TFTEAM p6

the few times you ever asked me


1 //2//3//4//5//6 // 7




part ?

Season: 5, after Hidden. The one with those silos, Clark gets shot, dies and then comes back to life with his powers and saves the day with Chloe. This takes place after the whole "talk" at the end in the barn.



*

I've made a terrible mistake.


It was in his eyes.

Something other than Clark had died that night.

Somewhere deep behind the shades of pale green , beneath the gloss and ice that was his armor. ­

Chloe sat beside him in silence, her own eyes open and vulnerable to every second that Clark remained silent.  She didn't need armor when he was in these moods. Dark, and twisted up like a strong, mysterious wind that threatened to unwind and take everything. But it was in her experience that the turmoil Clark kept beneath the surface would calm with time. Calm, but stir with an unrest that would confine Clark to the burdened responsibilities that came with being who he was.

They were both in the loft. His arms crossed over his torso, covering the lame bandage that he had shown to her underneath his shirt, taped to his ribs.

His skin was warm, she remembered long after she had touched there.

But only hours ago, Clark Kent was pronounced dead.

Hours ago, Chloe Sullivan watched her best friend take a bullet in the very same spot he was cradling now, a red pool soaking his shirt as he fell to gravel. It was horrible watching Clark suffer and die. Something she thought would never happen, would never see. Chloe becoming used to the idea that Clark was invulnerable, safe.
 But it seemed even Clark Kent could break. Nothing was certain, and nothing was safe.

 Nothing was safe.

She wouldn't be able to remember his sweet face without the bitter stains and the awful smell. She shook her head then, eyes shutting so strongly to wipe out any memory of the blood.

 She needed safer memories.

This memory of right now, sitting with him like they always had before.


He is alive.


He is alive, she said once more in thought.

She opened her eyes now, seeing him again in the warm glow of the barn. How his dark side burns framed the angles of his face and how strained the muscles were. He looked like a wolf, staring into something hidden in the dark corners of the barn.
His eyes were exactly where they had been for the last half hour. Staring ahead, glassed over and stone. They were asking for Chloe to leave.
 But she hadn't moved.

Instead,  her fingers moved across his jaw, uncharacteristic traces of his dark beard showing.

He bristled. "Chloe, I want to be alone."

"No, you don't."

"Yes," he growled, turning to her, "I do."

Clark was angry, but Chloe had faced worse monsters. She tamed this one with the smooth of her hand, his eyes drifting closed.

"Clark," she spoke softly in the dim light, "you already feel alone. You died, Clark. I can't imagine how that feels."

He gently stopped her hand, and returned it to her. "I just want to be alone so I can think." His eyes opened, but not on her. "I can't be around anyone right now."

A hot knife, it pierced right above the heart. Her throat closed from the burn, but that was good. She had to reel in her crushed emotions before she could think of what witty remark to say. Chloe couldn't explain why she felt so... guilty for wanting to be with him. She had came here to console Clark, but clearly he didn't need her pep talk, or her shoulder to lean on.

And as she studied Clark's closed posture, she realized, she had came here to console herself. Clark was alive, and she needed to see it. To see him. Even sharper knives struck when she thought Clark might not exist anymore in this barn. Sitting here, with her.

"Okay, Clark." she said with resignation, "I'll leave."Because she had gotten what she needed, reassurance that nothing had changed. Clark was still on this earth, his powers restored and with it, maybe the security that Clark would be invulnerable to the next bullet. 

 But she couldn't help the way she stomped down the stairs. Chloe was tired of going out on the limb, of taking chances with her emotions. She was tired of reaching out to Clark only to have her tenderness bounced back at her as if she were speaking to a brick wall.

 Really, she was just tired.

"Chloe."

She almost stopped, her stutter step down obvious to both of them. But she kept going, shoulders small and feelings hurt, once again.

She had even worn her pink top, she thought, shaking her head.

