Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a hot summer's day in Smallville, and that meant almost everyone in the town's population all had the same idea. 

Go swimming at Crater Lake. 

Clark moved his gaze away from the rapidly growing crowd, re-focusing on rubbing the last of sun tan lotion onto Lana's back. 

He brought his head up, however, when Lana said, "Think you missed a spot." 

His brows briefly furrowed, before he saw the teasing smile on Lana's face as she tapped her lips, and felt a lopsided one form on his own as he pressed his lips to hers. 

It felt so good to finally be with the girl of his dreams. 

The good feeling wasn't to last, unfortunately, instantly evaporating at the sound of what he'd came to know as the bane of his existence. 

"Well," Lois quipped, just how funny she found the situation clear in her voice. "I know what you did this summer." 

Gritting his teeth, Clark reluctantly pulled away from the very nice kiss he was having with Lana to look up into Lois's bright eyes. "Lois?" 

Her smug smile only widened at seeing how flustered he'd gotten, much to his annoyance. "Oh, don't look so guilty, Smallville," she said, wryly, standing shoulder to shoulder with Chloe. "It's about time the lovebirds flapped their wings." 

His irritation flaring, as well as embarrassment, Clark all but demanded, "What are you doing back?" 

He hated how easily she riled him up. Lois clearly enjoyed it, though. 

"Yeah," Lana chimed in with a laugh, "we thought you were in Europe til' the end of the year." 

"Hoping," Clark clarified, with a tight smile aimed in Lois's direction, his body stiff and awkward as it always was when she was around. 

Why did she have that effect on him? 

Despite his grumpiness, Lana smiled at Lois, her eyes darting between her and Chloe. "Will you stay with Chloe?" 

"Actually..." Lois replied, and Clark felt his eyes narrow. "I just ran into Mrs. Kent at the Talon. And right out of nowhere, she asked if I would like to move back in at the farm." 

Clark nearly rolled his eyes at that, holding back a laugh. Not in your dreams, he thought. "Yeah, right." 

But to his horror, Lois's smile only widened in that overly sweet way, and he felt his jaw almost drop. 

"Really?" Clark asked, incredulously. He was gonna have to have a talk with his mom. 

Lois shared a smile with her cousin, taking way too much glee from this than he liked. "I know, isn't that sweet?" 

She gestured to him and Lana, her eyes sweeping over them. "Oh, don't worry, you little snuggle bunnies can hop right on away. I'm a heavy sleeper. I'm gonna work on my tan." 

His jaw grounded tightly, Clark watched as Lois happily trounced her way over to an empty spot, stretching out in the sun. 

How she got under his skin... 

"Do you think," Clark bit out, turning to Chloe and Lana, "she could sleep through me smothering her with a pillow?" 

Chloe and Lana both smiled in amusement, both clearly finding it as funny as Lois, the latter patting his shoulder as she went with a small laugh. 

"Don't stay in the sun too long. You're gonna get baked." 

Of course, he wouldn't actually, but... Lana didn't exactly know that. 

And she couldn't. 

At that obvious sign, Chloe easily was able to figure out that Lana was yet to find out about his secret. 

"So..." she started, and Clark held back a sigh, shifting his gaze to hers from where he'd watched Lana go. "I take it Lana hasn't gotten to peep into the confidential files of Clark Kent yet." 

Clark turned his attention fully to her, trying his best to hold back his irritation. It wasn't that he was irritated with her, he was irritated and fed up with himself. 

How was he ever supposed to be with anybody if he couldn't tell them about his secret, the most important thing about him? 

It was a major roadblock, something you couldn't swerve around. No matter how much you wanted to. 

How was he supposed to live out his destiny? Alone? Was that what his biological parents had expected of him? 

Because he just didn't think he would be able to. 

"Chloe," Clark finally said, holding back a sigh. "You think I'm happy about having my powers back, and lying about them?" 

He dipped his head, his voice turning soft, almost bitter. "I didn't ask for this to happen." 

But Chloe's voice had him looking up to find her staring up at him unflinchingly, her voice matter-of-fact. "We didn't ask for a world that needs heroes... but the truth is we do. Now, more than ever, Clark." 

He didn't know what to say to that. It sounded like she had everything figured out a lot better than he did. 

Clark shook his head, running a hand through his hair with a long-held sigh. "I think I'll go for a dip," he murmured, squinting his eyes against the sun. "Maybe it'll help clear my head." 

It probably wouldn't, but it might at least be a bit relaxing. 

With a nod to Chloe, and a wave to Lana where she now sat beside Lois, he walked out to the dock. 

But even as he got closer to the water, the thoughts in his head were still going as fast as ever. 

Clark would have to find a way to tell Lana one day, he'd have to. He didn't know how yet... or when... but it was something he'd have to do if he wanted to be with her. 

And he did. More than anything. 

Clark sighed for the second time, slowly stepping onto the diving board, and without another moment's wait, plunged into the water. 

But instead of the ease of drifting through the water he'd expected, he found flashing pain bursting in his head as he impacted with something, green light illuminating the water. 

Clark felt himself sinking, his vision blurring as he stared at the large hunk of rock right below where he'd jumped, glowing bright green. 

In his confused mess of thoughts, he wondered why kryptonite would be down here of all places. 

But Clark didn't have time to figure it out. As quick as a flipped switch, everything went black. 

XXX 

Chloe sighed contentedly, stretched out beside Lana and Lois as they watched people go in and out of the lake. 

But... she soon began to realize, one person in particular hadn't came out for a very long time. 

"Oh my God," Chloe inhaled sharply, instantly alerting the attention of the girls beside her as she got to her feet. 

"What?" Lana asked, both her and Lois's wide eyes darting between Chloe and the lake. "What's wrong?" 

"He's been gone way too long," the blonde replied, anxiously staring out at the water. "Clark hasn't came up yet. Something's wrong." 

Her heart was hammering, her mind whirling as to why Clark hadn't resurfaced, as both Lana and Lois scrambled up, their eyes now scanning the water as well. 

"What do we-" Lana started to say, her voice anxious, before Lois pushed past them both, running towards the lake without another second's hesitation. 

"Out of the way, people!" her cousin shouted, causing more than just a ruckus as people jumped back. "Navy trained swimmer, here!" 

Chloe and Lana watched her go, pumping as hard as she could across the sand. The blonde with a smile, despite the worry gnawing at her, and the other with a doubtful gaze. 

"Can she really save Clark?" Lana asked her, never tearing her eyes from the water. "She can't possibly-" 

"Like she said," Chloe replied with a shrug, trying to tamp down her own alarm. "She's a navy trained swimmer." 

Just as she'd said the words, Lois dove into the water, disappearing into the depths just as Clark had. 

She didn't doubt for a second that her cousin could rescue Clark, she just wanted to know why anyone needed to. 

What could have happened down there to take down Krypton's fine and brightest? 

She was about to find out, Chloe thought with rising dread, gathering around as did everyone else as Lois soon emerged from the water, pulling along an unconscious Clark. 

Several guys came forward to take Clark's deadweight from her cousin, one in particular going so far as to grab Clark's arm.

But Lois shouted at all of them to stay back. "Navy trained, here!" she yelled, pushing back the guy holding Clark's arm. "Hey, buddy, I've got this!" 

If the blonde wasn't so worried about Clark, she was sure her lips would have quirked at how protective Lois was being over Clark, how she'd dove into that water like there was no tomorrow. 

She stowed that away to think over later, crashing to her knees beside Lana as Lois at last settled Clark's limp form out on the sand, his head lolling. 

Lana hovered over Chloe's shoulder anxiously, taking in Clark's firmly shut eyes. "Is he breathing?" she cried, tears brimming in her eyes. 

"He's about to be," Lois muttered, rolling her shoulders as she broke out of everyone's simultaneous stare-down, and gripping Clark's shoulders. 

Again, a guy came over to offer to help her, and Lois shot him an exasperated glare. "Do I really need to say it again?" 

Raising his hands, the guy stepped back, looking way too cocky for a guy wearing that bright of shorts.

Chloe couldn't help but give him her own look of exasperation. Did the guy just not know when to quit? 

However, her attention was swiftly brought back to where Lois kneeled over Clark's unmoving body. 

And felt her curiosity grow at how before she placed her hands on his chest, her cousin gently brushed back wet strands of black hair from his face, almost lovingly. 

Strange. 

Before giving anyone else the chance to ponder over this, Lois took a steadying breath. "Here we go," she whispered, then pressed her lips over Clark's, pumping his chest in time with the breaths. 

For a terrifying few moments, Chloe watched in anxious silence, squeezing Lana's hand, as Clark simply lay there, not moving a muscle. 

C'mon, the blonde thought, her heart pounding harder and harder as Clark kept not responding to Lois, you're stronger than this.

All the things he could do, the feats he could accomplish, and a little bit of water is what gets him? 

Chloe didn't believe it for a second. 

But then... who knows what happened down there? 

The thought didn't do anything for her nerves, and Lois didn't seem to be doing any better, though only to Chloe's eyes.

Being her cousin, and seeing her through more than a few trials, the blonde knew when Lois was scared. And she was right now. 

But then, with a loud gasp, Clark's eyes flew open. And with no small measure of obvious relief, Lois turned him over onto his side as he coughed up water, gulping for air. 

"All right there, Clark?" Lois asked, obviously trying for a joking tone, but Chloe could hear the hesitancy in her voice.

"L-Lois?" Clark wheezed, wet coughs still rattling his frame as she turned him back over, his hazy blue eyes taking in her face. "You-You saved..."

Chloe watched, feeling her lips continue to curl as they both stared at each other, as if both Clark and Lois herself couldn't believe she'd went to such lengths.

Then as Lois plastered on a teasing smile, putting their usual banter firmly back into place. "No thanks needed, Smallville."

Clark blinked, seemingly having a tough time gaining his bearings as he reached out a hand. "Y-Yeah, but... Lois-"

And reluctantly, Chloe noted, she watched as Lois relinquished her spot at Clark's side as Lana rushed over, standing to the side as the other girl carefully helped Clark to sit up.  

"Are you all right, Clark?" Lana asked, her eyes scanning his body as he clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Head... hurts..." he said in a daze, his brow furrowing.

Chloe brought her apprehensive gaze from Clark over to where Lois still stood, taking in how her cousin's face fell at his words, fear spiking in her eyes. 

"A-All right, folks!" Lois abruptly declared, waving people back, but unable to fully mask the worry in her eyes as she watched Clark. "Give him some room to breathe!" 

Slowly, the crowd started to dissipate with a few grumblings, that one guy who'd tried to help Lois being the last to finally move away. 

Chloe would have to keep her eye on him, and tell Clark about him... well, whenever she could. 

"He must have hit his head on something," Chloe murmured, while Lana gently pried his hand away from the back of his head, before pressing her own there. 

But hit it on what? 

"I did see a pretty big rock down there," Lois piped up, kneeling beside Chloe. "It was kind of... glowing green? I guess it was just the sunlight reflecting off of it." 

Of course! Chloe thought, how could she forget? Crater Lake was one of the most hit spots during the meteor shower, it made sense meteor rock would be down there. 

If only she'd remembered, she could have warned him... 

Guilt wormed its way into her heart as she stared at Clark, grimacing when Lana's hand came away bloody. 

"Should I call an ambulance?" Lois cried, already moving to grab her phone, before Chloe quickly grabbed her arm.

"No! No, wait!" the blonde exclaimed, ignoring how Lana and her cousin gawked at her. "Head wounds always bleed more, remember? He's okay, aren't you, Clark?" 

They all turned their gazes on Clark, the blonde inwardly praying that he wasn't that out of it. 

Thankfully, he blinked his eyes open, his confusion filled gaze somehow finding its way to Chloe's. She saw as the gears started to turn in his head before he understood at last, his eyes widening slightly. 

"Y-Yeah..." Clark stammered with a wince, starting to stagger to his feet. 

They all jumped up to steady him, but Chloe wasn't too necessary between Lana and Lois holding onto both of his arms. 

Clark was probably too focused on pushing past the pain to notice, but Chloe did with raised brows. 

"I-I'm okay," he stammered, managing to pull away from them, albeit shakily. "I've had worse hits on the head." 

He attempted a smile, helped by the alertness slowly coming back into his eyes, not looking quite as dulled as before.

"Okay..." Lana finally said after a tense moment, studying him closely, and Chloe felt her shoulders drop. "But I'm driving you home." 

Clark started to shake his head, then quickly learned his lesson as he let out a hiss, his eyes briefly screwing shut. "B-Bad idea..." he mumbled, then gestured forward, tiredly, "let's go."

Without another word, he let Lana guide him along, her worried gaze resting on him, and her hand on his back, but stopped when Clark abruptly faced Lois.

"I-I just wanted to..." Clark said, his old, shy smile returning to its place on his face like it always had as long as Chloe had known him, even as it looked like he was bracing himself. "To say thank you, Lois. For saving me. You didn't have to."

And in one of her rare moments, Lois seemed to not know what to say for once. She simply stared at him, wide-eyed, as Clark then turned to resume on his way with Lana.

Lois stood beside her, watching them go. "Hey, Smallville!" her cousin called, and Clark stopped, turning back to look at her, Lana doing the same. "Stick to doggy-paddling in the future, okay?" 

Huffing a laugh, Clark turned back with a slight roll of his eyes, he and Lana continuing on their way. 

The two cousins watched until the couple had faded into the distance, then Chloe turned to Lois with a wry smile. "You weren't... worried about Clark, were you?" 

Lois whipped her head around, stunned at the blonde's amused expression. "N-No!" she insisted, looking affronted. "I-I was just..." 

"Just..." Chloe encouraged, her smile widening. 

"Just mad that the jerk scared Lana so much!" her cousin exclaimed, at last, wrapping her arms around herself stubbornly. "I'll... really let him have it next time I see him." 

Chloe shook her head, making an unimpressed face at that, looping her arm through her cousin's as they began to walk. "Sure, you will, Lois." 

Maybe Lois felt a little different about Smallville's favorite flannel king than she'd thought. 

Chapter Text

Chloe made her way down the hall, which was strangely more empty than usual. 

Most of the time, she had to squeeze past five people just to get to her locker, but today... it was a ghost town. 

Something must be going on outside, she guessed, some fist fight between two jocks over a girl or something equally as stupid. 

But it didn't matter, right now she had a deadline, she reminded herself, adjusting her purse strap over her shoulder. 

If she didn't get it done today, Principal Kwan would murder her. 

Chloe was just about to step inside the Torch, when the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor filled the air, followed by a guy's eager voice, "Hey! Eric Summers just threw Kent onto a car!" 

The blonde whirled around, her eyes wide as saucers, and all thoughts of a deadline gone from her mind. "What!?" 

"Yeah!" the guy told her and the few other classmates in the hall, looking way too excited for what he was saying. "Somebody just called the ambulance!" 

Without wasting another minute, Chloe shot forward, pushing past people in her haste to get outside. 

Oh my God, oh my God, she thought over and over, her heart racing a million miles an hour. 

Threw him onto a car? Clark? 

Beating up Clark Kent was like kicking a puppy, you couldn't imagine hurting something so bright eyed and happy. 

Eric Summers just became Smallville's own villain, and definitely not the hero she'd thought he was. 

And after hearing what just happened, everyone else probably just came to that same conclusion, as well. 

Chloe rushed outside the same time as Lana and Pete, the three of them all bearing equally baffled gazes.

"Hey! Over here!" the sound of Whitney's voice had them all whipping around, a gasp escaping Lana at seeing an unconscious Clark propped up against Whitney, blood running from his temple.

"I think he's coming around," Whitney murmured as they all crouched next to him, and Chloe let her eyes wander over Clark's pale face. 

She'd always loved how his face was shaped, soft in the shy way he smiled, yet sharp when he thought one of them might be in trouble. 

The blonde reached out to touch it, brushing his hair back from his face gently, but reared back when he shifted, his eyes flickering with a moan. 

Chloe fidgeted, fighting the urge to flush as Lana glanced at her with raised brows.

"What... what..." Clark mumbled, pressing a hand to his head, and staring confusedly at his hand when it came away slick with blood. 

"Eric threw you onto a car," Lana piped up, her eyes now abandoning the curious look she'd had with Chloe for concern. "The ambulance is coming." 

That had Clark coming out of his stupor, his eyes flying wide as he bolted up, startling them all. Only for him to immediately fall back against Whitney with a strained cry, his eyes squeezing shut. 

"A-Ambulance?" Clark gasped out, still alarmed as he clutched his side, his blue eyes wide. "I-I can't-" 

"Just calm down, man," Pete said, hands out in case Clark tried to sit up again. "It looks like Eric hurt you pretty bad-" 

"Pete, no," Clark insisted, still just as distressed as ever much to Chloe's confusion. "I-I can't go to the hospital." 

"Look, Clark-" Whitney started, but Lana quickly jumped in, her features soft with sympathy. "I'm sure your parents will find a way to pay for it." 

Oh. 

In all the excitement, Chloe had completely forgotten the Kent's financial struggles, it having flown right over her head. 

It must be bad if Clark's freaking out this much... 

Clark immediately stiffened at Lana's words, studying all of them uncertainly as he pressed himself against the sidewalk, his hand still clutching his side. 

"They can't run any tests," he said, cautiously, and Chloe felt her heart drop, knowing how embarrassed he must feel. 

"No, no," the blonde quickly assured him, putting a bright smile on, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness. "They'll probably just run some x-rays, possibly." 

Clark looked at all of them, as if gauging their reactions, and even Whitney put on a reassuring smile as he nodded. 

It seemed to calm Clark down a little, his eyes not quite so wide, but in doing so brought his focus back onto the pain as he hissed suddenly, his hold tightening on his side. 

"Do you think anything's broken?" Lana asked, daring to reach out and touch Clark's side gently, and even that was enough for him to draw in a quick inhale. 

"I-I don't know," Clark managed to get out, screwing his eyes shut. 

But Chloe's gaze drifted down, and she was guessing by the sight of him squeezing his fist so tightly that his knuckles showed white that it was pretty bad. 

Lana must have saw it too, because her gaze shot to Clark's, eyes wide and alarmed. "Clark, can you show us your side?" 

His eyes flickered open, his blue eyes clouded over with such pain that it made an ache form in Chloe's chest. 

She never liked seeing anyone in pain, but especially not Clark. 

Slowly, his hand shaking, Clark pulled his shirt up, and Chloe knew she saw all of them stiffen at what they saw. 

A huge black and purple bruise had formed on Clark's side across his ribs, and she could only imagine how painful it felt just by going by how it looked. 

Lana pressed a finger on it, her touch feather light, but it made Clark flinch, a shudder going through him as he quickly let his shirt fall back. 

"Oh, Clark..." Lana whispered, and Chloe's gaze darted in between the other girl and Clark, and... also Whitney's, she noticed. 

Just before the tension could reach its final crescendo, the sound of the ambulance's alarms blaring filled Chloe's ears. 

Saved by the bell, she thought, or rather... the alarm. 

They all stood, stepping back as the paramedics rushed over to help Clark to his feet, slinging his arms over their shoulders when he cried out. 

Chloe's heart stung to hear the sound, wishing she could do something to help him, but knew to stay out of the way as they guided him to the ambulance. 

"We'll see you later, Clark!" Lana called out, with Pete chiming in, "Feel better soon, man!" 

"Don't worry, we'll find where Eric is!" Chloe added in, and Clark waved back at them, slowly climbing into the ambulance. 

Then the doors were closing, the ambulance driving off, but Chloe's gaze didn't leave it until it had sped down the highway. 

And neither did Lana's, she noted, glancing at the other girl who stood beside Whitney, her features twisted in concern. 

Lana caught her staring and flushed, fidgeting with her hands as they all started back towards the school. 

But Chloe had seen the emotion in her eyes... the clear sign of more than just friendship, just as Lana had seen hers. 

Before she'd left, her mom had always said the eyes were the windows to the soul. 

Chloe supposed that was true. 

Chapter Text

"I'll bring you out some lemonade, okay?" his mom called after him as Clark made his way out the door, heading to work on the tractor.

"Okay, mom, thanks!" 

As old as it was, it was really no surprise that the rusty old thing kept tearing up. Clark was happy to work on it, of course, but he really couldn't see why his dad didn't just buy a new one. 

Shrugging, Clark set to work, his mind immediately starting to wander, much to his annoyance, to Chloe again. 

It wasn't that he didn't understand why she was curious about his biological parents, he was, but he wasn't some case to be figured out for the Wall of Weird. 

He'd always tried his best not to think on it too much. On why his parents abandoned him, if they were still alive... what it was that made them look at him and decide they didn't want him. 

Was there something wrong with him? Was he not gonna fit in wherever he was from? Or was he just... not good enough? 

Clark didn't like to voice these thoughts to his parents. Mainly because he wasn't sure if they'd tell him the truth, or just keep from saying what they really thought so they wouldn't hurt his feelings. 

And for Chloe to dredge all that up, it made it hard for him to shove all those questions down again. 

He just wished there was a way to know. 

But... Clark supposed they never would, nobody- 

"Lucas?" 

His train of thought broke off instantly at the sound of that woman's voice, and he whirled around to find it to be none other than Rachel Dunleavy. 

Maybe it was with everything happening with Chloe that left his nerves feeling so raw, but this woman was really starting to irritate him. 

"Miss Dunleavy-" Clark started to say, to try to finally put this woman in her place, but didn't even get the words out before she suddenly jabbed him in the neck, pain shooting through him. 

Clark immediately crashed to his knees, choked gasps leaving him as he grappled to yank out the syringe, and found bright green liquid inside it. 

Meteor rocks. 

"I'm sorry, Lucas," the woman said, looking anything but apologetic as he sprawled out on the ground, his vision turning fuzzy. 

"But I had to do this." 

Clark could just barely make out Miss Dunleavy's face, smiling down at him, and the urge to scream he wasn't her son filled him but he couldn't find the strength to speak, much less move. 

His vision was blurring more and more, darkness creeping at the edges as waves of pain shot through him, and the last thing he heard was his actual mother yelling his name, "Clark!" 

XXX 

Martha gathered the tray she'd set up in her hands, easily balancing the glass of lemonade she'd got for Clark and the sandwich she'd decided to make for him. 

She knew the last few days had been hard on him, probably more than she could imagine, but she hoped that maybe they could talk when she got outside. 

Any talk of his biological parents made her clam up inside, the fear that he'd decide to leave them always gripping her. 

But for Clark... she didn't want to think about how much her son was likely hurting right then, and it wasn't something you could put a bandaid on and let heal. 

