Before Sunset (Part Thirty-Nine)

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And now my ending of Hidden, taking a line here and there and some shades of a certain conversation from Fanatic.  

Part 39 

He wasn't avoiding her, not exactly. 

He just happened to go into the police station to give his statement after he'd seen Chloe leave. Then he just happened to go for a walk when her car pulled up to his house -- one that started with a one-second mile that had him walking increasingly fast circles around Crater Lake and wondering what to do now that everything had changed... or changed back. 

Walking didn't seem to help clear his mind. It wasn't as if he could get bonelessly tired now. One on level, he should be happy. He could handle college and helping on the farm much more easily. But he was still coming back to a different life than the one he'd last seen with powers and he just needed to figure out what it all meant before he added in the complication that was Chloe. Being with Lana had actually seemed simpler. Lana had been more complacent, more willing to accept that there were things he couldn't tell her. But Chloe... even before she knew, she shined a floodlight in all his dark corners. 

Dark. He stared up at a sculpted angel, realizing he was at the cemetery. How fitting considering there was something dark at work, as Jor-El said. Did he want to drag Chloe into this? Her life was just starting to work out. She was on the fast track to probably getting everything she'd ever wanted. Dragging her into his mess could take all that away. And she wouldn't have to be dragged in at all. This was Chloe. She'd march right into the fray. 

"Clark Kent?" He started slightly, then turned to see Lana step into what light was left and cross her arms. "What are you doing creeping around the woods?" 

He hadn't exactly been within a ten foot radius of her for months. He was pretty sure she didn't want him to be. "I'm sorry. I'll go." He turned. 

"I wasn't kicking you out," she said behind him. "Just... having deja vu. I think that might have been what I said to you right here about... four years ago?" 

He turned back. "That was it, wasn't it?" 

"I think that was the first time we had an actual, honest conversation." She rolled her eyes slightly and sat down in front of her parents' graves. There were fresh flowers there. "Sometimes I think I've been waiting for us to have another all this time." She patted the ground with a sigh. "You might as well sit down." 

"Are you sure..." 

"Clark, I'm kind of tired of being angry. Anyway, what better place to bury the hatchet than a grave yard?" 

"I didn't think you still did this," he said, carefully taking a seat next to her, remembering that strange, pretty girl who hung around graveyards talking to the dead. 

"I didn't for a while. I came here all my life and then... I don't know. When the truth came out about Henry Small, I felt like these people were strangers." She nodded to the graves. "He wasn't my real father and she... she kept a pretty big secret. Then I think maybe they didn't know."

"Either way, they loved you." 

She nodded. "For as long as they could." She shrugged. "I guess I've been talking to them again because... I'm kind of wondering how I got here. I don't feel like the same person I was. I'm not even who I thought I'd be." 

"Who did you think you'd be?" 

She huffed out a laugh. "Is it sad that I don't even know?" She shrugged. "I just keep thinking of my mother's graduation speech, the one Chloe found for me, and how she said she was never able to make a difference in this town, but maybe her children could. I feel like that's about the only thing that ever stayed clearly with me. And I guess the town has changed, but not for the better. And no thanks to me." 

Clark turned to her. "I don't think that's true. Look what you did with The Talon." 

"What? Sold coffee?" 

"Well, you started a successful business and preserved a valuable piece of town history," he said quietly. "That's important. And the coffee." He smiled. "Trust me, it's more important than you think to... some people." 

She almost smiled. "People named Chloe, I guess. She would know." 

He dropped his smile. "Lana..." 

"Don't apologize. I can tell from the miserable way you two look at me that you're sorry and... I don't know. Maybe you don't need to be. You can't change how you feel." 

"Well, we could have changed how you..." 

"Why bother? It happened. Besides, every time I try to stay angry lately, I think about how I broke up with Whitney by video." 

Clark blinked at her. "You did?" 

"While he was at war," she groaned, throwing her head back. "I don't think he actually received it, thank God. Anyway, break ups... I think I might take the prize for worst ever, so maybe I had that coming." 

"No one has that coming. I really didn't want it to be that way." 

"I know." She shrugged. "But I think I'm okay." She did laugh, then. "What is it about almost dying that makes everything okay?" 

"So you knew about the..." 

"The missile? Yeah. It's not in the paper or anything yet, but word's going around. I even heard a rumor you were shot." She turned fully to him. "Though you don't look it." 

He moving slightly away. "That was probably exaggerated. I'm basically fine," he said quickly. "You know, Chloe actually knows more about everything than I do." 

"You two," she sighed, "right in the middle of things like usual. I'll have to have a talk with Chloe." 

Her expression was rather blank and he couldn't figure out if her talking to Chloe was a threat or a promise when she laughed. 

