she said, and she opened her jacket so he could see the firearm holstered on her hip. "You know I will," and he did.
Ryan heard footsteps behind him but he didn't take his eyes off of his stepmother. She smiled congenialy, "Ah, so you must be Ryan."
"Can I help you?" asked Mr. Kent, walking into the foyer.
"Mr. Kent, Child Services. I'm here to pick up Ryan," she said holding up a (forged) badge for Mr. and Mrs. Kent to see.
"You're a little early, aren't you. We weren't expecting you for an hour," said Mr. Kent.
"We can't thank you enough for taking Ryan in," she said, ignoring Mr. Kent.
"It's our pleasure. He's welcome to stay longer," said Mrs. Kent with a fond look at Ryan who was doing his all to hide his distress.
"Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible. I need to put him in foster care. That's the law."
Mrs. Kent nodded understandingly before turning to Ryan, "Well, let's get your stuff," she said, leading Ryan away.
Mr. Kent stepped closer to the (fake) child services offical, making sure Ryan was out of earshot, "We think Ryan might be running away from his stepfather, so we alerted the police."
Her mouth pinched in displeasure before it smoothed into a smile, "Don't worry, we'll keep him safe. Ready to go?" she asked Ryan, now equipped with his backpack.
Mrs. Kent handed Ryan his jacket and made a small noise of objection, "Could he wait and say goodbye to our kids? They'll be home any minute."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, smiling sweetly.
"It's okay, Mrs. Kent," reassued Ryan, "Just tell Clark thanks."
"If you need anything, just call us okay?"
Ryan nodded bleakly, knowing he'd never be able to make that call and resigned to his fate. Mrs. Kent wrapped him in a hug and he stared with wet eyes at his stepmother, who looked cooly back at him.
0000
"So he admitted it?" I asked as I got out of the truck, thankful Clark hadn't forgotten his promise to pick me up after I was done at the Talon.
"Yes, he admitted it," Clark said, sounding harassed, which wasn't fair, I hadn't even started yet. I wasn't able to fully enjoy the moment because when I looked around there was something just off. I grabbed Clark by the sleeve and he let me drag him until we found Dad leaning against the tractor in the barn, staring bleakly at the night sky.
"Dad, what's wrong?" asked Clark.
Dad sighed, not looking at either of us, "Child Services came and took Ryan away about 15 minutes ago."
I frowned, I may not have been overly fond of the kid, but I still wanted to say goodbye.
"What? Why didn't he wait for me? I wanted to say goodbye," groused Clark.
"I don't know, son, they said they were in a hurry. I'm sorry."
"Did they leave any contact information?" I asked, "Or anything about who his new foster parents might be?"
"No," Dad said, shaking his head, and walked back into the house.
I frowned, and resolved to track him down in the morning.
Clark turned to the driveway and I looked to see the headlights of a black limo that could only be carrying one person.
Lex stepped out of the back carrying some type of pole in his hand while his driver stood at attention.
"Hi, Lex," I said, swallowing back questions of whether or not he was taking the job.
"On your way to Metropolis."
"Yeah, for the big dinner," Lex said stepping closer and I saw that the pole in his hand had a hilt, making it some kind of sword. "I, uh, wanted you to have something," Lex said through Clark the sword and reaching in his pocket and pulling out something else. He reached out with his clenched fist facing down and I put my open palm beneath it, when he open his fist I felt something hard, cold, and stiff fall into my hand, upon closer inspection it was a car key.
"A sword?" Clark asked, pulling it from his sheath.
"It's a foil. Every hero should have one."
I looked at the keys in my hand, "Please tell me you didn't buy me a car because I whined about my transportation woes," how embarrassing.
Lex smiled, "I'm giving you my old motorcycle, it's vintage, and I'm sure you'll put it to better use than I ever did."
I smiled, and reached foward, wrapping Lex in a short hug. Prolonged physical contact was not a good idea.
"I guess this means you've decided you're leaving," Clark said and the smiled disappeared from my face.
"I haven't made up my mind one way or the other."
"The going-away presents suggest differently," I muttered, and was heard by all.
"Keep that away from the kid," Lex said, nodding at the foil.
"He's already gone."
"I'm sorry. I know how much you liked him."
"For what it's worth, I hope you stay."
"Ditto," I said, unable to say 'goodbye' as Lex walked back into the limo.
The driver closed the door for Lex and when he turned around I noticed that it was a different guy from normal, it must be someone sent by Lex's father.