For whatever reason that Martha couldn't possibly fathom, his biological parents had decided to give him up and send him to Earth, and it was killing Clark not knowing why. 

He tried to hide it, to hide all the questions and uncertainties running around in his mind, but a mother could always tell. 

She tried to put on a cheery smile, stepping out the door, but it wasn't a second before the tray was falling from her hands onto the porch, and she was running forward. 

"Clark! What are you doing?" Martha yelled, rushing as fast as she could across the yard over to where Miss Dunleavy was currently dragging Clark's unconscious form to her car. 

"What the hell are you doing with my son?" she demanded, yanking the other woman away from the car. 

Now, Martha Kent wasn't one to curse, but when it came to her son... and especially concerning this infuriating woman, she didn't have a problem. 

Clark slumped to the ground, and Martha's gaze darted to him, the urge to scoop him up screaming at her to do so, but she had to deal with this woman. 

"He's my son," Miss Dunleavy replied, making her blood boil, "and I'm taking him home." 

The other woman turned to pick up Clark again, and Martha grabbed her by the shoulders, intent on fighting tooth and nail if that's what it took. 

But Miss Dunleavy had apparently came prepared, swinging around and smashing the butt of a gun against Martha's head, knocking her off her feet. 

It left the world spinning around her, pain blooming in her head, and Martha was forced to watch as Miss Dunleavy dragged Clark into her car, and sped away with her son. 

"No!" Martha screamed, struggling to get to her feet. 

Thankfully, the other woman hadn't managed to hit her hard enough to knock her out, so Martha was able to stagger back to the house. 

That woman had taken her son, her son, and she was going to get him back. 

No force from outside this planet was going to take their son away from them, and neither was Miss Dunleavy. 

Through her foggy vision, Martha fumbled around for the phone, quickly pressing it to her ear. 

"911, what's your emergency?" 

"Y-Yes," Martha stammered, trying her best to pull it together. "I'd like to report a kidnapping. Rachel Dunleavy has taken my son." 

XXX 

Clark woke up slowly, the feeling of pain instantly assaulting his senses. 

It felt like his head was about to split open, pounding pain resounding inside his head over and over, his stomach left in knots. 

A groan left him as his eyes flickered open, the next sensation coming to him as the fact that he was currently tied up, strapped to a chair. 

Normally, it wouldn't have even been a problem. But after whatever serum that woman had injected him with, it left him unable to lift a finger. 

Clark was usually the one rescuing people in these situations, but to be the one actually needing rescued... it made fear twist inside his stomach along with the nausea that nobody was going to come. 

What if his parents left him here? Let this woman take him away? 

Maybe it'd be a relief, to not have to deal with protecting his secret anymore, maybe they'd been secretly hoping something like this would happen. 

What was he thinking? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, feebly trying to move against his restraints, attempting to clear his thoughts. 

It was like he couldn't focus... his mind a confused blur of thoughts, swirling around his head. 

Man, he was dizzy... 

"No, no, no..." Rachel Dunleavy's voice suddenly filled his ears, and he flicked his gaze up to find her wiping at his face. 

Clark tried to yank away as much as possible, but it wasn't much from his restrained position. "W-Where am I?" 

"You're at my house," Rachel said soothingly, and he ran his gaze around the room. "Do you like it? I've been trying to fix it up for you with Lionel's money." 

Clark could barely get his thoughts straight, trying to find a nearby exit. The door wasn't too far, but... how would he reach it? 

Especially since he was about as weak as a newborn foal. He tried to twist in the chair as Rachel walked away from him, admiring the room, attempting to clear his vision. 

"I-I know this must be hard," he murmured, blinking groggily, "but I'm not your-" 

"Oh, stop saying that!" Rachel abruptly snapped, startling him slightly as she whirled around, tears forming in her eyes. "You are, you are! Those Kent's have just been feeding you lies! Martha Kent getting to bake all the birthday cakes, getting to dry your tears..." 

If it was in different circumstances, Clark would have felt bad for the woman, and couldn't help still feeling bad for her right then. 

She wanted her son so badly, but... Clark just wasn't it. 

"So, you kidnap me?" he replied, torn between being angry and pitying her. "Because I've gotta tell you, I don't feel very comfortable tied up." 

Like the difference between day and night, Rachel went to turning soft again, cooing, "I'm so sorry, honey, but I had to!" 

Pulling away as much as he could as she went to petting his head again, he eyed her, forcing himself to focus even as his vision spun. 

"Why?" 

She pointed to the TV, and Clark realized with a start that Lionel Luthor was on, looking to be holding a press conference. "Because, Lucas, either Lionel tells the truth, that you are my son, or... I kill you." 

Clark blanched at that, feeling the color drain from his face as his eyes flared wide. "What!?" 

"I'm sorry, precious," Rachel soothed, petting his hair as she smiled down at him. "But if I can't have you, nobody can." 

Clark tried to process her words, her plan. Even if he actually was her son, she was gonna kill him? It didn't make any sense.

Nothing was making sense, and it was getting harder to think as the minutes dragged on. 

If nobody was coming to save him... 

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming on such short notice..." Lionel's voice cut through some of the fog in Clark's mind. "I, um, I have an important announcement to make that concerns a special family. Clark Kent has been kidnapped, a very good friend of my son's... and a special boy. I want to say to his abductor... I will never give in to your demands." 

Clark could feel his eyes getting heavy, his attention starting to drift, but he darted his gaze over to Rachel, and felt his heart start to pound. 

"No! Wha... no!" Rachel screamed at the screen, "No! No!" 

She started beating on the TV, and Clark jumped, trying to wrestle with his restraints as Lionel kept talking. 

"If you harm him in any way, I will not rest until you are hunted down and locked away. This time, forever." 

Rachel kept screaming, and Clark tried his best to get free, but his energy was barely there to start with, and it was fading fast.

He slumped back against the chair, gulping in breaths of air, as the room tilted, bile rising in his throat. 

He had to get free, to get out, but... he was so tired. 

Lionel's voice dully rang in his ears, "It has always been the policy in my company and my family never to negotiate with kidnappers, terrorists..." 

Clark blinked sluggishly, feeling the fight leaving his body, but managed to catch the sight of Miss Dunleavy coming back into the room holding an axe in the corner of his vision. 

"W-What are you..." he slurred, his instincts telling him to try and escape, but his body unable to do a thing. "P-Please, no-" 

She brought the axe up over her head, and Clark could feel his breathing quicken, his heart hammering in his chest. 

"Lionel just killed you, Lucas," Rachel said simply, then brought the axe down. 

And somehow, a small spark of adrenaline shot through Clark enough that he managed to give his feet a yank, ripping the tape loose enough for him to kick the woman in the midsection, sending her flying across the room. 

But in doing so, Clark could do nothing to stop his backward momentum, his chair tipping back.

His hands bound, he felt the chair fall, his head slamming into the floor, and could just barely make out the sound of police sirens in the distance before everything went dark. 

XXX 

"Clark, baby? Can you hear me?" 

Clark groaned, cracking his eyes open to find the faces of his mom and dad leaning over him. 

"Are you with us, son?" his dad asked, his features slowly coming into focus as Clark blinked. 

"What-What happened..." he mumbled, bringing his hand up as he felt something run down his lip. 

He squinted, his vision not quite cleared as he found green liquid on his fingers, more running down his lip. 

"It's been doing that awhile," his mom explained with a nervous smile, reaching forward to wipe his fingers then his nose with a kleenex. "How do you feel, sweetie?" 

Clark let his head fall back against the couch cushions, memories of what had happened creeping back into his mind. 

Being kidnapped, almost killed... 

His head wasn't hurting as much anymore, just a dull ache lingering, and the strange dizziness that had gripped him finally dissipated. 

"Better," Clark murmured, bringing his gaze back up to find both his parents looking down at him oddly, their features creased. 

Alarm shot through him, and he tried to sit up, only to be hurriedly pushed back down by his dad. "Don't try to get up, son. You need your rest."

Despite his dad's words, it did nothing to calm Clark's anxiety.

"Is-Is something wrong?" he asked, his wide eyes darting between them. 

"Rachel's been admitted to a private psychiatric clinic," his mom said, smiling sadly. "So, she won't be bothering us anymore." 

Clark slowly nodded, briefly dipping his head. "I-I know she kidnapped me, but..." he lifted his head back up, meeting his parent's eyes earnestly. "I can't help but feel sorry for her." 

His parents weren't surprised by his admission though, nodding. "I can't even imagine what it must've been like having to give up that baby." 

"I'm just glad our family is still in one piece," his mom chimed in, her voice filled with relief. 

His dad smiled slightly, and Clark looked curiously in between his parents as his dad said, "Not even Lionel Luthor could tear us apart." 

His dad must've noticed the curiosity on Clark's face as the smile fell from his, his features turning sad. 

He started to walk away, but Clark sat up, even as his mom tried to push him back down. "But Lionel helped us, dad," he called after him, "not just then, but today, too. Why do you hate him so much?" 

He had to know. He was tired of another unknown mystery hanging over his head, and at least he could find out the answers to this one. 

At first, his dad didn't seem like he was gonna tell him, shaking his head, but then his mom shot him a look that Clark couldn't quite place. 

He looked back and forth between them, hoping he was finally going to get some answers. 

And finally, his dad started the story. 

Clark listened, and by the end of it, he wished he hadn't asked. "So, you did it," he said softly, his head dipped. "You convinced the Rosses to sell." 

His dad's voice was full of regret and self-loathing, a tone Clark recognized as one he used a lot himself as he replied, "I helped the Luthors get a foothold in this community. The smokestacks, the toxic dumping, all the people who were cheated, including Pete's family. None of that would've happened if it weren't for me." 

No, Clark thought, it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me. The meteor shower, all the damage, Lana's parents dying, and now this... 

"Dad, you couldn't have known," Clark said sympathetically, because no one needed to take on the blame but him. 

"No, I should've known, Clark," his dad responded almost angrily, but he knew it wasn't towards him. "I knew exactly what kind of man Lionel Luthor was." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Clark asked, lifting his head at last, though he already knew the answer. 

And his dad confirmed it. "Because I knew you would do exactly what you're doing right now, which is blame yourself." 

His dad could read him like a book, Clark thought, turning his gaze away. 

"You were trying to protect me," he said, sadly, and tried to ignore the way his parents' faces fell. "It is my fault." 

But his dad responded firmly, his voice taking on that no argument tone whenever he was trying to teach Clark a lesson. "No, you never believe that. This was my decision. This was my fault." 

Clark caught his dad's gaze going from him to his mom before he went out the door, "Mine alone." 

Clark watched along with his mom as his dad went down the steps, his shoulders heavy. 

"You're both too much alike, Clark," his mom said softly, bringing his attention to her as she squeezed his shoulder gently. "You both take the weight of the world on your shoulders." 

Clark sighed, his gaze returning the way his dad had went, knowing she was right. 

And as he often thought more lately, with the unknown purpose of his destiny, he wondered if he'd be able to save it, too. 

Chapter Text

"Okay, so, uh, what are we doing out here?" 

Clark glanced at Lana, moving forward with his flashlight along with Chloe. "We think that since Mr. Beales and my dad have the same symptoms, and this is the only place they were together, something must be down here." 

He couldn't completely keep his voice from breaking at the end, and flushed slightly when both girls sent him a sympathetic glance. 

"Don't worry, Clark," Lana said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder as he dipped his head. "Your dad will be all right." 

Clark swallowed past the lump in his throat, sensing rather than seeing the glance Chloe and Lana exchanged. 

"O-Okay," he sniffled, putting on as good of a smile as he could manage as he went further in the woods, Chloe and Lana following him. "Um... um, maybe we should-" 

"Clark," Chloe interjected, coming in front of him to grip his shoulder, her gaze insistent but understanding. "We know you're having a hard time, you don't have to pretend to be okay." 

Clark glanced at her, then at Lana, her gaze equally as understanding, and couldn't stop it as a tear suddenly rolled down his cheek, then another. 

"Um..." he wiped at his eyes, trying his best to calm his breathing before he broke down completely. 

"Why don't we split up?" Lana offered, and Clark looked up, knowing she was saying that to give him a moment alone. "We might find something faster." 

He jerked a nod, swiping at his eyes again as Chloe gave him one last pat to the shoulder, giving him a smile. 

Clark watched them go, then turned to make his way through the woods, struggling not to let any more tears escape. 

If his dad didn't get better... 

What would he and his mom do? Clark couldn't imagine working the farm without his dad, or navigating his powers without him. 

That was why they had to find something. 

He spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of yellow on the ground and shot towards it. 

Except when he picked it up, he found a hula girl staring up at him. 

Clark made a face, tossing it back to the ground, but whipped his head around when a flower suddenly raised up. 

He leaned in closer, studying it. What was... 

Clark jumped, squeezing his eyes shut as it abruptly sprayed him in the face. 

"What you got?" 

Clark whirled around at the sound of Chloe's voice, and gave her a sheepish smile as he held up the hula girl. "Sorry." 

"That's all right," Chloe said, gesturing him to follow her and Lana. "Let's get out of here. This place is a dead end." 

Clark sighed, trudging on behind her as Lana came up beside him, flashing him a sad smile. "Sorry, Clark." 

He shook his head, determined that this wouldn't be a dead end to finding answers. "It's okay, we'll-" 

He broke himself off as a sneeze tore through him, and Lana laughed, squeezing his shoulder as he blinked. "Bless you." 

Clark shook himself slightly, his brow furrowing. He never sneezed, but... maybe it was just a glitch in his powers? 

Just a fluke, he decided, sliding into the car after Lana, even after he sneezed again. 

Yeah... definitely just a fluke. 

XXX 

Lana shut her locker, adjusting her books in her hands. 

It was a beautiful day in Smallville, but... not for some people. People like Clark. 

He'd looked so upset the night before, something her and Chloe had discussed when they split up. 

They'd talked about just how tough it must be for him, especially having such great parents, and now to risk losing one of them... 

It was no wonder he was so upset. But that had always been Clark, as long as she'd known him as the boy next door. 

So sweet and shy. More shy than she'd ever seen a boy, years having passed where Clark could barely walk up to her without tripping. 

But that was Clark Kent, someone a little out of this world by that pure innocence he was always carrying around. 

She'd never known anybody like him, and she doubted she ever would. 

Lana smiled when she saw a flash of black hair, seeing Clark making his way down the hall, but took a double-take at the sight before her. 

There was shy and sweet Clark Kent, without his usual flannel and now donning a black leather jacket. 

But... though it was undeniably bizarre, she couldn't deny that he looked good, really good. 

"Clark," she said when he approached her, grinning at her. "What are you-" 

"Let's not waste time talking, Lana," Clark replied, and she stared at him as he came closer, backing her up against the locker. "Let's focus on something more physical..." 

"Hey!" the sound of Whitney's voice broke Lana out of the trance she'd been in with Clark. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Kent?" 

Clark only grinned wider at him, darting forward, but Lana got in between them, whispering to Whitney, "It's not Clark's fault, Whitney, something's... something's wrong with him." 

"Yeah," Whitney responded, glaring at where Clark stood. "Something." 

Lana nearly rolled her eyes, huffing out a breath. "Whitney! You know that-" 

She broke off when she felt Clark suddenly slip away from her, sauntering down the hall. "Come meet me at the Talon, Lana!" he called, turning briefly, before continuing on his way. 

She could only gawk after Clark for a moment before Whitney's growl had her whipping her gaze toward him. 

"You stay away from Kent, Lana," he told her. 

"Whitney-" she started to say, but he turned away from her, storming off. 

What a day this has turned into, she thought. 

XXX 

"So, he just made his move on you? Just like that?" 

Lana shrugged, standing from where she'd been leaning against Chloe's desk. "It was completely bizarre. I mean..." 

Chloe raised her brows, and Lana flushed, turning her head away. "It was weird. I've never seen Clark not be all clumsy, and..." 

"Shy? Stupidly head over heels in puppy love?" Chloe supplied, and Lana's flush deepened. 

She glanced back at the other girl as Chloe leaned back in her chair, a look on her face that Lana couldn't quite decipher. 

"Well, I mean, we all have different sides to ourselves," the blonde shrugged, "even Smallville's own Clark Kent." 

"It wasn't like that," Lana insisted, unable to shake the feeling of tension that had risen inside her. Was Chloe... jealous? 

She turned the thought away, focusing on what was at hand. Clark. 

"Well," Chloe responded, looking up from fiddling with a pencil to give her a teasing grin. "What do you think made Clark turn ultimate bad boy?" 

Lana crossed her arms, slowly pacing around the room. "First his dad, now Clark..." 

Chloe pointed her pencil at her, cutting her off. "Yeah, and don't forget about that Beales guy. Remember the one that Mr. Kent helped?" 

"We must have missed something at the accident site," Lana reasoned, throwing an exasperated hand in the air. "That's the only connection." 

Chloe scooted back in her chair, "No, we didn't. We were both there, and we're fine." 

She sighed, "It just doesn't make any sense."

Lana was stumped. 

She shot forward, however, when Chloe piped up, "Wait. Looks like we weren't the only ones out there." 

Lana came up behind the blonde, peering behind her shoulder at the image on the computer screen. 

"Who's that?" 

"I think it's Dr. Hamilton," Chloe replied, zooming in, and she felt her brows furrow. "The meteor freak?" 

"Yeah." 

Lana leaned in closer, "What would he be doing out in the woods?" 

"I don't know," Chloe responded, and Lana stepped back as she stood from her chair. "But I have a feeling it's not just a coincidence. I'm gonna go talk to him." 

Lana nodded, letting her arms fall to her sides as she mentally braced herself. "I'm gonna go talk to Clark. I think whatever happened to his dad is about to happen to him." 

XXX 

Clark tapped his foot, his patience running thinner by the minute. Where was Lana?

He'd told her to meet him here at the Talon, so where was she? 

A waitress walked by him, and he grabbed her arm, halting her in place. "You know where Lana is?" 

The waitress huffed, and he let go as she rolled her eyes. "If only I knew. We need her to run the Talon." 

Clark gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning the doors. If she doesn't come in the next five minutes- 

"Clark?" Lex's voice had him whipping around, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the man. "Is something wrong? You seem a bit-" 

"On edge?" Clark bit out, throwing off the hand Lex put on his arm.

He stalked closer to the man, pinning a finger at his chest. "You know where Lana is, don't you? She's why you bought this place." 

Lex stared at him, utterly taken aback. "Clark, what are you-" 

"C'mon, Lex!" Clark shouted, now shoving the man back, and causing some people to startle out of their seats. "Tell me! The Luthors are famous for their ulterior motives. So, tell me." 

He was mere inches from Lex's face now, taking in his shocked features, and he could swear the man looked caught out, as if he- 

Lex calmly removed his hands from his chest, taking a slow step back, his features perfectly set into place once again. "I'm not sure what this is, but this isn't you, Clark. Are you feeling okay?" 

"Actually, no," Clark replied, eyeing Lex. "I can't find Lana, and the person who I think knows where she is won't tell me!" 

"Clark, where have you been in the last 24 hours?" Lex asked, still so very calm, and it drove Clark crazy. 

"None of your business," Clark spat, "what's your problem, huh?" 

"This isn't you," Lex said, and Clark rounded on him. "Why? Because I'm not fumbling around trying to save everybody? Because I'm not being the polite farm boy?" 

Clark edged closer to him, his voice growing louder and more angry with each word. "For once, I'm thinking about me, what I want, and you can't seem to take it!" 

Spotting a nearby glass, Clark grabbed it and threw it at Lex, before taking the man's keys and running out the door. 

Now, this was going to be fun. 

Clark jumped into Lex's car, speeding off, and ignoring the sound of Lana yelling out his name. 

If she wanted to join in, she'd just have to find a way to tag along.

XXX 

Lana drove after Clark, probably going way past the speed limit as she chased after him, eventually coming to a stop at Chandler's Field. 

"Clark!" Lana yelled, jumping out of her car to run over to him. "What's going on? Does Lex know you have his car?" 

"He should by now," Clark drawled, brushing past her towards the windmill. 

Lana watched him go, panic filling her more and more every second. "Something's happened to you, Clark, we need to figure out what it is." 

"What it is?" Clark demanded, his blue eyes flashing. "That I'm not a shy idiot anymore that can barely say two words to you?" 

"No," Lana insisted, tears gathering in her eyes as she dared to step forward. "No, Clark, that..." she closed her eyes, forcing herself to continue even as her heart hammered. "That's one of the best parts about you." 

To her dismay, Clark only scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I see how you look at me, Lana, the longing in your eyes. The old me wouldn't have the guts to even say this, but here's your chance!" 

He spread his arms, looking at her eagerly, but Lana couldn't make herself move. 

She... she liked Clark a lot, he gave her comfort like nobody else did, always looking out for her like her own guardian angel. 

But she couldn't be with him like this, and... not now. 

"Clark, you're sick," she said instead, and Clark dropped his arms, turning away even as she went on desperately, "We need to get you to a hospital!" 

Clark faced her suddenly, and she went still. "Just say it, Lana. Do you love me?" 

Her breathing was loud and hard in her ears, her hands shaking. Did she? 

"Clark..." 

Clark shook his head in annoyance, moving towards the windmill. "If you so want to be the girl no one expects you to be, you're gonna have to say it, Lana," he said over his shoulder, then started climbing. "Now, come up here with me! You said you'd always wanted to!" 

"Clark, stop!" Lana yelled, rushing over, helplessly watching on as he continued to climb. 

Oh my God... 

"What's the matter, Lana?" Clark taunted, "Too scared now that you're here?" 

"What are you doing?" Lana shouted, "Come down, please!" 

Clark was already a third of the way up, but Lana was fearing that it was too late for him to come down, now. 

That the only way he was gonna come down was by falling... 

"Clark, please!" she screamed. 

Then to her horror, Clark stopped, looking around in seemingly a daze, then he lost his grip. 

Then he started to fall. 

"Clark!" Lana yelled, screaming as his limp form continued to fall towards the ground. 

She wasn't strong enough to catch him, or even try unless she wanted to land them both in the hospital. 

So, Lana was forced to watch, jumping back as Clark fell to the ground, his body landing with a heart-stopping thump. 

"Oh my God," Lana whispered, sobs building in her throat as she turned him over, scared to death of what she'd find. 

Somehow, Clark was still alive and breathing, his blue eyes dull as he gazed up at her. "Lana..." 

"Clark-" Lana started, her hand having found its way to his hair, petting it back as a jolt of terror shot through her when his eyes fell closed, his head lolling. 

