Chapter Text
“Clark, you’re going to be late!” Martha Kent warned up the stairs. She stood in her kitchen, flour coated hands on her hips, slightly glaring at the ceiling. She sighed and shook her head, not for the first time today, at her son’s utter lack of punctuality. She turned again to her task of preparing her pie crust for baking. When she heard her frustration echoed in a huff, she glanced at her adopted niece.
Emma Cartwright sat at the counter, her honey blonde hair braided to the side, nibbling absently on a bagel. Her brow furrowed in concentration over her pale green eyes as she continued to scribble in a notebook. After a few more minutes of waiting she sighed as well and stood up, brushing imagined wrinkles out of her black, Nirvana t-shirt.
“I love him Aunt Martha,” Emma commented as she gathered her books and placed them in her messenger bag. It clinked as she hoisted it onto her shoulder, the front dripping with various buttons depicting her favorite bands. “But I refuse to be late again. Especially, if the reason in question can outrun my old truck.”
She did give him a few more minutes, however, before she finally gave up on her cousin, kissed her Aunt on the cheek and headed out the door. Jonathan Kent had just finished checking her oil when she walked up. The forest green ford, or “the Beast” as Clark called it, was in pretty good condition to be six years old. She was proud when she earned the money to get it by working at the Beanery, even if their coffee was shit.
“Clark oversleep again?” He asked with a small smile. When she just rolled her eyes and nodded in response, he shook his head and closed the hood. “Well your oil looks good, checked your spark plugs, and your tire pressure. You should be good to go kiddo!”
He squeezed her shoulders with one arm and opened the driver’s side door on the other. She smiled and threw her bag into the passenger’s seat as she climbed into the cab. The Beast roared to life beneath her as he closed her door. She was about to leave when she suddenly rolled down her window.
“Uncle Jon!” She called to him as he walked towards the barn, “Thank you, for everything you guys do for me. I love you!”
“We love you too sweetheart!” He replied as he smiled back at her over his shoulder.
Her smile widened as she waved goodbye and pulled out onto the long driveway. Once she was finally on her way, she sighed and let her mind wander. Jonathan wasn’t really her uncle, by blood anyway, he had been her father’s best friend since high school.
When her father had been killed in the meteor shower, the Kents had taken her and her younger brother, Jason, into their home. At least until all the legal mess was resolved and her Grandparents could be notified. Who, apparently, had no idea she and Jason even existed. They had not taken the news well at first. But after accepting the facts, they decided the children should live in Metropolis with them.
Her Grandparents were not monsters, but they were cold people and felt a clean break was necessary. When it finally came time for them to leave, Emma begged to stay. Of course, Uncle Jon argued that a connection to their father was necessary, and somehow he got through to them. So they had agreed, begrudgingly, to let her and Jason spend summers with the Kents.
Then, a few days before her fifteenth birthday, her Grandparents had died in a house fire. Jason, also passed a few weeks later due to his injuries. She had been left alone. She had stayed with her friend Sera for a few months but that hadn’t worked out either. She was at the end of her rope and felt completely alone.
Then she received a call from Jonathan and her future didn’t look so bleak anymore. She had moved into the Kent’s spare bedroom and they treated her like family. She had lived there two years now and she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else.
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She was almost to town when a rush of wind slammed into her truck bed. Glaring into the rearview mirror, she saw her would be attacker. It was a teenage boy with bright green eyes and a huge grin plastered in his face. She was going to kill him this time, for sure.
“Clark! You scared the hell out of me!” She bellowed as he maneuvered himself through the passenger window. He laughed and straightened his dark curls in the mirror.
“Sorry Em, I just thought this would be easier to explain to the guys. I mean, I did miss the bus again.” He
explained as he pulled a corn cob out of his jacket pocket, his eyebrows creased in confusion.
“What is that? Your peace offering?” Emma snorted as she returned her attention to the road. “Or is your appetite that insatiable?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He replied in mock offense, as he placed the cob in his bag.
“Says the boy who can eat three stacks of pancakes in one sitting.” She shot back with a smirk.
