Almost Clark (Chapter Twenty-One)

Spoilers for Crimson

Chapter Twenty-One

This was too weird for Clark. I mean, Lois was gorgeous, sure. But he didn't like the way she was pawing him. There was something desperate. Something wrong abut the way she acted.

"Now, Lois --" He tried to get her hands away. Chloe was already across the room, giggling once more at the CD before sitting at her computer. Couldn't she help him before running off to research?

"You can pour on the modesty all you want, Smallville," she said coquettishly. "It only makes you that much more adorable."

Now he was adorable? He pulled her behind him, trying to get her out of there. But she pushed at him, pulling him into a phone booth. "Lois, what happened to you when I left last night?"

"I went home... alone." She latched her arms around his neck. "But you know where I wanted to be."

He wanted to ask her what she did before that, but her lips were on his and...

Suddenly, that was fine with him. He wanted lips and arms and breasts that pushed against him. It was good. It was all good. He pulled her out and found an empty office.

"Nothing screams romance like a dusty newspaper office," Lois said, smirking. "Come on. You can do better than this."

He gazed at her. God, she was lush. Her legs were long and tanned. Her hips curved out very nicely from her waist. And her breasts... "I was planning on it." He kissed her again, hard, enjoying every curve that he felt in his hands and against him. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to take her, possess her, fuck her right there.

Lois broke away. "Not that I'm complaining, but isn't this a little sudden? I mean, all this time, one kiss, and all of a sudden, you like me?" There was something vulnerable in her face. He didn't like it. It wasn't any fun. He bent to her again. "No, I mean it. This is for real, isn't it?"

He studied her face and suddenly wasn't sure what he was doing. And there were these noises in his head. Almost voices. They became clearer as he stared at her. And as different in tone as they were alike in sound.

What are you doing... not Lois... just wanna fuck... somebody love me, please... tasty, little thing... But Lana... That other bitch. Serves her right... don't hurt anyone, please... fuck 'em all... bitches... no...

He almost moved away, nervously licking his lips. But something flowed through him, this sort of... euphoria. Then the voices just... stopped. They were no more. And there was only feeling.

"Oh, yeah," he said softly. "This couldn't be more real."

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

Chloe, I can't say that I'm surprised that you're celebrating here. After all, once Lana's off the market, all those years of unrequited pining may actually pay off. I can't say I haven't thought about it.

The words still echoed in Chloe's head. And they hurt. He'd been this way before. He'd taunted her that way before. But Clark had explained it later, during those months when years of explanations trickled from him. After she knew. It had been Lionel. But this hadn't been Lionel. But it hadn't been Clark, either. And that left one possibility.

Was he angry she'd stolen the necklace? Was that why he deliberately hurt her? Was that why he came in with Lois hanging on him, then left with Lana? When he knew full well that was the blow that would hurt the most.

She wanted answers. More than just her feelings were broken now. Jimmy had dumped her. That hurt, too. She never thought such a sweet face could look at her with such contempt.

He ruined it. He always ruined everything. And, this time, she'd hold him accountable.

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

Clark watched as Lois disappeared down the stairs. It was strange, but he... He remembered everything. Usually, red K left him blank, exhausted, and strangely sweaty. Was there a difference when it flowed through him rather than against his skin? He remembered his actions and the way he'd felt. So many feelings at once. He'd given in to all of it. He was himself, but not. He'd wanted Lana, as he always had, wanted to save her. But he also wanted... more.

He winced as he remembered again the things he'd said to his mother, to Lois, to Lana, to...

"We need to talk."

To Chloe. "Yes, we do." He sat on the couch. "I think I've figured out something about the..." he trailed off. She was glaring at him, holding a gray box. He didn't think it was a present. "What's the matter?"

She said nothing, only opened the box and reached in, letting it drop as she pulled out her fist. "I don't want to talk to Clark," she said ominously, coming toward him.

He felt like he was suffocating. He knew. He knew what was in her hand. He got up from the couch and backed away. "Please... Chloe, you can't... we don't talk about that. It's..."

