Smallville Big Bang 2012
Human Nature
Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2.
Clark stretched and lifted his head from the pillow as he came too. The curtains in his room had been pulled open and bunched up as they fell, draped either side of the window and tied neatly with ribbon. The early morning rays filtered in through the pane of glass that scattered the light like a kaleidoscope of luminous brilliance. Yellow sun, just what he needed to heal.
“Honey, you’re awake. You had us worried, Chloe was frantic.”
“Mom?” He blinked to clear his vision. “Where’s Chloe?”
Martha stood in the doorway to her son’s room holding a tray laden with breakfast goods, bacon and eggs, sunny side up, syrup and pancakes, blueberry, freshly picked from the thickets that bordered the back acre of the farm. Orange juice, freshly squeezed he’d wager, coffee and cream, his mothers cure all.
“She’s sleeping on the couch downstairs; she’s been up all night trying to find out what’s wrong with you. Poor thing fell asleep at the computer; it can’t have been terribly comfortable for her. Your father moved her to the couch.”
Clark pulled the thin linen away from his body and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“Mom,” Clark shrieked indignantly. His shorts barely covered his modesty. “What if Chloe had seen me like this? What if she’d seen me without any clothes on?”
Martha knew her son was clueless.
“Sweetheart, you had a fever, we had to get your temperature down and that meant we had to take off the rest of your clothes. Chloe was so worried about you that she didn’t even blush.”
Clark rolled his eyes and tried to stand. He rocked back and forth on his feet, once, twice, three times before his body became heavy and his knees began to buckle beneath the force of his weight.
“Come on,” Martha motioned for Clark to climb back into bed and ushered her son beneath the starchy white sheet. She placed the serving tray across his lap whilst Clark made himself comfortable, then stood back and smiled as she watched him pierce the glossy egg yolks with his fork.
“I’ll go and wake Chloe,” she promised, stepping back towards the door. “I’m sure she could do with the coffee.”
Clark gripped a crispy rasher of organic bacon between his thumb and his finger and studied it carefully. He’d been made redundant, his heat vision rendered useless. He shuddered, and tried not to dwell on the fact that the gas bill would rise and the farm would be at risk again.
“That bacon is not going to eat itself you know.” Chloe’s voice filtered in through his now-human auditory senses.
“I’m not very hungry,” Clark frowned and tossed the streaky bacon back onto the plate.
“More for me,” Chloe shrugged and eased herself onto the bed next to Clark. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs tightly. Clark noticed her tired eyes; she looked like the weight of the world rested solely upon her fragile shoulders. He chastised himself and was grateful for the fact that he still had the ability to feel guilty for his actions.
“So I did some research last night,” Chloe spoke as she reached over the tray on Clark’s lap to proffer the large mug of coffee set to his right. “We spent the day out at the lake yesterday, I figured that was the best place to start,” she said through her mouthful.
‘You know how to get my powers back?” Clark’s ears perked up and he pushed the tray aside much to Chloe’s dismay.
“I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before, Clark. Sean Kelvin, he fell into the lake and the Kryptonite messed with his body. Clark, he gained meta-human powers after being exposed to the meteor rock. We know it works differently for you. What if the Kryptonite in the lake is what has made you sick?”
Clark furrowed his brow, deep in thought.
“Do you really think it could have stripped me of my powers, Chloe?”
Chloe set the mug upon the night stand and folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. She had seen the agony etched into his features before, the nausea, the dizziness and … the pain. He’d been vulnerable. For as long as she had known him, Clark had never been vulnerable. It couldn’t just be a coincidence.
“Clark,” she turned to face him, “The last time you came into contact with Kryptonite it almost killed you. Do you really want to take that chance again? Because I think that kinda speaks for itself, don’t you?”
“I sure as hell don’t have the energy to argue with you,” Clark smirked and elbowed Chloe in the side.
Chloe ignored the comment and turned her attention back to the aroma of the hot, sweet coffee enticing her taste buds. She startled when she felt Clark’s hand on her shoulder, she didn’t fight him when he turned her to face him and cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“I know I haven’t said it yet, but I’m glad that you were here yesterday. I might have died without you, Chlo. Thank you for taking care of me.”
His eyes shone with sincerity, and Chloe forced herself to swallow the lump amassed in her throat. She was tottering right in front of his face, the mask of fear obliterated by the depths of his bright eyes. If she tipped her head to the side a little more, if he’d just lower his face and push his lips against her own …
Chloe gasped as Clark’s tongue swept across her bottom lip. His breath was warm and his mouth tasted of salt and he cradled her face in the palm of his hands as he pressed his lips to hers.
As soon as it came, it was gone. Chloe tore herself from the kiss and drew the cuff of her sleeve across her mouth in disbelief. With wide eyes, she stood and took a step away from the bed, her hands held out in front of her, a warning.
