Tuesday, July 23, 2013

go by

chapter 22




*



North of the sparkling downtown area was a darker corner of nighttime Metropolis.

 Some called it Hob's Bay, but those who lived within the ten city blocks called it Suicide Slums. But it wasn't the same "slums" that it was in the past. If you spoke outside of the recent monster attacks, Metropolis crime was on the down slope in the last decade. The trickle of prosperity even went as far as the north side; the side of town where our mysterious hero traveled through now.

Clark was no stranger to these parts. In the months after his more recent arrival to Earth, he'd been drawn to the neon lights; a pulsing bass beneath his feet. He'd patronized the clubs, the bars, and sat among the smokey atmospheres of the lounges that flourished in alleyways like an intoxication of neon, poppy flowers.

Here, his mortal senses were tested to their limits.

The overwhelming noise of music, laughter, anger, excitement... of people. The underground did no more to hide themselves, their nature, other than living in a shadow of The City of Tomorrow. There was only right now. Only now. Here, in Suicide Slums, the people were open to suggestion, to the darkness. His boots stepped over discarded pages of the most recent Daily Planet, the headlines reading:

UNSTOPPABLE FORCE.

The Monster, as they called it, continued to terrorize the tri-county area.

Powerless, Clark came here to disappear, if only for the night. He came here to be among the people he'd once neglected to understand. To become part of the soul and surroundings of the misfits. In his younger years, he patrolled these parts, an outsider to the world. The beats of the club music could be tuned on and off with a flick of his super hearing, but tonight, they blared. Forced to linger, to partake in the thick wafts of nightlife.  The smell of the alcohol, and smoke. There was no escaping the loss of control of his senses.

In front of him, a red neon glow called to him,

ACE O' CLUBS.

It might have been  tempting to wander inside, but considering where he had just wandered from, his mind was far from the scenery tonight.

Clark visited Tess Mercer earlier that evening. He had watched the sun pierce through her office's heavily tinted windows, several tens of stories up in the air.  Mercer was more than an aquaintance now, Clark having met her several times, and always of a sensitive subject of trust. He wouldn't call her a "friend" or even an informant. But the woman had came through in ways for Clark others hadn't in many years. It was precarious relationship, Clark's judgment of Tess growing in a sideways manner. Tess was upfront about her intentions, and she was open with her conclusions. Mostly about Lex Luthor, a man who had never been open about anything.

Tess knew about Chloe, that she was alive, and well. And Tess wanted her. Desperately.

She explained to  Clark, with much conviction,  that Chloe was a tremendous asset to the greater human kind. There was an unlocked potential, a curious power that Chloe possessed, one that Clark believed  Tess coveted. Hungrily pacing across her office, fingertips brushing absently across the scar on her neck.

Cadmus Labs needed a partnership with Chloe. Tess arguing that there  was a cure for all mankind so close to the horizon, that all of the tomorrows might be endless. The day was near when  a meteor infection might begin to be not a curse, not a godsend.

In a certain light, the proposal seemed almost,optimistic. In all his years, the suggestion that the public would embrace meteor infection never occurred to him. All the years of hiding and disdain, could they be lifted away like a stage curtain?

What she offered him was a chance to be something more than himself. Now that he was human, he had nothing else but that. It left him a little less than alone.

But Clark didn't trust Tess. Maybe it was him being paranoid about her previous employer, or the odd suspension of truth surrounding his past abilities. Or his non-human origins. Mostly, it was the angle Tess fished for Clark's confidence. Her preoccupation with Chloe echoed the same Lex Luthor once had for him in his teenage years. There was an  obsessive nature about her that rang too close to home...

Although it had been ten years since he'd had any  real loyalty to her, there was big  part of him that still wanted to  protect Chloe, no matter how untrusting she'd become. It was a subject he tried hard to not obsess on. But it was there, ever since he'd found out he'd been tricked, betrayed, captured and studied like a freak.

That's what he was truly doing in Suicide Slums, this night.

This was where he first encountered, her, or rather, one of her evasive personas. One or only one, Clark wasn't sure how many Chloe used, or had. He only knew he was her fish inside of a glass bowl. Clark couldn't settle with the idea that she'd wanted to toy with him, he had to believe that wished to observe him. Or rather, he wanted to believe. The aching in his chest, and his embarrassment said otherwise.

Embarrassed. Or even mortified. Clark strained to sift through all the encounters he'd had with the elusive Zatanna Zatara. The conversations, the confessions. Clark was broken by the time Zatanna found him inside Ace O'Clubs one night. Reliving the night moment to moment, Clark pictured it more of a seduction attempt, which had strangely worked its charms.

His pain, was the shame of a fool.

Clark leaned against a brick building just then, the sickness churning in his gut. How many times had he mentioned her name in front of her? And how could she continue to pretend? Continued to let him believe she was dead?

Help.

It was a small voice from behind him, a woman backing away from the shadows of two males in the shadows. It had been so long since Clark patrolled around here, he barely snapped to that she might have been in distress. Everything in the slums were languid within the street's haze. The woman's figure moved in sync with the strobing of a flickering neon sign above the alley Clark found her in. She had a hasty dash away from the two men, but one of them caught her by the waist, the other grabbing her hands.

The languid air clouded his eyes, but soon he preoccupations evaporated at the sound of her muffled screams, barely audible at all.

The pulse of nearby club shook his body as he moved towards them. His own pulse elevated, his fists forming primitively. It's all he had now, just good intentions and common strength. He was human after all. But even if he didn't believe it, or know it, Clark was still beyond average. He advanced towards them, shouting first. He couldn't even hear himself over the drumming of the , of his chest.

