Go By // Chapter 15

Chapter 15 / part 1

***

With the wind, he let her go.

Papers fluttering.

Flying.

Suspended in time.

It was then that Clark caught one in the air, the moment. The part where Clark faced an open horizon, staring into a gateway of truths, a pair of bright hazel eyes that broke even pure darkness. If he closed his eyes, he would paint them from memory. By years of stolen glances and childhood stories, recited again and again to make them  alive, real.

She was there.

In that forgotten room.

Where ancient computers laid dormant for years. Where two giant wooden desk  kept track of lost time by the layers of dust left behind. Where file cabinets stood regally, drawers overflowing with abandoned stories.  And where the old Crows banners rested against the wall, slumped to the floor, the wind that once brought them life now moved on from this place.

They were here.

At the beginning.

No matter how desperately he changed his path, every decision led to this very place. This coveted chapter of his life, stored in journals and fragile news print.

It would all turn to dust, he knew. But Clark refused to let go. If there was ever something more beautiful in the world, it was lost to him. Everything was there, including her. Returning to their fountain of youthful ideals, to feel like he belonged somewhere. And after all these years, he knew that she belonged there with him.

She moved, a rustle from her dress breaking the silence.

Her hands were still cuffed together, but with a twitch he had her loose, and across the room again. He threw the mangled loops of metal on the desk, and backed away from them.


He was losing it.

 The world was taking it all away. Every memory, instant, even this one was threatened.  The misguided, the wrongful justice. The slanting of truth that a younger pair of Clark and Chloe would never stand for.

Chloe Sullivan charged with Lex Luthor's murder?

Clark stared from across the room, his face shadowed and worn.

Her face.

She was scared.

And when she looked at him, he felt the youth and beauty crumble to ash. Clark felt this compelling need to pick it all back up again, to start from the beginning and erase everything out, startingwith himself.

If only he could save one beautiful thing in this world..


 Perhaps that's what he had done. Taking her from that place and planting her here. To keep here where things were once safe. Too many years stolen from him while she was away. He knew that now. She wasn't supposed to leave.

 His ears beat incessantly with her over there, watching him and what he would do.

Waiting.

He looked at her again, nerves building. Slowly, rationality was reabsorbing in his hands. Excitement, her there with him turning into panic. The same fingers that had once itched to revisit the smallest warmth of her skin gradually changing into calloused and cold.

Cold.

Clark saw again the wintry scope of where Brainiac had taken him only hours ago. He had been shone his destiny and he couldn't let go. Not now.

Clark squeezed his fists, accepting the sadness that came along with his returning defenses.  He couldn't afford losing himself now.

They were both in danger.
Clark forced scrutiny in his stare, studying her face, indecipherable and perfect. Her hair, flustered and awry, evidence of the extra speed Clark had taken to get them here. And her eyes..
She knew.
 That scared him worst.

She already knew.

His secret.

 Clark swallowed fear, and spoke first,

 "You don't seem very surprised."


Chloe shook her head very slowly, never taking her eyes off of him. She half expected him to speed from one corner of the room to the other, unsure of how he would react, revealing what he could do. She supposed she should thank him for saving her before she was arrested for Lex Luthor's murder, but should she? Did she need evading arrest on her record too? Did she even know who her hero really was? Everything she ever knew about Clark Kent turned fiction, the truth shedding light to the worst of secrets. Maybe she knew too much.

"No, not really." Chloe slinked across the tile floor, patting the small clutch in reassurance, "Although I am surprised that you took me here."

Watching Clark stalk in the shadows reminded her of all the other times she had felt his prescence and lied to herself that he wasn't there. If Clark could be everywhere at a blink of an eye, then it was all...

Real.

Chloe blinked several times, burning patterns over his thick muscular frame. She was waiting for him to disappear, to evaporate to vanish in a gust of wind that she only now correlated with him.

A shiver ran through her, battling with a warmth in her core.  She felt a phantom limb around her shoulders, around her neck. It was his fingers. She could still feel his fingers around her, a fading essence that had been over instances ago.

It turned cold, the abscence filling with a growing gap of silence inbetween.

Questions.

Questions filled her mind, all of them in rapid succession that her tongue knew it wouldn't be able to keep up.
This was Clark. If she ever needed to break an enigma that controlled her life, it would be him. Now, she had him.

Testing the waters, she took a step closer.

"It's safe here." Clark said defensively, guarding himself by the other end of the desk, "I had to take you someplace, and this was the first I thought of."

Chloe took note of the block between them and smiled, saving her journastic hat for later. She knew better than to take the direct approach. She would manuver her way around him like she would that desk. 

Chloe looked about the room, dimly lit by a single desk lamp in the corner.  There were dark cutouts of familiar shapes lining the walls, newspaper clippings and unremembered objects she left behind as a girl.

Memories.

There on the table was an old edition of the Torch.  She picked it up, the paper yellow and fragile. As she set it back down, her fingers carved marks in the dust. "Looks like the Torch has seen better days."

"It was never the same after you left."

Her fingers stopped tracing.

Chloe peaked over her shoulder, "Maybe we should talk about how we got here, Clark. You know, from the middle of Metropolis to Smallville in less than a heart--."




Beat




Clark heard  it again.

Again.
And the rustle of her evening gown she wore, evidence that he had plucked her from a very different scene entirely. He could hear the the orchestra from the ballroom miles away, mingling with her heart that raced in tempo..

He nodded stiffly, forcing himself to focus, "I can explain."

"No need," Chloe smiled, and there was that expression again, that look in her eyes. Was it admiration? Clark dismissed that hopeful thought, shaking his head as he stared selfconsciously at his feet. "I know Clark. I know about your abilities."

His boots were worn down through the leather, he hadn't noticed that before. "I guess you've known for sometime."

"I had my suspicions." She gathered the hem of her dress in her hands, shuffling over to the worn old couch against the wall. She remembered a time when they had spent hours laughing uncontrollably about a joke that she couldn't recall anything about now.

For hours, she remembered.
 "To be honest," Chloe rejoined the room, "I've thought about it before. I guess it all started here." She looked around nostaligically, at the stack of year books and the wall of framed articles. She sat down, rich emerald cloth riding up her pale, slender calves. "I guess once you chase after a myth for so long, it becomes true."

