Clark stood outside Lizzie's house. It was situated in a terrace of houses; the street it sat on was quiet and full of cars parked by the sidewalk. Clark looked up to the small path to her door. The living room light was on, along with her bedroom light. He took a deep breath, moving up the stone path as he watched the door. He knocked lightly, taking deep breaths and waiting patiently.

"Clark."

Mr Lowe answered the door, his face scrunched up as if a bad smell had entered his nostril. Her parents had never approved of Clark, and Clark knew why. They believed people like Mrs Fordman. They were willing to see the worst in people.

"I need to see Lizzie," Clark said. "Is she in?"

Mr Lowe took a moment to think about what was being asked from him. He said nothing for a second, turning his head over his shoulder to look up the stairs. His daughter had been firmly shut in her room for the past four hours. She had only come downstairs for a snack and a bottle of water. Her father didn't want to tell her about the whispers he had heard on his way home. She didn't need distracting from her studies.

"She's studying, Clark," Mr Lowe spoke.

"I know that," Clark said. "I only need to talk to her for a moment."

"I don't think that's a good idea." The new voice spoke. Mrs Lowe stood beside her husband, her arms folded and her eyes glaring at the boy. She glared at him with more hatred than her husband had. "She has an important exam tomorrow. She doesn't need you messing with her mind."

"I-"

"-We've heard the rumours," Mrs Lowe spoke. "You were about to punch Whitney before he got out of the way. He saw what you did. You are not normal, Clark."

"I did not-"

"-Of course you would try to deny it," Mrs Lowe snorted. "So no, I shall not let you anywhere near my daughter. I've detested the fact that you two were close for a long time...what with the talk of your behaviour before...and now it has been proved that you are no good for her. She goes to New York soon. Until then, I will do my best to keep her from you."

"Ellie, honey," Mr Lowe interrupted. "Don't be too harsh on the boy. You know what Lizzie has told us of Whitney."

"I would never hurt your daughter," Clark promised them. "I care for her."

"We know," Mr Lowe agreed, glaring at his wife as she glared back at him. She clearly was not impressed with being disregarded. "We know that you do, Clark. Lizzie cares for you...Gods we know it...but...for tonight, Clark...we need her to study. She has advanced math tomorrow. She needs her time to study."

"No," Mrs Lowe complained. "She isn't going to be seeing you any other day. Lizzie doesn't need you lurking around her. You've stopped her from being social for too long. It stops now. She deserves to be normal...not having to defend you all the time..."

"Look, Mrs Lowe, I know that you don't think a lot of me. I understand that. But I really do need to see Lizzie. I won't be long. I promise."

"No," Mrs Lowe said, her hand resting on the door as she began to close it in Clark's face. "Stay away from our daughter, Clark. I mean it."

Clark wanted to do nothing more than push past the pair of them and go straight to Lizzie. He wondered if she had heard any of the argument. He doubted it considering she hadn't come down to argue with her parents. She wouldn't have stood by and allowed them to treat him with such contempt.

He took a few steps back from her house, looking to it and wondering what he could do. Lizzie's room had two windows, one at the front of the house and one at the back. Clark recalled her words before.

'Can't you fly? That would be an amazing power to have.'

He had thought about it for a long time. He supposed now was the time to find out. He used his speed to rush to her back gate, bolting over it to stand in the back garden. He looked up to her window and bent down to the ground. If he used enough force then it may be possible. Clark closed his eyes, using all of the concentration which he had. He felt himself being plummeted from the ground, hurtling into the night sky.

He yelled out as he continued to go upwards, the ground becoming even smaller than before. He laughed after a moment, looking over the entire neighbourhood with a sense of power. And then he remembered the basic law of physics. Everything that goes up must come down. That was when Clark felt his panic begin to build. He kept quiet, his breaths strained as he fell downwards, his legs and arms scrambling around him.

He tried to move closer to her window, the light of Lizzie's room coming into his sight.