“It was four actually.” He mumbled as he ducked his head, trying to hide a blush.
“To be fair, I made it through two and a half before I gave up.” She said as she glanced at him.
His leg was bouncing up and down and his head was cocked to the side. He continued this nervous habit as they pulled into her usual parking space. She turned and noticed a crumpled slip of paper that had fallen on the seat beside him.
“So, did Uncle Jon change his mind?” She asked
innocently as she nodded to the paper. His answer was a glare that fixated somewhere out the passenger window.
She couldn’t blame him for wanting to fit in, and joining a team or club would help in that. She had started Smallville High all alone, with a bit of a reputation as a trouble
maker. That part had been disproven eventually, but those first few months had been hell. At least he had her, Pete and Chloe to keep him company in the ‘loser’ section of the cafeteria.
“Clark, you are going to be fine.” She promised as she put a hand on his arm, “ One day you will realize that the ‘cool kids’ and their parties are way less exciting than
people think.”
“Haha…” He fake laughed as they exited the truck. “I know you’re right, I just … I wish I wasn’t so… you know.”
It was a topic they discussed often, as two teenagers with more than just puberty awkwardness to worry about. After all, how many “normal” teens can lift a tractor over their head or heal broken bones with their mind? As much as the Kents tried to be supportive, sometimes you just need to vent with someone who understands.
A familiar voice broke through their thoughts and they both headed towards the sound. Chloe Sullivan, a short girl with a platinum blond pixie cut and way too many rings and Pete Ross, a dark skinned boy with a bright smile and even brighter red jacket with were headed through the chain link gates ahead of them. They were still talking animatedly as Clark broke off in a jog towards the two.
“Hi guys.” Clark greeted them sheepishly as he pulled on his backpack awkwardly. Chloe whirled around in clear confusion.
“Uh… weren’t you just?” Chloe started, brows furrowed.
“I took a short cut.” He replied nonchalantly, fiddling with his stack of books.
“Through what, a black hole?” She snapped before Emma popped out from behind him.
“Hey Chloe, Pete. You guys excited for homecoming?” She asked at first. Then she saw Chloe’s inquisitive look and Clark very obviously not meeting her eyes. “I gave Clark a ride this morning. The first time is free, next time you buy my lunch.” She gave him a look and he smiled in thanks.
“Can’t a man be mysterious anymore? Between the two of you, there should be no mysteries left in this town.” He asked as they turned towards the building.
“Clark, you'll have to excuse our intrepid reporter.” Pete said as he placed a hand on Clark’s shoulder, “It seems her weirdar is on def-com five. She thought someone was attacking the bus”
“Just because everyone else ignores all the weird goings on in the leafy little hamlet,” She snapped back, “doesn’t mean they don't happen.”
“What exactly happened Chloe?” Emma asked as she rummaged through her bag.
“Well, while Velma and Daphne head off on another zany adventure into weirdsville, we have business to attend to.” Pete said as he rolled his eyes and pushed Clark ahead of the blondes. “Clark and I have permission slips to turn in before home room.”
“Pete I’m having second thoughts,” Clark stuttered as Pete pulled him away from the group, “Maybe signing up for the team is a bad idea.”
“Man, do you wanna end up as a scarecrow?” He whispered harshly, not really noticing Clark’s head snap up as he locked eyes with Emma.
“Wait, are you guys are trying out for the football team. What is this? Some kind of teen suicide pact?” She asked before Pete grabbed her and pulled her to the side of the building.
“We’re trying to avoid becoming this year’s scarecrow.” He whispered in a serious tone.
“What the hell are you talking about? And why are we whispering?” She yelled, shaking his arm off.
“It’s a homecoming tradition. Every year before the big game, they pick a freshman, take them down to Riley’s field and …” He began as Emma butted in.
“They’re trying to avoid getting strung up in a field in their boxers,” Emma said in a quiet voice, “They also spray paint your chest with and ‘S’. Ya know, for Scarecrow. Apparently is a longstanding tradition. Probably because originality is a precious commodity in this backwards town” Pete and Chloe looked at her with furrowed brows, while Clark hovered close with a pained expression.