The sound of her heels dropping to the floor startled him.

"And worse," Chloe continued, her eyes caught in retrospect, "you become what you're chasing."

Clark traced the outline of her bare feet, turning away once she caught him, tucking them under.

"The Wall of Weird..." he heard her laugh wistfully behind him, "God, I remember how upset you were when I showed it to you years ago. I never understood why, but I guess now after all this time, memories become clearer. It all makes sense now."

Clark followed her eyes, the emptiness of the wall transferring into his chest.

She studied him carefully, "I'm sorry Clark."

He looked to her.

"It started as a billboard of evidence for victims of the  meteor shower and ended up a fugitive hit list for the real victims that you and I became."

Clark winced. "Chloe, you didn't know."

"Yeah, that's the worst." Her head bent down, "If I had only known, right? There's so many questions..." If all this time, if she had only known. If she had never used the Torch in a witch hunt.

If she had known herself?

She looked up finally after a long moment of saying nothing. "Do you think we would have still been friends?"

Clark crossed the room, his chest shaking. "We are friends."

"Are we, Clark?" Her lips whispered, a tear dropping between them.

"We've always been friends. Even if we've been apart, we've always been friends." His ears listened to her chest speak, and speak, calling to him. But he couldn't think about that now. He had to...

His eyes focused on her lips, swollen and whimpering. He closed his eyes. "As a friend, I can't let you martyr yourself for the death of Lex Luthor. You didn't do it."

The tension released from the room with a sigh. It was hers, her hand smoothing her gown.

"You and I know the truth," She wiped her eyes, watching him carefully, "But the police don't believe my story and why would they? The building evidence against me and my crippled amnesia aliby..." She laughed sourly, "not to mention I'm a meteor infected. I'm sure prosecutors are going to love that. I'm practically burning at the stake."

Clark winced, watching another tear trace a path down her cheek, "How long have you known about your abilities?" And how long had he not known?

"Years." Chloe said quietly, her eyes revealing that this was a tender subject. "And you?"

"Years." Clark repeated under a choked whisper.

Chloe nodded absently,  flipping through an old year book sitting on the cusion beside her. Black and white pages, photos of scattered faces, both the infected and their victims all in neat little one inch boxes.

Lost.


"You'd think real friends would tell eachother something like that." Chloe gazed unfocused at the faces. "If I could do it all again, I would have told you Clark."

Her tear slipped from her lips and onto the binding.

"If we were together and I had known. I would've like to have a friend that knew about me." She said, smiling through a grimace.

Friends lost in the abyss of regret.
Clark battled himself, his eyes hot and strained.  "Chloe, there's something I need to tell you." Everything. He needed to tell her everything if he were ever to leave this place. All the pain that he collected in his mind, tied around the beauty that he now realized was meant for someone else's life, not his. He didn't deserve it.

He didn't deseve her.  The way she looked at him, the way she made him feel.

Clark bit down his jaw, feeling the anger that came with self loathing. He was the real freak. He was the monster. And he deserved to be looked at like one.

Outside and through the blinds, lightning lit up the room followed by a crack of thunder.

 Rain.

"Chloe, I can't lie to you anymore--"

"Clark wait, " he looked up at her, confused when she took his hand, "I can't lie to you either." This she said before  pulling something from her small purse kept close to her lap.

Instantly, Clark was terrified what it would be. He expected a traitorous piece of meteor rock, something he deserved. He wanted it, the physical pain, the repentance for all the pain he had caused. But instead, it was--

His glasses.


Clark touched his face, never noticing that the smallest of his identity had been missing at all.

She had it, she had him.

 "No more lies." She set them in his hand. " No more disguises."




*


"Where did she go?" Angry Metropolis PD detective Maggie Sawyer asked, arms crossed.

Billionaire and host Oliver Queen searched the ballroom floor, returning with a puzzled expression of his own. Oliver knew that wherever Kent had taken her she would be safe, for now. You could bet that Green Arrow was formulating a plan, but right now, it was Oliver Queen who needed to shuffle the cards and keep the house's hand in the black.

"Sullivan!" Sawyer pushed her way past him, searching the crowd of faces. Disatisfied that the tiny blonde wasn't hiding behind the broad shouldered, brown eyed stud, she spat out orders for her task squad to cover the building. "I'll find her Mr. Queen. Justice always wins in the end."

Justice, Oliver smirked chugging down the rest of his champagne. He played up his left brow for the flash bulbs, and cued the orchestra to keep their bows singing.

Arthur Curry,Oliver's right hand man, received the signal, and left the floor prompty.

Uniformed officers spread through the crowd like sand, filtering out guests in tuxedos and gowns.
Among the crowd stood Jimmy Olsen along side the two Lane sisters, one of which was on his arm. Lois Lane, the taller and brunette, whispered to Jimmy to which he whispered back, brows fused together.

Oliver nodded to him too, signalling to keep cool.

Det Sawyer parted her way, her arms crossed like a snow plow. She stopped  infront of Oliver.

"Don't look at me. I have no clue where that little blonde ran off to. " Oliver joked with the crowd, smiling as his audience murmured in reaction.

"She arrived as your date, Mr. Queen. I assume you would know where she would be?" Sawyer tapped her foot.

The handsome blonde shrugged, straigthening the bow tie to his tux, "What can I say? Even Star's City most eligible bachelor has women dine and dash on him from time to time."

The expression of the detective's face was priceless, a bubbling rage that Oliver tempted to boil over. Fortunately for him, he had the better mind and turned the other shouder, making his way to the bar to fix him up a stronger drink. He needed one to figure out this mess. He had seen it coming, sure, but it had crashed upon them faster than a bullet train.

Oliver carved his way to the bar, stopping only until he came to a road block.

A woman.

One that he knew very well.
"Tess." Mercer, Oliver added in thought. His eyes lightened.

"Oliver." The red head giggled and then noted, "I guess you're still up to your old ways of pissing people off." She nodded toward the detective stalking inthe background..

A crooked smile, "Well, I usually have a better track record with women. Although I believe my losing streak started with  a girl who looked a lot like you." He watched her smile demurly, following her into a quieter corner of the room.

"Hush, Oliver." she held a gloved finger to her lips and then nodded. "Let's keep our personal lives seperate of other affairs."

"Ah," Oliver sighed, "So I guess you came here to talk business."