She stomped her foot. "I don't care anymore!" She held it out and he felt, ridiculous as it was, that he shouldn't look at it. He kept his pleading gaze on her face. "I've had the worst day of my life and that's saying a..." she broke off, tears in her eyes, "a whole lot," she finished, shaking. "I want some answers and, if you won't put it on, I'll put it on for you."

He was frozen,backed against the railing, trying not to let the thoughts in. "I can't let you," he choked out.

She stopped, crying now. "Then I'll destroy it," she said. "I swear I will devote my life to hunting down every red rock in this town and make sure you never find another."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "No," he said softly, but with no clear idea why he said it.

He heard her sniffle. "Then let me," she sobbed.

He didn't say anything, didn't even open his eyes. He only lowered his head. And then he felt her breath in his hair, her arms on his shoulders, the rough beads against his collarbone, and her hands at his neck...

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

She stepped back and waited, still shaking. It was the closest she and Clark had ever come to the truth and it was jarring.

After a moment, his eyes opened, flashing red. He stared at her, saying nothing.

"Well?" she demanded.

"We've been over this," he said coldly. "I don't explain myself to you."

Her hurt turned to rage. "Well, it's time to start." She paced away, though she felt his eyes follow her. "It wasn't Clark and I know it wasn't Luthor again, so it was..."

"Neither of us," he said suddenly. She whirled to face him. "And both," he added, looking confused. It was a look she'd never seen on Kal.

"Fine. Explain that."

He suddenly strode forward. "Why are you so eager to know?" he demanded. "You never question these things usually. Is it because of them?"

"Them..."

"Admit it," he said, circling her. "You're just pissed that it was all about Lana. If it had been you who was dragged away from the party, you'd be ecstatic."

"That's not true," she said, color rushing to her face. "The things you said... you were so cruel, so..."

"Right?" he interjected.

"So you admit it was you!"

"It was..." He suddenly fisted his hands at his side, shaking. "I don't know!" he exploded. "I was there and he was there and we just wanted... everything." He finished quietly, still with that confusion in his eyes.

She was dumbfounded. Kal seemed to actually be telling the truth. Her brain began working. If red K on the skin, brings out Kal and puts Clark away, then in the system, it must... join them. But in the worst way. This man had been worse than Clark and even than Kal. Every bad impulse of both joined to...

Her mind stopped clicking the pieces as she noticed his gaze. It was hard and cruel. She should have known this was coming. She'd aired her grievances and now it was his turn.

"You tricked me," he hissed. "And for him!"

She knew who him meant. And she refused to apologize. She'd had many happy months with Jimmy. Even if it was over now, she didn't, wouldn't, regret it. Still, he didn't need to know it was over. "I'm happy with Jimmy. He cares about me."

"He pants at your feet like a puppy," Kal sneered. "Is that what you want?"

"At least with Jimmy, I have some dignity," she said alowly. "You treated me like your whore and nothing else. Clark treats me like a personal search engine. Jimmy cares about all of me and I won't let you..."

"So that's what you want from us?" He laughed. "Blind adoration." He reached for her. "that's not what you need, you can't tell me that, late at night, he's who you think about."

"Since when have you cared what I think about?" she asked weakly, feeling her resistance crumble the closer he pulled her.

"I don't have to care," he said softly, lowering his head. "I just have to get what I..."

"No!" She broke away. She wasn't letting it happen again. Every time she thought it was over, she went back. She ran down the steps and shot toward her car. But she'd only got just outside the barn and he was in front of her. He pulled at her again but, this time, she wasn't about to run. Instead, she reached for his neck, pulling his head down for the kiss she just couldn't deny herself any longer.

As his mouth devoured hers, she poured herself into the kiss. She poured the loneliness, the sexual frustration, the pain of these bizarre years into it. And he lapped it all up, crushing her to him so tightly she could barely breathe. He would feast on her pain. It was probably what brought him back without Lana to drive him.

Her hands stole to his collar and up. She hooked her fingers in the necklace and pulled as hard as she could.

The arms around her suddenly lost their grip and she stumbled back. She stared at him, panting, as his eyes cleared and his body shook lightly, sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes locked to hers, wide with something like horror. They matched her own.