"Clark!" 

XXX 

Lana followed behind the gurney as Clark got wheeled into the hospital, her hands tightly clasped in front of her. 

She hadn't been able to stop shaking since he'd fell, the image of him falling replaying in her mind ever since. 

If that fall had killed him... 

She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks, managing to catch one last sight of Clark's soft black hair before it disappeared. 

"Lana? W-Was that Clark I just saw?" 

Lana whirled around, finding the alarmed face of Martha Kent staring back at her, and instantly the tears began to flow. 

"Mrs. Kent, I-I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "I don't know what happened. C-Clark had the same symptoms as Mr. Kent, and-" 

"Oh my God," Martha gasped, pushing past her into Clark's room, and Lana didn't make a move to stop her. 

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, sobs tearing through her. She knew Mrs. Kent likely blamed her for letting this happen to her son, and she didn't blame her. 

She should have taken Clark to the hospital that morning at school, but she hadn't. She'd panicked, and now... 

Now, Clark might die. 

XXX 

Rather than sitting at her husband's bedside, Martha found herself sitting at her son's, clutching his limp hand in hers gently. 

Whatever had infected him must have neutralized his powers, because against what Martha had feared, the doctors had made no mention of finding anything unusual. 

It was testament to the hopelessness of the situation, because even though she'd watched the doctors like a hawk, they'd simply left Clark to lay there in his coma, not trying to run any tests.

Because there was no point. Either, the cure was found or... she lost her son and husband. 

Martha pressed down on the sob forming in her chest, bowing her head. Why, why? 

She had the family she'd always dreamed of, and now... now, she may lose them. 

"Mrs. Kent?" 

Martha turned in her seat, wiping at her eyes with one hand while not letting go of Clark's, to see Lana standing timidly in the doorway. 

"May I come in?" the girl asked her, her eyes flicking worriedly over to Clark. 

Martha smiled slightly to see the concern in Lana's eyes for Clark, nodding. Even though he doubted it at times, Lana truly loved her boy. 

She just wished Clark could see it right then. 

Lana slowly came forward, and Martha watched as she stared down at Clark's unmoving form, at the breaths softly moving his chest up and down.

"You know..." Martha started, and Lana peered back at her as a melancholy smile formed on her face. "When Clark was a little boy, he wanted so bad to drive the tractor like his dad. So, one day Jonathan let him up for a test drive..." 

Lana was facing her fully now, tears welling in her eyes, and Martha knew tears were equally gathering in hers.

"But he pressed too hard on the pedal, cause he was so excited," Martha laughed, and Lana laughed with her as she continued, "and neither of them had realized quick enough that a calf had gotten into the field." 

Tears started to roll down Martha's cheeks, her hold tightening on Clark's hand as her voice shook. "Jonathan tried to stop him, but the tractor was going too fast, and... Clark ran over the calf. 

And before Jonathan could say a thing, Clark jumped down from that tractor and came running to the house. Straight to me. And he sobbed and sobbed for hours even though we told him it wasn't his fault." 

Martha stood up, reaching down to caress Clark's cheek, looking down on his pale, sweat-slicked face. "And I knew right then how big of a heart Clark had, that I've never seen someone who cared so much. I knew right then how special he was, and... how proud I was to have him as my son." 

She was forced to stop, her sobs overtaking her, and hugged back when Lana wrapped her arms around her, sobs wracking both their frames. 

"E-Everyone can see how special your son is," Lana told her once they'd pulled apart, her voice a shaky whisper. "I'm so sorry this happened, Mrs. Kent, I-" 

"Lana," Martha interrupted, stray tears still making tracks down her face. "You don't think I blame you, do you?" 

Lana dipped her gaze, her body shaking, and Martha brought her in for another embrace. "Oh, Lana, I know this isn't your fault. Clark knows that, too." 

Lana nodded, pulling back, her gaze going to Clark. "I just hope I get to talk to him." 

Martha stepped closer to Clark's bedside, retaking his hand in hers, and moving to pet his hair back. "We all do," she whispered, praying for those blue eyes to open. 

The door suddenly opened, and Martha heard Chloe's soft voice, "Sorry, Mrs. Kent. Could I borrow you for a minute, Lana?" 

Martha offered Lana a small smile, nodding to her as the girl left the room after one last glance at Clark. 

She returned her gaze to Clark, running a hand through his hair with a sad smile. "Wake up, sweetheart, someone's worried about you." 

XXX 

Clark rolled over with a groan, slowly blinking his eyes open to have his mother's voice greet him. "Clark, you're awake!" 

"M-Mom?" he murmured, a smile slowly breaking out over his face to see such a bright one on his mom's. 

"I was so worried!" his mom cried, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she wrapped her arms around him.

"How's dad?" Clark asked, hesitantly, his eyes searching her face. 

Thankfully, his mom's smile widened, "He's fine, Clark. We got the antidote." 

"And..." her smile turned teasing as she cupped his face in her hand. "Someone was very worried for you." 

Clark's eyes widened, "Lana? Is she here?" 

"No," his mom laughed lightly, running a hand through his hair. "I convinced her to go after we got the antidote." 

Clark processed her words, then jumped as a thought suddenly occured to him. "But- how... the hospital-" 

"The flower that infected you must have neutralized your powers," his mom explained, and he allowed himself to relax again. "Cause no one's said anything." 

Clark nodded, his mind already turning back to thoughts of Lana. 

His mom grinned, and he flushed, unable to stop a grin forming on his own face. "I'll go check on your dad." 

XXX 

"Okay," Clark said, slowly removing his hands from Lana's eyes. "Open your eyes... it's Metropolis." 

Lana's grin matched his as she surveyed the skyline. "It's beautiful. I can't believe we're up here." 

"It's actually getting down which is going to be the interesting part," Clark laughed, and Lana smiled at him. "It's good to have you back, Clark." 

"I spent the morning apologizing to Lex, but..." Clark looked at her uncertainly, "I hope I don't have to apologize to you, too." 

Lana seemed to hesitate, just briefly, but ended up shaking her head, sending relief through Clark. "No, no, you don't." 

"I just wish I could remember what happened," he sighed, glancing back at the skyline. "Sounds like I kinda lost control." 

"You did what you wanted, said what you wanted," Lana replied, and he looked back at her. "Kind of an alpha Clark." 

She smiled, but he dipped his head, knowing that as someone with his powers... he couldn't afford to do that again. It was a wonder nothing happened. 

"So..." he side-eyed her, that hesitancy that had been in her gaze still bothering him. "You promise I didn't do anything to you?" 

Again, Lana seemed to hesitate, but it disappeared so fast from her eyes that Clark wasn't sure if it'd been there. "No, I promise." 

He nodded, turning his gaze once more on the skyline, silence reigning for a moment before Lana piped up, "So, Clark, how's it feel to be on top of the world? Or Smallville, at least." 

Clark felt his lips widen into a smile, a breath leaving him. "I feel free." 

Chapter Text

"Did you know about this when I talked to you earlier today?" 

Lex didn't try to pull away from Clark's tight grip, meeting his gaze directly, but unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. "Clark, other than Jason, I had no idea anyone outside of Luthorcorp was exposed. You have to believe me!" 

As desperate as he was to have Clark believe him, Lex didn't miss the way the other man's expression briefly shuttered, some color draining from his face. 

"What-What is this stuff?" Clark demanded, but his voice had grown faint, and to Lex's horror, his eyes suddenly fluttered closed, his knees buckling. 

"Clark!" Lex cried, easily catching the other man as he fell against him, utterly limp in his arms. 

For a single moment, Lex could do nothing but stand there, frozen, holding up Clark's unconscious form. 

This had all gone so wrong... and now his only friend in the world had fallen victim to this virus, and it was Lex's fault. 

He managed to break himself out of his stupor, waving Dr. Scanlan over while still holding onto Clark. "Get him the best care available in this hospital, I want his condition monitored around the clock." 

Dr. Scanlan hurriedly wheeled over a gurney, taking in Clark's pale face in alarm. "Mr. Luthor, the other patients-" 

Lex helped lift Clark onto the gurney, momentarily unable to tear his gaze away from the young man that had became like a brother to him. 

"I don't care what the hell you have to do," Lex snapped, "but if Clark Kent dies under your watch, you're paying the consequences, doctor." 

Ignoring the spike of fear in the doctor's eyes, Lex turned away, already pulling out his cell phone, but his anxiety didn't leave him. 

All his life, Lex had wanted a friend, and when he finally got one, he might very well end up being the reason they died. 

It was a lie what he'd told the doctor. If Clark Kent died, he'd be the one paying the consequences. For the rest of his life. 

Chapter Text

"Thomas Jefferson's vice president was..." Chloe chewed on the end of her pencil, fingers idly tapping her notebook as she glanced up at Lana. 

"Aaron something..." the other girl murmured, brows furrowed, as she turned to Clark, who sat next to them on the bleachers. "Do you know, Clark?" 

Clark snapped his wide blue eyes up to both of them from where he'd been watching football practice play out. "What?" 

Chloe rolled her eyes fondly, sharing an exasperated smile with Lana as she put down her pencil. "Clark, honestly," she said, gesturing out to the field, "if you wanna play so badly, you should. You're broad, tall..." 

And completely beautiful, she thought but didn't say, her voice trailing off as Clark shrugged, giving them a sheepish smile even as longing shown in his eyes. 

"I-I would," he stammered, dropping his gaze, and fiddling with his hands in that way that the blonde found so endearing. "But, you know my dad-" 

Yet before Clark could finish, a football suddenly came flying at his head, sending him sprawling against the bleachers. 

"Clark!" she and Lana shouted in unison, setting their books to the side as they rushed over to him, moving to help him up. 

"Are you okay?" Lana asked, features creased in concern as they gripped his shoulders, studying him as he quickly sat up. "That must've hurt your head." 

"It... uh- it did," Clark stammered, his startled blue eyes scanning the field. "It... really hurts." 

Chloe's gaze roved over him, slightly shocked that he didn't seem to be in more pain. He must be trying to hide it, she reasoned. 

"Let me see," Lana said, releasing Clark's shoulder to peer at his head, carefully pressing her fingers to his scalp. 

"There's no blood..." the blonde heard the other girl say amidst Clark's hisses of pain, briefly turning her back to them in time to spot some of the players grinning, clapping each other on the shoulder. "But there must be a bruise."

"Grade A assholes," Chloe muttered, turning back to see Lana with her arm wrapped around Clark while he kept a hand pressed to his head. 

"Maybe we should say something to them," Lana replied, her eyes narrowing as they all watched the field. "Or the coach?" 

"N-No," Clark spoke up, however, pulling away from them to stand up from the bleachers, his gaze nervously darting between them. "It's okay, guys, really." 

"But, Clark-" Chloe interjected, rising to her feet with Lana, the other girl's hand moving to his shoulder. 

"I'm fine," he insisted, offering them one of his shy smiles, "It's no big deal, just an accident."

The blonde shared a glance with Lana, both of them knowing it wasn't, in fact, an accident. Something that Clark knew, too. 

"You should at least go see the nurse," Lana urged him, her eyes filled with concern. "You could have a concussion." 

Clark's features were anxious, almost squirming to get away from them, much to Chloe's confusion. 

He must be embarrassed, she told herself, at us seeing him get picked on. 

But he had to know she didn't care, yet... Chloe didn't think that was the problem. He was embarrassed at Lana seeing him get picked on. 

She pursed her lips, but reminded herself to focus on Clark, already pulling out her cell phone. "I could call your parents for you while you're seeing the nurse." 

"No! No, really," Clark piped up, sliding out of Lana's hold, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It just hurts a little bit. I'll get my dad to pick me up." 

Chloe and Lana both surveyed him, hesitant to let off so soon. "Okay, but..." Lana eventually said, her worried eyes never leaving him. "Make sure to call us, later." 

"I will!" Clark promised, earnestly, already turning to step away. "I-I'll see you guys, later!" 

"Oh, and Clark!" the other girl called, and he stopped in his tracks. "I'll talk to Whitney, those guys will get what's coming to them." 

Clark grimaced, but nodded, before hurrying off with a wave. 

Both girls watched him go, Chloe watching with her brows furrowed. 

"I hope he's okay," Lana said, and she nodded, their gazes going once more to the field. "I can't understand why he didn't want to go up to them." 

Chloe shrugged, a small smile on her face as she turned to Lana. "That's Clark Kent for you. A golden boy if you've ever seen one." 

Somehow, for all the years Chloe had known him, Clark had had this... goodness in him, this moral purity. As if he'd been born with more of a code to go by than the rest of them. 

And yet, like those guys, there were people who looked down on him for it, wanted to make fun of him.

But... Chloe had a strange feeling that Clark would prove all those school bullies wrong one day. That... someday they'd all be looking up to him. 

He was just that special kind of guy. 

Chapter Text

"Clark!" Lois shouted, quickly hurrying to his side to help him up. "Are you okay?" 

Dr. Fine must've hit him good, she thought, concern spiking in her as he moaned, "Get me out of here." 

"Okay," Lois murmured, grabbing his arm to pull him up to his feet, making to head out of the office, but not before the doctor suddenly came rushing towards them, scalpel in hand. 

Barely looking back, Lois kicked the older woman in the chest, "Bitch." 

Anyone who made teenage girls feel like they had to change their whole appearance to be pretty was the perfect meaning of the word. 

Focus, Lois, she told herself, continuing on helping Clark out the door. "All right, Smallville, let's-" 

She broke herself off as he suddenly staggered against her, knocking them against the wall. "Lois..." 

"Oh my God," Lois said, catching a glimpse of his face, and her heart hammering at finding it white as a sheet, his eyes half closed. 

"Okay... okay..." she muttered, as much as to reassure herself as him, carefully moving to lower him against the wall. "Just put your head between your legs, Clark. Take deep breaths." 

Now, this was an article for the Torch if there ever was one. A half-naked Lois Lane helping Clark Kent not to pass out after going hand to hand with a doctor a little too obsessed with beauty. 

This was a weird, weird town. 

"In and out... that's right," she encouraged, kneeling in front of Clark as he lowered his head between his knees, his chest heaving. "In and out..." 

Clark's slightly exaggerated breaths filled the hall as they stayed there, with Lois never tearing her gaze away from him. 

And as slowly, slowly, the color came back into his face, and she felt something ease inside of her. 

"Feeling a little better now?" Lois asked softly, more softly than she'd expected to speak, reaching out to place a hand on his knee. 

Clark's blue eyes fluttered open, staring up at her through his lashes, and she'd be lying if she said her heart didn't speed up... just a little bit as their gazes met. 

"Thanks, Lois," he whispered, his chest still rising and falling slightly more rapidly than normal. But he didn't look like he was on the verge of losing consciousness anymore. 

"No problem, Smallville," Lois whispered back, unable to keep all the relief from her voice. 

For a few moments, neither of them moved, their gazes remaining locked, until they both abruptly looked away, getting up simultaneously. 

"Yeah, we don't have to, uh..." Lois said, gesturing aimlessly, a bit breathless herself all of a sudden. 

"Mention this again," Clark supplied, and she nodded, eventually bringing her gaze back to his. 

"Wanna get out of here, now?" Lois asked, taking his face in once more, but not as intently. 

"Y-Yeah," he quickly nodded, studying her as well, but with an expression she couldn't decipher. "Yeah, let's get out of here." 

Before it could go on any longer, Lois shifted her gaze away, walking beside Clark as they made their way out, still a bit wobbly but steady. 

Yeah, there was no reason to mention this again, and... definitely no reason to ever mention to anyone how her heart had sped up when he'd looked at her, and had kept pounding since. 

Chapter Text

"Hey!" Lois called, jogging over to Clark. "What did you do to my cousin? She's freaking me out." 

Clark, unfortunately, didn't have an explanation to give her. "Nothing!" he cried, sounding as baffled as she felt. "She's hitting on me." 

Lois was new to this whole journalist thing, but she had a feeling Mr. Big Blue Eyes knew more than he was letting on. 

And... boy, were they blue in the sunlight. 

"Well," she responded dryly, choosing to ignore that little fact, "obviously you sent some kind of signal that you were interested." 

To her annoyance, replied by saying, "Look, Lois, I got a big game coming up, and I'm trying to make a good impression here, all right? So, could we talk about this, later?" 

Lois was about to fire back before Chloe came skipping, literally skipping over to them, making a beeline for Clark. "Hey! Hey, Clark! Hi!" 

"Oh my God," Lois muttered, resisting the urge to face-palm. Her cousin was really starting to freak her out. 

"Hi, Clark! Hi!" the blonde giggled, twirling around worse than a kid high on sugar. "Ta-da! Hi!" 

"Chloe," he greeted back, looking the epitome of unenthused, and a little scared. "W-What's with the cheerleader outfit?" 

Chloe started rambling off on how she found the prissy girl get-up, while Lois tried to wrap her brain around... this. 

Yeah, Clark was good looking enough... for a guy, and... he did have those really blue eyes that reminded Lois of the first time she'd seen the ocean, but... 

But to turn into a pom pom diva for the guy? Uh-uh, no thanks, Lois thought. 

Her train of thought broke off as Chloe looked at her, her smile fading. "What is she doing here?" 

"Hey, Kent! Some time today!" a shout came from the field, and the blonde threw another bright smile at Clark, "Good luck! Bye!" 

They both watched as her cousin blew him a kiss, then pranced away, happy as a clam.

"Oh my God," Lois said, turning back to Clark, able to swear she'd walked into some parallel universe. "She's taken the fast train to Stepford." 

"I need you to keep her away from me," Clark said over his shoulder, and Lois hurriedly followed after him. "With what?" she demanded, "A tranquilizer gun?" 

For the first time in their conversation, Clark faced her fully, and she let herself calm slightly. "There's obviously something wrong," he replied, looking, to his credit, regretful. "I just need some time to figure it out, okay?" 

For some reason, even when she wanted to punch him, Clark had this... effect on her, this charm, something that made her let him get away with stuff she wouldn't let any other guy. 

It was a weakness, and more than anything, Lois hated feeling weak, but... unlike usually, she couldn't avoid this certain one. 

And she didn't know why. 

"Okay," Lois responded, not exactly sure how she was gonna keep Cupid away from him, but sure she'd figure it out somehow. 

She turned away as Clark did the same, yet some strange urging in her gut had her going over to the bleachers to watch. 

She supposed she could see the appeal Chloe saw in him, Lois mused. He had that classic kind of smile, the kind that you only saw in the movies-

What was she doing? 

Lois shook her head, determined to get ahold of herself. She needed to get out of this school, out of this podunk town- 

"Hey, Lois!" Lana greeted her, sitting beside her, and she jumped, quickly plastering on a smile. "Hey... Lana!" 

She didn't hear your thoughts, dummy, Lois reminded herself, forcing herself to relax as Lana continued, "Are you here to watch Clark?" 

At first, Lois froze, but hurriedly nodded at seeing Lana's smile, giving a shrug. "Well, you know, had to see how good old farm boy was." 

Good, Lois, she told herself, releasing a breath. "You?" 

Strangely, Lana seemed to clam up as well, letting out an awkward laugh. "Uh- yeah, yeah, me too." 

Lois's brows furrowed, but before she could say anything, the practice had started, and they both turned to watch. 

And... her jaw dropped. She'd never seen Clark play that bad, never seen... anyone play that bad. 

She shared a puzzled glance with Lana, snapping her gaze back to the field at the coach's shout, "Kent! Get up, c'mon!" 

But Clark didn't get up, just lay there slumped against the grass, and Lois felt her heart in her throat. 

Something was wrong. Clark was a lot of things, infuriating, egotistical, but... he always got up. 

Without another second's hesitation, Lois stood from the bleachers, striding across the field, pushing past players. 

"Clark?" Lois asked, her eyes roving over his curled up form, her breathing loud in her ears as she kneeled down, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder. "You okay?" 

Ignoring the sound of Chloe's cheers for Clark to keep going, she focused on the boy in front of her, watching in rising concern as he groaned, shifting feebly. "L-Lois..." 

That was answer enough for her. 

"All right, come on, you're leaving," Lois declared, offering a hand to pull him up, before a hand latched onto her shoulder. 

"Kent's not going anywhere," the assistant coach said furiously, way too furiously for a high school practice. "Get off the field!" 

Now, in her time brushing shoulders with marines, and soldiers alike, Lois had learned from an early age how to deal with guys. 

She shoved the coach back, taking Clark's hand and pulling him up for him to stagger against her. "Hey! Beat it, pal." 

This guy didn't take no for an answer apparently, because he surged forward again. "Kent's not-" 

"He is," Lois shot back, adjusting her hold around Clark's waist as he swayed, meeting the coach's gaze directly. "Or the principal's gonna hear from a little birdie how you're forcing kids to play when they're clearly sick." 

When a rage-fueled reply didn't come after that, Lois began to guide Clark off the field, having to pull on her strength more than she'd thought she would to keep him upright. 

"L-Lois..." Clark moaned, stumbling along beside her. 

"No problem, Smallville," she chirped, giving his waist a little squeeze. "You should see a caffeine deprived sergeant at 0500 hours." 

"L-Lois-" he started again, his voice strained, but was cut off when Lana jogged over to them, taking Clark in with wide eyes. 

"Is he okay?" she asked in alarm, and Lois gestured for her to come closer, grunting out, "Help me get him to the nurse." 

Lana immediately came forward, taking Clark's other shoulder as he stammered out, "N-No, I don't need-" 

"No offense, Clark," Lois replied, having to adjust her hold on him yet again, "But you look like a feather could knock you over, and God... you're heavy. What, did you grab an extra muffin this morning?" 

Clark only groaned in reply, sounding miserable, and she felt her face fall, her heart taking on an even faster rhythm. 

"It's okay... you're okay," Lois said, her words tumbling out in a rush as she exchanged a worried look with Lana. "We're gonna get you fixed up." 

Something about Lois was that when she was nervous, she talked, a lot. And right now? She was about as nervous as she could get feeling Clark continue to lag between her and Lana, his steps becoming more and more clumsy. 

"L-Lois..." Clark practically whined, a hint of desperation entering in his voice that had her chest tightening. 

"Okay, okay," Lois said hurriedly, turning to direct him over to a nearby bench. "Lana, you go get the nurse, we'll be out here." 

Jerking a nod, Lana released her hold on Clark, and after an anxious look towards him, ran inside the school. 

"Okay, now-" Lois started, but stopped when Clark suddenly keeled forward with a gag, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of liquid hitting the ground. 

Clark's groan filled her ears as she opened her eyes, his weak coughs making her heart squeeze. 