Mercer kept a light grin, stealthily sliding a palm sized  card into his hand. "Always. You know me."

"I do." He smiled charmingly and then searched his fingers, "What's this?"


Cadmus Laboratories


The boyish grin fell from his face, locking eyes to hers.

Cadmus Labs. An obscure organization funded byLuthor Corp. Genetic research and biological experiments were their favorite terminology to cover the red tape that labelled their operations as highly  illegal. 

Oliver almost smiled as the realization dawned on him.  They,the many hydras of Lex, would sing song together: Hooray, the King of Luthor Corp was dead! Now all the fringe leaders would surface from the obscure. Healthy competition in a suffocating power vaccum. He figured Tess Mercer would only be the first of many that would seize the opportunity to rule the very deep pocketbook Lex left behind.

"Frankly, I'm surprised, Tess." Oliver handed her back the card, "I thought you would have been caught up in an operation less... how should I say this? Less criminal?"


She laughed, her shining smile a trademark Oliver never forgot. "You'll find our ethics to be very legal." Laughing again as she enjoyed his teasing, "I sense your good side was left at home today."

Oliver laughed with her, his deep eyes never ceasing to scan the room, "Well, when you said to leave the personal stuff at home, I tend to take  it word for word. If you came here for business, let's have it."

"Word for word?" Her eyes glistened in the chandelier's light, "Okay, Oliver. Here's my word for yours. I came here to help."

"I didn't think I needed help." He spoke side to side, observing what was around him. The orchestra had gone on playing, but the morale of the guests had clearly winded down. Police officers clearing the floor and the bar. Even Detective Sawyer was pinning Jimmy Olsen down for a impromptu interrogation.

His cell phone buzzed. It was Curry.

"Oh, not you."

Oliver's attention drew back again, this woman who he used to know as a friend becoming clearer now. The  surroundings were reseting into place. He had time to feel out the situation, to know when his back was up against a corner. It was coming that close. He could feel the control slipping from his hands, his majestic charity turned  investigation for the very cause it had planned to benefit.


Oliver and Sawyer locked eyes.


 They were going to take Chloe away, and for a very long time.




"I want to help her, Oliver." Tess spoke within a sphere of secrecy. They were isolated in a corner, the both of them watching as blue uniforms combed everyone except them. They would come for them too in a matter of moments. "You know the justice system will bury her . Any judge and any jury would be biased from the start."

"Why? Because a long time whistle blower of Luthor Corp is charged with Lex Luthor's murder in a court room he personally furnished with prosecuters?" Oliver shifted his stance, his nose bearing down dangerously to hers, "Or is it because she's meteor infected?"

Tess stepped up to him. "Take your pick."

His eyes shifted from each of hers, unable to decide which side he wanted to bore this into, "You've never came to me unless you wanted a favor."

A break in her lips, a smile, "I want you to convince her to do the right thing."

Oliver stared back.

"Instead of living the rest of her life  rotting behind bars as a martyr, she could come with us."

Something like the taste of bile built up in his throat, Oliver grimacing in reaction. "Chloe would rather die in prison than be the very same Luthor  lab rat she risked her life trying to free." He took one last look at Tess then dismissed her, brushing shoulders to round up what was left of his charity.

"Oliver, one last thing."

His heel hit the floor.


Tess held him there waiting,dramatically tipping her champagne in irony, "Ms. Sullivan isn't the only person missing from this room."

Oliver cursed himself as he turned.

Tess eyed him, "Just how much do you know about Clark Kent?"




*



He told her.

Everything.

But only after Chloe had told Clark the real story, that despite her many interviews with Det. Sawyer, remembered very vividly, kept to herself all this time.

She told Clark about Alicia Baker and the last of what she saw of Lex Luthor. She told him about  what happened in the Kawatche Caves and how she understood none of it, how Alicia saved them both by teleporting.

She told Clark how Alicia had died in her arms.

Alicia's last words.

And then, her redemption.

Both of them finding a second chance. Alicia given her life that Lex had stolen.

And Chloe, how she fell across Alicia's pale body, her last thoughts believing her sins were cleansed, for good.

And while she recounted everything she remembered, Clark clung to the cloth of her dress. Realizing that it had happened a long, long time ago.

That Clark had lost her before.

She continued, describing the stranger, the voice. Blue eyes. She remembered those like her own. And as she remembered, she looked into Clark's seeing them transpose over and over...

She relived the  dreams that lasted an eternity.

And how she awoke. The very same girl who had fallen to sleep for an eternity.

There was a red haired dog beside her, and a pair of glasses.

His.

A piece of Clark left behind.

There was blood, she said. Smeared across the lenses.

Clark looked down at them then, his recollection of that day in the caves reappearing in fresh eyes. He pictured Lex's body lying on the floor. A dark cloaked figure walking across it like trash.

That was the last image Clark had.

He looked up when Chloe told him how she had been found by her friend Oliver Queen, and then told of the days she had lost.

Told how Clark was reported missing.

She had stood by his abandoned red truck at the cave mouth, beside Lex's car and other weeds. She told Clark of how the media gossiped about the evidence, the critical condition of the world's worst bald, bad guy.

She suffered a smile, telling Clark how relived she was for hearing that Lex wouldn't hurt anyother person ever again, and then how fearful when they started pointing the figure at--

Clark.

"I had Oliver take me to the police headquaters to tell them was really happened." Chloe explained, licking her lips.

She told authorities she had driven Clark's truck to the caves, found Lex in a plot to murder  Alicia Baker, and then blacked out when she heard the first shots.

The story ended there.

Lastly, she told Clark it was for the best.

Clark stared hard at her, unconvinced and confused. "I didn't kill Lex. You don't have to cover for me--"

"I do, Clark!" She cried again, repeating it over an over.

"No," he took her by the shoulders, "You don't! I didn't do it Chloe."

it was then that she told Clark about the blood samples found on Clark's glasses, tying him to the scene.

Lex's blood, and his own.

An unknown specimen.

Him.

"Shit!" Clark barked in frustration.

"He wanted to kill all of us, Clark. Every meteor freak and finally someone brought justice to the man who cried, Slaughter." She wiped her eyes, "Clark, you can do so much more for this world than I can. Every car crash, every bullet train. Think of all the people who youu've saved!"

