Visiting Smallville: 15a/21
Nicodemus
“So, when are you painting each other’s nails?” Dean asked, frowning when he saw Chloe perched on the end of Sam’s bed in her pyjamas. “Or are you having a pillow fight today?”
“Aw.” Chloe said, turning away from Sam. “Do you want me to do your nails, Dean?”
Dean grimaced. “I’ll leave you girls alone.”
Grabbing his father’s journal, Dean strode out from the room. Chloe didn’t bother watching him leave, instead pulling herself further onto the bed and crossing her legs. She grinned at Sam.
Sam stared at her, wondering why she was sitting on the end of her bed. “Chloe?”
She glanced down. “So...” she said slowly. “I know I shouldn’t but...when you went to see Cassie, you were talking about Jess. Who was she?”
Sam’s eyes widened and he hunched over. “My girlfriend.” He whispered. “Look, Chloe, I don’t want to talk about it.”
She nodded. “I know...but...please?”
Sam shook his head, but Chloe reached over to his hand. “Look...Chloe...she was killed. By the same thing that killed my mother.” He said suddenly.
“Did she know...what you do?” she whispered, looking at Sam’s angst-ridden face. “Hunting?”
“No.” Sam said. “I wish she had.”
“What happened to her? How was she killed?” Sam said nothing, instead covering his face with his hands and leaning back into his bed. Chloe frowned, pushing forward even more. “Sammy?” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes squeezed shut. Chloe grimaced. “Recently, I can’t stop hurting people.” She muttered. “First, Clark, and you...”
With one final move forwards, she engulfed him in a tight hug, smiling when she felt him hug her back. She paused, waiting until Sam’s grip loosened before she pulled away.
She purposely ignored Sam’s red-rimmed eyes as she reached into the chest pocket of her pyjamas and pulled out a short note. She lay next to Sam, passing the paper to him.
He sniffed slightly. “Miss Sullivan.” He read. “Although I appreciate your work on the paper, I believe the Torch could be better if you made the articles more hip. Principal Kwan.”
She laughed weakly. “Make it more hip.” She repeated. “I think Kwan needs to get slightly more in touch with modern society.”
Sam chuckled quietly. “He wants you to make the Torch more hip. What’s cooler than meteor freaks?”
“You know Kwan hates me.” Chloe told him. “He wants me to make the Torch more about the students and less about real life.”
Sam nodded, rolling his eyes. “People like to believe there isn’t anything strange out there.”
Chloe nodded in agreement. “Well, what should I do?” she asked. “I suppose I should go along with it for now. What should I write about?”
Sam frowned, smiling down at Chloe and pulling her closer.
*
“What’s your deepest desire?” Chloe read from a clipboard, the title written in Sam’s writing. She glanced up at Clark and Pete with a grin. “I mean, if nothing was holding you back, what would you guys do?”
Clark’s eyes widened. “Hello, Chloe.” He greeted. “Nice to see you too.”
Chloe nodded, smiling. “Principal Kwan thinks that I need to get more in touch with the pulse of the student body. So I’ve decided to do a poll.” She told them, holding the clipboard out to them. “Now, if you would both please do your statistical duty.”
Pete grinned at her, looking around. A lecherous smirk spread across his face as a fellow freshman walked past them.
“I’d go and make out with that girl right now.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “You know, every answer I’ve gotten so far has been either sex or violence related.”
Pete smirked. “Well, that’s just human nature, Chloe. Later.”
He walked away from Chloe, leaving her alone with Clark. Clark grabbed her arm, turning her round to him. “Did you know that Pete doesn’t like Lex?” Clark asked.
Chloe looked at Clark, amazed. “Yeah, he’s totally jealous of your friendship with him.” Chloe told him. “He feels like you guys aren’t as close as you used to be.”
Clark frowned. “He feels the same about the Winchester’s.”
Chloe grimaced.
“Hey.”
They turned, seeing Lana standing near them. She smiled at the two of them, her gaze flickering to the metal clipboard. “Hi.” Chloe replied. “What about you, Lana?” she said, showing her the clipboard. “Got one?”
Lana frowned, reading the poll. “Whoever wrote that has really neat writing.” Lana said.
Chloe nodded, shooting Clark a confused glance. “That was Sam.” She told her. “And, Lana, deepest desire?”
“Um,” Lana looked at Clark nervously. “Well, I’d like to climb the windmill down on Chandler’s field.”
“Really?” Chloe asked, eyes wide. “That’s your deepest desire?”
“Somebody told me you could see the Metropolis skyline from there.” Lana told them, a longing gaze in her eyes. “I don’t have the guts to climb up and see for myself.”
“Okay.”
“I can always make something up.” Lana said, scowling.
“No, it’s good, it’s good.” Chloe told her. “I like it. It’s unleashing the inner Lana.”
Lana nodded, walking away. Chloe wrote it down, turning to Clark expectantly. “Okay, Clark. You’re up.” She frowned when she followed Clark’s stare to Lana’s retreating figure. “Clark, remember, it’s a PG-13 poll.”
