Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

“Watch it, Kent!” comes an offended screech as Clara, overcome with sudden weakness, stumbles and nearly bowls over Mandy.

“Sorry,” Clara mumbles as she hurriedly backs away, getting as far away from Lana and her meteor rock necklace as she can without seeming like she is.

Suzanne eyes the shapeless hand-me-downs Clara is wearing with disgust before sneering at her. “Freak.”

“She’s not a freak,” Lana says firmly.

Mandy snorts. “You’re only saying that cause you think you owe that loser something. She’s the reason Emily is dead-”

“That’s not true!” Lana cries out in protest.

Suzanne and Mandy merely share an exasperated glance.

“Oh come on, you said it yourself, Emily drowned trying to save her-”

“And me,” Lana interjects, and her voice wavers. “They were both just trying to save me.”

Something that might be guilt flickers across Suzanne’s face. “Whatever. Come on, let’s go to the Beanery.”

Lana hesitates.

“Lana, you coming?”

Taking a deep breath, she determinedly follows, and doesn’t look back at Clara once.

Clara bites her lip and tries not to cry.

***

When Clara is 9 years old, she hits one growth spurt after another. Although she tries her best to hunch over and appear shorter, she still stands out like a sore thumb in all the class pictures, the gangly tall girl who towers over everyone else, including the teacher. By the time she turns 11 years old, she’s 5’10” and seemingly all arms and legs, and not even the clothes from the women’s section of Fordman’s will fit her.

It bothers Clara that she’s so much taller than everyone else, and her height and the hand-me-downs she’s forced to wear from her father certainly does nothing for her already pathetic social life. Boys won’t even stand next to her for fear of looking ridiculous and being teased. Being a part of a sports team might help, except her parents refuse to let her participate, as they’re concerned that with her strength and speed, she may inadvertently hurt someone. Her mother repeatedly reassures her that she won’t stand out for very long as the other kids will be growing up too, but her words of comfort don’t help much when they sneer at her and mock her.

And so, when Clara is outside doing her chores and along with a sudden headache she starts to see through things, she naturally freaks out. The last thing she wants is another strange and inexplicable power, another way she’s different from everyone else. Even as she hurriedly backs away, the image in front of her doesn’t change – she can still see the cow’s skeleton like she has some kind of x-ray vision. She closes her eyes and opens them again, but rather than returning to normal, she can now see the horrifying image of all the muscles of the cow’s body.

Realizing she can’t turn it off, Clara determinedly looks elsewhere. As she looks through the barn walls and towards the house, her gaze catches sight of a strange, egg-shaped metal object in the storm cellar. As abruptly as it had started it ends, and her vision returns to normal. Eager for any sort of distraction, Clara hurriedly makes her way into the storm cellar to investigate the oddity.

Turning the light on so she can see, she looks around and spots a large object underneath a tarp. When she pulls it off, her breath catches in her chest as she realizes just exactly what she’s seeing. So entranced is she in examining the pod, she misses her parents’ alarm at finding the storm cellar door open, and their dismayed realization upon seeing her with the ship.

“She’s too young, Jonathan,” Martha says, her eyes betraying her worry.

Jonathan tugs his wife close and kisses her head. “We don’t have a choice.”

“Mom! Dad!” Clara says excitedly when she spots them coming down the steps. “How did you build this? It’s so smooth!”

Martha exchanges an uncertain glance with Jonathan. “We didn’t build it, sweetheart. We found it.”

“Found it where? And why would you hide it in the storm cellar?”

Martha steps forward. “Honey, it’s time you were told the truth.” She reaches out and gently grasps Clara’s hands in her own. “Your biological parents… they… well, they weren’t exactly from around here,” she says falteringly.

As Clara gazes at them uncomprehendingly, Jonathan walks over to a shelf and lifts an object covered with cloth.

“This is from your biological parents.”

Clara has long since known she’s adopted, of course – living in a town with the name of Smallville means there really is no keeping any major secrets from your neighbors – but she knows nothing about her birth parents. To finally receive something that’s from them… Her hands shake as she brings the rectangular disk-like object closer. It’s made of metal, that much she can tell, but she has no idea what it is and the odd symbols engraved on top aren’t anything she recognizes.

“What does it say?” she asks, her voice wavering.

“I tried to decipher it for years, but it’s not written in any language known to man.”

Clara’s head jerks up. She looks at first her father then her mother, and their solemn gazes make it clear they aren’t joking. After looking down at the engraving once more, her gaze slowly drifts to the metal pod.

A metal pod that’s big enough to hold a baby.

Eyes wide, Clara begins to back away.

“Sweetheart, you landed with the meteors that day, and you found us-”

She cuts her off. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“We just wanted to protect you,” Martha answers pleadingly as she reaches for Clara’s hands.  

She jerks away. “Protect me from what? You should have told me!”

She can’t bring herself to look at the pod. “I really am a freak,” she says quietly, her voice thick with despair.

“Clara, no-”

Ignoring her mother’s pleas, she uses her super speed to get away – away from the cellar, her parents, and the alien ship that had brought her to Earth.

***

Clara leans against the railing of the Loeb Bridge, looking down at the murky waters of the Elbow River. From where she’s standing, she can barely see the spot where Emily Dinsmore had drowned when they were 10 years old.

Despite living only a mile away from each other, Clara and Lana have never been particularly close. For the longest time, Jonathan and Martha had kept Clara at home because she hadn’t been able to control her strength and speed. And once she’d learned control, the meteor rock-induced nausea and weakness she feels has meant the only time she can be around Lana without feeling ill and making a fool of herself is when Lana isn’t wearing her meteor rock necklace, and that’s infrequent enough that it would be a stretch to call them acquaintances.  

Perhaps Clara wouldn’t feel such a longing for the companionship of her nearest neighbor had she had any friends. Unfortunately, being home schooled until the second grade, her parents’ overprotectiveness – understandable now that she knows the truth – and her ungainly appearance have meant that she’s quickly been labeled a loser. The nicer students don’t befriend her for fear of also being labeled as an outcast, and no matter what they might say, the kids who don’t care about that are few and far between, and of those few, none of them have any interest in being Clara’s friend.

So when that fateful afternoon Lana had kindly invited her along to play by the riverbank with her and Emily, Clara couldn’t – and hadn’t wanted to – say no. Swallowing any discomfort, Clara had trailed after them as closely as she could without tripping over her own feet.

When a sudden rainstorm had caught them unawares and Lana had slipped and fallen into the river, Clara had jumped in right after her. Unfortunately, the feeling of weakness and nausea had only grown the closer she’d swam towards Lana, and in the end, Emily had had to jump in to save Lana. Although both Clara and Lana had managed to get to safety, Emily had drowned. Clara had dove back into the river to save her, but it had been too late.

Ever since then, Lana has refused to so much as even look at Clara. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t blame her, but the memory of Emily’s death is painful and Clara unfortunately is a constant reminder. Clara had certainly felt guilty enough that she hadn’t argued. But that sadly has meant that Clara, already considered an outcast, has become even more of a pariah, having been rejected by Lana Lang, considered by all to be the kindest and sweetest girl in Smallville.

An outcast… Clara wonders if somehow they can tell that she isn’t one of them, that she doesn’t belong here. If the reason she is so awkward and different is because she isn’t human. And then it hits her that if her pod had come down with the meteors, then all the devastation that had been wrought upon Smallville – including the deaths of Lana’s parents – are her fault.

She’d caused this.

“It’s all my fault,” she whispers. Clara can no longer stifle the sobs and tears trail down her cheeks.

It’s almost a relief when a familiar red truck pulls up.

Martha stands beside her, her shoulder-length red hair whipping about in the wind, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“I’m sorry you had to find out the truth this way.”

Clara’s voice cracks as she says, “It’s all my fault. Lana’s parents died because of me.”

That gets Martha to move. “No, sweetheart, no,” she says soothingly, and draws an unresisting Clara into an embrace. “What happened was terrible, but it’s not your fault. You are not responsible for the meteor shower.”

“They came down with me-”

“You were only a toddler. You are not responsible for what happened to Smallville that day.” She pulls back and forces Clara to meet her eyes. “You were a blessing, a bright spot in the midst of such tragedy.”

Martha reaches up and wipes the tears from Clara’s cheeks. “Your father and I had wanted a child for so long. And then there you were. You found us, an answer to both of our dearest wishes. It didn’t and doesn’t matter where you come from – you are dear and precious to your father and I. A very blessing from the heavens.”

Despite the pretty words, Clara doesn’t feel any better. “I still feel responsible.”

“I know, sweetheart. But you can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over,” she says again.

“Then how do I make this feeling go away?” Clara asks plaintively.

Martha’s smile is sad. “You can’t. But that’s what makes you human.”

Clara feels the impact those words have as they go through her. Outwardly, there aren’t any obvious changes. She isn’t any less anxious or weary, and she still feels like the truth of her origins is a terrible burden, one that she knows her parents fear she’s much too young to handle – and she’s not sure if she can disagree. But Martha’s managed to subside a fear that Clara hadn’t even realized she’s been harboring.

Clara closes her eyes and breathes in deeply before at last pulling away.

“Let’s go home.”

***

In many ways, knowing of her alien origins make things easier. She no longer has to agonize over where her powers come from or of her weird reaction to the meteor rocks, although both of those things do still continue to confound her. On the other hand, the fear of being discovered has only heightened, since she now has far more to hide than just being a freak.

And E.T. has become her favorite movie.

As for the sudden appearance of her x-ray vision, her parents tell her she’s gaining these powers because she’s probably going through an alien version of puberty. Or so they think. It isn’t like there’s a manual – they’re all just guessing.

“I’m sure there’s some way to control it, sweetheart,” Martha says as reassuringly as she can after Clara’s x-ray vision flashes again and she accidentally sees her parents having sex.

She wishes she could just scrub her brain of that image.

“You guys, I can see through things! How do you control that?”

“You’ve got to practice, Clara. Your eyes have muscles, just like your legs. You broke a lot of things at first because you couldn’t control your strength and speed, but look at you now.”

Jonathan swallows what mortification he still feels and clears his throat to speak, though he’s unable to look Clara in the eyes. “Your mom’s right. Look, all you have to do is figure out a way to, uh, condition them so that you don’t get these random flashes.”

“That sounds great. Just how am I supposed to do that?” she retorts sarcastically, before sighing. “I just wish I could control this.”

After a few awkward moments of silence, Martha stumbles onto an idea. “What if you try focusing it? Like a telescope?”

Jonathan eagerly stands. “Here, you could start with something small.” Reaching into his pocket, he grasps an object and forms a fist around it. “Try to tell me what I have in my right hand.”

Clara looks down at the fist held out in front of her. “Your pocketknife.”

He opens it up with an astounded smile. “Well, would you look at that? It worked! You could see through my hand!”

He seems so genuinely enthusiastic about it that she feels bad bursting his bubble, but… “Actually, I didn’t. You just always carry your pocketknife in that pocket.”

At the chagrined look on Jonathan’s face, she and Martha burst out into giggles.

Eventually Clara learns that she can activate her x-ray vision by concentrating, which is a relief to all the Kents. And when weeks go by without her getting another power, believing that had been the last of it, Clara breathes a sigh of relief. Of course, because she’s jinxed herself, she then wakes up the next morning floating above her bed – only to find herself crashing back down when she fully wakes up, breaking her bedframe in the process.

“Mom, what’s happening to me?”

Martha sighs as she sits down on the couch beside her. “I don’t know, honey. As soon as you start breaking the law of gravity, we’re definitely in uncharted territory.”

Clara fidgets before saying quietly, “I just wish it would stop.”

Martha tucks the hair that’s fallen out of Clara’s ponytail behind her ear. “Sweetheart, I’m your mother. I’m supposed to have all the answers and it kills me that I don’t. But you have to have faith that we’ll figure this thing out together.”

“I do,” she insists. “But this is happening to me and I’m scared.”

Martha just tugs her in closer and gently kisses her forehead, and Clara can’t help but feel like she isn’t the only one who’s terrified.

After a beat, her mother remarks, “Guess you’ll have to get over your fear of heights.”

Clara lets out a strained laugh.

***

Although Clara knows her parents love her despite the fact that she is an alien, she can’t help but feel even more isolated than before. She is fundamentally different than everyone else around her, and although only she and her parents know the truth about her origins, it doesn’t change anything.

She is still an alien.

She will never be normal.

And Clara can’t help but desperately wish that she could be.

Chapter Text

Chapter One

As though the universe is trying to give Clara a break, a transfer student from Metropolis by the name of Chloe Sullivan comes roaring into her life. The spiky blonde is smart, opinionated, and not at all intimidated by her height or reputation, and for some reason Clara can’t determine, decides to pick her as her best friend. Clara is beyond grateful for her decision, and so despite her misgivings, joins the school newspaper, The Torch, at Chloe’s insistence.

Being best friends with Chloe means Pete Ross becomes her friend too. Despite being the shortest boy in school, he’d never actively tried to avoid her and in fact had always been nice whenever they’ve come across each other. The disparities in their social standing had meant that had been the extent of their interactions, however. But thanks to his massive crush on Chloe, Pete decides to join the school paper, and they all inevitably end up hanging out together. To her happy surprise, Clara soon comes to count him as a close friend.

But while Chloe and Pete are great, they don’t know her secret. In fact, she’s terrified they’ll find out, not the least of which is because of Chloe’s Wall of Weird, her collection of stories that document every strange, bizarre, and unexplained event that’s happened in Smallville since the meteor shower. Although Clara largely dismisses the whole thing as hoaxes and tall tales, she can’t help but fear that she’ll end up in the center of it all one day. It’s definitely enough to give an alien nightmares. So despite knowing how unfair it is, Clara can’t help but keep them at an imperceptible distance.

Still, as weird and crazy the stories on the Wall of Weird are, however, they do give Clara an excellent idea. She too begins to search for bizarre incidents that have occurred, except her search isn’t limited to just Smallville. She wants to find out if there might be others like her out there, those who, if not aliens themselves, may possess powers and abilities similar to hers. She’s terrified that she’s the only freak in the world, especially because her list of powers seems to keep growing.

Ever since she’d realized the date listed on her birth certificate is a fake, she’d insisted they celebrate the date of her adoption instead, as it makes more sense than celebrating a random date her parents had selected. They’d been quite touched by her decision, and things had been going along swimmingly since. Except yesterday, when Clara had attempted to blow out the candles, she hadn’t just blown out the candles – her very breath had frozen the entire cake as well as the dinner table. And worst of all? It had been her mother’s red velvet cake, and she hadn’t been able to eat a single bite of it.

“Clara, you’re going to miss the bus!”

She looks up and her eyes widen as she sees the time.

“Coming, mom!”

She quickly closes the browser and begins to whirl around, gathering her things. Just before she leaves her room, she does a quick check in the mirror. She frowns at her ungainly appearance, wishing not for the first time that she could be as beautiful and delicate as Lana. Her brown hair is wavy rather than straight, and it tends to do whatever it wants no matter how much hair spray or gel she uses, which is why she usually keeps her hair in a simple ponytail. She also doesn’t wear any makeup because not only is she terrible at applying it, super speed ensures that whatever she wears doesn’t last for long. On top of that, her height means her clothes are from the men’s section of Fordman’s, being hand-me-downs from her father, which is beyond embarrassing. If only she could afford to go shopping at the larger, better-stocked stores in Granville or Metropolis, maybe she could pass as almost pretty.

“Clara!”

Her head snaps up and she zooms downstairs and out the door. Unfortunately it’s too late – the school bus is already leaving, and she can see Pete handing Chloe money, the latter undoubtedly having won a bet on her being late and missing the bus.

Rather than ask her parents to give her a ride, Clara decides to just cut through cornfields and super speed her way to school.

***

“So, anyone ask you to the dance?” Clara hears Pete say as nonchalantly as he can to Chloe as they get off the school bus.

“Not yet.”

“Hey, maybe you and I could go together. I mean, not as a date-date thing, more as a friend-friend thing.”

“Sure, that’ll be fun. And maybe you can help me convince Clara to join us.”

Clara hurries forward to interrupt them before Chloe can see Pete’s face fall. “Hi guys.”

Chloe turns around, looking perplexed. “Uh, didn’t you just -- weren’t you-”

She smiles innocently. “I took a shortcut.”

“Through what? A black hole?” Chloe says incredulously.

Pete puts his arm around Chloe’s shoulders and steers her towards the school. “Clara, you’ll have to excuse our intrepid reporter. Seems as though her weirdar is on DEFCON 5. She thought something was attacking the bus.”

Chloe huffs. “Okay, just because everyone else chooses to ignore the strange things that happen in this leafy little hamlet doesn’t mean that they don’t happen.”

Clara and Pete just exchange exasperated looks over the blonde’s head.

“Now, you know we’d love to join you and Scooby inside the Mystery Machine for another zany adventure, but I gotta hand in this permission slip before homeroom.”

As Pete is displaying the slip in question, Clara sees the notice announcing cheerleader tryouts.

Chloe’s eyes widen with amazement. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to try out for the football team!”

When she looks at Clara and sees what has her attention, she bursts out into giggles. “What is this, some sort of teen suicide pact? Clara for the pompom brigade and Pete for the jockstraps?”

Clara smiles tightly. “I’m not trying out.”

As much as she wants to be a cheerleader, to be liked and appear normal, there is no way she’ll be able to get on the squad when Lana and her meteor rock necklace is also on the team.

“Well good!” Chloe says decidedly. “Honestly, Pete-”

He drags her away from the crowds before she can say anything else. Clara follows the duo to the side of the building where they’re mostly hidden from view.

“Ouch! Pete, what?” the blonde protests.

“I’m trying to avoid becoming this year’s scarecrow,” he says in a whisper, leaning in so that no one else can overhear.

“What are you talking about?” Chloe whispers back, before raising her voice and saying, “And why are we whispering?”

Pete sighs and rolls his eyes. “It’s a homecoming tradition. Every year before the big game, the football players select a freshman, take him to Riley Field, strip him down to his boxers before stringing him up like a scarecrow.”

Chloe looks horrified, Clara no less so. “Jesus, sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen.”

“Why do you think I’m trying out for the team? Figure they won’t choose one of their own.”

Clara throws Pete a supportive glance as they once again make their way towards the entrance. “Good luck.”

“Think I’ll need it?” he swaggers, but there’s genuine insecurity in his voice. Pete isn’t exactly tall, strong, or muscular, after all.

“You’ll be fine,” she tells him, only sort of lying.

Chloe rolls her eyes before turning to Clara.

“So what’s with all the books?” she asks, gesturing at the stack Clara is holding in her arms.

Pete glances at the titles. “Nietzsche? So what are you, man or superman?” he quips, before his brows furrow. “Or would that be woman or superwoman?”

Chloe snorts as Clara shrugs. “I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Just then, Clara feels the familiar nausea and weakness overcoming her. She seemingly stumbles over nothing and falls, scattering her books everywhere.

As the other students stare and laugh and Clara turns red with humiliation, Chloe says under her breath to Pete, “I wonder what her problem is with Lana Lang. She can’t get within 5 feet of her without turning into a total freak show.”

Pete appears uncomfortable as he says, “You know about… Emily?”

Chloe frowns. “Yeah, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

Looking like he regrets mentioning it in the first place, Pete shrugs. “They’ve avoided each other since then. It’s a painful reminder, I guess.”

When Lana, despite having seen the spaz attack, remains by Whitney’s side and refuses to even look at Clara, Chloe and Pete help her gather her books. By the time they finish, Lana and Whitney are gone.

“Come on, Clara, we’d better get to class,” Chloe says sympathetically as the school bell rings.

***

Like a glutton for punishment, Clara sits on the bleachers after school and watches the cheerleaders practice. She can’t help but feel envious and forlorn. Even the comical image of Pete wearing pads and helmet clearly meant for someone much bigger than him only distracts her briefly from her desperate desire to be normal and to belong.

After once more gazing wistfully at Lana cheerfully smiling at her friends, Clara leaves to return home.

She decides to take the long way back in the hopes that she can work off some of her mood. The last thing she wants to do is make her parents worry about her even more than they already do. She knows they’re freaked out enough over her newest ability, and she feels guilty that they’ll now have to use the money they don’t have to replace the kitchen table.

Naturally, her feet take her to Loeb Bridge. As Clara leans on the railing and broodily stares into the murky depths of the river, she hears squealing brakes and sliding tires. Alarmed, she turns around and sees a blue Porsche hit the metal coil that for some reason lies in the middle of the road. The driver loses control of the car and it heads straight for her.

Clara freezes. It feels like time has slowed but she can’t move, as though there is a meteor rock nearby zapping her speed. She sees the face of the driver through the windshield – a pale young man, completely bald with blue eyes that look panicked and are filled with sorrow at the realization that he’s going to take her with him.

He opens his mouth – to scream, perhaps, or to warn her – but it’s too late. The hood of the car slams into her at full speed and both she and the car break through the metal railing of the bridge and go flying off it.

Clara tumbles head over heels, plummeting after the car into the water. It takes her precious seconds to realize that she’s fine, that she’s not hurt. Clearly this is yet another power of hers, but unlike some of her other abilities, this one is damn useful since she’s certain that without it, she would now be dead.

She soon snaps out of it, realizing that she’s still in the water and so is the driver. She dives down further. The first thing she notices is that the driver is out cold and the car, thanks to the hole in the windshield, is full of water. Her first instinct is to pry the roof off the damn thing like peeling open a can of tuna. She quickly realizes, however, that if the car is full of water, then the pressure is equalized and she can just open the car door.

And so she does.

She quickly pulls the driver to safety. When she lays him down onto the riverbank, he isn’t breathing, and she can’t help but flash back to Emily and the way she’d desperately tried to bring her back.

Desperately tried, and failed.

But this time, Clara knows CPR. She’s taken first aid classes and knows exactly what to do.

She starts chest compressions and even x-rays his chest to make sure she’s not going too hard and breaking his ribs. Once she’s done 30 chest compressions, she gently tips his head back to open his airway and then pinches his nose and presses her mouth to his to give rescue breaths.

“Come on, come on!” she pleads as she resumes chest compressions. “Don’t die on me!”

She doesn’t know what she’ll do if this man dies too.

Thankfully, he turns his head and coughs up the river water, before opening his eyes with a wince. Clara doesn’t bother to hide her sigh of relief.

He’s alive. He’s alive. She didn’t fail this time.

Once he stops coughing, he flops back down and blinks. He stares at her with an expression she can’t quite place.

“I could’ve sworn I hit you.”

The urge to deny anything strange about her is instinctive, even if she isn’t comfortable with lying. Clara looks behind her at the mangled railing to give herself time to think up a response.

“If you did, I’d be dead.”

He has no reply to that.

There’s a cut on his cheek and he’s wet through. Although Clara doesn’t feel the chill, it’s October and she knows he must be freezing. She helps him sit up and wrings out her jacket as much as she can, before putting it around his shoulders. Since it’s a hand me down from her dad, it’s more than big enough for him.

He tries to protest, but she ignores it. Instead, she looks back up at the bridge.

“I’m going to get some help. Stay here,” she tells him firmly before she hurriedly runs back up to the bridge to flag for some assistance.

***

Clara could’ve easily made her own way home, but knowing it would look suspicious, she instead lets the State Troopers call her home and allows the EMTs to drape her with a red blanket.

She hopes her parents won’t be too alarmed by the call.

She should’ve known better.

“Clara!” Jonathan calls out, his voice panicked as he skids down to the riverbank. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, dad,” she reassures him, even as he frantically looks her over before pulling her into a tight hug. “I wasn’t in the accident.”

“Who’s the maniac that was driving that car?” he demands of the nearest State Trooper.

“That would be me,” the driver says. Despite being wet and also covered with a red blanket, he looks no less striking. He extends his hand. “Lex Luthor.”

From the way he looks as he says his name, she knows he’s expecting a reaction. After all, everyone knows of the Luthors, the rich billionaires of LuthorCorp who own or employ half the state. But she’s too relieved he’s not dead, that she’s managed to save him, to react.

Her father, on the other hand, sours even further and blatantly ignores the proffered hand.

“Dad,” she admonishes quietly at his rudeness. She takes the hand before Lex can drop it. “I’m Clara, and this is my dad, Jonathan Kent.”

“Thank you for saving my life, Clara. I’m incredibly grateful.”

She shrugs, feeling rather awkward. “I was just in the right place at the right time. I’m sure you would have done the same thing.”

His hand is cool in hers, and she automatically starts to rub his hand between her warm ones, trying to warm it up. It’s something she’s done a million different times for her mom and Chloe, since her hands are always warm. She only realizes what she’s doing when her dad makes an indignant noise and pulls her back, causing Lex’s hand to slip free from hers.

She’s beyond mortified and can’t make herself look up to see his reaction. She just about manages to garble out to the ground, “Sorry about that. Force of habit.”

Her father thankfully saves her from the awkward situation by putting his jacket around her shoulders and leading her away.

Lex turns to Jonathan. “You have quite an extraordinary daughter there, Mr. Kent. If there is any way I can repay you-”

Jonathan turns towards him. “Drive slower,” he says rather belligerently, before once again leading Clara up to his truck.

Despite still feeling embarrassed, she can’t just let that incivility be. Yes Lex was speeding, but the accident is only partially his fault – he would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been for that metal coil on the road. So she turns back around.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Mr. Luthor,” she says as sincerely as she can.

The look of surprise quickly morphs into a smile. “It’s Lex, please.”

She nods. “Lex.”

“She’s underage,” Jonathan bites out.

Clara is horrified. “Dad! What’s wrong with you? Lex is just being nice!”

Thankfully, the workers manage to dredge the car up from the bottom of the river just then, serving as a distraction from her humiliation. She winces as the water pours out of the hole in the windshield and the open driver’s side door. She shoots Lex a sympathetic – and apologetic – smile before turning back to where her dad is waiting none too patiently.

“Let’s go, dad.”

***

Jonathan isn’t pleased about her interactions with Lex, to say the least. Clara doesn’t understand what the big deal is, and when she tells her mother everything that had happened – except for having been hit by Lex’s car – Martha agrees that Jonathan had been excessively rude and unfair, and she makes Clara her favorite meal for dinner.

Naturally, Clara’s rescue of Lex is the hottest news in town. Several of her fellow students actually voluntarily approach her to ask her about it, and Chloe keeps trying to get her to give her an interview about the “incident” for an article in The Torch.

“It wasn’t a big deal, Chloe,” she insists. “I seriously just happened to be there when it happened. Anyone would’ve done the same thing.”

“I’m sure they would have,” Chloe says, her tone making it clear she doesn’t agree. “Still, saving the life of the infamous billionaire playboy Lex Luthor-”

Pete slams his locker shut hard enough that the loud bang causes the entire hallway to fall silent for a beat as they turn to stare at him before conversations slowly resume.

Chloe’s eyebrow rises in incredulity. “What’s your deal?”

Clara subtly shakes her head at Chloe before turning to Pete. “Lex isn’t his dad, Pete-”

He snorts. “Whatever. See you guys later.”

As Pete stalks off, Chloe stares at his back with a raised eyebrow before wordlessly turning to Clara. She pointedly stares at her until she gives in and explains.

“Years ago, Pete’s father and uncle sold their family company, Ross Creamed Corn, to Lionel Luthor, who, rather than revitalizing the company, turned it instead into a LuthorCorp fertilizer plant.”

When Chloe opens her mouth, Clara just sighs. “Don’t ask.”

And thankfully the bell rings just then, saving Clara from Chloe’s inquisition for at least the next hour.

***

Unwilling to sit on a school bus and subject herself to more stares and Chloe’s endless questions, Clara opts to slowly walk home. As she’s making her way up to the house, she sees a brand new bright blue convertible with a gigantic purple bow on the hood.

Spotting Martha climbing out of the tractor, Clara calls out, “Hey mom! Whose convertible is it?”

Martha’s smile is strained. “Yours,” she says dryly. “It’s a gift from Lex Luthor.”

Her jaw drops in shock. “What?”

Martha pulls a card out of her pocket and passes it to her. The front of the envelope has intertwined Ls embossed on it, which she can’t help but run her thumb over. It’s the fanciest card she’s ever seen, though she supposes having such monogrammed cards and envelopes at his disposal is nothing to a man of Lex’s wealth.

Clara opens the envelope and pulls out a purple card. She can’t help but smile as she reads it out loud. “Dear Clara. Drive safely. Always in your debt. A maniac in a Porsche.”

Laughing, she turns back to her mother who is watching her speculatively.

“This is awesome. Where are the keys?”

“Your father has them.”

Clara winces. “Of course he does.” She sighs, knowing there’s no way he’d let her keep the car. She wonders if it’s worth arguing over.

Staring at the convertible, Clara can just imagine the looks of envy she’d get as she drives up to school in it the next day. She would be the first one in their class to have her own car. She could give rides to Chloe and Pete, and she’d even be able to go to Granville without having to wait for the family truck to be available. For the first time in her life, she would be just like a normal teenager.

Straightening her spine, she follows the sound of the wood chipper to around the far side of the barn. Jonathan spots her before she can even wave hello. He turns off the machine and pulls off his ear protectors and safety glasses.

“I know how much you want it, sweetheart. But you can’t keep it.”

As he walks past her, Clara follows. “Why? It’s not like I asked for a reward or was expecting one. But since he’s already bought me a car, what’s so wrong with keeping it?”

“You don’t want to owe the Luthors anything.” He tugs off his gloves, his abrupt motions making his agitation obvious. “Do you remember Mr. Bell? We used to go swimming on his property. How about Mr. Guy? He used to send us pumpkins every Halloween. Well, Lionel Luthor promised to cut them in on a deal. He sent them flashy gifts.” Jonathan twirls the car keys around his finger as though that’s proof. “Only once they sold him their property, he went back on his word. He had them evicted. The Luthors aren’t the altruistic type, Clara.”

“How can you judge Lex for what his father did?” she says indignantly.

Jonathan sighs. “That’s not what I’m doing, Clara. I just want to make sure you know where the money came from that bought that car.”

Clara shoots him a look filled with disbelief. “Yeah, right,” she says with as much sarcasm as she can muster. Considering his behavior towards Lex thus far, she highly doubts that’s all he’d been trying to say.

“I know you’re upset, Clara-”

She ignores him as she storms away.

***

The dinner that evening is tense, to say the least. Even as Jonathan acts as though nothing is wrong, Clara remains stubbornly silent, and Martha can only get monosyllabic answers from her.

As soon as she’s done eating, Clara heads up to the loft. Though she tries to seek peace by looking through her telescope at the stars, she finds herself having trouble sitting still, let alone enjoying the view of the night sky. Deciding she needs to get away for a while, she heads into the woods with a burst of speed.

Clara hasn’t been wandering around long when she hears a familiar voice.

“Who’s there?”

Surprised, she steps forward. “It’s me, Clara.”

“Clara?” Lana looks taken aback. “What are you doing creeping around the woods?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, and decides to walk away before she starts to feel ill.

“Clara, wait!” Lana heads towards her, and she braces for the nausea to hit. When she surprisingly feels fine even when Lana is a mere foot away, for a brief moment she wonders if this is yet another new ability. Just then, she sees that Lana isn’t wearing the meteor rock necklace.

“No wonder,” she mutters under her breath, and refuses to acknowledge the disappointment she feels.

Lana looks concerned. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here. Are you okay?”

Too exasperated by everything, a snort comes out before Clara can even think to censor herself, and a retort swiftly follows. “I’m hanging out in a graveyard. Does this strike you as okay behavior?”

“Hey, I’m here too.”

She nods. “Good point. What’s your story?”

Lana bites her lip. “Can you keep a secret?”

Clara’s smile is bitter. “I’m the Fort Knox of secrets.”

Lana slowly nods. “I came out here to talk to my parents.” She turns away. “You must think I’m pretty weird. Here’s Lana, conversing with dead people.”

Clara swallows roughly and shakes her head. “I don’t think you’re weird, Lana.”

Lana smiles at her before gesturing at a tombstone. “Mom, dad, this is Clara.”

She awkwardly waves, and Lana laughs. This is the longest they’ve spoken in years, and it’s over the Langs’ grave. Clara thinks there’s some kind of tragic irony in that.

“Yeah, she is kind of shy,” Lana says to the gravestone, startling Clara from her morbid thoughts.

“How should I know?” she says after a beat, before turning to Clara. “Mom wants to know if you’re upset about a guy.”

Clara shakes and ducks her head.

“Dad wants to know if you’re upset about a girl.”

She laughs. “No.”

“He has a twisted sense of humor,” Lana confesses with a smile, before sighing. “Seriously Clara, why are you out here?”

Clara fidgets with the ends of her hair before looking away. “You ever feel like your life was supposed to be different?”

Lana slowly nods. “Sometimes I dream I’m at school, waiting for Nell to pick me up. But she doesn’t come, so my parents drive up. They’re not dead, they’re just really late. Then I get in their car and we drive back to my real life in Metropolis. That’s usually when I wake up. But for a minute, I’m totally happy, until I realize I’m still alone.”

Clara can’t speak for the longest moment, too choked up to say a word. But this isn’t about her, it’s about Lana. So she takes a deep breath and gathers herself together.

“What’s that, Mrs. Lang?”

Lana slowly looks over at her.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll tell her.” Clara turns and meets her dark eyes. “Your mom wants you to know that you’re never alone. That she’s always watching over you, no matter what.”

Lana stares at her in wonder.

“What’s that, Mr. Lang?” When Lana smiles, she says, “Your dad thinks you’re a shoe-in for the homecoming queen.”

Lana laughs at that. “Thanks, Clara.”

“They’re quite chatty, once you get them started.”

She turns back to the tombstone. “Bye Mr. and Mrs. Lang. It was great talking to you. Bye Lana.”

“Clara, wait.” Lana inhales deeply before sighing. “I’ve really been unfair to you since… Well, for a long time. And I’m sorry.”

Clara quickly shakes her head. “It’s okay. I get it. Emily was… she was your best friend, and I couldn’t save her.”

Lana’s eyes widen in dismay. “Saving her wasn’t your responsibility, Clara. We were just kids.” She sighs once again. “The truth is, the person I was most mad at was myself, but I took it out on you because it was easier. And that- that wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Clara, truly,” she confesses, before shooting her a tentative smile. “I know it might be too late, but I hope we can be friends again.”

Clara is too delighted at the prospect of a possible dream coming true to even think of holding a grudge or not forgiving Lana. Her answering smile is nearly blinding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

Beyond a few startled glances, hardly anyone says anything when Lana and Clara hang out together the next day. But then again, being the kind and friendly person that she is, Lana is known to befriend the outcasts and losers of Smallville High, and though it’s Clara Kent this time, most everyone just attributes it to her good nature.

Lana is trying to convince Clara to come to the homecoming dance when a fellow freshman, Russell Burton, comes up to them.

“Hey Clara, want to go to the homecoming dance with me?”

To say Clara is surprised would be an understatement. Not only is this the very first time she’s ever been asked out by anyone, but she doesn’t think she and Russell have exchanged a single word to each other before. Plus Russell is shorter than she is, and while she doesn’t care, she knows guys have a complex about that sort of thing.

Still, she can’t help but be flattered to even be asked, especially because she knows Russell has better options than her. He may not exactly be the most popular guy around, but he’s got a few friends and is cute enough that even several of the cheerleaders would’ve happily said yes to him.

When Lana discretely pokes her, Clara snaps out of it. “Uh, sure,” she finds herself saying.

“Great! I’ll meet you outside the gym before the dance, okay?”

Clara can’t do anything but nod, still too shocked to say anything.

As Lana happily chatters about how great the homecoming dance is going to be, Chloe hurries up to them.

“What did Russell want?” she demands.

“He asked her to go to the homecoming dance with him!” Lana happily tells her before Clara can even open her mouth.

“And what did you say?” Chloe asks impatiently.

“I said yes.”

Chloe veritably squeals. “Okay, we have to go shopping-”

Lana’s face lights up. “We can go to Metropolis, to the same store where I got my dress! They have tons of dresses there – we’ll be able to find one that fits you for sure!”

What little enthusiasm Clara has been feeling dies. There’s a reason why she wears hand-me-downs from her father, after all, and it isn’t because she likes wearing baggy and ill-fitting clothes. Although she has the strength and speed to easily do the work of all of their farmhands and save her parents money, the fact is it would be impossible for a normal human and his daughter to run the Kent Farm all by themselves. Even with her mother selling organic produce and her baked goods, they’re barely making ends meet. There is no way they’ll be able to afford a dress from a store in Metropolis.

Surprisingly, however, both of her parents fully support her shopping trip with Chloe and Lana, and Martha even offers to drive the three of them to Metropolis. Clara can’t help but think that a large part of it has to do with how guilty they feel for making her return the car, but she’s just too happy to finally be getting a pretty new dress that might actually fit her that she can’t say no.

As she drives over to the Luthor Mansion, Clara makes sure to savor the experience. The convertible handles and feels so much better than their old family truck, and she wishes not for the first time that she could keep the car.

She can see the mansion well before she’s on the private road. It’s huge and more like a medieval castle, and while it’s stately and beautiful, it’s also very clearly out of place in Lowell County. Lionel Luthor is obviously not much for subtlety.

When Clara gets to the gate, she realizes it’s locked and that no one’s around to let her in. She tries the buzzer again, but there’s no response. After making sure that nothing and no one is around to see her, she bends the bars until there’s enough room for her to wiggle through between them. Once she straightens them out again, she makes the long trek up to the mansion. Since the mansion is in the outskirts of Smallville in a heavily wooded area, Lex will be afforded absolute seclusion, and as it’s set far enough back from the road, there’ll be little chance of noise disturbing him.

She can’t help but think it’s a lonely kind of place.

Once Clara is at the front door, she rings the bell. When there’s no answer, she tries knocking a few times, with enough force that the door shakes in its frame, but there’s still no response. She almost wants to go back home with the car since she really did try and return it, but knowing how her father would react, she tries the doorknob. She’s surprised to find that the door is unlocked.

“Hello?” she calls out as she hesitantly steps over the threshold, but once again is only greeted with silence. She doesn’t want to wander around someone else’s home uninvited, but she can’t just leave the car keys somewhere and hope Lex finds it. Besides, he deserves an explanation for why she’s returning his generous gift.

When her second, “Hello?” merits no response, Clara switches to using her x-ray vision. Spotting two skeletons sparring with swords, she heads in their direction, passing one deserted hallway after another. Despite the sunlight streaming in through the windows and the ceiling lamps being lit, the mansion is still rather eerie, with no one around and everything still draped in white sheets.

When she turns at the next corner, she sees the fencing duo actually decked out in full body white outfits. She watches as the smaller of the two backs the other into the wall and score a hit.

“Enough!” a female voice calls out before turning away.

In frustration at the loss, the other opponent – Lex, presumably – throws his sword across the room, to right where Clara is standing. She looks on in shock as the sword embeds itself into the paneling right by her head.

“Clara?” Lex says as he takes off his mask. His face is a picture of surprise. “I didn’t see you.”

Even knowing the sword couldn’t have really hurt her – if the way she could handle being hit by a car with nary a bruise to show for it is any indication – she still can’t help but glance at it nervously as it shakes from where it’s embedded in the wall.

As Lex approaches to retrieve his sword, she explains, “Yeah. Sorry. I, uh, buzzed but no one answered. I wouldn’t have let myself in, but I wanted to. Um.”

“How’d you get through the gate?”

Clara steals a wary glance at the pointy end of the sword that seems a little too close to her as Lex pulls it free.

“I kinda squeezed through the bars,” she says, and quickly adds, “If this is a bad time-”

“Oh, no, no,” he says, walking back to the woman and tossing her his mask before placing the sword on the cloth covered table. “I think Hykia has sufficiently kicked my ass for the day.”

Clara looks around the room. The wood paneling is pretty, but the animal heads mounted on the walls seem really tacky. She’s never understood people’s desires to display a trophy of their kills, and it seems even more out of place here as she gets the feeling that Lex isn’t exactly an avid hunter.

“This is a…” She tries to find a nice compliment, and ends with, “Quite a place you got here.” She inwardly winces at her lameness.

As Lex walks past her, he shoots her a wry smile. “Yeah, it’s a great place if you’re dead and in the market for something to haunt.”

“Well, at least it’s roomy,” she points out as she trails after him. “You have plenty of floor space to work with.”

“It’s the Luthor ancestral home, or so my father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland stone by stone.”

Clara shakes her head. “Rich people sure are nuts,” she mutters.

When Lex bursts out laughing, she realizes she’s said the words out loud. Looking horrified, she quickly says, “Oh my god, I am so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s totally true. Rich people are crazy, my father most of all.”

Not sure how to take that and hoping to move the conversation to safer waters, she says, “I remember trucks rolled through town for weeks but no one ever moved in.”

Lex stops where he’s part of the way up the stairs to the second floor and looks back at Clara. “My father had no intention of living here. He’s never even stepped through the front door.”

Clara’s brows furrow. “Then why’d he ship it over?”

“Because he could.”

At that simple statement, she can’t help but shake her head again. “Your father really is crazy.”

Lex grins at her, and he looks less like the rich and powerful heir of Lionel Luthor and new manager of Smallville Fertilizer Plant No. 3, and more like a mischievous young man. As they enter what looks like his personal gym, he shrugs out of his fencing jacket and grabs a fluffy white towel.

“How’s the new ride?”

“That’s why I’m here.” She doesn’t have to work to sound apologetic.

Lex tosses the jacket and places the towel around his neck. “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. I can’t keep it.”

He turns around at that and approaches her. “Clara, you saved my life. I think it’s the least I can do.”

She ducks her head at the earnest words. “It’s really sweet of you, Lex.”

His eyes widen at being called sweet, and his lips twitch. He swallows his pithy response and instead takes a deep breath. “Your father doesn’t like me, does he?”

Clara looks away, trying to come up with something to say that won’t be rude or offensive.

“It’s okay,” he says, forestalling her. He runs a hand over his head, long fingers skimming over his smooth scalp in what looks like an absent, familiar gesture. “I’ve been bald since I was 9. I’m used to people judging me before they get to know me.”

That’s certainly something with which Clara is unfortunately more than familiar.

“It’s nothing personal,” she tells him as reassuringly as she can. “He’s just not crazy about your dad.”

“Figures the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” He nods. “Understandable. What about you, Clara? Did you fall far from the tree?”

Clara looks away. “I wouldn’t know. I’m adopted.”

She fears she’s given the words more weight than she’d planned. She loves her parents and knows they love her – the fact that they’d adopted her when she’s an alien clearly proves that – but she’s always wondered about her biological parents, about why they’d given her away, and the questions have only grown louder since she’s learned the truth of her origins.

Roughly swallowing, she lifts the hand holding the keys and drops them into his palm. “I better go. Thanks for the car.”

“Clara,” Lex calls out before she can walk out the door. “Do you believe a man can fly?”

Brows furrowing, she quirks her lips. “Sure. In a plane.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about soaring through the clouds with nothing but air beneath you.”

Clara recalls her bouts of floating and can’t say anything in response.

“I flew. After the accident when my heart stopped. It was the most… exhilarating 2 minutes of my life.” Lex stares off into the distance. “I flew over Smallville, and for the first time, I didn’t see a dead end. I saw a new beginning.”

He turns to look at her and smiles. “Thanks to you, I have a second chance.”

She looks down, uncomfortable with such gratitude. She finally manages to say, “I’m glad you feel like you’re getting a fresh start, Lex.”

When she finally looks up, his gaze is intense as he stares into her eyes. “We have a future, Clara. And I don’t want anything to stand in the way of our friendship.”

She doesn’t quite know what to say to that. It seems ludicrous that a sophisticated billionaire wants to be her friend, especially after such a short, if memorable, encounter, but she also can’t deny that she feels drawn to Lex in a way that she hasn’t ever felt before with anyone else. She knows it’s not an infatuation – even if she thinks Lex looks striking and has charisma for days, she’s nursed attractions before and knows what they feel like. Her short-lived crush on Whitney had felt nothing like this, and actually rather pales in comparison.

Clara thinks maybe it’s because Lex wears his differences on the outside with such pride and carelessness that she envies.

Shooting him an awkward smile, she tells him, “See you around, Lex,” before she leaves.

***

If she’d thought saving Lex Luthor would be the most interesting event of her week, she’s quickly proven wrong.

“His name is Jeremy Creek,” Chloe tells her as soon as she enters the Torch office. She points to the high school yearbook photo of him. “This is a picture of him 12 years ago. And this,” she says, gesturing at the computer screen where there’s a photo of the same guy looking rather disheveled, “is one I took 4 hours ago outside the auto repair shop where the third former jock this week was found in a coma.”

“That’s impossible,” Clara points out. “He’d be like 26 today. Must be a kid who looks like him.”

“My money was on the evil twin theory til we checked missing persons,” Pete says, passing Clara the report.

“Jeremy disappeared from the state infirmary a few days ago where he’d been in a coma for 12 years. They say he suffered from massive electrolyte imbalance,” Chloe explains.

“That’s why he hasn’t aged a day,” Pete chimes in.

Clara looks at them skeptically. “So you’re telling me he just woke up 12 years later? Just like that?”

“Well no, there was a huge electrical storm. The hospital’s generator went down, and when it came back on, Jeremy was gone.”

Pete shrugs. “My guess is that the electricity must’ve charged him up like a Duracell.”

“But why is he back in Smallville putting former jocks into comas? You said Frank’s the third one this week, right?”

“Because 12 years ago, they chose Jeremy Creek as the scarecrow,” he explains.

Chloe hands Clara a newspaper clipping.

“Comatose boy found in field, 20 yards from meteor strike,” Clara reads out loud.

“The exposure to the blast must’ve done something to his body.”

Clara looks down, feeling a surge of guilt. “I have to go,” she says and rushes out, leaving Chloe and Pete to stare after her in confusion.

Before she can make her escape, however, she feels the unfortunately familiar nausea and dizziness overtake her. She looks around for Lana but doesn’t see her.

“You okay?” Whitney asks, seeing her hunched over.

She tries to smile reassuringly, but it mustn’t be enough since he comes closer. “Come on, you should sit down before you fall down.”

Being near him is only making her feel worse, and she realizes Whitney must have Lana’s necklace. Unfortunately, she doesn’t exactly have the strength to push him away. Thankfully the door to an empty classroom by them is open, and once Whitney helps her sit in a chair, he stands back far enough away that she doesn’t feel as ill.

Just as she’s about to reassure him that she’s okay, she hears her name.

“Kent? You asked Kent to the dance?” The unfamiliar voice sounds aghast, and the sheer incredulity in the words makes Clara wince.

“Relax, man. I only did it so I won’t be the scarecrow. I already asked Megan to go with me – I’m just going to pretend to go with Kent and then ditch her at the dance.”

Clara pales as the first speaker laughs.

“That’s cold. But why Kent? How’s that going to help you from becoming the scarecrow?”

“Didn’t you see her hanging out with Lana? No way Fordman will pick me if he thinks I’m going to the homecoming dance with the friend of his girlfriend.”

“Nicely done,” he congratulates Russell.

Whitney growls and he looks like he’s about to head out there and beat them both. Clara reaches forward and grabs onto the sleeve of his letterman jacket, even as it makes her feel even sicker.

“Don’t, okay? Not on my account. Besides, don’t you have a game to win soon?”

He looks at his watch and reluctantly nods.

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Whitney hesitates.

His concern is touching, and Clara does her best to smile at him. “Thanks Whitney, but I’ll be okay.”  

He stops before he leaves, and turns back around to face her. “Forget Russell, he’s an ass. You should still come tonight and have a good time with all your friends. If you do, save me a dance, okay?” He even winks at her for good measure before he heads out the door.

Realizing she’s staring after him rather wistfully, Clara shakes her head. She can’t afford to rekindle her crush. Yes he’s good-looking and nice, much nicer than she’d previously thought, but he’s with Lana. Not to mention, he would have absolutely no interest in her even if he were available.

She sighs dejectedly. She really should’ve known better. Russell, just like every other guy, had never once shown any interest in her before. Of course he only asked her to the homecoming dance because he had to, not because he liked her.

Clara thunks her head against the desk before wincing when she feels it crumble beneath her forehead. Thankfully, the dent is relatively minor. She tries to reassure herself that the dent to her pride is the same.

She can’t quite make herself believe that.    

***

With her parents gone to watch the homecoming game, Clara is able to cry in her room in peace. She knows she’s only letting Russell win by feeling sorry for herself, but she’s been looking forward to finally being a normal teenager for once and look pretty as she dances the night away.

It’s beyond devastating to know that it’s all crumbling around her.

By the time her parents return, she’s been able to get herself under control. And thanks to her freaky alien body, there’s no sign that she’s spent the better part of the afternoon bawling her eyes out.

“What time is Russell coming by to pick you up?” Jonathan asks, grinning. “Have to make sure he’s going to treat my little girl right.”

“Jonathan,” Martha says warningly, though the smile that curves her lips makes it clear she doesn’t meant it.

“Your mother insisted we stop in town and stock up on film,” he adds with a wink. “I’ll make sure she limits herself to only one roll so you’ll have plenty of time to make it to the dance.”

They look so happy for her that she can’t bear to shatter the illusion.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” she reassures them with as bright a smile as she can manage. “I’m just happy that I finally get to have a normal teenager experience, that’s all.”

“Oh honey,” Martha says, and gives her a quick hug.

“And he’s not coming to pick me up – I told him to meet me at the dance. I didn’t want him to be grilled by you,” she says as lightly as possible.

Jonathan mockingly scowls and teases her for ruining his fun.

Citing the need to shower and get ready, Clara makes her escape before she can give herself away. She leans against her closed bedroom door and gently thunks her head against it before sighing.

“What am I gonna do?”

***

Clara lets her mother apply some makeup and style her hair into a nice chignon for the occasion. After she puts on her brand new blue dress, she gives a twirl in front of her parents.

“So what do you think?”

Martha’s hand flies to her mouth. “Oh sweetheart, you look stunning,” she tells her with tears in her eyes.

Jonathan clears his throat. “My little girl is growing up. You’ll be the prettiest girl at the dance.”

Clara looks at herself in the mirror. For the first time, she thinks she actually does look pretty. Her hair is pulled back into an elegant up-do except for a few artful tendrils, which nicely frame her face. She’s barely wearing any makeup yet her eyes seem so much bigger and bluer, somehow. And she’s actually wearing something that fits and compliments her frame. To spare her dad’s sensibilities – and for her own comfort – her dress has a relatively high neckline, but because it fits her so well, the figure she’d hidden away beneath all the flannel is evident. The skirt is unfortunately not voluminous, but at least the slit in the leg allows her to move freely.

As she smiles at her reflection, she almost thinks the night won’t be so bad.

After more than a few photos are taken, her parents drop her off at the school. For a few minutes, Clara contemplates not going in. She can walk around the outskirts of Smallville instead and save herself the humiliation of being publically ditched by Russell. It isn’t as though anyone besides Chloe and Pete will notice she’s not at the homecoming dance, and she knows her parents won’t suspect anything as long as she returns home at the right hour. But she can’t help but picture Whitney’s wink, can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to dance in his arms. And so she takes a deep breath and enters.

There are more than a few double takes when the other students spot Clara, but as expected, she doesn’t get asked to dance. Despite not wearing heels, she’s still taller than most of the male students, and the nicer ones are too intimidated or fearful of being made fun of to ask her. She knows she can approach Chloe and Pete, but she doesn’t want to be the third wheel and ruin their night.

She finds herself leaning against the wall, watching as everyone dances and laughs and generally has a great time. She keeps a discrete eye on Whitney, hoping he’ll notice her and ask her to dance. But when all she gets are looks of pity and catty sneers from the other students, Clara can no longer bear the humiliation and decides to leave. Just as she’s turning around, Whitney sees her, and with a quick word to Lana, he heads her way.

“Hey Clara!”

She can feel her face flush. She’s trying to come up with something witty and cool to say when there’s a loud feedback. They all turn to look at the makeshift stage, and Clara realizes with a sinking feeling in her gut that they’re about to crown the homecoming king and queen.

“Sorry Clara. Another time, yeah?” Whitney says before hurrying back to Lana’s side.

Mortified and crushed, Clara leaves. As she nears the doors, she hears Megan complaining to her friend.

“I can’t believe Russell ditched me without a single word!” she spits out, seething with anger. “See if I give that spineless worm another chance!”

Clara realizes just then that she hasn’t seen Russell all night. If he’s not with Megan or at the dance, then…  

As soon as she’s out of sight, she speeds over to Riley Field. As she’d thought, she finds Russell tied to a stake, naked except for his boxers.

Russell looks stunned to see her, before his expression morphs into one of guilt. Though he doesn’t ask her to help him get down, she unties the ropes anyway, because as much as she wishes for him to get his just desserts, he doesn’t deserve to be left out here like this.

She doesn’t say a word to him though. She can’t. Everything she wants to say will only make her more vulnerable.

“It never changes,” comes a voice to her left.

She sees a sickly looking teen in a sweatshirt. “You- you’re Jeremy,” she stutters.

“I thought if I punished them it would stop. But it never stops.”

When he starts to walk away, she hurriedly finishes untying the ropes.

“Wait, where are you going?” she calls out after him, even as she helps Russell get down.

“Homecoming dance. I never made it to mine.”

Seeing that Russell has his clothes nearby, she leaves him to get dressed and instead chases after Jeremy.

She finally catches sight of him as he’s opening up the school’s sprinkler system. “Jeremy, you need to stop this.”

He’s clearly surprised at her sudden appearance. “I don’t know how you got here, but you should’ve stayed away.”

“I won’t let you hurt my friends,” she warns him.

He snorts. “Those people in there aren’t your friends!” His smile is eerie and Clara knows without a doubt that he’s out of his mind. “The sprinklers will get them nice and wet, then I’ll handle the rest.”

“They never did anything to you,” she insists.

“I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing this for him, and for you, and for all the others like us.”

Clara shakes her head. “What happened to you… It was my fault. I can understand your pain-”

“I’m not in pain! I have a gift, and a purpose, and a destiny!”

Jeremy turns back around but Clara uses her speed to get in front of him again.

“So do I.”

He looks startled, but he determinedly reaches out and attempts to electrocute her. Shocked at the feel of electricity running through her, she flings him away from her and he crashes onto a truck parked nearby. Breathing heavily, Jeremy gets back up and glares at her furiously.

“Give it up, Jeremy.”

In response, he touches the hood of the truck, and the electricity from his hand starts the engine. He gets in and rams the truck into Clara.

“What am I, a crash test dummy?” she mutters to herself as she braces her hands against the hood of the car.

Jeremy attempts to shake her off, but when she still clings on, he decides to smash her through the wall. Unfortunately for him, the wall he picks has an emergency water main attached to it, and when she and the car crash through the wall, the pipe bursts and starts leaking water into the truck.

He attempts to get out, but the driver’s side door is butted up against the intact section of the wall, and he can’t open the door. Before Clara can help, electricity runs through the truck and he electrocutes himself.

Clara pulls the truck forward until the door is clear, and opens it. There’s electricity running all along Jeremy’s body, but it quickly dissipates. His eyes open and he looks up at her in confusion.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“I’m Clara, and you’re in Smallville.”

Jeremy looks stunned and weak. Vulnerable. “I want to go home,” he says plaintively.

She says as kindly as she can, “Of course. I’ll make sure you get home.”

***

After it’s all over, Clara peeks into the gym. Clearly no one’s heard anything since they’re all still dancing and having a great time. In the middle of everyone are Lana and Whitney, with crowns on their heads and swaying beautifully together. Clara looks down at herself and she can see that her dress is no longer pristine, caked with dirt and dust and even torn in some places. She stares enviously at Lana in her pink strapless voluminous skirt dress, looking like a perfect princess. As Whitney leans down to kiss her, Clara leaves.

Unwilling to brave questions about why she’s back so early – or explain about Jeremy and her fight with him – she decides to take the long way home.

Hearing a car approaching from behind her, Clara stops to let it pass. Except it pulls over, and she raises her hand to shield her eyes from the headlights.

“Clara? What are you doing, walking alone at this time of the night?”

“Lex!”

He stares at her, and she winces at the ridiculous picture she must make. No doubt that on top of her mangled dress, her hair is an unruly mess and her makeup is completely smudged.

“What happened? Shouldn’t you be at the homecoming dance?”

Clara shoots him a brittle smile. “Decided to leave early.”

“Did something happen?” Lex’s voice is careful. “Did someone do this to you?”

For a moment, she wonders how Lex knows of Jeremy, before she realizes just what he’s thinking. “Oh no! No, I’m fine!”

Seeing his concerned expression, she assures him, “Really, nothing like that happened, Lex.”  

Lex nods slowly, but he doesn’t look entirely assuaged. Clara sighs before admitting, “A guy who asked me to the dance stood me up. He never intended to go with me and was just playing a cruel joke. I just had a klutz attack while running away, that’s all.”

“What’s his name?”

Clara’s lips twitch. “Don’t worry, he’s already suffered enough.”

“I doubt that’s possible,” he says gravely. “Even so, you should have gotten your revenge by having a great time and rubbing it in his face.”

She sighs. “Fat chance of that happening when no one asks you to dance.”

Lex’s eyebrow quirks up in surprise. “Well, the boys of Smallville High must be blind.”

She scoffs in disbelief.

He tilts his head and looks at her for a beat, before nodding. He turns on the radio in his car, and changes stations until he finds one that’s playing a slow ballad.

“May I have this dance?”

Clara’s eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

Lex extends his hand. “A dance. It would be my pleasure.”

“I’m a mess. I’m going to get your undoubtedly expensive clothes dirty,” she warns him, even as a flare of hope rises in her chest.

He only smiles. “You’re beautiful.”

She knows he’s just being kind – there’s no way she looks even passable in her current state – but realizing that he’s serious about wanting to dance with her, she tentatively places her hand in his. He pulls her in close and they slowly sway to the music.

It’s the first time she’s danced with anyone – since dances with her father don’t count – and she can’t help but blush. She thinks no one’s ever had as romantic a first dance as hers, and she desperately hopes she doesn’t step on Lex’s toes and ruin it.

“I hope this helps make up for tonight,” he says softly.

Clara looks up. He’s taller than her, one of the few people who are, and his eyes are kind.

“Thank you, Lex,” she whispers.

And they continue to sway.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Clara is flying over Smallville, luxuriating in the feeling of freedom as she looks down from above. Her fear of heights is absent, allowing her to just enjoy the wind in her hair as she soars above the clouds. Suddenly, she sees the Luthor Mansion just up ahead, and there’s a window that’s been left open for her. She flies through it and she finds herself in a bedroom – specifically, Lex’s bedroom. Seeing him sleeping on the bed, she floats over. She slowly drifts down until she’s floating mere inches above him.

Lex opens his eyes and his lips quirk into a smile when he sees her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, before he pulls her down. Just as his lips are about to touch hers--

“Clara!” Martha calls from downstairs, waking her up and causing her to crash down onto the bed. Again. “Clara, we’re leaving for the farmer’s market in 15 minutes and you haven’t done your chores yet!”

Clara covers her face with her pillow and groans.

***

As Clara helps her parents set up their booth in the farmer’s market, she tries desperately to not think about the slow dance she’d enjoyed with Lex last night or her dream this morning. She knows he has absolutely zero interest in her – why would he, when he dates supermodels and actresses and other gorgeous women as far away from a bumbling teenager as one can get?

“He was just trying to be nice,” she reminds herself under her breath as she picks up the sign – Kent Organic Produce. After making sure no one is watching, she puts it up by pushing the nail through the post with her thumb.

As she’s waiting for her parents, she feels the familiar stirrings of nausea. When she looks up, Lana and Whitney are approaching, Lana once more wearing her necklace.

“Clara, I didn’t see Russell at the dance last night. Was everything okay?”

“Oh, he was…” she shoots Whitney a loaded look. “A little tied up.” She clears her throat. “And I wasn’t feeling too well.”

Clearly she must not look that great since Lana readily believes her. “Hope you feel better soon.”

“I’m sorry we didn't get to dance together,” Whitney says, his expression clearly betraying his discomfort.

Thankfully her parents return just then, allowing Clara to subtly back away from Lana. Jonathan goes directly over to Whitney when he sees him.

“Congratulations Whitney. That was one heck of a game. I haven’t seen an offense that good since I played.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kent,” Whitney says with a proud smile.

Eager to get away from the meteor rock, Clara tells her parents, “I’m going to get the rest of the boxes out of the truck.”

She’s pulling out said boxes one at a time – and making sure it looks like it takes her a lot of effort to do so – when she sees Whitney and Russell having what looks like an intense conversation. Neither of them seems happy, and the topic of conversation is made clear when Whitney points at her. To Clara’s surprise, Russell reluctantly heads her way.  

Rubbing the back of his neck, Russell mumbles, “Look, about last night… I wanted to thank you. You had every reason to just leave me hanging there, but you didn’t.”

Clara doesn’t bother to reply.

“I know it’s a shitty excuse, but I just wanted to not be the scarecrow, you know? It didn’t matter to me that I’d be hurting you.” Russell exhales sharply, then rushes out, “I’m sorry. And thanks for helping me when I certainly didn’t deserve it. You’re a far better person than I am. I owe you one, okay?”

Russell nearly flees when he finishes, and Whitney looks over at her as though to make sure she’s okay. Clara blushes at the way he’s being protective of her.

“I suppose I can’t knock your taste,” Lex says as he comes up to stand beside her. Clara quickly turns away from Whitney, though staring at Lex isn’t much better. He’s in a suit without a tie, and that’s definitely a look she can get behind. “Though a quarterback? Kind of clichéd for you, no?”

“It’s not like that.”

The look Lex shoots her makes it clear he doesn’t believe her. “So was the guy fleeing like the very hounds of hell were chasing after him the asshole who stood you up?”

She sighs. “He apologized. Anyway, I just want to forget it ever happened.”

“Hey Clara, what’s the hold up?” Jonathan calls out as he approaches.

“Mr. Kent, it’s good to see you.” Lex offers his hand, and this time, Jonathan takes it.

“Lex.” His greeting could almost be considered friendly. Almost. He turns back to Clara before pulling the heaviest boxes over and lifting them. “Come on, we’ve got to finish up.”

“Okay dad,” she says, and he watches them for a beat before walking away.

“At least I got a handshake this time,” Lex remarks.

Clara smiles before catching herself. Looking for a distraction, she picks up a red apple and hands it to him.

“Here, have an apple,” she says, before hefting the last box and following after Jonathan.

Lex stares after her for a beat before taking a bite of the apple.

***

The farmer’s market is a longstanding tradition in Smallville, and nearly the entire town turns up for it. They even occasionally get visitors from out of town, which can be exciting.

This time, the only new face is Lex, and he does a slow and thorough circuit of all the booths. Clara doubts there’s anything of interest to Lex – despite her hometown pride, she knows none of the wares the shopkeepers of Smallville are selling have the quality and sophistication a man like him no doubt prefers. Still, he appears to be buying a few things here and there.  

Their stand is his last stop, and Clara can’t help but grin at him when he approaches. “Hey Lex.”

He returns her smile with his own before turning to Jonathan. “Mr. Kent. And this must be Mrs. Kent. I’m Lex Luthor. It’s great to meet you.”

Martha gives him her polite, public smile. “Hello Lex.”

“I would like to place an order.”

“You haven’t even looked at our produce,” Jonathan says with a frown.

“Actually, Clara offered me an apple earlier, and it was delicious.”

“Well, thank you, Lex,” Martha replies, and her smile becomes more genuine and pleased. “So apples then? How many would you like?”

“I’ll take everything, actually, not just the apples.”

Martha gapes in surprise. “That’s quite generous.”

He shoots her a small smirk. “On the contrary, I’ll need all the produce I can get. I have a cook who’s intent on feeding me, and a full complement of staff who live on site. In fact, I should probably make this a standing order.”

Jonathan frowns as he leans forward rather aggressively. “Actually, Lex, we do have other customers-”

“Are you sure you’d rather not try our produce first?” Martha interjects. “It is a lot, Lex.”

“If they’re as good as your apples, then I know I am getting an excellent deal.”

Jonathan once again opens his mouth, but Martha steps on his foot and he closes it with a snap. “Well, thank you, Lex. Would you like it delivered to the mansion?”

“Yes please. Thank you, Mrs. Kent, Mr. Kent. And see you around, Clara.”

With a nod, Lex leaves the farmer’s market.

“Well,” Martha says, her eyes wide.

“I can’t believe you were about to say no to Lex, dad. What’s your problem? This is great!” Smiling happily, Clara hurriedly starts to pack up to leave.    

Jonathan only scowls.

For the first time, the Kents are the earliest ones to leave the farmer’s market. A few puzzling glances are thrown their way, but word quickly spreads of their good fortune, and most others offer them sincere congratulations, though a few frown in jealousy.

As they’re driving home, Clara sighs at the look on her father’s face.

“This is a good thing, dad,” she reminds him again.

He grimaces, clearly displeased with the whole thing.

She scowls. “I don’t get why you don’t like Lex. He hasn’t done anything. He’s friendly and respectful, and his-”

“Oh my god, Jonathan!” Martha breathes out, having spotted a truck that’s been flipped on its side.

Clara doesn’t even wait for the car to stop before she runs towards the truck, which she recognizes as Whitney’s. Jonathan grabs a fire extinguisher from the back when he sees that the truck has caught on fire.

“Whitney!” Clara calls out, but he’s unconscious. She wastes no time pulling him out.

“Clara!” Jonathan yells in warning, but it’s too late. The truck explodes and flames engulf Clara.

“Clara! Clara! CLARA!”

Once the smoke clears, to the Kents’ immense relief, they can see that both Clara and Whitney are alive and okay. Clara’s curled around Whitney, clearly having shielded him with her body, but she doesn’t appear to be harmed in any way. The only evidence that they’d been engulfed in an inferno mere seconds earlier is the fact that the back of Clara’s jacket is beyond saving.

The Kents run towards them and when Martha throws her arms around Clara in sheer relief and joy, her jacket sleeve catches fire where her arm touches Clara’s back.

“Martha!” Jonathan cries out in alarm.

“Mom!” Clara echoes.

She pulls back and quickly removes her jacket before tossing it far away. Jonathan tugs up her sleeves and thoroughly examines her arm, but since she’s wearing several layers, she’s fine.

Even as Clara sighs with relief, Jonathan and Martha exchange worried glances with each other.

***

The entire ride home, Martha keeps a tight hold of Clara’s hand. Only when Clara goes to shower to remove the stench of smoke does she let go.

By the time Clara gets dressed and comes back downstairs, Jonathan is on the phone and Martha is busy baking in the kitchen.

“Whitney’s gonna be all right. He’s got a couple of cuts and bruises but nothing serious,” Jonathan tells them once he hangs up the phone.

“Does he remember anything?” Clara asks, worrying her lip.

He shakes his head. “No. Just that something smashed his truck and he woke up in the ambulance.”

Clara stills Martha’s hands before she can start to prepare another batch of piecrusts. “I’m sorry I freaked you guys out.”

“Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. We’re just so glad you’re all right. Yes we’re worried and concerned, but we’re your parents. Worrying about you is in our job description.” Martha pulls back and looks into Clara’s eyes. “Your father and I are so proud of you.”

“Thanks mom, dad.”

“C’mere,” Jonathan says gruffly before he draws them both into a tight hug.

***

“Knock knock,” Lex says as he enters the quarterback’s hospital room with flowers and a “Get Well Soon” balloon. “Lex Luthor. Is this a bad time?”

Eyes wide with surprise, Whitney hurriedly sits up. “No, no, of course not, Mr. Luthor. I’m Whitney, Whitney Fordman, but you probably already know that – I mean, you would have to, to find my room-” He clears his throat, putting an end to the nervous babbling. “So what brings you here? I mean, not that I’m not glad to meet you-”

“Nell’s a friend and she asked me to drop these off for her,” Lex says, before carelessly placing them on a rolling table. “Plus I wanted to meet the other person saved by Clara Kent.”

Whitney nods. “I’m lucky Clara was there.”

“I know the feeling,” Lex says self deprecatingly. “Must make you wonder if you’re with the right girl. One cheers, the other saves lives.”

Whitney frowns. Despite his desire to not piss off the owner of the Metropolis Sharks, he can’t let that stand. “Lana’s more than just a cheerleader. And for someone who just moved into town, you’re certainly free with your opinion on matters that don’t concern you.”

Lex shrugs. “Thought you just seemed more interesting than that. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re happy being just a jock dating a cheerleader.”  

After a pause, Lex shoots him a smirk. “Hope you feel better soon.”

With that, he leaves the hospital and a confused Whitney behind.

***

Although delivering produce orders is one of Clara’s responsibilities, Jonathan insists he take the order to the Luthor Mansion himself. Martha thankfully vetoes the suggestion, however, and so Clara happily makes her way there.

This time, the mansion is fully staffed. They open the gate for her and are waiting when she drives up. As she hands over the produce, Mrs. Palmer gives her a check before her husband leads her to a room to wait for Lex.

The clear centerpiece of the room is a model of an ancient city, which even includes tiny soldiers, horses, and ships. The details on all the pieces are exquisite, and although Clara has never been one for dolls – she’s always preferred stuffed animals as they are less likely to break and easier to fix than plastic – she’s always wanted Legos to play with, except they’d been too expensive.   She can’t help but feel envious of a young Lex who’d undoubtedly gotten to play with this huge toy set. She wants to pick up the models and examine them closely, but she knows better than to touch anything lest she break it.

“Save any lives on the way over?” Lex quips as he leans against the doorjamb. “Keep it up and you could make a career out of it.”

Clara can’t help the embarrassed – and flattered – smile that curls her lips at that. “I was just dropping off your produce. Sorry my dad tried to give you a hard time.”

Lex smirks. “Ah, if push came to shove, I would have arm-wrestled him for it.”

She laughs, and she has a feeling it’s a little too loud. She clears her throat. “Anyway, are you planning an invasion?”

He looks down at the model. “My father gave this to me when I was 9.”

“It’s a cool gift,” she says admiringly.

“It wasn’t a gift. It was a strategy tool.”

When Clara looks at him in confusion, he explains, “My father equates business with war.”

Before Clara can react to that, he gestures at the model. “This is the battle of Troy. It started because two people were in love with the same person. Sound familiar?”

She sighs. “I’m not in love with Whitney. Besides, if I were in a war with Lana, she’s pretty much won since they’re already in a relationship.”

“You lost one battle, Clara, that’s all. Besides, you pulled him out of that truck and saved his life. That can create some powerful ties – and I speak from personal experience.”

Clara swallows and forces herself to ignore that. She’s only hearing what she wants to hear – she knows he only means it as the reason for the existence of their friendship. Once she thinks she can speak without giving anything away, she makes herself meet his gaze.

“Lex, I promise you, I’m not pining for Whitney. He’s the captain of the football team and the whole town treats him like a god, yet he was still trying to look out for me, a nobody. So I was just appreciative, that’s all.”

“You’re not a nobody, Clara,” Lex tells her. The sincerity in his tone makes her blush, and she looks away.

“Anyway, if you change your mind, I’ve got your Trojan horse.” He pulls out an envelope from his jacket pocket. “My family owns the Metropolis Sharks and I have two tickets for the skybox next Sunday. A call from me and you and a guest will be able to meet with the coaches and the players. They’re yours to do with as you please – but I’d be highly disappointed if you don’t take your quarterback with you.”

Clara staunchly ignores the last bit. “Lex, that’s so nice of you, but I can’t take that.”

He looks exasperated. “What is it about Kents and gifts?” He thrusts the envelope at her. “It’s yours. Invite Whitney. Trust me, you’ll win him. This access you have to what he wants gives you the power. All you’ve got to do is use it.”

She hesitantly takes the envelope.

***

The entire evening and throughout the next day, the tickets – which she’d purposefully left in the loft – and what Lex has said about them run in a constant loop in her head. The person she really wants to go with is Lex, except that’s impossible and one she shouldn’t even be thinking of. Not only is there a 6-year difference in their ages – she’d looked it up – but he has no interest in her, and she doesn’t want to ruin what could be a really great friendship by fruitlessly pining after him.

She supposes the fastest way to stop crushing on Lex is to find someone else to like, except the only other person she even remotely has feelings for is Whitney, and he isn’t available either.

Deciding to at least put the tickets to good use, Clara thinks of giving them to Chloe and Pete, except the former dislikes football and the latter would sooner never watch football again than to accept tickets from a Luthor. In the end, she decides to ask her father.

“Hey dad,” she says in greeting when she tracks him down in the back forty. “What would you say if we could be sitting in a deluxe box next Sunday watching the Metropolis Sharks?”

“Did you win a lottery, Clara?” he chuckles, before straightening up when he sees the tickets she holds up in her hand. “What is this?”

“Tickets to the game next Sunday,” she repeats. “I know how much you love the Sharks and-”

Jonathan’s eyes narrow. “Wait a minute. Did Lex Luthor arrange this?”

Clara pauses before saying, “He offered me the tickets because he couldn’t use them.”

He snorts before remarking as sarcastically as possible, “How generous of him.”

She feels a spike of temper rearing its head. Swallowing it down, she says as evenly as she can manage, “Oh come on, dad. Lex isn’t his father. He’s been nothing but nice-”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Not this again,” she groans. “He’s my friend-”

“He’s buying your attention with expensive gifts-”

“Jesus, dad!” she yells in frustration. “As if Lex Luthor would bother buying the attention of an awkward high school girl when he no doubt has supermodels on speed dial!” It’s a reminder to herself as much as it is to her father.

“You’re beautiful, Clara, and you’re becoming a woman-”

She groans loud enough to drown out Jonathan’s words. “Never mind, forget about the tickets!” she yells before hurrying away.

When she returns to the loft, she’s surprised to see Whitney there, looking through her telescope in the direction that she suspects is Lana’s house.

“Whitney! What are you doing here?”

He steps away from the telescope after not so subtly nudging it back up. “Your mom said I could wait up here. I hope you don’t mind.”

He turns to look around the loft. As it’s the upper-level balcony of the barn, it’s quite spacious, with several bookcases against the walls, a couch on one end and a desk with a chair on the other. A hammock is even hung up in the corner, near the window of the barn. “This is an amazing place.”

Clara smiles. “Thanks. My dad built it for me. Calls it my fortress of solitude.” Her smile becomes a little strained as she remembers her earlier conversation with him.

When Whitney nods, she fidgets a little before saying, “So why are you here? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you and all, but…” she shrugs.

“I wanted to thank you for saving my life, and to apologize for the whole scarecrow thing.”

“I’m glad you’re okay and that I was able to help. But as for your apology, I’m not the one who you should be apologizing to.”

“I’ve already talked to Russell. I just… I wanted to get back at him for you. We might not really know each other, but no one deserves to be treated like that, you know?”

Clara finds herself blushing again. She forces herself to speak.

“I get that you were trying to help, and I appreciate it, but I am capable of fighting my own battles, Whitney.”

“I know,” he says, looking over at her wryly, and Clara can’t help but instinctively hunch, suddenly recalling that they’d been the same height not even a year earlier. “Anyway, thanks Clara.”

She pulls out the envelope with the tickets, but she pauses as she looks down at it. By the time she looks up again, Whitney’s gone.

***  

Finally done with her homework, Clara stretches. She’s about to relax on her hammock when she hears Jonathan grunting.

Seeing him put large blades on a mower, she asks as a peace offering, “Need a hand, dad?”

“Best idea I’ve heard all night,” he says with a relieved smile.

As she’s walking down the stairs, she hears something weird. She stops and turns around, trying to figure out what it is, when someone jumps out of the shadows and lands on top of her in an attempt to strangle her.

Her eyes widen as she sees a face she recognizes.

“Get off!” she yells as she throws the assailant away from her.

“Clara?” Jonathan yells in alarm and he bolts up the stairs. “What happened? Are you all right?”

She shakes her head. “There’s someone in the rafters.”

Jonathan immediately pulls out a flashlight and turns it on, and she does the same. As they carefully sweep the rafters, Jonathan manages to shine his light at the intruder. Before he can say anything, he’s forcefully shoved through the railing.

“Dad!” Clara screams as she sees him fall through the wooden railing, heading straight for the blades below. She jumps down and pushes the blades away before catching her father in her arms.

As she breathes a sigh of relief and helps him get to his feet, Jonathan shakes his head.

“What in the hell just happened?”

***

Martha’s hands tremble as she carefully runs them over Jonathan.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he says reassuringly. “Clara saved me. She seems to be making a habit of saving people.”

Martha breathes a sigh of relief. “Did you get a look at his face?”

He shakes his head. “I never saw anybody move like that. He came right off the ceiling at me. It was almost as if he-”

“Wasn’t entirely human?” Clara finishes. “I saw his face. I think it was Greg Arkin.”

“Greg Arkin?” Martha repeats in surprise. “I don’t think you ever even spoke to him before, did you Clara?”

She shakes her head. “I mean, I see him in the Torch office sometimes.”

“So then why would he want to hurt you?” Jonathan asks, looking rather confused.

Clara shrugs. “I don’t know. All I know about him is that he collects flies and every other bug he can get his hands on.” She shivers. Although she knows now that she’s impervious – and even before, bugs have never bitten or stung her – she’s never been a fan of insects or arachnids.

“Clara, kids just don’t leap off the ceiling and attack people,” Jonathan points out.

She shines her flashlight at the gooey green footprints on the barn ceiling. “Then how do you explain that?”

Despite the evidence, he continues to look skeptical. “I don’t know. Seems kind of out there.”

Both Clara and Martha look at him incredulously.

“This coming from the man who’s been hiding a spaceship in his storm cellar for the past 12 years.”

Jonathan sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want to believe you, Clara. It’s just… I’m having trouble getting my head around this one.”

Clara supposes it’s one thing knowing your daughter is an alien with superpowers, and another thing entirely when regular old humans do things that should be impossible.

She fidgets before asking, “Mom, dad, do you ever wonder why all these weird things happen in Smallville?”

Martha smiles kindly at her. “Every town has its share of tall tales, sweetheart.”

“Except here they’re all true,” she argues. “Chloe has this wall that’s covered with all these articles she’s collected about all the weird stuff that’s happened in Smallville since the meteor shower.”

Jonathan comfortingly squeezes her shoulder. “Look, Clara, if you’re talking about 50-pound tomatoes and two-headed calves, then I got a better explanation for you: LuthorCorp. I mean, god only knows what that fertilizer plant’s been pumping out over the last 12 years.”

She knows that’s what most of the townspeople believe. She’d believed the same. Until Jeremy. She’d seen him and the power he’d had with her own eyes. Power he wouldn’t have had if it hadn’t been for the meteor shower that had come down with her when she’d arrived on Earth.

Still, she doesn’t say anything about him. She can’t. Clara thinks it’s because a part of her wants to believe her father, that the meteor rocks aren’t to blame – that she’s not to blame.

***

“Chloe!” Clara calls out when she spots her in the halls at school the next day. She’d scoured seemingly the entire building and had yet to locate Greg. Considering how he’d tried to kill her and her father the day before, it’s not really surprising he’d skipped school for the day. She can only hope Chloe, as the editor for The Torch, has a way to get ahold of him.

“Hey!”

“Is Greg Arkin still the science reporter for The Torch?”

Chloe shoots her a disgruntled look. “Well, if your definition of a reporter is someone who actually turns in articles, then no. Greg hasn’t shown his face in the office for like a week.”

“I’ve got to find him. Will you let me know if you see him around?”

Her eyes narrow. “What’s with the sudden interest in Greg? You coming out the entomology closet?”

Clara tries to smile. “It’s nothing. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You know, I hate it when you do that,” Chloe tells her flatly.

She stops. “Do what?”

“Just shut me out. It’s like one minute you’re here, and then the next you’re gone.” Chloe breathes in deeply. “You’re not outgrowing me as a friend, are you?”

Clara is taken aback. “Chloe, I could never outgrow you.” Her lips twitch. “Other than vertically.”

The blonde snorts, but she looks relieved.

“What brought this on?”

She shrugs. “You never told me what happened with Russell, and you’re all of a sudden best buds with Lana.”

Clara feels a stab of guilt for having neglected her best friend. “Oh, Chloe…”

The blonde shakes her head. “Forget it. Tell me what’s up with Greg.”

***

Later that afternoon, Clara meets Chloe and Pete at the Torch office to share what they’ve each found.

“So I found an article about Amazonian tribesmen who took on traits of the insects they’d been bitten by, but nothing as extreme as what you’re talking about. Did you have any luck?”

“Only that Greg didn’t move to Smallville until after the meteor shower, so he couldn’t have been exposed to the blast.” It had been such a relief to discover that fact.

Of course, Chloe has to ruin it. “Yeah, but his bugs could have been. Think about it, Clara. Pieces of that meteor are still buried all over Smallville. The whole habitat’s infected. So when boy catches bugs and bugs bite boy, you end up with… bug boy.”

Even as Pete snorts at the pun, Clara refuses to believe it. “Chloe, you can’t even walk out your door in the summertime without being bitten by a mosquito. Why don’t we have a whole town of bug people?”

“Uh… oh! Because you need a certain level of toxins to cause a mutation! Those Amazonian tribesmen were all attacked by swarms.”

Pete hums. “Greg did keep tanks of bugs in his room. Maybe they got sick of the view and staged a revolt,” he jokes.

Looking grim, Chloe puts down her stack of papers. “Well, according to my research, bugs have a very short life cycle. So if he really has gone Kafka, let’s hope he isn’t in the mating phase.”

At that disgusting thought, they exchange disturbed glances, and wordlessly decide to head over to Greg’s house just in case.

***

When knocking doesn’t get them anywhere, Chloe says, “It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”

Pete looks through a window and winces at what he sees. There are what looks like dirt tracks and handprints all over the walls.

“Man, this place is a mess. Greg’s mom was such a neat freak too – she used to make me take off my shoes before she’d let me inside. One time I forgot and she yelled at me.”

“Is that what broke up the friendship?”

He sighs. “After 7^th grade, Greg’s parents got divorced and he just stopped calling after that. Which sucked because he had a killer tree fort his dad built in the woods by the old Creekside Foundry.”

Chloe brightens. “The one that got hit with the meteor shower?”

Pete slowly nods. “In fact, he used to collect his bugs from all around there.”

Clara inwardly winces. If he attacks again when they go there, she’ll be at a serious disadvantage.

“You guys, come here,” Chloe says, having realized the window isn’t locked. She opens it and sneaks in.

***

Looking around the house is like walking through some kind of a bizarre Halloween haunted house. Hand and foot prints litter the walls and the ceiling, and traces of spider webbing is seemingly everywhere.

Matters don’t improve when they go up the stairs to the second floor.

Pete grimaces when he sees the mess in the shower. “Oh man, that’s disgusting! What is it?”

Clara reluctantly takes a closer look. “I think it’s skin. He must be molting.”

He groans in disgust but diligently continues to take photos.

“You guys better come in here!” Chloe calls out.

The blonde is in a room full of webbing. Considering the state of it, Clara thinks this must be Greg’s bedroom. But most disturbing of all is a video playing on the television, of Lana sitting outside and reading. It’s clearly been recorded without her knowledge, and a quick glance shows numerous other tapes by the TV, undoubtedly also of Lana.

Pete shakes his head. “Oh man, looks like someone has the hots for Lana.”

“More like a stalker-level obsession. I think Greg’s found his mate,” Chloe concludes grimly.

As Pete continues to take photos, Clara sees that in the corner of the room, the spider webs are thicker. She walks over.

“What do you see, Clara?” Chloe asks.

She knows she can use her x-ray vision to check it out, but she has a feeling she’s not going to like what she finds, and she’d rather see it only once. “I’m not sure.”

Pete pauses and turns to her. “Uh, Clara?” he says warily. “This is the part in every horror movie when a character does something stupid like looking at a suspicious patch of webbing in a dark corner, and gets themselves killed. And I’ll remind you, you’re two white girls and I’m a black guy.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Chloe’s voice is full of trepidation. “I don’t like this.”

Clara reaches up and pulls the webbing apart. Chloe screams and Pete jerks back as a body falls out. Although her face is shriveled, there’s no mistaking who it must be.

“Poor Mrs. Arkin!”

“Chloe, contact the police, and Pete, stay with her in case Greg comes back.”

“What are you going to do, Clara?”

“Find Lana and warn her.” She only hopes she isn’t too late.

As Chloe digs out her cell phone from her bag and calls 911, Pete tells her, “Stay safe.”

Clara tries to smile. “You too.”

***

“Lana! Lana!” Clara calls out as she enters the stable where Lana’s aunt Nell Potter had said she would be.

To her surprise, Whitney tumbles out of one of the stalls. “Greg’s got her.”

Clara hurries over to help him stand. “What happened?”

Whitney winces. “I’m not sure. Greg threw me against the wall like it was nothing, then grabbed Lana. I’ve never seen somebody that strong before.”

“Which way did he go?” She has a feeling she knows what he’s going to say, but she still holds out hope that she might be wrong.

Unfortunately, she isn’t.

“I think he headed off into the woods.”

Seeing the look on Clara’s face, Whitney grabs her shoulders. “You know where he’s going?”

She nods. “Pete said he has a tree fort in the woods not far from the old Creekside Foundry.”

Whitney heads towards his car. “Call the police, Clara. I’m going to get Lana.”

Clara speeds away before he even makes his way out of the stables.

***  

With her x-ray vision, it doesn’t take long for her to find the tree fort. Doing her best to suppress her fear of heights, she steadily climbs up the ladder while resolutely refusing to look down. She reminds herself that even if she falls, she can’t be hurt.

It doesn’t help.

When she finally gets inside, she sees Lana under a blanket of webs, unconscious.

“Get away from her,” Greg orders. “You shouldn’t have meddled in matters that don’t concern you.”

Clara takes a deep breath. “Greg, I know what’s happened to you.”

“Then you know that I’ve been freed.”

She shakes her head. “No, you haven’t. You’re a slave to your instincts.”

Greg jumps up from where he’s been crouched in the corner. “I have no rules, Clara. I eat what I want, I go where I want, and I take what I want.”

She stands firm. “Lana isn’t yours to take.”

“Well then, try to stop me.”

Greg launches at her and they both fall out of the tree fort. Clara lands on her back but he doesn’t – in fact, he doesn’t land anywhere near her. She looks around and sees him running away and jumping over a chain link fence, heading for the Creekside Foundry.

Clara gives immediate chase. As soon as she enters the old foundry, however, she stumbles. She can see meteor rocks scattered on the ground, but she refuses to give up. Hoping to get far enough away from them to lessen their effects, she goes up the stairs to a wooden platform. Unfortunately, she only becomes exposed to more pieces of the meteor rocks and gets progressively weaker.

Greg walks up behind her and, picking up a large pipe lying nearby, takes a powerful swing at her back. She’s sent flying across the warehouse and lands in the worst possible position – right next to a large cluster of meteor rocks. Clara has never felt pain like this before, and the veins in her hands turn green and start to bulge.

“Hey Clara,” Greg says almost conversationally, “Did you know the Buffalo ant can lift 30 times its own body weight?” Then as though to illustrate that very fact, he throws her across the warehouse again like it’s nothing.

Clara crawls into a broken metal shell, hoping to hide until she can come up with some way of stopping him.

Greg’s laughter sounds cruel. “Cla-ra?” he mockingly singsongs. “Cla-ra, where are you? Come on out! I just want to play. Cla-ra?”

It only takes a few seconds before she realizes her hand is back to normal and she no longer feels the debilitating pain or the weakness she typically experiences. She looks at the metal shell that surrounds her and realizes it must be shielding her from the effects of the meteor rocks somehow.

Greg approaches her hiding spot. “Give it up, Clara! You can’t fight natural law! Only the strong survive.”

Clara comes out from behind him and forcefully shoves him against a concrete slab.

“Did you really think you could hide from me?” he sneers.

She tosses him with enough strength that he seems dazed when he crashes against a support beam. Snarling, Greg tries to stand and instead accidentally pulls a lever next to him.

“Greg, watch out!” Clara calls out in warning, but it’s too late. A large block of metal falls on him, crushing him, but instead of a body being trapped, thousands of bugs crawl out from under it and head off into the woods.

She shivers. “So creepy,” she mutters to herself before making her way back to the tree fort.

Spotting Whitney’s car, she uses her x-ray vision to see into the fort. Lana is crying and shaking as Whitney tenderly holds her.

“It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe,” he reassures her as he tightens his embrace.

Clara pulls out the envelope from her pocket and looks at it. She doesn’t know if she would have asked Whitney to the game if she’d had the chance. She thinks that if she actually did get to know him, she could like him as more than a friend. But she doesn’t need him like Lana does, like he probably wants to be needed. Besides, she thinks she likes the idea of him – the star quarterback and captain of the football team – more than the actual person, as though if people see her with him, they’ll think she’s normal and worthy of acknowledgement and affection, and then she’ll be popular and everything will be magically better.

Except it won’t.

Clara heads over to his car and tucks the envelope beneath a windshield wiper. She watches from afar as Whitney and Lana slowly walk towards his car, and the look on his face when he sees the tickets is one of pure joy. As he hugs and kisses Lana, Clara speeds back to the Foundry.

She heads straight for the metal shell that had saved her. After tearing the metal into strips, she shapes it into a small box. She approaches the group of meteor rocks closest to the entrance, and extends her hand towards it. As before, she doesn’t just feel weak and nauseous – it’s physically painful, almost like what she imagines blood boiling in her body might feel like. With a groan, she grabs the smallest piece of meteor rock and dumps it into the box, before covering the top with another piece of the metal shell.

With that accomplished, Clara heads home.

***  

“What is it?” Martha asks, examining the crude metal box sitting on the kitchen table.

“I don’t know. But it shields me from the effects of the meteor rocks somehow.”

Clara pulls the top off and Martha and Jonathan can see that inside it is a meteor rock. It glows an eerie green, and they see that where Clara’s hand is exposed, it turns white and her veins start to bulge. Seeing the clear pain on her face, Jonathan replaces the lid and watches with astonishment as her hand quickly returns to normal.

He carefully lifts the box to examine it.

“Looks like it might be lead. Hang on,” he tells them as he heads to the laundry room. Returning with his toolbox, Jonathan hurriedly dumps out its contents before taking the meteor rock out of its makeshift box and placing it in the toolbox instead.

“This toolbox is made from lead,” he says as he closes the lid.

Clara slowly approaches. She doesn’t feel the nausea and weakness, and even when her hand is touching the toolbox, it remains perfectly normal.

Her parents breathe a sigh of relief.

“So lead can protect you from the meteor rocks! That’s good news, honey,” Martha says with a relieved smile.

Clara sighs. “If only I could go around covered in lead from head to toe.”

“So what happened tonight?”

By the time she tells her parents everything that had happened with Greg, Martha has finished making her famous hot chocolate. As she pours each of them a mug, she asks, “But why attack you?”

Clara shrugs. “My guess? He saw me save Whitney and wanted me out of the way.”

Martha curls around her and hands her a mug of hot chocolate. “You know none of this is your fault,” she reminds her.

Clara nods. “I know.”

“But you still feel responsible,” she says understandingly.

“And that makes me human,” Clara repeats.

As Martha just hugs her tighter, Jonathan lovingly kisses her on the head.

“I’m so glad you guys are the ones who found me.”

“We didn’t find you, Clara. You found us,” Jonathan says.

“We found each other,” Martha corrects, and they smile at each other.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Smallville is a town of 45,000 people, and the biggest thing there – besides having the distinction of being the meteor capital of the world – is the high school’s football team, the Crows. They’ve won State Championships and they’re the town’s pride and joy. Clara doesn’t really see the appeal of football – being able to run faster than the receivers and throw farther than the quarterback means it all seems rather silly and boring to her – so she only really goes to the games if she’s forced to do so. Still, at least she doesn’t purposefully try and antagonize the Crows and their fans, unlike Chloe.

After publishing the front-page article for The Torch with the headline of ‘Football: Sport or Abuse?’ with an accompanying image of Coach Walt holding Whitney by the facemask of his football helmet, screaming in his face, Chloe decides the best thing to do is go by the football field and the courtyard, where the cheerleaders and the football players like to hang out.

Clara and Pete reluctantly accompany her when their attempts to reason with her fail.

“So, what do you think?” Chloe asks.

Clara looks up from the paper and eyes the cup of coffee Chloe is holding in her hand.

“I think you need to seriously decrease your cappuccino dependency,” she remarks dryly.

Pete laughs.

Chloe shoots them a mock glare before saying, “Pete thinks I’m being too hard on Coach Walt.”

“I mean,” he explains, “the man coached my dad and all my brothers. He used to come over and watch the Super Bowl.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Now, while I’m touched by that Hallmark moment, you don’t get points for subtlety in journalism.” With a spring in her step and a positively gleeful expression on her face, she happily says, “I’ve already started getting hate mail.”

Clara looks at her warily. “You seem very happy about that. Why?”

“Because it means I’m hitting a nerve! Besides, between the abysmal sentence structure and generous use of obscenities, I’ve got a pretty good idea of who’s been sending it.”

Pete puts a hand on her shoulder. “If you think my teammates are reading The Torch, you’re giving them way too much credit,” he points out before tousling the spiky hair at the back of her head.

Chloe wordlessly acknowledges his point.

As Clara wistfully looks over at the cheerleaders, she sees Lana and Whitney standing just behind them, arguing.

“Don’t you even care about this?” Lana asks, clearly upset.

Whitney shrugs. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You don’t think it’s a big deal? I think it’s a big deal,” she retorts, before storming off.

Chloe grins. “Ooh, there’s something you don’t see every day. A pompom meltdown.”

She and Pete laugh, but Clara doesn’t join in. She thinks she can guess what the argument is about, and she’s definitely on Lana’s side on this one. And it kind of disappoints her that Whitney thinks cheating done by his football buddies isn’t a big deal. As someone who will be relying on applying for academic scholarships to afford college – what with having barely any extracurricular activities on her CV – it’s extremely important that grades are earned fairly by all students and that there aren’t any questions into their veracity.

And it isn’t as though Whitney is protesting his friends’ innocence – he knows they cheated on their math midterm yet is perfectly willing to ignore that, all so they can play football and win another game. It sucks that someone she’d thought of as a good guy, someone she’d even had a crush on, turns out not to be that good a person after all.

Clara can’t help but look over at Whitney in disappointment. The blond quarterback appears upset over Lana’s reaction, but in yet another twist, is surprisingly not going after Lana; instead, he turns back to his friends and joins in their conversation as though nothing of import has occurred.

“Ooh, ooh, here they come!” Chloe says, snapping Clara out of her thoughts. She turns and sees a group of football players exiting the building and pass by them.

“Pete, I need a picture of the cheating jockstraps,” the blonde says quietly, and he obligingly takes the camera strap off his shoulder and hands the digital camera to her.

At Coach Walt’s call, the football players and the cheerleaders gather around him. Once he sees that he has all their attention, he states, “I don’t want to hear any rumors of cheating going around, any false accusations.”

Clara looks over at Chloe. “Any idea how they got that midterm?”

Chloe takes another photo. “It’s still a mystery, but I’m working on it.”

“Hey, what’s she doin’?” one of the football players asks.

Spotting Chloe with a camera in hand, one of the players throws a football at her head. Before it can slam into her face, Clara extends her arm and easily catches it in one hand.

Chloe looks at Clara with relief and amazement as Pete grins.

“Ooh, nice catch!” he says, reaching up to pat her on the back.

“One of your teammates attempts to assassinate me, and all you say is nice catch?” Chloe bites out angrily before storming away.

Pete grimaces before hurriedly following after her. “I thought you wanted to hit a nerve!”

Clara glares at the player who threw the football before throwing it back hard enough that he doubles over as it hits him in the stomach.

“Uhh!” he groans, before straightening up when Coach Walt looks at him. As the bell rings and everyone starts walking away, Coach Walt looks at her with speculation. Clara furrows her brows in confusion before she turns to follow Chloe and Pete.

***

“Come on, you have to help me get back in Chloe’s good graces,” Pete begs a couple of hours later. Despite his typical attempts to endear himself to her – teasing, tickling, and otherwise making a fool of himself – Chloe has continued to ignore him, and Pete’s getting desperate.

Taking pity on the poor soul, Clara digs through her backpack and hands over her mother’s newest baking concoction, triple layer almond chocolate bars that she’d nicked that morning as they were cooling on the rack. Pete’s eyes light up with delight, and Clara can almost see the drool gathering at the corners of his mouth.

“This is for Chloe,” she reminds him. “This, along with an almond mocha with extra whip, should do the trick.”

Pete looks disappointed – there’s a reason why her mother’s baked goods sell out at the Beanery within the hour, after all – but nods solemnly in thanks, and though he enviously eyes the bars, rather than sampling any, he hides them in his bag to remove any temptation and for safekeeping.

They’re about to head over to the Torch office when Coach Walt approaches them.

“Hey Kent, I saw your arm out there. Technique was lousy but you got a lot of power.”

“Thanks?” she says, not sure why Coach Walt is talking to her. He’s strictly a football coach and doesn’t even teach gym class; they’ve never interacted before.

“Any chance you got brothers? Jonathan Kent was one of the best athletes I ever coached. A lot of god-given talent. It’s clearly in your genes.”

Clara’s lips twitch. “Actually, I’m adopted.”

Pete chuckles, but Coach Walt looks less than pleased.

“It’s too bad you’re not a boy, Kent,” he remarks. “You could’ve been something.”

As Clara frowns at the dig, Pete pipes up. “You’ve still got me, Coach!”

He chuckles before patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t have a lick of natural talent but you got a truckload of heart, Ross.”

Pete looks rather taken aback. “Thanks, I guess.”

As Coach Walt heads off, Pete and Clara exchange quizzical glances.

“What was that all about?”

“Don’t know,” she replies. As she stares at Coach Walt’s retreating back, her gaze catches on the large glass case by the wall. It’s filled with trophies and photos of past football players and cheerleaders, their smiling faces forever memorialized in frames. Coach’s remark rings in her head, and not for the first time, Clara wishes she could be among their number.

“Hello? Earth to Clara?”

Clara jerks back. “Sorry Pete. So have you prepared a suitably groveling speech yet?”

***

As Clara is dreaming of making her mark in Smallville High, Lex is heading towards his study after his workout when he sees three men in suits standing around rather impatiently. Despite having cancelled the meeting, a part of him had expected this, which is why he’d purposely started his workout a little later than usual, in hopes of keeping them waiting. In his workout clothes and with a towel draped around his neck, Lex knows he’ll offend his fathers’ lackeys’ sensibilities and get them all ruffled. Looking rather forward to seeing that, he strolls in casually, his every movement unhurried and nonchalant.

He pointedly dabs his face and neck with the ends of the towel first before remarking, “Well, if it isn’t the three wise men.”

As Lex passes them and heads over to a beverage table to grab a cold bottle of Ty Nant, he greets one of them facetiously. “Hello, Dominic.”

Dominic Sanatori, his father’s assistant and the biggest suck-up on Lionel’s payroll, follows. “I’m assuming you’re running late because you’ve been at a fencing lesson, or have you taken up polo again?” he snidely remarks.

The dirty blond’s obvious jealousy of Lex only serves to amuse him. He lets out a chuckle before taking a sip of water. “I’m not running late. I cancelled this meeting if you recall.”

“And your father insisted that we drive down here and keep it.”

Lex smirks, not bothering to mask his amusement. “Mmm, and when he barks, you jump.”

As though to prove his point, Dominic continues to trail after him like a puppy as he heads over to the pool table. “Have you seen the quarterly numbers?”

“Yes, I have.” Lex selects a cue stick from a rack on the wall as he says airily, “We’re 20% below projections.”

“And your father wants you to take drastic action,” Dominic informs him.

Lex chalks the end of his cue and says unconcernedly, “I plan to.”

Dominic’s smile is tight, betraying his irritation at Lex’s attitude. “Good. Then I can inform him that you’ll be cutting your workforce?”

“On the contrary, you can inform him I plan on increasing my workforce.”

Dominic frowns. “By how much?”

Lex leans over the pool table and lines up his shot. “20%.”

Dominic lets out a chuckle. “Lex, I’ve always enjoyed your… unique sense of humor, but you can’t be serious.”

Lex refrains from sighing at the idiocy before him. “You gotta spend money to make money, Dominic. If we increase productivity and marketing while our competitors retreat, when the sector bounces back-” he breaks and sinks a ball into a pocket- “we’ll corner the market.”

Dominic’s tanned skin flushes, a look that does him no favors. The veins in his neck protrude and his voice is tight as he exclaims, “Your father sent you to Smallville to turn the plant around!”

Lex’s abrupt movements betray his frustration. “My father sent me to Smallville because he’d rather surround himself with drones than people who challenge his archaic business practices,” he retorts belligerently, and pointedly looks at Dominic and then at the other two men still lingering by the door, making it clear just exactly who he’s speaking of.

“I’ll be certain to tell him that,” Dominic retorts.

The look on his father’s face is bound to be priceless; Lex only wishes he could see it. “Please do. Now, this meeting is adjourned.”

As Dominic turns to leave, he blandly adds, “By the way, Dominic, tell your sister I said hi.”

Dominic freezes, before slowly turning back around to face Lex. Shooting him a glare, he storms out.

Lex doesn’t bother to hide the bemused twitch of his lips.

***

Physical education is Clara’s least favorite class. She obviously doesn’t have any difficulties performing any of the activities as required – it is indeed hilariously easy – but she has to constantly fake it so as to not betray anything odd about her. Her reputation of being a klutz helps tremendously, and her clear reluctance to catch, throw, or otherwise hit back any ball ensures she is always picked last for any team and is assigned the most useless position in any given circumstances. But just because she successfully hides her abilities from everyone doesn’t mean she doesn’t get frustrated at the fact that she has to hide and put up with being thought of and labeled as pathetic and inept. Nevertheless, her fear of being discovered and the consequences that may result far outweigh any aggravation she feels, and mutes any desire to show off to her peers for what would only be a momentary benefit.

Today they’re playing dodge ball, which actually has Clara breathing a sigh of relief. This is one of the few games that she doesn’t mind, as all she has to do is endure being picked last as she is always the first to be eliminated, allowing her to sit and relax for the remainder of the period. And it’s not like any of the balls she gets hit by cause her any physical pain, no matter how hard any of them throw. The only trick is to make it seem like she isn’t just standing there waiting to be hit, to ensure she doesn’t get assigned additional exercises for slacking.

After the headline of that day’s school paper, however, Chloe finds herself receiving a barrage of balls thrown at her direction, including a few aimed at her head. The spiky blonde is unhurt, but Clara knows from personal experience that that doesn’t mean anything. As the teacher makes noise about good sportsmanship and the like, Clara sidles up to her.

“You okay?”

Chloe is clearly rattled, but she also looks determined. “I’m fine, Clara.”

Before Clara can say anything else, a whistle blows. “Kent, get back over here!”

Grimacing, Clara jogs back towards where the game has already started. She’s contemplating targeting Mandy to get back at her for hitting Chloe’s head with a ball when the said ball in question hits her arm. Clara looks over in surprise, only to see Lana’s sheepish grin aimed in her direction.

Unsurprisingly, as is often the case, Lana wins. It’s not that the brunette is particularly good at dodge ball, but rather that the opposing team by and large don’t want to hit Lana for fear of hurting her. There are several girls that don’t care about that, of course, Chloe being one of them, but they also tend to be the unpopular girls, meaning they get targeted first and are often taken out of the game before any of them can aim for Lana.

Looking at the clock on the wall, the teacher makes them run laps around the gym for the remainder of the class. Groaning, they do as instructed, and Clara, as usual, purposefully falls behind the rest. Chloe, who normally slacks off with her, is leading the pack, clearly taking her anger and frustration out by running full tilt.

Once the whistle blows signaling the end of class, Chloe heads directly for the locker room, undoubtedly eager for a shower. Clara takes her time and loiters about the gym, letting all the other girls go into the locker room first. There are always more than a few girls who will make nasty remarks about her, and though she often does her best to pretend not to have heard it, she’d rather forgo the whole pretense if at all possible.

Clara’s just about to open the door to the locker room when Coach Barbara, the gym teacher from Smallville Elementary who’d opted to join the staff at Smallville High, waylays her.

“Kent, how do you feel about joining the cheerleading squad?”

Clara’s brows furrow in confusion. “But you held tryouts weeks ago. Isn’t the squad full?”

Coach Barbara purses her lips in displeasure. “Lana quit, and with the big football game being this Friday, I don’t have time to hold another tryout. I know you can do this, Kent, I’ve seen you do it.”

Clara winces. When she was younger and before she’d hit her growth spurt, there’d been times when she hadn’t been as careful of her abilities as she should’ve been. To her parents’ dismay, she had demonstrated her gymnastics skills in class by easily doing backflips and splits, to the amazement of everyone around her. It had resulted in Coach Barbara attempting to sign her up for anything and everything, from gymnastic competitions to track and field. Thankfully, she soon became so tall and her klutz attacks – thanks to Lana’s meteor rock necklace – so frequent, that she no longer had to come up with excuses as to why she had to turn her down.

“I’m rusty, Coach,” Clara says, but the skeptical look she shoots her makes it clear she isn’t believed.

“Plus my dad needs me on the farm,” she tries again. “I don’t really have the time-”

“Well, your school needs you,” Coach interrupts. “Look, look, your dad played football and he knows how important support is for the team morale. I know he would understand.”

“He’s kind of stubborn,” she says, looking rather doubtful at the Coach’s claim.

“Clara, there comes a time when you have to step out of your parents’ shadow and be your own person. Now what do you say? You ready to be your own woman?”

She wavers. “Let me think about it.”

Coach sighs. “Look, I am giving you a chance to be a part of something special, a part of history. Don’t tell me you don’t want to be a part of this.”

Clara hesitates. Coach Walt’s words ring through her head once again. She can’t deny that she’s always wanted people to look at her and see something more than just a tall, awkward freak in cheap men’s clothes. Her biggest wish is to be like everyone else and fit in and belong among the students of Smallville High. And without Lana and her meteor rock necklace standing in her way, this could be her one chance at normal.

She breathes in deeply and straightens up. “Count me in.”

Coach smiles. “Good. I’ll see you at practice. Don’t be late.”

Clara nods, but her smile betrays her nerves.

***

She hurries home and goes to find her father first, because she knows he’ll be the harder sell. Unlike her mother, he’d been one of the popular kids in school, and so has no frame of reference for just why she’s so eager to belong. She finds him in the barn, fixing a piece of equipment.

“Hi honey, how was school?”

“It was fine.” Clara clears her throat. “I got asked by Coach Barbara to join the cheerleading squad, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer so I had to say yes.”

Jonathan straightens up. “Uh, wait a minute. What do you mean you had to say yes?”

She grins sheepishly. “She sort of didn’t give me a choice. She even said a speech and everything, about being my own person-”

He snorts. “She must’ve stolen that from Walt. He’s been giving that same speech for 25 years. It’s effective, I’ll give you that. Just go and tell her you can’t join the cheerleading squad.”

Her face falls. “Dad, please don’t make me do that.”

He sighs. “Clara, I’m sorry but we’ve already had this conversation.”

“It’s never been a conversation,” she retorts. “I tell you I can be careful and you say no because you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Clara,” he says. “But…”

When he seems unable to find the right words, she jumps in.

“But what? This is cheerleading, not a contact sport! I’ll only be doing cheers, for crying out loud!” She takes a deep breath and forces herself to calm down. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

Jonathan shakes his head. “When you’re in front of a crowd, a million things can happen that can affect your judgment. I mean, if you get too caught up, even for just a second, or you, uh, you try to impress a guy with a fancy move-”

She throws her hands up in the air. “And how is that you trusting me?”

He sighs again. “Honey, you were meant for much more important things than cheerleading.”

Clara refuses to be placated. “I’m sick of being punished because I have these powers,” she spits out in exasperation. Shaking her head, she tries a different tack. “You know, most parents would be happy if their daughter could be the head cheerleader.”

Jonathan places a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’m happy when you wake up in the morning. I don’t need to live vicariously through your achievements.”

She pulls away. “Why would you? You got to be a big shot football player and be a part of a team and be normal.”

He sighs once again but remains unmoved. “I’m not signing a permission slip, Clara.”

She straightens up. “You don’t have to. I’m going to join the cheerleading squad and you can’t stop me.”

When Jonathan stares at her, she refuses to give way and stands her ground.

***

One of the things Clara hadn’t thought of when she’d agreed to join the cheerleading squad is the fact that because of her height, the uniform looks rather too revealing on her. She’s showing far too much leg and midriff than she is comfortable with, though she does like the red uniform with goldenrod strips at the edges.

Feeling rather self-conscious, she tugs the skirt down as far as it will go and puts on the matching white cardigan to at least cover her stomach. Though she’s still showing more leg than she’s comfortable with, at least she doesn’t look indecent.