The vibrations shook him first through his boots as they ran across the concrete, the drum beat shaking up through his legs and into his chest.

When he reached the woman, she was on the ground, one of the men over her. Clark did nothing else besides placing  his hand on the man's shoulder to draw his attention before he  received the first hit, Clark's stomach crushed by the second male, and then smacked in the face by the other. He reeled backwards, catching the guy who lunged for him, both of them rolling to the ground. His senses flooded forward again, the taste and smell of blood filling his mouth.


Clark pushed one man off of him, and swung at another. He didn't get a single hit in, but when he looked at the corner of his eye, he saw the woman sneak away, passed the alley violence.

When he looked back towards them, he caught the moment before he got knocked to his knees. This was pain he could handle. It was clean, clear. He knew how it got there, and he knew it would eventually fade away.

Clark sucked the ground, gasping for air after the hit to his throat. The men taunted him, but Clark found his confidence soaring. It had been a long time since his enemies had been so clear to him. They were right in front of him. No need for endless searching and mind games. This, was a simple back alley fight. These men had no special powers. No super strength. If this was the type of criminal he fought, he'd be happy to do it. The dirty, and hard way. And as soon as he got a good lung of air back in him, he was ready to tear them up.

Clark got to his feet, wiped the blood from his lip, and smiled.

The two men looked at each other as Clark stepped closer.

Want some more, huh? one of the men said, barely audible over the thick atmosphere.

Clark got within inches before he lifted his arm to swing, but oddly the men turned and ran in the opposite direction. Clark paused,arm in mid air, in disbelief  that the fight was that easily won. A few seconds later, he heard a whooping noise of cop sirens behind him. Two patrolmen walking towards him.

Clark shuffled the same way the other men had, turned the corner to see them scrambling through the bar infested streets. Clark spotted a fire escape the opposite way, and made a jump for it.

Once climbed on top the rickety wrought iron stairs, he watched the two patrolmen chase after the two perpetrators, oblivious to Clark's quick escape. He smiled just then, sneaking away up a third flight as the city took care of itself. He felt a wave of nostalgia, a sense of wellness, of wholeness. Almost, wholeness.

He reached the top of the building, some six stories high, and settled in among the roof and behind the skeletons of glowing neon signs. The club's drumming deadened up there. From the roof he could almost hear the traffic from a few streets away. The sphere of the city opening up, the skyline more visible from a few feet higher.

Metropolis was before him.

Clark tasted the sharp, mineral bitterness again. He pulled the collar of his shirt toward his mouth, but saw the blood scattered through the fabric of his chest. Blotted, soaked. And in the shape of his massive scar.

"That was impressive."

Clark stiffened. He knew he could never be truly alone in this city, but the materializing voice, he knew it wasn't a stranger this time.  He held back his emotions, except for the bitterness that surfaced. He knew Oliver would never allow the real Chloe outside. This was some fake, some trick, a phony. "I'm not in the mood for magic  tricks."

Chloe, dressed in black, from her fingertips to her toes, stood silently. Her eyes lowered, the undertone had not escaped her.

After what he thought was a sign that she might leave, without another word,  Clark asked suddenly, "Why are you here?"

She looked back at him, "Why do you think?"

Clark spoke from his fat, swollen lip, " You've been following me."

"I didn't think that was a secret, anymore."

Clark turned back to the sparkling skyline, feeling her presence near him. He felt ashamed, that all he desired was the real girl. That, despite all that had happened, those feelings existed beyond his understanding. "What's impressive about getting your ass kicked?"

"Nothing," she said from behind him, her voice sounding closer than before, "unless you're fighting for others who can't fight for themselves. "

He resisted admiring how real she did look. Traces of her hair fluttered in front of her eyes with the rooftop breeze.  "So how does this work exactly? You just teleport your image through satellites? Cell phone towers?" he skeptically sifted his eyes through the sky.

"Not exactly."

Clark lifted his brows, his sour attitude soaking through his words, "So, you gonna tell me how it works, or is it just another secret kept from me..."

"I don't have time to have this argument with you," Chloe brushed back her golden hair, revealing no headset, no link to Oliver or the rest of their team, "I came here to share vital information that could save lives. Specifically about the same monster that almost killed you."

Clark stood up, turning towards her completely. Her eyes clung to the blotchy patterns of his chest, soaked through his shirt.

She wanted to say something, but instead she turned over one of her palms, gloved in black. Inside of it, was a metallic disc. A golden light illuminated from it, first as a halo, then in strands, like a sunburst. An image materialized from thin air. "Do you know what this is?"

Clark blinked from it, to her. At this point, the thought crossed that she might have been really there with him. Not a hologram. "Do you know?"

"Other than it's the  same shape carved in your chest... I know it belongs to a prominent Kryptonian family."

Clark nodded, "That's right. I guess you know just about everything there is to know, now."

Chloe shook her head, "I know most things, but not everything."

He crossed his arms, walking back and forth across the flat top roof. "Ok, then. So, what do you know?"

Chloe flexed her fingers over the disc in her palm, the hologram dematerializing, and then rematerializing again.  "I know you've been seeing a dangerous woman."

Clark stared straight through the image and across to Chloe, "Figures, since you've been surveilling me.Do you know what about?"

"I can only guess it has something to do with me."

Clark sneered, "Right, again."

Chloe took a step forward, hologram disappearing again, "If you want to know why I kept my presence from you, it's because of people like her. "

"Tess wants me to bring you to her."

"By force?" Chloe challenged.

"No," Clark shook his head, "she has the impression that we're good enough friends that I'd convince you to come with me.Willingly."