Lizzie sat at her desk, a book in her hand as she ran a curler through her hair. She could have swung for Clark Kent earlier. He had given her one day to decide how she should look for prom. She wondered why she even cared. She knew that most of the population of Smallville High wouldn't look at her twice. They wouldn't care what she looked like.

But she cared. She knew there was one main reason why she cared. She supposed it would be because it had been Clark who had asked her to the prom. She knew that she cared for Clark, she just didn't know how much until it was too late. She didn't dare say anything, knowing full well that Clark was too intent on leaving to fulfil his dream of finding out who he was. She was going to NYC, and he was going travelling.

She wished things could be different, but it was the harsh reality that they couldn't.

She sighed, looking to the mirror which sat at the end of her long desk which doubled as a dressing table. She looked ridiculous. She knew she looked stupid. Her hair was naturally straight, and why fight nature? She then stood up, proceeding to glance at the full length mirror in the corner, her math book in her hand as she stood in the pale pink dress. Pulling at the hem, she recited the rule of trigonometry.

"And now, Pythagoras," she groaned, flipping a page.

Her studying was interrupted as she heard a thud on her window. She screeched loudly, throwing her book to the floor and then turning around. There was nothing there.

"Birds," she grumbled, bending over to pick her book up. She stood up again, her gaze going to the window before she screamed again. How was he stood on her windowsill? How was it possible?

"Clark," she called out to him.

He was crouched down on the small sill, his hands holding to the bricks which surrounded it as he glared at her.

"Opening the window may be helpful," he snapped at her through the glass.

She managed to hear him and rushed over, twisting the key and then opening the side pane. Clark angled his body to get into the room. He took a deep breath as he set foot on steady ground.

"Has the door become too boring for you?" Lizzie asked, shutting the window again before looking back to him.

"Oh, droll," Clark replied. "Your parents wouldn't let me in. They dislike me."

"I didn't hear you downstairs," Lizzie commented, brushing past to him to pick up her notes from her desk. Clark watched her walk, his brow furrowing for a moment.

"I'm surprised. I was expecting your yells at any moment...are you wearing a dress? And have you curled your hair?"

"You're on top form tonight," Lizzie said.

"Lizzie!"

She looked at Clark for a moment as her father yelled for her. She grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him to her wardrobe and pushing him inside. He closed the doors, waiting as Lizzie opened the door to her bedroom.

"Yeah?" she wondered from her father.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked. "We heard you scream."

"Oh...yeah..." Lizzie said, beginning to search for a lie. Clark inwardly groaned, knowing how terrible she was at lying. "I was curling my hair...and...sort of burnt my scalp..."

"Liz," he scolded her. "I've told you that those things are death traps."

"And you're right," Lizzie said. "Congratulations, dad."

"And why are you even curling your hair? And wearing a dress?"

"It's prom tomorrow night," Lizzie explained. "I only remembered. I needed something to wear...so I'm studying and trying on outfits. Women can multitask."

"I know that too well because of your mother," he snorted back. "Who are you going to prom with?"

"Who do you think?" Lizzie replied, her brow arched. Mr Lowe shook his head then, knowing full well that her mother would not allow her to go with Clark. But he said nothing. He didn't want to upset his daughter before her exam. He didn't want Clark to be the disruption for her.

"Study hard," was all that her father said.

She nodded once and closed the door again. She pressed her ear to the door, listening on as her father trudged back down the stairs. Clark fell out of her wardrobe, looking at her for a moment with a small smile.

"I blame you for this, Clark Kent," Lizzie complained to him, fussing around her notes on her desk. "I'm in a complete state...I have an exam tomorrow, yet I'm focusing on a prom."

"Liz," Clark whispered to her. "I...I have something to tell you..."

Lizzie knew that tone. It was Clark's serious tone. She stood tall and dropped a hand to her hip, waiting for him to explain.