"M' sorry-" he slurred, breathlessly, and Lois was quick to reassure him, unable to quell the anxiety in her voice entirely, "It's okay, it's okay, Clark." 

He groaned again, and she tightened her hold on him, trying her best to look anywhere else but at the mess on the ground. "You think you're done?" 

Clark made an uncertain noise, mumbling, "I-I don't know..." 

You got this, Lois, she told herself, taking in a steadying breath, and saying gently, "Well, let's go sit down and wait for the nurse. Okay?" 

Receiving a little nod, she helped him stagger over to the bench, carefully easing him down beside her. 

She stiffened, however, as almost as if it came naturally, Clark rested his head on her shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. 

And in the same instant, he quickly moved to pull away, muttering an apology, but she gestured for him to go on. "No, no, it's okay. Just take it easy." 

Even as miserable as he looked, Clark shot her a stare of disbelief, his blue eyes wide, but after her gesturing again, slowly rested his head back on her shoulder. 

She wouldn't usually do this, she reminded herself, but the poor guy clearly felt terrible. What kind of a monster would she be if she didn't let him lay his head on her shoulder? 

And it would only be a for a few minutes, she reminded herself of that fact as well. 

What she would not let herself address was that... it felt kinda nice for Clark's head to rest on her shoulder, his soft black hair tickling her neck. 

And it clearly felt nice to him as well, judging by the exhale he released, his body relaxing against hers. "Thank you, Lois..." he murmured, relief obvious in his voice. 

"No problem, Smallville," she breathed, and was about to close her eyes when the sound of hurried footsteps filled the air. 

Lois perked up, immediately, Clark raising up beside her as Lana and the nurse came over to them. "Your mother's here, she's waiting in the office," the nurse told Clark's stiff form beside her. "C'mon, honey." 

Lois watched as Clark raised up shakily from the bench, noting how he seemed almost... reluctant to get up, but that was probably just because he didn't feel good. 

"C'mon, Clark," Lana said, watching him worriedly, putting a hand on his back as they started to lead him inside. 

Clark moved to follow along, but not before sending a glance toward Lois, and it sent tingles running up and down her at the softness in his eyes... and something else that she decided to ignore. 

After they'd left, Lois realized, belatedly, that she'd started to feel relaxed, too. 

XXX 

Clark glanced up from his history book at the sound of the stairs to his loft creaking, finding Chloe making her way up them. 

"Hey," he greeted, shooting her a smile as he closed his book, turning to face her. 

"Hey," she greeted back, tucking her hands in her back jean pockets as she approached his desk. "I forgot to ask the other day, but I heard about your mishap after football practice..." 

Clark grimaced as she made a sympathetic face, standing up from his chair. "I don't think I'll ever apologize enough times to Lana for throwing up on her shoes in the nurse's office." 

Chloe let out a laugh, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she shrugged. "Don't worry, Clark, she didn't seem very concerned about her shoes when I talked to her." 

"So, she told you, then?" Clark asked, pushing down on the embarrassment that had rose up in him at the memory. 

His brows furrowed, however, as Chloe tilted her head, "No, actually... Lois was the one. Did she stay with you?" 

Unexpectedly, a flush coated his face slightly at the question. "Yeah..." he replied, averting his eyes. "She stayed with me till the nurse got there. Nearly got her shoes, too." 

He brought his gaze back to Chloe's when a perplexed look came over her features, mixed with curiosity. "Really?" 

Clark side-eyed her, wondering why she was making such a big deal out of this, and wondering why he suddenly felt so shy. "Yeah..." 

"Wow," the blonde replied, a slight grin coming to her lips as she studied him. "Something must've changed, because Lois can't stand being around people when they're sick. It freaks her out." 

Clark's brows shot up, and the flush on his face must've deepened because Chloe's grin grew wider as she turned to go, "Maybe a mystery for the Wall of Weird. Goodnight... lover boy." 

He stared after her, affronted, "Chloe! That's not-" 

His only reply was her laughter as she went down the steps, and Clark pursed his lips, turning to his view of the night sky. 

Gazing up at the stars, his mind wandered back to when Lois had let him lay his head on her shoulder, to his shock. 

Never in a million, trillion years would he ever admit it to anybody, not even himself, but it had felt... nice. 

Not only because he'd been currently feeling like he was gonna puke his guts up at any second, but... because something about the sweet scent of her perfume... vanilla, it was, and the feeling of her soft skin against his cheek had made him never wanna move. 

And when he had, and he'd glanced back at her, he prayed she hadn't been able to tell that even if it meant he'd keep feeling awful, he'd have chosen to stay there beside her for the rest of the day in a heartbeat. 

Right then, he also prayed that this feeling would go away, the feeling that he'd do anything to do it again. 

Chapter Text

"Chloe, listen," Clark said, desperation in his voice as he trailed behind the blonde. "I'm not really sure what I did to you-" 

"Another convenient case of amnesia, huh?" Chloe snapped, and Clark dipped his head, frustration rising in him. "No, but whatever it is, I'm really sorry." 

At last, she faced him, and he nearly took a step back at the anger in her features. "Clark, you know what? It's a really valiant effort, but you've used up your lifetime allotment of apologies." 

Chloe continued railing at him, and with each word, he felt his frustration grow and grow.

He couldn't escape his destiny, what Jor-el wanted him to do, he couldn't tell anyone his secret unless he wanted them to end up like Pete, he couldn't- 

"Actually, Chloe," Clark broke off her tirade, unable to stop his eyes from welling with a sheen of tears, "I didn't think that friends got a limited supply of apologies." 

Chloe's face had fell at seeing the sudden tears in his eyes, and she gawked at him as he continued, his voice beginning to shake more and more, "I didn't think that after every Wall of Weird thing that's happened in this town, that me not acting like myself for one day would be unforgivable. I didn't think-"

"Woah, woah, Clark," Chloe interjected as he cut himself off, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back anymore tears, holding her hands out placatingly. "Just calm down, okay?" 

At no longer seeing anger in her expression, Clark felt himself relax slightly, his shoulders dropping as she stared up at him in both concern and shock. 

Clark found he was shocked, too. He couldn't believe he'd just... unloaded like that, he never did that. 

It felt... good. 

What also became evident to him was the steadily increasing headache he'd had since switching back with Lionel, now pounding against his skull. 

He pressed a hand to his head with a wince, squeezing his eyes shut as Chloe murmured in disbelief, "Something really did happen to you, didn't it?" 

Clark's eyes flickered open to find her staring at him, looking to be about to say more before she glanced behind him, clearly still flabbergasted. "He's... all yours, Lana." 

He watched her go, disappearing into the sea of students, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he'd said all that as Lana's tightly controlled voice reached his ears, "Have you said anything to anyone?" 

Hand still idly pressed to his temple as it throbbed, Clark turned, his brows furrowing. "What?" 

"Don't play games with me, Clark," Lana said, clearly furious for a reason unknown to him. 

"Seriously, Lana," Clark replied, lowering his hand, praying she'd believe him. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

His confusion only grew when she grabbed his arm none too gently, leading him over to the corner of the hall. "This isn't about you and me, all right? This is about Jason losing his job." 

"Why would Jason lose his job?" Clark asked, wondering what on earth Lionel had apparently been up to. 

"Why do you think?" she demanded, "If anyone had the slightest inkling we were a couple, he'd be fired in a heartbeat." 

The words hit Clark like a blow, sending a pang through his chest that hurt more than kryptonite ever would. 

Couple? 

"You and Jason?" Clark managed to get out, feeling his body start to shake. 

Too much. It was all too much. 

Jor-el... the stones... now Lana and Jason...? 

He barely heard a word Lana said next, but a few in particular had him stiffening, able to feel his heart as it sunk all the way to his feet. 

Lana was practically glaring up at him as she almost spat out, "Please, you know, after everything you've put me through, can you at least keep this a secret? It seems to be the one thing you were good at." 

The one thing you were good at. 

Clark staggered back slightly, his wide eyes searching her face. But, no, she'd said the words and meant them, not making to take them back. 

He felt the familiar urge to nod, to not say anything, but for some reason, he didn't follow through with it this time. 

Maybe it was the pain in his head, or everything that was happening, but Clark didn't wanna lie down and take it this time. 

"Y-You know," Clark started, sniffling as he swiped at a tear that had threatened to roll down his cheek, an exasperated laugh leaving him. "The only ones who believed me were my parents and Lex, but-but you guys..."

Lana was still watching him, unflinching, as he took a step forward, an incredulous look forming on his face. "Do you really think I'm that bad of a person?" he asked, not wanting but needing to know. "That I would do whatever I did to you in my right mind?" 

She opened her mouth to speak, surprise at his outburst at last starting to show on her face, but he kept going. 

Some kind of dam had opened inside of him, hurt flaring deep in his chest, and Clark didn't know how to stop it. 

"You ran away with Seth, almost killed me, but you know, I forgave you without a second thought," Clark said hotly, more emotion leaking into his voice than he'd expected. And, seemingly Lana, too, her jaw dropping. 

"And another thing," he went on, sharply, gesturing aimlessly around them. "You dated a guy who made fun of me on more than one occasion, but... I forgave you. Still." 

Clark was mere inches from Lana now, his words coming fast, faster than he had time to think of what he was saying. 

And she was gaping up at him, stricken, anger still burning in her eyes, but... something else, too. 

"So, you come up to me," Clark went on after a moment, breathlessly, his eyes still roving over her face. "And you don't give me a chance to explain myself, just cut me down to size. Well..." 

He sniffled again, feeling a tear trickle down his cheek, but didn't move to wipe it away, just kept his gaze trained on Lana's. "I guess I'm not good for much more than keeping secrets, maybe not for anything, cause I don't understand this." 

Clark took one more moment to study Lana, the girl he'd dreamed about for as long as he could remember. The girl he still dreamed about. 

She seemed to be speechless, just gazing back at him with an expression he couldn't decipher, her eyes bright with tears. 

He wanted to wipe them away, to kiss her on the cheek, to hold her. But he couldn't. 

"Whatever I did..." Clark whispered, stepping back, his eyes still never leaving hers as the anger fled from his voice, replaced with earnestness. "Just know it wasn't me, Lana. I-I'd never hurt you on purpose."

"Clark..." Lana finally murmured, still staring at him, wide-eyed, but he turned away before she could finish, mumbling, "I-I've gotta go. My head's killing me." 

Ducking his head, Clark made his way past her, gripping his backpack strap tightly, forcing himself not to look back. 

His head was killing him, but... it didn't hurt as much as his heart. 

Chapter Text

Martha had just made herself a cup of coffee, about to wrap her hands around the steaming mug to go join Jonathan in the living room before a loud knocking against the door sounded. 

She nearly dropped her mug, fumbling with it a moment before setting it down, exchanging an alarmed look with her husband. 

Martha came up behind him as he rose to his feet, cautiously approaching the door as the rapping continued. "Who is-" 

Jonathan's demand was cut off at the sight of their son slumped against Lex, only half-conscious. "Clark!" Martha shouted with a gasp, surging forward along with her husband to take him from Lex. 

She gaped down at their son, too horrified for words as Jonathan gathered him in his arms, carrying him over to the couch, near shaking with anger. 

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me?" Martha murmured, petting Clark's hair back as she took in his pale face... and the sleek sweater and slacks he was wearing. 

"It... uh, was the only clothes I had on hand," Lex offered for explanation, gesturing to Clark sheepishly. 

Clark moaned, tossing his head, and she snapped her attention back to him as Jonathan slowly spoke, anger filling his every word as he faced Lex, "Would you mind telling me just what in the hell happened to Clark?" 

"It was my father," she heard Lex respond, his normally composed voice trembling just slightly. "He was trying to experiment on Clark." 

At that, Martha whirled around, her jaw dropped open. "Experiment?" 

If Lionel knew- 

"But I stopped it before anything happened," Lex quickly told them, his gaze briefly resting on Clark. "I assure you." 

Silence fell, only filled with the occasional moan from Clark, until Jonathan ran a hand through his hair in an obvious attempt to calm down. "Lex..." 

"I'll let you see to Clark," Lex interjected, beating Jonathan to it, already turning to go.

But he paused, meeting both their gazes, his own looking truly regretful to Martha's eyes. "I'm... only sorry that Clark got dragged into this. Truly." 

Then he was gone, leaving them focusing back on Clark's still barely conscious form.

"Get a pillow from the closet, Jonathan," Martha told her husband, going back to petting Clark's hair back, caressing his face. "And a blanket." 

"Sweetheart?" Martha whispered, her eyes darting across his face, watching as it creased. "Baby, say something." 

Clark groaned, curling onto his side, pressing his face into the couch cushions, just as Jonathan came back with the pillow and blanket. 

"C'mon, honey, raise up for me," she said softly, and once he'd raised up slightly, slid the pillow beneath his head. 

Clark fell against the pillow with a sigh, his eyes fluttering. "Clark? Honey?" Martha asked, helping spread the blanket out over him.

For a moment, it seemed he'd wake up, but as she tucked the blanket around him, he only snuggled further against the pillow, his chest rising and falling softly. 

"I'd let him sleep, Martha," Jonathan whispered, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder. "I think he'll be all right." 

He was right. They'd find out more about what had happened when Clark woke up.

Sleeping like he was right then, he reminded her so much of when he was little, curled up on the couch after a long day of trailing Jonathan around. 

She brushed his hair back, her touch feather light, giving a kiss to his forehead. She stared down at him with a soft smile, her smile widening as he subconsciously leaned into her touch. 

Neither her or Jonathan had known then just how proud he'd make them one day, saving strangers and friends alike. He did so much, so much good... but it left him usually having to forgo getting proper rest. 

For now, she was just thankful that her special boy could sleep. 

XXX 

"Jonathan," Martha called to her husband, "I think he's waking up." 

They both hurried over from where they'd been in the kitchen towards the couch, finding Clark starting to shift. 

"Clark?" Jonathan said, right behind Martha as she kneeled down, putting a hand on their son's shoulder. "Clark, sweetie?" 

Clark groaned, before his eyes flickered open at last. "M-Mom... dad?" 

Relief swept through Martha, hearing her husband release a relieved sigh as she nodded, running her hand through his hair. "Are you all right? What happened?" 

Clark lay there for a moment, blinking, clearly trying to get his bearings, then she watched as his face fell slightly. 

"I-I'm fine," he murmured, raising up despite Martha's efforts to get him to lay back, his gaze dipped. "No one found out anything. Lex... got to me in time." 

"Well, thank God for that," Martha blew out a breath, sharing a grateful look with Jonathan. 

She returned her attention, however, back to Clark as he slowly stood, still not lifting his gaze. 

"Clark?" Martha asked, staring up at him, at the same time as Jonathan said, "Son?" 

"I... I'm gonna go change," Clark said, peering down at the clothes Lex had put on him. "I think I'll go out to the loft."

Martha stared up at him for another moment, then glanced up at Jonathan, the concern in his gaze mirroring her own.

"Okay," she replied, standing to her feet as they watched him go up the stairs, his gait slower than usual. "Do you want anything to eat, sweetheart?" 

"No thanks, mom," Clark answered quietly, not turning his head to look back at her, then continued up the stairs. 

Martha met Jonathan's gaze silently, both of them knowing that something was wrong, and she didn't think it was physical. 

Clark hadn't even needed to say anything, she could have known by his face alone, by the sadness in those blue eyes. 

Something had happened at Summerholt, something that had hurt him. But she'd wait for him to talk about it, as always. 

A mother always knew. 

Chapter Text

Lois carefully padded down the stairs, briefly peering around her, then shuffling onwards towards the kitchen in her bunny slippers. 

It was almost three in the morning, but... what could she say? A girl had to have her midnight snack. 

Along the way, she caught sight of Clark's foot hanging over the edge of the couch, and felt a smirk slowly spread across her face as she tiptoed over. 

There was Smallville, curled up tightly and snuggled into his blanket, off in dreamland. 

As Lois watched him, that little sliver of guilt nagged at her again at having kicked the poor guy out of his bedroom. 

In all honesty, she should be the one to be hitting the hay on the couch, yet Clark had offered to sleep down here himself. Insisted, actually. 

Even though Lois didn't always allow herself to remember it, she didn't know any guys who would do that. But... Clark wasn't like any other guy she'd ever met, after all. 

He could be more irritating than a bug buzzing at your ear, but then... he could be a gentleman, a real one.

And growing up among rough and un-mannered men all her life, she wasn't too used to that. 

Lois stiffened, her cheeks already heating as she racked her brain for an excuse when Clark suddenly shifted with a soft moan, but felt her shoulders drop when he settled back. 

In so doing, however, he ended up knocking his blanket off.

Her smile turning a bit soft, Lois slowly reached forward, carefully pulling the blanket up without jostling him. 

Clark shifted slightly, and she froze, but relaxed as he stilled, her smile widening into a grin when he cuddled into the blanket with a soft sigh. 

For whatever reason, Lois then found herself moving to brush his hair back, stifling a laugh at how mussed it was. 

He didn't look cute though, she quickly reminded herself, no, just stupid. Definitely not adorable...

"Nighty night, Clark," Lois whispered, pulling her hand away, and ignoring the way it felt when his soft hair brushed against her fingers. 

Before she turned to go, she tucked the blanket closer around his shoulders, feeling a strange flutter in her heart when he snuggled deeper into the couch.

"Snug as a bug," she murmured, then whipped her gaze around, self-consciously. Though it wasn't as if anyone was watching her. 

You're being stupid, Lois, she scolded herself, it's... cold. She couldn't make him ditch his bedroom, and let him be cold. 

That... was all. 

Lois repeated that to herself as she eased her way back over to the stairs, stepping lightly back up them. 

And all thoughts of getting a midnight snack forgotten. 

Chapter Text

"Don't worry, Clark," Lana assured the boy in front of her, smiling softly. "In a few days, you'll walk through that door and your mom will be there again." 

Her smile started to fade, however, as Clark shivered, hunching into himself, his eyes drooping slightly, an almost dazed look entering them. 

"Clark?" she asked, alarm filling her voice as she studied him. "You okay? Clark-" 

Terror shot through her when Clark suddenly started to tilt to the side, his eyes rolling up in his head, then as he toppled down the stairs. 

"Clark!" Lana shouted, hurtling down the steps to rush to his side, quickly turning him onto his back. 

His eyes firmly closed greeted her, his head lolling, and the fact that whatever had happened to Mrs. Kent... had happened to him, too. 

"Clark..." she whispered, her heart sinking as fear rose up in her, so much so that for a moment, all she could do was stare down at him in shock. 

Then her senses rushed back to her, her heart taking on a furious pounding as she dashed back up the stairs, quickly pulling open the door. "Mr. Kent! Mr. Kent, it's Clark!" 

Immediately, a flustered looking Mr. Kent rushed over to her from the kitchen, his gaze roving over her in alarm. "What? What happened?" 

"He-He-" Lana suddenly found it a struggle to speak, a lump forming in her throat. "He passed out, I don't know-" 

Mr. Kent rushed past her, flying out the door, and Lana rushed to follow after him, watching, her hands shaking, as he kneeled beside Clark's unconscious form. 

"I-I don't know what happened," she stuttered out, gazing down at Clark as Mr. Kent placed a gentle hand against his face. "We were talking, and then he just..." 

"Collapsed," Mr. Kent supplied, gravely, grimacing as he dipped his head, sighing deeply. "Same as his mother." 

Lana stared down at Clark's dad in horror, her wide eyes swiftly welling with tears. Oh my God, she thought, oh my God... 

This was actually happening. Clark was sick, seriously. 

She'd never seen him have so much as a sniffle, and now... he could die. 

He could die. 

The words slowly sunk into her, the looming fact of them, as Mr. Kent carefully began to lift Clark into his arms. "Help me get him into the house?" 

Lana saw as Clark's head fell limply against his dad's chest, his arms hanging at Mr. Kent's side, the sight sending a spike of fear through her. 

Then she caught a glimpse of Mr. Kent's face, and knew she had to pull it together somewhat.

It was the face of a man whose family was falling apart, the face of a man with his wife in the hospital, and his teenage son unconscious in his arms. 

The horrifying possibility that Clark could die had already crossed her mind, shaking her to her core, and... she knew it had to have crossed Mr. Kent's. 

In fact, she knew it had by the deep weariness and fear, great fear, in his features that seemed to have already aged ten years in the last few days. 

"Of course," Lana breathed, quickly moving to hold the door open without another moment's hesitation.

But she was unable to tear her gaze away from Clark as Mr. Kent carried him up the stairs, then past her into the living room, laying him down on the couch as if he was the most precious thing in the world to him. 

Of course, he was, other than Mrs. Kent. Clark was the only child they'd ever have. 

"There's some pillows and blankets in the closet," Mr. Kent said, gesturing to the side as he pulled off Clark's shoes and jacket. 

Lana hurriedly went to get them, sweeping across the room, before soon returning with one of each. "Here, Mr. Kent." 

He quickly took them from her, gently tucking the pillow behind Clark's head, and pulling the blanket up as far as the teen's waist.

"Can't get him too hot. He's burning up as is," Mr. Kent murmured, holding a hand to Clark's forehead, and sending another flare of fear through her. 

"I've gotta go call the doctor," Mr. Kent said, pulling his hand away from Clark, and hurrying across the room, leaving Lana watching over him. 

Clark was laying there so still, so peacefully, almost making her believe he was just sleeping.

But then she reminded herself that he was unconscious, took in the sweat already slicking his face. 

She still couldn't believe this was happening, her brain yet to catch up to the events that had played out before her. 

It wasn't until the doctor had charged in, assessing Clark's condition, and Mr. Kent had turned to her to ask her to excuse them that it had fully sunk in. 

"Y-Yeah," Lana responded, reluctantly moving away from the couch to go over to the door. 

Yet when she reached it, she found herself wanting to do anything else in the world but leave.

Glancing back at Clark, she felt her throat tighten, seeing him laying there like that... Clark was always on the move, like he woke up caffeinated. But now... 

Now, he was unconscious, with a sickness no one yet understood, and suddenly she wanted to apologize for all the times she'd gotten mad at him. 

In the moment, sometimes Lana got so angry with him, with his thin excuses, but... right then, she'd forgive him for anything. 

Forcing herself to look away, she grasped the doorknob, swinging it open silently.

Please, be okay, she pleaded, then stepped into the chilly night that seemed even colder now. 

Chapter Text

Martha stared in wonder at Clark's chest, at where a gaping stab wound had only just been spurting her baby's blood. Now... healed. 