Chloe thought a moment, "I guess we're still friends, if you're volunteering this information."

Clark smiled sadly, "You and your friends did save my life. Despite lying and leading me around..." He took a deep breath and then added, "but beside all my reservations, I can't do anything to hurt you, Chloe. And I know that whatever humanitarian intentions Mercer has, the way she has gone about hunting you down, worries me. I don't blame you for hiding for so long. I only wish, you'd told me. At some point. Any time actually, all those times I visited Zatanna..."

Her eyes welled, "You wouldn't believe how badly I wanted to tell you who I was."

Clark nodded, "Actually, I think I do... y'know ten years ago, you and I might have been standing in different positions."

The moment she broke away their eyes, Clark realized that she'd come on her own. Perhaps risked the trust of her friends by seeing Clark alone. Maybe even done so in secrecy, and this wasn't the first time.

"I'm not like the other's," Clark pled to her, "The Krytonians you and Oliver encountered that night ten years ago. I tried to stop them from hurting you, and anyone else."

"And Lex Luthor?"

Clark paused a moment, remembering the violence like yesterday, "An alien program named the Brain Interactive Construct killed Lex inside the Kawatche caves."

Chloe frowned, "An A.I.?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Brainiac is... was, very dangerous. But, he's gone now. He was left to the Phantom Zone."

Chloe surmised that Clark had gone to the same place, asking, "Is that how you lost your powers?"

He nodded slowly, "I don't know what good use I am to you and Oliver on fighting this beast. I'm virtually useless, now."

"Stop it," Chloe stared back him, "I'm tired of watching you mope around, acting like you're flesh and bones. This isn't the Clark Kent I remembered from Smallville. If you really want me to believe that I can trust you, that you're the same man I trusted all that time ago, I need you to let go of this affliction you've been carrying around."

He didn't know where to start, her sudden candidness caught him off guard, ""I'm powerless, Chloe! I have no advantage, I have no clues. I've tried piecing together what I have left of my homeworld, only to learn that everyone else from Krypton is a murdering traitor.... What ever my father intended for me here on Earth, I have no idea what it was..."

"You're stuck in the past. Does it matter why your father really sent you here? All you should be thinking about is how to help protect us from the Kryptonians who followed you here."

"It's all I can think about," Clark replied, "without my powers, I'm useless. To you, to Tess, to anyone--"

"Do you think all your strengths are your abilities? The Clark I know would never give up! You're the best chance we have to defeat this thing.." Chloe yelled over the fainter drum beatings below them, "We need you, and your insight."

If she was trying to guilt him into giving in, he fought it as hard as he could. There couldn't possibly be anymore guilt left to place on his shoulders.

Chloe took a breath and shook her metallic device from her palm," I always believed in you, Clark. Even before I knew you had any powers at all, and even after. Even now. I know it's in your destiny to help us fight this. My only question is, do you believe it?"

Destiny.

He bowed his head, ruminating on her words.  He didn't believe her, not yet. And for whatever reason she did believe in him, he wasn't sure. There was always something to prove.

The metallic disc, a device she used to control her hologram technology left her hand, hovering just above the material of her dark gloves...

The gold light spilled from its origin, tumbling into array of showered pixels, and into a virtual Kawatche caves. The old cave drawings shone as if drawn only moments ago, sparkling in golden light.

"Where did you.."

"After you disappeared, I had Oliver help me preserve what we could. I've been collecting the pieces too, Clark. I never gave up on you. I've been trying so hard to understand, to go against all of my human nature.."

Chloe navigated the hologram effortlessly, a series of images scrolling past Clark.

One image, of a blonde, beautiful, slumbering woman hovered in place. On her wrist, was a silver bracelet, an emblem similar to one Clark knew so well. Another Kryptonian.

"Who is she?"

Chloe shook her head, "I don't know. She is wearing the identical Kryptonian shield, as you."

Clark turned around, "Where is she?"

"Somewhere safe. In a frozen stasis. She was found shortly after you disappeared, and in a bad state. She had been contaminated, or diseased somehow. We are still learning about the  biological makeup of Kryptonians... We are trying to gather what we can, and compare it to the evidence from the Monster sightings. We've found some similarities, but not enough to draw conclusions with what we're dealing with."

Clark questioned, "you haven't tried to cure her?"

"No." Chloe frowned, "of course not. She was found to be Kryptonian. And as far as we know, she's a danger to us. She's remained in stasis for a decade."

Clark thought on this, pacing to and fro on the roof top. The woman couldn't have been the phantom he'd been seeking all this time. She'd arrived on Earth ten years before. This was a Krptonian he'd never known about.

"I was hoping you'd have insight, Clark."

"I know you're on counting on me to have answers," Clark looked up, "but you have to understand, that most of my knowledge about my home world came through programmed transmissions from my birth father. And all of that is gone now."

Chloe stepped closer to him, her fingers handing him the metallic disc she held all night. Clark took it, the chroma of light shifting to somewhere  of blue. He held it in his palm, the cool metal flat against the callouses of his past. It was octagonal, he now realised. And just then, it struck him.

"It's not all gone, Clark." Chloe looked at him deeply, "The disc is Kryptonian technology. It took years to restore it to its operational state. To decipher its uses, and learn how to manipulate them. We're still in the rudimentary stages, but it's a start."

An involuntary smile crossed his face.