"I mean, it's probably about time the silent treatment ended. We've all been friends too long to stop now. If she could handle the two of us, then I owe her this. Maybe a cup of coffee, too." 

He relaxed and smiled. "Well, she'd like that. Especially the coffee. You might like to hear her thoughts on The Beanery's house blend." 

She smiled back. "Mine's better?" 

"By a mile." 

She dropped her smile and peered closely at him. "Just thinking of that first night. Maybe I should have known then." 

"Known what?" 

"When we were dating, then not, then dating, then... I think I felt a lot, maybe too much, but I feel like I was never... happy or content or all those things I think you're supposed to be. It's like I wanted you, but even when I had you, it wasn't what I thought it would be." 

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He felt it might be rude to agree. "Maybe," he began after a while, "we had to try before we finally figured it out." 

"What's that?" 

"That we should have been friends." 

She chuckled. "Yeah. We never got around to that." 

"I'm willing to try if you are." He stood and held out a hand. 

She took it and pulled herself up. "You know what? I think this might be the second actual conversation we've ever had." She brushed herself off with a smile. "Only took four years." 

"We should do it again," he said, echoing her words that first night, seeing flashes of that morbid, but strangely cheerful, girl again. He'd kind of like being friends with that girl. 

She squeezed his hand, then let go. "Good night, Clark." 

He thought he should offer to walk her home, but it wasn't as if she lived next door anymore. Besides, for the first time in a long time, he and Lana had left each other smiling. He didn't want to ruin that. He couldn't wait to tell Chloe... 

Chloe. 

He groaned and turned home. He'd run away from her... Well, not from her. God knew, there was no one else he wanted to see at the end of a day like this. But what now? 

He supposed they'd figure it out tomorrow. That's what they did, after all. Considering the little blow-up yesterday, he wasn't about to keep her in the dark. But they couldn't go on like they had and she deserved to know why. 

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

Chloe waited in the dark. She'd long since left Clark's cell phone with his mother when he was -- surprise, surprise -- suddenly nowhere to be found. Martha had seemed rather conflicted and asked if she wanted to wait because Clark... "Well, it's not my place to..." 

"Oh, no. It's fine. I'll catch up with him later," Chloe said, smiling, not wanting to stare at Martha across a table while Martha tried to figure out if she should tell Chloe what Chloe pretty much already knew. It was Clark's place to do it, but Clark had decided not to be anywhere she was. Well, not for long. This was later and it was late enough. The last she saw of him was him bleeding in the middle of the road and she would damned well see him in one piece before she... Well, she didn't know what. It wasn't as if she could give him a well-deserved slap upside the head now that Clark's Secret 2.0 was in effect. But she knew she had to see him. What came after, she didn't know. 

So she parked on the edge of the fields, made her way into the darkened loft, sat and folded her hands on his desk, and she waited. To her actual surprise, she didn't wait long. It seemed almost unfair. She'd hoped to be angrier. 

"When Kansas didn't merge with Oklahoma today, I kinda guessed you were involved," she said, savoring his little jump as she flicked on his desk lamp. "But I pretty much had to rely on guesswork without you bothering to see me." 

"I was going to..." 

She pushed back his chair and stood. "I heard you gave your statement to the police. I also heard the bullet only grazed you and you didn't require medical attention." 

"Chloe, I wanted to..." 

"Which is kind of crazy," she went on, "considering what I saw." 

"I know you..." 

"And launched nuclear missiles don't just go out like a candle, either," she said harshly, trying to force that anger to return. "I really hope," she found her voice breaking and she started again. "I really hope you weren't off thinking up some reasonable explanation to tell me, taking away everything..." 

"No," he breathed, rushing to her, at her side in less than a second and pulling her in. "God, no. Chloe, I wouldn't do that. Not now." 

"Good. Because..." She stopped, sobbing into his shirt, overwhelmed by the feel of him and the fact that he was alive and that they weren't going back to that stand-off where neither of them said what they meant. Not after everything. "Because that would be stupid," she finished, taking several deep breaths as she'd spent enough time crying today. "Because I'm not an idiot. You went and got your powers back," she said, pulling back on a sniffle. "How?" 

He wiped lightly beneath her eyes with his thumbs. "I didn't have a choice. It just kind of happened." She let him pull her to the couch, listened to him with wide-eyes as he explained the key and Lionel and Jor-El and the bomb. 

"You flew?" she asked on a whisper. 

"I jumped," he said hastily. "It was horrible... and... kind of awesome. But I just jumped. I don't think flying's a thing I do. I mean, if I'm too dense for bullets and all, then how could I be light enough to..." 

"Well. yeah. But they say it's aerodynamically impossible for bumblebees to fly." 

"That's folklore." 