Clark turned to Chloe, grinning. “Ever since Whitney’s father’s been in the hospital, there’s been a no-fly zone with Lana.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, exasperated. “You know, Clark, there are other girls out there that don’t require crossing an emotional minefield.”
“Yeah,” Clark said, frowning. “But I can’t just turn off my feelings for her.”
Chloe grimaced. “You know, the choice is yours.” She snapped. “You can either sit in your loft and play with your telescope, or move on.”
*
Chloe slammed the door behind her, striding into the living room and collapsing next to Sam.
“How did the poll go?” Sam asked. “Any good desires?”
She rolled her eyes, digging through her bag and passing the poll over to him. “No, I mean, Lana’s deluded enough to believe that if she climbs up a fifteen metre windmill she’ll be able to see the Metropolis Skyline.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Leave it to Barbie.”
Chloe laughed slightly. “Yeah.” Her phone rang and she reached for it, leaning past Sam to reach her phone. “Clark? What’s wrong? What?” Chloe looked up at Sam with wide-eyes. “Do you want me to come and see you? Well, I’ll see you tomorrow...what?...Well, I hope you’re alright. Bye.”
Sam watched her as Chloe frowned at the phone. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.
“Clark’s dad’s in hospital.” She told him. “He’s in some sort of Anaphylactic shock. The doctors have only seen one other case like this.”
Sam looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Can they treat him?”
“The only other person with these symptoms was brought in this morning.” She told them, worried. “They don’t have a clue how to treat it. Mr Kent brought the guy in after almost crashing into him. The man flipped off the road.”
Dean nodded. “Where?”
*
Chloe winced when Dean pulled her aside by the arm, glaring. “Why did Barbie have to come along?” he asked.
Chloe laughed, glancing over as Lana slid out of the back of the Impala. “She’s just as worried as me.”
Sam strode over to join them, looking up at the night sky before squinting at their surroundings. “What are we looking for?”
Chloe shrugged, adjusting her camera and preparing to start searching.
“Okay, uh, what are we doing here?” Lana asked, appearing to Dean’s left.
“She’s just as worried as me.” Dean mocked under his breath in a high-pitched voice, sniggering at Chloe’s glare.
“Well, Mr Kent and Mr Beales have the same symptoms.” Chloe reminded Lana, frowning when Lana’s eyes widened. “So this is the only place they’ve been together, so I’m assuming whatever happened to Mr Kent was caused by something out here.”
Lana nodded slightly, glancing round the dark road nervously. “What are we looking for?”
“Anything.” Chloe answered, ignoring how Lana’s face fell. “I mean, the debris starts from way over there and ends over in that ditch.”
Dean winced, stepping gingerly over some metal and bending down. “This is some serious road rage.”
Chloe agreed, wrapping her hand round Sam’s and pulling him over to the other side of the accident scene. They walked round, Chloe occasionally leaning down to take a picture. She frowned, bending down to run her fingers over a piece of scrap metal, wincing at the devastation.
“I think I found something!”
They turned, hearing Lana’s voice, and began to make their way towards her. Dean was doing the same, pushing through branches to reach Lana. She was knelt on the floor, hunched over slightly. She turned, eyes wide when she heard their footsteps.
“What you got?” Chloe asked, stooping beside her friend.
Lana frowned, raising a scorched hula doll up from beside her. “Sorry.”
Dean groaned, ripping the doll from her hand, examining it, and tossing it away. “Useless.” he muttered to Sam, but Lana heard, glaring at him.
Chloe noticed, placing a hand on Lana’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Let’s get out of here. This place is a dead end.” Sam nodded, leading Chloe back to the Impala, Lana traipsing behind them. Dean got into the driver’s seat, scowling as Lana attempted to sit next to him. Chloe winced, pulling her friend away and towards the back seats. Lana grimaced, wrinkled her nose up, and then sneezed. “Bless you.”
*
Chloe stood behind Whitney, annoyed as he leant down to the drinks fountain slowly. She grimaced, wishing he would hurry up, when suddenly the school burst into whispers and the crowd parted. Chloe frowned, looking through the clearing to see Lana standing at the end of the hall, hands on her hips. She was wearing a tight, black vest with a short skirt of the same colour. She was even dressed in knee-high black boots.
Chloe rolled her eyes as Whitney looked slowly up from the fountain, his jaw dropping slightly before he smirked. Lana grinned, strutting down the hallway to stand in front of her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Wow.” Whitney whispered, oblivious to how Chloe stepped round him to get her drink. “What’s the occasion?”
Lana smiled seductively, pulling Whitney down for a short kiss. Chloe gagged slightly, frowning at how close the couple were to her.
“Nothing.” she murmured up to Whitney, and Chloe was sure she was the only one who could hear. “I just thought we’d blow off class, today.”
