Title: The Bittersweet Ballad of Pete Ross
Author: The Satyr Icon
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Set in Icon AU; Freshman Year
Classification: Smallville; Chloe/Clark; Pete Ross; het_fic
Disclaimer: All characters, references, and other things pertaining to 'Smallville' are property of the WB, DC Comics, Tollin-Robins, Al Gough & MilesMillar, and J. Siegal & J. Shuster; I am just writing for fun, and if I owned them, all would be good and clean in the World.
Summary: Pete and Clark go camping, but why is Chloe coming along? and why does that infuriate Pete?
Word Count: 46,164
Written: Start: Plot: December 2004 Actually Writing: July 2006 Finished: August 2007
Chapter Twelve
http://the-satyr-icon.livejournal.com/129865.html ~The Bittersweet Ballad of Pete Ross~
~CHAPTER THIRTEEN~
"Hmm...that didn't go very well, did it?" Clark said simply and looked at his girlfriend who nodded in stunned agreement. Never in his life had Clark seen his friend so furious at him, not even when he accidentally broke some Pete's toys when they were kids, like shattering his pink Power Ranger action figure, when he innocently told some their classmates at Ezra Jebadiah Obadiah Small Elementary that Pete owned several Tamagotchi digital pet toys and Pete was made fun of by the bullies at lunchtime, or even when he had lost Pete's Metropolis Sharks football team Starter jacket on the school bus a few weeks after Christmas and maybe the worst, spilling some orange juice on a few of his Warrior Angel comics (that Pete had to replace years later at more than ten dollars an issue). Still, after all that, he had never seen the fury that was on his friend's face, or heard the word that spewed from his mouth.
Neither had Chloe. While she didn't know him as long as Clark, to her Pete was usually a cheerful guy, cool to know, always hooking her up with compact discs jam-packed with musical goodness, always exuding with what she thought was 'Metropolis Style' despite being living in rural Smallville. Still, it felt to her that lately that his temper was short, even with her and Clark. She knew that Pete pretty much hated Lex Luthor, and that the millionaire disliked him, so she knew that Clark tried keep his two friends separate. She and Clark hung out with their diminutive buddy when they could, but gave Pete space when he needed it, either for his athletic endeavors or when he was working his 'mack' on the girls. Chloe was confused; even Pete wanted them together, back in eighth grade, and she didn't think that she was monopolizing ALL of Clark's time. She looked at the spot where Pete disappeared into the forest. "Are you going to go after him?"
"No. Not this time," Clark said, looking there too; he didn't bother to use his x-ray vision. Chloe was surprised with the answer. "Pete will come back when he lets that anger burn out." She nodded in agreement. "But we'll have to talk some more when he does get back."
"I...I didn't do anything wrong coming along on this trip, did I, Clark?" Her voice quivered. "I mean...was this is some sort of 'He-Man, Boys Only, No Girl Named Chloe Sullivan Allowed' thing?...Why did you put me through this?"
"I wanted you here, with me, and to hang with Pete," Clark said earnestly, looking into her green eyes, his hand caressing her cheek. "We all had been through a lot together lately, and I thought....I could tell Pete about my powers and we three could be closer....but it just didn't work out that way."
"Oh hunny..." Chloe sighed and hugged her boyfriend. "I hope Pete comes back soon. He's my best friend too."
"He's more than my best friend," Clark said into the wind, hoping that Pete could hear his words. "Pete's my brother."
They stood together, in the gusts that was ripping around them, in the cold that was hardening the dirt and already frosting the dew on the grass at their boots, looking at where Pete ran into the woods. "Let's get you by the fire," Clark said.
"Yeah," She said, and settled once more on the log. "All I need is to get frost-bite on my butt," she said to Clark, with a small smile. She shivered. "You know what, Clark? This night can't get any worse."
However, Smallville was the kind of place where things did get worse. And, of all the citizens of the town, Chloe Sullivan should have known better than to say what she did to Clark; as she looked up to him as he handed her the Thermos that her used his powers to warm up the coffee inside it, a small droplet of rain splattered right on her eyeball. "OW! MY EYE!" she screamed, and dropped the Thermos, her precious coffee spilling out. Clark quickly gathered up the metal canister and winced at her, watching the way she rubbed the heck out of her eye.