"So were werewolves and aliens and... the Loch Ness monster. But look at all the..." She shook her head as this was kind of irrelevant now. "Fine. For now, you jumped and you fell." She drew back. "So... Did you land in a big pile of meteor rocks after that?" 

"Well, a desert, but there were no..." 

"So nothing prevented you from actually seeing me?" 

"Chloe, it wasn't like that." 

"Listen, I know the authorities showed up, but I waited at home for hours, Clark, waited for you to show up." 

"I figured you knew I was alive. I saw you down there and..." 

"You saw me down there with three dead bodies. Do you think that's a normal day for me?" And, she hated it, but damned if she wasn't crying again. 

"Jesus, Chloe." He pulled her in again. And she let him. "I'm so sorry. I think I just... I mean, it's you and you're always so strong." 

"This from the guy who can bend metal..." 

"No." He pulled back. "I mean it. You're strong in your way and sometimes I think it's... a better way. You know what we went through out there." He jerked his head to the side, which was actually to the east, not the north, but she didn't correct him. "I know most of us surviving was you." 

Now, that wasn't true. "Clark, you were always right there when I..." 

"Chloe, you haven't seen me without you. Not really. I panic and I run away and I... You don't know how many years I've spent afraid of myself, afraid of my own body. I never saw it as a gift until you." 

"Clark," she sighed, sliding her hand to his cheek. "Being normal is highly overrated. And besides, it makes my whole sidekick role easier if you can bring super duper strength to the table. I mean, not that we didn't make a great team out there today," she tried for a smile, "minus the whole part where I was kidnapped and you were shot." She pulled away and tugged at his flannel. "So, are you healing or how does that work, exactly?" 

Hi sighed and lifted up his shirt, revealing a remarkably clean bandage, then peeling it away. There was nothing. Not even a scrape. 

"Wow," she breathed, touching the spot. 

"My mom figured I should wear the bandage for a week or so in case..." He swallowed. "Chloe..." 

"Huh?" She realized she was still touching him, stroking. She almost pulled away, then... Why do that? She slid her hand around to his back, leaning in. 

Then he pulled away, standing and pulling his shirt down hastily. "Chloe, we need to talk. About us. We can't..." 

Oh, no. "No," she said, standing as well. "Clark, I'm not about to talk about us if this is the conversation." 

He turned to her, shaking his head. "Things have changed now." 

"Yes, they have," she said, moving to him. "And for the better. Remember all those worries about stopping the next major town disaster? Now fifty percent easier. And all that moaning we did about how we'll never get to see each other? Now that's all..." 

"It's not that simple." He moved to the wide window. 

"Yes, it is, Clark. If you love someone, you are either with them or you're not." 

He turned to her. "Love?" 

She found herself flushing. They hadn't said that word. But it was there all the time -- for her at least. Damn it, it was there for him, too. It had to be. Still. she shrugged just a little, tried to smile. "I just might have some feelings for you." 

His mouth quirked up just slightly and he stepped toward her. "Chloe, I..." He stopped suddenly, then looked down. "I care about you. Which is exactly why we can't go on like this. You have to see that." 

"No, I don't. I don't see anything close to that." 

"Some things might be easier with powers," he said slowly, "but they're also more dangerous and full of secrets and hiding and you might be better off..." 

"Clark, I'm not some delicate little flower that you need to protect. I have been here through everything. When I knew and when I didn't, I have been by your damned side. So you owe me more than some vague BS about how I'm better off without you. Because, for your information, I'm not. I never am." 

He just stared at her. 

"Okay. Fine," she said after a moment. "Since you gave me some time, maybe I'll return the favor. You can have thirty days to figure out..." 

"Chloe..." 

"...if you want to be with me or not." 

"It's not that I don't want..." 

"Then be with me, Clark," she broke in, moving to him, grasping his arms. "I want to be with you and I don't care how hard it is because it's harder not to be." 

His eyes softened. "I do want to be with you," he whispered, bending to lean his forehead against hers. "But there's one thing you don't know."

"Then tell me. Whatever it is, we'll get through it." She leaned up, pressing her lips lightly to his. 

He let out a slight groan, drawing away. "It's about that and... things relating to that." He took a deep breath and took her hands, stepping back as he released her. "Chloe, we can't... be together in the... that kind of way anymore." 

Her eyes widened. "What?" She found her eyes drifting down. "Is there some kind of... anatomical difference that..." 

"No." He pulled his shirt down. "God, no! Nothing like that. It's just..." He paused, his mouth working soundlessly for a moment. "It's just that, with my powers, it's... I'm kind of afraid of what I might do in the... There are certain powers that tend to... go off in situations like..." 

"Oh," she breathed. "You know, I... I actually think I might have witnessed one of those during your little bout with amnesia," she said, remembering the Talon and the lampshade that pretty much burst into flames when he spied Lana. She shook her head. "Does that happen every time you feel a little..." 