Clark looked to her, and then shook his head.

"You've saved me, Clark. I know it's been you." she smiled. "All this time."

All this time.
 Clark gazed at her sitting above him, like a high priestess in emerald gowns, golden hair and starlight eyes.


All this time, it was a lie.

It was all a lie.

Silently, Clark prayed to her poised from, such beauty and loyalty trapped inside a small being. He stood up, and took a step back.

And then again.

Watching for the subtle change of her eyes, that look of fear replaced by disbelief and then the reprise of panic until her irises were dark embers.

When he had finished, the damage was as clear as the bloodied lenses she had wiped clean for him.

Fear.


He had told her.

The precious lines that held his composure cut away, his chest caving in from unexpected remorse.


Clark Kent was not human.


He walked between the two desks, setting the pair of glasses ontop of dust. They were foreign, and obtuse. How could he disguise his existence to this world?

He was a stranger, unwelcome.

Minutes passed, Clark looking out the window as rain covered the soaked school grounds. He thought he heard her heart beat hide from him, but it was still there, buried under silence.

Minutes left until Clark heard her move from the couch, his back stiffening as she did. He resisted the temptation to speak, to defend himself. He expected questions, willing for once to offer answers.

But  he spun around, finding there were none.

The room was emptier than before.






****************

continued to part 2

****************

                                                 
 *

Just how much do you know about Clark Kent?

 
Oliver stood there for a long while, a red snake of a woman before his dark eyes. Tess Mercer had a hold on him now, releasing the doubt that was  venom, slowly creeping deeper into his subconscious. Venom and doubt that slowly replaced guilt. Oliver knew the complications of trusting someone as enigmatic as Clark Kent. Every year grew more complicated and fragile between them, the mutual trust more transparent than ever.

Oliver felt his stomach drop and a strange crescendo of rattling rise.

Champagne glasses chattered.

Oliver turned towards the long ball room windows.

Helicopters.

 Tess crossed his path. "Calvary's here."


And then he felt them,  the ballroom vibrating from their propellers, guests and chandeliers swaying in confusion. His eyes snapped back to the woman with red hair, and unreadable eyes. Mercer was once a friend, but could Oliver trust her anymore? Influenced by the pocket book of Lex Luthor, Tess looked far more capable than he had left her. She wore the most extravagant gown in the room, and the rarest jewels, but even with all the charms and toys, Oliver could still see the old friend he knew, the woman he had loved once.

"Clark Kent is dangerous." Mercer said to him, brushing close against his black and white tux, "I know you're trying to protect Chloe, but leaving her in the hands of that man is the worst decision you'll ever make."

She left his side, making her way across the floor towards the elevator doors.

Oliver shifted, feeling his world slipping from under him. It was true. Oliver had never uncovered the secrets he knew that Clark Kent had been hiding. There had always been excuses blanketed with the comforting reassurance that Kent had been on their side.  The man who wore the strangest costumes, owned the mysterious entrances and exits, the failing alibis and lies... Essentially, Kent was the equivalent of a mutual stranger. Oliver had only trusted him because  of Chloe Sullivan.

But Chloe was gone.

Taken.

A link  broken between them, and Oliver was just standing there as the  chance to get it back slipped between dark suits and gowns and eventually through a pair of brass doors that reflected his broken image.

They closed.

Almost.

 "What do you know about Clark?" Oliver shoved them back open and pulled himself inside.

Tess patiently called  for the roof. "Everything that you don't."

The doors closed, Oliver and Tess disappearing from the million dollar gala. He loosened his tie, leaning against the brass, mirrored walls. Oliver's brown eyes looked unusually dull through the yellowed reflection. Oliver Queen had shown up at his own party with a blonde, but it was Green Arrow who found himself leaving with a red. 

Different occasions, Oliver thought, looking over at his found old friend. "What do you know, Tess? And be straight with me. If you're saying Clark is dangerous--"

"You already know how dangerous Clark Kent is." Tess countered.

He deflated.  "I hardly know him at all."

Her sharp green eyes let go for a moment, a sign of sympathy for him. "Listen. I'm here as a friend Oliver. And what you don't know about Clark, every thing that you've always wanted to know about Clark. I do know."

He looked to her. "Did Clark Kent kill Lex Luthor?" He had to know. He had always suspected she had done this stupid thing to only protect Clark. But why?

The elevator stopped, the doors opened.

 Tess rushed through the doors with Oliver following.

"There's a long history between Kent and the Luthors. They were friends once, did you know?"

Oliver paused, his brows pushing down his eyes. "Clark would never associate with the likes of Lex Luthor."

"Because he told you so? How many times has he lied to you?" Tess stared, "How many times have you let him use you? Let him use Chloe?"

Oliver stopped again. 

She shook her head,  "Clark Kent is a man who lost track of what he was fighting for. After all these years, he turned against a long time ally.  A man who was mutually committed to the same justice Clark was."

Oliver stared, still catching up from three sentences ago.

Tess reiterated. "Clark Kent  has a vendetta against the meteor infected, he has for years. Check the record books. He's worked with Lex, using his unassuming alter ego as a mild mannered citizen to reign in every meteor freak that came his way, starting at age fourteen. Everyone of those infected was sent to one institute or another, most notably Belle Reeve. There they were all left to the privacy of one Luthor project or another.  Is it any wonder why Clark would kidnap Chloe now? In her most vulnerable state? When she's charged with Lex's murder and outed as a freak?"

Oliver nodded his head, his voice soaked in contempt, "'One Luthor project or another', right? If I read that little card in your palm right, that makes Cadmus a Luthor project. What makes you think she would come to you? "

"Because we've found the cure."

Oliver paused, staring up at her from three stairs down.

"Listen. I can't begin to tell you how important Chloe is to Cadmus. If we lose her we lose everything." Tess touched his arm for strength,  "If Chloe is alone with him she isn't safe. Your suspicions are correct.  Clark killed Lex. But his motives aren't what you think. He got what he wanted from Lex and once Clark gets what he wants from her..."

Tess climbed up the remaining stairs and pushed open the doors, the blackest, grittiest Metropolis night dawning on them.

A few feet above the gravel rooftop, a helicopter hovered like an angry wasp.Wind whipped at Mercer's dress, her hair and her eyes squinting through the droplets of rain that fell. Lightning sparked behind her, thunder following closely behind.

