"Go By"

///chapter twelve///




.



Agony.

Searing.

Agony.

Clark curled up on his side, arms bunched around his middle. A green plague surged and burned through his veins, the affliction spread by the massive green rock resting beside him, taunting him.

That light. That green, humming glow. It consumed him and every ounce of strength he had.

“Chloe.” It was all he could scream within his shaky breath, and even then, it only escaped as a whimper. Gravity induced by the green rock crippled Clark, pushing him closer and closer into the ground until he felt his lungs collapsing, suffocating. His skin was slick with sweat, every muscle tense and taut, pulling every which way in a cramped chaos. He couldn’t take much more of this.

A bright light shined in his face, piercing dilated pupils.

Chloe. This time he thought it, his eyes shut, too painful to keep open. Clark swallowed, his throat closing on him. It was even harder to breathe now. The kryptonite… there was just too much of it. And the dust. The green dust was swirling around, breathing it.

He needed to get away from it, the green glowing rock, but he was trapped. The moment he blurred in ahead of them, he felt it. But by then it was too late. The door was locked, he’d lost his strength to pull the door off its hinges, deduced to a whimpering mess on the floor.

Chloe. He whispered silently again. He needed her. She was the only one who could help him now. If he could just get outside the room, he’d be fine.

He whispered her name again, but he couldn’t hear her anymore. His pounding heartbeat swallowed everything else.

Chloe.

Maybe she’d left him behind. She’d left and not looked back. He wouldn’t blame her. He’d blame him. She thought he was working with him!

Clark shuddered, turning over again.


But then, he heard her. She answered him.

“Clark?” Her voice was pure and clear, lifting the fog just enough so he could hear it.

He heard another voice.

“But… he’s ….. for Lex?”

Words. They were all jumbled and fuzzy again. Heart pounding inside his eardrum punctuated them shorter and shorter.

“Can’t…. him here, Jimmy.”

Their voices drowned out again, getting farther as if in a long tunnel. He moved his lips, praying for just enough strength to communicate with her before she was gone completely. That’s when she said it.

“Clark.” Crystal clear.

The most refreshing feeling spread over his neck and cheek, caressing his fever and nausea away.

What was that? Clark moved his face against it, feeling its coolness spread deeper down through him. He felt it wash through him again, this time it felt almost warm. Warm, but not like the burning fever that was slowly dissipating.
Clark was a scorching mess, veins full of pins and needles, but this. This was soothing, relieving, an oasis to quench the nauseating pain to give him just enough strength to peak open his eyes.

He saw her. She was touching his cheek, brushing his hair away. Her eyes. He could see them clearly, more clearly now than in a long time, she was huddled close. Green with golden flecks, wide and charged. They were the same that used to look upon him in the same gentle way years ago, only they were deeper now.
Changed with distance and uncertainty.

Chloe stroked his forehead again.

He was fevered, but once her fingers traced his brow, it left a cool trail, so good and refreshing he moaned in pleasure.

“He’s… sick.”

Her small hands went around his neck, he groaned again. Her touch felt cool, providing an oasis of relief from the sickness fluxed in him. For a moment, he felt almost normal, but she pulled away.

Clark heard their voices again, muffled.

What were they saying?

He had to fight this. He had to get out of there. He slowed down his haggard breathing, forcing himself to concentrate.

What was it that always helped him concentrate?




beat.




There it was.

He found it, right there next to him. Except it wasn’t the usual, laid back rhythm.
It was racing, like his.

“Chloe.” This time, he did whisper it audibly.

She knelt down to him, her green eyes next to his. “Stand up for me, Clark.”

He squeezed his eyes shut again, her words empowering yet heartbreaking. He wanted to stand up, he did. But he couldn’t feel his legs. All he felt was a hot fire poker stabbing his calves and up to his thighs. Searing pain.

“Clark.”





beat.





His eyes flew open.

She took a hold of his hands, hers so much smaller inside his. Her other arm wrapped against his large shoulder and Clark felt Jimmy pick up his other one.
beat.

He focused on her, wincing as he forced his legs to work.

But Clark did it, one foot in front of the other, Chloe’s hand in his.

Since he’d fallen into this snake pit, he’d failed to realize where he was. Clark forced his eyes open scanning the haze of the pitch black room, only partially acknowledging the bizarre collection of behemoth entities towering over them.

He saw something that looked familiar. His dad’s truck?

Clark smiled weakly, knowing he was hallucinating now, and grimaced with the pain that smiling brought.

But it was the last painful stretch to the exit that snapped Clark’s conscious.
Kryptonian… symbols? Clark stopped the trudging of his feet, studying one row of the smeared representations closer. But he couldn’t focus his eyes. He couldn’t quite read--

Moving, he moved along with Chloe and Jimmy pushed past the rows of shelves that led to their exit.

Clark hazily watched as Chloe tampered with the door, and the light changed from red to green.

Green. Clark flinched. No more green.

Once they were out, that green cast of light left behind them, Clark welcome the dizzying mix of flashing orange lights that spun above.

And as the effects of the kryptonite wore off, he ears acclimated to the blaring of alarm sirens.

Sirens.

Clark tried to shake off the remaining needles he felt coursing through him, but he couldn’t. He’d swallowed too much of that dust, and he was still covered in it.

“Clark!”

He peered down to see Chloe back away from him to a leery distance. “We’re leaving!” She shouted over the obnoxious sirens.

“With or without you.”

The last part he had to read her lips, she’s spoken it so low as if to hide it within the deafening chaos.