As Clara heads out and walks onto the grass, she smiles as she takes it all in. She can picture the crowd watching her as she leads them to cheer for the Crows, truly seeing her for the first time, and her heart begins to race.

Just then, she spots Jonathan sitting on the bleachers and her grin widens. She runs over to him.

“Dad, I’m glad you’re here. It means a lot to me.”

He doesn’t return her smile. “I still don’t support your decision, Clara. I’m only here to see that nothing goes wrong.”

She can’t hide the sting she feels at that. Giving him a look of disappointment and hurt, she heads back out onto the field.

After stretches and warm-ups, they get into position. As the tallest person on the squad, Clara is put right in the middle. And without Lana and her meteor rock necklace, she has no problems following the requisite movements, even if they don’t necessarily feel all that natural.

“Kent! You’re a cheerleader, not a zombie! You need to actually cheer and smile!” Coach Barbara shouts.

Felice Chandler, who had been thwarted in her hopes of taking over Lana’s old position, shoots her a condescending smile. Taking a deep breath, Clara gets into position again. This time, she does her best to cheer and smile and generally exude enthusiasm, and at the end, she does several backflips and lands in a forward split, waving her pompoms in the air.

“Whoa!”

“Check Kent out!”

“That was awesome!”

Clara’s smile is wide as she gets up. When she looks over at the stands, however, she only sees Jonathan’s retreating back. Her face falls, and even as her fellow cheerleaders congratulate her and she actually receives envious and admiring glances from the students milling around, she can’t quite muster up the same enthusiasm she’d felt just moments earlier.

Unwilling to return home just yet, Clara opts to stick around after practice ends and wait for Pete.

His face falls comically when he sees her. “Why aren’t you wearing your cute new uniform?”

Clara rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously. I’m surprised your dad didn’t order you to go change immediately seeing how much leg you were flashing.”

She huffs. “So it’s a little short-”

“A little?”

Before Clara can say anything, they hear screaming and see a burning car in the parking lot.

“Go get help!” she yells at Pete, who immediately runs back into the school.

Clara drops her backpack and zips over towards the car. Seeing the unconscious man – who happens to be Principal Kwan – she smashes the window on the driver’s side then takes the door off its hinges before tossing it away, hoping to mimic the effects of an explosion. She hurriedly pulls him out of the car and just about manages to carry him to safety as the car explodes behind them.

***

Dinner that night at the Kent house is uncomfortable, to say the least. Jonathan and Clara aren’t speaking to each other, both firmly believing they’re right, and after trying to keep the conversation going to no effect, Martha throws in the proverbial towel. The tension is only broken when the phone rings.

“Principal Kwan’s gonna be in the hospital til over the weekend,” Martha informs them as she returns to the table.

Clara swallows her bite of food. “Is he gonna be all right?”

“He’s got some burns and suffered smoke inhalation, but he’s gonna be okay thanks to you.”

“Anybody see you?” Jonathan asks, his tone sounding rather short and accusatory.

She tosses her fork down in frustration, though she manages to prevent damage from occurring to the new table. She thinks the fact that she can still restrain her strength despite it all says a lot about her capabilities and control.

“Nobody saw me, dad! And I told the paramedics that I wrapped my hands in my jacket when I pulled him out.”

He gives a single nod, and Martha, trying to ease some of the tension, says, “Lucky you were there.”

Clara snorts and stands up from the table. “Yeah. Luck.”

Jonathan scoffs. “Look, I saw you, all right?” He follows her to the kitchen with his own dirty plate. “You were showing off.”

She turns to face him. “Actually, I was restraining myself. Doing backflips and splits aren’t that unusual, dad – plenty of normal humans can do those things too.”

Jonathan only sighs.

She glances at Martha in defeat. “Look, why are we even having this conversation? He’s never gonna believe me.”

When neither of them says anything, Clara adds with a tremulous yet proud smile, “And by the way, you’re looking at the new head cheerleader.”

Jonathan just stares before he walks past her without a word.

“Don’t everyone congratulate me at once!”

When all Martha does is give her a look of sympathy, she storms out of the house. Martha winces as the door slams shut behind her.

“How did she get to be so stubborn?” Jonathan asks, frustrated and exhausted in equal measure.

“Gee, I don’t know,” she says pointedly.

“Hey, wait a minute! I was not like that when I was her age!” he protests.

“No, you were the obedient son who always obeyed his father and didn’t run away one summer and try out for the Metropolis Sharks.”

He throws up his hands. “Since when did you go and join the other side?”

Martha sighs. “Jonathan, Clara hasn’t been able to do anything normal her whole life; no playgroups, no softball, no soccer, not even the Girl Scouts, and all because we were afraid she might hurt somebody. She’s a teenager now. Let’s give her a shot.”

“Her gifts come with responsibilities,” he argues.

“This isn’t about her gifts, it’s about her judgment. You’re telling Clara that you don’t believe in her.”

“Of course I believe in her! I just don’t want her to make a mistake and cause somebody to suspect the truth. I don’t want anyone coming to this farm and taking our daughter away from us.”

Martha reaches for his hand. “Well, if we don’t start trusting her, nobody’s gonna have to take her away. She’s gonna leave all by herself.”

***

Unable to stand being around the farm, Clara heads into town. She decides to get a cup of coffee or something at the Beanery and is on her way there when she runs into Chloe and Pete.

“Hey guys!”

“Clara!” Chloe says before dragging her forward. “Tell me everything.”

She exchanges exasperated looks with Pete. “Didn’t Pete tell you? He was there.”

“Not for your dramatic rescue-”

“It wasn’t dramatic,” Clara argues.

“I’m sure. Now tell me what happened.”

After Clara finishes telling her version of what happened – which isn’t different from Pete’s, seeing as she’s been telling everyone the same story – Chloe frowns.

“You guys, it doesn’t make sense. Cars don’t just spontaneously combust.”

“The cops said it was faulty wiring,” Clara points out.

Chloe shoots her a look that makes it clear she can’t believe Clara could be so stupid as to believe that. Clara is actually rather offended, but before she can say anything, Chloe moves on.

“I’ve already got my headline: Pompom Saves Principal from Burning Car.”

Clara just sighs as she follows them into the Beanery.

“But seriously, I still can’t believe you, Clara Kent, have been blinded by the pompom brigade.”

“Chloe, I joined the cheerleading squad, not a cult.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. Just then, Lana walks past them. She’s wearing a green Beanery apron and has a tray of coffees in her hands.

“Lana, what are you doing here?” Clara asks.

“Taking your order, I hope.”

Looking at each other in confusion, they follow Lana to the back where there are empty tables. Like the Rosses and Gabe Sullivan, Nell Potter is more than comfortable enough financially that Lana doesn’t have to work. To quit cheerleading to wait tables at the Beanery is odd behavior, to say the least.

“W-what is this? Some sort of cheerleading charity, like be a waitress for a night sort of thing?” Chloe asks.

“Yes it is, except for the cheerleading and charity parts, and tips are always appreciated.”

Clara’s eyebrows tick up in surprise. “So you’re a waitress for real?”

Lana points at her nametag. “I’ve even got the perky nametag to prove it.”

“First day?” Pete asks as Lana delivers the coffees to the people sitting at the table next to them.

“Ever,” she replies.

Clara, as ever attuned to the presence of meteor rock – or lack thereof – points at her neck. “Where’s your necklace?”

Lana shoots her a tight smile. “Strict dress code – no jewelry and no open-toed shoes.”

“Well, you look very waitress-like,” Clara tells her, then winces inwardly at her lameness.

Lana kindly laughs as she turns to return to the counter. “Now, if I could only tell the difference between a half-caf decaf and a non-fat latte.”

“In that case, I’ll have a regular coffee,” Chloe orders.

“Hey, times three,” Pete chimes in.

As they sit down, they notice that the tray Lana had been carrying is still on their table. Clara gets up to return it to her.

“Uh Lana, you forgot this.”

She offers Clara a sheepish smile. “Thanks. That’s been happening a lot today.”

“First days are always rough,” she says sympathetically, before clearing her throat. “So, you really just quit cheerleading?”

Lana leans sideways against the counter. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, it’s not like you broke any laws or anything, but I am. You always seemed so happy doing it.”

She looks away. “It was fun for awhile, but I just feel like there’s more to life than memorizing cheers and shaking pompoms, you know? I want to try new and different things. Besides, my mom was a cheerleader and so was my aunt. I figured it was time to break the vicious cycle.”

Clara fidgets a little before asking, “What did, uh, Whitney say?”

Before Lana can answer, the manager interrupts. “Lana, table 3 has been waiting for their drinks for 5 minutes. If they go cold, it’s coming out of your tips.”

“Right. Sorry,” she says with a sheepish smile.

“Don’t be sorry. Just be faster,” the manager instructs.

Leaving Lana to do her job, Clara heads back to the table.

“Clara Kent is a cheerleader and Lana Lang is a waitress,” Chloe remarks as soon as Clara sits down.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she says with a frown.

“Nothing. I just wanna click my heels and get back to reality.”

Rolling her eyes, Clara looks away and sees Trevor, one of the football players accused of cheating, head over to a group of disgraced fellow players sitting not too far from them.

“Coach needs to see us on the field right now,” he tells them quietly, but it’s still loud enough for Clara to overhear.

As they get up to leave, Chloe turns to Pete. “What’s up with your fallen brethren?”

He shrugs. “Dunno.”

She jumps up and grabs her coat. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Chloe?” Clara looks over at her friend in concern. “What are you going to do?”

“Relax, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

With that, she rushes towards the door past Lana who is holding a tray full of drinks. Lana, while attempting to say bye to Chloe, accidentally tilts the tray, causing some of the drinks to spill. As she tries to correct it, she doesn’t see a man coming towards her and nearly collides with him, dropping the tray and causing everything to shatter on the ground.

As customers applaud, Lana fidgets, clearly mortified. Knowing more than a little of what it feels like to be embarrassed in public, Clara helps Lana clean up.

“Thanks Clara,” she says gratefully. Her smile fades as she stands back up and catches the exasperated expression on the manager’s face.

Clara shoots her a look full of commiseration. “Good luck.”

***

Chloe, having stealthily followed the group back to the school, hides behind the bleachers as the football players accused of cheating gather on the football field with Coach Walt. There are sprinklers spraying shoots of water all over the place, making the scene appear all the more dramatic. She eagerly pulls out her camera and starts to take photos.

“Congratulations,” Coach barks out as he stalks the field in front of his players. “I’ve never seen a group of young men demonstrate such extraordinary stupidity. Now, which one of you talked? Huh? Who told Kwan that I supplied you with the test?”

“Coach, no college is even going to look at us with cheating on our record!” Trevor tries to explain.

“So it was you, huh, Trevor?” he snarls. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He then backhands Trevor across the face, knocking him to the ground. Chloe, having missed the money shot, leans forward a little more, only to be completely startled as the water from the sprinklers suddenly turn into jets of flame. Eyes wide, she barely manages to stifle her gasp.

As the football players panic, Coach hollers, “Nothing, nothing is gonna stand between me and my legacy! Now you go home, and you keep your mouths shut. Understand?”

At that, the fires explode outward, and looking terrified, the players all hurriedly agree. When Coach Walt walks away, the fire dies down.

And Chloe has documented proof of the whole thing. She grins triumphantly.

***

Having heard the arrival of a helicopter, Lex isn’t surprised when Lionel bursts through the doors of his study. In fact, he doesn’t even look up from where he’s working at his desk.

“Congratulations Lex. You made the business page for once,” Lionel says derisively, and drops a paper onto Lex’s desk.

Lex doesn’t even bother glancing at it. “I told Dominic I was doing this 2 days ago,” he says mildly.

“Yes, and my drone dutifully reported it to me.”

Lex lips twitch a little at that.

“I just didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to implement it,” Lionel adds with a mean little laugh.

He does his best to hide his irritation. “If you had a problem, why didn’t you pick up the phone and call me?”

Lionel remarks as he walks a few steps away to examine the study, “We have a reporting structure. Just because you’re my son, don’t expect any special treatment.”

“Believe me, I never have,” he states blandly.

Lionel abruptly turns back around and strides around the desk to face Lex.

“That wounded pride routine may have worked for your mother, but don’t try it with me,” he snaps, sounding irate.   He forcibly calms himself and reaches out a hand to touch Lex’s face, but Lex pulls back, the mention of his mother only further souring his own mood. Lionel smoothly adjusts and grabs the back of Lex’s chair instead.

“You know perfectly well how I feel about you,” he finishes softly.

Lex purposefully keeps his head turned away. “Hence I’m at a crap factory in Smallville.”

“Lex. Did you know the Caesars would send their sons to the furthermost corners of the empire so they could get an appreciation of how the world works?”

Lex meets Lionel’s gaze head-on. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, dad.”

Lionel sighs as though Lex is being an impossible child before heading towards a stand where all the fencing swords are neatly arranged.

“All right. Here is how I propose we solve our impasse.” He grabs a sabre and swings it a few times, before testing its give. “We’ll fence for it. If you win, I’ll let you pursue your plan. If I win, you fire 20% of your workforce. The question you have to ask yourself, Lex, is are you good enough to take your old man?”

He stares flatly at Lionel before a corner of lips quirk up, the rush of adrenaline only feeding his eagerness to cut Lionel down a peg or two or three.

Lex’s study isn’t exactly the best place to have a fencing match, but neither of them suggests a change in venue. Indeed, they only spare enough time to change into the fencing uniform, though without masks. Lex wants to see his father’s humiliated face, and guesses Lionel doesn’t want his mane of hair to get tangled under the mask.

Despite wearing the exact same outfit, the two combatants couldn’t be any more different. Lex is bald, while Lionel has long flowing hair and beard, purposefully kept so as to no doubt rub it in his son’s face. Lex is young, while Lionel is middle-aged. Lionel is right handed, while Lex is left-handed. And their forms illustrate their vastly different personalities – Lionel is all about control, precise and minimal movements, while Lex is more open, attacking fiercely and more prone to taking risks, which at times leaves him vulnerable.

Lionel ducks Lex’s swing and rolls himself across the pool table. As they face each other on either side of the purple-felt covered table, Lionel lectures his son.

“Look at your moves, Lex. They’re rash, with no thought to their consequences.”

“If I wanted a running commentary, I’d buy one of your audiobooks.”

Lionel chuckles as he slowly advances. “You know what your problem is?”

Lex opens his arms. “Enlighten me,” he says mockingly.

“You’re ruled by your emotions. You always have been.”

With that, Lionel attacks and forces Lex to overextend himself, allowing him to then finish the match by holding his sabre to Lex’s throat.

“And that can be a fatal flaw.”

Continuing to hold the sabre at Lex’s throat, Lionel advances, forcing Lex to back up until he falls backwards onto a chair.

He orders, “I want those workers gone by noon tomorrow.” Tapping Lex twice on the chest with the sabre, he says condescendingly, “Meeting adjourned,” before turning and striding out of the office.

Lex gets up, frustrated and breathing hard. He just barely manages to not throw his sabre at the wall.

***

That evening finds Clara in the loft, dressed in her uniform for the pep rally. She looks in the full-length mirror and tries once more to somehow cover more skin with the existing material, to no avail. In the end, she again resorts to tugging her skirt down as far as it will go, which bares her midsection from a couple of inches above her bellybutton to her hip bone, but at least her skirt goes down far enough that it does more than just cover her butt. With her bared midriff hidden by the matching button-up sweater, she reassures herself that Pete had just been joking about how indecent she’d looked.

“At least I can’t feel the cold,” she mutters to herself.

Martha walks up the stairs of the loft. “Heading out to the pep rally?”

“Yeah,” she answers, and waits until her mother gets to the top before extending her arms in presentation. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Martha says softly. “As full of Smallville spirit as your father.”

Clara sighs. “You don’t have to do this, mom.”

“Do what?”

“Play the Kent family peacekeeper.”

Martha straightens up Clara’s sweater. “Well, if the two of you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have to.”

She jerks away. “So you’re taking dad’s side?”

“No, Clara, I’m not. I told him he’s being unreasonable.”

She looks at her mother with relief. “Thanks.”

“Well, I’m not saying you’re entirely innocent here either,” Martha adds. “You should have gone about this a better way, I know you know that.”

Clara throws her hands up in frustration. “I had no choice! He was being impossible!”

She shakes her head. “There’s always a choice, Clara.”

When Clara refuses to meet her gaze, Martha touches her daughter’s jaw. “Sweetheart, if you want to make your own decisions, you need to be prepared to live with your mistakes.”

Clara huffs. “For the last time, it’s just cheerleading, mom,” she once again points out, doing her best to keep her voice even. “Besides, you trust me, don’t you?”

She sighs. “I do, Clara. And so does your dad. Just… give him a chance.”

***

A large bonfire is already set up by the time she arrives at the pep rally. Quite a crowd turns up for the event, and Clara happily joins her fellow cheerleaders in front of the bonfire to lead the cheer. Surrounded by her fellow students and the denizens of Smallville, for the first time in her life, Clara feels like she belongs rather than just being an outcast loser.

Knowing that, feeling that, makes it easier for her to keep repeating the phrase, “Come on, Crows, let’s go!” while making the same repetitive and frankly ridiculous movements with her arms.

She can almost understand why Lana quit cheerleading.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Clara and Pete, while most everyone is busy at the bonfire, Chloe goes to meet with Trevor. She wants a confession on the record, and considering how Coach Walt was abusing him and the incriminating photos she has, she figures Trevor will be the easiest to convince.

Trevor is fidgeting when she joins him in the tunnel leading from the locker room to the football field. He’s clearly anxious and keeps looking around, as though afraid they’re being spied on.

“Why did you call me? What do you want?”

Chloe doesn’t beat around the bush. “I want to know if Coach Walt supplied the players with the test.”

Trevor looks panicked. “Look, if you don’t want to get hurt, just leave us alone.”

“You can talk to me now or later. Either way, this picture’s going to be on the front page tomorrow,” Chloe tells him as she shows him one of the photos she's taken, of the disgraced football players and Coach Walt, surrounded by the inexplicable fire from the sprinklers.

He takes a deep breath before glaring at her. “Just leave me alone.”

Unfortunately for the both of them, Coach Walt witnesses the meeting. He follows Trevor and finds out from him that Chloe has photographic proof of their meeting the night before. Unwilling to let some nosy kid jeopardize his legacy, as he’s previously done for his attack on Principal Kwan, Coach Walt closes his eyes and summons fire.

Chloe is busy working on the layout of the front page, putting the damning photo below the headline ‘Playing with Fire,’ when her computer suddenly bursts into flames. It quickly spreads until her whole desk is set ablaze. As she backs away, a trail of flames quickly follows her across the room, forcing her to lean back against the window. Fumbling, she gets it open and desperately tries to signal for help.

Thankfully for her, Pete had noticed she isn’t anywhere to be seen, and so both he and Clara have been looking around, trying to find her. To her relief, Clara sees her frantically waving at her and calling her name, and the glow of the fire behind her.

“Chloe!” she cries out in alarm before sprinting into the building.

Successfully having caught Clara’s attention, Chloe looks around the room for an escape route. Seeing that the fire is only around her and her desk, she takes off her jacket and drapes it over her head, hoping to shield her bare skin. Taking a deep breath and grasping onto the inner lining of her jacket tightly, she jumps through the flames and lands on the other side of her desk. Quickly ditching her jacket as it’s now also on fire, she then tries to run out the door to make her escape, except the flames suddenly appear in front of the door, blocking her way.

“Oh god!” she gasps, as the fire surrounds her and moves ever closer to her, leaving her with no way out.

Clara, meanwhile, is zipping through the hallway as fast as she can towards the Torch office.

“Chloe!” she yells as she nears the office door, and her shout startles Coach Walt, breaking his concentration and causing the fire to immediately die down.

She storms into the room. “Chloe! You okay?”

“Clara!” Chloe squeals with relief and throws herself at her best friend.

Clara desperately hugs her back.

***

The fire thankfully does little structural damage to the Torch office. The filing cabinets, other desks and their computers are virtually unaffected, with only the loose sheaf of papers that had been left out burned – like the previous issues that had been laying on desks or their ongoing projects. The biggest casualty, however, is Chloe’s computer and desk, both of which are clearly unsalvageable.

“The Torch torched. How’s that for dramatic irony?” Clara quips.

Chloe glares at her.

She shrugs. “What? I’m just trying to get you to smile.”

“This was more than just arson, Clara,” she says firmly. “It’s like the fire knew what I was doing.”

“And you believe Coach Walt was somehow controlling it?” Clara can’t help but sound a little skeptical.

“Look at the facts. Principal Kwan launches an investigation into the cheating scandal, only to nearly be fried in his car. One of his players comes forward saying Coach Walt’s the one who supplied them with the test paper, and they’re threatened with pyrotechnic sprinklers. I’m about to print that picture and the Torch goes up in flames.”

Clara shakes her head. “What, now you think he’s behind the cheating scandal? Come on, Chloe.” She might not think Coach Walt walks on water like most of Smallville, but she can’t see what he’d be getting out of putting his career in jeopardy like that.

“Coach obsessed with winning his 200^th game helps bonehead players pass the test so he can secure his position in the pantheon of high school sports.”

Clara pauses. That actually doesn’t sound so implausible.

“Do you have another copy of the photo?”

Chloe gestures at the mangled computer and says dryly, “No, it’s kinda hard to recover the files.”

Clara bites her lip. “Then you don’t have any proof.”

“Trevor Chapell,” Chloe volunteers.

“What about him?”

She starts to pace. “I’m sure he’s the one who talked to Kwan about the cheating. He wants to talk, I know it. But he’s too scared to talk to me. Maybe he’ll open up to a fellow football player.”

Clara nods. “I’ll go find Pete.”

“And I’ll try and see what I can salvage,” Chloe says tiredly, mournfully staring at the remnants of her desk.

***

Unable to focus after Lionel’s visit, Lex heads into town with a stack of folders full of personnel files. If he hopes to run into Clara, then that’s no one else’s business but his own. He hasn’t seen her since he gave her the tickets to see the Metropolis Sharks, and he’d been surprised – though he really shouldn’t have been – when she’d given the tickets away anonymously to the quarterback and his little cheerleader girlfriend.

Considering he’s the only one in this town who could’ve possibly gotten the tickets to the skybox, thereby making it patently obvious who might’ve then given them away to the duo, the fact that neither of them have offered any show of gratitude to him – or to Clara – only tells Lex how stupid they both are.

Or perhaps he’s being overly harsh. They are just teenagers, after all, only concerned with the minutiae of their boring and pathetic lives. The only exception being Clara, of course – despite being just a freshman in high school, he can see there’s far more to her than that. And the fact that the male population of Smallville High seems to prefer someone like Lana to a genuine gem like Clara boggles his mind.

Lana is certainly pretty, and there’s this vulnerability that hangs about her that Lex figures is attractive to a small town quarterback, but Clara is stunning. Her startlingly blue eyes, long dark wavy hair, and striking features wouldn’t be out of place in any magazine. But more than that, there’s a well of inner strength and genuine goodness about her that, even in ill-fitting clothes, makes Clara incandescent. To someone like Lex, who’s used to people who are only interested in him for what he can do for them, Clara’s attitude is refreshing. And attractive.

Clara Kent is honestly wasted in this backwater town.

The Main Street of Smallville boasts very little in the way of entertainment, and the only place that seems somewhat tolerable is a coffee shop called the Beanery. Having heard Clara speak of it, Lex parks his car in front of the building and heads inside. He claims a seat at the back where he’ll have a relatively good view of the front door.

He sighs as he rifles through the papers in a folder, not looking forward to what he would have to do. Not long after he’s been at it, Lana comes over to take his order. Unwilling to interrupt what looks like important work, she hangs back a little and remains silent, smiling a little awkwardly as she waits, before realizing she's being a little creepy and clears her throat. When Lex looks up, he’s taken aback on seeing her. Closing the file he’s been reading, he smiles.

“You must be Lana, Clara’s friend. I’m Lex Luthor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“We’ve already met,” she informs him.

Lex tilts his head. “I seriously doubt I’d forget meeting you,” he says charmingly.

“You were a little preoccupied at the time,” Lana says rather flatly.

He leans back into his seat. “I get the feeling I didn’t make a great first impression.”

“When I was 10, I went to Metropolis for a riding competition. Your father invited us to stay over. My aunt said you had an indoor pool, and when I went to check it out, I found you and a girl skinny-dipping. I think you were teaching her the breast stroke.”

Lex has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “That was you? Wow.” Clearing his throat, he quickly looks around for a change of topic. Seeing the green apron, he quips, “Did Nell put you out on the street?”

“Actually, I decided to join the workforce,” Lana says rather proudly.

“Good for you. I’m sure you’ll be employee of the month in no time,” he responds with a bland smile.

She winces. “Right now, I hold the record for most dishes broken in a single day.”

Lex’s lips twitch in amusement. “Better bring my cappuccino in a Styrofoam cup, then.”

As Lana turns away to get his order, Clara enters the Beanery.

“Well, if it isn’t Smallville’s newest head cheerleader. I heard you were amazing,” Lana gushes.

Lex looks up and does a double take when he sees Clara in her cheerleading outfit. It’s a good thing he’s only just ordered, he thinks, as otherwise he’s sure he would have snorted or sprayed his drink all over the place. He does his best to look away from Clara, though it’s difficult when she seems the fulfillment of every fantasy he’s had as a teenager.

Clara shoots Lana a pleased smile. “Let’s see how I do tomorrow night first. How are you doing?”

“Today is one of those days I just want to scream,” Lana says wearily, though she tries to smile through it.

Clara gives her a look of sympathy. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s cool you got this job.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I’m not gonna get to see you cheer tomorrow. New girl gets the worst shifts.” Lana pulls out a pad. “So, can I get you anything?”

Lana had mixed up their order the last time, bringing them mochas rather than regular coffees, but both she and Pete had felt too sorry for Lana to complain, even if what they’d had sips of had tasted nothing like a mocha. Clara tries to think of a drink that Lana will screw up the least.

“Uh, maybe a cup of coffee,” she tries again. She figures it’s still the safest thing to order.

“Coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

As Lana walks away, Clara sees Lex and heads over to join him.

“Rumor has it Clara Kent joined the cheerleading squad,” he says teasingly.

“Rumor’s true,” she replies with a smile, gesturing at her outfit, before sitting down across from Lex. The uniform skirt rides up even more, and Clara fidgets as she tries to tug it down.

Lex forces himself to not stare at her long, shapely legs, or the patch of tanned skin that’s bared by her hip. He clears his throat. “Congratulations, by the way. Although I’m surprised your dad let you out of the house wearing that.”

Clara blushes. “It’s not so bad if I’m standing,” she points out, before sighing. “And my dad did freak out but not because of the outfit. He told me I couldn’t join the cheerleading squad. He’s being unreasonable and ridiculous. I mean, he claims I should make my own decisions, but then when I do he shuts me down!”

He nods knowingly. “Ah. So you’re out late, waiting for him to go to bed so you can avoid the uncomfortable silence that greets you when you get home.”

She bites her lip. “How did you know?”

“Luthors wrote the book on uncomfortable silences,” he says with an understanding smile, and she echoes it.

Seeing the piles of folders on the table, Clara asks, “What are you working on?”

Lex groans. “Trying to figure out which poor bastards should get the ax. My father wants me to cut 20% of my workforce.”

Clara frowns in concern. “Any way around it?”

“Once my father’s made his mind up, he’s not easy to turn around.”

Lana appears from behind them and puts the drinks down on the table. “If it makes you guys feel any better, you should have seen the look on my aunt’s face when I took this job. Not that I was eavesdropping or anything,” she adds as she perches on the arm of Clara’s chair.

Lex’s drink is in a tall glass mug with layers of whipped cream on top and with a bendy straw sticking out of it. He can’t quite mask his incredulous expression fast enough, causing Clara to stifle her laughter.

After a beat, Clara manages to get herself under control and says instead, “I guess we’re all in the same boat.”

“No, no. You both stood your ground and are doing what you want. I caved.” He lifts his mug in a salute. “You two have inspired me.”

Clara rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, joining the cheerleading squad and pouring coffees. We’re a couple of real rebels.”

“Long live the revolution,” Lana agrees with a smile.

“Cheers,” Lex says before sipping his drink, getting whipped cream on top of his nose and lips, which he hurriedly wipes off. He unfortunately misses a bit of it on his upper lip, and Clara resists the urge to wipe it off herself. Instead, she gestures slightly, and Lex’s tongue flickers out as he licks it off.

Clara knows she’s blushing, and to hide it, she looks down and grabs her coffee mug. When she lifts it up, she sees that it neither looks like nor smells like a regular coffee, and so refrains from taking a sip.

“How is it?” Lana asks, obviously anxious.

“It’s perfect,” Lex lies, and not all that convincingly. But Lana appears to believe him as she shoots them a relieved smile before heading back to the front.

Clara waits until she’s gone before turning to Lex. “Is that what you ordered?”

“Not even close,” he says dryly, and they share a laugh.

“How late are planning to stay out?” he asks, abandoning his drink on the table.

Clara shrugs and is about to say another hour or so, but seeing the stack of files, she changes her mind. The last thing she wants is to make Lex put off his work to entertain her.

“I should probably go home soon, actually,” she says instead. “Don’t want to be grounded.”

She inwardly winces. She can’t believe she’s displaying her age and lack of coolness to Lex, the very epitome of sophistication.

Lex thankfully doesn’t point out her utter lameness and instead asks, “Want a ride home?”

Clara hesitates. She wants to say yes, if only to spend more time with him, but she also doesn’t want to be a burden. In the end, her desire for his company wins out. “If you have the time-”

Lex stands up and starts to gather the files. “It’s on the way.”

It’s not, actually – the Luthor Mansion is in the opposite direction of the Kent Farm from the Beanery – but she gratefully nods anyway. “That’d be great, Lex. Thanks.”

As Clara relaxes into the leather seat and the high performance engine roars to life beneath her, she desperately hopes her parents have already gone to bed.

***

It’s not until the day of the football game that Pete finally succeeds in tracking down Trevor and getting the full story out of him. He paces in front of Chloe and Clara in the Torch office as he tells them what he’s discovered.

“You were right, Chloe. Trevor told me everything.” He shakes his head. “Can’t believe that bastard’s been getting away with this for so long.”

“Tell me,” Chloe demands somewhat impatiently.

“Apparently, Coach Walt beats the players if they make mistakes or don’t perform to the standard he expects, and threatens to throw them off the team and refuse to help them pass their classes if they tell anyone. And he did give them the math test. But the most freaky thing? Trevor’s arm has a burn on it in the shape of a hand. My guess? It’ll be an exact match to Coach Walt’s handprint. Dude’s terrified that Coach is going to fry him if he talks, and after seeing that, I can’t say that won’t happen.”

They exchange disturbed glances.

“So what now?” Pete asks. “If he can start fires with his mind or whatever, we can’t exactly confront him.”

“And there’s still no proof beyond Trevor’s word and his arm, and you said it yourself, he’s not going to come forward,” Clara points out. “I think we should wait until the game is over. Maybe after, with the pressure lessened, either Trevor or the other players will be more willing to speak up.”

“And if they don’t?” Chloe challenges.

“Then we can try and trap Coach Walt or something, and expose him somehow in front of enough people that it can’t be swept under the rug.”

Chloe reluctantly nods.

Obviously Clara isn’t going to wait that long, but she can’t exactly say that to Chloe or Pete. She makes up an excuse saying she has to go and pick up her uniform from home, but heads instead for Coach Walt’s office. She has to make this quick before the football players enter the locker room to get ready for the game.

She sees him in his personal sauna, which, according to the gold plaque by the door, is a gift to him from the Smallville High Alumni Association for his 20 years of coaching the Crows. It’s no wonder the man thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it if this is the kind of perk he receives.

After x-raying the sauna to make sure he’s not naked, she unceremoniously opens the sauna door.

“Kent? What are you doing here?” he demands.

“You aren’t walking out onto that field.”

Coach Walt growls. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but you do not want to tick me off right now.”

The moment Clara takes a step forward, she starts to feel the unfortunately familiar sensation of nausea and pain induced by the meteor rocks, and when she takes a quick look, she sees that the heated rocks are actually giving off the familiar green glow. As the veins of her hand bulge, she backs away from the door.

“I know what you did to Trevor’s arm.”

He snarls. “Trevor should’ve kept his mouth shut!”

To Clara’s relief, Coach Walt stands up and gets out of the sauna, following her.

The smile on his face makes it clear he thinks she’s done for, but Clara is far enough away from the meteor rocks that she’s fine. So when he tries to punch her, she blocks his fist with her palm and flings him away.

He grabs the nearest solid object – a fire extinguisher – and attempts to bash Clara with it, but she merely pulls it away from his grip before sending him flying through the glass wall of his office and into the boy’s locker room. His back hits a bench and he falls to the floor, clearly stunned.

Clara walks over as he struggles to sit up. “Coach, you need help.”

He gets up and backs away. “What I need is to win this game!”

“It’s too late for that.”

Coach Walt closes his eyes and concentrates, and the whole room bursts into flames. Clara looks around, unimpressed, and as the flames engulf her, she walks right through them, completely unharmed.

He shoots her a look of incredulity mixed with fear. “How did you do that?”

“It’s in the genes,” she says dryly. As she takes off her burning jacket, she inwardly winces. This is the third jacket she’s ruined in the last few weeks – her parents are going to kill her.

He takes another swing at her but she dodges it and sends him flying into the wall of the shower room.

“Give it up, Coach! You’ve lost!”

Clearly furious and frustrated, he screams. Whether it’s because he’s blinded by his anger or because he can’t control his powers, Clara isn’t sure, but as he roars in fury, fire rains down on him from all the showerheads.

“NOOOOO!” he screams as he is engulfed in a huge inferno. Clara takes a deep breath and blows it over him, hoping to use her arctic breath to put out the fire.

It’s the first time she’s deliberately used it, but she thankfully succeeds. When the fire goes out, she rushes over to his body to feel for a pulse. A breath whooshes out of her in relief when she feels it, even if it is weak. She speeds into his office and calls 911.

“911 emergency.”

“Coach Walt is hurt. The shower room was on fire and he was trapped inside. I used the fire extinguisher to put it out but he’s unconscious. He still has a pulse and is breathing,” she informs the dispatch.

After relaying the relevant information, she hangs up and quickly grabs the fire extinguisher. Clara then proceeds to spray Coach Walt's body, the walls, and everywhere else her arctic breath has reached.

It doesn’t take long before she’s joined by the staff, and soon after, the EMTs.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she gets asked more than once. When she tells them that she heard a horrific scream and rushed into the boy’s locker room and saw the fire with a person trapped inside, a few of the faculty members – and not a few students – also mention how they thought they too had heard a scream. Clara is congratulated for her quick action, which they assure her is what saved Coach Walt’s life.

“You did a great job, Clara,” she’s told.

They can’t figure out how the fire got started in the showers, and eventually blame it on faulty wiring. The football players who had witnessed Coach Walt seemingly able to conjure flames out of thin air remain silent.

***

Even though Coach Walt is rushed to the hospital, the game must go on. The assistant coach has the plays and takes his place, and the players on the football team vow to win the game for Coach Walt. If some of them are secretly glad that he and his temper won’t be around, they don’t mention it.

Once the hubbub dies down – more or less – Clara goes to find Coach Barbara. When she approaches, Coach Barbara has a resigned look on her face, and she doesn’t protest when Clara informs her she won’t be joining the cheerleading squad after all. Clara guesses she thinks she’s too traumatized by what happened to cheer, and doesn’t say anything to alter that impression. As much as Clara wants to belong and be liked, in the end she wants it to happen because she’s being herself and doing what she loves rather than because she’s trying to be what everyone else wants or expects her to be.

She wants to make sure she’s doing things for the right reasons, and not just because she can.

Clara still savors trying on the uniform one last time though before she takes it off for good and leaves it behind in the girl’s locker room.

“Were you here to make sure I didn’t give myself away?” she asks Jonathan after her parents have been sufficiently reassured that she’s unharmed. Martha quickly makes herself scarce so as to give the two of them the space to work things out.

He stops and determinedly meets her eyes. “I was here to support my daughter.”

Clara looks away, and the relief she feels causes her to tear up.

“Honey, I do trust you, but there’s always gonna be a part of me that’s a little afraid for you. But that’s just being a parent.”

“Thanks, dad,” she says, sniffling, and Jonathan tugs her into a warm hug.

“Clara, I just heard about what happened, are you okay?” Lana asks in concern as she hurries up to them.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Weren’t you working tonight?”

Lana sighs. “I got let go. Apparently I’m not waitress material.”

Clara is honestly not surprised, but she knows better than to say that. “Sorry. How did your aunt take it?”

“She said that it was a sign that I should seriously reconsider cheerleading,” Lana says wryly.

Clara shoots her father a knowing smile. “Parents. What are you gonna do?”

Jonathan laughs.

***

The next issue of Smallville Ledger, the local newspaper, carries the sad news that Coach Walt Arnold unfortunately passed away while being treated at the hospital. There’s only a single line mentioning the bravery of a quick acting student’s heroic rescue of Coach Walt, as most of the article is dedicated to his “exemplary” career as well as the Crows, who had won the game despite the setback and is now heading for the State Championships. There’s even a quote from Fordman talking about how they’ll be dedicating their Championship game to Coach Walt.

Lex puts the newspaper down when Lionel walks into his office, holding a file in his hands.

“Two trips in one week. I’m flattered, dad,” he says dryly.

“What is this?” Lionel asks, lifting up the file.

“It’s my new proposal. I worked out how to cut the operation budget by 20% without losing a single job,” he says proudly.

“Lex. I specifically told you to cut your workforce,” Lionel says, flipping through the proposal.

“Why? With this plan, you don’t get the bad PR,” he points out, and looks at his father as though the man’s confused.

Lionel closes the file. “That’s not the point.”

“Careful dad, you’re getting emotional.” Lex stands and picks up a sabre. “We could always try a rematch – or are you afraid you can’t take your son again?”

He smirks. “You get one.”

“One what?”

“One chance to defy me.”

Lex chuckles. “I can’t figure out what you hate more – the fact that my plan works, or that you didn’t come up with it first.”

“Just remember, empires aren’t built on clever bookkeeping.”

“Dad. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” His expression is serious and almost intimidating, and Lex can see that he’s managed to surprise his father.

His lips almost twitch into a smirk.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

After living in Smallville for more than a few weeks, the presence of Lex Luthor along its Main Street is no longer such a strange sight that his appearance largely goes unmarked by the populace. Of course, if Clara had seen him, she would’ve found it strange that he’s shouldering a red backpack of all things over his suit, or that he’s walking with no sign of a fancy car with personalized license plate parked on the street. But she isn’t, and so he is able to enter Smallville Savings & Loan with nary a quizzical glance aimed in his direction.

The manager, having spotted their most wealthy client, quickly hangs up the phone and gets up from his desk. Buttoning up his suit jacket, he hurries out to meet him.

Hand outstretched and with an ingratiating smile on his face, he greets him. “Mr. Luthor! What can I do for you today?”

Lex takes his hand with both of his – another odd sign – before saying, “I want to close all my accounts.”

The manager fights to maintain his smile. “May I ask why?”

“Is there a problem?” Lex asks pointedly.

His mouth gapes open a little before he hurriedly replies, “No! No, no, no, of course not. It’s… it’s just the Luthors have been banking here for 12 years. It’s quite a shock.” He doesn’t say anything further – he knows better than to cross a Luthor.

Lex smiles widely – an expression that doesn’t seem quite right on his face – before saying, “I’d like it all in cash.”

The manager forces himself to smile back. “We’ll do our best.”

When Lex nods, the manager grabs the nearest pen and paper. “Can I get your signature?”

“Certainly.” In another bout of strangeness, Lex signs his name using his right hand. Smiling at the manager, he passes over the slip of paper.

When the manager goes to check the signature against the one in the file, however, he realizes the signatures don’t match. Lex Luthor’s signature from when he opened his account is full of sharp lines and no extra flourishes, while the one he’d just been given is all curves and illegible scribbles. Frowning, he turns back to the man and does a double take as he realizes he very clearly is Lex Luthor, even if the signatures don’t match.

Thankfully, there are policies in place for this exact scenario, and he relies on that in his confusion.

“Mr. Luthor,” he says as he approaches the counter, still holding the two differing signatures in his hands. “May I see your driver’s license, please?”

Lex swallows nervously before tapping his foot and leaning his hands against the counter. He briefly glances down before looking back up. “Why?”

The manager gulps, clearly feeling anxious at what he believes is impatience from Lex Luthor. He points to the paper slips in his hands. “Th- the signature doesn’t match our records. I- I just need to verify your ID.”

“I’m standing right here in front of you,” Lex bites out as he slides the backpack off his shoulder and onto the counter in front of him. “What more do you need?”

The manager fights to keep smiling. “I’m sorry, it’s bank policy.”

To his complete surprise, rather than his wallet or his ID, Lex pulls out a gun from the backpack.

“I need the money now,” he growls.

As the manager stares in horror at Lex and then the gun aimed at him, Lex tosses him the empty backpack.

“Fill the bag,” he orders. There’s a feminine voice overlapping with Lex’s, but the manager doesn’t register it in his fear.

With the backpack full of stolen cash, Lex tears out of Smallville Savings & Loan as an alarm rings out from behind him. He turns left and runs along the street, the gun still clutched in his right hand. The sight of a running Lex is bizarre enough that the denizens of Smallville stare at him, and it quickly turns into horror as they see the gun.

As people scream and hurriedly get out of the way, Clara, who’d just arrived after school for a bout of window-shopping for her parents’ wedding anniversary, notices the commotion. She looks up only to see Lex sprinting in her direction. He bowls over a woman in the process without even stopping to ask if she’s all right.

“Lex, what’s going on?” Clara asks, holding Lex’s arms and forcing him to stop.

To her surprise, Lex looks angry rather than happy to see her.

“Get out of the way!” he bites out before tossing Clara through a nearby store window.

Despite knowing she’s nigh on invulnerable, she can’t help but cringe as she crashes through the window and the stands of displayed glasses and sunglasses before landing on her back among the shards of glass. She of course doesn’t feel any physical pain, but she can’t help the pang of hurt over Lex’s actions, before it hits her that Lex would never hurt her this way, and that isn’t just her crush talking.

She looks out the now glass-free storefront, and the bizarre sight of Lex with a red backpack over his left shoulder and a gun in his right hand makes it clear there’s something not quite right, as she knows for a fact that he’s left handed. Believing Lex is being coerced somehow, she automatically uses her x-ray vision on him, to see if there’s a wire or a bomb attached somewhere to Lex that’s making him act so out of character.

Clara doesn’t see anything of the sort. Instead, she spots an eerie green glow all throughout Lex’s skeleton, and the sight is strange enough to throw her for a loop. That’s not Lex she’s looking at – she distinctly remembers his spine and ribs all looking perfectly normal when she x-rayed his chest while doing CPR, and completely unlike the skeleton of this imposter in front of her.

When the fake Lex runs off, as much as Clara wants to give chase, she knows she can’t. There’s no way a normal human being, let alone a girl, would be able to easily run after having been tossed through a storefront window. Instead, she hurriedly brushes off the shards of glass still on her person and pretends to be in pain but mostly okay when enquiries come her way.

***

After reluctantly giving her statement to the sheriff’s office agreeing with the bystanders that the man who’d assaulted her had indeed looked like Lex Luthor, Clara rushes home to call Lex’s cell phone. It unfortunately goes straight to voicemail, so she tries the mansion next. Mrs. Palmer, who answers the phone, informs her Lex is away on a business trip to Metropolis, which has Clara breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Mrs. Palmer,” Clara says, before hanging up the phone.

“What did she say?” Martha asks as she brings over the last dinner plate to the table.

“Lex is away on a business trip to Metropolis. So it couldn’t have been him,” she answers triumphantly.

Jonathan shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean anything, Clara. He could have just told his staff that to cover his tracks.”

Clara frowns. “Lex didn’t do this, dad. I know he didn’t. His skeleton looked normal; this imposter’s, whoever it is, looked all weird.”

It’s clear her parents don’t believe her. Her father, seeing as he’s never had all that great an opinion of Lex in the first place, has no trouble casting him as a villain, but Clara is disappointed in her mother. She’d thought Martha wouldn’t judge him by his last name and would give him the benefit of the doubt, or at least trust her judgment; that she doesn’t hurts and leaves a terrible taste of disappointment in her mouth.

Clara opens her mouth to argue, but her parents make a concerted effort to keep the dinner conversation away from the elephant in the room and on far more pleasant topics. She wants to be stubborn and dig her heels in, but since they’re not forcing her to stay away from Lex for the foreseeable future, Clara decides to reluctantly follow their lead. She stiltedly answers their questions about school and her friends’ lives, and while she doesn’t really contribute much to their awkward dinner conversation, it’s enough to keep the peace for the duration of the meal.

Unfortunately, Lex’s imposter hadn’t just assaulted Clara. The Smallville Ledger’s front-page headline the next morning blares ‘Lex Luthor Robs Bank,’ accompanied by a still from the bank security footage. In the photo, Lex’s imposter – who does genuinely look exactly like Lex – is dressed in a suit, carrying a red backpack and aiming a gun at someone not in frame.

Clara, having opted to complete her chores first thing that morning, enters the kitchen only to see Jonathan and Martha, having already finished their breakfasts, reading the morning paper. Seeing the photo, Clara frowns.

“This is incredible. Why would Lex Luthor need to rob a bank?” Martha asks.

Jonathan gets up from beside her to pour himself some more coffee.

“I’ve seen some strange things in my day, but this definitely takes the cake,” he says. When he turns back around and sees Clara getting the milk from the fridge for her cereal, he corrects himself. “Well, almost.”

Clara attempts to smile back.

“He got away with $100,000,” Martha informs them.

Clara just barely refrains from forcefully placing the milk bottle on the table and breaking both it and the table in half.

“I know Lex. It wasn’t him,” she says for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Sweetheart, I know that he’s a friend of yours-” and Jonathan even manages to say that without too much of a pause- “but come on. You saw him with your own eyes.”

She shakes her head. “There has to be some kind of a reasonable explanation for this, dad. Lex didn’t do this.”

“I hope so, Clara,” Martha replies with a soft conciliatory smile as she puts down the paper.

“Me too,” Lex says, startling all three Kents who quickly turn around to see him on the back porch, standing behind the closed screen door. “I hate to think I have an evil twin.”

Jonathan is clearly displeased to see him. Martha, looking a little worried, says, “Lex, we didn’t hear you pull up.”

“May I come in?” Lex asks as he opens the screen door. “I promise I’m not packing heat,” he adds a little sarcastically, spreading his arms wide as he walks towards them.

Clara focuses her eyes, activating her x-ray vision. Seeing a normal skeleton without any green glow confirms what she’d known all along – Lex hadn’t been behind the assault or the robbery.

“Clara, you okay?” Lex asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

Realizing that she’s just staring at him, she tries to smile. “I’m fine, just spacing out a little.”

Martha clears her throat. “So not that we’re not glad to see you, Lex, but…”

“Why aren’t you in jail?” Jonathan bluntly asks when Martha falters.

“Because I was hosting a reception for 200 fertilizer distributors in Metropolis at the time of the robbery.”

Even as Jonathan and Martha look surprised, Clara’s relief – for him, not at finding out that he’s innocent – is nearly palpable. Knowing that Clara had believed in him despite the evidence suggesting otherwise – and had been willing to argue with her parents over it – touches Lex deeply.

“Do the police have any leads?” Jonathan asks.

“None. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, Clara. Your name was on the witness list. Did you actually see this person?”

“Yeah, he looked just like you.”

Lex exhales sharply. “Except his fingerprints and signature didn’t match mine. You sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you?”

Clara shakes her head. “I swear that if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it was you.”

“What’s going to happen now?” Martha asks.

“Well hopefully the money will turn up. In the meantime, the Metropolis tabloids will have a field day, and I’m sure certain people’s opinions of me will be cemented in stone.”

His glance at Jonathan doesn’t go unnoticed. Jonathan’s lips curl upwards in a facsimile of a smile.

“I gotta get to work,” he says, before putting down his empty coffee mug and heading out the door.

Once Jonathan leaves, Lex turns back to Clara. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks softly.

“I’m fine,” she says, before realizing how impossible that would be for a normal human and adds, “just bruised and sore, but nothing too bad.”

As Martha walks past them to put the dirty dishes in the sink, Lex dares to touch Clara’s hand. “I’m sorry you got thrown through that window,” he says.

Clara just knows she’s blushing. Much as she’d like to, she doesn’t tangle her fingers with his. She reminds herself once again that he’s just being friendly and kind.

“It’s not your fault, Lex,” she reassures him. “It wasn’t you.”

Lex taps the back of her hand in an absentminded gesture before pulling his hand away. “I promise I’m not a criminal mastermind,” he adds with a rather self-deprecating smile.

Clara does reach over then and stops him from pulling away. She squeezes his hand comfortingly as she smiles back. “I know. A criminal mastermind would have worn a mask.”

Lex’s laughter sounds uninhibited and genuine, and he is clearly taken aback by his own response.

Clara smiles in satisfaction at having successfully changed his mood.

***

After Lex leaves, Martha decides it would be less suspicious if Clara stays home from school for the day. A human girl, after all, wouldn’t be able to walk about and continue her day-to-day activities without obvious signs of pain, something Clara won’t be able to consistently fake.

She calls the school on Clara’s behalf, and when the principal greets her by stating he’d been expecting her call, she finds herself incredibly relieved that Lex had stopped by the house. She doubts any of them would have thought to keep Clara at home for the day, and no doubt Clara then would have been bombarded by curious looks and questions as to how she’s able to move around okay.

Clara naturally doesn’t mind, and is more than eager to stay home and relax. Unwilling to subject herself to Chloe hounding her about what had happened, she calls Lana instead to ask if she can pick up any homework assignments for her and lend Clara her notes. When Lana happily agrees, Clara hangs up and decides to tackle a couple of the books on her reading list that she’d borrowed from the local library but which she hadn’t had a chance to read yet due to the craziness of the last few weeks. Reading books – whether novels or non-fiction doesn’t matter – has always been her favorite past time, and she’s definitely missed losing herself in a good book.

Between that and a large delicious lunch she gets to enjoy courtesy of her mother, Clara is in a great mood when Lana comes by.

“Knock knock,” Lana says from behind the screen door.

“Hello Lana, come in,” Martha greets as she’s putting the last of the oatmeal and raisin cookie dough on a baking sheet.

“Hi Mrs. Kent, hi Clara. I bring with me a copy of the class notes and the homework that got assigned today,” she says, placing the sheaf of papers on the kitchen table.

“Thanks Lana.”

Before Clara can surreptitiously back away from the accursed meteor rock necklace, Lana asks, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m doing better,” she replies, though she can’t quite hide her wince as Lana moves closer.

Lana gives her a look of concern. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Even as Clara shakes her head, Martha asks, “Will you be able to stay for a while, Lana?”

The trays of cookies that are being put into the oven sufficiently distract Lana, and Clara is at last able to move to the other side of the kitchen to get some breathing room.

Lana eyes the cookies enviously even as she responds, “Unfortunately not, Mrs. Kent. I promised Nell I would be home right after school.”

“Well, I can have Clara run over in a little bit to bring you some of these cookies if you’d like.”

When Lana looks as though she might object, Clara pipes up. “It’ll be fine. I think walking around might do me good, actually.”

Seeing that Clara does appear to be better after having moved, Lana brightens as she makes her way out the door.

“Thanks Mrs. Kent. See you later then, Clara!”

***

Unwilling to cower away and let what happened dictate his habits, Lex drives into town. He can’t bring himself to enter, let alone buy anything, from Fordman’s department store, and so he instead stops at Nell’s Bouquet to order a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Clara, which he asks to be delivered to the Kent home, before going into the Beanery to get himself a cup of coffee. He ignores the rude stares and the whispers, well used to dealing with such attentions as the Luthor heir as well as from his ostracized years at Excelsior Academy. It also helps that he has Clara in his corner, willing to stand up for him even against her parents.

As he heads back to his car, he sees a balding man in a cheap suit holding a green folder in his hands, leaning on his Aston Martin convertible.

Hiding his annoyance, Lex instead lets his lips curve into a not-so-nice smile. “May I help you?”

“Roger Nixon, Metropolis Inquisitor,” the man says, holding out his right hand.

Lex minutely pauses before ignoring the outstretched hand. “Get off my car.”

Nixon blatantly continues to lean against the car as he shows off the front page of the Inquisitor, where a large picture of “Lex” from the robbery is featured prominently.

“That’s a hell of a picture, Lex,” he says, tapping it. “You know, it really boosted our sales.”

Lex doesn’t even deign to look at the paper. “I’ve read comic books with less fiction than your rag.”

“Well, how about this? Is this fiction?” Nixon asks, opening the green folder. “It’s your juvenile record. Fascinating reading. It must have taken a Brink’s truck of your dad’s money to keep all those people quiet.”

“Those records are sealed,” Lex states, rattled but refusing to show it.

“I’m a resourceful guy. You know, I saw this picture, and it got me thinking of doing a follow-up. 'Lex Luthor’s Wild Youth in Metropolis.' Does the name Club Zero ring a bell?”

“You print one word about that and I’ll sue,” he retorts.

Not at all threatened by Lex, Nixon smugly smiles. “Lawsuits take years. The genie will be out of the bottle and all the people will know that the new and improved Lex Luthor is nothing but a façade.”

Lex chuckles but it’s not a happy sound. “You know what I think, Rog? If you wanted to print that, it would already be in the paper. I think you’re looking for a payoff.”

As he rounds the front of the car, Nixon corrects him. “It’s a business proposition. $100,000 and these records will disappear forever.”

Lex opens the door and gets in the driver’s seat. “I’d question your integrity, but you’re a journalist.”

Nixon straightens up and holds out a card as he starts the car.

“Your father really thinks he can hide you here forever? You got 24 hours and that’s just the front page.”

Despite feeling furious, nothing is visible. Lex simply takes the card before speeding away with a screech of tires.

***

As promised, Clara brings over a dozen oatmeal and raisin cookies, and even Nell eagerly takes some despite her dislike of Martha.

“Thank your mother for me,” she says with a tight smile before she goes back into the house.

“Of course.”

Lana looks at the container of warm cookies Clara’s holding enviously before sighing as she examines her dusty hands and the storage still full of boxes and assorted knickknacks.

“Well, that just gives me more of an incentive to get this all done as quickly as possible!”  

“So is this your punishment for quitting cheerleading?” Clara asks.

Lana smiles wryly. “Nell’s got clutter issues. I’m trying to help resolve them.”

“She still hasn’t forgiven you yet for quitting the squad?”

“Not yet,” she admits.

“She will, especially when she knows how much happier you are.” Clara looks down at the half-empty container in her hand. “I can bring more treats for you to bribe her with if that’ll help.”

Lana laughs. “I might just take you up on that.”

“Well, at least now you’ll have some more time for your unpopular friends,” comes a voice from behind them.

“Tina!” Lana greets with a smile. “And you’re not unpopular,” she belatedly argues.

At the incredulous looks from both Clara and Tina – if there’s someone who’s even more of an outcast than Clara, it’s Tina – Lana adds, “Besides, what happened to a girl who didn’t care what people thought of her?”

“She went to high school.”

Lana looks at her sympathetically. “At least your mom doesn’t try to run your life,” she says, hoping to cheer Tina up, before going to the back to pull out yet another box.

“You know, you’re lucky that Nell cares about you. I mean, if something were to happen to my mom, I don’t know anybody that would take me in. I’d probably be shipped off to a foster home or something.”

Clara shoots Tina an odd look, and even Lana appears taken aback.

“Thanks for that burst of cheer,” Lana says.

“Well, what do you want me to say? You have the perfect life.”

“No one has a perfect life, Tina,” Clara points out. Sure she’d thought so at one time, but after having gotten to know Lex and Lana, she’d realized that while there are people who have it better than others, and even some who on the surface seem to have it all, they don’t, not really.

“You want my life, Tina? You can have it,” Lana tells her with a sigh.

“I’d settle for the outfit,” Tina replies with a smile. She then has to go make things weird again by saying, “Wouldn’t it be cool if we were sisters? If anything happened to my mom, do you think Nell would adopt me?”

Clara can’t help but think that Tina’s gotten even weirder over the years. She’s always been obsessive about Lana, true, but this seems a little too out there, even for Tina. She can’t help the thought that Tina is more of an alien than Clara, an actual alien.

“Tina, nothing’s gonna happen to your mom,” Lana says, before shaking her head. “Anyway, I didn’t see you at school today. Is everything okay? You didn’t get thrown into a storefront window like Clara, did you?”

Tina’s smile is tight. “Everything’s fine. So why are you here, Clara?”

Lana’s eyes widen at the obvious rudeness, but Clara just shakes it off. “I brought over oatmeal and raisin cookies to thank Lana for bringing me stuff I missed today in school.”

Tina looks over at Lana, anger and betrayal clear on her face. “You brought over notes for her but not me?”

Lana frowns. “Clara called me before school and asked me if I could. You never called and asked me for them, so how would I have known to do so for you? What’s gotten into you, Tina?”

Deciding that it would be best if she left before she could cause any more problems, Clara places the container down on the bed of a red truck. “I’ll see you later, Lana.”

“Bye Clara. Thank your mom for me!”

Neither Clara nor Lana see the narrow-eyed glare that Tina shoots Clara.

***

Determined to find out who has that distinctive green glow to their skeleton, Clara tags along with Martha as she runs errands around town. As she sits in the cab of the family truck, she uses her x-ray vision to scan everyone around her. Feeling a headache blooming behind her eyes, she’s about to stop when she sees the exact same green patch pattern as before. She sits up straighter and when she blinks to return to her normal vision, she’s surprised to see that it’s Tina’s skeleton she’d just seen. Once Tina enters her mother’s antique store, Clara hurries out of the truck and heads over.

“Clara?” Martha says in surprise when she spots her. “Did you see-?”

Clara nods. “I think it’s Tina Greer. She just went into the antique store.”

“Tina?” Martha is clearly taken aback. “Are you sure?”

She doesn’t answer. “Don’t you need to go to the antique store, mom?” she instead asks.

Martha slowly nods and allows Clara to open the door for her. The bell above the door jingles as they enter.

“Hello?” Martha calls out.

Rose Greer comes out from the back. “Mrs. Kent. I- I mean Martha. How are you?”

Clara’s eyes narrow slightly. Although she only knows Tina’s mother superficially, she can’t help but think she seems a little nervous given the way she’s fidgeting. Clara wonders if she knows what her daughter has done.

“Good. How’s business?” Martha asks politely.

She boasts, “Couldn’t be better. I’m doing so many estate sales in Metropolis, I’m thinking of selling the place.”

“That would be a shame,” Martha says, looking around at all the items carefully arranged in the shop. “I thought you loved the store.”

“Not really. I never wanted this life, it just kind of happened.”

As Martha looks taken aback at such a frank admission, Clara chimes in.

“Is Tina around?”

“Uh, she’s at Lana’s. They’re inseparable these days,” Mrs. Greer says with a smile.

Clara wonders what lies Tina’s been telling her mother. “Really? Because I just saw her coming in here-”

“You must be seeing things,” she states flatly.

Realizing she isn’t going to get anywhere with that line of questioning, Clara backs off. “Mom?” she instead prompts. “Aren’t you here to pick up the lamp?”

“Lamp?” Mrs. Greer asks.

Martha looks at her quizzically. “The one you were restoring for Jonathan?”

She blinks, looking a little taken off guard, before smiling again. “Oh yes, silly me. It’s in the back.”

Once Mrs. Greer leaves the counter, Clara gets busy scanning the store using her x-ray vision. Considering how weird Mrs. Greer is acting and the odd line of questioning and comments Tina had made earlier, Clara isn’t that surprised when she sees not just the green patches on the skeleton of the person heading towards the back, but a human body with a broken neck, stuffed in an antique wardrobe. She never would have thought Tina capable of murdering her own mother. Guess that shows her how much she knows.

“Mom?” Clara calls out as she opens the wardrobe door, and the body of the real Mrs. Greer falls out.

Martha’s gasp is loud. “Oh my goodness!”

Just then, Tina-masquerading-as-Mrs.-Greer returns. “It’s not quite ready, it’s…” she trails off once she sees the dead body on the floor.

Martha’s eyes are wide and horrified, and she looks back and forth between the dead body of the real Mrs. Greer and the imposter who looks exactly like her standing in front of them.

“Mom, go call the police,” Clara instructs.

As Martha hurriedly runs out of the store, Tina hollers, “No!”

She lunges forward to stop Martha, only to find herself blocked by Clara. To Clara’s surprise, Tina’s strength is far stronger than she expects – she grabs Clara’s jacket and easily flings her away.

Tina reaches for a heavy metal statue. “You should have stayed out of my life, Clara,” she snarls before bashing her in the head with it.

To Tina’s surprise, the statue crumbles and Clara gets up, looking as though nothing of import has occurred. Tina quickly morphs her body until she looks like Lana, then runs out of the store. Clara tries to give immediate chase, but Martha hurries back in just then.

“Clara!” she calls out anxiously. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, mom,” she reassures her before she starts to look for Tina-as-Lana. Unfortunately she can’t see her anywhere. She switches to her x-ray vision to track her, but Tina’s nowhere to be seen.

“Where did she go?” Martha asks.

Clara shakes her head in bewilderment. “I don’t know. I can’t see her anywhere.”

***

Besides the body of Mrs. Greer, the police find a $5000 brick under an antique chest from Smallville Savings & Loan. A careful search of the Greer home results in the red backpack seen in the security footage filled with most of the remainder of the cash. Between the evidence and eyewitness testimony from Martha and Clara – who carefully omit any mention of Tina being able to morph her body – a BOLO for Tina is sent out, as Sheriff Ethan believes her to have fled Smallville by now.

Clara’s not sure about that, but she also knows there’ll be no way for the police to find Tina, not when she can morph her body to look like anyone else’s.

“Are you sure?” Jonathan asks.

Martha nods. “I know what I saw, Jonathan. She looked exactly like Rose Greer.”

“And she looked exactly like Lex and Lana too. The only reason I could tell the difference was because of the way her skeleton looked. It was all… weird, with green patches everywhere.”

“The weird skeleton is probably because Tina was born with soft bone disease,” Martha explains. “They had that poor girl on all those experimental drugs. Doctors didn’t believe she’d live to see first grade.”

Jonathan points out, “She did get better though, right around her third birthday.”

Clara’s eyes widen. “That was right after the meteor shower, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Jonathan trails off. “This is crazy, Clara. People can’t just change their appearances at will-”

“Considering the powers we’ve already seen, is it so out of the question?” she argues. Before her parents could say anything, Clara mentions, “And Tina was strong, dad, really strong. Whatever the meteors did to give her the ability to change her appearance, it gave her strength too.”

“What do you think Tina’s doing?” Martha asks.

“I have no idea. All I know about Tina is that she idolizes Lana and is obsessed with her.”

“Should we tell the police?”

Clara frowns before shaking her head. “They won’t be able to do anything. Tina can turn into whoever she wants, and I’m the only one who can tell the difference.”

Martha and Jonathan exchange worried looks.

***

At school the next day, all anyone can talk about is creepy Tina and how they’d known all along she was bad news. The only exception is Lana, who refuses to believe that Tina killed her mother or that she robbed the bank and framed Lex Luthor for it.

“I saw it with my own eyes, Lana,” Clara says gently, braving the meteor rock necklace to warn her.

Lana sighs. “I’ve known Tina for years, Clara. Longer – and better – than I’ve known you.   There has to be an explanation for this.”

She feels a pang of sympathy for Lana, hearing the same defense that she’d made for Lex to her parents. The only difference being Lex is innocent while Tina really is guilty. She blushingly thinks of the beautiful bouquet of flowers that Lex had delivered to the house, which she’d put on her nightstand before her father could object.

Unable to stand there any longer, Clara turns to leave and adds, “Maybe we just don’t know people as well as we think we do.”

Leaving troubled-looking Lana behind, Clara heads off to track down Chloe. She breathes a silent sigh of relief when the pain and weakness disappears.

Surprisingly, however, the blonde refuses to even listen to her, claiming she’s busy with another important task. Clara’s not sure what could possibly be more important to Chloe than another freaky Smallville incident, but when her attempt to elaborate only gets her kicked out of the Torch office, she doesn’t bother trying to argue again. Instead, she leaves Chloe to her digging through the Torch archives and enlists Pete for assistance.

“So you’re telling me Tina Greer can bend her bones like a contortionist and become anybody she wants?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, this is usually Chloe’s territory. She’s the friend who does the tales of the unexplained. So why don’t you give her a call?”

“I did. She said she was busy with something else.”

Pete looks taken aback. “You realize that’s like getting turned down by the National Enquirer?”

Clara sighs. “Tell me again why we’re friends?”

“Because even when I think you’re crazy, I show up ready to rumble. And speaking of rumble, what makes you think Tina is still around Smallville?”

“I don’t know. A hunch?”

The antique store still has the yellow caution tape around it, although the sheriff’s office doesn’t have anyone watching the store. She and Pete enter through the back entrance.

Pete purses his lips. “Alright. So what now?”

“Now we look for clues.”

He eyes the mess the police have left behind. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“C’mon, Pete. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He sighs but readily follows her as she heads upstairs.

***

“There’s nothing here,” Pete comments after they’ve gone through everything. “No wonder the cops took off.”

Clara sighs and tries to think. “We know she’s obsessed with Lana. In fact, she was asking Lana yesterday whether Nell would adopt her if something happened to her mom.”

Pete shudders. “That’s just creepy.”

“But she can’t go around as herself anymore. So maybe she’ll impersonate someone else Lana is close to?”

He frowns. “Lana’s friendly, but she doesn’t have a best friend, not since…” he trails off, before clearing his throat. “Whoever she pretends to be, she’s gotta approach Lana, right?”

Clara slowly nods. “And Lana certainly was sticking up for Tina this morning. If Tina wants a sympathetic ear, she won’t find someone better.”

“And Lana’s definitely nice enough to buy whatever crazy shit Tina’s selling.”

She can’t argue with that. “Guess I’ll just have to stick to Lana like glue,” she huffs.

Pete’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Good luck.”

***

Meanwhile, at the mansion, Lex waits for Nixon while lounging in a single armchair positioned just so from the fireplace. There’s a roaring fire that comfortably wards off the chill, and stacks of money on the table next to him. The threat of his foolish past reaching the masses – reaching Clara – is an effective leverage, he admits, and he can practically hear his father’s lectures on how if only he’d behaved himself as a Luthor, none of this would be necessary… and he hates how he can’t argue with that.

He reaches for a tumbler of scotch and takes a fortifying sip when Nixon enters.

“Can I fix you a drink?” he offers almost pleasantly, holding up his glass.

Nixon eyes the cash greedily before looking up at Lex. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon get my money and get out.”

“Of course,” Lex says, his voice gentle, and gestures at the money.

“I assume I don’t have to count it.”

“I’ve even supplied the bag.” Lex throws said bag to Nixon, who starts filling it with the bundled up cash.

Lex smiles. “You’re feeling pretty good about yourself right now, aren’t you?”

Nixon doesn’t answer.

“You’d think with all the money my father’s spent, he could make things disappear.”

“Maybe he’s not as smart as he thinks,” Nixon retorts.

Lex’s brows rise up before he tilts his head as though agreeing with him.

Nixon drops the green folder on the table before zipping up the bag. “The original. Have a nice life.”

As he makes his way to the door, Lex says nonchalantly, “If you walk out that door, I will make you disappear.”

He stops and turns back. “What are you gonna do? You gonna have me killed?” he says skeptically.

Lex smiles and puts down his drink. “No. You’ll be very much alive.”

As Lex gets up and heads to the wall where there are cues and billiard balls neatly arranged, he adds, “But there won’t be any evidence of your existence.”

“What are you talking about?” Nixon asks warily.

He doesn’t bother to look over at Nixon as he grabs a cue. The pool table shows a game in progress, and Lex walks over to where the white cue ball has been left. “Your driver’s license, passport, social security number, and bank account will all be erased.” Lining up his shot, he adds, “With one call, I can ensure that there will be no record that you actually walked this earth.”

“You’re bluffing,” Nixon says, although the pallor of his skin suggests he knows it’s very much possible.

Lex finally looks at him. “Call your bank, see if your account still exists.”

Without looking away, Nixon pulls out his phone from his pocket.

“That is if your cell phone hasn’t already been disconnected,” he adds with a chilling smile.

As Lex sinks the solid red ball into a corner pocket, Nixon tries and fails to make a call. His hands shake and he nearly fumbles the phone.

“What did you do?”

He winks. “Don’t worry, Roger. I’m going to give you a new identity.” Lex grabs the cue ball and tosses it in the air before catching it. “One that’s a little less upstanding. Maybe a murderer. Maybe a drug dealer.” He shrugs and places the ball back down onto the felt-covered table and lines up another shot. “Either way, you’ll lose your job, your house, and your family.”

Clearly panicking, Nixon steps forward. “Look, I’ll give the money back.” He tosses the bag onto the pool table before adding earnestly, “Then we’ll be even.”

Bizarrely, Lex smile almost looks kind. “No, we won’t. Because I also know your brother works for the juvenile court. What’d you tell him? Steal the records and you can make some quick cash? He could do time for that.”

Nixon bites out, “Leave him out of this.”

Lex’s smile disappears. “I didn’t get him involved, Roger. You did.”

As Nixon looks pained at the reminder, Lex stalks around the pool table towards him.   Gesturing sharply at Nixon with his cue, he nearly snarls, “You came into my life thinking you could shake me down because I was some spoiled rich brat who needed his daddy’s protection.”

When Nixon appears utterly terrified, Lex stops moving. “Trust me, when I make things disappear, they stay buried.”

“What do you want from me?” he nearly whispers.

Lex’s mood shifts once more. “Your help,” he replies lightly.

He puts down the cue onto the table before moving towards his desk. “My father’s obsessed with the Daily Planet. But I know the Inquisitor is read by the people; they’re the ones I’m interested in.”

He folds yesterday’s issue of the Inquisitor in half and gestures it at Nixon. “I will feed you stories and you will print them. Any negative stories about me you’ll kill,” he orders as he thrusts the paper at Nixon’s chest. “You’ll be at my disposal 24/7. Got it?”

As Nixon walks away with his tail between his legs, looking equal parts satisfied and relieved, Lex finishes the remains of his drink.

***

Clara figures the best way to keep an eye on Lana is to invite her over for dinner and maybe even suggest a sleepover, though she’s unfortunately forced to reconsider when she recalls the presence of Lana’s meteor rock necklace. A few minutes’ exposure some distance away is, if not exactly good, bearable; being in close quarters for hours at a time isn’t something Clara can handle, not without arousing Lana’s suspicion. And so, despite feeling like a voyeur, Clara has to resort to surreptitiously spying on Lana – and particularly her house – using her telescope.

When Tina still hasn’t shown herself and Martha calls for her for dinner, Clara eagerly abandons her spying. In all honesty, she’s rather relieved; using her telescope to spy on a neighbor – no matter her intentions – is still creepy as hell, and she’s looking forward to taking a break during dinner to rest and relax a little.

Once dinner is over, Clara is about to force herself to return to her perch when she hears someone jogging towards the house. From her porch, she sees Lana slowing down before walking over.

When Clara quickly checks to make sure it’s actually Lana, she looks at her rather quizzically.

“Clara, what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Clara blinks and forces her vision to return to normal. “Sorry, it’s nothing. I wasn’t sure it was you.”

Lana hesitates. “This is a bad time.”

“No,” Clara reassures her. “What is it?”

She sighs. “I was out jogging, didn’t want to go home. Kinda ended up here.”

Clara leans against the railing. “Is everything alright?”

“I found my mother’s diary,” Lana confesses. “Discovered that a lot of the things I’ve been feeling, she felt too. ”

“That’s great.” When Lana doesn’t exactly look pleased, Clara adds, “Isn’t it?”

Lana releases another sigh. “It’s great and it’s frustrating and it’s scary. It’s like she could see right through me, through the person that everybody sees to the person that I am, that I want to be. Do you ever feel like that?”

Clara gives a wistful smile as she looks up at the sky. Ever since she’s learned the truth of her origins, she’d desperately dreaded and desired to find someone who could see the real her, who she could tell her secrets to and know that they wouldn’t treat her any differently for them. She wants more than anything to have that confidante, more than being normal, even.

“When I was reading her words, it was like she was talking to me. And then she was gone.”

Clara exhales. “You’re lucky… you’re lucky you got at least that.”

Lana gives her a look of apology before she tentatively asks, “Have you ever tried to find your parents? Your biological parents, I mean.”

“I wanted to, for the longest time. But now… I’m not sure I want to. I figure they’re a million years away from my life now,” she says, once again staring up at the stars.

Lana shoots her a smile. “If you could ask them a question, what would you ask?”

Clara doesn’t return it. “What happened? Why’d they let me go? How do I make sense of all the… strangeness in my life?”

“I guess neither of us will ever get a straight answer,” Lana concludes sadly.

Clara looks over at her. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

With a small smile, Lana leaves. And Clara decides to discretely follow her just in case.

***

When Lana enters the house to no doubt shower and change, considering their earlier conversation, Clara figures she’ll most likely go to her parents’ gravesite afterwards. A quick look around and she spots a promising tree with thick branches that she can sit on that’s far enough away that she’ll largely remain hidden while still close enough to look out for Tina.

It’s so boring, however, that she feels her eyelids start to droop. She only wakes up when she hears approaching footsteps, but relaxes again when she realizes it’s only Whitney, wearing his trademark letterman jacket.

Believing that under the cover of darkness Tina will approach Lana as herself to plead her case, and as she’s unwilling to intrude on what will likely be a private moment between the estranged couple – she knows they’ve yet to make up from their fight – Clara decides to leave them be and heads for home.

She’s nearly out of the woods when she hears a horrified gasp. She turns around and suddenly, it’s as though her vision has gained a zoom lens. She sees that it hadn’t been Whitney but Tina all along. Tina, now in the guise of Lana, rips the meteor rock necklace from Lana’s neck and tucks it in the jacket pocket before starting to choke her.

Clara runs back at full speed. “Let her go, Tina!”

Tina drops Lana before turning around to face her. “Tina doesn’t exist anymore!” she yells.

As Clara falters, feeling the effects of the meteor rock necklace, Tina throws her, and her back hits a tombstone, which crumbles beneath her.

Tina stalks towards her, holding a metal pipe. With the effects of the meteor rock, she can’t fend off Tina, and she groans as Tina swings the pipe and hits her, sending her flying through the air once more before crashing down rather painfully against yet more tombstones.

“What’s the matter, Clara? Not feeling well?” she sneers.

“I know what it’s like to live with a secret,” she pants out, trying to reason with Tina.

“That was a lifetime ago,” Tina tells her, and takes off Whitney’s letterman jacket and flings it away. “And don’t worry about Lana – you’ll be joining her very soon.”

With the weakness brought on by the meteor rock gone, Clara is able to speed out of the way when Tina once again swings the pipe at her.

“Tina, you need to stop this.”

“Stop calling me Tina!” she screams as she charges at Clara.

Clara grabs the pipe and tries to jerk it away. Except Tina refuses to let go, and as Clara throws it away, Tina, still holding onto it, hits a tree. When she falls down onto the ground, she loses consciousness and returns to her own form.

“Lana!” Clara calls out as she dashes over to her. She checks her pulse and sees that it’s strong, and that she’s breathing.

Clara lets out a sigh of relief.

***

While Lana is being seen to by the EMTs, Clara demurs, claiming she’s fine. With no one having been witness to Tina flinging her around, they take her at her word and leave her alone. Once their statements are taken by the deputies, the two of them remain standing outside Lana’s house, watching as Tina is restrained and loaded onto an ambulance.

“You were right,” Lana says at last. “I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did after all.”

“Everyone has a dark secret they’re hiding, Lana. It’s not your fault you didn’t know Tina’s.”

Just then, Clara spots Chloe heading towards them. “Hey, I heard about what happened.”

“Did you come by to see if I was okay or for the latest scoop?” Clara asks, still a little miffed that she’d gotten the brush off from the blonde earlier.

“Actually, neither,” Chloe says pointedly. “As concerned as I always am about your personal wellbeing, I’m not here to see you.” She turns to Lana and adds, “So, um, I did some digging.”

She hands over a tape that has ‘Graduation Address 1977’ written on it.

“What is it?” Clara asks.

“Oh my God,” Lana says, as she carefully takes the tape. “It’s my mother’s valedictorian speech. How did you find this?”

Chloe shrugs. “If I told you I’d have to kill you, and it looks like you’ve had enough trauma for one night.”

Lana smiles, and her fingers trace her chest where the meteor rock necklace would normally be. “Chloe, thank you.”

“No problem.”

When the real Whitney arrives with the familiar letterman jacket in hand, Clara leaves them to make up and heads for her parents.

“How’s Tina?”

“She won’t be able to hurt anyone else,” Martha assures her.

Clara wants to ask her how, but figures maybe it’s best for her not to know the answer.

“I still don’t understand why she would do all that,” Jonathan says.

Clara sighs. “I do. You go through life with a gift you have to keep a secret. When you see everyone around you being normal, you get jealous. You just want to be somebody else.”

Martha and Jonathan tug her close between them. Her telescopic vision once again kicks in, and Clara looks all around her and then up at the sky, where she’s able to see far more than she’s ever seen before with her naked eye.

“Mom, if you could see anything, what would you do?”

Martha looks at her kindly. “Learn to close my eyes.”

Clara nods, and does just that.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

The Kents live very much hand-to-mouth, with little money collecting in their savings account. Martha, despite having grown up in a wealthy family – if nothing to the Luthors – doesn’t complain, because she knows how sensitive Jonathan is about their financial situation and her family is definitely worth sacrificing some material comforts. She’s always done what she can to pitch in, and she’s proud of the fact that her organic produce and her baked goods have been quite instrumental in helping keep their farm afloat the last couple of years. Jonathan, who hadn’t known what to feel when Martha had first started these side ventures, has long been completely on board.

Still, no matter how great Martha’s initiatives are, they can’t completely reverse the Kents’ financial troubles. And that fact becomes ever clearer as they diligently work on the farm books that morning in the kitchen. Martha had hoped the recent increases in revenue from additional produce orders might have been enough to make a difference, but as they are tallying it all up, the grim outlook remains.

She still can’t help but hope – however futilely – for it to be otherwise as she continues to type into the calculator. “The distributor gets 12,5.”

“The feed bill over 6 months at 5%,” Jonathan brings up as he gets up from the table and heads for the coffee maker to pour himself some more coffee.

“Plus the mortgage at 8.2. Plus the harvester repairs gives us-”

“$54,501.38,” Clara answers as she enters the kitchen. She’d opted to finish her chores early that morning so she can hang out with Lex after school.

Her parents can’t quite suppress the look of surprise and guilt on their faces as they meet her gaze.

“Hey, uh, Clara, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for you to hear all that,” Jonathan says with a wince.

Clara has long since known the farm’s not doing well, but she’d wanted to know just how badly things are without her parents telling her not to worry or sugarcoating it. And so when she’d overhead them working on the farm finances, she’d deliberately kept silent as she’d watched from the porch, knowing they’ll stop the moment they see her.

She turns on the tap to wash her hands. “You don’t have to protect me. Is it that bad?”

As Clara dries her hands with a towel, Martha looks down, unable to meet her eyes. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. We might have to take out a bank loan.”

Clara’s eyes widen. “Another one? The interest alone would put us up to-”

“Clara, don’t,” Martha bids.

She reluctantly does so and shakes her head when Jonathan offers her a pop tart. She suddenly isn’t all that hungry.

“Maybe I can help,” she offers.

“You already have,” Jonathan tells her with a smile. “Last season you saved us 2 part-time hands.”

“I’m thinking bigger picture. You know, forget about this whole high school thing and become a sports star. I could make a ton of money in endorsements.”

Seeing the looks from her parents, she quirks her lips. “Just trying to lighten up the mood.”

“As much as we’d love to see your face on a cereal box, we’d settle for you getting to school on time,” Martha pointedly remarks.

“Right,” she says, and zips upstairs to gather her things. When she speeds back downstairs, she’s shrugging on her coat, her backpack in hand.

Clara pauses to look down at the farm books.

“That’s $66,201,” she points out.

“Go!” Martha scolds, and Clara zips away again.

***

Clara knows that no one’s life is perfect. And despite her status as a loser, she doesn’t doubt that among the students of Smallville High, there are some who would envy her life if they knew the full extent of it. After all, she has parents who love her, perfect health except for when she’s around meteor rocks, and an array of powers that are a burden and proof of her alien-ness to her, but which others may find amazing. Still, she can’t help but feel resentful as she watches them go about their day, their conversations full of mundane minutiae that she yearns to be a part of but can’t help but be completely disconnected from, especially when she knows that her home is at risk.

Her friends unwittingly make it worse.

Lana and Whitney are disgustingly happy with each other now that they’ve made up, and she’s proudly sporting a gorgeous necklace from him. Ever since the whole thing with her mother’s diary and the graduation speech, Lana has stopped wearing her meteor rock necklace. Clara had been relieved and happy for her, hoping it means that Lana is no longer so hung up on her dead parents and that she’s moving on with her life. But after having worn something around her neck for years, to now be without anything had been making Lana feel naked. When she’d mentioned it to Whitney, being the good boyfriend that he is, he’d bought a new necklace for her. As glad as Clara is for Lana, she definitely could’ve done without the exuberant hug and kiss and the showing off of the necklace.

Pete, meanwhile, has learned that his mom is getting herself a new car, and so her old one will soon be his. The car’s still in great shape and he’s busy trying to decide what new paintjob he should get, and so is busy soliciting advice from all and sundry and grinning with delight all the while. As for Chloe? She’s busy complaining that her father has already started discussing summer vacation destinations despite it being only November, and in any case, how she plans to apply for a summer internship with the Daily Planet, which will be much more fun in her estimation.

Therefore, when the bell rings signaling the end of classes, Clara escapes before she hears any more about everyone else’s good fortune. That she chooses to seek sanctuary at Lex’s is incongruous, she knows. After all, he’s a billionaire who lives in a mansion and drives fancy cars; if there is anyone she should avoid to reduce the risk of resentment, it’s him. But despite all the trappings of wealth, Lex doesn’t flaunt it; it’s the very least important thing about him, and he gives off the impression that were it all to be taken away tomorrow, he would not just land on his feet but thrive.

And there’s something almost… comforting about that.

Lex is clearly surprised to see her so early, since she usually goes home first to do her chores. Still, he greets her with a smile and leads her to the soft leather couch in his study that’s taken place of the armchairs.

Clara can’t help but wonder if he’d put it there just for her.

Once he returns to his desk and his laptop, Clara digs through her backpack for her homework. She hasn’t been at it for long when she hears approaching footsteps before the door unceremoniously opens.

“Lex, I was thinking-” Nell Potter pauses as she sees her on the couch. Her eyebrows tick up in astonishment. “Clara.”

Clara sits up, surprised at Nell’s sudden appearance. She doesn’t know why Nell is here or why Lex’s staff is letting her just barge in to his study without any warning. She darts a quick glance over at Lex, but despite being disturbed, he appears completely unruffled.

“Hi Nell,” she greets somewhat awkwardly. She’s never really liked Nell. The mixture of pity and distaste in Nell’s gaze when looking at her – not to mention her clear dislike of Martha even as she fawns over Jonathan – ensures that although Clara is polite to her as a daughter raised by Martha Kent should be, she has never thought well of her.

If Lex notices the uncomfortable tension in the room, he doesn’t let on. “Nell’s organizing Lana’s birthday party, and I offered up the mansion’s ballroom for the occasion.”

“That’s great,” Clara says, even as she feels yet another spark of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t know what she’s more jealous of – Lex’s familiarity with Lana – enough to actually offer up his home – or the fact that Lana’s birthday party will be in an actual castle, like some kind of a fairytale. She does her best to smother it. “I’m sure it’s going to be a party to remember.”

Nell snaps to attention at that. “Well I’m certainly going to try my best.” Dismissing Clara, she turns to Lex. “I’m going to hire an event planner, Lex, and-”

“I’ll let Mrs. Palmer know, make sure they’ll have access.”

Having achieved her objective, Nell shoots Lex a distracted smile in thanks before leaving, already preoccupied with her cell phone.

“So Lana’s birthday party, huh?” Clara says once she can no longer hear Nell’s footsteps. She’s relieved to hear her voice sounding completely normal, free of any jealousy with just the right amount of curiosity.

“Nell’s an old family friend.”

She nods in understanding. At least that answers the question of why Lex would offer up his home for the event, even if the place is a mansion. “Still, it’s really nice of you. A birthday party in a castle ballroom? It will literally be a fairytale. I’m sure Lana will love it.”

Clara is able to muster up a smile, but she doubts it’s as sincere as it should be. She looks away. She can’t deny that she’s excited to finally be able to attend a birthday party. She’s never gone to one before, at first because her parents had refused to let her for fear that she’d give herself away, and then as she grew older, because she’d lacked friends and nobody would invite her to anything. By the time she’d finally had a person she could call a friend, Chloe’s dad had opted to take the blonde to Metropolis for her birthday and so she hadn’t thrown a party in Smallville. Still, the knowledge that she’ll definitely be invited this time around doesn’t erase the envy she feels at Lana getting to have a fairytale party in a veritable castle when all Clara had been able to get for her birthday had been a cake she hadn’t been able to eat.

Before Clara can chastise herself for such ungrateful and ungenerous thoughts, Lex gives a careless shrug. He stands and approaches the couch.

“Now, tell me, how’s your history project going?”

***

It turns out Nell has invited the entire student population of Smallville High to Lana’s birthday party. The invitations are actually all mailed out, and the fancy calligraphy on the pink stationary are so perfectly Lana that Clara is once more envious over the fact that Lana not only has someone who knows her so well, but can also afford to throw her the best birthday party the town has ever seen. Not to mention that everyone invited will undoubtedly show up, all willing to offer the birthday girl their best wishes, even if they may not like that they have to be at the Luthor Mansion to do it.

So it frankly rather irritates Clara that Lana doesn’t seem appreciative enough of her aunt’s efforts. She’s not being mean or obvious about it – it is Lana, after all – but when she begs Clara to come over to her house to help her study for the math midterm, despite having just studied for the damn thing for all of last week, Clara almost turns her down. She even starts to regret a little that she no longer has the meteor rock necklace as a reason to avoid Lana. She’d enjoyed the fact that she could hang out with her without reservation or having to come up with excuses as to why she couldn’t… Until now, that is.

Except Lana looks so pitiful and hopeful that despite her irritation, Clara finds herself saying yes anyway.

“What did the princess want?” Chloe asks when Lana rushes off to say bye to Whitney.

“My help studying for the math midterm.”

Chloe scowls. “Again? But I need help too and I’m your best friend! Don’t I get priority or something?”

“I already told her I would, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you too. Why don’t you join us? I’m sure Lana won’t mind.”

The blonde’s smile is tight. “No thanks. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your alone time with your new BFF.”

“Chloe, just because I’m hanging out more with Lana doesn’t mean you’re not my best friend,” she says reassuringly.

“Some best friend,” she snaps. “I barely get to see y- you know what? Whatever. I’ve got things to do.”

“Chloe!” Clara calls out as she stalks off.

Before she can chase after the blonde, Lana waves her over. “Come on, Clara! Whitney’s going to give us a ride!”

Sighing, Clara joins the duo, promising herself she’ll catch up with Chloe afterwards and make it up to her.

***

Pete doesn’t quite understand just why Chloe is mad at Clara and refusing to join Lana’s study session, but he knows better than to object or otherwise prod the blonde and make her upset with him. And so, as math isn’t exactly either of their strong suits and they really do need someone to help them study for the midterm, he suggests Jodi Melville. The redhead is the only other person in the class who not only knows the material well enough to teach someone else but also is nice enough that she’ll most likely agree to a last minute tutoring session.

Jodi had actually been one of the most popular girls in Smallville until she’d started to gain weight. Between the loss of her popularity and a plethora of mean comments later, and it’s not exactly a surprise to find that she’s become fixated with her weight and figure. She might still have been able to make friends among the less popular set, except her preoccupation with her body and her obsession with losing the excess pounds has alienated everyone who might have tried to become her friend.

Seeing Jodi still sitting in the back of a classroom, Chloe and Pete make their way over. As they walk up to her, Chloe sees that she’s pasting photos of her own face on the bodies of models from magazines in her book. When she sees Jodi cut the head off one of the models in a bikini, she can’t help but remark, “Cutting the heads off supermodels. It’s kind of redundant, isn’t it?”

Jodi smiles up at them awkwardly before closing her notebook and the magazine in front of her.

“Just looking for outfit ideas. I still don’t have anything to wear to Lana’s party.”

Before Chloe can make a quip about bikinis not being appropriate wear to a birthday party in November, Pete opens up her notebook. Jodi quickly closes it again, nearly catching his fingers in its pages, before asking, “What’s up?”

Chloe glances at Pete before turning back to Jodi. “Uh, Pete and I were kind of hoping you could give us a quick algebra download,” she says hopefully.

Jodi hurriedly begins to gather her things, as though afraid Pete might look through her notebook again if it remains within reach.

“I thought Clara usually helps you guys.”

“She’s a little preoccupied helping the birthday girl,” Pete replies with a shrug.

“Oh,” is all Jodi can think of to say in response.

“We’ll even spring for food,” Chloe offers with a smile, hoping that’ll convince her.

Jodi agrees to help them but declines the offer of food. Instead, once they settle down to begin their tutoring session, she pours a thick, lumpy green concoction out of a thermos into a cup.

Pete looks at the green liquid rather unenthusiastically. “That looks, uh, appetizing.” He tries for a smile but fails.

Chloe, on the other hand, looks completely grossed out and doesn’t bother to hide it.

“Losing weight is never pretty,” Jodi states before taking a dainty sip. She holds out the cup to Pete, who hurriedly raises his hands to decline.

Just then, two guys walk over to them.

“Hey Ross, we’re getting a little game together. You want in, or do you want to keep whale watching?” Dustin says, looking at Jodi and laughing.

Hurt, Jodi turns away and throws a nervous glance at Pete. She braces herself, clearly ready for Pete to abandon her or join in on the bullying to avoid also being made the subject of ridicule.

To her surprise, he does nothing of the sort. Instead, he sighs before ordering, “Dustin, back off.”

Dustin pretends to back away. “Ooh. Chill out, cool guy. I didn’t know you were a chubby chaser.” He then throws the basketball at Pete’s feet, and as it bounces it hits Jodi’s arm, jostling the cup and thermos and causing her green smoothie to spill all over herself and Chloe. Pete catches the ball but it’s too late; although Chloe, having jumped back, only gets minor splashes from it, the chunky green liquid is all over Jodi’s face and clothes.

“Oh!” Dustin crows, and the obnoxious laughter of his friends and bystanders ring out around them.

Looking absolutely humiliated, Jodi rushes off, even as Pete calls out after her. “Jodi, wait!”

“Oh man,” Dustin says meanly. “You’d think someone that big would have a thicker skin.”

With a glare, Pete throws the basketball, smacking Dustin right in the forehead.

“You’d think someone that stupid would have a thicker head,” Chloe retorts before rushing off after Jodi.

With another glare at Dustin and exhaling with frustration, Pete follows.

***

Having studied the exact same material before means there’s very little left for Clara to teach Lana. Still, Nell and the event planner give them space to study, and Lana takes full advantage of it. Wanting to stretch out the study session as much as possible, Lana insists they go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, so that by the time they’re done, nearly 2 hours have passed.

When at last there’s nothing else to possibly review, Clara starts putting the books away. She overhears Nell ask the event planner, “Now, I want this to be special. What do you think about a 3-tier birthday cake?”

The event planner opens the binder in her hands to display several options.

“Thanks for the lifeline,” Lana says, regaining Clara’s attention.

“It’s a math midterm. It’s not like I pulled you out of a burning building,” she points out.

“I still appreciate it,” Lana tells her as she gets up from the table and starts putting on her coat.

“Lana?” They look up and see Nell standing in the doorway, holding several different colored balloons. “I just wanted to get your opinion on the balloons. Now, I think white always looks good,” she says, as she holds up the white one in question.

Lana smiles and nods. “Works for me.”

Nell echoes the smile. “Okay.”

Once Nell heads back into the living room to join the event planner and her assistant, Lana hurriedly makes her way to the front door.

“This whole birthday extravaganza has been pretty distracting,” she complains as soon as they’re out of earshot.

As Clara follows, she bites back some choice words. Instead, she says as evenly as she can, “I don’t know. Having a birthday party at Lex’s mansion seems pretty cool to me.”

Lana sighs. “It stopped being my party a long time ago. If it were up to me, it would be pizza and loud music with my friends.”

Once they step out onto the porch, Clara asks, “Did you tell Nell that?”

Lana gives her a worn smile. “We’ve been through a lot in the past couple of weeks. I figure I should give her this one.”

Before Clara can say something she’ll regret, a silver truck thankfully pulls up and Whitney jumps out.

“Lana, guess what?”

“The scout called!” she says excitedly with a wide smile.

Whitney grins back just as widely. “I just heard. I got the tryout with Kansas State!”

“That’s incredible!” The two of them celebrate with an exuberant hug.

“Congratulations Whitney,” Clara tells him when they pull away.

“Thanks Clara.” He turns back to Lana and admits, “I haven’t said yes yet.”

When Lana looks at him quizzically, he explains, “They want me there on Friday, but that’s your big night.”

“It’s Nell’s big night,” Lana insists. “I was just telling Clara it wasn’t important.”

When Whitney looks over at her, Clara nods in agreement. “Yeah, scout’s honor.”

“I want you to go,” Lana says sincerely.

He stares at her for a beat, and after realizing she means it, he pulls her to him and kisses her sweetly.

Feeling uncomfortable, Clara pipes up. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Neither of them even acknowledges her departure.

***

After having failed to find Jodi, Chloe and Pete had resigned themselves to doing poorly on the midterm. Thankfully, Clara comes over to Chloe’s house after she finishes with Lana, and her apology – and invaluable help with math – results in the blonde forgiving Clara.

The next day, with the successful completion of their midterm – Pete and Chloe think they might have even scored a B – they’re happily making their way out of the school when they overhear plans for a party. The news of Whitney’s tryout has made the rounds, and so to celebrate, there’s going to be an impromptu party that night at Crater Lake. Pete’s eyes light up with determination, intent on going in hopes of landing himself a date to Lana’s birthday party. In fact, he decides to start early and actually abandons them to run after several of the girls in their math class.

Although Clara can’t deny that she’s tempted to go, she also knows that if she does, even if it’s with her friends, she’ll be miserable. Chloe will undoubtedly abandon her for a story or other, Lana and Whitney will certainly be too preoccupied with each other to pay her any sort of attention, and Pete of course will be too busy trying to find himself a date in a desperate attempt to get over Chloe to keep her company. Since no guy is interested in her and the only other girls at the party will be those who already dislike her, it means she’ll be left standing awkwardly by herself, feeling like even more of a loser and an outcast. It will be like the homecoming dance all over again except with alcohol – and since she doesn’t like the taste of beer, even that’s not an attraction.

Considering all that, it’s no wonder that Clara refuses to go when Chloe asks. Except it’s Chloe, and so she refuses to take “no” for an answer and insists she go with her for some reason that Clara can’t determine.

“No,” she says again.

“Come on, you can’t miss out on such a quintessential high school experience!” Chloe cajoles.

Clara refuses to fall for such obvious bait. She’d gone to the homecoming dance, after all, another such an experience, and she’d been miserable. Nothing’s changed between then and now that would somehow make attending this party worthwhile.

“No.”

“Pleeeeease, Clara?” Chloe begs. “I want to go but I don’t want to go by myself.”

“You won’t be going alone, Pete’ll be with you.”

“He doesn’t count!”

Clara’s suddenly glad Pete isn’t around to hear that. No doubt he’d take it wrong, and this time, it would take far more than her mother’s baked treats to smooth over. Realizing Chloe won’t be giving up any time soon, she releases a longsuffering sigh.

“You owe me for this. And you can’t ditch me.”

“Promise!” Chloe swears.

And so, despite her reservations, Clara reluctantly decides to tag along to the party at Crater Lake.

***

In an effort to raise more revenue, Martha and Jonathan have been tossing around ideas. Considering how popular her baked treats are, he suggests she try her hand at homemade espresso brews. It’s too cold out to have a coffee/baked goods stand, but they can definitely still sell Martha’s treats at home, and if they also sell “fancy” coffee at cheaper prices than the Beanery, he’s sure they’ll have plenty of customers. It might not be enough to prevent them from taking out another bank loan, but at least it’ll be better than just hoping and praying their way out of a financial hole.

And so, having researched recipes and techniques, Martha is attempting to make a homemade latte when Lana knocks on the screen door.

“Hello!” she says, and Martha looks up from the stove.

“Lana! Hi, come in,” she greets with a smile.

“Hey! Lana can I, uh, interest you in a latte?” Jonathan asks, brandishing a mug.

“I’ll pass. Bad waitressing flashbacks,” she explains with a wry smile, before digging through her purse. “I brought over the produce order for the party.”

Martha tilts her head in confusion. “Well, you could have called it in.”

“And miss a chance to get out of the house?”

At the Kents’ look of surprise, Lana confesses, “Nell’s planning this party like a royal wedding.”

Martha’s eyes widen as she looks over the produce order. “Oh yeah, I can tell.”

Nell is certainly going all out for her niece’s birthday, and Martha can’t help but feel a pang of guilt that she can’t do the same thing for her daughter. Martha has always felt terrible about the way Clara is forced to dress, all the toys that she’d never gotten to play with and all the opportunities that other girls her age got that she’s always lacked. She’d consoled herself with the knowledge of how loving and great their home is for a girl growing up, but now that that may be torn away from Clara, she feels like she and Jonathan have failed their daughter, their miracle child.

She spitefully thinks that Nell is doing all of this to impress the residents of Smallville more so than making sure her niece has a great birthday.

Before Martha can chastise herself for such ungenerous and unworthy thought, Clara backs in through the kitchen door carrying three crates of apples in her arms. Jonathan, realizing that Lana would find it more than a little suspicious, darts forward.

“Clara, let me help you with those before you throw your back out,” he says, and to Clara’s confusion, grabs two of the crates out of her arms.

When she opens her mouth to ask what’s going on, she spots Lana standing by Martha, and her eyes widen in understanding.

“Lana!” Clara uses the distraction of the apple crate to look away and get herself together. That’d been a rather close call – she’d been about to mention how she’d jammed the post in the west field through granite, something that Lana would no doubt find suspect.

As soon as she puts down the apples, she turns with a bright smile. “I thought you’d be posing for ice sculptures by now,” she jokes.

“I’m hiding out.”

Clara still thinks Lana is being terribly selfish and unappreciative of it all, but she’s given up on trying to convince Lana about it.

“You have my sympathies,” she says, even if it’s not strictly true. “And Whitney’s not even here for backup.”

“I know. I was contemplating stowing away in the back of his truck on Friday.”

Clara’s eyebrows rise. “A no-show at your own party. That would keep the town talking.”

Lana shakes her head. “I wouldn’t do that to Nell. It’s just… all this attention is a little unnerving.”

Clara doesn’t know what it’s like to have so many people interested and caring about you and your opinions, but she thinks she wouldn’t be so ungrateful. She stamps down on that unkind thought and instead says, “Well, at least all your friends will be there on Friday. We’ll make sure you get to have a great time.”

Lana smiles gratefully. “Thanks.” She looks at the clock on the wall and winces. “I better go. If I’m away for too long Nell will probably send out a search party.”

Clara waves bye as Lana reluctantly leaves, and barely waits for Lana to round the corner before she’s escaping to the loft. Much as she adores her mother’s culinary endeavors, the less-than-appetizing smell coming from the pot on the stove makes it clear her mother should stick to her famous hot chocolates instead.

***

That night, when they arrive at Crater Lake – “fashionably late” per Chloe’s insistence – the party is in full swing, with loud blaring music, plenty of booze, and a bonfire. There are trucks parked all around them, and many a couple are huddled together underneath thick blankets and sleeping bags on truck beds, including Whitney and Lana.

Pete, unwilling to miss out on any opportunity to try out his special brand of charm, has already been there for a good hour. As they’re walking around, they see him striking out with one of the cheerleaders, though he doesn’t seem too heartbroken. He acknowledges Clara’s wave, but rather than coming over, he dives right back in and sidles up to another girl nearby. Chloe rolls her eyes before determinedly walking on.

They make a full circuit before trekking back to the bonfire. Chloe grumbles, clearly less than pleased.

“This is what I love about high school parties,” she comments sourly. “People will gather anywhere as long as there’s illegally purchased alcohol and even the slightest chance of hooking up.”

“If I recall correctly,” Clara points out dryly, “You’re the one who insisted on coming to this party.”

Chloe huffs and shivers, her shoulders hunching in an effort to hide every part of her body from exposure. “Yeah, but I didn’t know it was going to be so cold. It’s like 20,000 degrees below zero out here.”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that cold to me.” In fact, Clara can’t recall when she last felt the cold.

Chloe scoffs. “Are you from an ice planet or something? It’s freezing! I’m going to go thaw out by the fire. Have fun, Clara!”

Thunderstruck by the idea that her home planet might in fact be an ice planet, or perhaps one that has colder temperatures than Earth, it takes a few moments before she realizes she has been abandoned as predicted.

Rather than standing there alone looking like an idiot, Clara decides to pretend to be cold after all and join Chloe when Sean Kelvin approaches her. He’s one of the more repellent football players, a complete asshole who has made a sport of tormenting her just because she’s taller than him. She can’t fathom why he’s voluntarily foisting himself on her presence; she only wishes she could tell him where to shove his unwanted thoughts on her existence.

“Hey Kent, you’re friends with Chloe, right?” he asks, thankfully keeping his distance. “Is she flying solo tonight?”

Clara resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she pointedly looks down her nose at him, knowing full well how much he hates being reminded that he’s shorter than her. “Believe me, Sean, you’re not her type.”

He sneers, his eyes conveying his disgust for her very being. “Well, you’d be surprised.”

With that, he heads straight over to where Chloe’s sitting on a log with her hands outstretched towards the fire in an effort to warm them.

“If you’d like, I could rub them for you. Nothing heats up a body like friction,” Sean remarks as he sidles up next to her.

Chloe shoots him a look of incredulity. “Wow. I can’t believe you just delivered that line with a straight face.”

Sean doesn’t seem to be deterred by the less than warm welcome. Instead, he says innocently, “Well, all I did was offer to keep your hands warm, Chloe.”

“And he knows my name.”

“I’ve read your editorials in The Torch. Pretty cool.”

Chloe doesn’t appear to let that work on her. “Well, thank you, Sean. I sit next to Jenna in bio class. Remember, you dumped her last week?”

“It was mutual.”

“So you’re here trolling for fresh meat.”

“Don’t worry, Chloe. I’m not going to make a move on you, no matter how pretty I think you are.”

Despite herself, Chloe is clearly pleased by the compliment. Although she’s trying to smother her smile, she’s not successful; in fact, to Clara’s surprise, her cheeks even flush – and not because she’s near the fire.

“Yo Sean!” Whitney calls out. “Hail Mary’s down by the lake!”

As several of the guys head towards the lake to toss around a football, Sean asks Chloe, “Yeah, uh hey, can I get your number?”

Chloe’s laugh carries a note of surprise. “Wh-why? You’re never going to call.”

“I’ll call you later tonight, I promise.”

Even as she digs into her jacket pocket for a pen, she tells him, “Well, I won’t hold my breath.”

Grabbing Sean’s hand, she writes on his palm. Clara is appalled when she sees it’s actually Chloe’s real cell phone number written on there.

Chloe smiles dreamily to herself once Sean runs off to join the other football players. Clara can’t help the frown that appears on her face, the hurt and betrayal she feels too sudden for her to mask. Chloe is aware – and had in fact been a witness – to Sean’s behavior towards her, and yet rather than sending him packing after sticking up for her, she’s instead given him her number.

She slowly walks over and sits down on the log next to Chloe.

“Did you just write your number down on Sean Kelvin’s hand?”

Chloe’s smile turns a little guilty when she sees the expression on her face. She then determinedly shakes her head.

“Clara, relax. I just gave him my number to get rid of him. Come on, let’s get Pete. The taxi’s leaving.”

The excuse doesn’t fly, as she could’ve given him a fake number instead of her real one, but Clara doesn’t say another word. She suddenly can’t help but feel like her friendship with Chloe is at risk; that with one more word, Chloe will abandon her, leaving her alone and friendless once again.

“Clara, come on!” Chloe calls out.

Pete is already at her side, alone and clearly eager to leave, though Clara’s not sure if his eagerness is due to having struck out or because he’d witnessed Chloe’s flirtations with Sean. She supposes it doesn’t matter.

Sighing, Clara dutifully follows them into the cab.

***

After failing at making homemade espresso brews, Martha and Jonathan resign themselves to taking out another bank loan. Knowing the end result of that could mean the loss of the farm with one defaulted payment, Martha is eagerly taking out her frustrations on wood by chopping it up with a chainsaw. It’s far healthier than keeping it all bottled up, and besides, she dares anyone to claim Jonathan isn’t venting his own frustrations and aggression out in the backfield. Her lips quirk as she imagines pitching woodcutting as a stress reliever to the rich businessmen of Metropolis; while she doesn’t doubt many would be horrified at getting their hands so dirty, she thinks there’d be just as many who would agree with her on its therapeutic benefits.

After cutting another piece of a log with the portable chainsaw, Martha turns to gather the pieces to put into a pile only to see that Lex is standing right beside her.

“Whoa!” Lex jerks back, raising his hands in the air. “I come in peace.”

“Lex!” Martha is horrified. A few inches closer and she would’ve cut him in half. Heart in her throat and pulse pounding in her ears, Martha’s fingers fumble as she tries to turn off the chainsaw. When she finally succeeds, she hurriedly puts it down far away from Lex. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m just glad you weren’t welding,” he remarks. Despite the close call, he looks amazingly calm.

Relieved, Martha laughs, though it sounds overly high and loud. “What brings you out here in the middle of the day?”

Lex bends over to grab the wooden logs Martha has already sawed off and tosses them onto the gathered pile. “Those artichokes of yours. I need about 30 of them if you’ve got them.”

Her eyes widen. “30? That’s a lot of artichokes.” Despite knowing she doesn’t have the supply, she can’t help but wish he’d order 3000 of them.

“Yeah, I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night for the local farming community, just an informal talk about some financial options. A lot of farms in town are having money trouble.”

Martha wonders why they weren’t invited, and then thinks this is why Lex has come over to the farm. No doubt he hopes to convince Jonathan to attend by appealing to her.

“Most people aren’t looking for loans,” she advises him.

“I’m offering my role as an investor.” He picks up the last log and throws it onto the pile. “Help people modernize and expand. This town once grew 20% of the corn in the state. Smallville was a heavy hitter, it just lost the drive to stay competitive.”

“Or its connections,” Martha argues, sticking up for her family and neighbors who are as hard working as ever.

“If this town ever had connections, they wouldn’t have named it Smallville,” he quips before turning around to face Martha. “Your husband hasn’t exactly kept his feelings about me a secret, but I’d appreciate hearing your thoughts on my proposal even if you’re not interested.”

She nearly winces at that. She tries to both explain and defend her husband. “Jonathan doesn’t hate you. It’s just… your family’s track record hasn’t been the best in this town.”

“Tell him I intend to change that.” Lex is firm and confident, and sheer determination exudes from him.

Martha nods, and as Lex leaves, stares after him in pleasant surprise.

***

“So, did Sean call?” Clara asks with concerted effort at nonchalance as they make their way towards the front steps of the school.

“Negative. Not that I was waiting by the phone or anything,” Chloe insists, though considering the way she’s refusing to meet her eyes and her tone of voice, it’s clear she really had been hoping for a call.

Clara again feels that pang of betrayal. But this time, now that her fears of being alone and friendless have subsided – for, after all, even in the unlikely event that Chloe decides to no longer be her friend, she'll still have Lex, Lana, and perhaps even Pete – she no longer feels like she has to keep that to herself. Clara is well aware you can’t help being attracted to somebody; considering her former crush on Whitney despite him being in a relationship with Lana, and her feelings for Lex despite the impossibility of that ever being returned, it would be hypocritical to say the least if she judges Chloe for them. The important difference, however, is that she has never once acted on her feelings for Whitney despite Lex’s urging; Chloe, however, is clearly willing to throw someone she calls her best friend over for a guy. And Clara’s not okay with that.

“Maybe he got caught up,” Pete tries to excuse. “One time, my sister didn’t hear from a guy for a week. When she called to tell him off, it turned out his grandmother had died.”