"Within it is  an archive of, well, of you. Anything I could find, buy, collect.." Chloe shrugged helplessly, "I guess I never grew out of my Wall of Weird--"

She gasped as Clark unexpectedly  kissed her.
 It was a tentative embrace, as his hands gently caught the length of her arms, and led her to him. He wasn't sure it would work, wasn't absolutely confident that she was the real thing. There was no real reason for her to be so exposed to him. There couldn't have been a logical reason, just instinct.
Like her, he didn't know it was happening until it was, happening. Sparked by the endearing ways of her, something he never lost hope for. . He supposed that she placed her decisions on pure instinct, like he just did.  And as he held her for a brief time after, his confidence dropped once he saw her shock, and not the same wanting expectation he felt. "Sorry, I... Chloe, I couldn't wait any longer."

He watched as she bowed her head, embarrassed, he thought. He wasn't sure. "I'm sorry," he said, backing away, "It wont happen again."

Embers of light drifted in a lazy whirl around them. He fingered the octagonal disc, finding some way to move past the ruined moment of joy. But he still felt it. Overjoyed. She hadn't ran away. She hadn't said no. Her lips didn't refuse his.

While standing in silence, he noticed that she remained standing near him, her concealed dress hiding everything but her face. In fact, all of her skin was covered, he thought. Even up to her neck, only the paleness beneath her chin revealed and her pretty face.

"I have to be careful," Chloe whispered, "with how I use physical contact."

Clark honed in on her voice, "Is it your meteor abilities?"

"Yes," she nodded, "The slightest touch, I can't control how my body reacts. Sometimes I go into overdrive, and I get overwhelmed. In the labs, when we extract from my cells for study, I can have small reactions."

"You're powers are still maturing."

She shook her head, "I don't know--"

"I do," Clark smiled at her, "I had abilities once. It took me years to adjust, to rein control."

 He went with instincts and for her hand, and held it. She seemed comfortable with this, the black material still a thin barrier. He looked at her, "My father used to tell me to always test my limits. That's the only way to learn."

"Clark," she looked up finally, and she was blushing, "it's more than that--"

"Just, listen. You've given me something so invaluable, so extraordinary, Chloe. You've given me hope," he smiled brilliantly, his other hand holding the disc. Blue pixels of light scattered between them like pixie dust in the night, "This disc, it could save me. It could save us all. Thank you."

She didn't say anything, he didn't know why. He'd never seen her speechless, or maybe it was that she was afraid. She looked as if she were bracing for another kiss, but he wouldn't dare. He didn't know if she'd felt pain, or pleasure like he had. He could only assume it was something unpleasant. He thought about what she had said, being in hiding all this time. Posing as someone else. It was all too familiar for him. Like looking into a mirror, watching all her fears like they were his own. "I promise I wont kiss you again, I... I wish you could experience the world, without the fear of being exploited. I want you to feel safe, around me at least."

But then she removed one of her gloves, very slowly from her hand. "I trust you, Clark. I just wasn't expecting it, was all." She looked up at him, and smiled sideways at the dried blood underneath his nose from the fight minutes ago. "Your lips are swollen.... it hurts, doesn't it?"

"No," he said, "not much."


Her bare fingers reached to his lips, and traced them carefully, the other hand blotting away the faint traces of redness. "Liar. I felt it when you kissed me." Her fingers left his lips, travelled down to his chin, then his neck. To his chest. They stopped there with a firmness, exactness. He knew she could feel it, just below the surface. He knew he could feel his heart beating faster for her.

She whispered something, but he couldn't answer, too captivated by the way her skin felt when he caressed her face, and brushed back her hair. She seemed to forget too, closing her eyes when he smoothed his fingers against her ear.

There was a voice, and a large city waiting for them in the back of both of their minds. There were anxieties, massive agendas to take on. Monsters to topple, and elusive truths to unveil.

 But in that moment, they chose to focus only on each other. Clark chose this truth. Unpeeling the collar of her jacket just so he could feel her.

His fingers traced her neckline, as hers did his. But with his, he was feeling for  her heart beat that was ingrained in his own. He found it just underneath her delicate skin waiting for him, her pulse so strong that it sparked an excitement so intoxicating that he couldn't help but be drawn closer.

The answer was yes. Clark did still believe in destiny. In what strange ways his path unravelled and lead, Clark, for the first time in many years, felt he had found his sense of bearing, his direction. His ground. And now, more than ever, he was terrified of losing it, slipping away. He had lost everything. His birthworld, his powers, and now possibly his home world if they never figured out how to stop what his ancestors had done.

 But Chloe had given him hope, something stronger than all the doubts he had. And as she stood silently beside him in the moonlight, she gave a little of her self, gave up a little more of her control. That she gave to him as he kissed her again, this time with her permission. And then again.

Among their bodies, the hologram reverted to the Kawatche Caves, the drawings floating as glowing strings of light. Clark closed his eyes, the both of them huddled on a nondescript rooftop among the largest city in the world. It could have been anywhere that he held her, any place would be perfect. But with Metropolis surrounding them, he knew this was it.

"I know you're her," he said with whispering conviction.

Ancient drawings illuminated over Metropolis.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

For the Remainder, pt 4 + pt 5

4


*
"How are we doing?" A gruff figure leaned against the table with Chloe's body across it. Clark's lifeless body was next to hers, Lois praying beside it. The party was now afterhours, and the hang overs were soaked in dread. 

Victor rubbed his eyes, unsure how to answer Bruce without upsetting the entire room. "I don't see any change."

Bruce traced Chloe's lips with his eyes... they had turned blue like Clarks. Her flesh was still luminescent with a rose tinge, but that too had dimmed a degree. Worried that she too had succumbed to the parasite, he turned toward the black plant growing from the Clark's chest. The only hope Bruce had was that its physical manifestation had contained itself to Clark's body, and none of it spread to hers. 

"Explain to me why her body temperature is rising?"