She made it outside the barn, Clark's work boots right behind her. It was chillier outside where her car waited on the driveway. Or perhaps that was her, ignoring Clark's hand on her shoulder.

He turned her around. "Chloe, I'm sorry."

She believed him, the way his eyes looked desperate and... sad.

She hated it.

"Which is it, Clark? Do you want me to stay or go?"

His hand dropped, his image in flat inky blacks lent from the void of night.

Chloe listened as the words failed to speak from his lips, hers straightening into the thinnest of lines.

A bitter smile, but a smile.

She could still smile.

But it dissolved as Clark's stare grew and burned through her.  He was in pain, not in body but in mind. His conscious so heavy she thought it might pour if it wasn't for the dry, coldness of his eyes.

 She would never  leave him like this.

So she pushed her own frustrations aside, making room for the burden she was willing to share with Clark. Because, she knew, he didn't want her to go.

Clark's shoulders deflated, eerily sweeping the dark hair away from his eyes. "It's just... I don't know what will happen."

Chloe blinked up at him, the wind carrying her golden hair too, "No one knows what will happen, Clark. That's life."

"You don't understand." He shook his head, eyes boring into hers, "Jor-El is going
to take a life to replace the one he has given me. I can't bear that on my conscious."

"You didn't know what would happen--"

"But I could have prevented it!" He threw up his hands, marching back to the barn in retreat.

Chloe followed. "We all make mistakes, its OK!"

"It's not! Because now someone has to pay for mine." He turned back and growled,
"It could be anyone. My mom, my dad, Lana... it could even be you!"

 Chloe stopped, the real possibility hitting her hard. But she quickly filed it aside, "Okay, fine. What if it is me, then? If I'm going to die--"

"Don't say that!" Clark grit his teeth, storming up the stairs.

She took a deep breath, following him up there too.  "It could happen to me, Clark. Next week, tomorrow..." She paused, gauging his eyes. "Or it could be tonight, Clark. If this is the last night we ever saw each other, why be alone?"

Clark shifted. His arms dropped to his sides in surrender, armor in pieces on the floor.Chloe walked across it, closing the brief distance.

It was always only brief.

They had ended up right where they started, on top of the loft stairs, looking upon each other.Only, the time had gone, and it was late now. The lights in the yellow farm house extinguished and quiet.

It was quiet up there, the two alone. And it seemed that the old wooden parts of barn were listening to their voices, casting a passive eye that Chloe felt had always existed on the Kent Farm. She had always felt safe there.

There was a single string of lights that had existed above the bay window for so long, always shining upon the old red, white and blue flag. It stood as strongly as Clark did.

"Why don't you hate me?"

Chloe stood back, drowning in the perplexity of his question."You know I could never. "

"But why?" Clark sounded again, his voice rising. "Everything that I do blows up in my face and hurts the people I love!"

That word.

That last word.

Clark blinked back his anger, reeling backwards to the couch. But he didn't sit, his legs too stubborn to let go.

Chloe looked down at the creaking boards as she walked across to him, refusing to look up until she was practically standing on his toes. But when she peered up to his face, she enjoyed feat of it.

 The way she tilted her chin all the way up.

 He was so tall.

"Clark," she said carefully, and then trailed off.

There were four words that hovered over them in that loft. She had said them once, last year actually during one of their perpetual meteor escapades. And strangely, it was in this very same spot on the familiar red couch. Yet in very different circumstances and even if separated by a single year, she had said them in a different era of their relationship, with a distant naivety of what those words meant. They had gotten so far in a year, the bond between Clark and Chloe strengthened now. With secrets and trusts between them, and those words still ever a secret that neither had ever mentioned to each other since.

 But even if she was influenced by a little green rock, the words, they weren't forced from her. And they wouldn't be coerced now. They would fall just as easily from her lips if Clark ever asked to hear them.

And now by the way of the night and the tension of the room, she felt them almost tumble from her mouth. By the way Clark tensed up, she knew that he was anticipating them too.