“You … you’re just feeling lousy, Clark. So we’ll just forget that ever happened.” She backed away further.
“Chloe,” Clark tried to move from the bed, tried to ease her agitation, but the overwhelming burden of misfortune was brewing in his belly.
“No, Clark. It’s okay. It was a mistake, I get it. I’m just going to print off that information I forget about last night.”
Chloe gripped the door handle and did not hesitate to flee the room, pulling the door closed behind her. The last thing that went through Clark’s mind was the glimpse of her retreating form. He groaned, threw his face into his hands and shook his head. He’d lost her trust.
“Shit,” He mumbled beneath his breath.
“Clark? Clark? What happened?” His mother’s voice came through the door before the handle turned and she entered the room.
“Hi, Mom,” he sat back against the headboard and looked at his mother.
“Oh, Clark,” Martha spoke quietly, the grown boy in the bed looking more like the frightened child they had found so many years ago, a mere boy, so lost and far away from home.
“Is she okay?” He asked reluctantly. “Is Chloe okay, Mom?”
Martha smiled and smoothed her hand over the folded comforter at the end of the bed.
“She’s gone out for some fresh air. She’ll be back soon. I told your father to keep an eye on her.”
“It was stupid, Mom. I was so stupid.” He diverted his gaze to his hands and watched as they trembled, his fingers curled into fists. His knuckles ached, but he ignored the pain. It was insignificant, so long as Chloe was hurting.
“Clark, Chloe is a smart girl. She’ll be back soon. You know she can’t stay away for long. She was so scared for you last night. When your father and I came home and heard her sobbing … Clark,” His mother looked at her son, all pretenses gone, only honesty laced her words, “Chloe is loyal; she refused to leave your side. It took a good pot of coffee and a fairly creative speech on your father’s part before she would even think about leaving, and when she did, she went to the computer to look for answers.”
Martha paused to draw breath before she continued. “She’s an ally that you need, Clark, but Chloe is so much more than that. You can’t hurt her. ”
“I think I wanted to kiss her,” Clark blushed under the scrutiny.
Martha placed her hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. “Honey, don’t confuse gratitude with something else. It wouldn’t be fair to Chloe.”
The realization swung at Clark like a heavy lumber. He felt like retching, but he couldn’t. His body was rigid, stiff, like he’d stepped out of his life and into another. His head ached and he winced, his body unaccustomed to the pain. He wasn’t certain he could get out of this entirely unscathed, but he knew that he couldn’t hurt Chloe.
“Mum, I think I need to lay down for a while. Do you think you could pull the curtains across for me, please?”
“Clark?”
“The light. It hurts,” he spoke quietly. “It’s too bright.”
Clark buried his head beneath the pillow and groaned; Martha hurried to close the curtains but stopped at the window sill, the sight on the ground from the top story catching her eye.
Her husband leaned heavily upon his garden hoe as he listened to Chloe bare her soul. Chloe’s fists flailed and her head turned from side to side as she seemed to argue the point with Clark’s father. The anguish of her spirit broke Martha’s heart. She knew the truth, the whole truth, through the blood, the sweat and the tears. The old adage - Men are from Mars really did apply to Clark in this instance
“Mom?” Clark wondered what was taking her so long.
Martha watched as Chloe fell into Jonathans embrace and buried her head in his chest. He turned his face up to the window and gave his wife a curt nod. Chloe would be okay.
“I’m coming, Clark. Just let me get this knot undone.”
Clark was oblivious to the fact that his mother was stalling, hoping to buy herself some more time at the window. She did not dare move until Chloe collected herself and Jonathan marched her back in the direction of the front porch.
Martha exhaled and turned to Clark, the hint of a smile at the edge of her features.
“It’s a shame you don’t have your powers, Honey. That was one heck of a knot. I had a hard time getting it to come loose.”
Martha was met with silence, and then a slow, steady wheeze that built to a crescendo. Clark was snoring, his weary body having found rest upon his pillow. His dark curls veiled his forehead and his chest rose and fell in time with his breath.
Martha relished the opportunity to mother her boy. For so long the shoe had been on the other foot, Clark had done so much for them and she felt as though this little interlude was barely scratching the surface of her gratitude.
A warm hand on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned to see her husband looking at Clark with a solemn expression.
“How is he?” The concerned father asked after his ailing son.
“He’s sleeping,” Martha told her husband. There was little more by way of explanation. Clark’s physiology was a mystery. The best they could do for him now was to hope … and pray.
Jonathan leaned forward and placed his lips against his wife’s temple.
“Chloe is in the kitchen,” he murmured as not to disturb Clark. “I left her there, with coffee and pie. She really loves our boy,” he continued. “Do you think Clark has a clue?”
Martha dropped her head back onto her husband’s shoulder and answered simply -
“Yes.”