It was the moment before she leaped onto the chopper that she turned, her last words planting a bitter seed in Oliver.

"He will kill her!"

Oliver let those words soak in just as the rain did. He released what remained of his tie and threw it into the wind. "Clark would never hurt her!" The words  whipped back at him, Tess never hearing them as the helicopter took flight.

Uncertain.. Filled with something  that poked and prodded at his gut until it reared its ugly head. Had he made a mistake? Had he confused Clark's protectiveness over Chloe for his own? Just how many times had Oliver saved Clark's hide and the potential of it endangering Chloe's too? What if it had all been a charade? A farce? A game that Clark had made Oliver play?

And who had Chloe now?

Lightning struck again, this time so violent and near it stopped his heart.

And then restarted.

His feet picked up pace, splashing through pooling rain puddles, kicking up the gravel  of the roof. He tore open his dress shirt, his breath coming raggedly, discarding his jacket and clothes until a green leather jumpsuit underneath flashed within the strikes of lightning that exploded in the skyline.

His legs sprinted as he approached the edge, Metropolis city lights underneath  and around.

And as his feet departed from the ground, his body lunging through the open air, Oliver took one last breath.

Eyes trained on the black bird in the air,his heartbeat counting the seconds he sailed.

And at the very last moment his arm extended from his leather vest.  The single lifeline, a crossbow.

A line shot forward like a pit viper, arching up and away as Oliver watched it sail and coil towards a target that seemed farther than impossible.

But then--


*


Inside the cabin, the helicopter rocked and then shook.

"What was that?" Tess frowned, speaking through the communicator in her helmet.

"Just turbulence from this weather." The pilot replied, pulling the aircraft upward over tall buildings.

Rain assaulted the windshield as Tess opened a laptop with GPS software."She's close. Keep the team on standby until we make contact."

"Yes, Ms. Mercer."

"I don't want any hiccups. We need to make it quick and painless. I do not want a repeat of Greg Arkin's extraction."

"Yes, Ms. Mercer."

"We're the good guys." Tess studied the screen affectionately, "Instead of running away, Sullivan will run straight into my arms."



*


Her bare footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Lockers and classrooms.

Objects and doorways dim but preserved in memory, she reached out to them with tentative fingertips, feeling her way through black except for  the slightest shades of the darkest blues.

Chloe was lost.

Tunneling deeper through passageways she had abandoned a long time ago. She turned another corner, her direction meaningless and wandering. 

Her body felt an opening.

The library, she remembered. The black mouth of something that was empty, open. Ready to swallow her in if she would just fall closer. She backed away, not knowing what she was running from, if from anything at all. Here, she ran deeper into her past, between the cold walls that she had spent a short, but consequential part of her life. And now she was lost within the twists, and the turns, of every junction she had ever been led down.

Her back hit the cold metal of a set of lockers.. Sliding down, the fabric of her dress floated onto her lap like a parachute that wanted to save her fall.

Outside, she heard the rain.

How had she gotten there? Where everything connected together and fell apart-- where years ago Chloe Sullivan and Clark--


"Kent." Chloe whispered, her eyes absorbing the faintest touches of the word. Across from her was a trophy case.  The trophy case, she remembered. A place where all of the school's accolades were stored like a transparent treasure chest.

Inside were miniature golden statues, medals, placards and photographs. But more importantly, there was a letterman jacket displayed in the center of it all, with the simple kerning of four felt symbols that spelled a quiet legend.


K E N T


"It was my father's."

Chloe stirred from the voice.

It was Clark, his eyes downcast to the floor until he stood beside the display. The jacket was pale and faded, but the letters kept their regal pose. Clark looked upon them proudly.  "They put this up after he died. He could have gone All-State his last year of school." He spoke softly, as if remembering from some speech at the ceremony. "No one had swifter hands than Jonathan Kent, completing more touchdowns than any player since..."

Clark Kent was not human.

Chloe watched from far away,  the words and idea resonating in her mind.

 "Tractor pull crushed his hand." Clark continued, his own hand out from his pocket.  He made a strong fist, and then unraveled.  "My father said it was the best thing that could have ever happened to him."

Chloe frowned., watching as Clark did this several times, each time his knuckles going white. She studied how the rest of his body followed in his tense state, a battle of being human and being...

"The next semester, he enrolled at Metropolis University where he met a girl." Clark went on,"  Two weeks later, he married her."

Chloe smiled, and Clark, as much as she could see through the glass's dim reflection, smiled with her.

Rain fell outside, filling the hallways with a gentle drumming. 

"They couldn't have children," Clark spoke quietly, his voice carrying the smallest of echo in the empty halls, "but they had each other, and it was enough for more than two lifetimes." Clark shrugged, "Then they found a boy. A son, delivered from the sky."

"Someone answered their prayers." Chloe injected softly, partially without even knowing why. She felt the rigidness from her shoulder relax with the words, feeling closer to Clark now that her silence had broken.

"Yes." Clark nodded very sadly, glancing to her. "They loved him like their own. My mom walked me to the bus every morning until I was ten and my dad finally had someone to play football with.  I guess he wanted me to play like him one day, maybe wondering if I'd make it as far. I guess that was before my abilities really developed. After that, we didn't worry about anything crushing my hands. I could lift the same tractor over my head before I was thirteen."

Chloe studied his face, his figure. There was power there, in the long strides and sturdy gait.Clark wasn't human, she could see that now. Perhaps the dark hair and rugged good looks were always a sign that he hadn't been born here, but it didn't change the fact that he had been raised in Smallville. It didn't change the fact that Clark was the product of Jonathan and Martha Kent.

Alien or not. Clark Kent was golden son, raised by good parents with good morals.   He was a man who stood for good, and had always done so, and always would.   A hero. One that had saved her countless of times, and some she probably hadn't even known about.

Here, Chloe saw a  man no different than any other, reciting the simple words of any who had grown up on a midwest farm. And as he spoke, Chloe found that she had never forgotten this, who Clark was. It had just been buried somewhere deep down, along with all the other things she thought she had lost after she had left this place.

Chloe looked between herself, Clark, and the lengths of the hallway that they had once walked down side by side. Those days seemed like another life entirely.