Whitney smiled, but it quickly changed into a regretful scowl. “I can’t.” he mumbled, staring intently at Lana. “I’m barely keeping ahead. Then I have to go to the store, and then run by the hospital to see my dad.”
Lana pouted, pressing one finger to Whitney’s chest and pushing him away. “You know what?” she snapped, her voice low. “I’m tired of your excuses. Ever since your dad got sick, you haven’t been any fun at all.”
She made to strut away, but Whitney gently wrapped his hand round her wrist, keeping her back. Chloe had straightened up, one of the few still interested in what was going on. Leaning back against the wall, she watched, curious as Lana’s eyes narrowed into slits and her lip curled.
“I’m sorry, Lana.” Whitney begged. “But it’s kind of a big deal.”
“Whatever.” Lana snarled. “I feel like I’m locked in this relationship out of guilt.”
Whitney winced, eyes widening in shock. “Lana, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” she answered. “I’m just not keeping it inside anymore.”
Whitney released her wrist, his arms falling limply to his side. “Well, if that’s the way you feel…” he said reluctantly, and Chloe frowned at how lost he sounded. “Maybe we need to reconsider this relationship.”
Lana grinned, satisfied. “Okay, fine.” she said, raising her voice and drawing attention back to her and her boyfriend. “It’s over, Whitney.”
She stalked away, and Chloe cringed at the way Whitney slumped, rejected, as the school immediately began to gossip.
“You’re lucky I don’t have such a great reputation for my gossip column.” she said, grinning as Whitney looked at her. “Then again, at the speed this is spreading, writing about this would be obsolete by the time tomorrow rolled around.”
Whitney stared mutely at her before gaping slightly. “You wouldn’t…”
“You’re right.” she replied, smiling. “But I do have some advice.”
Whitney stared at her, slightly shocked. “What would that be?” he asked warily.
“Firstly, stop trying to win the Oscar for ‘Best Wounded Soldier Act’ and then get yourself a math tutor, pass your algebra test, see your dad and move on.”
Whitney gaped, blinked furiously, and then trudged away.
*
Chloe looked up from the computer when she heard someone clearing their throat. Clark was leaning in the doorway, dressed in a regulation gym kit, his hair dripping. His eyes were wide and he was grinning like a moron.
“Clark?” Chloe asked, raising her eyebrows. “Why are you so...wet?” Clark just squeaked and rushed over to her desk, perching on the end. She grimaced. “Clark...paper.” she warned, fumbling through her desk to find a towel. “Here. Now stop dripping.”
Clark ran the towel through his hair, then turned to Chloe. “Lana took me to the school pool, stripped to her underwear, kissed me, pushed me in the pool and then left me to be found by Principal Kwan.”
Chloe’s jaw dropped. “I’m assuming that you didn’t strip to your underwear.” Clark just glared at her, so Chloe sniggered. “She just stripped down in front of you? Lana Lang in all her glory.”
“Most of her glory.” Clark corrected, his eyes glazing over for a brief second before he scowled. “Not that Kwan saw it.”
Chloe smiled when Clark handed her a small, yellow detention slip. She winced. “Well, at least, you’ll have a nice picture to daydream about in Saturday Detention.”
Clark rolled his eyes. “It was weird.” He exclaimed. “She said everything I ever wanted to hear, but it didn’t seem like she knew what she was doing.”
“Well, what do you think made Lana Lang go soft-core?” Chloe asked, turning away from Clark when a picture from the crash-sight appeared on her screen.
Clark grimaced. “First my dad, now Lana.”
Chloe glanced up at Clark, worried. She remembered what Clark had told her - he had caught Jonathan storming through Smallville with a shotgun in hand, more than ready to shot an employee from the savings and loan.
“Don’t forget that Beales guy.” Chloe said, turning back to the screen. “Remember the one your dad helped?”
Clark frowned, slipping off the desk and leaning round to see what she was looking at. “You must have missed something at the crash site.” Clark murmured. “That’s the only connection. Are you sure the Winchesters didn’t see anything?”
“No, I didn’t, because I was there and Sam, Dean and I are all fine.”
Clark grimaced. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Chloe nodded, focusing on the photo in front of her, frowning at the dark shape she could see behind the dark trees. “Wait.” She muttered, feeling Clark lean closer to her. She pointed at the silhouette, scrolling in to look closer. “Looks like we weren’t the only ones there.”
“Who is that?”
Chloe enlarged the picture further, eyes widening in recognition. “I think it’s Dr Hamilton.”
“The meteor freak?” Clark asked, watching as Chloe nodded. “What’s he doing scoping around in the woods?”
“I don’t know.” Chloe admitted. “But I have a feeling it’s not just a coincidence. I’m going go talk to him.”
Clark nodded, reaching for Chloe’s hand. “I’m going to go look for Lana. I think whatever happened to my father, is about to happen to her.” He told her. “Chloe, be careful around Dr Hamilton. Maybe you can take the Winchesters along."
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