Chapter 3
Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2.
Clark stretched and lifted his head from the pillow as he came too. The curtains in his room had been pulled open and bunched up as they fell, draped either side of the window and tied neatly with ribbon. The early morning rays filtered in through the pane of glass that scattered the light like a kaleidoscope of luminous brilliance. Yellow sun, just what he needed to heal.
“Honey, you’re awake. You had us worried, Chloe was frantic.”
“Mom?” He blinked to clear his vision. “Where’s Chloe?”
Martha stood in the doorway to her son’s room holding a tray laden with breakfast goods, bacon and eggs, sunny side up, syrup and pancakes, blueberry, freshly picked from the thickets that bordered the back acre of the farm. Orange juice, freshly squeezed he’d wager, coffee and cream, his mothers cure all.
“She’s sleeping on the couch downstairs; she’s been up all night trying to find out what’s wrong with you. Poor thing fell asleep at the computer; it can’t have been terribly comfortable for her. Your father moved her to the couch.”
Clark pulled the thin linen away from his body and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“Mom,” Clark shrieked indignantly. His shorts barely covered his modesty. “What if Chloe had seen me like this? What if she’d seen me without any clothes on?”
Martha knew her son was clueless.
“Sweetheart, you had a fever, we had to get your temperature down and that meant we had to take off the rest of your clothes. Chloe was so worried about you that she didn’t even blush.”
Clark rolled his eyes and tried to stand. He rocked back and forth on his feet, once, twice, three times before his body became heavy and his knees began to buckle beneath the force of his weight.
“Come on,” Martha motioned for Clark to climb back into bed and ushered her son beneath the starchy white sheet. She placed the serving tray across his lap whilst Clark made himself comfortable, then stood back and smiled as she watched him pierce the glossy egg yolks with his fork.
“I’ll go and wake Chloe,” she promised, stepping back towards the door. “I’m sure she could do with the coffee.”
Clark gripped a crispy rasher of organic bacon between his thumb and his finger and studied it carefully. He’d been made redundant, his heat vision rendered useless. He shuddered, and tried not to dwell on the fact that the gas bill would rise and the farm would be at risk again.
“That bacon is not going to eat itself you know.” Chloe’s voice filtered in through his now-human auditory senses.
“I’m not very hungry,” Clark frowned and tossed the streaky bacon back onto the plate.
“More for me,” Chloe shrugged and eased herself onto the bed next to Clark. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs tightly. Clark noticed her tired eyes; she looked like the weight of the world rested solely upon her fragile shoulders. He chastised himself and was grateful for the fact that he still had the ability to feel guilty for his actions.
“So I did some research last night,” Chloe spoke as she reached over the tray on Clark’s lap to proffer the large mug of coffee set to his right. “We spent the day out at the lake yesterday, I figured that was the best place to start,” she said through her mouthful.
‘You know how to get my powers back?” Clark’s ears perked up and he pushed the tray aside much to Chloe’s dismay.
“I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before, Clark. Sean Kelvin, he fell into the lake and the Kryptonite messed with his body. Clark, he gained meta-human powers after being exposed to the meteor rock. We know it works differently for you. What if the Kryptonite in the lake is what has made you sick?”
Clark furrowed his brow, deep in thought.
“Do you really think it could have stripped me of my powers, Chloe?”
Chloe set the mug upon the night stand and folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. She had seen the agony etched into his features before, the nausea, the dizziness and … the pain. He’d been vulnerable. For as long as she had known him, Clark had never been vulnerable. It couldn’t just be a coincidence.
“Clark,” she turned to face him, “The last time you came into contact with Kryptonite it almost killed you. Do you really want to take that chance again? Because I think that kinda speaks for itself, don’t you?”
“I sure as hell don’t have the energy to argue with you,” Clark smirked and elbowed Chloe in the side.
Chloe ignored the comment and turned her attention back to the aroma of the hot, sweet coffee enticing her taste buds. She startled when she felt Clark’s hand on her shoulder, she didn’t fight him when he turned her to face him and cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“I know I haven’t said it yet, but I’m glad that you were here yesterday. I might have died without you, Chlo. Thank you for taking care of me.”
His eyes shone with sincerity, and Chloe forced herself to swallow the lump amassed in her throat. She was tottering right in front of his face, the mask of fear obliterated by the depths of his bright eyes. If she tipped her head to the side a little more, if he’d just lower his face and push his lips against her own …
Chloe gasped as Clark’s tongue swept across her bottom lip. His breath was warm and his mouth tasted of salt and he cradled her face in the palm of his hands as he pressed his lips to hers.
As soon as it came, it was gone. Chloe tore herself from the kiss and drew the cuff of her sleeve across her mouth in disbelief. With wide eyes, she stood and took a step away from the bed, her hands held out in front of her, a warning.