"I can't take you to prom," Clark said. "I...I'm leaving...tonight..."

She looked at him, wondering if he was being serious with her. Surely he was joking. How could he leave that night? How could he give her no warning? She rolled her eyes then, a small smile of disbelief settling on her face.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," Clark promised her. "I can't stay here. I...it was after the exam...Whitney..."

Lizzie needed no more words. She was bright enough to understand what he was saying to her. She shook her head at him, her mouth agape as she tried to form words.

"Did you kill him?" she wondered lowly.

"What?" Clark replied. "Lizzie, God, no. Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know!" Lizzie said. "Your face was scaring me a bit. Besides, I wouldn't mind if you did. You know what I think of Whitney Fordman. Anyway, I'm glad you didn't kill him...not that you would be in jail for long; you'd break out in a moment. Do you-"

"-You're rambling." Clark interrupted her speech.

She closed her mouth and looked at him again.

"I didn't even punch him. I had him against the wall, ready to do just that. I wanted to do nothing more than punch him, Lizzie...but...I dropped him. I hit the wall. He saw me smash it. He'd told everyone, Liz. That's why your parents wouldn't let me in."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She should have been there to stop it like last time. She should have stopped him.

"It's fine," Lizzie said. "You can say that Whitney is unstable...he is...let's be honest...he isn't the brightest of humans..."

"No one would believe me," Clark told her. "You know that, Lizzie. They all think I'm a freak as it is."

"That doesn't mean you have to leave," she said, dropping her book to her desk. She leant against it, perching on the edge as she did so. "Prom doesn't matter. I don't care about that...but...you don't have to go, not yet, Clark."

"I wanted to hurt him," Clark whispered; his admittance something which scared him. "Questions will be asked. Questions which I can't answer. I have blown my cover, Liz. I...my dad died to protect me...what does it all mean now? What does it all mean? Fordman will be at my mom asking questions. It is best that I'm not there. I don't want to see her hurt. It isn't her they want."

"It's not some witch hunt, Clark," Liz whispered. "You can explain to people what it is. They will understand."

"They won't," Clark whispered. "They won't understand, because I don't understand. I want to know, Lizzie. I have to know. You knew that I had to go."

"I didn't want to believe it," she whispered, looking down at her hands. "I still don't want to."

"You have no choice," Clark replied. "The guilt by being here is eating me up. It is hurting me, Liz."

"I know." She agreed. And she did know. She turned back around to her desk, unable to look at Clark any longer. She bent over it, fussing with her papers as she felt tears well up in her eyes. "Anyway, you can wait for a few days, can't you? We can go somewhere...well...your mom could take you somewhere until the dust settles down. She could take you to NY? I know a load of hotels there. We'd be fine, wouldn't we? You'd be safe, and everything would be fine. Of course, there can be a lot of crimes, but you'd have that covered...and..."

She trailed off as she felt his hand move around her to rest on one of her shaking ones. She could feel his chest against her back, his other hand resting softly on her waist. She took a deep breath, her tears falling onto her desk as she stood back up, turning in Clark's hold and wrapping her arms around his neck. Clark felt shock take over him for a moment as he held her back, his own hand running down her curled hair.

"Don't go," she pleaded with him. "Please, don't leave...Clark...please..."

"Sh," Clark urged her, pulling back for a moment. She kept her hands on his shoulders, her grip firm, almost as if she refused to let him part from her. "It won't be for a long time, Lizzie. I will visit you sooner than you think. Besides, you'll be too busy in New York to think about me."

"I won't," she replied adamantly. "You know that."

"Maybe not," Clark lamely said. "This isn't the end, Liz. You know it, and I know it. Don't cry."

Lizzie scoffed for a moment, rubbing a hand over her eyes to stop the tears. She shook her head at him, a small smile on her face.

"I'm crying because I spent all of this time preparing for prom...all two hours of prep..." she complained to him. "And then you stand me up."