Chloe sighs. “Ah, as much as I appreciate the spotlight here, I’m fine.”

“You’re better off. Sean’s a total ass.”

Pete frowns. “He’s not that bad, Clara. He’s always been cool to me.”

Clara rolls her eyes. Of course he’s decent to Pete; he’s not only shorter than him, he’s also on the football team.

He scowls. “Hey, just because you aren’t crushing on anyone, don’t knock us for trying to make a love connection.”

She’s about to retort when a female voice greets Pete.

When they turn around, a redhead gets up from the picnic table and walk towards them until they can clearly see her without the bench in the way. It takes a moment for them to place her.

“Jodi?” Pete says in shock. “You look…”

When he trails off, Jodi says, “Thinner?” with a smile.

It’s very obvious that she’s lost quite a bit of weight – in fact, it looks like in the span of not even 24 hours, she’s clearly gone down a couple of dress sizes.

Chloe walks over, looking suspicious and disbelieving. “I was still looking for a euphemism, but… yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Clara asks. She’s never been close to Jodi – she’d been too popular to hang out with the likes of Clara at first and then too withdrawn and clearly unwilling to accept any overtures from her – but that doesn’t mean she’s not concerned.

“Never better. My diet’s just starting to pay off, is all. I actually had to buy some new clothes,” she says, showing them off.

Clara can’t help but be a little jealous.

“You look great,” Pete remarks with a smile.

“Not that you didn’t look great before,” Clara chimes in, and pokes Pete for good measure.

Before Pete can try to cover up his faux pas, Jodi shoots her a disbelieving look, clearly disagreeing with her. Shaking her head, she turns back to Pete.

“Thank you for sticking up for me yesterday. Most people wouldn’t have done that.”

He shrugs. “Most people can’t stand Dustin.”

“Yeah.” Jodi laughs a little, betraying her nervousness. “Listen, I was wondering. Do you have a date for Lana’s party?”

Pete just stares at her, clearly speechless. As Jodi looks at him worriedly, Clara pokes him in the back again, prodding him to respond. Seeing that he’s still dumbstruck, she answers for him.

“No, he’s still free.”

Jodi shoots a thankful smile at Clara before turning back to Pete. “Would you like to go with me?”

Pete takes a deep breath and just smiles stupidly, clearly unable to form words. Clara and Chloe exchange fond and knowing grins, and Clara, realizing he’s still not said an answer, pokes him again. When that doesn’t snap him out of it, she once more answers for him. “He’d love to.”

Jodi’s smile is one of relief and joy. “Great. Okay, well, I’ll see you later.”

The two of them continue to smile goofily at each other until Jodi finally walks away. Pete stares after her for a long moment before finally saying softly, “Bye.”

“I don’t get it,” Chloe says musingly once Jodi is out of earshot.

Pete frowns, hurt. “Women dig me. Get used to it.”

Chloe frowns right back. “No,” she says, looking at Jodi’s retreating back. “I meant Jodi. It’s like she lost that weight overnight.”

Clara looks over at Jodi in concern, but seeing her clearly joyful demeanor, she smiles and shrugs. “She’s probably been steadily losing the weight but it wasn’t obvious until she got herself new clothes that fit well.”

Chloe doesn’t lose the suspicious look in her eyes, but she readily follows Clara and Pete inside the school.

***

Having been thoroughly derailed in her attempts to speak with Chloe about Sean, Clara opts to get her chores done and out of the way before heading for the Beanery, in hopes of catching up with the blonde once she’s finished with her article for The Torch.

If she hopes to see Lex there, it’s no one else’s business but her own.

Through the large front window, she sees Lana and Whitney sitting at a table together. As she enters, she overhears them planning to go to Metropolis to take in an exhibit at the museum – no doubt Whitney’s gift for Lana’s birthday.

Clara can’t disguise her look of longing. The only time she’d gotten to see the big city had been when she’d gone shopping for her dress for homecoming, and they’d been so pressed for time that she’d only gotten to see the city in passing.

Lana, mistakenly believing her expression is for the museum brochure she’s holding, offers it to her.

“And don’t worry, the exhibit is going to be open for several more weeks,” she says reassuringly as she and Whitney make their way out of the Beanery.

“Thanks.” Clara’s smile is tight. Considering her parents’ current financial troubles, there’s no way she’d be able to afford to go to Metropolis let alone to a museum.

Still, she can’t help but leaf through the booklet. Given her alien origins, she’s always found human history fascinating, and the tantalizing bits of information she’s getting from the brochure has her eager to go to the library and see if they have any books on them that she can borrow.

“That’s a great exhibit. I caught it in St. Petersburg.”

“Lex!” Clara greets him with a smile, before looking wistfully down at the brochure and setting it aside.

He glances at it pointedly. “What’s up? You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that. It’s just not the best time right now, is all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s definitely worth seeing. It’ll be in Metropolis for a few more weeks – maybe you’ll still get to go.”

“Maybe,” she says rather doubtfully before shaking her head. “So how have you been?”

“Busy. You? Save any more lives lately?”

Clara laughs, her smile shy. “Nope. Guess my days as a budding hero are over.”

Lex puts his elbows on the table and leans closer. “What about dating? Do you have your eye on anyone or are you still crushing on the quarterback?”

Clara blushes even as she rolls her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on Whitney, Lex.”

“You know, you could ask him out,” he says, pointedly ignoring her denial.

“First of all, I’m not interested. Second of all, he’s got a girlfriend, Lex.”

“A high school girlfriend isn’t a wife. She’s an obstacle. You know, I bet if you ask Whitney to go with you to the Radiohead concert in Metropolis tomorrow, he’ll say yes.”

She scoffs. “And if he says yes?”

“I’ll give you the tickets.” Like a magician, Lex pulls the very item in question out of his inside jacket pocket.

She looks at the tickets before looking back at him. She narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’re like the younger sibling I never had. I figure someone should benefit from my experience.”

Clara barely manages to hide her wince at that. “I’m not interested in Whitney, Lex,” she says again.

“Well then, ask someone else.” Lex looks around the Beanery and nods his head towards a guy sitting by himself in the corner, reading Doctor Zhivago. “How about him?”

She groans.

“I’ll raise the bet – you ask someone in the next 60 seconds, you get the tickets and I’ll throw in a round-trip limo ride. Starting,” he adds, making a show of looking down at his watch, “Now.”

She meets his gaze and when he stares at her pointedly, she grabs the tickets. But rather than getting up, she remains seated. She feels queasy and like she might throw up, but maybe it’s time for her to take a risk and try and get her own slice of happiness.

“Hey Lex, you busy tomorrow night?”

When he narrows his eyes, she adds, “See, there’s this thing tomorrow night. It’s a concert, Radiohead, to be exact, and I got a couple of tickets. I was wondering if you’d like to go, you know, with me.”

She can’t read the expression on Lex’s face.

“Clara,” he starts cautiously, and she hurriedly interjects, “Just as friends.”

She has no idea if he believes her, and she prays he accepts it, that she hasn’t just screwed everything up.

Thankfully, Lex gives her a small smile. “Normally I’d love to, Clara, but I have a previous engagement. Why don’t you take another friend with you instead?”

Clara swallows roughly and nods as Lex heads towards the counter to order his coffee. She does her best to maintain her smile when he returns.

***

Despite having known that Lex wouldn’t answer favorably if she ever worked up the courage to ask him out, having put herself out there and actually receiving the “no” – no matter how nicely worded – is beyond painful. Clara isn’t sure how she manages to still have a friendly conversation with Lex before she gives the excuse of needing to do her chores to make her escape.  

She contemplates giving the tickets away. If it’d been a different band, it would’ve made a great early anniversary gift for her parents, even if she would’ve felt awkward about the re-gifting. In the end, Clara opts to use the tickets herself since she’s never attended a concert let alone ridden in a limo before, and she’d love to do both of those things. And just because she can’t go with Lex doesn’t mean she can’t have a great time with someone else.

Even if it’s with just a friend.

Clara is experimenting with her telescopic vision as she contemplates who to invite when a familiar voice startles her badly enough that she nearly falls out of the loft.

“Earth to Clara? You alright?”

“Chloe, don’t you ever knock?” she snaps once she’s regained her balance. Despite the fact that she wouldn’t have been hurt at all if she’d fallen out the window of the loft, the vertigo she experiences at the sight of the drop still sends her pulse spiking.

She really needs to work on getting over her fear of heights.

Chloe shoots her a wry look. “It’s a barn, Clara.”

She sighs and moves away from the window. “Is there a reason you’re here so early or do you just enjoy busting my chops?”

Chloe smiles sunnily. “A little of both,” she readily admits. “Did you hear about the accident last night? A deer was hit on Route 5.”

Clara shoots her an odd look as she shrugs. “That’s not exactly Wall of Weird material.”

“Check out the paper,” the blonde says, handing it over. “Animal control said that the deer died of causes unknown.”

“So?” Clara asks, passing the paper back.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Not much unknown about a bumper at 60 miles an hour.”

She bites back a sigh. “I- I’d love to run down theories with you, but I’ve got chores to do.”

When Chloe’s face falls, Clara determinedly looks away and clenches her jaw, refusing to feel guilty. After all, she’s not the one who was flirting and wanting to date a guy who’s done nothing but torment someone who’s supposed to be her best friend. Besides, she has a genuine reason why she can’t – she needs to get her chores done this morning so that she’ll have plenty of time later to get ready for the concert.

As Clara makes her way down the loft stairs, Chloe determinedly follows.

“Well, you or your family knows people at animal control, right?”

“One of the perks of growing up on a farm.”

“Well, I was thinking, maybe we could stop by there before school. You know, you could use your pull, we could take a couple of pictures,” she says, wheedling.

“I can’t, Chloe. I’ve got chores to do.”

Chloe smacks the newspaper against her chest, forcing her to stop. “What’s with you?”

When Clara pointedly stares at her, Chloe bites her lip before looking down. “Never mind. Forget it.”

As the blonde trudges down the rest of the stairs, Clara rolls her eyes at herself as she predictably gives in.

“Chloe, wait.”

***

As they’re walking through the halls of the animal control offices, Chloe remarks, “Very impressive use of pull: Can I use your bathroom?”

“I can’t believe we’re creeping around looking for road kill,” Clara grumbles.

Spotting the deer through the open slats of the window, Chloe stops.

“The deer’s in there.” She tries the doorknob but unsurprisingly it’s locked. “Damn, the door’s locked. Um, I’m gonna go find a maintenance worker.”

As Chloe heads back the way they came, unwilling to waste any more time on this futile endeavor, Clara unlocks the door by shoving her finger through the center of the lock and breaking it.  

“Chloe, it’s open,” she calls out as the doorknob now easily turns.

Chloe returns and looks at the opened door quizzically. “How’d you do that?”

“Kent charm,” Clara says with a shrug.

Chloe eyes the lock with suspicion as she enters, before the sheet covering the deer carcass arrests her gaze. She pulls out her camera as Clara pulls the window shades closed.

She fidgets with the camera, making sure all the settings are correctly selected to ensure she’ll get the best photo before elbowing Clara. “Lift it up.”

Clara obligingly lifts the sheet before grimacing. “Looks like jerky.”

Chloe quickly takes a few photos, and when she’s done, Clara covers up the deer with the sheet again.

Chloe looks around, and spotting a sheaf of papers, picks it up and starts reading.

“The lab report says the deer lost something like 80% of its body fat. It’s like it’s been liposuctioned to death.”

“What do you think it is, Chloe, some fat-sucking vampire in town?” Clara remarks facetiously.

Chloe arches her eyebrow. “This is Smallville, Clara, land of the weird, home of the strange.”

She snaps a picture of the report.

***

It’s nearly the end of the school day when Pete finally catches sight of Jodi at her locker. She’s looking even skinnier than before, which only makes him more concerned. He hurries over.

“Jodi, I didn’t see you in class. Are you okay?”

She quickly closes and locks her locker. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She pulls her blue coat more tightly around her body before crossing her arms over her stomach. As she hurriedly walks on, Pete readily follows. “Just stomach flu. I can’t keep anything down.”

“Maybe you should go see the nurse,” he suggests.

Jodi shakes her head. “I’ve got it under control.”

Just then, her stomach growls loud enough that Pete can hear it. He speeds up a little to get in front of her, then turns around to face her to get her to stop walking away from him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says a little snappishly, before gentling her voice. “I just… need to rest up for the party, is all.”

Pete softly smiles at her. “Look. If you don’t feel up to it, I’ll understand.”

Jodi returns his smile and runs her hand down his arm before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She gives his cheek a quick kiss before walking away. Pete stares after her with a goofy smile on his face, and it isn’t until he’s jostled by the other students that he snaps out of it.

***

When classes are over for the day, Clara closes her locker and looks around to see if she can spot Lana. She’s decided to invite her to the concert as her birthday present. She’s not sure if Lana is a fan of Radiohead, but she knows she’ll undoubtedly appreciate the opportunity to get away from Nell for a few hours.

Not seeing her around, she waves over Pete and Chloe. “Hey, have you guys seen Lana?”

“She’s probably with Whitney. Why, what’s up?”

Clara pulls out the tickets Lex had given her the day before. “I’m going to ask if she wants to come with me to see Radiohead.”

Chloe goes quiet as Pete stares at the concert tickets with envy. “How did you score these?”

“I’m guessing a certain folliclely-challenged individual was behind it,” the blonde remarks blandly.

“Lex hooked me up,” she readily admits.

Pete doesn’t look pleased at the mention of Lex, but he thankfully doesn’t say anything disparaging.

Just then, Sean hurries over in their direction looking rather pale, and makes a beeline for them.

“Maybe this is your chance,” Pete suggests to Chloe. Clara frowns but keeps silent.

Chloe looks hesitant as Sean comes up to her.

“Chloe, don’t I owe you a phone call?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.

“I guess so,” she replies with a small smile.

“Well, what are you doing now?” he asks eagerly.

“Well, I’ve got to put the paper to bed,” Chloe says somewhat reluctantly. Sean’s attention shifts immediately. Ignoring Chloe, he starts to look around.

“Maybe afterwards, we could, you know, do something?” she suggests, but Sean’s attention has already wandered towards Jenna Barnum, his ex.

“Jenna! Jenna, wait up!” he calls out as he hurries towards her.

Chloe’s face falls and Pete stares at her sympathetically. Clara looks away. The burn of anger and hurt at Chloe’s betrayal is tinged with satisfaction at her pain, making Clara feel terrible all around.

“Okay, I was playing barely-hard-to-get. What’s the problem?”

Pete puts his arms around Chloe’s shoulders and steers her towards the Torch office. Clara loiters behind, knowing that in her state, she’s unequal to cheering up Chloe. Seeing Sean chat Jenna up before leading her away with a sly smile on his face, she shakes her head. Chloe is much better off without him, and though it might sound callous, it’s far better she finds out what an ass he is now rather than later.

***

Martha enters the kitchen, dressed smartly in her best button-up wool coat and nicest pants, carrying her favorite handbag over one shoulder and the farm books in tow. She sees Jonathan over at the dining table, with his toolbox open and fixing parts of his motorcycle.

At least he’s put a sheet down under it so that their new table won’t be ruined.

“It’s bad enough you ride that motorcycle, but why do you have to repair it in the house?”

“Because if I didn’t, you’d never have any reason to be angry with me,” he says with a wide grin.

“I’ll trade you,” Martha tells him as she puts down the books and her purse. “Do all the engine work you want, but come with me to Lex’s.”

He sighs. “We’ve already talked about that.”

“I talked, you grunted.”

“I thought I was rather articulate,” he quips.

At the pointed look from Martha, Jonathan says, “Sweetheart, the Luthors have sold out anyone who’s ever trusted them. They don’t know what it means to keep their word.”

“They is Lex’s father, not him,” she argues.

When Jonathan gets up from the table, she determinedly follows. “Be honest, you’ve never seen him be anything but generous. Arrogant and a little strange, yes, but he’s been a good friend to Clara. We have to at least hear him out.”

He grabs a kitchen towel and begins to wipe the carburetor with it. “Why?” he says flatly.

“We need options, Jonathan. Our home is on the line, our farm,” she reminds him, the desperation in her voice making him feel like the worst husband in the world. His failure has never been so apparent.

Jonathan lets out a tired sigh. Still, despite knowing she’s right, he has trouble agreeing to go. He wonders if it’s because of stubbornness or pride. Knowing him, both, probably.

“You don’t have to like him to listen. Besides, um, I already told him we would come.”

Before Jonathan can react to that, Clara enters the house.

“Hello citizens,” she says with as big a smile as she can muster, and she puts her arms around her parents’ shoulders.

“I’m not familiar with this child. Where’s the moody one, lives upstairs, runs real fast?” Martha says drolly.

“Oh, she’s going to a concert tonight with Lana.”

“A concert, huh?” Jonathan asks.

“Uh huh. Lex hooked me up with two tickets and his limo, and I’m going to take Lana with me as her birthday gift.”

“Oh, he did?” he says flatly.

“It’s okay if I go, right?”

“Well, I guess Lex Luthor has worked out all of our evenings for us,” Jonathan remarks, clearly none too pleased.

Even as Martha rolls her eyes, Clara asks, “What?”

“We’re heading over to Lex’s tonight. He’s asked the farmers of Smallville over for a meeting,” she explains.

Clara’s smile becomes larger and more genuine. Although she doubts Lex’s answer would’ve changed had he not had any plans, she can’t help but feel so much better knowing that Lex hadn’t just been giving her an excuse after all.

***

Although Clara still acutely feels Chloe’s betrayal, she can’t help but recall how much she herself has been neglecting the blonde to spend more time with Lex and Lana. Much as she likes being around Lex – and Lana – Chloe is her best friend, and she really hasn’t been living up to that title lately. And she’s sure that inviting Lana to go to the Radiohead concert with her hasn’t helped matters. It’s not fair for her to complain about Chloe not acting like her best friend when she hasn’t held up her end either.

And so, she calls Chloe.

“I’m really sorry, Chloe,” Clara says in the end.

Letting out a relieved breath, Chloe echoes the apology. “I’m sorry too. And I swear I’m done with Sean.”

Happy to have things back to normal, Clara lets Chloe babble on about her theories over the mystery of the liposuctioned deer when the blonde suddenly changes the topic to her outfit that she’ll be wearing to the concert.

“I refuse to let you go wearing… what you normally wear,” she says.

Clara looks down at herself. She’s wearing a worn, checkered blue flannel shirt that swallows up her body and baggy jeans that her mother’s done her best to make fit.

“You have no sense of style, so it falls on me to pick out an outfit for you.”

Clara wants to protest and say it isn’t like she’s wearing these outfits because she likes them, but she swallows down the words. It’s not that she’s ashamed of her family’s financial situation, exactly, more that she doesn’t want their pity. Besides, her friends don’t know what it’s like. None of them have experienced any financial hardships – with the money the Rosses have earned from the sale of their factory to Lionel Luthor and what Pete’s mom makes being a judge, they are probably the wealthiest family in Smallville. Chloe’s dad also has plenty of money, enough that Chloe never worries about needing a part-time job, and his salary as the plant manager at LuthorCorp Fertilizer Plant Number Three is nothing to scoff at either. And as for Lana, she has the money that her parents left her, and of course Nell earns quite a bit with her flower shop, enough so that she doesn’t even need to sell the Talon Theater despite the old movie house generating no income. Clara already feels pathetic and freakish enough as it is; she doesn’t also need the addition of being the poor friend on top of it all.

Clearing her throat, Clara doesn’t protest when Chloe proclaims she’ll be coming over to help. She figures they can make a good time of it, trying on different outfits and applying make-up, like in those movies and television shows.

Of course, nothing like that happens when Chloe comes by. She patently ignores Clara as she gathers her best outfit options, busily typing on her laptop.

Clara sighs. “I thought you came over for fashion advice.”

Chloe looks up and sees a checkered button-up shirt in various shades of brown that Clara is contemplating. The look on her face says it all.

“Burn that,” she orders as she wrinkles her nose. “What else have you got?”

Clara bites her lip and sighs. Honestly, there really aren’t a lot of options. Her clothes are either too tattered to be worn outside the farm or hand-me-downs from Jonathan. The checkered shirt at least would appear fitted on her.

“I’ll check the laundry basket,” she says, even as she knows it’s pointless.

As Chloe rolls her eyes, muttering about Clara’s hopelessness before returning to her laptop, her cell phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey Chloe.”

Despite the earlier brush-off, Chloe can’t help but smile. “Sean, hi.”

“Don’t I owe you a phone call?”

***

As soon as she hangs up, Chloe hurries over to where Clara is sorting through the clean laundry.

She excitedly says, “Guess who just called me? Sean.”

Clara doesn’t share in her excitement. “Did he apologize for blowing you off?”

“He said he wasn’t feeling well,” she explains.

The excuse is flimsy at best, and it’s astounding that Chloe is actually swallowing that crap. Clara frowns as she tosses another checkered flannel shirt aside. “Chloe, I saw him go off with Jenna.” She tilts her head knowingly and remarks, “I guess she made him feel better.”

“Well, he- he promised it was completely over with her,” the blonde insists.

She stares for a beat at the way Chloe is fidgeting. “You really like him, don’t you?” She just about manages to hide her horror at that realization.

Chloe looks sheepish as she admits, “He may be a little intellectually challenged and a Neanderthal, but he’s really hot.”

Clara snorts.

“Besides, he begged to get together tonight just to talk-”

“Tonight? Didn’t you swear you were done with him?”

Chloe gives her an apologetic look. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I told Sean he could bring me a coffee at the Torch.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“It’s not a date. It’s a fact-finding mission to see if he deserves a date,” she proclaims, though her smile clearly betrays her nervousness and guilt.

Seeing the hopeful – and apologetic – expression on Chloe’s face, Clara sighs in resignation. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Chloe squeals and hugs her, before pulling back. “Hey, who knows? Maybe being around me will be enough to turn him into a decent human being.”

A part of Clara is a little mollified at Chloe’s admission of Sean’s assholery.

But only just a little.

Seeing a worn white v neck t-shirt and a blue button-up in the basket, Chloe tugs them free.

“Uh, these aren’t so bad,” she says. “Blue is at least a good color on you.”

Clara examines it. The tee is actually one of the few things she owns that fits her, which is why she’s worn it so many times until it’s become transparent. She only really wears it now as an undershirt.

“Guess it’ll be fine if I wear the blue shirt over it.”

Chloe isn’t even listening, too excited over her non-date with Sean for anything else. Clara rolls her eyes and resigns herself to dealing with Sean Kelvin for the foreseeable future.

***

Even though Jonathan is dressed in his best suit – though Martha couldn’t get him to wear a proper button-up shirt or a tie – he can’t help but feel completely out of place as one of Lex’s staff – butler? Didn’t rich people have butlers? – leads them towards the library and opens the doors for them.

“Welcome. I’m delighted you decided to come,” Lex says as they enter. There’s a large fire roaring in the fireplace, and fresh flowers strewn about, as though to mitigate the dark atmosphere and ostentatious statues and other undoubtedly expensive decorations that litter the place.

“Your house, it’s very-”

“Large?” Lex interrupts Martha as he walks towards them with a drink in hand.

“To put it mildly,” Jonathan states.

As Martha looks around in amazement, Lex points out, “The word restraint doesn’t exist in my father’s vocabulary.”

Seeing that they’re the only ones present, she says, “I- I’m sorry, are- are we early?”

Lex swallows a sip of his drink and pauses before looking down at his glass, as though not sure of what to say.

“I think we should go,” Jonathan says.

“Wait, wait, Jonathan,” she says quietly, grabbing his arm, “Just because no one else came-”

“That is if anyone else was even invited,” he retorts.

“Oh, I don’t think Lex would-”

“Actually, I would,” Lex interjects softly. When Martha looks at him in surprise and Jonathan sighs, he adds, “I did. But only because I knew you wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

Lex walks up towards Jonathan. “I know your farm’s in trouble, Mr. Kent.”

When Jonathan whips around, he explains, “Small town.”

Jonathan only becomes more belligerent. “So you thought you would just take advantage of my family’s problem?”

Lex remains calm. “No. I thought I could help.”

Looking at Martha’s pleading face, Jonathan sighs. “Well then, I guess we’re here to listen.”

Lex smiles as he takes another sip of his scotch.

***

Lana had been delighted with her birthday gift, more so at the opportunity to be away from Nell for a few hours than anything else. She doesn’t exactly say she’s not a fan of Radiohead, but as she goes on and on about how much Whitney loves the band and how he’s so jealous of her, Clara gets the gist.

She doesn’t have time to feel miffed, however, for the limo pulls up just then, and Clara can’t help but admire its sleek lines.

The driver actually gets out and opens the door for them. It’s a bit of chivalry Clara hasn’t really experienced – being so tall means she’s the one who’s opening doors and holding them for others, not the other way around – and she gets far more pleasure out of it than she expects.

She gapes around a little at the spacious and luxurious interior. The leather seats beneath her are nice and supple, there’s a screen up for privacy, a sunroof, and incredibly, a bar and a television.

“I’ve never actually sat in a limo before tonight,” Clara says as she looks around in awe. “Are all limos like this?”

Lana gives a minute shrug. “I’m not sure. I don’t really have much experience with limos myself.”

The two of them play around with the various controls, and Clara even manages to open up the sunroof. As she doesn’t feel the cold, she eagerly stands up so that she can stick her head out. She only refrains from whooping with delight by the slightest of margins. Knowing she’s letting the cold air in, she finally sits back down and closes the sunroof.

“That was awesome!”

Lana shoots her a happy smile at her enthusiasm before reaching for the remote to turn on the television. “I wonder if this has satellite TV.”

“And in Smallville tonight, police are seeking 17 year old Sean Kelvin after the mysterious death of a fellow Smallville High student Jenna Barnum, whose body was found early this afternoon.”

Clara whips her head towards the screen and sees a photo of Jenna next to the reporter.

“Oh my God,” Lana gasps out in horror.

“Stop the car!” Clara orders.

She barely waits for the driver to stop before she opens the door and hurries out.

“Clara, what’s wrong?”

“Chloe. She was hoping to hear from Sean tonight,” she says, knowing that is a better explanation than anything else she could say. If she gives any indication that Chloe might be meeting up with him, Lana might call the police and they’ll definitely get in the way. Clara isn’t sure what Sean’s power is, exactly, but if he could do that to a deer, then the police probably won’t be able to handle him. “She might need a friend when she hears the news report.”

She thrusts the concert tickets at Lana. “Why don’t you still go? It’s your birthday present. You should still get to enjoy your reprieve from Nell and have fun tonight.”

Lana hesitates. “You sure?”

Clara tries to smile. “Weren’t you telling me Whitney would love to see Radiohead?”

At that, she takes the tickets. “All right, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

With that, Clara runs off, and as soon as she’s out of sight, speeds towards the Torch office.

***

As Chloe is working diligently on the layout of the next issue of The Torch, she hears a noise that could be a knock. Eager to take a break, she gets up from her seat and heads towards the door.

“Sean? Hello? Is that you?”

She doesn’t see anyone when she opens the door, but there’s a huge arrow pointing downwards on the wall across from her. When she looks down, she sees a trail of yellow flower petals leading down the hall.

Utterly charmed, Chloe can’t help but smile. “Okay, this is interesting.”

She slowly follows along the trail of petals, eager anticipation building in her stomach. She’s eventually led to the pool where there is a sign saying “COME IN PLEASE” taped to the door. She peeks in through the window but doesn’t see anyone inside.

As she walks in, she says coyly, “Sean? What’s going on? I agreed to a cappuccino.” She pauses before adding, “If you think I’m skinny-dipping with you, try again, buddy.”

Suddenly the pool door slams shut behind her. When Chloe whips around, she’s startled to see Sean looking blue with what looks like ice forming over his skin. When he locks the door, it rings rather ominously.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. I don’t have a choice.”

“What happened to you?” she gasps out.

He hunches over as he carefully approaches her. “I can’t stay warm.”

Chloe slowly backs away. “Why don’t you just sit by a fire?”

“Because I only get a quick fix. Body heat lasts longer.”

As he lunges, she steps back but she’s run out of the tiled floor and instead falls into the pool. Chloe resurfaces and as she desperately swims across to the other side, Sean leans forward and begins to suck the heat out of the water, quickly turning it into ice. Despite her efforts, she’s not fast enough and as she tries to lift herself out of the pool, her left foot gets trapped in the forming ice.

As Chloe desperately tries to pull her foot out, Sean slowly walks across the surface of the now frozen pool towards her.

“I promise it won’t hurt, Chloe,” he says, which doesn’t reassure her at all.

Thankfully for her, Clara arrives just then and tries to open the door, only to find it locked. Hearing the noise, Chloe looks over and sees her.

“Clara!” she begs.

Sean turns his head just in time to see Clara forcing the locked door open. Pleased he’ll have another body to get heat from, he just watches with a smile as she runs towards Chloe.

“Clara help!”

“You okay?”

“My foot’s stuck,” Chloe pants out.

To Sean’s surprise, Clara is able to smash through the ice with her fist and free Chloe’s foot. As she’s pulling her up, Sean runs forward and grabs onto Clara’s coat-covered arm. Clara turns around and forcefully shoves Sean, sending him flying towards the other side. She quickly follows it up with her artic breath so that his feet are iced over and stuck to the frozen pool.

“What the hell?” he cries out as his attempts to free himself get nowhere. “What did you do, you bitch?”

She doesn’t bother responding. She instead helps Chloe stand up. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe replies breathlessly, still clearly rattled.

Clara hunches over so that Chloe can sling her arm around her shoulders, and she helps bear her weight so that she can walk.

They both ignore the increasingly profanity-laced diatribe from Sean.

“Go! Run!” Clara shouts to Chloe once the blonde is safely out in the hallway. Knowing better than to leave a likely murderer behind, she heads back to the pool and to where he’s still trapped. She socks him in the jaw hard enough to knock him out.

“Clara?” Chloe sounds almost hesitant, and Clara quickly stands back up.

“Come on, let’s get you warmed up and call the police.”

***

They head straight for the Torch office. As Chloe searches for answers while huddled under a blanket Clara fetches from the nurse’s office in a desperate attempt to not think about her near death, Clara calls the police. After, she breaks into the teacher’s lounge to make some coffee for Chloe.

When Clara hands her a mug of hot coffee, Chloe asks, “Did I thank you for that rescue yet?”

Clara perches on the edge of Chloe’s desk. “I heard about Jenna on the news and I didn’t want you to be next.”

Chloe snorts at herself. “Well, I finally find a guy I like and he turns out to be homicidal. Guess I should’ve listened to you about him, huh?”

“You deserved a lot better than Sean even before he… tried to kill you.”

Chloe’s lips twitch. “That’s sweet. I think.”

“Any idea what happened to him?”

“The only similar thing I can find is a medical condition where there’s damage to the thermosensitive cells in the brain. The person literally can’t stay warm. It’s like a permanent case of hypothermia.”

Clara peers at the article over Chloe’s shoulder. “So Sean’s getting his heat where he can take it.”

“Yeah, preferably from high school girls. You saw the pool. You take the heat out of water, you get ice. He’s like a battery that can’t hold its charge. The only thing I can’t figure out is how the whole deer situation relates to this.”

Hearing the sirens, Clara stands up. “Come on, we need to get you home.”

“Sean-”

“- is out cold and the cops and EMTs are almost here. Let them handle it.”

“Should’ve known better than to put dicks before chicks,” Chloe bemoans, and Clara stutters out a laugh. “Lemme tell you, almost getting my heat sucked out? Not a fun experience.”

Clara snorts at that. “I bet.”

“From now on, it’s besties before testes for me.”

Clara groans.

***

Clara soon regrets not sticking around, as apparently by the time the cops and the ambulance arrive, Sean is nowhere to be seen. How he was able to regain consciousness so soon and break free of the ice, she doesn’t know, since as far as she can tell he doesn’t have super strength like Tina.

At least she manages to get Chloe home safely.

Clara heads towards Main Street, figuring Sean would want to be around where he’d be more likely to find bodies to steal heat from, but he’s nowhere to be found. She’s contemplating just waiting out for him in the Beanery when she sees the lights flicker indicating power fluctuations. Realizing Sean must be getting his heat from the Power Relay Station, she speeds away.

Unfortunately, the Power Relay Station is empty by the time Clara arrives. The only evidence of Sean’s presence is the iced-over lock and the torn cables, which are completely frozen.

“Where are you, Sean?” she mumbles under her breath as she looks around to see where he might have gone to next.

The bright lights in the distance are like a beacon in the darkness. It doesn’t take her long to realize it’s the Luthor Mansion, where her parents and Lex are.

Eyes wide with alarm, Clara zips straight over.

***

Meanwhile, in the library at Luthor Mansion, the lights too also go out before coming back up.

“Guess the generator works. Power must have blown. Where were we?” Lex asks Jonathan.

“I believe you were explaining how you could, uh, singlehandedly save the family farmer,” he says, before roughly swallowing the drink in his hand.

“Jonathan,” Martha chastises from her seat on the couch.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Kent. I understand your husband’s skepticism.” Lex’s tone is sharp as he turns and speaks to Jonathan’s back. “Your farm’s drowning in debt, we both know it. All I’m trying to do is offer you a hand but you keep slapping it away.”

“I learned a long time ago from a man much smarter than myself that you need to solve your own problems.”

“Your father lived in different times,” Lex points out. “And he had his share of help.”

As Jonathan stares at him suspiciously, Lex walks over to a table and grabs a file. “It seems government subsidies carried him through a number of lean years.”

Martha rises and reaches for the file as Jonathan looks at the papers over her shoulder.

“Where did you get these?” she asks.

“It’s a matter of public record,” he explains. When both Kents look at him in askance, Lex says almost exasperatedly, “I’m making a business offer. I had to do my due diligence.”

Jonathan remains unmoved. “Why are you so interested in our family, Lex?”

Lex almost sighs. “Your daughter brought me back from the dead, Mr. Kent. When she reached in and pulled me out, she gave me a new life.” Unwilling to say anything more, he turns it around on Jonathan instead. Looking him straight in the eye, he asks, “Your father put his family’s future over his own pride. Are you willing to do the same?”

Jonathan looks away, swallowing roughly. No doubt that one hit very close to home. Lex watches patiently as Martha leads her husband back to the couch before handing over his proposal and explaining the minute details.

As he strokes the fire with a fire poker, Martha repeats, “So you would give us the latest farming equipment and technology.”

“All in exchange for our independence,” Jonathan retorts.

Lex puts the fire poker back in its stand before he gives in to the urge to hit the man in the head with it. “My influence will be minimal but existing, yes. It’s a partnership,” he reiterates, as he heads over to the drinks table.

“We could get a loan,” Jonathan points out.

“Or you could allow me to help you get to the point where you never need someone like me again,” he states as he pours them 3 snifters of brandy.

Martha looks at him before turning back to Jonathan. “I’ll admit, it looks generous.”

Lex doesn’t equivocate. “It is.”

As he brings over two of the snifters to them, Jonathan asks, “Which begs the question – what does Lex Luthor get out of all this?”

Lex holds out the glasses. Although Martha readily accepts hers, Jonathan refrains from taking it from him. “I believe there’s profit to be made. I’m not exactly in the charity business.”

“Like father like son,” Jonathan contemptuously retorts.

Lex forces himself to not react despite knowing Jonathan would’ve still scorned him had his answer been the exact opposite. He just firmly reminds himself that he’s doing this for Clara.

As Lex is about to turn back to the table to grab his own drink, Jonathan finally accepts the snifter of brandy when Martha jabs him in the side with her elbow.

“Take some time to think about it. I’m sure you’ll see the benefits outweigh your other options. To the future,” he toasts.

Just then, the lights flicker before going out altogether. The fire ensures there’s enough light to see by, but Lex puts his drink down and heads towards where his staff put the emergency kit to grab some flashlights.

He hands two of them to Jonathan and Martha. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Jonathan replies rather sullenly.

Lex holds back the urge to throttle him and instead shoots him a cool smile. “I’m just going to go check on the generator. I’ll leave the two of you to discuss my offer.”

With that, he leaves the library.

***

Lex waves off his staff and decides to check out the generator himself. After having been holed up with Jonathan Kent for what feels like days, he needs a break and some fresh air. He heads to the side of the house where the generator is located, and is startled to find that it’s completely encased in ice.

“What the hell?”

“Hello,” comes a voice from behind him.

Although it could just be the weak light from the flashlight that’s playing tricks on him, Lex swears the boy has what looks like blue skin and ice particles all over his face.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? This is a private property,” Lex sternly warns him.

“I’m Sean, and I just want to get warm.”

“Get away from him, Sean,” Clara says as she runs towards them to stand beside Lex.

“Clara,” Lex greets with surprise. “Shouldn’t you be fifth row center right about now?”

“Go in the house, Lex,” she tells him. When it looks like he’ll argue, she squeezes his hands. “Please. Go, now!”

He narrows his eyes. “If you’re in some kind of trouble-”

Realizing that trying to convince Lex to head for safety without her would be futile, she instead turns to Sean.

“Sean, you have to get to a hospital.”

“What are they going to do? Put me under an electric blanket?” he says disdainfully. “I need heat, Kent, contact! That’s the only thing that’s going to work for me. Every person’s another fix.”

“You’re not getting Lex and you’re not getting into that house,” she tells him.

“Who’s gonna stop me? You? Ooh! Brr!” he shivers mockingly before throwing a punch.

Clara ducks, and grabbing a wrench next to the frozen generator, she hits him over the head in hopes of knocking him out again. When he crumbles, she turns to Lex.  

“Lex, run!”

Unfortunately for her, Sean isn’t knocked out, and he uses her distraction to grab her legs. She can feel the chill emanating from where he’s sucking the heat out of her using his hands, and she once again uses the wrench to strike his arms until he’s forced to let go.

Hoping he’ll chase her rather than go after Lex, Clara runs into the woods surrounding the Luthor Mansion. Hearing his footsteps, she speeds on ahead until she finds herself by Hob’s Pond. She turns around and uses her x-ray vision to scan the woods in front of her, and is horrified when she sees two bodies heading her way, with Lex getting closer to Sean.

Knowing she can’t let Sean find Lex, she heads directly for him.

“Sean, you need help,” she tries again.

He isn’t listening. Instead, he takes a deep breath, and Clara swears she can feel the heat leaving her body.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Kent, but I haven’t felt this good in two days. And when I’m done with you, there’s your mom, your dad, and Lex,” he says, mocking the way she says his name.

She backs away but he keeps following her, taking deep breaths all the while, and for the first time, Clara feels genuinely cold. Deciding she can’t keep going like this, she decides to use fire with fire – or in this case, ice with ice.

“I’ll never let you hurt them,” she says, before taking a deep breath of her own and blowing it out at him.

As Sean jerks away, he stumbles and grabs onto her arm. Clara flings him away from her before he can suck out even more of her body heat, and he splashes into the middle of the pond. As Clara watches, the water freezes from where Sean fell in, until the entire pond is frozen solid in mere seconds.

“Clara! Clara!”

Snapping out of it, she runs back towards Lex. When he sees her, he hugs her tightly.

“Are you all right?” he demands.

“I’m fine, Lex,” she tells him, even as she finds herself burrowing in a little closer. She tells herself it’s because she’s still cold.

He rubs his hands over her arms, trying to warm her up. “What was that all about?”

“It’s a long story. Can we go inside? I want to see my parents.”

“Of course,” he says, and she leans against his shoulder as they walk back to the mansion.

***

The next morning, Lex enters the barn where Jonathan is working on his motorcycle. His steps ring loudly in the silence.

“Morning. I heard you took out a bank loan today.”

Jonathan lets out a silent sigh. “Did you?” he says flatly.

“After our conversation last night, I was… frankly surprised. You despise me that much?”

He looks up at that. “Believe it or not, Lex, some things actually have nothing to do with you. I decided to bet on my family.”

Lex can’t let that stand. “You’re betting with Clara’s future,” he argues. “I’m just trying to ensure it.”

“Yeah, well so am I.”

He can’t believe Jonathan’s stubborn pride. “With the bank? They’ll kill you with interest while waiting for you to fail,” he points out, feeling like he’s rather stating the obvious.

Jonathan looks Lex straight in the eye. “At least with the bank, I know where I stand.”

Lex doesn’t release the utter sigh of frustration that wants to escape. “I know you don’t believe me, but I genuinely want to help you.”

Jonathan nods, but it’s clear the words are falling on deaf ears.

He bites back a lot of choice words. Instead, he forces himself to say, “When you change your mind, my offer still stands.”

And with that, Lex strides out of the barn.

***

The mood at school that morning is somber with the news of Dustin’s death and Jenna’s murder. Unlike Dustin, whose bullying tendencies hadn’t really endeared him to many people, Jenna had been popular enough that most of the student population is in mourning. There’s even a shrine set up for Jenna near her locker, where a smiling photo of her is taped to the wall, with cards stuck all around it. The tabletop is littered with flowers, cards, stuffed animals, and candles. Chloe lights another candle before placing it on the shrine as Clara and Pete walk up.

“You okay?” she asks Chloe.

Her voice is quiet. “Yeah. I was just thinking how that could have been me. All because some guy expressed some modicum of interest in me,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh. “I thought I was stronger than that.”

Pete soothingly runs his hand up and down her arm as they head towards homeroom.

Clara says, “Everybody’s searching for their soul mate, Chloe. It’s not a sign of weakness.”

Chloe exhales before remarking, “I’m swearing off men.”

“Hey, we’re not all bad,” Pete objects. “Maybe you should just swear off heat seeking assholes.” He then proceeds to poke Chloe’s ticklish spots until she laughs.

“Yeah well, the next time a guy asks me out, I’m definitely doing an in-depth background check.”

“Probably a good idea,” Clara echoes, “especially in Smallville.”

Chloe turns gimlet eyes on Pete. “Want me to check out Jodi, make sure she’s not a homicidal maniac?”

“I’ll have you know that unlike you, I have impeccable taste,” he says, sticking his nose in the air.

“Oh, it’s on,” Chloe says, and Pete runs away from her.

Clara eyes their antics with a fond smile before continuing to make her way to class.

***

Their homeroom teacher announces that all classes for the day have been cancelled due to the horrific deaths of two of their own. She informs them that they’ll instead be assigned to a study group for that morning, with the school to be adjourned early just after lunch.

Chloe and Clara are thankfully assigned to the same study group, along with Jodi, which gives them plenty of opportunity to discuss Dustin’s weird manner of death.

“So time to revisit the fat-sucking vampire theory?”

Dustin’s body, which seemingly had all the fat sucked out of it, had been found that morning in the school boiler room by a janitor. It’s left everyone baffled and not a little horrified, and the whole situation certainly has Clara more than a little concerned, especially since Dustin’s death is unlikely to have been caused by Sean.

“Come on, let’s get Jodi and see if she’ll mind if we move to the Torch office for some research.”

When they don’t see the redhead in the homeroom – and in fact, neither of them can even recall seeing her that morning – they shrug and head directly for the Torch office.

“So why would anybody want to steal body fat?”

“I know, it takes eating disorders to a whole new level,” Chloe comments.

Researching doesn’t really get them anywhere, however, and they’re eventually busted by Principal Kwan, who orders them to get to the cafeteria as it’s lunchtime. Although neither of them have much of an appetite, they obediently make their way over. And seeing Jodi sitting by herself, they head towards her.

To their surprise, unlike all the other students who are a little too uneasy and in shock to eat anything, Jodi is surprisingly sitting with a lot of food in front of her. She has two full plates of meals along with piles of dessert, and it’s not just for show.

“Jodi,” Clara greets.

“Hi guys. What’s up?” she says through a mouthful of food.

“Uh, study group, remember?” Chloe asks.

Jodi looks surprised. “Totally slipped my mind.”

But instead of apologizing or showing any sort of disquiet over the deaths, she returns to her plate where she’s busy cutting up the chicken.

“So, no more veggie shakes, huh?” Chloe prompts, before exchanging a concerned look with Clara at the way Jody is devouring her food, barely chewing anything before swallowing it down.

“Are you feeling okay?” Clara asks gently. “Pete said you felt sick yesterday.”

“Oh that. I’m fully recovered,” she reassures them before turning back to her food.

“I guess it’s safe to say that the diet’s finally over,” Chloe tries again.

Jodi says with her mouth full, “Mmm, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything all morning.”

When she looks up and sees their concerned expressions, she pauses. “I’m just a little nervous about the party tonight.”

Chloe nods, as though to show that she understands, even if it’s clear she doesn’t. Clara doesn’t either. In fact, she thinks it isn’t right to celebrate when two people have died, but Nell is refusing to cancel the party, insisting that it won’t do anyone any good to be alone and wallow, and that a party will be just the thing to cheer up the students of Smallville High. Clara knows that many of the students won’t be attending, and if she wouldn’t feel guilty for ditching, she wouldn’t be going either.

Jodi continues to stuff her face from her two full plates of burger and fries and chicken and potato salad, before swallowing down a scoop of pudding. She’s eating way too fast that Clara doubts she’s even tasting the food, as otherwise she has a feeling there’d be no way she’d be mixing potato salad and pudding in the same mouthful. Clara can speed eat as well, of course, but she actually speed chews so her food is completely digestible when she swallows.

“Jodi…”

She reluctantly pulls away from her plates of food to meet their gazes. When she realizes she’s making a mess of herself, she grows self-conscious. She quickly grabs the napkins and wipes her mouth – doing her best to ignore the splatters on her shirt – and grabs two of the Ho Hos.

“Um, I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Chloe watches her go before turning back to Clara. “Okay, what was that about?”

Clara stares at Jodi in concern. “I don’t know.”

Seeing the time on the wall clock, she stands. “I gotta get going. We’ll talk about this later?”

“Okay,” Chloe answers distractedly.

***

When Clara shows up at the mansion, Lana is nowhere to be seen. Lana had begged her to come and offer her support that afternoon before the party, and despite her reluctance, she’d agreed and had shown up on time. Except Lana isn’t anywhere to be found, to her – and Nell’s – frustrations.

Still, Clara can understand. If people died before her birthday party, she’d be more than a little freaked out too.

She watches from the balcony at the hubbub going on below in the ballroom. Plenty of balloons and streamers are already up, cheerful bursts of white and pink everywhere, but Nell frowns at them, clearly displeased. Clara wonders if she is regretting insisting on going through with the party.

“What do you think?” Lex asks as he approaches.

“It’s really… something.”

His lips quirk into a smile. “It’s what the birthday girl wants.”

Clara shrugs. “I’m not sure about that. She seemed very anti-birthday, even before… everything.”

Lex’s eyebrow rises. “And you don’t approve?”

She eyes the staff working furiously to put it all together, Nell overseeing everything carefully, all so that Lana can have a great time. Except she’ll likely not even enjoy or appreciate their efforts, and Clara knows it won’t be because of the deaths of Dustin and Jenna.

“I just think… if she didn’t want all this, she should’ve said so from the beginning and spared Nell and you some grief. And since she didn’t, she should just suck it up and enjoy it. Not everyone gets to have these magical birthday parties, you know? And she doesn’t even seem to appreciate that fact at all.”

Clara sighs, realizing how jealous and whiny she sounds. She shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m just not in the right mood, I guess.”

“Clara, you don’t have to apologize to me for speaking your mind.”

She looks down at the ballroom before saying, “I think I’m gonna head home, get ready for the party.”

Lex gently touches her arm. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little sorry for myself, which is ridiculous.”

Seeing the concern in his eyes, she lets out a sigh. “I’ve never had a real birthday party, and I’ve never been to one either. But it’s stupid. I have my parents, friends, you… Everything else is just trappings and I don’t need them to be happy.”

At that, her smile becomes a little more genuine. She turns to go home before abruptly turning back.

“Hey Lex, save me a dance?”

His eyes widen in surprise but he nods all the same.

***

Clara is making her way down the stairs in her homecoming dress, which she and her mom have done their best to painstakingly repair since she couldn’t afford a new outfit just for Lana’s birthday party, when Chloe walks into the house in a rush.

“Clara, you have to take a look at this,” she says when she spots her, and holds out a piece of yellow paper.

Clara frowns. “Chloe, why aren’t you dressed?”

“I didn’t have time. Clara, you really, really need to check this out,” she stresses, and Clara takes the paper.

“Body and fender, replaced windshield, replaced side panels. Cause of accident: Impact with deer,” she reads aloud.

“It was Jodi’s car,” Chloe tells her.

Clara frowns. “What do you think happened to her?”

“Her house is built right next to one of the big meteor hits.”

Clara’s eyes widen. “And she lost all that weight by drinking juice from vegetables grown in the soil in her greenhouse.”

The blonde nods. “It must have done something to her metabolism. She’s losing weight too fast to keep up with regular food.”

“And that’s why she needs body fat.”

“Exactly,” Chloe says.

“We need to find her.”

“Jodi wouldn’t let anything keep her from getting to that party,” Chloe reminds her.

It hits Clara. “Pete.” She turns to Chloe. “You go get dressed – I’ll get Pete.”

***

Unfortunately for Clara, Pete’s already at Jodi’s house. He’s holding a bouquet of roses, and when Jodi opens the door, he’s taken aback by how beautiful she looks in her form-fitting red dress.

“Whoa. Hi.”

Jodi happily greets him. “Hi.”

“Perfect flowers for a perfect date,” he says charmingly as he offers her the bouquet.

She takes them with a wide smile and as she goes inside to turn out the lights, Pete takes the opportunity to check out his reflection in the glass window and make sure everything’s in place.

Once she shuts the door, they slowly walk towards his car.

“They’re beautiful, Pete,” she tells him, admiring the roses before lifting the bouquet to take in their scent.

“So’s that dress,” he says, gallantly offering her his arm.

“Thanks. It was my mom’s.”

As Pete pulls the car keys out of his suit pocket, Jodi’s stomach rumbles. She stops dead in her tracks.

Feeling Jodi pull her arm out from his, he turns around. “Something wrong?”

“I’m fine. I just need to eat.”

When her stomach rumbles again, he looks concerned. “That doesn’t sound right. Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

He tries to lead her to the car but she jerks away and backs up towards the house.

“You’ve always been good to me, Pete,” she tells him, clearly distressed, before she turns and runs for her front door. “Please, go away now!”

“Jodi!” Pete calls out after her.

She opens the door. “Go away,” she orders before slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

“Jodi, wait!”

Unfortunately for her, Pete doesn’t leave. Instead, he stands on her doorstep and keeps knocking on the door.

“Jodi. Jodi, come on! Jodi!”

When she refuses to answer, he tries to force open the door. Unfortunately the door doesn't at all budge, and his efforts only leave him with a bruised arm and an aching shoulder. He considers leaving and maybe calling someone for help, but all he has are suspicions and he doesn’t want to get Jodi into trouble.

When knocking doesn’t get him anywhere, Pete decides to see if there’s another way into the house. Seeing the glass doors that lead to the kitchen, he tries and smiles when the glass door slides open easily.

“Jodi? Jodi, where are you?”

She’s curled up in a corner on the tiled floor of the kitchen, her head balanced on top of her knees. The bouquet of flowers he’s given her lie on the floor beside her.

She cries, “Pete, please get away!”

“Jodi?” he says, approaching slowly, trying to see where everything is in the dark.

“Pete, please, go home.”

“Come on, Jodi, you don’t have to hide,” he says as gently as he can.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Come on, Jodi, you couldn’t hurt a-” he stops when he at last sees her. He again hears a loud rumbling.

“I just wanted to be skinny,” she says with a sob. “There’s only so much a person can take.”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

“Please leave,” she begs him.

But he doesn’t, and when she looks up and sees him standing there, her expression changes. Looking nothing like the smiling, happy face of earlier, Jodi stands and forcefully shoves him down onto the floor. Pete hits his head on the tile and is knocked out. When Jodi slowly crouches down over him, her mouth opens wide, wider than is humanly possible, getting ready to drain the fat from Pete’s body.

Just then, Clara slams through the front door.

“Jodi? Pete?”

Jodi freezes, and when she realizes what she’d just been about to do, gets up and runs outside. Hearing the clack of heels, Clara heads for the kitchen and sees Pete’s body on the floor.

“Pete, you okay? Pete, what’s wrong?”

He groans but doesn’t otherwise look to be waking up. He’s clearly not up to answering any questions, but a quick scan with her x-ray vision shows Clara that he’s not bleeding and that nothing is broken. He might have a concussion or something, but he’s otherwise going to be okay.

She looks around and seeing the opened glass door, she runs outside. She can’t see Jodi but she sees the large greenhouse. She zips straight over.

“Jodi!” she calls out and hesitates at the threshold of the greenhouse, knowing there are likely plenty of meteor rocks around. Still, knowing she doesn’t have a choice, Clara carefully enters and braces herself for the familiar sensation of weakness and pain.  

Of course, Jodi sneaks up behind her and smacks her in the back of the head with a shovel. Clara falls to the ground with a cry.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You’re sick,” Clara says as she struggles to stand. “Whatever you did to yourself, you can get help.”

“All I wanted was to be thin!” Jodi screams as she swings the shovel again, but this time Clara ducks. When Jodi tries again, she catches the shovel by the blade with her hand, only for Jodi to then kick her and send her sprawling away from the door and towards one of the glass walls, and ever closer to the meteor rocks.

“Jodi, this isn’t you,” Clara says as she struggles to get up.

“What, isn’t this what I’m supposed to look like?” she says mockingly.

She then hits Clara in the face with the shovel, knocking her through the glass partition. She raises the shovel over her head, preparing to finish Clara off, but stops when she sees her own reflection in the shards of the broken glass.

“Look at me, I’m a freak,” Jodi says in horror. She turns away. “I know how to stop this for good.”

With that, she uses the shovel to smash a gas pipe, causing gas to start leaking out. Looking around and spying the halogen lamps hanging from the ceiling, she goes to use the shovel to smash them, to cause a spark to ignite and create an explosion.

“No, wait!” Clara shouts as she struggles up. She grabs a hold of Jodi, trying to stop her, but it’s too late. The shovel smashes through the lamps, and the force of Clara trying to pull Jodi back only causes her to topple backwards near a cluster of meteor rocks as the greenhouse explodes around them in a giant inferno.

The noise is enough to fully wake Pete. Rubbing the back of his head, which is throbbing, he slowly walks through the kitchen door to the outside.

“Jodi?” he calls out. When he sees the remnant of the greenhouse, burned out with bits still on fire, he sprints over.

“Clara!” he yells, seeing her body lying on the ground. It looks like the explosion has flung her away. He collapses beside her and his hands flutter over her body, unsure where he can touch without causing more harm.

Clara groans before her body jerks back up, her eyes wide. “Jodi!”

Ignoring Pete trying to restrain her, she rushes over to the greenhouse. The force of the explosion had sent her away from the meteor rocks, allowing her to recover, but unlike her, Jodi didn’t have an invulnerable body.

By the time Pete joins her, Clara has recovered Jodi’s disfigured remains. As he collapses beside her, she squeezes his shoulder in comfort before heading back into the house to call 911.

***

Clara quietly walks through the front door of the Kent home that hardly anyone uses, and shuts it gently behind her. She looks around, hoping she hasn’t alerted either of her parents. The last thing she needs is to be questioned about what happened. But all her attempts at avoidance mean nothing as a worried Jonathan and Martha are already waiting for her in the living room by the fireplace.

They hurriedly stand up from the couch when they see her.

“Clara, what happened? The police called.”

“I’m fine,” she reassures her mother.

Jonathan asks, “How’s Pete?”

“He’s got a serious migraine, but other than that he’s okay. Physically, that is.” Clara sighs. “He really liked her.”

As she collapses onto the couch, her parents sit back down on either side of her. Jonathan pulls her closer as Martha gently runs her fingers over Clara’s hair.

“I’m sorry about the party,” she says. “I know how much you wanted to attend.”

“It would’ve been my first birthday party,” Clara says sadly.

“I know, but Clara, when you do the things you do, helping people, then sometimes you have to make sacrifices,” Jonathan tells her.

“Like birthday parties?”

“Maybe,” Martha answers. “But you made your choice, and I’m sure Pete for one is glad that you chose to save his life. And so are we.”

Clara knows her mother’s right, but not everything from this evening is unsalvageable. She swallows determinedly and gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t have to sacrifice everything,” she says before rushing out of the house, leaving her parents to stare after her with perplexed looks.

***

Lex is surprised when Clara doesn’t show, and disappointed as well, though he thinks it might be for the best that they don't get to dance after all. The last thing he needs is more rumors about him swirling around Smallville, especially ones that pertain to him engaging in inappropriate relations with a minor. He can’t deny that he’s attracted to Clara, but he has no intention of acting on his desires.

Still, without Clara’s presence, Lex finds little interest in remaining at the party, particularly when the mood remains somber despite Nell’s best efforts. And so as soon as he can, he ducks into his study.

By the time Clara enters the mansion, the party has long since ended and only the staff are in the ballroom, cleaning up. When she enters Lex’s study, she sees that she’s surprised him.

“Clara,” he says in greeting. “What brings you by?”

“I’m sorry I missed our dance,” she tells him, fidgeting with her fingers. “I was hoping… that is… Will you dance with me?” she blurts out.

Lex freezes momentarily before he clears his throat and stands. “It’d be my pleasure.”

He turns on the stereo system and a mellow jazz music emanates from the speakers. As they gently sway, he feels her fingers accidentally brushing his neck. He can’t help but shiver. He forces himself to pull away, and as he does, his fingers encounter hers, and just that bare brush of skin on skin causes Clara to shudder in response. When he looks at her, she’s flushed, her face a rosy hue and her eyes a bright blue.

“You’d better get home before you break curfew,” he tells her.

She looks away before nodding. “Thank you for the dance.”

With that, she hurriedly leaves his study. Lex pours himself a finger of scotch and gulps it down, before pouring himself some more.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Unsurprisingly, Clara’s dreams that night are full of Lex. In her dream, their dance doesn’t end with Lex sending her home with the embarrassing reminder that she has a curfew; instead, when she shudders after Lex accidentally caresses her fingers, his eyes darken with desire and he kisses her. Dream Lex’s fingertips gently trail up her bare arm and shoulder, leaving goosebumps along the way, only to pause when encountering a gap in the fabric of her dress on her chest. Just when his fingers are about to tease that bare patch of skin, Clara wakes up floating above her bed.

But this time, the resultant crash down to Earth isn’t why Clara groans – this time, it’s due to her utter disappointment at the fact that her fantasy had ended far too soon.

Clara knows of sex, of course – living on a farm means the mechanics involved aren’t news to her, and she’s long since had the talk with her mother. Not to mention that while the computer in her room is ancient with an Internet connection speed that’s glacial, it doesn’t have any parental monitoring and porn isn’t hard to find. And although she’s never had a boyfriend, it isn’t as though she’s never fantasized about being so intimate with someone.

What’s different now is that she isn’t imagining some abstract or imaginary figure but an actual person she knows, someone who’s her friend. It feels like a betrayal of that friendship then to fantasize and dream about Lex in acts he wouldn’t consent to in reality.

Sighing, Clara looks at the clock on her bedside table before groaning once again. It’s far too early to be up, but she knows there’s no way she’ll be able to go back to sleep now. Deciding to at least get her chores done and over with, she reluctantly gets out of bed. But even when her chores are all completed – and at normal speed at that – it’s still too early; so early, in fact, that her parents won’t be stirring awake for another hour.

Rather than heading back into the house, she heads over to the loft and collapses backwards onto the battered couch. With nothing to do, her thoughts inevitably turn back to Lex and her dream. Despite the guilt that arises in the pit of her stomach, she can’t help but recall the touch of his fingers on her bare skin. Shivering at the remembrance of that pleasure, Clara closes her eyes as she caresses the neckline bared by her shirt. She wonders if that’s what Lex’s fingers would feel like on her skin. Recalling her dream, she gently trails her fingers down her chest. At the feel of flannel blocking her way, she huffs and practically tears the shirt off of her. After a beat – and a judicious use of her x-ray vision to ensure she’s completely alone – she takes the undershirt and bra off as well, before awkwardly laying back down.

And proceeds to fidget in discomfort.

Clara finally huffs and mutters to herself, “This is ridiculous!”

Snatching the blanket off the back of the couch and covering herself with it, she sulks in frustration. With the mood effectively ruined, she’s about to get dressed again when a thought – however improbable – comes to her: what if Lex happens to swing by just then and sees her?

Clara blushes. She doesn’t have an exhibitionist streak or anything, and were Lex to happen upon her in reality, she’d be utterly horrified. Yet it’s arousing to imagine herself being watched by Lex as she touches herself, as she trails her fingers down over her navel and the thatch of hair before slowly caressing the most secret part of herself. She doubts she’ll have the guts to spread her legs so that he could have an unobstructed view like those porn stars, but maybe once she’s so far gone into her pleasure, her legs will just naturally part, allowing herself to be splayed bare for his gaze. She wonders if he’ll groan, if he’ll continue to stand there across from her, watching. Or maybe he’ll join her, touch her where she wants to be touched, maybe even lick her-

Feeling her eyes start to burn, Clara opens them. To her surprise, she can feel something emanating from her eyes, almost like a laser beam. Whatever it is, it hits the chair by the mirror, causing it to burst into flames.

Stunned, she remains immobile for a few moments before she finally realizes the fire is real and uses her arctic breath to put it out before it can spread anywhere else. Staring at the scorched remnants of a chair, it’s all she can do to keep still. What, now she can’t even fantasize without setting something on fire? Does that mean she can’t masturbate? How will she date someone, maybe one day marry someone, if she can’t ever-?

“How is this my life?”

***

Martha and Jonathan are clearly startled when they see her awake with her chores already completed when they come downstairs that morning.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Martha lovingly kisses the top of her head as she rounds the kitchen table to make breakfast.

Clara mumbles something unintelligible. She feels despondent at what her new power might mean for the future, but she is certainly far too embarrassed to mention it to her parents. To be fair, her mother has always been open and honest and willing to discuss any of her concerns about her body, and when Clara had had to examine her genitalia with the use of a mirror to determine if there’s a structural reason she isn’t menstruating, Martha had been straightforward and clinical yet reassuring too. But Clara isn’t ready to talk about her newest issue yet, if she ever is. It’s bad enough she won’t ever be able to have any children – even if her alien eggs are viable, considering her general indestructibility, it’s likely her eggs can’t be fertilized by human sperm – now there’s a distinct possibility that she won’t be able to have sex either. Her only hope is that she’s able to master this power like she’s done with the other ones, and that being able to control it somehow means that when she does become aroused, she won’t be setting anything on fire.

Seeing as she has certainly never felt less aroused in her life, she wonders if she’ll have to force herself to masturbate in order to get control over this heat vision. How feasible that is considering the highly flammable nature of everything around her, especially in places where she can be assured of her privacy, she doesn’t know, and the prospect of mandatory masturbation sessions can’t possibly sound less appealing.

Depressed and wanting to be left alone, Clara hopes her parents attribute her mood to being sleep deprived. Her hopes are in vain, however, as rather than letting her be, Martha puts her arm around her.

“Clara, you know that those deaths aren’t your fault,” she says quietly but firmly.

Clara closes her eyes before thunking her head gently onto the tabletop. She’d completely forgotten. She’d been so preoccupied over her feelings for Lex and her newest unwanted power and what that might mean for her future, that she’d forgotten all about the 4 students who had just died.

She feels like the worst kind of scum.

“You can’t save everyone, Clara,” Jonathan tries next. “You did your best-”

“I forgot!” she nearly wails. “How could I forget that people died? I really am an alien!”

“Sweetheart,” Martha says soothingly, “It’s human nature to want to forget the terrible things that happen. It’s just how we protect ourselves. After my mother passed away… there were times when I forgot that she’d died, when her death wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. In those moments I was almost happy, and able to go about my day without being crippled by the loss of my mother. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No, of course not!”

“And so if there were times I didn’t recall the death of my mother, someone I dearly loved, is it really surprising you couldn’t remember the deaths of those kids when you didn’t even really know them?”

Martha lets that sink in.

“I’m not saying their deaths aren’t any less tragic. But since you didn’t know them, you weren’t directly impacted by their deaths. It’s still terrible, just less personal.”

Clara shakes her head and balks at that. “How can it not be personal? Sean and Jodi were changed by the meteor rocks-”

“You don’t know that, Clara,” Martha interjects. “Your father and I have been talking and-- well, everyone in Smallville has been around these meteor rocks, even us, but you don’t see any of us developing any kind of… abilities.”

Jonathan adds, “Besides, even if you’re right, it still doesn’t make you responsible. Jenna and Dustin died because Sean and Jodi chose to kill them, and Sean and Jodi’s own actions led to their deaths. They could’ve asked for help but they didn’t, and in fact, they actively refused to seek help when given the opportunity. That’s not your fault.”

Clara sighs and leans into Martha’s embrace for a few moments.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” she manages to get out eventually, and she speeds upstairs before they can try and stop her.

***

Although a couple of hours later finds Clara still hiding upstairs in her bedroom, Martha and Jonathan wordlessly decide to leave her be. It’s more than likely she’s brooding, but forcing her to join them for lunch isn’t going to do any good. Besides, considering how early she’d gotten up that morning, it’s possible she is sleeping, and they don’t want to bother her in case she actually is getting some rest.

They do agree that she needs to come down for dinner, however. Wallowing for a couple of hours is all well and good, but any longer than that is unhealthy. Not to mention Clara needs to eat – they doubt she’s had much for breakfast, and she’s already skipped lunch.  

As is habit, Martha is baking her worries out in the kitchen. This time, it’s chocolate chip cookies, and if she hopes Clara is enticed by the smell and voluntarily comes back downstairs… well, surely she can’t be the only parent in the world who has ever bribed their child?

It still takes her by surprise when her plan works even better than she’d hoped.

“Mom?”

Martha quickly looks up from where she’s pulling the last batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven and shoots her a welcoming – and relieved – smile.

“They’re fresh out of the oven,” she says, waving the cookie sheet temptingly.

The sight – and smell – of the cookies has Clara heading straight for the fridge to pull out a bottle of milk. As Martha places the cookies on the cooling rack, Clara grabs two cups and pours milk into them before taking a seat.

Not bothering to get a plate, Clara pops an entire chocolate chip cookie into her mouth, even as Martha admonishes her to let them cool first. She barely finishes chewing the soft cookie before she’s devouring another one, though this time, she washes it all down with milk rather than continuing on. She’s only delaying having a conversation with her mother, and it’s certainly not going to get any easier to bring up even if she eats the entire tray as a stall tactic. And so, she takes a deep breath and decides to rip it off like a Band-Aid.

“I feel almost… relieved that Sean and Jodi aren’t a threat anymore,” Clara lets out in a rush. She hurriedly adds, “I mean, I still feel bad that I couldn’t save them, but I remember how terrible I felt when Emily died. And I don’t feel the same guilt that I did then, and I…”

She trails off, and not sure of what else to say, grabs another cookie for want of something to do. Scared that she’s disappointed her mother, she refuses to look up.

A part of the problem is that she’d saved Jeremy and Tina – and Coach Walt, even if he’d died later in the hospital – and some form of Greg, considering the lack of a body and all those bugs that had come crawling out from under the heavy metal that had fallen on him and had escaped into the woods. And yet she had failed to save Jodi, and her instinctive reaction of flinging Sean away from her in self-defense had inadvertently led to his death. The combination of that and feeling something like relief that Sean and Jodi are dead and are no longer a threat troubles her, to say the least.

Clara had felt tremendous amount of guilt over her failure to save Emily for years despite having done everything she could; and while she feels some sense of regret that she couldn’t save Sean and Jodi, that she doesn’t feel the same remorse now strikes her as… wrong, somehow, considering she bears far more culpability this time around. She tries to tell herself that unlike Emily, Sean and Jodi had tried their best to kill her and her family and friends, and that had she not stopped them, they would’ve succeeded. Not that they hadn’t deserved to be saved just because they’d killed other people, of course, but she had only set out to stop them, nothing more; indeed, she’d tried to get them to seek help. That she’d failed isn’t her fault.

But she still can’t help feeling like she would feel more remorse for her failure to save them had she been human.

Martha’s hand covers her own, stopping her before she picks apart another cookie. Clara at last looks up and meets her mother’s warm gaze.

“Sweetheart, it’s perfectly natural that you feel relief at the absence of a threat to yourself and to your loved ones. Some would probably even feel satisfied at that outcome. That you still feel even a little bit guilty that you couldn’t save them… that makes you far more kind and compassionate than most.”

Clara’s shoulders relax minutely and she nods.  

When it looks like Clara is finished, Martha lovingly squeezes her hand. “Now, finish your snack. Dinner will be in a couple of hours,” she reminds her.

“Thanks mom.”

***

Despite all of her parents’ reassurances, it isn’t until that Monday at school when she realizes she isn’t alone in her feelings of being largely unaffected by the deaths of her fellow students that Clara finds herself truly relieved. Not that she doesn’t believe her parents, of course, but she knows they’re naturally biased towards her because she’s their daughter, and she can’t help but worry that they’re telling her what she wants to hear rather than what’s true. So it allays her fears when she realizes her parents hadn’t just been trying to make her feel better.

As she goes about her day, Clara can’t help but frown at the fact that, aside from Pete, no one appears to miss Jodi. In fact, no one appears to be giving even a thought to her death. Jenna still has her ever-growing shrine, and with everyone so insistent on not speaking ill of the dead, Dustin has more than a few people saying complimentary things about him. Even Sean has his supporters despite being implicated in Jenna’s death, likely because it seems impossible that he could’ve frozen and shattered her body like that. But besides Pete, no one seems to care about Jodi that Clara can’t help but feel rather bad for her and the awful hand she’d been dealt.

That Pete is taking Jodi’s death particularly hard isn’t surprising, of course. She’d been his first girlfriend – even if their first and only date had ended disastrously – and the loss of that potential has only made him put her on a pedestal, with all the what-ifs becoming even more rose-colored. And so despite knowing Jodi is responsible for Dustin’s murder, Pete can’t help but excuse her actions claiming she’d been justified considering how he’d tormented her for so long. He alienates not a few people by speaking disparagingly of Dustin, since everyone else is trying their best to not speak ill of the dead.

Chloe, however, remains staunchly anti-Jodi – or rather, anti-“meteor freaks,” as she has decided to call them. Sorely disappointed and frustrated to discover that no one appears to be concerned or curious over the bizarre methods of death of their fellow students – after all, it’s not like Dustin’s desiccated corpse or Jenna’s shattered body could’ve been caused by LuthorCorp – Chloe has decided to forcefully remove everyone’s willful blinders by putting together an article about her Wall of Weird in The Torch.

“I’m determined to tell everyone the truth about Smallville and its meteor freaks,” Chloe declares when Clara enters the Torch office.

Having hoped to escape the somber mood that had fallen over the school at the appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Barnum, to now find herself having to instead deal with another of Chloe’s obsessive Wall of Weird projects is like having jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Clara frowns.

“Plenty of people in Smallville have been exposed to the meteor rocks yet they aren’t being changed by them,” she points out, repeating her mother’s argument. “Besides, we don’t how Sean got his powers. Maybe it’s not the meteor rocks.”

Chloe rolls her eyes at her seeming naivety. “Crater Lake is one of the sites that got hit, and Sean was tossing around a football by the lake at the party. I asked around, and all the guys said he ran off to catch a ball that got tossed too far. They then got distracted by the arrival of the pizza and returned to the bonfire before Sean brought the ball back. When they didn’t see him, they figured he hooked up with somebody instead. My guess is Sean probably fell through the ice and into the cold, meteor rock-infested water – it certainly explains his desperate need to seek heat. As for why only some of the people exposed turn into meteor freaks…” she taps her lips with her finger and her eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Hmm, well, maybe some people are particularly vulnerable to developing powers and going crazy.”

“But why call them meteor freaks?” Clara asks, discomfited by the term.

Chloe says brightly, “I need a catchy headline. Besides, it’s true. Their powers are freaky and they’re psychotic murderers.”

Clara doesn’t quite know what to say to that. It’s true that these… mutants have displayed homicidal tendencies as well as powers, some more bizarre than others – being able to physically morph their body or ability to summon fire is practically normal when compared to sucking out heat and fat which are definitely on the weird end of the power spectrum, and really, she would know – but she’s not sure if they’ve been there all along and only got exacerbated or if the meteor rocks had fundamentally altered them to such a degree that they in turn developed those murderous impulses.

And a part of her can’t help but wonder what Chloe would call her if she were ever to discover the truth. An elaborate name, like ‘The Biggest Freakshow on Earth’? Or something more simple and to the point, like ‘Alien’?

Swallowing roughly, Clara forces her thoughts to return to the point at hand: meteor rocks and the mutations they cause in humans. Even if the meteor rocks aren’t responsible for altering people in some way, she wants them to be removed and disposed of safely given her particular vulnerability to them. Not only would their permanent absence minimize the risk of her being discovered as an alien, but in the worst-case scenario where she gets kidnapped, she’ll easily be able to escape if her seemingly only weakness is neutralized. Perhaps such thoughts are fantastical, but she’s seen enough sci-fi movies and television shows to be terrified of being some kind of a government lab rat and being dissected and studied.

Unfortunately, however much Clara wants to advise the residents of Smallville to dispose of any meteor rocks they find, the EPA has long declared them to be safe. To argue otherwise after over a decade when nothing of note seems to have occurred will look to be more than a little suspicious. Not to mention telling them to use lead to dispose of them would undoubtedly lead to questions she can’t satisfactorily answer. Clara had actually previously considered creating a large lead box and collecting all the meteor rocks herself and then burying the box deep somewhere; unfortunately, the excruciating pain she feels near them and the sheer magnitude of meteor rock presence in Smallville have scuttled her half-formed plans. Chloe’s article has a good chance of leading to the outcome Clara hopes for, though she can’t help but fear that it will only further jeopardize her secret.

Meanwhile, unwilling to let Chloe’s disparaging comments about Jodi stand, Pete, who had been in the Torch office researching something he’d refused to let Chloe in on, looks up to shoot her a steely glare.

“Jodi wasn’t a meteor freak and she wasn’t a murderer.”

Chloe raises a skeptical eyebrow. “So what was Dustin?”

He glowers at her. “You know how much he’d tormented her-”

She refuses to be cowed. “So that makes it okay? Good to see where your priorities lie.”

“I’m saying it’s understandable,” Pete retorts, doing his best to not shout. “And it wasn’t something she could control – she kept begging me to get away from her.”

She scoffs. “Oh please! You were knocked out on the floor – how else did that happen if Jodi didn’t do it?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Only because Clara chased her away! You would’ve been dead like Dustin if not for Clara, and by the way, when she killed herself, she almost took Clara with her! And all Clara was trying to do was help her! Exactly how are those actions that of a good person, Pete?”

“Hey, leave me out of this,” Clara futilely insists.

Chloe doesn’t even look like she’s heard. “Jodi was a meteor freak who tried to murder you and Clara, and did in fact murder Dustin. No matter what revisionist history you try to peddle, Pete, she was not a saint or a decent human being in the end. So stop singing her praises, especially to someone who’d almost been another murder victim.”

Although a look of guilt flashes across his face, it’s quickly overtaken by fury. Pete storms out of the Torch office without a backward glance as Chloe returns to her newest article, not even bothering to watch him leave.

Clara’s eyes flick between the two of them in indecision. Chloe had been harsh, but she did have a point about Jodi – Clara hadn’t done anything to her yet she’d done her best to beat her to death with a shovel. Had Clara been just a normal human, she would’ve died. Pete would have died. But she can’t help but sympathize with Pete too. All Jodi had really wanted was to lose weight, and for that she’d found herself altered against her will. She’d clearly liked Pete, if the way she’d given him chances to escape is any indication, and she’d probably been the first girl who Pete had liked besides Chloe. It has to be difficult for him to have to reconcile the two disparate images of Jodi – the nice girlfriend and the murderer.

Sighing, Clara decides it’s probably best to leave them both be and instead goes to find Lana. She’s always so calm and collected, and Clara can definitely use some of that zen right about now. Lana’s thankfully not at all hard to find, especially when surrounded by more than a few people handing over belated birthday gifts and apologizing for skipping out on her birthday party.

Lana easily and readily waves those away as she accepts the gifts with a thankful smile. “Honestly, I hadn’t even wanted to be there myself. I still can’t believe Nell refused to just cancel the party.”

Clara jealously eyes the pile of gifts Lana is opening before she forcefully tears her gaze away. She looks at the crowd who are commiserating with her, and frowns. She still can’t believe Lana is being so ungrateful. Nell had no doubt spent so much time and money on the birthday party that cancelling had likely been unthinkable, even if allowing the party to go on had been in poor taste. Perhaps she could have postponed the event, but no doubt that would’ve racked up even more expenses, and really, how long of a wait would have been considered respectful? A couple of days? A week? Few weeks? Perhaps bringing up money at a time like this is crass and insensitive, but why Lana isn’t even trying to understand her aunt’s position is baffling to Clara. If she, who’s not a big fan of Nell, can make the attempt, shouldn’t her niece at least try to give her the same consideration?

Shaking her head, Clara looks at the clock on the wall and sighs with relief. This interminable day is halfway over, and she’ll soon be able to make her escape.

***

When the bell signaling the end of classes rings at last, Clara speeds home, not bothering to wait for the bus. Martha, being the best mother in the world, already has a mug of hot chocolate and a slice of warm pecan pie waiting for her.  

“Thanks mom,” she says with relief as she takes a fortifying sip.

Martha looks at her with sympathy. “How was school?”

Clara sighs. “Long. Jenna’s parents came by to see the shrine and…” She shakes her head. She hadn’t been there but she’d overheard the students gossiping about it. Mrs. Barnum had fallen apart at the sight of the shrine and had to be physically carried out of the school by her husband.

“The Kelvins are likely going to be moving out of state. Jodi’s father has already packed up his house to move to Metropolis. Maybe the Barnums will do the same.”

Clara can’t help but feel guilty and responsible, and as though she can hear her thoughts, Martha squeezes her arm comfortingly.

“Sweetheart-”

“I know,” she interjects, not wanting to hear her reassurances. She abruptly changes the subject. “Chloe and Pete got into a fight and they’ve yet to make up. I have a feeling it’ll take more than a few days before they’re all friends again.”

“Want me to bake something?”

Clara brings a forkful of pie to her lips. “Maybe? It can’t hurt.”

Martha nods. “I’ll be making strawberry shortcakes for the Beanery tomorrow. I should have enough strawberries for one more.”

“Sounds delicious.” Clara scarfs down the rest of the pie and the hot chocolate. “Thanks mom.”

With that, she heads out to make her deliveries. If she feels butterflies in her stomach at the thought of seeing Lex again, she staunchly ignores it.

***

Any hopes that Lex hasn’t noticed her crush on him disappears when Clara comes by the mansion to deliver the weekly produce. For the first time since she’s started visiting the mansion, she sees Amy, the housekeeper’s daughter, instead of Mrs. Palmer, and Amy blocks her path when she makes to go to the study.

“Lex isn’t here,” she snootily informs her. “He’s gone off to Metropolis.”

The implied to get away from you is clear from the look Amy shoots her, and Clara blanches.

It isn’t until that moment that Clara realizes Lex has never failed to be present when she swings by, and her stomach clenches in fear and mortification when she realizes what his pointed absence – without letting her know in advance – means.

Too distressed to see the gloating expression on Amy’s face, Clara hurriedly heads for the truck.

As the mansion had been the last delivery stop of the day, Clara has no other excuse to delay returning home. She could try and stop by the Beanery, but she doesn’t have any money and isn’t really in the mood to be around other people.

She tries to put on a happy face when she enters the house, but the looks her parents shoot each other make it clear they’re not fooled. Thankfully, they seem to think she is still troubled over the deaths of her fellow students and her failure to save them, and though she feels guilty for doing so, she eagerly uses that excuse to escape to the loft.

The only good thing about having definitive proof of Lex’s feelings – or lack thereof – for her is that even her subconscious understands how out of line it would be for her to fantasize about Lex when he’s made it clear her feelings aren’t returned, and so Clara’s dreams mercifully remain Lex-free. Between that and her fear that Lex may no longer wish to continue their friendship due to her one-sided crush, mean she doesn’t have another flare-up of her heat vision. She knows she has to get control over it at some point, but she is in no mood to think erotic thoughts let alone try and masturbate.

In the days that follow, for the first time, Clara eagerly listens for any gossip about Lex. She’d always eschewed such chatter for being exaggerations if not outright lies, preferring to actually talk to the man himself rather than skulk about for second- and third-hand accounts – if that – but now that she doesn’t have a convenient excuse to visit the mansion, this is the only way for her to find out if he’s back in town. It sucks because Lex has never made her feel unwelcome in his home; indeed, he has on more than one occasion invited her to drop by whenever she likes. That she’s now hesitating going over to the mansion stems from the fact that she’s no longer so confident of her welcome, and she doesn’t want to get burned again by swinging by only to be turned away once more.

At least if Lex is there, even if it’s awkward, she knows he’ll be unfailingly polite.

It isn’t until Clara keeps an eye – and ear – on Amy and her brother Jeff that she learns Lex has not only returned to Smallville but has been back for a couple of days. The news, rather than cheering her up, actually does the opposite. Although she hasn’t been by the mansion again, she has been going by the Beanery every day, sometimes even multiple times a day. That she hasn’t seen him there despite all of her efforts, and that he’s made no attempts to see her or even call the farm, means he’s purposefully avoiding her.

She doesn’t know if there’s any clearer sign that she’s lost Lex’s friendship than that.

As life more-or-less returns to normal at Smallville High, Clara’s misery only worsens. Of course, most of her fellow students don’t know – or care – enough to notice. And with Chloe and Pete still on the outs, not even speaking a word to each other despite her mother’s delicious strawberry shortcake as a bribe, her friends attribute Clara’s despondency to having to play the middleman, allowing her to go about her days without having to make up excuses or feeling like she’s under a microscope.

Her parents, of course, are another story.

It doesn’t take long before Martha and Jonathan cotton on to the fact that Clara’s unhappiness isn’t due to the deaths of the students nor over her inability to save them. They also can’t help but notice that she isn’t hanging out with Lex as she used to.

“Good,” is all Jonathan says when Martha brings it up.

“Jonathan!”

“What? I’m not sorry they’re drifting apart. I’m glad, as a matter of fact. Ecstatic.”

At the look from his wife, he sighs. “Lex is a Luthor, Martha. You know the kind of danger Clara could be in around him.”

“Jonathan,” she scolds, “Lex has only ever been a good friend to Clara. And she doesn’t exactly have many of those.”

Jonathan feels chagrined at the reminder. He and Martha are the ones responsible for that state of affairs, after all, and while they’d done it to protect her, he can’t help recalling the loneliness that had surrounded Clara until just a year earlier. Thank god for Chloe Sullivan, he thinks with relief.

“Jonathan,” Martha says slowly as a thought occurs to her, “do you think us turning down Lex’s offer of assistance affected their friendship?”

He frowns. “Not likely.”

“You don’t think we hurt his feelings?”

Jonathan snorts. “What feelings?”

Before Martha can scold him again, he waves his hand. “I know, I know, he didn’t deserve that.”

She sighs. “I don’t think he’s the type to take any offense he might have felt out on Clara, but it can’t not have impacted their friendship in some way.” Martha will feel terrible if they’re the ones who have cost Clara yet another friend.

After a few moments of silence, Jonathan finally says, “It’s most likely because Lex has finally realized he’s a billionaire who has little in common with a teenage girl from Smallville. Their friendship formed because she saved his life and he felt grateful. That gratefulness has undoubtedly worn off now and so he dropped the friendship.” If their turning down his business proposal had something to do with that, then all for the better, he can’t help but think.

Martha, however, isn’t so sure of that. She recalls the look on Lex’s face when he’d said Clara had saved his life, and all the efforts he’s gone to help Clara and them by extension. She doubts that kind of devotion is something so easily cast aside.

When she sees Clara mope about after having finished her chores for the day rather than going over to the mansion, Martha decides to step in. If their actions had resulted in this break in their friendship, she’s determined to smooth over any problems and fix it.

“You’re not going over to Lex’s?” Martha asks as nonchalantly as she can.

Clara does her best to suppress her flinch at hearing Lex’s name. Although she’s had time to come to terms with the loss of Lex’s friendship, the wound still feels fresh. The truth of the matter is, even though Lex hadn’t known about her alien origins, he’d still seemed to understand her the best out of all of her friends. The reality of that loss therefore is devastating.

Taking care to look as unbothered as possible, she shakes her head. “I have to work on my history project.”

Brows furrowed, Martha watches as Clara heads for the loft. She can’t help but wonder if there’s something more to it.

***

Martha is originally from Metropolis, having been born and raised there, but – as Clara has heard hundreds of times before – when she’d met Jonathan in finance class one day in college, that had been it. Her life in the big city had been readily – and happily – discarded, to follow the man of her dreams.

“I didn’t move to Smallville for action and glamour. I moved because a certain man told me we’d never be rich or travel the world, but he’d always love me. How could I pass up an offer like that?” she would say dreamily.

Still, Clara knows her mother misses Metropolis sometimes. She must, having been a city-girl all her life. If Clara aches to see the sophistication and glamour of the big city, then that must be at least doubly true for someone who grew up there. And she’s sure it doesn’t help that Martha’s life in Smallville hasn’t been all that easy, made more difficult by having to raise an alien daughter.

And so, for their wedding anniversary, Clara decides her parents should go to Metropolis to celebrate.

Martha and Jonathan haven’t really celebrated their anniversary beyond exchanging cards for years now due to their precarious financial situation. But with everything that’s been happening, they certainly deserve some time away from the farm. And Clara can’t help but admit that she needs some time alone too, to come to grips with the loss of Lex’s friendship and her newest power, and what it might mean for her future.

When she broaches the subject before dinner, it’s clear her parents are surprised. They exchange speaking glances, and Clara says before they can object, “I know you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. I just had a crush on someone and found out it wasn’t returned, that’s all. I’ll get over it.”

“Oh, honey.” Martha moves around the table to offer a comforting hug.

Clara allows herself to wallow for a moment in her mother’s warm embrace before pulling back. “It’s okay. Really.”

Jonathan looks like he’s torn between wanting to know the name of this crush so he can take his shotgun and teach the punk a lesson, and forbidding her from having any more crushes on boys. He clearly decides silence is the better part of valor, as beyond a look of sympathy, he remains quiet.

Before Martha can ask whom she’s crushing on, Clara gets back to the topic at hand. “But seriously, Metropolis? You guys could have a wonderful dinner at that restaurant where dad proposed, then spend the weekend in the city relaxing.”

“That does sound wonderful,” Martha admits. “But a weekend away would be too expensive.”

“Just a night away then?” she suggests. “That can’t be that expensive.”

Jonathan looks over at Martha. “We have applied for a loan. That money should be enough to get us through until the summer at least.”

“Are you sure?”

He determinedly nods. “Let’s properly celebrate our anniversary.”

Martha hesitates for only a beat before smiling and enthusiastically kissing her husband.

“Eww, mom, gross!” Clara complains, before laughing and heading off to the loft to give her parents some privacy.

***

Unfortunately for the Kents, not even a day later, the bank turns down their request for a loan. It’s not helped by the fact that the message had just been left on their answering machine where Clara could’ve heard it.

Jonathan, naturally, is furious at the bank’s carelessness, but mostly he’s devastated that there is nothing he can do. The bank has every right to refuse them a loan, after all, and despite having swallowed his pride to personally appeal to Jim Alexander, the bank’s manager, the answer had been a firm “No.”

Jonathan had hoped they might have some time until matters became truly dire, but he’s been at the books for most of the morning and the answer isn’t changing. He wishes they’d thought to wait to buy that new baking oven and additional cookware, but it had seemed like a good investment considering Martha’s growing client list – she’d added 2 convenience stores and the cafeteria at the retirement center, last he’d heard – and he’d been so sure they would be able to get that loan.

“Open your mouth,” Martha tells him, bringing over a muffin, and Jonathan readily does so, the delicious smell of baked goods having sent his stomach growling with hunger for a good 30 minutes already.

“Hey that’s perfect,” he says with as big a smile as he can muster as he swallows. “All we have to do is come up with a snappy name like Famous Amos and we’ll make a fortune.”

“Ooh,” she replies with a laugh.

“Forget Mrs. Field’s,” Clara adds as she enters the kitchen. “You can be Mrs. Kent’s.”

“I like the sound of that,” Martha says as she pulls out another muffin tin from the oven.

Clara eyes the kitchen where every square inch of space is occupied by baking trays and pans. “This is turning into a big time operation. Is there some party going on I don’t know about?”

As Martha searches for space to put down the hot muffin tin, Clara just reaches over and holds it for her. She takes the opportunity to pick off a piece of the muffin and pops it into her mouth. Her eyes widen with delight.

“This is great, mom!” she says happily, and heads over to the fridge to grab a bottle of milk.

“Thanks,” Martha says, beaming. “I’ve got a meeting with a large grocery chain – if they like what they taste, they’ll give me a shot at one of their stores, and if that goes well, I might end up with a big contract.”

“That’s great!”

When Jonathan takes too long to offer his congratulations, they turn only to see his frown.

“What’s wrong?”

With a resigned sigh, he drops his pen onto the tabletop. “I don’t see how we’re gonna pay the feed bill this month.”

As Clara freezes, eyeing her parents warily, Martha squeezes his shoulder even as she lets out a tired sigh of her own. “I could go by Langham’s Store and maybe we can get an extension on our credit.”

“We’re already 3 months behind, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Well, Andy’s a friend. I’m sure he’ll understand,” she says optimistically.

Jonathan admits, “I’ve already asked. He said no.” There are times when he hates how fast news travels in a small town like theirs – had Andy not heard about him being turned down for a bank loan, he doesn’t doubt he would’ve agreed to extend his credit.

Martha eyes the baked goods that litter the kitchen. “Even if the managers say yes, it’ll be weeks if not months until I earn enough money to make a difference. So what are we gonna do?”

Jonathan brings up his coffee mug to his lips to buy himself some time.

It doesn’t help.

“I don’t know. We don’t have a whole lot of options here.”

Martha considers bringing up Lex’s offer, but considering the distance between he and Clara over her unrequited crush on him – and how Jonathan hasn’t cottoned onto that, she has no idea, but she has no intention of informing her husband – she doesn’t know if he’d still be interested, or even if he is, if the offer would remain on the same terms. Considering their desperation, Lex may very well decide to make the terms far more favorable for him and more punishing for them, and while he doesn’t seem to be the vindictive type, he is a businessman and a Luthor.

In the end, she goes for the one option that may hurt Jonathan’s pride the most but which she knows for certain will be their saving grace. She sits next to him and says, “There is one call we can make.”

When he looks over at her, she says calmly, “Maybe we should talk to my father.”

Jonathan shakes his head and gets up from the table, irritation clear in every movement. Martha sighs in annoyance and only just stops herself from rolling her eyes at his reaction.

Clara, who had remained silent thus far to prevent being sent out of the kitchen, narrows her eyes. “Why is it whenever anyone mentions granddad, suddenly everyone becomes quiet and uncomfortable? Don’t you think it’s weird I’ve never even met the man?”

Jonathan’s back hunches over the sink. “Look, Clara. I’m- I’m sorry that you haven’t been able to have a relationship with your grandpa, I really am. There’s just too much bad blood.” Barely able to meet her gaze, he heads for the screen door. “I’m sorry, but I- I got work to do.”

Martha’s lips are tight as she watches him leave the kitchen.

***

To the surprise of everyone who knows them, Chloe and Pete are still not talking to each other. It’s the longest they’ve ever fought, and while at first Clara had been taking advantage of their strained friendship to mourn for the loss of hers with Lex, she misses them and hates that she’s being put in the middle.  

When Pete still refuses to even enter the Torch office, Clara enlists Lana’s help to wrangle him in. Like all the other guys in Smallville, Pete can’t refuse Lana or resist and risk possibly hurting her. Clara could’ve easily dragged him in herself, of course, but that would’ve given away her strength.

If Chloe is surprised by Pete’s presence – even if clearly unwilling – she doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Check it out,” she says simply when they enter, holding up that day’s issue of The Torch in presentation. The headline reads ‘Smallville: Mutant Capital of the World.’

“Mutant?” Clara asks.

Chloe shrugs nonchalantly. “Freak was too incendiary to put into the title.”

Considering Chloe loves anything incendiary, Clara knows she did this for Pete. As Clara pretends to buy that excuse, she sneaks a look at him and sees that his body seems less tense than it had been moments earlier. When Lana reaches for the paper in question, despite being now freed, Pete remains in the room, though he still doesn’t look at the paper or at Chloe. In fact, he even deigns to head over to a neighboring desk to actually sit down.

Clara’s lips twitch into a smile and she looks over at Lana to glory in their success when Principal Kwan storms into the office.

“Sullivan.” He holds up the paper Chloe had just been displaying. “Is this your idea of a joke? Concerned parents have been calling all morning.”

Chloe perks up. “Well, what have you been telling them?”

“What the EPA and other environmental groups said years ago – the meteor rocks are harmless.”

“People have a right to know about the strange things that happen in this town!” she argues.

“The Torch is a school paper. It’s not your own personal tabloid,” he says chastisingly.

Chloe balks. “Are you censoring me?”

“I’m requiring you to do your job, which is report on relevant school events: Sports. Dances. Clubs. I’m relieving you of your duties.”

After that bombshell, he looks at the rest of them and says, “The Torch is suspended until I can appoint a new editor.”

Tossing the paper onto the desk, Principal Kwan leaves. Chloe turns to them looking completely shocked. “Okay, what just happened?”

“I think you were fired,” Pete says.

Chloe’s eyes narrow hearing the glee in his tone.

Clara stands and gets between them, hoping to stop the fighting before it can start. “Chloe, I’m sure there’s something we can do,” she says consolingly.

“Let me talk to Kwan,” Lana chimes in.

“Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what do you think you can do?” Chloe asks skeptically.

“I don’t know, but let me give it a shot,” Lana offers, before hurrying after Principal Kwan.

Chloe looks away, the unease in the pit of her stomach only growing.

***

The argument between Martha and Jonathan once Clara leaves for school isn’t so much an argument as it is Martha forcing her husband to acknowledge that they don’t exactly have other options. Jonathan supposes he should be grateful she isn’t rubbing turning down Lex’s offer in his face, as she’d been all for accepting it and only his insistence otherwise had her agreeing to apply for another bank loan instead. That he now has to think about his father-in-law, the very man who had summarily informed him he isn’t good enough for Martha – and indeed, Jonathan is chagrined to note, is clearly being proven right all these years later – is probably just desserts, he thinks.

Still, Jonathan refuses to give in. There has to be another option than begging William Clark for scraps. He storms out of the house and drives the truck to Granville, knowing if he stays at the farm that Martha will only follow him around, trying to talk him around to her way of thinking, and he needs space and time to calm down. It’s cowardly of him, perhaps, but he tells himself he genuinely does have business that needs to be done in Granville.

Martha, however, refuses to sit idly by and watch as her husband’s stubborn pride takes away their home. She makes the call – rather relieved when she gets her father’s voicemail – and asks him for financial assistance. She acknowledges that it’s a rather short notice, and so asks for a call back for a time when he’ll be available. After all, while her father has retired to Coast City, he still might not be able to come right away, and even if he can, he may opt not to. Still, a call had to be made, and best it happen now when Jonathan and Clara are away from the farm.

As the hours pass and Martha doesn’t hear back from her father, however, she starts to worry that he may call when Jonathan is home, or even worse, that he may even answer the phone, ruining any possible assistance from her father due to their differing temperaments. Fidgeting with nervousness, she almost hopes her father has yet to get her message. Just as she’s about to call him again, a strange car pulls up to the house. Her eyes widen with shock as she realizes it’s her father behind the wheel of the Lincoln – in order for him to be here now, he had to have caught the first flight out. Despite his retirement, she doesn’t doubt he has a full schedule, and she feels rather teary-eyed that he’s dropped everything to come help at her call for assistance.

Sniffling and giving her eyes a quick wipe with a kitchen towel, Martha heads outside. To her surprise, her father looks old, his shock of white hair having receded slightly and his face lined with wrinkles. Admittedly it’s been 20 years since she’s last seen him, but she’d thought of William Clark as an ageless figure, looking forever disappointed with her and her choices. Seeing him dressed in a sharp suit and tie, his form of armor, is almost a relief, though she wouldn’t be shocked if he actually is still practicing law rather than enjoying retirement.

“Hi, dad,” she greets with a tremulous smile. “I appreciate you making the trip.”

They share a loose hug, and it’s far too awkward. Martha hurriedly pulls away.

“I was surprised to get your message. Must’ve taken a lot for Jonathan to ask for my help.”

She confesses, “Jonathan is at the co-op in Granville. He doesn’t know I called.”

Eyebrows ticking up, he says, “Oh. I should’ve known.” If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it.

William carefully examines the farm and the yellow farmhouse. The house is surprisingly large and the land around it is well maintained. Considering he’d been expecting a hovel, the place is a pleasant surprise.

“Well, I imagined this place differently,” he admits. “But it’s not the life I wanted for you, Martha.”

Doing her best to stifle her exasperation, Martha turns and makes her way to the house. “I’m happy, dad. It’s a good life.”

“For some people, maybe,” he says as he follows, clearly unwilling to let it go. “But you had so much potential.”

Knowing he can’t see her, she rolls her eyes at the familiar spiel.

“Top ten in your class, you could have gone to any law school you wanted. I had hoped that one day you’d take over my practice.”

She turns to him as they climb up the stairs. “I never wanted to be a lawyer,” she says exasperatedly. “This is the life I chose!”

“This is a life Jonathan chose for you. You just went along for the ride,” he continues doggedly.

“This isn’t about Jonathan!” she retorts in frustration. “You raised an independent daughter and you’re angry because that’s what you got.”

“And here you are 20 years later going behind your husband’s back asking me for money.”

Just then, Clara comes into view. “Mom?”

Martha resists the urge to scream in frustration. “Clara. You’re here early.”

Clara hurriedly joins them on the porch. “There was an issue with The Torch. We’re working it out.”

Seeing her father take in Clara’s hand-me-down outfit – one that’s clearly meant for a man rather than a teenage girl – and the threadbare backpack she’s holding in her hand, Martha inwardly winces. Clara at least doesn’t appear to feel self conscious as she looks back and forth between them with a polite expression on her face.

Martha swallows a sigh and makes the introductions.

“Clara, this is your grandfather.”

Clara’s eyes light up. William looks taken aback at seeing the delighted smile on her face, and while she doesn’t hug him – though Martha can tell she dearly wants to – her entire being radiates with enough happiness that she doubts even her father is immune to her enthusiasm.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. Is it okay if I call you granddad? Or would you prefer grandpa? Or grandfather? I know you don’t know me, but I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!”

To Martha’s complete surprise, her father’s expression softens at hearing Clara’s verbal diarrhea, and something almost… awed appears on his face. “Hello, Clara.”

Shooting Martha a happy smile, she turns back to her grandfather. For years she’s wanted to meet him, and here he is, standing in front of her and looking rather pleased to see her. She has so many questions to ask him, so many things she wants to know, that she actually has trouble getting the words out, not sure of what to say first.

Unwilling to look like a bumbling idiot in front of her grandfather, Clara decides to start with something simple.

“What’s it like, living in Coast City? Is the beach beautiful? I’ve never seen the ocean-” Clara pulls up short, suddenly realizing they’re just standing around on the porch in November. “Won’t you come in?”

William’s face flickers with indecision before he pulls back slightly. “Thank you, Clara, but I’d best be going. Martha, I’ll, uh, I’ll be at the motel. I’ll have a cashier’s check drawn tomorrow morning.”

Clara’s face falls, especially when her mother doesn’t protest. “Why don’t you stay with us? We have plenty of room.”

He stops and turns to face her. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea, Clara.”

Considering Jonathan’s reaction that morning, she figures he might have a point. “How- how about dinner? One meal as a family.”

Even as Martha shakes her head, knowing the futility, he apologetically declines. “I’m sorry.”

William stares at Martha for a beat, and when she doesn’t say a word, he leaves. Rather than watching him go, she hurries inside before he’s even down the stairs. Clara stares after her mother in frustration before turning to watch as her grandfather walks to his car and drives away.

***

“Clara?”

She looks up from her hammock, surprised to see Lana standing at the foot of the stairs. “Lana! What are you doing here?”

She sighs. “I failed to get a meeting with Principal Kwan, but I’m going to stalk his office tomorrow. Maybe he’ll agree to meet with me then.”

“Good luck,” Clara offers. “Maybe I should join you? I did help save his life that one time.”

Lana smiles at that before shaking her head. “He knows Chloe is your best friend. He’ll probably think anything you say is biased.”

Clara nods, knowing she has a point. When Lana doesn’t appear to be willing to say anything else – nor head back home – she brings up something she’s been dying to share with someone. “I saw my grandfather today.”

Lana’s eyes widen. “I’ve never heard you mention him before.”

“I’d never actually met him before.” She scoots over a little so Lana can sit next to her.

“Do you know anything about him?”

Clara shrugs. “Just that he was a big corporate lawyer in Metropolis before he retired to Coast City. When I was in 5^th grade, I finally worked up the nerve to call him and left a message, but he never called me back. I thought he wasn’t interested.”

She remembers the softened look in his eyes as he’d stared at her and thinks it hadn’t been disinterest – or at least that hadn’t been the only reason for the distance.

“All these years, I’ve had this image of the Kents as the perfect family.”

Her lips quirk into facsimile of a smile. “I guess we’re just as dysfunctional as everyone else.” She sighs. “I never did pressure my parents for the whole story.”

“Maybe you didn’t want to know.”

“Maybe.” Clara remembers feeling like there had been something wrong with her, like her grandfather hadn’t approved of her parents adopting her rather than having a biological child of their own. And then shortly thereafter, she’d discovered her alien origins and everything else had fallen by the wayside. “Maybe it’d been easier to live with the image than the truth.” She bites her lip before determinedly standing up. “But he’s here now. It’s my chance to find out.”

“Good luck,” Lana tells her before she makes her way out of the loft.

***

When Jonathan finds out that William Clark is in town at Martha’s invitation, he takes in a deep breath before looking away, unable to keep looking at his wife. He instead focuses on the tractor that he needs to fix and sell to pay the feed bill.

“If you want to talk to your father, that’s fine. I just don’t want him having anything to do with our finances.”

“Jonathan, what was I supposed to do? Wait until the bank foreclosed on the farm?” she argues, desperation tingeing her voice.

He refuses to look at Martha, unable to stomach seeing the undoubtedly distressed and disappointed expression on her face. “I just wish you had said something to me about it first.”

Clara interjects. “Dad, what’s the harm in just hearing him out?”

“Honey, you don’t have to be the mediator here. Believe me, I wish things could be different.” Tightening the bulb, he signals Clara to turn on the light.

She shoots him a mulish look even as she does as bid. “Well, why can’t they be? You always told me to look for the best in people. Maybe he’s put whatever it is you’re both holding against each other behind him.”

“I seriously doubt that, Clara.”

With the lights now fixed, Jonathan turns to walk away. Her question forces him to stop.

“What happened that was so bad? I mean, it can’t be any worse than what’s in the storm cellar.”

When neither of her parents say anything to her quip, she straightens up and hesitantly asks, “Can it?”

Martha and Jonathan exchange furtive glances.

“When your mother and I decided to get married, I went down to his office to ask him for her hand,” he starts.

“What’d he say?”

“I remember his exact words. I will not let my daughter throw her life away by marrying some hick farmer that couldn’t possibly support her.” Jonathan snorts. “Turns out he was right after all.”

“Jonathan-”

He shakes his head, stopping his wife from trying to placate him.

Clara chews on her lip. “That’s harsh.”

“He was a corporate lawyer. That’s the way he dealt with people,” Martha tries to defend.

“When he realized that we were serious about getting married, he… he lost it. He tried to shove me out of his office.”

Dread coiling in her stomach, Clara reluctantly asks, “What happened?”

Jonathan looks over at Martha before eventually confessing, “I hit him.”

It’s the last thing Clara had expected to hear, and her eyes widen with shock. When she looks over at her mother, she refuses to meet her gaze.

“I’m not proud of that,” Jonathan tells her. “I tried to apologize to him but he wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Your grandfather and I haven’t said a word to each other since.”

Clara frowns. “But that was 20 years ago. He was willing to come all the way out here. Maybe he wants to try again.”

He snorts. “Believe me, Clara, he’s not here to help. He’s here to gloat.”

Clara shakes her head, unable to believe her father could be so judgmental, and to family at that. Clearly it isn’t just the name Luthor that brings that out of him.

Well, if he won’t be the bigger man, then she’ll just have to play hardball.

***

While Clara’s thoughts had been understandably preoccupied with the strife between her grandfather and her parents and possible ways that she could work out a détente between them, that doesn’t mean she has completely forgotten about Chloe and her suspension from being the editor of The Torch. Clara doesn’t really care about the school paper, but it’s Chloe’s baby, and she doesn’t doubt that without being able to work on the paper, Chloe will fall apart. Not to mention that she’s planning on applying for that summer internship at the Daily Planet – if she isn’t reinstated, her chances for getting it probably won’t be that great.

Clara wonders if Lana has been able to talk Principal Kwan around, and if she’s failed, if there’s any way Clara herself may be able to convince him.

As soon as Chloe sees her, she practically sprints over. “Hey, have you heard anything about Lana’s meeting with Kwan?”

Clara slings her arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll work out,” she tries to say as reassuringly as possible.

Just as they enter the Torch office, Lana appears behind them as if on cue. “Hey.”

“So how’d it go?” Clara asks.

Lana looks at the two of them, and it’s clear that she has news. “Well, it’s interesting.”

Chloe looks determinedly at Lana. “Bottom line it. When can we send out the next issue?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

Clara cheers as Chloe smiles in excitement and relief. “Great!”

Lana interrupts their celebration, still looking uncertain. She braces herself as she says, “Except, uh… um… Kwan made me the new editor.”

Chloe freezes before she furrows her brow and shakes her head.

“Okay uh, rewind. I need you to say that last part again.”

Lana clenches her hands. “After I made my case, Kwan said if I had that much passion, I should be in charge.”

Chloe looks at her incredulously. “I don’t believe this!”

“Chloe, it’s the only way he’d reopen the paper,” Lana tries to explain.

Chloe steps forward until she’s only inches away from Lana. Her eyes appear bright, though no tears fall.

“So what, cheerleading’s not enough? Maybe the editor of the school newspaper looks better on a college application.”

“Chloe, that’s not fair,” Clara interjects, even as Lana says, “That isn’t it. I just figured you could ghost-write until we got you reinstated-”

“Okay, so then I would work for you?” Chloe interrupts, clearly displeased at that prospect.

“The paper would still be yours,” Lana insists.

“Wait, wait.” Clara gets in between the two of them. “Chloe, think about it. It’s not a bad idea.”

Chloe laughs though it’s not a pleasant sound. “It figures you’d side with your new BFF.”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side-” Clara starts to argue.

“Yeah right, Clara. You’re completely objective in all things Lana,” she bites out.

Clara is taken aback. All she’d been trying to do is help, but clearly Chloe isn’t in the mood to hear it. She takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna go.”

Chloe grabs her bag. “No, please Clara, stay! Take my desk!”

“Chloe, this isn’t what you think,” Lana tries again.

The blonde turns to her. “You know what the weirdest part is? For a millisecond I almost thought you were my friend.”

Chloe then stalks off, leaving Lana to look after her in defeat.

***

Despite the combined efforts of Clara and Lana, Chloe refuses to listen. In fact, her retorts become so cutting that Clara gives up, unwilling to subject herself to being so insulted by someone who’s supposed to be her best friend. She’d thought Chloe had gotten over holding their friendship hostage when she doesn’t get her way, but that’s clearly not the case. While Clara understands that Chloe is hurting and lashing out, she refuses to be a doormat.

Frustrated and angry, Clara decides to put her focus back on reconciling her family. Unfortunately, her luck there isn’t any better. Despite her best efforts, her mother refuses to speak to her grandfather, clearly having given up.

Clara tries again. “Mom-”

“Not now, honey,” she says, not looking up from where she’s roughly kneading the dough.

Huffing out a breath, Clara speeds upstairs. Sneaking into her parents’ room, she quietly starts to rifle through the nightstand for the address book. She refuses to feel guilty and reminds herself that it’s for a good cause.

Memorizing her grandfather’s cell phone number, Clara puts everything back the way it was before tiptoeing across the hall to her room.

She barely waits for the greeting before she speaks quietly into the handset. “Granddad?”

It surprises Clara that out of everyone in her family – which, admittedly, only consists of 4 people – it is her estranged grandfather who seems open and willing to try again.

“Thanks, granddad. See you soon,” she says, before hanging up the phone. She sighs with relief.