Victor nodded to Emil Hamilton, a research doctor brought in by Oliver. He'd only arrived twenty minutes before, and his briefing of the situation was as of that. Brief. 

"Her life support systems could be sustaining his," Emil supplied, as a guess. 

"So, he's still alive?" Lois perked up from his bedside. 

"Possibly." The room quieted.  Clark had lost his pulse and brain activity half an hour ago. They'd attempted the defibrillator, but nothing. The charges had only excited the parasite's growth as it fed into his skin. From what all they could read on their monitor, Clark was brain dead. None of them had said it, but those who knew, knew. 

"It's a good possibility," Victor added, "this parasite is feeding on something to keep it alive. We're only waiting for the biopsy to examine what we have."

"Realistically," Bruce asked the room, "how much longer can we wait?" He had asked the question before, but he asked it again. How could they be sure Chloe wasn't showing the same steady descent that Clark did in the early stages? What stage had he been in when they found him? Who knows how long he was infected before then. It could have been an hour, or several hours... Lois recounted Clark locking himself away for most of the day. No one knew for sure. 

Lois, having refrained from touching Clark and his infected body all night, stood from his bed side and stared at Bruce.

 "We could lose her, too."

"No," Lois shook her head, tears all dry by then. She moved in between their two bodies, her hand resting on her cousin's. "Chloe... she'll never give up on him."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"There is a plan B," Emil suggested quietly, Chloe's faint heart beat in the background, "Ms. Sullivan's brain activity is elevated, unusually so... In fact, there are two, distinct patterns I've been able to trace.. it's as if her mind is in conversation with another. It's nothing I've ever seen."

Victor narrowed his eyes at the sine waves that spread across the screen, "Are you implying...?"

Emil nodded, "She has found a way to communicate with, him."

Victor traced the electrodes connecting Clark to Chloe. It was a fine, insulated wire.

A very fine wire. 

What could Chloe Anne Sullivan really do? Was she a spark, a small surge of electricty, of consciousness sent back into Clark? Would that be enough to wake him, to save him? They all waited, counted on a decades old experimental success with Lex's machine. Was it truly working? Or were all the signs of life really just electrical impedance?

Suddenly, all of their questions were interrupted by the panic chirping of the EKG. Chloe's heart became a jagged saw toothed string that bounced from floor to ceiling. 

"Her temperature's rising!"

"She's burning up!"

Chloe's body convulsed upon the table, acutely at first, then followed by bouts of violent throws of her abdomen. 

"What's happening?!" 

Party debris was kicked across the floor as the room shifted sides.

"Do something!"

Someone rolled the defibrillator cart closer to Chloe's side.

"No, wait!" Emil grabbed the paddles, "the voltage could kill mixed with her temperature now!"

The room was hot, sticky. Panic adhering to every face. The thought spurred that they might not lose one, but two of their family that night. 

The members crowded around Chloe's unstable body, while Clark's lay behind them. 

"Bring me ice," Emil whispered at first, wiping his sweat and swallowing down the stone in his throat, "Lots of ice! We need to cool her temperature down first--" 

The room drowned itself in commotion once more, shoes scattering to the kitchen and then back again. Emil commanding orders, and others challenging them. And there was Lois' faint voice, kneeling beside her husband, praying. 

They gathered ice packs around her neck, forehead, underarms... anywhere ice would fit. 

No one knew exactly how Chloe's elusive healing powers worked, and it was only Bruce who internally questioned if this sudden rise in temperature was a side affect... Nevertheless, no one knew for sure. 

Bruce took a step back from the table, gave his face a hard rub. They had lost control. They had lost leadership. Steering blindly, and now, they were about to lose everything. Bruce found Victor at the corner of the room, the other man's face apparent that he shared the same thoughts. Bruce joined him on the wall,  "We're only burning time, here."

"We have to give her more time. The brain waves we're scanning shows activity there."

"How much time is too late?"

"Don't know for sure."

"What are our options for pulling her out?"

"Don't know for sure."

"Give me another answer."

"We could disrupt the brain activity and jolt her awake--"

"Will that work?"

"Maybe."

There was silence. 

"And what will happen to Clark?"



****



Spinning. 

That's what it felt like when I woke up.  Some sort of inertia where my guts felt like they were in my brains, and my thoughts were stuck somewhere inside my turning stomach. I rolled over from where I was, my guts telling me I needed to vomit, but I found out I was already face down in the snow. 

I couldn't feel my face, or my fingers or toes. All I could feel was this inner inertia, spinning me around, using my chest as an anchor. Spinning, taken captive by a force that wouldn't let go . 

Something dreadful had happened to me. 

Some thing had brought me here. 

But I couldn't remember what it was. 

I looked to where a old tree sprung above me. Its branches were bare, and black, a strange dark tendril that reached out, and faded into the night. I stared at that tree branch for what seemed like hours, the memory of something very important just on the cusp of my mind. It was in the pit of my stomach. Lost in the windings of those black branches. Curves and knots covered by a dust of fine snow. 


"They're really far away, aren't they?"

The young voice hit me. It was Clark, snuck up behind me as I had pondered why I was there. He looked about middle school age, and I suppose we were around that time. I felt the pit in my chest now, looking at him. His natural smile tugged at mine too, only I couldn't feel mine. 

I threw my hands over my face,"Oh no!" 

Clark plopped down beside me, "What's wrong, Chloe?"

"I can't feel my face!"

He laughed, "well, don't worry. It's still there." He reached over and took my hand, "You're probably just cold. You've been out here for a while." 

 I looked down at both of our hands, intrigued to find them so small. 