He looked skiddish, and scared. But maybe even a little, eager? Like a boy who anticipated his first kiss. Chloe knew that boy once. And even more strangely, had met him in yet this very exact spot.

Funny.

"Clark," she started again with more confidence, "the people who love you could never stop." It was a graze across her open wound, but she would survive it.

"I can make them stop." Clark said in disdain. The words were bitter, too bitter.

"You don't mean that." Chloe said, challenging them.

"You're always so sure of what I'm thinking, or what I'm feeling, aren't you?" He said scornfully.

Chloe narrowed her eyes, "Yes, I am."

Clark smiled bitterly.

"What? Am I wrong?" Chloe stepped up again, "Do you really want everyone you care about out of your life, for good?" She was up to his toes again , her blonde hair tousled from the heat of the argument.

"Yes." Clark lied through his teeth, a shaking in his bones. Clark was an unnatural liar, and had never learned. But he wouldn't let her win this argument, not this one. Not when he was this wound up. He needed to win, something.

Chloe saw through his shut off eyes, down to the core of the boy he still was. He was defiant, and stubborn, and now through all the years of lying to protect the people around him, callous.

"Fine." Chloe said evenly, her body as close to his as the warm air. "If this is what you really want."

"It is." Clark said sternly, refusing to move a single muscle more than he needed to. He was solid in is answer, therefore solid in his stance.

Chloe on the other hand did move, but not towards the stairs. Towards him.

Her small hands grabbed his shirt collar and yanked down, a faint ripping of fabric in the loft.

"Goodbye, Clark."

And then she kissed him.

Hard.

And it took Clark a moment before he realized what had hit him because her lips were soft, but insistent, and he barely had enough time to bring his hands around her arms before she pulled away.

The moment over.

"What was that for?" Clark said, confused and... breath taken.

"That was goodbye." Chloe said coldly, turning around faster than a hurricane to storm down the stairs.

Clark willed his feet to move and follow her again to the dirt drive for the second time of the night. "No, that wasn't goodbye, Chloe. That was something else."

She laughed wanly as she reached her car, "Goodbye, Clark." She opened the car door.
Clark's firmly planted hand slammed it shut. "Why did you kiss me like that? Answer me, Chloe!"

"Because!" She spun around, and it was the tears that caught his eyes. "You died today, Clark. You died. My best friend, and I never thought I would see you again. But now," she sighed heavily, more tears raining down, "Now you're here, and alive again and all I want to do is see you happy. It used to be that easy, remember? We'd hang out in your loft and just be happy.  But these days, you're never happy, Clark. And it hurts me that I'm not that person that makes you happy anymore. That I'll never be--"

"You do make me happy." Clark said, taking her shoulder in one of his bulky hands.

"Clearly, I don't." She wiped her eyes, make up smearing there.

"You do," Clark insisted, wanting to tell her how much of a thrill he felt when she has kissed him, and how much of a thrill he was feeling now just thinking about it. But how could he tell her all of his anger had melted away when she had done it? That would be admitting too much. "You make me happy, I just don't know how to show it." He watched her roll her eyes, shoulders shrinking in. He held them together, his other hand folding around the curve of her arm. He had her now, and she couldn't run away. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm not apologizing for being able to show my emotions, Clark. Unlike you."

"I'm not asking you to." He stared down at her down cast eyes.

She wouldn't even look at him now.

"Please..." His voice was soft now, so contrasted from the edginess that had crept inside of him all night. But all that was gone. And for a moment, Chloe felt old Clark beside her.

She granted his wish, looking up with red eyes and a hard stare.

"Chloe," he started, taking a breath, watching her spiteful eyes dance around the temptation of more tears. He felt terrible, even more guilty now than before. Could he take it away and start over?

His arms folded around her, and pulled her in, making her body have no other choice but to collide with his in the tightest of hugs. Her head pressed up against his chest, her eyes closed and wet.

"No."