Perhaps Clark had been a stranger to her from the very beginning, she never truly knowing who he was. But now, she realized, they could start again. This time, each one knowing. From the beginning.

"Why don't I see any trophies of yours in here?" Chloe asked. It was a simple observation. If Clark Kent was a super powered being, why wasn't he the Olympic god? She felt the pages of questions filling in her head, gently editing those she asked. "I know you move faster than a speeding bullet, and I've read the reports of the Blur lifting tons as if they were pennies. You must be a natural athlete."

Pale blues shifted on his face, "I never played."

Chloe nodded, although she was only beginning to understand.

"My father always told me that crushing his hand in that tractor was the best thing that ever happened to him. He could've been a legend, but he never found his fame and glory, he found something better. He found Martha Clark. They both found eachother. And then they found me."

Clark took a deep breath, searching the red and gold jacket for answers, ""Dad said it was fate. That he was meant to do more things than just play football. He was meant to raise a son." He turned to her. "And he did. A son with hands of steel and record breaking speed. " Clark smiled, then to the jacket, "He was the greatest father I could have ever asked for."

There had always been a pull that brought Chloe to Clark. She had named this invisible force many times during their brief friendship, and discounted every one as she went along. The years of absence had failed to bury it beyond the fragile dust that Clark's vulnerable gaze had stirred And there was no hiding that she felt it now. Was it a liking, or a longing? An admiration for all that was good in him, or the allure of something mysterious in the complexities of his eyes.

They were looking at her now as she watched him walk towards her.

He lifted his hand to her as her shoulders shivered and shook.

Unbreakable hands? She lifted her fragile one, hesitating with the notion of his fingers touching hers...

Clark saw this. "You're afraid of me."

Her eyes snapped back to his, and then couldn't let go.

The pull.

Clark's body awakened, both of her hands suddenly holding on to his. He gently lifted her to her bare feet, her fingers roaming further up his outstretched arm until they were both standing in the dark hallway, a sliver of light cast from one of the farther windows.

"I was never afraid of you Clark." Golden strands fell in front of her eyes. But instead of putting them away, her fingers gravitated towards his chest. There the pull was strongest. She had to be there. Wandering across the worn fabric of his jacket, across the thick seams that led to the softer material of his shirt.  She felt him breathing raggedly against her, and this was the first sign that made her think that it was he who was afraid of her. "The only thing I was ever afraid of Clark, was that I'd never figure you out."

She looked up and dared a smile.

His blue eyes looked so clear at that moment, all of the fear and past rejection laid out before her to see. His dark brows pushed down at lashes, desperately trying to hold on to the steel demeanor that had possessed him for so long.  But as her hands reached the warm curve of his neck, this armor fell away. Fear spiked within him like a tumble of needles in his chest, sending messages for his legs to move, to anywhere but this close.

Signals crossed.

Her skin.

He didn't dare move. 

I think you're more afraid of me, Clark. This, she whispered in thought, her body falling into that ever-known pull that existed since the very beginning

I'm not afraid.  He whispered back, his eyes flashing in surprise with hers.  He could almost taste her. Warm, and soft, her hands around his shoulders, bringing them so close.

Her chest fell against his.


Beat



"You do the most amazing things," this she said in a fog, torn between his eyes and his lips, "saving lives and taking zero credit for it all. You've never let anyone say 'thank you' or even see your face." Her eyes poured into his, not letting him breathe. "But I've seen your face. And, I want to say thank you."

Chloe..  Clark panicked, both alarmed and aroused.  He couldn't fool himself, he was afraid. He was very afraid. Afraid losing himself, afraid of losing her.

He glanced at her lips, and closed his eyes. Clark was afraid he would enjoy this too much.

"I know you've saved me more than once. It's always been you." she smiled,  "And I've never been scared, Clark Kent." Chloe wet her lips as she concentrated on his quiet mouth. A thought rose to her mind, animating a single uplifted brow. "I could care less if you're an alien. I'm not your average human either you know?"

Clark mouth twitched, a smile parting through.

"And after everything that's happened and all the danger that surrounds us now. The most shocking part is..." Chloe's eyes clouded into the darkest forest green, "you're still too afraid to kiss me."


His eyes opened.







*


 Outside the school, the storm worsened.  Streets around the campus were inundated with water, making it nearly impossible to travel by car. But from the sky, Tess Mercer arrived. Several black helicopter landing in unison just outside the old gymnasium.

Dozens of black tactical boots splashed against the wet ground, marching towards the entrance doors. Behind them was Tess, wearing a black jumpsuit of her own, in one hand a semi automatic pistol and the other, a radio. "Heavy perimeter around the building with every exit covered.  I want Sullivan flushed out of this place. Alive."

"Clear. And what about Kent?"

"You have the green light on Kent." Tess ordered.

The commander gave the affirmative over the radio, and directed the mass of black uniforms to case the building.Tess filed in behind them, reveling in her favorite part of the job.

The extraction.


*

But he did kiss her.

His fingers were alive against her skin, a feeling so alien and good that he could hardly breathe. All these years under the yellow sun, Clark had experienced many things, but nothing had ever felt this real. Tasted this real. Nothing so soft, so warm... He felt his chest hollow beneath her touch, allowing Chloe to burrow deep inside to where he surrendered himself, where she claimed him.



Warm breath escaped from Clark's lips when she kissed his ear, Clark's chest expanding and then slowly collapsing into hers.

"I'm not afraid." Clark spoke to her in calm hush.

Was it a liking or a longing she felt every time he murmured her name against her skin? Warmth blooming inside from her heart and out to his. Soon, she felt no space between herself and Clark. His chest beating against hers in a frantic way, drumming out the seconds she knew would be too few.There wasn't a thread between them anymore. No lies, no mysteries. No secrets.

Except one.


"Clark," Chloe parting with short breath, "I have to show you somethi--"


His finger went to her lips, and stayed there.


His ear tilting to the side, his eyes following.


*


Red laser sights traced the halls, an army of black boots chasing after them.

"West end is clear."  A static covered voice came through the radio.

Tess covered her mic, "Clear. Flush the entire building until there's no choice but for her to come straight to us."