She ran, hands shaking as she pulled her keys from her pocket. She didn't care if the necklace lay on the ground. She didn't want it anymore. She knew, deep down, that she came for more than explanations. And she'd almost got it. Next time, she might not resist. She'd said no too many times. She was running out of refusals.

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

Clark fell to his knees, sweating and trembling slightly. He saw the necklace in front of him. Still together, but with a broken clasp. Something was telling him to pick it up, put it on. Get her.

He pushed the thoughts away as he crawled backwards. He needed distance. He didn't think about those things. Those thoughts were best left alone.

A voice called from his left. "Clark?"

"Mom," he answered weakly.

"Clark!" He felt her hands on him, helping him up. "What happened? I saw Chloe leave and..."

"I'm fine. Just need a minute. Mom, upstairs... There's a box. A lead box on the floor. Can you..." She looked at him strangely, but nodded. When she came back down, he pointed to the necklace. "Put it in."

She stared down at the necklace grimly. "Clark, that necklace. It's..."

"I know, Mom," he said tiredly. "Just put it in."

She did so silently and closed it. He walked toward the house, knowing she'd follow. Once inside, he slumped at the dining room table.

She placed the box in the middle and sat across from him, her expression unreadable. "How long have you had it?" she asked.

"Two years," he said, letting his eyes fall to the table.

"I see." She let the silence stretch for a moment. "And why haven't you destroyed it?"

"I couldn't make myself."

She was silent again. He couldn't look up. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. "And you've been putting it on."

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

"And that's why you always seem to run off," she said, her voice growing louder. "You've been pretty much drugging yourself and running all over doing God knows what..."

"No," he broke in. "I think I know what. I just..." He finally looked up, chilled by her stony expression. "I just didn't want to think about it. I blocked it out. I... Mom, I think I'm going crazy."

Her expression softened. "Clark, you aren't crazy. When you put that on, it makes you..."

"No," he said quietly. "It doesn't make me. I let it." He got up and moved to the window. "I put it on. I make that choice. Then I... decide to forget." He let out a humorless chuckle. "It works, too. I can bend steel and manipulate my own mind to block it all out, the things I do."

She came up behind him, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Things like what, Clark?"

"I don't want to think about her... them," he quickly amended.

His mother wasn't stupid. He heard her gasp as soon as she put it together. "Chloe," she breathed.

He nodded.

"So you..."

"He," Clark said. "When I'm with her, I'm not myself. I can't see it all, but I say things, do things that..."

"Have you hurt her?" she asked, her tone hard again.

"Not physically," Clark said. "She doesn't seem to hate me... yet. And she still..."

"Keeps your secrets," his mother finished. "This one, too."

"She even keeps it from me," Clark said sadly. "She'd do anything for me, I guess. Even this."

He felt his mother move away. "Poor Chloe."

Clark paced away from the window. "But all she has to do is say no. Why can't she just..."

"How can she?" Martha sat down and leaned her head on her hand, lightly massaging her forehead. "You know how she's always felt about you." Martha looked up, suddenly seeming so tired. "Yesterday, we talked about this. The red Kryptonite drugs you, yes. But it also brings out feelings you repress."

"But I don't want to hurt Chloe, use her."

"Obviously, you do, Clark," she said impatiently. "You want to make sure she stays 'in your back pocket,' as you said, just in case things never work with Lana. Even Lois now."

"No, I..."

Martha held up a hand. "And though I'd think she would be too smart to put up with it, she obviously has anyway. And it's cruel of you, Clark."

"So can you help me?"

"Help you what?" she asked, her expression weary and sad.

"Destroy the necklace. Hide it. Whatever we have to..."

"No." She got up, giving the box a long look. "Whatever these issues are, they won't just go away with the necklace. They're underneath. You have to talk this out with yourself. And then you have to talk about it with Chloe."

"Mom, please, I..."

"No, Clark. You're an adult now. You have to clean up your own messes. You have to make the decision to destroy that thing and carry it out." She stared hard at him. "I just hope you have the strength to do what's right."

She left him staring after her, feeling more alone than ever.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Two