"I'm sorry," Clark said. He truly was sorry. "You do look beautiful."

"Shut up," Lizzie said, thumping him on the chest. He shook his head, looking down at her. He looked up her bare legs to where the skirt flared out before being clenched in at her small waist. The capped sleeves were level with the neckline as intricate flowers decorated it lightly.

"No," Clark said. "You do look beautiful, Lizzie. I'm not joking."

"You're terrible at jokes anyway," Lizzie muttered at him.

She didn't know what he was doing as he took hold of her hand and held it in the air. His other hand found her waist as she looked at him with puzzlement.

"What are you doing?"

"It would be disrespectful not to dance, considering you went to such an effort," Clark informed her, beginning to walk her backwards and to the side. She placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking her head as Clark looked at her red rimmed eyes and gave a small smile.

He instantly bumped into her once he took his eyes from the ground.

"Just a minute," Clark said after the second bump. She waited for a moment before he picked her up by the waist and placed her on his own feet. She laughed lightly, trying to be quiet to keep her parents away. Both of Clark's arms wrapped around her waist as she dangled hers around his neck.

"Do I really weigh nothing to you?"

"It's like carrying a fly," he promised her, slowly moving from side to side.

"You know," she whispered, "I think we've ruined the friendship. Friends don't dance this close to each other."

"True," Clark agreed. "Although, I do fail to care."

"I suppose we can look past it. You have felt me up before."

"If you're talking about that time I saved your life, then that does not count," Clark recalled.

"It so does count," she said, a small trace of humour back in her eyes. A silence fell over them for another moment. "If it counts, well...I suppose I don't care at this moment in time."

Lizzie looked back at him, wondering what was happening. Clark lowered her to the ground, his grip refusing to let up on her. She said nothing for a moment, wondering what Clark was doing as he closed his eyes and moved closer to her, clearly intent on doing something which friends did not do.

"Clark," Lizzie complained, pulling back from him in his hold. "What are you doing?"

"I..." he stammered, too much in shock to comprehend words.

"We can't," Lizzie replied. "If this isn't the end then we can't risk our friendship. We cannot risk what we have now because you left and kissed me...what if you came back...and I still felt something for you? What about if you had found someone else? It would hurt...and if I found someone, which is highly unlikely because I am hardly attractive, well, that would be awkward too, wouldn't it? I'm not saying that you should be jealous, because you shouldn't. You're much better looking than I am."

"Are you finished?" Clark asked her as she took a deep breath. "Lizzie, I'm not going to search the earth for the chosen one. I'm going to try and find my heritage."

"You could find her in your past," Lizzie said. "She could be as super as you are."

"I doubt it," Clark snorted. "Just tell me that the thought has never crossed your mind."

"What thought?"

"About us two...well...being together?" Clark asked sheepishly. What did he have to lose? He was leaving, and so was she.

"What?" Lizzie asked. "Well...I mean...of course...we spend enough time together...but...I didn't think you were ever interested in me. I'm hardly a catch, am I?"

Clark dared to step closer to her then, moving his hand to her cheek. He rested his fingers there, the contact causing her to shiver under his touch. She instinctively rested her hand on top of his.

"Why are we talking about this when it is too late?" Lizzie wondered.

"You've always been too slow," Clark said to her, moving closer to her as she closed her eyes and felt his hot breath on her cheek.

"You may physically be quick, but I am hardly slow. I think you'll find my-"

She was cut off as Clark's mouth descended on hers. She gasped suddenly as she felt his other hand curve around the back of her neck. It always amazed her how soft he could be when she considered how strong he really was. He moved closer to her then, pressing their bodies flush together as he dared to move his lips against hers. He seemed to be doing something right for she pushed her hands through his hair and groaned at the contact between the pair of them.

Clark dared to move his hands down her sides, the material of the dress rubbing against her skin as he made the movement and she shuddered as he boldly moved one hand to cup her bottom. He could blame that on teenage hormones.