He heard it against his chest, but felt the word as she pushed away from him. Chloe unraveled herself from his arms, something she had never done before, escaping to her car,  promptly starting the engine and then drove away.

This all happened before Clark could react, very unlike him at all. He couldn't figure out why she had broken their sacred hug, they always stopped fighting after that.

Clark cursed under his breath, watching as the tail lights fell away.


*


Her red bug made it to the dorm rooms in a fury, Chloe not even paying attention to the red numbers of the speedometer or the honking around her. She parked, crookedly, in her designated spot and then took the stairs two at a time to tire herself out of the mix of anger and frustration Clark had transferred onto her. She was angry, yes. Angry for being as vulnerable as she was, swearing to never feel this way again. She pictured herself as that old movie actress, picking up that last carrot in the overturned farm, biting down and then swearing against the moody sky to never be hungry again.

But that only reminded her of Clark again, so she stomped up more stairs until she reached the eleventh floor and dragged herself into the hallway.

She had successfully wore herself out, running up flights of stairs and being miserable the entire way. She was ready to curl into a ball in her bed and sleep, thinking to herself she wouldn't have to wake up early--

Clark.

"Clark." She said disdainfully, seeing him waiting at the door. "Go away."
She made made it there in under two hours, he had probably sped there in under three seconds. This made her even more irritated at him. "You know, I liked you better when you didn't have your powers."

"Shh.." Clark caught her elbow and led her away from the door before she could turn the key.

She pulled away, "I left Clark, I left. So why are you here?"

"I didn't think you would really leave."

"No?"

Clark shook his head, clearly confused. "No."

Chloe blinked at him, and then walked past to her door. "That's what you wanted, right? For me to leave you in your grief and pout."

"It was," Clark stopped her again, "But you never let me have what I want. That's what surprised me."

Chloe laughed sourly and a little too loudly, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Clark hushed her, not wanting a crowd in the dorm hallway in the middle of the night. "It means, that you usually find a way to convince me to change my mind and do it your way."

"Thanks," she laughed again, eyes closed, "Thanks for calling me a controlling bitch."

"I didn't say that!" Clark shouted between a whisper and gritted teeth.

"Remind me again why you're here?" Chloe whisper/shouted back.

Clark took a breath to calm down, his face winding down. "I didn't want you to leave, you know that."

Her eyes rolled and rolled, "How would I know that? I have no idea what you're really thinking or feeling, remember?"

"God, Chloe! Do you want me to just go, and leave like this?" Clark stamped his boot, twice when he saw her turn away. "I tried to say I'm sorry, but you pulled away from me and ran off, so I came here to apologize again, but this is it. I'm not apologizing anymore!"

Clark stared at the profile of her face, wondering when she would finally look at him, say something.

Anything.

But she didn't.

"OK, I'll leave." Clark said, studying her unusual silence, "Since I don't read minds either, and since you have nothing else to say to me."

Her body quivered with fear, the first time in her life she might actually be saying goodbye to Clark. And she wasn't saying anything to stop it.

His hand grabbed her arm, "But I'm not going without saying goodbye, the way you did."

Her face turned up and towards him, or rather, his hand behind her neck did that.

And Clark kissed her, hard. Much the same as she did earlier to him.

But this kiss lasted longer, long enough for Chloe to taste the bitterness in Clark melt away into something else...

His hands were over her, her neck, her sides, her waist...

Soon, all was forgotten what the fight was about.

Soon, all they remembered was each other.

Clark released her from his lips, cradling them against her forehead instead. They were close, hips were still planted into hers all the way to  the bulk of his work boots standing next to her tiny sandals. Clark held her there, aware that she might pull away again, but strangely sure that she wouldn't this time.

He did feel her move against him, but it was to look up, her eyes wide and confused.

He answered her question without her asking, "That was for goodbye."

She shook her head.

"Isn't that what you said to me?" Clark asked softly, holding her head up with his hands. She seemed too weak to do it on her own. He watched her throat struggle to work, her lips still bruised red and swollen from his kiss.