“What?” Chloe asked, her face turning serious. “That sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen.”
“Why do you think we’re trying out for the team? We figured they wouldn’t pick one of their own.” Pete explained.
“Smart thinking, dumb if you tank tryouts and make yourself a bigger target.” Emma said, as she checked her watch. She looked up again to see Clark floating away into ‘Lana Land’, as Chloe dubbed it. He mumbled a goodbye and squared his shoulders as he made his way over.
“I give him ten seconds.” Pete said. As he pulled out a wrinkled five.
“Five.” Chloe replied as the three of them watched the sad display. Emma tuned out her friends and their somewhat insensitive betting game on her cousin’s life habits.
She watched Clark though, he didn't make it far before falling on his face. She couldn’t understand it, he always acted weird around Lana. It made her sad in a way, he had set himself up for failure and didn’t even know it. He had to pick the one girl that wasn’t interested in him, and she was with Whitney. She sighed and headed to her own class, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder to the other two.
————————————————————————
“Hey, did you hear someone vandalized the trophy case? They just punched through the glass… Clark are you listening to me?” Emma asked as she jostled his arm.
Apparently the answer was no, as he continued to just stare into space. They were sitting on the bleachers and working on homework. Well Emma was anyway, she was pretty sure Clark was on another planet. Which was why he didn't notice Pete walk up in full gear.
“You're looking … protected?” She commented, trying to sound encouraging and failing miserably. He just laughed and adjusted some straps on his shoulder.
“You're just jealous cause I look so awesome, right Clark?” He asked before noticing the thousand yard stare, he grabbed Clark’s arm and yelled, “Hey Clark!”
“Gah! Uh… what?” Was Clark’s incoherent reply.
“I said how do I look?” He asked again as he puffed out his chest.
“Like a tackle dummy.” He said with a wry smile as he gathered his things. “Good luck, we gotta get home and help with chores.”
As Clark walked away Emma added, “Pete, don't take it personally, he's just a bit out of it today. See you tomorrow.”
On their way home, they stopped in town for a coffee, and Clark was still quiet. Sure he was always quiet. But this was a brooding, teenage angst type of quiet. Emma tried to cheer him up in the usual ways, most of them involved sticking straws in her ears. Eventually, she suggested a walk to clear his head.
They found themselves on Loeb bridge, tossing rocks into the river. They didn’t talk but that's how Clark dealt with things these days, or rather didn’t. Emma climbed up on the railing and pretended to walk the tightrope. That got a laugh from him and she smiled at herself. Neither of them saw the approaching car, until the popping of tires drew their attention.
Their was no time to react, well not for Emma anyway. For her, it was just a brush of hands on her shoulders and then freezing cold water. When she surfaced, she didn't see Clark at all. She was close to the river bank and reminded herself to thank Clark later. She was about to swim out further to look for him when he broke the surface, dragging an obviously, unconscious man with him.
She hauled herself onto dry land and immediately prepped a spot to put him. As Clark laid him gingerly on the ground, she moved to positioned his head on her folded jacket. Something pricked her mind as she looked at his face, a memory flitting just out of reach. But she mentally swatted it away so she could focus on saving his life.
She checked his breathing and pulse, nothing. She held up a finger to Clark as she pressed her mouth against the unconscious man’s and breathed into it. Reaching out with her mind, she searched for his injuries. She had learned from experience that the worst ones were best to heal before the person regains consciousness. Less screaming that way.
She found the dislocated shoulder and popped it back into place, the collar bone was broken, cleanly, so that too snapped back into place. A few fingers were fractured but it was his neck that was the biggest issue, two vertebrae were practically shattered. Those took a bit more out of her, to meld the small, fragmented bones back together.
When she was done her head was throbbing, only a few seconds had passed but it felt like hours. And all her effort would be wasted if he didn't start breathing again, soon. She glanced at Clark and nodded. He immediately started chest compressions, counting to ten and moving quickly out of her way.