He blinked, trying to shake off remaining nausea, turning just in time to see Chloe and Jimmy rounding a corner. Without him.

Clark paused, turning to look back at the vault that was full of enigmas he knew he’d have to uncover later.






beat.






But not now.

Wait. He choked on his words, stumbling ahead instead.

Sirens.

Sirens meant they were only seconds away from having Lex’s bevy of security rain down on them.

Clark staggered faster after them.

He found Chloe and Jimmy at the end of the hall, between two waves of security personnel wielding assault rifles.




beat.

beat.




Clark hesitated, only a hair of a moment. Maybe his reflexes were off, or maybe his concentration was jilted, but he looked up just in time to see the ever so friendly security camera watching.

Great. Clark frowned.

Right then, one of the guards aimed at Clark. He fixed his feet, gauging the situation. Clark raised his hands instinctively, something a human would do…




beat.




He watched Chloe’s blond array of hair spin round as she did. He saw her.




beat.




He heard the percussion of the pin hitting the round.



beat.



And that’s when time stopped, or nearly did.

Usually this was where Clark would duck out of the way, or just reach out and swat the bullet like a harmless fly.

But this time, it jumped out at him like a irritated rattle snake, and bit him.

In the shoulder.

Clark reeled as his flesh pierced, the impact jerking him backward some.

He cried out, confused as to how his mind perceived time slower than usual, yet his body not fast enough to move nor was his flesh impenetrable.

The meteor dust. He choked, the pain catching him off guard.

Clark gritted his teeth, absorbing the pain, balancing it with the rest of the lingering discomfort he was feeling from the meteor rock.

Think. He told himself, as he watched the scene in front of him move imperceptibly, frame by mili-frame.

He watched one of the armed guards reach for Chloe.



beat.




Chloe!

Still moving invisibly within time, Clark took a step forward, his injured shoulder thrusting forward with the other, hands clenched at either side. His blue eyes turned dark, then flashed, a fierce red emission exploding within the irises.

His dark brows fused together, focusing until he controlled the two strings of concentrated heat, directing it masterfully at the targeted guard’s weapon.

Strings of intense red, glowing radiation still suspended between its target, Clark lept up, grimacing as he did, swiping his large fist against the helpless console of the security camera overhead.

Still in air, Clark punched into the ceiling, feeling his knuckles buckle under the stress and force. He grabbed the electrical cords and yanked. Hard.


**

Chloe spun around, one of the rifles directed behind her.

Clark was standing at the end of the hall, eyes wide behind dark glasses. But they weren’t locked on the barrel aimed right for him. No, they were on her.

They were blue, powerful, intense. For her.

That’s when it hit her.

It was a sliver of a moment that lasted an eternity, but in that moment, Chloe recognized the best friend that she’d lost long ago.

Then a gun shot.

“No!” She jumped forward at the sound, sparks and then--

Nothing.

The entire hallway was black, the alarm sirens still blaring in the distance

What just happened? She stood in the dark.

She felt Jimmy press her forward. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here!”

She stumbled over limp objects scattered over the floor. Where those the guards?

“Jimmy, where’s Clark?” She squinted down the hallway where he’d been standing before the power had gone out.

“I’m right here.”

She felt his voice over her shoulder. He was wheezing. She didn’t have time to ask questions, but she sure wanted to figure out why Lex’s men would’ve taken a shot at their own guy. That wasn’t procedure, was it?

“Chloe, let’s go!” Jimmy tugged on her again.

After a abbreviated pause of logic, Chloe grabbed Clark’s arm, making sure he was right behind them. She rationalized that maybe the only logical way to get an explanation from him was to make sure he made it out, in one piece.

They rounded hallway after hallway. This time their pathways weren’t so creative, and Chloe forgot altogether about camera blind spots. As far as she was concerned, making it out alive was top priority. If Lex was making pop shots on one of his own like Clark, his men wouldn’t hesitate to knock off her and Jimmy.

And Lois.

Lois! Chloe’s heart skipped.

They made it out of the maze after a few turns, and finally made it outside.

Chloe darted her eyes around, searching for her brunette cousin. And of course, she was there right where she’d left her.

Sirens wailed as they crossed the long stretch of asphalt, Jimmy dashing towards the car as Chloe pulled Clark after her.

“What the hell happened in there?!” Lois uncrossed her arms, eyes wide.
Jimmy ran around to the front, and kicked at the newly changed tire. Good as new. “Nothing, what happened out here?” He nodded over to the unconscious
guard near the bushes.

Lois stared at Jimmy pointedly. “Well after the whole place went bonkers with the lights and the alarms and all, I figured I’d let him sleep it off than worry about it.”
She pushed Jimmy towards the car. “Now get in, Olsen!”

Chloe led Clark into the back, only just realizing the blood soaking through his shirt. “Clark?”

“Who is that?” Lois looked at large slumped figure leaning in her back seat. Chloe climbed in after him.

“Well Lois, remember that birthday party Chloe and I gave you?” Jimmy threw his camera in and slid in the passenger side.

Lois jumped into the driver side. “No?”

Jimmy nodded, smiling. “Yeah, that’s the one.” He turned to her. “You were pretty lush that night.”

The brunette frowned as she put the car in gear.

The car rocketed backwards, spun around, and raced out of there, kicking up clouds of red dust that covered their tracks.


*****



“I remember now.”

Clark winced, finding the set of hard brown eyes staring at him.

“You were that weird guy who threw up outside. Yeah,” Lois nodded her head in affirmation, “that was you.”