"Jonathan, how did you..." 

"I have no idea," her husband responded, clearly as baffled as she was, taking the damp towel in her hands that she'd forgot was there. 

She watched as he started wiping away all the blood- Clark's blood- still trying to wrap her head around what she'd witnessed. 

Jor-el. That was the only explanation. Somehow... someway, he'd used Jonathan to heal Clark. 

But she couldn't bother to try to figure out how, could only be grateful that he did as Jonathan carefully cleaned their son's chest, her white dish towel soon becoming covered in blood. 

Then her hands started to shake as the sight reminded her of the puddle of blood behind her on the kitchen floor that she'd slipped in. 

She'd slipped on her son's own blood. 

"Oh, Jonathan..." Martha whispered, her voice trembling with the tears that flooded her eyes. 

Jonathan turned to look at her, and immediately wrapped his arms around her as tears started running down her cheeks. 

"He-He was dying," she sobbed out, clutching the fabric of her husband's shirt. "If... If we'd gotten back just a little later-" 

They'd have found their son, her baby lying dead- 

"We didn't, we didn't," Jonathan reminded her quickly, his voice firm enough to tear her from the darkness of her thoughts. "Clark's alive, Martha. He's alive." 

He released her, moving aside slightly to let her see Clark still lying unmoving on the floor, some patches of blood yet to be wiped from his chest. 

"What if he's not completely healed?" Martha whispered fearfully, running her hands through his hair as she gazed down at his expressionless face. "W-What if-" 

"We're gonna stay right here," Jonathan interjected, putting a hand on her shoulder that steadied her just a bit. "We're not leaving his side till he wakes up." 

Martha jerked a nod, feeling like her body was almost running on auto-pilot in response to the terror that still held her. 

She couldn't seem to think of anything but that horrifying possibility of them getting home just a short while later.... of finding Clark... 

That had been the first thought that had entered her mind when she saw him sprawled across the floor. 

That the dream was over. It was time to wake up. 

Her father always said a summer is glorious and beautiful, but only as long as it lasts. 

And she'd feared it coming to an end for so long, that fear keeping her awake some nights... she'd thought it finally had. 

"You... You stay with him," Jonathan continued, giving her shoulder a light squeeze that let her know that that same fear had gripped him, too. "I'll go get a blanket." 

Martha gave him a nod, and set to wiping away the last of blood on Clark's chest, her hands almost shaking too much to do it.

That terror wasn't gonna release its hold on her until she saw those blue eyes open, not until she saw Clark wake up. 

Just as she turned to take the blanket from Jonathan, the sound of the phone ringing filled the air... from the floor. 

Martha stared at it, sharing a distressed glance with Jonathan. It was only a few inches from the puddle of blood. Clark must've tried to call them. 

The realization made her shake even more, turning back to Clark as her husband snatched up the phone, clearly as rattled as she was by the slight trembling to his voice. "Hello?" 

The conversation was drowned out in Martha's ears by the thought that had her heart sinking all the way to her feet as she gazed down at Clark. 

Had he thought before he passed out that they wouldn't find him? That they wouldn't be there to help him? 

"Oh, God," Martha sobbed out, then reached forward to bring Clark gently to her chest, clutching at his unconscious form. 

"We're here, baby," she whispered, pressing her head against his neck as she pet the back of his head. "I'm here." 

She wasn't letting him go until she was certain beyond a doubt that her son was okay. Not for a minute. 

"I'm here..." she murmured again, tears stinging her eyes. "I'm here." 

"That was Lex," Jonathan said, bringing her attention back to him, but she didn't turn around, still holding onto Clark tightly. "Jeremiah's escaped." 

Right then, she didn't care, she only cared about the boy in her arms, her boy. Who she didn't want going around Jeremiah ever again. 

In fact, she never wanted to let go of Clark again. But she knew she would have to, just as she very well might have to let him face Jeremiah again. 

"Martha," Jonathan said, his voice gentle, but his hold on her shoulder firm. "Clark knew we'd find him." 

More tears slipped down Martha's cheeks as she forced herself to nod, and Jonathan slowly released her. "I'll, uh... clean up the floor. You get Clark settled." 

Again, she managed to nod, pulling Clark away from her long enough to take the blanket Jonathan had left beside her, wrapping it around his shoulders. 

A pang shot through her when Clark's head lolled against her chest as she moved to lean against the steps, his eyes remaining closed. 

He hadn't moved or made the slightest sound the whole time, and it scared her to death. It scared her everytime Clark was injured, more than most mothers knew. 

Because Clark was special... and it took a lot to hurt him, so for him to not show a sign of waking up... 

She wouldn't be forgetting this night for a long, long time. Likely never. 

Martha brought her arms around Clark, putting her hand directly over where his heart was, and taking comfort in every beat she felt, every breath he took. 

He's alive, she reminded herself over and over, he's alive. 

She repeated those two words to herself again and again, even as the lull of sleep tugged at her, and eventually took hold. 

He's alive. 

Chapter Text

"How much longer is it gonna hurt like this?" Clark managed to get out, sucking in a breath as the doctor finished wrapping his ribs. 

As someone who'd never dealt with so much as a stubbed toe, his introduction to normal life was turning out to be a whammy. 

His ribs were killing him. It was like a thousand knives all stabbing into him at once, and it never stopped. 

Maybe it would be healed up in a few days, at least. 

But to his utter horror, the doctor replied, casually, "Oh, you'll be fine in a couple weeks." 

"A couple weeks?" Clark nearly shouted, his eyes flaring wide. 

He was gonna feel this pain every day for weeks? Weeks? 

Being normal was a lot tougher than he'd thought. 

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," the man offered as reassurance with a shrug, but it wasn't very comforting to Clark. 

Stronger? He felt like he was about to die. 

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, just in time to see his mom rush forward, arms outstretched. "Clark!" 

While usually comforting, one of his mom's big hugs were the exact opposite of what he needed right then as pain erupted in his side. 

"Easy on the ribs, mom," Clark said, his voice strained, and she immediately stepped back. "Sorry." 

Not only did it feel like his ribs were on fire, but it felt like his head was about to split open from the massive headache he was currently enduring. 

So far, normal life wasn't all that fun. A few perks, maybe, like being able to play basketball, but this...? 

This, he could do without. 

"How's he doing, doc?" his dad asked, refraining from crushing Clark in a hug as his mom had. Probably for the best. 

The doctor looked up from his clipboard, his features calm as if an injury like this was just something normal. 

But... Clark supposed it was, and a lot of people got even worse injuries and still went on. 

He was starting to feel like a wuss. 

"Well, nothing seems to be broken," the doctor responded, "we could get an x-ray just to be safe." 

Even though Clark would be tempted to beg to differ, it was probably the best thing to get out of here as soon as possible. 

His dad was likely thinking the same, replying, "Uh, I think we'll just take him on home." 

The man shrugged, making his way out, "It's your choice, but I want to see him back here in a week." 

Clark just prayed he'd have his powers back by then. 

"You help him get dressed," his dad told his mom, "I'll go take care of the paperwork." 

After his dad left, his mom went to helping Clark pull his shirt on, something he'd never thought he'd have trouble doing. 

But then he'd never thought he'd lose his powers, either. 

"What happened?" his mom asked, carefully pulling his arm through his sleeve before going to work on the buttons. 

"Eric just flipped out," Clark explained with as much of a shrug he could manage. "It was kind of scary."  

Was he scary? He'd never gotten that angry or reckless with his powers, but he'd hate to think he looked anything like that. 

He wanted to ask his mom right then, but... something told him he didn't need to as she finished carefully buttoning his shirt, concern evident in her eyes. 

She looked at him the same as she always had, powers or no. That answered his question for him, Clark thought. 

"I wish you hadn't gotten in his way," she said softly, and Clark sighed, slowly and carefully standing up. 

"I don't know what it is," he admitted, "even though Eric has my abilities, I still think of them as my responsibility." 

His mom made to reply, before Lex suddenly waltzed in, and Clark stiffened, feeling his jaw clench. 

This was turning out to be a great day. 

"Clark, I just heard," Lex greeted him, his eyes roving over him. Probably to make sure he was hurt. 

"Hi, Lex," his mom smiled, then likely sensing the tension, decided to make her way out, telling Clark, "I'll go see your dad. See you." 

Nodding to her, Clark promptly started walking past Lex out into the hall. "So, did you come by to make sure I was hurt?" 

No point in beating around the bush, Clark thought. 

Lex hurried to maintain his pace, and he could feel rather than sense Lex's gaze on where his hand was pressed against his ribs. "I wanted to make sure you were all right." 

Once, Clark would have believed that, and a part of him still did, but it was going to take more convincing than that. 

"Yeah. Never better," he replied, sarcastically, choosing not to meet Lex's gaze as they rounded the corner. "Maybe we could go out to the parking lot and you can hit me with your car." 

It wasn't like Clark himself hadn't been lying to Lex since the day they'd met, but... he wanted to believe they were true friends. 

And true friends, even if Clark was keeping his abilities a secret, believed each other. 

Lex finally brought him to a stop, stepping in front of him, "Clark, what I said about you the other day... I'm sorry. Nothing appears to be what it seems lately." 

Clark almost smiled, almost. He had to make Lex feel guilty a little longer, "You gonna stop snooping around my back now?" 

As expected, Lex's usually perfectly composed features fell. "Listen, I had no right to question your honesty," he said, his gaze never leaving Clark's. "All I can do is plead temporary insanity and hope we can find a way to put this behind us." 

It was the grandest apology Clark had ever been given. But in Lex's case, it was genuine. 

"Only temporary?" Clark smiled, at last letting it peek through and Lex's shoulders drooped. 

"You need help with something?" Lex asked, brows raising, and Clark made to reply, before Chloe's voice suddenly filled the hall. 

"Clark!" 

Lex just gave him a nod, smiling slightly, then strode off right before Chloe came rushing in, Lana behind her. "Clark, are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, guys-" he started to say, but was cut off by Chloe pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, specifically crushing his ribs. "We've been so worried!" 

"C-Chloe..." Clark grunted, agony shooting through him, and she immediately released him with a gasp, backing up with wide eyes. 

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," the blonde said, her words tumbling out in a rush, squeezing her eyes shut in a wince. "I had a complete mind wipe." 

Lana dashed up then, her gaze darting between Chloe and where Clark stood now doubled over, clutching his ribs. "Clark?" 

She stared at him, alarm written across her features, but Clark raised a hand, slowly straightening up, trying to show as little pain as possible on his face. 

It was unsuccessful. 

"Are they broken?" Lana asked, her features creased in sympathy, while Chloe watched on, clearly still berating herself. 

"N-No," Clark managed to get out, focusing on taking a slow breath, "the doctor didn't think so. I have a concussion, too, but it's just mild." 

"God, Clark," Lana exclaimed, eyeing him worriedly. "Eric did some serious damage." 

"Y-Yeah..." Clark grimaced, trying his best to ride out a fresh wave of pain, just as his parents made their way over. 

"Oh," his dad's brows rose at finding Lana and Chloe there, quickly giving them a smile. "We didn't mean to interrupt." 

"No, it's okay, Mr. Kent," Lana assured, flashing Clark a smile, concern still lining her features. "We should let you get Clark home. We'll... see you later." 

Giving him and his parents a wave, Lana turned to go, Chloe moving to follow, her head dipped, until Clark called after her. "Chloe!" 

She stopped, looking at him hesitantly, gripping her purse strap as he put on as good of a smile as he could manage. "I'm okay, don't worry." 

Chloe didn't seem to want to believe him for a second, but when he didn't look away, eventually smiled, her features brightening slightly. "Bye Clark, Mister and Mrs. Kent." 

"Bye!" Clark called, before his mom wrapped a gentle hand around his waist, guiding him down the hall alongside his dad. 

"Now," his mom murmured, pressing a kiss to his head that had Clark's smile widening. "It's time to get someone home." 

Chapter Text

Chloe made her way through the halls, once again peering around the corners before continuing onward, her brows furrowing further. 

"Hey! Lana!" the blonde called, hurrying over to the other girl as she spotted her by the lockers. "Have you seen Clark around? I can't seem to find him anywhere." 

To Chloe's confusion and shock, Lana rolled her eyes, facing her with an annoyed look. "No, and I really don't care if I do, Chloe." 

The other girl waved a hand, moving to turn away from Chloe, "He's probably off with his football buddies, go look for them." 

Chloe could only stare after her for a moment, unable to deny she was flabbergasted, before going to follow her, a brow raised. "Lana... I get how we can all go for the cool, detached bitchy vibe, but-" 

The slamming of Lana's locker cut the blonde off, jumping slightly as the other girl turned to her, eyes flashing. "He got Jason fired, Chloe. I don't think I should have to care about him anymore." 

"Okay, but..." Chloe responded, studying the girl in front of her, sighing at her own words. "I think you know in your heart of hearts that Clark wouldn't do that." 

That Kent charm... no matter how many times she got mad at him, Clark always managed to worm his way back into her good graces. 

Usually when she came to her senses. 

"He's the only one who knew," Lana practically snarled at her, turning to take off down the hall, Chloe immediately following. 

"That you know of," the blonde responded, to which Lana didn't spare her the barest glance as she said, "You saw him trying to scrape together an excuse for how he acted the other day-" 

"And I saw him almost break into sobs, too," Chloe shot back, causing Lana to at last stop. 

"Look, Lana..." the blonde continued in a softer tone as the other girl finally faced her, features still stubbornly set. "I know how sometimes Clark's excuses can be-" 

"Lies?" Lana interjected, sharply, and Chloe winced. "Yeah, but... I don't think he was this time," she went on, now meeting Lana's gaze earnestly. "I really don't." 

The other girl dipped her head, though still looking slightly unconvinced, so Chloe quickly continued, her voice turning a bit desperate. "If you just take away the mysteriousness and the excuses, I think nobody would be able to argue that Clark isn't a good guy. A really good guy." 

Lana was looking like she was coming around, yet Chloe dared to add, softly, "And I think that's why you get so mad at him." 

Why I get so mad at him, the blonde thought but didn't say. 

Lana whipped her gaze to Chloe's, her expression at first offended, before it transformed into reluctant acceptance. 

Despite all the strange excuses, and disappearing to Metropolis for three months, neither them or anyone else could deny that Clark was a force of good in this world. 

And something told Chloe that none of them knew just how much. 

Chapter Text

"You doing okay, Clark?" Lana whispered, rubbing his back lightly as they made their way to the nurse's office. 

Clark jerked a nod, but she could see as she glanced up at him that he felt miserable, his blue eyes dull. 

For whatever reason, it was always shocking to her whenever Clark was sick, only once before this, and that had been... scary. 

It just seemed that he somehow never felt the aches and pains of every day life, always raring to go even after P.E. 

So, to see him how he was now... well, it scared her more than it probably should. 

As soon as they stepped inside the office, Lana moved aside as Mrs. Kent flew to Clark's side, inspecting him from head to foot with wide eyes. "Sweetheart! What happened?" 

"I-I don't know," Clark murmured, and Lana felt her heartbeat pick up as her gaze darted in between them, seeing the fear in Mrs. Kent's eyes as he went on, "I just don't feel very well." 

He's her son, Lana reminded herself, any parent would be worried. But... was it necessary to be this worried? 

But she stayed silent, watching as the nurse herded Clark over to the examination table, his mom helping him out of his gear. 

"Let's see, now," the nurse said, sticking a thermometer into Clark's mouth. The seconds seemed to tick by slowly, reminding Lana that she should've probably left by now. 

But... she wanted to stay. First of all, because Clark was her friend, and she needed to make sure he was okay, and second... she'd felt guilty ever since she'd lied to his face before practice. 

It didn't matter that he'd undoubtedly kept secrets from her before, she'd lied right to him after lecturing him about being honest. 

And no one could look into Clark Kent's earnest face and lie to him without feeling a shred of guilt. 

"Well, no fever," the elderly woman announced after taking the thermometer out of Clark's mouth, and Lana felt her shoulders drop slightly. 

"When did you start feeling unwell?" the nurse asked him next, and Clark shifted under the hand his mom had on his shoulder, giving a small shrug. 

"When practice started," he answered, swallowing heavily, his gaze shifting to her briefly before going back to the nurse. "I... I tried to play, but I felt too bad." 

Mrs. Kent pressed a kiss to his head, running a hand through his hair as she hugged him to her. "You shouldn't have tried to play, honey." 

"I-I know," Clark mumbled, his gaze once again flicking towards Lana as the nurse clicked her tongue, sighing, "Well, it could be one of those twenty four hour things. Or a nasty bug. Take him on home, and see how he goes." 

When Mrs. Kent moved to help Clark up, the elderly lady pointed the thermometer at them, sternly, "And plenty of fluids, have him take a few days on the couch." 

"Don't worry," Mrs. Kent responded, giving Clark a stern look of her own as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "We'll make sure of that." 

Clark didn't reply, however, looking, to Lana's alarm, to have lost even more color than before, his eyes half-closed as he sucked in deep breaths. 

"Clark?" Mrs. Kent started, having seen the same thing as Lana, eyeing him worriedly. "Are you-" 

Yet she cut herself off, jumping back faster than Lana managed when Clark abruptly doubled over, expelling his stomach's contents... all over Lana's shoes. 

He immediately started stuttering out apologies amidst gasping for breath as Mrs. Kent helped him to straighten up, gaping down at the floor. "Oh, honey..." 

"L-Lana-" Clark stammered, gulping thickly, his blue eyes filled with distress. "I-" 

"Don't worry about the shoes, Clark," Lana told him, earnestly, gripping his shoulder as he leaned heavily against his mom. "I didn't like them much, anyway." 

She gave him a small smile, hoping to alleviate some of the distress in his features, but unsurprisingly failing. 

Lana really didn't care, honestly, it had just startled her more than anything, and made her even more worried about him. 

"I was afraid of that," the nurse sighed, grimacing as she came over to them. "You get to recognize the look after twenty years." 

Clark flushed at the nurse's sympathetic look, seeming that he could die of embarrassment, and Lana felt her heart drop. 

"Let's get you home," Mrs. Kent said, holding Clark closer to her, her features filled with concern. "C'mon, baby." 

Lana stepped aside, watching them go, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "I'll see you later, Clark, okay? And don't worry, I'm fine!" 

Clark gave her a slight smile, raising a hand in a tired wave as they departed down the hall, leaving Lana staring after them. 

XXX 

"What's with the long face?" Lana heard Chloe ask Lois, and she turned to see where they were sitting at a corner in the Talon. 

"Nothing!" Lois replied, quickly, looking even more startled when she spotted Lana coming over to them. "It's just..." 

Lana watched, along with Chloe, both with brows raised in amusement as Lois threw up her hands, blurting, "Just mad that Clark almost upchucked all over my new shoes! The jerk." 

"Well," Lana responded, wryly, sliding into a seat at the table they were sitting at. "He did get mine."

That had Chloe sitting straighter in her seat, wide eyes darting between her and Lois. And finding no answers from the latter, who was currently finding the floor very interesting, face slightly flushed. "What?" 

Lana opened her mouth to speak, but Lois beat her to it, taking a long gulp of her coffee. "Smallville got sick at football practice." 

"Well, is he okay?" Chloe demanded, shock and concern written across her face. "Why didn't anybody tell me before?" 

"At the time, you were wanting to slobber big wet ones on the guy," Lois quipped, causing Chloe to flush, then shrugged, averting her eyes. "Then the pep rally happened, and... I don't know." 

"He looked pretty bad," Lana interjected, softly, briefly dipping her gaze. "I couldn't get him to not worry about my shoes." 

"But you saw him," she pointed out, bringing her gaze back up to Chloe's worried one. "He's okay. It was probably just from getting hot or something." 

It was rather miraculous though, to see him looking completely normal after being so sick. But... stranger things had happened, and nothing really made sense with Clark Kent, anyway. 

"Yeah," Chloe responded, nodding seemingly to herself, likely having the same train of thought as Lana. "Yeah, I did. But next time, let a person know, okay? You scared me there for a second." 

At Lois's questioning glance, the blonde responded before Lana managed to, shifting uncomfortably. "Clark got really sick awhile back, then got really sick again."

Lana took a steadying breath at the memory, the blonde taking the words right out of her mouth as she added, quietly, "Kinda scared the hell out of everybody." 

It didn't matter how much bad blood had happened between her and Clark since then, she thanked God that hadn't happened again. 

And prayed it never would. 

Lois had fallen silent at Chloe's explanation, and at seeing the grimness of their expressions, looking speechless. Which wasn't a common thing to see on her. 

"Well, on that happy note," Chloe piped up, flashing a bright smile, letting out a shaky laugh as she stood. "I've gotta get to the Torch. See you ladies, later." 

"I-I should probably get going, too," Lois said, rising from her seat with a shrug. "Gotta get back to the Kent's." 

Lana waved at both of them as they went, watching the cousins make their way out the door, but not missing the way Lois's face fell when she must've thought no one was looking.

She'd looked more than concerned for Clark when Lana had found them at the field, and still when they'd been talking a minute ago. 

She'd practically lost color in her face when Chloe had mentioned Clark getting sick that one time, and Lana was sure she hasn't been the only one to notice. 

Neither of them might be willing to accept it, but she'd meant what she'd said to Clark when he'd been going off about Lois. 

The best ones always started that way.

Chapter Text

Martha wiped her mouth with her napkin, gathering her purse in her hands as she stood, leaning over to press a kiss to Jonathan's cheek. 

"I'll be right back," she said, smiling warmly at her husband. "Then we can go home." 

They hadn't had a night out together in what felt like so long, but it would feel good to get home, to see Clark- 

Yet her thoughts came to a stop as before she'd even taken a step towards the restroom, her phone started ringing. 

Martha shared an alarmed look with Jonathan, wondering who it could be.

If it was Clark... he never called without a reason, especially when they were out, and not without something being seriously wrong. 

Digging her phone out of her purse, Martha quickly pressed it to her ear, her voice shaking slightly. "Clark, honey, is that you-"

The sound of Clark's voice had her cutting herself off, his voice barely above a strained whisper. "M-Mom..." 

"Clark!" she gasped, the alarm likely showing on her face causing Jonathan to jump up from his seat, coming over to her to listen in. 

"J-Jeremiah...." Clark slurred off, sending a jolt of terror through her. 

"What did Jeremiah do?" Martha exclaimed, her heart hammering in her chest as Jonathan gripped her shoulder. "Baby? Baby, what's wrong? Say something!" 

Her breathing was loud in her ears, thoughts upon thoughts racing through her mind, all worse than the last. 