“Come on, don't die on me.” Clark demanded of the unconscious man as he put as much strength behind his compressions as he dared. Emma still felt a rib or two strain with the pressure but they held and she breathed into him again.
She felt him jolt back to life under her, and he almost head butted her as his body jerked up and spewed river water by her knees. He coughed and took a few gasping breaths before sitting up a bit on his elbows. Once he could see straight, he alternated stares between Clark and the bridge.
“I could’ve sworn I hit you.” He said, almost accusingly, in a deep, melodic voice. A hauntingly familiar voice at that struck Emma like a bolt of lightening.
“If you did I’d be… I’d be dead.” Clark’s reply trailed off as he turned back to the bent railing.
The guy closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head and looked around. It was then that he noticed Emma, who was awkwardly trying to ring out her hair. He stared at her for a long moment before she felt his eyes on her. She gave a small, reassuring smile as she moved closer. She stared into his eyes for a moment, those same eyes she remembered from that long night two years ago.
“Hi,” She finally said as she gently pushed down on his shoulder, “You should really be still until we know the extent of your injuries.”
“I … alright.” He replied as she adjusted her jacket under him.
His crystal blue eyes watched her as she looked him over again. He was a bit taller, but probably still shorter than Clark, with lean, wiry muscles she could see under the long sleeves of his gray shirt. He was still bald, but his face had filled out a bit. And still the same eyes, a little harder than before, but still strong as they bore into her.
Shaking herself back into the moment, she examined the small cut on his cheek. A superficial wound that she skipped over in her initial evaluation. But now it seemed to need her attention, or maybe she just wanted to touch him again. To make sure he was really here.
When her fingers brushed across his skin he grabbed her wrist instinctively. She locked eyes with him and they held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Thousands of conversations passed between them, all raw emotion and confusion. When he relaxed his grip, he gently rubbed her wrist with his thumb absently. Looking almost sheepishly at her through his sparse lashes.
“Forgive me,” He said as he continued to massage her wrist, “I just… I never through I’d see an Angel twice in my lifetime.”
She was blushing, she could feel it all the way to her toes. But he must really be out of it to be flirting so soon after dying. She gently pulled her hand away and leaned back a bit. He almost followed her when she placed a hand on his chest.
“It’s Emma and trust me, I’m no angel, and neither is Clark.” She said as she gestured towards him. He was still staring at the bridge.
“Yes it is, and please ignore that comment. I seem to have no restraint after near death experiences.” He replied as he laid back again.
She sighed and went back to examining him, this time making a point to ask before touching him. He did allow it this time, with minimal flinching as well. He kept talking though, asking question after question. ‘Where did she
receiver her training?’, ‘How does a high school student know so much about medical terminology’, ‘Do you intend to pursue a medical career?’. She answered with mostly nods or one word answers. It was definitely a front for his uneasiness but she let him have it.
She heard Clark talking to someone who had come across the accident. And before she knew it, the place was swarming with medical personnel, cops, and concerned townsfolk. She soon found herself sitting on the bumper of an ambulance with a red blanket around her. And now it was her turn to be poked and prodded.
She could see Lex out of the corner of her eye. He was still watching her, and she could swear he was smirking. She simply smiled back and continued to answer pointless questions.
Eventually, Jonathan Kent arrived on the scene. Literally sliding down the embankment looking around wildly. He started yelling their names as he neared the bottom.
“Emma! Clark!” He yelled as he caught sight of his only child. “Son, are you alright?”
“I’m fine dad, we both are.” Clark replied as Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at Emma, searching for injuries before continuing. “Who was the maniac driving that car?”
“That would be me, Lex Luthor.” Lex said as he extended a hand to Jonathan. The awkward stare down felt like it drug on forever as Emma dropped her blanket and slowly made her way over to them. Lex’s hand dropped to his side as Jonathan pulled off his coat.
“Jonathan Kent, this is my son.” He finally said as he wrapped the coat around Clark. “And my niece Emma.”
“Thanks for saving my life.” Lex said towards her and Clark, who looked like he wished the earth would open up and swallow him.