"Even though you can't feel it," Clark said, "you're smiling. Ear to ear, too."

"Good," was all I could say. The spinning took my breath away when he let go. The important thing, it was so close to my tongue. I felt I might have spoken it, but all of my breath was taken at the same moment. 

His finger lifted up into the sky, past the dark tree branch and to the glittering blanket above. "You know, I read that the stars we can see now are actually thousands of years old and their light is only now reaching us. Some of them have probably burned all their energy and gone. So in a way, this is kinda like looking into the past."

I looked hard towards where Clark was gazing, sensing that he was both looking at nowhere and everywhere at the same time. As the seconds moved past, I began to look in between the stars, into the abyss that separated them all from another. From afar, it was a microscopic space, but in reality, I knew they were lifetimes apart.  The past, turned out, was a vast, dark place. 

A bit of snow drifted down from the tree branch, reminding me it was there. 

I peered at Clark, seeing his mind wander off somewhere I wanted to be. He looked perfectly at ease with himself. His thoughts no longer restless like I had known them to be. He was in his solitude, looking at the night sky. Only, he wasn't completely alone. For that, I remember feeling very fortunate to share with Clark. Two people, together, without any good reason to be other than, good company. 

My world began to spin again. I was trying to remember how we had gotten to this place. But everytime I dug deeper into my memory, I was reminded to enjoy the moment. The stars. The company. 

For the first time in a long while, I didn't feel alone anymore. 

"What happens..." I asked after some time, "what happens if two stars collide? Does that happen?"

I asked a question I already knew the answer to. But for the same reason why you'd watch a sun rise, the very same sun rise over and over again... no two answers were perfectly the same.

I saw two dark eye brows lift in curiosity and then intrigue. For a moment, I thought he had figured me out. Known all my secrets in just a hairs moment. He hopped up to his feet, and I felt myself being dragged to mine shortly after. He had grabbed both my hands, keeping both our arms taught from another. For a moment we were so close, I thought I could feel his breath on my nose. 

Clark lengthened his arms, forcing me to push away with mine. 

"Well," Clark's dark eyes steadied me, "I've never seen it, but I've heard it's a rare thing to witness with your own eyes..."

He leaned backward as he spun to the side, forcing me to keep up.

"But, let's say two stars catch each other..." Clark grinned boyishly, "well, they begin to spin kinda like this." 

We were dancing, and laughing, the dizziness from before, and from now mingling together and creating a warm fuzz in my head. 

We spun  faster, "they spin and spin until they get closer and closer..."

"Until?" I looked across the blur of our bodies, the dark branches crowning us like a stationary mobile charm. 

"Until..." Clark spun us one last time, only this time caught me in his arms before I fell out of our circle. 

We were both laughing until we noticed just how close we had become. 

"Well, happens Clark?"

He looked down at me, "They eventually do collide and something really extraordinary happens. Something even rarer, more beautiful than you can imagine."

 My stomach made those funny spinning feelings again, my chest lurching after it. 

I smiled, and then gazed off into the distance where a bright light lured both our attention. I thought it might have been Clark toying with my curiosities, but after it grew brighter my smile faded into pure horror. 




****



"She's coming back to us!" She's back, we got her back!"

My chest hurled forward into a bright light, sharp sensations across my body, reviving it to life. I was back inside the apartment. Screaming all around me. 

Everyone all around me.

"Get me more ice! Hurry!"

Pain, I felt pain where ever they were touching me. Bare, and cold, I could feel my face again, and this time I wasn't smiling. I could barely turn my head to see Clark next to me. His eyes were still staring upwards. 

"No!" I screamed, muffled and choked  by a tracheal tube in my airway.

I couldn't speak. 

I couldn't speak.

I could only hope that--

"Hit the AED again, now!"




*




"Chloe?"

I couldn't speak.

I couldn't speak. 

"Chloe."

I turned, and found myself back with Clark. 

I had seen the future.  Or was it the past? The other place that was the dreadful present. A place that was not quite here. 

We were in a different place. The tree, the snow, the stars... 

Clark looked back at me, the disguises melted away. We were older now. Our childhood long gone behind us. I remembered now the place before this. Who was he really? A scared boy from an alien world? Or was he my confident friend that stole my breath?

"Kal," I said instinctively, feeling traitorous as I did. It was like being naked for the first time, all of your protective layers stripped from you with a single word. He looked back at me, his clear blue eyes devouring mine. He had seen what I'd seen. He had seen his own lifeless body. The realization, the resolve, the clarity. It was within his silence that my own fear grew the same roots of the black tree that loomed over us. I knew that he had seen what I had, too. 

"Clark," I whispered painfully. 

"You have to let me go," he said to me. His eyes were ever so clearer now. They looked upon me as if they already knew I wouldn't be strong enough to save him on my own this time. They looked understanding, they looked forgiving. But his words to me felt like a betrayal. I couldn't believe this man would ever look into the truth and turn away so easy. Why was it that he could give up with out a fight when he knew perfectly well I never could?


In the back of my mind, I heard all these pent up arguments brewing over like a storm cloud. All the years when I had confronted him, and pleaded with him to trust me. When I had proven him wrong, or proven him right. The years when there was hardly any trust left, followed by the years when I wasn't sure  if I even trusted myself. I learned to forget all of those ends, and begin again. I looked at him with these pleadings in my eyes. This man had a family, a great life, he was the world's hero, yet he couldn't fight one last fight?

 There were so many reasons why I couldn't just let him go. But I couldn't say anything. Perhaps in the sum of it all, and what ever remained of my love of him, I had nothin' left to say. Somehow, I choked back my tears and whispered, "I'm too weak to go back alone, now." 