"Lizzie!"

Clark instantly jumped back from her, his mouth parting from hers as his hands remained in place. Lizzie turned to look at the door, pushing Clark away from her as he hid in the wardrobe again.

"What is it this time?" she snapped at her dad, flinging the door open as he looked at her with wide eyes.

"I just came up to see if you wanted a hot chocolate before bed." He spoke. "Are you okay? You seem flustered."

"Oh...yeah...just math...you know how it is," she complained. "I'm not thirsty anyway. I'm just going to go to sleep."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Night, dad," she poke, pecking him on the cheek and then slamming the door on him.

Clark fell out the wardrobe again, looking at her for another moment as she dropped her hands to her hips.

"I thought you had super sensitive hearing?" she wondered.

"I...well...I was a bit distracted," Clark admitted.

"Groping my ass," Lizzie mumbled.

"It is a fine ass," Clark promised her.

"Hey!" she said, pointing at him. "Too far, Kent. I'm warning you."

He held his hands up in surrender then. A spout of silence came over the pair of them before Clark spoke.

"I should let you sleep. You have an exam tomorrow."

"I doubt I will be able to sleep."

"You need to try, and I need to pack."

"Will begging for you not to go change anything?" Lizzie whispered into the darkness, wrapping her arms around herself as she suddenly felt cold.

"No," Clark said, his honesty apparent in his tone. "You know that, Lizzie."

"I know," she said in a small voice.

He moved back to her, daring to hug her before kissing the top of her head. She pecked his cheek, trying her best not to cry in front of him. She could save her tears for the darkness. He didn't need to see her weakness.

"How are you getting home?" she wondered as he opened the window.

"I might fly," Clark considered for a second. "My bike is outside your house. I'll hide it before I go."

"You're really getting the hang of these powers," Lizzie sniffed.

Clark climbed to sit on the windowsill, still looking at her as he adjusted his body to stand on the small ledge. He bent down as she placed both of her hands on his neck, resting her forehead against his.

"Promise me that you'll be safe," she urged him. "Promise me that, Clark."

"I promise," Clark said to her. "You promise me."

"Clark, I'm from the city. We were born tough," she said, looking to him to see that he was not appeased. "But yes, I promise you."

"Good," Clark spoke. "Now get some sleep and get into college. I'll be back before you know it."

"I know," Lizzie agreed, not too sure if she did know or not. She grasped at his shirt collar for a second, her breath hitting his cheek as she began to cry. She couldn't help it.

"Hey," Clark said to her. "This isn't goodbye."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain," Clark said. "I'll see to it that it isn't."

"And you are some kind of superhero," Lizzie said. "I suppose you will see to it."

"I'm hardly a superhero," Clark said.

She shook her head. "You are...you're like...a superman or something..."

"You're too hysterical," Clark declared and she laughed once, closing her eyes as she felt him kiss her again quickly. "Lizzie, you need to let go. I have to go."

"Oh," she whispered, slowly releasing her hands from his shirt. Clark caught one of her hands in his, squeezing it tightly as he smiled softly.

"I'll miss you," he admitted to her.

"I should hope so," she replied to him, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. "Go and find out who you are, Clark...but come back...please come back..."

Clark nodded, kissing the back of her hand and forcing himself to smile for her sake.

"I'll see you later, Liz."

She had no chance to say anything more as Clark released her hand and dropped down from her windowsill. She watched him hit the ground and bolt over to her gate. She stood at the window for another few moments, leaning out of it as the tears freely fell then. A few moments later she saw him in the night sky, a figure moving into the distance until her vision became blurred and she could see no more.

Resting a hand over her mouth, she slumped to the floor, the cool night air blowing into her room as she openly sobbed. She cried until she could cry no more, and then she went to feeling numb.

...

A/N: This is hardly the end of the story! Anyway, two chapters in one day. I hope you liked them and let me know what you think!