"You know that I don't want to take on the business!" Clark snapped as he sat in the backseat of the truck. His father drove the truck with Martha sat beside him, their pet dog in her lap. Clark had sat at the back besides Lizzie as they drove into town. Lizzie had spent the previous night at Clark's house, spending all of her time studying with him.
"I also know that you don't want to go to college," his father retorted in a calmer voice.
Elizabeth kept quiet as she looked out the window to the passing traffic. She could practically feel the tension in the car. Martha said nothing, choosing to keep out of her husband's business with her son. She didn't want to get involved.
"How do you know that?" Clark wondered. "I might want to do something else other than go to college. Not all of us can be like Lizzie."
"Do not get me involved," Elizabeth warned Clark as soon as he had dropped her name into the conversation. She glowered at him for another moment, shaking her head back and forth as Clark continued to grumble under his breath.
"We will talk about it later, Clark," his father assured him before silence fell over them.
Elizabeth dared to look at Clark with a swift glance, wondering if his anger had subsided yet. She assumed he wouldn't be mad for long. Clark rarely argued with his parents. All of the time Elizabeth had known him, he had never been one to start an argument. She dared to move her hand out to rest it on top of Clark's.
He looked down at the contact for a moment, not moving from it as he picked her hand up and squeezed it. She forced herself to smile at him as his sweaty palm engulfed hers.
She didn't gain the chance to say anything because the car suddenly stopped, jolting them all forwards. Clark released her hand then, hearing a distinct sound in the distance. Jonathan was the first one to open the car door, followed by Martha.
"What is it?" Elizabeth wondered, watching as Clark climbed out from the car. Lizzie went to do the same, only for the door to remain closed due to the car which had parked right next door to her door. She groaned once, sliding over the seat before feeling Clark's hand around her arm, dragging her from the vehicle.
"Tornado," Jonathan shouted out. "You need to go! Get to the overpass!"
There was a moment of hesitance from all of them, watching as the clouds covered the sky, darkening everything around them. Elizabeth shook her head as she saw the tornado begin to form in the distance, beginning to tear at everything which sat in its path.
"Go!" Jonathan yelled, taking hold of Martha and pushing her in the direction of the overpass.
"Come on," Clark spoke to Lizzie, grabbing her hand into his. He ran down the highway with her in tow, trying to get his way through the cars. Clark eventually jumped over the bonnet of one car, opening the door of it to tell someone else to get out. Lizzie crawled over the bonnet, Clark waiting for her at the other side as he grabbed her in his arms and set her down quickly.
Clark continued to inform people of what to do, waiting for them to get to the overpass first. The wind began to howl, knocking everything out of its way as it advanced towards them. Jonathan continued to yell at people, urging them to move and get to cover. Elizabeth stayed by Clark's side, her hand resting in his whilst he watched the tornado.
"Hank," Lizzie suddenly whispered, remembering the dog in the car. "Clark! Hank is in the car!"
Clark looked back down at Elizabeth, finally understanding what she was talking about. He pushed her in the direction of the overpass, his strength causing her to stumble over her own feet. She regained balance in time to see Clark and Jonathan arguing about who should fetch the dog. She walked backwards to the overpass slowly, her heart in her mouth as she saw Clark move. Jonathan rested his hand on his son's chest, stopping him from moving any closer.
He rushed to the car as Clark stayed where he was outside the overpass. Martha was soon by Elizabeth's side, holding her arm with a tight grip as she watched her son and husband. The barking of Hank was suddenly heard throughout the overpass. The dog rushed forwards and Clark led it back to the overpass. Martha knelt beside him, turning her head to look for her husband.
Clark looked back out to the main road as the winds blew closer with each passing moment. He could make out the outline of his father through the masses of cars. Before he had chance to act, a car came hurtling towards the overpass, flying above it in the strong gusts. Clark instantly wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, holding her to him as she wrapped her fingers around Clark's upper arms which were covered in his blue t-shirt.
That was when they saw Jonathan come into full view, limping as he moved. Clark began to move out of Lizzie's hold, but stopped when his father raised his hand. Elizabeth waited to see what he was going to do for a moment, her eyes firmly set on Jonathan as he remained stood where he was.
"No," he said to Clark. "It's okay, son."
That was when Clark realised what his father was telling him to do. He was protecting him and his secret. Elizabeth's grip on Clark seemed to increase after that, her eyes unable to leave Jonathan as he waited for the tornado to take him.
Clark's grip on Elizabeth was the only thing which kept him grounded. It was the only thing which he could hold onto as a flurry of emotions came over him. He cried out as soon as his father was taken from him. Martha's sobs were also audible as Elizabeth felt Clark's grip slacken. She stood as tall as possible, feeling Clark slowly losing his grip on her. She held him tighter then, keeping him upright with as much might as she could muster. It was only then when Clark's head fell to her shoulder and he sobbed loudly, unable to contain his sorrow.
Elizabeth rested her hand on Clark's soft hair, stroking it back as she said nothing, knowing full well that nothing she said would appease him or make him feel any better. All she could do was be there for him.
...
The funeral of Jonathan Kent was a small affair. Elizabeth was there for Clark, defying her parent's wishes. They said that it was not her place to go. They told her that Clark wouldn't want her there. He needed time alone to cope with what had happened.
Elizabeth had snapped back, telling them that she was old enough to do the right thing. Clark had appreciated her being there. He had sat by her side with his mother holding onto his arm, crying silent sobs. Clark's free hand had found Elizabeth's again, taking the only source of comfort which he would from her.
She had continued to attend school, making notes for Clark so that he didn't fall too far behind. She hadn't seen Clark since the funeral a week ago. He hadn't been at school, and he hadn't phoned her or made any attempt to contact her. She thought that he did need time to grieve. A week felt a long time without Clark. She knew that she had to see him eventually.