Double-checking to make sure her mother remains ignorant of what had just happened, she zips outside to get her chores completed. She keeps an ear out for the sound of cars, and finds herself relieved when she hears her grandfather pulling up before her father’s back.

“Thanks for coming, granddad,” she greets with a smile.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Clara,” he warns.

Picking up the familiar sound of the family pickup truck, she ushers him into the barn before he’s spotted. She forces herself to stand still, and pastes a smile on her face when Jonathan drives up to the barn.

“Hey dad, you got a minute?” she asks as he goes to unload the cargo bed.

“Yeah, you just gotta talk to me while we’re working. We’ve got a lot to do before it gets dark.”

As Jonathan slings one of the feed bags over his shoulder and starts to walk towards the barn, Clara says, “There’s someone I want you to see.”

Jonathan puts the bag down onto the ground at that. Seeing William stepping outside, he stops in his tracks.

“Your mother put you up to this?”

“No, this was all my idea,” she answers, as her gaze darts between the two men who are coolly eyeing each other.

“Don’t blame Clara. Whatever problems we have, they’re between us. Martha says you need help. I’m here to give it.”

Clara looks over at her father hopefully. Unfortunately, she soon finds herself becoming disappointed.

“So I haven’t seen you for 20 years, and all of a sudden you want to be a part of this family.”

William’s jaw tilts up. “I don’t want anything from you. I brought a check because I won’t stand by and watch my daughter suffer.”

“You just couldn’t resist turning that old knife, could you?”

“Dad!” she interjects. “Give him a chance. You two can work this out.”

“I don’t think so, Clara. See, it’s just like 20 years ago, same argument, same attitude.”

William’s gaze turns piercing. “Not quite, Jonathan. It has been 20 years, but everything I’ve predicted has come true. I knew Martha was making the biggest mistake of her life when she married you.”

As Jonathan flinches, Clara turns to William. “That’s not true, granddad.”

“Look at what you’re wearing, Clara, and these chores that he expects you to do for hours every day. Wouldn’t you rather wear clothes that fit you and hang out with your friends at that coffee shop in town, like all the other teenagers?”

When Clara doesn’t – can’t – deny it, he turns back to Jonathan. “You’re going to have to swallow your pride if you’re going to save this farm, Jonathan.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you on how to take care of my family, thank you,” he bites out. He forcibly ignores the small voice in his head telling him his father-in-law has a point and that he clearly doesn’t know how to take care of his family.

William shakes his head. “You’re just as stubborn and pigheaded as you were the day I met you.”

“You get off my land,” Jonathan orders.

“Gladly.”

“Granddad, wait!” Clara calls out.

Jonathan puts a restraining hand on her arm before she can chase after him. “Just let him go, Clara. I know you had good intentions, but some things just can’t change.”

She jerks her arm free. The look in her eyes makes him feel small.

“Because you refuse to. Yeah, he shouldn’t have said that about you and mom’s marriage, and he’s wrong about that, but he’s here to help, and he’s family. Why can’t you just swallow your goddamn pride and accept his help? Is your pride really worth us losing the farm? Our home?”

When she runs off, Jonathan can only stare after her with mounting feeling of guilt.

***

It doesn’t take Clara long to find out where her grandfather is staying. Smallville isn’t that big, after all, and it’s not like they get a ton of tourists. They’re frankly lucky that there’s even a motel in the outskirts of town.

As she knocks on the door of room 107, she swallows roughly and tells herself that she needn’t be nervous.

When the door opens and her grandfather looks surprised to see her – surprised but not angry or hurt or disappointed – the tightness in her chest eases.

“Clara.”

“I don’t want our relationship to end before it ever had a chance to begin.”

William’s lips twitch. “Well, you can come in if you want. But you’ll have to excuse me, I’m running a little late.”

Seeing the opened and half-packed suitcase on the bed, Clara hurriedly enters the room and closes the door behind her.

“There’s something I wanted to show you.” She offers him a large, worn book that she’d fetched before making her way over. “It’s the album my parents started after they adopted me. It has photos of me, of us as a family, doing stuff together, and my milestones and report cards and…”

William takes out his glasses from his shirt pocket and puts it on before rifling through the pages. He pauses at a photo of Clara as a toddler, covered in flour, “helping” her mother bake. He smiles at the photo next to it where Clara is sitting on the floor, focused intently on the book in her lap, with a pile of children’s books stacked neatly beside her.

“I wanted you to see our family the way I do. We’re more than old arguments and overdue bills.”

Hearing the knock on the door, Clara turns around. A quick use of x-ray vision shows her Martha standing behind it, looking discomfited. Clara isn’t sure if she’s here to smooth over the ruffled feathers or because of Clara’s accusation to Jonathan, but supposes it doesn’t matter.

“Mom.”

William shuts the album closed as Martha enters the motel room.

“Hi dad.”

He takes an envelope out of his briefcase. “You can have this. It’s a cashier’s check.”

“Thanks dad,” she tells him, her voice sounding choked up.

“I have two conditions,” he states firmly, clearly unmoved by the show of emotion from his daughter. “I expect the money to go to Clara’s care first before it gets used to save Jonathan’s sinking farm.”

Martha opens her mouth as if to argue against that, before she closes it with a snap. “You said two conditions.”

“I want Clara to come stay with me during the summers until she turns 18.”

“In Coast City?” Despite the tension in the room, Clara can’t help but sound enthusiastic at the prospect. She’s never flown in a plane before, and while she’s terrified of heights, she thinks it might be worth it to actually get to see the ocean.

William shoots her an indulgent smile before turning back to Martha and arching an eyebrow. She grimaces, wondering just how they’re going to be able to replace Clara’s help around the farm.

As though sensing the reason for her hesitation, he adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll happily provide the money to cover the hiring of farmhands for the summer months. I’ll also buy the flight tickets and cover any costs that may arise during her trip. The stay in a big city will be good for Clara, I expect. She’s clearly intelligent, and I want to nurture that so she has a future beyond working at that dead-end farm for the rest of her life.”

Clara frowns. As glad as she is of her grandfather’s proposal, she doesn’t like the way he talks about their home.

“The farm is my home, granddad. And I’m happy here.”

His face softens when he looks at her. “I know. It’s the only reason why I’m offering my financial assistance.”

At that, Clara hesitates. “It sounds like it’ll be a lot of money. I don’t need that much, granddad. This is more than enough.”

“You’re my granddaughter, Clara,” William tells her. “It is my job as your grandfather to spoil you as you deserve. And it is what your grandmother would’ve wanted for you.”

Clara can’t – doesn’t want to, really – argue with that.

“Thanks, granddad,” she says, before launching herself across the room to hug him.

She’s delighted to feel his arms tighten around her.

“You remind me so much of your grandmother. She was ambitious and smart, and so kind and generous. She would have adored you.”

William pulls back and gathers himself. He hands over the envelope to Martha. “Do we have a deal?”

Her lips tight, Martha nods firmly. Clara hesitates, suddenly wondering if she’s hurting her mother by fostering a warm relationship with her grandfather. She supposes her mother probably isn’t happy that her parenting is being dictated to, but considering he’s just asking for her to spend summer months with him, it doesn’t seem unreasonable. After all, plenty of other kids go visit their family during the summer, and despite the rift, he is family.

“I’ll make sure this gets returned to you safely,” William says as he gently packs the album into his suitcase.

Martha’s gaze warms as she sees the book. She smiles at Clara, and though there’s something heart-wrenching in her expression, she takes comfort in that smile.

“We’ll leave you to your packing, dad,” she says. When Clara doesn’t follow her, Martha turns back around. “Clara?”

“I’m going to stick around for a bit until granddad’s ready to leave. If that’s okay with you,” she asks her grandfather.

At his nod, Clara sits down on the only chair in the room. “I’ll see you back at the farm, mom.”

Seeing that her father truly doesn’t mind, Martha says farewell to her father and shuts the door behind her.

***

It would be better if Jonathan is furious with her, but to Martha’s consternation, he’s quiet.

“Jonathan, I know I made this decision without consulting you, and you have every right to be angry-”

He shakes his head and brings the can of beer up to his lips. “He’s right, I am a failure.”

“Jonathan…”

“We’ve never been able to give Clara all the things that other kids her age got to have, and even with my best efforts the farm is still in debt. Maybe I should at last man up and do the right thing and sell the farm so that I can provide a better life for you and Clara.”

“Jonathan, no!” Martha exclaims. “The Kent Farm is the oldest farm in Lowell County. It’s been in your family for generations!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve always known that I’d be the last Kent to manage the farm. You and I both know Clara’s future lies somewhere beyond Smallville. The end is just… sooner than I’d thought it would be, that’s all.”

“Maybe, but this is still a wonderful and amazing home for Clara – and for me,” Martha says, grasping his hands in her own and forcing him to meet her gaze. “All the money in the world means nothing without love, Jonathan, and Clara has grown up in a house full of love. And one day, this great and wonderful house full of love will be there for our grandchildren, for them to come visit and run around and bask in all the love that we can give them.”

Jonathan closes his eyes and takes comfort in Martha’s embrace and the picture she paints of the future.

The clatter of Clara’s steps on the stairs has them separating. She looks at them with a hesitant smile on her face, and only when Jonathan and Martha pull her into a hug does she relax.

“Granddad left, but before he did, he told me he tried to get involved in my life after the adoption. Why wouldn’t you let him see me?”

Clara can’t help but sound betrayed. She’d thought for years that there had been something wrong with her, that that had been why her grandfather had refused to have any sort of relationship with her. To find out he had actually been interested in her and had reached out, only to find himself rebuffed…  

She wants an explanation. She thinks she deserves one, in fact.    

“Well, it’s complicated,” Jonathan says, despite knowing she won’t let it rest at that but saying it anyway.

“It can’t be that complicated, he’s my grandfather.”

He and Martha exchange a speaking glance before Jonathan reluctantly explains. “Clara, when you were a little girl, you couldn’t control your abilities like you can now. And if he had spent any time with us, he might have found out your secret.”

Clara’s brows furrow. “But he’s family.”

“We had such a history of disagreeing on things,” Martha says. “We just didn’t know how he’d react. We couldn’t be sure we could trust him.”

She pulls back from them. “So he wasn’t a part of our lives because of me?”

“Not just you,” Martha reassures her.

Clara is silent as she takes that in. She guesses she’d been right after all – she hadn’t had a relationship with her grandfather because there had been something wrong with her. Shaking her head, she reminds them, “But… I’ll be spending time with him during the summers.”

Martha and Jonathan exchange another speaking glance, before Jonathan warns, “Sweetheart, you’ll need to be extremely careful that you don’t betray your abilities to him.”

“He’s family,” she finds herself repeating. It’s one thing keeping it a secret from friends; it’s another matter entirely to hide it from her own grandfather.

Neither Martha nor Jonathan appears moved by that argument.

Seeing that, Clara wonders if her parents are right and her grandfather won’t take the truth well. She had been worried that he wouldn’t accept her because she’d been adopted rather than being a blood relation; how would he react if he finds out she’s not even human? She suddenly can’t help but fear that the softness in his eyes when he looks at her will turn to one of horror instead.

“I’ll be careful,” Clara reluctantly agrees.

***

With an actual shopping trip to Granville scheduled for after school, Clara is practically ebullient when she enters Smallville High. Although she’d have preferred to go shopping in Metropolis, Granville is not only closer but cheaper as well, and she’ll definitely be able to get more bang for her buck there.

Maybe she’ll be able to convince her parents to take her to Metropolis some other time. She’d still love to see that museum exhibit, and they can’t argue it isn’t educational.

Her buoyed spirit doesn’t last long. She’s barely entered the school when Chloe, on seeing her, pointedly ignores her and walks off in the other direction. Mood dimming, Clara sees Pete and heads over to him to vent.

“That sucks,” is all Pete says when Clara finishes.

“That’s it? Chloe won’t even look at me let alone listen to anything I have to say,” she huffs out. As frustrated as she is with the blonde, she’s hurt too. Chloe’s claim that Clara favors Lana whenever they have an argument is getting old, especially because it isn’t true. It feels like Chloe is only happy if she’s the only friend Clara has, and that’s not fair.

“What do you want me to do about it? She isn’t going to listen to me either, even if everything between us was okay.”

Clara leans against the locker beside Pete’s. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs, not looking over at her. “It is what it is.”

She squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

He shoots her a smile that falls short of the usual Ross grin. “You don’t have to. I’m not expecting you to side with the girl who tried to kill you.”

She’s surprised at his acknowledgment considering he’d spent the better part of a week trying to joke away Jodi’s actions. “Good, because I’m not. I’m being there for my friend.”

Pete nods, and something grateful enters his expression. He pats her on the arm before slamming his locker shut. His gaze stutters when he turns around, and when Clara looks in the same direction, she’s surprised to see Chloe watching them. The blonde hurriedly looks away when she’s caught before once more determinedly striding off. Feeling decidedly pissed, Clara decides to go find Lana and hang out with her instead.

“I’ll see you in class, Pete.”

He arches an eyebrow but shrugs. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Since she’s been named the new editor, Clara’s not surprised to find Lana in the Torch office. Seeing her unsuccessfully trying to fix the printer, however, is something of a comical sight.

“How’s it going?”

Lana exhales, exhaustion apparent. “To be honest, I’m in way over my head. All I wanted to do is help Chloe out and now I feel like I’ve completely screwed up everything.”

Clara examines the printer to see what’s wrong with it. She removes the jammed paper and opens the paper tray to make sure everything’s laying flat and there’s plenty of paper in there before closing it back up.

“There.”

She shoots her a wry smile. “Thanks. Now if you can do that to all of my problems, then maybe we’ll be able to get the next issue out after all.”

“I don’t know about that, but I can definitely try to help. I might not have been the editor but I’ve helped Chloe put an issue or two together back in my day.”

Lana looks like she just got handed a lifeline. “Thanks Clara.”

***

Martha can’t help but take vindictive pleasure at the way Jim’s eyes widen with surprise seeing the cashier’s check. She tries to chastise herself for it, but gives it up as futile when she recalls the message he’d unceremoniously left on their answering machine.

Although she’d agreed when her father had demanded the money go to Clara’s care first, they’d discussed the matter as a family the night before and had instead decided that, while Clara will get a couple of new things – and maybe even more depending on how good the sales are – the money will actually be used to keep the farm afloat, with the rest to be saved for a rainy day. While Martha doesn’t doubt Clara had been disappointed by that decision, she’d been too happy to be getting more than one new and fitted clothing item to argue. Martha can’t deny she feels somewhat guilty over going back on her word and depriving Clara, but summer isn’t that far away and she knows the spending money her father will give Clara will be more than generous.

The true concern now is just how they’ll be paying her father back, for she and Jonathan fully intend to do so if only to sever his ties to Clara. They don’t doubt Clara will fight tooth and nail to maintain her relationship with her grandfather, but Martha has grown up with William Clark’s expectations and the consequences of failing to meet them, and that’s not something she wants her daughter to ever experience. She doubts he intends to force her to become a lawyer, but she doesn’t ever want Clara to feel obligated to do something just because she feels like she owes her grandfather. Besides, she and Jonathan can’t help but fear that Clara will reveal her powers to her grandfather despite promising to be careful, not because she’ll do so on purpose but because mistakes and accidents can happen. And they can’t help but fear her father won’t take the revelations of his granddaughter’s alien origins well.    

To Martha’s surprise, Clara arrives home almost too late for them to make the trip to Granville. As it is, they’ll be lucky to even get half an hour at the mall.

“You’re home late, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

Clara sighs. “Chloe’s been suspended as the editor of The Torch, and when Lana went to Principal Kwan to argue against that decision, she got awarded the position instead. I’ve been helping her put the issue to bed.”

Martha’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “How’s Chloe?”

“Not great. She’s not talking to me.”

“She’ll come around, honey,” she reassures her.

Clara smiles back tiredly before she seems to realize just why she’d needed to worry about the time. Her eyes dart to the nearest clock.

“We can still make it, can’t we?”

“We can,” Martha says. “But don’t you want to eat first? Or do you have homework? What about-”

“Mom!”

Despite being a weekday evening near the closing hour, the mall in Granville still has quite a few people shopping and browsing. Clara’s eyes are wide as she takes in the stores and vendors and the food court, and while Martha hates to rush her, they don’t really have that much time.

“Sweetheart, we’ll come back here another time,” she promises her.

Although clearly disappointed, Clara determinedly nods and allows Martha to lead her to the nearest department store. They luck out and see a clearance sign on the window indicating select items being 70% off.  

For the first time in her life, Clara actually gets to try on different outfits and figure out what she likes and what looks good on her. Having always worn hand-me-downs – Martha’s when she’d been younger and could still fit into them then Jonathan’s as she grew too tall for anything else – she’s never had a choice in color or style or fabric. She’s always worn what she had to without complaints because there hadn’t been anything else. But since that’s no longer the case, the choices seem almost endless, and Clara can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

And Martha can’t help the guilt that churns in her gut knowing that she’s deprived her only child so much that buying clothes is essentially a foreign experience.

Determinedly holding back her tears, Martha reaches for a simple light blue V-neck tee that’s part of the sale and holds it up against her daughter’s chest.

“What do you think?”

It’s as though the dam breaks. Clara darts over to the sales section and starts to rifle through them, and picks out items that catch her eye, though she also checks the price tag and puts back several items that she deems to be above her price range.

Martha notes those that Clara seems to particularly linger over, and surreptitiously grabs them for her to try on regardless of the price. If it’s too expensive for them to buy now, it could still make a great Christmas present from herself and Jonathan.

In the end, they end up with over a dozen tops – including a new jacket and 2 fitted sweaters – and 3 pairs of jeans as well as a new backpack for Clara. While she had been drawn to pinks at first, her picks have all ended up in shades of blue and red, with occasional yellow thrown in for variety.

It doesn’t surprise Martha that, once proper sizing is found, that Clara looks great in them all – and that has nothing to do with her bias as her mother. Clara is a beautiful girl, and now that she’s wearing something that actually fits her, Martha can’t deny that her daughter is growing up. She musingly wonders how Jonathan will react to all the boys that will soon be flocking to their door, and swallows a laugh.

As Clara heads towards the cashier, Martha quietly gets another store clerk to set aside the blouse and skirt combo that Clara had adored but left behind as impractical and too expensive. She’s certain Clara will love receiving them for Christmas.

Laden with bags, they just about make their way out of the store as the gates close and lock behind them.

“Thanks, mom,” Clara says, clearly ecstatic with all her purchases. “Do you think it’ll be too late to call granddad when we get home? I want to thank him too.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate that,” Martha forces herself to say. She braces herself for undoubtedly hearing a lecture about how she’d betrayed his trust. Not that he’ll demand the money back, of course, but there’s a reason why William Clark had run a top law firm in Metropolis for so many years, and only part of it had to do with his abilities as a lawyer.

Martha’s not wrong. Her ears ring long after she hangs up the phone from her father’s strictures.

***

The next day, Clara gets to school early, intent on catching Principal Kwan’s reaction to the paper she and Lana had worked on the previous day. If a part of her wonders what Chloe will think and whether or not she’ll approve, that’s only natural.

To her surprise, Clara causes quite a stir once her fellow students catch sight of her. The outfit she is wearing isn’t anything special – a simple red tee with boot cut jeans – but that they actually fit her makes all the difference. Students suddenly seem to recall that she had similarly looked great at the homecoming dance, and she gets not a few compliments as she heads for her locker.

And for the first time in her life, Clara feels like she fits in.

“Whoa!” Pete exclaims when he sees her. “Hubba hubba!”

Clara rolls her eyes even as she blushes. “Shut up.”

“When did you finally get a fashion sense?” Chloe snarks.

Clara takes a deep breath, trying to cool her temper. She reminds herself that Chloe has a reason to be upset. Plus this is the first time since their fight that Pete and Chloe are voluntarily within speaking distance of each other – it is a great opportunity to remind the two of them that they’re friends who shouldn’t let harsh words spoken amidst tragedy and pain to continue to impact that friendship.

But all Clara can think is that she doesn’t deserve to be the target of Chloe’s misdirected ire, since all she and Lana had been trying to do is work to save Chloe’s pride and joy. She remembers the long hours they’d put in the day before and the frustration and exhaustion on Lana’s face; she recalls the tired high-five they’d exchanged after the paper had been put to bed, hoping it would be enough to reinstate Chloe as the editor. After everything the two of them have done hoping it would please Chloe, to now have to deal with yet another diatribe from her…

Honestly, Clara is sick and tired of having to put up with Chloe’s temper tantrums and accusations whenever she doesn’t get her way. And she can’t help but remember that they’d just gone through this not all that long ago, too. She suddenly envisions what the future will look like if she lets this slide – Chloe will undoubtedly continue the same bratty behavior and act like Clara is her punching bag if she doesn’t stand up now. Perhaps she should be forced to actually deal with the consequences of her actions so that she can learn from them.

And so, Clara pointedly doesn’t respond to Chloe. Instead, she lets Pete lead her to the Torch office, leaving the blonde to fume behind them.

Lana is already waiting, smiling with pride at that day’s issue of the paper on the desk in front of her. Her smile brightens when she catches sight of Clara and Pete.

“Morning!”

“Has Kwan been by yet?” Clara asks, eagerly reaching for the paper.

“Nope, not yet. I’m sure he’ll be by soon though.”

Pete looks at the headline, ‘Kwan Crushes Freedom of Speech’ and whistles. “That’ll get his attention.”

Principal Kwan doesn’t disappoint. He enters the Torch office, the paper clutched in his hand. He holds it up when he sees them.

“Miss Lang! What’s this?”

“It’s a news story,” Lana replies with aplomb.

“It’s unacceptable.”

“Why? It covers all of your criteria. It deals with a student, a school-sponsored club, and there are no mutants in sight.”

He frowns before asking, “Did you do this because you thought I’d reinstate Miss Sullivan?”

“I did this because it’s the right thing to do. Chloe was born for this job.”

“Although I do admire her passion, her reporting lacks accuracy.”

“I can work on that,” Chloe says from behind them. When they look over, the blonde appears both hesitant and determined at the same time, and Lana can’t help but cross her fingers, hoping her and Clara’s gambit has worked.

Kwan directs his stern look at the blonde. “If you want your job back, Miss Sullivan, don’t print what you can’t prove. Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Principal Kwan.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Miss Lang.”

Lana adds, “It wasn’t just me. Clara was a huge help.”

Clara smiles at Lana in thanks for the acknowledgement, though it fades when she looks over at Chloe.

“Should get to class, wouldn’t want to be late.”

Lana turns to Chloe as Clara and Pete head out.

“Congratulations. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. Uh… you know. Lana, I’m sorry I flipped out on you the other day. I just… you know, the paper’s kind of my identity and it’s like the only thing that Clara and I do together these days and when I saw you here-”

“You thought I was trying to cut Clara out of your life?”

“Nobody ever said I was rational,” she quips.

“I want to be friends with you, Chloe. But I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship with Clara.”

“Oh no. Don’t worry. We’re long overdue for a conversation. We’re always going to be best friends, but that doesn’t mean she can’t have more than one.”

Lana relaxes. “I’m glad.”

“Good. I’m glad we got that settled. Now, let’s see what you’ve messed up since I’ve been gone,” she jokes with a smile, and Lana echoes it.

***

Clara isn’t exactly expecting Chloe to beg for her forgiveness, so it comes as a surprise when the blonde actually puts together a PowerPoint presentation titled ‘How Chloe Sullivan Allowed her Hindbrain to Hijack her Prefrontal Cortex and Hurt her Best Friend.’ It’s ridiculous and over the top, and Clara can’t help but smile.

“I really am sorry,” she says at the end. “And I know I’ve said that before. But I swear, this is the last time I’ll ever threaten our friendship like that. You’re absolutely entitled to have more female friends, and while I can’t promise I won’t ever get jealous of Lana, I’ll do my best to keep my foot from my mouth and actually listen when you point out when I’m being an ass.”

The speech is carefully rehearsed but that doesn’t mean she’s not sincere, and Clara sighs as she readily forgives Chloe.

“I reserve the right to pull out this PowerPoint in the future.”

Chloe eagerly nods. “I promise I’ll watch it.”

With that, the two friends hug.

“Now, what about you and Pete?”

Chloe lets out a long sigh. “That wasn’t just my fault, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sure Pete does as well.”

After a beat, Chloe strides out of the Torch office to go track down Pete, and Clara follows in relief.

She’s startled when, rather than saying anything, Chloe just walks up to Pete and socks him in the arm. Just as Clara’s about to facepalm, Pete retaliates by tickling her. Chloe laughs and jerks away, and his lips twitch into a smile. Though he doesn’t put his arm around her, he walks beside her. Clara’s not exactly sure how arm punching and tickling mean apologies, but it’d worked, if not perfectly then at least enough so that the two of them seem to have called some kind of a truce so that they aren’t ignoring the other’s existence.

That’ll just have to do for now.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

While the money from William Clark successfully saves the Kents from financial ruin, it unfortunately introduces a new strain into Martha and Jonathan’s marriage despite the couple’s best efforts. Martha had accepted that problems might arise between them when she’d made the decision to go behind Jonathan’s back to contact her father, but for Clara’s sake, she’d opted to bear the consequences rather than wait in vain hope that he’d come around. After 20 years of marriage Martha knows her husband well, and with the way he’d gotten his back up when she’d first broached the subject, she’d known there’d be no way he would ever agree to ask her father for financial assistance. The farm could have been burning down around them and he would have still refused to call for help from the man who had deemed him not good enough for his daughter for fear of proving him right. And so, she’d taken that decision out of Jonathan’s hands altogether.  

And honestly, it hadn’t been that difficult a decision to make, because Martha trusts in her marriage, and she’d known that in the end, Jonathan would forgive her for anything and everything, even turning to her father to save their home.

But she had hurt him, and not just his pride as she’d thought. Jonathan argues otherwise, of course, but she can tell. He thinks she’d called her father for help because she hadn’t trusted that he would be able to find a way out of their financial troubles, and her lack of faith in him, in them, is something he’s having trouble grappling with. And Martha can’t claim he’s entirely wrong; she hadn’t thought of it in terms of trust, but she had deemed outside assistance to be necessary to save their farm. Having failed to come up with a workable solution to their financial problems, she hadn’t believed he would be able to – at least not within the necessary timeframe – and that’s certainly an issue that she – they – will need to work on going forward.

Martha has repeatedly attempted to explain that she doesn’t lack faith in him or their marriage, of course, but while Jonathan is clearly not angry or resentful, the comfortable familiarity that she has come to rely on these many years is missing. Kisses and touches are fleeting and careful, both of them uncertain as to what’s acceptable to the other. And while Martha knows that in time, things between she and Jonathan will go back to how they used to be, time is something they unfortunately don’t really have, not when they have a teenage daughter who is prone to blaming herself for things she didn’t cause. Despite their best efforts, it hadn’t taken long for Clara to notice the strain between them, and Martha refuses to let their daughter blame herself for that.

She already does far too much of that as it is.

“Sweetheart,” Martha says at last when she once more catches Clara shooting them worried looks across the dinner table. “The issues between your father and I have nothing to do with you.”

From the sudden stiffening of Jonathan’s spine, it’s clear he hadn’t expected her to broach the subject so overtly, if at all.  

Clara carefully puts down the fork she’d been using to aimlessly move the food around her plate. “But I convinced granddad to-”

“Hey, I’m the one who called him, remember?” Martha carefully doesn’t look over at Jonathan.

Clara fidgets as she looks between them before softly asking, “Do you regret it?”

“No.” That’s the problem, really – if Martha had regretted her actions, there would be something for Jonathan to forgive her for and for them to move on from. But the only thing she regrets is the pain she’d caused him, and while she wishes she could have found another way, the outcome – saving their home – she isn’t and can’t be sorry for.    

Jonathan clears his throat. “I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle of this, Clara.”

Shrugging, Clara picks up the fork and spears a piece of chicken from her plate as she carefully suggests, “You should still go to Metropolis for your anniversary. Maybe it’ll help.”

Martha thinks about it. Getting away from the farm, even for a day, to just focus on them and their marriage, can only be a good thing in her opinion. It would certainly allow them to talk about any issues they have freely without worrying that Clara will overhear. And it’s not like they need to worry about whether or not they can afford the trip.

When she looks over at Jonathan, he doesn’t seem displeased with the idea either. In fact, when he meets her gaze, Martha can tell he’s thinking along the same lines as she is, and she lets out a breath of relief at the evidence that things between them aren’t irreparably broken.

“That’s a great idea, Clara,” Jonathan says, and reaches over to gently squeeze Martha’s hand.

Clara smiles at them before returning to her meal with gusto.

***

Martha had thought booking a hotel room and making a dinner reservation at the same restaurant where Jonathan had proposed to her would relieve her of her worries, but the opposite happens. She’s reminded of how nervous she’d been the very first time she and Jonathan had dropped Clara off at school, and that time a large part of her nervousness had been about fear, of Clara accidentally betraying her strength and speed and some government official coming to take her daughter away from her. This time, her uneasiness has nothing to do with fear of losing her daughter, though that doesn’t lessen the feeling any.

The thing is, Martha knows she’s being ridiculous. Yes Clara will be home all alone for the first time in her life, but as Clara has pointed out, she can certainly take care of herself, she is definitely old enough to stay home alone for an evening, and if anything happens, they’re only a couple of hours away.

And yet she can’t help but feel anxious.  

“Martha, Clara will be just fine,” Jonathan says for the umpteenth time. “She’s responsible and resourceful, and if anything happens, we can come home earlier.” He hesitates before adding, “Do you not wish to go? If you’d rather we not be alone-”

“No, of course I want to go!” she exclaims. Martha clings to him tightly, unwilling to let him believe she’s uncomfortable being alone in his presence. “I’m more than happy to put the focus on just us and our marriage.” She sighs. “I know you’re right, but I’m a mother, Jonathan, about to leave our daughter home alone for the first time. Surely I’m allowed to be a little anxious?”

Jonathan kisses the crown of her head. “Of course you are.”

Martha takes a deep, calming breath, inhaling the comforting scent of her husband. No matter her worries, they’ve decided to spend their anniversary focusing solely on them, and the last thing she wants to do is make Jonathan believe her fretting about leaving Clara alone is her attempt at avoidance.

“You know what I’m most looking forward to?”

“What?”

“The Jacuzzi tub big enough for two,” she teasingly remarks. Feeling Jonathan take a stuttered breath, she kisses his shirt-covered chest before stepping away.

“You know, Clara isn’t due home for a few more hours…” Martha starts to make her way up the stairs to their bedroom. “Coming, Jonathan?”

She smiles when she hears hurried footsteps behind her.

***

The Kent household is up early the morning of Martha and Jonathan’s wedding anniversary. Although they’ll be back the next day, the work of a farmer is never done, and while they’ve tried to do as much as they can the day before, there’s still plenty to do before they can leave. Jonathan especially wants to check everything over, to make sure there aren’t any new issues that have cropped up overnight or old ones that may cause trouble for Clara when she’s home all by herself.

Thankfully, Clara is more than an able assistant, and they get everything sorted in record time. Jonathan’s lips quirk into a small grin seeing his old headphones covering Clara’s ears and his portable CD player sticking out of her jacket pocket. He can’t believe that ancient thing is still working; he’s had some great times with the Discman, and he’s glad it brings her as much happiness as it had him back in the day.

Of course, just as he thinks that, he sees Clara frown and adjust the Discman to prevent it from skipping tracks. Once again shame flashes hotly through him. He wonders how much a new CD player costs, or perhaps that iPod he’s seen commercials of. Though considering how expensive those things are, he doubts he’ll be able to get one for her.

Not unless he uses William’s money, and he certainly has no intention of doing so.

Jonathan forcibly shakes his head and reminds himself that today is all about Martha and their marriage. He has no time to feel sorry for himself for being a pathetic husband and poor excuse for a father and certainly unworthy of the loves of his life. Taking a deep breath and relegating such thoughts to the back of his head with the ease of practice, he takes the overnight bags to the truck.

Meanwhile, Martha goes over some last minute instructions with Clara. Much of it is nothing Clara doesn’t already know, but she lets her mother ramble, more than happy to do so especially since she’s listening to a copy of Alicia Keys’ album that Chloe had finally burned for her.

“What else? Oh, don’t use the upstairs bathroom, it’s backed up. I have to snake the pipes.”

“Where’s the leftover pizza?” Clara asks when she doesn’t see the homemade pizza slices on the counter. Having skipped breakfast to help her father around the farm, she’s now starving.

“Fridge, second shelf. And you can nuke the chili for dinner.”

As Clara opens the fridge door and bends down to grab the plate with the leftover pizza slices on it, Martha reaches over and lifts the headphone off her ears.                                                                                                                    

“Clara? Some clue you actually heard me?”

Clara gives her an apologetic smile as she grabs a slice of cold pizza. “Upstairs bathroom off-limits after nuking the chili dinner,” she quips before taking a bite, not bothering to warm it up in the microwave. She idly wonders if she can get her heat vision to work so that it just heats things up rather than setting them on fire.

Hopefully she’ll be able to find out the answer to that this evening.

Martha gives her a wry smile. “Glad to see your hearing hasn’t changed.”

Just then, Clara hears the clang of metal against metal followed by Jonathan’s muffled shout of pain.

“Clara!” he calls out. “Can I get a hand out here please?”

Martha grabs the plate from her and places it back into the fridge before reaching for her coat as Clara heads back outside, eagerly taking another large bite of the pizza.

“Hey sweetheart, would you, uh…” In a familiar signal, Jonathan raises his hand, the palm side up.

“Sure,” she replies with a smile.

“Thanks.”

Placing her left hand under the undercarriage, Clara effortlessly lifts the truck until Jonathan can easily slide under on the creeper.

“Truck picked one heck of a day to snap an exhaust hanger,” Jonathan mumbles as he finishes removing the broken exhaust hanger and replaces it with a new one.

Martha walks over, buttoning up her coat and adjusting the purse strap over her shoulder. “Okay, I left the number of our hotel on the kitchen table. I think that’s everything.”

Jonathan slides back out and nods. “And that oughta do it.”

As Clara gently puts the truck back down onto the ground, he jokingly remarks, “I’m definitely raising your allowance.”

Clara tries to smile, tries to take it as a simple joke it’s meant to be, but she can’t help but resent him a little for it. If she was getting a decent allowance perhaps she wouldn’t feel the hit so clearly, but her allowance is only $2 a week, and despite the money from her grandfather, she doesn’t foresee that changing anytime soon.

Ever since Clara had been old enough to understand their financial constraints, she’d never asked for more than her parents could give, unwilling to embarrass and hurt them. But things are different now – there’s money from her grandfather, money that’s meant to be spent on her, and yet despite that all she’d gotten are not even $300 worth of new clothes. And it’s not like she’s asking for the entire sum to be spent on her or anything; an increase in her allowance or another opportunity to go shopping at the mall in Granville so she could actually get the full experience isn’t too much to ask for, she thinks.

But all she’d gotten when she’d broached the subject had been a “Maybe,” except in that tone of voice which really means “No.” It’s as though they’re against her receiving anything that isn’t directly from them. She knows that’s partly why Jonathan had been so against Lex’s gifts – they’re all the things he wishes he could give her but can’t. Yet now that he can give her those things, because the money is from her grandfather, he won’t. And Clara can’t help but resent that her parents’ issues with her grandfather are negatively impacting her.

Clara roughly swallows before she can say something she’ll regret. After all, this isn’t exactly the right time for it. Maybe once her parents successfully manage to sort things out between themselves, they’ll be much more amenable to her requests.

“If you need anything-”

Seeing the worried frown on Martha’s face, she tries to smile as reassuringly as she can.

“I’ll call. Mom, you’ll be back tomorrow night. I’ll be fine.”

Jonathan agrees. “Exactly, Martha, Clara will be fine. And soon, madam, so shall we be.”

He gallantly opens the passenger door for her, and Clara wishes them both, “Happy Anniversary.” As is tradition, she hands over a homemade card with ‘Mom & Dad’ painted in beautiful calligraphy. She’s been making them cards for every special occasion for years, and this time is no different.

Despite having received dozens of such cards, Martha is still clearly touched and leans over to pull Clara into a hug.

“Thank you. Love you, sweetheart.”

Jonathan gently ushers her into the truck before shutting the door. He turns to Clara and places a loving kiss on her forehead. “Thanks for the card.”

As Clara heads back into the house, he calls out, “Hey, think fast.”

She reluctantly catches the dirty rag Jonathan had been using as she finishes the last bite of the pizza, and waves her parents off on their trip.

***

Even though part of the objective in having parental supervision-free house had been so Clara could learn to control her heat vision, she can’t help but think about what she could do instead. Inviting Chloe and Pete to assist them in fully mending their friendship is out, since there’s no way Mr. and Mrs. Ross will let him come over when it’s just her and Chloe at the house. She considers inviting Lana and Chloe instead, to help them become better friends, but it occurs to her that all the typical games and entertainments that they would enjoy at home are missing from the Kent household. She doesn’t have much make-up or nail polish, and indeed nothing that’s seemingly required in all the sleepovers she’s watched in movies and television shows.

Of course, her thoughts inevitably turn to Lex.

Clara has yet to see him, not even when she’d made her produce delivery. It’s astounding how much she misses him despite having only known him for a few weeks. She’d claimed him as a friend, but it hadn’t been until she’d lost his friendship that it had hit her how much she values him and how important he is to her. She bitterly regrets having asked Lex to dance. If it hadn’t been for that, if she hadn’t given herself away… She wishes she could tell him she’s more than happy to just be his friend because he’d been her friend first before anything else.

Clara firmly nods to herself. She’ll invite Lex over for dinner that evening where she’ll make it clear she’s missed him and is only interested in his friendship. He’s been avoiding her but then she hasn’t really made that big of an effort to confront him either for fear that she’ll embarrass herself or be rejected face to face. But she’s already devastated at the loss of his friendship and honestly, she can’t imagine things worsening between her and Lex.  

She can always practice mastering her heat vision once he leaves.

Even if she hadn’t had any powers, having grown up with Martha Kent as her mother, Clara would’ve known her way around the kitchen; however, as Martha had used cooking – baking, especially – to help Clara learn to control her strength and speed, she knows she can make a dinner that will actually taste good even if it may not be Lex’s type of fare. And while there’s a huge television with surround sound system at the mansion – not to mention an excellent cook – Clara thinks Lex has probably never experienced the comfort of a meal eaten in a warm and cozy home, and that he might enjoy himself if he does.

Of course, her friends then have to go and ruin the whole thing.

“What are you gonna do now that you’re officially home alone?” Pete asks as they’re exiting the school.

“Maybe a party?” Chloe suggests. “I think we could all use one.”

“Definitely,” Pete echoes.

“No,” Clara vetoes. “No party.” There’s absolutely no way she’s going to throw a party while her parents are out of town. Not only can’t she afford it, but even if she opts to host a party, she knows it’ll be beyond lame seeing as there’s very little for anyone to do at the farm. Besides, she would much prefer to spend some time mending fences with Lex anyway.

“Do my ears deceive me or is Clara Kent actually suggesting a party?” Lana teases as she walks over with Whitney.

Clara groans. “I said no party. My mom was stressing enough about having to leave me all by my lonesome as it is; if she finds out I threw a party-”

“Did someone say a party at Kent’s house at 8 tonight with no adult supervision?” Brent yells from behind them.

The effects of those words are immediate – cheers and whistles ring out around them. After all the recent stress and losses, everyone is eager to let loose. Clara and her friends try their best to deny Brent’s claim, and Whitney also attempts to help by telling Brent to knock it off, but it’s too late. Plenty of students have already heard Brent as they’re getting into their cars, and Clara can hear plans being made to get kegs of beer to her house. Within the span of a couple of minutes, word about the party has spread like wildfire to what seems like the entire population of Smallville High, and it becomes clear that there will be a party at her house that evening whether Clara wants it or not.

“Oops?” Chloe offers with a wince.

Lana looks at her apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Clara. Maybe you could lock the doors?”

Pete looks around them at the crowd that’s rapidly dispersing. “If you do, they’re going to knock them down.”

Clara groans. “My parents are going to kill me.”

***

For a good hour, Clara contemplates locking the doors and calling the sheriff’s office when the denizens of Smallville High attempt to swarm uninvited into her house. Unfortunately, she’s already considered enough of a loser at school as it is; she can only imagine how much worse things will get for her if she cancels the party and calls the cops on them – never mind that Clara isn’t the one that had issued the invitations to any of them in the first place.

Her friends, feeling terribly guilty about inadvertently causing the entire mess, show up soon after, offering their assistance. Lana even brings over her home audio system in Whitney’s truck, just in case, which Clara gratefully accepts. Whitney even puts his truck at her disposal for whatever she may need, including a trip to Granville for supplies if necessary. After assessing the space, her friends offer to help her lock away anything valuable or breakable.

And so, every breakable item – including plates, mugs, and picture frames – along with anything particularly valuable, are carried upstairs and into the bedrooms where they litter every available surface. Whitney and Clara then MacGyver the doors so that they won’t easily open, in hopes of deterring the curious and the drunken and horny from entering the rooms. Once that’s done, the quartet decide to head into town to buy garbage bags, paper towels, disposable plates and cups, snacks, and of course, furniture covers – or at least plastic saran wraps – so that the Kents’ furniture will come out of the whole thing at least somewhat intact.

Once they’re gone, Clara goes into the storm cellar. She hasn’t been down there since she’d first discovered the truth of her origins, but with the student population of Smallville High due to descend on the farm in a couple of hours, she needs to make sure the alien ship is secured. After using her x-ray vision to make sure there isn’t anyone about, Clara zips into the back forty with her pod and the metal tablet. She digs a hole deep enough that no one else will be able to dig it back up without some heavy-duty equipment.

When she goes to grab the ship, her thumb catches on a peculiar groove. Frowning, Clara looks down and sees a precise, octagonal indent on a raised, horizontal metal band that decorate the two sides of the egg-shaped pod. Wondering if it’s ornamental, she looks at the other side only to see a smooth metal strip, with no indents or grooves or slots visible. Clara gives the ship a thorough examination, but the octagonal depression on that one side is the only anomaly on an otherwise smooth, metal ship.

Almost like a space for a key.

Even as Clara shakes her head and lowers the pod into the hole, telling herself she’s being ridiculous, she can’t help but remember her father telling her he’d just about managed to pull the metal tab from the interior of the ship before it closed, and that they’ve never been able to open up the ship since. It could have run out of whatever battery it uses when it landed on Earth, but that wouldn’t explain how the ship was able to close itself; surely if it had run out of power, the pod wouldn’t have been able to do so.

Clara suddenly feels a desperate urge to go to Miller’s Field where the ship had crash landed, to see if she can find an octagonal piece of metal anywhere near there. Forcibly quashing the urge, she makes herself toss all the dirt back into the deep hole she’d dug, burying the ship and the tablet. Her friends are going to be back soon and she really can’t afford to dally.

After taking a shower to wash all the dirt off, she does a last minute inspection of the house. Everything valuable or breakable that can be moved has been locked away upstairs. The only thing left now is to wait for her friends to return.

So of course her thoughts inevitably turn to the possibility of there being a key to her spaceship, one that, if it opens her pod, could lead to answers to every one of her questions she’s had since she’d discovered she’s an alien.

But what are the chances that it is a key to her ship? And who’s to say that, even if she does find this key, it’ll lead to answers she seeks? After all, it’s not like the spaceship is particularly big, and she highly doubts that the race she belongs to speaks English. Perhaps the key will only lead to more questions she can’t answer, or give her answers that she doesn’t want to hear.

What if she’d been sent to Earth because her parents – her birth parents – hadn’t wanted her? Maybe these powers of hers are strange, even to other aliens, and they’d considered her too much of a freak to live among them.

Clara huffs out a breath and forces herself to calm down.

In the end, Clara can’t help but admit that no matter her ambivalence, she doesn’t have a choice here – she needs to find the octagonal metal before someone else does. The fact of the matter is the metal of the spaceship is unlike anything from Earth, which means the key will likely be the same, and the last thing she needs is to have it be discovered by some random person and risk her secret being exposed.

After checking to make sure the coast is clear, Clara zips straight over to Miller’s Field. Being careful to remain hidden from view – not that there’s anyone around to see her – she activates her x-ray vision and begins to sweep the entire field. There are a few false alerts, but Clara eventually locates the distinct octagonal metal. Double-checking to make sure no one else is around, she quickly digs it up and speeds on home.

Before she can start to worry about what to do with the key now in her possession, Clara hears Whitney’s truck coming down the road.

“Damn it!” she mutters, inwardly chastising herself for her impatience. It’s too late now to go hide the key with the ship. After several attempts at hiding it in various places around the house – her father’s toolbox, inside a tub of flour, in the toilet tank – she opts to tuck the octagonal metal under her mattress. She’s just coming back downstairs when she hears her friends enter with the supplies in tow.

“Well, shall we get started?”

***

As Clara had feared, the yard is full of parked cars – with many a high school student loitering around their vehicles or in some cases sitting on the beds of their trucks – and her house is full to capacity. There is enough loud music blaring that she’s actually surprised the cops aren’t already here to shut down the party.

“Do you even recognize half these people?” she yells to Chloe. The blonde is manning the food and drinks table while also keeping an eye on the stairs leading to the second floor.

“What time is it?” Chloe hollers back.

“You still have half an hour before Pete comes to relieve you!”

Leaving Chloe to scowl, Clara wanders around the party. She worriedly spots a guy she doesn’t recognize stumbling towards the plastic-covered couch. He’s dripping with sweat, and when she goes over to see if he’s okay, he informs her, “Man, I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Wincing, Clara quickly looks around. Spotting a half-empty garbage bag by the door, she zips away too fast to be noticed by anyone, not that anyone is looking in her direction. She grabs the bag and returns just in time to place it under his face to catch the vomit. With an expression of disgust, she only stays by his side for fear of the vomit spilling onto the living room floor.

“Thanks,” he mumbles after he throws up. He’s glassy-eyed and clearly drunk, though it doesn’t look like he’ll be dying from alcohol poisoning any time soon.  

“Right. Don’t mention it,” Clara informs him, before taking the bag once it looks like he’s done and quickly tying it off so that the smell doesn’t get to her too.

She’s outside throwing it into the garbage bin when Lana comes up behind her.

“You know, you’re taking this really well. If I had a hundred people trashing my house, I’d be a little freaked out.”

Clara shrugs. “Nothing I can do about it now,” she points out. “Besides, after a while, you kind of get used to it.”

“Have I mentioned how sorry I am?” Lana says again.

Before Clara can answer, she hears the familiar sounds of fireworks. She looks up only to see the brilliant lights of the colorful pyrotechnics exploding over the sky above her house.

As the partygoers cheer and swarm outside to watch, Chloe and Pete appear next to them.

“Clara, dude, how cool is this?”

She frowns. “Pete, I know you guys want to make it up to me, but this is going way too far. Why didn’t you just call the cops if you wanted to get rid of the crowd? It would have been a lot easier and less expensive.”

“Hey, I can’t claim credit. It wasn’t my idea,” he protests.

“It was mine,” comes the achingly familiar voice of Lex.

When Clara whips around, he smiles at her. “Call it a party gift. I hope you like it.”

She can’t help but stare at him, flabbergasted at his sudden appearance. Considering how he’s been avoiding her for days, she’s astounded that he’s here in front of her, acting perfectly friendly like everything’s all normal between them.

Clara roughly swallows and opens her mouth to say something, though no words come to mind. Another burst of explosion catches her eye and she eagerly takes in the sky as it lights up brilliantly in red and white, taking the opportunity to think of what to say that isn’t just gibberish.

“I mean it’s great, just…”

“Don’t worry about the police, it’s covered,” Lex tells her. “I know this kind of party can make or break a reputation, and I wanted to make sure yours was a hit.”

Clara wants to tell him that this isn’t her party and she’d never intended to throw one, and that she’d wanted to have a home-cooked dinner with him so she could apologize. Thankfully another loud burst of fireworks prevents her from saying all that and making a complete fool of herself.

Before an awkward silence can settle between them, Lex says with an admiring look at the sky, “I hear you’re taking a tour of my plant tomorrow.”

Chloe sighs and looks less than pleased at the reminder. Considering her dad is the plant manager, Clara doesn’t doubt that it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. “It’s a class field trip.”

“What’d you do wrong?” he quips.

“That bad, huh?” Clara jokes back. She can’t help but notice that there’s a careful distance between them that had never existed before, a stiffness to their interaction that feels awkward and makes her want to fidget in discomfort.

Just as she opens her mouth to ask him for a moment alone, as if to illustrate clearly that Lex’s efforts on her behalf for the party she’d never wanted had just been another instance of his generosity, a gorgeous Asian woman in an equally beautiful dress appears beside Lex and touches his arm before draping herself around him.

“Sorry I took so long. Someone overflowed the bathroom.”

Clara winces. Taking the opportunity to look away from the stunning couple Lex and his date make, she looks over at her friends. “I’m officially dead.”

As if to cement that fact, the phone rings unanswered in the house since Clara can’t hear it over the burst of fireworks, loud cheers, and the music that’s still blasting into the night.

***

Lex and his date leave before the fireworks end. Clara is glad she no longer has to try and pretend that everything is normal, particularly because any longer and she fears she’s going to give herself away to Chloe. On the other hand, she can’t stand that this is how their first interaction after the revelation of Clara’s unreciprocated crush will end.

“Lex!” she calls out after him before he can get into his car.

When he turns around and quirks an eyebrow, however, Clara finds herself chickening out.

“Thank you for the fireworks. See you tomorrow. At the tour.”

Even as she beats herself up for being pathetic, Lex nods. “Have a good night, Clara.”

With the end of the fireworks, the majority of the students thankfully opt to head out, leaving the crowd to be of a more manageable size. Clara actually receives a few congratulations for throwing an awesome party, and while she knows it’s completely superficial and something she had nothing to do with, to actually have them acknowledging her existence in a positive way is actually really nice. Even if the majority of them have no idea who she is let alone know her name, the few positive acknowledgments help make up a little for the way she’d completely made a fool of herself in front of Lex.

As Clara is about to re-enter the house, Lana calls out with some urgency, “Clara!”

Considering Lana and Whitney had snuck out to the barn for some alone time, it sends a frisson of alarm down her back to see Lana hurrying over towards her.

“Is someone hurt?” she asks.

“You’d better get out here.”

Joined by Chloe – with Pete now manning the snack table – they enter the barn. Whitney, holding a pitchfork, is standing some distance away from a corner where, in between the bales of hay, a large dirty cloth is draped over something that’s moving. Clara grabs a flashlight and turns it on, though she’s prevented from moving any closer by Whitney’s extended arm. Before she can push forward, Whitney whips the cloth away revealing a black man who’s sprawled out on the ground and covered with sweat.

“Gotcha!” he yells, thrusting the pitchfork in the intruder’s face.

But Clara recognizes the man. “Earl! Whitney, it’s okay, I know him.”

As Whitney reluctantly puts down the pitchfork, Clara approaches with a soft, welcoming smile that quickly turns into a look of concern at seeing Earl’s terrible state. He’s breathing harshly and seems to be unable to stop moving, and despite the cold temperature, he’s covered in sweat.

“Earl, what are you--? Are you okay?”

“I came to see your dad,” he rasps out. “He’s the only one I can trust.”

Clara frowns. “He’s out of town.”

When Earl starts to shake, she reaches for him. “Earl, what’s wrong?”

Except she feels the familiar weakness and pain as her hand nears Earl’s knee, and she can see the veins of her hand starting to bulge and turn green. Clara quickly pulls her hand back and is horrified as he goes into some kind of a seizure. Her head whips towards Chloe.

“Call an ambulance!”

***

As an unresponsive Earl is wheeled away on a gurney, they’re left to wait in the reception area of the hospital. Clara, sitting on a hard plastic chair, bites her lip and runs her fingers over the ends of her hair in agitation as Chloe, who’d accompanied her, gets a can of Pepsi from the vending machine.

“That guy should be in a detox center.”

“He’s not on drugs, Chloe,” Clara protests.

Chloe plops down next to her. “Then why was he shaking like a junkie?”

“Look, Earl worked at our farm for 6 seasons. I spent 12 hours a day with the guy out in the fields,” she says. A fond smile curls her lips as she reminisces. “He even taught me how to play the guitar. He told me he learned because it was a good way to impress women.”

Chloe scoffs. “Yeah, we’re all suckers for a guy with a 6-string.”

When Clara looks at her reproachfully, she asks, “How come I’ve never heard you play?”

Clara shrugs. “Because I don’t have a guitar?” She looks a little sheepish. “I accidentally broke the one he’d given me a few years back. Never got a chance to replace it.”

“You know, just because you spend a lot of time with someone doesn’t mean you know their darkest secrets,” Chloe gently points out.

She looks away. “He was like family,” she whispers.

“Then why did he leave?”

“He took a job at the LuthorCorp plant. It was full-time and the pay was better.” Clara still isn’t bothered by it and neither are her parents. Considering Earl and his wife had been expecting their first child, they’d understood when he’d left them for LuthorCorp.

Just then, two Metropolis cops come through the doors and make their way to the reception desk.

“Where can we find Earl Jenkins?” one of them asks a nurse.

Both she and Chloe stand up from their seats as the nurse informs them, “Exam room 3, down the hall.”

Clara pipes up as she approaches the cops. “Excuse me. I’m a friend of Earl’s. Is he in some kind of trouble?”

The second cop answers gravely, “Oh yeah.”

Just then, they hear screaming from Earl’s room along with a man crying out, “We need some help in here!”

The cops rush over and Clara and Chloe follow. They watch horrified as Earl, standing by the bed, shakes uncontrollably.

“What the hell?”

As the cops try to subdue Earl, one of them gets thrown across the room to join the downed nurse, who seems to have been knocked out after hitting the metal shelving unit.

“Earl!” Clara cries out and tries to help, only to find herself being tossed through the large window and out into the hallway.

She can’t help but think this is becoming a too frequent occurrence lately.

“Clara!” Chloe runs over and does her best to brush off the bits of glass from her coat. “Are you okay?”

Clara is too preoccupied watching Earl suddenly stop shaking and fall to the ground in a faint to answer.

***

To Clara’s dismay, getting thrown through a glass window isn’t something she’s just able to brush off, particularly when she’s in a hospital and the bystanders are healthcare professionals. Clara has never been more thankful that her parents don't have a cell phone, as she knows they would’ve come right back to Smallville despite her assurances that she’s fine. At least none of the doctors or nurses seem curious over her smooth back that’s lacking any evidence of cuts, and the doctor examining her concludes she’s quite lucky. She does warn her that she’ll likely be sore and in pain once the adrenaline wears off, and Clara’s even given a script for some prescription-strength ibuprofen with instructions to follow up in the next few days.

Chloe, after getting confirmation that Clara is okay, offers to return to the house to handle the cleanup. They’d left Lana, Whitney, and Pete in charge of the party, and as Chloe notes, “Lana, I’m sure, has already started cleaning, and no doubt everyone else will join in to prevent her princess hands from getting dirty.”

Seeing that Clara looks like she might protest, Chloe insists.

“And don’t worry, Clara,” she adds, “I doubt it’ll take us all that long to get everything sorted.”

At last, Clara decides to give in to the superior force of Hurricane Chloe. Besides, she’d rather stay and find out what’s going on with Earl anyway.

“Thanks Chloe.”

By the time Clara finally gets in to see Earl, it’s early morning. Seemingly every test under the sun has been performed, and Earl even had to be knocked out again because he started seizing and nearly broke the CT scanner. Thankfully no one had gotten hurt that time, and despite the fact that he’s still unconscious, a deputy is in the isolated room with him, keeping watch.  

Unfortunately, Clara can’t get more than a few steps into the room before she feels the familiar pangs of nausea and pain. She’d thought Earl had a meteor rock on his person in the barn, but he’s now in a hospital gown and the police have confiscated all of his personal belongings. There’s no way a meteor rock is in this hospital room, yet her body is still reacting as if there is.

Giving the excuse that her back is starting to ache, Clara hurriedly backs out of Earl’s room. Unable to visit Earl and with more questions than answers, she finally opts to return home.

Clara is relieved to find that the house is not only still standing, but that the mess she’d been envisioning – of empty bags, popcorn, and other snacks littering the floor and tables, with suspicious substances pooling everywhere – is nowhere to be seen. Even the plastic covering all the furniture has been stripped off. The only things out of place are the placements of the stuff that’d been moved upstairs, which is easy enough to fix.

After Clara super speeds back and forth to get everything back to exactly where they’re supposed to be, she sits down at the kitchen table and grabs an apple from the bowl. Giving a satisfied nod at how clean and perfect everything looks, she reminds herself to thank her friends for helping out.

Only to freeze at hearing the slow clapping from behind her.

Closing her eyes and wincing, she braces herself and turns around and sees her parents standing by the stairs. Martha’s actually even holding a plunger, Clara notes with a cringe.

She stands and backs away a little, as though that’ll help protect her from their anger. “Hi. You’re home early.”

They don’t look pleased. Martha says pointedly, “We called 6 times last night and spoke with 5 different people, none of whom knew who you were.”

Clara sighs as she sits back down. “I didn’t even want to throw a party!”

Her parents don’t look appeased.

“Clara, where have you been?” Jonathan asks gravely.

“The hospital.”

“That’s it, I’m never leaving home again,” Martha dryly remarks. “Who got hurt?”

“Nobody. But I found Earl Jenkins hiding in the barn. He was looking for you, dad.” She shakes her head. “He’s all messed up.”

Jonathan and Martha exchange concerned glances. “What’s the matter with Earl?”

“I don’t know, but he’s wanted for murder.”

Jonathan looks taken aback. “Earl?” he says incredulously.

Clara nods; she still has trouble believing it herself.

“What did he have to say for himself?”

“I couldn’t even get close,” she admits.

“How come, the police?” he asks.

“No, because when I got near him, I got sick. It was weird. I mean, every time I stood next to him, it got worse. It was kind of like…”

“Like what?” Martha prompts.

Clara licks her lips. “It was kind of like the way I feel around meteor rocks.”

Considering she’d never felt such weakness and pain due to another human being before – and Lana doesn’t count since that had been due to her meteor rock necklace – Clara can’t help but worry.

Martha and Jonathan exchange yet another looks of concern.

***

Although Clara wants to return to the hospital with Jonathan, the fact that she’s been forcefully tossed through a glass window – witnessed by the hospital staff – means she has to remain at home. Having to explain that to her parents hadn’t been fun, though they’d understood that there’d been nothing else she could’ve done. But that just makes them all the more adamant that she refrain from going near Earl, especially since she becomes weak near him. As her father reminds her, if she’s visibly in pain or worse, passes out at the hospital, that’ll lead to a whole other set of problems they can’t afford.

Martha naturally decides this means Clara needs to not only do her chores but also face her punishment for throwing a party, which is being grounded for the foreseeable future. After school, unless she has to work on The Torch or make deliveries, she’s restricted to the farm.

As badly as Clara had screwed up, a part of Martha actually finds herself glad for it, since their worry and anger over their daughter’s misbehavior had done much to smooth over any remaining strain between her and Jonathan. However, just because the outcome had been favorable for them doesn’t mean Clara gets off scot-free, especially since she and Jonathan had had to cut their stay in Metropolis short.

At least they’d gotten to enjoy the Jacuzzi tub.

Clara naturally objects, as it hadn’t been her choice to throw a party and she’d only been forced to have it because of an asshole.

Martha, looking somewhat disappointed, reiterates, “You weren’t forced, Clara, and you always have a choice.”

Clara can’t help but acknowledge her mother has a point, and feels like even more of a heel.

***

At the hospital, Jonathan watches through the glass window into Earl’s room as a doctor listens to his heart. The deputy is stationed just inside the room next to the door. Although he wants to march in there and demand answers, he forces himself to patiently wait for the doctor to come out.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jonathan asks when she at last exits the room and closes the door behind her.

After confirming that Earl has authorized his private medical information to be shared with Jonathan, the doctor leads him over to the bank of x-ray film viewers.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t have the faintest idea,” she admits. “It’s amazing his body’s been able to survive the seizures this long. Here, take a look at the x-rays. It looks like he’s got some sort of mineral poisoning, but it’s not from any mineral I’ve seen before.”

Although she flicks on the lights, illuminating the films and making them visible, Jonathan has no idea what he’s supposed to be looking at.

Seeing his confusion, she points out, “Tiny fragments are embedded under his skin. His body is slowly trying to push them out.”

“How did they get in there?”

The doctor looks concerned as she says, “He claims there was an explosion at the LuthorCorp plant 6 months ago.”

Jonathan’s brows furrow. “I don’t remember hearing anything about that.”

“That’s because it didn’t happen,” she informs him. “I pulled the plant’s safety records and I checked with OSHA and the EPA.”

Jonathan, knowing better than most of Lionel Luthor and his shady business practices, doesn’t tell her that he could have easily doctored the records and bribed the officials at those agencies. Instead he asks, “Doc, can I go in and talk to him myself?”

She nods. “Better hurry up. Metropolis PD will be here any minute to transfer him back to the city.”

“Thanks.”

The deputy, recognizing Jonathan, helpfully leaves the room to allow him to talk to Earl alone when Jonathan wordlessly shoots him a look.

Earl smiles and extends his hand. “Jonathan, am I glad to see you.” His smile falters a beat later. “How’s Clara? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“She’s okay,” Jonathan reassures him. Furrowing his brows, he adds, “All right, Earl, what’s going on? I can’t believe that you’d want to kill anybody.”

“It was an accident,” he confesses. “I-I was trying to s-see Lionel Luthor.”

Jonathan is taken aback at that. He’d thought Earl would deny the accusation or have a better explanation than just that it’d been an accident. And it stuns him that he’s not showing even a little remorse for the death of another human being that he’d apparently inadvertently caused.

“Why?” Jonathan rasps out.

“To find out what they were using on Level 3.”

He grips the bedrail. “Earl, you’re not making any sense.”

“When I got that job at the Smallville plant, I was assigned to clean Level 3. They were doing these hush-hush crop experiments, a new kind of fertilizer that’s supposed to make corn grow twice as fast. There was something in the fertilizer that was unstable. There was a huge explosion. I-I was cleaning up at the time, and this stuff… it-it got under my skin. And the next thing I know, they shut it all down and I was transferred to Metropolis. Then 2 months ago, the jitters started.”

“Did you see a doctor?”

“I must have seen 50! But nobody could tell me what was wrong. They needed to know what I was exposed to. But when I went back to the plant, they told me that Level 3 didn’t exist. That it never had. I gotta find out what they were using. That’s why I need your help. You gotta get me out of here,” he pleads.

Jonathan looks away before he forces himself to meet his eyes. “Earl, you’re wanted for murder.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Earl says, grabbing at Jonathan in desperation. When Jonathan keeps avoiding his hands, he grasps onto the front of Jonathan’s shirt, forcing Jonathan to grab his hands to stop him from pulling him down. “I can’t control it. I’m running out of time. The jitters are getting worse. It’s already cost me my job, my marriage, my baby. I gotta get back into that plant or I’m gonna die. Help me,” he begs.

Jonathan breathes in deeply. “You get some rest, Earl,” he says softly, and gently pats the back of his hands until Earl reluctantly releases him and settles back down.

“My baby,” Earl whispers as Jonathan leaves the room.

Jonathan refuses to let his steps falter.

***

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Martha asks after his retelling.

“I have no idea,” Jonathan confesses, rubbing his forehead and wishing he could have something stronger than a cold beer. Seeing Earl like that had been unsettling, to say the least, and though he could easily imagine the events happening as Earl had told him, it had also been evident that there is something clearly wrong with Earl.

Not even an hour earlier, Jonathan would’ve defended Earl, would’ve insisted that a miscarriage of justice had been done. However, with Earl’s confession that he’d killed someone, even if it had been an accident, with seemingly no remorse… Jonathan isn’t sure what to believe anymore.

“I’ve got a field trip to the LuthorCorp plant this afternoon,” Clara reminds them. “Maybe I could take a look around.”

“You can’t go,” Martha tells her. “Remember, you got tossed through another window. It’ll look suspicious if you’re able to walk around perfectly fine mere hours after that. I’ve already called the school to excuse you from the field trip.”

When Clara looks to protest, Jonathan shakes his head.

“I know that you’re worried about Earl, sweetheart, but he’s got more trouble than he can handle. I don’t even know if he’s in his right mind, so please don’t- don’t do anything.”

Seeing the worried and unsettled expressions on her parents’ faces, Clara reluctantly nods.

***

That afternoon, Whitney, along with the freshman class of Smallville High – minus Clara – are on the school bus on their way to the LuthorCorp fertilizer plant. Not a few students bemoan how lucky it is Clara has found a way to get out of the field trip, with many insinuating she’d just gotten too drunk the night before and wishing they’d done the same. It’s only Pete’s firm hand on hers – as well as Clara’s assurances over the phone earlier that day explaining that she’s fine, just sore – that has Chloe able to restrain her temper.

“So what are you doing here, Whitney?” Chloe asks, eager to take her mind off of Clara. “Didn’t you do the trip to the plant in your freshman year?”

He sighs. “I was supposed to, but I skipped it. I was hoping I could graduate without seeing the pile of shit, but someone noticed I’d never gone so… here I am. Yay.”

Lana gives his arm a sympathetic pat. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you’re expecting,” she reassures him.

“No, I’m sure it will be worse,” Chloe informs them all. After all, she knows exactly who will be giving them the tour.

To Chloe’s mortification, it doesn’t take long before her words prove prescient. Dressed in a suit and tie sans a jacket, Chloe’s father stands in front of them all.

“Hello everybody. I’m Gabe Sullivan, plant manager and proud father. Hi, sweetheart,” he says, waving his fingers at Chloe.

As the other students turn to look at her, Chloe reluctantly greets him.

“Hi dad,” she says, clearly looking as though she wants to be anywhere but there. She takes a step back to stand behind Whitney, whose lips quirk but allow the blonde to use his bulk to hide.

“Welcome to LuthorCorp, where we give a crap,” Gabe then says.

“Okay, somebody kill me now,” Chloe mutters.

“A little fertilizer humor there,” Gabe continues, chuckling, clearly not bothered by the fact that nobody else is laughing. “All right, before we go inside, I need you to remove all your cell phones, pagers, jewelry. Anything that jangles, dangles, or rings needs to go in these plastic trays right here. All right, any questions? Okay then, let’s get started.”

As the last of the students finish putting their things in the bin, Gabe gestures. “This way, everybody.”

“All right people, let’s stay together,” their chaperone reminds them all.

Chloe reluctantly follows along.

***

The tour is incredibly boring, as there really isn’t much to see. Thankfully their misery is almost at an end, as they at last arrive at the final stop of the tour.

“This is it,” Gabe says, opening his arms wide. “The plant’s mission control. 100,000 tons of animal waste is processed here every year. Trust me, the results can be pretty explosive. So if any of you had beans for lunch, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Chloe no longer bothers to roll her eyes as her dad laughs. He’s been making these pathetic jokes the entire tour, and she’s pretty much been inured to her dad’s corniness at this point.

Hearing Pete let out a chuckle beside her, she informs him dryly, “Among his peers, he’s considered witty.”

“Mm-hmm,” he replies with a reveling smile on his face. Chloe doesn’t bother to resist the urge to smack him.

Before Pete can retaliate, they hear rattling from the next room, which causes the door to shake and the handle to move back and forth.

“What the heck?” Gabe says, and makes his way through the gathered students. “Excuse me.”

Before he can reach the door handle, it opens and Earl, dressed in an ill-fitting suit, comes out and grabs Gabe.

“Don’t move!” he orders them all, holding the gun with his right hand.

Whitney pulls Lana back behind him, and Gabe shakes his head at Chloe, telling her to stay put.

Earl puts the gun to Gabe’s temple and orders, “Take me to Level 3. Now!”

“Dad,” Chloe whispers in horror.

***

Within minutes of Earl taking the Smallville High students hostage, ambulance, police and SWAT arrive, followed soon after by the media. After that, it doesn’t take long before worried parents gather outside the plant’s chain link fence.

At the Kent farm, Martha turns on the television only to see the news report of a hostage situation at the LuthorCorp plant.

“Oh no,” Clara gasps.

Despite Jonathan and Martha’s efforts, Clara refuses to remain behind. Realizing that if they head over there without her she’ll just follow after them, they reluctantly allow her to come along as they drive over to the plant. They’re not far away when their truck is overtaken by a black Ferrari convertible with a suited Lex in the driver’s seat.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Clara,” Lex says with relief when they pull over.

Clara is too distraught to feel any pleasure at seeing Lex’s concern over her wellbeing. “My friends are in there,” she tells him, her voice shaky with fear. She can’t help but bemoan that she didn’t insist on going on the field trip, because she knows she could’ve done something. At the very least, she would now be there with her friends, giving comfort where she can.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure they all get out safely,” Lex promises.

“Can I ask what’s going on?” Martha asks.

“There’s a lunatic inside demanding to be taken to some place called Level 3.”

At that, all three Kents share a look of horror.

Lex’s eyes narrow at that even as he continues. “We’ve managed to evacuate the plant, but he’s taken the students, their chaperone, and Gabe Sullivan hostage.”

“Is anyone hurt?” Clara asks.

Lex shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Despite clearly dreading the answer, Jonathan asks, “What’s his name?”

“Earl Jenkins.”

Jonathan almost groans. He’d been afraid of that. He feels guilty he hadn’t seen this coming – considering what Earl has already done and his state of mind, he really should’ve known that something like this would happen.

“I know Earl Jenkins. He used to work for us,” he admits.

Lex’s gaze sharpens. “Well, what’s he doing in my plant?”

“He claims that LuthorCorp is doing some crop experiments on some secret Level 3 and that’s what made him sick. He’s convinced that it’s the only place he can get a cure.”

At that, Lex can’t quite hide his exasperation. He quickly gets himself under control, however, and explains the problem to the Kents. “Then we’ve got a serious problem because there is no Level 3.”

“Let us come with you,” Clara pleads. “Maybe we can help. Earl knows my dad and trusts him. Maybe he’ll be able to reason with him into letting everyone go.”

Lex pauses. He wants to insist Clara be left behind, but he has a feeling she’ll find a way to sneak in, and besides, he’ll feel better if she’s somewhere where he can keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe.

He nods. “Follow me.”

As Lex pulls up at the plant, one of the employees opens the gate to allow him through. He informs the security to let the Kents in also, though the SWAT team captain demands they leave their truck behind. As the parents and reporters yell Lex’s name, the Kents hurriedly go through the opened gates even as the police and security prevent anyone else from following through.

“We’ll check on Derek and Jeff for you,” Jonathan tells two of the parents he sees as the gate closes behind them.

They follow Lex to an area set up with a whole bunch of equipment, where Lex signs off on paperwork an employee hands him. Their gazes turn to a monitor displaying the students and Earl in the control room. The students are all sitting on the floor against either the wall or in the center of the room by a console, with Gabe sitting in a chair as Earl paces around them, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a gun clutched in his right hand.

“Oh Earl,” Clara whispers in despair. She wishes not for the first time that she could be inside the plant with her friends.

***

They’ve barely been there for 5 minutes when the sound of an approaching helicopter is heard. Lex looks up apprehensively before his face quickly smoothes out.

“Who’s that?” Martha asks.

“My father.”

As Lex had predicted, Lionel Luthor soon steps out of the helicopter and onto the helipad. He immediately starts climbing up the stairs towards the staging area.

“Mr. Luthor, we have a hostage situation,” the SWAT team captain informs him.

“I was briefed on my way down.” He runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it out from where the spinning of the helicopter rotor blades had sent it into disarray. The moment he spots his son, he demands, “Lex! How did you allow this to happen?”

“I didn’t allow anything,” Lex argues.

Lionel retorts, “Then how did this man get inside?”

Lex can’t help but give a minute flinch at the accusation. Certainly the security around the plant is not as tight as it should’ve been, but then again, it isn’t as though he’d been aware of the existence of any former employees who not only bears a grudge but also had shown not just violent tendencies but actual capacity for murder. It’s not all his fault.

That unfortunately doesn’t lessen the guilt he feels when he recalls Clara’s pale and desperate face.

Lex shoves that image out of his mind and tries to answer his father’s question. “I think-”

“You think? Why don’t you know, Lex?” Lionel demands.

Clara can’t believe a parent could be so cruel and callous to his own child. Of course she hadn’t had all too good of an impression of Lionel Luthor after hearing tirades about the man from her father as well as what little Lex has said about him, but seeing it is a completely different beast altogether. Unable to stand the rapid-fire dressing down Lex is receiving – completely undeserved, in her opinion – Clara speaks up.

“It’s not his fault-” she begins heatedly before Jonathan steps forward and interrupts.

“Can we focus on what’s important?” he demands. “We’ve got innocent kids in there.”

Lionel stares at him in something of a surprise, even as Jonathan purposefully avoids meeting his gaze.

“This is Jonathan Kent,” Lex introduces.

“It’s been a long time but I never forget a face,” Lionel says, and offers a hand to Jonathan.

Clara turns to her father in surprise. She’d never realized he personally knew Lionel Luthor; in all his tirades against him, he’d never once mentioned having met or knowing the man. She wonders just how they know each other.

Shockingly, considering how he’d reacted to Lex, Jonathan actually shakes Lionel’s hand, even if he’s clearly reluctant. Lex, although startled that they’d met previously, doesn’t let that faze him for long. Instead he speaks up, trying to explain the reason for their presence.

“They know the gunman personally.”

“What’s your assessment of this lunatic?” Lionel questions as he barrels past Jonathan, heading for the monitor.

“He’s sick, he’s desperate… and he blames your plant for his condition.”

Lionel stares at the children and the gunman who’s pacing on the monitor. “This Level 3 nonsense?”

“I’ve assured everyone there is no Level 3.” Lex looks Lionel directly in the eye. “That is the truth, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

Lex doesn’t appear to be reassured by that. Neither does Jonathan.

“People’s lives are at stake. What are you going to do about it?”

Despite the horrific situation, Lionel doesn’t seem at all concerned. “I’m going to let SWAT do their job. When he makes a mistake, they’ll move in.”

A look of dismay appears on Clara’s face. Considering Earl is armed and desperate, “a mistake” is bound to result in terrible consequences for her friends. She can’t help the instinctive glance she shoots at Lex, hoping he doesn’t approve of his father’s plan. And while Lex thankfully doesn’t appear to be on the same page as Lionel, he’s also not speaking up.

Fortunately, Martha isn’t the type to remain silent when children’s lives are at stake. She demands, “What about the kids? You need to get on the phone and talk to him!”

Lionel turns to her. “Mrs. Kent, I understand how you feel. I want everyone to walk out of there alive too, but I do not negotiate with terrorists.”

Clara has never seen her mother so furious. Despite the hair color, she’s always been the peacekeeper in their family.

“He’s not a terrorist!” Martha retorts. “He’s sick and he- he needs help! If you won’t talk to him, then Jonathan will!”

Clearly in agreement with his wife, Jonathan heads over to the phone, intent on doing something rather than just standing around. Lex, however, blocks his way.

“You’re not the one he blames,” Lex says. “Is he, dad?”

Lionel doesn’t look pleased, but in the end he signals the SWAT team captain for a way to call the plant control room.

***

Most of the teens keep their heads down, too cowed and frightened to look at the crazed gunman as he continues to incessantly pace the room, occasionally muttering to himself. Chloe isn’t one of them, which makes Gabe both proud and terrified for her. Gabe has done his best to keep the man’s attention focused on him instead of the kids, and though it has worked thus far, keeping his attention isn’t good for his health either, and he knows his luck will not last long.

Indeed, the man’s gaze snaps to him as though he’s heard Gabe’s thoughts, and determinedly heads for him.

Gabe once again tries to reason with the man. “I swear, I don’t know anything about Level 3.”

Earl kicks the chair Gabe is sitting on before cocking the gun. “You’re lying.”

Thankfully the phone rings in the control room, and Gabe picks it up in relief.

“Gabe, it’s Luthor.”

He holds the phone out to Earl. He’s fiercely glad his hand doesn’t shake. “Lionel Luthor.”

“Speaker,” he demands. Gabe presses a button before putting the handset back into the cradle.

“Mr. Luthor,” Earl speaks as he stalks over to the phone. “I’ve finally got your attention, haven’t I?”

Outside the plant, Lionel is speaking into a headset while watching the monitor. Martha and Jonathan stand behind him, Clara clutched between them. Lex is beside his father, though Clara doubts he’s able to hear the conversation. With her freaky alien hearing, she of course can hear everything just fine.

“Earl, why don’t you come out? We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Just tell me what you were using down on Level 3.”

Unfortunately, rather than sounding sympathetic, Lionel sounds as though he’s reading from a script – and not well at that – when he says, “You’re sick, Earl. Let everyone go. We’ll get you help.”

Clara doubts he could sound any less sincere if he tries.

She looks at the monitor in alarm as Earl begins to shake uncontrollably, and he holds onto a gas valve to steady himself. As the students look on in terror, he accidentally breaks the valve that controls the methane gas. Almost immediately, the gauge shows the methane level starting to rise.

“Oh no,” Earl whispers. “See what you made me do? See what you made me…?” He strides over to the camera. “See what you made me do?”

“Way to go, dad,” Lex says dryly. “I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

“The gas valve just broke,” Earl says. “The whole place is gonna go up.”

In the control room, gasps ring out at that. Whitney murmurs, “We need to do something.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Pete mutters back.

“That man’s nuts. He’s not listening to the cops and that methane gas is gonna blow.”

Lana grabs his hand. “Whitney, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not putting my life in that man’s hands.” Whitney looks over at Earl, who’s clearly not paying any attention to either his hostages or the methane gas. He looks at the nearby students, but they’re all 9^th graders and none of them are big enough to help him. He determinedly stands up.

“Whitney,” Lana tries to restrain him, but he ignores her and slowly starts heading towards Earl.

“Luthor, I trusted you,” Earl is saying to the security camera. “You told me you were trying to help people.”

To Whitney’s surprise, he suddenly whips around. “What are you doing?”

Whitney launches forward and is able to knock the gun out of Earl’s hand. Unfortunately, Earl then punches Whitney in the face, sending him flying to the console, where he hits it hard enough to crack something. Whitney can’t hide his pained shout as he collapses onto the floor.

“Whitney!” Lana cries out.

Clara, seeing Whitney collapse on the monitor, tenses. She has never felt so powerless in her life. Just as she’s about to run inside, damn the consequences, she feels both of her parents putting their arms around her, grounding her and holding her in place. Clara won’t be able to shake them off of her without hurting one or both of them.

And so, she’s forced to watch as on the monitor, Earl picks up the gun and aims it at the hostages.

“Get back!” he orders, and the nearby students hurriedly carry Whitney back to where he was sitting before.

“It’s all your fault, Luthor,” Earl says, before shooting the camera. The picture on the monitor turns to snow.

“We’ve got a shot fired, one hostage down. Full alert,” the SWAT captain orders the others as he strides off.

“What was that boy thinking?” Lionel muses.

“He wasn’t,” Jonathan retorts. “He’s a teenager who’s been waiting for someone out here to take the initiative.”

Lex looks at Jonathan, and then darts a glance at a visibly distraught Clara.

Jonathan continues. “Look, you’ve got a hostage situation and a potential bomb in there. Somebody’s gotta do something.”

“You’re right,” Lex says. “I’m going in.”

As Lex strides towards where SWAT is gearing to enter the plant, Lionel follows. “Lex, don’t be foolhardy. This is not time for mock-heroics.”

Despite what it may seem like, Lex isn’t doing this just out of some misguided sense of responsibility. Yes, he wants to wipe that look from Clara’s eyes, but mostly, it’s because should Lionel’s plan to let SWAT handle the situation go awry – which it’s bound to do when an armed, delusional madman has a room full of hostages – the blame will fall squarely on his shoulders. And he refuses to take the fall for the death of high schoolers. At least if he tries to do something brave, even if he fails, he’ll come out of the whole mess smelling like roses when compared to his father.

Besides, after the mess with the bank robbery, he could use some good publicity.

“You said this is my plant. It’s my call.”

Lionel grabs his arm. “I won’t allow it, Lex.”

Lex looks down at his father’s hand on his arm before looking him in the eye. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Lionel’s lips twitch into an amused smile as he removes the offending limb.

The SWAT captain is ordering his men to take their positions when Lex approaches.

“Tell him Lex Luthor’s coming to see him,” he instructs the captain.

“I wouldn’t advise that, sir,” he replies.

“Make the call,” Lex orders, before turning to another agent. “Give me your vest.”

Even as the captain looks torn between exasperation and admiration, Lionel’s smile only widens, almost as though he can’t wait to see how this all works out. Clara, unable to stand looking at a man who almost seems excited to see his only son walking into danger that he himself had created, takes a step towards Lex.

Her parents stop her.

“Clara, no,” Jonathan quietly but firmly orders.

“I’m the best person-”

“You’re just as vulnerable around Earl as everyone else,” he points out. “And even if you were willing to risk it, there’s no way they’d let you in there.”

Knowing her father’s right, Clara watches helplessly in her parents’ arms as Lex, wearing only a bulletproof vest, walks into the plant.

***

As the methane level continues to rise, Lex enters the control room, his hands raised in the air and making it clear he’s unarmed.

“What kind of a man sends his own kid to do his dirty work?” Earl says as he approaches Lex.

“I’m not doing anybody’s dirty work, Earl. This is my plant.” He turns to Lana who has Whitney’s head lying across her lap. The blond is pale and drenched with sweat, his face twisted into a grimace, and his left arm is wrapped in white fabric, which is already soaked through with blood. “How is he?”

“He needs a doctor.”

Lex stops beside them. “What are we gonna do about these kids, Earl?”

He shakes his head. “I never meant to hurt anybody. I tried talking to your father but he wouldn’t listen to me.” 

Lex only just refrains from snorting. “I know the feeling.” Taking a gamble, he removes the bulletproof vest. “Earl, you say that everybody’s been lying to you. I’m gonna tell you the truth. My father doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anybody in this room. Because if we all die, his PR firm will spin it, his insurance company will pay out, and you, Earl, will go down as the bad guy.”

“I’m not the bad guy. I’m just trying to get better,” he insists.

Lex points out, “How are you gonna get better by killing a bunch of kids?”

When Earl has nothing to say to that, he walks closer. “If you let everybody go, I’ll take you to Level 3.”

Earl swiftly brings up the gun and points it at Lex. “You stop lying.”

Lex swallows nervously but he doesn’t flinch or back down. Maintaining eye contact, he says firmly, “Let them go, and I’ll show you where it is. Earl, trust me. I’m a man of my word.”

Earl turns to the hostages. “Get out. Get out. Get out! Everybody, get out!” he yells.

As Lex breathes out a sigh of relief, the hostages don’t hesitate. They all get up and sprint out of the control room, several guys supporting Whitney between them. Chloe swiftly runs over to her father and tightly clutches Gabe’s hand as they make their escape.

Not a single one of them looks back at Lex even once. Even as he acknowledges he would do the same in their position, he still can’t help the pang of anger at their ungratefulness. After all, he’s put his life on the line to save them, yet there’s not a single moment of hesitation or a look of gratitude. He knows Clara would’ve at least looked back if not insisted on staying, and not for the first time, Lex finds himself thankful that she’s outside and safe with her parents.

He chastises himself. Now isn’t the time to let his thoughts wander. His gambit may have paid off, but it’s not over yet. What happens next is going to be incredibly dangerous, with his very life hanging in the balance, and he can’t afford to be distracted. Indeed, he can feel his palms starting to sweat. Feeling like he can’t breathe, he impatiently tugs off his tie.

Clara, who has been following Lex with her x-ray vision, watches horrified as he remains in there with Earl as everyone else starts coming out. She can guess what he must have offered Earl in exchange, and considering his belief that Level 3 doesn’t exist, that means Lex is in grave danger once Earl realizes he can’t fulfill his end of the bargain.

“The kids are coming out,” the SWAT captain informs them after listening to his earpiece.

“Oh, Jonathan,” Martha breathes out in relief.

The captain turns to Lionel. “We need to bring down the fire doors. The gas levels are too high. Your son will be sealed inside. I’m sorry, sir.”

Lionel doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Clara wonders if he’s regretting letting Lex go into the plant, if he’s trying to come up with a way to save his son. He rubs his bottom lip with his finger, his gaze far away, as though contemplating something. He then nods and orders, “Do it.”

Clara, horrified, doesn’t let her parents keep her with them this time. Instead, she uses the distraction of her fellow students making their way out to speed as fast as she can into the plant, going so fast that she’s invisible to everyone. She neatly avoids the students and SWAT agents as she ducks through the lowering fire doors and into the plant.

Earl, after looking at the gauge, turns to Lex. “We’re running out of time. All right. I’ve done my part. Now it’s time for you to do yours.”

Lex, knowing it’s all a waiting game now, sits down on a nearby chair. He says carefully, “Earl, there is no Level 3. It’s all in your head.”

Enraged, Earl pistol-whips him in the head, causing him to fall to the ground with a grunt of pain.

As Clara pauses in the doorway, trying to figure out a way to save Lex, Earl begins to rant. “Every night, I go down to Level 2, I follow the red pipes down that long hallway, I go to the door, I open it, and I take the elevator down to Level 3! And you’re telling me it’s all in my head?”

Earl forcibly grabs Lex and makes him stand. Lex bites back the sounds of pain even as he holds his hand over the back of his head where he’d been struck.

“I should have never trusted you! You Luthors are all the same.”

Knowing she has no chance of taking Earl on one-on-one, especially with all those meteor fragments under his skin, Clara realizes that the best thing she can do is to find the damn elevator. Sending mental apologies Lex’s way, she speeds away. She follows Earl’s inadvertent instructions and finds herself in what looks like a random closet, except everything inside has been overturned. When she uses her x-ray vision to see through the wall, however, she sees the elevator that Earl had been speaking about.

“Earl!” she calls out as she enters the control room, though she does her best to keep her distance, to make sure she remains unaffected by Earl’s meteor rock-embedded body. “I found Level 3! They built a wall in front of the elevator but it’s still there.”

“Stop playing with me!” Earl roars even as Lex orders, sounding rather panicked, “Get out of here, Clara!”

Even when Earl throws Lex away from him, Clara forces herself to keep her eyes on him, knowing the best thing she can do for Lex is to get Earl to listen to her.

“Earl, it’s here.” When he seems to be wavering, Clara adds, “Earl, this is me speaking. I’m not lying to you, I promise.”

He roughly grabs Lex by the arm and lifts him back onto his feet. “Come on. I want you to see the truth.”

Clara pulls back and allows Earl and Lex to get in front of her. As they turn the corner, she speeds towards the methane gas valve and physically turns it to the right until the levels start coming down.

“Come on! Come on!” Earl yells.

She hurries and joins them, unwilling to test Earl’s patience.

***

“Sir,” the SWAT captain says to Lionel, who’s been busy on the phone since he’d sentenced his son to his death.

“Hold on,” Lionel says into the phone before turning to the captain.

“The gas pressure is beginning to drop.”

Lionel looks puzzled. “How did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

Martha and Jonathan, who overhear the exchange, breathe a sigh of relief. He tugs her close and inhales the scent of her hair, as they pray that their daughter makes it out safely.

***

When Earl and Lex open the closet door, they see that the back wall has been broken through to reveal the elevator, with an ax lying on the ground. Perhaps if Lex isn’t suffering from a head injury and is not in pain, he would have questioned just how Clara could have managed to clear so much space, even using an ax. But he’s not in the best condition and so it doesn’t yet register.

“Son of a bitch! How do you explain that?”

“I can’t,” Lex replies.

When Earl presses for the elevator, the door slides open. Clara braces herself as she enters after Earl and Lex, but she can’t disguise the pain she feels, and despite the fact that she hasn’t been pistol-whipped, she looks even worse than Lex.

“Are you alright?” Lex asks her, worriedly eyeing her pale face.

Clara shoots him a tight smile and gives an excuse that she hopes works. “I got thrown through a window a few hours ago. Again.”

Earl turns to her at that. “I’m sorry, Clara. You know I didn’t mean to-”

She shakes her head, eager to just get this over with. “It’s okay, Earl. I know.”

When they look over at the control, however, there are only 2 buttons.

“2 buttons, 2 levels. I’m sorry, all right?” Lex says.

Earl doesn’t even hesitate. He presses the space below the button for level 2, next to the red emergency stop button, and it lights up.

Lex freezes. Clara guesses knowing your father essentially sacrificed you to prevent revelations about questionable experimental research will do that to a person.

The elevator doors open into a dark room and Earl pushes Lex out, causing him to unceremoniously crash onto the floor. Earl flips a switch beside him, which lights up a large warehouse with a metal bridge across the top of the space, with the elevator positioned at the beginning of the bridge.

He starts to walk across it. “I told you it was here,” he gloats.

As Lex slowly follows, carefully examining the space, Earl pauses.

“Huh? Where is it? Where is everything? There used to be a- it was a field of corn with sprayers all over it. And every night they’d spray this green mist on it. What have you done with it? What have you done with it?”

Lex looks shaken. “I don’t know. They lied to me too, Earl. I had no idea this was here.”

Earl’s laugh makes him sound unhinged. Clara takes a step out of the elevator. “Earl, let’s go back upstairs and talk about this.”

“It’s all gone, Clara. How am I gonna get better if I don’t know what poisoned me?”

Before she can mention the meteor rocks, Lex says, nearly begging, “I didn’t know about this place, Clara. You’ve got to believe me.”

She holds out her hand towards him. “I know, Lex, I believe you.”

“He’s lying!” Earl shouts. “He’s just like his father!”

He tries to aim his gun at Lex but he starts seizing again, and the force of it is powerful enough to violently shake the metal bridge. Lex hangs tightly onto the railing with both hands to keep from tumbling off. Unfortunately the sheer force of Earl’s seizure is strong enough that bolts holding the metal structure together start popping out. Soon the bridge tilts, leaving Earl and Lex hanging off the side.

“Clara!” Lex yells.

Earl loses his grip and slides down further, until he’s hanging onto the very edge. Clara runs towards them, but the pain and weakness she feels as she gets closer to Earl causes her to stop. The change in weight distribution and weakening bridge leads it to crumble even more, and Lex gets thrown off from where he’s been hanging on.

“Lex!” Clara screams.

Lex just about manages to grab onto Earl’s legs. Unfortunately he makes the mistake of looking down, and his fear of heights sends his already hammering pulse skyrocketing. “No! Oh god!”

Knowing she has no other choice, Clara carefully makes her way across the steeply tilted section of the bridge. She gulps seeing the sheer drop to the ground. She tells herself that she has no reason to be terrified of heights given her seemingly invulnerable body, but no matter how ridiculous it is, she still can’t help but be fearful of being so high up in the air. Nevertheless, she forces herself to continue on, reminding herself that Lex and Earl’s lives are at stake.

Because of the tilt of the bridge, Clara has to tightly hang onto the railing with her right hand as she walks carefully over the other railing, with the floor of the bridge at her back. When she gets to where Earl is hanging, she stretches out her left hand. She grimaces in pain when it feels like her blood is boiling and the veins of her hand bulge and turn green, but she grips his forearm as firmly as she can before she starts to pull him up. For the first time in her life, Clara breaks out into a sweat. Her entire body burns and she screams, unable to ignore the pain any longer. But she still refuses to release her grip on Earl’s arm. As sweat drips down her face, she successfully manages to pull Earl up until he’s able to grab the railing next to her and Lex can grab onto the bottom part of the bridge.

Panting, she tells Earl, “Get to the elevator.”

Clara helps Lex get up the rest of the way after that and they painstakingly climb back up towards the elevator. Unfortunately, Earl begins to shake again. Looking at each other, Clara and Lex lunge forward, tackling Earl on the way. They successfully land on the floor of the elevator just as the bridge crumbles and crashes to the ground.

Lex knows he’s incredibly lucky to have survived, that if it hadn’t been for Clara, he would have died. It’s not the first time he’s had such thoughts, though this time around it’s a little more baffling. He’s read stories of miraculous feats of strength performed by parents when rescuing their children, but he can’t help feeling like this is something completely different.

“Clara, how did you pull us up?”

Utterly exhausted and in pain, Clara can only mutter, “I don’t know.”

***

Thankfully for Clara, due to all the chaos, no one seems to have cottoned on to the fact that Clara is no longer with her parents, nor is anyone wondering just how she’d managed to get herself inside the plant. Instead, with the EMTs and SWAT focusing on Earl, the press interviewing the parents and their children and trying to get shots of the crazed gunman and Lex, the hero of the hour, Clara is entirely able to escape notice.

Seeing her parents, she runs towards them and into their warm embrace.

“I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life!” Martha cries joyfully.

“Does that mean I’m no longer grounded?” she weakly asks, even as she hugs back just as tightly.

“Don’t push your luck,” Jonathan says with a laugh, and he tugs her in even closer.

Lex, on the other hand, after shaking off the EMTS, slowly walks over to his father who remains standing in the same spot. “You lied to me.”

“No. When? I told you Level 3 wasn’t on any plans. It wasn’t.”

As Lex turns his head away with a scoff, Lionel continues. “It’s plausible deniability.”

“What were you doing down there?”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a failure. We closed the door and moved on.”

Lex looks at him with disbelief mixed with anger. “You almost got me killed.”

“No, you almost got yourself killed. It was your call, remember?”

“Mr. Luthor!”

Seeing the press coming towards them, Lionel turns to Lex. “I’ll handle this.”

“Mr. Luthor, what can you tell us about Level 3?” a male reporter asks.

“I think you’re referring to a redundant storage area at the base of the plant. Mr. Jenkins is a very sick man who desperately needs medical attention-”

Lex steps forward. “That’s why my father and I have pledged to find Mr. Jenkins the best medical care possible. He was a LuthorCorp employee and here at LuthorCorp, we always put family first. Isn’t that right, dad?”

Lionel shoots the press a smile, but Lex can see the fury in his eyes.

A female reporter asks, “Mr. Luthor, is it true the government is trying to shut you down?”

“No, no, no. No more questions, please,” Lionel says, and taking advantage of the convenient excuse, he turns and pulls Lex into a hug. “My son has been through quite an ordeal today.”

Lionel taps and rubs Lex’s back as though in comfort, though the hug is stiff and awkward, with Lex’s arms trapped at his sides.

Over Lionel’s shoulder, Lex sees Clara and her parents, who are still hugging and smiling and genuinely radiating joy at their reunion. And he can’t help the stab of bitter jealousy that wracks through him.

Just then, Clara looks over as if to check that he’s doing okay. Her tender smile dissolves much of the bitterness roiling in his stomach. She’d once again saved his life today, and he knows without a shred of doubt that she wouldn’t even think to ask for a thank you. And he at last admits to himself that his attempt to erase his inappropriate feelings for her has failed miserably.

As he drinks in her care for him like a man dying of thirst, it hits him that Clara looks… okay. The pain that had clearly been written on her face is now gone, and while he could attribute that to her joy at being safely reunited with her parents, when combined with questions of just how she’d gotten inside the plant and broken through a thick cement wall, not to mention just how she’d managed to vertically deadlift two grown men with one arm…

Once the press disperses to follow Earl and the other rescued hostages, Lionel abruptly releases Lex. He looks away from Clara before his father can catch his interest, and reluctantly heads towards the EMTs. Now that the crisis is over, he can feel the throbbing at the back of his head like a jackhammer to the skull.

Just before he gets into the back of an ambulance, he looks back at the still smiling Kents now walking towards the exit. Telling himself that his interest in her is purely academic, his eyes thoughtfully narrow as he ponders the mystery that is Clara Kent.

***

That night, Clara lies awake in her bed, her mind whirling. With everyone now safe and no other mystery occupying her mind, she can’t help but think about the key hidden under her mattress that may be the secret to unlocking all the answers she’s ever wanted to know about herself and her past and just why she’s here. And yet she finds herself unable to do anything about it. What if the key isn’t what she suspects? Or doesn’t lead her to answers she seeks? Or it does, but the answers aren’t what she hopes to hear?

Clara tells herself that it’s not like she’ll be able to do anything with the ship even if she gets it open. Even if she could go back to whatever alien planet she’d come from, Earth is her home and her parents and her friends are here. Everything and everyone she cares about is here, and she can’t – won’t – leave them behind.

So what’s the harm in trying to open the ship? Surely getting even a single definitive answer is no worse than endlessly imagining the possibilities?

When a minute passes, then two, then five, Clara throws in the proverbial towel. She lifts up the mattress with one hand and pulls out the metal key with the other. She runs her thumb over the weird symbols engraved on three of the sides of the octagon, before quietly making her way out of the house and to the back forty where she’d buried her ship.

Despite digging at normal speed, it doesn’t take long before the ship is revealed.

Taking a deep breath, she pulls the key from her pocket. To her surprise, she feels it vibrate in her hand, and she feels a tug, as though the key is magnetically attracted to the ship. Clara lets it go, and she watches with bated breath as the key flies towards where there’s a matching octagonal indent. The key rotates in the air until it seems to hit the correct position, before fitting seamlessly into the slot. The engine whirs as the ship powers up, before it rises into the air. A bright light seems to emanate from inside the ship before seams appear in the main, egg-shaped part of the pod.

Which then suddenly retracts, revealing to Clara the interior of the pod.

She’s devastated to find that it’s completely empty.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Despite Lex being hailed as a hero for bravely risking his own life to save the lives of high school students – even the Smallville Ledger had proclaimed him as such on their front page despite claiming he’d been a criminal just a couple of weeks ago – LuthorCorp itself is facing a public relations nightmare. In an attempt to mitigate some of the backlash, Lionel announces that every LuthorCorp employee needs to undergo a physical. Lex isn’t sure how a physical will determine whether or not their employees are at risk for going on a homicidal rampage, but he hadn’t protested, and indeed, had reluctantly agreed to set a good example by getting his done first. He doesn’t particularly think it’s necessary in his case since he’s already been thoroughly examined and cleared after being pistol whipped, but as Dr. Vargas tells him there’s only one more test he has to undergo, Lex opts to grin and bear it.

Of course, Lex Luthor doesn’t go to a doctor’s office – the doctor comes to him. As his staff moves the treadmill from his gym to his study, he impatiently waits for Dr. Vargas to arrive.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Luthor-”

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” he interrupts dryly. Lex has never been fond of medical professionals let alone being examined by them, and he has no interest in feigning politeness and chitchatting to prolong this useless exercise.

Dr. Vargas merely nods in agreement and begins to pull out the necessary equipment. Once Lex is hooked up to various monitors, Dr. Vargas instructs him to run on the treadmill.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Dr. Vargas eventually says, writing down the readings before unhooking Lex and turning off the monitors.

Lex continues running on the treadmill, though he gradually slows his pace. “Done already?”

“Yeah. It looks like your heart could go on like that forever and I have all your other test results from the hospital that’ll suffice.”

He stops. “Good. Then I won’t have to go through this physical nonsense for 5 years.” Wiping his face with a towel that had been on the handle of the treadmill, Lex walks across the room to the bottles of water that his staff has placed on his desk.

“Well, let’s hope not,” Dr. Vargas remarks. “There is one thing I need to talk to you about. I looked at your most recent blood work. You have an unusually elevated white cell count.”

Lex grabs a bottle of Ty Nant and takes a sip. “What, like leukemia? That’s not likely. I don’t get sick.”

He sits down in his chair behind his desk, where an opened but hibernating laptop sits, along with 2 more bottles of Ty Nant and a glass bowl full of nuts.

“Are you on any medication?”

Lex leans back and puts his feet up on his desk. “Nope.”

“Do you have any allergies?”

“No.”

“Childhood illness?”

Lex hesitates briefly before taking another sip of water. “Asthma.”

“When did that stop?”

“The day I lost my hair,” he says facetiously. “Is this going somewhere?”

“If this were anywhere else I’d order a battery of tests, but I do see a lot of this in Smallville,” Dr. Vargas admits as he caps his pen and puts it away in his suit pocket.

“Why should Smallville be any different?”

He hesitates. “Well,” he eventually says, shooting Lex a quick glance before turning away to pack up his briefcase, “some say it’s because the LuthorCorp plant has contaminated the environment.”

Lex’s lips quirk. “I very much doubt that.” He gets up and grabs a green apple from a bowl on the windowsill behind his desk. “Let’s order those tests.”

He then walks past the doctor and out of the study, not waiting for Dr. Vargas’s answer.

***

As it is the weekend and with all of her chores completed, Clara is left with too much time to think and worry, with nothing to distract her from her thoughts. Not even her seemingly patched up friendship with Lex can keep her from wondering – and lamenting – over her still unanswered questions about herself and her past.

Clara knows she should tell her parents what she’s discovered. This isn’t an embarrassing power like her heat vision, after all, and she knows her parents would want to know about the key that opens her pod. And yet, for some reason, she finds herself unable to do so, and she’s not sure why. It’s not like her parents don’t already know she’s an alien, and she knows they won’t begrudge her need to seek answers. Not to mention, it’s not like she’s found anything – there’d been nothing inside, no hidden message in a bottle or a letter, nothing that would help explain just why she’d been sent to Earth.

Yet she still finds herself unable to speak of it. Clara wonders if it’s because if she doesn’t say it out loud, then she won’t have to admit the truth – that she’s never going to find out who she is and why she’s here.

“Clara! Lunch is ready!”

Eager for a distraction, Clara hurries out of the loft. Maybe she’ll be lucky and her parents will even let her go visit Lex despite being grounded, if only to let her thank him for saving the lives of her friends and fellow classmates.

***

To Clara’s pleasant surprise, her parents not only agree to let her visit the mansion but even ask her to convey to Lex their gratitude as well. Of course, just because she’s allowed to go on this one excursion doesn’t mean she can stay long – her mother tells her she still has to return well before dinner.

“We’re granting you an exception but you’re still grounded, young lady,” Martha reminds her.

Clara feels a flutter of nervousness in the pit of her stomach as she drives up to the mansion, but she squashes it. Lex had been perfectly friendly even before the whole mess with Earl, and while things between them are bound to still be a little awkward, there’s no chance she’ll be turned away this time.

She’s proven correct when Mrs. Palmer politely greets her at the door and informs her Lex is in his study. Ignoring the urge to look for Amy, Clara instead hurries up the stairs.

Her happy greeting falters when she sees a treadmill in place of the pool table. Brows furrowed in confusion, she asks, “Don’t you have a home gym for this stuff?” as she makes her way over to the couch.

“Had to get a physical,” Lex tells her. “LuthorCorp policy.”

“Ah,” she says thoughtfully. “Everything okay? I thought you were cleared by the doctors.”

He shoots her a warm smile. “Everything’s fine, Clara. Thanks to you.”

She shakes her head. “It was nothing compared to what you did. You’re the one who risked your life to save everyone, Lex. It was… selfless and brave and so incredible, and I’m beyond grateful. And so are my parents.”

She realizes a moment too late that she’s staring at him with an undoubtedly adoring expression on her face. Considering that’s the last thing he needs to see, she hurriedly looks around the room for something to say to change the subject.

Lex thankfully comes to her rescue. “I can get the staff to take the treadmill back to the gym and put back the pool table if you want to play a game.”

Clara shakes her head. “Nah, it’s fine.”

He looks at her thoughtfully. “It’s no trouble.”

“I don’t even know how to play. Besides,” she adds, when it looks like he’s about to interrupt her, “I can wait to learn to play another time.”

Lex eyes her before slowly nodding. “How about a movie then?”

“Sounds great!”

Although it’s December, Clara picks a horror movie to watch. While she adores Christmas movies, it’s a tradition in the Kent household to marathon the classic ones throughout Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and so Clara’s taken to not watching them at any other time to ensure she truly enjoys the movies during their marathon. Besides, she also adores Halloween too. Trick-or-treating had been the only activity she could freely participate in when she’d been younger, and the fact that she could get free candy hadn’t hurt either. Unfortunately, once she’d gotten too old for trick-or-treating, Halloween had become just another boring day of the year for her, with watching scary movies on TV being the only bit of fun left.

Unfortunately, she’d miscalculated. Although she likes horror movies, half the fun is in being terrified and screaming at the jump scares. She’d always sought comfort from her parents when watching particularly scary moments, and it isn’t until the first scream sends her burrowing into Lex’s side that she realizes she should have picked a different movie.

Lex is stiff as a cardboard next to her.

“Sorry,” Clara mumbles as she pulls back. Crossing her arms, she squeezes them tightly with her hands in order to force herself to stay still, but it isn’t long before she’s burying her head in Lex’s chest.

This time, Lex is the one who moves away. “Perhaps we should watch something else,” he says.

“Good idea,” Clara agrees quietly. She chastises herself for making Lex uncomfortable; she’d only meant to hang out with him, to get things back to how they’d used to be. Except rather than doing that, she’s only making it worse.

As Lex searches for a different movie from his collection, eager for a distraction, she says, “Man, I’m just glad Smallville isn’t quite that bad.”

She regrets it immediately, but it’s too late. Lex is looking over at her with an arched eyebrow, and she knows there’s nothing she can say that will make her previous sentence sound innocuous. Holding back a groan, Clara explains about Chloe’s Wall of Weird and her theory about how every freaky thing in Smallville can be traced back to the meteor shower.

It’s not really a topic she’s keen on discussing, especially since she’s the reason the meteors had even hit Smallville in the first place. It’s also why she doesn’t bring up the people who have been altered by the meteor rocks. The whole thing not only sounds completely fantastical, but she doesn’t want to taint their conversations with all the things she can’t talk about.

Lex’s eyes brighten nonetheless. “Interesting theory.”

“Most people think it’s crazy.”

“Maybe.” He hands her a bottle of water. “Do you remember where you were when it fell?”

“Not really.” She meets his gaze briefly before looking away. “My parents had just adopted me.”

“I do,” Lex says bluntly. “I was right here in Smallville. My mother wanted me to spend some quality time with my dad. He brought me here on a business trip. Just a quick hop to Smallville to finalize a deal. Funny how one day can change your whole life.”

Clara suddenly feels a foreboding sensation in the pit of her stomach. Still, she can’t help but ask, “What happened?”

He cuts her a glance before turning to stare at the fireplace. His gaze is far away, as though he’s seeing it all happen in his mind’s eye.

“I was out in a cornfield when the first meteor hit. It was like a… tidal wave coming at me. Then everything went black. Next thing I remember, I was waking up in Metropolis General completely bald,” he finishes, looking right at her.

The guilt rips through her. “Lex, I didn’t know,” she whispers.

He laughs but it isn’t a pleasant sound. “Not many people do, Clara.”

He heads over to the bar as he says, “I should’ve died that day. Instead I walked away with this.” He runs his hand over his scalp.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

Except it is, and Clara knows from first hand experience how cruel kids can be. She can’t imagine how terrible things must’ve been for him growing up bald, and she doubts his wealth would’ve protected him at all.

And it’s all because of her.

“When I was younger I thought it was a curse,” Lex says after a long moment, and pours himself a finger of scotch. “Kids figured I was a freak or on chemo.”

When she winces at that, he stares directly at her. “Then I began to see it as my gift, the thing that defined me, that gave me strength.”

Clara looks away before sneaking a glance at him once again. “Do you ever wonder what you’d be like? You know, if you hadn’t come that day?”

Lex shakes his head and smiles a little. “It doesn’t matter, Clara. It happened. Personally, I think my future’s gonna be brighter than that spoiled, rich brat who walked into that cornfield.”

She can’t help but give a little smile in relief. At least in one instance her existence hasn’t completely ruined someone else’s life.

“You know, I’d love to see this Wall,” he says.

Clara shrugs. “You’re welcome to swing by the Torch office at any time. Especially if you let me drive one of your cars.”

Lex laughs. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

***

Flush with victory after a successful afternoon spent renewing her friendship with Lex and eager to forget all about her alien ship, Clara decides that night to attempt to control her heat vision. Of course, since she lives on a farm with fields and wood everywhere, making it definitely not a safe place to practice setting things on fire, she starts to think of other location options.

Near a body of water is a great idea, except Lemaris Pond is too close to the retirement center, Hob’s Pond is not only frozen but has Sean’s body in the depths of it, and Crater Lake is undoubtedly occupied with teens making out in their trucks despite it being December. And she’ll be far too exposed near Elbow River.

As she fidgets with the key, rubbing her thumb over the weird looking inscriptions, Clara hits upon an idea. When she’d put the ship and the metal tablet back in the storm cellar, she’d covered up the hole in back forty, but it’ll be easy enough to dig it up again. Surrounded by the frozen earth, there’ll be no chance of a fire escaping, and if she needs to use her arctic breath, the grounds are already frozen anyway.

And so, sitting in the bottom of a small hole she’d dug dressed in her oldest and shabbiest outfit, she sets a candle down on the ground across from her before staring at the wick, trying to set it on fire.