"Oh no," Chloe whispered as that singlet droplet of water was followed by more raindrops, much larger than the one that splatted on her eye, and they fell around her and Clark, falling erratically. A small hopeful smile started on her lips when it seemed like the drizzle stopped. Then, a whoosh of wind slammed through the camp site and the deluge that she joked about earlier had burst from the sky.
Pete Ross ran, farther and farther into the forest, trying to get away from Clark and Chloe, going up slopes and down hills, off the paths he knew, dodging the bushes and slipping past the tree trunks like they were oncoming linebackers that were going to tackle him when they popped in front of his lantern's light, going as far as his legs and anger could take him. It was pretty far; he had lost himself in the woods. He was tired, cold, sad, and angry at his friends, and at himself. Finally, he started to slow down, no longer running on pure emotion. His legs felt rubbery, his chest burned, and he tried to be careful, but his shoe caught onto what felt like a tree root, and he tripped, going headlong into the wide barrel of the tree in front of him. He barely had time to put his hands up, to protect his face from the tree's jagged bark, hoping that he wouldn't shatter his lantern on impact.
"Oh crap!"
But Pete didn't collide into one of the towering trees that surrounded him. He bounced off something that was softer than lumber, and more hairy, too. Pete lifted his head, and his nose caught a whiff of a stench that almost make him retch. Pete scrambled to his knees, his mouth open. It wasn't some kind of mossy tree. It was much, much worse.
It was The Shaggy Man, a childhood legend to Pete no more; it was taller than Pete could have imagined, well over nine feet tall and as wide as a Redwood tree trunk, with matted, soiled hairs all shaggy down its body. Pete shined the lantern at it and he could make out no musculature on the creature's face or body; it seemed to him to be a massive mound of hair. Pete looked higher, and saw The Shaggy Man's eyes, yellow orbs with a reddish rim glowing in the dark, behind strands of hair. Pete shivered, scared, and breathed through his mouth so he didn't have to breathe in the creature's awful smell.
But when Pete tried to rise to his feet, the creature swung its bushy arm. Despite the hairy bulk, the swing was fast, but Pete, thanks to his athletic ability and good, old fashioned fear, was faster. He ducked under the shaggy limb and rolled out of the way. The hulking mass of hair trudged forward, set on beating Pete, striking out wildly, its hairy fists smashing silently somehow against the dirt. When it moved, it trampled over twigs and undergrowth, but the movements didn't cause any sound; The Shaggy Man survived in isolation by a special sound-dampening ability to go with its amazing strength. The downside was it's stinky smell, worse than wet dogs.
Pete couldn't believe his luck: the creature's long hair brushed over its eyes and obstructed more of it's view of Pete, who was still dodging the blows. The teen scrambled backward, scooting on his hands and feet. The Shaggy Man slowed down for a moment, to shake itself, whipping its hairy coat, flicking off the rain, as well as chunks of dirt and mud, twigs and bits of grubs and berries. Ominously, pieces of rotted meat flew off the shaggy pelt. But the creature continued to swing away, slamming its fists into the mud, paying no mind to the now pouring rainstorm or the mud that was sliding down the rise between the trees. He kept backing Pete up, through the puddles and the rain-filled holes, until he had the teen against a small tree. Everything was happening too fast; Pete was too scared to even scream.
The beast's fist missed Pete yet again and pounded into rain-softened ground. At first, there was an odd hum, followed by a creaking, and finally the earth itself shook under the power of the punch. The muddy ground cracked open, and before Pete could react, the weakened earth collapsed in on itself. It took Pete, the little tree and most of was on the surface around him down into a pit below.
The Shaggy Man toppled backwards and stared at the opening in the ground. The creature pushed on the ground for stability, moving away as more pieces of earth fell into the chasm, and when the muddy ground felt firm, it peered over the edge. The hairy beast saw no movement other than the rainwater that was now cascading over the sides and heard no sound other than the rain that continuing to pour down. The Shaggy Man didn't need to defend its privacy, its home anymore. It got up silently. The creature lumbered away from the sinkhole, and the beast's massive shaggy form had disappeared into the forest again.