“Lois, please. Can you give us a minute?” Chloe turned to her cousin holding a first aid kit and a glass of water. She set both on the sink counter.

They were inside the basement restroom of the Planet. The only sanctuary any of them could think of in the heat of the calamity. The plan was that they would squat here until they heard word from Chloe’s contact.

Clark sat upon the sink counter while Chloe staged her rudimentary medical supplies as the vanity lights behind him provided a warm, pleasing atmosphere to work in.

“It’s the glasses.” Lois continued to study him. “I mean, who wears glasses anymore?”

“I do.” Clark said, using all his strength to bite back the irritation in his voice. His fingers were splayed against his shoulder where the bullet had hit. His dress shirt was soaked with his own blood, something he hadn’t seen too often in his lifetime. He wasn’t absolutely sure why he hadn’t healed yet. Perhaps there was still some meteor dust in his system, or even in the bullet wound…

Whatever it was, Clark felt fortunate for it. At least now he didn’t have to explain his ordinarily, extraordinary super-human impenetrable shell. Clark felt a little more ‘human’ right now, maybe even normal. He inwardly smiled at the irony.

Clark watched as the taller woman of the two scrutinized him some more until
Chloe waved her away.

“Lois, please. Go help Jimmy download the files from his camera. We need to learn as much as we can before the axe comes down on us.” She shifted her weight, resting both hands on the delicate curve of her hip. She sighed. “We don’t have much time, probably only hours.”

The brunette flashed Clark another stiff look and then hugged the smaller blonde encouragingly. “Ok, Coz. I’m on it.”

“Thank you.” She said to Lois’ retreating form. Chloe sighed again, then turned to Clark.

“Thanks.” He winced, still holding his shoulder.

“For what?”

For not leaving me back there. For saving me. Clark spoke silently, watching her hazel eyes dart from his to his wound.

“Thanks for getting her off my back.” He settled for instead.

Chloe pried open the plastic case marked with a red cross. “Yeah, well Lois is… Lois. She’s harmless.”

Clark smiled. “Not if you ask that guard she took out.”

Chloe smiled pulling out tweezers. “Well, I’m glad you have a sense of humor because this next part isn’t going to be so funny.”

“Even though it looks like the wound isn't very serious," he watched as she waded through the articles in the first aid kit. "I'd still prefer it if you were in Met Gen. But, we can't do that."

Clark nodded. They didn't take him to Metropolis Gen. for the fear of being spotted. Jimmy was in the other room with his police scanner on, listening for any details of the night.

He was relieved actually. Clark was pretty sure any hospital they went to wouldn’t have his blood type. It was a blessing that matters fell the way they were and Chloe didn’t have the slightest inclination to admit him to ER. The doctors might’ve been in for a surprise then.

"I’m not sure about the situation yet.” She stole a leery glance. “I don’t know how much Lex knows… Or how far Luthor Corp is going to press our little caper with the authorities. It's especially interesting considering the facility we broke into isn’t even on the books, postal address or even Google maps.”

“So, I’m not quite sure how one investigates a burglary of a non-existent habit.” She added with her signature snark. “Most of the time Lex doesn’t report anything, he tends to take matters into his own hands.” She took out a brown bottle that read, Antiseptic.

“Which could be worse, actually." She added. "The Luthor’s have a way of evening the playing field.“ She sighed, setting the bottle on the counter next to Clark. Even sitting on the bathroom counter, Clark towered over her, her blonde head level with his chest.

“You’ve been playing Lex’s game for a while now.”

Her hazel eyes flicked over his and he watched as they narrowed and steeled.

Clark stared back at her with equal intensity. “But it isn’t as much as a game as it is a war.” He followed her eyes when they fell onto his bleeding shoulder.

“Perhaps I should have said battle field, then.” She took a step closer to examine his wound, her subtle features giving way to her guilt.

He watched her hazel eyes drag up his chest and up to meet his.

“Hospital or not, the bullet needs to go. So,” she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, “I’m going to take it out.”

She paused, tweezers in hand, and looked up at him. “Any objections?”

“No,” Clark looked back at her, “I trust you, Chloe.”

She stood there a moment, weighing his words. She dragged her eyes from his, down to his bloodied shirt.

“Take that off.”

Clark complied, and lowered both hands to the row of buttons. He handled each one clumsily, his large fingers fumbling.

“Here, let me.” Chloe stepped forward, and made progress much quicker.

Once unbuttoned, Clark shrugged off the dress shirt, wincing as he did. Chloe removed it, throwing it in the corner of the restroom.

Instantly, Clark felt a whole lot better, most of the dust caught in that single shirt and now away from his body. He took a deep breath, but it was still labored. He wasn’t totally healed, and he still had a bullet in him.

Chloe looked down at Clark’s undershirt. It was a blue cotton tee, just like the ones he used to wear long ago. Some things never changed.

“That one too.”

He closed his eyes anticipating the pain but raised his arms. He stopped once his body shuddered, his muscles stinging all over. He couldn’t lift his shoulder without feeling it.

“Wait,” Clark heard her say as his eyes were still shut, “hold still.”

He did.

Until he felt a cold metallic tool against his stomach. Reflexively, he tucked in his chest and open his eyes.

She had scissors and was cutting the shirt down the middle. She was almost done now, the tip of the scissors tickling his flesh as she cut upwards to his chin.

She swayed closer to his resting body, eyes intent on the task at hand. Chloe was the smaller entity, yet she had the power in the room, her hands slowly proceeding in careful operation.