She’s too nervous at first, and then uncomfortable, despite being out there all alone and hidden from view. It’s not exactly the most relaxing setting to try to get herself aroused – or at least to think arousing thoughts. It is only her fear of hurting someone because of her inability to control her power that keeps her there.

And then that thought of someone morphs into thoughts of Lex, and she can suddenly envision him in Technicolor. His smile that lights up his blue eyes, the smooth skin of his scalp that she longs to caress, the scar on his upper lip making her wonder if she’ll be able to feel it when she kisses him, the firm chest she’d briefly gotten to touch--

Suddenly, her eyes begin to burn again and just like the last time, beams of light shoot out from them. Unfortunately, rather than lighting the wick as she’d hoped, the immense heat causes the whole candle to melt.

She stares at the liquid seeping into the earth.

“Well, at least it’s a start,” she mumbles to herself.

***

Thankfully, once Clara gets the feel for how her heat vision is generated, she can use it without having to think about Lex. And with enough practice she masters her newest ability, so that she can not only use her heat vision on command but can even control the temperature range so she can just warm things up to literally generating enough heat to vaporize it altogether.

Another bonus? Repeated uses of her heat vision without associating it with arousal seems to have made it so that when she thinks erotic thoughts, the burning itch in her eyes doesn’t come.

Thank god.

The sacrifice of the various foodstuffs from the pantry and fridge litter the ground in front of her, and she winces as she eyes the mess. She’s definitely not looking forward to explaining to her mother what’s happened to all the food.

Thankfully, once assured that she won’t be accidentally setting anything on fire, her parents refrain from questioning her about her heat vision in too much detail despite her inability to explain without blushing.

***

The remark by Dr. Vargas about the increased white count of the denizens of Smallville and what Clara has told him about Chloe’s theory leads Lex to search for more information. As he sips a glass of orange juice, he browses through The Torch’s webpage, though the article Clara had mentioned isn’t on the site. He is able to find Chloe’s blog, however, where there’s a special report with the headline ‘Smallville: America’s Strangest Town.’

“Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve laid the theories out for you. I brought it to the people to help me figure out why Smallville has quickly become America’s strangest town. From 1989 on, things have gotten pretty whack funky around here, and some of you out there seem to feel the same way as I do.”

Rather than just continuing to read the blog post, Lex decides he’d prefer to see it from the source.

***

Clara enters the Torch office in search of Chloe only to stop at the sight of Lex standing in front of the Wall of Weird, reading about a 2-feet tall carrot. A wide smile breaks out on her face.

“You know, most of my friends are trying to get out of high school,” she teases.

He turns around and shoots her a small smile. “I was meeting with your principal. Apparently you guys are in dire need of a new computer lab. I figured I could help.”

She grins. “They might even name a lunch special after you.”

Lex laughs. “Thus fulfilling my life’s ambition.”

Clara drops her things off on the nearest desk. “So what do you think of the Wall of Weird? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

“It’s definitely interesting,” he says, turning back towards the wall covered with newspaper clippings. “I was very much struck by it, that’s for sure.”

Just then Chloe walks in, one arm full of folders and holding her coat with the other hand. She stops in her tracks when she sees exactly who is standing in the Torch office.

“Mr. Luthor,” she says with wide eyes.

Lex turns and heads towards her with a polite smile. “It’s Lex.” He extends his hand. “You must be Chloe Sullivan.”

“Thank you for rescuing us,” she breathes out. “Would you be interested in giving an interview-”

“Chloe,” Clara says warningly.

“What?” She shoots her a look of annoyance before turning back to Lex. “And I know you’ve already spoken to the Inquisitor, but I’m writing an article too and it would be great to get your perspective on things.”

“I’m more interested in this,” he says, waving at the Wall of Weird. “Clara has been telling me your meteor theory. I like it.”

Chloe smiles brightly, attention successfully diverted. “Thanks.”

“Especially since most people think my company is secretly behind everything that goes wrong in Smallville.”

“That’s the reigning theory,” Chloe admits with a laugh.

“Are you the only one that blames the meteors?”

“Pretty much. Well, there is Mr. Hamilton.”

“Except most people don’t have too high a regard for a guy who sells plastic meteor chips to tourists,” Clara mentions.

Chloe snorts as Lex says, “Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

As Clara ruefully shakes her head, he turns to back to the blonde. “Call me when you’re looking for a summer job. I’ve got friends over at the Inquisitor.”

Chloe looks flattered and excited at the offer. She’s devoted to the Daily Planet, of course, but it’s nice to have options.

Lex tells Clara, “I’ll see you later.”

Chloe quickly manages to regain control of herself and she whips around before he can leave. “And that interview?”

Despite Clara’s audible groan, Lex looks almost impressed with her tenacity. “Call my office, we’ll schedule a time.”

Chloe barely waits until he’s gone before squealing in delight.

“Please be nice,” Clara nearly begs. “Just remember, he saved your life. The poor guy doesn’t deserve your brand of interrogation.”

Chloe’s eyes suddenly narrow as she stares at her, and Clara gets a bad feeling when she sees the knowing gleam in them.

“You’re crushing on Lex Luthor.”

“What? No, I don’t!” she denies even as she looks out the door to make sure Lex isn’t within hearing distance.

Chloe quickly walks over to her computer and searches for images of Lex. She picks one where he seems to be smoldering at the camera and makes it full screen. Clara would almost think Lex’s eyes had been photoshopped if she hadn’t seen them for herself while dancing in his arms.

It is only Chloe’s wolf whistle that gets her to snap out of it, and she can’t help the sudden flush of her skin.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut it, Chloe. I don’t have feelings for Lex beyond that of friendship,” she futilely tries to insist.

“Suuuuuure…” she drawls, arching an eyebrow. “I definitely believe you.”

“I’m ignoring you!” Clara yells as she storms out of the Torch office, refusing to admit her face is beet red with embarrassment.

***

In the wake of the tragedies that has repeatedly struck Smallville High students in the recent weeks, Principal Kwan decides to keep them busy and occupied yet also connected to the Smallville community at large by instituting a mandatory community service. It’s not a novel idea, considering many schools in the country already have it as a requirement, but it’s a first for Smallville High. The announcement is made and notices are sent out to parents and guardians that students must complete 30 hours of community service, which really isn’t that long considering they’ll have until the end of the school year. The plan is mostly well received, and though many of the students complain, Clara thinks it’ll be great. She’s always wanted to volunteer, but between her parents keeping her at home and her work around the farm, she’s never been able to commit. Not to mention it’s a handy way for her get around the whole being grounded thing.

As Lana has already been volunteering at the retirement center as part of the companion program, she opts to serve her community service hours there. Chloe is hoping to see if she can use the opportunity to work at the Ledger, but as Clara isn’t all that interested in being a grunt for the local paper, she decides to join Lana instead.

“Sucks to be you,” Pete says, with no trace of pity in his voice. “I’ll be serving the community by lifeguarding the girl’s swim class at the Y instead of hanging out with the denture crowd.”

“Thanks Pete,” Clara remarks dryly. Personally, she prefers to read to the elderly than being a pervert; it’ll be far more satisfying, she imagines.

“Hey, I gave you a ride here, didn’t I?” he points out.

“Only because you wanted to show off your car.”

Pete unrepentantly shrugs before attempting to smile at an old man who’s walking past them.

“Hello, sir,” Clara greets with a far more genuine smile.

Just as Pete’s about to say farewell and take off, Lana appears before them, pushing a cart of books out of a room.

“Hey Clara, Pete,” Lana says happily. “I’m so glad you decided to volunteer here, Clara. Are you joining us too, Pete?”

“Uh nope, definitely not,” he replies. “Just giving Clara a ride.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” she says, before turning to Clara. “Who did they assign you to?”

“Cassandra,” Clara answers.

Lana slowly nods. “She’s an interesting woman. Some of the nurses say she can see the future.”

“Really?” Clara can’t deny that she’s more interested in meeting Cassandra now. Considering everything else she’s seen in Smallville, a seer of sorts could be entirely possible.

Pete appears to be on the same wavelength as he decides to tag along with Clara as she heads towards Cassandra’s room.

Cassandra is an elderly woman, her hair tucked neatly into a bun and wearing dark sunglasses that hide her eyes. As they look in on her from the doorway, she turns towards them.

“It takes two of you to read to me now, does it?”

Pete and Clara exchange startled glances.

“Don’t just stand there. Come in,” she bids, as she takes off her sunglasses.

They slowly enter the room and walk towards her.

“How’d you know there were two of us?” Clara asks.

“Well I’m blind, not deaf.” She chuckles. “I heard your friend’s shoes squeaking all the way down the hall.”

The two of them glance down at Pete’s new sneakers before looking back up.

“Can you really tell the future?” he eagerly asks.

Clara rolls her eyes. “Way to go, Pete. Real subtle,” she reproachfully mutters.

The look Cassandra shoots them makes it clear she’s heard such questions many a time before. “What’s your name?”

“Pete Ross,” he answers with an apologetic smile.

“Mr. Ross, if you want your fortune told, go to the circus.” As she says so, her Braille book slips from her lap and falls to the floor.

Both Clara and Pete bend down to pick it up, but Pete holds his arm out.

“I got it,” he tells her, before grabbing the book and handing it to Cassandra. She reaches for it, but instead of the book, she grasps his hand in both of hers.

“Oh!” she exclaims softly, before telling him, “It’s a long walk home, Mr. Ross. Check your pockets.”

Pete does, only to freeze as he realizes he can’t feel his car keys.

“Oh man… I locked my keys in the car!” As Pete bolts from the room, Clara looks at Cassandra in amazement. Cassandra just smiles knowingly – and with a bit of a satisfaction – as she rises from her chair.

“Now… what’s your name?”

Clara smiles. “Clara. Clara Kent. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Carver.”

“Cassandra, please,” she says, before she gestures for Clara to pick a book to read.

She hasn’t been reading for long when Cassandra suddenly starts to cough.

“Are you alright?”

“Water, plea-” she breaks off to continue coughing.

Clara gets up and grabs the glass of water from a nearby table. She gently places the glass in Cassandra’s hands, but when Cassandra’s fingers touch Clara’s, she drops the glass and it shatters on the floor. Cassandra doesn’t react to the shattering of glass or the water wetting her feet; instead, her eyes widen in shock moments later.

“Are you alright?” Clara asks from where she’s bent over, picking up the broken glass and mopping up the water. “Do you need the nurse?”

Cassandra reaches out and touches Clara’s face, her fingers tracing over her jaw. “Someone close to you is going to die… very soon,” she says cryptically.

Clara can’t help the gasp that escapes her, and she bites her lip in confusion and worry. She wants to believe Cassandra is making it up, except she knew Pete had locked his keys in his car, and there’s no way she could’ve known that unless she has powers of some kind. She almost wants to order Cassandra to take it back, but there’s a certainty to the expression on Cassandra’s face mixed with one of sadness and resignation, that stays the words. Instead, Clara distractedly throws away the broken glass and wet tissue paper into the garbage can before saying a quick goodbye and backing out of the room.

***

Clara hurriedly zips home, Cassandra’s words ringing in her ears. She heads straight for the barn, intending to hide out in the loft, only to see her parents cutting a piece of wood with an electric table saw. Although both of them are wearing safety goggles, only Martha is wearing protective gloves.

Clara pulls the plug from the wall, causing the saw to stop. As Jonathan pulls the wood out to see what’s wrong, she says, “Guys, when you need this kind of stuff done, just ask me. That’s what I’m here for.”

Martha removes her safety goggles. “Is something bothering you, Clara?”

“No, I just think we should start putting safety first,” she says somewhat exasperatedly. “If you haven’t noticed, this stuff is pretty dangerous.”

Jonathan exchanges a quizzical glance with Martha before saying in amusement, “Well, this is a farm. It kind of goes along with the territory.” He too pulls his goggles off before blowing the sawdust off them. “Seriously, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Clara reluctantly sits down. “When I was at the retirement center, I met this old blind lady. I know this sounds crazy, but she can see the future.”

“What did she tell you?” Martha asks.

“That someone very close to me will die soon.”

Jonathan sighs and shoots her a look of exasperation. “Listen, Clara. You can’t let some old… lady scare you with a half-baked prediction. I mean, she probably just does it to scare the nurses anyway.”

As he heads over to the wall to plug in the table saw again, Clara argues, “She told Pete he’d be walking home. Seconds later he realized that he’d locked his keys in his car.”

“No one can tell the future,” Martha tells her.

“What if she can?” she exclaims. “Is that so crazy considering everything else we’ve seen in Smallville? And what if she told me because there’s something I can do about it?”

The identical looks of disbelief only increase Clara’s frustration. Martha points out with a shrug, “Then she should have given you a little more information, like name, time, and place.”

“And even if – and that’s a big if – she can predict the future, there’s nothing she can do to control it. Nobody can,” Jonathan adds, before turning on the electric saw again and resuming woodcutting.

Clara might have been more reassured had her parents not sounded so dismissive about her fears. Frustrated that they don’t believe her and aren’t taking her concerns seriously, she leaves the barn and heads into the house to get away from them.

She’s only just walked inside when the phone rings. To Clara’s surprise, it’s a completely panicked-sounding Lana on the line.

“What happened?”

“I lost Harry!”

“Who?”

***

Clara naturally calls Chloe for help, and the blonde insists they meet at the Beanery, claiming she does her best work when sufficiently caffeinated. Clara isn’t sure how true that is, but she’s eager for a distraction and Lana is all too willing for any sort of assistance she can get, so they readily agree to meet up at the café.

“It’s not your fault, Lana,” Clara reassures her again as they enter the Beanery.

Lana throws her hands in the air. “Do you know anyone else who’s lost an entire old person in a wheelchair?”

“No. That’s pretty impressive, even by Smallville standards,” Chloe quips.

Throwing Chloe a chastising look, Clara takes a seat beside Lana. “Maybe he was kidnapped,” she suggests.

“Who’d want to kidnap Harry? He’s just a harmless old man,” Lana points out.

“Maybe a koi turned into a piranha and ate him,” Chloe jokes.

Even as Clara sighs, she can’t quite hide her smile.

“You asked for my help. I’m just… thinking outside the box,” Chloe says, waving her fingers in the air.

“I like your theory,” pipes a male voice from the table in front of them.

Chloe turns around. “You know, you might want to work on your eavesdropping technique,” she snaps, annoyed.

“Sorry. I’m, uh, I’m new in town. I just heard this is where young people congregate.”

Lana’s eyebrow quirks and she tries to stifle her amusement. Chloe, however, isn’t as polite.   She mockingly says, “Yeah, we congregate here often.”

Clara smiles at him, attempting to smooth things over. “Hi, I’m Clara. The rude one’s Chloe, and this is-”

“Lana Lang,” he interjects. As they look up in surprise, he adds, “The nametag was a big clue.”

They look down and see that she’s still wearing her nametag from the retirement center.

“So, uh, good luck finding your missing old person,” he says before turning back around.

The three of them exchange uncomfortable glances, unwilling to speak and have it be overheard by the odd guy.

Just then, Zoe comes by with a mug of coffee. She places it on the eavesdropper’s table before quipping, “Enjoy your coffee. They brought it in by burro this morning.”

“Thanks honey. You’re a doll,” he says in reply, lifting the mug at her in a mock toast before sipping it.

Lana looks taken aback, but when Clara turns towards her, she just shakes her head.

Lana and Chloe opt to get their coffees to go, and the three of them walk around the Main Street of Smallville, trying to come up with reasonable theories as to how Harry just… disappeared. Chloe’s suggestions naturally involve every outlandish and convoluted conspiracy, and Clara can tell she’s trying to blame the meteor rocks without actually saying the words out loud since Lana’s present.

After Chloe suggests Harry fell into a sinkhole that lies under the koi pond, Lana gives them a tight smile.

“I should really return to the retirement center, see if there’s anything else I can do to help. I’ll see you guys later.”

Chloe shrugs as Lana leaves. “Was it something I said?”

Clara shoots her a look of exasperation and chastisement. Appearing a little ashamed, Chloe sighs. “Fine, I’ll do some digging.”

Seeing the time, Clara’s eyes widen. “Good, you do that. I gotta go, I’m late for my deliveries. See you, Chloe!”

With that, Clara runs towards home, and once she’s out of sight, zips back to the farm to deliver the weekly produce.

***

Lex is surprised to discover the full name of the man Clara and Chloe had been talking about. Dr. Steven Hamilton isn’t a household name by any means, but his credentials are rather impressive, despite having been kicked out of Metropolis University’s faculty.   That he’s now in Smallville selling junk of all things is rather curious.

Hamilton is certainly easy enough to track down. As Lex drives to his address in his black Ferrari, he passes a dilapidated stand with a sign that says “METEOR ROCKS $5.” He pulls into the driveway and looks around as he gets out. Spotting a barn with a car parked out front, he heads inside.

There are glass vials and beakers and other assorted lab equipment everywhere, and a shelf with meteor rocks that are tagged along with an eerie green liquid in a jar. Recalling Earl Jenkins’ ramblings about the green mist that had been used in Level 3, Lex reaches out a hand towards it when a voice calls out from behind him.

“Ah! Don’t! Touch that.”

When Lex turns around, he sees an older man holding a box and a clipboard.

“You’re not sterile and you’re not me.”

“My apologies, Dr. Hamilton,” Lex says sincerely.

“Ugh!” he says with clear disgust. “You don’t have a website, do you?”

Lex is rather taken aback. “Excuse me?”

Hamilton’s lips curl in distaste. “They’re usually the ones who track me down. Freaks with websites.”

“I’m just a fan.”

“Ah.”

Lex walks up to him and extends his hand. “Lex Luthor.”

Hamilton, of course, ignores it. Lex is too used to receiving such brush-off in Smallville to let it bother him.

“The billionaire’s son? Mineralogists don’t have fans.” Hamilton nods his head and gestures for Lex to follow him out of the barn. “Come on.”

“Most mineralogists didn’t handle the first Apollo moon rocks,” Lex points out.

“That was a lifetime ago when I was a respectable scientist.”

Lex picks up a test tube with another eerie green liquid in it. “You know, we may have a few things in common. I was kicked out of Metropolis University too.”

Hamilton gently takes the glass tube away as he says, completely unimpressed, “Uh huh.”

Lex’s lips tighten. “Ever since I found out about a medical condition I have, I’ve become very interested in your work, Dr. Hamilton.”

“And you think it has something to do with the meteors.”

“Isn’t that your theory? That meteors somehow alter cellular makeup? That sounds to me like research worth funding.”

Hamilton laughs derisively. “Yeah well, sorry, my funding is private and so are my results.”

“Your funding comes from tourists.”

“If you are so interested in meteorites, here, take one. Enjoy it. I have nothing else for sale.” He plunks a large meteor rock onto Lex’s palm.

Lex turns away and studies it carefully, before putting it back down onto the table. “When you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Hamilton watches Lex as he leaves, and sighs.

***

Clara always tries to make the Luthor Mansion her last delivery stop, as she likes to hang out with Lex afterwards. As long as she’s home for dinner, her parents don’t mind how she spends her time on her delivery days, and she likes to think Lex arranges his busy schedule to make sure he’s available when she comes by. And now that they’ve become friends again, she hopes to resume that state of affairs, though thanks to being grounded, she won’t be able to hang out with Lex as long as she’d like.

She’s pulling out the last of the produce when she hears and then sees a black Ferrari with the license plate LEX I skidding and speeding along the private road and then the driveway before coming to a stop just by her truck.

“You might consider rounding those curves at a speed that won’t actually break the sound barrier,” she tells him as he gets out of the car.

Lex, dressed impeccably as always, smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Clara, however, isn’t in the mood to joke around. “Seriously. You could get hurt.”

His gaze sharpens. “Is something wrong?”

Clara sets the last crate down near the kitchen entrance for the kitchen staff to pick up with a sigh before explaining, “I met this woman at the retirement center, and she can kind of see the future.”

She follows Lex as he makes his way inside.

“Yeah? She tell you your future?”

“Not exactly. She just said someone very close to me would…”

“Die?” he adds when she trails off.

Clara throws her hands in the air. “I know it sounds nuts, but when you talk to her, it’s like she really knows.”

“Come on, Clara,” Lex says dryly. “She knows when she has a good audience.”

She swallows down a sigh. “You sound like my parents.”

He tilts his head. “That’s gotta be a first,” he quips.

Not in a jovial mood, she just shakes her head as they enter his study. “Lex, I think this woman is the real deal,” she says as convincingly as she can.

He takes off his jacket and carelessly throws it on the back of his chair. “Then the question you’ve gotta ask yourself is… do you really wanna know the future?”

Clara pauses. “Don’t you wish you knew how it was all gonna turn out?”

She automatically reaches for the blue bottles of water sitting in an ice bucket on a small bar, and hands one over to Lex before claiming one for herself.

He twists it open. “Life’s a journey, Clara. I don’t wanna go through it following a road map.”

She acknowledges his point, but states again, “It still wouldn’t kill you to drive more slowly.”

Lex quirks his eyebrow. “Why? I have you as a friend. You’ve changed my future and made me beat the odds. More than once, as a matter of fact.”

Clara grabs his hand. “And I want to make sure that future is a bright and long one. Please Lex, I don’t want to lose you.”

Lex looks down at the hand wrapped around his before carefully pulling away and taking a long sip of water. Although he hasn’t actually physically moved away, Clara can’t help but feel like there’s suddenly an invisible barrier between them.

Inwardly scolding herself for making things awkward again, Clara clears her throat and steps back. “I should get going.”

“You never told me this woman’s name,” he says as she turns to leave.

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

“Maybe I’ll ask her for some stock tips,” he says almost mockingly.

Clara stops. She can’t quite hide the hurt she feels at that, and she looks away and swallows roughly. “Cassandra Carver.”

Lex watches as Clara leaves without another word before thoughtfully taking another sip of his water.

***

Despite her desire to sulk in the loft, Clara finishes the rest of her chores first. Once she’s done, however, all she can think about is Cassandra’s prediction. Clara decides she has to see Cassandra again, as she highly doubts she’ll even be able to sleep otherwise. And so, risking being grounded for even longer if she gets caught, she zips over to the retirement center.

When Clara enters, she’s startled to see Lana. She’s standing in front of a wall of photographs titled ‘YOUNG AT HEART,’ where the current photos of the senior residents are next to their childhood and adolescent photos.

“I don’t think that’s gonna help bring Harry back,” she tells her.

Lana starts. “Clara, what are you doing here so late?”

“I came to see Cassandra if she’s still up.” Clara sees that there’s an empty space next to Harry’s current photo. “What happened to Harry’s younger picture?”

“I don’t know,” Lana replies distractedly.

Clara shoots her a concerned frown. “Is everything okay?”

Lana fidgets with her hands. “I met with the administrator, you know, to tell them what I knew about Harry. The police were there.”

“Well, it’s a missing persons case. It’s not unusual.”

“Except that’s not the reason they were there. Harry Bollston’s real name is Harry Volk. He was a murderer, Clara.”

Her brows tick up in surprise. “A murderer? Why would they let someone like that stay here?”

“Because it happened 60 years ago, when he was 17. He served his time and I guess they figured he was just a harmless old man who moved back to his hometown to die.”

Clara can’t help but morbidly ask, “Do you know what happened?”

“Back in the 40’s, he was studying to be a concert pianist. He was up for a full scholarship to the Metropolis Conservatory. But his teacher recommended somebody else.”

“So he killed his teacher?” Clara asks, shaking her head in dismay.

Looking disturbed, she says, “No. He said the teacher killed his dream, so he killed the teacher’s dream. The man’s son.”

Clara can’t hide her horrified reaction at that. “You should let Chloe know. It might be important.”

Clearly eager to be able to do something, Lana nods and leaves. Clara stands in indecision for a beat longer before deciding to still go see Cassandra instead. There’s likely nothing she could contribute in their search for Harry, but for her peace of mind, she needs to see Cassandra.

***

The door to Cassandra’s room is open, and Clara hesitates. She can’t help but be fearful that she’ll learn something worse if she crosses the threshold, something she can’t unlearn or back away from.

The choice is soon taken from her hands as Cassandra looks up and asks, “Are you going to come in or not, Ms. Kent?”

She reluctantly enters. “How do you do that?”

“When one sense goes, the others get… heightened,” Cassandra explains with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I must admit, after yesterday… oh, I thought I’d never see you again.” She points to the chair by her bed. “Sit.”

Clara does as bid. “What you told me, I can’t get out of my head,” she confesses in a rush.

“Imagine how I feel! When it first started happening, I, uh, I thought it was a curse. I kept getting snapshots of things I- I couldn’t control.”

“When did they start?”

“When I first lost my sight,” Cassandra says without any hint of sorrow or anger. “It’s funny – I woke up that morning like any other. Then the meteors came. One hit a field behind my house. The flash burnt my optic nerves.”

It’s not nearly enough, but all Clara has are apologies. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Clara winces, knowing the truth, but she can’t say a word.

“It’s amazing how one moment can change your life forever,” Cassandra muses.

“My friends and family, they think that you’re…”

“A fraud, huh?” She chuckles in amusement. “People are afraid of the unknown, Clara. They only want to know if everything’s gonna turn out all right. I can’t guarantee that. What I can show you are signposts on your journey. What you do with them is up to you.”

Clara roughly runs her fingers through the ends of her hair. The disappointment and despair she’d felt when she’d opened her spaceship only to discover nothing inside it is still acute. “I’ve got so many questions in my life. I just want some answers.”

“Closer,” Cassandra beckons, patting the space on the bed next to her.

Once Clara sits beside her, Cassandra turns slightly to face her before extending her hand. “Now, take my hand.”

Clara doesn’t hesitate in taking her hand in her own. When nothing happens, she looks up, only to feel Cassandra’s hand beginning to shake. Before Clara can do or say anything, she sees a bright flash. The lights clear and she finds herself kneeling in a graveyard as thunder crashes and lightning flashes. She’s soaked almost immediately from the pouring rain.

The gravestone in front of Clara has ‘In memory of Jonathan Kent. Beloved Husband and Father’ engraved on it. The gravestone next to it has ‘In memory of Martha Kent. Beloved Wife and Mother.’ The lightning, thunder and rain continue their deluge as Clara looks around wildly. She sees another gravestone, this time with ‘Chloe Sullivan.’ More lightning flashes and when she turns again, headstones with ‘Peter Ross’ and ‘Lana Lang’ are seen. As Clara cries out, “No! No!” she finds herself in the center of a seemingly never ending mass of graves, which spiral out from her as far as her eye can see.

As she screams “NOOOOOOO!” in anguish, the scene fades out in another bright flash, and Clara finds herself back in Cassandra’s room at the retirement center.

“No!” she cries out in distress. She yanks her hand away and leaps off the bed.

“You saw that too?”

Too devastated to care about possibly revealing herself and her secret, Clara super speeds out of the room.

Cassandra calls after her but to no avail. In the end, she can’t do anything but put her face in her hands and groan.

***

By the time Clara returns home, both of her parents are asleep. Knowing she won’t be able to get any rest and unwilling to wake them, she paces around the loft and tries to calm down. Still, despite her best efforts, what she’s seen is too terrible and she can’t bear to wait until morning. She rushes back into the house and frantically knocks on her parents’ bedroom door until they wake, and she breathlessly tells them of the vision she’d seen.

“Clara, maybe you were having some kind of a hallucination,” Martha says, trying to comfort her.

“It wasn’t a hallucination,” she insists. “It was a glimpse of the future – my future.”

“And you saw an endless graveyard?” Jonathan asks.

“Like I was the last person on earth.”

He can’t help but scoff as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Look, sweetheart… I don’t know what you did or didn’t see, but come on – you gotta consider the source.”

“Your dad’s right. We don’t know anything about this woman,” Martha echoes.

“I know she lost her vision in the meteor shower!”

“Oh, uh, and that makes it so she can predict the future?” Jonathan remarks sarcastically.

“Is it so crazy? I get engulfed in an explosion and I’m fine. I walk through fire and get hit by a car and I’m okay. What’s next?”

Martha squeezes her hands. “You can’t let this one image – whatever it means – consume your whole life.”

“What if it is my destiny? To outlive everyone that I love? I don’t wanna be alone!”

As Clara turns away from them in despair, Martha sighs. Exchanging worried looks with Jonathan, she steps closer to her in an attempt to offer comfort.

“Clara… I don’t know what your future holds-”

She whips back around. “I think this woman has the answers,” she says, hoping desperately that that might be true.

“The only person who controls your destiny is you,” Jonathan tells her firmly.

Frustrated her parents aren’t getting it and aren’t even trying to understand, Clara snaps, “Well right now, I don’t feel like I have control of anything.”

As she storms out of the house using super speed, Martha and Jonathan can only exchange looks of concern.

***

When pacing around her loft once again does nothing for her, Clara takes to zipping about Smallville. It’s late enough – or rather, early enough – that no one else is about, and she has free reign to go as fast or as slow as she pleases.

On her fifteenth circuit around town, it hits her that there’d been one name she hadn’t seen on a tombstone: Lex. She knows her father would say that’s clearly a sign that he isn’t important to her, but Clara knows that’s not true. She doesn’t know just how or why, but despite only knowing him for a couple of months, he’s become just as important to her as Chloe. So while she doesn’t know what it means that she hadn’t seen his tombstone in the vision, it comforts her nonetheless.

Feeling a sudden urge to see Lex, Clara speeds over to the mansion and unceremoniously barges in. Lex and his staff are, naturally, asleep, but while she does feel guilty for waking them up at such a late – or really early – hour, she’s too eager to see Lex for herself that it doesn’t stop her. Thankfully, his staff are too professional to say anything, and as for Lex himself, despite clearly having been woken up from sleep, he still looks perfectly put together.

Her relief at seeing him quickly fades when he asks, “Clara, what brings you here so late?”

“Uh, I…” Clara trails off, realizing she really hasn’t thought this through. She can’t tell Lex about the vision because her fear that she might live forever won’t make any sense to him, or conversely will reveal far too much.

It hits her then what a terrible mistake she made in coming to see Lex in the middle of the night, and she inwardly berates herself for being so weak and pathetic that she’s put her very secret at risk.

“Clara? Is everything alright?” he asks. He moves closer, clearly concerned.

She looks away, feeling the full force of her recklessness. What must he think? “Sorry, just... had a bad dream,” she finishes lamely.

Lex clearly doesn’t believe her. “A bad dream?”

Clara blinks, and it’s like she’s back in that endless graveyard all over again. She shakes her head but she can’t shake the image.

“I just… I needed to see you,” she says, her voice a hoarse whisper.

He must see how desperate she is, how shaken she feels, for he doesn’t press her to tell him anything. Instead, Lex carefully pulls her towards him and draws her into an awkward hug. He’s clearly not sure of what to do, but his tentative touch grounds Clara.

As she desperately clings to him, only just managing to control her strength, her body trembling with terror and despair, Lex tightens his embrace and holds her closer. Being in his arms makes her believe that even if everyone else she loves leaves her, she’ll still have Lex. It’s not enough, not nearly enough to console her, but the thought that she might not be alone is enough that she feels like she can breathe for the first time since she saw that horrible vision.

Clara would’ve happily remained in his arms for forever, except Lex’s curiosity and concern are nearly palpable. Knowing he has questions that he’ll expect answers to, that she’s not yet ready to answer – if she ever will be – she pulls away.

“Thanks Lex,” she says, keeping her gaze turned away, unable to look at him. “Sorry I woke you and everyone else up in the middle of the night.”

“Clara-”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I just had a terrible dream but I’m okay now and I should really get back home. I’ll see you later, okay?”

With that, she hurries away before he can say another word.  

***

Although there’s no physical sign of her exhaustion, mentally Clara feels like she is on the verge of collapse. While she knows her parents would let her stay home if she asks, she doesn’t want to deal with their skepticism or risk being home in case Lex comes by to confront her.

So she forces herself to go to school.

It’s obvious to her friends that she’s not herself, and Chloe has to repeatedly snap her fingers in front of Clara’s face to get her attention. When the blonde eventually demands she stop by the Torch office after the last class of the day, Clara readily agrees, if only to postpone going home.

“Chloe, what-” Clara is stopped short when she sees Lana sitting in front of Chloe’s Wall of Weird.

“She’s not here yet,” Lana says. She doesn’t at all look happy.

“Lana, what are you doing here?”

“Chloe called me too. She said she had some info on Harry. When I got here, I started looking around.” She gestures at all the articles and photos pinned up on the wall in disbelief. “Found this. This wasn’t here when I was briefly made the editor of The Torch.”

“Chloe probably took it down.” Clara carefully sits next to her. “She calls it the Wall of Weird. It’s what she used to write that article that got her fired as the editor. She believes everything freaky in Smallville started with the meteor shower.”

“How about you, Clara? Do you believe that?”

She hesitates before admitting, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Lana nods, then walks closer to the wall. “Does that include me?” she asks angrily. “I’m up there with a 3-headed calf and the monster from Crater Lake.”

The paper Lana points to is the cover of Time Magazine, where a photo of a crying 3-year-old Lana in a pink fairy princess costume is captioned with ‘Heart Break in the Heart Land.’

“The stuff on this wall… it has nothing to do with you,” Clara reassures her.

“Remember when you said people keep their darkest secrets hidden?”

She nods.

“Mine’s out there for all the world to see. It’s hard when everyone knows your tragedy. They treat you differently, like you’re gonna break.”

Clara is about to say otherwise when she recalls that Lana is treated like the princess of Smallville. Perhaps that’s because of her tragic past.

“I’m sure they just feel bad and wanna help.”

“I know. But all they do is remind you of the most painful moment of your life. How would that make you feel, Clara?”

Clara can’t help but understand. “Like I wish I could go back and erase that moment from time forever.”

Lana chuckles bitterly. “I thought high school would be different, that I could finally start putting it behind me. But everywhere I go… there it is. Maybe I should just accept my destiny. All I’m ever gonna be is a little girl in a fairy princess costume who lost her parents.”

“I don’t see you that way,” she says reassuringly. “And I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

As Lana shoots her a small, sad smile before leaving the Torch office, Clara unhappily watches her go. She turns back to look at the Wall of Weird, and suddenly she can’t help but picture her image up there, right in the center of it all.

Shuddering, Clara too flees the office.

***

Although it’s December, the sun is out and the temperature is quite balmy and so many a resident of the retirement center are seated outside on the picnic tables in the garden, though the staff make sure they’re more than properly bundled up. Cassandra is one of them, and she’s reading the Braille edition of the Daily Planet when Lex approaches her from behind, twisting a small flower he’d picked from one of the plants between his fingers.

“Cassandra Carver?” he asks almost hesitantly.

“Do those expensive shoes come with a name?” she asks as she flips to the next page of the paper.

He glances at his custom leather shoes before saying with a wry smile, “Lex Luthor.”

He sets the flower down next to her newspaper before walking around the table to stand opposite her.

“Oh. Of Luthor Everything Incorporated?”

His lips twitch in bemusement. “More or less.”

“And what does the savior of Smallville want with an old blind woman?”

“You seem to have made a real impression on my friend Clara.”

“So you came to see for yourself?”

He gives a minute shrug before taking a seat. “Clara’s not stupid. If she says you know things, there must be something that made her think that.”

Cassandra takes off her sunglasses. “What gives me the feeling you’re not here for stock tips, Mr. Luthor?”

“Please, call me Lex,” he says, leaning across the table. “I was hoping you could give me some insight into Clara.”

“And you call her a friend, do you?”

Lex isn’t deterred by her accusation. “She saved my life, but she’s also a mystery.”

Cassandra chuckles. “Most people are. That’s what makes them interesting.”

“I’m willing to treat this as a professional service.”

She shakes her head. “Save your money, Lex. I can’t tell you about Clara… even if I wanted to.” She holds out her hand instead. “I can only tell the future of the person I touch. What do you say, hmm?”

Looking slightly taken aback, Lex scoffs in disbelief before leaning away, to ensure she can’t accidentally touch him. “I don’t need to know my future.”

“Why? Because your father already has it mapped out for you?”

He says somewhat sharply, “I believe we make our own destiny.”

“And don’t you want a glimpse of... what it is you’ll make? Maybe I’ll see your friend Clara… or maybe I’ll see something else.”

Lex stares at her intensely for a long moment. “Goodbye, Ms. Carver. It’s been enlightening.”

His tone indicates anything but. As he rises from the table and heads towards the exit, Cassandra calls out, “Come back again, hmm? When you’re ready.”

Lex continues to walk towards the exit without looking back or even acknowledging that he’s heard her.

***

“Clara, we got your message,” Chloe says as she clambers up the loft stairs.

“Hey where were you?” Pete asks. “What happened? I thought we were all supposed to meet in the Torch office.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blow you guys off.”

“Where’s Lana? Is she joining us?”

“No. Lana saw her picture on the Wall of Weird and…” Clara shrugs.

Chloe frowns. “It has nothing to do with her.”

Clara shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a photo of her that was taken on the worst day of her life on the wall with all the freaky things of Smallville. How would that make you feel?”

The blonde blows her hair out of her eyes. Looking equal parts guilty and indignant, she capitulates. “Fine, I’ll take the magazine cover down.”

“Thanks,” Clara says gratefully before pointing at the newspaper tucked under Pete’s arm. “What’ve you got?”

Clearing his throat, Pete unfolds the newspaper. “A guy was found dead in his house. He was blindfolded and strangled with a piano wire.”

“Which is the same signature Harry Volk used in 1945,” Chloe adds.

Clara studies the paper. “Sounds like a copycat.”

“A copycat of a murder that happened 60 years ago, 2 days after the original killer happened to disappear? I don’t think so.”

Clara hands the paper back to Pete. “Harry’s in a wheelchair, Chloe. Not exactly in a prime condition to go on a crime spree.”

She shows her a yellowed page of an old newspaper. “Well, I found this picture of Harry from the 40’s.”

Clara’s eyes widen in surprise. “It looks like the guy we saw in the Beanery!”

“Maybe he’s got a grandson or something,” Pete says.

“Or… maybe it’s Harry,” Chloe suggests.

“I don’t think we should start looking for time machines just yet,” Clara points out.

Chloe huffs. “Okay, fine. Where do you think we should start?”

Clara grabs her jacket. “If someone is following in Harry’s footsteps, maybe they sent him some fan mail.”

*** 

Despite missing a resident, there isn’t any increased security at the retirement center, so it’s easy enough for the three of them to sneak in. The most important part, Chloe tells them, is to act like they’re supposed to be there – though how that’s supposed to work when it’s after visiting hours and they’re clearly several decades too young to be the residents of the place, Clara doesn’t bother to ask.

“What happens if someone sees us searching Harry’s room?” Pete asks worriedly.

“How about we don’t get seen?” Clara suggests.

Chloe and Pete both throw her looks of exasperation. As if to underscore their point, a voice calls out, “Clara, is that you?”

They freeze and turn as one to see Cassandra standing near a sitting area just down the hall to their right. Clara wants to pretend she hasn’t seen her beckoning her over, but not only is that highly rude, Cassandra could call a staff member and get them all into trouble. Reluctantly, she starts heading towards Cassandra, even as she whispers, “Harry’s room is down that hallway. I’ll meet you there.”

“You left in a hurry the other night,” Cassandra remarks when Clara nears, before gesturing at the chairs.

As Clara reluctantly sits down, Cassandra takes the chair across from her and clears her throat. “I, uh, I hoped you’d come back.”

“I’m sorry,” Clara says shamefacedly. “But you saw that… whatever it was.”

Cassandra takes off her sunglasses. “I always see them. The question is, how did you?”

Clara’s brows furrow. “I don’t know. Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“Nobody ever has.”

She shakes her head. “Why me?”

“Because, we both know…” Cassandra lowers her voice. “You’re not like other people.”

Clara startles, but the denial is instant, reflexive. “Sure I am.”

“No Clara. I’ve seen you, before we ever met. More than once I’ve touched people, and I’ve seen such… pain and despair. But then you were there, and… the pain was gone.”

As Clara looks taken aback, Cassandra declares, “I think that’s your destiny, Clara. To help people. To save them from fear and darkness.”

Much as her friends and family joke about Clara’s heroic tendencies, Clara herself has never believed it. Yes, she’s always tried to help whenever she’s come upon those in need of assistance however she can, because not doing so had been unthinkable. To purposefully go and seek them out and use her powers to what, help…? That seems dangerous and terrifying, and impossible.

“How?”

“Well, that’s for you to figure out. You can fear the future, or… you can embrace it.” She extends her hand. “The choice is yours.”

Clara looks at the proffered hand and then back up at Cassandra, before finally reaching forward and gently grasping it with her own.

A series of images rapidly unfold. A screaming young blonde woman is being attacked. There’s an overturned car on fire, and a child clutching a teddy bear trapped in a burning house. The young blonde woman grasps at her throat then lies in the street, her face filled with fear. An injured man is trapped beneath an overturned car. Glass shatters, and there’s a close-up of a silver unicorn pendant. The flames of a burning house with the child inside climbs higher, and the young blonde woman looks scared.

Clara breathes out sharply as she lets go of Cassandra’s hand. “Who are they?”

“People who need your help.”

Her brows furrow. “How am I supposed to help them if I don’t know where they are?”

Cassandra retorts, “I’m not a radio – I don’t pick up continuous transmissions. That’s all I have.”

She bites her lip before straightening up and saying determinedly, “I’ll figure it out.”

“Clara. Your secret is safe with me.” Cassandra gives a firm nod after, as though confirming her vow.

Oddly enough, Clara trusts her. Her lips quirk into a small smile before she leaves to join Chloe and Pete.

Thankfully, Harry doesn’t have many belongings, allowing the two of them to sift through things fairly quickly to find anything of importance. By the time Clara enters Harry’s room, Pete has finished going through Harry’s dresser drawers while Chloe is almost done examining a box of newspaper clippings.

“Any luck?”

Chloe shakes her head. “No fan mail. Just a bunch of old news clippings from the Smallville Ledger. Obituaries, articles-”

“The guy’s been obsessed with Smallville for 50 years,” Pete adds, putting back everything the way he’d found it.

Clara looks down at the articles Chloe hands her. The top one has the headline ‘Local Waitress Saves Customer With Heimlich Maneuver.’ Alongside the story is a picture of Zoe, holding a plaque honoring her good deed. But more importantly, Zoe is wearing the silver unicorn pendant she’d seen in Cassandra’s vision.

Realizing that Clara is staring intently at an article, Chloe asks, “Clara, is something wrong?”

“It’s her,” she says quietly.

“It’s who?” Chloe asks, standing up on her tiptoes, trying to see what Clara’s looking at.

Clara hurriedly puts the articles back in the box. “We should get out of here before we’re caught, and I gotta get home before my parents realize I’m not there and I’m grounded forever. Let’s research the Harry Volk angle tomorrow, okay?”

With that, she runs out of the room and sprints for the doors, leaving Chloe and Pete to stare after her in befuddlement.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” Pete offers.

***

As Clara had feared, she sees the young Harry lookalike wrapping a piano wire around Zoe’s neck when she arrives at the Beanery. She kicks the locked front door in and rushes inside, only to be stopped short as he whips around, yanking Zoe in front of him.

“Let her go!” Clara orders.

He grabs a large butcher knife from the counter and holds it up to Zoe’s throat. “Ah ah! Don’t move! Don’t move!”

Zoe whimpers, terrified, as he uses her as a shield to cross the room and escape. To his surprise, when he gets outside and is about to cross the alleyway, Clara suddenly appears in front of him. As he glances back in shock to where she had been standing mere moments earlier, Clara threateningly states, “I said, let her go.”

He glances down the street and sees a large delivery truck speeding their way.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your elders?” he snaps, before hurling the screaming Zoe out onto the street and directly in the path of the truck. As Zoe rolls over, she sees the headlights approaching and shrieks.

Even as the truck driver honks the horn and slams on the brake, Clara knows he’s going too fast to stop in time. She zips over to where Zoe is lying on the street and forcefully shoves her away from the path of the oncoming truck before getting out of the way herself. Zoe, having been shoved with enough force to roll over to the other end of the street, hits the wall of the storefront opposite though thankfully lightly enough that all she has are scrapes and bruises.

The driver finally manages to get the truck to come to a stop a few feet away with a screech of brake and burned smell of tires. He veritably leaps out from the cab.

“Oh no! Are you both all right?”

Clara helps a crying and bleeding Zoe to stand before handing her off to the driver.

“Take care of her,” she tells him before rushing back to the alleyway to find the young man who’d tried to kill Zoe.

She scans the dark alley, but except for large metal dumpsters, there’s no sign of him anywhere. When she uses her x-ray vision, to her surprise, she can’t see through the large dumpsters, although she can clearly see through everything else around her. Realizing the dumpers must be made of lead, she carefully approaches the nearest one. Just as she’s about to open it, he jumps out from behind her and plunges the knife into her back.

To his surprise, the blade immediately shatters as it hits her, sending pieces of metal flying in all directions and leaving him with just the handle. Clara quickly recovers from yet another show of her invulnerability and grabs his arm and throws him into the air and towards a parked car, with enough force that when he lands on its roof on his back with a shout of pain, the windows shatter and the tires blow out. He groans weakly before losing consciousness.

***

As Clara and Jonathan sit at the kitchen table, the former grasping a mug of hot chocolate as though it’s a lifeline while the latter takes a fortifying sip from his, Martha hangs up the phone and joins them.

“Zoe’s going to be okay.”

Clara looks at her in relief.

“Is that kid in jail?” Jonathan asks.

“No, he’s in the hospital overnight for observation.”

Clara fidgets with the mug as she asks, “Does Zoe know why he wanted to kill her?”

Martha shakes her head. “She’s just grateful you happened to come along.”

“Is that what you told the police?”

“I figured they wouldn’t want to hear I got a vision from an old blind lady,” Clara says dryly.

Jonathan looks at her, aware that’s directed at them for their earlier doubts about her claims regarding Cassandra.

“I’m not sure how I feel about Cassandra,” Martha says slowly.

“Mom, she’s my friend. All she’s done is try to help me.”

“You don’t think she knows your secret?” Jonathan asks.

She turns to him before looking down in silent confirmation. Jonathan and Martha exchange alarmed looks.

“I don’t think you should see her anymore,” he tells her.

“If I hadn’t gone to see her, Zoe would be dead,” Clara retorts.

“Your destiny may be to protect people but ours is to protect you, and that’s gotta come first, okay?” Jonathan says sternly.

Clara opens her mouth to argue when the phone rings again. This time it’s Lex, who asks her to come to the mansion after school. Afraid that he may spill something that will get her into more trouble with her parents, Clara reluctantly agrees.

Jonathan naturally frowns, but neither of her parents forbids her from going to see him. Clara is at least glad that she has the perfect excuse to leave if – when – Lex starts to ask questions she can’t answer.

When she arrives at the mansion the next day, rather than his study, Lex leads her to a room on the third floor. As they enter, the floodlights flip on. The room is empty except for a battered blue Porsche – dented, with a hole in the windshield – sitting in the center.

“Is this the Porsche from- I don’t understand. Why do you still have it?”

Lex circles the car. “I once read about a rich man who survived a hotel fire. He hung onto the ledge for an hour before the fire department rescued him. Afterwards, he bought the hotel. Always stayed in that room. When they asked him why, he said he figured fate couldn’t find him twice.”

Clara looks up from where she’s examining the car. “I thought you didn’t believe in fate.”

“I don’t.” He comes around to stand next to her. “But every time I look at this car, I wonder.”

Lex studies her for a long moment. “Do you remember anything about the accident?”

That’s not the question she’d been expecting. Clara had been sure he was going to ask her about what had happened the other night. Almost relieved, she turns and easily meets his gaze. “No, just that I pulled you out.”

“What about with Earl Jenkins? How did you pull us both up?”

Clara shrugs. She doesn’t know how she’d managed that feat considering how weak and in pain she’d been. “Adrenaline, I guess.”

“I thought you might be able to tell me more,” he says, looking rather disbelieving.

“I’m sorry.” That, at least, is completely sincere.

Lex’s lips quirk up. “It’s a little strange to be walking around when I should be dead. An unsolved mystery, I guess.”

“Maybe fate has something else in mind for you.”

He looks at her in bemusement. “You’ve been spending too much time with your friend Cassandra.”

“Well, at least she doesn’t dwell on the past.”

As Lex tenses and his gaze turns cool, Clara shoots him a look of apology before saying gently, “Lex, you’re alive. The question you need to ask yourself now is, where do you go from here?”

He turns back towards the car, considering what Clara has said.

Before he can ask anything else, she walks up to him and squeezes his arm comfortingly before she leaves, citing her need to head over to the retirement center to complete her community service hours.

When she looks back, she’s not surprised to see that he’s still staring at the ruined Porsche.

***

“The police questioned Harry all morning,” Lana tells her as they walk along the bridge over the heated koi pond at the retirement center. “He said he was kidnapped by this kid who was obsessed with his old case.”

“So somehow, in broad daylight, this kid got out of handcuffs, smuggled Harry inside, and chained him to a bed?” she says disbelievingly.

“That’s the official story.”

Clara shakes her head. “It may be official but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“You could always add it to the Wall of Weird,” Lana remarks rather sharply.

Before she can point out that it’s not her Wall and that she doesn’t appreciate being accused like that, a familiar pang of nausea hits Clara. She looks down into the pond and sees the koi swimming around a group of meteor rocks.

“Clara, are you all right?” Lana asks, looking worried.

“Think I ate something bad for lunch,” she says, trying not to stumble as she backs away. Clutching her stomach, she says, “I’m gonna go inside. Listen, can you do me a favor? Keep an eye on Harry for me, okay?”

With that, she walks back towards the building as Lana looks on in concern.

***

When Clara enters Harry’s room, she sees that he’s lying in his bed with his eyes closed, enjoying the classical music emanating from the record player. She removes the needle and turns to him.

“You know, I found a picture of Zoe Garfield in a box under your bed,” she tells him almost conversationally.

“And who are you?”

“Clara Kent, but we’ve already met,” she says as she crosses the room towards the window.

“How dare you go through my belongings!” he says indignantly, once he realizes what she’d just said.

Clara looks outside and doesn’t bother to turn to face Harry. “How do you explain the pictures?”

“Why do I need to explain it?”

She turns around and grabs a chair next to his bed. She sits down and calmly stares at him. “You know what, Harry? I think you and this kid are the same person.”

He smiles. “I’d say you have a very active imagination.”

“I don’t know how you did it, but I know it’s you.”

Harry falters before saying, “You said your name was Kent? Grandfather Hiram, father Jonathan? Funny, I don’t remember you on the family tree.”

Clara just continues to stare at him calmly, not reacting to his words. “I’ll be watching you,” she says at last.

He chuckles nervously, and not taking his eyes off of her, he stretches out his hand until he finds the remote and presses the call button.

“Nurse, nurse. Help me, somebody. Help.”

She continues to stare at him unblinkingly, and he grows ever more frantic. As a nurse enters the room, he takes on the posture of someone in pain.

“Oh nurse, she’s harassing me. Haven’t I been through enough?” he says weakly.

Clara continues to stare, not at all fooled by his act.

The nurse looks at Clara and then at Harry, before turning back to her. “I think you should leave, young lady.”

She gets up, still not taking her eyes off of him. “Don’t worry, I’m going.”

Harry only closes his eyes when Clara finally leaves his room.

***

“This is everything I could find on Harry Volk,” Chloe says with a sigh as she lets a large stack of newspapers thunk down onto the desk. “The Ledger carried stories on the trial, the murder, the investigation… you name it.”

“Is anybody watching this guy?” Pete asks.

“Lana’s got an eye on him,” Clara answers as she rifles through the old issues of the Ledger Chloe hands her.

Chloe and Pete exchange a glance, acknowledging that neither of them have much of a faith in Lana and her ability to keep tabs on a murderer, even if he is a wheelchair-bound old man.

“I heard that,” Clara says without looking up, causing Chloe and Pete to stifle amused smiles.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Pete asks eventually, closing the cabinet and crossing the office towards them.

“I dunno. There’s gotta be a connection between the people Harry’s going after.”

“In Zoe Garfield’s statement to the police, she said that Harry accused her grandmother of killing his future.”

Just as Pete sits down and pulls the remaining few old issues of the Ledger towards himself, Chloe’s cell phone rings.

“It’s Lana,” she says, looking at the caller ID, before answering the phone and putting it on speaker.

Sounding distressed, Lana says, “Harry’s gone. They found his wheelchair in the koi pond.”

“I saw meteor rocks in that pond,” Clara says, her eyes wide as she looks at Chloe. “You think that’s how-”

“He’s doing the time warp?” Chloe finishes. “Hate to say I told you so-”

“What do you mean?” Lana asks.

Clara pauses before saying, “I’ll explain later, Lana. Thanks for all your help.”

When Chloe hangs up the phone, Clara turns to her. “We gotta figure out who he’s gonna kill next.”  

Pete hands over an old issue of the Ledger. “Clara, take a look at this.”

“What is it?” she asks as she accepts the paper.

“It’s a list of the jurors that worked on Harry’s trial.”

“Rudolph Gage, Eve Garfield…” Clara stands up. “He’s killing the descendants of the jurors that convicted him.”

“Talk about not letting it go,” Pete remarks.

Clara’s eyes widen as she studies the list more closely.

“Clara, what is it?” Chloe asks in concern.

“Look at juror number 11,” she says, handing over the paper.

“Hiram Kent. Wasn’t that your grandfather?”

“Harry’s gonna kill my dad.”

Clara runs out the door, ignoring Chloe and Pete’s calls after her.

***

When a strange young man in the uniform of a utility worker appears at the door, Martha opens it. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, got a report about a gas leak. You, uh, mind if I come in?”

“Gas leak?” Martha says, taken aback. “I- I don’t smell gas.”

“Your husband called about it earlier. Is… is he around?”

Knowing Jonathan wouldn’t have done so and not said a word to her, especially with what they have hidden in the storm cellar, her suspicion spikes. “He’ll be back shortly. Umm, where’s our regular gas man, Kurt?”

“Vacation,” Harry answers.

Martha nods. “Oh, that’s right. Um… Would you excuse me a minute?” With a polite smile, she shuts the door and then walks over to the cordless phone. She starts to dial as she moves away from the door and into the living room, only to be shocked as she hears nothing but static on the line.

To her surprise, the young man opens the front door, holding a length of piano wire in his hands.

“Kurt isn’t your regular gas man, is he Mrs. Kent?”

“Wha- what do you want?” she asks, her voice trembling in fear.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “To kill your husband.”

She gasps. “What did Jonathan ever do to you?”

“Nothing. But his father did,” he retorts with anger as he advances towards her.

Martha reaches behind her and fortunately is able to grab a flower vase. She smashes it over his head with enough force that he falls to the floor, stunned and in pain. She takes the opportunity to run out the back, grabbing her car keys on the way. Just as she’s unlocking the car door, she sees that she has flat tires, despite the fact that she’s only had this car for not even a week. Now feeling frantic, Martha looks around for a place to hide. Spotting the barn, she runs towards it, not looking back as Harry stumbles out of the house after her, clutching his head.

The once again youthful Harry Volk slowly wanders around the dark barn. Spotting a workbench, he heads towards it and knocks several things off it before finding a large machete knife on the table. He grabs it and holds it up, before blowing off the dust that’s on the blade.

“Come on, Mrs. Kent! I’m too old for hide and seek!”

Martha, who’s hiding inside an empty grain silo, stifles her gasp and shudders in fear.

Rather enjoying himself, Harry opts to prolong this encounter as payback to that insolent girl by sharpening the blade and building suspense. He turns on the electric knife sharpener, and carefully ensures the knife’s edge is sharp enough to cut through skin and bone like butter. He carefully blows the metal dust away before straightening up.

Martha, hearing the grinding, looks around for an escape route other than the door. Seeing a small, vented window close enough to climb out of, she approaches it, only to scream as Harry thrusts the knife through the vent.

“Jonathan!” she screams for help, despite knowing it’s futile.

To her horror, Harry opens the silo door.

“You can’t save him, Mrs. Kent.” He enters with the knife in hand, and firmly closes the door behind him.

Martha, rather than backing away, slowly approaches the chain hanging in the center of the silo. Harry flips the knife into the air and catches it, before holding it out to her. Before he can do anything else, she forcefully tugs on the chain, which causes the grain stored at the top to come spilling down onto Harry.

As he shouts and shields himself with his arms, losing the machete in the process, she tries to take advantage of the fact that he’s blinded to rush past him towards the door. Unfortunately she’s not quick enough, and Harry’s able to grasp her leg and pull her back towards him, causing her to topple onto the grain-covered floor. Even as Martha shrieks in surprise, she has the wherewithal to kick him in the stomach, making him tumble away from her.

Martha scrabbles over the rapidly mounting grain towards the door again, but once more Harry successfully catches her and pulls her back. Screaming, she begins to kick and punch him, but despite receiving several solid hits, he still manages to hang on to her. All the while, the grain unrelentingly rains down on them, until it eventually buries them. Harry struggles to hold onto her, but he soon loses consciousness. Martha does little better, coughing and choking on the grain dust, before she too slumps over, the tops of her red hair becoming buried under all the falling grain.

Jonathan is driving towards the farm when Clara suddenly appears on the gravel pathway in front of him. As he slams on the brakes, she hurries over.

“Clara,” he barks, but before he can start to chastise her, she interrupts him.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“What? I’m fine. What’s the matter?”

“Where’s mom?” she asks, belatedly realizing that Martha isn’t with Jonathan.

“I don’t know. What’s the matter with you?”

“Somebody’s trying to kill you,” she informs him.

Jonathan only looks at her in confusion. “What?”

But Clara is no longer paying attention. Instead, she scans the farm with her telescopic vision, and she spots the flat tires of Martha’s car.

“He’s already here,” she says worriedly.

Using her x-ray vision, she scans the entire farm and sees two skeletons inside the silo, one obviously female. They’re both buried, but the female form is still moving, though barely.

“No!” she cries out, before zipping towards the side of the silo and ripping open the door. Grain, which is no longer falling from the top, spills out all around her as Clara climbs inside and digs, trying to find Martha.

“Martha! Martha!” Jonathan yells as he assists in digging.

“Mom!”

They finally uncover her, unconscious and not breathing.

“Mom! Come on, mom!” she shouts even as Jonathan starts CPR. “Breathe!”

Thankfully, Martha soon begins coughing and gasping for air. Jonathan gently helps her sit up.

“Are you okay?” he says, clutching her tightly.

Martha grasps his face in her hands and gasps out, “You think… I’d ever leave you two alone?”

Clara rushes forward and Martha reaches out and embraces them both tightly.

“Cassandra was wrong, Clara,” she says, pulling back to look at her. “Nobody’s gonna die.”

Except that’s not quite true. Harry’s hand, which is sticking up from the grain, withers into an old man’s hand as he dies.

***

Cassandra is sitting at her desk, working on a puzzle as the sun streams into her room. She pauses and listens to the approaching footsteps, and looks towards the door as Lex strides in.

“Well… you’re the last person I expected to walk through my door,” she tells him as she reaches for her white cane and stands.

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, holding up a large bouquet of white roses.

Cassandra chuckles. “So did the Greeks.”

Lex grins and walks further into the room. “I wanted to take you up on your offer.”

“Hmm, I thought you controlled your own destiny.”

“I do. But certain things have happened in my life. Signs I don’t want to ignore.”

“What kind of signs?”

“I lived when I should have died. More than once, as a matter of fact. There must be a reason for that. You see, I don’t want to do good things. I want to do great things.”

“Well you don’t need me for that.”

“What’s the matter, Cassandra?” he says, slightly mockingly. “Are you afraid of what you’ll see?”

Her lips tighten in displeasure. “Sit,” she gestures sharply as she takes a seat in an overstuffed chair.

Lex pulls out the matching ottoman and sits across from her, still holding the flowers in his hand.

“You’ve been warned,” she tells him as she holds out her weathered hand.

Lex stares at her trembling hand in hesitation before reaching forward confidently and taking it.

Cassandra sees the presidential seal on the floor of the Oval Office. Lex, clad in a white suit, stands behind the desk. In a fast-forward, Lex walks over to the door leading outside, and he opens it and looks out. A flash and this time, Lex, still clad in his white suit, stands in the middle of a field of sunflowers with mountains in the background on a sunny afternoon. He leans down to smell the sunflowers, and reaches forward with his right hand clad in a black glove to caress the sunflower. As he does, the sunflower withers and dies, and soon the entire field has wilted and died, leaving Lex standing in a field filled with human bones. As Lex looks around him in bemusement, the sky blackens, lightning flashes, and thunder rumbles. Suddenly the clouds become blood red and start raining blood down on him. Lex holds out his arms by his sides, and only the right hand is clad in a black leather glove while the left remains bare. He looks up, almost as though confused, as the blood covers his face and his white suit.

Back in the retirement center, Cassandra’s eyes are wide and unseeing as she stares blankly ahead, not saying a word. Lex waits, until he finally can’t anymore.

Leaning forward, still holding onto her hand, he asks, “What did you see?”

Cassandra doesn’t answer. Her face remains unchanged.

Lex’s face loses all expression as he pulls his hand away. To his horror, Cassandra’s arm just falls limply by her side. He backs away, almost stumbling, the white roses still clutched in his hand. Realizing he’s holding on to the flowers, he drops them and slowly continues to back away.

“I need some help in here!” His voice sounds rough, panicked, and barely loud enough to be heard.

He can’t stop backing away from Cassandra’s dead body.

Lex rubs his hands on his black coat, as though he can feel the blood on them.

“Somebody!” he finally shouts as he rushes out of the room.

As a nurse comes in, Lex flees, still rubbing his hands on the front of his coat. He walks towards the windows overlooking the grounds and takes several deep breaths in an effort to calm down.

Clara enters the room as the nurse checks Cassandra’s pulse before closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry. She’s gone,” the nurse tells her.

Clara looks sadly at Cassandra’s body before her eyes widen. “She saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“Her future,” she replies forlornly.

Sighing with regret, Clara steps out into the hallway only to see Lex. She’s about to go the other way to avoid him, except she can see him almost trembling. It’s so unlike his normally confident demeanor that she finds herself approaching him before she can think about it.

“Lex? Are you all right?”

He looks up, clearly startled. Clara can see that his skin is almost chalky white and his pupils are blown. It doesn’t take her long to put the pieces together.

“Were you with Cassandra when she died?” she asks gently.

Lex almost jerks away. “I have to go.”

She follows him outside, unwilling to leave him alone in this state. As he fumbles for his keys, she gets between him and the car door.

“You’re in no condition to drive, Lex,” she tells him firmly, and holds out her hand for the keys. “I’ll take you home.”

For a moment it looks like he’ll refuse, and Clara readies herself to forcibly restrain Lex if necessary. She’s not about to let him drive himself home when he’s liable to get himself killed in his current state.

“You owe me a drive in one of your cars, remember? Well I’m cashing that in now,” she says in a stroke of brilliance, reminding him of the deal they’d made earlier.

Lips quirking, he acquiesces, and Clara gets into the driver’s seat of a Ferrari 348 Spider.

It’s only as she closes the driver’s side door that she freezes, suddenly realizing she’s sitting behind the wheel of an insanely expensive car. While she’s driven stick shift before, a rusted family truck is completely different from Lex’s luxury vehicle, and she’s nervous as all hell, terrified of wrecking it somehow.

“I killed her,” Lex whispers, and when she looks over, it’s clear he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“You didn’t,” she tells him.

He almost looks like he’s about to let that be, but then he adds, “She was seeing my future when she died. She hadn’t even wanted to see it-”

Clara is rather glad she hasn’t turned on the engine as she’s able to turn to face Lex instead.

“Lex, you can’t blame yourself for Cassandra dying. She was old, it was just her time.”

“How do you know that? How do you know it wasn’t seeing my future that killed her?”

She grasps his cold and clammy hands in hers. “Because she told me that someone who was close to me was going to die soon. She’d foreseen her own death, Lex. You just happened to come upon her at the worst possible time, that’s all.”

When Lex doesn’t look like he can bring himself to believe her, she leans forward and forces him to meet her eyes. “Your future won’t be terrible. I won’t let it. I saved you and changed your destiny more than once already, remember? Cassandra told me my destiny is to save people. Well, if that’s the case, then I'm going to save you.”

He looks at her with something like wonder. “Is that right?”

She nods. “We have a future together, remember?” she reminds him.

Lex smiles.

***

When Lex enters his study, the last thing he’s expecting to see is an envelope with the results from Dr. Vargas on his desk. He picks it up and hesitates briefly, but he’s not one for belaying any bad news. And considering everything that’s happened already, he doubts his day can get any worse.

Grabbing a letter opener, he slices open the envelope and reads the letter. The results are surprising and yet not at the same time. Crumpling it, he heads out.

Hamilton is scraping samples from a large meteor rock when Lex walks into the barn.

“Back for some more rocks?” he says mockingly.

Lex smiles. “Apparently I have a clean bill of health.”

“Congratulations. I guess that means you won’t be bothering me any more.”

“I couldn’t figure out why you were so resistant to accept my help. Then I had a friend do some digging. And here I thought you got kicked out of Metropolis University for your meteor theories, but apparently it was your student-teacher relations.”

Hamilton looks up at Lex. “Get out.”

Lex pulls an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “I want you to look at something.”

Hamilton looks at the extended envelope before reluctantly taking it. As he opens it, Lex says, “I don’t care about the past. I believe in the power to reinvent yourself. You want to prove to the world you’ve been right all along? That check should cover your vindication.”

Hamilton stares at the check for $100,000. He sighs. “What you’re looking for could take years.”

“I’m a patient man.”

As he’s walking towards the door, Hamilton calls out after him. “Tell me, why does a billionaire’s son care so much about a bunch of rocks that fell out of the sky 12 years ago?”

Lex stops but doesn’t turn around. “I save that story for the people I trust.”

With that, he heads out, leaving Hamilton to study the check.

“You’re not seriously thinking about accepting help from Lex Luthor?” Pete asks, entering from the back once he’s sure Lex has left.

Hamilton puts the check down on the table. “Didn’t he save your life?”

Pete defensively crosses his arms across his chest. “He was just saving his own ass. If you’re going to accept that,” he says, tilting his chin down at the check, “then our deal is over.”

Hamilton scoffs. “Hmm, a $100,000 that will allow me to buy everything I need to run any experiment I’d like, or your piecemeal information and useless skills as a lab tech?”

Pete scowls. “I told you everything I know.”

“Hey, feel free to walk out that door,” Hamilton tells him. “You know that the meteor rocks corrupt people – like your girlfriend – but if you’d rather thumb your nose at money that could potentially help the people of Smallville because of where it came from, that’s no skin off my nose.”

Pete’s fists clench at his sides. After a few moments of indecision, he asks, “Are you going to share what you find with him?”

“Perhaps. Depends on what I find.”

Pete knows there’s no other choice to be made, not if he wants to stop anyone else from suffering like Jodi. He exhales noisily. “Alright. I have another one to add to our collection. There was this old woman named Cassandra Carver…”

Chapter Text

Although enough time has passed that Clara no longer wakes up every night terrified and gasping for breath after yet another nightmare where she sees the endless graves that surround her, she still can’t help but obsess over it. Considering how every one of Cassandra’s visions have come true and how Harry’s knife had shattered against her skin rather than piercing through it, she thinks her fear that she really will live forever, watching as everyone she loves dies, is completely warranted.

The prospect is horrifying and lonely and devastating, and her only solace is Lex, whose name hadn’t been on any of the gravestones. She’s not sure how Lex will continue to live – he’s rich, so maybe he employs someone to invent something? Or maybe he gets into some kind of an accident that allows him to not age, like Jeremy. Or perhaps he’s like Cassandra and has gained a special ability in the aftermath of the meteor shower that allows him to not die.

Or perhaps her conjectures are all completely off base.

What matters is that she doesn’t need to know the specifics to be comforted. Just the knowledge that Lex isn’t in that endless graveyard is enough. Her parents try to console and reassure her, of course, but considering they hadn’t believed her when she’d told them Cassandra could see the future and had thought the horrifying vision Clara had seen had just been a hallucination, their efforts ring hollow. Being around Lex is a balm, however, helping to soothe the lonely and terrified ache she feels and prevents her from dwelling on her nightmarish future.

Unfortunately, Lex is… not necessarily standoffish or unwelcoming of her presence at the mansion, but certainly a little more distant after she’d comforted him following Cassandra’s death. She guesses it’s because he’s uncomfortable having shown her such vulnerability, or maybe because he isn’t satisfied with her paltry explanations. Or perhaps it’s both. She wishes she could tell him of the horrifying vision of her future, but she can’t. And so, in her more desperate moments when she can’t shake the image of the endless graveyard, she speeds over to the mansion and uses her x-ray vision to check that Lex is still there and breathing.

She knows it’s creepy and unhealthy, but when it gets that bad, nothing else keeps the anguish and terror at bay. She at least tries to do so only when absolutely necessary, and to her relief, those episodes have been happening less and less as the days pass, so that Clara has hope that maybe by the new year, they’ll stop altogether.

In the meantime, she tries to keep herself busy and occupied so that she doesn’t have time to dwell on the vision. She plans activities she can do with her friends during the Christmas break, and tries to come up with a convincing argument so that her parents will allow her to issue an invitation to her grandfather to visit the farm for the holidays.

Unfortunately her plans are quickly kyboshed.

Chloe apologetically tells her about her and her dad’s upcoming trip over the break. After the horrific ordeal Gabe and Chloe have suffered at Earl’s hands, Gabe has booked a vacation away from Smallville as Chloe’s Christmas present, and so the Sullivans will be leaving on the last day of school for New York City. Chloe, naturally, is thrilled, especially since they won’t be taking a trip anywhere in the summer thanks to her possible internship at the Daily Planet. And it turns out Chloe isn’t the only one who’ll be getting away – Lana will be going to the annual Winter Equestrian Festival with Nell, while Pete and his family will be visiting his oldest brother Mike who has recently moved to Florida. Getting away from the cold and the snow, not to mention being able to hang out on warm beaches with girls in bikinis, are all Pete can talk about. And as for her grandfather, he’ll be going on a cruise and won’t be back until the second week of January.

“I am sorry I won’t be seeing you for Christmas,” William says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but I hope my gift helps make up for it.”

“Gift?”

And as though that had been a cue, a special courier appears on their doorstep bearing a package for her.

“It’s your Christmas gift, but I want you to open it now.”

“You shouldn’t have, granddad,” she tells him. “You’ve already done so much-”

“Nonsense,” he says gruffly. “Besides, just because your parents are reneging on their end of the deal does not mean I intend to do the same.”

“What do you-” Clara falters as she sees what is in the package: a beautiful Christmas card with $1000 inside it. ‘For frivolous spending only’ is written and underlined.

“And I absolutely mean frivolous spending only,” he informs her.

Seeing Clara’s expression, Martha and Jonathan get up from the kitchen table and join her by the phone. They’re not pleased, to say the least, when they see the money.

“Granddad, this is too much!” she protests.

“Nonsense,” he says again. “You absolutely deserve it, especially since the money that was meant to be spent on you hasn’t been. Now, I want you to promise me that not a penny of that $1000 will go to your parents or to the farm.”

Clara has never held so much money in her life, and she is both utterly delighted and thoroughly uncomfortable at the idea of spending such a large sum.

“It’s just too much money, granddad. I don’t- I’m not sure-”

“You can open a bank account if you’d rather save it,” he interjects when it becomes clear she’s floundering. “I just want you to have money that you can spend as you please.”

In the end, she’s far too happy to argue any longer. She’s been trying to figure out how to talk her parents into increasing her allowance, and with this generous gift, she now no longer has to worry about it.

“Thank you so much, granddad,” she says, the sincerity and gratitude clear even through the phone.

William waves away her thanks before adding, “Knowing the value of money is important, Clara, and having such a sum at your disposal will teach you valuable lessons.”

Even her parents can’t argue with that, though she doesn’t doubt they’re gearing up to try.

After thanking him once more, they exchange fond goodbyes and wishes for a good Christmas and New Year’s.

The minute Clara hangs up the phone, her father starts. “Clara-”

She doesn’t let him continue. “I’m going to the bank!”

After displaying her first Christmas card from her grandfather on her desk in the loft, she carefully stuffs the envelope with the cash. Tightly holding onto the envelope, she then runs straight to the Smallville Savings & Loan to open her very first bank account.

If the employees are surprised to see a teenager walk into their bank holding an envelope full of cash, they don’t say anything. Instead, the teller Clara goes up to is incredibly helpful, pointing out the benefits and drawbacks of each saving and checking account options. In the end, she decides to open their student’s savings account, which will allow interest - however minimal - to accumulate while also allowing her to make 3 withdrawals per month without penalty.

By the time Clara returns home with a brand new bankcard in her wallet, her parents are ready and waiting for her.

“I’m not returning the money,” she says right off the bat. “It was granddad’s gift to me for Christmas-”

“It is a lot of money, Clara,” Martha interjects.

“I know that, and I have no intention of spending it all,” she replies somewhat sharply. “I opened a savings account and deposited $800-”

“You’re going to spend $200?” Jonathan says sharply. “That’s far too much money!”

Face twisted in anger, Clara exclaims, “So? I’m so sick and tired of worrying about every penny!”

Jonathan and Martha are clearly taken aback by her outburst. Clara breathes in deeply and tries to calm down. “I’ve always been careful with what little money I do have. I’ve never given you a reason to think I’m wasteful. But all of a sudden, now that granddad’s given me money, it all changes?”

Martha at least looks a little ashamed, but Jonathan doesn’t back down. “It’s different.”

“Why? Because it’s from granddad?”

Martha says gently but firmly, “Sweetheart, there may be expectations attached to that money-”

“How’s that different from any other family?” Clara argues. “Every parent hopes that their child will follow in their footsteps. You think I don’t know dad had hoped I would take over the farm one day?”

“That’s different!” Jonathan protests.

“How? Because you gave up that hope and granddad hasn’t yet?”

Neither of her parents have an answer to that.

“Stop putting me in the middle of whatever issues you guys have with him,” she bites out before storming off.

***

Clara finally understands what people mean by retail therapy when she goes shopping at the mall in Granville. With every item she buys, it’s like she’s thumbing her nose at her parents, especially because she’s still keeping an eye on the prices and isn’t buying anything extravagant or something she doesn’t need. Besides, it’s not all for herself – she’s looking for Christmas gifts too. For the first time, she not only has people she’s close enough to buy presents for, but thanks to her grandfather, the means to do so.

Although her grandfather had insisted she not get him anything for Christmas, Clara isn’t about to listen to him. Unfortunately, she honestly has no idea what to get since she doesn’t know anything about him beyond what her parents have told her, which is practically nothing and most definitely lacking in any personal details. In the end, she opts to go with a nice picture frame, deciding to send him a photo of herself with her friends, as she figures it’ll be better received than the one with her parents. She would’ve sent him his own copy of her scrapbook album he’d mailed back, but he’s already informed her that he’d made a copy for himself.

Clara is definitely looking forward to learning more about her grandfather come summer.

For Chloe, Clara finds a perfect gift within minutes of walking into the next store: two silver necklaces that each sport half a heart with the words 'best' and 'friend' engraved on them. Despite Chloe claiming she’s fine with Clara’s friendship with Lana, the blonde is probably still feeling some jealousy over it, and Clara thinks reassurance that they’re still best friends will be appreciated. She finds a gift for Martha in the same store too – a simple but elegant gold necklace that she can wear every day. And after browsing through a few stores, she decides on a pretty pink diary for Lana so she can jot down her thoughts and hopes and dreams, much like her mother had once done, so Lana can feel closer to her by doing so.

Pete is a little more difficult to shop for because he’s a guy and Clara doesn’t know him nearly as well, but she figures he may appreciate a photo of Jodi. It may be a little difficult finding Mr. Melville in Metropolis, but she figures Chloe can help with that if need be. As for her father, she picks a sturdy travel mug, knowing it’ll be appreciated since it’s actually useful, and a keychain with the words, ‘I’ll always be your little girl & you’ll always be my hero!’ engraved on it, because no matter how much they argue, that won't ever not be true.

The only person seemingly impossible to shop for is Lex, as the man is a billionaire who can buy anything and everything he wants. Anything Clara can get from a town mall will undoubtedly look cheap and trite in comparison. So she instead scours the mall for some kind of an inspiration to strike, but nothing really comes to mind. Clara finally gives up and instead heads for the food court, where she learns just why people enjoy fast food – the taste of all that salt and grease is somehow far more satisfying than she’d expected.

Her parents are naturally not happy seeing the bags she carts into the house, though they keep mum. Later, after an uncomfortably awkward dinner, Martha and Jonathan join her in the loft.

Clara keeps silent, refusing to be the first to break the tension. Jonathan eventually clears his throat before speaking.

“Listen, sweetheart, I know we don’t have a whole lot around here, but I never really thought it bothered you.” He can’t meet her gaze. “Or maybe I was just lying to myself.”

A pithy comment about how she’d indeed worn his hand-me-downs all these years as a bizarre fashion statement is peppery on her tongue, but she manages to swallow it down and instead says, “It’s always bothered me. More times than I care to admit.”

He nods at that, his figure one of resignation and defeat. “And I am sorry for that.”

Martha puts her hand on his back, and he draws strength from her touch. Breathing in deeply, he raises his head and looks into Clara’s eyes. “I want you to know your mother and I do trust you and your judgment.”

When Clara nods but doesn’t say anything, Martha moves away from the loft window and sits next to her on the couch. “As for your grandfather… Sweetheart, you know your father and I never meant to make you feel like we’re putting you in the middle of our issues with him.”

“I know, but you are.”

“And we’re sorry.” She reaches over to grasp her hands in her own. “The truth is, we just wanted to protect you. I grew up under the heavy weight of my father’s expectations and I know what it’s like to fail to meet them. I just didn’t want you to experience the same.”

“I get that, but I don’t think you guys are giving him – or me – enough credit.” Clara sits up straight for the first time since her growth spurts have started, refusing to hide her height by slouching. She then firmly looks them in the eyes. “It’s been 20 years; maybe it’s time to let old grudges go.”

“Maybe,” Martha concedes, before sighing. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I am glad you have a relationship with him. I just hope he doesn’t disappoint you.”    

Clara shrugs. “I’m sure he will, just like I’m sure I’ll disappoint him at some point. But we’re a family who love each other, something all the money in the world can’t buy. We’ll get through it.”

Martha smiles proudly at her as Jonathan says, sounding rather choked up, “Since when have you gotten so wise?”

“What can I say? I have two great teachers,” she replies.

Eyes misty, her parents pull her into an embrace, and Clara eagerly hugs them back.

***

Mr. Melville is surprisingly not that difficult to track down, and Clara looks down at the photo of Jodi smiling in her mother’s red dress. It turns out Jodi had taken several pictures of herself before Pete had arrived to pick her up that fateful night, which her father had discovered after the move. When Clara had explained to Mr. Melville about wanting a photo of Jodi as a gift, he’d been more than happy to give her his favorite from that night, delighted his daughter had at least one friend who still cares about her and misses her.

Seeing Jodi looking beautiful and smiling radiantly, however, Clara wonders whether it’ll be a good idea to give the photo to Pete. He seems to have moved on, but will seeing Jodi’s photo reopen old wounds and pour salt into them?

Sighing, Clara decides to postpone the decision for now and instead reaches for the photo she’d had developed of herself, Chloe, Lana, and Pete, all smiling at the camera, to put into the other picture frame to send to her grandfather. She needs to mail it today if she wants him to receive it before he leaves for his cruise, and she still has chores to do.

***

Out of the few hobbies that she's had over the years, the one that’s stuck around the longest is drawing. She’s no da Vinci or Degas, of course, but she’s pretty decent at it, mostly because she’s had a whole lot of practice, having used it as a way to master her strength and speed. These days, she mostly doodles or on special occasions makes her parents cards. But when days go by and she still hasn’t come up with a good Christmas gift idea for Lex, she decides to put her meager drawing skills to use. And since she has the money to make it really special, she decides to go to the mall in Granville so she can go shopping at the art store there for supplies.

Unfortunately, Jonathan insists on driving her there when she mentions it, clearly intent on making it up to her. A part of her is touched he’s trying, but most of her just feels annoyance, since she now won’t be able to shop at the art store without being questioned. She gets an idea when she sees that the whole shopping thing still makes Jonathan more than a little awkward. Deciding to use his awkwardness against him, she wanders into the lingerie store, claiming to need to buy some underwear. Her hand is barely touching a bra before he’s hurriedly escaping, telling her he’ll meet her at the food court.  

Clara waits a few minutes to make sure he won’t return before she heads for the art store, a smirk adorning her lips.

When she joins him at the food court and tells him she’s done, Jonathan looks so relieved he even treats her to a dinner there – after making her promise that she won’t tell her mother, of course. Martha gives them a knowing look when they get back home, but seeing the happy smile on their faces, she lets it go.

Jonathan just kisses his two favorite people in the world before going to wash up.

***

Clara waits until her parents go to bed before she sneaks out to the loft and pulls out her newly bought supplies from where she’d hidden them behind the bookcase. She eyes the blank charcoal paper and debates what she should draw. Maybe a picture of the sunset? She does have one of the best vantages of it through her loft window. Perhaps a portrait of the two of them together? Though she’s not sure she can draw faces well so that’s probably not a good idea. Or maybe one where they’re looking out into the distance through the loft window as the sun sets in front of them?

She’s not quite decided, but she still sketches out a rough idea on a scrap piece of paper. It doesn’t look bad, even if it feels like something is missing.

By the time she finds herself yawning for the fifth time, she’s gone through dozens of different drafts and none of them look right. Sighing, she carefully puts everything away before she heads off to bed.

***

Despite knowing her friends are all going away for Christmas break, it isn’t until her mother receives a call from Mrs. Palmer confirming that produce orders for the tail end of December and early January will be cancelled that it hits her that includes Lex. When she thinks about it, it’s a no brainer – of course Lex is eager to get away from the cold and drafty castle in Smallville for somewhere far more exciting, perhaps a private beach or for some skiing in Aspen, somewhere exclusive that rich people go to on their vacations.

While Clara knows Lex deserves a break from work, especially given everything that’s happened to him in Smallville, the idea that he’ll be away for weeks sends a frisson of alarm through her. She’s not sure what she’ll do if she can’t lay eyes on him, if she can’t check that he’s still here with her when she feels that desperation and terror clawing its way up her throat-

“AH!” Clara cries out, clutching her ears as she is suddenly bombarded by all the noise around her. The creaking of the barn, the gusts of wind, the sounds of the cows chewing, and even Martha knocking a wooden spoon against the metal pot are all deafeningly loud, making her cringe. She winces with every step Jonathan takes as he climbs up the porch stairs, as it rings like a loud thud hammering her eardrums, and she can’t hold back another cry when the screen door slams shut behind him, sounding like a bomb has just detonated right next to her ear.

She drops to the floor of the loft when the sounds all blend together, becoming extremely loud and indistinguishable. She’s about to scream when all of a sudden it all fades into the background as she hears a loud lub-dub, lub-dub she soon realizes is a heartbeat. Clara focuses on that like she’s dying of thirst and the heartbeat is an oasis, and soon the soothing sounds of a heart beating are all she can hear, allowing her to breathe and relax at last.

“Clara!” Martha calls out, and she recoils as it sounds like her mother is using a bullhorn right by her ear. The sounds of the heartbeat disappear as everything else once again begins to overwhelm her.

Only for it all to suddenly stop.

“Clara! Dinner’s ready!” Martha calls out again, but this time, she hears it in normal volume.

To their credit, her parents take the news of yet another emergence of a power remarkably well.

“So these sounds, they… they just hit you all at once?” Jonathan asks.

Clara restlessly moves her fork across her plate. “It’s like someone turned on a giant stereo full blast. Suddenly all the sounds were amplified. Then just as abruptly they went away.” She shakes her head. “It was completely random.”

“Well, considering your x-ray and heat vision, I’m not really sure how your senses are supposed to develop,” Martha admits.

“Guess it’s too much to hope for that it’ll just go away, huh?”

Martha leans over the table to gently squeeze her hand. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

“Your mother’s right, you mastered all of your other powers before, you’ll be able to with this… super hearing as well.”

Clara glumly nods and forces herself to take a bite of her dinner.

***

Despite her best efforts, Clara’s super hearing keeps randomly going in and out, forcing her to miss a couple of days of school as the sounds there are far too overwhelming. The only remedy that has remotely worked to keep her from experiencing pain is when Clara focuses on one sound over everything else, but even then, emergence of a new sound overrides it, and she can’t figure out how to keep her hearing from picking it all up. Not to mention that unlike the first time when her super hearing had manifested, when that heartbeat had soothed her and had kept all the other sounds at bay for awhile, all of her efforts since haven’t lasted nearly as long nor been as effective.

And now it’s the day before the last day of classes – if she doesn’t get this under control, she won’t be able to go to school and say goodbye to her friends. Deciding to just take the bull by its horns, Clara selects the various equipment in the barn – table saw, tractor engine, and radio – and turns them all on, forcing herself to try and focus on just the sounds coming from the radio.

The racket naturally brings Jonathan and Martha over from the house, and they immediately cover their own ears to protect their eardrums against all the noise.

“Clara! Do you mind telling us what’s going on in here?” Jonathan yells.

“I’m trying to focus my hearing!”

Martha shoots her a wry look. “I take it you’re not having much luck!”

“I need to get a handle on this! I’ve got to focus! Help me!”

Giving a firm nod, Jonathan steps forward. “Alright, let’s get to work then!”

After Martha gestures for Clara to stand in the middle of the barn, she leans over to turn on the wood chipper next to her and then pulls the cord, causing the engine to sputter to life. She walks over to Clara and takes her hand.

“Listen for your father’s voice!”

When Clara nods, Jonathan stands next to the table saw and whispers, “Concentrate, Clara.”

Unfortunately, she can’t hear him over everything else that’s making a racket.

“Concentrate on my voice,” he continues to whisper.

Closing her eyes, Clara tries to focus her hearing on each individual sounds. When she hears the metal grating of the blades in the wood chipper, she winces before moving on to the grinding of the table saw before concentrating on the motor of the tractor. And slowly, as she concentrates on one sound, the others fade away until she’s eventually able to block out all the noise except for Jonathan’s voice.

“Clara, concentrate. Concentrate on my voice, sweetheart.”

She grins triumphantly, raising the thumb of the hand that’s not being held by Martha so Jonathan can see it.

As Martha smiles and hugs Clara, Jonathan heads over to join them in their celebration. Unfortunately as he brushes past a table, his arm nudges a nail and it tumbles off and falls to the ground with a crash that is deafening to Clara.

“Ah!” she screams, clutching at her ears.

“Clara!” Martha and Jonathan hurriedly start turning everything off.

It doesn’t take long before Clara is shaking her head and breathing out once more. “It’s okay! It’s okay. For a second I could hear you, dad.”

Jonathan and Martha smile at each other in relief.

“That’s great. I was barely whispering. Okay, let’s keep working.”

At Clara’s nod, Jonathan walks away, this time all the way to the barn doors as Martha switches everything back on.

“Focus, Clara. Focus on my voice. Can you hear me?” he whispers, even softer than before.

When Clara nods with a relieved smile, having managed to filter out everything much quicker this time around, he echoes it. “Good.”

Martha then starts to bang a wrench against the metal side of the wood chipper. Clara winces, but this time, she’s able to recover faster and filter it out.

“Again!”

***

Her friends have been concerned about her as they don’t recall her ever having been sick before, though admittedly they haven’t known her well – or for long, in Chloe’s case – to say one way or the other. When Clara finally returns, having recovered from “a nasty cold,” they happily greet her and she eagerly joins in on the general excitement and cheer that permeates the halls of the school as everyone raucously anticipates their Christmas break.

Since her friends have already exchanged gifts earlier in the week, the only ones left are those to and from Clara. Although disappointed to have missed it, Clara almost thinks this is better, since she won’t be competing for her share of the attention. Lana warily eyes the Wall of Weird when they enter the Torch office, but she appears to breathe a little easier upon seeing that her photo is no longer on there.

Her friends opt to go first. “It’s a joint present,” Chloe says, gesturing at the three of them, before handing over a familiarly shaped gift, though far smaller.

“Did you get me-”

“Just open it!”

Clara is pleasantly surprised to see a used ukulele in a worn case. “You guys…”

“Sorry, the guitars were too out of our price range,” Chloe admits.

“No, this is perfect!” she reassures them.

“And this too,” Lana says, opening the inside flap to show her a beginner’s guide.

“This is great, thank you!” Clara says, hugging all three of them.

It’s Clara’s turn, and Pete jokingly rubs his hands together in anticipation.

Chloe eagerly rips through the wrapping paper and rolls her eyes at the necklace inside the jewelry box, but Clara sees how the blonde is gently running her thumb over her half of the heart with ‘best’ engraved on it. Clara, naturally, is already wearing her half of the heart.

Seeing her raised eyebrow, Chloe huffs and loses the put upon look as she pulls her down for a hug.

“Thanks, Clara. Merry Christmas.”

Lana is touched by her gift, particularly when Clara mentions her mother’s old diary being the impetus, and assures her she doesn’t already have one. Clara isn’t sure if she believes her, but at least she knows Lana appreciates it.

Pete’s gift is easily the most… delicate and sensitive out of all three of them, and so she pulls him aside to give it to him in private. She’d debated long and hard over it, but in the end, believing it may offer him some closure, she’d decided to go through with it. She finds herself glad she’s done so when Pete is absolutely silent as he views the photo, before carefully touching the glass over Jodi’s face. For long minutes he just stares at the image in awe.

“I’d almost forgotten what she’d looked like,” he whispers. He looks up at her and his eyes are shining. “Thank you.”

***

Once the bell rings signaling the end of school, Clara waves to her friends as they all go their separate ways. She hurriedly drops her backpack off in the loft before picking up Lex’s gift and making her way over to the mansion. She knows Lex has postponed his date of departure, and while she doesn’t think it’s because he’d been hoping to see her “recover” before he leaves, she also wants to ensure she doesn’t miss her chance to see him, especially when it’ll be weeks until she lays eyes on him again.

At least such a thought no longer causes her to have a panic attack.

After many, many, many different drafts, the final charcoal drawing is what she thinks is the view of Smallville from the air. She’s taken some liberties however so that the Kent Farm, the Loeb bridge, and Luthor Mansion are clearly in view and distinguishable. And if you examine it carefully, you can see the shadow a flying man makes over the town.

She’d written in the bottom right corner, ‘Thought this might make a better display than a ruined Porsche’ before signing it cheekily, ‘Your Guardian Angel, Clara.’

It isn’t until Clara hands it over that she starts to worry that she’s being too insensitive or flippant. Before she can take it back, Lex is already opening it and the look on his face has her breathing out a sigh of relief.

“So you like it?” she still can’t help but ask.

Lex carefully puts down the drawing on his desk, taking great care to make sure not to smudge an inch of it.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he says, clearly trying for normalcy though Clara can tell he’s touched.

“I can a little,” she admits. “I know it’s not as good as the stuff you have hanging here-”

Lex shakes his head before looking into her eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?” he says almost rhetorically.

Before Clara can ask what he means by that, he leans forward and gently kisses her on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

Clara knows she’s blushing. Her fingers unconsciously trail over where Lex’s lips touched her skin. Just then, her control over her super hearing slips, and she is startled to hear that heartbeat once again.

It doesn’t take long before it hits her that she’s hearing Lex’s heart.

No wonder she’d found it so comforting.

It takes her several moments before she can speak. “You’re welcome.”

Although she wants to keep listening to the soothing lub-dub, she forces herself to turn off her super hearing. Instead, she looks around the study for a distraction, and her gaze catches on the modern art deco table standing in a corner with a set of lamps, both of which are clearly made with car parts. The ingenious clock on top of the table made with gears with the Porsche emblem in the center makes it clear where the parts of it had come from.  

“Lex…”

“You had a point about me dwelling too much on my past. So I thought I’d instead turn it into mementos of our first meeting.”

“It’s amazing,” she says as she carefully examines the beautiful art that had come from his ruined Porsche. “Though it doesn’t really… fit in here.”

Lex’s lips twitch. “They’ll be moved upstairs. Now, for your gift…”

“Lex,” she says warningly. “You promised, nothing extravagant that my parents will insist I return.”

He smiles. “And I kept my word, it’s not extravagant,” he says as he hands over a small box.

Clara doesn’t believe him, but she’s too pleased to argue. She eagerly opens the box and her eyes widen with surprise at finding a watch nestled inside. Unlike the dainty and delicate-looking watches that are commonly sold to women – which she’s always thought she’s too ungainly for and had feared that she’ll break – this watch is actually a decent size with a bit of heft and weight, both of which are far more to Clara’s tastes. The delicate gears as well as the small Porsche emblem on the watch face make it clear where the parts for the watch had also come from. And on the back, the date of their meeting is engraved.

“This is great,” she breathes. It’s not at all what she’d expected, but she’s touched, particularly knowing its history. And while it’s probably not extravagant to a billionaire, to simple farmers, he may as well have given her a car again. Still, at least this time, she knows her parents won’t make her return it since it’s made from used car parts, even if it happens to be a Porsche.

She smiles at him before pulling him into a hug.   She can’t resist and brushes the lightest of kisses on his cheek. “Thank you, Lex. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he says softly.

***

Despite finally being able to afford to go all out with Christmas decorations, the Kents stick to hanging their old white lights outside their house and the same knickknacks also decorate their tree. Martha’s holiday treats have been selling like gangbusters, so much so that the large grocery store has tripled their order for the season, and there’s every indication that the chain will award her that big contract she’s been hoping for. With both ovens being in constant use and their lone combo refrigerator-freezer running out of space, she and Jonathan discuss the possibility of converting part of the barn into a larger kitchen.

Clara just eagerly volunteers herself as quality control taste tester.

However, just because Martha is thoroughly busy with her growing baking empire doesn’t mean she intends to forego their Christmas movie marathon. It takes a bit of finagling but Jonathan succeeds in moving the television into the kitchen, and as they watch all the holiday staples, rather than popcorn, they enjoy the delicious treats that Martha has consigned to the reject pile for one reason or another. Christmas morning is as bright and early as always – they do live on a farm, after all – and even as Clara is ecstatic over receiving the blue blouse with small white polka dots and knee-length red pencil skirt that she’d adored but had thought too impractical and expensive to buy the first time she and Martha had gone shopping all those weeks ago, her parents are equally appreciative of their gifts. As for their Christmas dinner, Clara eagerly pitches in to help, and her heat vision comes in incredibly handy when Martha can’t afford to spare the space in the oven for the turkey. Naturally, there’s plenty of dessert available to Jonathan and Clara’s delight.  

New Year’s is spent relaxing in front of the TV watching the ball drop in Times Square, and Martha and Jonathan exchange a sweet kiss at midnight before they both kiss the top of Clara’s head with wishes of a “Happy New Year!”

And despite everything, Clara honestly finds herself rather glad that it had just been her and her parents for the holidays, as spending so much time with each other has brought them closer together as a family. Still, no matter how beneficial, it is nevertheless quite monotonous, especially when she doesn’t see a soul outside of her parents. Having largely lived that way for years, it’s not a feeling she’s unused to, but now that she has friends and other people she loves besides her parents, it’s not a state of affairs she prefers to be in, and she can’t help but be glad when school starts up again.

Everyone is full of tales of their holidays and the hallways are loud with chatter. Chloe and Pete are no exception, and they try their best to one up each other in their retellings. Clara just rolls her eyes at them as Lana asks her how she’s been.

“It was great, nice and relaxing, especially without the noisy twins over there.”

Even as Chloe pretends to be offended, Pete says, “Nice and relaxing? Clara, I assure you the true meaning of those words aren’t felt until you’re swimming in the warm blue waters-”

The bell thankfully rings, sparing her Pete’s elaborate storytelling for at least the next hour.

“Come on, let’s get to class.”

As they make their way, Lana says softly, “Admit it, you missed this.”

“I plead the fifth,” Clara says, smiling.

***

Pete grunts as he helps Dr. Hamilton move the last of the latest pieces of equipment that he’d ordered with Lex’s money. Despite previously claiming he’s useless, Hamilton had summoned him urgently once he’d returned from his vacation, and Pete had thought he’d had some kind of a breakthrough. To find out that he just wanted help moving the new equipment is a let down, to say the least.  

“There,” he says with a sigh of relief. Despite not being that large, all of the equipment are deceptively heavier than they appear. He’s stretching his back when a burst of orange catches his gaze.

“Are those flowers? What, you decorating this place now?”

Hamilton holds Pete back before he can go near where they’re growing behind clear glass. “It’s called the nicodemus. It’s been extinct for a hundred years.”

Pete shrugs. “Okay?”

Hamilton growls at the fact that the boy in front of him doesn’t seem to realize what a big deal that is. “I irradiated the dormant seeds with meteor fragments, to find out their effects,” he explains.

Pete looks at him skeptically. “Isn’t it more important to find out how they’re changing people?”

Hamilton barely stops from rolling his eyes. “It’s a first step. That’s what science is. It’s a process, a journey.”

Pete doesn’t lose his look of skepticism but he doesn’t bother continuing to argue. “Do you need anything else?”

“Yeah, were you able to find any links between Earl Jenkins and meteor rocks?”

Pete shakes his head. “It was some kind of an experimental chemical that caused his seizures, not meteor rocks.”

Hamilton doesn’t look like he believes that, but lets Pete go.

***

It's the second week in January yet Lex hasn’t returned to Smallville, so Clara is delighted when a familiar envelope embossed with intertwined Ls is waiting for her when she gets home. Her disappointment at not seeing a personal card or a letter disappears when she realizes it’s an invitation to attend a charity gala held at the Luthor Hall in the Metropolis Museum. And best of all, it isn’t another extravagant gift that she’ll have to talk her parents into letting her keep but rather something that they should be perfectly happy with. It will be her first proper visit to the city, and to top it off, she’ll get to see a brand new exhibit, making it a learning opportunity as well.

And she’ll finally get to see Lex again. She thankfully hasn’t suffered from a nightmare since before the break, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t missed Lex.

“I can go, right?” Clara eagerly asks. “I’ve wanted to go to the museum for ages!”

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re up for it? Metropolis is a lot louder than Smallville.”

Clara nods. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been filtering everything out with no problems for weeks now.”

Although clearly worried, the opportunity is too good to miss and so they reluctantly agree that she can go.

Her excitement about the trip to the Metropolis Museum dims slightly when she thinks about the gala part of the invitation. Her one and only formal dress had been ruined beyond repair thanks to fighting two meteor mutants, and she’s not sure her Christmas gift from her parents will suit. After all, aren’t galas supposed to be glamorous and formal occasions, with women in fancy gowns and men in tuxes?

“Well, at least you’ll be able to wear your new outfit,” Jonathan says with a small smile.

Realizing her parents are expecting her to wear their gift and unwilling to seem like she’s ungrateful, Clara does her best to smile. Before they can cotton on to her reluctance, she makes the excuse of needing to iron her outfit to get rid of wrinkles and hurries upstairs.

Clara just barely resists the urge to thunk her head against the wall. As she eyes the fancy invitation, she can’t help but think it’s a terrible idea and that she’ll embarrass Lex as his guest.

To her surprise, however, as she stands in front of the full-length mirror, Clara finds herself rather pleased with how she looks. With her hair carefully styled and makeup applied, she actually looks quite elegant. She doesn’t doubt she’ll be a little out of place, but certainly not as bad as she’d initially imagined.

That thought only lasts until she arrives at the Metropolis Museum. Already a grand, classical structure, the place is lit with lights and there’s actually a red carpet rolled out front. The line of limos that stretch out from the entrance is longer than the human eye can see, and as she’d feared, every guest is decked out in formalwear. As Clara steps out of the limo Lex had loaned her for the event, she can’t help but feel self-conscious, knowing she looks completely out of place amid the glitterati. Thankfully her humiliating walk across the red carpet is quickly overshadowed by the arrival of a celebrity, allowing her to make her escape into the museum.

Despite her best efforts to keep her focus on the new exhibit, Clara feels uncomfortable as she wanders around. While a couple of the women are just as tall as she is, wearing towering stiletto heels that make Clara fear for their ankles, she can’t help but be aware of the judgmental looks she’s receiving from the other attendees. She knows she’s not dressed appropriately, and with Lex constantly surrounded by the other guests – since Lionel has absented himself at the last minute – she also can’t help but feel terribly alone.

Sighing, Clara is about to go hide in a coatroom à la Lex when she sees the crowd around one of the centerpieces of the collection moving on. Eager to view it at last, she makes a beeline for it.

She’s rather taken aback at seeing the jeweled breastplate. It is a gaudy monstrosity, bejeweled with blue, red, and clear gemstones, with a shield in the chest where a golden snake is curled into what looks like the letter ‘S.’ No doubt it’s worth a fortune in jewels alone, but that doesn’t make it any less ugly.

Lex, looking unfairly gorgeous in a black suit and tie, at last comes and stands next to her.

“You know it belonged to Alexander the Great? They said the design symbolizes strength and courage.”

“I can’t exactly see myself going into battle with that on my chest.”

“Darker times call for darker methods. His opponents thought he was invincible.”

“Careful Lex, your geeky megalomania is showing,” she teases.

Lex quirks an eyebrow. “Just because I’m interested in people who ruled the world before they were 30-”

“Don’t worry, Lex. You still have a few years to go,” Lana says as she walks up to them.

Clara can’t help the stab of envy she feels as she sees the gorgeous nude and silver beaded dress Lana is wearing with matching heels and a clutch. She looks so beautiful and sophisticated that Clara can’t help but feel like the ugly stepsister standing next to her.

“Lana! I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Lana shrugs. “Nell’s date fell through, so she brought me.”

When the other attendees pull Lex away once more, Lana quietly asks, “Having fun?”

Clara admits, “I’m feeling a bit underdressed.” She does her best to hold still and not fidget with her blouse.

“I’m not that comfortable either,” Lana tells her, even though it’s obvious she’s lying. Clara still appreciates that she tries.

“Hey, why don’t you join us for dinner? Nell’s looking at the diamond collection but I’m going to get her in a minute so we can go eat.”

Much as she’d like to get away from the judging looks she’s been receiving all evening, the last thing Clara wants is to join them for dinner, where Nell will look at her with pity and make some passive-aggressive remarks about Martha.

“I can’t, Lex invited me tonight as his guest. But you guys go ahead.”

Lana turns her head to look at where Lex is ensconced with what seems like an ever-growing group of people. “Are you sure?”

Clara nods. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Once Lana leaves to find Nell, Clara glances over all the exhibits in Luthor Hall. She’s seen them all and, while she doesn’t wish to insult Lex or the curator of the museum, none of them are interesting enough to warrant a second look. She’s a fan of human history not gemstones, and even when they’re put on a breastplate of a renowned ancient Greek king, they hold no interest for her. As she turns around to go hide somewhere until the event ends, Lex pulls her aside.

“Clara, where are you going?”

“I’m just going to get some air.” She pauses before asking, “Wanna join me? I know you’re dying to sneak out.”

When Lex seems to be hesitating, she says cajolingly, “Admit it, you could use some of those non-hiding methods of getting some air in the coatroom.”

His lips twitch. “Knew I shouldn’t have told you that story. But much as I’d like to, Clara, I can’t.” Seeing the watch he’d gifted her on her wrist, his eyes brighten.

“I see you’re wearing the watch I got you.”

Clara gently touches it. “Yeah, it’s great Lex. Although I’m rather terrified I’ll wreck it somehow by wearing it.”

Lex shakes his head. “Watches are meant to be worn, not displayed somewhere gathering dust.”

Seeing her thumb caress the face of the watch, he clears his throat. “You know, since Lana has abandoned you, why don’t we find you another companion? How about that young man over there? The blond one in the gray suit. He’s looking mighty lonesome.”

“Always the hopeless romantic, Lex,” comes a silky voice in a British accent.

Lex looks taken aback, but not in a bad way. “Victoria?”

Clara stifles another stab of jealousy. From the way they’re looking at each other, she knows this Victoria and Lex must have a past. And why wouldn’t they? The Brit looks stunning with her gorgeous sleek wavy brown hair, perfectly petite body in a beautiful black dress, and she even has a sexy accent to boot.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Victoria asks Lex, though it’s clear she is sure of the answer.

Lex doesn’t disappoint. Clearly unable to take his eyes off of her, he haphazardly makes the introductions.

“Clara Kent, this is Victoria Hardwick, a very old friend.”

“Hi,” Clara says, doing her best to keep smiling.

Victoria barely even deigns to look at her let alone return the greeting before she’s dismissing her and turning back to Lex.

Clara’s flush of humiliation worsens when Lex simply reaches out to grab two flutes of champagne from a waiter and says airily, “I’ll catch up with you later, Clara,” before turning to Victoria and offering her a flute of champagne. “Want a private tour?”

Her lips quirk into a sensuous smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Clara squashes the pain she feels and instead forces herself to keep walking.

***

Making her way out of the museum, Clara takes in a deep breath at the top of the stairs besides the majestic columns. While she much prefers the fresh air around her home, the view of all the tall skyscrapers lit brilliantly against the night sky is breathtaking and definitely makes up for it.

She turns on her super hearing to take in the sounds of the huge city, bustling even when it’s night, before it gets to be too much for her and she restricts it to just her immediate surroundings. She’s about to turn it off entirely when she catches the unmistakable sound of a punch. Her eyes zoom in on the two men at a small park across from the museum. The man whose punch had knocked the other man to the ground holds up what looks like a badge, and Clara doesn’t need telescopic vision to realize it’s that of the Metropolis Police.

“You see this? I’m the only reason you’re not in a cage right now. Now you get into the IA and you get me those files,” he demands.

“What, is one of them yours?”

The man – the obviously dirty cop – kicks him in the face, and Clara clenches her fists but doesn’t know how to interfere without betraying her secret. She looks around to see if anyone else is near, and sees a homeless man across the street curled up on a bus bench, his shopping cart full of his possessions on one end and a small white dog curled up by his feet on the other.

She stares at him sadly for a moment before zipping by the bus stop, the noise she deliberately makes sending the dog barking and thankfully attracting the cop’s attention before he can cause the other man any further harm.

“You’ve got 24 hours to get creative. Start thinking,” he orders before he leaves, and the man gingerly picks himself up before going in the opposite direction.

Clara sighs with relief. “Well, welcome to Metropolis,” she murmurs to herself.

She’s contemplating leaving early rather than sticking around where she’s clearly not wanted when the screeching tires of a bus catch her attention as it comes careening around the corner. The bus starts hitting traffic cones and parked cars, and a quick use of x-ray vision shows the driver clutching at his chest before collapsing, falling from his seat onto the floor. The bus, now driverless, is heading straight for the bus stop where the homeless man and his dog are, unaware of the danger that’s heading straight for them.

Clara hesitates briefly, knowing the dirty cop can’t have gone far and may be watching her this very minute. But she refuses to just stand by and let others get injured just because she’d rather protect her secret.

Of course, just because she’s going to act doesn’t mean she needs to blatantly bring attention to herself. Rather than using her super strength to make the bus stop, she uses her heat vision to blow out the left front tire of the bus. That successfully diverts the bus away from the bus shelter and its occupants, and though it is now heading straight for the museum instead, between all the cars and traffic cones it has hit and the blown-out tire combined with the incline of the museum steps, there is enough resistance that the bus comes to a stop on its own halfway up the stairs.

Clara sees the driver getting up, seemingly unharmed, and best yet, the homeless man is still sleeping, unaware that he’d been in any danger.

She quickly looks around but she can’t see the cop. As several of the attendees come out from the museum, the first, “Oh my god!” getting the rest of the guests’ attention, Clara uses the distraction to sneak back inside to call for the limo driver to take her home.

***

Clara gets up early the next morning to run into town to pick up that day’s copy of the Daily Planet. She knows there’s nothing that could have given her away, but she wants to check just in case. After carefully reading through the entire front page article, she breathes out a sigh of relief.  

At least something is going right in her life.

Before she sneaks back into the house, she does a quick check with her x-ray vision, only to see that caution is unnecessary as her parents are in the barn instead. Tucking the paper inside her jacket, she makes it seem like she’s just left the house as she enters the barn. Spotting Jonathan struggling with a generator on a pulley, she hurries forward.

“Dad, let me help you,” she says, and grabs the chain with one hand, raising the generator easily.

“Don’t break a sweat,” he grumbles good-naturedly.

Martha smiles as she looks on fondly. “So, night owl, how was Metropolis?”

Clara clasps the chain against the hook on the beam to ensure the generator doesn’t fall down. “Fine.”

She says skeptically, “Come on! A gala at the Metropolis Museum and it was just fine?”

“The museum was amazing and the exhibit was okay. It’s just…” Clara pauses. She doesn’t want to mention how out of place she’d felt in her outfit for fear of offending her parents or making them feel bad. Instead, she confesses something she’d planned to keep under wraps, especially since nothing had really happened and her parents don’t get the Daily Planet. “There was a runaway bus and I had to use my heat vision to blow out the tire to stop the bus before anyone got hurt.”