I watched with a bitter feeling in my heart as the limo backed out of our driveway.
I really wanted him to stay.
0000
Lex's limo was crusing down a Smallville backroad when it pulled over.
"Driver? hey, what's going on?"
The Driver looked at Lex in the rear-view mirror before lifting the divider. The door open and Ryan was shoved at gunpoint inside by his blond stepmother, now changed out of the sensible outfit she used to impersonate a Child Services offical. The driver (Ryan's stepfather) stepped inside, pinting a very large shotgun at Lex's face, "Mr. Luthor."
Ryan climed as far away as he could get in the cramped space of the limo.
"Ryan?" Lex asked.
"Shut up!" declared Ryan's stepdad, shoving the mouth of the gun into Lex's stomach. "Okay, go. Go!" he cried to his wife who started the limo again.
He turned the gun back to Lex, "Getting the account number to your trust fund was easy, now give me the password."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tell me what it is rich boy."
"My father has it, I don't," instead of asking again, he pointed to his stepson.
Ryan sighed, "He's lying."
He cocked the gun, "Password. Now."
Lex looked between the man pointing a gun at him and Ryan, and Ryan looked at his stepmother in the driver's seat. "You got it?" asked Ryan's stepfather.
Ryan nodded, terrified.
His stepfather smiled.
0000
We were in Clark's loft, I was moping and Clark was waving around his new toy like an idiot when Chloe climbed up the steps.
"Hey, Zorro, what's with the sword?"
"It's a foil," Clark corrected.
"I'm guessing it's a gift from our favorite millionare playboy."
"He's thinking of moving back to Metropolis."
I gazed morosly at the key in my hand, "His father offered him a job at the main company, it's what he always wanted."
"Well, I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere," said Chloe, with a force smile.
I stared at her before getting up, "Good," I said, wrapping her in a hug. I think I startled her because it took her a second to return it, but I didn't care.
I could really use a hug right now.
Once I steped away Chloe recovered, "Sources at the sheriff's office have given me a heads-up on Ryan's stepdad."
"You have sources."
"Yeah, a cute officer in Traffic," she said smiling, "I talked my way out of a speeding ticket, he told me I was plucky. Maybe I'll ask him to prom."
Oh, great, more relationship drama.
"So Ryan's stepdad is a real catch. He's a career criminal."
I took the file folder in Chloe's hands and immediatly showed it to Clark, it was Lex's new driver.
"Chloe, call the police," I said with forced calm.
"Why?"
"This is Lex's limo driver."
I grabbed Clark's arm and ran down the stairs, "We'll try to catch up with him on the road!" I called, climbing on Clark's back as soon as we were out of sight.
0000
The limo doors opened and Lex was shoved out of teh moving vehicle, tumbling across the road.
Inside Ryan's step dad pulled out his laptop, "Give me the password," Ryans swallowed, hesitating. Ryan's stepdad turned to him, "Don't make me ask again."
"It's 'Julian'."
0000
Clark paused in his superspeeding whe we reached a figure on the side of the road, once he stopped I was able to see it was Lex. I climbed off Clark's back so I could get a better look.
"Lex, are you okay?" asked Clark.
"Yeah, I think so," Lex said, favoring his shoulder and grimicing in pain.
"Where'd they go?"
"Straight down Route 90. Clark, they've got Ryan. Get some help."
Clark sped away, but I chose to stay with Lex. "Chloe already called the police. Turns out Ryan's stepfather's mug shot has a remarkable resemblence to your limo driver tonight, isn't that weird?" I asked, the sarcasm dripping off my tounge.
Lex almost smiled, but it quickly turned into a pained gasp, I reached foward, holding him steady, and pulling out my cell phone to call for an ambulance.
"You know, I might be worng, but didn't you get kidnapped before? Like about a month ago?" I asked bitterly, "You need to stop getting yourself in these situations, it's bad for my heart."
Lex scoffed, "This is coming from the girl who got infected with an extinct poisonious flower not two weeks ago?"
"Point," I said, smiling at the banter.
"911. What's your emergency?"
0000
The limosine pulled up in front of Starletts bowling, and everyone exited the car, Ryan unwillingly.
"Torch the limo baby," called Ryan's stepdad, and he reached foward grabbing a firm hold on Ryan's sholder. He dragged Ryan over to a car, and set his shotgun down on the hood so he could take the laptop out of Ryan's arms.