Clark sat there patiently, studying her as she studied his wound. A few strands of hair slid into her brow without her noticing. Clark rested his hands against the counter on either side of him, willing himself not to brush them back, not to disturb her. But he did want to touch her. He ached for it. Somewhere beneath his chest he ached for her, stronger than the ache from the hole in his shoulder.

She pulled the two pieces of blue cloth away from his chest and pulled it off of him, revealing Clark’s bulky, yet defined body.

He was gorgeous. Powerful.

Clark was solid, chiseled out of something other than ordinary flesh. Maybe stone? She fought the temptation to touch his skin to make sure, only settling instead for confirmation as his muscled flesh rippled he breathed and swayed forward.

The room got a little warmer, she thought.

Her eyes traced over him very slowly with tentative interest, running along the pronounced solidarity of his chest, around the pair of copper circles within the fray of dark hair there. Guiltily she darted back to the red, puckered wound on his shoulder and frowned.

“Is it bad?” Clark gauged her reaction.

“No, it’s barely a scratch.” She tossed him a flippant smile, and grabbed a wash cloth, dousing it with the brown bottle.

“A scratch?” Clark frowned back. It didn’t feel like a scratch.

She smirked. “Big baby.” She wiped the upper part of his neck with the damp cloth and watched as he closed his eyes. While he wasn’t looking, she grimaced, studying the wound. It looked pretty bad. And deep. There wasn’t any way of getting that bullet out without literally digging for it. She anticipated a lot of pain
for him.

She continued to wipe down Clark’s golden chest, tanned from years of working on a farm, she guessed. She went over every muscle, careful to wipe down all the blood that had dried on his beautiful flesh. She was procrastinating. Not just because Clark was gorgeous without his shirt, but because she knew this was going to hurt like hell.

She studied his face as she moved the cool cloth back and forth.

“Why are you following me?

Clark’s eyes lids drifted down once he felt her touch his chest. He couldn’t decide whether it was relaxing or… something else. But it felt good. He didn’t want her to stop.

Hesitantly, his eyes lifted. "What do you mean?”

He hissed when she when she dragged the cloth straight over the bullet wound.
Her eyes stared back at his.

“Clark, I’ve seen you before.”

He looked down. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what?” She pressed the cloth into the wound again.

“Ahhh! Do you have to do that?” He pointed his blue eyes.

“Yes! I do! It could be infected.” She pressed again, him hissing in return.

Clark knew what she was thinking. He just needed to say it before she made anymore assumptions, or worse, dug that damned cloth into his stinging wound again.

“Chloe, I’m not…. I haven’t spoken to Lex Luthor for years.”

She looked up at him, waiting.

“I’m not working for Lex.” He reiterated.

“I know.”

Clark blinked. “You know? How do you know?

She blinked back. “Well, are you? Are you working for Lex?”

“No.”

She nodded, continuing to stroke his chest gingerly with the wash towel.

“Good.” She stroked again, this time in the same areas as before, unaware that she’d taken attention to them earlier.

Clark didn’t protest.

“I know, because we used to trust each other, Clark. And I like to believe I can still trust you now.”

Finally satisfied with the wipe down, Chloe abandoned the wash rag and dipped the tweezers in the bottle of anitsepic.

“I also know,” she steadied one hand ontop of his large bicep, while getting her other hand readied with the shiny instrument, “because Lex’s men shot you without any discretion what so ever. I figured they wouldn’t shoot one of their own, right?”

Clark nodded, watching her and her eyes grow weary. She looked up at him, her hazel color becoming dark with empathy. “Close your eyes, Clark.”

“Why?” He watched her, anticipating it.

“Suit yourself.” She studied him and then the wound.
And then plunged.

He only moved a little, tensing himself against the counter. He could feel the little pinchers reach in, deeper and deeper, tearing at the flesh that kept the little piece of metal inside his cavity.

But he never took his eyes off of hers. He gritted his teeth once he felt her reach the bullet, and miss.

He grunted, and she pulled away.

“Sorry!”

He shook his head. “No, no just get it out.”

The second attempt, she did. It was rather large, and she tossed it into the sink behind him.

Chloe took to the wash cloth again, wiping the wound thoroughly. This time, she was more gentle.

Clark grabbed the glass of water sitting next to him, and downed it. If he could just get that meteor dust out of his system, he’d be fine. And maybe this stinging pain would go away because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of it.
How did humans cope with it, pain?

Chloe took the glass from his hands and refilled it, giving it back to him.

“So,” she crossed her arms, “are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

Clark took another drink, stalling.

“Clark?”

He sighed, pushing up his glasses.

“You know what? Fine!” He watched as she threw up her hands. “Don’t tell me, Clark. We’ll just make this into one of our little games. I almost forgot how you liked secrets.”

He finished another glass.

Chloe stood in front of him, invisibly pouting. She waited another few moments until she was sure he wasn’t answering her.

“Okay, at least tell me what the meltdown was all about, Clark. I mean, you looked like you were dying, laying on the floor like that.” She blinked, waiting for his answer.

Doubt filled the silent moment between them.

Secrets.

“I don’t know what happened.” Clark stirred.

Wordlessly, she took the glass from him again, refilled it and gave it back to him.

He knew she didn’t believe him, yet she didn’t call him out on it.

Instead she started untangling gauze, preparing to dress his wounds.

Chloe recounted all that had happened. First, she didn’t understand when exactly Clark entered that room. It was locked before, and locked after she and Jimmy broken in. So either Clark was waiting for them, or….