I could feel how cold we were out there alone. We weren't quite lost, but we weren't quite home.The dark space between us blended together for a moment, our bodies circling. The spinning sensation returning again, only now I knew he could feel what I was feeling. For a moment, just the briefest of moments, there was no space. 


"Wherever we end up, neither one of us will go alone."






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


5


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



They told me I had asked for two things in my sleep:

 The first was Clark. 

The second was cake. 

I knew that was supposed to be funny somehow, but the residual anesthesia could have lasted into the next day.

Slowly I opened my eyes, feeling my way across the shadows of faces I recognized to be my friends. 

"Take is easy Chloe, lie back down."

I felt hands forcing me back down to my bed, but by then I recognized that I was not in the same room as before. It was dim where I was, a light from a window shrouded by a pair of sheer curtains.  I looked beside me, and found my bed side, empty.

"Where-"

"Shh.." this time it was Lois who was beside me, "can you believe Clark woke up first?"

"Clark," I said, no longer gagged by a plastic tube, "woke up?'

Lois smiled, brushed the hair from my face, "It was the most wonderful gift in the world."



*




Lois led me inside the kitchen area where I smelled a hot pot of coffee brewing. Most of the house was evacuated, the party guests fled to a place where the suspect in all of this mess roamed. Most of everything was news to me, as I learned I'd been out of it for nearly a day afterward.

 Even Clark had risen from his death bed to join the crusade. 

I regained my balance, feet snuggled inside Lois' fuzzy house slippers, my arm wrapped inside of my cousins for extra stability. I sat in the Kent's kitchen, sipped my coffee. I waited for its warmth to soak through my body. There were still party balloons, paper mache, and streamers gathered around. The pile of untouched, forgotten gifts scattered across the floor.  The extra volts they'd given me made me a little weak ontop of the energy I had expended upon healing Clark. Or I had supposed I had healed him. 

Lois debriefed me on that all haps that I had missed while asleep. All the data Victor recorded during Clark's apparent death, and revival.  The success of using myself, and Lex Luthor's relic technology. The biopsy of the black plant. 

Lois said it was called, "Black Mercy." A parasitic plant that fed on its host until it died. Lois said that once Clark woke up, the plant detached itself from his chest, shriveled and died. 

"The plant didn't just feed on its host, the host also fed on it," I said to myself. It had a power over Clark, over both of us. And I knew if the outside world hadn't come crashing down with the crash cart we might have never seen true daylight again.  

"I'm just so glad it's all over, Chloe." Lois praised me again across the kitchen counter. 

"Yeah," I said, trying to capture the same enthusiasm in my own voice. "I'm glad too."


*

I held my cousin for a very long time before I said goodbye. Explained why I couldn't stay, and was made to promise that I would visit her very soon. Before I left the Kent apartment, I tried, very discretely, and in vain, to find where Jimmy tossed my small gift. I couldn't give it to Clark now. I just couldn't. 

I left Metropolis empty handed, and annoyed that I couldn't retrieve something so small.  It nagged at me that one day Clark, or Lois might find it. And I hated that they would both smile, and act joyous accordingly when I knew the meaning of it has been lost somewhere before the party. 


*

In a few hours I arrived at my studio apartment, a place I kept separate from everyone else. I learned  long ago to give up Metropolis and cozy down into a smaller city. Cozy was a good word for my new life now.  I had a different name here, even a different hair color at times. And sometimes, when I looked in the mirror in my tiny bathroom, I could see the faintest hint of happiness in my own young reflection. I knew it would take time, and I was patient. That was one thing I had learned all these years.  The me thirty years ago wasn't the me now. My own youthful appearance would occasionally try to deceive me, but deep down I felt my history. I turned out the bathroom light and made for my bed. 

That night there was no temptation to check my mail, messages or urgent messages. That night I laid down, finding it difficult to turn this page like any other day. I felt that it wasn't over yet.

The sun set for the second time, this time a little quieter in my small apartment. Laying in my own bed,  I watched outside my blinds for the first signs of night falling. Shades of deep blue. A distant star. Behind my scattered thoughts, drifts of sleep came.  I let go of my quiet anxiety, my restlessness, I let go my consciousness. I wasn't as much tired as that something told me I should rest. My anxiety, my selfishness that I was the one who saved him, yet the only person who didn't get to say Happy Birthday... 
I drifted with my eyes closed, not quite asleep, but paralyzed by the stillness of my apartment. My sank deeper into my soft bed, and I heard distant curtains flutter in the moonlight. I had left the patio door open. 

I left the patio open. 

Why had I left the patio open?

It was enough to drag my eye lids open and myself awake. I shuffled my feet towards the kitchen to where my small patio was. The lace  curtains billowed towards me as I reached for the sliding door, and shut it. Before I did, I took a last glance at the dark sky. 

"They told me you left without any cake."

My body froze. I turned to see Clark bathed in the shadows of my kitchen. In front of him on my table was a square of red and blue vanilla sheet cake on a paper plate. 

I covered my torso with my arms, not wearing much else besides the shadows and moonlight, "I knew I didn't leave this door open."

"Please," he said while staying in his dark corner, "don't be mad because I came here." Clark looked cautious as he spoke to me. He knew he had broken his promise. I knew he had come partly to show that he had defeated the man who had threatened to kill both of us. Mongul. I didn't have to say a word, but with Clark's confident silence I knew at least that part was over. 

"You know I like my privacy," I said, reaching for my silk robe I had left by my couch, "how did you find me anyway?"

He said nothing, and offered no explanation. 