Something had happened to Clark. But what? What had Jeremiah done to her boy? 

Yet to both her and Jonathan's horror, the line then went dead, all without another reply by Clark. 

"Clark!" Martha cried, no doubt rousing people's attention. "Clark? Clark!" 

But no response came. Only silence. 

"Oh my God," she breathed, barely feeling the phone in her hand as she lowered it, meeting her husband's terror-filled gaze with her own. "Oh my God... Jonathan! Jonathan, we need to-" 

Jonathan responded by guiding her towards the door, his steadying hand at her back the only thing keeping her from going hysterical. 

"It's gonna be okay, Martha," he told her, holding the door open for her then rushing on beside her. "It's... it's gonna be okay." 

One of the things she loved most about her husband was how he kept her head above water in even the most stressful of situations, always calm at her side. 

But right then? She saw the fear, plain as day, in Jonathan's eyes, something he usually managed to hide for her sake. 

But not this time. 

Chapter Text

"There was no one in the world he'd rather watch a game with." 

Lois watched Clark take it in, her face falling as she saw watched his start to crumple, his eyes filling with tears. 

Chloe and Mrs. Kent saw it, too, their shoulders dropping at the sight. 

"C'mon, sweetie," Mrs. Kent said, putting on a smile for Clark's sake, rubbing his back. "What about some cake, huh?" 

But the damage had already been done. Clark shook his head, still staring down at the card his dad had left him. "No thanks, mom," he murmured, "I... uh, think I kinda lost my appetite." 

Mrs. Kent shot both her and Chloe a pleading look, all of them knowing it couldn't end like this. 

Lois liked to rail on him, but, though she would've never believed it, she'd taken the same bait that almost everyone in this town seemed to have done. She'd developed a soft spot for Clark Kent. 

And here was the poor guy, on his birthday, without his dad here to give him those tickets himself. 

Chloe only shrugged helplessly at Mrs. Kent, but Lois wasn't about to let this birthday go to waste. 

"Hey, you know I think you missed something," Lois piped up, plucking up the card, and bringing Clark's confused, sad blue eyes over to her. 

It nearly had her stopping, to see the tears that were right on the verge of slipping down Clark's cheeks, but she made sure her smile didn't slip as she scanned the card. 

"Ah, here it is," Lois said, pointing at an admittedly blank part of the card, but showing it to Clark, anyway. "See it's so tiny you've really gotta squint. It says..." 

She cleared her throat, "To Lois, cause, you know, he knew I'd be here, make sure that Clark has a piece of his birthday cake, which you worked so very hard on all day. Thanks, Mr. Kent." 

She lifted her gaze from the card, pulling her finger away, and was relieved to find a small, but definitely there, smile on Clark's face. 

"You've gotta have a piece, now, right?" Chloe chimed in, Lois and Mrs. Kent nodding in agreement. 

"Yeah," Clark responded, sniffling slightly, his voice just a bit brighter. "Yeah, I guess, I do." 

"That's right, sweetheart!" his mom encouraged, rubbing his back again as Chloe went to cut the cake. 

Mrs. Kent shot her a grateful look over Clark's shoulder after that, tears gleaming in her eyes. "Thank you," she mouthed. 

Lois nodded, smiling back, but knowing as she watched Clark, and saw that telling sadness still lingering in his smile that this birthday still hadn't been saved yet. 

XXX 

"Hey there, Smallville," Lois greeted softly, slowly coming up the loft's steps to find Clark bent over the journal she'd given him. 

"Pouring out some of those hidden feelings?" she asked, wryly, stepping over to him, her hands tucked behind her back. 

A slight smile graced Clark's face as he closed it, but didn't raise his head. "Yeah. Thanks, Lois." 

She'd spotted that already a few pages had been written in before he'd closed it, bringing a smile to her own face, even though it was a sad one. 

"You know..." Lois started, softly, taking a seat beside him, bumping his shoulder slightly. "You'll find it makes it a lot easier." 

"Make what easier?" Clark responded, quietly, despite clearly knowing what she was referring to. 

"Getting past it," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders, looking forward rather than at him. 

She drew in a shaky breath before continuing, knowing he needed to hear this. "After my mom died... I, uh, never really liked the idea of talking to her grave. I still did it, sometimes, but it made it feel too cold, too real. So, I... picked up a journal instead." 

Lois knew Clark had glanced up at her by this point, but she kept her gaze straight ahead as she went on, having to swallow past the lump in her throat. "And in it... I told her everything I would've told her if we were face to face. A bully I beat up for picking on my sister, how the General was taking it, and... advice for things I couldn't tell anybody else about." 

She faced him then, and saw rivulets of tears making their way down his face, one by one. "My mom was the hand on my shoulder that I thought would always be there, guiding me, and when it was taken away..." 

"You felt lost," Clark finished for her, shifting his gaze back down to the floor, his features crumpling again as a fresh wave of tears appeared in his eyes. 

Lois placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling him trembling beneath her touch, a tear of her own trickling down her cheek.

"But know that you're not alone, Clark. There's still people around to put a hand on your shoulder," she told him. Then when he didn't look up, added, unable to keep her voice from wavering slightly, "And people that know how much it hurts that it can't be your dad's hand." 

Taking her by surprise, Clark wrapped his arms around her at that, his sobs filling the air as he clutched her, burrowing his head in her neck. 

Lois held him just as tightly, staying silent as sob after sob tore through him, his body shaking against hers, his tears wetting her top. 

The General had had to have that same talk with her on her own birthday, a birthday that had ended in tears after being given a gift that her mother had left her. 

It had been a journal. 

Chapter Text

Clark blew out a breath, taking a second to rest his chin on the rake, feeling his arms shaking as they throbbed. 

Bailing hay was definitely easier with powers. 

He went to get back to it, gripping the rake once again, until a voice suddenly filled the air, one he hadn't counted on hearing for at least another month. 

"Hey, Smallville!" 

In fact, it was so sudden that it startled Clark into losing his balance, and before he knew what was happening, he was falling.

And felt it when pain went shooting up his leg, his ankle curling underneath him, in addition to the jarring impact of his back hitting the ground. 

"Clark!" Lois shouted, by his side in a flash, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Clark, oh my God, are you okay?" 

Clark was unable to answer her at first, the breath having been knocked out of him, causing him to gulp for air. 

After Lois had repeated "oh my God" for at least 5 times, gritting his teeth out of both annoyance and pain, Clark forced himself to start to sit up.

"L-Lois," he managed to get out, "shut up." 

"Okay, okay, okay," Lois said, her words tumbling out in a rush as she helped him to sit up, hands braced on either sides of him. "What hurts?" 

"My-My ankle," he bit out, squeezing his eyes shut as white hot pain radiated from it, ragged breaths leaving him. 

"Okay, okay," she responded, releasing him after giving his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "You just-just stay there. Stay. I'll go get your parents." 

"Not like I can go anywhere," Clark muttered, but she'd already shot off by the sound of rushing footsteps. 

It left Clark trying to focus on taking slow breaths, and willing for everything to stop spinning. 

He didn't know if this is how people usually reacted to this type of injury, but he felt like he was on the verge of passing out at any moment. 

Clark hadn't mentioned that to Lois though, of course, knowing she was already panicked enough, or just how much pain he was in. 

God... it hurt, dear God, did it hurt. 

If his ankle wasn't broken, which he highly doubted, it sure felt like it was. 

"Clark!" 

He cracked open his eyes to find his mom, dad, and Lois all rushing toward him, alarm written across all their faces. 

He must really look bad. 

"Clark, my God, you're pale as a sheet," his mom exclaimed, confirming his thoughts, her wide-eyed gaze roving over him. 

"Can you walk, son?" his dad asked, stepping past his mom and Lois to kneel down next to him. 

"I-I don't know," Clark admitted, his voice strained. "Maybe."

His dad threw his arm over his shoulder, wrapping his own steadily around Clark's waist, "Okay, one, two, three..." 

But Clark didn't even make it all the way to his feet before he saw stars, his vision tilting as blinding pain exploded in his ankle, bringing a yell of pain from him. 

"D-Dad, dad, it hurts," he cried out, tears springing to his eyes from the force of it, unable to keep whimpers of pain from leaving him. 

"Okay, it's okay, son," his dad told him, already moving to take him into his arms, but his voice was starting to sound far away. "We're gonna take you to the...." 

The last thing he saw was Lois startling forward, fear as clear as day in her eyes, and his name on her lips. 

Then nothing. 

XXX 

"Hey, Smallville... welcome back to the land of the living." 

Clark slowly opened his eyes, the faint beeping of a heart monitor greeting him as his vision eventually cleared, and discovered Lois sitting at his bedside. 

"Lois," Clark murmured, blinking as the grogginess finally fell away, his gaze shifting down to find his leg elevated on a pillow, wrapped in bandages. "What-What happened?" 

"Well, after you decided to head off to slumberland, we ended up here at the hospital," Lois explained, not wanting to meet his eyes for some reason. "Surprisingly, it's just a bad sprain, so you'll live." 

"Where's my parents?" he asked, after scanning the room for them. 

"Taking care of the paperwork," she responded, "then they can take you home." 

Clark nodded, and silence fell between them, Lois still, strangely, keeping from looking at him. 

"Lois..." he started, but was cut off as she abruptly raised her head, her words going at a million miles an hour as always.

"I know what you're gonna say, Clark, and you shouldn't. Everyone knows not to sneak up on somebody when they're up in a hay loft," she said, waving a hand, "I-I mean it's... it's pretty much common knowledge, like-like never walk under a ladder, or-" 

"Lois," Clark repeated, cutting off her rambling, her distressed gaze at last coming to rest on his. 

He put on a reassuring smile, needing, for whatever reason, to see that distress leave her face. "It was an accident. It's okay." 

"No, no, it's not, Clark," Lois refuted, however, the slightest sheen of tears shining in her eyes. "Because you could've gotten a lot worse than a sore ankle. Really, really worse. And... it would've been my fault." 

Clark let her words sink in, silence once again briefly reigning, with Lois once again dropping her gaze. 

As feisty as she was, she was gonna let him give it to her this time. No complaints. 

Sometimes, he really did wanna give it to her, especially when she got on his nerves particularly badly. But right then... it was the farthest thing in his mind. 

"Lois," Clark whispered, and hesitantly, she raised her gaze, her brown eyes uncertain. "I'm not mad at you." 

Shock rippled across her face, her jaw almost dropping. "Y-You're not?" 

Pulling himself up into more of a sitting position, he couldn't keep the wince from his face when it sent a twinge through his ankle, which Lois, of course, caught. 

At seeing her face fall, Clark quickly went on, "Even if... it had went bad, I still wouldn't be mad. It was just one of those things, it's part of living on a farm." 

Lois slowly took his words in, surprise flashing across her face this time, as well as what looked to be the signs that she was touched, her eyes turning tender.

"So... no bad blood?" she asked after a moment, though no longer looking at him as if she was too ashamed to. 

"No bad blood," Clark promised, a swell of happiness filling his chest that he couldn't figure out what it had come from. 

Her eyes met his, somehow warmer looking in this light, warmer than he'd ever seen them. 

"But... you know," Clark said, quickly, when the force of her gaze had started to become too much. "I'm probably not gonna be able to walk for awhile, and somebody's gonna have to do my chores." 

He glanced sideways at her, a sly grin forming on his face as it did on hers, mock outrage soon filling her features. 

She punched him in the arm, which he'd been hoping for her to do, but still cried out, "Hey!" 

"You've got big dreams if you think that, buddy," Lois shot back, before her eyes drifted away from his. "...unless your dad asks me to, of course." 

"Of course," Clark responded, his grin widening as he added, "because it wouldn't be that you cared about me... right?" 

Lois scoffed, rolling her eyes as she stood to her feet. "If you're thinking that, I think I need to go ask these doctors just what they gave you for the pain, Smallville." 

But Clark had seen the terror in her eyes right before he'd passed out, and he had a feeling that both of them knew, deep down... that she did. 

And maybe... maybe, he cared about her, too. 

Chapter Text

"I'm all right," Clark said, forcing himself to pull away, but not succeeding in keeping all the strain from his voice. 

When he'd collapsed, a jar of kryptonite had shattered onto him, embedding a shard right into his side. 

It'd went so far into his side that it kept it from being seen by anybody, including Oliver. And Clark intended to keep it that way. 

"You sure?" Oliver asked, running a skeptical eye over his face as he pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Green Arrow to Watchtower. Boy Scout's out of the woods." 

Despite the way his vision was currently spinning, Clark sent an incredulous look towards Oliver. "Boy Scout?" 

"If you hadn't ran off, you could've picked your code name," Oliver shot back. "You don't want to play for the team, that's fine. Be smart about it." 

"Point taken," Clark said, hotly, but not about to deny the fact the other man was right. That, and he was in no condition to start arguing.

He was really in no condition to be upright either, but he'd gotten himself into this by jumping the gun, he still had to rescue Bart. 

He had to. Even though... it was starting to get hard to think. And even harder to keep the pain from his face as he met Oliver's gaze. 

"Where's Bart?" 

"Impulse," Oliver corrected him, wryly. "He didn't get to his own codename either. Watchtower will guide you to where he's probably being held." 

The other man started to make his way down the hall, so Clark called after him, forcing his voice not to shake, "What will you be doing?" 

Oliver turned to grin at him, switching his voice modulation back on. "What I do best." 

And Clark had to do what he did best, which was save one of his friends. Even if it cost him. 

XXX 

By the time Clark had rescued Bart, and rejoined the rest of the team, he was going off of sheer will. 

But he had to keep going. They weren't out yet. 

It didn't matter that he felt like he could collapse at any second, that his side was hurting him so badly it was taking everything in him not to scream. 

He could make it... he could. 

It was starting to sound more like a hopeful wish rather than a real possibility. 

"...The last heat signatures are moving away from the North." 

Clark snapped back to attention at Chloe's voice in his ear, his gaze darting to Oliver in alarm. "Wait a second. What are you doing?" 

"What do you think I'm doing?" Oliver demanded. "You want more of your friends to end up in here?" 

"Yeah, I'm voting no on that one," Bart chimed in. 

Clark could barely pull his thoughts together, but this was serious. This was either something he'd have to put a stop to, or... be a part of.

"Watchtower, are you sure everyone's out of the building?" 

"100% positive," Chloe responded through his earpiece, and he took a moment to study Oliver, to take in everything he'd seen from the other man. 

He may not have always agreed with Oliver, but... he was a good guy, and someone that, he believed, was knocking some deserved sense into him. 

It looked like he was gonna be a part of it. 

"All right," Clark said, and he felt something like real trust start to form between him and Oliver. "Let's do it." 

XXX 

He managed to walk out with the rest of the team while the lab exploded behind them, then... he couldn't take it anymore.

He collapsed. 

"Clark? Clark?" Oliver exclaimed when Clark suddenly slumped against him, quickly wrapping an arm around his waist, and eliciting a cry of pain from him. 

Immediately, Victor, A.C., and Bart came to attention, rushing over to Clark as Oliver carefully lowered him to the ground. 

"Woah, amigo, you don't look so hot," Bart cried, as Clark squeezed his eyes shut, writhing in pain as agony coarsed through him. 

"Where you hurt, man?" Victor asked him, kneeling down next to him, while Oliver tuned into Chloe, his voice tight with anxiety. "Watchtower, I thought Boy Scout was out of the woods... looks like we got snagged on a branch or two." 

"Kryptonite..." Clark managed to get out, his breath coming out in ragged pants. Now, that he was letting it show, he was feeling the full force of the pain. All of it. "In... my side..." 

Wasting no time, Oliver yanked away his jacket, pulling away his shirt, and Clark didn't miss the way his hand fell back. 

When he cracked open his eyes, he found the other man's face slack with shock, and undeniable fear in his wide brown eyes. "Shit," Oliver swore, "shit, Clark. Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Had to... rescue Bart," Clark rasped, swallowing heavily against the wave of nausea rising in his throat.

Bart stared down at him, distress mixed with guilt written across his face. "Amigo..." 

"Yeah, we're gonna get it out," Oliver said, finger pressed to his earpiece, responding to Chloe since Clark had deactivated his, gaze never leaving him. 

"A.C.," Oliver said, gesturing the other man over. "You're gonna have to hold him down. Clark... this is gonna hurt like hell, man. I'm sorry." 

"Just-Just do it," Clark got out, trying his best to steel himself against the misery sure to come as A.C. gripped him tightly. 

"One... two..." Oliver counted down, fingers clutching the tip of the kryptonite shard, fingers that Clark caught sight of trembling. 

"Three." 

It turned out he wasn't nearly prepared. 

A scream tore loose from Clark from deep within as he felt the shard being ripped out, and he jerked against A.C.'s hold, arcing his back. 

Blood that he felt instantly was pooling around him, soaking his clothes. 

Pain... pain... there was so much pain. More pain than Clark ever remembered feeling. 

Another yell came from him amidst what was quickly becoming the distant sounding voice of Oliver trying to calm him. "Clark... Clark, can you hear me? Clark..." 

As he felt himself slip into darkness, Clark told himself it wasn't so bad. He'd rescued Bart, helped blow up Lex's lab, finally did some good for the world. 

At least he'd get to see his dad again. He'd get to meet his birth parents, too. 

XXX 

Oliver was well past panicking, he was full on freaking out. 

After A.C. resurfaced from Clark having thrown him clear off the island, they'd given him Clark to carry as they'd rushed back to Oliver's apartment. 

This was not how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to have waltzed out of that place scot-free, the only one having a stress meltdown being Lex. 

Instead, Clark was unconscious in A.C.'s arms, and Oliver was the one having the stress meltdown. 

"Can't this elevator go any faster?" Oliver snapped, wanting more than anything to look at something else, but unable to tear his gaze away from Clark's prone form. 

Now, more than just his jacket, his shirt was stained red, the brightest thing on Clark to compare with his ashen features. 

"He's gonna be okay, Ollie," Victor spoke up, quietly, from beside A.C. "The bleeding already stopped." 

Oliver glanced at Victor, but didn't reply, just kept his eyes on Clark, his head lolled against A.C.'s chest, as the elevator at last came to a halt.

Unsurprisingly, Chloe pulled the elevator open immediately, her wide eyes instantly finding Clark. "Oh my God." 

"The wound closed," Oliver told her as everyone stepped out, A.C. carrying Clark over to the couch. "But he's still unconscious. I mean- is that- normal? For... him?" 

"Yeah, it's normal," Chloe responded, her face falling at seeing just how much blood was on Clark. "We just have to wait for him to wake up. And he... should be fine." 

"Should be?" Oliver exclaimed, the rest of the team exchanging uncertain looks. Bart seemed to be taking the worst of it, barely having been able to look at Clark the whole time. 

Oliver knew he should be taking Bart aside, reassure him that it wasn't his fault, but he just didn't have it in him. 

"I don't know!" Chloe burst out, looking as helpless as Oliver felt as she took Clark's jacket off of him, who didn't even make a move to suggest he felt it. "I've... never seen him like this." 

Neither had Oliver, and he really didn't want to see it again. When Clark had collapsed against him... they'd came out of there on such a high, Oliver had never expected something like that to happen. 

And for it to happen to Clark? The guy was like... the ultimate goody too shoes, with morals that Oliver knew he could never live up to. 

He was what a hero should be. 

Oliver had known, known something was off with Clark, that he didn't look quite right, but he'd been so focused on the mission... 

Stupid, Oliver scolded himself, stupid. 

The rest of the boys wandered around the room, looking for something to do, but unable to take their attention away from the unconscious form on the couch. 

They'd all taken a punch to the gut. Not only was the strongest of them down, but... maybe the best of them, too. 

"How long... how long should it, uh, take?" Bart interrupted the somber silence that had fallen over them all, asking the question that was reverberating around Oliver's head. 

"A few hours, probably," Chloe answered, grimly, swiping a hand under her nose as she sniffled. "Maybe longer." 

Oliver lowered himself down beside where Chloe sat on the couch, his gaze studying Clark's pale face again as if it would change anything. 

He just wanted the guy to wake up, to open his eyes, so Oliver could tell him he was sorry for dragging him into this. 

He'd pushed Clark to do something, to do more. And look where it'd got him. 

Oliver wanted to blame this on Luthor, but it was his fault, and his alone. 

"Well, then," Oliver said, not having to look at the rest of the team to know they agreed with what he was about to say. "We'll stay right here and wait." 

XXX 

Clark opened his eyes slowly, expecting to feel that all-encompassing pain again, but only feeling a slight dizziness as his eyes landed on the row of blurred faces leaning over him. 

They slowly came into focus to be revealed as the team, and Chloe. "Welcome back, man," A.C. greeted him with a grin, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. 

Clark jumped slightly, still trying to gain his bearings as he took in everyone else. "You scared the shit out of us," Victor added in, giving him a more subdued squeeze of the shoulder. "Glad to see you in one piece." 

He then moved away with A.C, giving Clark some space, and leaving him with Bart, Oliver, and Chloe, all who had yet to speak. 

Clark cleared his throat, shifting into more of an upright position, only to have Oliver's hand shooting out to stall him. "Woah, should he be doing that?" he asked, aiming the question at Chloe. 

"He's fine," she replied, her anxious eyes flitting back to Clark. "Now, at least." 

Hesitantly, Oliver released him, and Clark grimaced, knowing by everyone's faces that Victor hadn't been exaggerating. "I'm sorry, guys," he murmured, "for scaring you so bad." 

"No, I'm sorry," Bart interjected, a sheen of tears unexpectedly shining in his eyes as he seemingly forced himself to meet Clark's. "You were rescuing me, amigo... it's my fault." 

Clark's gaze shifted to Oliver's, seeing the other man avert his eyes, and knew the blame game was going around. Something he was all too familiar with. 

"It's none of your faults," he said, making sure to be loud enough for everyone to hear, and making sure to meet all of their gazes. "I decided to go in alone, I brought this on myself. You guys saved me." 

That seemed to ease everyone down a bit, all except Oliver. 

"Oliver," Clark grabbed the other man's hand when he went to turn away, earnest blue eyes meeting guilt ridden brown ones. "You were right, about everything. This was something I needed to do, and if this was the push I had to get... that's okay." 

It took a long moment, Oliver searching his gaze for a single sign of doubt, and upon finding none, finally nodded. 

Now, that that was cleared away, Chloe took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Clark's neck, squeezing him tightly. "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay? You almost gave me a heart attack." 

Clark squeezed her back just as tightly, knowing he couldn't promise something like that would never happen again, but also knowing that Chloe was aware of that. 