“You … you’re just feeling lousy, Clark. So we’ll just forget that ever happened.” She backed away further.
“Chloe,” Clark tried to move from the bed, tried to ease her agitation, but the overwhelming burden of misfortune was brewing in his belly.
“No, Clark. It’s okay. It was a mistake, I get it. I’m just going to print off that information I forget about last night.”
Chloe gripped the door handle and did not hesitate to flee the room, pulling the door closed behind her. The last thing that went through Clark’s mind was the glimpse of her retreating form. He groaned, threw his face into his hands and shook his head. He’d lost her trust.
“Shit,” He mumbled beneath his breath.
“Clark? Clark? What happened?” His mother’s voice came through the door before the handle turned and she entered the room.
“Hi, Mom,” he sat back against the headboard and looked at his mother.
“Oh, Clark,” Martha spoke quietly, the grown boy in the bed looking more like the frightened child they had found so many years ago, a mere boy, so lost and far away from home.
“Is she okay?” He asked reluctantly. “Is Chloe okay, Mom?”
Martha smiled and smoothed her hand over the folded comforter at the end of the bed.
“She’s gone out for some fresh air. She’ll be back soon. I told your father to keep an eye on her.”
“It was stupid, Mom. I was so stupid.” He diverted his gaze to his hands and watched as they trembled, his fingers curled into fists. His knuckles ached, but he ignored the pain. It was insignificant, so long as Chloe was hurting.
“Clark, Chloe is a smart girl. She’ll be back soon. You know she can’t stay away for long. She was so scared for you last night. When your father and I came home and heard her sobbing … Clark,” His mother looked at her son, all pretenses gone, only honesty laced her words, “Chloe is loyal; she refused to leave your side. It took a good pot of coffee and a fairly creative speech on your father’s part before she would even think about leaving, and when she did, she went to the computer to look for answers.”
Martha paused to draw breath before she continued. “She’s an ally that you need, Clark, but Chloe is so much more than that. You can’t hurt her. ”
“I think I wanted to kiss her,” Clark blushed under the scrutiny.
Martha placed her hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. “Honey, don’t confuse gratitude with something else. It wouldn’t be fair to Chloe.”
The realization swung at Clark like a heavy lumber. He felt like retching, but he couldn’t. His body was rigid, stiff, like he’d stepped out of his life and into another. His head ached and he winced, his body unaccustomed to the pain. He wasn’t certain he could get out of this entirely unscathed, but he knew that he couldn’t hurt Chloe.
“Mum, I think I need to lay down for a while. Do you think you could pull the curtains across for me, please?”
“Clark?”
“The light. It hurts,” he spoke quietly. “It’s too bright.”
Clark buried his head beneath the pillow and groaned; Martha hurried to close the curtains but stopped at the window sill, the sight on the ground from the top story catching her eye.
Her husband leaned heavily upon his garden hoe as he listened to Chloe bare her soul. Chloe’s fists flailed and her head turned from side to side as she seemed to argue the point with Clark’s father. The anguish of her spirit broke Martha’s heart. She knew the truth, the whole truth, through the blood, the sweat and the tears. The old adage - Men are from Mars really did apply to Clark in this instance
“Mom?” Clark wondered what was taking her so long.
Martha watched as Chloe fell into Jonathans embrace and buried her head in his chest. He turned his face up to the window and gave his wife a curt nod. Chloe would be okay.
“I’m coming, Clark. Just let me get this knot undone.”
Clark was oblivious to the fact that his mother was stalling, hoping to buy herself some more time at the window. She did not dare move until Chloe collected herself and Jonathan marched her back in the direction of the front porch.
Martha exhaled and turned to Clark, the hint of a smile at the edge of her features.
“It’s a shame you don’t have your powers, Honey. That was one heck of a knot. I had a hard time getting it to come loose.”
Martha was met with silence, and then a slow, steady wheeze that built to a crescendo. Clark was snoring, his weary body having found rest upon his pillow. His dark curls veiled his forehead and his chest rose and fell in time with his breath.
Martha relished the opportunity to mother her boy. For so long the shoe had been on the other foot, Clark had done so much for them and she felt as though this little interlude was barely scratching the surface of her gratitude.
A warm hand on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned to see her husband looking at Clark with a solemn expression.
“How is he?” The concerned father asked after his ailing son.
“He’s sleeping,” Martha told her husband. There was little more by way of explanation. Clark’s physiology was a mystery. The best they could do for him now was to hope … and pray.
Jonathan leaned forward and placed his lips against his wife’s temple.
“Chloe is in the kitchen,” he murmured as not to disturb Clark. “I left her there, with coffee and pie. She really loves our boy,” he continued. “Do you think Clark has a clue?”
Martha dropped her head back onto her husband’s shoulder and answered simply -
“Yes.”
Chapter 3