Well, she didn’t know. She didn’t even now why he was there, and she already knew he wasn’t going to tell her. If he wasn’t working for Lex then, who is he working for?

Her mind fumbled around the bizarre occurrences of the night. Trains, planes, automobiles. Lex’s Porsche… meteor rock… Clark.

Clark. She stilled, him stirring in the dissociation of logic that night.

Turned up there, out of nowhere, was Clark. Again.

Then there was his complete melt down, like he was having a reaction to something. When she’d touched him, she felt it. He was in pain, lots of it. And now? Not so much. Of course, she wouldn’t know now since she was being careful not to touch him, or look at him. But it was difficult not to do either. Not with Clark looking like, that.

She carefully sneaked a look from the side, discovering that his glass was empty, again.

“You’re really dehydrated.” She reached for the glass once more with the intention of filling it from the faucet, but this time, it slipped from her fingers.

Shattering against the floor.

Clark looked between them, confused.

She stared at him, at his chest, at his wound.

His nonexistent wound.

Clark froze, realizing that he'd just screwed up. Big time.


.






////part 2////




.












It was awkward.

There they were.

Clark, half naked, resting on the counter top.

Chloe, backing several feet away from him, glass crunching underneath her shoes.

Clark watched the glass slip from her fingers, but what was it that kept him from super reflexing and catching it?

The same thing that clouded his mind.



Distracted him. Clark frowned, hearing a distant whisper in the recesses.



Her. The young woman with captivating hazel eyes that were staring straight at him.


Clark hid beneath his lashes, shrinking off the counter to retrieve his dress shirt, sliding it back on.

A fever grew over his body, but this time it wasn’t from the wound. No, that had healed completely.



Idiot. Clark chided himself, knowing full well he had just thrown away every effort he’d committed to keeping his secret. Every lie, every disguise… for nothing! How could he have let this happen, it was entirely out of character to be so careless.



Jor-El was right.




Then again, he was always right. Clark hated the absolute of it, but it was true.

He knew Jor-El wanted the best for his son, Kal-El, but Clark himself couldn’t completely ignore his humanity. And all of the want that came with it.
He glanced over at Chloe’s back turned to him, fumbling with the remainder of buttons on his shirt.

Clark spent years trying to tune out the keystones the voice in the caves preached to him.




Responsibility. Prophecy. Destiny.




A greater destiny.




Jor-El was always told Clark he was meant for greater things than the human life.
Reminded him how much weighed on his future. How one day he’d save the world as if it would vanish tomorrow.

And Clark obeyed Jor-El, abiding as much as he could understand.

But around Chloe. It was different.

She was his golden beacon. Around her, Clark could find a nugget of sanctuary amongst the havoc and disarray that had become his routine. She reminded him of the earlier years when ideas of the world were simpler, and happier. And somehow, in all those years in-between then and now, she’d kept reminding him.

In her secret, unspoken way.

Around Chloe, Clark stopped listening to the eternal ramblings of a foreign voice that wasn’t even tangible. Around her, Clark could just listen, to her. To Chloe. Someone who was real, someone who he could touch and feel. Even if he never dared to.

For once Clark could listen to something that wasn’t threatening that the world could go away tomorrow. She was in the world, today. And everyday. He’d followed her two years, keeping her safe. Making absolutely sure that no one like Lex Luthor could change that. But somehow, she was the one who saved him. Tonight, and every other night.

For once, Clark just wanted a sliver of normal, human life to himself, without the absolutes of Kryptonian principles.
But tonight, Clark realized, he might’ve gone too far. And really screwed things up.

This was his secret. And he’d let go of it, willingly. Surrendered it to Chloe, actually. Sitting there, like an idiot, for her to see exactly how fast Neosporin would work for him.

But as much as Clark chided himself about it, a thought rose to his mind like an annoying little nat, buzzing around until he had no other choice but to listen to it.




Maybe I wanted her know?





At the realization, he swallowed the solid lump in his throat.

He turned, looking at Chloe, who hadn’t said nor moved. He knew she was waiting for an explanation, or trying to formulate one herself.

Clark didn’t know if Jor-El would be angry, disappointed or disgraced at him. In his father’s honor, he knew Jor-El would want Kal-El to protect their heritage at all costs.

But he wasn’t just Kal-El. He was Clark Kent too.

And Clark, well, he just couldn’t lie anymore. Not to her.


***

Chloe couldn‘t think… blink. Her eyes stuck open, wide with the disbelief and apprehension of what just happened.

She had been so careful with the gloves and the no direct touching. But somehow, her healing abilites had jumped over, and well, healed Clark. How was she going to explain this?

She distanced herself as Clark climbed off the counter.
She needed a logical explanation for the illogical thing that had just happened but she couldn’t think, her mind scattered so thin and frantic that she felt very faint and whoozy.



Panic. I’m panicking. Chloe stilled herself, taking a deep breath. She wasn’t the type to panic since she never led herself into a corner.




She nodded to herself, and then nodded again, stronger this time. She could do this. She could come up with something.

Meanwhile, Clark, his back to her, took his sweet time putting on his shirt. It only made Chloe more nervous with every stretched out, unsteady moment.

She really just wanted to run out of the room and never look back, but Clark turned towards her at the very last moment, his glasses off.

“Chloe, I--”

“NoClarkLetMeExplain.” It all came out in one rush.