He stood up from the couch, with Chloe's steadying hand on his arm when he swayed just slightly, and gave Oliver a nod. 

The other man understood that Clark was willing to take the risk, and that the world needed all the help it could get... from all of them. 

"All right!" Bart said, grin back in full force. "How about some pizza? Cause I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving!" 

Laughter filled the room, and as Clark looked around at their team, he knew this was something to be a part of. Something good.

Chapter Text

Lana ducked into a corner of the library, sending a cursory glance around her before dialing the number and pressing her phone to her ear. 

"Mrs. Kent?" 

In response to her whisper, came the voice of Clark's mom, filled with confusion. "Lana? Is that you?" 

"Y-Yes, yes," Lana breathed, her eyes wide. "I just... I just wanted to make sure Clark was all right? I-I'm not really sure what happened, but-" 

"He's a bit shaken up, but he's gonna be fine, Lana," Mrs. Kent replied, seeming to hesitate before continuing. "I... I hope you know that wasn't him. He and Lois were infected with something, and-" 

It was Lana's turn to reassure, this time. "I know that, Mrs. Kent. I know Clark... wasn't himself." 

She wasn't sure what she knew after seeing what had happened to that chisel. But she knew that she would keep that to herself. 

"You do, huh?" 

Lana whirled around at the sound of Lex's voice, finding him standing in the doorway. 

Her heart hammering, she quickly told Mrs. Kent, "I have to go. Goodnight, Mrs. Kent..."

Then, despite Lex standing there, watching her, she added before ending the call, "Tell Clark I said goodnight." 

"Tell Clark I said goodnight?" Lex repeated, tightly, making his way into the room. 

"Yes," Lana responded, wrapping her arms around herself as she averted her eyes. "I wanted to see if he was all right." 

"All right?" Lex all but demanded, "Lana, he pushed me against a wall." 

"After you pulled a gun on him," she fired back, lifting her gaze to meet Lex's. "What were you gonna do, Lex? Shoot him in cold blood? Murder Clark Kent?" 

Lex didn't answer her for the longest time, and that in itself told her everything. "If I had to," he eventually said, his jaw clenched. 

"Lex," Lana said, her voice tightly controlled, "I shouldn't be made to feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar for checking on one of my friends." 

"He's still your friend?" Lex asked, incredulously, slowly stepping forward until they were face to face. "After everything he's done to you?" 

She closed her eyes briefly, having to rein in her emotions before locking eyes with Lex, her eyes flashing. "I don't know how it is with the Luthors, but I wasn't raised to abandon my friends that easily. And Clark is still one of them." 

She swept past Lex, heading to exit the library, but stopped. "Just so you know, Lex, if you had shot him, this marriage may not be happening." 

With that, Lana left Lex standing there to take in her words, while she tried to take in the full meaning of them herself. 

Chapter Text

Chloe took a sip of her cappuccino, glancing around the Talon, and lowering her cup when it landed on one particular customer. 

"Hey, Clark-" the blonde started to say, making her way towards him, but stopping in her tracks as he turned, only to have a server run smack dab into him. 

And spilling what looked to be two mocha frappuccinos all over him. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the server gasped, staring, open-mouthed, as Clark tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe whipped cream and chocolate sauce off his once blue shirt. 

Chloe saw his jaw clench, his gaze sharp as he released a heavy sigh, shaking off his dripping hands. 

"It's fine," he said, roughly, already striding towards the door, but she knew it wasn't. 

Not the coffee, no, that had just been the icing on the cake, it wasn't what was wrong. 

"You know," Chloe said, following him out onto the street, his back facing her as he stopped. "A good wash or two ought to get that stain right out." 

For a moment, he didn't move, didn't react to her words. Then his shoulders dropped, "Chloe..." 

The blonde stepped forward, reaching out a gentle hand to turn him around, and being greeted by a pair of sad blue eyes. 

It was a turn of the tables that Chloe had never wanted to witness. When she'd first met Clark, it was like she'd met sunshine itself. 

A grin had always been on that face, as synonymous with Clark Kent as his endearing affinity for clumsiness. 

Lately... she hadn't seen a sign of that smile. A storm cloud had covered that sun, and it was far past due to pass. 

"Clark," Chloe said softly, "I know life isn't very nice right now, but-" 

"My dad's gone, Chloe," Clark snapped, but she knew it wasn't her that he was angry at. "And I've gotta see my mom get up every morning with tears in her eyes. All because of me." 

The blonde could only stare at him for a moment, quickly shaking her head. "Clark, you can't possibly think your dad wouldn't have gladly laid down his life for you!" 

"But he didn't even get to decide!" Clark burst out, chest heaving, his eyes turning glossy as his voice started to waver. "I-I decided for him." 

"And he would've made that decision!" Chloe cried, putting a hand on his shoulder when he tried to look away. "Clark..." 

Her tone softened as she looked directly at him, even though he wouldn't meet her eyes. "What's it gonna take for you to accept that people want to save you as much you want to save them?" 

Clark's gaze shot up to hers, shock written across his face, and she knew she'd chipped a small hole into that steel wall he had up. 

Despite it, he pulled away from her, turning to go down the street. "You don't understand, Chloe," he murmured, then sped off. 

It left the blonde to stare after him, a sigh escaping her as her face fell. 

It was something investigative journaling would never be able to answer. 

Just why heroes had to suffer more than everyone else. 

Chapter Text

Chloe wandered into the barn, on the hunt for Clark after his mom had sent her to find him. 

Though she'd never experienced a parent dying, and wasn't about to claim she knew at all what it was like, she'd been devastated after her mom had left. 

It had taken more than a stack of pancakes every morning for her dad to get her past it. 

So, God knew Clark needed some cheering up.

But just as she was about to advance up the stairs to the loft, the sound of sobbing reached her ears. Clark sobbing. 

Hurrying up the stairs now, the blonde stopped in her tracks to find none other than Lois holding Clark in her arms, gently rubbing his back. 

"I know, I know," Lois murmured, her head tilted down so that she couldn't see the blonde, as he let out a sob that shot right through Chloe's heart. "It's gonna be okay." 

Now, not too long ago, a sight like that would've made jealousy flare in Chloe's chest. 

But right then, the flare didn't come. She'd always love Clark, she knew that, and some small, undeniable part of her still wished he'd be with her. 

Probably always would. 

Things were different now, though, she knew his secret, and they'd became more close than they'd been for years. 

It felt like how they'd been when they were kids, before high school, and the blonde had thought it would never feel like that again. 

It was something she'd never trade for anything. 

After seeing how brokenhearted he'd been with his dad and Lana, she was just glad that he was finally able to let it all out, and that someone was there to hold him.

 And if that person was Lois, she was glad for that, too. 

A smile spreading across her face, the blonde turned to descend the stairs, sure to not make a noise. 

She could tell Mrs. Kent that Clark was getting the comfort he needed. 

Chapter Text

"I think he's coming around." 

Martha and Jonathan both jumped up from the dining table, hurrying over to their son as he started to sit up. 

"No, no, baby, stay still," Martha quickly said, putting a halting hand on Clark's shoulder, exchanging a worried look with her husband. "He needs to lie down on the couch." 

"N-No," Clark spoke up, however, trying once again to sit up, his voice breathless. "I... I need to find Van." 

"What you need is to rest, son," Jonathan cut in, putting a firm hand on the teen's other shoulder. "Just because you're healed, doesn't mean you don't need rest. How do you feel?" 

"A little... woozy," Clark slurred, before suddenly falling slack against them, bringing a gasp from Martha. 

"You still with us, son?" Jonathan exclaimed, meeting her alarmed gaze, gripping Clark's shoulder. 

"Everything's... spinning..." Clark murmured, his eyes only half-open as his head started to loll. 

Martha stared, beseechingly, at her husband, her heart pounding in her chest to see their son in such a way. 

Any injury that Clark got was uncharted territory for both of them, and this... this was the worst he'd ever had. 

Who knew what could be happening inside his body? Maybe it only seemed like the wound was healed, but on the inside... there was still damage? 

Lord knew that she didn't have any problems with where Clark had came from, but this was her only qualm. 

Any wince, any cry of pain that came from him set off sirens in Martha's mind, because it meant something had hurt him. And this time, it was bad. 

The sound of him screaming, her baby... it was a sound that would haunt her dreams. 

"Let's get him on the couch," Jonathan told her, and she jerked a nod, stepping aside as he hefted Clark into his arms, the lack of protests coming from the teen only scaring her more. 

His eyes were still open, barely, but he was pretty out of it by the looks of it, his dark head resting against Jonathan's chest. 

And it terrified her. 

Quickly scooping up the pillow and blanket from the floor, she made sure to have the couch ready as her husband carefully deposited Clark onto it, pulling off his shirt and boots. 

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me?" Martha whispered, immediately hovering over the teen, stroking his hair back as Jonathan draped the blanket over him. 

Clark only moaned in response, his eyes drifting shut completely now as he curled onto his side, burrowing into the blanket. 

"He just needs rest, sweetheart," Jonathan told her softly, standing behind her, watching as Clark's chest fell and rose in even breaths. "I had a feeling his body still had some healing to do, it took a lot out of him." 

Martha looked away from Clark, just for a moment, to lock eyes with her husband, tears welling in hers. "I-" 

Before she could finish, however, a knock suddenly came from the door, causing both their gazes to snap to it. 

After glancing back at Clark, and finding him still fast asleep, she followed Jonathan to the door, finding Sheriff Adams on their porch, a police squadron behind her. 

"Mister and Mrs. Kent," she greeted them, eyes darting behind them. "Is Clark alright?" 

Martha shared a surprised look with her husband. What was going on? 

"Yeah, Clark's fine," Jonathan replied, which Martha silently assured herself of once more. "Why, Sheriff?" 

The sheriff took a step farther inside, glancing around until her gaze landed on Clark's prone form on the couch. 

"Well," she said, brows raised, as she faced them once more. "Rumors of your boy's death has been greatly exaggerated." 

Martha felt it as her jaw fell slack, equal shock mirrored on Jonathan's face, while the sheriff looked around once more, her attention straying to where Clark's bloodied shirt still rested on the stair railing. 

"Are you sure everything's alright?" she asked them, warily, and Martha tried to collect herself, Jonathan finding his voice first. "Oh, yeah," he answered, gaze shifting to the shirt. "It was a barbed wire accident." 

Martha felt relief fill her that he'd replied first, because she didn't think she'd be able to come up with an excuse right then. 

It had been a hard day for her nerves, and hearing about Clark's supposed death hadn't helped her feel any better. 

"Who said those things about Clark?" Martha asked, bringing the sheriff's attention to her, still finding it difficult to wrap her head around it. 

"Dispatch received a call that your son had been murdered," the woman responded, and Martha had to grip Jonathan's hand at the words, at what could've been the truth. 

Her boy very well could've been murdered that day. It was a thought that sent ice through her bones.  

As soon as the sheriff left, she'd check on him again. She had to feel him still breathing, to remind herself one more time that that wasn't what had happened. 

"Who would make a call like that?" Martha exclaimed, aghast, feeling Jonathan squeeze her hand. 

"Beats the heck out of me," the sheriff sighed, gritting her teeth. "I don't appreciate prank calls, especially in the middle of a manhunt." 

But that still didn't answer the question. Who had done that? And why? 

"Well, since he's all right, I'll be heading on," the sheriff told them, pressing her radio to her ear as she stepped past them out the door. "All clear at the Kent farm." 

As soon as the door fell shut, Martha turned to check on Clark again, Jonathan behind her, but discovered an empty couch before them. 

Clark must've woken up and rushed off. To find Van. 

"Oh my God," she breathed, gawking at where their son had just been. "He-" 

"Is gonna do what he has to," Jonathan interjected, his voice resigned, as he put a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be all right, Martha." 

After having one of her deepest fears spoken aloud by the sheriff... she prayed he would be. 

Chapter Text

After the truck hadn't moved again, Jonathan sighed. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with Clark messing around. 

"Clark," he said, exasperatedly, stepping out of the truck. "Come on, son, we don't have time to-" 

He cut himself off, however, at the sight of Clark sprawled across the mud, blood dripping from his nose. 

All anger instantly evaporating, he hurriedly kneeled by his son, worry flaring in his chest. "What happened?"

Clark stared up at him, his blue eyes wide and frightened as he pressed his wrist to his nose. "I-I don't know." 

"Well, c'mon," Jonathan said, pushing his worry down the best he could for the moment, pulling Clark's arm over his shoulders as he put a hand on his waist. "Let's get you up." 

Clark staggered up beside him, shivers wracking his trembling form, and Jonathan wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they made their way to the house, rubbing a hand up and down the teen's arm. "You alright, son?" 

"I... I don't feel very good, dad," Clark admitted, sending a spike of fear up Jonathan's spine, his teeth near chattering. 

"Here, Clark," he tugged his son's mud-stained coat off, before taking off his own to tuck around the teen's shoulders. 

"D-Dad, you didn't have to-" Clark started to object, despite clutching the coat around him, and Jonathan patted his back, keeping his hand there as they went up the steps. 

"You're freezing, Clark, it's fine," he told his son, guiding him over to the railing to sit down. 

Jonathan leaned down to look Clark directly in the eyes, cupping his face, and feeling his anxiety start to rise at how pale it was. 

"Now, I'm gonna go get your mom to grab you a fresh coat, you gonna be okay?" he asked, sure to keep his voice steady and calm. "Tell me the truth, son." 

"I just..." Clark dipped his gaze, swallowing thickly. "I feel... kinda sick. And shaky." 

Jonathan forced his concern not to show on his face, even as he felt his heart start to race. "Okay, it's alright," he replied, fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Hold this to your nose, okay? Hang on." 

Clark nodded, doing as told, and Jonathan hurried inside. "Martha?" 

His wife soon appeared at the top of the stairs, giving him a smile. "Yes, sweetheart?" 

He paused, yet to take in what was happening, much less sure how to explain. "I need you to get Clark a fresh coat... he fell in the mud." 

Immediately, her smile fell, replaced by the concern he felt. "Fell?" she exclaimed, now swiftly descending the stairs. "What's wrong? What happened?" 

Jonathan sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "I'm not sure, sweetheart. He's out on the porch, says he's feeling sick." 

Martha's face only fell further, her eyes wide. "Oh my God," she breathed, quickly turning to head upstairs. "I-I'll be right there." 

Not wasting a second, Jonathan hurried back out onto the porch, finding Clark right where he'd left him, handkerchief still pressed to his nose. 

"You still doing okay, son?" Jonathan made his way over to where the teen sat, coming over to put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Y-Yeah," Clark stammered out, and Jonathan gave his shoulder a light squeeze, right before Martha came hurrying out to them, coat in hand. 

"Here's a clean coat, sweetie," she cooed, coming over to wrap Clark into a hug, then caressing his face as she studied him, worriedly. "You feeling better, now?" 

Clark nodded, pulling off Jonathan's coat to put on his. "I still feel a little bad. I just don't understand what's wrong with me. Why am I bleeding? Why feel sick?" 

He looked between them, searchingly, but neither of them had much of an answer. 

"Maybe it's just part of your development, like x-ray vision," Martha offered as explanation, looking as lost as Jonathan was. "Or maybe the lightning had something to do with it. I don't know." 

Jonathan hoped it was just part of Clark's development, but... he had a feeling it wasn't. He only prayed it wasn't gonna last. 

"I am gonna be okay, right?" Clark asked, hesitantly, and Jonathan resisted from sharing an uneasy look with Martha. 

Instead of telling their son that they had no idea, he opted to say, "What you ought to do right now is go to school, and if anything happens, or gets worse, give us a call." 

Clark stood from the railing, stepping down the porch stairs, but paused. "You know, it's weird.... I've never worried about getting sick before." 

Jonathan and Martha hadn't worried about that, either. 

Unable to stop themselves this time, he exchanged a look with his wife, knowing both of them were equally as worried. 

"If you start to feel sick again, call us, okay, baby?" Martha answered, and Clark nodded, his features unsure. 

At spotting the bus heading off, Jonathan jutted his chin toward it. "You just missed your bus. You better hurry." 

Clark went to run after the bus, as always, yet slowed to a stop, causing Jonathan's brows to furrow. "Something wrong?" 

Clark looked back at them, that frightened look from earlier reappearing on his face. "My speed's gone, too." 

Jonathan's gaze shot to Martha's, and what she said next was the one thing that didn't come as unexpected. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't said it in the first place. 

"We'll drive you, sweetheart," she told Clark, already moving to go down the steps. "I'll feel better about it, anyway." 

Chapter Text

"Someone's up early," Martha greeted, making her way into the kitchen to start breakfast, but already finding Clark there, sitting silently. "Did you sleep good, sweetie?" 

"Yeah, fine," Clark murmured, staring down at his hands, but she knew by the heaviness to his eyes that it was the opposite. In fact, it looked the teen hadn't slept at all. 

"Well..." Martha stepped closer to where he was sitting, her eyes roving over him, trying for a cheerful tone. "Do you want some breakfast, sweetheart?" 

But, much to her dismay, Clark didn't look up at her, his voice as quiet as before as he replied, "No thanks, mom." 

Now, like any mother should, Martha knew her child, and therefore she knew when something wasn't right. 

It'd only been a few days since he'd came back from Metropolis, and to say she was still on pins and needles was an understatement. 

He'd been gone for three months... her baby gone for three whole months. It had been the first time she hadn't seen her son every day. 

It was the greatest torment she'd ever known, and she never wanted to go through it again.

But... she feared she may still. Clark had said he was gonna stay in Smallville, but she hadn't yet been able to be rid of the fear that she'd wake up one day and he'd just be gone. 

"What's wrong, baby?" Martha asked, softly, reaching to brush his hair back, and felt a pang shoot through her when Clark turned his head away, squeezing his eyes briefly shut. 

"Clark, sweetheart, please," she pleaded, grasping his shoulder gently. "Tell me what's wrong. Are you alright?" 

For a moment, Martha thought he might look up at her, tell her, his head turned, but then he stood up, his back to her. "I should, uh, get started on my chores." 

"But, sweetie-" Martha started to say, but was cut off as he sped out the door. 

"He's sure getting an early start. Did he already have breakfast?" 

Martha whirled around to find Jonathan descending the stairs, amused smile on his face that quickly dropped when she sighed, her shoulders falling. "No, he didn't have any at all. No sleep either."

"What?" Jonathan asked, crossing over to her, brows furrowed in concern. "Well, is he alright?" 

"Physically, I think so," Martha responded, resisting another sigh, then locked gazes with her husband. "When I went to stroke his hair, he turned away from me. He... he never does that." 

Fear filled her then, sharp and fierce. "Oh, Jonathan," she cried, tears welling in her eyes. "Do you think he's leaving again?" 

Her husband's eyes flicked towards the door, apprehension fleetingly appearing in his eyes. "No, no, I don't think so, sweetheart," he replied, then gave her shoulder a squeeze before heading to the door. "I'm gonna go out and talk to him." 

He offered her a smile of reassurance, then stepped out, leaving Martha to pray that he was right. 

XXX 

When she'd called him baby.... Clark squeezed his eyes shut once again at the memory, his grip tightening on the horse's reins.

It'd only made him remember the baby that she'd lost. Because of him. 

So much suffering had been caused because of him. Lana's parents, the baby... he'd never forget the sound of his mother sobbing in the hospital room. 

Maybe he should've never came back to Smallville at all. 

"How you doing, son? Your mother told me you skipped breakfast." 

Clark opened his eyes, not turning to look at his dad as he went back to brushing the horse down beside him. "I wasn't hungry." 

He kept his gaze trained on the horse even as his dad made his way over to him, resting a light hand on his shoulder. "She's worried about you. Thinks you're thinking of going back to Metropolis. Is that true, Clark?" 

At last, Clark stopped brushing down the horse, his hand stilling as he let out a breath, dipping his head. He hadn't missed the hesitancy to his dad's voice, but he couldn't deny that it was partially true. 

He didn't want to go, but... to have his mom smile at him, call him baby, to treat him the same as ever... he didn't deserve to be treated the same. 

"I don't know," Clark eventually admitted, moving to step away, until his dad tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Clark, what's going on?" 

Clark hesitated, releasing a sigh, and the older man added, "C'mon, son, you can tell me." 

"It's my fault," he said, quietly. He had to say it, if he didn't, it was gonna eat him alive. 

"What is, Clark?" his dad asked, and finally, Clark faced him, his eyes glossy with tears.

"Everything, dad," he nearly sobbed, his body trembling as he met his dad's gaze, whose face fell. "The meteor shower, the baby-" 

"The baby?" his dad shook his head. "Clark, that wasn't your fault-" 

"Wasn't it?" Clark cried, hot tears now filling his eyes so much that he had to let them fall. "Dad... dad, I saw you," he went on, his voice close to breaking as he remembered the conversation. "You looked at me... with such disgust, like... like I was an alien." 

As he finished, he dropped his gaze, unable to look his dad in the eyes for another second now that he'd finally said it. 

The way his dad had looked at him.... it was like he'd at last looked at him the way Clark had always feared. And he hadn't been able to let go of that sight. Only the red kryptonite had kept the memory from his mind all those months. 

Now, that he was back home, he hadn't been able to think of anything else. It'd kept him up every night. He'd only just now started getting tired enough for his mom to notice.

His dad swallowed hard, and it had Clark raising his gaze to find the older man's eyes equally filled with a sheen of tears. At the thought of the baby. Tears that Clark had caused. 

He almost looked down again, before his mom's voice had his gaze shooting to the other side of the barn where she stood, her eyes shining with tears. 

"Clark... Clark, oh baby," she whispered, hurrying forward to stroke his hair back, and this time, he couldn't help but lean into her touch. "Your father was in shock. We... we would never blame you, sweetheart."

Yet Clark found himself pulling away from her next, meeting both his parents' gazes now as his features crumpled. "But you can't say it never came to your minds," he choked out, his eyes darting across their faces beseechingly. "That... that you wouldn't have rather had a normal child." 

Their expressions were stricken at his words, but after holding it all in for so long, he couldn't keep it back any longer. 

"One that didn't put your lives in danger, one that didn't make you have to keep secrets," Clark insisted, his sobs growing louder with each word. "One-One that wasn't an alien-"

Cutting off his tear-filled ramble, his parents now both pulled him in for a hug, holding onto him tightly. "Son," his dad said, swallowing hard, before continuing, "the day you came into our lives was nothing short of a miracle. I wouldn't trade you for any other child in this world." 