Ryan looked around desperatly, he couldn't run with his stepfather standing next to him, his stepmother was dousing the limo in gasoline not ten feet away, and the temperature had dropped enough that it was beginning to lightly snow, but he couldn't stay here.
Ryan's stepfather typed in 'Julian' on the laptop only for it to be rejected, his mouth formed a snarl and he reched foward and grabbed Ryan by his collar, "Give me the real password! Don't mess with me!"
"I'm not going to tell you!"
Ryan's stepmother set down the red container of gasoline and turned on the boy, pulling out her sidearm, "I swear to god I'll drop him right now!"
"Once he gets the money, he's going to kill you," Ryan shouted at his stepmother, panicked.
There was a tense silence as the woman looked between the boy and her husband.
"Don't listen to him. He's talking trash to pull us apart," said Ryan's stepdad tensely. "We're just about to hit the jackpot, baby. All we've gotta do is trust each other."
"You know, this kid has always freaked me out, but the one thing I'll say about him is he never lied."
Ryan's stepdad shoved him away, truning back to the car where he had left his stuff, "You know what?" he shouted, flipping the laptop closed and placing a hand on his shotgun, turning around, "That's true . . . he didn't."
Bang!
She crumpled to the ground and Ryan ran to the bowling alley.
"Ryan!"
As Ryan reached the door it opened, revealing the janitor carrying an orange trash bag for disposal, and Ryan bumped into him on his rush to get inside.
"Hey, kid, where are you going?"
"Call the police!"
The janitor turned around and Ryan's stepdad cocked his gun.
Bang!
0000
Ryan ran across the alleys before diving into the slot where the pins were supposed to be, making it inside in time to hear his stepfather cry "Ryan!"
Ryan made it to the back of the lanes, peeking through the gaps at his stepfather.
"Can't hide forever!" Ryan stared from behind the assembled pin to whre his stepfather was stroling across the bowling alley.
"You know, your mother really hated you," he taunted. "Couldn't stand having a freak for a son. Come to think of it, I wasn't that crazy about you either."
He grabbed a bowling ball and sent it down the lane Ryan was hiding behind, sending him fleeing. He crawled behind the alleys and his stepfather watch closely, trying to track his progess. When Ryan stopped his stepdad picked up his gun and fired five shots hiting the bowling pins he was hiding behind, the light from the barrel like flares in the poorly lit room.
0000
Clark reached the bowling alley and saw the crumpled forms of Ryan's stepmom and the janitor and wasted no time in speeding inside. Once Clark reached the lane area he regained a more human pace, keeping an eye out for Ryan or his stepdad.
Ryan, meanwhile, was hiding between lanes in front of the belt that carried bowling balls back to players.
Clark used his x-ray vision and saw the huddled form of Ryan and the much larger form holding a larger gun who had just reached him, cocked the gun, and aimed.
Clark picked up a bowling ball and threw, sending it through the wall and into Ryan's stepdad, knocking him into the wall and out of conciousness. Clark sped over to face Ryan.
"Clark!" Ryan called, overjoyed.
"It's okay, buddy," Clark said, helping Ryan out of his hiding space and wrapping him in a hug.
"Your safe now."
0000
The next morning Clark walked Ryan into the Talon to where Lana was arranging a vase and I was watching her (I had been banned from all decorative duties long before the store even opened).
"Hey Lana, Chloe. Ryan would like to say goodbye."
Lana looked at them in confusion, "Where are you going?"
"Edge City," Ryan said proudly, and I smiled.
"Chloe's research turned up an aunt there. She's coming by this afternoon," explained Clark.
"I wanted to thank you for your advice on Skye," said Lana.
"Who's Skye? And what kind of name is that?" I asked utterly clueless.
Lana rolled her eyes fondly, "She was a waitress, and Ryan was right. She was stealing from the till." Lana stepped foward and kissed Ryan on the cheek.
"Hey," said Clark.
"Wow. Thank you," said an awestruck Ryan.
"I think you made his year," commented Clark when Ryan stepped away.
I frowned after him, "You know you might not get so many admirers if you acted more like a bitch," I said to Lana who shot me a scandalized look.
"Clara," Clark scolded.
"What? I'm just saying, your so sweet your giving me diabeites."
Lana laughed, and walked back to the counter.
Clark sat down in the seat next to Ryan and I perched myself on his armchair, "So you recover yet?" Clark asked Ryan.