Sullivan was no different than the other meteor freaks she had captured in her career.  The public might give credit to bigger names like Lex Luthor for fighting the war against metahumans, but wiser historians would know the true leader in the game. Tess Mercer had sweat, bled, and almost died for the good of the people. And while yes, Lex Luthor may have actually died for the cause, it was her turn to take the lead.

Some called them meta human, others meteor freaks, and some just freaks-- but regardless of the handle, they were all sick criminals with a violent past. Lex had it half right when he had them captured. Now all that was needed was a cure.  And Chloe Sullivan was the start of it all.

Up ahead, a black glove signaled to stop.

The tactical boots came to a halt, laser sights festering and jumping in a single spot like fleas.

Tess raised her gun, breaking through the flanks. "Is it her?"

Tess broke through her men, staring down at the red, lit up chest of the man in blue.She recognized him right away. How could she not? Who else stood as tall and broad and with the most  clueless of faces. He had a nice face.

"She's not here." He looked down at his chest, covered with red, glowing fleas.

"I know she's with you, Kent." Tess swung around the shadows, searching the adjacent hallways. "I know she's here."

Clark stood impervious to the laser sights collecting on his forehead. "She didn't kill Lex Luthor."

"I know that." Tess said, "And that's not why we're here."

"You're not the police?" Clark frowned.

"No. I'm here to save her before the police find her."

Clark scanned the dark hallway, at the army of black uniforms surrounding him. "All these weapons and you're here to help Chloe? If you're not the police then who are you?"


"Unfortunately, I don't have times for twenty questions." Tess raised her pistol, aiming for one of the marks on his chest. "Red light." She aimed.  "Green light."


*


The first round of gun shots sent a terrible chill through her. Chloe stumbled from her pace, her barefoot sprint down the darkness becoming a never ending vacuum of percussion rounds.She stopped to hear Clark's voice, or anything for that matter.

But it was quiet now. And that shook her even more.

He's faster than a speeding bullet. She reminded herself, and started running again.

She made it to the gym doors, pushing through them and running past.

She tripped over the first few feet, her hands flying forward to the ground as she fell. Her fingers felt around, stopping once they reached a deposit of warm fluid pooling at her knees. She couldn't see it, but she could smell it.

Blood.

She kept herself from screaming in horror, the bodies of several dark clothed soldiers laying around her. Their fallen arms laid against their fallen bodies. Lifeless and so many. Had they been sent to capture her? To kill her? And who had killed them?

From the shadows a glowing pair of eyes emerged, and advanced.

And then, another pair.

A hideous green...

This time, she did scream.


*

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!


DING! DING! DING!

The shots kept coming, and they kept ricocheting off his chest.

BLAM! DING! BLAM BLAM! DING! DING! DING!

Holes pierced his shirt like a colander, Clark not even moving to deflect the flattened bullets that bounced off his chin.


"Stop! Cease fire!" Tess waved the muzzles down. It had zero effect. He was still standing.

Tess lowered her weapon, staring at him quizzically as the smoke sizzled away what remained of his clothes.
"What are you?"

Clark lifted his eyes, the heat from his chest emanating from them now. They all looked at him with disbelief and disgust. They were afraid. And they were raising their weapons again, ready to kill him again. But they couldn't.

An anger boiled inside of him, his voice trembling from it. He growled. "And what are you?"

Tess took a step backward, throwing her gun down in surrender.  "I just want Chloe."

"You can't have her." Clark growled.

Men cried out behind her, blood spraying against the cold walls, and splashing against the floor.

Bodies fell before any gun could be raised, a single man in a bleak, and very black robe stepping over them all.

"Brainiac!" Clark yelled, "No!"

A long metallic spike originated from his hand. Machine in place of man.  Cold intelligence in place of the tiniest merciful compassion. 

Brainiac raised his arm.

Tess's eyes widened and shook.


"No!" Clark reached out. 


Slit.


Another body fell to the floor.

Clark rushed over, turning the woman's shoulders upright. "You shouldn't have done this."

Brainiac wiped his metallic arm clean, and then regenerated back into the bloodstained fist that laid across Clark's back. "If you truly wanted to save these people, you would have stopped me, Kal-El."

Clark frowned. "How could I? You killed these people before I --"

Brainiac sniffed, "Oh please. I simply did what you could never let yourself do. Eliminate the enemy before they could eliminate you. These humans were sent here to kill you, and if they were able to, they would have. When will you learn that this human race is not your people, Kal-el? They never were."

Clark looked down at the woman's closing eyes.

Brainiac bent down, touching Clark's jaw with a blood stained fore finger. "In time Kal-el, I will help rid these disillusions--"

"Don't touch me!" Clark pushed away. "I don't need your help! You've done enough already!"

"Why are you so angry? I have only done what was programmed of me." Brainiac narrowed.

"This woman is still alive."

"Help, her?" Brainiac read Clark's eyes. "Why? I see no value in this." Brainiac studied the body. "She will not make it. It is illogical to try."

Clark bolted, "She was sent here to find Chloe, and I need to know who she is--"

"Another human." Brainiac yawned. "The only logical solution to this problem is to equalize the equation."

Clark turned, dreading the tinge of foreshadowing in Brainac's steel voice.

 "Sometimes," Brainiac's eyes bathed in blackness, "these problems isolate themselves."




*




part 3




*





Streaks of rain.

All washed against the windows that lined  Clark's back, their shadows casting strange, crawling tendrils across the pale blues of lockers that painted the halls of old highschool.

It was there across from Clark that Brainiac stood.

Black, dead, lifeless eyes.

Kryptonian, Brainiac was born by Clark's biological father. But its form wasn't alive at all, it was a computer, a machine. And at Brainiac's feet were bodies of its product.

Dark pools of blood.

Flowing still.

Brainiac remained still. "It is nearly complete."

But Clark never heard the first syllable, his legs burning streaks across slowed time, superspeeding away towards her screams.

When he found them, they were quiet.

"Chloe!"

Laying across the floor, her once emerald colored dress now dark, and sheen with a dark stain.

He went to her, hands cradling her neck.

Clark clenched shut his eyes, an anger so overpowering he could not breathe.

"It is done." Said one of the soldiers, his hand held out proudly, inside of it, the last crystal of knowledge.

Blue, and pristine.

"I found it among this human. The last key to our home."

Clark's eyes opened.

Crimson.

The soldier's feet left the ground, Clark's fist around his neck.