It was on the Saturday morning when she grabbed her bike from the garage. She climbed on and biked as far as possible, her satchel in the basket as the wind rushed through her hair. She finally made it to the Kent residence, looking around for any sign of life. She saw nothing for a moment until she knocked on the front door.
Martha stood there, her eyes wide and a tea towel in her hands as she looked at Elizabeth.
"Lizzie...I hadn't expected to see you here..." she informed the young girl.
"No," Elizabeth said. "I came to see Clark...I know he may not want to see me...but I need to talk to him..."
"Of course he will want to see you," Martha said weakly. "He's in the backyard...just go through..."
"Thank you, Mrs Kent," Elizabeth said, forcing herself to smile politely.
She grabbed her satchel from her basket, draping it over her shoulder before moving around to find Clark. He was sat on the grass, a football in his hands. He heard the crunching of grass underneath her feet, knowing full well who it was.
"Clark," Elizabeth whispered his name.
She hesitantly moved closer to him, sitting by his side on the damp ground. She folded her legs underneath her, extending one arm to keep her upright on the grass. She turned to look at him as he stared straight ahead.
"How are you feeling?" she wondered gently. He had no chance to answer for she shook her head. "I'm sorry, that is a stupid question. Such a stupid question."
"I don't feel anything," Clark replied, ignoring her previous comment. "Lizzie, I feel nothing. I spent the first week crying...the second week feeling guilty...and now...there is nothing."
She bit down on her bottom lip, not too sure how she should respond to that. She didn't have any answers to what had happened. She had no magical solution to make Clark feel better, although she wished that she did. She longed to make him feel better.
"I would have revealed myself," Clark said. "I should have done it. I should have saved him."
"He knew that you weren't ready," Elizabeth said. "You cannot blame yourself for this, Clark. It is not your-"
"-It is my fault," he interrupted her. "Of course it is my fault, Lizzie. I stood by and watched my father die. I could have stopped it. I could have saved him."
Lizzie flinched back at his harsh tone. He threw the ball miles away from him, unable to hold his anger in any longer. He clenched his hands into fists, his eyes looking to her as he waited for her to say something to him. But what did he want her to say? Did he want her to agree with him? Did he want her to disagree with him? Clark had no idea what he truly wanted. He just wanted her to say something. He needed her to speak before he went mad with his own thoughts.
"Your father was a good and honest man," Elizabeth told him. "He died to protect you, Clark. He did what he thought was best for you. Don't resent him for that."
"I don't resent him," Clark said to her. "I resent myself. I resent myself for not being ready."
"Don't," Elizabeth urged him, only then daring to place her hand on Clark's shoulder, holding it tightly in her grasp. "Clark, don't resent yourself. That is not what your father would have wanted, you know that."
"I know it," Clark said. "It doesn't make it any easier, Lizzie."
"Nothing will make it easier," she whispered to him. "You just have to move on. You have to do what your dad wanted you to do."
Clark listened to her words, thinking about how much sense she had just made. It made a change for Elizabeth to speak with logic. Clark moved closer to her, resting his head on top of her shoulder, watching the wind blow the grass in the breeze. Lizzie dropped her head to his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment and wondering what more she could say.
"How is your mother?" Elizabeth suddenly wondered , unable to stand the silence for much longer.
"She's strong," Clark spoke. "She stays strong for my sake...but I sometimes hear her crying...and I don't know what to do. I don't know if she resents me for-"
"-Don't you dare," Elizabeth snapped, sitting up tall again, pushing Clark's head from hers. "Don't you dare say that, Clark. Your mother does not resent you for what you have done. She could never resent you. Don't think like that."
"It's hard not to."
"I get that," Lizzie said. "You just have to push it aside, Clark. Deep down...you know she doesn't resent you. She loves you. You're her son."
With no response, Clarke took to wrapping his fingers together multiple times. He was unsure of what to do, if he had to be honest. In a way he just wanted to leave. He wanted to get away from Smallville. He wanted to find out who he was. It was what he needed to do.
His mother would understand; Clark was sure of it.
"Then I know what I have to do," Clark said to her. "I have to find out who I am...I have to know, Lizzie. Dad would have wanted me to. He gave his life to protect me. The least I can do is know who I am."
"And how are you going to do that?" Lizzie asked him. "Clark, you have no idea where to begin. The logical place would be-"
"-There is no logic," Clark interrupted her. "Don't you see? There is no logic to this, Liz. Sometimes you need to think outside the box."
"Clark...please...think about it..." she urged him. "Don't do anything rash."
"I won't," he promised her. "Besides, I assume I need to finish school before I can go."
"You do," she said and went into her satchel. "I've made you the notes for the next few weeks. Exams are looming...well, I get that they're not the most important thing on your mind right now."
"Thank you," Clark replied, taking the notes from her hands. "I know you're looking out for me, Liz. I don't expect to do well in exams."
"Well, maybe I'll let you copy," she attempted to joke. It seemed to work because a small smile lit up Clark's face.
"Lizzie, darling!"
Lizzie turned around to see Martha stood on the porch, a mug of coffee in her hands. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"
Lizzie bit down on her lip for a moment. She would normally say yes. She would usually agree to dinner at the Kent household.
"Stay," Clark urged her. "You're not interrupting anything."
"That would be lovely, Mrs Kent."
Martha nodded and turned on her heel, walking back inside to leave Clark and Lizzie to their own thoughts.
"I don't have to stay," Lizzie whispered to Clark.
"No," he said. "I want you to stay...besides...we might not have a lot of time left together now."
"Don't say that," she urged him. "We'll still see each other, Clark, just not as often."
"Yeah," Clark said, not truly believing his own words. "Of course we will."