For rathmaria: Glass Houses, Chapter 1
Prompt: (by Rathmaria) - Kal did something other than kick Chloe out during Exile, preferably smutty.
Rating: Mature
Words: 9837
Chapters: 4
Author’s note: I find Clark in the period between season two and three fascinating. It’s the only time he is ever exposed to red Kryptonite or any Kryptonite for a prolonged period of time. Three months. And for those three months, Clark let go of his inhibitions, he ignores the law, and the need for secrets. He goes where he wants, when he wants. He reinvents himself.
I don’t see how that wouldn’t change how he thought and behaved even once the ring was off. At the same time, he’s had three months to learn how to manage his emotions and impulses while wearing the ring. In short, I believe that during this period of time, the Clark on redK probably blurred with the Clark off redK. That’s the Clark I’ve written in this story.
Glass Houses
Chapter 1
"Clark you were not forced into exile. You ran away from your problems. You are not being noble, you are being a coward!"
Stark truth shredded the red K's cloak of indifference. Damn Chloe for always seeing what no one else saw. The thick scar Jor-El branded across his chest burned in agony, a physical pain to match his emotions. Why hadn’t he run months ago when she'd first found him? Why hadn't he severed that final connection to who he'd been? He clutched at his chest, barely able to breathe through the fire consuming him from the inside out. He needed to get the ring off, but he couldn't let her see him like this.
"Chloe get out!" He roared, clutching her by the shoulders and dragging her backwards toward the apartment's open door. "You tell anyone where I am, I'll go so far from Metropolis no one will ever find me!"
She pushed him away.
"I don't even know who you are anymore," she spat, her disgust as white hot as the heat searing his chest.
"Get out!" He shouted again, looming over her. He needed her gone right now; he couldn't hide what was happening one second longer. Indecision played over her face, but she turned and fled. He barely held off long enough to watch her stride in the direction of the stairs across the open air walkway past the elevator before he shut the door and ripped open his shirt.
The scar was alive, pulsating with heat and glowing like a flame. The agony was too intense; he cried out and dropped to his knees in front of the window. The pain flowed in a line from his chest down his arm to the glowing red rock in his class ring. Feebly, he struggled to work the ring off his finger. Finally, he succeeded, but too weak to move, he stayed on his knees, panting and sweating. Suddenly, he was not alone.
"Oh Clark, why didn't you tell me!"
"Chloe?"
She shut the door, tossed her bag somewhere, and knelt in front him, stripping the class ring out of his fist before he could protest. He was vaguely aware of movement somewhere in his apartment and then her cool hands were back, a soothing balm against his fevered cheeks as she cupped his face and smoothed back his sweaty curls. He learned into her touch and did not resist when she guided his head to her shoulder. Peace, something he hadn't felt since Jor-El demanded he abandon everything he knew and loved, washed over him. He closed his eyes and rested there, too physically and emotionally exhausted to worry about what she'd seen. She smelled nice and felt even better. Her hands continued a flurry of exploration and a small whimper escaped her lips when her palms skimmed over his scarred chest.
"Who hurt you?" She demanded, her voice fierce even while thick with unshed tears.
A bleak laugh escaped him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"That's not true. I trust you Clark."
Shame and disbelief gave him the strength to pull away from her comfort. He got to his feet unsteadily.
"How?" He asked shaking his head. "After how I acted, how can you even stand to look at me?"
"I trust the real you," she said as she also stood up, "not the asshole who tried to intimidate me into leaving so you could suffer alone. Idiot," she said softly. "Even if I hadn't heard you cry out before I was ten feet away, half your apartment is a wall of windows."
Out of nowhere he had the urge to smile.
"I've missed you Chloe. I'm so sorry about...the asshole."
A brief smile curved her lips before she turned serious again.
"How much does he have to do with the red meteor rock?"
Clark shuttered his expression, but Chloe cut off his denials.
"I saw the ring glowing, Clark, among other things."
Her eyes swept briefly to his scar still visible between his open shirt. He quickly did up the snaps, not knowing how he would explain the thick ridge of scar tissue, but for now at least, Chloe was concentrating on the ring. The ring that she'd taken. The ring he needed to get back.
"Not our standard color meteor rock," she pointed out, "but I should have guessed your personality transplant was shades of Wall of Weird."
Guilt and shame hit him again.
"I wish it was that simple." Lately, he couldn't tell how much of his behavior was the rock and how much was just the freedom he gave himself to do whatever he wanted while wearing it. How could he tell her that? How could he explain any of it?