“It was the meteor rock.” This time it was slower, Chloe taking a deep breath.
“You see, when you got here you still had that dust on you. You know how meteor rock does funny… stuff.” She pointed her eyes, lifting her brows, stretching the abstracts of facts until they played into truths.

Clark blinked. “You think meteor rock healed my shoulder?”

“Yeah.” She paced the tile floor, glass crunching underneath her; it only emphasized the fragile alibi she was concocting out of thin, very thin air. “I mean,
it only makes sense, right?” The way she said it wasn’t a question, more of an affirmation to herself. And to Clark.

“I mean,” Chloe’s eyes sneaked over to him, “ what else could have healed you?”

Clark focused down at the pair of glasses resting in his hands.

He could just tell her now. But Chloe gave him a big wide, safe exit.

And he took it.

“I guess you’re right.” He winced, sliding his glasses back on.

She nodded with him, and all seemed to be agreed upon.

“Chlo!”

Her blonde head perked up, it was Jimmy from outside.

“Files are uploaded!”

Before Clark could think, Chloe was gone.


**

It took Clark a few moments to follow her, but he did. He always did.

When he stepped out into the basement, Chloe, Jimmy and Lois were all huddled around the one computer like moths.

The three of them were a well oiled machine, each fitting so neatly together that Clark stood out like a sore thumb, standing apart.

He looked down at his ruined shirt: bloodied with a small hole where the bullet went through. Martha Kent would not be happy.

He scooted away towards the old telephone booths in the corner of the basement where he always stashed an extra set of clothes for… other purposes.

“Find anything linking to Alicia Baker?” Chloe squinted, the funny dimple forming between her dark brows.

“No,” Jimmy frowned, “I mean, there’s something here. There’s got to be. All of this researched filed away with that huge meteor rock there’s bound to be a connection somewhere.”

Chloe glanced over and smiled, proud that they were both on the same track.
“Yeah, there’s always a way to connect the dots.”

She leaned in, studying the photos closer but she didn’t gain much insight.. “Even if those dots are scribbles and blotchy marks that make absolutely no sense whatsoever.” She straightened, sighing dejectedly. “What are those?”

Jimmy squinted and titled his head to one side. “Hieroglyphics maybe? But it doesn’t look Sumerian or Egyptian.”

Lois hovered, smirking. “Who knew Olsen had all these anthropology skills?”
He turned, cocking an eyebrow. “I have a lot of hidden talents, Lois.”

Chloe shook her head, “These don’t even look human. They look almost--”

“Chloe,” Lois chimed in, resting a hip on the corner of the desk, “if you say ‘alien’ I’m just going to go home now.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, surrendering a small smile.


**

Clark finished tucking in his shirt tail and stepped out from the small confines of the old telephone booth.

When he stepped closer, he saw it.


Kryptonian symbols.



No. Clark reeled.



He thought he’d been hallucinating them. The only other time he’d seen them were in the caves and in Virgil Swann’s journals…

“Tell me again why we’re not taking Big Blue here to the hospital?”

Clark’s concentration broken by the brunette’s loud, nasally voice, he turned to her.

“I told you, Lois. It was just a flesh wound.” Chloe moved from the desk towards her bag and fished out her cell phone. “And besides, every hospital in the state might be looking for us, so there’s no sense blowing our cover for a… scratch.”
Her eyes flicked over to Clark’s.

“Stratch?” Lois stared deeper at both of them. “Hey, what happened to all the blood?” She pointed to Clark’s shoulder.

“Bandage.” Clark answered swiftly, crossing his arms, looking at Chloe.

Chloe glanced back at him, solidifying the secret between them. It was a small concession, Clark thought, towards the small budding of trust.

“And your shirt?” Lois pried.

Clark tightened his arms, growing a little tired of the brunette‘s questions. “I always keep an extra, just in case.”

The brunette lifted a brow.

Then lifted the other when Chloe’s phone rang until she hushed it against her cheek.

The room watched as the blonde bounced out and into the copy room, shutting the door.

“I hate it when she does that.”

Clark switched over to Lois, who was just as equally staring at Chloe’s head on the other side of the window.

“Does what?” Jimmy asked absently, still focused on the computer.

“All these secrets. Secret phone conversations, secret meetings, plans… I don’t keep anything from her!” The brunette crossed her arms, hurt. “For instance, I didn’t even know about Big Blue was here tonight, until she dragged him out with her.”

Jimmy popped up to retrieve the pages he’d just printed.

“Chloe’s always been that way, Lois. You know that.” The red head sifted through the papers and then plopped back in the chair.

“Not always, Jimmy. Remember,” she peered down, over his shoulder, “I’ve known Chlo the longest.”

“That may be, but I’m her best friend.” Jimmy said softly, yet firmly. “And I know that despite all Chloe’s covert ways, she’s always came through.” He tilted his head towards the pebbled glass window where the blonde was still pacing back and forth, whispering into her phone.

“Okay, fine.” the brunette slinked forward, a crease forming between her brow; it reminded Jimmy how closely related the cousins were.

“Just tell me why we’re hiding out here at the Planet of all places when we could be safer somewhere else, like a van down by the river? Lex’s men could be out side right now--”

“Ah, my dear Lois.” Jimmy patted the taller woman on top of her pretty brown head, “you fail to see the genius of it.”
Lois stared at him, blank.

Jimmy continued. “Lex’s men can’t get anywhere near this building without violating several court ordered criminal trespasses. Just a memento to Lex and all of his soured bribing and laundering. You can’t buy everybody.”


