FicWad

There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me

Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win

Now I'm towing my car, there's a hole in the roof
My possessions are causing me suspicion but there's no proof
In the paper today tales of war and of waste
But you turn right over to the T.V. page


Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win

--Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House, written by Neil and Tim Finn, this version performed by Sixpence None The Richer

There had been complete silence in the car for the remainder of the trip as each girl was left to her own thoughts. Both were nervous as they pulled up the long gravel drive to the Kent farm. The car rolled in and stopped outside of the barn. Everything seemed normal outside. A peaceful breeze from the south fields brought with it the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay and the sound of birds twittering to themselves in the trees. Even still, something seemed out of place.
Chloe took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Alright, I'll go up to the house and talk to the Kents, see if they know where Clark is," she said. "You check the barn, but be careful." Lana nodded and the two girls exited the vehicle and made their way to the indicated destinations.

As she made her way up the walk to the house, Chloe took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She knew she had a tendency to talk too fast and too much when she was nervous, and she didn't want to give the Kents the impression that something was wrong. She climbed the short flight of porch steps one at a time and knocked softly on the kitchen door.

A middle-aged woman with graying red hair answered with a warm smile on her face. "Hello, Chloe! How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and motherly.

Chloe smiled back. "Much better, thank you, Mrs. Kent," she answered politely. She wasn't trying to seem rude or curt, but... "Um, have you seen Clark anywhere? I was wanting to get an interview for the Torch about the whole ordeal from his point of view, since I can't remember a thing." She laughed a little nervously and mentally slapped herself for beginning to ramble.

Martha Kent shook her head and frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen him all day. But he might be in the loft. You could check if you'd like."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kent," Chloe said, smiling again and nodding. The older woman gave her another warm smile before going back inside the house.

Jogging down the porch steps, Chloe picked up her pace to a brisk walk on her way to the barn. Hopefully Lana had found something, and hopefully had not gotten hurt in the process. When she entered the barn door, she caught sight of the dark-haired girl on her way up the stairs to the loft after having executed a thorough search of the ground floor. She was just at the foot of the stairs herself when she heard Lana's scream from the top.

"Oh my gosh! Chloe? Chloe, get up here!"

Chloe sprinted up the two flights of stairs, stopping short at the sight in front of her. Lana stood right next to her. Several feet in front of them was Clark, lying on his back, looking unconscious and sick. His breathing was low and shallow, his face a sickly pale color. The blood in the veins of his arms seemed to pulse slowly with a deadly green poison.

Lana rushed up the last two steps of the raised loft floor and knelt next to him. She pressed a hand to his face and found it feverishly hot. Cold sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead. "He's burning up," she whispered. "Chloe, what's wrong with him?"

Frozen in place, the blonde reporter simply shook her head, stuttering while trying to come up with a plausible answer. Time seemed to drag on unbearably long in the face of this. "Uh, well, does he... does he still... have the stone in his pocket?" she asked at last. "Maybe he's having some kind of allergic reaction to... being exposed to it for so long... or something."

Lana moved her hand to his chest and reached into his shirt pocket. She could feel nothing there except, of course, his unconscious body beneath her fingers, and his slowly beating heart. "No, it must have fallen out," she said, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact with her room mate. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Do you think he might have done this to himself? Maybe he blamed himself for what happened this morning?"

"It's a possibility." Chloe knelt down on the other side of the dying young man and studied him intently. Glancing at the meteor rock, her eyes snapped up to meet tear-filled hazel ones. "It's the meteor rock. The green one," she said firmly.

"How do you know that?" Lana asked curiously, raising her eyes to meet her friend's and pulling a lock of raven hair behind her ear.

Chloe stood up and moved to a small, empty lead box that lay on the floor, speaking as she went. "Pete punched him outside the Talon with one. Knocked him out cold."

The lead box was open and on its side as if it had fallen or been dropped.

"He must be allergic to them or something. I wonder if this lead box might block the effects," she added quietly, picking up the box and turning it over in her hand.

"It's worth a try," Lana said, picking up the rock as she stood. Chloe held out the box and she dropped the fist-sized fragment into it, quickly snapping the lid shut with a click.

Clark's chest heaved and his back arched up off the floor as his lungs sucked in desperately-needed oxygen with an audible gasp of air, as if whatever invisible band had previously constricted his breathing had been suddenly removed. The sickly paleness drained from his face, and his skin returned to its normal color, yet he remained unconscious. "Lana, go get his parents," Chloe whispered urgently.

Lana acted immediately, racing down the loft stairs and out the barn door. She tore across the yard to the house, yelling at the top of her lungs for the Kents. Ok, don't panic/, she told herself. /Don't panic, just hurry. Oh, gosh, I just can't lose him!

Chloe set the lead box down on the desk and went back to Clark's side. Her fingers softly caressed his face, still damp with sweat but no longer so warm to the touch. He didn't stir.

"You blamed yourself for all this, didn't you Clark?" She knew he probably couldn't hear her, but she needed to talk to keep herself calm. "Why did you do it? It wasn't your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine."

She fell silent as she heard footsteps and voices outside the barn.

"He's up in the loft," Lana's urgent voice came drifting up the stairs, leading the way into the barn. Jonathan Kent followed, his wife close behind. "We don't know what happened," she went on, walking quickly as possible towards the stairs. "He was lying on the floor when we found him."

"What do you mean we?" Jonathan asked sternly, coming to a dead halt.

The dark-haired girl reminded herself before she got offended that he was only being protective of his son. "Chloe's up there with him right now," she said calmly. "He and I had... an argument at the Talon this morning, and I felt really bad about it later, so Chloe and I came to see if he was alright. We just wanted to talk with him, that's all." Why, oh why was she being so defensive? They hadn't done anything. But she felt as if she might just as well have.

The farmer eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing more as they continued hurriedly up the stairs.