“I’m sure you would've done the same thing.” He said meekly. Emma smiled knowingly as Jonathan ushered them towards the top of the hill.
“You've got quite an extraordinary boy there Mr. Kent,” Lex commented as they passed by, “If there's anything I can do to repay you-” He was cut off by Jonathan’s glare, as he stared him down again.
“Just… drive slower.” He replied in and an exasperated tone. He walked a bit further before turning to Emma. “Come on sweetheart, it’s time to go.”
“I need to get my truck, it’s at the Beanery.” She replied as she stopped short, not wanting to leave quite yet.
“Straight home, understand?” He said roughly. Not waiting for a reply they continued their trek up the hill. Emma sighed and turned back to Lex, who was looking back at the river. The crane was just pulling the remains of his silver Porsche out of the water. It was an unguarded moment and as he stared at what could've been, he looked lost, in every way possible.
He felt her staring and she saw as that familiar mask lock back into place. He turned to her as he pulled the red blanket off of his shoulders and wrapped it around her slowly. It was almost reverent, the way he made sure it covered her evenly.
She only came up to his shoulder, but she figured if she stretched up on her toes. She could reach his lips. She was lost in her thoughts until she felt his hand on hers. He lifted it to his pale lips as a soft kiss caressed her knuckles. She suddenly felt weak in the knees, and could feel the burning of her cheeks.
“I wanted to thank you,” He explained as he stared into her eyes, “Clark may have pulled me out of that car, but you breathed the life back into me. How can I repay such a priceless gift?”
“You can’t,” She said once she could breathe again, “Besides, we’re even now. Uncle Jon is right though. You could stand to drive a bit slower, at least in the city limits.”
She smiled as she turned to make her own way up the hill. She had walked a few steps before realizing he was following, and still holding her hand. His hands were longer than her’s, with slim fingers that curled over her’s effortlessly. Like they were made to fit together.
“So where are you staying?” She asked with a wry smile as they made it to the top. “I'm working on the assumption that you aren't from around here.” She continued grinning as she repeated the same words he'd used then.
“Actually, my family has an estate here. I will be staying there for the foreseeable future.” He answered and he reluctantly released her hand.
“Planning on staying long?” She asked in what was hopefully a neutral tone.
“I suppose that's up to the citizens of Smallville.” He said with a wry smile of his own, “My father put me in charge of the local plant, as long as it does well I’ll stay.”
“Then I’ll have to put in a good word for you. I expect I will be seeing more of you then.” She said, hiding a smile behind her hair.
“I certainly hope so, Emma.” He almost whispered. She felt her heart flutter as he said her name softly, almost like a prayer.
“I guess I’ll see you around then, Lex.” She said as she turned towards Main Street.
She got half way across the bridge before glancing back at him. He stood rooted to the spot she left him, staring as she walked away. She smiled and waived, laughing to herself when he waived back. She smiled the whole way home, windows down, singing along loudly with the radio.
________________________________
Lex shook his head as she disappeared down the road. He briefly wondered if he was still unconscious. He replayed the events in his head, and it still hadn’t really sunk in.
He was headed from the flower shop, after ordering some plants for his new crypt/home. His phone rang and the next thing he knew, he was headed straight for Clark with no way to stop. He been looking the kid in the eyes as he hit the railing, hadn’t he?
The next few moments had been a blur of colors and pain. Then he was flying, free as a bird over Smallville. He would’ve stayed there, if an excruciating pain hadn’t ripped through him.
Then it was spitting water, confusion and then … her. He was sure he had died and, by some clerical error, he had gone to heaven. Because how else could he explain fnding his Angel again after so long. He had been so sure he'd never be this close to her, have her touch him gently again. He made a fool of himself but he decided that nearly dying warranted some irrational behavior.
Now, as he stood there staring after her, he started to panic. He almost broke into a run after her, until he caught sight of her honey blonde hair in the cab of a green ford. She waived sheepishly as she headed out of town. And in that moment he knew, he'd never let her go again. Now only one question remained, what do you get the person who saved your life twice?