I knotted my robe around my waist, "If you came here to thank me--"

"I just came to deliver cake."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"Well, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Seconds past, I opened the patio door again, expecting him to leave. "Happy Birthday."

Clark then walked towards me, and I finally saw his face. Healthy, handsome. Dark features and a worried demeanor. He had aged almost as less as myself, except for the tension lines I spied between his brows. He grew closer to me, his large stature towering as he got to the door. But he wouldn't walk out it. He stayed between me and the outside. The curtains rose in the air, the wind catching them. Coyly illustrating the strong current that lingered between us. I remembered feeling this in the early days of our friendship. Perhaps the first day.

Finally, he spoke, "I came to apologize. I never meant for you to... see me like that."

"Everyone saw you."

He shook his head, "I don't mean, that. I mean, what you... what the Black Mercy made you see."
I bent my head down, "I was wondering if that was all real."

"More real than anything else," Clark said reflectively, "I have been wondering how much of it you remember?"

I spied at him, my mind searching through the corners of his careful expression. In the midnight planes of his face, I could still see that scared little boy in the ice and snow,  "Lois told me what the parasite was, did. Why would you choose to ever be alone? Out of all your wishes, your inner desires... you could have had everything, Clark."

"I can't explain that," he glanced at me, "But I should ask you the same question. Why a woman such as yourself would choose to hide from the entire world, from all who cares about her?" That's when he took me by the shoulders, "you and I both know our lives..."

I broke free from his arms and stomped over to the kitchen table. 

I heard Clark from behind me,"I turned forty, yesterday. That's supposed to mean half of your life, y'know?But we both know that mortal numbers mean nothing."

I stuffed a piece of stale birthday cake into my mouth to prevent myself from saying something I knew I would regret. 

"I know you're angry at me. You think I took your life away from you."

I spun back around, but I couldn't retort back enough without spitting cake. 

"You think the meteor infection has... well," Clark sighed, "Let's face it. The infection has turned you immortal. And I know you blame me--"

"I don't blame you!" 

"Chloe, in another fifty years," Clark shouted over my own voice which wavered with anger, "In fifty years, who all will be there? All of our friends, our family? It will just be us."

It was something I had been avoiding all these years. 

Death. 

My friends.

 And now, here it was lashing out. I took what remained of the sheet cake in my hands and hurled it towards his daring face. "You were going to give it all up!" Weren't you!"

He swiftly ducked of course, cake spiraling somewhere off the patio, the balcony and down below. 

"You didn't care anymore, you were just going to leave everyone. Everything!" I snarled, snapped, cringed to hear his answer. 

He paused once my tears overwhelmed the anger inside of me. Everything broke at once. All the words I had failed to say to him before. He had cornered my at the end of my world and I had no where else to turn. I had to face what I feared most. 

"You were going to leave me here. By myself. Well," I sniffled, "you're right I do blame you."

"I'm sorry," was all he said to me. 

I wiped my face, licked the icing off my fingers, and opened a bottle of water from the fridge. I took a cool drink before I said anything else. "I guess what I don't understand is why you would want to be alone." 

"Alone?" Clark repeated, "I really don't think you remember much of that dream." He took the bottle from my hand, set it down carefully behind me. His eyes hypnotized the weariness I felt in mine. "I suppose we're all searching for a piece of home, Chloe. A place of solitude, of peace. A place where we're never alone."

Since I had known Clark as a boy, he had loved Jonathon and Martha Kent with all his heart. But he had lost both now, and he explained to me his longing to search for his biological parents. One of his real desires to be reunited with his own. To be immortal among them, even in death. This was Clark's true dark side, tragic if it were. He spoke to me as if he were revealing one last secret about himself. Something I had never seen before. True vulnerability from the Man of Steel, so they called him. Who wouldn't want to be home? To be taken by the hand and led home after a tired journey... Across a long distance, perhaps an unknown distance. 

Perhaps Clark knew this possibility was a farce, and could only fool himself for so long. Besides, he said, he knew I would come for him. It was this admission that I lost words for. There was Clark, there, beside me, but the other Clark I had never known so far away from me. 

It was a dark space, the void of the past. Who knew when or if these two distances would ever spiral close again. I remembered that everything in the universe was expanding, growing farther and farther apart. 

He bent towards me, leaned into my ear as I closed my eyes. Everything shrouded in darkness except for the whispering of his words. I remembered the dream. The cathartic moment of wisdom. The rarity of two things every finding each other in all of the chaos created. It was an explosive, beautiful thing, he told me. 

"I brought something else," he set a small gift-wrapped box next to my hand, "Yours was the first I opened."

I barely had time to blink before he did something I never expected, not anymore. Clark bent down, and kissed me. Not on the head or the cheek either.  I have often thought about that kiss, and it's meaning. And as I sit here thinking about it now, I still wonder. 

He left without another word. 

And as I stood in my apartment, my fingers tracing my face, my lips, I opened the small box, finding exactly what I had left inside. It was the same card I had picked, with my own delicate writing.

 It said:


Dear friend, 

I still do not know what to give to you on this special day. Anything material fades, and so does unfulfilled wishes from the last years...

Know that this came from my heart, from many long periods of time when I was thinking of you. Know that this gift is only for you, and should be kept as our secret. 

It is a most sincere wish for your happiness... an elusive, fleeting thing. It's neither a feeling, or a slight moment in your life. It is a cumulative value of all of your life. Selfless as your life is, I know that you would never make this wish for yourself. Don't try to argue, because I know you will. But when you finally come to your senses, know that happiness is a choice. 

In all sincerity  and love, here is me blowing out the last candle. Here is to happiness in whatever comes in your future, as long at that journey may be.