“What?” Jonathan asks with alarm as Martha pales.

Clara pulls out the day’s issue of Daily Planet and hands it over to Martha, who tilts the front page so Jonathan can see it too. The headline reads ‘Metro Bus Crashes Museum Gala.’

“Clara, are you all right?” Martha asks in concern.

“Of course, I’m fine.”

Jonathan’s brows furrow, clearly displeased. “What if somebody had seen you do it?”

“Do what? Stand there just staring at the bus?” Clara retorts. “Besides, what else was I supposed to do? Just watch and let people get hurt, maybe even killed?”

Martha, having hurriedly skimmed the article, says, “It’s really fine, Jonathan. There’s no mention of any witnesses in the paper and the authorities are attributing the cause of the tire blowout to the impact of the bus hitting all those parked cars.”

Seeing that Jonathan still doesn’t look placated, Clara sighs. “I better get to school.”

Martha pointedly stares at Jonathan until he caves. He clears his throat. “Hey, Clara. Look, I am real proud of what you did.”

Martha adds, “We both are.”

Clara sighs. She’s getting increasingly frustrated with yet another evidence of her father’s lack of trust in her and her judgment despite his declarations otherwise. “You said you trusted me and my judgment,” she pointedly reminds him.

Jonathan nods slowly. “You’re right, and I did. I do.”

“We do,” Martha pointedly adds.

“But as your parents, our duty is to protect you, so we worry. And we’re always going to no matter how grown up you get.”

Clara does smile at that.

***

Lex knows Victoria had been surprised that he’d been a perfect gentleman at the gala, showing her around the museum with plenty of flirty banter but nothing more than that, not even a single kiss at the end of the evening. She of course doesn’t know that he had used her convenient appearance to distract himself from Clara’s too tempting presence, particularly when wearing his gift and dressed in clothes that show off her figure to its best advantage – not that her body really needs any additional assistance.

Having noticed Victoria’s unusual level of interest, however, Lex had invited her to come visit him in Smallville. He hadn’t been surprised when she’d accepted his offer with alacrity.

As Lex pours the both of them tall glasses of mimosas, he asks, “So, what do you think of Smallville?”

Victoria turns away from the windows to face him. “It reminds me of the village where my grandparents live in Wales,” she says, walking around Lex while looking around the room before stopping in front of him. “Very quaint, very safe. And the last place I expected to find Lex Luthor.”

“My father plans to bring me back to Metropolis in a few years.”

“He’s lying,” she informs him.

“I know,” Lex says blandly, completely unbothered. It’s nothing he doesn’t already know, after all.

“You deserve something better.”

Lex hands her a glass. “And you’ve crossed the pond to tell me what that is.”

“Catching up with an old friend isn’t reason enough?” Victoria coyly asks.

“As much as I’d like to flatter myself, the daughters of multinational industrialists usually don’t fly around the world to rekindle old flames.” He lifts his glass. “Neither do executive vice presidents.”

She allows some of the pride she feels to show. “Then you’ve heard.”

Lex isn’t impressed. “That you’re working for your father? I keep up,” he quips. “How is Sir Harry?”

“Distant, inaccessible, and rich. I believe you know the type.”

He leans back against his desk. “What does he want with me?”

She says gently, “He understands you may have certain… negative feelings towards your father.”

He arches his eyebrow. “Sir Harry has always had an incredible grasp of the obvious.”

Victoria is undeterred. “He was hoping those feelings might work to our mutual advantage." As Lex continues to look unimpressed, she struts towards him, making sure her figure sways to its best advantage. “He’d like you to reconsider your position with LuthorCorp.”

“So he sent you here as an incentive.”

She pauses minutely before saying, “I’ve missed you, Lex.”

“I’m touched,” he replies, clearly not meaning it. “Do you have a… proposal?”

Victoria leans closer. “First I think I’d like… something else,” she whispers against his lips, before pressing forward and kissing him.

Lex kisses back without much fervor. He can’t help but lament over how predictable Victoria still is. His mind whirring with plans, he makes her work harder for his attention, and is unsurprised when she rises to the challenge.

He pretends to succumb.

***

When Clara enters the Torch office, she sees Chloe in front of her computer with Pete at a neighboring desk doing his best to look like he’s diligently working on his next article.

“Another scathing editorial?” she asks.

“Is there any other kind?” Chloe absently replies, before her head snaps up. “So, how was the gala? And did you see the bus’s miraculous stop on the museum steps?”

Clara shakes her head. “No, I was too busy seeing the exhibit and missed the whole thing. And the gala was okay. I guess I’m not much of a city gal.”

Chloe’s face falls, and she quips, “Guess you can take the girl out of the farm but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.”

When the blonde makes no other comment and instead returns to work, Clara sits at the other empty desk and proceeds to search for Metropolis police officers under investigation for corruption, hoping to identify the dirty cop she’d seen. Telling her parents about how she’d stopped the runaway bus has reignited her paranoia, and while she knows there hadn’t been anything for the cop to see, she’d rather be safe than sorry.

Unfortunately, there are far too many articles mentioning crooked cops in the Daily Planet archives to go through them all, at least not without getting caught by Chloe, and she doesn’t have a ready explanation for why she is researching this subject at all. And so, after telling herself to stop being paranoid, she guiltily types Victoria Hardwick into the search engine instead.  

Only to see Chloe heading over in her direction. Not wanting to be quizzed on that either, Clara quickly launches a new browser window so that she appears to be looking up latest farming techniques instead.

“Hey Clara-” whatever Chloe had been about to say disappears as she sees what’s on the screen. “Farming techniques? What on earth are you researching?”

“Sorry, this isn’t for The Torch,” she says sheepishly.

Chloe sighs. “Whatever. It’s not like Pete’s actually working either.”

He looks up with a guilty smile. “How’d you know?”

“I am Chloe Sullivan, I know all,” the blonde says theatrically before straightening up and narrowing her eyes. “I’d better be receiving an article by the end of today.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Pete salutes.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe returns to her desk and Clara nonchalantly changes browser windows again.

***

Lex heads into town for, ostensibly, a cup of coffee, but to actually see if he can catch a sight of Clara. He feels bad for the way he’d just abandoned her at the museum, particularly when a wayward bus had nearly crashed into the building, and he wants to apologize and make sure she’s okay. Unfortunately she’s not at the Beanery, and so rather than waiting around to see if she might be coming by, he grabs a coffee to go, deciding to drop by her house instead. He’s making his way out the door when he hears a less than welcome voice calling his name.

“Afternoon, Lex,” Phelan says. “Or is it Mr. Luthor here in Smallville?”

“Phelan,” he greets coolly. He purposefully continues walking out the door. Phelan, of course, follows. “Isn’t Smallville a couple of counties out of your jurisdiction?”

“Well, I don’t need jurisdiction to look up an old friend.”

Lex turns around. “We were never friends. If you want to see me, call my office.”

As he turns away again, Phelan asks, “When’s it happen, Lex?”

Despite wanting to disengage from the conversation and leave Phelan unsatisfied, he knows it’s best to finish the conversation lest Phelan makes a scene. “When does what happen?”

“When do you turn on the people that help you?”

Lex swallows down the rage that rises at the gall of the pathetic lowlife in front of him.

“How many times did I pull you back from the edge? You’d be dead now if it wasn’t for me,” Phelan argues.

“You were on my father’s payroll, his go-to guy in the department. You got paid to fix situations, so don’t try and pretend it was anything else.”

“You have a good life here, Lex. I’d sure hate to see that get compromised.”

Lex isn’t bothered. He knows Phelan’s threats are empty.

“You can’t touch me and you know it,” he says calmly, sipping his coffee. “And I have no interest in helping you with whatever troubles you landed yourself in. If you thought otherwise, you’re losing your instinct. Maybe you should think about retiring.”

Giving him a cool, pointed stare, Lex walks away. He doesn’t see the look of impotent rage that appears on Phelan’s face, before being replaced by one of calculation.

***

With classes over for the day, the hallways are full of chatting students. Depositing the books she doesn’t need into her locker, Clara is about to head home when she sees Whitney in front of his opened locker holding numerous books and binders in his arms. His backpack is over one shoulder and it’s half open, looking like its contents are about to spill out any minute. She’s about to go over to say hello and to warn him about that when she sees the guidance counselor approach him.

“Whitney, your mother called. And she filled me in.”

He scowls. “She shouldn’t have.”

“Whitney, she’s just concerned.”

When he eyes the students around them, clearly wary of being overheard, she says, “Look, I’m not here to push. If you need anything, my office is just down the hall. Okay?”

He remains silent for a long moment before sighs and nods. “Okay.”

When she leaves, Whitney closes his locker and starts to make his way down the hall towards Clara. Unfortunately he’s carrying too many things, and the binders slide out of his hands. In his attempt to catch them, his backpack slips off his shoulder and falls to the floor too. Clara hurries over to help him pick them up and she sees a white bag with ‘Smallville Rx’ on it. She picks it up only for Whitney to snatch it away with a glare. He picks up the rest of his things and leaves without saying a word.

“Sorry… And you’re welcome.”

When Whitney just continues walking without even acknowledging her, Clara bites her lip with indecision. Whitney has never been so rude, and considering the conversation she overheard, she can’t help but be concerned. Before she can talk herself out of it, she quickly x-rays his backpack and sees a pill bottle inside the white pharmacy paper bag with a label that has ‘Amlodipine’ written on it.

***

When she gets home, Clara looks up amlodipine. She learns it’s a medication used to treat high blood pressure and chest pain. Since Whitney is unlikely to be suffering from those health issues, no doubt the medication must be for an older family member considering he’s able to pick up prescriptions on their behalf. Seeing as she’s already thoroughly invaded Whitney’s privacy enough as it is, however, Clara decides to refrain from sticking her nose in any further.

Although she can’t help but worry about him.

When she sees him sitting by himself in an empty classroom the next day, she can’t help but feel guilty, knowing he’s completely unaware that she knows something so private that he wouldn’t have ever wanted her to know.

Making up her mind, Clara determinedly heads directly for him. “Whitney…”

He looks up only to look down in dismissal. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

Clara doesn’t let his attitude deter her, since he’s been acting like an asshole to pretty much everyone. She takes off her backpack and sits across from him. “I’m sorry Whitney, but I saw the heart medication in your bag. What’s going on?”

He closes his eyes. His fists clench in anger but it quickly fizzles out, and when he looks up, she can see the worry that’s barely masked. Clara feels her heart going out to him.

“It’s my dad. He’s been in Metropolis, you know, for tests and treatments and…”

“I’m so sorry, Whitney. Is he gonna be okay?”

He roughly runs his hand over his face.  “The doctors don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

He shakes his head, and she can’t help but notice how tired he seems.

“I’m so sorry,” is all she can think to say. A thought strikes her then. “Were you in Metropolis over Christmas break?”

“I visited the city a few times, but I mostly stayed in Smallville.”

“You didn’t spend the break all alone?” she can’t help but ask, a note of horror sneaking into her voice.

He shrugs somewhat defensively. “Someone had to man the store. Besides, I was in Metropolis for the actual day.”

Clara feels awful. Neither her parents nor she had spent any time out and about Main Street during the break, so none of them had known Whitney had stayed behind in Smallville for the holidays. Considering the Fordmans had spent Christmas visiting the hospital, Clara highly doubts they actually had a proper Christmas dinner. Had she known, she would’ve dropped in on Whitney and no doubt her mother would’ve sent over plenty of leftovers to tide him and his mother over for the duration of the break.

Knowing he won’t appreciate the thought, she switches the subject. “Does anyone else know? Lana?” she gently asks.

Whitney shakes his head and sighs tiredly. “She’s been through enough pain in her life with her parents. I don’t want her to have to go through it with me.”

Clara frowns slightly. “I don’t think you give her enough credit. She’s strong, and she’d probably understand better than anyone. And you shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

When Whitney doesn’t appear to be moved by that, she says reassuringly, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, but I think you should. In the meantime, I’m here if you need anything, okay?”

With a sympathetic pat on the arm, she leaves Whitney to think about what she said.

***

Having invited Victoria over for dinner to discuss Sir Harry’s proposal, Lex prepares one of his own. Just as much as Lex hates Lionel, Victoria hates Sir Harry, and if he can turn her the way she’s trying to turn him…

Mrs. Palmer naturally outdoes herself with setting up the ambiance. The fire is lit and roaring in the fireplace, warding off the chill and comfortably warming the room while adding a romantic touch to the drafty place. The beautiful arrangements of white tulips are also a nice touch, and he reminds himself to thank her.

Lex leads Victoria, dressed in a beautiful red dress, to the low table where their sushi dinner is waiting. Victoria doesn’t hesitate and elegantly seats herself onto the cushion on the floor.

As he pours the hot sake, she says, “I assume you’ve had a chance to read my father’s proposal.”

“I didn’t have to.”

Victoria leans forward. “Oh, so you’ve added mind reading to your many abilities.”

Lex says with a smirk, “I know why you’re here, Victoria. Sir Harry wants to take over LuthorCorp and he needs my shares to do it.” He too leans forward. “Your father didn’t dream up this little plan, did he?”

When she doesn’t say anything, he pulls back and continues. “Do you think if you take over LuthorCorp, daddy will finally give you the respect you deserve? He won’t, Victoria.”

Her lips purse minutely before she says, “So what are you suggesting?”

“You came to play on my hatred of my father. Now I’m going to play on yours.” Inching forward, he softly remarks, “Why take one company when you can take two?”

Victoria’s lips twitch. “You know they’d probably kill us.”

Lex smiles. “Probably. But that’s what makes life interesting.”

They clink their cups of sake in agreement.

***

Clara heads over to the mansion before school to see Lex, to ostensibly thank him again for inviting her to the gala but really to see if she can convince him to hang out with her over the weekend. Waving a quick hello to Mrs. Palmer, Clara heads for Lex’s study and enters unceremoniously only to see him lying on the couch with Victoria.

“Sorry!” she squeaks out before whirling around. Although they’re both still dressed, Clara knows if she’d come just a few minutes later, they wouldn’t have been.

Her face burns red with humiliation. Why oh why didn’t she knock?

“Clara,” Lex says coolly, clearly displeased at being interrupted.  

“You can turn around,” the Brit says dryly, and Clara reluctantly does so.

“I am so sorry,” she says again.

“You’ve met Victoria, of course. She’ll be staying here with me for…”

“The foreseeable future,” Victoria says coyly. “What can I say? This town is quite charming. And the company is… irresistible.”

Clara swallows roughly. “Hi again. And sorry. I’ll go.”

When Lex doesn’t even look over at her, his eyes focused entirely on Victoria, Clara rushes back out of the study, her face still flushed with embarrassment. Thankfully, although Victoria’s presence had been a mortifying shock, Clara finds that she isn’t terribly jealous. She does feel some jealousy, of course, but she’s more upset over what her presence will mean for her and Lex’s friendship than anything else. What ground Clara has gained with Lex feels like it’s in jeopardy now, thanks to this curveball throwing a wrench in the works. Victoria will obviously be taking priority in Lex’s life as his girlfriend so Clara can’t expect to continue having such free reign over his time or his home.

Still, just because Lex has a girlfriend doesn’t mean he can no longer have female friends too, and Clara is determined to do everything she can to maintain their friendship, even if she’ll be far more careful in the future to not barge into rooms with closed doors without knocking first.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten 

Because Chloe is her best friend, Clara gets roped into doing more for The Torch than the others, not just occasionally helping to put the paper to bed, but other tasks that the blonde doesn’t want to do, including writing up cafeteria lunch menus as well as any announcements from the school staff and student organizations.  Nearly all the student representatives insist on looking over the announcements she writes up beforehand, and often have a whole list of changes they insist she make, even if they’re wholly unreasonable. 

There is a reason why no one else wants to do it and thus why Chloe “delegates” those duties to Clara, after all. 

At least Clara knows that with Lana, this will be a painless process. 

Having chosen to serve the remainder of her community service hours with Mobile Meals after Cassandra’s death, it’s early evening when Clara is finally able to meet up with Lana to go over what the announcement for the blood drive needs to say.   

“So, what do you think?” Lana cheerily asks as she shows her the various signs she’s come up with to encourage the Smallville High student population to donate blood.  She seems particularly partial to the ‘This Valentine’s, Give the Gift of Life!’ sign, even though it’s not yet February.  

“They’re all great, but I think the straightforward approach will be better.  Valentine’s Day is still weeks away, after all, and the Red Cross will only be here for a few days.”  

Lana purses her lips in thought but eventually nods in agreement.  “You’re right.  Thanks Clara.”  

As she starts gathering up everything she’s brought with her, Clara can’t help but point out with a quirk of an eyebrow, “I still can’t believe you’re chairing the blood drive.  Aren’t you the girl who skinned her knee in seventh grade and passed out when she saw the blood?”  

Lana shoots her a mock glare that soon turns rather sheepish.  “I was hoping I’d live that one down, but yeah.  Still, just because I can’t stand the sight of blood doesn’t mean I can’t do my part.  Speaking of which, when can I get you to donate blood?”  

Clara really should’ve seen that coming.  “Uh…” she thinks fast.  “I actually have a problem with needles.  It’s kind of embarrassing.”  

Lana gives her an understanding smile.  “Don’t worry about it.  Your secret’s safe with me.”  

She tries not to wince at that.  “Can I help you another way, maybe?  You know, sign people up, pass out cookies?”  

Looking relieved, Lana smiles at her in thanks.  “That’d be great, actually.  Whitney’s supposed to be helping but I haven’t been able to get ahold of him, so you’d definitely be a life saver.”  

Clara freezes, knowing she knows something about Whitney that Lana, his girlfriend, doesn’t even know.  Before she can give herself away, however, Martha interrupts them, bringing over plates and cutlery to the dining table.  

“Will you be staying for dinner, Lana?”  

“Thank you, Mrs. Kent, but no.  Nell’s expecting me.”  

Clara follows Lana to the kitchen door, where Jonathan is just entering to wash up for dinner.  “I’ll have the announcement for you to review tomorrow.”  

She shakes her head.  “Oh no, that’s okay, I don’t need to review it.  I know you’ll do a great job.  Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Kent.  See you, Clara!”    

Once Lana leaves, Martha asks Clara, “So what were you two working on?”  

“Blood drive at school.  Lana’s running it.”  

Jonathan frowns.  “Clara, you know you can’t donate.”  

“Duh, dad,” she says, giving him a look parents of teenagers everywhere would recognize.  “I lied and told her I have a problem with needles.”  

“Well, you technically do,” Martha notes with a wry twitch of her lips.    

Clara barely resists rolling her eyes as she starts to clear everything from the dining table.  

Jonathan lifts Clara’s backpack from his chair and carries it over to the couch before sitting down in the now empty seat.  “Clara, I know you feel bad for lying but…  you  can’t always be honest with people.  It’s one of the prices you pay for your abilities.”  

“I know,” she says with a sigh.  “That’s why I volunteered to help with the drive instead.  I just wish…”  

“What, sweetheart?” Martha asks, running her fingers through Clara’s hair when she trails off.  

“Never mind,” she says.  “Come on, let’s eat.”  

Clara purposefully keeps her gaze lowered, not wanting to see the looks on her parents’ faces.  To her relief, after a long moment, her parents start bringing dishes over, and the dinner conversation that evening thankfully remains light.   

***   

“Yes, daddy, we’re on schedule,” Victoria says as she walks around Lex’s study.  She passes by an aquarium that Lex had thoughtfully had installed for her, holding her cell phone by her ear.  “Lex is playing hard to get, but I’m sure I can make him come around,” she continues, shooting Lex, who’s playing pool, a teasing smile.  “Bye, daddy.”  

As Lex moves to the other end of the pool table closer to Victoria after sinking a ball, she says, “He wants to know if you’re selling this castle after we sell out your father.”  

He moves the white cue ball on the purple felt-covered pool table until it’s in the ideal position to sink a stripe ball into the side pocket.  He leans over and positions the cue stick.  “Why?  Does he want to ship it back over to Scotland?”   

After successfully sinking the ball into the correct pocket, he rises and moves over to Victoria to kiss her.  A throat clearing has Lex pulling back from Victoria slightly to look towards the doorway, where Amy is standing holding a drinks tray.  

As she starts to walk towards them, Lex straightens up and asks, “Amy.  Where’s your mom?”    

She stops in front of them.  “Uh, flu I think,” she lies.  “She asked me to cover for the afternoon.”  

“Have you met Victoria?”  

Amy’s eyes narrow slightly.  “No, not officially.”  

“She’s going to be staying with us,” he tells her, and Victoria stares up at him with a besotted look on her face before shooting the girl a quick wink and a smile. 

Which disappears when Amy tips the tray, spilling its contents all over Victoria’s pants.  While Lex jerks back to avoid being splashed, Victoria, who is leaning against the pool table, doesn’t have that option, and so she – and her designer pants – get thoroughly soaked.  

“I am so sorry!” Amy says to the floor as she hurriedly crouches down and starts to gather the heavy glassware that had thankfully not shattered on impact.  As Lex crouches down to help, she roughly runs her hand through the mess of Victoria’s pants in the guise of removing the excess liquid but really only ruining it instead, wishing the drinks had been hot enough to burn her.  “I’ll go get something to clean this up.”  

Amy is hurrying out with the tray when Victoria says accusingly, “She spilled that on purpose!”  

Stopping in place before she can exit the study, Amy looks over her shoulder.  Lex, still crouched on the floor, looks up at Victoria.    

“It was a mistake,” he says.  “Wasn’t it, Amy?”    

“Sure,” she replies, and not all that convincingly, before striding out of the study, her booted heels clacking on the hardwood floor.  

Victoria tells him, “She’s clearly got a thing for you, Lex.”  

Lex’s smile fades.  In all the years they’ve known each other, Victoria has never once displayed any signs of jealousy over the other women in his life.  As he dabs through the mess on her pants with a napkin, he remarks, “Never took you for the jealous type.”  

When that fails to take the look of displeasure off Victoria’s face, he gently explains with a smile, “Her parents are a fixture.  I brought them here from Metropolis.”  

“Then send them back,” she demands.  

Unfortunately for her, Lex refuses to give in.  Seeing that he won’t be catering to her whim this time, she storms away.    

Lex sighs before pulling out his phone to call the Kent Farm.  

***   

Years of watching her parents and popular media have told Clara that a man only buys so many flowers for their partner for two reasons – as a celebration of some kind or as an apology.  As she drives over to the mansion with every white tulip they had at the farm, she can’t help but wonder which this is.  

Since an entire crate of flowers should be far too heavy for her to carry far, Clara leaves it in the kitchen – knowing instinctively that Victoria is unlikely to enter that room and so she won’t be spoiling Lex’s surprise – and instead carries a small bouquet of tulips for Lex to examine as she goes to one of the rooms on the first floor that Mrs. Palmer directs her to.  It’s a room she’s never been in before, which isn’t surprising considering the sheer size of the mansion.  When she peaks through the gap in the opened door to see if she’ll be interrupting anything, she surprisingly sees Lex on his hands and knees by the fireplace, lifting a cushion from a couch.    

“Looking for something?” Clara asks as she enters, glancing around the room with interest.    

Besides an impressive fireplace with an actual crest fixed above it, there are two couches on either side with a coffee table in the middle.  That’s the only “normal” part of the room, as the rest of the room seems to be dedicated to featuring weapons of all kinds.  Tapestries showcasing battles are hung on the walls along with ancient weapons, including different types of swords and even a mace.  Suits of armor from various nations and eras are on display, and an actual cannon sits in the corner.  The room is also clearly undergoing some sort of renovation as there’s a scaffolding with cans of paint on top and sheets on the floor around it.  

“My watch.”  Lex shoots her a small smile seeing a bouquet of white tulips in her arms.  “The tulips look great.”  

Seeing his questioning glance, Clara tells him, “The rest of them are in your kitchen.”  She puts the bouquet down on the coffee table in front of him.  “You really cleaned us out.  Mom said if you want some more, you’ll have to call Holland.”  

His lips twitch.  He pulls out a tulip and smells it.  “They’re Victoria’s favorite,” he explains.  

Just as he says so, the bouquet goes flying off the table and lands in a heap on the floor.    

Lex stands in surprise.  “What was that?”  

Clara looks around but she can’t see what could’ve caused the bouquet to be swept off the table.  Warily, she bends over to gather the flowers.    

As Lex walks over to help, she can’t help but comment, “You and Victoria must be getting pretty close.”   

“You seem surprised.”  

Clara mumbles, “She just doesn’t seem like your type,” even as she knows it’s not exactly accurate.  Victoria may have been dismissive of her and rather condescending, but that doesn’t really mean anything.  Not everyone in the world is nice and friendly, after all, and who’s to say Lex only likes nice people?  Besides, Victoria not only has a beautiful face and figure, she’s smart too, seeing as she’s the VP of her father’s company.  No doubt she and Lex have a lot in common.  Why wouldn’t she be Lex’s type?  The fact that they “have a past” indicates she’s exactly someone Lex would go for.    

Lex smiles, one that makes it clear he considers her naïve.  “Relationships aren’t always about love, Clara.  Sometimes they’re about mutual goals.”  

She flushes at that and winces.  “Sorry.  It’s none of my business, really.”    

As she gets up, the white tulips once more carefully arranged, Lex tells her, “It’s okay.  I admire your standards.  Don’t lose that.”  

When he goes back to his search, she can’t help but ask, “Don’t you have another watch?” 

He looks up.  “I’ve got hundreds.  This one’s special.  My mother gave it to me right before she died.”  

Knowing how precious that makes his watch to him, Clara looks around the room with her x-ray vision.  “I don’t see it.”  

“What are you, part bloodhound?”  

Clara flushes again for nearly giving herself away.  “No, I- I live on a farm.  I’m pretty good at finding needles in haystacks.  How about I go check your study?” she offers before retreating upstairs.  

She’s surprised to find Victoria sitting behind Lex’s desk viewing something on his laptop.  She wouldn’t have thought twice about it except Victoria looks surprised – and almost horrified – at her entrance, and she hastily logs out, as though she doesn’t want Clara to see what she’s been doing.  It instantly makes Clara suspicious, but before she can say anything, she hears loud pounding coming from upstairs.  Shooting Victoria a wary glance, she hurries out of the room to investigate the noise.  Victoria naturally follows, whether to find out what the noise is or to stop her before she can tell Lex, Clara doesn’t know or particularly care.  

They meet up with Lex in the hall by the staircase, and the three of them quickly climb up the stairs.  When they get to the landing where all the noise is coming from, they find themselves standing across from a closed door with bright lights emanating through the gaps in the frame.  The noise is from the closed door repeatedly and violently slamming back and forth against its frame.  

“What’s going on?” Victoria asks.  

Lex extends his arm beside him, to prevent Victoria from stepping forward and possibly encountering danger.    

“Wait here.”    

As he slowly approaches the door, refusing to be left behind, Clara closely follows.  To her surprise, Victoria actually seems to almost want to pull her back, before in the end letting her go.  Clara can’t think about that, however, as the nearer they get to the door, the more noises are heard.  Then suddenly, everything stops and the lights disappear.    

Lex, whose hand is on the doorknob, turns his head to look back at Clara.  Before he can turn the doorknob, the door is forcefully yanked open, loud growls and other noises suddenly roar from within the room, and Lex is thrown backwards.  Clara winces at the assault on her hearing, and only her quick speed allows her to save Lex from crashing painfully onto the floor.  

By the time Lex signals that he’s okay and straightens back up, the noises have disappeared.  Sharing wary looks with each other, Lex and Clara carefully enter the now pitch black room.  When Lex turns on the light switch, rather than the normal fluorescent lighting, black lights turn on instead, revealing utter chaos.  The sheets and pillows on the bed have been torn apart, with bits of feathers still floating in the air.  The black lights illuminate the brightly painted words like “Leave,” “Get out,” and “Go now” written all over the walls, even over the headboard.     

Lex and Clara share another grim look before he hurries her out into the hallway, dialing 911 as he does.    

“What’s going on?” Victoria asks.  

Lex carefully ushers her away, preventing her from seeing the vandalized room.  

“Yes, this is Lex Luthor...”   

***  

As Clara makes her way towards the entrance of the school, she sees a giant American Red Cross tent erected on the school grounds.  Despite the cold, there are already a couple of students lining up, and Lana with her trusty clipboard is speaking to other students milling around.    

Lana has followed her suggestion, and signs with the slogan, “Give the Gift of Life!  Donate!” are hanging about everywhere in the school hallways.  Clara is heading towards the gym when Chloe joins her, grumbling at the unfairness of being required to play volleyball during gym class – an ordeal considering the blonde’s general lack of hand-eye coordination – when Lana gets a pass just because she’s chairing the blood drive.  

“You want to be out there in the cold instead?”   

Chloe stops in her tracks to think on the matter for a minute.  

Rolling her eyes, Clara gently tugs her towards the gym doors.  “Come on, before we’re late.”  

Huffing in annoyance, Chloe reluctantly follows.  She only perks up when Clara mentions the vandalism of Victoria’s room, and is clearly frustrated by having been placed on opposing teams since she can’t interrogate Clara.  

When the bell finally rings, allowing them to leave, the blonde hurriedly pulls Clara towards the exit when they spot Pete waiting for them. 

“What’s up, Pete?”  

“Troy was attacked by a ghost,” he quietly announces.  

“Tell me everything,” Chloe demands.  

Eyeing the hallway teeming with students, Clara suggests, “Maybe we should do this inside the Torch office?”  

Clearly displeased with the delay but seeing the wisdom in Clara’s suggestion, the blonde practically sprints there, dragging Pete and Clara in her wake.  As soon as they enter, Pete launches into his tale about how Troy had been attacked by a ghost in the boy’s locker room.    

“So you didn’t see anything?” Chloe asks incredulously.  

Pete shakes his head.  “By the time I got around the corner, Troy was already on the floor.  And he’s not faking it either – I saw the marks on his skin and they’ve definitely been made by dumbbells.”  

“Well, what about the voice he heard?”  

“What are you thinking, Chloe, that the locker room is haunted?” Clara remarks dryly.  

She shoots her an unimpressed look.  “Not unless the meteor rocks can conjure up the ghost of dearly departed jock straps, which I seriously doubt.”  

“Well, it’s nice to see you still have your standards,” Clara quips, and shares a smile with Pete.  

Chloe rolls her eyes at them.  She’s about to ask Clara what had happened at the mansion, to see if the two incidents are linked, when they suddenly hear Whitney’s voice.  

“I don’t have the time right now.”  

When the trio look out into the hallway, they see Lana and Whitney standing only a few feet away from them.  Whitney has his arms crossed defensively across his chest while Lana appears to be clearly frustrated with him.    

“Look, if you don’t want to help me with this blood drive, then just say so.”  

“That’s not it,” Whitney quietly insists.  

“That doesn’t look pretty,” Chloe mutters.    

“Let’s close the door,” Clara murmurs, knowing they shouldn’t be overhearing this, only for Chloe to grip her arm tightly, preventing her from moving – unless she wants to betray her strength and break Chloe’s fingers.  

“Then what is it?” Lana asks, trying her best to keep her voice calm. 

Whitney starts to look more fed up.  “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?”  

“No, it’s not okay!  You’ve been avoiding me for weeks and every time I ask you what’s wrong, you just push me away.”  

When he turns away from her, Lana moves closer, trying to get him to meet her eyes.  “I’m worried about you.”  

When Whitney finally meets her gaze, he appears rather indifferent.  “Don’t be.  I just need some space.”  

She sighs with exasperation.  “If that’s what you want, fine.  But if you can’t confide in me, I don’t even know why we’re going out in the first place.”  

Leaving Whitney to stare after her in frustration, Lana storms away, only to see them watching her from the opened doorway.  

“Oh quick!  Pretend we weren’t watching,” Chloe orders.  

All three of them look down at the desk, which is devoid of anything that would explain why they’re just standing around it.  Before they can remedy the situation, Lana enters the Torch office.  

“Hey Lana, how’s it going?” Clara greets, trying to sound like they haven’t overheard her and Whitney’s fight.  

She shoots them a tight smile.  “Not great, but thanks for the courtesy clueless.”  

“Would it cheer you up if we offered to volunteer a pint later today?” Chloe suggests.  

Lana’s smile turns more genuine.  “Let’s find out.”  She lifts her clipboard and starts to write Chloe’s name on the sign-up sheet.  “How about 3:45?  That’s open.”  

“Works for me.”  

“There, better already,” she declares.  “Pete?  What time can we schedule you?”  

“Come on, Pete,” Clara cajoles, seeing him hesitate.  “Selflessly giving of yourself to save others.  We girls love that, don’t we?”  

Pete’s face tightens, and for a moment Clara doesn’t understand why.  Even when it hits her, she’s still confused, since it isn’t like Pete hasn’t been making similar remarks.  Considering how much – and how often – he talks about girls, how was she to know it’s a sensitive subject?  

Pete turns to Lana and gives her a fake smile.  “What time have you got?”  

Lana fumbles with her pen.  “I have a slot after Chloe available.”   

“Sounds good.”  

Once Lana awkwardly waves and leaves, Clara turns to Pete.  “I’m sorry, Pete.  I didn’t mean-”  

“It’s fine.  Listen, I’m going to go track down Troy, see if there’s anything else I missed.  See you guys later.” 

Clara stares forlornly at Pete’s retreating back.  

“Yikes,” Chloe says, though she doesn’t seem all that concerned when Clara looks over at her.  “Let me see it.”  

Clara thinks about insisting they discuss Pete instead, but the look in the blonde’s eyes has her reluctantly tugging free from her backpack a copy of the picture of Victoria's vandalized room one of the deputies had taken.    

Looking at the photo of the word “Leave” painted on a wall, she remarks, “It doesn’t leave much room for interpretation.”  

Clara agrees.  “It was pretty weird.  I mean, the door was shaking, there were all these weird loud noises and light shows.  When we got close, the door blew open and Lex said he felt something brush past him.”  

“Maybe his Scottish castle came complete with a poltergeist.”  

Clara shoots her a pointed look of exasperation.  “That just happened to start vandalizing a room now, months after he’s already been living there?”    

When Chloe just shrugs, Clara says, “The police say it’s vandals.  Guess they don’t know many ghosts who write in spray paint and own a black light.”  

Chloe rolls her eyes, ignoring Clara’s tone.    

“So... Pete.”   

The blonde sighs.  “Dunno what’s up with him.  He’s been real flaky lately too.”  

Clara bites her bottom lip.  “I thought he’s been doing okay, but clearly he’s not over Jodi.”  

Chloe frowns.  “I’m not sure that’s it, exactly.  I mean, I don’t think he’s still mourning her or even the possibility of her at this point.  I don’t know, maybe something else is up.”  

Clara pointedly stares at her.  

“What?”  

“You’re far closer to him than I am,” she says.  “Talk to him, see what’s up.”  

“Fine,” Chloe says reluctantly, which makes her more than a little suspicious.  

“Since when do you not want to find out whatever’s making anybody act weird?”  

Clara purposefully stares at her until Chloe at last gives in with a sigh.    

“We’re still not okay,” she admits.  “We’re friends, but we’re not…  friends , you know?”  

“Well, maybe finding out what’s up with him will help,” Clara says encouragingly.  

“Maybe,” she says doubtfully before changing the subject.  “So how goes the blood drive?”  

“I’m not doing much yet.  Actually, I’m going over to Lana’s place tonight to help.”  

Clara braces herself for a possible jealous reaction from Chloe, but surprisingly the blonde just nods.  Clearly she really had meant it when she’d said she wouldn’t be acting out at her friendship with Lana.  

Clara inwardly sighs with relief.  

***  

Even though Clara hasn’t had a chance to tell Lex what she’s seen in his study, Lex is already aware, having left out the breadcrumbs for Victoria to follow to see what she’ll do.  Should she have left his “research” on Cadmus Labs alone, he would’ve been more than happy to proceed as they’d planned, to take over both of their parents’ companies for their own.  Of course, given his own level of curiosity, he would also have been fine if she’d just been looking for the sake of satisfying her own interest.  That Victoria seems to be going for the third option – double-crossing him – is not unexpected, though still disappointing.  

At least there’s some recompense for waiting until everything falls into place – Victoria is an attractive woman who’s more than happy to sate his carnal appetites.    

They’re kissing in the sitting room turned armory room on the ground floor – because the door there is one of the thinnest in the mansion – when Lionel, in his typical dramatic fashion, bursts into the room.  

“Lex,” he declares as he strides across the floor towards where they’re seated on the couch.  “You have disappointed me.”  

Lex smiles widely.  He continues to caress Victoria’s back, and she takes the opportunity to start to massaging his neck and shoulders.    

“Hi dad.  It’s good to see you too.”  

“Would you mind telling me what she’s doing here?”  

“Right now?” he says insolently.  “Working on my neck.  But knowing her, I think that’s just a start.”  He ends with a lascivious grin.  

Lionel chuckles.  “Could this be… a ploy to get my attention?  Well done, it worked.” 

“I know this is gonna come as a shock, but not everything in my life revolves around you.” 

Lionel pauses in lifting up a bottle of wine from the drinks table.  “Oh, I understand.  So you’re simply… being swindled.” 

Victoria flips her hair back as her hand trails down Lex’s chest.  

“Would you excuse us, Miss Hardwick?  My son and I are going have a little chat about family loyalty.”  

“It’s alright,” she tells Lionel before turning back to Lex.  “I’ll run us a bath.”  She gives Lex a lingering kiss and looks over at Lionel to see his reaction before standing up to leave.  

“I’ll be there shortly,” Lex tells her, before stretching out his legs and putting his feet up on the coffee table.  

Victoria stops beside Lionel, who’s pouring himself a glass of wine.  “I’ll send Sir Harry your regards.” 

“Swell,” Lionel says, not bothering to watch her leave.  

Lex pointedly glances at the door until it shuts behind Victoria.  “This is hardly business,” he mock whispers.    

Lionel loudly declares, “Generations of Luthors would beg to differ.  It’s always business, especially where the Hardwicks are concerned.”  

When Lex doesn’t seem bothered, he continues.  “Lex, can’t you see she was sent to distract you?  Sir Harry has been nipping away at LuthorCorp for months!”  

Lex looks at him innocently.  “LuthorCorp is  your  company.”    

Lionel chuckles at that before moving closer to the door.  

Lex puts his feet down before standing up and steadily walking towards Lionel.  “I’m just one of its many  expendable  employees, as you made abundantly clear when you exiled me to this charming cow town.”  

“Empires are not brought down by outside forces.  They are destroyed by weaknesses from within!”  

When Lex doesn’t appear moved, Lionel says quietly, “Lex, I’ve told you this.  Smallville is your test.  Right now you’re failing.”  

Lex’s reply is also quiet.  “Thanks for the update, but I know exactly what I’m doing.”  

“No, you don’t.”  He raises his voice again.  “She is playing the only card she’s got and you are falling for it hook, line, and sinker.”  

“My personal life is my business,” Lex retorts as he turns back towards the couch.  

“Not when it affects my company!  Then it’s my business.”  Lionel moves closer.  “Lex, listen to me.  If you sell out your family-” he hands over the other wine-filled glass “-then you will truly be alone in the world.”  

Lex eyes the proffered wine and wonders if they’ve sold it to Victoria yet, who has undoubtedly been listening to the entire exchange outside the door.  Still, parts of their conversation aren’t just for show, as Lionel’s last point illustrates.  His father wouldn’t be a good businessman if he isn’t worried about Lex double-crossing him.  

Victoria, who is indeed eavesdropping, startles when Amy appears.  The young teen is once again disobeying her mother’s direct instructions forbidding her from entering the mansion, in hopes of seeing Lex.   

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Not finishing the sentence, Amy walks past her, as Victoria worriedly eyes the door, wondering if they’d heard her inside.    

As Amy walks away, she mutters, “You don’t deserve him.”  

Victoria pointedly ignores her as she once again leans closer to the door.  

*** 

Clara and Lana sit outside on the wicker sofa on Lana’s porch as they go through all the papers for the blood drive.    

“I’ve got an opening at 5:00,” Clara says. 

“I can shift mine to 4:30 at station B,” Lana replies, rifling through the pages on her clipboard.  “Which makes us…”  

“Done,” Clara declares, jotting down the final changes.  

“You’re kidding.  Everything?”  

She smiles.  “We own this town.”  

“You are such a lifesaver, Clara,” Lana says happily as she stands and stretches, before leaning on the railing across from her.  

“It’s amazing that you do all these different things,” Clara says admiringly.  

“Just trying to find my place in the world.”    

Clara can sympathize with that.  Despite Cassandra claiming her destiny is to save people, she’s not sure how she’s supposed to do that if she has to keep her powers a secret for fear of discovery.   

Lana thankfully snaps her out of her thoughts.  “I can’t thank you enough.”  

“It’s a great cause.  How could I not help?”  

“Ask Whitney,” she says, before sighing.  “He’s, uh… I don’t know where he’s been lately.”  

Clara tries not to fidget in discomfort.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”  

Lana shakes her head.  “It’s just… if he can’t be honest with me, if he doesn’t trust me, then why are we still together?”  

Clara stands, unable to sit still.  Unfortunately, such talk from Lana makes her want to reveal something to her, if only to prevent her from breaking up with Whitney.  

Spotting Nell peering at them from inside the house, Clara eagerly switches topics.  “Do you ever think it’s strange that my dad and your aunt used to date?”  

“Nell doesn’t really talk about it much.  Whatever happened, I guess she took it kind of hard.”      

Clara shakes her head.  “I’m just glad that you and I are friends despite… all of that history.”  

“Me too,” Lana says with a smile.  

The front door opens and Nell steps out, pretending she hasn’t seen them through the window.  “Lana, are you still out-- Clara.  Do you know what time it is?”  

Clara’s hand goes to the watch hidden under her jacket sleeve.  “No.  But I’m guessing it’s late.”  

“Smart kid.”  

Nell smiles tightly before going back inside.    

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lana says with a rueful smile.   

Clara debates on not saying anything since it really isn’t any of her business and not something that should be coming from her, but in the end, she can’t bear to let her friend suffer.  “Hey, Lana?” 

When she turns around, Clara swallows roughly before saying, “I know you’re mad at Whitney, but… he may be going through something.  I don’t know what,” she adds when she sees Lana trying to speak, “but it’s not like him to treat you like that, and I think he probably needs you even if he isn’t saying it.”  

When Lana looks thoughtful at that, she says, “Have a good night,” before leaving.  

***  

The next day, Clara regrets ever telling Lana anything as she keeps trying to talk to her about it rather than talking to Whitney, despite Clara insisting she really doesn’t know what’s going on with him.    

She groans as she ducks into a classroom to avoid Lana’s notice.  This is what she gets for snooping and being nosy and getting in the middle of her friend's relationship, even if she had only been trying to help.  After all, isn’t this the reason why there are such idioms as ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’?  

Clara’s about to – gently – smash her head against the wall when, because this is an ambush Clara day, Amy suddenly appears.  

“Hi Clara.”  

Clara starts in shock.  Amy has never once approached her at school.    

“Hi, Amy,” she says cautiously.  “Is everything okay?”  

“Yeah.  Just, um, you know…” she waves her hand.  “All the weirdness at the mansion.  Everything was fine until Victoria got there.”  

Clara just looks at her, not sure what she should say to that.  

As though it just hit her, Amy says, “Oh, well, you’re Lex’s friend.  What do you think of her?”  

This isn’t helping to soothe her weirdar.  If anything, it’s only making Clara more suspicious.    

“I really don’t know her that well,” she prevaricates. 

“Mmm.  Well, I think I figured out why she’s sticking around.  I saw her in Lex’s bedroom going through his things.”  

Clara narrows her eyes.  “What were you doing in Lex’s bedroom?”  

Amy hesitates for long enough that Clara knows she’s trying to think of a good excuse.  

“Helping my mom,” she says at last with a smile before looking away.  

“And Victoria didn’t see you?” Clara asks, trying to keep her skepticism at bay.  

“No,” she says, shaking her head.  “See, Lex is the only one who’s ever treated me like… I was there.”  

As Amy walks away, smiling sadly, Clara feels a pang of sympathy for her, but she also can’t help but stare after her with clear suspicion in her eyes.  

***   

Clara spends the better part of the afternoon while doing her chores wondering if she should talk to Lex about her concerns.  She really has legitimately come across Victoria on his laptop – though of course she could’ve been using it at Lex’s invitation – and while Amy claims to have seen her snooping around in his bedroom, it’s clear she also has an agenda.  Plus, after her experiences with trying to help Whitney and Lana, she’s hesitant to insert herself in between Lex and Victoria for fear of intruding where she’s not wanted.  On the other hand, Lex is her friend, and if Victoria is sabotaging him in some way, he needs to know.  

When Clara enters his study, she’s unsurprised to see him sitting behind his desk, working on his laptop.  She is surprised, however, when he closes it as though afraid she might take a peek.  

“Clara, what brings you over so late?  Doing a little ghost hunting?”  

“No.  I came here to talk to you about Victoria…” she pauses and looks around, wanting to be sure they won’t be overheard.  “Where is she?”  

“She’s taking a bath.  Why, is there a problem?”  

“When I was in here to look for your watch, I saw her…” she trails off.  “I don’t really know how to say this.”  

“She was going through the files on my computer?”  

Clara whips her head up.  “Yeah, how’d you know?”  Looking a little embarrassed, she asks, “Did she have permission to use your computer?”  

“No, but very little happens in this house without my knowledge.”  

She stares at him, and her brows furrow, perplexed at the way he’s just calmly sitting there.  “You don’t seem very upset about this.”  

He smiles knowingly.  “We’re playing chess, Clara.  It’s a game.  Like I said, we’ve known each other a long time.”  

Clara sits down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.  “You don’t love her and she goes behind your back… Why do you want to keep her around?”    

“It’s complicated,” he says with an odd little smile.  “Thanks for the heads up.”  

“That’s what friends are for.”  She pauses before adding, “I guess I shouldn’t even bring up that Amy’s got an… obsession with you.”  

“It’s a teenage crush, nothing more.”  There’s an odd weight to his words and Clara flushes, unable to maintain eye contact.  

“You ever get information you wish you hadn’t?” she asks in a bid to change the subject.    

“In my experience, there’s no such thing as too much information.”  

“I saw a prescription in Wh- a friend’s bag for amlodipine.  It’s a-” 

“Heart medication.” 

When Clara looks at him quizzically, wondering just how he’d known that, Lex says, “My mother was on it before she had her surgery.”  

“Is that what-” Clara stops herself.  “I’m sorry.”  

He shakes his head.  “It’s okay.  She was sick for a long time, Clara.”  He leans forward on his elbows.  “The watch I lost?  My mom gave it to me when she knew it was getting close.”  

“Lex…”   

He smiles.  “She found a Napoleon franc from 1806 and had it made into the face.”  

“Why Napoleon?”  

“You ever see the painting  The Coronation of Napoleon  by David?”  

She shakes her head.  “No.”  

“Napoleon’s mother couldn’t make it to his coronation,” Lex explains.  “But when he commissioned it, Napoleon told David to paint her in as if she were there, right in the center.  Even though she couldn’t be there physically, he brought her into his life through sheer force of will, there to share in his greatness.”  

She leans forward and gently squeezes his hands.  “That’s a good story.”  

His lips twitch.  “It’s a good watch.”  

“I’m sorry, Lex.  I hope you find it.”  

“Me too.”  

***  

Clara is on her way out of the mansion when she hears a faint scream.  She stops and starts to backtrack as she activates her super hearing, hoping to locate where the sound had come from.  She hears the sound of heavy glass crashing onto the floor and she zips up the stairs and straight into the bathroom where she’d heard the crash.  Seeing a leg draped over the side of the tub with the rest of the body submerged in the water, Clara hurriedly pulls the person out.  Thankfully Victoria starts coughing almost immediately, and she breathes a sigh of relief.  She gently lays her on the floor before lifting up the silk robe and covering her with it.    

“You’re gonna be okay,” she says as reassuringly as she can.  

Clara barely gets the words out before she finds herself being flung across the room by an unseen force and into a floor-length mirror, shattering it.  X-ray vision reveals a skeleton heading for the door, and she hears a piece of the mirror on the floor breaking as the person steps on it as they run out of the room.    

Seeing blood left on the mirror, she carefully tucks the pieces away before going back to assist Victoria.  

***  

“Where’s Pete?” Chloe asks as she walks up the loft stairs and only sees Clara.  

“I couldn’t get ahold of him.  Were you able to speak to him?” 

Chloe sighs.  “No.  I even called his house but apparently he was out somewhere.  Well, maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t here for this one.  You know how he feels about anything Luthor-related.”  She shakes her head.  “So?  Show me.”  

Clara holds out the two pieces of the mirror that had broken when the attempted murderer had stepped on it, cutting their foot in the process.  She points out the red stain to Chloe.  “It’s definitely blood.”  

“Doesn’t exactly fit the Casper paradigm,” Chloe notes.  “Which means that whoever attacked you and Victoria in the bathroom… was invisible?” she finishes skeptically.   

Clara just shrugs, since she can’t explain it either.   

Chloe takes the other piece of the mirror and closely examines it.  “What’s this green stuff?”  

Although Clara hadn’t felt any weaker even when she’d been holding the pieces, an alarm rings through her when she hears “green stuff,” too used to associating meteor rocks and pain with anything green.  She moves further away from Chloe and towards the desk lamp, as though she wants to take a closer look at the bloodied mirror herself.   

Chloe puts down the mirror and rubs her fingers together before smelling them.  “Smells like roses.”  She’s about to take another look when she sees that her fingers are invisible.  “Uh… Clara?”  

At the note of uncertainty in Chloe’s voice, Clara’s eyes snap towards where she’s holding up her hand.    

The tips of her fingers are invisible.  

“What happened?”  

“I just touched it!”  Chloe looks at her fingers, moving them around to see if she can see them.  “Okay, I’m now officially weirded out.  Wh- what is this?”  

“I don’t know, but if you rubbed that all over your body you’d be-”  

“Naked?”  

Clara pointedly concludes, “You’d be invisible.”  

Chloe snags a tissue paper from Clara’s desk and wipes her fingers with it, and watches with relief as they thankfully become visible again.  

“Okay, so what’s our next move?  Should we call the police?”  

“And report an invisible person?”  

Chloe wordlessly concedes the point.    

Clara continues.  “We need a viable suspect.”  

“Well, who’s got a problem with Lex’s British fling?  Besides you?” Chloe quips.  

She ignores the last bit.  “Amy Palmer.”  

“Her parents are on the mansion’s house staff, right?”  

Clara nods.  “Amy said she saw Victoria snooping around in Lex’s bedroom.  She said Victoria didn’t see her.”  

“Well, no wonder.”  Chloe suddenly freezes and grabs Clara’s arm.  “Wait!  Amy gave blood, didn't she?”  

“3:45, station B.”  

“Wow, you’ve got a freakishly good memory,” Chloe says with an odd look, before shaking her head.  “Okay, I’ll see if I can get the blood type on the broken piece of glass and check it against Amy’s.  It may not tell us if she did it, but at least if the results don’t match it’ll help us rule her out.”  

“Great.  Let me know as soon as you find out.”  

“Top of my speed dial,” she promises.   

***

Since even when Chloe finds a match it isn’t going to be conclusive, Clara decides to track down Amy herself to ask her a few questions.  She keeps an eye peeled for her all day, but they don’t share any classes together and she’s nowhere to be seen during lunch, so Clara doesn’t have much luck trying to get ahold of her.  Deciding that her best bet is to catch her as she’s leaving school, Clara hurries for the doors as soon as the bell rings, signaling the end of class.  Unfortunately, despite waiting for a good half an hour, she doesn’t see Amy anywhere.  

Huffing in frustration, Clara decides to stop by the Beanery to treat herself to a cup of coffee before heading over to the mansion.  Besides, she’s promised her mother that she’ll run an errand for her at Nell’s, so she may as well kill two birds with one stone.    

Clara’s luck apparently isn’t with her as she runs into Lana on the way, but thankfully Lana sees the ‘For Sale’ sign on the window of her aunt’s shop, which thoroughly distracts her from trying to interrogate – nicely, since it’s Lana after all – Clara over the whole situation with Whitney.    

Lana strides right into the store and doesn’t even wait for the door to close behind her before accusingly demanding of Nell, “Why didn’t you tell me you were selling the shop?”   

Clara hesitates by the door and contemplates leaving the two of them to it, but she is here for a reason and it’s not like they’re all alone in the store.  There are customers milling about, so eyeing the duo, Clara heads for the furthest corner away from them, to give them a semblance of privacy.  

Nell continues to arrange a bouquet of flowers as she says, “I’m sorry, sweetie.  I only made the decision this morning.”  

“And when were you planning on telling me this?”  

As several of the customers leave, Nell makes her way to the cash register.  “Lana, I don’t understand why you’re so upset.  I mean, you’ve never shown any interest in this store before, and now I’m supposed to consult you?”  

Lana determinedly follows her aunt.  “Are you selling the movie theater as well?”  

“Yes, Lana, it’s part of the building.”  

“You know how much it means to me.”    

Nell sighs.  “Lana, if I had made business decisions based on sentiment, I would have gone bust a long time ago.”    

Lana unfortunately doesn’t look impressed.  

Nell softens her voice.  “Unfortunately, one screen can’t compete with a multiplex, Lana.  Besides, the movie theater’s been closed for months now.  I’ll just sell the building and relocate to a smaller store.”      

“There has to be another way,” she pleads.  

“Look, I’m just thinking of our future.  I want to be able to send you to any college you want.”  Nell finally seems to realize Clara is standing there, waiting.  “Clara, what can I do for you?”  

“I’m here to pick up a check for my mom?” she says somewhat awkwardly. 

Nell nods and gets the envelope from under the cash register and hands it over.  Lana walks out the door and Clara shoots Nell another awkward smile before following.    

Unsurprising given the conversation, Lana heads next door to the Talon, the old movie theater.  Canvas papers are taped over the doors and windows, and the place is covered in a layer of dust.  Clara eyes the boxes, the white drapes covering various pieces of furniture, and the half-finished construction still littering the place.  

“Trying to score the last box of Jujubes before this place is sold?” she jokes.  

Lana smiles.  “Those things could probably survive a nuclear winter.” 

“You must have a thing about bad sound and stale popcorn.”  

Her gaze travels all around the space.  “My parents met here.  My dad worked the concession stand during college, and one day, my mom came to see Close Encounters of the Third Kind .  She got bored.”  Lana chuckles.  

Clara can’t help but ask, “How do you get bored watching  Close Encounters ?”  

“I don’t know,” she says with a smile.  “Maybe she had a thing against aliens.”  

Clara shakes her head, trying her best to smile even as that hits a little too close to home.  

“She hung out in the lobby and spent the entire night talking to my dad.  They’d only been a few years apart in high school but they never really noticed each other.  That night?  They just clicked.”  Lana slowly turns in a circle.  “I know it sounds kinda crazy but… I feel that whatever tangible evidence I have of my parents’ existence is slowly being chipped away.”    

“Sometimes letting go is the only way to move forward,” Clara tells her with a sympathetic smile.  

Lana nods.  “I guess you’re right.  Besides, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”  

Leaving Lana to reminisce and get her fill of the Talon, Clara quietly leaves.  

***   

Spotting Lex’s car outside the Beanery, Clara hurries inside and makes a beeline for where he’s sitting on the couch.  

“Hey, how’s Victoria?” she asks as she takes a seat in the armchair across from him.  

Lex puts the magazine he’d been reading down on the coffee table to give her his full attention.  “She’s resting up in Metropolis for a few days until I can get some answers.”  

“Probably a good idea.”    

He takes a sip of his coffee.  “Victoria’s grateful you saved her life, as am I.”  

“I’m just glad I could help.”  

“Hi Lex.” 

They both look up at the interruption.  

“Amy.  This is a surprise.”  

“Oh, well, I just saw your car outside, so I thought I’d come in and say hi.”  She gives an awkward wave.  

Clara sees the way she’s holding the wrist of her right hand with her left before she lets her wrist go, and it leaves a distinct watch-like bulge on her long sleeve shirt.  Suspicion rearing its head, a quick use of her x-ray vision shows her a watch with a distinct face on it, one that is clearly the coin Lex had described.   

“Well, I appreciate the gesture,” Lex says with a polite smile. 

“So now that Miss Hardwick is gone, hopefully things will be back to normal.” 

“Victoria will be back in a few days.” 

Amy doesn’t look pleased.  She gives a small, “Oh.” 

“She’s really not as bad as you think, Amy,” Lex tells her.  

“Oh, I- I never thought that.”  She laughs nervously.  “Well, bye.”  

Seeing Clara glaring at Amy’s back, Lex’s smile fades.  “What is it?”  

She grimly turns to him.  “Amy’s the one behind the attacks on Victoria.”  

“Are you sure?”  

She is, but she needs to say it in a way that makes sense and that doesn’t give away any hint of her powers.  Giving a firm nod, she adds, “She’s made no secret over the fact that she wants Victoria out of your life.  In fact, she even came to see me about it, telling me she saw Victoria snooping in your bedroom, hoping I’d talk to you.  And I just saw your watch on her wrist.”  

Lex grimly drains the rest of the coffee in his mug.  “Well, only one way to find out.”  

***  

They take their time to make sure Amy gets home first.  When they finally arrive at the mansion, Lex and Clara take a detour to the small separate building that’s part of the servants’ quarters and where the Palmers currently live.    

Mrs. Palmer is clearly surprised to see Lex.  She had not only expected him to be gone for a couple more hours, but he has never once come by their home.    

“Did you need something, Mr. Luthor?”  

When they explain the situation, she reluctantly leads them to Amy’s bedroom.   

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Luthor.  Amy’s been having some trouble in school, but I can’t imagine she would actually try to hurt Miss Hardwick.”  

As they inspect the room, Clara says, “I hope I’m wrong.”    

Seeing a cabinet, Lex opens it to find a shrine dedicated to him.  Photos of him litter the walls of the cabinet amidst the cutouts of newspaper articles that feature him.  There are even two picture frames, one in the shape of a heart and the other a full-length portrait of him that he’s done for a magazine.     

“Looks like she’s been collecting you,” Clara remarks.  It’s frankly more than a little creepy.  

Seeing a glint of metal, Lex pushes the heart-shaped frame aside and pulls out his missing watch.  “My watch.”  

Mrs. Palmer looks horror-stricken at both the shrine and the theft.  “We had no idea, Mr. Luthor.  Please don’t call the police.”   

“I’m not interested in retribution or publicity, but… Amy needs help.”    

Mrs. Palmer looks at the shrine and can’t deny his claim.    

“Counseling, medical treatments, whatever it takes, just send me the bill.  Even so, I think it’d be best for everyone if you left the mansion tonight.”  

“Yes, of course,” she acquiesces. 

Lex looks at her sadly, for she really had been an exceptional housekeeper, one of the few staff members that he knows doesn't report his activities to his father.  Replacing her is going to be a nightmare.  

As Mrs. Palmer leaves, he closes the cabinet and sighs.  

“You okay?” Clara asks, gently placing her hand on his back.  

Lex allows himself a brief moment to take comfort in that touch before straightening up once more.  “Yeah.  Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

***  

To Mrs. Palmer’s credit, she only packs the bare necessities into the car, clearly unwilling to continue subjecting Lex to Amy.     

Amy stops before she gets in.  “I just wanted to… feel close to you.”  

Lex supposes he could’ve forgiven her if she hadn’t stolen one of the most precious things he owns.  He moves his hand slightly and feels the comfortable familiarity of the watch now back on his wrist.  

When he doesn’t say anything to her, Amy hands over her luggage to her father to put in the trunk, before getting in the car.  

“Jeff is going to pack everything else.  My husband will be back in the morning to pick it up.”  Mrs. Palmer shakes her head.  “Again, Mr. Luthor-”  

“It’s okay, it’s okay.  Drive safely.”  

When they get into the car and drive away, Lex pulls out his cell phone and dials the number to Victoria’s hotel.  “Yes, I’d like to leave a message for Victoria Hardwick.”  

He doesn’t get more than that out before the phone is flung from his hand.  

Lex looks around but he can’t see anyone.  “Who’s there?  Come out and show yourself.”  

He’s punched in the face and knocked to the ground in response.  

*** 

Clara is just entering the loft after completing her chores when she sees Chloe waiting for her.  

“There you are!” the blonde says with some exasperation.  “So I have bad news on the Dracula front.” 

“What?” 

“Our invisible assailant, remember?  The drop of blood found on the mirror was Type A.  Amy Palmer’s is Type O.”  

Clara furrows her brow.  “But she had a shrine to Lex in her room.”  

“She may be Lex-obsessed, but she’s not the one that tried to off Victoria.  Check your paper.”  

Clara looks at the listing of every donor and their recorded blood type.  “Amy’s blood type doesn’t match, but look at Jeff’s.”  

Chloe looks taken aback.  “Her brother?  He’s always been so quiet.”  

“Practically invisible,” Clara notes ominously.  “I gotta warn Lex.  I’ll catch up with you later.”  

With that, Clara hurriedly leaves the loft before zipping over to the mansion.  

***  

When Lex regains consciousness, he finds himself on the floor of the temporary armory room with his hands tied behind his back.  He’s not blindfolded, but while he can hear his assailant, he can’t see him. 

“Don’t you understand?  She loved you.  How could you send her away?!” a male voice cries out. 

“Who are you?”  

“Suddenly you care?  Master Lex with his castle, his plant, his expensive cars.  When did people ever matter to you?”  

Recognizing the voice, he calls out, “Jeff?  Where are you?”  

“I’m surprised you even know my name.”  Lex struggles to sit upright as Jeff continues his rant.  “Did you forget the unspoken rule?  Servants are supposed to be invisible.  We tried to hide, fade into the woodwork.”    

Lex gets his feet under him, though his vision flickers when he stands.  He’s unable to fully stand upright, his back bowed thanks to the way his hands are tied, and he’s swaying whenever he takes a step, but he still makes his way towards where Jeff’s voice is coming from.  

“My parents learned to live with it, pretended it didn’t matter, but Amy wanted more.  And I’m through pretending!”  

Lex finds himself knocked down again, though thankfully this time he still remains conscious.  

“What have I ever done to you?” he pants out as he struggles to pull himself backwards against the wall.  

“Not to me, to Amy.  She loved you and you threw her out like she was nothing!”  

“I thought she was attacking Victoria.”  

“That was me.  I wanted to scare her, make her leave.  I wanted everything back to the way it was for Amy.  But you’re not interested in love,” he scornfully spits.  

“That kind of love could get me arrested.  She’s a little young for me, Jeff.”  

Of course, that sort of logic only makes sense to those who still retain the full use of their mental faculties.  Instead, a sword is pulled off from where it’s hanging on the wall.  As Jeff swings it, it appears to swing through the air by itself.    

“You ruined her life!  Our lives!  I’m not gonna let you hurt her again!”  

The sword flies through the air and stabs into the wood paneled wall right beside Lex’s head.  

Clara, having arrived at the castle, tries to open the door but it’s locked.  X-ray vision reveals two bodies, one with a sword embedded beside his head.  She slams through the door, breaking the lock, and speeds towards them.  

“Lex!” she calls out.  

“Clara!” Lex yells, but before he can do anything else, his head is slammed against the stone wall and he’s rendered unconscious again.    

Seeing Lex’s body crumpled on the floor, she tries to go to him only to find herself pushed back.  She doesn’t feel the same amount of pain around Jeff as she had with Earl, but she does feel nauseous and definitely weaker.  Clearly whatever Jeff’s using to make himself invisible uses meteor rocks.  Clara absently wonders if the quantity or perhaps purity of meteor rock affects her differently, seeing as she’s not in debilitating pain when she’s around Jeff.   

“Stay away from him, Kent.  This is your fault too.”  

X-ray vision reveals Jeff standing in front of the fireplace.  “Jeff… what happened?”  

As she'd hoped, he begins his villain monologue.  “Chemistry, Kent.  Some plants don’t absorb light, they refract it.  I found a weird green rose on the grounds and I studied it.  And then, I used the oils to become what I’ve always been… to Lex, the people at school, everyone.”    

He takes a mace off the wall and swings it at Clara, who quickly ducks.  While she knows it won’t hurt her, she has no intention of revealing her powers to yet another crazy meteor mutant.  When his repeated attempts to hit Clara with the mace fails, leaving behind smashed display cases and dented suits of armor before it eventually gets embedded on the wall, having ripped through a tapestry, he leaves it where it is and quietly walks around until he’s behind Clara.   

“You know, I’ve heard Luthor talk about you like you’re something special.  Well, I’m special too.”  

Before Jeff can grab her from behind, Clara whirls around and kicks him with enough force that he’s sent flying across the room towards the scaffolding.  As he falls against it, the scaffolding breaks underneath him, and the paint cans that had been on it go flying, decorating in various colors not just the few undoubtedly priceless antiques that had still been intact, but Jeff’s unconscious body as well, partially making him visible again. 

Clara runs over to Lex to check on him.  Although she winces at the bruises forming on his cheek, the impressive lump on his head, and the cut on his lip that has thankfully stopped bleeding, she’s relieved to find him breathing regularly and actually looking like he might regain consciousness soon.  She heads off to call 911, then takes advantage of the time available to zip through the gardens of the mansion to see if she can find the roses Jeff had been talking about.  While being near the roses definitely make her ill, she doesn’t need to be near them to destroy them.  A quick burst of her heat vision and the mutated roses go up in flames.  

*** 

Once the now visible Jeff is strapped down onto a gurney and wheeled into the ambulance, Clara checks on Lex, who’s being examined by the EMTs.  

“What do you think’s gonna happen to Jeff?”  

“A lot of serious therapy.  Better question is how he made himself invisible.”  

“I don’t know,” she lies.  “I guess the secret’s gonna stay with him.”    

Seeing him rub his neck, she asks worriedly, “How’s your head?” 

“I’ve survived worse.  Can’t say the same about my father’s antique collection.”  

“Sorry.”  

He smiles.  “Don’t be.  My mother always hated them.  She used to say, "War is in our nature.  We don’t need to put it on display."” 

“She sounds like a wise woman.  I would’ve loved to have met her.” 

Lex stares at her.  “I think she would’ve liked you.”  

Clara blushes and looks away. 

“Come on, you should get home.  And I need to call Victoria and tell her the situation has been resolved.”  

Swallowing roughly, she nods and heads for home.  

***  

The next day at school, the gossip about the Palmers fly fast and furiously.  Neither of the kids had been popular, which gives the students freedom to enjoy mocking them and their misfortunes.  Amy’s crush on Lex Luthor isn’t news – Troy had apparently caught her writing romantic odes to him and had spread that tale, which explains why he’d been attacked by an invisible Jeff – but the fact that it had been her brother who had gone to such lengths for her has more than a few students crudely remarking that he must be in love with his own sister.   

Clara, eager to get away from such talk, is hurrying towards the Torch office when she nearly bowls over Whitney.  

“Oh, hey Whitney,” she greets, before lowering her voice.  “How’s your dad?” 

“He’s still in the hospital.”    

She can’t help but notice how tired he seems.  

“Listen, Lana told me you advised her to give me another chance and to be patient with me, so thank you for that.”  

“You told her?”  

He nods. 

“I’m glad,” she says, relieved she no longer has to fend off Lana’s attempts to wheedle information out of her.  

He shrugs, and as he does, a paper slips out of the binder in his hands.  Clara can’t help but see the circled, red ‘F’ on it.  As she hands it back to him, his face flushes in both anger and embarrassment.  

“It’s just a bad test, Whitney-”  

“It’s not,” he says, breath whooshing out of him at the admission.  “I can’t get my homework done and I can’t train.  I might as well kiss my scholarship goodbye.”  

Whitney obviously hadn’t meant to confess it all to her, but it’s also clear that he needs to talk to somebody, and she at least knows the truth about his dad’s health.  Lana is probably the better option, but Clara knows Whitney isn’t the type to dump all of his problems onto his girlfriend, not only for fear of looking weak but because he’s unwilling to be a burden.    

“You know Lana will help if you tell her,” she advises.  

He shakes his head.  “Lana’s smart, but she’s still a freshman.  She won’t be able to help me and it’ll only make both of us more frustrated.”  

Clara concedes he has a point.  Still… “I may not be able to help you in your other classes, but I’m really good with math.  Like I know calculus good.”    

Whitney’s eyes widen with surprise.    

“So if you want, I can at least help you with your math homework after school.”  

He sighs before admitting flatly, “I can’t.  I gotta get over to the store – it’s stock day.”  

She knows what it’s like to have to put her chores before everything else.  “Well, what about tonight?”  

Whitney regretfully shakes his head.  “Thanks, but I’ve got to run the numbers over to my dad at the hospital.” 

Clara’s brows furrow.  “But isn’t he still sick?”  

He sighs again.  “He is, he’s just… he needs to feel like he’s still in control.”  

She purses her lips.  Now Whitney is just being an idiot.  “Look, I get you want to help your parents out and don’t want to be more of a burden, especially with your dad so sick, but I highly doubt either of your parents want you to fail your classes or lose your scholarship.  They’re your parents – they wouldn’t want their comfort to come at the expense of your future.  Talk to your mom.”  

Whitney clenches his jaw and looks away, but she can see him wavering.    

“Your mom’s going to head to the hospital later today anyway, right?”  

When he nods, she suggests, “Why don’t you ask her to run the numbers over?  Come over to my house for dinner and we’ll go over your homework after.”   

For a moment Clara thinks he’s about to stubbornly decline, but she can see his weariness winning out in the end.    

Whitney looks at her gratefully.  “Thanks, Clara.”  

She shrugs awkwardly.  “What are friends for?” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven 

Clara being ahead in math is a bit of an understatement, seeing as she’d already gone well past high school material by the time she’d actually enrolled in school, way back in second grade.  Of course, since her parents hadn’t wanted her to stand out in any way, she’d stuck to acing everything but not going above and beyond, making it seem like she’s just dedicated to studying rather than already knowing all of the material.   

Thankfully for Whitney, Clara’s also not a novice at being a tutor, having had plenty of practice teaching and explaining math to Chloe and Pete.  When combined with a motivated student who is intent on not losing his scholarship to Kansas State University, it’s no surprise then that their study session quickly bears fruit.  After a delicious dinner – Whitney had near constantly praised Martha for her cooking skills, to the latter’s delight – for the first time, Whitney feels relief as he finally begins to understand the material he’s been struggling with for weeks. 

Unfortunately, he’s so behind that there are simply not enough hours remaining in the day for him to get all caught up with his calculus homework and assignments.  They’ve only just finished going over the material for another one of his missed or late assignments when both of Clara’s parents discreetly start yawning, though neither of them says anything to hurry him along.   

It’s only when Clara’s parents finally head upstairs for bed that Whitney at last checks the time.  Knowing he really should be heading home himself if he doesn’t want to be useless in his classes, he finishes the last of the problems in the section before starting to pack up his things.   

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

Clara only shrugs modestly.  “Here,” she says, and hands him containers laden with leftovers that her mother had packed up earlier. 

It’s been so long since he’d experienced such kindness and a lovingly home cooked meal that Whitney actually feels like crying. 

“Thank you,” he just about manages to say as sincerely as he can, before leaving the house to get in his truck and drive home. 

*** 

Despite not sleeping as long as she is used to, Clara feels as awake and alert as ever when she gets up that morning.  She wonders if it’s another freaky aspect of her alien body or if it’s because she’s happy to have done something good and helped a friend, all without there being any meteor rock involvement.   

As she pours herself a bowl of cereal, Jonathan gives her back a warm pat.  “It was a good thing you did yesterday.” 

“I’m just glad I could help.” 

“Well, tell Whitney he’s welcome to come over for dinner any time.  His poor parents deserve all the breaks they can get,” Martha says as she pours coffee into Jonathan’s travel mug.   

She nods.  “I will.” 

Clara’s barely entered through the school entrance when Whitney appears next to her. 

“Hey Whitney!” 

“Hey!”   

He looks around at the crowded hallway full of noisy students before pulling her into the first still-empty classroom he sees.  

“So I’ve spoken to my calculus teacher and told him everything that’s been happening with my dad.  Taking my circumstances into consideration, he’s agreed to extend the deadline for my late assignments and will even allow me to sit for make-up tests.”   

“That’s great, Whitney!” 

His smile is wide with relief.  “And it’s all thanks to you. I’m going to do that with all my teachers and speak to my coach and finally get my life in order.  Listen…” 

Seeing his hesitation, Clara squeezes his arm comfortingly.  “Come over to my house whenever you can and we’ll go over the material until you’re all caught up.  And my mom ordered me to tell you that she expects you to stay for dinner when you do.” 

His eyes are bright as they look at her, something like gratitude and wonder appearing in them.  “Thanks Clara, and thank your mom for me too. You really are amazing.” 

Clara flushes with pleasure.  She just about manages to get out, “What are friends for?” 

*** 

Given the ordeal Victoria has gone through at the mansion, when she proposes that they go away on a trip for a much-needed vacation, Lex agrees.  A part of him is even looking forward to it, since the number of times he’s been attacked in Smallville is far too many for his comfort. So he isn’t best pleased when one of his newly hired security staff informs him that Roger Nixon is here to see him when he’s just been about to head to Metropolis to pick Victoria up from her hotel. 

“Send him up,” he says, swallowing down a sigh.   

When Nixon enters his office, Lex doesn’t beat around the bush.  “You have something for me?” 

Nixon hands over a large manila envelope.  Seeing that it contains photographs, Lex pulls them out.   

He isn’t expecting to see images of Lionel and Victoria in bed together. 

It’s a nasty surprise, though more because it sours his vacation plans than because of the betrayal.  After all, it’s certainly not the first time a lover of his has slept with his father or betrayed him.  Or both, quite frankly. 

However, it does gall that theirs is supposed to have been a mutually beneficial arrangement, except he’d been the only one who’d apparently been genuine in that sentiment.  Lex supposes it’s a good thing he’d planned for Victoria’s betrayal before even entering into their arrangement – and it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.   

He quips, “Nice picture quality.  Who initiated this little encounter?” 

“Well, who do you think?” 

Lex guesses, “Victoria?”  She would want to keep an eye on Lionel, to make sure Hardwick Enterprises isn’t about to miss out on acquiring Cadmus Labs.  But by the same token, Lionel would want to keep an eye on Victoria, in case Lex intends to double cross him after all. 

“Your father,” Nixon supplies, then leaves once he realizes Lex won't give him a reaction.        

Lex figures he should have expected that, though he doesn’t doubt Victoria had been an equally enthusiastic participant.  No doubt they would only insist they had been using each other as insurance should he confront them – not that he intends to do any such thing.  He knows very well that such information needs to be kept in reserve, either to have his enemies believe they can use it to score a point against him, or as material that may become useful to him in some way in the future.  

Still, this only reaffirms his decision to continue his latest side project – carefully siphoning money from LuthorCorp through an unauthorized access he’s created for himself for his own use.  He’s already gotten quite a bit of a slush fund, and he’d been considering stopping just to be safe, but in his estimation, the rewards now far outweigh any potential risks. 

As for his current major project…  Lex no longer has any interest in continuing to frequent Victoria’s bed, especially knowing where she’s been.  Therefore, he decides to speed up the timetable. He spends their vacation ostensibly “working” while also giving Victoria plenty of opportunities to access the false data he’d “gathered” on Cadmus Labs from his laptop, all the while making it obvious he’s about to make a move. 

And so it’s not surprising when Victoria asks to cut their vacation short for a meeting with Sir Harry.  Naturally, Lex is kept waiting for the Hardwicks with only a mediocre drink given to him by Victoria’s assistant to keep him company.  Not even the attractive view of the Metropolis skyline, his home, can make up for the delay or mute the garish décor that fills Victoria’s office.     

At last he hears the door open and Victoria and her father make their way over to him. 

“Lex!  You remember dad,” Victoria introduces with a wave of her hand. 

He noticeably pauses before pasting a small smile on his face as he walks towards them.  He extends his hand and briefly shakes Sir Harry’s.   

“Sir Harry, Victoria.  I’ve been waiting 45 minutes.” 

“Oh, we were closing a deal,” Sir Harry says smugly. 

Lex’s lips twitch.  “The City of Metropolis giving you the recycling contract?” 

Victoria’s trademark coy smile holds more than a tinge of satisfaction as she saunters closer to him.  “Lex, you seem upset.” 

He scoffs before turning around to walk towards the drinks table to pour himself a hopefully more palatable drink.  “If this is the level of respect you show your business partners, I’m beginning to wonder if I made the right decision.” 

“You see, Lex, it doesn’t really matter,” Sir Harry declares.  “The deal is off.” 

“I’m sorry, I thought it was your life’s ambition to crush my father.” 

“No, that’s your life’s ambition,” Sir Harry retorts, his smug smile radiating his triumph as he sits down in a nearby armchair.  “Mine is to take over LuthorCorp.” 

“How do you plan to do that without my shares?” Lex points out. 

“You heard of Cadmus Labs?” 

Lex makes himself freeze before slowly turning to pointedly stare at Victoria, who can’t hold his gaze.   

“I’ve been researching them for about a year,” he lies. 

“Well, your research has just paid off.”  Sir Harry's eyes revel in the damage he believes he’s about to inflict as he announces, “I bought them… an hour ago.” 

Lex looks down at his feet, feigning defeat.  “And with the profits you’ll reap from their patents, you’ll buy LuthorCorp outright.” 

“Tell your father I said hello,” Sir Harry says gloatingly, and buttoning up his suit jacket, he heads for the door.  Not even bothering to look at Victoria, he says dismissively, “Come on, girl.” 

Victoria’s face freezes unpleasantly for a beat before she turns back to Lex, who slowly walks up to her.  He looks into her eyes and sees that she feels not a shred of remorse for apparently having screwed him over.   

Lex refrains from letting out a smirk at how well everything has unfolded thus far.  “Congratulations. I hope it was worth it,” he says instead. 

He leaves, not bothering to glance back even once. 

*** 

As expected, Lana is quite understanding when Whitney finally tells her about his father’s illness, and rather touched too, since he’d done it because he’d just been trying to be considerate of her feelings.  Therefore, she not only forgives him immediately but wants to be there for him in any way she can.   

Unfortunately for Lana, Whitney is far too busy and no longer has the time to hang out with her during lunch let alone after school, too busy catching up academically while also trying to squeeze in time for training all the while still pitching in at his father’s store to spare any time for being Lana’s boyfriend.  The only time he can spare her are the few moments when their paths cross in the hallways between classes, which isn’t nearly long enough for much besides a quick kiss hello.   

Lana is naturally supportive and understanding about it all, but when the weeks pass without her getting to spend any meaningful time with him – they couldn’t even have dinner together for Valentine’s Day because he’d been with Clara, studying – she can’t help feeling frustrated.   

Since Clara is the only one who knows of the whole situation and is even helping Whitney with his homework, Lana finds herself venting – in her own way – her frustrations to her. 

“That sucks,” is all Clara can say, really.  Considering Whitney’s circumstances, it’s obvious why Lana can’t be his priority, yet she also sympathizes with Lana and the frustration she feels, not just being unable to spend time with her boyfriend but also the helplessness that comes with knowing she can’t do anything to make his life easier. 

“I mean, I understand,” Lana insists again.  “His dad’s still in the hospital so he has to work extra shifts at the store, and of course school and training are important.  I just wish I could help and maybe spend more than a few minutes with him a day.”  

“It’s tough running a family business,” Clara says sympathetically.  She wants to reassure Lana somehow, but she’s not sure what she can say beyond what she’s already tried that will be helpful. 

“I think he secretly wants his dad to sell it,” Lana confesses.  “He doesn’t want to be saddled with it when he graduates.” 

Clara has also gotten that impression.  “I don’t blame him. I don’t see myself being a farmer either after I finish college.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

She shrugs.  “I’m not sure.  Just as long as it doesn’t involve putting on heels and doing a lot of flying,” she jokes, before she gets an idea.  She says musingly, “Well, I think if you offered to help Whitney out at the store occasionally, that might be a tremendous help.” 

Lana stops in her tracks.  “I could, right? I mean, I’ve helped Nell at her shop before, I know how to work the cash register.” 

“I’m sure Whitney will appreciate the assistance.” 

Lana smiles brightly.  “Thanks, Clara.” 

“So what about you?  Do you envision staying in Smallville?” 

She hesitates.  “I’m not sure. I never thought so before, but with Nell selling the Talon…” 

Clara understands that.  She doesn’t want to be a farmer, but that doesn’t mean she can picture anyone else having the Kent Farm either. 

Lana shakes her head and then turns to her with a smile.  "Hey, so how are things at Mobile Meals?  Have you finished your community service hours there yet?"

*** 

Knowing he’ll soon be asked to return to Hardwick Enterprises to meet with Sir Harry and Victoria, Lex debates on staying in Metropolis so he doesn’t have to spend hours on the road.  It’s tempting, but he ultimately decides to return to Smallville since he doesn’t wish to give the game away too quickly and ruin the surprise. Still, despite expecting the call asking for a meeting, getting it so soon upon returning to Smallville is an annoyance.   

At least the expectation of the outcome of the meeting makes the long car ride back to the city much more enjoyable.  

“I got an urgent call you wanted to see me?” Lex says in greeting as he enters Victoria’s office.  He can’t help but smirk as he spies Victoria and Sir Harry sitting beside each other on a garish red couch, knowing exactly why he’s been asked to come by. 

Sir Harry asks flatly, “How’d you do it, Lex?” 

“Do what?” he asks, feigning ignorance. 

Sir Harry bites out, “Cadmus Labs.  It’s worthless.” 

Lex nods.  He says, not bothering to sound sympathetic, “I know,” before adding chidingly, “Maybe you should have done your homework before acquiring it so recklessly.”   

Seeing that Victoria looks outraged by that, he drops the piece de resistance.  

“Now you’ve left yourself open for a hostile takeover.” 

When Sir Harry whips his head towards Victoria, she shakes her head and says rather defensively, “I read the report!” 

“You mean that little piece of fiction you stole off my computer?” Lex says with a smirk. 

Sir Harry snaps, “This your idea of having it covered?” 

As he stands and makes to leave the office, trying his best to not look like he’s retreating with his tail between his legs, Lex says, “That’s what you get for trusting family.” 

When Sir Harry freezes, Lex announces, “My father and I will be making an offer on your company in the morning.  I’ll tell him you said hello.” 

Victoria rounds on Lex the moment the door slams shut behind Sir Harry.  “How could you do this to me, Lex?” 

He doesn’t even bother to look at her as he reminds her, “You did it to yourself, Victoria.  You thought you could make your bones with daddy by taking me down.” 

Victoria insists as she stalks towards him, “It was just business.” 

“You call sleeping with me business?”  He looks straight into her eyes. “I hate to think what that makes you.” 

The slap of her hand against his cheek rings loudly in the otherwise silent room.  When Lex doesn’t even flinch, she tells him, “We could have been great together.” 

Lex nearly rolls his eyes at her delusion.  “I plan on being great all by myself.”   

No longer willing to continue with the charade, he says facetiously, “You better check on your dad.  He didn’t look well.” 

With one last angry glare, Victoria storms out of her own office. 

Lex watches her go with a satisfied smirk on his face.  Once he's all alone, he walks over to the drinks table and pours himself the best of the swill available, before toasting the Metropolis skyline.  

*** 

Despite his desire to go out and celebrate, Lex finds his interest in his old lifestyle had waned while he’d been living in Smallville.  He doesn’t want to go clubbing when regrets over what had happened at Club Zero still lingers in his mind, and he certainly doesn’t wish to reconnect with any of his “friends” in the city, not when he doesn’t care to have their exploits plastered all over the gossip rags come morning.  So in the end, he restricts himself to purchasing a few luxury vehicles as a reward for a job well done before opting to return to Smallville. 

He’s lounging in his study in front of the fireplace when his father calls.  He puts the phone on speaker and pours himself another finger of scotch. 

“Hello, dad.  How’s business?” 

“Tomorrow’s Planet is announcing our takeover of Sir Harry’s company.” 

“Did I merit a mention?” 

“Third paragraph.” 

Lex’s lips twitch and he takes a long sip of his drink. 

“That’s what happens when you trust your family, Lex.  I’m proud of you.” 

At one time, Lex would have given anything to hear those words from his father.  Unfortunately for Lionel, those days have long since passed.  

“Thanks, dad,” he says, not bothering to sound sincere.  “That means a lot coming from you.” 

He hangs up the phone before draining his drink. 

***   

Clara’s barely entered the Torch office when Chloe waves her over to her desk.   

“I have news of your crush!” 

Clara really should be used to all the unexpected swerves from Chloe by now, but it still manages to throw her for a loop.  Once she figures out what the blonde is talking about, she huffs out a sigh. “For the last time, I am not crushing on Lex.” 

Chloe goes on as though she hasn’t even heard.  “LuthorCorp took over Hardwick Enterprises.” 

Clara almost shrugs before the familiar name catches her attention.  She peers over Chloe’s shoulder at the computer screen.  “Hardwick Enterprises?  As in Lex’s girlfriend Victoria Hardwick?” 

She nods.  “Uh huh. That’s gotta be making things tense at the Luthor Mansion.  Still, Lionel ruining Lex’s romantic prospects mean good things for you, no?” 

“Chloe,” she says warningly.   

“Stop telling me there’s nothing to it,” the blonde retorts.  “I’ve seen the one-of-a-kind watch you’re wearing.” 

“What, friends aren’t allowed to exchange gifts now?” 

“Not when they’re worth thousands if not tens of thousands of dollars.” 

Although Clara has known that it’s possible her watch costs more than she’d thought, she’s purposefully tried her best to not think about it since then she’ll never wear the thing.   

Ignoring the sudden urge to carefully put the watch away somewhere safe, she says, “He’s a billionaire, remember?  To him, this is like pennies to us.” 

Chloe nods, conceding the point.  “Fine. Still, their fight is bound to be epic.  Oh, to be a fly on that wall.” 

Clara rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, when you go over to see him later, ask him if he’s willing to grant me an interview, alright?  Maybe he’ll say yes if the request comes from you.” 

Clara pointedly ignores the insinuation, even as she can’t help but be pleased at the thought. 

*** 

Ever since Mrs. Palmer has returned to Metropolis, the Luthor Mansion has been cycling through different housekeepers.  The latest is Mrs. Kirk, another transplant from Metropolis, who isn’t nearly as friendly as Mrs. Palmer.  Of course, the fact that Mrs. Kirk doesn’t have delusional and homicidal children more than makes up for the lack of friendliness. 

Even if she continues to give Clara the stink eye whenever she drops by the mansion. 

To Clara’s surprise, Lex isn’t in his study.  Still, the fact that Mrs. Kirk hadn’t prevented her from going upstairs must mean he’s around, and so she decides to wait.   

It’s when she’s leaning back and aimlessly looking around that she notices her charcoal drawing is missing.  Lex had it framed and it’d been moving all around his study until he’d finally hung it on the mezzanine near the balcony.  Except it isn’t there any longer.   

As she looks around to see where he’s moved it to, Lex says from behind her, “I moved your drawing.  I decided it’s a little too personal to be displayed for all to see, so as much as I’d like to hang it in my office, it’s now hanging in my bedroom.”  

“Oh,” is all she can say as she flushes to the roots of her hair. 

Lex thankfully refrains from commenting and just leans back against his desk.  “So what brings you by so early?” 

Clara clears her throat.  “I saw the Daily Planet and… I wanted to check and see that you’re doing okay.” 

His lips quirk into a sardonic smile.  “Victoria is no longer living here at the mansion.  I’m afraid our arrangement came to an end.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, and she means it too.  She may not have liked Victoria, but that doesn’t mean she’d wanted them to break up.  “Are you okay?” 

Lex raises his eyebrow.  “Considering she betrayed me and then slept with my father, I’m doing remarkably well.” 

Clara can’t help the look of disgust that crosses her face at that.  “Eww, really?” 

He bursts out laughing.  “Never change, Clara,” he says as he stands back up.  “Do you have time for a movie?” 

At her nod, he heads for the entertainment room.   

“I’m really sorry she betrayed you, Lex,” Clara says before the movie starts.  “You deserve someone far better.” 

“You’re probably the only one who thinks so,” he says with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” she insists.  She turns on the couch until she’s facing him.  “Everyone deserves to have someone in their life who loves them and won’t betray them, and you most of all.” 

Seeing the genuine concern and care shining from Clara’s eyes, Lex gently squeezes her hand in gratitude. 

Clara smiles and he echoes it before they both turn back towards the large screen. 

*** 

Although the freshman class of Smallville High’s geology field trip had long been on the class schedule, considering that the last such field trip had resulted in them being taken hostage by a crazed gunman, the parents vehemently protest against it.  Only Mr. Summers’ insistence that the hands-on experience is absolutely necessary for his class gets Principal Kwan to try and negotiate with the parents on the matter.  When Principal Kwan suggests increasing the number of teachers who’ll be going on the field trip as well as even inviting some of the parents to accompany the class if they wish, he successfully manages to placate most of the parents.  Mr. Summers, however, protests, claiming the parents will either get in the way of his lesson plans or help their children cheat.  In the end, once the parents agree not to supervise their own children, Mr. Summers is forced to acquiesce, and the field trip is finally going ahead as scheduled.   

The news that the students will be accompanied by two gym teachers and ten parents – including Chloe’s dad – is met with relief by a few of the students who had been fearful that a repeat of their last such outing may occur.  Most greet the announcement with groans, however, as a field trip out in the woods would normally have meant a day free to do what they liked, but now, thanks to the close monitoring by their parents, they won’t get to have any fun. 

They at least manage to console themselves over the fact that the field trip will still mean they’ll be able to skip their other classes for the day. 

Clara doesn’t particularly care either way, and so naturally Chloe is chastising her for her indifference.   

“Really, Clara, you have no idea how bad this is going to be for me!” the blonde groans.   

When Clara just patronizingly pats her on the head and says, “There, there,” Chloe scowls at her. 

“Fine, be that way!  You can find yourself another partner!” 

Snickering at Chloe’s dramatics, Clara just heads for home and her chores.  

*** 

The surest sign that spring has arrived in Smallville is a storm.  Although the day of the geology class field trip isn’t exactly clear, the weather forecast suggests the storm won’t be hitting them until later on that evening, and so they decide to go on ahead.  Once all the freshman students and the ten accompanying parents arrive at school, they – along with the three teachers – crowd onto the yellow school bus and various cars, and drive to the woods near the dam and Morley Reservoir. 

On the way, Mr. Summers hands out a bag to each student, which contains within a list of rocks they are to find and a hammer so they can collect the samples.  Chloe, true to her word, has decided to pair up with Pete, and so Clara and Lana decide to partner up together.  Of course the list includes meteor rock, making Clara inwardly groan in dread upon seeing it.  She decides to leave that one for Lana to find and collect. 

The bigger problem, however, will occur at the end of the field trip when she’ll be riding back to school surrounded by all those meteor rock samples the students will have collected.  Clara has no idea how she’s going to do so without giving anything away.  She can only hope that the rock samples they’ll be collecting will be put into trunks of cars that their chaperones are driving in instead, sparing her the agony and need to come up with an excuse as to why she can’t ride back on the school bus.  Perhaps she can feign an illness?  If she’s around all those meteor rock samples, she won’t even have to fake being sick, and then maybe she’ll be able to get one of the chaperones to take her directly home instead.  They’re more likely to take her to the hospital in that case, but even that’ll be better than being forced to writhe in excruciating pain on the school bus.  

Breathing out a silent sigh of relief at having worked out a tentative plan, Clara forces herself to relax.

Despite there being enough chaperones for the students to readily split up into smaller groups, all the adults insist they more or less stick together.  Their hyper vigilance only serves to alarm and worry the students, and so it’s a quiet group that sets out to collect the required geological samples.  As promised, the parents arrange themselves in such a way that they’re not supervising their own children, which seems to make the students – including Chloe – breathe a sigh of relief.  

Clara and Lana are ostensibly under the direct supervision of Mr. Summers, though because he’s also overseeing the entire class, they’re left alone.  Any protests the other teachers or parents would have normally made is silenced since it’s Lana, the least problematic student of them all, and so beyond an intermittent check-in by the other parents to see how they’re doing, they’re free to walk around in search of the requisite geological samples by themselves.  And thanks to Clara’s telescopic and x-ray visions, she and Lana make short work of tackling the list.   

“Got it!” Lana says as she grabs the granite Clara has pointed out.  “That just leaves rose quartz and meteor rock.” 

“Why don’t you look for a meteor rock and I’ll find a rose quartz?” 

“Sounds good to me,” she agrees. 

Clara looks around with her x-ray vision, and quickly locates a rose quartz buried in the ground.  After making sure no one is watching, she reaches through all the dirt and pulls it out, before splitting it open with her bare hands.   

“Got the rose quartz,” she informs Lana, happily displaying the stone in question. 

Lana shakes her head in incredulity.  “You really are a regular rockhound, Clara.” 

Clara shrugs.  Just then, Pete and Chloe slide down a small hill towards them, with Coach Barbara slowly trailing behind. 

“When is this whole geological scavenger hunt going to be over?” the blonde gripes as she pulls her hat further down over her ears. 

“Not having much luck?” Lana asks sympathetically. 

Pete rolls his eyes at Chloe.  “ Someone is doing a little more ranting than digging.” 

“I’m sorry,” the blonde interjects, “but I find geology even more pointless than algebra.  I mean, I could just order these rocks online and have them delivered to my house, vacuum-sealed.” 

Mr. Sullivan, who is within hearing distance monitoring several students, including Eric Summers, Mr. Summers’ son, pointedly clears his throat and shoots her an admonishing look.  Chloe winces and stares determinedly back down at the list. 

Feeling sorry for Pete, Clara hands over the other half of a rose quartz she’s holding and says, “I can help you look.  Lana and I are nearly done with ours.” 

Lana readily agrees.  “Yeah, Clara’s amazing.  We just need a meteor rock and I can get that easily since I doubt that’ll be all that hard to find.” 

“Thanks Clara, Lana,” Pete says with relief as he tucks the stone into his bag. 

“Chloe,” Mr. Sullivan says firmly, and the blonde sighs but readily follows. 

“Okay, people,” Mr. Summers announces via the bullhorn, getting everyone’s attention.  “You've got 15 minutes. The storm is moving faster than expected and I want to be back at the school before it hits.” 

“How many more rocks do you have to find?” Clara asks. 

“Pretty much all of it,” Pete admits.   

As they’re walking along, a wave of nausea and weakness comes over Clara.  She barely holds back a groan even as Pete says happily, “Oh, there’s a meteor rock!” 

Eric, who had been about to offer Holly a piece of the meteor rock he’d found, looks up at Pete and smiles.  “Yeah, do you want a piece of it?” 

“Thanks, man!” 

Making it look like she’s off to search for other rocks, Clara hurriedly moves away from the duo.  “Hey Chloe, do you have your list?”  

By the time Mr. Summers orders everyone to get back to the bus, Clara and Lana are the only students who have managed to complete the assignment.  As they all start lining up to board the school bus, Clara makes sure she stays at the very back, trying to get as much distance between herself and all the meteor rocks that have been collected as she possibly can. 

Mr. Summers announces, “Anyone who hasn’t completed this assignment will be writing an essay on all the rocks they haven’t managed to find.”  Ignoring the loud groans, he continues.  “And you’ll submit your rock collection bags to me before you board the bus, so I know just who will be writing what.”  

Lana, who’s standing near the front, shoots Clara a thumbs up as she hands over their bags to Mr. Summers, who writes their names on a masking tape and sticks it to the bags, which he then hands over to Coach Quigley.   

When Chloe turns to her to complain over the “injustice” of it all, Clara just shrugs.  “You could’ve actually done the assignment instead, you know.” 

“You suck,” is all the blonde has to say to that, and she storms off to line up to board the bus. 

To Clara’s relief, Mr. Summers ends up riding with Coach Quigley in his truck with all the rock samples, sparing her the agony.  Lana, who has saved a seat for her, gives her a high five when Clara sits down next to her. 

“Thank god you’re such a rockhound.” 

*** 

Thanks to the storm that had raged all night, when Clara gets up in the morning, the grounds around the farm are completely muddy.  She puts on her brand new rubber boots, which she’d bought on sale, finally glad to have an opportunity to wear them.  It had cost her what remained of the money she hadn’t deposited into her bank account, but as she checks herself out in the mirror, she knows it’s well worth it.  

After a quick breakfast and with a wave to her mother, she hurries out of the house, intent on actually catching the school bus on time for once.  She’s making her way down the lane when she hears the squeal of tires.  When she looks over, she sees the family truck stuck in the mud, the rear wheels spinning fruitlessly, only digging the truck further down into the mud.      

“Clara!” Jonathan calls out when he sees her, cutting the engine.  He hurriedly gets out of the truck.  “I could really use your help!  I loaded all the hay but the truck’s stuck up to its axle in the mud and-” 

“The cows aren’t gonna feed themselves,” she finishes with a cheeky grin.  “Don’t worry, I know.” 

Jonathan just chuckles good-naturedly.  “Yeah, yeah.  So can you give me a hand please?” 

In response, Clara gets her hand under the truck bed.  Once Jonathan starts the engine again and shifts the gear to neutral, she gently lifts the rear of the truck until the wheels are pulled away from all the mud, and then lightly pushes the truck forward, moving it away from the worst of the mud and towards a more solid ground. 

“There.”  

Jonathan pats her on the back in thanks, and Clara hurries towards the bus stop so she won’t miss the school bus. 

*** 

As though to make the freshman students suffer for having the temerity to miss his class thanks to the geology field trip, Mr. Austin’s English class that day is particularly excruciatingly boring.  Clara breathes out a silent sigh of relief when the bell rings and they’re finally allowed to escape. 

“There’s nothing like 50 minutes of Mr. Austin’s class to work up an appetite,” she remarks as they join the throngs of students in the hallway, heading for their lockers and the exit. 

Pete shakes his head and sourly notes, “There’s nothing like having a 6-page student biography assignment due Monday to help me lose mine.” 

Chloe smirks at him.  “What, the biography part or the fact that our fellow student subjects were “randomly” assigned?” 

“Except Pete’s convinced that the drawing was fixed,” Clara teases. 

He holds up a small white piece of paper.  “There are a dozen ladies in our class, each worthy of lengthy interrogation.  Yet somehow I get stuck with Stan Gibson?” 

Clara skips over his remark about the ladies like it’s a landmine about to go off.  She instead says, “The manager of the student store?  Well, I hear he’s very…” 

“Efficient?” Chloe adds with a smile. 

“Very funny,” he says dryly.  “I’m about to learn more about the art of selling Go Crow pendants than any human should have to endure.”  

He huffs at their lack of sympathy before eyeing Chloe.  “So who’s your victim?” 

“The illustrious Miss Kent herself.” 

“Ohhhh!” Pete crows, before snorting. 

“Me?” Clara says, taken aback. 

“I take it back.  Chloe’s the one with the challenge.” 

Clara narrows her eyes.  “Excuse me?” 

“No offense Clara, but digging up 6 pages of interesting stuff on you is going to require some serious excavation,” he points out. 

“I do stuff,” she protests, sounding rather petulant even to her own ears. 

Chloe raises her eyebrow.  “Yes, and I’m sure once I deploy my journalistic skills on you, I’ll be able to unearth a skeleton or two.” 

Clara suddenly has a bad feeling about this.  “You know, uh, Chloe, this is a class project, not a corruption scandal.” 

“Relax Clara, it’s not like you have anything to hide,” the blonde notes dismissively.  “So who did you get?” 

Clara pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and holds it out. 

“Lana Lang?” Pete says, snatching it from her hand as though to check that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him.  “Now how’s this fair?  You each get a friend and I’m stuck with Stan Gibson?  Like I said, definitely rigged.”  

“It’ll be fine, Pete,” Clara says reassuringly.  “Now I gotta go, I have some errands to run for my parents-” 

“Hang on,” Chloe says, stopping her before she can take off.  “When are you going to sit down to do my interview?”  

“Right.  Umm, I’ll be around.”  Shooting them an overly bright smile, Clara heads straight for the doors. 

Chloe turns to Pete.  “Did she just blow me off?” 

Pete just shrugs.   

***  

Clara really does have errands to run for her parents, not to mention her own list of chores to complete.  Still, she knows Chloe and knows that delaying the inevitable will only make things worse for her.  And so, in an attempt to get the whole interview thing over with, she agrees to stop by the Torch office before the classes start the next day so the blonde can ask her questions.  Clara delays for as long as she can in an effort to keep the number of questions to a reasonable amount, and as she reluctantly enters the Torch office and pulls up a chair and sits down across from Chloe, she tells herself that it’s not going to be as bad as she thinks it’ll be. 

She should’ve known better.  

Unfortunately for Clara, Chloe is relentless, and it’s actually much, much worse than even her worst fears.  The questions are both wildly varying and broad and oddly specific, which wouldn’t normally be so bad, except they’re focused on the types of subjects that interest Chloe, such as the drama between her parents and her grandfather, which is obviously something that Clara isn’t keen on discussing.  

After once more reminding Chloe that those topics are outside the scope of the assignment, she instead changes the subject to things she’s happy to elaborate on, like reconnecting with her grandfather and how she’s looking forward to finally spending some quality time with him during the coming summer break.  But of course Chloe quickly breezes past that, not at all interested in anything that doesn’t pass her "something amazing" test.

As the interrogation continues, Clara can’t shake the image she suddenly gets of Chloe hounding after her, of being put under a microscope if the blonde ever discovers the truth about Clara being an alien.  

Feeling a desperate need to get out of the Torch office and away from the Wall of Weird, Clara opens her mouth to make her excuses and leave when the bell thankfully rings, signaling the beginning of classes and giving Clara a convenient reason to escape the blonde’s clutches.   

Now all she has to do is evade Chloe and her questions for the rest of the day.   

Clara inwardly groans. 

*** 

In an attempt to avoid Chloe, Clara talks Lana into doing her interview at the Beanery after school.  She doesn’t have that many questions since she already knows a fair bit about Lana, so they mostly just hang out at the coffee shop, spending an enjoyable afternoon together.  They only leave the Beanery because Clara has her chores to do and Lana had promised her aunt that she’d return home early. 

Now far more relaxed and happier than she’d been for much of the day, Clara brightly calls out as she enters the kitchen, “Hello, anybody home?”  

“Hey!  Pull up a microphone, sweetheart,” Jonathan says, sounding rather nervous. 

Clara’s eyes widen as she sees her parents sitting on one side of the dining table with Chloe facing them on the other side, an actual microphone placed in front of them.   

“Hi Chloe, what’s going on?” she warily asks. 

“Since I barely got any answers to my questions this morning and you were nowhere to be seen after school, I decided to start my biographical inquiry at the beginning.”  The blonde shoots her a pointed look.  “And unlike a certain so-called best friend of mine, your parents graciously agreed to be interviewed.” 

The painfully cheerful expressions on her parents’ faces give lie to that statement. 

“Chloe’s been asking us some very… interesting questions, Clara,” Martha says. 

“Thank you!” she chirpily says, not realizing Martha hadn't meant it as a compliment.  “Um, now we just have a few more to go… We were talking about the early days.  So what was involved with adopting Clara?” 

As Clara somewhat uneasily watches from behind Chloe, Jonathan answers after exchanging rather panicked looks with Martha, “Uh, well, it was, uh, it was just like any normal adoption, I guess.” 

Chloe tilts her head.  “Okay, well, can you take me through the process?  Did it take weeks or months?  Did you guys use a lawyer or did you use an agen-” A click is heard and Chloe huffs.  “Shoot. I’m out of tape.” 

Martha breathes out a silent sigh of relief as Chloe takes the tape out.   

“That’s okay, I’ve got some extra C90’s in my car.  I’ll be right back.” 

Martha barely waits for Chloe to leave before she’s turning to Clara.  “Chloe’s researching your life for a school project?” 

“And when did that happen?” Jonathan asks. 

Clara says rather defensively, “We only just got the assignment.  I didn’t know she was going to go all Mike Wallace on me.” 

“Look, sweetheart, we don’t mind talking about you, but if she starts asking questions about the adoption… um.”  Jonathan stops awkwardly, clearly not sure how to continue. 

Clara’s brows furrow.  “What about the adoption?  Is there something I should know?” 

Jonathan and Martha exchange another loaded look before he shrugs, clearly attempting to be nonchalant and failing rather miserably.   

“Well, of course we had to make up a story, but it’s a little more complicated than that.” 

The door opens as Martha says, “Let’s just say it’s a subject we’d rather not have anybody explore.” 

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Chloe says cheerfully, thankfully not having heard. 

As Martha and Jonathan shake their heads in unison and the painfully cheerful expressions once again appear on their faces, Chloe places the new tape into the recorder before rifling through the pages of her notebook. 

“Oh Clara, now that you’re finally spinning in my orbit I have a couple of pertinents for you too.” 

“Uh, actually, this is just a pit stop for me,” she lies.  “I still have my own interview to do with Lana.  And Whitney’s probably going to be coming over later.” 

Chloe’s eyes narrow.  “Oh.  You know Clara, not to strike a paranoid note, but are you avoiding me?” 

Clara tries her best to look reassuring.  “Tomorrow, I promise.” 

With that, she hurriedly backtracks, leaving her parents to Chloe’s mercy. 

The blonde huffs once Clara leaves, before turning to Martha and Jonathan.  “Okay, this isn’t an official question and I don’t want you guys to take it the wrong way, but… has your daughter always been this strange or am I just noticing this now?” 

The look they share has her shaking her head.  “Never mind, forget I asked.  So, shall we continue?”

*** 

“Come on, guys,” Chloe cajoles Pete and Lana as they walk down the school hallway the next day.  “I’m desperate.  The only information I could get from the Kents was the earth-shattering admission that Clara hates peas.” 

“Chloe, what do you want from us?” Pete asks.  “In a world full of designer water, Clara Kent is straight from the tap.” 

She sighs in annoyance.  “I know, but you’ve both known her longer than I have.” 

“You’re her best friend, Chloe,” Lana points out.  “I doubt we have anything more to offer than what you already know.” 

“All I need is a little anecdote, just a small piece of information from Clara’s deep, dark past.” 

“I don’t know about a deep, dark past but Clara was homeschooled originally,” Lana offers.  “She didn’t join us until the second grade.” 

“I already knew that and it really doesn’t fall under the something amazing test,” Chloe says dismissively.  “Lots of kids are homeschooled, especially if they don’t speak English and the school doesn’t have a dedicated ESL program.” 

Pete and Lana exchange a look before he admits, “Well the thing is, Clara wasn’t having language issues – at least, not by then.  So everyone thought it was a little weird that the Kents insisted she be homeschooled for so long.  They've always been a little reclusive, but that was a little too strange, even for them, and it made some waves back then.” 

Chloe’s eyes brighten.  “Thank you!  That’s more than I’ve uncovered in like the past two days.  Now please, continue.” 

“Continue what?” Clara asks as she appears next to them. 

“I always thought it was because the Kents hadn’t yet told Clara that she’d been adopted,” Lana says in an attempt to be helpful.  “It’s not exactly an easy conversation to have, especially when you’re too young to really understand what that means.  And the last person Clara needed to hear such an important and significant information from was some random kid in school.  So I figured the Kents homeschooled her until she was old enough to understand.”  

Chloe looks thoughtful at that.  “Clara, any comments?”

Clara tries to shrug as nonchalantly as she can, making sure it doesn’t look like she’s denying Lana’s conjectures at all.  She can’t exactly say she’d been homeschooled for so long because she had to get control over her strength and speed, and Lana’s assumption is far better than anything she could’ve come up with.

Lana leaves after giving them a quick wave when she sees Whitney.  Rather than watching the duo make googly-eyes at each other, the three of them continue to make their way down the hallway.

“Well, if you need any more ancient history, ask the source,” Pete says, gesturing at Clara.  “I’ve got an appointment at the student store.” 

“Have fun,” Chloe tells him as he splits.  

As the two of them enter the Torch office to continue the interview, Chloe says with a bright smile, “So the mystery that isn’t Clara Kent deepens.” 

Clara tries to look like she isn’t panicking.  “Mystery?” 

“Yeah!  Since you’ve continued to play obstructionist, I’ve had to find information through other means.” 

The blonde lifts a folder from her desk.  “For instance, I found out that your adoption was done through Metropolis United Charities.  But this is the strange part.  They were only in business for six months, and from what I can tell, yours was the only adoption they handled.” 

Clara shakes her head.  “I can’t believe you did this, Chloe.” 

Seeing the expression on her face, Chloe’s smile falters.  “You didn’t know? I just… assumed that your parents would’ve told you.  I mean… weren’t you interested?” 

