Tainted Love series, Story 2: Torn (1/?)
This immediately follows from my other Chlark/Kaloe fic, "Crush."
Tainted Love series, Story 2: Torn
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: adwilliams03@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I can dream.
Rating: PG-13
Song by Natalia Imbruglia
Author’s Note: This is the second fic in my Chlark/Kaloe series, Tainted Love. The first was ‘Crush.’
Spoilers: The first two seasons. After that, I’m going AU.
* * *
My inspiration has run dry
That’s what’s going on
Nothing’s right, I’m torn
I’m all out of faith
This is how I feel
I’m cold and I’m ashamed
Bound and broken on the floor
You’re a little late
I’m already torn
Torn
Torn (Part One)
Clark sat stock-still in the passenger seat of Chloe’s VW bug, staring ahead at his house. Beside him in the driver’s seat, the girl he once thought of as one of his best friends sat stiffly, not looking at him. She hadn’t spoken to him the entire way from Metropolis to Smallville, and he hadn’t attempted to speak to her, either.
He didn’t know what to say, or even how to begin.
Now as he was faced with the reality of going inside the house and talking to his parents, which had always been relatively easy in comparison to dealing with girls, he almost wished he could just sit here in Chloe’s car in stony silence the rest of the day instead.
Almost.
Drawing in a breath, he glanced at her sideways, and he found himself wishing she’d give him some nugget of Chloe wisdom, or advice, or even a little bit of encouragement. When she still didn’t look at him, he swallowed hard. “Thanks for the ride,” he murmured.
Her jaw tightened a little and she gave a short nod of acknowledgement. He’d barely stepped out of the car when she threw it in reverse and sped off down the driveway, kicking up dust and not casting a backwards glance in the rearview.
Damn. He closed his eyes. Then, he opened them slowly and looked up at the house. It was time to own up to his mistakes, no matter how hard it was going to be.
* * *
Jonathan Kent stared out the window at the red VW bug parked in the driveway. He recognized it as Chloe Sullivan’s, but he had no idea why she was at their farm. The only reason she ever visited was to see Clark, and Clark had vanished two months before. The longer the car was idle, the more tense he became. He was about to move to the door to motion her inside when he saw the passenger side door open.
The breath caught in his throat as he saw his son step out of her car. Could it be? Had Chloe somehow located him and convinced him to come back? Shaking his head, for a moment he was sure he was seeing things. But he watched as the red bug turned around quickly and sped off, watched as Clark winced and closed his eyes.
And then he watched as Clark slowly headed toward the kitchen door.
“Martha!” he called, hoarse.
“What is it?” She stepped into the kitchen a second later, looking every bit as pale and worn out as she had for the last two months.
“He’s home,” he whispered.
Martha’s eyes widened and she moved toward the door. The second it was open, she flung her arms around her son, embracing him tightly. “Clark!”
Startled at the unexpected response, tears filled his eyes and he slowly wrapped his arms around her in return.
“Welcome home, Son,” Jonathan said quietly, his own eyes watering as he met Clark’s gaze. “Welcome home.”
Tainted Love series, Story 2: Torn
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: adwilliams03@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I can dream.
Rating: PG-13
Song by Natalia Imbruglia
Author’s Note: This is the second fic in my Chlark/Kaloe series, Tainted Love. The first was ‘Crush.’
Spoilers: The first two seasons. After that, I’m going AU.
* * *
My inspiration has run dry
That’s what’s going on
Nothing’s right, I’m torn
I’m all out of faith
This is how I feel
I’m cold and I’m ashamed
Bound and broken on the floor
You’re a little late
I’m already torn
Torn
Torn (Part One)
Clark sat stock-still in the passenger seat of Chloe’s VW bug, staring ahead at his house. Beside him in the driver’s seat, the girl he once thought of as one of his best friends sat stiffly, not looking at him. She hadn’t spoken to him the entire way from Metropolis to Smallville, and he hadn’t attempted to speak to her, either.
He didn’t know what to say, or even how to begin.
Now as he was faced with the reality of going inside the house and talking to his parents, which had always been relatively easy in comparison to dealing with girls, he almost wished he could just sit here in Chloe’s car in stony silence the rest of the day instead.
Almost.
Drawing in a breath, he glanced at her sideways, and he found himself wishing she’d give him some nugget of Chloe wisdom, or advice, or even a little bit of encouragement. When she still didn’t look at him, he swallowed hard. “Thanks for the ride,” he murmured.
Her jaw tightened a little and she gave a short nod of acknowledgement. He’d barely stepped out of the car when she threw it in reverse and sped off down the driveway, kicking up dust and not casting a backwards glance in the rearview.
Damn. He closed his eyes. Then, he opened them slowly and looked up at the house. It was time to own up to his mistakes, no matter how hard it was going to be.
* * *
Jonathan Kent stared out the window at the red VW bug parked in the driveway. He recognized it as Chloe Sullivan’s, but he had no idea why she was at their farm. The only reason she ever visited was to see Clark, and Clark had vanished two months before. The longer the car was idle, the more tense he became. He was about to move to the door to motion her inside when he saw the passenger side door open.
The breath caught in his throat as he saw his son step out of her car. Could it be? Had Chloe somehow located him and convinced him to come back? Shaking his head, for a moment he was sure he was seeing things. But he watched as the red bug turned around quickly and sped off, watched as Clark winced and closed his eyes.
And then he watched as Clark slowly headed toward the kitchen door.
“Martha!” he called, hoarse.
“What is it?” She stepped into the kitchen a second later, looking every bit as pale and worn out as she had for the last two months.
“He’s home,” he whispered.
Martha’s eyes widened and she moved toward the door. The second it was open, she flung her arms around her son, embracing him tightly. “Clark!”
Startled at the unexpected response, tears filled his eyes and he slowly wrapped his arms around her in return.
“Welcome home, Son,” Jonathan said quietly, his own eyes watering as he met Clark’s gaze. “Welcome home.”