Every old habit told him to push Chloe away and keep her from the truth, but what did it matter anymore? He couldn't go home. He'd made too many mistakes and his parents paid the price.
He sunk wearily onto the couch and closed his eyes. He should find the ring and let the asshole send her home, but he couldn't bring himself to make her leave even though he knew Chloe wouldn't easily be put off from digging up the truth now. Did he even want to keep it from her? She'd kept his location secret all these months just because he asked her to. Maybe he didn't have to cut himself off from everything good in his life.
The scent of her body wash reached his nostrils just before he felt her perch next to him on the couch, something sweet and citrusy that made his mouth water. She angled his direction so their knees brushed. Awareness hit him with a familiar zing. His senses always came alive around Chloe.
"It's not the first time the red rock has affected you, is it." She stated rather than asked.
He looked over in surprise.
"When they first handed out the class rings," Chloe explained, "I remember you getting your swagger on. At the time, I was too busy tracking down the bait and switch with the fake rubies to make the connection, but what Lana told me later tracks with the cocky 'I don't give a damn' attitude that's been all over you these last times we met."
"I need the ring back Chloe."
Disappointment and confusion flashed in her eyes. She shook her head, making her dangling earrings sway and tousling her wave of short blond hair. He'd noticed her new edgier cut last time when she’d found him. Normally, he preferred something more traditional, but Chloe made it work. Same with the snug black skirt she wore with knee length boots, a graphic tee, and a short red jacket. She always caught his attention.
"But it was hurting you." Chloe insisted.
"It wasn't the ring."
"I know what I saw," she frowned defiantly, her hands fisting on her lap.
She was getting ready to dig in her heels. A wave of weariness washed over him. He didn't want to fight and even though he knew he should, he didn't want to send her away. Or watch her leave. She knew him too well to accept a lie, so he compromised with as much of the truth as he could.
"The ring isn't like that most of the time."
"But sometimes it is? You were in agony. Why would you ever take that risk again?"
He hunched forward, staring at the floor, and pressed his lips together in a thin line to bite back the truth. It's was easy to imagine blurting everything out. He wanted to explain; he wanted to unleash all the guilt he was holding inside. Physical pain, even on a level almost beyond his endurance was still easier than remembering what his selfish cowardice had taken from his parents. If he had obeyed Jor-El and left when he was told or at least not lied to his parents and gone behind their backs to destroy the ship, then they never would have been caught up in the explosion that took the baby. He'd taken everything from them and left them with nothing.
"You don't understand," he said, crushed by the weight of his misery.
She leaned closer to him and gently laid a hand on his knee. He knew she was only trying to offer comfort, but his awareness of her warmth and nearness jumped. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen her every day like he used to, but usually he had better control over his reaction to Chloe. They were friends.
Had he thought of her that way? With her smile and energy, he'd always felt a spark and time had added curves to Chloe that made his palms itch. From another planet or not, yeah, he'd thought of her that way, but after last year's Spring Formal, they'd decided - well Chloe had -they were better off as friends. This year he'd mucked up even that.
And there was Lana. He desperately tried to be the right kind of guy for her, but he’d only been fooling himself. And after spending so much of last year dreaming of being with Lana, shouldn't he miss her more?
She'd seen him today at Lex's funeral and all he'd wanted to do was run. She was too mixed up in the guilt. They'd barely gotten together and Jor-El demanded he leave. His fixation on Lana pushed him to act more reckless and for what? He could never tell her the truth about himself; she'd hate him.
Ok, maybe not hate him, but if Lana knew the truth, she'd never see him the same again. Even if she miraculously didn't blame him for her parents' death, he knew how uncomfortable people with powers made Lana.
But not Chloe. She judged people by their actions, not abilities. Shame returned. He'd treated her awful; she shouldn't even be speaking to him, let alone offering him comfort.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't understand," she conceded calmly. "I get that the ring changes how you feel and act somehow, what I don't get is why you want that or why you ever left."
It was too much. She was being too calm. Too understanding. She should be yelling at him. He jumped to his feet and started pacing his apartment.
"Because it's my fault! I screwed up everything. He warned me and I didn't listen and my mom paid the price. It's my fault she lost the baby. My father couldn't even look at me."
Chloe was quiet for a moment, absorbing what he said and then cocked her head to the side.
"Who warned you? From your tone, I'm pretty sure you're not referring to your dad."