**


“You erased them? And the guards, they-- Oh. Good. Good.” Chloe leaned against a copier, her phone pressed against her cheek. She’d toed off her shoes once given her the good news, the all clear.

“Wow, you really saved me again you know that?” A bright smile, bright eyed. She stretched her toes against her opposite calf, relief flooding through her for once.

“I know, I know. I’ll be careful next time.” She sighed, the other side of the conversation grumbling in her ear. “I mean,” She smiled, correcting herself,
“there wont be a next time. I promise.” She bit her lower lip playfully, one hand behind her back, two fingers crossed.

It was an unintentional game she played; promising him she’d be more careful next time when they both knew the type of game they played never allowed promises.

Chloe glanced behind her, seeing the rest of the crew growing restless out there.
“Hey, I got to go. Will I hear from you soon?“

A smile.

“Alright. Thanks again. Thank you. Good night.”

She sighed, taking another deep breath right after it.

After gathering herself up, Chloe left the copy room and into the bull pen to join her crew.

“Well, good news everyone!”

Lois and Jimmy turned.

Chloe smiled at them both, then searched for Clark in the dark.

He wasn’t there.

“Clark?”

She frowned, and then scanned again. Nothing.

She blinked, turning to both of them sitting at the computer. “Where’s Clark?”


**
**

It was an inky type of night.

The Post evening edition promised a chance of showers but failed to mention the humidity that lingered, turning the air into a stale, soured breath.

The streets were slick, and sticky. A damper to most citizens of Star City but there were a few strangling individuals that leapt at the opportunity to play at night.

Like weevils, criminals furrowed deep into Star City these days. So much so that its crime waves could be compared to that of Gotham City. No one could really explain it, but there was a strange correlation between Star City's elevation of crime and its sister city‘s, Metropolis, steep decline. Perhaps the average felon grew tired of that mysterious hero in the red and blue, and fled its city limits.
Scattering to the surrounding bright lights.

Some other heroes in the neighboring cities couldn't keep up. Take care of their city.

Other heroes, but not him. Not the Green Arrow.

He’d sworn to himself and to the papers two weeks ago that Arrow was going to take back Star City’s unprecedented prosperity and growth.

Tonight he stood atop the old clock tower, his hood and shades covering much of his face. One hand held a highly sophisticated compound bow, his other hand against his ear piece.



"Of course, Sullivan. You're identity's safe. I ripped the tapes once I saw one of Luthor‘s labs were tripped." His voice was low, and dangerous when it was manipulated electronically. He really didn’t need the voice changer with her, since they both knew that she knew his alias since day one. But it was the standard operating procedure when he was in her green gear. And besides, he could tell she liked it when they kept up the charade.

A playful smile crept across his lips, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see it there.

"Don't worry about the guards, they only have eye witness accounts to go on. Most of them aren’t even credible to stand in court. And I sent a few of my personal crew to clean up the mess you made. Now Chloe--" He rarely used her first name, but after tonight, he needed to really get her attention.


"Chloe, promise me you wont go into this stuff alone, again." He said, the voice changer concealing his concern. "I know you wont stop investigating Lex but digging this deep alone, you'll end up buried."

He lifted his boot on the roof ledge, resting his bow arm across his knee as he removed his dark glasses revealing a pair of deep brown eyes. "Chloe, you and I both have worked too hard to make any irreversible mistakes now. What you did tonight was dangerous. And that,” he gritted his teeth, “that idiot you brought along, was just careless."

He knew that she didn’t know he knew about him. But then again, Chloe kept secrets from him too.

“Alright.” The green archer cleared his throat, suppressing any disquiet from his voice. “I’ll be in touch. Remember. Be careful.”

His eyes grazed over Star City’s skyscrapers. It was close to midnight now, but the city was still very much awake, streets illuminated below in a orange tinted glow. He followed the trail of red taillights traveling west on the interstate that stretched well out of view. He imagined the distance from himself to Metropolis as she whispered once more, hanging up.

“Goodnight.” He whispered before he disconnected, and breathed.

He’d come through tonight. Like always. But what about tomorrow, or the next night?

At this rate, he wasn’t sure he could keep up with the intrepid little blonde that bounced from one batch of trouble to the next. Honestly, she was worse than Bart Allen. Double the snark too.

He smiled.



Well, he thought warmly, at least she’s cuter.




The wind picked up, and with it, the Arrow’s sixth senses.

"Stay right where you are." He said, already turned, arrow aimed.

A dark figure stood across from him, waiting.

He placed his bow’s sights on its chest, the heart.

It moved.

“I said, stay were you are!” He pulled back the string, ready to fire.

It stopped.

“You and I both know that arrow wont work on me.”

Oliver recognized the voice.

“Clark Kent.” He released the tension of the bow gradually, removing his aim.

He watched the other figure move once more until its form broke through the shadows to reveal that Clark wasn’t in his gear tonight. Just a blue dress shirt, tie and glasses. Those awful glasses.

“Oliver Queen.” Clark spoke, monotone.

Oliver pushed back his hood that covered his blonde spiky hair and stepped forward. There wasn’t any need for appearances tonight. They’d known each
other for a few years now. Both had worked together a few of times, but neither of them enjoyed doing so.

They were both heroes. And both had the same cause at heart. But they just couldn’t agree on one fundamental thing…

“You’ve been helping her again, haven’t you?”

From Oliver’s ear’s it sounded more like a threat than a question.