“Why would I be?” she snaps.  “My biological parents were either dead or didn’t want me.  The point is you’re prying into my private life without even asking me!” 

“I was just trying to be thorough,” Chloe protests. 

“This is a class project!  It took me not even half an hour to get through my questions for Lana.  That’s it, that’s all I needed.  And you’re my best friend, you already know more than enough about me to do this assignment!  I’m not some damn mystery for you to solve!” 

“Clara, I just-” 

Clara ignores her as she storms off.   

***  

The last thing Clara wants to be reminded of is the biography assignment when she comes home.  Unfortunately, her parents have concerns – which, to be fair, is legitimate given her alien origins – and so Clara tries to swallow down the irritation she feels when Jonathan asks, “So how’s Chloe’s paper coming along?  And I assume she’s done with her interviews?” 

She does fail to restrain her sigh, however.   

“I’m not sure.” 

Martha says apologetically, “Honey, if she mentions anything to you about peas… I’m sorry, it’s the first thing that came to mind.” 

“And if she mentions anything to me about Metropolis United Charities?” 

Martha sighs as Jonathan resignedly says, “I used to think perseverance was an admirable quality.” 

Clara roughly runs a hand through her hair.  “Even after I learned the real truth I hadn’t thought twice about the adoption.  Dad, Chloe told me the agency you used was only open for six months and that I was the only kid adopted.” 

“Look, sweetheart, um… the process is a really tough one even if you go through the normal channels.  With you it was just a little more… complicated, that’s all.” 

“Is everything... legal?” she can’t help but ask. 

“Yeah, it’s legal.  It’s just… it required a higher level of access than your mother or I had.” 

She frowns.  “What does that mean?” 

“Let’s just say that it’s a very long road between what’s sitting in the storm cellar to what’s written on your birth certificate.” 

Before Clara can ask more questions, she hears footsteps on the porch stairs.  When she looks over, she sees Chloe about to knock on the screen door before poking her head into the kitchen once she sees she’s been spotted.   

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kent.  Hi Clara.” 

Smiling tightly, Clara gestures for Chloe to follow her to the loft.   

Chloe says carefully, “I was hoping to talk to you.” 

Clara sighs.  “That depends on if it’s on the record or not.” 

“Okay, I deserved that,” the blonde admits.  “Look, I- I didn’t mean to ambush you with the whole adoption agency thing.” 

Clara continues up the stairs to the loft.  “Hey, you saw a story and you went right for it.  That’s what journalists do.” 

“You’re right, you’re right, and I didn’t think about how it would hurt you.  And… you know, I- I…” Chloe sighs.  “As much as journalistic instinct rebels, I would much rather keep my best friend than have a subject.  So I’m dropping the whole thing.” 

Clara finally turns around.  Seeing that the blonde is completely sincere, she says softly, “Thank you.” 

Chloe smiles.  “Can I ask you a question?” 

At the pointed look from Clara, she chuckles.  “Totally off the record.  Do you ever wonder about your biological parents?” 

Clara solemnly nods.  “Every day of my life.” 

*** 

Just because Chloe is no longer looking into Clara’s adoption doesn’t mean Clara isn’t curious after what the blonde had revealed.  She tries to get her parents to divulge more about how they’d managed to adopt her, yet to her frustration, they remain mum.  She repeatedly tries from completely different angles, and even asks them directly about what they know of Metropolis United Charities.  Unfortunately, all her attempts to get them to reveal to her about what had happened back then nets her nothing.   

“That’s not important right now, honey,” Martha continues to say with a shake of her head. 

Jonathan agrees, and adds, “Sometimes, the past is better left buried.” 

That may very well be true, but the way they’re tiptoeing around her adoption is making Clara very curious as well as concerned.  She isn’t a computer whiz like Chloe, of course, but hang around her long enough and you pick up a skill or two.  And so, Clara surreptitiously uses a computer in the Torch office to find out more about Metropolis United Charities. 

What she finds is shocking, to say the least. 

Clara isn’t sure how she manages to pay enough attention in her classes to not get landed in detention, but somehow she does.  The moment the bell rings, she runs out of the school and zips home when she’s out of sight.   

“You’re home early, Clara,” Martha says when she storms into the kitchen. 

“Lionel Luthor was the one who founded Metropolis United Charities.  Why was he involved in my adoption?” 

A look of resignation appears on Jonathan’s face but neither of her parents say a word. 

“Will somebody tell me what is going on?” she nearly yells in frustration. 

“Jonathan, she needs to know,” Martha says quietly. 

He looks at his wife before sighing.   

“Alright,” he reluctantly acquiesces.  “It was the day of the meteor shower… when I realized that nothing was going to be normal around here again.  We’ve told you before, about how our truck was overturned because of the meteor shower, and how when we came to, you came up to us, naked as the day you were born?” 

At Clara’s nod, he continues.  “You led us to your ship, and... to say we were shocked is an understatement.  I knew we couldn’t just leave the ship there, and thankfully I managed to find Teddy’s truck that was still upright and running.  I somehow got the ship loaded onto the back of his truck and covered with a tarp.  We were on our way back to the farm when a man emerged from a field in front of us and waved us down, begging us for help.” 

Martha says, “He was fine but concerned about his son, although he couldn’t explain if he was even hurt because he was so clearly panicked and in shock.  Once your father finally managed to get him to point in the boy’s direction, he took off into the field and the man followed.” 

“When I found him, he was lying on the ground, curled up and unconscious.  He was bald, except for one little tuft of red hair on top of his head.  Thankfully he was still alive, but his pulse was slow.  I asked his father to give me a hand but the man was just uselessly standing there, too shocked and too concerned with his son’s loss of hair to be of any help.  The boy was wearing a fancy school uniform of some kind, but it clearly wasn’t doing much to keep him warm, so I covered him with my jacket and gathered him in my arms, and I hurried back to the truck to take him to the hospital.” 

Clara’s eyes widen as she realizes who the boy must be.   

“I had you in my lap, sweetheart, and the man sat next to me with his son in his arms.  The poor boy was floating in and out of consciousness.  But you were immediately captivated by him.”  Martha smiles a little in remembrance.  “You smiled at him and when he opened his eyes and looked at you, you reached over and touched his head before gently running your fingers down the side of his face.  He gave you a small smile and then passed out.” 

Clara doesn’t have long to enjoy the fact that she and Lex had had a connection even back then as children before Jonathan interrupts her musings. 

“We managed to get the man – Lionel Luthor, as I’m sure you’ve figured out – and Lex to the hospital.  Luthor told me that his son was in shock but that he’ll survive because of my quick actions.  And then he said that if there was ever anything he could do for me, to call him.  Then he gave me his business card.” 

Clara smiles.  “Dad, you were a hero.  I don’t know why you thought you had to keep that a secret from me.” 

When Jonathan just shakes his head and strides out of the kitchen, she worriedly turns to Martha.  “Mom?” 

“Recalling these memories… this is tough for him,” she explains, concernedly eyeing Jonathan through the window where she can see him leaning against the porch railing.  “He always said making a deal with the devil was going to come back to haunt us.” 

“Then why did he do it?” 

Martha bites her lip before eventually confessing, “Sweetheart, you had no idea the kind of pressure we were under.  We suddenly had this new little person in our home, and we didn’t know what to do with you.  We were completely overwhelmed.”   

She can’t help but recall the scene like it happened yesterday.  

“We brought you home, sweetheart, and I managed to find Jonathan’s old things for you from the attic that my packrat mother-in-law had kept.”  Her lips break into a smile as she says, “You were dressed in this blue long-sleeve tee that was big enough to be a dress on you, and when I put in front of you a few of Jonathan’s favorite toys from when he was a child, you immediately grabbed the toy airplane and began to play with it.  You seemed so captivated by it.”  

There is a shelf in her room where her old toys – that she hadn’t managed to completely break – and stuffed animals still reside.  “Wait, the toy plane in my room, is that the same one from back then?”

Martha nods.

“Wow.  It’s practically a family heirloom.”

She tucks an errant curl of hair behind Clara’s ear.  “The very morning of the meteor shower, Jonathan and I had gone to Nell’s shop to buy some flowers.  Lana was dressed adorably as a fairy princess, and was waving her magic wand around, asking people if they wanted to make a wish.  So I did.  I wished as hard as I could for a child, and when you found us… well, how could I not help but believe the universe was at last granting me my most desperate desire?   

“I was immediately taken with you, and I knew there was a reason why you had come into our lives and chosen us.  But where I was seeing the fulfilment of my wish and embracing you as my own, your father was reminding me of the practicalities involved, and that you may not be ours to keep.”   

Martha sighs before grasping Clara’s hands.  “Before we could figure out anything, Sheriff Ethan – who was then the Deputy – came to the house to check up on us, because he’d found our overturned truck on the road.  I carried you upstairs to hide you as your father answered the door, trying to get rid of him.  Unfortunately, you refused to stay still and were strong enough to escape from me, and Ethan saw you.  And we had to think quick.  So I told him that you were our daughter, that we’d adopted you and had only just brought you back from Metropolis that day.  Your father backed up my story to Ethan, who congratulated us.  He even said how nice it was that something good had happened in the middle of all the tragedy.  And he was right.” 

Clara’s brows furrow.  “So you just made it up, spur of the moment.” 

“I couldn’t say we found you in a cornfield,” she points out.  “Once the words came out, I- I knew we’d have to back them up eventually, so... we called Lionel Luthor and cashed in that favor.  He arranged everything.” 

Clara knows there’s more to this story than that.  “If everything worked out, why’d you keep it a secret?  Why hate the man who helped us?” 

Martha’s eyes dart outside again.  When Clara looks over, it’s clear from Jonathan’s posture that he’s heard her question.  She stands and joins him out on the porch, and Martha follows, leaning beside him and squeezing his hand.  He shakes his head at first, but eventually her encouraging expression has him opening his mouth. 

“The morning he came by with the adoption papers, I… I was quite surprised.  I thought I’d never lay eyes on him again, that he’d send a lackey with the papers instead of venturing into a farmer’s dusty barn and risk ruining his expensive shoes.  But he surprised me.  He was friendly, and even told me to call him Lionel.  He let me know that Lex was well enough to be taken back to Metropolis, then handed me the papers from his briefcase.  I was so happy when I got those adoption papers, knowing that you were now ours and were safe.  I smiled and thanked him.” 

Jonathan shakes his head then his head tilts down, as though he can no longer bear its weight.  

“But once I had those papers in my hand, rather than leaving, he told me he’d like me to do one thing for him.  See, it turned out that the Ross brothers were having second thoughts about selling their factory to an outsider like him, and since they were my friends, he wanted me to convince them that he only had Smallville’s best interests at heart.  He told me that my telling them that would make a difference.  But I wasn’t comfortable doing that, especially when it meant I would have to lie to my friends.  But while I certainly didn’t want to, considering what he’d done for me, for us, I couldn’t just tell him that.  So I told him I didn’t think it was any of my business.  He nodded his head and seemed like he was about to let it go.  But then he threatened me, told me to be careful with the paperwork unless I wanted to be found out by the Department of Family Welfare that your adoption was a sham.” 

Clara eyes her father’s pained face and says softly, “So you did it.  You convinced the Rosses to sell.” 

His face is filled with regret as he bites out, “I helped the Luthors get a foothold in this community.  The smokestacks, the toxic dumping, all the people who were cheated, including Pete’s family... None of that would’ve happened if it weren’t for me.” 

Clara shakes her head.  “Dad, you couldn’t have known,” she says sympathetically. 

“Nah, I should have known, Clara,” he angrily retorts.  “I knew exactly what kind of man Lionel Luthor was.” 

Clara’s voice is small.  Quiet.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew that you would do exactly what you’re doing right now, which is blame yourself.” 

“You were just trying to protect me,” she says sadly.  “It is my fault.” 

Jonathan shakes his head.  He says firmly, “No!  Never believe that!  This was my decision, this is my fault!  Mine alone.” 

And Clara can only look on helplessly as he leaves, his shoulders slumped with guilt. 

*** 

Chloe nervously taps her fingers in front of the computer she’s claimed as her own in the Torch office.  On the screen are the records for Metropolis United Charities, which she has saved onto a folder on the desktop.  She’s tried to do this repeatedly over the last few days, but each time her curiosity – and what she tells herself is her genuine desire to help – has overruled what she’d promised Clara.  Taking a deep breath, she once again closes all the tabs and drags the folder to the trashcan.  But rather than deleting it all permanently, she once more clicks to restore the folder.  Guiltily eyeing the door as though fearful of being found out, she renames the folder as ‘backup’ and tells herself that she isn’t betraying her best friend. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve 

In hopes of helping her father and lessening the guilt on his shoulders, Clara starts looking into what exactly Lionel Luthor has done to Smallville in the years since he’s acquired the creamed corn factory and turned it into a fertilizer plant.  She isn’t sure what she’ll be able to find in the public records because surely a man such as Lionel Luthor, who can blackmail and threaten her father, someone who he’d acknowledged as having been instrumental in saving his son’s life, no doubt has no compunctions of also bribing and blackmailing government officials to cover up for his misdeeds.  Still, it isn’t as though she has a whole lot of options. She’s no hacker, and even if she learns how, she wouldn’t know where to go looking in order to find the information she’s searching for. She can always ask Chloe, of course, but she’ll want to know why Clara is interested in the topic, and she doesn't have a satisfactory answer that doesn’t involve her family’s complicated history with Lionel.  And the last thing she wants is for Chloe to find out that Lionel Luthor of all people had been involved in her adoption.

Since the online archives of the Daily Planet and other state and national papers do not go that far back and she has no way of gaining access to their physical archives while in Smallville, Clara is forced to rely on the Smallville Ledger as her only source of information.  Fortunately, not only does their office in town have every one of their issues saved – which Clara can easily gain access to in guise of working on a history project – as the single biggest employer in town, the LuthorCorp plant is well covered by the paper.  

After looking through all the relevant back issues of the Ledger, Clara eventually discovers that while much of what her father has said is true – Lionel Luthor has been accused of cheating people and there are indeed plenty of allegations regarding environmental violations by LuthorCorp – none have really panned out.  Lionel has successfully claimed that his company strictly follows the standards set by the Environmental Protection Agency, which has only further disgruntled the denizens of Smallville who feel otherwise. Clara knows it’s certainly possible Lionel may have bribed the EPA officials to look the other way, but given everything she’s seen thus far, she also can’t rule out the possibility that those effects may have actually been due to the meteor rocks rather than the toxic dumping from the LuthorCorp plant.  Given the weird and varied ways the meteor rocks can affect living organisms, it may very well be that LuthorCorp is getting unfairly blamed for the strange woes of Smallville.   

As for the claims of having been cheated by Lionel, the only thing Clara has uncovered is the townspeople’s own negligence since they really should have carefully read their contracts before signing them.  Lionel may have verbally made them promises, but since none of that had been written into the contracts they’d signed or otherwise been recorded in some way, he had been under no legal obligations to uphold them nor could it be proven he’d made those deals in the first place.  It’s certainly a rotten thing to do, especially since Lionel has undoubtedly purposefully done so as to be able to cheat them, but their naïveté isn’t her father's fault. And really, it’s not as though her father had gone around convincing every one of the people who’d opted to get into business with Lionel Luthor to listen to the man.  Indeed, if anyone is responsible for furthering Lionel’s reach into Smallville, it’s Nell Potter, who still maintains a cordial relationship with him to this day. 

Also, while it is possible that her father had been instrumental in convincing the Rosses to sell their factory to Lionel, for them to have been entertaining his offer in the first place, the deal must have been worth it to them monetarily.  Clara doesn’t know if Ross Creamed Corn had been experiencing financial difficulties and that’s why the Ross brothers had agreed to meet with the then Pesticide King of Metropolis, but regardless, the money Lionel had offered them must’ve clearly been attractive enough for at least a meeting, and in the end, the Rosses had definitely gotten quite the windfall.  Certainly the end result may not have been what the brothers had wanted – they’d believed Lionel would expand the business, not convert the creamed corn factory into a fertilizer plant – but it isn’t as though her father had put a gun to their heads, forcing them to take the deal. If the Rosses hadn’t wanted to sell their factory, no amount of his attempts at persuasion would have moved them.   

Clara isn’t sure how much of that her father takes in when she presents everything she’s found to her parents, but his shoulders certainly seem more relaxed when she finishes, which is good enough for her.  It also doesn’t hurt that she’s rewarded afterwards with a fervent “Thank you” and a tight hug from her mother, along with many of her favorites for dinner the next night, including a baked Alaska, which she rarely makes because it’s so difficult and time consuming.

Clara savors every bite. 

***  

Although Clara can speed read and write, meaning completing her homework is quick if need be, she usually prefers to do it the normal way, to both avoid tearing the paper and because it feels like cheating otherwise.  Still, she’s had to resort to using super speed to get her own work done for weeks now as helping Whitney catch up is taking up the bulk of her afternoons and evenings. They’ve moved on from calculus to physics – since it involves a lot of math, making Whitney confident Clara can help him – and English, as Clara, who loves to read, has already tackled all of the books on Whitney’s class reading list.  Martha has even started to automatically set out another place for him at the dinner table, as he’s eaten with them more days than not. Indeed, the only time Whitney has left the Kent Farm early is when he goes to Metropolis to visit his father at the hospital.     

While Whitney hasn’t said much about it, Clara deduces Mrs. Fordman must be too exhausted taking care of both her husband and the store to do much grocery shopping, let alone cook.  Considering what Whitney has said about his own cooking skills – or lack thereof – it doesn’t really surprise her that he has dinners with them, even though he is clearly reluctant to keep doing so, no doubt worrying that he’s taking advantage of their generosity.  It doesn’t help the Fordmans’ feelings of being a burden when Martha repeatedly sends Whitney home with plenty of leftovers, enough for both Whitney and his mother to enjoy.  

In an effort to pay them back, Whitney insists the Kents shop at their department store, where he and his mother make sure they’re either given the items for free or at a hefty discount.  To their disappointment, however, Martha and Jonathan rarely visit as they don’t want to take advantage of the Fordmans, especially when they must be having financial difficulties of their own given Mr. Fordman’s continued hospitalization, leaving Whitney and his mother still feeling indebted to the Kents.  

Eventually, with hard work and diligence - and Clara's assistance - Whitney catches up with all of his classes, to his immense relief.  And early enough in the day that he'll even be able to join his mother to visit his father.    

After packing up his things, he clears his throat before pulling her in for a tight hug.  “Thank you,” he says again.      

“Whitney, you don’t have to keep thanking me,” she reminds him.  "I told you, it's what friends are for, remember?"

He smiles.  “Still, I owe you.”        

Before she can protests, Lana enters the barn.  

“Hey Lana!” Clara greets. 

Whitney gives Lana a quick kiss on the cheek before he heads for his truck.  Then, after shooting Clara one last grateful smile and a wave, he drives off.  

Seeing the troubled expression on Lana’s face, the smile that had been quirking Clara’s lips as she’d waved Whitney off falls.  “What’s wrong?”  

Lana says tentatively, “I know you’re busy with helping Whitney – and I really appreciate it too-”  

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help anyone else.  Is everything okay, Lana?”  

“The Talon has been sold.”  

“Oh,” is all Clara can think of to say in response.  She has a suspicion she knows who’s bought the property.    

“I asked Nell who the buyer is that she’s selling to, because I wanted to talk to them and maybe see if they’d be willing to restore the Talon.” 

“And?” 

“It’s Lex Luthor.”   

Clara nods, having known it couldn’t have been anyone else, especially since Lana has come to her for help.  “And you want me to talk to him?”   

It’s only the second time such a request has been made to her, but she’s beginning to resent it a little and also feel bad for Lex.   

To her surprise, Lana shakes her head.  “Actually, I’m going to. I was just hoping you’d come with me for moral support.” 

“Of course I will,” she readily agrees. 

Lana lets out a sigh of relief.  “Thanks, Clara. I made the call already and he’s meeting me tomorrow morning at 9 at the Talon.” 

“You’re really serious about this.” 

She nods.  “I know it’s a long shot but I’ve got to try.  I can’t let it go without a fight.” 

Clara watches her leave, worriedly chewing her bottom lip.  She knows Lex is sentimental, but he’s also pragmatic. He may have bought the property because Nell’s a family friend, but she doesn’t doubt he also has a plan for it, one that will undoubtedly bring him in a lot of money.  Lana’s appeal to him based on sentimental reasons won’t work against his pragmatism, that much Clara knows.   

So if she wants to help Lana keep the Talon somehow, that means the Talon can’t be a renovated movie theater as all that’ll do is lose money, and Lex’s current plans for that building still has to continue, though maybe to another site- 

Clara’s back straightens as an idea strikes her. 

“Mom!” she calls out as she sprints into the house. 

*** 

Clara had been excited by her idea, knowing it’ll help two of her friends and her own family as well.  And once she’d explained the whole thing to her mother, she’d been fully on board and had even helped her put everything together.  It isn’t until she sees Lana nervously pacing in front of the Talon the next morning that Clara realizes she’s seriously overstepped on matters that don’t really concern her.  Yes, Lana had asked her for her help, but Clara doubts this whole… takeover is what she’d meant by it. But once the idea had come to her, she hadn’t been able to ignore it.

She really should’ve called Lana and discussed this with her, Clara belatedly realizes, if not last night then certainly earlier this morning.  Especially since she really doesn’t want all of her and her mother’s hard work to go to waste. 

Taking in a deep, fortifying breath, Clara carefully greets her.

“Uh, Lana.  Hey.”

“Hey, Clara!  Thanks so much for coming!” Lana says, shooting her a relieved smile. 

“Yeah, of course.  Um, listen, I have to tell you something.  I, uh, I completely overstepped. I’m so sorry.” 

When Lana only looks at her in confusion, Clara confesses, “After you left yesterday, I kinda got an idea on how to save the Talon and then it, uh, it just snowballed into this whole… thing.  It definitely isn’t what you asked for-” 

Lana is clearly surprised, but she gives her a thankful smile, stopping the flow of words from Clara.   

“Hey, you didn’t overstep at all.  I’m grateful, really. You’re a great friend, Clara.”  She mulls it over. “Let me try my way first, and if it doesn’t work, then you can present your plan.” 

Clara debates on whether she should inform Lana that her plan is unlikely to work unless it involves something other than restoring the old movie theater to its glory days.  In the end, however, she acquiesces to Lana’s plan with a nod. She doesn’t think Lana will get defensive – it is Lana, after all – but she may become embarrassed or even hurt, which is definitely not something Clara wants to be the cause of.  Plus she also doesn’t want to seem like she’s taking over. Lana had been the one to call Lex, after all; she should get the opportunity to present her plan to him. Besides, maybe Clara’s wrong and Lana has some other creative idea that Lex will really like, or an argument that will actually succeed in convincing him, however unlikely Clara thinks that’ll be.   

Although Lana has stopped her nervous pacing, as they continue to wait for Lex, she starts to fidget instead.  Before Clara can try and reassure her, she sees a sleek silver Porsche with a personalized license plate of LUTHR II.  As Lex gets out of the car, Lana nearly snaps to attention, startling Clara.  

“Lana, Clara,” he says in greeting, clearly not surprised on seeing her standing there with Lana. 

“Lex,” they both greet in a chorus.  Giving her a look of support, Clara lets Lana go in first and only follows after her when Lex gestures for her to precede him. 

They start off with a thorough tour, including the basement which is serving as a temporary storage space for everything Lana and Nell hadn’t known what to do with when they’d packed up the Talon.  Clara can tell that Lex is familiar with the building – no doubt he’d already examined the place before he’d bought it – but he kindly doesn’t say anything to Lana, letting her show off the single-screen theater.

“This theater means something to a lot of people,” Lana says enthusiastically as they’re making their way back to the lobby.  “I spent every Saturday of my childhood here, 8th row center.  When the lights went down and the screen flickered to life, the problems outside these doors just disappeared.  It was like being transported to a magical place.” 

Although Lana’s delivery is topnotch, Lex doesn’t appear moved.  

“That’s a nice story.  But why is it so important to you, really?” 

Lana’s smile turns more wistful.  “My parents met here. I guess I’m just looking for something to hold on to.” 

“So I’m supposed to preserve this monument to Lana Lang’s sentimental memories?” he says, not unkindly. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she insists. 

He can’t help but point out, “You’re a teenager, Lana.  Mercurial doesn’t do you justice.” 

She crosses her arms across her chest.  “I thought you might understand. Clearly I was mistaken.” 

Before Clara can interrupt, Lex says, “This is business, Lana.  All these old storefronts are becoming professional office spaces.  This town needs a parking garage.” 

“So you’re going ahead with your plans?” Lana asks, sounding rather petulant to Clara’s ears. 

“You haven’t given me any reason to change my mind.” 

“Guys, wait,” Clara finally interjects, speaking up before either of them can say anything else.  Shooting Lana a tremulous smile, she digs through her backpack and hands Lex a stack of papers that she and her mother had hastily prepared the night before. 

“What’s this?” he asks, looking down at the top page where Clara had drawn what the renovated Talon could look like. 

“A business proposal.  Small towns across the country have revived their old downtowns, returning them to the social centers they once were.  They didn’t do this by building cookie-cutter malls, they did it by restoring the great old buildings that were already there, turning them into cafes, bookstores, restaurants.” 

Lex looks impressed as he skims through the papers.  “You want to turn the Talon into a bakery?” 

Clara nods.  “Main Street doesn’t have a dedicated eatery, and while the Beanery is a café, they don’t have a kitchen and the only baked treats they serve come from ordering from my mom.  Her baked goods always sell out quickly and there’s a constant demand for them. She’s willing to end her contract with the Beanery to bake for the Talon instead. Plus this place could also be a venue for local bands and art house movies.  And if you look on page 12, I found out you can register the building as a historic landmark, which gives you certain tax benefits.” She sheepishly adds, “Just don’t ask me to explain them. I didn’t exactly have the time to go over them in detail.” 

Lex thoughtfully nods.  “Who’s gonna manage it?” 

“My mom said she’d be willing.  She has not only run the Kent Organic Produce on her own for years but has also amassed a small baking empire.  She’ll also take a reduction in her salary if she can use the Talon’s kitchen to fulfill her other baking commitments during the off hours.  She’ll ensure her other duties won’t get in the way of her responsibilities to the Talon, and will even scale back if necessary. Not to mention that all that baking will certainly be a bonus since the constant smell of freshly baked goods will help attract even more customers.” 

Shooting Clara a bright smile, Lana chimes in.  “I’d also be more than happy to help… as long as I don’t have to make or serve any coffee.” 

Chuckling, Clara turns back to Lex.  “And if you still want your parking garage, if you make an offer for Fordman’s, I don’t think you’ll be turned down.”   

Seeing Lana’s eyes widen in surprise, Lex recalls what Clara has said about a friend and the heart medication, and comes to a not inaccurate conclusion. 

“How’d you come up with this?” 

Clara shrugs.  “The idea came to me after Lana mentioned broaching you about restoring the Talon.  I knew this place wouldn’t be able to make money as just a single-screen movie theater, but as a bakery, it could have a real shot.  Besides, making the Talon financially viable seemed like a challenge you’d appreciate.” 

Lex’s lips quirk into a smile.   

“So it’s a deal?” Lana asks, holding her breath. 

Lex scans the space around them before turning back to the papers in his hands.  “I need to look over everything, but if there’s nothing glaringly problematic, then yeah.  It’s a deal.” 

Clara’s eyes widen.  “Really?” 

Lex’s smile is soft as he looks at her.  “Really. I think this could be the start of a very… interesting partnership.” 

Once Lana enthusiastically hugs Clara and smiles at Lex before hurrying out to relay the good news to Nell, Clara turns back to Lex. 

“Thanks, Lex.” 

“Hey, don’t thank me.  You put together a really great proposal that’ll benefit everyone involved.  That’s not easy to do.” 

Clara shrugs modestly.  “Guess I learned from the best.” 

They share a warm smile before Lex opens the door for her.  “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” 

*** 

Martha is delighted by the prospect of running the Talon, the new challenge it represents and the increased income it will generate making it an exciting venture for her.  Although she loves being a wife and mother, the other aspects of her life in Smallville – like working on a farm – she does because she has to since it’s their biggest source of income, not because she particularly loves it.  Admittedly she’s come to accept and even at times enjoy farming, particularly her organic produce, but it’s not in her blood the way it is in Jonathan’s. That isn’t really a surprise of course considering she’d sought a degree in business for a reason, which, despite her father’s approval, had nothing at all to do with him.  So the fact that she’ll get to earn some much-needed income by doing what she loves – bake – is thrilling. 

And as a bonus, now they won’t have to take on the financial burden of converting a part of the barn into a kitchen to meet the increased demand of her baking commitments.  Although the orders for her baked goods have slowed when compared to the insane pace for the holidays, it has become abundantly clear that the kitchen in their house is insufficient, even with their new baking oven, if Martha hopes to keep up with the demand and maybe even expand to more locations.  She’s not sure how feasible that will be, since running the Talon will undoubtedly take up a lot of her time, but she’s eager to give it a try.    

Jonathan clearly disapproves – he’d strenuously objected to Clara’s idea the night before, citing Lionel’s track record as the reason why, though Clara’s point that Lex isn’t Lionel has at least managed to silence him for the moment – but his large misgivings seem to pale in comparison to Martha and Clara’s excitement and happiness.   

Before Martha can remind Jonathan of the financial necessity of her accepting the position of the Talon’s baker and manager in order to pay back not just her father but also the loans they’d previously taken out from the bank, a frantic knocking is heard on the kitchen door and Chloe hurriedly enters, clearly excited.  

“I’m getting my first byline in the Smallville Ledger!  Well, in their op-ed page, but still!” 

“Congratulations!” Clara says, and both Martha and Jonathan echo her.  “What’s it on?” 

“Oh, on my experience of being robbed in broad daylight!” 

The three Kents exchange looks that wonder at Chloe’s priorities even as Clara straightens.  “Are you alright?” 

Chloe waves off Clara’s concern.  “I’m fine, but my laptop!”  

Her smile now gone, Chloe frowns as she paces around the Kents’ kitchen.  “Thankfully I’d just backed up everything last night, but still! My precious laptop!  It’s my life!” she wails, before she stops and remarks, “Okay, how pathetic did that just sound?” 

“Did you get a good look at the thief?” Jonathan asks as Martha pours her a mug of coffee with a look of sympathy. 

Chloe nods.  “I’ve already given the man’s description to the police.”  Thanking Martha, she cradles the porcelain mug in the palms of her hands, and her cold fingers eagerly leech the heat from the hot coffee-warmed mug.  “And there were all these people around, watching, and none of them even bothered to help!” 

“I’m sorry, Chloe,” Clara says.  If only she’d been there, she could’ve easily prevented it! 

Chloe perks up again.  “It made for a great subject though!  My first article in the Smallville Ledger!”  

Chuckling, Clara just congratulates her again. 

Indeed, as Chloe had boasted, the Ledger’s issue on Monday carries a small op-ed written by the blonde, with the headline, ‘Smallville’s Real Problem: Bystander Apathy.’ 

Rather than being happy about it, however, Chloe frowns at Clara when she sees her.  Just as the blonde opens her mouth, Pete storms up to them.   

“I can’t believe you convinced your folks to get into bed with Lex fucking Luthor.”  

Clara blinks in surprise, taken aback by the vitriol from Pete.   

“First of all, I didn’t convince my parents to do anything,” she eventually manages to get out.  And that isn’t exactly a lie either. Her mother had been just as interested in her idea once she’d pitched it.  “Second of all, Lex hasn’t done anything to you. He in fact helped save your life, remember?” she points out, trying not to scowl. 

Pete defensively crosses his arms.  “So? One good deed doesn’t undo what he’s done.” 

Clara narrows her eyes.  “What has he done, exactly?” 

“Hmm, let’s see.  He screwed my family out of our creamed corn factory.” 

She rolls her eyes.  “Pete, that was twelve years ago, it was done by Lionel not Lex, and I’m sorry to point this out, but your folks willingly sold their factory to the then Pesticide King of Metropolis because they got paid a lot of money for it.  So maybe you should shut up about Lex and what you know nothing about, and be grateful he chose to save your sorry ass.” 

That comes out harsher than Clara had intended, but between everyone denigrating Lex for his father’s sins and the undeserving guilt her own father has been putting on his shoulders for all these years, she’s just a little too sensitive about it to be reasonable.  Still, she refuses to take it back because it isn’t as though she’s said anything wrong.

As Pete stalks off in a fury, Chloe looks at her with wide-eyed surprise.  “Remind me not to piss you off.” 

At her pointed look, the blonde huffs.  “Okay, so I was going to ream you out for saving Lana’s precious Talon but not even scoring me an interview with Lex.” 

Clara rolls her eyes.  “Lana’s the one who called Lex and asked for a meeting with him, she didn’t ask me to change his mind.” 

Chloe huffs again, but before she can say another word, Lana comes up behind them and interjects.  

“But you’re the one who actually had a real plan that convinced him.  I feel so stupid about how I approached it – did I make a complete fool of myself?” 

“Of course not,” Clara reassures her.  “So what if you didn’t give him a good enough business reason?  You’re not a businesswoman. You spoke from your heart, and that’s important too.” 

“Hey, so how did your aunt take it?” Chloe asks.

Lana smiles brightly.  “She was happy for me, and really impressed with Clara.”   

Clara highly doubts that, but she doesn’t argue.   

“Think you’ll go into business?” Lana asks.

Clara scrunches up her face.  “I don’t think so. Just because I came up with an idea that might work doesn’t mean I’ll be all that good at actually running a business.”

“I suppose,” Lana concedes, before saying supportively, “though if you do go into business, I think you’ll do great.”

“Thanks.  Anyway, is Nell planning to move or rent the current space from Lex?” 

Lana shrugs.  “She’s thinking about it.  She might actually move closer to Fordman’s if Lex succeeds in buying the department store to convert it into a parking garage.  I really hope so, for Whitney’s sake if nothing else.” 

Clara nods in agreement. 

*** 

When Clara eventually approaches Pete, he’s expecting her to apologize.  And she does, for what she’d said about his family, and about the way she’d spoken to him and the words she’d used, clearly feeling bad about that.  But she also pointedly doesn’t take back what she’d said in defense of Lex, insisting that she’d been right to do so since he hasn’t done anything wrong.  She even tries to say that Pete’s the one who had been out of line with regards to Lex.

“Seriously, Pete, Lex has done absolutely nothing to deserve being so vilified by everyone in Smallville,” she insists.  “In fact, that he put his own life at risk to save you guys despite the way nearly everyone in this town has treated him since the very first day he got here speaks volumes about his courage and compassion and integrity.” 

“The dude was just trying to save his own ass,” he angrily retorts.

“It’s his father’s ass that would’ve been in the line of fire, not his own,” Chloe points out.  “And even if it was, that doesn’t mean it still wasn’t incredibly brave of him to put his own life on the line to save us.” 

Filled with outrage and frustration, Pete storms out of the school building, nearly running over a few of the students in the process.  When he gets in his car, he finds himself automatically driving towards Hamilton’s barn. He decides to continue, figuring that learning about Hamilton’s progress on his meteor rock research is just the thing to help him calm down.  

Unfortunately for Pete, any hopes he has of learning about any progress Hamilton has made so far is quickly kiboshed when the man refuses to answer any of his questions and actually orders him to be silent, claiming Pete’s “prattle” annoys and distracts him from his delicate experiments. 

The fact of the matter is, Hamilton is always busy, running one experiment after another and constantly hunched over a table looking at something under a microscope.  But from what Pete can tell, he seems to have made zero progress in figuring out how to stop the meteor rocks from changing people. It’s been months since Jodi’s death and him sneaking around, ignoring and lying to his family and friends, yet he has nothing to show for it.  And Pete can’t help but fear that Hamilton isn’t all that interested in arriving at a solution, that he’s just happily using Lex Luthor’s money to satisfy his own scientific curiosity. 

Suddenly anxious and eager to be proven wrong, Pete uses Hamilton’s distraction to wander around the makeshift barn lab.  The computer, naturally, is password protected – and he has no idea what the password is – and while there are plenty of papers strewn about the place, he knows he won’t be able to make out any heads or tails of them, having already looked through them once before Hamilton had ripped the pages out of his hands.  And there’s nothing else in the barn that may help soothe his paranoia – nothing except for the fully grown flowers now housed individually in tall glass cases.  

The name started with the letter n, that much he remembers.  When he carefully peers down at the papers, he sees multiple mentions of nicodemus, and guesses that’s probably the name of the flower. 

Pete doesn’t know what they are or why they’re so important, but it’s clear Hamilton is very much interested in them, seeing as they’re the only things present in the barn besides meteor rocks and equipment.   

He needs to find out what they are. 

Pete’s research into the nicodemus doesn’t come up with much, but it does lead him to borrowing a book from the public library.  The diary of a priest who lived in Smallville in 1871 oddly makes him feel better, since it’s evidence that the town had been freaky even before the whole meteor rock situation.  While the priest’s account of these flowers bringing out the “basest instinct” in people is debunked as nothing but myth by historians and scientists, considering everything strange he’s seen thus far, he somehow doesn’t think so.  

“Whatcha reading?”  

Pete badly startles.  He drops his book and nearly knocks over Chloe in his haste to get up from the bleachers.   

“Whoa, chill!” she says as she regains her balance.   

He doesn’t know why Chloe is here when she should be in the Torch office working on putting the latest issue to bed.  He’d purposefully chosen the bleachers so he could read the book in peace, away from any nosy reporters and curious family members.  How had she found him? Why had she been looking for him? 

And then, to his horror, Chloe picks up the book he’d dropped. 

“The Nicodemus Diary?” 

Pete snatches the book back.  The action is instinctive, a panicked overreaction that’s guaranteed to spike the blonde’s interests, but he can’t help it.  All the lies he’s been telling claw up his throat, that the words to distract Chloe don’t come. Instead, all he can do is snap, “Mind your own damn business!”   

Then, ignoring the hurt look in her eyes, Pete stalks off. 

His stride doesn’t falter despite his regrets. 

*** 

Once all the details on Clara's proposal has been checked out by Lex, he stops by the Kent Farm to offer Martha a contract to be the baker and manager of the soon-to-be revamped Talon.  Although Jonathan is still not pleased that Martha is getting into business with Lex, she’s at least persuaded him enough that he’s stopped attempting to talk her out of it.  

Martha smartly gets their lawyer to look it over thoroughly, to ensure there aren’t any unpleasant surprises, before signing it.  She’s pleased to discover that Lex isn’t offering her some exorbitant salary, which would make her feel as though she’s being bought off in some way.  In fact, she thinks the salary is in line with what the assistant manager of the Beanery earns, which means Lex has indeed deducted her salary in exchange for allowing her to use the professional kitchen during the Talon’s off hours.  

Once the contract is signed, Lex, Martha, and the general contractor Lex has hired from Metropolis, do a thorough walk-through of the Talon.  Afterwards, since Martha’s other obligations prevent her from being able to just stop by the theater without notice, the Kents’ kitchen becomes their temporary meeting place of business instead, as they discuss the different renovations that will have to be done to the place to turn it into a functional bakery.  Jonathan is clearly not happy about having Lex as a frequent visitor, greeting the man with a scowl more often than not, but thankfully his work in the fields largely keeps him from running into the billionaire. And on the infrequent occasions when he sees a fancy car in their driveway, Jonathan opts to make himself scarce rather than entering the house and making a scene.   

As for Clara, unlike Jonathan, she’s readily welcomed to join them at the table, especially when, after overhearing Lex and Martha discuss how to pre-emptively deal with what will likely turn out to be a fierce competition between the Talon and the Beanery since the Talon will also be selling drinks, including coffee, she suggests that they offer something similar to a drive-thru in the rear of the building to completely dominate over the Beanery.

“Like, there isn’t really proper space for a drive-thru, but you could create a pick-up window at the back so that customers can call and place their orders in advance for a later pick-up.  And this way, they don’t have to find a parking space and get out of their cars, they can just drive up to the window to get their to-go orders. That’ll also help reduce the wait times and long lines.”

Lex looks at her in pleasant surprise.  “That’s a great idea, Clara. Why aren’t you joining us during these meetings?”

“Uh… because I’m not qualified?”   

“That's clearly nonsense.  You have great ideas and I know I’d appreciate your input.” 

When Martha echoes him, Clara happily consents and thereafter joins them in their meetings. 

With Clara’s encouragement, Martha agrees that the professional kitchen they’ll install should also be capable of making food, not just baked goods, in case they should wish to expand the bakery’s menu.  If Nell opts to not keep her flower shop next door, that space will be turned into a kitchen and an office, and if she does, then the basement will be converted instead. As for the apartment upstairs and the film screening room, they decide to leave them be for now since Lex doesn’t want to pay for all the renovations upfront as the possibility that the bakery may go under is rather high given the statistics on small business startups, particularly small eateries like theirs.  

As for the interior design, they all agree on simplicity, to fit the space and the community of Smallville, though with a touch of elegance, to make it an ideal spot for dates and special occasions.   

Leaving the selection of subcontractors who’ll renovate the Talon to Lex and her mother, Clara instead opts to search online for decor ideas.  She’s just printing out some promising color schemes and furniture she thinks will suit the space when Whitney hurriedly enters the Torch office.  He’s suffused with happiness, actually looking somewhat well rested for once and as though the weight on his shoulders is gone.   

Giving her a bright smile, he hugs her tightly and whispers fervently into her ear, “Thank you.”  

Clara is taken aback.  “Uh… You’re welcome?” 

“My parents have decided to sell the store!” he nearly shouts in his excitement.  “Now I can just focus on my classes and practice and won’t lose my scholarship. And it's all thanks to you.” 

“I’m just glad I could help,” she says sincerely. 

“You’ve done more than that.”  Whitney almost laughs in joy. “I’m actually going to get to train today too, and I’ll still have plenty of time to review things this evening if I need to.” 

“So it’s a good day then.” 

He eagerly nods.  To her surprise, he then leans forward and gives her cheek a kiss.  When he pulls back, Clara sees the look he’s always given Lana before – a gentle expression in his eyes combined with a soft smile curving his lips – but which is now aimed at her.

“You really are amazing, Clara.”   With that, he leaves the office to make his way to the gym to check out the various booths for Smallville High’s career fair day.  

Clara is so stunned she doesn’t move for a good few minutes. 

*** 

While most of Clara’s fellow Smallville High students know what they want to be when they grow up, she personally has no clue.  It doesn’t matter that many of those hopes are completely unrealistic and a mere fantasy, since they at least have goals and aspirations, however unattainable.  Clara has tried to picture herself in a variety of different careers, but while she definitely doesn’t want to be a farmer or a journalist, that’s about all she can definitively say.  She’s not sure if she truly believes Cassandra’s words about her being a hero and saving people using her powers, but even if that comes true, it’s not as though Clara can make a living out of doing that.  And all the positions where people’s lives are saved – police officers and firefighters, for example – every time she responds to a call, she’ll be risking her secret, closing those avenues to her. 

And so, with her future still so uncertain, when the announcement had been made that Smallville High is holding a career fair day, Clara had been looking forward to it, having intended to take full advantage.  But now, after what had just happened with Whitney, she is far more concerned with avoiding him – and Lana too, just in case. Thankfully for her, since each class will be visiting the gym at different times as to avoid overcrowding, that should be fairly easy to do.  And indeed, Clara soon sees Whitney making his way out of the school building with his football buddies, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

By the time it’s her class’s turn to check out the booths in the gym, Clara has successfully managed to convince herself that she’d imagined the whole thing and that Whitney had just been expressing his gratitude.  She eagerly joins the line of students making their way to the gym when she spies her blonde best friend, and promptly finds herself unable to do or think about anything else but stare incredulously at the eccentric outfit Chloe’s wearing.

“What do you think?” the blonde says as she twirls, showing off her getup.  “I’m going for a professional look to help me look the part of a journalist for the Daily Planet staff member manning the booth.”

The top half – a beige blouse and maroon blazer – looks quite normal, but Chloe’s wearing an… interesting pair of shiny white pants with thin maroon stripes that, if you squint, kind of matches the blouse and blazer.  Unfortunately, the already questionable pants have a short, maroon and gold skirt of sorts attached at the waist that isn’t at all the same shade of maroon as her blazer, which makes the matching idea fly right out the window.  

Clearly only someone with Chloe’s unique sense of style will consider what she’s wearing a professional get-up.  Clara thinks about suggesting she change, but since the outfit is so uniquely Chloe, she decides to leave her be.  If such a little thing throws off the Daily Planet recruiter, then they don’t deserve to have her best friend working for them in the first place.   

“You look great,” she says with a fond smile.

As Clara meanders around the gym, intent on checking out all the different booths, Chloe marches straight ahead, her only destination being the booth with the replica of the giant globe that sits atop the Daily Planet building in Metropolis.   

To Clara’s relief, there are indeed plenty of booths.  She makes sure to stop by all the different college ones – including Metropolis University, Kansas State University, and Central Kansas A&M University – and gets their information packets, though she knows that the decision of which college she’ll be attending will solely depend on the scholarship she’s offered.  Ideally she’ll be given a full ride so that her parents will have to pay as little as possible for her education. Thankfully her grades are excellent, and she hopes that along with acing the SATs will be enough.   

Clara lingers around the photography and art stalls, admiring the displayed paintings and photographs.  They’re all beautiful, of course, but despite the artists who insist she can learn and improve, Clara knows she’s definitely not good enough to be a professional artist or a photographer.  Her fear of heights means being a pilot or a flight attendant is out, even if the idea of being able to travel all around the world sounds quite appealing, and she’s not interested in going into the sciences – biology, particularly dissections, make her squeamish, and she finds chemistry and physics boring.  She’s also not exactly enthused about computer programming, since she doesn’t want to sit in front of a computer screen all day long. Nor can she picture herself as an accountant or going into finance despite being good at math. She also skips over the booth manned by a lawyer, since that’ll open a whole can of worms between her parents and her grandfather, and that’s certainly the last thing their fragile relationship needs right now.  At least being an architect or an engineer sounds somewhat intriguing, and so Clara makes sure to get the information packets from them, especially about education requirements.   

She naturally skips over the booths for the US Navy, Army, Air Force, and the Coast Guard, as well as those for the police, firefighters, and EMTs.  However, she does stop by the NASA booth and picks up an information packet. Just because she can’t be an astronaut doesn’t mean she can’t work there, and maybe even discover where she comes from. 

Having gone through all the booths in the gym, she’s looking around in search for Chloe when she nearly smacks into Principal Kwan’s son, Danny, who’s a recruiter for the US Air Force.   

“I see you in a uniform, flying,” he tells her.   

As she gives him an uncertain smile, he asks, “You ever consider a career in the Air Force?” 

“Um, I’ll think about it,” Clara says with an awkward smile, before she makes her escape.  

She soon spots Pete standing in front of the desk with lots of American flags on it, and after a quick internal debate, she swiftly makes her way towards him.  When she sees a ‘Re-elect Siegel for Mayor’ banner, she can’t help but raise her eyebrow. 

Pete happily accepts a yellow sheet of paper from the woman seated at the desk.  His expression turns cool when he sees her. 

“Hey,” Clara greets him carefully.  “What were you smiling about?” 

Pete looks like he’s considering just ignoring her, before he eventually boasts, “I just landed a summer job at Mayor Siegel’s office working on his re-election campaign.” 

“I thought you were gonna help your mom out down at the courthouse,” she points out. 

“Judge Ross can get some KSU students to schlep her files.  Besides, who wants to hang out with their parents all summer long?” he coolly remarks, looking at her smugly.

Clara would’ve normally felt that hit, but since she’ll be spending time with her grandfather at Coast City instead of working at her parents’ farm come summer, she just smiles.  “Well, good luck with that.  I’ll be visiting my granddad at Coast City – he’s promised to take me sailing, snorkeling, and scuba diving, too.  I can’t wait to spend an entire summer relaxing on the beach and swimming in the warm waters of the ocean.”

Pete scowls at her before leaving the gym altogether, but Clara refuses to feel bad since he’s had it coming.  When she turns back around, she at last sees Chloe and makes her way over.

“Hey, so did you notice Kwan’s son down at the Air Force booth?” Clara asks. 

The two of them look over and see Principal Kwan having what looks like an uncomfortable exchange with his son. 

“After growing up with a school principal as your dad, the Air Force must seem like Club Med,” Chloe remarks, before shaking her head and bringing up a far more important matter.  “Did you know that the Daily Planet only takes 4 high school interns from the whole state?” 

“Ah, you’re a shoe-in, Chloe,” Clara reassures her with a smile. 

“Tell him that,” she says, looking behind her at the Daily Planet booth.  “He said they received over 500 applicants last year.  I doubt I’ll even get an interview.” 

Realizing the blonde may perhaps have a reason to be worried, Clara points out the Metropolis Inquisitor stall nearby.  “There’s always the Inquisitor.  Didn’t Lex offer to hook you up?” 

Chloe shakes her head.  “No. I’m interning at the Planet.   I don’t care if it’s only delivering coffee to the classified department.” 

Clara thinks it’ll look better on Chloe’s resume to have actually learned something substantial at the Inquisitor rather than spending a summer delivering coffees at the Planet, but she keeps quiet, figuring the blonde probably knows better about this sort of stuff than her. 

“I’ll just have to try my luck again in Metropolis.”  Chloe brandishes a pamphlet she’d gotten from the Daily Planet booth.  “The student journalism conference is in a few weeks and it will not only allow me to scope out my competition but meet real reporters from the Planet, where hopefully my charm will sway them to accept my application.”  She flicks her hair before turning back to Clara, her smile far more tremulous than it had been moments earlier.  “You’ll come with me, right?” 

“Sorry, Chloe, but no can do,” Clara says, shaking her head.  “That’s a really busy time at the farm, I can’t just take off for a day.” 

She says cajolingly, “Come on, Clara, please?  It can be my birthday present!” 

Clara shakes her head again.  “I’m not lying, my parents really do need me on the farm.  Besides, you know I’m not really interested in journalism.” 

Seeing that Clara won’t be moved, Chloe sighs.  “Fine. Leave me all to my lonesome.” 

“Oh please.  Like you wouldn’t ditch me at the first whiff of a potential story,” she points out. 

Chloe pretends not to have heard as she makes her way towards the Metropolis University booth. 

*** 

They’re exiting the school building when Chloe suddenly says wheedlingly, “Clara, you know what present you could get me for my birthday that would be perfect?  And no, it’s not coming with me to the student journalism conference, even if that really would be great.” 

She sighs.  “Let me guess, an interview with Lex?” 

“An interview with Lex,” the blonde agrees.  “Come on, it’s not like I’m asking for your firstborn here!  I’ve repeatedly called to schedule one but I’m not getting through.  Pleeeeease?” she begs. “It’s the only thing I want for my birthday – well this and an internship with the Daily Planet, but if I score an interview Lex, I’m sure I’ll at least get asked to interview for a spot!”   

Having no intention of using her friendship with Lex to get Chloe an interview, she shakes her head.  Clara’s about to line up to board the school bus when the blonde hurriedly gets in front of her and tries to look pitiful.   

“You don’t want me to lose my chance at an internship with the Daily Planet, do you?”  

Despite the dramatics, there’s genuine fear and concern in Chloe’s voice.   

Sighing, Clara reluctantly agrees.  “Fine, I’ll ask Lex-” 

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Chloe says, hugging her tightly.    

Although Clara had reluctantly agreed to ask Lex on the blonde’s behalf, actually doing so feels… awkward and uncomfortable, because she’s taking advantage of her closeness with Lex.  After all, if Lex had wanted Chloe to interview him, he would’ve agreed when she’d asked. Clara is only being allowed to ask him directly on Chloe’s behalf because they’re friends.   

“Alright, out with it,” Lex says when she fidgets for the umpteenth time, clearly not paying any attention to the movie they’re supposed to be watching. 

Clara exhales sharply.  “I have a request on behalf of a friend, but I don’t want you to say yes unless you actually want to – in fact, you should probably say no-” 

Lex’s lips twitch.  “What’s the request?” 

She reluctantly admits, “Chloe wants to interview you.  Really, it’s probably best that you say no, because trust me, I’ve gone through Chloe’s brand of interrogation before and-” 

Thankfully, Lex looks amused rather than annoyed at her babbling.  “I doubt your friend Chloe is worse than the other reporters I’ve spoken to in the past.” 

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she mutters darkly. 

He smiles.  “Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take then.” 

Clara’s eyes widen.  “You’re agreeing to grant Chloe an interview?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’re not just agreeing with this cockamamie scheme because I asked you, right?” 

“Not just because you asked, no.”  He reaches for the bottles of Ty Nant on the table in front of them and offers her one.  “I know what the denizens of Smallville think of me, and since I’ve bought both the Talon and Fordman’s, I can certainly use some good press around here.” 

Clara slowly nods.  “Plus it’ll be a good way to capitalize on the situation by bringing attention to your future ventures.  Free advertising and all that.” 

Lex toasts her with his bottle.  “Now you’re getting it.” 

She still doesn’t miss that he’d partly agreed because it had been she who had asked. 

“Thank you, Lex.  Chloe’s going to be ecstatic.” 

Indeed, when she later calls Chloe to tell her the good news, the blonde declares her to be the best best friend anyone can have. 

*** 

Although Clara has always been free to make her own way to Lex’s study, apparently being accompanied by Chloe means they need to be led there by a member of the mansion’s security team, who Lex has hired after Jeff had assaulted him in his own home.   

Despite her warnings about Chloe, Lex looks amused when he sees her tagging along.  However, Clara has no intentions of letting the blonde loose around him without any supervision.   

“You’ll thank me for this,” she mutters sotto voce when he greets her. 

As Lex and Chloe take their respective seats – Lex in his chair behind his glass desk and Chloe across from him in one of the armchairs – Clara unpacks the equipment and starts to set up.  She’s just placed the video camera on the tripod when Chloe turns to her.

“Are you ready?” Chloe asks her impatiently, a notebook on her lap and a pen held at the ready.

Clara adjusts the angle of the video camera so that she can get both Lex and Chloe in the frame.  She isn’t sure why Chloe wants a video recording of the interview when a simple tape recorder will do the job just as well, but she hadn’t protested when the blonde had insisted upon it. 

“Yeah, all set.  I’m starting the recording… now,” Clara says as she presses the record button. 

Chloe of course begins in her no holds barred fashion.  “So, Mr. Luthor. Are there any more secret construction projects going on at LuthorCorp like Level 3?” 

“Please, call me Lex,” he says with a genial smile on his face. 

Chloe is clearly unmoved.  “Okay, Lex. Are you going to answer my question?” 

“Chloe…”  

The blonde turns to her with an annoyed look on her face.  “What?” 

“It’s okay, Clara,” Lex says with a reassuring smile, before turning back to Chloe.  “Our critics are our friends. They show us our faults.” 

“Benjamin Franklin,” Chloe notes, thawing a little. 

Lex nods and is about to say more when one of his security staff enters through the opened study doors and clears his throat. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Luthor.  Your father’s on the phone.” 

“I need to get this,” he tells Chloe, who’s back to looking annoyed again.   

“I’ll take it in the conservatory,” he tells the man before turning to the blonde and leaning a little closer to her over the desk.  “I look forward to resuming our verbal judo.” 

Chloe can’t help but smile at that.  Lex echoes it before shooting Clara a more genuine one and leaving the study. 

Once they’re gone from sight, Chloe stands up and starts to walk around.  “I wonder if he’s really taking a call or if he’s just trying to avoid me.”  

“Lex wouldn’t have agreed to give an interview in the first place if he wasn’t willing to answer your questions,” she points out. 

Chloe nods, acknowledging her point.  She stops in front of the wall by Lex’s desk where a large bookcase with first edition books and priceless antiques are carefully displayed on its shelves.  She takes a closer look at an ancient urn with engravings on its body.   

“Wow, that’s really cool.  Do you think it’s real?” 

Clara, who’s familiar with all the artifacts from her many visits to the mansion, nods.  “Yeah, it’s real.”  She doesn’t elaborate further, however, knowing the blonde has little interest in history. 

To Clara’s surprise, an annoyed look crosses Chloe’s face.  As she blinks, trying to figure out what’s wrong, she quickly realizes it’s because Chloe had been hoping she’d come over there and examine the urn.  It only takes a few more seconds before she cottons on to Chloe’s plan – with Clara’s back turned to the rest of the study, no doubt it would have easily allowed the blonde to escape her supervision to snoop around the mansion.  Naturally it wouldn’t have worked given her powers, but Chloe doesn’t know that. 

“Chloe!” she chastises. 

“What?  I haven’t done anything!” the blonde protests. 

At the pointed look from Clara, she sighs.  “You can’t blame me. This place is a mansion, it’s designed for snooping!”   

Seeing the unimpressed look on her face, Chloe sighs again.  “Okay, fine. I’ll wait here in the library for Lex to officially blow us off.” 

Unbeknownst to them, three men in stereotypical black ski masks with strategically cut-out holes of thieves everywhere are planning to rob Lex’s secret vault, which is hidden behind the very bookcase Chloe had been looking at.  Not realizing the study isn’t empty, their sudden appearance by phasing through the wall on the other side of the room startle both groups. 

“Chloe, run!” Clara yells, even as the men rush towards them, hoping to take them out quickly so they can conduct their robbery. 

As Chloe runs out of the study, chased by one of the men, the two remaining thieves make their way towards Clara.  Starting to feel weak and nauseous, a clear sign of meteor rock presence, she backs away, and grabbing one of the chairs in front of Lex’s desk, she throws it at the thief closest to her.

She’s stunned when she sees it go through him.  

The other man looks at his watch and says, “We don’t have enough time.  Let’s just get outta here!” 

But the first man isn’t listening.  Too shocked and weak to fight back, Clara can’t resist as he puts her into a chokehold, and as he does, she groans in pain as it feels like her blood is boiling. 

Frustrated at being so thwarted, the second man punches Clara in the gut, and then to her horror, his hand goes into her stomach. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he says gloatingly as he wriggles his fingers.  “It feels like someone’s chewing up your insides. If I stay in long enough, I can do some serious damage.” 

Clara can only let out another pained groan.  Thankfully, the first man hits her on the back of her head, knocking her unconscious and sparing her further agony.  As she collapses onto the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut, the men look at their watches before cursing, having run out of time.  Grabbing their still empty duffel bags, they hurriedly make their way out of the study. 

Meanwhile, out in the hall, the third man manages to catch Chloe from behind.  Her struggles while in his hold causes his jacket sleeve to roll up, and she sees a glowing green tattoo on his arm.  She hits him in the face and tries to get away, but he grabs her arms. When Chloe kicks him, he throws her away from him – and right through a stained glass window. 

“Move it!  Move it!” the would-be thieves yell to each other as they make a run for it. 

“Clara!” Chloe shouts from where she’s hanging on outside the window.  Unfortunately it’s been pouring rain all evening and the stones she’s clutching are slippery.  Chloe loses her grip and screams as she falls. 

When Clara regains consciousness, she gets up and hurries out into the hall.  Unfortunately, rather than the would-be thieves, she sees the shattered remnants of a window.  Fear churning in her gut, Clara looks down, and is devastated when she sees Chloe lying unconscious on the ground. 

“Chloe!” 

*** 

Clara doesn’t recall the trip to the hospital.  She assumes she must’ve ridden in the ambulance, or maybe she got a ride with Lex.  All she knows is that she isn’t allowed in Chloe’s room yet and that Mr. Sullivan had been a tearful presence beside her until he’d gone to speak to the doctors.  She knows she must’ve spoken with her parents at some point, given the late hour, but she has no idea what she’s told them. 

When the door to the room Clara is waiting in opens, rather than Mr. Sullivan, it’s Lex.  He walks over and sits down in the chair beside her.   

“Clara, don’t worry.  I brought in the best doctors from Metropolis.” 

“Is she gonna be alright?” 

Lex pauses before saying carefully, “The doctors aren’t sure yet.  The fall was pretty bad and there’s a risk of brain swelling.” 

Clara stands and paces, and runs a frustrated hand through her hair.  “I should have gotten to her!” 

“I don’t mean to belabor the obvious, Clara, but this isn’t your fault.” 

Except she knows better.  If she’d managed to pull Lex and Earl up even while exposed to meteor rocks under Earl’s skin, she should’ve been strong enough to fight off the assailants and been fast enough to catch Chloe before she fell. 

Lex gently places a hand on her shoulder.  “Clara, I know you want to, but you can’t save everyone.  No one can. And if you try, all you’ll end up with is a messiah complex and burnout.” 

Clara knows Lex is right, but she can’t listen to that right now.  She swiftly changes the subject. “I just don’t know what happened.  One minute it was just the two of us in the room, and then those three men appeared out of thin air.  Do the police have any leads?” 

“There have been over a dozen of these robberies all over the county.  This gang somehow gets in and out without busting a single lock. They even tried to hit the Smallville Savings & Loans.” 

Clara’s brows furrow.  “I didn’t hear about that.” 

Lex’s lips quirk.  “Banks don’t publicize attempted robberies, Clara.  It’s bad for their image.” 

She points out, “If nothing was taken, how do they know there was a robbery attempt?” 

“Apparently they tripped an alarm inside the vault.  Although no one knows how they got in there in the first place.” 

“Then are you beefing up your own security?  What happens if they try again?” 

Lex shakes his head.  “Don’t worry about that, Clara.  I’m going to find the people who did this to Chloe, and when I do, I promise you they will be dealt with accordingly.” 

She grabs Lex’s hand.  “Wait, what does that mean?” 

Lex gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.  “It means you should let me worry about it.  Now, let me drive you home so you can get some rest.” 

Clara wants to protest, wants to stay at the hospital with Chloe, but seeing Mr. Sullivan entering his daughter’s room to keep vigil by her bedside, she reluctantly nods. 

*** 

By the time they arrive at the Kent Farm, it’s early enough in the morning that the sun hasn’t risen yet, and while the lights are on downstairs, her parents are probably still asleep.  Unwilling to disturb them, Clara makes her way to the loft – and the worn couch there – instead. Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t come, and realizing she needs to burn off some of her anxious energy and aggression in order to get some rest, Clara makes her way back downstairs and decides to start chopping up the gathered piles of wood with her hand. 

She’s in the middle of making mincemeat of the wooden logs when Martha and Jonathan enter the barn.  They have, in fact, been awake since they’d gotten the call from Clara, and have been waiting up for her.  They’d seen Lex’s car leaving but when Clara doesn't come into the house, they'd decided to head out to the barn to check on her.

“Clara, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Martha asks. 

“Trying to make myself useful.” 

Jonathan picks up the scraps of wood from the ground.  

“Hey Clara, we need firewood, not toothpicks,” he says with a small smile. 

Clara isn’t in the mood.  “I know what you guys are gonna say.  It’s not my fault. Lex already told me.  So did Mr. Sullivan.” 

Jonathan looks at her steadily.  “They’re right, Clara. You did the best you could.” 

She shakes her head.  “No, I didn’t, and because of that, Chloe could’ve died!” 

Martha says firmly, “Sweetheart, becoming an adult means learning a lot of difficult lessons.  One of which is you can’t save everybody, no matter who you are and what kind of powers you have.” 

When Clara continues to pace around the barn in frustration, realizing that attempt at reassurance isn’t working, Martha says instead, “You said you could feel the effects of the meteor rocks.” 

At Clara’s sharp nod, she points out, “Honey, you know what that does to you.  You tried your best.” 

“I just don’t know where it was coming from.”  Clara snarls in frustration. “Sometimes I just wish I could leave this town and get away from all the damn meteor rocks.” 

“Hey, hey,” Jonathan says, stopping Clara before she can pulverize more firewood.  Just to be safe, he picks up the log to get it out of her reach. “I know you will, you’ll get that chance.  But running away is not gonna solve anything.” 

Martha chimes in.  “If you want to make yourself useful, don’t hang around here feeling sorry for yourself.  Go, see what you can find out.” 

Knowing their advice is sound, Clara nods and leaves the barn. 

*** 

Using the backup keys Chloe had given her in case she ever loses the original, Clara sneaks into the school while it’s closed for the weekend to both use one of the computers in the Torch office and to look through Chloe’s collection of recent Smallville Ledger issues.  A couple of hours of research results in the relevant facts in hand, and it becomes quite clear to Clara that the cops have no idea who the thieves are – in fact, they don’t even have any viable suspects. 

Despite their current standoff, the first person Clara calls is Pete.  He has not only worked on investigating odd cases with them before, but he has just as much interest in seeing Chloe’s attackers brought to justice as she does.  And so, as soon as he answers the phone, she mentions a possible lead with the attempted bank robbery.  

Except he turns her down. 

“Look, I know you feel bad and I’m worried about Chloe too, but I got three words for you: official police investigation.” 

“The police haven’t done a thing!” she argues.  “There have been a dozen robberies in the past six months, all with the same freaky M.O.  No sign of entry, the jewels and the cash just vanished. Except for the bank. Lex says they triggered an alarm inside the vault.  But how did they get inside?” 

The mention of Lex only makes Pete more resistant, so in the end, Clara heads to Smallville Savings & Loans by herself.  To her relief, the vault is easily visible through the window, and so she uses her x-ray vision to look through it from the outside.   

She’s surprised to see a human arm within the metal door. 

*** 

While Lex feels terrible that Chloe had gotten hurt, he’s quite relieved she and Clara had been in his study to thwart the robbers.  The unauthorized access Lex has made for himself to siphon money from Lionel and LuthorCorp – which, quite frankly, his father more than deserves – had been hidden in his vault.  He’s since moved it somewhere safer, but had it not been for Clara and Chloe, it’s very likely the thieves would have gotten ahold of it and maybe even tried to blackmail him with it.   

Still, just because the thieves have been thwarted doesn’t mean he doesn’t want retribution – both for attempting to rob him and as payback for hurting Chloe, who had not only been a guest in his home but Clara’s best friend and the only child of his plant manager.  In the meantime, he wants to find out just how the purported top-notch security he’s hired has been circumvented so easily.   

“I don’t care,” Lex snaps into the phone.  “If I wanted excuses, I’d talk to the police.”  

The man spouts apologies again, before reassuring him that they’re the best private security firm in Metropolis for a reason and will get the whole thing sorted out.

“Good, or you’ll be lucky to still be working as a bouncer when this is over,” Lex threatens before hanging up the phone. 

*** 

When Clara gets a call from Chloe’s father that she’s finally awake, she rushes to the hospital, not even bothering to shower.  If anyone thinks it’s odd that she’s still dressed in pajamas with only a jacket thrown on in deference to the weather, they don’t remark on it.  Not that Clara would have noticed any odd looks, too focused as she is on getting to Chloe to pay attention to anything else.  

“Hey,” the blonde greets her with a smile.  She has ugly bruises on the left side of her face and around her eye, and her broken left arm is in a splint, but the smile is all Chloe.  She notices the pajama bottoms Clara is wearing and her smile turns into a frown. “Did you just get up?” 

“Your dad called and told me you were awake.” 

“Yeah, but you could’ve gotten changed, Clara.  You’d still be my first official visitor,” she says, though she looks pleased. 

Clara walks towards the bed.  “How’re you feeling?” 

“Like a million bucks… thrown in the washing machine set on spin.” 

“Everyone was real worried about you.” 

“Yeah, I noticed.”   

When Clara turns to where Chloe is looking, she sees numerous bouquets of flowers on the table and floor.   

“I especially like the ones from Lex.  They make me feel like I won the Kentucky Derby.” 

Clara’s lips twitch into a smile at that, but it quickly falls when she looks back at Chloe.  “I, uh. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

Chloe looks at her quizzically.  “For what?” 

“Letting you get hurt,” she confesses. 

“Well, I am perturbed with you, Clara.”  Seeing Clara’s face fall, the blonde rolls her eyes.  “I’m also mad that you didn’t put out the Chicago fire of 1871.  Or prevent the fall of the Roman Empire, making you directly responsible for the Dark Ages.” 

Clara laughs in relief at that.  “Thanks.” 

Chloe’s big smile at the job well done makes Clara echo it, and she swears that the blonde’s grin brightens up the room even more than the hospital’s fluorescent lighting. 

“Hey, so my dad wouldn’t tell me, but did the cops catch those guys?” 

Clara shakes her head.  “Do you, uh, do you remember anything?” 

Chloe’s eyes narrow in thought.  “Besides their ability to suddenly appear out of nowhere?  There was one other thing. The guy that grabbed me, he had a tattoo on his forearm.  An octagon, maybe. What’s going on, Clara? Do you think it’s like the situation with Jeff?” 

“Considering that a chair I threw at one of them actually went through his torso, I don’t think so.”

Chloe’s eyebrow quirks up in surprise.  “Huh.”

“I’ve been trying to do some digging but I haven’t found much since I’m not you.” 

Chloe smiles.  “Flatterer. Still, Clara Kent, investigative reporter, has a nice ring to it.” 

“Ha ha ha,” she says with a mock glare.  She kisses Chloe on the forehead. “I’ll hold down the fort.  You get some rest.” 

“I’ll try.  Thank you for coming, even in your pajamas.  Maybe especially in your pajamas.” 

They exchange fond smiles before Clara leaves. 

*** 

The Fordman’s department store is packed with what seems like the entire population of Smallville as everyone is there to take advantage of the week-long store closing sale.  The Kents are no exception, and despite Clara’s protests, since she has come up with no leads and Chloe is on the mend, her parents insist she help them shop. Martha gives her a list of items they need to buy, and she splits it three-ways when she sees the crowd. 

Clara’s speed is largely useless in such a throng, but at least she can still see over most people’s heads to find out where she needs to go, and when she can’t, her x-ray vision comes in real handy.  She makes her way through the list, grabbing the items she’s been tasked to find. She has a basket, but the big-ticket items she just carries directly to where her mother’s waiting in line at the cash register. 

When Clara is finished with her portion of the list, her mother tells her to be on the lookout for a microwave, as the one they have at home is on its last legs.  When Clara heads for the appliances section, all the microwaves have unfortunately already been snatched up. Wanting to know if there are any more in the back, she looks around to see if she can flag someone for assistance.  However, all the employees are swarmed and Mrs. Fordman is busy helping out at the cash register. She spots Whitney, and while he looks no less harried, he has the least number of people surrounding him with questions and requests.   

Despite having concluded she must’ve been imagining things, Clara still feels awkward approaching Whitney.  But knowing she doesn’t have a whole lot of options, she slowly makes her way over and lines up.  

“Hey, Whitney?” she hesitantly says once the person in front of her leaves. 

“Hey!”  He shoots her a tired smile.  “How’s Chloe?” 

“Better.  She’s awake now,” she tells him, a relieved smile appearing on her lips. 

“Good, I’m glad.” 

“Listen, I’m here to pick up a microwave for my mom, but there aren’t any left on the floor.  Do you by any chance have more in the back?” 

His brows furrow in thought.  “We should. I’ll make sure to bring one out for you.  You can pick it up at the counter, okay?” 

“Thanks, Whitney.” 

Before he can head to the back, two men approach them.  The fake blond has a scruffy beard dyed to match, while the other, shorter and clean-shaven brunet, is carrying a baseball bat.   

“Hey, aren’t you Whitney Fordman?” the brunet asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Wade Mahaney.  I saw you throw for 300 yards against Topeka last year.  That was a great game, man. Say, uh, I heard that you were trying for a full ride to Kansas State.” 

Whitney nods, and gives a proud smile.  “Yeah, got a scholarship there. I’ll be going in the fall.” 

“That’s cool,” Wade says, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  “I had a dozen schools offer me full scholarships, but they all went away when I got sacked senior year and blew out my knee.  I had to have four operations.” 

Clearly uncomfortable, Whitney just says, “Tough break.  Sorry man,” before turning back to Clara. “I’ll get the microwave for you, okay?” 

Clara nods.  The two men look at Whitney’s retreating back, and the look they’re giving him makes her wary.  No doubt it must’ve hurt to have lost all those scholarships after suffering such a devastating injury.  But while she can understand his jealousy, it’s not like it’s Whitney’s fault that he’s going to KSU on a football scholarship where this guy failed. 

Just then, the blond man reaches up for a pair of running shoes over his head, causing his sleeve to roll down.  On his forearm is a large tattoo similar to an octagon, which he quickly hides once he realizes it’s visible.  

Clara moves around surreptitiously, wanting to get a firm look at their faces without tipping them off that she’s onto them.  She also uses her x-ray vision to get another look at the tattoo, and she’s surprised by the sheer number of tattoos the both of them have on their bodies.  Sure, lots of people have tattoos, but there’s usually some kind of meaning behind them. Here, the tattoos are simple, random designs, not even drawn all that well, and there’s nothing linking them, not in placement or style.  In fact, it almost looks like each tattoo has just been placed on the next available patch of skin, with no forethought involved.  

Frowning, she quickly makes her way back to her parents before she’s caught staring at them. 

***  

Clara is in the loft, busy searching through old yearbooks she’s taken from the Torch office when Lana hurries up the stairs. 

“Hey, Nell said you called.  She said it sounded urgent.” 

“It’s about those guys who hurt Chloe.  She told me when I went to visit her at the hospital that she saw a tattoo that looked like an octagon on the forearm of the man who tossed her out the window.  I saw someone with a similar tattoo at Fordman’s. A guy who was with him said his name is Wade Mahaney, so I’ve been looking through these yearbooks. I think I found them.” 

Lana looks at the photos on the table in front of her.  “Wade Mahaney and Scott Bowman, class of ’96. Who are these guys?” 

“They were Whitney once upon a time.  All-Star athletes, lettered in football, baseball, basketball.  They ruled the school.” 

Lana frowns.  “What happened?” 

“I did some checking, and according to the Ledger, Wade got injured and Scott got caught up in drugs.” 

“They watched their futures vanish,” she concludes.  “Do you think Whitney’s in danger?” 

“Maybe.  Not because they’re going to rob Fordman’s – I don’t think it’s a big enough target for them to hit, even with all the money from the clearance sale – but because they’re jealous of Whitney’s football scholarship to KSU.  The look those guys were shooting him at the store earlier gave me the creeps.” 

Once Clara also adds that Lana should let Whitney know to stick to crowds since there’d been three of them, far too many for him to take on by himself, Lana takes off, looking worried, intent on letting Whitney know so he can be careful.  She doesn’t mention anything about their ability to… phase, since Whitney knows nothing about meteor rocks and its ability to mutate people.  Besides, knowing that fact won’t help him any since there’s really nowhere safe to be, what with their ability go through walls.

The best way to stop them, of course, is to figure out how they’re able to phase in the first place.  Unfortunately, despite having two of the thieves’ names, Clara doesn’t really get anywhere in discovering just how they’re managing to phase through solid objects, or even their current address.  When a few hours of fruitless searching doesn’t get her anywhere, she decides to take a break and go visit Chloe.  

“Clara!” Chloe happily greets.  Once Mr. Sullivan again makes himself scarce so the two of them can talk, she harangues Clara to tell her everything she’s found so far. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Clara reminds her. 

“You know what?  All this resting is driving me insane.  These so-called healthcare professionals just want me to stay in bed and eat Jell-O.” 

“Those fascists,” Clara says blandly. 

Chloe’s pleasant mask drops and she turns serious.  “Clara, I need to do this, okay? Don’t cut me out of it, please?” 

She looks so pitiful and small in the hospital bed that Clara can’t help but reluctantly acquiesce.  “Okay.”   

“Tell me everything you’ve found,” Chloe demands. 

When Clara tells her about the two washed up football players and their weird tattoos, Chloe goes silent for a long moment.  

“What if these guys are using meteor rock tattoos to speed up their metabolism?” she says at last.  “I mean, their molecules are literally moving at hyperspeed.” 

Clara slowly nods.  “And that’s how they’re able to go through solid objects?”  

Recalling that they’d seemed to worry about the time – and considering the arm she’d seen within the metal door at Smallville Savings & Loans – she adds, “But it mustn’t last for long since they seemed to be timing themselves, so the power the meteor rock tattoo gives them must fade.” 

Chloe tilts her head in thought.  “And I doubt all that hyperspeed is good for their bodies either.” 

Clara finds she has a hard time mustering up sympathy for thieves who had almost killed her best friend. 

*** 

With Chloe’s assistance, Clara is finally able to track down the property that is rented in Wade Mahaney’s name.  It’s in the outskirts of Smallville, and it looks exactly like what she imagines a bunch of frat guys would think is “cool” – neon lights, dirty murals, multiple large television screens, arcade games, and a huge bar with bottles of alcohol everywhere.  When she walks around both inside and outside the property, she can’t see anyone, not even when she uses her x-ray vision, making her wonder if they’ve gone out to rob someone. 

Searching for tattooing equipment and meteor rocks is easy given her powers and her debilitating weakness in their presence, and so she’s able to locate them fairly quickly.  Staggering away from the surprisingly sterile-looking room until she’s no longer in excruciating pain, she uses her heat vision to destroy everything within, including the vials of glowing green liquid. 

After putting out the fire with her arctic breath, Clara then quickly speeds around the property to see if she feels weak or nauseous anywhere else.  Once she’s assured she’s destroyed all of their meteor rock supplies, she heads over to the mansion to warn Lex, just in case they’ll try to rob him again. 

Clara’s intuition turns out to be right on the money.  Lex, of course, has thoroughly prepared. His security team had interviewed all of his staff, since no one else would have known about his hidden room, and had discovered that it had been one of the new maids who had tipped the thieves off.  When they’d confronted her, however, she’d insisted she hadn’t known they would try to rob him or kill anyone. She’d apparently just thought the existence of a secret room behind a bookcase had been an interesting tidbit to share with her boyfriend.  

With that information in hand, Lex and his security team decide to lay out a trap for the thieves.  Having pretended to move all of his valuables out of the hidden room and into the room where his wrecked Porsche used to be just in case he has other spies surveilling him, Lex then has the maid call her boyfriend to inform him of the new location of his valuables – once they promise her a cut of whatever they steal. 

To her credit – or perhaps it would be better to say to her discredit – she’s a good actor, and delivers the lines and negotiates the terms quite well.  Certainly well enough to fool the thieves, at least.  

Then, Lex and his security team wait. 

Unfortunately for the thieves, there’s nothing valuable in the room, the bags being filled with nothing but rocks.  When they discover they’ve been had, they start to rage. 

“Luthor, you son of a bitch!  Where’s the money?” 

Despite the increased presence of security personnel, however, the thieves’ ability to phase means bullets go through them without injuring them, and they’re easily able to evade all physical attacks.  On top of that, they’re also able to put their arms through people, causing them immense pain until they’re rendered unconscious, and in some cases, even killing them.   

Being the first to go through all the security to reach Lex, Wade grabs him by the neck and chokes him.  “Where’s the money?” 

“Wade, we gotta go!”  

But it’s too late.  They’ve stayed too long and their meteor rock tattoos are fading without their notice.  By then, a couple of the still alive though downed security guards use what little strength remains and shoots – and this time, the bullets don’t phase through them. 

All three thieves collapse in puddles of blood, and Lex clutches his throat as he gasps for air. 

*** 

By the time Clara arrives at the mansion, the dead bodies of the thieves and Lex’s security are being taken away, and Lex is being examined by the EMTs.  

“Lex!” 

He whips his head around, and seeing Clara being held at bay by the police, he signals the deputies to allow her through.  They reluctantly do so, and she rushes over towards him.   

Clara wants to give him a hug, but not wanting to get in the way of the EMTs, she just clenches her hands uselessly by her sides.  Eyeing the livid ring of handprints around his throat, she asks, “Is he alright?”    

“I’m fine,” Lex reassures her.   

She frowns at the croaky way his voice sounds.  Shooting him a skeptical glance, she turns to one of the EMTs, who, upon Lex’s nod, says, “His vocal cords are bruised and his throat will be sore for some time, but he should heal without any complications.”  He gives Lex a pointed look. “The best remedy is to rest your voice. And I still recommend you get yourself checked out at the hospital, just to make sure there’s nothing more serious going on.” 

“He will,” Clara says firmly.  “Right, Lex?” 

Lex looks amused, but nods his head in acquiescence. 

Chapter Text

Hello everyone!  

I meant to have this chapter posted months ago, but 2020 has not gone at all according to plan, and honestly, 2021 hasn't started off all that great either.  I hope you're all doing much better than me, and that you and your loved ones are safe and healthy.  Sincere apologies for being late; I hope this chapter makes up for the long delay.  

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen

It takes a few days, but the livid ring of bruises around Lex’s neck fades and his voice returns to normal.  It’s faster than it should be, but not so much so as to be remarkable.  He’s clearly been unobservant, but there’s every likelihood that even had he been paying attention, he may have dismissed it as nothing of significance or concern.  What is less excusable is his blatant, wilful ignorance over the impeccable state of his health following the loss of his hair, with not even a single instance of an illness occurring since he’d been 9 years old despite his at times reckless behavior that should have led to major consequences for him.   

Lex has never thought twice about how he no longer gets sick, simply having attributed it to growing out of his childhood illnesses, though with the benefit of hindsight he can see that flimsy explanation fails to explain how he no longer even gets a common cold.  Admittedly, he’d quite frankly been far too relieved to examine the situation closely, having despised his weak, frail, severely asthmatic body and its susceptibility to any and all illnesses, which had largely kept him indoors and isolated from his peers.  Besides, after that fateful visit to Smallville, he’d had other concerns that had taken precedence and had occupied his mind.  

It still does not excuse his blindness, of course, or the fact that it’d taken an anomaly in his blood workup being brought to his notice before he’d at last started to pay attention.  But he’s finally paying attention now, and just in time too.  Given his elevated white count despite his clean bill of health and such irregularities being observed in other Smallville residents, and considering Chloe Sullivan’s Wall of Weird, Hamilton’s theory about the meteor rocks altering cellular makeup does not seem so far-fetched.  If Lex’s improved immune system is due to his exposure to meteor rocks, it’s not only fascinating but the possibilities for the creation of potential cures to what is currently considered incurable would be extremely profitable. 

Which is why he’d opted to fund Hamilton’s promising research.  

Except now it seems as though there’s far more potential to these meteor rocks than even he’d expected, if those thieves’ ability to phase through solid matter is indeed, as he believes, linked to the meteor rocks.  It’s pure conjecture on his part, of course, but considering all the strangeness he’s encountered or read about in Smallville thus far, he has a feeling he’s on the right track.

Perhaps it’s time for Lex to check in on Hamilton.  He’d given the scientist his freedom and independence because he’d known closely monitoring him and asking for frequent updates would only lead him to balk.  But considering the tantalizing possibilities in reach, he definitely wants to know what progress Hamilton has made thus far in his research. 

Lex reaches for the phone.

***

Chloe’s stay in the hospital isn’t a very long one, thankfully, and she’s discharged once the swelling of her arm goes down and her splint is replaced with a cast.  She’s still bruised, even if they’re showing signs of starting to fade, but despite that, she’s smiling and looks to be in great spirits as they wait outside the hospital while her father brings the car around.

“Ah, the sweet smell of freedom.” 

“Chloe, you were in the hospital, not Alcatraz,” Clara points out. 

“Spend a week in there and you’d feel like a prisoner too.  I mean, come on.  Eating bad food, lights out by 9, and no cable?  I’m thinking about doing an exposé.” 

Clara can’t help but laugh.  “It’s good to have you back.” 

“Thanks!” Chloe says, smiling brightly.  “Now I just have to reschedule my interrupted interview with Lex-”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Clara interrupts with a frown.  “Your arm’s in a cast, not to mention Lex’s own injuries…”

Chloe waves off her concern.  “Just because my left arm is in a cast doesn’t mean I can’t conduct an interview.  And I suppose I can give Lex a couple more days to get better.”

“How magnanimous of you,” she says dryly.  

Pete’s arrival with a cup of mocha in hand immediately distracts Chloe, derailing whatever remark she may have made, and then Mr. Sullivan pulls up in his car and there’s no more conversation to be had in the midst of flurries of well wishes before the Sullivans drive off.  

Thankfully, Chloe’s father intervenes before she can call Lex, insisting that, with the exception of school, she must stay home to rest and recuperate.  He even insists she do the majority of the work for The Torch at home, and even buys her a new laptop as an early birthday gift to make that easier for her.

Despite being thankful for the gift, Chloe naturally balks at his restrictions, but her father doesn’t budge.  He’d come so close to losing his only child that he can’t bear to let her out of his sight unless absolutely necessary, and to her dismay, her extracurriculars don’t fall under that category.  But as the days pass and her bruises heal and her father’s hypervigilance calms, it becomes a lot harder to continue mandating that she rests.  Eventually her protests and arguments successfully convince him to let her return to normality. 

Clara attempts to convince the blonde to postpone the interview upon learning that she’s already called up Lex, but is unsurprised when she fails.  When she then tries to reason with Lex, citing his bruised throat, she only receives assurances that he’s completely healed.  In fact, he even offers to come by the Torch office for the interview.  Realizing the futility of trying to change the minds of two very stubborn people, Clara instead resigns herself to supervising the whole endeavour.  

Although Clara carefully keeps her eyes on both of her friends to make sure neither of them are overdoing it, in the end, such caution proves to be unnecessary.  Lex is completely healed, his voice back to normal and the bruises gone.  And Chloe successfully manages to conduct her interview, though she has to rely more on her tape recorder than she’d previously planned.   

To Chloe’s delight, her article not only gets her a front-page byline in the Smallville Ledger, but best of all, when she submits it as an addendum to her application for a summer internship at the Daily Planet, she gets invited for an interview.  They even offer to schedule it during Smallville High’s upcoming Easter break, to minimize any interruption to her schooling.  As she lets out a scream of joy that has her father bolting into her room, Chloe finds herself so relieved she receives the offer in an email since she’s sure that scream would’ve had them rescind the offer had they heard it.   

Still, she doesn’t really care because, “I got an interview at the Daily Planet!”

With so much to celebrate, Chloe initially plans to make her birthday party a huge event, but her father vetoes that idea, and tries to convince her to go with a simple and small party instead, with only the friends she wants in attendance.  She argues against the plan at first, but soon comes to realize she doesn’t really want an extravagant party where everyone has to dress up and she’s forced to be nice to people she doesn’t even like, nor does she wish to be accused of copying Lana, despite feeling as though she certainly deserves it unlike someone else she can name.  So in the end, Chloe opts to go with her father’s suggestion of a simple afternoon party at home with her friends instead.   

As for Clara, she can’t help but be excited to finally be attending an actual birthday party, and this time, she promises herself that nothing will keep her away.  Unlike Lana’s, Chloe’s party is quite simple.  The Sullivans’ living room is decorated with a few colorful streamers and balloons, the music is coming from a stereo rather than a DJ, and the food is burgers and hot dogs, courtesy of the outdoor grill.  The atmosphere is relaxed, and no fancy outfits are necessary. 

Clara finds herself rather glad that the first birthday party she’s attending is this one. 

“Hey Chloe!  Congratulations and Happy Birthday!” Clara greets the blonde with a large smile, and hands over her gift, the coffee cake she’d personally made from scratch.  

“Thanks Clara!  And thank you for the cake – it looks absolutely delicious!” 

When Clara extends Lex’s apologies – he’d felt his presence at the party would be too awkward for Chloe’s father since Lex is his boss – the others learn that Chloe had actually invited Lex to thank him for being such a good sport about the whole interview.  While everyone else takes it in stride, even Mr. Sullivan, Pete’s furious, and despite Lex not actually being in attendance, storms out of the party before Chloe even gets a chance to blow out the candles on her cake. 

As Mr. Sullivan overly cheerfully begins to hand out plates in an attempt at a distraction, Clara pulls Chloe aside.  

“There’s something seriously wrong with Pete.  I know he hates the Luthors, but leaving your party early just because you’d invited Lex?”  She shakes her head. 

Chloe scowls.  “I know.  I caught him reading a book called The Nicodemus Diary a while back, and he freaked the fuck out.  I actually had to get the librarian to call Pete to return the book because they only had that one copy and it was overdue.  Anyway, it’s a first-hand account of Smallville’s first mystery way back in 1871, when apparently the whole settlement went postal before they even had a post office.” 

“Well, at least it’s nice to know Smallville was weird way before the meteors got here,” Clara says, trying to disguise the relief she feels.  Indeed, it’s beyond comforting to know that perhaps not everything strange about Smallville is because of the meteor rocks that had come down with her.   

Chloe rolls her eyes before expounding upon the diary.  “It’s not even that it chronicles a part of the early history of Smallville, though that’s certainly odd enough considering how much Pete hates history.  The diary talks about a flower the settlers called the nicodemus.  A flower, Clara!  Does that sound like something Pete would be interested in reading about?  Admittedly the effects of it were pretty strange – the priest said it liberated repressed feelings, sent them into rages, then fever, and then death.  Two hundred people of the Morley Settlement were struck by this strange contagion and died almost overnight.” 

Clara’s eyes gleam in interest.  She, unlike her friends, is fascinated by history.  “So what happened to the nicodemus?” 

“After the massacre, the cavalry torched the whole settlement.  They wanted to make sure that whatever caused it wasn’t gonna spread.  The flower’s been extinct for over a hundred years.” 

Clara’s brows furrow, but in the end, she can’t figure out why Pete would be interested in an extinct, dangerous flower either, nor can she explain his bizarre behavior.  

“I don’t know what to tell you, Chloe.”  She would never have thought he’d walk out on Chloe’s birthday party, but he did, and all because she’d invited Lex – and it isn’t like he’d actually come!   

Thankfully, Justin Gaines calls the house just then, successfully distracting Chloe from Pete bailing on her birthday party and brightening up her mood to boot.  A fellow freshman student at Smallville High and a pretty good artist - he’d even written a comic strip for The Torch called Flaming Crows Feet - he’d unfortunately gotten seriously injured following a hit-and-run several months ago.  He’s been absent from school since then as he’s recovering in Metropolis.   

“I didn’t know you kept in touch with Justin,” Clara slyly says to Chloe once the blonde gets off the phone. 

Chloe shrugs, demurring, “It’s just a few emails,” though she can’t hide the blush that suffuses her cheeks at the knowing look from Clara.  

“Maybe you should go visit him after your internship interview.” 

“Maybe.  If I have the time,” Chloe tries to say airily before determinedly looking away.  Seeing the perfect excuse to not talk in the form of a cheeseburger, she pointedly grabs it and takes a big bite. 

Clara reminds herself to return to this wellspring for teases in the future, considering it a just retribution for all of the blonde’s comments to her about Lex. 

***

Chloe is delighted with her gifts, including the one from Lana, a homemade voucher with an offer to teach her horseback riding.  To everyone’s surprise - as the blonde is not exactly athletic nor all that interested in nature and horses, after all - she accepts the offer with alacrity, and despite her still healing arm, insists they go ahead rather than wait for her cast to come off.  Lana is hesitant, but as it’s Chloe’s nondominant arm that’s in a cast and the horse she’ll be riding is calm and well behaved – and they won’t even be trotting since it’ll be her first time on a horse – she eventually agrees.  

Clara, who had also been offered riding lessons from Lana as a thank you for saving the Talon, is more than happy to make an afternoon of it.  Having always wanted to learn to ride horses, she’s delighted by the prospect, and quite eager to promote a genuine friendship between Chloe and Lana. 

And so, heavily bundled up against the cold drizzle – though in Clara’s case more for appearance’s sake than necessity – the three of them are riding the gentlest and most well behaved horses that Nell owns down a misty dirt trail in the woods. 

Unfortunately for Chloe, it doesn’t go as well as she’d hoped.

“Oh, come on!” she yells in frustration when her mare refuses to follow Lana, who’s slowly leading them.  

Lana turns around on her saddle and repeats her instruction.  “Gently squeeze her with your legs, Chloe.”

She does, and it works for a while, until the horse seemingly gets distracted by grass and shrubberies deeper in the woods and moves away from the trail.

“You know, I thought learning to drive my dad’s Volvo was difficult, but at least the car came with windshield wipers,” Chloe remarks, pushing another thin branch away from her face.

“Say ‘Whoa,’ Chloe,” Clara reminds her.  

“Whoa!”

To the blonde’s relief, her horse thankfully stops.  Lana, who had come after her, smiles at her predicament – though not unkindly – and helps lead her wandering horse back to the trail.   

“You’re doing fine for your first time, Chloe,” Lana reassures her.  She then eyes Clara, who, despite this also being her first time on a horse, has a great seat and is able to adjust her balance impressively with the horse’s gait.   

“You’re really good, Clara.  I would never have believed this is your first time riding horses if I hadn’t known better.” 

Clara, realizing this is yet another thing she’s able to easily pick up thanks to her abilities, shrugs as she tries to come up with an excuse.   

“I’ve ridden the cows around the farm until I got too heavy for them.  It’s not exactly the same thing but similar enough for this, I guess.”  

Just then, Chloe shouts “Ah!” in frustration at the way her horse has stopped once again.  When the blonde tries to get her horse to start moving, she’s led around in a circle before the horse finally follows the path the right way again. 

Biting back a smile of amusement, Clara turns to Lana.  “So how are things with Whitney?” 

Clara has been far too preoccupied with both the Talon and the farm to give much thought to anything else, but she has thankfully concluded she must’ve just misinterpreted Whitney’s gratitude.  Whitney has since greeted her and made idle chit chat whenever they’ve run across each other, but beyond stopping by her house to present them with gift cards as thanks - fishing equipment for her father and for a luxurious spa weekend in Metropolis for herself and her mother - he hasn’t purposefully sought her out or have really done anything to single her out, to her relief.   

Unfortunately, rather than gushing about finally getting to spend more time with her boyfriend, Lana sighs and a frown appears on her face.  

“I don’t know.  With his parents’ store sold and him all caught up with his schoolwork, I thought we’d get to spend more time together, you know?”  She shakes her head and confesses in a rush, “I think he’s avoiding me.” 

Before Clara can question Lana further, Chloe finally joins them and complains, “I dropped my video camera!”  

Clara moves her horse more to the left to accommodate the blonde and her mount.  “Chloe, what did you bring that thing for anyway?” 

“I’m not out here doing this butt-bashing thing for fun.  These woods are like the Bermuda Triangle of Smallville.”   

When Clara and Lana laugh, she insists, “No, I’m serious, you guys.  People come in here and when they leave, they can’t remember a thing.  There’ve been dozens of incidents in the past ten years.” 

“I’ll go get your camera,” Lana offers before expertly turning her horse around and heading back along the path. 

“Thank you!” Chloe calls out. 

“Stories in these woods go back to the Civil War,” Clara can’t help but point out. 

“No, Clara, what I’m talking about happened like a week ago.  Some surveyors from Rickman Industries came screaming out of the woods, and they can’t even remember what happened.” 

“And I’m sure you have a theory about this,” Clara says, biting back a sigh. 

“Kyle Tippet.” 

Her brows furrow.  “The guy who sells weird sculptures in town?” 

“Yeah.  Don’t you think it’s a little odd that he lives all alone way out here in the woods?” 

“Thoreau did,” Clara points out. 

“Yeah, Clara, so did the Unabomber.” 

Before she can retort that being a loner desiring privacy doesn’t make someone the Unabomber, a piercing scream echoes from behind them.   

“Lana!”  Clara hurriedly dismounts and hands the reins of her horse to Chloe.  “Stay with the horses.” 

“Okay,” Chloe readily agrees as Clara runs back down the trail.  Of course, just then her horse starts to walk forward.  “Uh, whoa.  Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Hey, easy, easy.”  

Once Clara sees that Chloe is not paying any sort of attention to her and doesn’t seem to be in any danger, she super speeds along the trail towards where Lana’s scream had come from.  She spies her on the ground, struggling to sit up as an unkempt man with dark hair holds her by the shoulders. 

“Get away from her!”  

The man jerks back and runs away as Clara rushes over to Lana.  

“You okay?” 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Looking Lana over, Clara lets out a sigh of relief on seeing that though she seems a little dazed, nothing is broken.  She carefully helps Lana get to her feet before she looks around the woods.  While there’s no sign of the man – likely Kyle Tippet – she does see Chloe’s video camera on the ground not too far away and picks it up. 

To her surprise, it’s been recording the whole time.  When Clara rewinds the footage, they see that while it hadn’t captured what had caused Lana’s horse to spook, her fall – and scream – had been.  And they see Kyle walk up to an unconscious Lana and shake her awake.   

Clara turns the video camera off and puts it into her pocket.   “Come on, Lana, let’s get you to the hospital.” 

*** 

As soon as Clara returns with Lana, Chloe demands Clara help her get off the horse, then sighs with exaggerated relief once her feet are firmly back on solid ground again.  Since there’s no signal out in the woods, Clara leaves Lana in Chloe’s care as she takes the blonde’s cell phone with her to call for an ambulance.  She then calls Nell, fortunately getting the answering machine instead, allowing her to easily and quickly relay the relevant information and get off the phone.

By the time Clara returns, they hear the approaching sirens signalling the ambulance’s imminent arrival.  

“We’ll take the horses back to the stable,” she offers, and Lana gratefully accepts.

“Thank you, Clara.”

Chloe looks at the horses, and not wanting to suffer through the frustration of riding back to Nell’s - or the long walk home - she instead decides to accompany Lana instead.

“Actually, Clara, think you can get the horses back on your own?  I need to get a check-up at the hospital anyway…” 

Clara’s lips twitch, but she readily nods.  Given that these horses are trained to follow Lana’s mount and make the same treks often, she doubts it’ll be all that difficult to get them to return to Nell’s.  “Of course.”  

Walking Lana’s horse over to a tall boulder so she can get on, she then accepts the reins of the other two horses from Chloe and waits until the ambulance leaves with her two friends safely within, before making her way back to the stable.  Clara contemplates letting the horses have free reign so they can sprint back, but not wanting to borrow trouble, she instead just continues the slow pace. 

By the time Clara has the horses locked back up in their stalls and returns home, the sun has set and Martha is getting off the phone with Nell.  

“Okay.  Thanks.  Bye.” 

“How’s Lana?” she asks when Martha hangs up the phone.  

“She has a mild concussion.  Other than that, she’s fine.  She’s actually already been discharged home.” 

Clara nods, relieved, even as Jonathan picks up on the odd note in Martha’s voice.

“And Nell?” he asks. 

Martha shoots him a knowing look.  “That’s a different story.  She wants Clara to go to the police and say that she saw Kyle spook Lana’s horse and attack her.” 

“That’s not what I saw,” Clara protests.  “I don’t know what happened, but on the video it didn’t look like he was trying to hurt her.” 

“Video?” she asks.

Clara nods.  “Chloe brought a video camera along and was recording the woods around us.  It didn’t capture everything that happened, but from what we saw, it looked like Kyle was just trying to help her.”

“From Nell’s tone, even with that as evidence I don’t think we’ve heard the end of this.” 

“Did Kyle seem at all dangerous to you?” Jonathan asks. 

She shakes her head.  “If anything, he seemed more freaked out than anything else.  You know, Chloe mentioned that some surveyors were spooked last week in the woods, and now us.  I wonder if there’s a connection?” 

Martha suggests, “Jonathan, you should go talk to Kyle, get this cleared up.  You know Nell will listen to you.” 

“Yup.”  

But when he stands, Clara gets up as well.  “No, I’ll go.” 

“Clara, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he protests. 

“It’s not like he can hurt me,” she points out. 

“That is not the point.” 

“Dad, I understand what it’s like to be… hidden from the world.  Let me give it a shot.” 

Jonathan shakes his head.  “I know you mean well, honey, but it’s late and you’re a teenage girl and Kyle’s got an odd reputation, to say the least.  You might be fine but everyone else would consider it highly irresponsible of your mother and I if we were okay with that.”  

Clara acquiesces with ill grace.  “Don’t forget to follow the trail of bad sculptures,” she reminds him. 

*** 

Lex greets the news that Rickman Industries is looking to build a plant in Smallville rather poorly.  Normally he wouldn’t care, but as he’s not only living here but has several valuable investments, he fully plans to protect his interests from the cesspit that is Rickman Industries.  The denizens of Smallville may think LuthorCorp is terrible for their town, but they’re positively a champion of the environment in comparison to Rickman Industries, who leave wreckage of towns where their plants used to be.

Thankfully, the Ledger has been spreading word of Rickman Industries’ abysmal track record in the towns the company has left behind, that Smallville denizens greet their arrival with frosty silence, making it clear they’re not welcome.  Despite the poor reception, however, Rickman has nevertheless opened a temporary office on Main Street, and has sent invitations to everyone in town, hoping that free food and booze will help draw them in.  Normally Lex wouldn’t even deign to appear, but as he has a vested interest in ensuring Rickman fails in his efforts, he reluctantly makes his way inside. 

The temporary office is decorated with balloons and a wall of framed posters of plants and flowers with Rickman Industries logo.  Lex stares at a giant poster of sunflowers with a sort of horrified fascination before shaking his head and walking over to the model of the proposed plant that is set up in the center of the room.   

Spying Rickman approaching him, Lex says, making no effort to modulate his voice, “It’s funny, I was just saying what this town needs is more pesticides in the water supply.” 

“Oh now, don’t tell me you mind someone else sharing your little sandbox,” Rickman says with a friendly smile. 

“Only when they’re polluting it.  Hello, Bob.” 

Rickman chuckles.  “Lex.”  He extends his hand but Lex smoothly turns and picks up a glass of sparkling wine from a server rather than shaking it. 

“Photos are a bit over-the-top,” he says as he turns back around, “but I like what you’ve done with the place.” 

Rickman doesn’t look bothered by the clear sarcasm.  “Oh it’s only temporary,” he says, before pulling out a button from his pocket.  “Here, have a button.” 

Lex reluctantly takes it and looks at the Rickman Industries logo printed on its face.  

“Pass out enough of these and maybe they won’t notice you’re rendering the town uninhabitable.” 

Rickman doesn’t look troubled by the accusation.  “I’m just like you, Lex,” he says, seemingly sincerely.  “Government employees set my emission levels and I abide.  You have an objection?” 

“Let’s call it an interest.  Smallville’s my home now, after all.” 

“That’s right,” he says, feigning surprise.  “Yes, Lionel mentioned he’d exiled you here.  Had dinner with him a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Yeah?  What happened, somebody more important cancel on him?” 

Rickman gives a small chuckle.  He pats Lex on the arm, ignoring the frosty glare that he shoots him at the unwanted contact.   

“Don’t worry, Lex, I’ll keep my concerns away from the Luthors.”  He looks fondly down at the model.  “Already found the perfect place for the plant.  It’s out of the way and just near enough to the river.” 

Lex looks at the geological map and recognizes it instantly.  

“The Kent Farm?”  He makes a noise of incredulous amusement.  “I assume you haven’t approached them yet.” 

Rickman shrugs.  “Well that’s just a formality.” 

“The way licenses and zoning permits always seem to be a formality for you, Bob.” 

Rickman raises his hands as if to say, what can he do? 

“I know the Kents.  And not even you could convince them to sell their farm.”  Shooting him a smug smile, Lex turns to leave.   

“You’d be surprised.” 

Lex stops and turns back.  “Trust me, Bob.  You’re not that charming.”  He flicks the button back at Rickman and leaves. 

*** 

Despite the buzz around town about Rickman Industries, in the Ross household, the topic of conversation is still focused on Lex Luthor and his purchase of the Talon and Fordman’s.  Neither Pete nor his father Bill are happy Lex Luthor is seemingly taking over their town, and his father once more begins his familiar rant about the Luthors.  

It makes sense, Bill grudgingly admits, for George Fordman to sell his store given his fragile health, but he rails about what a terrible idea it is for Jonathan Kent to get involved with the Luthors considering what they have done to them.  He in fact lays blame for the deal solely at the feet of Martha Kent, whom he calls “Jonathan’s city wife.”   

Pete thinks it’s actually Clara’s fault, but his father waves that away, muttering about teenage girls and crushes and not knowing any better.  Pete isn’t sure how true that is, but he’s forced to admit that it’s unlikely the Kents got into bed with Lex Luthor of all people simply because their daughter had insisted upon it.   

His mother, Abigail, who usually just sighs with exasperation upon hearing the familiar hostile tirades from them before swiftly changing the subject, doesn’t this time.  In fact, she opens her mouth to nearly say something, before shaking her head and walking away.  His father doesn’t notice, too busy cracking open another can of beer.   

Ignoring the odd churning in his gut, Pete heads upstairs.  However, he can’t ignore the rumble of his parents arguing later that night – though he can’t make out any of their words through the thick walls – nor the uneasy silence that hangs about heavily the next morning.   

Feeling the familiar burn of fear, frustration, and anger thrumming through his veins, Pete hurries out of the house.  His intention is to just drive around town aimlessly, but when he sees the time on the clock, he decides to head towards Hamilton’s barn instead.  As Hamilton is a night owl he’s rarely up before 10 am, so as long as Pete is careful and quiet, he should have plenty of time to thoroughly search the place.  Given everything he’s been through, he needs to know that Hamilton is making progress on something else besides bringing dangerous flowers back from extinction.

He parks a good distance away to avoid waking Hamilton, and then carefully makes his way inside the barn lab.  He’s forced to turn the light on to be able to see, but since it’s broad daylight, he doubts it’ll be all that noticeable from the outside.  Unfortunately, although Pete is easily able to go through all the papers without interruption, he sees that they’re all about the nicodemus.  Why Hamilton is so concerned with flowers that had been destroyed so long ago for a perfectly good reason, Pete doesn’t understand, and in his frustration and anger, he decides to kill them all in hopes that that’ll make Hamilton redirect his focus to actually coming up with a way to render the meteor rocks harmless, as he’d promised.

Heading straight for the glass cases that house the flowers, he carefully examines them as he has no intention of being exposed to the nicodemus and die as a result.  It looks like the cases have an airtight seal, with water and air being introduced via special connecting tubes.  However, he doesn’t doubt Hamilton will likely notice the disconnection long before it’ll kill the flowers, which means he’ll have to take a more direct action.  

Since he doesn’t want to start a fire in the barn and accidentally destroy expensive research equipment, Pete decides to take the flowers to Crater Lake instead.  If he can’t burn them there, then he’ll just drown them all in the water.  He unhooks one of the glass cases but it’s heavy - too heavy, in fact, for him to carry it all the way over to where he’s parked his car, especially when he has to do it more than once.  He’ll have to take breaks, which means putting the glass case down on the ground, which could result in it cracking and him being exposed to the flower – and he recalls the priest had written something about sneezes, which probably means whatever causes the infection is likely spread by inhalation, and it’s not like he has an oxygen mask handy. 

Pete hesitates, unsure of what to do.  He lifts up the glass case again, just to check to see if he really can’t carry it that far, when he suddenly hears Hamilton snap from behind him, “What do you think you’re doing in my lab?”    

Completely startled, Pete tries to both put the case down and turn to look behind him at Hamilton.  Unfortunately, that only causes him to drop the heavy glass case instead, causing it to shatter beneath their feet and revealing the nicodemus in all its glory. 

Pete jumps back instinctively, trying to avoid the glass shards.  “I am so sorry!  I didn’t mean to-” 

He trails off when he sees that Hamilton is staring at the flower with an odd expression on his face.  Then, as though the flower has entranced him, he starts to move closer, until his face is only inches away from its petals. 

Before Pete can gather his wits together to warn him or maybe even force him away from the flower, it sprays Hamilton with what looks like pollen, causing him to sneeze.  And then it’s as though some kind of a switch has been flipped in Hamilton’s brain.  When he stands back up, the look of rage on his face has Pete hurriedly backing away from him. 

“You’re here to steal my research, aren’t you?  Did Lex send you?  What, you think because I’m just a sideshow freak, a quack scientist who sells meteor rocks by the side of the road, that I’m an easy target?” Hamilton snarls before rushing over to Pete and bodily slamming into him. 

Although Pete is on the football team and has gotten plenty of experience being tackled, usually it’s while he’s wearing protective equipment and there’s someone there to blow the whistle to end the skirmish.  Plus, most of the players take it easy on him since it’s clear he’ll never actually play in a single game.  Here, however, Hamilton is clearly not playing around, and he has both height and weight on Pete.  As he slams into him, Pete falls and smacks his head against the unforgiving ground.  Dazed, he’s unable to resist as Hamilton begins to drag him across the floor, and it’s only when he sees the nicodemus nearing him that he starts to try and get away. 

“Let me go!” 

“Hold still!” Hamilton snarls.  “How better to find out the actual effects of these flowers than to conduct human testing?” 

“You’ve already been exposed!”  

He snorts.  “Don’t be ridiculous!  I take careful precautions when working with these flowers.  No way was I exposed to them.”  

Pete gawks at him, but it’s clear Hamilton doesn’t recall being sprayed with the pollen.  Indeed, it’s as if he can’t even tell that there’s a nicodemus on the ground, since the man is forcing him towards the still intact cases. 

Pete struggles in earnest, uncaring about any dizziness he experiences.  In his efforts to escape, his hand grasps something hefty and he brings it down repeatedly onto whatever part of Hamilton he can reach, until he’s at last freed.  Seeing him bent over, he then hits the older man on the head in hopes of knocking him out. 