"Even for Smallville, this rain is freakin' crazy," Chloe yelped, her head sticking out of her tent's flaps. The campsite was quickly becoming a quagmire: the rain starting to soak the ground, making the clearing muddy. Chloe tried to watch Clark while he use his super-speed to make a barricade of dead logs to slow down the campsite's flooding. "Don't you think Pete's going to notice when he comes back that there's a dam around the tents? I didn't see any beavers around here," she shouted to the blurry vision in the rain.
"Dang it." Clark stopped and skidded on the mud. Chloe giggled, and waited for him to fall on his butt. But he didn't, and he gave her a sly smile. The rainstorm and the gusting winds didn't bother him at all; in fact, it was rather invigorating to his alien physiology. But he looked at his girlfriend, her face sopping wet, her hair a mess, her teeth chattering. He knew she was freezing. He walked to her. "We can't stay here anymore, not in this rain."
"Yay!" Chloe cheered. "Let's get packed up and get the heck out of here!" When the rain really started to come down, she scrambled into her tent and she yelled over to Clark that there was a leak or something, and rain was dripping inside. She was tired being a tough girl, and wanted the warmth and comforts of her home. Camping was one of Clark's things, she decided, that was not for her. By the time she got her a couple of things packed (actually, crammed in her knapsack), Clark had already got his tent and Pete's tent dismantled, folded, and stored in their bags, all their gear packed up and the logs and fire pit scattered. Chloe finished jamming all that she had in her bags and crawled out of her tent, one hand holding her lantern that she took on a bathroom excursion and left in her tent, and just when she cleared away from the tent, it collapsed in a heap. "Whoa!"
"Pete didn't set it up properly," Clark realized, holding his green lantern for light (not that he needed it). He saw that the tie-downs were loose, the stakes had been barely in the ground. "I'm surprised it stayed up for so long in this wind."
"Pete's a Jerkwheat!" Chloe frowned, wiping at the rain splattering on her face and the mud off the knees of her pants. They looked on as the rain and mud flood into the tent. Chloe sighed sadly; she didn't like camping but she did like shopping for it, and other things for the trip. "I can't believe him!"
"It's better that it collapsed now than in the middle of the night," Clark said, and in a blink or two, he had the tent was in a bag. His eyes scanned around for more things to pack away. She caught his eye, smiling at him. Clark looked a her strangely.
"Of course, if the tent collapsed in the middle of the night," Chloe grinned and huddled closer to her boyfriend, "none of our parents could have blamed poor little me if I wanted a warm safe place to sleep through the night on her first camping trip... in a properly assembled tent...like yours." She shivered in the cold, but gave Clark a smoldering look.
"Only you can think of something like that in weather like this," he laughed, running his hand through his wet hair, and doing that made him look even hotter to his girlfriend. He switched the lantern to his other hand and leaned into her. She thought he was going to kiss her finally on this trip, but pulled the zipper tab higher on her jacket.
"You're a good boy," she blushed at her gallant boyfriend, and re-adjusted her hat that really wasn't helping keeping her hair dry. Rain had started to sting her skin in the wind gusts. "You wouldn't have done any naughty stuff in the tent."
"I know." He tied her backpack onto Pete's pack and swung them over his back, and grabbed his own stuff. Any other person would have collapsed under the weight, but Clark stood up, relaxed. "You, on the other hand..."
"Hey!" She socked him oh his shoulder. Then she thought about snuggling and sleeping bags and other warm thoughts. She laughed. "Well...you're right." Then a strong wind ripped through the campsite and made Chloe take a few backward steps, struggling against it. She made a face. "Okay... no more joking. We have to go."
"We can't yet," Clark said, looking at the forest again, dropping the waterproof packs into the mud. He turned to her, holding her hand so she didn't tumble away in the wind and rain.
"We have to get Pete," Chloe said, looking into his eyes. They hurried against the pouring rain, their green lanterns held high, into the forest to search for their friend.
Chapter Links
Prologue ~
One ~
Two ~
Three ~
Four ~
Five ~
Six ~
Seven ~
Eight ~
Nine ~
Ten ~
Eleven ~
Twelve ~
Thirteen ~
Fourteen ~
Fifteen ~
Sixteen ~
Epilogue The Satyr Icon