"I don't know, but I'm definitely in love," Ryan said gazing at Lana.
I hummed, "Lana-love is a common affliction in Smallville, Clark has one of he worst cases. Don't worry, I'm sure the symptoms will ease during your time apart," I teased, secretly serious. I think Lana's pheromones only work through proximity so time apart should lessen their effect.
"Now, Ryan, how would you feel to a CAT scan, maybe an MRI?" I asked sweetly.
0000
Lex walked into his office, his eyes trained on the morning paper, which is why he didn't immediatly notice his father perched on the pool table until he spoke.
"Shouldn't you be packing?"
Lex glanced at his father, unconcerned with his presence, "I'm not going back to Metropolis."
Lionel chuckled, "Come on, Lex, that's all you wanted ever since I assigned you to what you so eloquently refer to as the 'crap factory'."
"I know why you want me back," Lex said, walking past his father. "I'm driving you crazy, aren't I? I'm not clubbing till six a.m., not getting arrested. I'm on track," Lex smiled, "That's what scares you. You want me back where you can keep an eye on me."
Lionel turned to his son, turning around two pool balls in his hands, "Your making a mistake, Lex."
Lex gave a bitter smile before hiding it, "You know what those emperors you're so fond of talking about were really afraid of? That their sons would become sucessful and return to Rome at the head of their own army."
"You think you can find your future in Smallville. I'm your future. Join me, Lex. Join me in Metropolis. How long have you been waiting for me to say those words?"
"I've waited to hear other things from you for a lot longer. I'll return to Metropolis when I'm ready."
"At the head of an army?"
0000
"We're really going to miss you, Ryan," said Mom. We were all gathered around in the driveway waiting for Ryan's aunt to arrive, and Mom was being overprotective. "It gets cold in Edge City, so I packed some of Clark's old jackets, something for you to grow into."
"Thanks, Mrs. Kent," Mom was being (s)mothering and Ryan was loving it, eh, to each his own.
"You welcome around here any time you want," said Dad.
"I know what your worried about, but don't be. I'll keep Clark and Clara's secret. I know what it's like to have to hide who you are from the world."
I frowned in thought, "Thank you, Ryan, but that's not what I'm worried about. I really think you should get your brain scanned," at everyone's looks I elaborated, "You say your abilitiy is getting stronger, and that just might mean your powers are growing, or it could mean something else as well. It's the 'or' I'm worried about. Now, I know you won't listen to me, but if you start to get headaches, vision problems, anything that anything to do with a problem in your brain, go to a hospital and check it out, okay?"
Ryan looked at me in confusion, before nodding reluctantly, and I was appeased.
We heard a car and we turned to see a brown SUV pulling into the driveway.
"There she is," said Mom happily, walking off with Dad to greet her.
"You going to be alright?" asked Clark.
"She's a nice person. She's just as nervous as I am," Ryan said smiling, before turning to Clark, "Are you sure you don't want to know how Lana feels about you?"
"I prefer to find out on my own."
Ryan's expression turned serious, "Be careful of Lex," I immedaitly bristled, "I know he's your friend, but there's a lot of darkness he keeps from the world. I've seen it in his head."
"I like to believe in people's best."
And I'm not naive enough to think that after growing up in Smallville that by the time I reach Lex's age I'll be clean as the driven snow.
Ryan nodded, "I want you to have something," he said, pulling out his comics from his backpack.
"I can't take those."
"I don't need them anymore," Ryan assured him, "I have you."
I reached over and wrapped him in a hug, startling him, "Oh my god, you are just so precious."
Clark took the comics and joined us in our hug, after a moment we stepped away and watched as Ryan walked over and met (and hugged) his aunt while our parents came over and we all waved him off.
"Clara, what do you think Ryan has?" Clark asked once Ryan was out of sight.
Probably a brain tumor I thought, turning to see him still staring after the directing the SUV had gone in.
"It's probably nothing to be worried about."
0000
I left Clark in his loft to brood and made the trek over to the Luthor Mansion (for the last time as I was picking up the bike today), where I found Lex in his study.
"Is that Warrior Angel offer still open? Because I kind of want to know what happens."
Notes:
Can I just say that I had the worst case of writers block on top of the universe working against me. This was the chapter I was working on when I took that forever long hiatus, and it's finally here.
Sorry I'm late, no internet and too many things to do.
Leave a review on the way out.