Clark sniffled, having wanted to hear those words for so long that he hardly knew to believe them or not. 

"Sweetheart..." his mom murmured, pulling back to wipe the tears off his cheek with her thumb, smiling sadly. "You would've always been my baby, whether... whether we had another or not. And you still are." 

That fear that had gripped Clark wanted to refute it, wanted to not believe her words, but as neither of his parents looked away, that fear went quiet. 

"Now," his mom said, after he'd nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Let's all go have some breakfast, okay? Blueberry pancakes sound good?" 

A grin spread across Clark's face as his dad threw an arm over his shoulders, leading him to the house after his mom. "Yeah, mom, that sounds great." 

Chapter Text

A scream tore loose from Clark's chest as the kryptonite glowed brighter around him, and bringing with it utter agony. 

Then, just before it encompassed him completely, through blurred vision, he saw as the door to the lab burst open, Kara soon flying in. 

It was a miracle if Clark had ever saw one, and just in time. 

Using the last of his strength, he stretched a shaking hand towards the controls.

Kara, thankfully, realized what he was doing, and immediately directed her heat vision towards it, destroying it. 

And not a moment too soon. 

For as soon as the green glow of kryptonite around him disappeared, he collapsed against the floor of the cage, tendrils of pain still radiating from his body. 

"Clark!" he heard Kara shout, though it sounded as if she was one million miles away, throwing the cage surrounding him back. 

"Clark, are you alright?" she asked, hurriedly, by his side in an instant, hand placed on his arm, her eyes wide with alarm. 

Eyes that remembered him. 

"Good to.... see you again..." Clark managed to say, breathless, but still smiling faintly, even as his eyes fluttered closed

If Kara was the last person he saw, one of his family, it wouldn't be so bad. 

"Clark... Clark..." he could barely hear her now, barely feel her shaking him. He tried, desperately, to hold onto consciousness, but the pain was all he could feel. "Kal-el!" 

He just wanted it to stop. 

And, finally, it did. 

XXX 

Chloe was almost close to pacing the Kent's living room floor. Any longer, and she'd likely wear the wood thin. 

She'd told Kara she would be here at the farm when she rescued Clark. But what was taking so long? 

"Here," Lana came walking back into the living room from the kitchen, bearing two mugs of steaming hot tea. "It'll help with the nerves." 

Chloe took her mug with a grateful smile, running a hand through her hair with a huff of laughter, though there was no humor in it. 

"Thanks, Lana," Chloe took it with a grateful smile, letting out a sigh as she stared at the door, willing for it to just open already. "A kidnapped Clark wasn't a scenario I was prepared to deal with, today." 

"I don't think any of us were," Lana responded, softly, releasing her own sigh as she traced the rim of her mug. 

It was strange having Lana know Clark's secret, even stranger having her standing in the same room as the blonde when she'd been publicly dead not long ago. 

It was a funny world they lived in. But this was Smallville, after all. 

"God, I hope she's found him," Lana murmured, and Chloe snapped her attention back to the door, still closed.

"I-" she started to say, but was cut off as the door was suddenly flung open, Kara charging in. 

With Clark unconscious in her arms. 

Both Chloe and Lana startled forward, quickly setting their mugs down, as Kara lowered him gently onto the couch. 

Clark didn't even stir, didn't twitch, his head lolling against the cushions. 

"Kal-el was trapped in a cage of kryptonite," Kara told them, while their gazes roved over him. He was so pale... his chest barely rising as he lay there, and it scared Chloe to death. 

"You mean..." Lana's horrified voice trailed off as both she and Chloe realized the situation they were in. 

"Oh my God," the blonde breathed, sharing a terrified glance with Lana before they hurriedly kneeled by Clark's side. 

"Clark? Clark, can you hear me?" Chloe asked, Lana lightly shaking his shoulder, while Kara paced back and forth, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze never leaving his still form. 

"I promised my father that I'd protect Kal-el," Kara fretted, "I promised to look after him when he was a baby. And now... I've failed." 

Chloe glanced up at her, thinking of her plea to Jor-el earlier. She hadn't been lying when she'd told him she loved his son, the greatest friend she'd ever have. And that Earth had been tasked with protecting him. 

"You haven't failed yet," she said, firmly, then turned back to Clark, pressing down on the doubt that rose up in her that disagreed at the sight of him ashen and motionless. 

"We need to wake him up," Lana cried, near tears as her gaze darted between the blonde and Kara, her hand pressed to his chest. "He's not breathing!" 

Chloe stared down at Clark in growing horror. Horror at what was happening, and horror at what she was going to have to do. 

"I-" she started to say, plucking up the courage for both Lana and Kara to know the truth about her, when Kara quickly rushed forward, moving her and Lana out of the way. 

"Kal-el did this once with me when I'd been exposed to kryptonite for too long," she breathed, standing over Clark, fear clear in her blue eyes. "It's the only way." 

Chloe exchanged a wary look with Lana, but neither of them could deny Kara's words. If this didn't work, then they had one more shot, a card she would gladly pull from under her sleeve for Clark. 

Even if it killed her in the process. 

"Let's hope it works," she said, giving Kara a shaky nod, Lana doing the same, grabbing her hand tightly. 

A moment passed, where Kara gazed down uncertainly at Clark's pallid, unmoving face, taking a steadying breath. 

Then Chloe and Lana jumped as in one mighty thrust, faster than their eyes could track, she brought her fist down on his chest. 

And gasped as immediately, Clark sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and alert. "What... what happened?" he got out, breathless, looking among all of them. 

"My God!" Chloe blew out a relieved breath, while Lana wrapped him into a bone-crushing embrace, Kara still standing at his side, looking as shocked as they were that it worked. 

"Kara had to use one of your tricks on you," Lana explained, glancing up at Kara, Clark's surprised gaze following hers. "You... you did?" 

"I-I didn't know what else to do," Kara responded, looking as rattled as Chloe felt, hesitantly meeting Clark's eyes. "You were dying, Kal-el." 

"I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you," Lana whispered, pressing a kiss to Clark's cheek, whose gaze didn't leave Kara, looking a bit rattled himself. 

Chloe had a feeling they all would be for a good while. 

XXX 

"I wasn't hungry." 

Clark felt a small smile tug at his lips as he made his way up the rest of the loft's steps to where Kara stood, overlooking the sunset. 

"I wasn't gonna ask about dinner," he responded, sidling up beside her, even as she didn't look at him. 

They stood in silence for a moment, Clark watching the sunset alongside her, until she at last spoke, "I know it may not always feel like it, but I'm older than you, Clark, you're my baby cousin." 

His smile widening slightly, he briefly dipped his gaze, sobering as he glanced over at her, finding her standing stiffly. "You were calling me Kal-el earlier." 

At last, that stoic expression broke just a bit, but for worse. Kara's expression shuttered, and Clark's face fell as she said, her voice breaking, "I thought I'd lost you, Clark." 

He quickly pulled her into an embrace, holding her close, letting her clutch him as tightly as she wanted. "You didn't lose me." 

Kara pulled back enough to meet him eye to eye, her own filled with tears. "I'm meant to protect you, Clark," she said, firmly, "and... and I didn't do that." 

Clark sighed, being sure to not look away as he replied, "This wasn't your fault, Kara. It was Lionel's." 

She shook her head, turning away, "You don't understand-" 

But he did understand. As the one who usually took on the role of protector, he could understand better than anybody what it felt like when one of your loved ones got into harm's way. 

He just... had to get used to being the one who's protected, something he'd never been too good at. 

Clark caught her arm, causing her to look back at him as a smile spread across his face. "You'll always be my... protector, Kara. This won't change that." 

A smile of her own slowly spread across Kara's face. "I love you... Kal-el." 

Clark grinned, "I love you, too, Kara." 

Chapter Text

"Hey, Mrs. Kent? Mrs. Kent-" 

Lois stopped in her tracks at finding Clark sitting at the kitchen counter, twirling his spoon around in what looked to be a very pitiful bowl of cheerios. 

"Hey, Smallville," she greeted, lowering the folder she held of Mrs. Kent's planned events, crossing over to him. "Seen your mom around?" 

"At a conference," Clark replied, quietly, without looking up, still turning his spoon idly. 

Okay... So sure, Lois could nod to that and go on her merry way, but something had clearly taken the wind out of Clark's sails. 

And she needed to find out who, or what had done it. 

She slid onto a stool beside him, setting down the folder as she rested her elbows on the counter. "How about turning that frown upside down, huh?"

Clark didn't reply, however, just kept looking down, his features much too glum for her liking. 

"All right," Lois sighed, turning to face him more directly. "What Lana trouble's got you down?" 

"It's not Lana," he murmured, both taking her by surprise, and concerning her even more. 

"So, what is it then?" she gently urged, then when he didn't say anything, nudged his shoulder. "Come on, you can tell ol' Lois." 

Instead of receiving the smile she'd hoped for, a sniffle instead came from Clark, and she felt her face fall as he swiped at his eyes. 

Oh, no... 

All right, Lois silently decided, if it was someone that had made Clark cry, they were about to get a serious education. 

Just as soon as she found out who. 

"I... um," Clark sniffled again, having let go of the spoon, but yet to meet her eyes. "I was thinking about my parents." 

Lois's heart sunk at his words, a pang shooting through her. "Your dad?" she asked, softly, after a moment. 

If anyone knew how hard it was to get over losing a parent, it was her. And if Clark needed to talk about it, she'd listen. 

But what he said next had her heart sinking even further, and leaving her in uncharted territory. "No... my-my birth parents." 

"Oh."

Was that all she could say? That was her reaction? Oh? 

C'mon, Lois, she told herself, step it up here. 

"What about them?" she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder as she took in his crestfallen features. 

God, she hated seeing him cry. Somehow, somewhere along the line, it'd became her least favorite sight in the world. 

"I don't know why I'd never thought about it before, but I..." Clark swiped at his eyes once again, but unable to keep a tear from slipping down his cheek. "I lost a whole family, Lois. They're all... it's all gone."

He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, but Lois was at a loss. 

One thing she'd noticed about Smallville when she'd met him was this... positivity radiating from him, always on the cup half-full side. 

But lately... she'd seen that positivity, that light start to dim. First his father, then Lana, now this... 

She wasn't about to see it flicker out.

"I can't really say I know how it feels," Lois started, and he dropped his gaze, so she hurriedly continued, "but what I do know is that your birth parents... whoever they are or were, would be so proud of the man you are." 

Clark's eyes raised to hers, uncertainly, and she gave his shoulder a squeeze. 

Then hesitantly, not at all sure about what she was about to do, she released his shoulder, and stretched her hand forward to wipe away a stray tear trickling down his face with her thumb. 

"So, that's all you need to think about," Lois whispered, yet to pull her hand away. "Okay?" 

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither pulling away, until Clark at nodded, a small smile on his lips as he studied her. "Okay." 

Lois nodded, belatedly realizing just how close her face was to his, and rearing back, a bright grin on her face. "Okay. Okay. Then... good, great!" 

A bit awkwardly, she stood, ready to make her escape, before he spoke up, "You know, Lois?" 

"Yeah?" she responded, turning around to face him, and resisting the urge to fidget. 

When had that blue eyed stare suddenly became so hard to look at? 

"You joke around a lot, but... when it comes down to it, you're really good with advice," he said, in that earnest way of his that always had her heart fluttering for some annoying reason. "Thank you." 

Something that she never did, made a point of not doing because of how stereotypically girly it was, was tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. 

And that's exactly what she did. 

"N-No problem, Smallville," Lois replied, telling herself that she did not just stutter. "The Lois Advice Column is open 24/7." 

Then he grinned, and God, it was like seeing one of those sunsets that only came once in awhile, the ones that took your breath away. 

"I'll, uh..." Lois stammered, making her way to the door, and almost knocking into the wall on her way. "Go find your mom. See ya, Smallville." 

Dashing out like fire was on her heels, she darted out the door before she could catch a glimpse of that grin again, but... 

The feeling was still there, the feeling of that wanderlust that was only made up for romcoms, and... Lois didn't know if it was gonna stick around or not. 

Chapter Text

Lana dashed across the ground, darting around people to just catch a glimpse, just a glimpse of him to make sure he was all right- 

Clark. There he was. Upright and... alive. 

Not wasting a second more, she rushed forward, and she could swear it was like coming up for air the moment she touched him. 

How many nights since the wedding she'd lay awake, her tears slipping onto her pillow, one by one... how much she'd yearned to have Clark lying beside her. 

It felt like she hadn't touched him in over a million years. 

Lana pressed herself against his chest, wanting to hold onto this moment forever, taking in his scent, the feeling of him against her before it was all taken away. 

Only then did she see Lex's form from behind the smoke, watching them, and only then did she feel her fingers become sticky with blood. 

Lana reared back, her startled, wide eyes surveying Clark's dirt-stained face, right before he abruptly doubled over, clutching his arm. 

"Medic! We need a medic over here!" Lana shouted, her heart hammering, as she gripped Clark's other arm. 

She didn't know what... or, if... the medics could even do, but she was at a loss. But Chloe had said he wouldn't have survived if he'd stayed down in those tunnels, so... maybe he would be all right? Now that he wasn't down there? 

Lana didn't know, and it was killing her to still be in the dark, but she only prayed he'd gotten out in time. If not... she wouldn't be able to survive with herself. 

And Lionel and Lex would bear the consequences. 

The medics hurried over, guiding Clark over to an ambulance, and, after glancing uncertainly over her shoulder at where Lex still stood, Lana followed after them. 

She couldn't leave Clark yet, not now. She needed to know more about how this weakness affected him, and... hopefully find out what it was. 

So she could keep it away from him. 

"Sir, can you remove your hand?" one of the medics asked Clark, who pulled his hand away from his shoulder to reveal a small shard of meteor rock sticking out of the gash in his arm. 

Lana stared at it as the medic went to pull it out with a pair of tweezers, Clark squeezing his eyes shut as he cried out. 

So that was it... the meteor rocks? Now, it all made sense. The sudden bouts of sickness out of nowhere, why he couldn't stand to be near her when she wore her necklace.... 

And she watched as the medic turned away to dispose of the kryptonite shard, and almost immediately, the once gruesome gash on Clark's arm closed up completely. 

Her gaze shot to his face, finding his features now eased. Upon spotting the medic turning back to bandage it, she watched, still frozen in shock, as he stood, tugging his sleeve back down. 

"I-I'll be all right, thanks," he told the medic, who stepped forward, brows furrowed in confusion, "But, sir-" 

Yet Clark made a quick exit, striding off, but threw one last look towards Lana over his shoulder, questioning in his features. 

Lana would've stepped forward, would've followed him, except for the hand that came to rest on her shoulder, and settled for sending him a small smile.

"Is he alright?" Lex asked, softly, and she watched as Clark at last turned away, walking off, simply nodding in reply. 

Don't worry, Clark, she thought, you don't know it, but your secret's safe with me. 

Chapter Text

"Listen, I know how this sounds," Clark told the social worker, hands raised placatingly. "But she really needs to stay here-" 

"I think I can handle her," the social worker replied, shutting the door after Maddie. 

"You heard what the man said, okay?" Lois attempted to convince the guy once again. "I'm telling you, for your own safety, the girl can't be near glass." 

Yet the social worker simply proceeded to move to get in the car. "I heard you the first time," he said, then gestured toward the house. "Will you get her belongings, please?" 

Clark shared an uneasy glance with Lois, pursing his lips, but reluctantly started after her towards the house. 

He had a bad feeling about this.... 

And, proving his instincts right, both he and Lois whirled around at the sound of the car windows rattling, and found a man standing at the foot of the drive. 

"Maddie!" Clark yelled, running to the car, at the same time as Lois shouted, "Oh God... Maddie get out of the car!" 

But before they could reach her, the glass suddenly shattered, throwing both of them off their feet. 

And bringing a cry of pain from Clark as he landed on the ground, green dust plumed into the air around him, feeling shards embed themselves into his abdomen. 

Gulping in ragged breaths, he managed to roll onto his back, forced to watch as the man pulled Maddie out of the car, and took off with her. 

"M-Maddie, no!" Clark gasped, trying to raise up, but falling instantly back to the ground as agony shot through him. 

He raised his head, body shaking with the effort, just enough to see the shards of glass sticking out of his stomach, tinted with green. 

Kryptonite. 

He let his head thump back against the ground, squeezing his eyes shut as he panted, just as he heard Lois crawling over to him. 

"C-Clark?" she stammered, then as she got closer, horror soon coated her voice. "Clark, oh my God." 

"I... I'm okay, Lois," Clark got out, voice strained, as he cracked his eyes open, but unable to hold back a groan. 

"Yeah, right," Lois said, breathlessly, having reached his side, fingers hesitantly stretched towards the shards in his stomach. "You're shredded beef, Smallville." 

Not able to spare the energy, or the breath, to reply, Clark tried once more to sit up. And, unsurprisingly, collapsed onto his back with a strangled yell.

"Clark! Clark, don't try to move!" Lois exclaimed, her own voice strained. "Do not move. Clark?" 

The world was spinning before his eyes, the blue sky above them a blur that was quickly becoming dark. 

"L-Lois..." Clark slurred, his gaze shifting to catch a sight of her face, but not making it there before the dark consumed his vision completely. 

XXX 

"Earth to Smallville. You with me?" 

Clark felt his brows furrow as he shifted, his eyes slowly fluttering open to reveal Lois standing over him, and, as his gaze lowered, he pulled back the covers to find bandages wrapped around his middle. 

"Lois?" Clark murmured, his voice slightly hoarse, then felt alarm wash over him at seeing bandages peeking out from her shirt. 

"Are you-" he started to say, before he was pushed back down to the bed. 

"I told you not to move before, Smallville," Lois quipped, her eyes roving over him worriedly despite her joking tone. "Maybe now you'll listen to me? They just pulled glass out of you." 

"You, too," Clark fired back, but it came out soft as his gaze ran over her. "Are you alright?" 

"Just a flesh wound," she shrugged, but Clark could see the crease to her features as she sighed. "What I'm worried about is Maddie." 

Clark let out his own sigh, at that, in perfect condition to go out and look for her, now that the shards had been removed, but Lois didn't know that. 

As far as she knew, he ought to be barely feeling like moving. 

"But she's gonna be fine," Lois continued on, her words coming out in a ramble. "They put out an amber alert. Every cop in the state is looking for Maddie. They'll find her." 

Clark shifted again, making sure to wince as if he was still in real pain. And he almost was, at seeing the way Lois's face fell at the sight. 

"Did you get a good look at him?" he asked, trying to keep those particular thoughts at bay so he could focus on what was at hand.

Maddie.

"Like I told the sheriff," Lois responded, quickly, looking to be trying to push down wayward thoughts of her own. "Mid-30s, sandy blonde hair, good-looking in that psycho killer kind of way." 

"I just don't understand," Clark sighed, his brows furrowing further. "Who would want to kidnap Maddie?" 

Lois didn't seem to have any more of an idea than he did, replying bluntly, "Considering her dangerous disposition, I'm guessing somebody who's pretty desperate to be with her." 

And Clark needed to find out who. 

Chapter Text

It was one of those rare days where Martha had some free time on her hands. 

So, she'd decided to come see Clark practice, something she'd wanted to do for awhile now, and something she knew he needed. 

Clark loved playing football so much, getting to be part of the team, getting to feel... normal. 

Jonathan knew that, and he was just as glad as Martha to see Clark so happy, but... then he saw the risks, too. 

Martha saw them as well, but she knew how it hurt Clark, so that's why she'd came, hoping he could feel supported. 

She stood at the sidelines, waving to Clark when he spotted her. He grinned at seeing her, yet a flare of what almost seemed to be panic flashed in his eyes briefly, his smile almost seeming forced. 

Martha felt her brows furrow, but before she could think on it any longer, practice started. 

"Blue-72! Blue-72! Hut!"

She knew football could be brutal at times, not for Clark, never for Clark. Yet Martha found herself surging forward, a cry of shock on her lips when her son was thrown harshly to the ground. 

"Clark!" Martha shouted, rushing forward as the other players stepped away, the coach coming forward. 

"You all right there, son?" Coach Quigley asked, moving aside as Martha hurried past him, dropping to her knees beside Clark as he curled around his ribs. 

"Clark, honey?" she gasped, brushing his hair back from his face as he cried out, his breaths coming out in strained bursts. "What happened?" 

Martha watched in growing alarm as Clark squeezed his eyes shut, curling further around his ribs. "M-Mom, I-" 

"I think you'd better sit this one out," the coach chimed in, waving another player off the bench. 

"C'mon, sweetie," she murmured, carefully helping Clark to his feet, her concern rising at the pain in his features, the color leeching from his face. 

This was not normal. Something had happened, something- 

Yet her train of thought stopped as while she was helping Clark stagger to his feet, a small shard of kryptonite tumbled onto the grass from between his shoulder pads. 

Martha's stunned gaze snapped from the ground to Clark's still too pale face, in time to see his expression fall when he realized he was in a world of trouble. 

XXX 

"You could have killed yourself," Martha said sharply, gripping the steering wheel tightly, Clark sitting silently beside her. 

"I always get better when it's gone," he said, quietly, but not without a hint of frustration in his voice. "I would've been fine-" 

"Clark, no," Martha cut him off, cutting her gaze briefly to him, still struggling to assure herself that he was all right. "Do you know why I haven't been worried about you playing?" 

Clark didn't raise his head, staring down at his hands as he'd been doing the whole ride. "No." 

"Because I knew you wouldn't get hurt," she breathed, her tone softening just slightly. "A lot of kids get hurt playing that game... badly. And if you use kryptonite..." 

Clark didn't reply, and she turned her head, raising a hand to pet his hair back gently before returning it to the wheel. 

"You're my son, my baby," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes as her voice shook. "You always will be, no matter how much time passes or how many people you save." 

He at last raised his head, his own eyes shining with tears as she continued. "You can't make yourself sick, sweetheart. You just have to trust yourself." 

"But mom-" Clark tried to protest, but falling silent at her stern look, shrinking back into his seat. 

"I trust you," Martha said, firmly yet softly. "So can you." 

Any hint of stubbornness had just about left those blue eyes by now, only uncertainty remaining. 

"I love you, mom," Clark eventually said, ever her sweet boy as he dipped his head, averting his eyes. 

After coming to a stop at the red light, Martha leaned over to wrap him into a hug, giving him a tight squeeze. "I love you too, baby." 

Once they'd pulled apart, and she'd went back to driving, she caught a glimpse of Clark wincing.

"You're not... gonna tell dad about this, are you?"