She shivered, and then whispered, "We both know that's not what that is."

Clark shrugged off his red jacket, covering her with it. She was barely wearing anything, just that tiny tank top. "Then, what is it?"

Chloe held onto his jacket, clumped around her smaller body. He thought she was cold, but she wasn't. Her shiver and chills came from him. And his jacket did it to her worse. It was like he was on top of her now, his scent around her.

Clark let her be silent, relieved that at least she wasn't turning away from him, relieved that at least she had let him cover her with his jacket. In the smallest way, he felt her wanting him to continue on protecting her. He could still do that.

"I don't want to be alone." Clark said, no longer ashamed to say it.

Chloe took a long look at Clark, forming sentences from his thoughts and then reading his mind. That, she could do, sometimes. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." Clark said, his eyes hopeful that she would go too.

Chloe smiled a little, "My car's downstairs and I have half a tank of gas."

Clark smiled wide, the first real smile of the night. "Chloe, you're funny."

She frowned, but that was before he picked her up in one sweep, carrying her down the hallway. "You may like me better without my powers, but that's because you hardly got to enjoy them."

"Clark," she said in a weary voice, "we're not about to--"

"Super-speed to New York?"

She looked at him.

"Los Angeles?" He asked, continuing down the hall with her in his arms.

She continued to look at him.

"Phuket?"

"Thailand?" She said, squinting her eyes, "That's an entirely different continent. How are we going to--"

"I can run across water." He said matter of factly. "I guess you didn't know that. I barely figured it out last year, too."

"Quit kidding me, Clark." She felt a whip of air, finding them outside already, the dorm building way off on the corner street.

Whoa.

"I don't kid." He said to her, seriously now, and with the most sincere, secret smile directed at her. "If this could be the last day, I want you to spent it with me, and the world. I can take you anywhere, and everywhere if you wanted." His eyes darted to her lips before the sky, the lights of downtown Metropolis and then back to her.

He was there, willing to take her anywhere. Was it guilt that drove him back to her? That this could possibly be the last day for her? The gears began to turn in her mind, the real reason why Clark wouldn't set her on her feet surfacing.

"You think if you leave me, something will happen to me."

He looked her over, not denying it.

She motioned for him to put her down, and he did, reluctantly.

"Look," she said walking back to the dorm, "We can't run away to some distant island and forget about everyone else. I'm not the only one who could be in danger."

"I don't want to run away." Clark said beside her, "And I haven't forgotten about everyone else. I just don't want to lose you."

"You wont." Chloe promised, "Clark, you wouldn't let anything happen to me. I know that. So, go home. Get some sleep. We're both tired."

He stopped, wanting to obey her wishes, watching her cross the street towards the building where he had captured her from. When he had died, everything had been alright. Clark had erased himself, and all of the future problems that he was sure would surface. Clark wouldn't have had to worry about all the small things, or the big things. He didn't have to worry about destiny because he was already there. He didn't feel any guilt or burden, in fact, he remembered not feeling anything at all.

Death was like a release, a reset of his life, and he had been robbed of it. Jor-El forcing him back into this life by stealing someone else's.

But whose was it?

He watched Chloe become smaller in the distance, covering most of her.

Clark was stuck between the remorse of leaving and the guilt of returning back. Either way, someone would pay for his mistakes. He had to find a way to repay it himself. He had to find a way to fix it, to make the best of this life he had now.

Chloe being there made it better for Clark. Because, she did make him happy. With her, everything made sense. Through anger, or frustration. It mattered. Meant something. Clark felt, something, instead of nothing. Because she cared so much, it made him care.

He cared more than he thought was possible.

There were cars passing, Metropolis always moving even in the middle of the night.

He shouted over the traffic, "I can't do any of this without you, Chloe Sullivan!"

She looked back, and smiled, he thought. That was before she opened the door, leaving him on the corner, alone.

And he didn't want to be.



*


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