"No, but..." He moved away. "It took a while for it not to. I had to learn to control it." 

She threw up her hands. "So what's the problem? If you learned to..." 

"Well, it's hard," he groaned, sitting on the couch. 

She tried not to giggle at his choice of words as he seemed horribly embarrassed. But it was all pretty funny, if you thought about it. Protection from sex might mean flame-retardant clothing if all men were like Clark.

"It's not easy adjusting my powers to... new situations," he went on, staring at the floor. 

"But not impossible," she had to point out, trying to take this as seriously as he was.

He looked up, rolling his eyes. "Still want to be with me?" 

"Clark, of course I do." 

He smiled. "Okay, then. Just... We can be together without... that." 

"Uh..." 

"I mean, you understand how it is and we can just... I mean, there's more to life, right?" 

"Clark..." 

He stood and nodded to himself. "You know, I've gone without sex before and... I think this is very doable. We just do other things, like talk and..." 

"I'm gonna have to stop you there," Chloe broke in. "You honestly think that we're realistically going to be able to go from having sex to... never having sex again?" 

"It could work," he tried. 

"I seriously doubt that." 

He pursed his lips. "Okay. Maybe not never again. Just a... year or..." 

"Or," she cut in, "we work on it." 

"But..." 

"You can shake my hand without crushing it, right? And you don't exactly incinerate everyone you look at with your heat-vision thing." 

"Well, no, but... Chloe, all that took a lot of work." 

"Well, I'm a hard worker." She smiled. "Especially with good motivation." She moved toward him. 

He backed away. "Chloe..." 

"And I kinda think you're making this a way bigger deal than it is." 

He reached the railing and stopped. "We don't know if..." 

"Exactly. We don't know." She stopped in front of him, running a hand up his chest. "Not till we try." 

"Well, I..." 

She gripped his lapels and pulled. meeting his lips. He grumbled a little, but it only took a few nips for him to stop. That and join in with enthusiasm, running his hands down her back and gripping her, lifting her. 

She smiled against his lips. "You're learning already," she whispered, holding him tighter. 

He only groaned and moved forward, walking the both of them to the couch. She felt a little thrill go through her at how little effort he seemed to be making. It made her feel weightless, even though she had managed to get back that damned ten pounds she'd finally shook off in the Arctic. 

Still, Clark didn't seem to have a problem with that from the way his hands ran all over her. 

"God, Clark," she breathed as she landed on top of him. She really needed this, today especially. Near-death seemed to be one of her major turn-ons. 

"Chloe..." He didn't sound any less affected. 

She moved down to his neck, humming lightly as his hands gripped her harder. 

"Chloe..." 

She licked him there, moving her hands between them to work at his buttons. "Clark." 

"No... Chloe..." 

She stilled, suddenly realizing he wasn't gripping her in abject lust, he was actually trying to gently push her off him. "What's..." 

He quickly pushed her away... and right to the floor. 

She sat up and stared at Clark, who was breathing heavily and looking absolutely horrified. She was ready to tell him she wasn't hurt when she saw he was staring at the wall... which was on fire. He seemed frozen, so she moved quickly, grabbing a cushion and rushing to the flaming spot, hitting at it over and over until only smoke and that bonfire smell was left. "Okay," she panted, tossing the cushion to the floor before turning to him. "So we'll work on that." 

He groaned and covered his eyes, sinking back to the couch. "I'm such a..." 

"Hey, it was our first try." She moved to the couch and sat lightly next to him. "I personally think that went well." 

He uncovered one eye. "In what universe did that go well?" 

"Not a mark on me," she said, smiling and wishing he would, too. 

"But what if..." 

"What if nothing. I'm fine. You're fine. We live to try again... except maybe tomorrow. And maybe... somewhere not flammable." 

He sat up. "Chloe, don't joke," he said miserably. 

"Clark, don't mope," she said, mirroring his tone. 

"I'm serious." 

"So am I. I told you I never wanted to be something you moped about and I meant it. This is doable." 

"It's also dangerous." 

"Well, you know my thing for intrigue?" She leaned in and pecked his lips. "Nothing compared to my thing for danger." 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER
EPILOGUE

I really wanted to have Clana have a mature talk before the end, so did that.  Just thinking back to the pilot, I really liked Lana. She was a weirdo, but in a sort of interesting way. Somehow, I feel her development got botched along the way and, I think, if they'd kept that cheerfully morbid girl talking to graves from the pilot, I might have had different feelings toward her. Then they damseled her up into a generic unattainable love interest. No wonder KK was having no fun by the end. Every time Lana was interesting or complex, they backed off and damseled her up again. I hear tell KK detests pink to this day, which only makes me love her more.  

Anyway, just an epilogue to come.