A terrible sound from Clark's throat as his teeth ground together fiercly, just before a deafening cry shook the walls.

"Arrrrggghhhhhhhhh!"

Clark squeezed harder, never flinching while the soldier's thick hands covered his own throat, squeezing in helpless retaliation.

At his side, the female soldier watched with expectant, admirous eyes. "The prophecies are true. Kal-El's strength equals that of all mighty Zod."

"Careful, Aethyr." Brainiac crept behind the female soldier, his eyes unswayed from its blackness, "He is strong, but unbalanced."

The struggle between Clark's anger and mercy split shadows on his face. His conscious reminding him that his Kryptonian brothers had not shone mercy to humans, the ones he vowed to protect.

The still, bloodied air reminding him that they had not spared even her.

Heat spilled from his eyes, Clark's heart pounding erratically to fill the gaps of where Chloe's heartbeat were absent.

It was between those gaps where Clark contested the temptation to end the soldier's struggles.

beat

Anger carried through to even the cadence of his chest, a beating drum that would not cease until Clark's pain was satisfied.

Beat

Beat

Beat

Beat

Beat

Blood coarsed through his fists, delivering the strength to cease all Clark's deliberations with a silent motion.

But then he heard it.

And then again. A slow, steady sound that disrupted his preconceived punishment for what they had done.

Clark turned around, eyes breathing embers.

Beat

She was still alive.

His fists gave way, the soldier thrownaway, his body colliding through the cinder block wall and into the rain outside.

A damp, dim light poured through newly created window to the outside, light drifting over Chloe's body.

"Don't you touch her." Clark snarled at the remaining kryptonians.

Brainiac's eyes met his cooly, and spoke this to the female soldier, "Strong, but unbalanced. You see, Kal-El's weight is shifted in two different directions."

She nodded. "He will fall before he learns to rise."

Brainiac nodded in return. "But first, he will learn to kneel."

They observed from a distance, watching as Clark lifted Chloe into his arms.

"Put her down!"

They all looked up, a voice from the shadows yelled, while a sharp, pointed tip of an arrow sliced through wet darkness.

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Oliver, get out of here!"

"I said, put her down!" His sights aimed at the veins protruding from Clark's neck.

"You don't understand-"

"I understand enough!" The whites of Oliver's teeth bit back, a feral growl in his voice. "I've seen what you've done."

From the side, Brainiac smoothly laughed.

Oliver swung around, arrow aimed, and poorly outnumbered.

He shot.

Three times.

All three arrows caught in mid air, the cold pair of black eyes gleaming back at the lone Green Archer.

He reached for his quiver again, but his hand was stopped, and twisted back.

The female soldier bent, and whispered in his ear, "You are weak."

She wrenched his arm back, and snapped his wrist. "And break easily."

Oliver screamed, dropping to his knees.

"Stop!" Clark yelled, Chloe still in his arms. "Leave this place!" Anger shook his lip, watching as one of his friends suffered at their feet.

Brainiac turned, "Our task is not yet complete."

Clark held Chloe closer to his chest, his heart beating against hers.

From the rain, the second kryptonian soldier shook the rain droplets from his smooth shaven head, blood trickling down the gashes inflicted only moments before.

They circled Clark, closing in.

"Leave us." Clark warned, ignoring the unsettling fear that raised the hairs on his neck.

Brainiac smiled, "I see now that you are not ready, Kal-El. You are not prepared to accept your new home. New Krypton."

Beat

Clark looked down to where her pale face laid against him. "This is my home."

Brainiac's gaze narrowed. "We will see."

Clark took a knee, gently lowering Chloe's body to the ground, removing the remains of his tattered shirt and placing it underneath her head.

"I see now that you are lost, Kal-El. Led astray for far too long. I wonder how long it will take until you are broken from your disillusions. Until you find your way back to the Kryptonian way." Brainiac circled. "Until you realize that Krypton, and only Krypton, has been your home."

Lightning, and then thunder.

Brainiac reached out with his hand, and caught the rain, weighing it for a moment before flicking it in Clark's face. "Maybe a few centuries away from 'your home' will bring you clarity."

Clark lunged at him, only to be held back by either soldier at his side.

But it wasn't enough, Clark grasping at the thread's of Brainiac's long black coat, pulling him close enough to see himself inthe dark pools of his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Brainiac grabbed Clark's face in his palm and turned it, almost affectionately. "There is so much for you to learn, Kal-El. You have no choice."

A metallic, hollow disc appeared from Brainiac's other palm, revolving in silent, graceful turns.

Both soldiers looked at one another, approval exchanging between them.

Clark's head turned, watching the disc float past, and far away, gaining speed as it spiralled towards an unseen destination in the stormy night sky.

Immediately, Clark felt a force pulling him back.

He staggered.

Brainiac patted his face, "Goodbye."

Both soldier's released him, Clark's body sucked backwards into the rain.

Confusion, dischord.

Clark's mind battled through the uncertainty of what Brainiac had done, the infliction upon his body, and the destination that Brainiac had plotted for it. He felt his body caught on a hook, reeling backward, and unwillingly. His mind fighting for the last strength left, fighting to grab a hold of the last shreds of footing.

His legs thrusted forward, leaning against the invisible current that wrangled his body. He reached for the male, yanking him close.

"Leave it, Aethyr." Brainiac warned as the female moved towards them.

She hesitated, unsure when she asked, "But where is the crystal?"

Brainiac twitched, unsure himself.

Both Clark and the male soldier slid backward, Clark ahold of him, and the force ahold of Clark.

His feet left the ground, anchored to the soldier's shoulders.

And between Clark's hand, a blue glint of light reflecting the cinders of lightning.

Brainiac bolted. "Stop him!"

The female grabbed Clark's arm.

"Stop him now!"

Clark's body lifted higher, the male dropping from his grip and falling to the ground.

Brainiac leap into the air, colliding with Clark, prying his fingers back the cool blue surface, but failing.

The male launched himself, fist pulled back, pummelling Clark in the face over and over, while the female choked him from behind.

Clark's grip only tightened, the edges cutting into his palm. His face so suddenly bruised, and the skin cut above his eyes. As they ascended from the atmosphere of Earth, he took his last breath as if it would be his last, and turned to Brainiac and whispered, "You're coming with me."



*


chapter 16