“Me? Help? Help who, Kent? I help a lot of people, it’s kinda my job.” Oliver brushed him off, turning back towards the skyline. He really didn’t need the third degree from the guy who refused to answers questions of his own. For instance, how did Clark manage to skip the two hour drive from Metropolis to Star City, hunt Oliver down on a random roof top? Oliver didn’t bother asking. He already knew Clark would just ignore the question or divert it with one of his own.

He heard Clark growl behind him, “Don’t act like you don’t understand.”

“Well then you’ll have to be clearer with your questions,” Oliver smirked, reveling in how easily it was to twist the other guy up. After years of running into him while working with Chloe, he’d discovered how little tolerance Clark had for Oliver’s smart mouth. “I mean, you do work at a newspaper don’t you Kent? You should know how to question a guy--”

“Chloe. You’ve been leading Chloe closer and closer to danger and I’m stopping it. Now.”

That last syllable was firm, and angry. Up until this point Oliver hadn’t really seen Clark angry. Irritated and annoyed, yes. But never angry. The guy was always stoic.

He turned around, and studied the man who stood a few inches taller than himself. He was bigger too, a bulkier build. But that didn’t matter. Oliver still thought the guy was harmless. A boy scout.

“Don’t come here, to my city, and start making accusations.” Oliver stared him down.

“First of all,” Oliver made his way around Clark, resting his bow across his shoulder. He looked up, and there Clark was, right in front of him again.




How does he do that?




You would think Oliver, with his trimmer, muscular and agile build would be faster than Clark, but, he wasn’t.

Oliver looked up, his brown eyes narrowed. “First of all, don’t do that. It’s really creepy. Chill out.” He moved past him again. “Second of all, I never gave Chloe the green light to break into Lex’s facility tonight. She did that all on her own.”

“She had schematics of the building, schematics provided by you and all the equipment you’ve donated to her--”

“Equipment provided to her for her job, Clark. Her job.” He whipped around, feeling the anger bubble up inside of him too, “Queen Industries provides a multitude of technology to the employees of the Daily Planet, filling the vacuum in places where the standard, LuthorCorp, is prohibited!”

“That’s how you’re going to play it, huh, Oliver? It’s all just business to you?” Clark dangerously narrowed his eyes. “You don’t really care how things can get done, or who gets hurt in the process. Just as long as business is finished in the end.”

“You really don’t have any clue, do you?” Oliver sized him up, stopping just inches from Clark’s nose. Clark may have had a few inches on him, but Oliver gained those back with the glaring intensity and the way his body toughened up, muscles flexed and taut.

“You were the one who got hurt tonight, Clark.” Oliver’s fists balled, ready to take a swing at the boy scout’s jaw.

He would, if he thought it would affect him.

“You’re always bumbling around, hiding behind this fake charade, the flimsy plastic frames? How many times are you going to follow her around, acting like her almighty savior? You’re sad, you know that? Because for once, you royally screwed up. You almost exposed her to Lex, offering her right up if it wasn’t for my surveillance on the total screw up. And, you also managed to get shot in the process creating an even bigger mess to clean up. Thanks a lot, Clark. Retrieving all that blood you left behind trail was really easy under the circumstances.”

Clark didn’t move, nor change from his stoic expression, but Oliver could see uncertainty creep within his blue eyes, clouding over.

Oliver continued, confident he was gaining some ground.

“Oh and don’t worry about all those camera feeds you managed to fill up with your bulky presence.” He looked the thick shouldered man up and down. “Yeah, I did a little reconnaissance to save your butt, Kent. Yours and everyone else’s you put in jeopardy tonight with your carelessness.”

Clark dropped his eyes, blinking for the first time tonight, Oliver thought. Oliver breathed a sigh of relief, letting his eyes rest as well.

“Chloe shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Clark said in a low, less confident voice.

“Yeah well,” Oliver snorted sorely, “Sullivan goes a lot of places she’s not supposed to. She’s a driven individual that doesn’t stop just because you or I tell her it’s too dangerous. She’s a real spitfire. That’s what makes her Sullivan.”

“This is Lex Luthor, Oliver. There has to be boundaries--”

“She’s a big girl, Clark. She can make her own decisions about her own boundaries. Although I’m not sure she was any. She‘s quite a woman.” Oliver said, walking off again.

He heard Clark behind him. “I’m not going to just stand by and let her wander closer to Lex.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Really?” He turned on his heel, “Because it seems like that’s exactly what you have been doing. Right, Clark? Following her around, hiding in shadows, you practically are her shadow. Yet you’ve never actually stopped her from doing anything.”

He watched Clark’s jaw grow tighter. Oliver smirked, knowing he’d hit another weak spot.

“I’ve had to save her countless of times because of the situations you encourage her into.” Clark finally said. “Maybe if she didn’t have a--”

“A what-- a partner? Someone who helps her, looks out for her?” The archer pointed his eyes. “Clark, even if I hadn’t helped her all these years you and I both know she’s still be out there, fighting for truth and justice against men like Luthor just as she is now. At least now she has a partner. And don’t think I don’t look out for her. Don‘t think I don‘t care about her.”

That last part sort of slipped out from Oliver’s mouth, but he didn’t care.

He and Clark stood there for a moment, the ambience of Star City filling the silence between them. Off in the distance Oliver could heard sirens. He turned towards it, readying his repelling line on his bow.


“I don’t want to see her hurt.”

Oliver nodded, placing his dark glasses and hood back on. “Good. At least we agree on that.”

And with that, the Green Arrow shot a high arching line across rooftops, securing a zip line that would carry him through the jungle of buildings, chasing the amber lights that called to him every night.





chapter thirteen