It works, but unfortunately Hamilton’s body falls backwards onto the glass cases with the flowers, sending them all crashing to the ground.  

Pete recoils in horror and attempts to get away, but his foot slips on the shards of glass he’d broken and he’s sent sprawling.  Although he manages to break the fall with his hands, his head still spins as though he has actually smashed it again.  Unable to even attempt to get up due to his dizziness and blurry vision, Pete simply tries to relax and just breathe and keep himself as still as possible.  

His last thought before he joins Hamilton into unconsciousness is how he really should’ve known better. 

*** 

Pete isn’t sure how long he’s been out when he finally regains consciousness.  When he opens his eyes, he groans as the overhead lights only make his throbbing headache worse.  He rolls onto his side, not realizing that the flower he'd dropped is right in front of him.  When he opens his eyes again, he gets a face full of pollen, and he sneezes.  By the time he manages to stand, however, he’s forgotten all about the nicodemus that had sprayed him, and his attention is solely focused on Hamilton, who he sees is slumped over the flowers and bleeding from where the glass shards have pierced him.    

“You son of a bitch!  You tried to get me infected!” he screams as he repeatedly kicks the fallen man, who only twitches weakly with every hit. 

Spitting on his face in disgust, Pete gingerly rubs the back of his head as he makes his way to his car and heads home, eager to take some Tylenol and get some sleep to hopefully alleviate his headache. 

He doesn’t call 911 for Hamilton, instead leaving him there, considering it a just retribution for what he’d tried to do to him. 

By the time Pete wakes up from his nap, it’s late afternoon and his headache has subsided.  As he stretches, he’s struck by a brilliant idea. 

He’ll steal the nicodemus and expose Lex Luthor to it. 

The man will likely spare no expense to create a cure once he learns what the flower does, which will spur Hamilton to actually come up with a way to render the meteor rocks harmless in a bid to be the one to arrive at a result first.  In the meantime, Luthor’s “basest instincts” will be revealed for all the residents of Smallville to see, preventing them from getting into business with him, and if they already are in bed with him, then his death will save them from ruin.  Pete will be a hero, not just to his family but to the whole town.   

And most importantly, the meteor rocks that had caused Jodi’s death will finally be neutralized. 

His reckless driving – cutting off other cars and even swerving into oncoming traffic – earns him honks and yells from the other drivers on the road, but he doesn’t care, focused as he is on speedily reaching Hamilton’s place.  

This time, he parks his car right outside the barn doors.  He sees Hamilton, passed out not too far away from him.  It’s clear by the trail of blood that he’s managed to drag himself out of the barn in an attempt to call for help, only to fall unconscious, likely due to his injuries.  Not giving Hamilton a second glance, Pete instead wraps a sweater around the lower half of his face and enters the makeshift lab.  Unflinchingly, he grabs a nicodemus and carries it to the passenger seat of his car.  Closing the door, he contemplates just leaving, but in the end, he returns to the barn.

“Can’t have everyone else getting infected, right, Hamilton?” Pete says as he grabs the bottles of alcohol Hamilton uses to clean his lab equipment.  He then pours them all over the flowers before setting them on fire. 

Grinning at the inferno he’s created, Pete hurries back outside and gets into his car and drives away.

He doesn’t bother to ensure that the fire doesn’t spread. 

Unfortunately for Jonathan, he’s leisurely driving back from running an errand in Granville along a road that Pete needs to take to get to the Luthor Mansion from Hamilton’s barn.  He’s listening to the radio and singing along when a car behind him starts honking and flashing its lights. 

“What’s your hurry, pal?” Jonathan mutters, and pointedly doesn’t pull over to the side of the road to let the car pass.

Ripping the sweater off his face, Pete yells, “Come on!” as he leans on the horn before tailgating the truck in front of him.  “Move out of the way!” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Hey!” Jonathan exclaims, eyes wide with alarm as the car rams into the back of his truck.  Before he can recover, the car behind him has swerved out into the oncoming lane, only to then purposefully knock into the side of his truck, almost sending him off the road and into the woods.  

“Get out of my way!” 

“Pete?” Jonathan asks, startled as he sees just who is behind the wheel of the other car.  

To Jonathan’s horror, Pete’s erratic driving and reckless speed causes him to drive into some shrubbery, behind which is an incline that Pete doesn’t see, causing the car to fly an impressive distance in the air before crashing onto the side of the road, flipping over a few times before finally coming to a stop upside down.  

“Whoa!”  Jonathan slams the brake and hurriedly gets out as soon as the truck comes to a stop.  “Pete!  Pete!  Are you alright?” 

When Jonathan kneels on the ground and peers inside the car, he can see that Pete’s unconscious.  Seeing the smoke rising from the car, he hurriedly pulls him out – frowning at the fact that he isn’t wearing his seat belt – and winces when he sees the head injury.  Jonathan knows he should be careful in case Pete has also suffered spinal injuries, but he doesn’t have any time to waste so he just hoists Pete over his shoulders and carries him to safety.   

When he thinks he’s gone far enough, Jonathan gently lowers Pete down on the ground.  And just in time too as the car then explodes from behind them. 

Having draped himself over Pete’s unconscious body to protect him from any debris, Jonathan gets back up when he deems it safe enough to do so.  After checking on the burning wreck of a car to make sure they’re safe for now, he turns back to Pete and carefully cups his face in his hands before lightly tapping his cheek, hoping to get some kind of a response from him.  

“Alright.  Come on now.  Can you hear me, Pete?  Are you okay?  Pete?” 

There’s no response from Pete, but Jonathan startles when he sees a flower arising from the ground next to them.  As he stares, entranced, its petals open and sprays a burst of pollen into his face.  Jonathan sneezes, before looking back at Pete. 

“We gotta get you to the hospital.” 

As Jonathan once again lifts Pete and carries him over to his truck, the flower lays back down, hiding itself from view. 

*** 

Having spent most of the afternoon finalizing the plans for the Talon renovations - as Nell has decided to move her flower shop and take advantage of being near a parking garage instead, they’ll be converting the flower shop rather than the basement into a kitchen and an office - Lex and Martha decide to call it a day.  Before he leaves, however, Lex asks, “Listen, Clara, Mrs. Kent, has Bob Rickman been by the farm?” 

Martha shakes her head.  “Why would he be interested in us?” 

“He’s interested in buying your land.” 

A snort escapes Clara before she can stop it.  “You have met my dad.  Why are you even worried?” 

Lex doesn’t relax at their show of unconcern.  “I’ve seen Rickman talk people out of house and home.  He’s a locust, Clara.  He tears through communities and betrays anyone who trusts him.  Tell your dad to be careful.” 

The phone rings just then, and as Martha goes to answer it, seeing that Lex is genuinely worried, Clara gives him a solemn nod. 

“Okay, I will.” 

“Pete’s in the hospital!” Martha suddenly exclaims.  

“What?” Clara asks, horrified.  “What happened?” 

The caller - who turns out to be Nell - relays what she knows, which isn’t much as she’s only just learned of it herself.  Apparently Pete had been driving recklessly and had flipped his car, and Jonathan had thankfully managed to save him before his car had gotten blown up.  They’ve only just hung up when the man himself enters through the kitchen door.   

“Dad!” 

“Jonathan!”  

Martha hurries over to make sure he’s alright, only to find herself pulled in and kissed like they’re all alone and don’t have Clara and Lex as an audience.  Despite herself, Martha can’t help but melt into him as he practically devours her. 

“Glad as I am that you’re okay, I don’t need to see this!”  Cringing exaggeratedly, Clara pointedly turns her back on them. 

Martha pulls away and Jonathan smirks at Clara.  “Just getting the old hero’s welcome, sweetheart.  You know what I mean?”  

And then, to Clara’s genuine horror, he slaps Martha’s ass. 

“OH!” Martha yelps, before turning red in embarrassment. 

Lex politely looks away, pretending he hasn’t seen anything, and Martha hurries out of Jonathan’s reach. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

Jonathan doesn’t answer.  Instead, he leisurely strolls over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of beer.  “Hey Clara, basketball game on TV.  You wanna watch it with me?” 

She looks at him in confusion.  “Don’t you have work to do?” 

“Nah, chores can wait.  Besides-” he puts the bottle against the edge of the table and uses it to pop the cap off.  As the foam gushes from the top, flowing over his hand and down the bottle, he exclaims, “Whoa!” before sucking down the beer head.  “-I earned a rest.  You can pick up the slack for me, can’tcha?“ 

As Martha shares an alarmed look with Clara, trying her best to not glance over at Lex to see if he suspects anything, Jonathan wipes the sides of the bottle on the curtain above the sink.   

“Jonathan!” she instinctively scolds and throws him a towel. 

“It’s good to see this whole hero thing didn’t go to your head,” Clara remarks. 

“I should go,” Lex says.  “I’m glad to see you’re alright, Mr. Kent.” 

Jonathan scoffs.  “I highly doubt that.” 

“Jonathan, that’s enough,” Martha says firmly. 

He tosses the towel back in her direction without looking away from Lex.  “No, it’s not enough, Martha.  You see, I don’t like Lex Luthor.  I don’t like Lionel Luthor.  And I don’t like your friendship with my daughter and my wife.  In fact, if all you fucking Luthors were to dry up and die, I wouldn’t shed a tear.” 

“Dad!  That’s enough!” Clara exclaims as she moves closer to Lex as though to shield him from her father.  

Jonathan’s response to that is to belch loudly in Lex’s face.  To Lex’s credit, he just turns his face away from him rather than retaliating, although the tightness around his eyes and lips give away his anger. 

“I think I’ll take a nap,” Jonathan then says carelessly, turning his back on Lex and Clara without a word of apology.  As he heads for the stairs, he leans towards Martha and says lustily, “Hubba hubba.” 

Martha twists the towel in her hands in agitation and her eyes follow Jonathan’s retreating back.  There’s something clearly wrong with him - this isn’t at all like Jonathan.  She both needs and wants to follow after him, but her sense of responsibility has her turning back to Lex.  

Shooting him an apologetic look, she says, “Lex, I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what’s gotten into Jonathan, this isn’t at all like him.”  

Martha knows the apology really should be coming from Jonathan.  Unfortunately, she can tell there’s no way she’ll be able to get her husband to apologize, at least not when he’s acting like this.  Still, she has to try and get him to smooth things over with Lex.  Even if she isn’t currently employed by Lex, Jonathan’s behavior would be absolutely unacceptable; with that tie, it makes his behavior all the worse.  And so she gives Clara an imploring glance before hurrying upstairs in hopes of getting Jonathan to come back downstairs and tender a sufficiently sincere apology to Lex.  

“I’m so sorry,” Clara finally says once she gets over her shock.  

Lex shakes his head and forces a smile onto his face.  “It’s alright,” he tells her, although it’s clear it’s not at all alright.  Clearly seeing her distress, he gives her arm a comforting squeeze.  “Don’t worry about it, Clara.  I’ll see you later.” 

Clara wants to protest, and maybe even get him to stay to hear an apology, but given the argument that’s happening upstairs, she knows that’s not likely to happen, at least not now.  She instead watches him drive off before deciding she’s far too upset with her father to remain in the house.  When her loft proves to be of insufficient distance from him, she decides to take the opportunity to go visit Pete.  

She ends up arriving just a few minutes after Judge Ross, and seeing her sitting at her son’s bedside, tightly holding onto his limp hand, she decides to leave them be and instead heads over to the Beanery.  The first people she spots on entering the cafe are Lana and Whitney sitting cozily at a small table closest to the door.  Not wanting to intrude on the couple’s time, especially considering Lana’s professed fears that Whitney is avoiding her, she’s about to backtrack and leave them alone when Whitney sees her and waves her over.    

“Hey guys,” she greets, before turning to Lana.  “How’re you feeling?”  

“Better.  Thanks.”  She pauses before saying, “Nell said you weren’t going to talk to the police.” 

Clara shakes her head.  “Kyle said-” 

Whitney’s eyes widen in concern.  “Please tell me you didn’t go and talk to that psycho?”  

She frowns at the label and pointedly remarks, “Kyle’s not a psycho.  And no, my dad’s the one who spoke to him.  Kyle told him that he saw you being thrown from your horse and was just trying to make sure you were okay.  And the video recording doesn’t show him doing anything besides exactly what he said.” 

“And your dad believes him?” Whitney asks. 

“Yeah.” 

He nods, accepting that, and Lana doesn’t protest. 

“Do you remember anything?” Clara asks her. 

“Not really,” she admits, and it’s clear she’s bothered by the loss of her memory.  When Whitney puts his hand over hers, she smiles at him before turning to Clara and changing the subject.  “And I heard about Pete.  I can’t believe he was driving so recklessly, that’s so unlike him.  Do you know what happened?” 

Clara shakes her head.  “He’s been acting strange lately, but this seems so out of left field for him.” 

“We’re going to go over to the hospital in a minute if you want to come with us,” Whitney offers. 

“I’d wait,” she advises.  “Judge Ross is with him now.”

At their nod, she adds, “I’ve gotta get going.  I’m glad you’re okay, Lana.”   And with a quick smile, Clara leaves the couple to it. 

*** 

Unfortunately, despite his 3-hour nap, Jonathan’s behavior doesn’t improve any.  Having slept through dinner, he takes the leftovers with him to the couch in front of the television despite Martha’s protests, and spends the time before going to bed in front of the screen, watching whatever game or show catches his eye and drinking beer.  Clara’s eyes narrow in anger, but Martha manages to get her to refrain from speaking to him, hoping that he’ll return to himself the next day, or at least be in a better frame of mind to listen.

Except Jonathan gets up incredibly late the next morning, long after Clara has already finished her chores and eaten.  But rather than doing work, he parks himself back in front of the television again.  The only other thing he seems to be interested in is Martha, or rather, getting her upstairs and into their bed.  Disgusted, Clara heads over to Chloe’s instead, hoping her mother will be able to knock some sense into him.  

It’s clear Mr. Sullivan and Chloe are surprised to see Clara, but he readily extends an invitation for her to stay for lunch.   

“I know this isn’t quite what you’re used to,” Gabe apologizes, but Clara quickly shakes her head and eagerly swallows the bite of the taco she’d just taken. 

“No, it’s great!” she reassures him. 

After, Clara and Chloe head upstairs to her bedroom where Clara finally vents about what had brought her over.  Chloe nearly snorts when she finishes. 

“Wow.  Drinking beer, mouthing off, and macking with your mom?  Congratulations, Clara, your dad’s regressed back to being a teenager.” 

Clara tightens her grip on the mug of package hot chocolate Gabe had given them before forcibly relaxing her fingers so she won’t shatter it into pieces.  “I know he’s not a fan of my mom’s new job, but I’m seriously wondering if he’s beginning to crack.  I mean, who takes a 3-hour nap in the evening?” 

Chloe shrugs.   

Sighing, she changes the subject.  “Any word on Pete?” 

“No, he still hasn’t woken up.  I can’t believe he was driving so recklessly.  And combined with how he’s been acting, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s been replaced with a pod person.” 

Clara purses her lips.  “Maybe he’ll be awake when we head over to the hospital and we can figure out what’s been going on with him.” 

Chloe sighs.  “We can only hope.” 

*** 

When Jonathan comes down the stairs whistling cheerfully after taking yet another nap, he finds Martha in the kitchen.  Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he whispers into her ear, “What do you say you and I go up to the hayloft and have us a little fun, huh?” as he runs his hand down her back before fondling her butt. 

Martha chuckles a little awkwardly as she pulls away.  Much as she enjoys his attentions, his new attitude is worrying.  

“Not now.  Somebody’s gotta do some work around here.  Um, maybe you would like to call Lex and apologize,” she pointedly reminds him. 

He frowns.  “Why?  All I did was tell him the truth.” 

Martha stifles an urge to facepalm.  She takes a deep breath and says in as patient and non-judgemental a tone as she can manage, “I know I said you should let your feelings out, but you’re taking this too far.  What’s wrong with you?” 

Jonathan tangles his fingers with hers before bringing her hand up to his lips for a kiss.  “Nothing.  I feel free.” 

She carefully looks at him at that.  Despite his protest otherwise, he looks flushed and sweaty.  

“You don’t look well.”  Martha touches his face, and is rather relieved by the heat she feels, since it provides some kind of an explanation for his behavior.  “You’re burning up!  Why don’t you go back to bed?  I’ll make you some soup when I get back.” 

“Hey!”  He grabs Martha around the waist and pulls her closer.  “I know a much better way to break a fever.” 

Martha leans away until she frees herself from his arms.  “Sweetheart, I-I-I have to go, really.” 

Before Jonathan can do anything else to try and get her to stay home with him, she hurriedly leaves the house.  

She can’t help but throw puzzling glances at him all the while. 

*** 

Although disappointed Martha has turned down the opportunity to spend several more pleasurable hours together, Jonathan soon reconciles himself to enjoying some time alone.  He’s kicking back on the couch with a bottle of beer when a knock is heard.  He contemplates just ignoring it, but eventually sighs and gets up when the knock comes again along with a call of “Mr. Kent?”   

Seeing a man dressed in a suit with fancy shoes, Jonathan barks out none too politely, “Who the hell are you?”  

The man extends his hand.  “Bob Rickman, of Rickman Industries.” 

Jonathan scoffs and pointedly ignores the outstretched hand.  “I know who you are.” 

Rickman lets his hand fall back to his side.  “Well, then you probably know why I’m here.” 

Jonathan leans against the doorjamb.  “Yeah, I heard you’re interested in this farm, and you have a reputation as a very persuasive fella.  But I gotta tell ya, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’d consider selling, especially not to Rickman Industries.” 

It’s not the first time Rickman’s heard such claims.  He smiles charmingly.  “You got a problem with progress, Mr. Kent?” 

“No, I’m just sick of rich assholes like you coming into my home and telling me what they can do for me with their money.  So why don’t you get the fuck off my land before I get my shotgun?” 

Rickman looks taken aback.  He quickly recovers, however.  

“Well then, I won’t bother you any longer.  It was nice to meet you, Mr. Kent.”   

When he extends his hand again, Jonathan rolls his eyes but accepts the handshake this time, intent on teaching the bastard a lesson and crush his city-boy hand with his grip.   

Before Jonathan can do so, Rickman puts his other hand on top, clasping his hand in between, and a green glow emanates from his hands.  Rickman watches with satisfaction as Jonathan’s eyes flash green and his face goes slack.  

“Now, are you sure I can’t convince you to change your mind?” 

*** 

Unfortunately, while Pete has been more or less stabilized, he’s still in critical condition and unconscious.  And with the uncomfortable atmosphere between Mr. and Judge Ross hanging so thickly in his room that Clara finally sees a demonstration of the idiom about tension being thick enough to be able to cut with a knife, she and Chloe soon make their excuses and escape.    

When Clara returns home, however, it’s not any less tense than it had been in Pete’s hospital room.  Jonathan is sitting on a stool staring at a contract bearing his and Rickman’s signature in confusion and mounting fury, while Martha paces and says angrily, “How could you do this without telling me?  What happened to ‘This land is our legacy?’” 

“What’s going on?” Clara warily asks. 

“Your father sold the farm to Bob Rickman.” 

Her jaw drops open.  “What?!  How?” 

He doesn’t look happy.  “One minute I’m telling him to get the fuck off my land and the next thing I know is I’ve got a signed contract in my hand.  That fucking bastard must’ve done something to me!” 

“Jonathan!” 

He pointedly ignores Martha’s scandalized reaction at his language and storms off. 

“I called our lawyer,” she tells Clara with an exhausted sigh.  “He said he can’t do anything until he sees the contract, but ‘the devil made me do it’ argument won’t hold up in court.” 

“What did Rickman do?” Clara asks. 

“Apparently nothing, according to your father.  They even shook hands.” 

“It can’t have been that easy,” she protests, before subsiding, realizing there’s nothing they’ll gain by rehashing the whole situation now.  She picks up the contract.  “Let me get this over to Lex-” 

“I will not owe another rich bastard anything!” comes Jonathan’s angry growl. 

“Right now, you don’t have anything to owe-” Martha falters on seeing the shotgun in Jonathan’s hands.  She warily steps back.  “Jonathan, what are you doing?” 

“I have done nothing but give back to this community, and all anyone has ever done for me is screw me over.  Well, this time they’ve pushed me too far and I’m pushing back.  I’m gonna go see Rickman and see whether he has a pair or whether they’re kept them in a drawer somewhere!” 

“Not with a shotgun, dad,” Clara says, putting her hands on his chest and carefully pushing him back even as she maneuvers herself so that she blocks the door.  “Dad, you gotta slow down, you’re not thinking straight!” 

“I’m thinking just fine!” he snaps and cocks the shotgun.  “Now get out of my way!” 

Seeing that he’s not about to back down, Clara grabs the barrel of the gun.  Jonathan tries to tug it free, only for his index finger to slip, causing the shotgun to fire directly at Clara’s chest. 

Martha screams.  “Clara!”   

She frantically shoves Jonathan, forcing him to stumble back and away from Clara.  There are holes in Clara’s sweatshirt and Martha urgently pulls the zipper down before raising up the t-shirt underneath.  To her relief, Clara’s skin is intact, though the spots where the bullet fragments had hit are red and will no doubt turn into spectacular bruises. 

“Oh, sweetheart!” she gasps out in relief and desperately holds her in a tight embrace. 

Clara winces, and Martha hurriedly apologizes and pulls back a little, though she keeps her arms around her. 

“Clara…”  

Hearing the genuine shock and remorse in Jonathan’s voice, Martha turns back to look at her husband only to see him pass out and collapse onto the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. 

“Dad!” 

“Jonathan!” 

*** 

Clara fidgets with the drawstring of her hoodie – her mother had made sure she’d gotten changed before the ambulance arrived at the farm – as they await word from the doctors about her father.  It’d been one thing to have a knife shatter against her skin; it’s an entirely different matter being bulletproof.  Clara had known that she’s generally indestructible since she’d managed to survive being hit by a car with nary a bruise to show for it, but given Cassandra’s vision, the implications of being bulletproof are clear, and for the first time in months, Clara can’t help but picture that endless graveyard again. 

She forces herself to breathe calmly and lectures herself that this isn’t the time to focus on her.  There is something seriously wrong with her father and her mother clearly needs her.  Indeed, Martha is so still next to her that Clara thinks a single touch may cause her to shatter. 

Just as she opens her mouth to try and reassure her somehow, Dr. Harden approaches them. 

“His symptoms indicate a severe anaphylactic shock,” she explains after assuring them that Jonathan has been more or less stabilized.  “But we can’t detect any known antigens.” 

“What is it, then?” Martha asks. 

“The truth is, if he’d come in just yesterday, I’d say I’d never seen anything like it.  But Pete Ross is showing identical symptoms, along with another patient.  They’re all clearly linked somehow, though we aren’t sure how yet.  Do you by any chance know if Jonathan has had any contact with Steven Hamilton?” 

“Hamilton?” Clara says, clearly taken aback.  “No, I can’t imagine why my dad would have, or Pete for that matter.  What happened to him?  Is he okay?” 

Dr. Harden looks at them sympathetically.  “I’m afraid not.  He’s in a coma.” 

Clara hugs Martha as she lets out a sob. 

*** 

To Clara and Martha’s immense gratitude, Lex soon has the best doctors from Metropolis flown down to Smallville to take over Jonathan’s – and Pete’s and Hamilton’s, by association – care.  Martha is of course staying overnight at the hospital, but she insists Lex take Clara home. 

“We’re on break, mom, I don’t have school,” Clara insists, to no avail. 

“Come on, Clara,” Lex gently coaxes.  “There’s nothing you can do for your father here.  Let the professionals take care of him.” 

She opens her mouth to protest, but seeing the exhaustion and worry on her mother’s face, she quietly acquiesces, unwilling to cause any additional trouble for her mother. 

Still, determined to be helpful in any way she can – and to distract herself – Clara hands over the contract with Rickman Industries her father had signed to Lex, to see if there is any way to invalidate it, perhaps on the grounds that the person who signed it had been medically compromised. 

“I’ll get it to my lawyers,” Lex promises.   

Once he leaves, Clara zips through both her chores and her parents’, before finding herself too restless to remain within the house, especially when all she can picture – and feel – is being shot by her father.  She is heading towards the loft to escape the kitchen when Mr. Sullivan’s car speeds down the road towards her and Chloe jumps out before the car comes to a complete stop. 

“Clara!  Remember what I said about the nicodemus?” 

Clara frowns.  “Yeah…” 

“The effects listed in that diary mirror what both your father and Pete are going through.  The liberation of repressed feelings, induced rage, and, well, you know,” Chloe fumbles. 

“You also said the flower was extinct.” 

“But then you mentioned that Hamilton is the other person who’s been hospitalized.  We’ve messaged each other a few times about our respective meteor rock theories, and so I’ve done some research into him.  He has a serious meteor fixation and this is a paper he wrote six years ago.” 

Clara reaches for it.  “Metropolis University Press?” 

“He used to be a professor at Met U.  That doesn’t matter – the important thing is, in his paper, he postulates that meteor rocks can be used to irradiate dormant plant cells.” 

Her head snaps up.  “You think Hamilton pulled a Jurassic Park and brought back the nicodemus.” 

Chloe nods.  “I’m not sure how exactly Pete got involved in this, but that flower is what’s making them sick.  If we can get ahold of it…” 

Clara hurries towards Mr. Sullivan’s car.  “Let’s go.” 

***   

To their surprise and horror, when they arrive at Hamilton’s place, all that remains of the barn is a burnt-out husk.  Apparently a fire had broken out in his barn, and by the time someone had noticed and called 911, although Hamilton had been rescued, everything else had gone up in flames. 

“Hang on,” Chloe says.  “There may be somewhere else we can check  Your father started acting odd after he rescued Pete-” 

“The accident site,” Clara breathes.   

The blonde nods.   

“We should take precautions,” Clara points out.  “Do you know how the flower infects people?” 

“Inhalation would be my guess since the priest mentioned sneezing.  We’ll need oxygen masks and maybe eye protection goggles-” 

Clara can’t wait for the safety equipment to arrive.  “I’ll go ask Lex for them.  Why don’t you see if you can track down a cure?  Maybe we’ll get lucky.” 

Chloe looks doubtful, but knowing the lack of other options, she readily nods.  “I'll do my best.” 

The moment Mr. Sullivan drops her back off at home, Clara speeds through the house and the barn to get a flashlight, a pair of goggles, gloves, and an airtight container.  She then heads directly over to the accident site.  The debris is spread over quite a distance thanks to some serious road rage on Pete’s part, but that’s what her telescopic and x-ray visions are for.  She carefully and thoroughly scans the ground around her, before taking a step forward and repeating the same process.  

Clara sees nothing that remotely looks like a flower until she’s nearly halfway through, when she spots what looks like a curled up weed.  Putting on goggles and gloves and holding her breath, she walks towards it, and sees the flower rising up from the ground.  As its petals open, she snaps the stem and carefully packs the flower into the container before sealing the lid.  Then, taking off the goggles, she burns what remains of the flower, including the root, with her heat vision, to make sure it can’t grow and spread.    

She then speeds over to the mansion. 

*** 

If Lex is surprised to see Clara stopping by so late with a flower in a jar, he doesn’t show it.   

“My lawyers are still looking through-” 

“I’m not here about that, though thank you,” she adds.  “Chloe and I think Hamilton brought back the nicodemus, a flower that had gone extinct over a hundred years ago.  Its pollen induced the same symptoms he, Pete, and my dad are experiencing right now back then, and it led to the deaths of two hundred people.” 

Lex stills at the mention of Hamilton, though Clara is too distracted to notice.   

“Do you know anyone who can study the flower and its pollen and come up with a cure?” 

He nods.  “I can get a team of specialists in Metropolis to work on it.”  The guilt churns in his gut at the look of distress and despair on her face.  "I promise you, Clara, I’ll find a cure.” 

“Thanks, Lex,” she whispers before hurrying out, intent on heading back to the hospital to inform her mother on the progress that’s been made and to be with her parents. 

*** 

Seeing Martha holding onto Jonathan’s hand, Clara quietly enters the room. 

“How is he?” 

“Not good,” she admits.  “Clara, Mr. Hamilton died half an hour ago.” 

Clara swallows roughly and tries to be strong for her mother.  “Chloe and I think we’ve found the culprit, a previously extinct flower that Hamilton brought back.  I gave the flower to Lex and he’s going to have the experts look into it and come up with a cure.  Dad’ll be okay, you’ll see.” 

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I ever saw your father?” Martha asks with a tremulous smile. 

She has, of course, but Clara knows that’s not what her mother needs to hear right now.  “No.” 

Martha lets out a half laugh, half sob.  “He came to Met U to take a finance course, and uh, he was sitting by a fountain all denim and flannel, eating an apple.  And I asked to borrow his notes.”  She turns to her.  “He didn’t know that I was the designated note-taker for the class.  He still doesn’t.” 

“You were sly, mom,” Clara teases. 

Martha smiles.  “He was so cute.  So I- I asked him for his notes and he… just handed over his notebook without even asking my name.  I asked him, ‘How can you be so sure I’ll bring it back?’  And he said, ‘I prefer to believe in people.’” 

She smiles.  “That sounds like dad.” 

“And I remember looking at him, completely embarrassed because I was thinking the dumbest thing.  I was thinking, god, I hope he marries me.  I still think that.  Every day there’s a part of me that says, god, I hope he marries me.” 

When she starts to cry, Clara swallows her own tears and just hugs her mother. 

*** 

With Hamilton’s death, the need for a cure is more urgent than ever before.  Clara is relieved they’re on break from school as she doubts she can focus on classes right now.  Instead, she and Chloe feverishly search to see if there is a cure for the nicodemus, and Lana and Whitney soon join them in their efforts.   

When Lex calls, Clara can’t help but hope that he has good news – only to be disappointed when he relays that the scientists are still working on coming up with a cure.   

“I do have news on the contract your father signed.” 

Clara braces herself.  “Okay.” 

“The good news is the deal’s worth three times the market value.  The bad news is, it’s ironclad, meaning it’ll take a dozen extra lawyers.  Fortunately, I’ve got an army of them.” 

“Thank you, Lex,” she breathes out.  “For once, I think even my dad will be glad for your help.” 

Clara refuses to consider that her father may not live long enough to give his thanks to Lex. 

“I’d love to know what Rickman said to convince your father.  I know the farm’s in debt, but he’s going to pave it over and turn it into a wasteland.  Hardly better than the offers I’ve made.” 

“That’s the thing, Lex, my father would never sell the farm.”  That much Clara knows for certain. 

“Except that he did,” he points out.  “Rickman’s known for getting past people’s defenses, but that’s just good business… unless you think there’s more to it than that.” 

She just shakes her head, before realizing she’s on the phone and Lex can’t see her.  “I don’t know.” 

“And it’s not a priority for you right now, I understand,” he says sympathetically, forcibly shelving his curiosity over the possibility that Rickman may have a meteor rock-induced ability.   

“Thanks, Lex.”   

*** 

To everyone’s relief, their efforts at searching for a cure finally bear fruit.  Since the flowers have existed for hundreds of years, it turns out that the Native Americans have developed some sort of an herbal antidote, and the instructions have been written into an obscure book.  Unfortunately for them, the book is incredibly rare, almost one of a kind.  It takes some more searching but they thankfully manage to locate it in a tiny museum where it’s undoubtedly been collecting dust.  A quick call to Lex results in the book being agreed to be loaned to him in exchange for some much needed publicity for the museum, and he has them express deliver it to his team in Metropolis. 

Clara nearly cries upon hearing the news. 

To keep herself from pacing up and down the hospital corridors until the cure arrives – and driving her mother crazy in the process – Clara turns her attention back to Bob Rickman.  Chloe, being the good friend that she is, assists her in digging into him despite being exhausted.  In an effort to be helpful – and honestly needing to do something active – Clara offers to go for a coffee run.   

At the Beanery, Lex is standing at the counter waiting for his own coffee.  As a waitress extends a foamy mug towards him, Rickman approaches. 

“Hello, Lex.” 

Lex reluctantly turns around.  When Rickman extends his hand, he pointedly looks at it though he doesn’t accept. 

“Oh, come on, Lex.  This Art of War stuff is for amateurs.” 

“It’s not that.  I just don’t like you,” he says baldly. 

Rickman’s smile is tight as he lets out a chuckle.  He rubs his fingers with his thumb as Lex moves around him, heading for an open table, and follows. 

“So my attorney tells me that my purchase of the Kent Farm is being challenged.”  

“I warned you that the Kents were a tough nut to crack.” 

To Lex’s annoyance, Rickman sits across from him.   

“I recognize LuthorCorp lawyers when I see them.  Why are you involved?” 

“Smallville’s my home and the Kents are my friends.” 

Rickman stands.  “Well, with friends like you, Lex…”  He gives Lex’s shoulder a pat as he passes him. 

“Don’t touch me,” he says coldly.   

Clara, having witnessed the latter part of that exchange as she enters the Beanery, stops to confront Rickman before he can make his way out the door. 

“How’d you get my dad to sign that contract?” 

He blinks, before realizing who she must be.  “Oh, you must be the Kents’ daughter.  I’m just a good businessman, darling.  No hard feelings, huh?” 

When he extends his hand to her, she takes it and purposefully squeezes it hard enough that his hand audibly crunches and the bones of his hand grind together.  Rickman is so surprised he’s unable to entrance Clara that it takes a second for the pain to register.  He barely holds back a pained cry, and wincing, he cradles his hand as he leaves. 

Clara watches him go, before cringing as she realizes she shouldn’t have done that.  A quick look around thankfully shows her that no one seems to have seen the encounter.  Unfortunately, Rickman at least now knows she’s stronger than she appears, perhaps even abnormally strong.  She’d just been so angry with everything that’s going on, but still, that’s no excuse.  She’s never really lost her temper before, having had the importance of control over her powers drilled into her from a young age, and it scares her that she could’ve irreparably harmed him. 

What’s worse is that a part of her had wanted to hurt him.  And that absolutely terrifies her.  

Unable to worry about that on top of everything else going on, Clara numbly makes her way to the counter to order Chloe’s favorite coffee to go before joining Lex.   

Before she can do more than greet him – and thank him once again for all of his help – Chloe sprints into the Beanery.   

“Clara!” 

Even as Chloe reaches for the coffee that Clara holds out to her, she smacks an old newspaper clipping down onto the tabletop.  To Clara’s surprise, it has a picture of Rickman and Kyle Tippet holding a plaque.   

“So I spent a charming couple of hours delving into the exotic world of agricultural equipment, and it seems that our resident tree-hugging hermit Kyle and pesticide tycoon Rickman were partners in the mid-80’s.” 

“They sold farm equipment?” Lex asks. 

“Yeah, they were ‘Salesmen of the Year’ three years running – ‘89, ‘90, and ‘91.  Then the year after that, Rickman started his own company and Kyle went Walden.” 

“Wonder what happened,” Clara muses. 

“I don’t know, but I found this story in the Smallville Ledger,” the blonde says, sliding over the clipping to Clara. 

“Salesmen trapped in a car after meteor shower,” she reads. 

“I’m guessing whatever’s going on started that sunny October day, twelve years ago.” 

“Let’s go ask him, shall we?”  

*** 

They pull up to Kyle’s trailer in the woods in Lex’s car.  It’s a bit of a tight fit, to say the least, since the Ferrari is a two-seater, but they manage – meaning Chloe sits on Clara’s lap while hanging on for dear life as Lex speedily drives them.  The area outside the trailer is surrounded with modern art-style sculptures made from salvage, and despite there being plenty of daylight, a fire burns in a metal barrel.  

The trio get out of the Ferrari and look around, but there’s no one else there.   

“A real rural Rodin, huh?” Chloe remarks as she walks over to the trailer and knocks on the door.   

When Kyle doesn’t appear, she tries to look through the window next to the door in between the gaps of the slats of the blinds before realizing she can’t see anything and knocks again.   

A quick use of x-ray vision reveals no one is inside, and she’s about to say so to Chloe when Kyle appears behind her. 

“You’re trespassing.” 

“Where'd you come from?” Chloe asks, whipping around. 

“Magic,” he quips, widening his eyes.  “Haven’t you heard of crazy Kyle who lives in the woods by himself?  He’s somewhere between Bigfoot and the Blair Witch.” 

Clara extends her hand to Kyle as she starts to introduce herself.  “I’m-” 

Kyle doesn’t shake it.  “Clara Kent, Jonathan and Martha’s daughter.” 

“How’d you know that?” she asks as she pulls her hand back. 

“I live in a trailer, not a cave.” 

Chloe walks over to join them.  “We know that Rickman used to be your partner.” 

“That was a million years ago,” he says dismissively. 

“What happened to you guys in that meteor shower?” the blonde asks.  “Trust me, you’re not the only ones that were affected by it.” 

When Kyle doesn’t look like he’s willing to answer, Clara speaks up.  “How did Rickman get my dad to sell our farm?  There’s no way he would have done so voluntarily.  What did Rickman do to him?” 

Lex, who’s been walking around, sees something in a pile of salvage.  Pulling out a blue hardhat with Rickman Industries logo on it, he walks over and displays it to Kyle. 

Kyle snatches the hat from him.  “If I wanted to explain myself all the time, I’d get a job.  But I left that world behind for a reason.  Goodbye.” 

“My dad is in the hospital, likely in a coma, and there’s every chance he may die.”  Clara’s voice wavers.  “If he dies and Rickman takes our home…” 

Kyle swallows roughly, clearly affected by Clara’s plea.  He looks away before he finally speaks.  “You know, until the day of the meteor shower, we were the worst salesmen to ever carry a catalog.  And all that changed after they pulled us out of that car.  With a single handshake we could get people to do whatever we wanted them to do.  Buy a tractor.  Stand on one leg.” 

“You’re saying you have the power of persuasion?” Chloe says skeptically. 

“How long does it last?” Clara asks. 

Kyle shrugs.  “Until the person does what I tell them to do.  Could be two minutes or two hours, and then they come out of it without a memory.”    

Clara asks with a worried frown, “What happens if they can’t do what you want?”  

“They keep trying, unless they’re forcibly snapped out of it.” 

“Well it sounds good in theory, but, uh, how ‘bout you prove it?” 

“Chloe-” Clara warily starts. 

“What?  The guy lives in a crappy trailer out in the woods,” the blonde points out.  “You’d think if he has this power he’d use it to sell some of these… sculptures.” 

“It’s dangerous,” Kyle warns. 

Chloe shrugs.  “I’m used to living on the edge.”  

Kyle eyes the cast on Chloe’s arm before he looks at Lex and Clara.  When neither of them protest, he extends his hand to Chloe.  The moment Chloe takes it, he puts his other hand around hers and a green glow appears between his palms. 

“You have feelings for Lex Luthor, don’t you, Chloe?  So why don’t you show him.  Give him a kiss… on the cheek.” 

As Kyle speaks, Clara’s eyebrows go up, and she exchanges unconvinced looks with Lex.  Until they see the blank expression on Chloe’s face and the green glow in her eyes.  When Kyle pulls his hands away, Chloe turns to them.  She runs her hands up Lex’s stomach towards his chest, and when Lex gently but firmly grabs them to stop her, she stands on her tiptoes and leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. 

Lex instinctively pushes her away, and though Chloe stumbles, she doesn’t fall.  Both he and Clara find themselves glad that Kyle had specified cheek when giving Chloe instructions. 

Chloe turns back to Kyle as though nothing has happened.  “Okay, come on!  I’m ready.” 

Lex, Clara, and Kyle exchange looks, causing Chloe to furrow her brows. 

“What?  Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Let’s just say he proved his point,” Lex notes wryly before pulling out a handkerchief to wipe off Chloe’s lip-gloss from his cheek. 

“Oh god, did I just-” 

“Don’t worry, it was fine,” Clara reassures her.  “Right, Lex?” 

As Chloe puts the tips of her fingers to her head in shock and mortification, Clara turns to Kyle.  “So wait.  If you have these gifts, why do you hide in the woods?” 

Kyle had been walking away but he stops at her question.  He sighs.  “Because I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to control it.  And that I’d wind up like Bob.” 

Before they can ask more questions, a police car arrives.  To their surprise, when the deputy gets out, he pulls out a gun. 

“Get down!” Clara yells.   

Seeing that the deputy is only targeting Kyle – who has ducked behind Lex’s car – the three of them carefully make their way towards the deputy who’s moving towards the bullet-ridden Ferrari to get to Kyle.  Once he runs out of bullets, before he can reload, both Lex and Clara lunge for him, knocking him to the ground and into unconsciousness. 

Leaving Lex to restrain him – and after checking both he and Chloe are okay – Clara runs over to Kyle. 

“Are you alright?” 

He hurriedly gets up.  “I’m fine, but I’m done here.  I need to get away before Bob can send someone else to kill me.” 

“Wait, wait.  Why does Rickman want to kill you?” Clara asks. 

“Because I know his secret and… I threatened to expose him if he ever built a plant here.” 

“Yeah, but he’s been destroying communities like this for years,” Chloe points out.  “How come you let him get away with it for so long?” 

“Because I wanted to be left alone!” he snaps.  “As long as it wasn’t here, it wasn’t my problem.” 

Clara is aghast.  “My dad lost our farm because you didn’t tell anyone!” 

“Do you know what it’s like to have to hide because of who you are?” 

Clara lets out a dark laugh.  He has no idea how much she can relate to that sentiment.  “Just because you have a gift doesn’t mean you just hide in a hole and hope it goes away!  How many more lives does Rickman have to ruin before you’ll do the right thing?” 

It’s clearly not the first time such a thought has crossed his mind as a look of guilt flashes across Kyle’s face.  He quickly suppresses it, however, even if he’s unable to meet Clara’s pointed gaze.   

“I can keep you safe if you’ll go public about Bob,” Lex offers.   

Clara purposefully walks forward until Kyle’s forced to look at her.  “Please.” 

Kyle stares at the pleading look on Clara’s face before he slowly nods in agreement.  

“Great!”  Chloe brightens.  “I can-” 

“Better make it professional reporters,” Lex says, though he gives Chloe an apologetic look.  “I have friends at the Inquisitor, or I can call some people at the Daily Planet or the Metropolis Journal if you want to talk to them instead.” 

Kyle just says, “I’ll do what I have to, to stop him.” 

Hearing a groan, they look over to where the deputy is slowly regaining consciousness.  As they carefully watch to make sure he’s no longer under Rickman’s influence, Kyle takes the opportunity to get into the cop car and drive off. 

“Kyle!” 

*** 

Clara offers to take the still-groggy deputy to the hospital in Lex’s bullet-riddled car while he and Chloe await for one of his staff to pick them up.  After all, the last thing Lex needs is to be accused of assaulting a police officer, and despite his car being a wreck, he’s not about to let Chloe drive it.

Once assured the car won’t burst into flames, Lex lets them go, and Clara floors it, knowing she has to go track down Kyle.  

She leaves Lex’s car at the hospital, reminding herself to let him know that so he can get his staff to pick it up or get it towed to the mansion.  Then using super speed, Clara tracks down the errant police car.  Unfortunately, by the time she finally does, she sees Rickman and Kyle struggling over a gun, both their hands glowing an eerie green.  Clara hesitates, not sure what she can do to help and fearful that any action on her part will make Kyle lose.  As she watches helplessly, she sees Rickman’s eyes start to glow before he raises the gun and shoots himself in the head.   

Clara jolts and looks down at the body with horror as Kyle remarks, “I always was the better salesman.” 

She doesn’t know how to react.  Kyle had been defending himself against someone who had been trying to kill him, someone who had taken her family’s farm away.  And yet she’s not sure if making him kill himself had been the right course of action. 

“I didn’t make him kill himself,” Kyle explains, seeing the look in her eyes.  “I merely ordered him to carry out on himself what he’d been trying to make me do.” 

“Are you… are you okay?” is all she can ask at that. 

Kyle nods.  “You were right, I was just hiding in the woods because I was a coward.  I think from now on, I’ll do great things with my gift instead.” 

Before Clara can ask what these “great things” are, he says, “I am sorry I took so long before I dealt with Bob.  But hopefully without him you’ll be able to get your family farm back.” 

And with that, he takes off into the woods as sirens are heard, no doubt in response to the gunshot. 

Clara just stares at the dead body of Rickman, not sure how she feels, before she eventually speeds back home before she’s caught by the cops. 

*** 

By the time the cure is synthesized and delivered to the hospital, Jonathan has also followed Pete and fallen into a coma.  The doctors warn them that even assuming the possible cure works as intended, there’s no guarantee it’d been administered in time, leaving the Kents and the Rosses in a state of anxiety.   

“With all my abilities there’s nothing I can do,” Clara hoarsely admits, looking at her father lying in his hospital bed.  He looks peaceful, like he’s just sleeping, and she can’t help but desperately wish he’ll wake up soon and chastise them for being so worried over him for no reason. 

“You found a cure, Clara, you’ve done more than enough,” Martha reassures her. 

“What do we do if dad…” she trails off, unable to even finish the thought. 

Martha shakes her head.  “I don’t know,” she whispers, and tears trail down her cheeks. 

This time around, Clara remains at the hospital all night, and Martha doesn’t insist she go back home.  They take turns watching over Jonathan, and as morning arrives – and seeing the exhaustion lining Martha’s face – Clara leaves to fetch her a cup of coffee.  When she returns with a Styrofoam cup in hand, Jonathan finally opens his eyes. 

"Is that for me?” 

“Jonathan!” 

“Dad!” 

The two of them embrace him, smiling and laughing and crying.  “You’re okay!” 

“What am I doing here?” he rasps out. 

Clara exchanges a look with her mother before she asks, “Dad, what’s the last thing you remember?” 

He frowns.  “The accident-- Pete’s car exploded.  Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine, dad,” Clara assures him, guessing that if he’s recovered, then Pete must have also, even if he may have to remain in the hospital for longer due to the injuries he’s gotten from the car accident.  “You sure you don’t remember anything that happened after that?” 

“No,” he says, clearly worried. 

“You did have a pretty high fever,” Martha tells him.  “That’s probably why you don’t remember.” 

“Trust me, it's better this way,” Clara assures him, before hugging him once more. 

*** 

The dinner the evening Jonathan is discharged home is quietly celebratory given his exhaustion, and Clara eagerly heads to the loft afterwards to give her parents some time alone.  When she hears the familiar rumble of a high performance engine, her lips curve into a smile.    

Lex climbs up the stairs of the Kents’ barn and finds Clara watching the sun set through the loft window. 

“Clara.” 

“Hey,” she greets him. 

“You can tell your dad I talked to my lawyers.  Because of Rickman’s untimely demise, they’re not expanding.  They ripped up the contract.” 

She breathes out a sigh of relief.  “Thanks.  And thank you for everything you’ve done for me and my family.” 

“Hey, what are friends for?” 

Clara hugs him, and allows herself to lean into him, letting him bear some of her weight.  When she finally pulls away, she doesn’t go far – she settles herself against his side and he carefully drapes his arm around her shoulders, and they continue to watch the sun set in a comfortable silence. 

“I wonder where Kyle is now?” he muses as the sky turns from a fiery orange to a more purplish hue. 

“I don’t know.  It’s still strange to think that he and Rickman were once best friends.”  She turns to look Lex in the eyes.  “Think we’ll ever end up like that?” 

He gazes back at her.  “Trust me, Clara.  Our friendship is going to be the stuff of legends.” 

They smile at each other before turning back to stare at the setting sun. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

Unfortunately, although Pete has also received the cure for the nicodemus infection, there is no noticeable change in his status. It’s something the doctors had warned both Judge and Mr. Ross about given the sheer multitude of physical traumas Pete’s body has suffered as a result of the car accident. They had hoped it would be otherwise as it would have made Pete’s recovery both easier and faster, but they’d been realistic with the Rosses on the high likelihood of Pete still remaining in a comatose state even after the administration of the antidote.

Of course, just because the Rosses had been warned doesn’t make it any less devastating. The doctors therefore are sympathetic as they explain that the only thing they can do is give Pete’s body time to heal, and that it’s likely that once he is sufficiently recovered, he’ll wake from the coma on his own. And as for them, since they have their own hospitals and patients in Metropolis to return to, they’ll be handing over Pete’s case to the staff of Smallville Medical Center who are more than capable of continuing to oversee his care.

Even as Judge Ross thanks the medical team for their efforts, her husband accuses them of being a part of a Luthor conspiracy against his family. Before anyone can react to the ludicrous accusation beyond blinking their eyes in confusion and incredulity, he physically attacks the doctor who’s been speaking to them. Thankfully Sheriff Ethan is there as he’d accompanied his friend to lend him support, and he manages to pull him away before he causes too much damage. Still, he’s forced to arrest him for assault. While it’s likely he won’t actually be charged considering the extenuating circumstances of his son’s hospitalization – not to mention the fact that he’s married to a judge – in the meantime it’s an additional burden on his wife that she certainly doesn’t need.

By the time Clara arrives at the hospital, she’s largely missed the showdown. She is in time, however, to see Mr. Ross being led to the police car in handcuffs by the sheriff, with Judge Ross reluctantly following after them, her lips pursed and brows furrowed in anger and disapproval.

Spotting Lana amid the gathered crowd, Clara hurries over towards her.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she quietly asks, mindful of the people around them.

Lana, having also come to the hospital to visit Pete, had gotten there early enough to witness the entire incident. However, realizing that Pete’s parents can see them – and unwilling to stand there and gossip in front of them – she leads Clara inside the building first, and as they make their way to Pete’s room, she quickly tells Clara everything she’d seen.

“Mr. Ross must be under tremendous stress and pain,” Lana concludes sympathetically.

Clara does feel terrible for Pete’s poor parents and the suffering they must be going through seeing their youngest child lying in a coma and knowing there’s nothing they can do to fix it. Still… “Attacking a doctor just because he’s the bearer of bad news? And because he happens to be a member of the medical team Lex brought over to Smallville to help his son?” She shakes her head. “Mr. Ross was completely out of line.”

“Oh, I know,” Lana quickly agrees. “And after everything Lex has already done for us, too.”

“Is the doctor okay?”

Her brows furrow as she tries to remember the assault. “I think so. Sheriff Ethan pulled Mr. Ross away pretty quickly – I don’t think he got more than a couple of punches in.”

Clara’s lips tighten. She can’t believe Mr. Ross would so rail against Lex, a man who’d saved his son’s life – twice, now, as a matter of fact – just because of his last name. It’s no wonder Pete had spewed such vitriol against Lex if this is what he’s constantly hearing at home.

They’re just about to sit down by Pete’s bedside when Chloe hurriedly enters the room.

Clara’s eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be halfway to Metropolis by now.”

Chloe waves her hand. “Ah, it’s just an interview for a summer internship. I can always reschedule.”

Clara raises an eyebrow at the nonchalant – almost dismissive – way Chloe is acting, since it’s clear given she can’t meet her eyes that the blonde is not as sanguine about this as she is pretending to be. She carefully points out, “You’ve been wanting that internship at the Planet for months.”

“I know,” Chloe admits with a sigh. “I just feel weird taking off right now.”

Lana gently says, “There’s nothing you can do here for Pete, Chloe. The doctors are hopeful – he just needs time to heal.”

Clara adds, “Besides, you know Pete would kick your butt for using him as an excuse to skip out on that interview.”

Knowing they’re right, Chloe gives a smile of reluctance mixed with relief. After all, while she’d been willing to miss her interview with the Daily Planet because Pete’s more important, it hadn’t been a decision she’d made without regret. As much as she’s told herself that they’ll be willing to reschedule, a part of her hadn’t been all that certain it wouldn’t hurt her chances of getting the internship, fearing they’ll take it as evidence of her lack of dedication to the Daily Planet.

Except now, she won’t have to miss her interview after all.

“Okay. I’m crashing at my cousin’s dorm. Call me on my cell if anything changes,” she says, giving Clara a firm look to make sure she won’t try and spare her just because she’s afraid she’ll ruin Chloe’s chances at a summer internship.

Clara gives a solemn nod. “I will.”

After gently squeezing Pete’s hand in hers, Chloe turns to leave when she suddenly whirls back. There’s something tremulous in her expression as she hesitantly asks, “Are you gonna wish me luck?”

Even as Lana does so, Clara chuckles. “You don’t need it,” she reassures her.

Chloe’s back straightens at that bout of confidence and she smiles. “Alright. Bye.”

“Bye Chloe.”

With one last look at Pete, Chloe leaves.

***

At Jonathan’s insistence, Martha and Clara reluctantly agree to catch him up on what he’s done while he’d been under the influence of the nicodemus, though they refrain from revealing that he’d shot Clara. After all, he’d only blame himself despite it being an accident and ultimately not his fault.

“Like father like daughter,” Martha says fondly, although her eyes reveal she hasn’t quite managed to forget the sight of her only child being shot by her husband. Clara can’t deny she’s had more than a few unsettling dreams of the incident herself, though she’s far more concerned with yet more proof of her seeming immortality. Thankfully, the remembrance of the absence of Lex’s gravestone in Cassandra’s vision as well as the existence of the meteor rocks that cause her debilitating pain – a definitive proof she isn’t invulnerable and therefore unlikely to be immortal – keep her from spiraling into despair again.

Still, while Clara is more than happy to put the whole ordeal behind her, there’s one aspect of her conduct that she hasn’t yet reconciled herself to or know how to deal with. She’d normally go to her mother for advice, but this time she approaches her father because she figures he’d be the one most able to empathize with her.

When Clara finds him, he’s almost finished checking the fence posts. On seeing that one of the posts had become rotted, she quickly replaces it before he can even reach for his tools.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

She clears her throat and scrounges up the courage to speak. “Dad, when Mom and I were telling you about Rickman, I left out something.”

He straightens up at the look on her face. “What is it, Clara?”

“I saw Rickman after you were hospitalized. And I- I got so angry that I, uh, nearly broke his hand,” she confesses shamefacedly.

Jonathan’s face morphs to one of understanding. It’s no wonder Clara is worrying about this considering how much he and Martha have stressed the need for her to control her strength. He also can’t help but feel proud that she’s opting to admit her near loss of control rather than hiding it from them since, with Rickman dead, neither he nor Martha would have ever found out about it if she hadn’t told them.

“I’m glad you told me about this, Clara,” he says first, because that’s important.

Seeing the strained expression on her face, Jonathan decides that since no harm’s come of it, he’ll try and make her feel better instead rather than reiterate how she needs to be careful. It’s certainly nothing she doesn’t already know, anyhow.

“You get that temper from me, you know,” he quips.

Clara considers letting that be, but in the end, she’s worried enough to get to the real heart of the matter.

“It’s not just that.” Bracing herself, she finally gets out, “Dad, for a brief second, I wanted to… I wanted to really hurt him.”

She’s unable to look at him, unable to bear seeing the fear and disgust and disappointment that surely must be visible on her father’s face. To her surprise, however, he comfortingly squeezes her shoulder instead.

“Believe me, sweetheart, I know all there is to know about losing your temper. To this day I still deeply regret assaulting your grandfather. Not just because it was wrong, but because I proved to him with my actions that I’m no better than everything he’s thought of me.”

He lets out a long sigh.

“In life, it’s inevitable that you’ll encounter situations where your fear and anger will get the better of you. But Clara, you of all people can’t afford to give into it. Don’t let the Rickmans of the world get to you. This is their game, and you don’t win by playing at their level.”

Although it’s clear he means well, Clara only feels her frustration mounting. He isn’t telling her anything she doesn’t already know, and his reminder of the additional burden that is on her shoulders because of her powers doesn’t help at all. In fact, he’s actually making it worse.

She takes a deep breath, trying for patience, and attempts to get some answers that may actually be useful. “So how do I… rise above it all?”

He lets out a tired chuckle. “When you figure it out, you tell me. But I’ll tell you one thing, once you cross that line, there’s no going back.”

Then, with a firm pat on her back, he bends over to pick up his tools and heads back towards the barn.

Clara lets out a frustrated sigh once she knows her father’s too far away to hear her.

That hasn’t helped at all.

For a few minutes, she considers approaching her mother about this, but she doubts the answer she’ll get will be much different. And honestly, the last thing Clara wants to hear is how she needs to be careful because of her powers, as if she doesn’t already know that, as if she hasn’t had it drilled into her head for as long as she can remember. Besides, her father will no doubt be telling her about their conversation soon anyway, and if there’s anything her mother wants to add, she’ll approach Clara herself.

Letting out another gusty sigh, she slowly makes her way into the woods.

As Clara walks around aimlessly, she can’t help but remember how it’d felt to crush Rickman’s hand. How powerful and satisfying it had been for a brief moment. How easy it would’ve been to just give in to her worst impulses. And how horrifying it is, knowing that that kind of darkness is inside of her.

The thing is, she doesn’t think that kind of darkness is unnatural – no doubt even the calmest and kindest person in the world will want to retaliate against the person causing the suffering of their loved ones. That desire, she thinks, is human. The problem is that she isn’t human, and because of the immense damage she can inflict without meaning to, she can’t afford to forget herself for even a single second. Yet she honestly doesn’t know how to rise above, to not let Rickmans of the world get to her, to ignore and suppress all the fear and anger and always remain in control no matter the provocation.

As she bites back her urge to scream in frustration, she realizes her feet have inadvertently brought her to the cemetery. She stares at the tombstone of the Langs who had been killed by the meteors that had come down with her ship, and once again the necessity of always being in control – and the deadly consequences otherwise – is displayed in stark relief.

Clara forces herself to recall the confrontation with Rickman again, but this time, rather than her brief moment of satisfaction, she focuses instead on the guilt and regret she’d felt immediately after, the terror at the thought of having betrayed her alienness, and the horror that had come upon her at the evidence of the darkness that she hadn’t known is inside her. She looks at the Langs’ gravestone again, and almost welcomes the feeling of guilt at the reminder of the damage she can cause.

Clara relaxes a little at that. Maybe she’s fooling herself, but as long as she’s still terrified of that darkness inside her, she thinks she’ll be okay, that she’ll be able to stop herself from crossing that line.

At least she hopes so.

***

With life on the farm back to normal, more or less, Clara carefully suggests at dinner that they invite Lex over for a home-cooked meal as a thank you for everything he’s done for them. She’s about to bring up points that she’s carefully thought of in advance to convince her parents when her mother eagerly interjects.

“That’s a great idea, Clara!” she says enthusiastically.

Clara isn’t surprised by her agreement since she’s not the one who needs convincing. She is stunned, however, when her father readily agrees. Indeed, even her mother appears taken aback that he’d done so without having to be talked into it.

Jonathan grimaces on seeing their astonishment. He gruffly says, “I may be stubborn, but I can admit when I’m wrong. He saved this farm and my life. The least I owe him is an apology and a thank you.”

Knowing how much that must’ve cost him to acknowledge let alone admit out loud, Clara gives him a bright smile, and Martha gives him a tender look that speaks volumes.

With Jonathan’s agreement, Clara and Martha carefully plan out a dinner menu. Clara insists on more plain, comforting dishes than anything fancy, figuring Lex has probably tasted the best the top restaurants in the world have to offer and there’s no way they’ll be able to match the concoctions made by expert chefs. But a simple, home-cooked meal shared among friends is probably something he hasn’t experienced much of, if at all. So they decide on meatloaf and a couple of side dishes including Grandma Kent’s green bean casserole, with a delicious apple pie for dessert.

Lex appears a little wary when he first enters the house, but Clara’s wide smile and the delicious aroma of dinner seem to put him at ease. Once Martha welcomes him – and Lex thanks her for the invitation – it’s Jonathan’s turn. He approaches Lex and clears his throat.

“Listen, Lex, I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and my family. And to apologize for what I said and how I behaved the last time you were here.” He continues on before Lex can interrupt. “I was under the influence of that darned flower, but still, I know those words didn’t come from nowhere. So I’m sorry. And thank you.”

He then tops it all off by extending his hand. Clearly shocked, it takes a beat before Lex readily shakes his proffered hand.

“Considering how many times your daughter has saved my life, Mr. Kent, this was the least I could do.”

Before an awkward silence can settle between them, Clara interrupts.

“Come on, Lex, you’re sitting next to me.”

And as Lex sits down beside Clara and enjoys a wonderful home-cooked meal, for the first time since he’s arrived in Smallville, he actually feels welcome. It’s a heady feeling, even better than the highs he used to chase in his youth, and all the better for how long he’s been trying to earn the respect of Clara’s parents. Lex savors and hoards every moment of it, as his upbringing – such as it is – from Lionel and everything his life experiences have taught him, he knows it won’t last.

A part of him feels a niggle of guilt at the knowledge that Jonathan Kent had only been put in harm’s way because of a project he’d unknowingly funded, but that’s easy enough to squash since he’d been unaware that such a research was being conducted in the first place. It’s a thought that rather galls Lex, actually, and he’s put his head of security, Mr. Raines, on thoroughly searching Hamilton’s property to recover any and all of his research. Lex is certain that given the disgraced scientist’s paranoia, he must’ve hidden copies of his research somewhere just in case, and given that it is his money that’s been funding it, he’s determined to find it.

“That was absolutely delicious, Mrs. Kent, Clara,” he praises once again after he cleans his plate of a generous second helping. “We should most definitely be serving food at the Talon.”

As Clara smiles, Martha flushes with pleasure. “You think so, Lex?”

“He’s right,” Jonathan agrees, which almost gets Lex to do a double-take though he just about manages to refrain.

“Maybe after we find our footing,” Martha suggests.

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands,” Lex says.

“Time for dessert!” Clara declares as she gets up and begins to clear the dirty dishes from the table.

As Lex stands to assist, Martha bids him to stay seated. “You’re our guest, Lex!”

Lex lets out a small groan as Martha brings over dessert plates and cutlery. “I don’t think I can eat another bite!”

“You’ll be changing your mind in a minute,” Jonathan tells him.

And indeed, when Clara places a delicious smelling apple pie on the table, he finds himself conceding. “Perhaps a small slice,” he says.

None of the Kents are surprised when Lex devours two whole slices of apple pie.

***

Since things are going rather well, Martha naturally receives a call from her father who throws her an unexpected curveball. Because she and Jonathan have not held up their end of the bargain, he will not be giving them additional funds beyond covering Clara’s travel expenses when she visits him for the summer.

“I’m sure the money I gave you that you’ve not spent on Clara will be more than enough to hire a farm-hand for the summer.”

“Dad…” Martha starts before she trails off, since there’s no way to explain how Clara is able to do the work of several farm-hands without giving away that she has powers. She’d known there’d be a repercussion to going back on her word to her father, but she’d agreed with Jonathan that using the money to keep the farm afloat – and to save for a rainy day – had been more important than spending it on Clara.

And now they’ll have to pay the price for that betrayal.

The fact of the matter is, despite the money he’d already given them, Martha had known they would have to rely on his further generosity come summer, even if Jonathan had been in denial. And now that more money will not be given to them – and she knows there’s nothing she can say that will change her father’s mind – they’ll have to use what they originally received from him to cover the costs of hiring additional farm-hands and hope that the Talon will open soon so that her pay from Lex will begin to supplement their income.

And so, she says resignedly, “Of course.”

Martha does however postpone the date of Clara’s departure to the second week of July and insists she return two weeks before school starts up again. Neither her father nor Clara are happy having their time together shortened, but even a few days, given Clara’s powers, can make a tremendous difference on the farm. Additionally, in an attempt at generating more income, she agrees to a tryout of fancier desserts for one of the grocery stores in Granville. It’d been one of their suggestions to increase revenue since they’ll be able to charge more. However, since she is by no means a pastry chef, Martha sets her sights on baked goods that are more time consuming to make rather than ones that require special technique.

Unfortunately, the more intricate nature of the concoctions mean that when mishaps occur – whether that be due to sudden braking of her car or because she accidentally bumps into someone – fixing them isn’t so easy, and indeed, sometimes require Martha to return home to bake replacements. It thankfully doesn’t happen often, but this time she isn’t so lucky. In fact, on this particular occasion, she’d been forced to make two round trips to bake replacements for the replacements, meaning the sun had long since set by the time she finally succeeds in delivering the goods and is on her way back home.

Of course, the universe then decides she isn’t having a bad enough night, and a boy suddenly darts in front of her car while she’s driving down an isolated stretch of road. She slams the brakes but it’s too late and she hits him. Although she hadn’t been speeding, as it is a highway he’s still flung against the hood and windshield of her car before being tossed to the side of the road, where he collapses in a heap on the ground.

“Oh my god!” Martha rasps out in horror before frantically undoing her seatbelt and getting out of the car. She runs over to where he’s lying on his back.

“Are you alright?” she asks as she gets on her knees above his head, stabilizing his neck with her hands just in case.

Fortunately he hasn’t lost consciousness, and manages to sit up on his own without any difficulty.

“Are you alright?” she asks again, clutching him tightly in her relief.

“I lost my shoe.”

Martha is too worried to laugh. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” she tells him, and helps him stand. “Come on.”

As they drive away, a man and a woman who’d been chasing the boy run out onto the road. He picks up the boy’s shoe and they watch the car’s tail lights disappear from view.

***

Considering how carefully Martha drives her car, especially at night, the news that she hit someone is preposterous enough that Jonathan and Clara hurry over to the hospital for fear that something must be wrong with her. Thankfully Martha is completely fine, if spooked and worried over the boy she’d hit. Jonathan and Clara tightly hug her in relief.

“Is that the kid?” Jonathan asks, seeing a boy reading a comic book inside the hospital room across from them.

Martha nods, before straightening on seeing Sheriff Ethan and Dr. Harden approach. Clara, who hasn’t spoken to Sheriff Ethan since she, Lex, and Chloe had given their statements that carefully omitted any hint of meteor rocks and ensured blame for the attack on the deputy and attempted murder of Kyle Tippet lay solely at Rickman’s feet, tries to be as unobtrusive as possible. Despite it really being Rickman’s fault – he had, after all, been the one to mind whammy Deputy Watts to kill Kyle – Sheriff Ethan hadn’t appeared all that convinced that Kyle had had no hand in both the attack on Deputy Watts and Rickman’s suicide, and only the fact that they genuinely knew nothing of where Kyle had disappeared to had spared them further interviews. However, Clara doesn’t doubt that he’s still looking for Kyle and has no intention of bringing the spotlight back onto herself.

Thankfully, he seems too preoccupied to notice her as his eyes don’t stray from Martha.

“How’s Ryan?” she asks, clearly concerned.

“He checks out physically. Just minor scrapes and bruises,” Dr. Harden assures her.

“What about his amnesia?” Martha asks, worry still tingeing her voice. Seeing Jonathan and Clara’s eyes widen in surprise, she explains, “Ryan told me he can’t remember anything but his name.”

Dr. Harden says, “True amnesia is extremely rare. It’s most likely due to shock.”

Clara, seeing that Ryan is looking at them, waves to him, hoping to reassure him. He hesitantly waves back.

As Martha breathes out a sigh of relief, Sheriff Ethan adds with a kind smile, “I’ve spoken to Ryan and have verified that he’s the one who suddenly ran out in front of your car. He won’t tell me just yet why he was running out onto the road so late at night, but since he’s fine, it’s clear you weren’t speeding, Martha, and that it was all just an accident and not your fault.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” Jonathan says, his tense shoulders relaxing. “When do you think his memory will return?”

“Probably within 24 to 48 hours,” Dr. Harden answers.

Clara can’t help but ask, “What if it doesn’t?”

Dr. Harden pauses, and exchanging a look with Sheriff Ethan, turns back to Clara’s parents.

“Martha, Jonathan,” she says, before gesturing with her head to the side of the hallway a few feet away from Clara, obviously asking to speak to them alone. They follow her and Ethan, not that that prevents Clara from being able to hear them since her hearing has always been exceptional, even when she doesn’t use her super hearing.

“It’s unlikely all of Ryan’s cuts and bruises were caused by the accident.”

Martha’s eyes go wide with horror. “You think he’s been abused?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Harden admits. “It could very well be from his peers. But if he has been abused, it’s possible that he may not want to remember.”

“What will happen to him?” Martha asks, looking at Ryan through the window.

Sheriff Ethan grimaces. “We’ve called Child Protective Services, but they’re understaffed and can’t come out until Monday at the earliest. So the only place for Ryan to stay is at the juvenile cell at the station.”

“That’s no place for a child!” Martha exclaims, and no one disagrees.

“Why can’t he come home with us?” Clara suggests.

“That’s a great idea,” Martha agrees, looking relieved at her suggestion.

“Can we do that?” Jonathan asks Dr. Harden and Sheriff Ethan.

“I don’t see why not,” Sheriff Ethan says. “It’d be a big help to us and I’m sure Ryan would appreciate it.”

Ryan, who’s been watching them all through the window, smiles.

***

Having arrived home quite late – in fact, it’d be more accurate to say they returned to the farm early Saturday morning – the Kent household is naturally having a delayed start to their day. Martha stifles a yawn as she comes downstairs, hoping to put together something simple and quick for brunch, only to be startled on seeing the dining table covered with dishes.

“Clara?”

To her surprise, rather than her daughter, it’s Ryan who’s dressed in Jonathan’s old clothes who makes his way from the kitchen holding a pitcher of orange juice. “It’s me, Mrs. Kent.”

She can’t help the wide-eyed look she gives him. “Ryan, did you do all this?”

“I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t sleep.”

Jonathan, who had been planning to just grab himself a cup of coffee before heading out, smiles upon smelling the delicious aroma. “Hey, what’s the occasion?”

“I wanted to make myself useful,” Ryan tells him. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Jonathan takes off his jacket and drapes it across the back of a chair. “Hey, you can stay as long as you want if this is the kind of treatment we get. Maybe some of you will rub off on Clara,” he jokes as he pulls out a chair for Martha to sit.

“What does everybody want?” Ryan asks with a smile. As they sit down at the table, he says, “Let me guess.”

He then starts to prepare a plate for Martha. “Pancakes, with powdered sugar, not syrup.”

When he hands her the plate, she asks, sounding surprised, “How did you know that?”

“I saw you eyeing them when you saw the table,” he answers with a smile.

When Jonathan clears his throat, Ryan says, “Scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee with milk and a little bit of honey.”

Jonathan exchanges impressed looks with Martha. “Well, well, that is some trick there, kiddo.”

Just as Ryan takes his own seat, Clara comes downstairs. “Morning, all. Mom, going all out for the new kid, huh?”

“Actually, Clara, Ryan took care of all of this himself,” Jonathan says before pointedly sipping his perfectly prepared coffee.

“You’re making me look bad,” she grumbles to Ryan as she sits down, although the smile she gives him makes it clear she’s not bothered.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Ryan asks.

Clara covers her mouth with her hand as she yawns, before turning back to Ryan with an inquisitive look.

His smile falls and he asks with an odd expression on his face, “Don’t you want anything, Clara?”

“I think I’ll just have some pancakes,” she says after looking at the spread, before reaching for them and putting a stack of them onto an empty plate.

Ryan continues to stare at her in confusion, and only snaps out of it when Martha asks, “Ryan, you okay?”

He nods, though he can’t help but glance over at Clara again.

Jonathan takes the opportunity provided by Ryan’s distracted state to ask, “Ryan, are you sure you don’t remember anything about last night?”

The obviously surprised and worried look mixed with a tinge of guilt that Ryan shoots him gets Jonathan to continue. “You see, cause I- I still can’t figure out why you were out on Route 90 at 10 o’clock at night.”

Ryan looks down at his lap. “I said I don’t remember.”

The Kents all exchange glances at that, the clear signs of a lie too obvious to ignore.

Ryan looks up. “I’m not hiding anything,” he says sharply before he gets up and leaves, which only confirms that he is indeed hiding something.

“No one said you were, buddy,” Clara calls out after him, knowing it’s better to not push just then. When he heads outside, she exchanges concerned looks with her parents.

When Martha makes a move to follow, Clara shakes her head. “No, Mom, you sit and enjoy your breakfast. I’ll go.”

Then, using super speed, she scarfs down the food on her plate before standing up and making her way out the door.

She finds Ryan sitting on the tractor parked by the barn near the basketball hoop, reading the same comic book he’d been reading at the hospital.

“Guess your parents want me to leave now.”

Clara raises her eyebrow. “Why would you think that?”

“Because they don’t believe me.”

She pauses. She doesn’t point out that that’s because he’s lying, and instead carefully says, “We just want to help you. Don’t you want to go home?”

“What if I don’t have a home? What if you found out I did bad things? What would happen to me then?” he asks plaintively, before his eyes widen in alarm and he clams up again, clearly realizing he’s given away the game.

Clara isn’t sure what she should do. She’s torn between pushing Ryan into revealing the truth and trying to reassure an obviously panicking kid. Besides, she can’t help but worry over what he has revealed – what bad things could Ryan possibly have done?

In the end, the tension and panic radiating from his frame decide the matter for her.

“It’ll all work out, Ryan, you’ll see,” she says reassuringly before swiftly changing the subject in hopes of distracting him. “You like comics?”

It works and he relaxes. “I like this one,” he says, holding it up.

“Warrior Angel,” she reads. “Why him?”

“Because he protects people who can’t protect themselves.”

Clara nods. “A good superhero then.”

He looks back up at that. “I like being around you, Clara. It’s… peaceful.”

She gives him a smile. “Why don’t you get your head out of that comic and play a little ball with me?”

At his nod, she fetches the basketball from the barn and dribbles it before easily shooting off a two-pointer. Once it sails through the hoop, she catches the ball before tossing it to Ryan, who makes an underhanded throw. Unfortunately, the ball hits the backboard instead and bounces off it, missing the hoop.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says when Clara runs over to pick up the ball. “I really suck.”

“Nothing a little practice can’t cure,” she tells him and hands him the ball again. “Go ahead. Get your hand up. Keep your elbows straight. And just guide the ball with your fingers.”

This time, when Ryan shoots, the ball goes through the hoop.

“Yeah!” he jumps into the air with his hands up in celebration.

“He shoots, he scores! Nice!” Clara cheers and gives him a high five.

As they keep shooting hoops and laugh and generally have fun, Martha comes outside to watch the two of them.

“That’s a great sound, isn’t it?” Jonathan says from behind her.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, turning to him with a smile.

As he embraces her from behind, Martha asks, “Do you ever think we made the wrong decision, not adopting another child? Maybe sharing her secret with a younger sibling would have helped.” She lets out a sigh. “She seems to really like Ryan.”

It had been a smart decision financially – there’s no way they could’ve afforded to have another child, especially one that isn’t immune to illness or injury like Clara – but seeing the bright smile on Clara’s face as she plays with Ryan, Martha thinks they maybe should have gone ahead and tried for an adoption, even with the financial hardship that would’ve followed.

Jonathan smiles. “I don’t think she’s the only one. You’ve always had a soft spot for strays,” he teases.

“Well, the last one turned out all right,” she points out rather smugly, before they turn back to continue to watch their daughter enjoy herself.

***

Lex is actually having a great day, still riding high from being accepted by the Kents at last, so of course Lionel has to ruin it. He bursts through the door of his study like the drama queen that he is, making Lex roll his eyes.

“I thought you were still in Monaco,” he says as Lionel, rather than wandering around, makes a beeline for him – or rather, his desk – instead.

“Ah, the backbone of surprise is fusing speed with secrecy,” he lectures as he picks up a paper Lex had left out.

Lex snatches it out of his hand and tucks it back into the folder. “Von Clausewitz, On War. Isn’t that a little 80’s, Dad, even for you?”

As he stands with the folder in hand, he decides to also take a book from his desk to place them away from his father’s reach.

Chuckling, Lionel says, “I never give my plant managers a heads-up before a spot inspection.”

“What could you possibly have to complain about now?” Lex remarks, stifling a sigh. “The plant’s doing well and LuthorCorp stock is up.”

Lionel chuckles again. “I’m not here to complain, Lex. On the contrary, your performance lately has been… more than adequate.”

Lex’s lips twitch into a small smile. “That sounds dangerously like a compliment.”

“I push you, Lex. I don’t deny it. Greatness is a rarified air one has to be taught to breathe.” Lionel moves closer, and putting his hand on his hip as though posing for a photo, says, “You know, Philip of Macedonia raised his son among lions to instill fearlessness in him.”

“Didn’t he also try to impale the kid with a spear?” Lex points out before pulling out the file from underneath Lionel’s other hand.

Lionel lets out yet another chuckle. “In an aborted coup attempt, but history remembers that boy as Alexander the Great.”

Lex sits back down in his chair and leans back. “Tell me you didn’t come all this way to lecture me on Greek history again.”

“No. I want you to come back to Metropolis.”

Since he’s not visible to his father who’s standing behind him, he allows a hint of surprise to show.

“Where,” Lionel announces with grandiosity, “you will hold the position of Special Advisor to the Chairman Emeritus.” He then tacks on, “That would be me,” as though Lex needs the reminder.

Lex tilts his head. “At least the title sounds important.”

“It’s more than a title, it’s an opportunity,” Lionel says enticingly. “It’s what you’ve been waiting for, ever since you came to Smallville.”

That much is true; or rather, it had been. “I’ll think about it,” Lex says cavalierly.

Lionel lets out yet another chuckle before holding a glove by the wrist and shaking it in front of Lex. “You want to keep me dangling so it looks like you’re granting me a favor instead of receiving one?”

Lex lets out a silent huff of a laugh at the ridiculousness on display. Clearly his father is in a mood – which means he needs to be careful. Lionel Luthor always has an ulterior motive, especially when the offer looks too good to be true, as it’s certain to benefit the man himself but not necessarily his son and heir.

Lionel leans down until he’s almost whispering in Lex’s ear. “We don’t need to play games, son.”

“Dad. Games are all we’ve got,” he points out with a quirk of his lips.

Lionel appears to be hurt by that; Lex knows better than to believe it.

***

Given Ryan’s claim that he doesn’t have a family, Clara thinks perhaps he’s in foster care where either his guardians or the other kids aren’t treating him well. If that’s the case, they should be named so that the proper parties can be punished and prevented from doing any further harm. However, since Ryan is still refusing to reveal what he knows, even when he’s obviously lying about not being able to remember, Clara calls for assistance in the form of Chloe. The blonde is more than happy to help, eager for a distraction, and she suggests they compare photos of Ryan against those of missing children in their county to see if they can find a match.

“We can broaden the search to the state and then national level if we need to,” Chloe tells her. She however warns, “It may take awhile though so the sooner I get his photo and get started, the better.”

Just as Clara is trying to figure out how to get Ryan over to the Torch office without tipping her hand, her mother mentions the Talon and he asks to visit since he wants to see all the construction.

“I can take him, Mom,” she offers. “And we can even make a pit stop to see Chloe.”

“Chloe?”

“One of my best friends,” Clara says with a fond smile.

Ryan thankfully agrees, and spends the ride to the school asking questions about both the Talon and Chloe. To Clara’s surprise, however, when they enter the Torch office, his gaze immediately locks onto the Wall of Weird. Given that he shouldn’t know that there’s anything odd about it in the first place and it’s too far away for him to be able to discern anything in detail, it’s strange to say the least. Her brows furrowing, she opens her mouth to ask when Chloe says in greeting, “Wow. So you’re like a modern-day Kaspar Hauser.”

Ryan turns to the blonde. “Who’s that?” he asks.

“Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to know,” Clara tells him. “Chloe’s the queen of obscure and irrelevant references.”

Chloe shoots her a mock glare. “He’s a kid from the 19th century with amnesia. He showed up in a German town one day without a memory of who he was. All he could remember was his name. How’s that for irrelevant?”

When Clara holds up her hands in acquiescence, Ryan asks, “What happened to him?”

“Well, his story spread throughout Europe and people from all over came to see if he was their missing child. Some people even thought he was the lost son of the Grand Duke,” Chloe tells him with relish, clearly excited to relay her factoids to an interested – and appreciative – audience.

“Did he ever find his parents?” Ryan eagerly asks.

Chloe freezes before saying with a hasty smile, clearly attempting to be reassuring, “Yeah, he did. Um, he found his parents and they lived happily ever after.”

His face falls. “Why didn’t you just say he was murdered?”

“How’d you… know that?” Chloe asks with a furrowed brow.

Ryan’s shoulders tense. Fearful he may bolt, Clara says, “You know, why don’t we take that picture?”

“What picture? You’re not putting me on that freak wall, are you?” he asks, clearly alarmed.

Even as Clara frowns, once again wondering just how he knows what the Wall of Weird even is, Chloe holds up the camera.

“It’s called the Wall of Weird, and no. This picture’s just to check against missing persons.” She snaps a photo of Ryan before he can react. “Okay, I’m gonna go download this and get right on it.”

“Thanks Chloe,” Clara says, before ushering Ryan out.

She can’t help but give Ryan and the Wall of Weird another look, however.

***

Clara had warned Ryan that with the Talon’s renovations being well underway, the place is a mess of equipment, people, and sounds of construction, but that seems to have only made the kid even more excited to see the place for himself. When she parks the family truck and gets out, she sees Lex’s black Ferrari parked out in front of the Talon. Smiling, she eagerly enters the building with Ryan in tow.

To Ryan’s disappointment, the only person inside is Lex since everyone else is off on their break. Lex looks up and greets Clara with a smile, though his brow quirks at the sight of Ryan. Leaving him to settle down on one of the only chairs in the building, she heads over to the counter where Lex is filling out some paperwork.

“Hey!”

“Hey. Who’s your young sidekick?”

“That’s Ryan. He’s staying with us until the day after tomorrow. Long story,” she adds, because she really doesn’t want to get into the whole thing just then.

Lex merely nods in acceptance and instead asks, “How does it feel having a little brother type figure in your life?”

“It’s pretty cool,” she admits. “You know how it is. Being an only child, no one else around.” She leans against the counter. “Don’t you ever wish you had a sibling? Someone to talk to, someone you could totally trust and would always be there for you?”

“I had one, Clara.” There’s something wistful and painful in Lex’s eyes that has Clara reaching for his hand before she can even think about it. “When I was eleven, my mother got pregnant again. It was a total surprise. I’d never seen my father happier. The day Julian was born was the only time I felt like I was part of a real family.”

“What happened?”

Lex looks away. “The morning of his baptism, my mother went to his nursery, found him in his crib. He’d stopped breathing.” He meets her sympathetic gaze. “My mother was never the same after that and my father got even more distant. I think he saw Julian as his second chance. A chance for him to have a son he could truly love.”

“I’m so sorry, Lex.”

He gives her hand a warm squeeze before letting go. “It’s in the past, Clara. We would have ended up hating each other anyway, my father would’ve seen to that.”

“You would’ve made an amazing big brother,” she says, and absolutely means it.

The warm expression in his eyes makes her blush. She clears her throat.

“Anyway, do you have anything for my mom you want me to take?”

Lex points to a box on the counter. “That right there. Thanks, Clara.”

“No problem. Keep an eye on Ryan for me while I go put this in the truck?”

He nods, his lips twitching. He heads over to where Ryan is sitting once Clara leaves the building.

“Warrior Angel. I’m a fan myself,” he says. When Ryan doesn’t say anything, he continues. “You’re Ryan. I’m-”

“Lex Luthor. Clara’s told me all about you.”

The way he says that makes it obvious he wants to seem as if he knows more than he does. Lex’s lips quirk up in clear amusement. “You know, I have one of the-”

“Original first-edition panels framed in your house.”

Lex pauses. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re rich. That’s what rich people do. Collect stuff.”

Lex gives a tilt of his head, unable to fault the kid’s point.

When Clara re-enters the Talon, he calls out, “Did you know that Ryan and I are both big Warrior Angel fans?”

She can’t hide her surprise at that. She hasn’t seen all the rooms in the mansion, of course, but she has examined every inch of the shelves in the library, and there aren’t any comic books or graphic novels present. And Lex isn’t the type to be ashamed of his interests – if he likes comic books, there would be comic books proudly displayed. “I didn’t know you like comic books.”

“A strange visitor from another planet who protects the weak? When I was young, he was my idol.”

Even as she feels a frisson of discomfort as that hits a little too close to home, Clara can’t help but give a small smile at that, the image of a child Lex in her head being far too adorable for words. She wonders if there are any photos online of Lex as a child, and reminds herself to search them out later.

He flicks the cover of the comic book Ryan is reading. “Not to mention the fact Warrior Angel is bald. I have the whole collection.”

“Maybe I can bring Ryan by later and we can check it out.”

Lex readily agrees. “Of course.”

“Would you like that, buddy?” she asks as she turns to Ryan.

“Whatever.” His tone is surly and he pointedly does not look up from his comic book.

“Whatever,” Lex echoes, smiling in amusement.

“Ryan,” Clara scolds, “you’re being rude to my friend. Now apologize to-”

“It’s alright, Clara,” Lex reassures, still smiling. “I’ll see you later.”

When Lex walks away, she frowns down at Ryan. “What’s with you?”

“Lex is going to leave, you know. His father offered him a new job.”

Her lips tighten in annoyance. “You don’t know Lex’s father. He would never do that.”

When he looks up at her in disagreement, Clara adds, “And I know it seems fun, but Ryan, you can’t just make up stories about people.”

Seeing him determinedly looking back down at his comic book, she sighs and reminds herself he’s just a kid. “Come on, we’d better get back to the farm.”

Ryan looks once more at the image of Warrior Angel ripping through a wall and saying, “You’re safe now,” before tucking the comic book away and following Clara back outside to the truck. He’s only taken a couple of steps out onto the sidewalk when his eyes widen and a worried – and frightened – look appears on his face. When he reluctantly turns around, he sees the familiar figure of his stepfather watching him.

Rather than hurrying towards the truck, Ryan runs away, making for the alley behind the Talon.

“Ryan!” Clara yells, but he doesn’t listen, instead sprinting even faster before diving into a dumpster to hide.

Ryan’s stepfather has followed him, but on hearing Clara’s calls for Ryan getting closer and seeing a garbage truck pulling up, he leaves, not wanting to be caught. Clara runs into the alley and looks around as the truck picks up the dumpster Ryan is hiding in to empty it. He falls out of the dumpster and into the back of the truck with the rest of the garbage, though thankfully he’s spared any injury due to all the garbage that’s already there breaking his fall. To his horror, however, the truck then starts to compact the garbage.

“Help! Help! Help!” he screams as the space around him starts to narrow and he finds himself being squished by all the garbage that’s pressing against him.

Hearing Ryan, Clara looks at the truck using her x-ray vision, and sees a small body flailing inside the trash compactor. She zips over and quickly pulls the hoses out from the side of the truck, stalling the gears and stopping Ryan from being crushed. She then climbs up the side of the truck until she’s able to peer into it. On seeing Ryan, whole and uninjured if terrified, she lets out a relieved breath even as she says, “It’s okay, Ryan. You’re safe now.”

Ryan just stares at her in wide-eyed surprise.

***

After dropping Ryan off at home so he can wash up and her parents can fuss over him, Clara joins Chloe near the woods on Route 90, hoping to see something that will let them determine his identity. Although Ryan had insisted he hadn’t meant to run away from Clara, it’s clear he’d been running – and hiding – from somebody. It baffles Clara that he’s refusing to reveal the culprit, and considering what had almost happened, they can no longer afford to just wait around until he tells them what’s really going on.

“My mom hit him somewhere around here,” she says, recalling that Martha had said something about a curve in the road. “Thanks for helping with the clue hunt, by the way.”

“And help solve the riddle of Ryan? It’s my pleasure.”

“It really is a riddle.” When Chloe looks over, she informs her, “He doesn’t have amnesia.”

Chloe stops and looks at her with a furrowed brow. “Clara, the kid clearly adores you guys. Why would he lie?”

“Because he’s running from somebody. And given what Ryan has said about having done terrible things, probably for a good reason.”

Chloe opens her mouth to ask a question when her gaze snags on something on the ground.

“I found something,” she says, and picks up a blue backpack hidden among the foliage by the side of the road. She opens it and they look through its contents.

“Comic books and Twizzlers. Something every growing boy needs,” the blonde remarks with a smile.

Clara, who had been using telescopic vision, doesn’t quite manage to turn it off in time and sees the carefully sewn seam at the front of the bag. She rips it open and pulls out a photo.

Seeing the strange look Chloe shoots her, she tries to act natural. “What? That’s where I would hide something.”

“If you were a CIA operative, sure,” Chloe remarks. Seeing a smiling blonde woman embracing a happy-looking Ryan from behind, she asks, “Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. Mom? Aunt?”

“The mystery deepens.” She bites her lip. “You know, I still can’t figure out how he knew that Kaspar Hauser was murdered.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly wearing a poker face,” Clara points out.

“Maybe, but jumping straight to murder? Hey, maybe he’s an alien or perhaps he called Miss Cleo.”

Clara’s just glad she hadn’t frozen when Chloe had said the word alien.

When Clara returns home, she’s surprised to see Lex waiting for her in the loft.

“I didn’t get an opportunity to tell you something earlier. My father paid me a visit yesterday and offered me a chance to return to Metropolis.”

“Did you tell Ryan about that?” Clara asks, though she can’t imagine why he would have.

Lex quirks an eyebrow. “You’re the first one I’ve told, Clara.”

Her brows furrow, before she shakes her head and focuses back on Lex rather than what seems like evidence of Ryan’s… powers? “Well, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To return to Metropolis?”

“I used to think it was. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Clara can’t help but feel happy hearing that.

“I was a different person there, a different person around my father,” he says almost musingly, before he seems to recall where he is. “He wants an answer tomorrow night, we’re having dinner in Metropolis. But I wanted to assure you – and your mother – that whatever my decision, the Talon won’t be affected.”

She wants to tell him to stay, but seeing the uncertain look in his eyes, she refrains, not wanting to put any pressure on him and sway him into staying, only to have him come to regret that decision and resent her for it. So instead, she gently squeezes his arm as she tells him, “If anyone can choose who they want to be, Lex, it’s you.”

Lex nods, before giving her a small smile and leaving the loft.

***

After dinner that evening, once Ryan goes to bed, Clara insists her parents join her in the barn. She x-rays the house to make sure Ryan is still in the guest bedroom before saying, “I think Ryan can read minds.”

“What? That’s crazy,” Jonathan says.

“Hear me out,” she tells them. “He was able to guess what you guys wanted for breakfast. Chloe was telling him about Kaspar Hauser, someone he had never even heard of before, but despite her attempts to lie about him being murdered, Ryan knew what had happened to him. He also knew about Chloe’s Wall of Weird even though he’s never even seen or heard of it before. And he also told me earlier today that Lionel had offered Lex a chance to return to Metropolis – a conversation Lex only just told me, and something he’s told no one else.”

Her parents exchange concerned glances before Jonathan exhales sharply. “Do you think he suspects…?”

“I don’t think he can read my mind. He wasn’t able to figure out what I wanted for breakfast, remember? And he said that it was peaceful being around me. I thought he meant I was just quiet or maybe easy to get along with, but I think it’s because he can’t read my thoughts.”

“So what do we do?” Martha asks.

“I’ll hide the ship where he can’t get to it for now in case he glimpses the storm cellar from your minds. As for you guys, just try and not think about me being an alien while you’re around him?”

That only makes her parents look even more worried.

***

The next morning, Lana stops by to see if Clara wants to hang out with her and to find out what’s been happening with the Talon. She hasn’t gone inside the building since the renovations have started, and although she would’ve happily offered design ideas had Clara asked, since she hasn’t, Lana is just as in the dark as everyone else in town, and she’s incredibly curious as to what the place is going to look like. Lana knows the Talon belongs to Lex now, but she still can’t help but feel a little proprietary over the place, and hopes Clara will indulge her.

And if she has an opportunity to talk with her about Whitney, well, that’ll be a nice bonus.

Jonathan hurriedly greets Lana before he heads out into the field, claiming he has work to do – which he does, sure, but mostly so he can be away from Ryan before he unknowingly gives up any secrets – and Martha smiles at Lana before asking her if she wants something to eat.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kent, but I’ve actually already eaten. Although a cup of coffee would be great,” she says with a grateful smile. Once she has a mug of coffee in front of her, she hesitantly asks, “Could you maybe tell me how the renovations are coming along at the Talon?”

“Of course!”

Martha is heading upstairs to fetch the mockups and the photos they’ve been taking to document the renovation process for Lana when Ryan makes his way out of the guest bedroom.

“Morning Ryan,” she says cheerfully, doing her best to think random thoughts. “Food’s on the table. Help yourself, okay?”

When he makes his way towards the dining table, he sees who must surely be the most beautiful girl in the world. Her friendly smile upon seeing him nearly makes him swoon.

“Hi, you must be Ryan!” Lana greets, seemingly not noticing his dumbstruck expression. “Nice to meet you!”

Ryan somehow manages to get a hold of himself for long enough to say, “Lana, right?”

“That’s right! How are you liking living with the Kents?”

The thought of them makes him smile. “They’re great!” Seeing her reaching for her cup of coffee, he hurriedly puts food on a plate and sits down at the table across from her. Before he takes a bite, however, he can’t help but ask, “Do you think it’s okay if friends have secrets?”

Lana’s lips quirk into a quizzical smile. “Strange question. Why do you ask?”

“Because I think Clara’s hiding something from me.”

She laughs. “Everybody has secrets, Ryan.”

“Really? What’s yours?” he eagerly asks, knowing she’ll think of it on hearing the question and wanting to know the answer.

Lana points out, “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret.”

He smiles, pleased with what he’s learned. “I guess you’re right.”

Any further questions are stalled by Martha’s return, and she and Lana eagerly go over what the Talon will look like once all the construction is complete. Although it’s not quite what Lana has envisioned – it’s far less opulent than what she’d figured a place owned by Lex Luthor would look like, for one – she can’t deny that the mockup still looks really impressive, simple and comfortable yet elegant at the same time, and honestly, she’s just happy the Talon is getting a second life now.

Lana delays for as long as she can, but when Clara still hasn’t returned from the field by the time the subject of renovations has been exhausted, she at last leaves to return home. Sensing Lana’s reluctance, Martha promises her that she’ll get Clara to give her a call later.

Ryan, seeing that he’s finally alone with Martha as she peels apples in the kitchen, tries to fish for some answers from her.

“Clara’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, isn’t she?” he asks.

“Yes, she is,” Martha says with a fond smile.

“She makes up for not being able to have your own kids.”

The odd conversation and the way Ryan knows things he should have no business knowing makes Martha recall the conversation with Clara the night before, about how Ryan can read people’s minds. She had hoped Clara had been overreacting because the sheer idea of it had seemed ridiculous – and completely intrusive – but now, hearing Ryan’s questions, she can’t help but think it must be true.

Seeing the sudden pallor of Ryan’s face, Martha knows Clara’s right. Ryan can indeed read minds.

“Ryan,” she says gently, reassuringly, when it looks like he may bolt, “it’s alright.”

Clara, who had been out in the field speeding through all the work she hasn’t been able to do since Ryan had arrived at the farm, has been listening to their conversation from the porch. Seeing him looking panicked, she decides to interrupt.

“Can you hear everything people think?” she asks as she enters through the kitchen door.

Ryan startles at her sudden appearance, which breaks through the alarm consuming him at the discovery they know the truth about his freakish ability. Realizing they aren’t acting any differently towards him, he slowly shakes his head.

“Only what’s on the surface. What they’re thinking at that moment. Except for you,” he says, looking directly at Clara. “I can’t read your mind. You’re different.”

Martha pointedly thinks to herself about needing to get the pie done before Ryan has to leave.

“Why do you do that? What are you hiding?” he demands of Martha.

Even as Martha continues to recite the recipe for the pie in her head, Clara sternly chastises him. “Ryan, stop it. Just because you can read someone’s mind doesn’t mean you have the right to hear them or are entitled to them. That’s their private information – it doesn’t belong to you.”

Ryan shakes his head. “Everywhere I go, I hear people’s thoughts. I can’t block it out anymore.” He roughly runs his hands down his face before gripping his head, as though trying to block out the thoughts he’s hearing. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be different. What it’s like to have to hide so people don’t think you’re… a freak.”

“Having powers doesn’t mean you’re a freak, Ryan,” Clara says reassuringly, aching for the poor kid so like herself. “Different, yes, but that’s not a bad thing.”

Given that she thinks she’s a freak – and has, in fact, called herself so many times before – it seems the height of hypocrisy to try and comfort him about what she herself doesn’t believe. Therefore, it doesn’t surprise her when he doesn’t even appear to be listening.

Rather than using words, she instead gently rubs his back until the tension in his body dissipates. Feeling like he’ll now be more receptive, she tries again. “Ryan, you may not be able to control whether you hear people’s thoughts or not, but just because you’re forced to hear them doesn’t mean you have the right to seek them out.” She lifts up the stack of comic books from his backpack. “Do you think it’s okay for someone to steal your comic books just because you’re reading them out in public?”

When he shakes his head, she says, “Right, because these comic books are yours. So just like these comic books belong to you even if other people can see and read them, people’s thoughts and secrets are their own and you’re not entitled to know them.”

At that, his expression turns to one of guilt. He looks up at Martha and says, “I’m sorry.”

She nods in acceptance of his apology but adds, “I can see how tempting it would be, having such a power, but Clara’s right, Ryan. A person’s thoughts are private and belong to them, unless they choose to share it with you. And if you do find out, however inadvertently, you shouldn’t tell other people because they aren’t yours to share.”

Seeing the thoughtful look on his face, Clara pulls out the photo from his backpack. “Is this your mother?”

He nods as he carefully holds the photo in his hands. “She died.”

“Ryan, why didn’t you tell us?” Martha asks.

“I was hoping I could start over with your family. You’re all so nice. I wanted you to adopt me like you did Clara so I’d be safe.”

“Who’s chasing you?” Clara gently asks.

“My stepfather and his new wife,” he finally confesses. “They’ve been using me, my abilities… to steal. I wanted to stop. But they threatened me. They hit me.” Tears start running down his cheeks. “You have to protect me, Clara! Please!”

Martha and Clara pull him into a tight embrace.

“We’ll keep you safe, I promise,” Clara tells him.

***

Now that she has the names of Ryan’s stepfather and his wife, Clara heads over to Chloe’s to find out more about them. She leaves Ryan behind at the farm with her parents, who decide to have a movie marathon with homemade popcorn. He and Jonathan are munching on popcorn while waiting for Martha to return from the bathroom when a knock is heard.

“I’ll get it,” Ryan volunteers and heads for the front door.

He’s surprised to see Debra, his stepfather’s wife, her hair tied back neatly and decked out in a smart-looking suit. Ryan tries to shut the door but she pushes her way in.

“You say anything and I’ll kill them.” She pulls back her trench coat and shows him the gun holstered at her waist. “You know I will.”

When footsteps are heard, Debra lets go of her coat, hiding the gun, and says to Ryan with a smile, “Ah, so you must be Ryan.”

“Can I help you?”

“Mr. Kent. Child Protective Services,” she says, flashing her fake credentials. “I’m here to pick up Ryan.”

Martha hurries over as Jonathan says, “Well you’re here early, aren’t you? We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

Debra brushes right past that, and instead says with a smile, “We can’t thank you enough for taking Ryan in.”

“It was our pleasure,” Martha chimes in and puts her hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “He’s welcome to stay longer.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s impossible. I need to put him in foster care. That’s the law,” Debra says sympathetically.

Martha nods and turns to Ryan. “Well, let’s get your stuff.”

As they head towards the kitchen for his coat and backpack, Jonathan warns the woman, “Uh, we think Ryan is running away from his abusive stepfather so we alerted the police.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep him safe,” she says, doing her best to maintain her smile despite the fury that roars through her at that. When Ryan and Martha appear, she asks brightly, “Ready to go?”

“Oh, could he wait a little longer and say goodbye to our daughter? She should be home any minute.”

“I’m sorry,” Debra says, shaking her head.

At the dismayed look on Martha’s face, Ryan says, “It’s okay, Mrs. Kent. Just tell her thanks.”

“If you need anything, just call us, okay?” With that Martha pulls him into a warm hug before she and Jonathan wave at them from the stoop as they drive away.

***

When Clara returns home once their research into Ryan’s stepfather is successful, she encounters a depressed atmosphere.

“What’s going on? Where’s Ryan?”

Jonathan sighs. “CPS came and took Ryan away about 15 minutes ago.”

“What? Why didn’t he wait for me? I wanted to say goodbye.”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Martha says, running her hand up and down Clara’s arm in an attempt at comfort. “She said she was in a hurry. I’m sorry.”

Hearing a car pull up, Clara peeks out only to see a limo. She heads outside and Lex opens the door before the car has even come to a complete stop. The driver still gets out, but he makes his way to the back of the limo, presumably to wait for Lex.

“On your way to Metropolis?” she asks, putting her hands in her jacket pockets.

“Yeah. The big dinner,” he says, clearly not looking forward to it. He looks down at the wrapped box he’s holding in his hands. “I, uh, I wanted you to have something.”

She can’t help her look of surprise when he extends it, and it doesn’t disappear when she opens it and pulls out an expensive-looking red silk cloth and a taser.

“What is this?” she asks, holding up the cloth which is almost long enough to trail to the ground.

“It’s a cape, Clara. Every hero has one.”

Clara can’t make herself look up at Lex. “I guess this means you’ve decided you’re leaving.”

“I haven’t made up my mind one way or the other,” he says.

She looks him in the eyes then. “If you haven’t made up your mind, why are you giving me a going-away present?”

“It’s not a going-away present and keep the taser away from the kid,” Lex replies.

“He’s already gone,” she glumly says.

Lex gives her a look of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know how much you liked him.”

Before he turns away, Clara tries for a Hail Mary. “For what it’s worth, I hope you stay.”

Lex smiles at her. “Thank you, Clara, but I already said that isn’t my going-away present. If and when I decide to leave Smallville, my gift to you will be just as valuable and important as you are to me.”

Clara is just grateful it’s nighttime so he can’t see her blush.

Lex walks back towards the limo, and the driver holds the door open for him. It’s only when the driver starts to walk back that Clara actually sees his face.

“You!” she shouts, loud enough to bring her parents outside. When he turns and makes to reach for something through the car window, Clara grabs the taser and fires it just as Lex opens the door.

“Mom, call 911! It’s Ryan’s stepfather!”

As Martha runs back into the house to do exactly that, Clara asks Lex, “How long has he been on your staff, Lex?”

“He’s not. He’s been sent by the car company my father uses to pick me up.”

Although he’s clearly down and no longer a threat, Jonathan still brings out his shotgun and cocks and aims at him at an angle that wouldn’t hit Clara or Lex should he be required to fire it as Clara tries her best to not flinch at the sound of the gun cocking. To distract herself, she peers into the opened window of the limo and sees the sawed-off shotgun lying on the passenger seat that he has undoubtedly used for his many robberies.

“Ethan’s on his way,” Martha informs them.

“What do you know about this guy, Clara?” Lex asks, nudging the leg with his foot.

“His name is James Gibson and he’s a career criminal who has a rap sheet that’s longer than my arm. He even killed someone at the last robbery he pulled with his new wife – I'm guessing the gun in the limo is the same one he used there.”

Once Sheriff Ethan arrives and takes him into custody, Lex turns to Clara.

“Thank you for saving my life, Clara. Again.”

She just smiles awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. “You’d better get to Metropolis if you want to make the dinner.”

He nods. “I’ll see you later, Clara,” he promises, before getting into a car one of his staff had driven over to the farm.

As the police take charge of the likely stolen limo, Jonathan asks, “Clara, do you have a picture of Ryan’s stepmother?”

“I don’t-” she freezes. “You think the woman from CPS-?”

“She was early,” Martha points out worriedly. “And in a hurry to leave.”

“And if he was here posing as Lex’s driver…”

Clara makes to head back into the house, then once out of sight, speeds her way towards Metropolis.

In the end, it’s easy enough to find them since their car is the only one idling on that stretch of road. A quick application of heat vision punctures all the tires, and when Debra gets out from the driver’s seat, trying to figure out what’s happened, Clara gently punches her in the jaw, knocking her unconscious.

“Ryan! You okay?”

He jumps into Clara’s arms and clutches her tightly.

“It’s okay, buddy. You’re safe now,” she reassures him. “I told you I’ll protect you, didn’t I?”

When Ryan gives a nod of his head but still refuses to let her go, Clara runs a soothing hand along his back. Once he calms down enough to release her, Clara checks over Debra’s pockets, and makes a sound of triumph on finding a cell phone in her coat pocket.

She reminds herself to see if she can convince her parents to get a cell phone since it’s so useful in case of emergencies. Besides, they can definitely afford it now.

After calling her parents to ask them to pick them up, she then dials 911 to summon the police to collect Debra and her car. She’s relieved to hear that the deputies are already on their way, Ryan’s stepfather having readily given his new wife up to the sheriff.

Seeing the approaching headlights, Clara ruffles Ryan’s hair. “Come on, let’s get you back to the farm.”

***

Lex had considered attending the dinner with his father even after he’d been almost kidnapped, but in the end, he decides to take the attempt to kidnap him as a sign and remains in Smallville. He’d been leaning towards staying in Smallville anyway, unwilling to go back to being under his father’s thumb. Besides, the potential of the meteor rocks are too good to just leave be, and in order to properly investigate it, he needs to be in Smallville and most definitely away from his father’s close supervision.

If the decision had ultimately been made after Clara had confessed to wanting him to stay in Smallville, well then, surely there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to be parted from his closest friend, is there? A friend with intriguing secrets that he’s determined to discover, which he can only do if he’s around her?

Of course, since Lex had skipped out on the dinner, he isn’t surprised to see Lionel once again making a grand entrance into his study the next day.

“Shouldn’t you be packing?”

Lex takes a sip of water. “I’m not going back to Metropolis.”

Lionel chuckles. “Come on, Lex. That’s all you’ve wanted since I assigned you to what you so eloquently refer to as the crap factory.”

“I know why you want me back,” he says, getting up from his desk and sauntering towards Lionel. “I’m driving you crazy, aren’t I? I’m not clubbing til 6 am, not getting arrested. I’m on track. That’s what scares you. You want me back where you can keep an eye on me.”

Lionel doesn’t deny his claims. Instead, he warns, “You’re making a mistake, Lex.”

Lex’s lips twitch. “You know what those emperors you’re so fond of talking about were really afraid of? That their sons would become successful and return to Rome at the head of their own army.”

“You think you can find your future in Smallville? I’m your future.” Lionel tries persuasion when that fails. “Join me, Lex. Join me in Metropolis. How long have you been waiting to hear me say those words?”

“I’ve waited to hear other things from you for a lot longer.”

When Lionel has nothing to say to that, Lex says, “I’ll return to Metropolis when I’m ready.”

“At the head of an army?”

Lex gives a small smile and pointedly doesn’t deny it. He heads out of his office, leaving Lionel staring at the wall.

***

“Hey, Lana,” Clara greets with a teasing smile at Ryan as they walk over towards the table she’s seated at in the Beanery. “Ryan would like to say goodbye.”

She doesn’t mention that Ryan had been satisfied with just calling Chloe to thank her but had insisted on saying farewell to Lana in person.

“Where are you going?”

“Edge City,” he answers.

Clara gives his shoulder a quick comforting squeeze. “Chloe’s research turned up an aunt who lives there. She’s coming by today.”

“Well then, it was lovely meeting you, Ryan,” Lana says, and kisses him on the cheek.

Clara bites her lip in an effort to not laugh at the way Ryan blushes and nearly falls backwards onto the seat behind him.

“Wow. Thank you.”

“I think you made his year,” she says to Lana, who bites back a smile.

Leaving Ryan to recover in peace, Clara joins Lana as she walks over to the counter to order herself another drink.

“So how are things with Whitney?”

Lana fidgets before finally blurting out, “After I got discharged from the hospital, Whitney paid more attention to me than he had in months. But now he’s back to being all distant again.”

“Well, maybe he’s just preoccupied now that his dad is finally home. Once he knows his dad’s recovery is real, you guys’ll be able to pick up things where you left off,” she suggests.

“Maybe,” Lana says doubtfully, before confessing with a sigh, “I think he wants to break up with me.”

“Or maybe you’re just worrying over nothing,” she points out. “Have you talked to him about it?”

When Lana shakes her head, she says, “Well then, maybe you should.”

“But what if I do and it annoys him and he breaks up with me?”

“You know Whitney isn’t the type to do that,” she says. When Lana sighs and nods in agreement, she advises, “Give him some more time for things to settle down for him at home before having your conversation. And even if it doesn’t go your way, wouldn’t it be better to know the truth rather than just continuing to worry?”

After giving Lana a reassuring smile, Clara returns to Ryan. “So, you recover yet?”

Ryan’s too happy to care about being teased. “I don’t know. But I’m definitely in love.”

Clara laughs.

***

The Kents and Ryan are standing on the porch as a car drives up.

“We’re really going to miss you, Ryan. It gets cold in Edge City, so I packed some of Jonathan’s old jackets. Something for you to grow into.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Kent.”

“You’re welcome around here any time you want,” Jonathan tells him again.