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Title:               Crisis II: The Healing
Author:          BabyDee1
Pairing:          Chlark/Kaloe

Rating:           PG for now, NC-17 later
Warnings:     Sequel to Crisis, which deals with disturbing themes
Timeline:       Season 2-3 (Exodus – Exile; Clark’s RedK Summer & beyond)
Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics 
Summary:     Following the devastating events of Crisis, Clark and Chloe attempt to rebuild their friendship against all odds.
Feedback:      …would be appreciated. :) Awesome banner by [ profile] ellashy

Read origin story, Crisis, from beginning to end.

Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.

Chapter 3

Jonathan brandished his rifle menacingly as Morgan Edge got into his damaged vehicle and started the engine, which by some miracle had survived the ordeal intact.  Chloe and Clark ventured outside as he drove off, and all three of them watched as the car disappeared down the dusty driveway. 

Only when it was out of shot did Chloe exhale loudly, unaware she’d even been holding her breath.  Jonathan visibly relaxed and lowered his gun, then turned to Clark.

“Mind telling me what that man was doing in my house?” he asked sternly. 

Clark swallowed.  “Morgan Edge, he…he paid me to retrieve something from Lionel’s safe, but I never handed it over to him.”

“So you stole?”

Clark nodded.

“From Lionel?”

Another nod.

“Because Edge paid you to?”

Clark lowered his head.  “Yes, sir.  But I never handed the package over to him.”

Jonathan gave him a withering look.  “What exactly was it that you stole?” 

“I’m not really sure; I haven’t opened it.”

“So, you stole something from one criminal on behalf of another criminal, without even knowing or caring what it was?” Jonathan asked incredulously.  “What is wrong with you, Clark?  I mean, I get that you were in a bad place at the time, but even then, the sheer stupidity of that decision…” he shook his head in disbelief. 

“I know how it sounds, and I deeply regret it,” Clark replied.  “And I had a hunch that something odd was going on.  That’s why I never gave it to him.”

“Has it occurred to you that this might be one of the reasons why Lionel is so hell-bent on digging up dirt about this family?” Jonathan asked, annoyed. 

“If he has surveillance cameras on his property, it’s not too much of a stretch to think you might have been seen, Clark,” Chloe added, her voice gentler than his father’s. 

“I don’t think so; I was careful.  Although…”

“Yes…?” his father prompted. 

Clark took a deep breath.  “Lionel had kryptonite in the safe, right behind the box I was told to pick up.  It knocked me out for a little bit.” 

Jonathan paled.  “Jesus…” 

“Clark, do you think whatever’s in that box may be connected to the meteor shower?” Chloe asked.  “Because if it is, then it’s most likely to be directly connected to you.” 

Clark gulped.  “It’s a possibility.” 

“Especially since we know for sure that he was in Smallville on the day the meteor shower hit.”  He turned to Clark.  “So this thing you stole; where is it now?” 

“Come with me.”  He led them towards the barn. 

“You kept it here, on my property?” Jonathan said, scandalised.  “For all we know, it could be connected to a violent crime!  You’ve potentially put us all in very grave danger, Clark.  To say I’m disappointed in you is a massive understatement.” 

“I’m so sorry, Dad.” 

“Whatever. Just… just get it.”

Clark retrieved the box from underneath the barn floorboards and held it out to his father.  Jonathan folded his arms and stared at the object in Clark’s hands. 

“Can you see through it?” Chloe asked. 

Clark shook his head.  “No; I tried already.  The casing must be lead-based.”  He looked hesitantly at his father.  “Should I…?”

“Go ahead; open it.” 

Clark cracked the hermetic seal, and all three of them peered cautiously into the case which contained what appeared to be a vial of blood.  There was no name on it, nor any official hospital stamp; just a handwritten date which Chloe recognised immediately.

“Why does that date look familiar?” Jonathan wondered aloud. 

“Because it’s the day Clark got sick and had to be hospitalised,” Chloe said quietly. 

Jonathan nodded.  “That’s right; your mother, too.”  He looked up in alarm.  “Helen Bryce took a sample of your blood when we brought you in.”

“You think this is it?” Clark asked nervously. 

Chloe’s hand tightened on the box in her pocket.  “There’s only one way to find out.” 


Clark stood at a safe distance while Chloe and his father held the green rock against the vial.  Chloe’s eyes widened in shock as the rock took on an eerie green glow; the dark fluid simmered in the bottle, then bubbled ferociously until it looked like it was boiling. 

Chloe covered her mouth in horror. To think that she had subjected Clark to that level of torture filled her with shame and regret. 

Jonathan nodded grimly.  “It’s your blood, alright.”  His hand tightened angrily on the slim cylinder, and before either Clark or Chloe could react, he flung it against the far wall, where it crashed and spilled its contents all over the hay-strewn ground.  


“I have no idea how Lionel got hold of it, or why Morgan Edge wants it,” he said tightly, “…but they are damn well not getting their hands on it.”  He stormed past them and headed off into the house. 

“He really shouldn’t have done that,” Chloe mused. 

“But if they come back for it, I don’t want them to have it.”

“I agree, but not like this.  What we should have done is wash out your sample and replace it with someone else’s.  They’d never have been the wiser.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Clark said with a sigh. 

Chloe shrugged.  “What’s done is done, I guess.  Let’s just hope you scared him off for good.” 


“So, your father tells me you got involved with Morgan Edge whilst you were in Metropolis,” his mother said.  She handed his a freshly-washed dinner dish to dry.   “Care to tell me how that came about?”

Clark took the dish, his face grim.  “I got spotted using my powers.  Edge found that useful and offered me money if I carried out certain jobs for him.” 

“And now he knows where you live,” his mother said quietly, her tone fearful.

“I don’t think he’ll turn me in, though; I have incriminating information on him that the police would be happy to have.”

“And vice versa.” Martha sighed.  “I guess we’re at an uneasy stalemate for now, but you’ve called his bluff and something tells me that he’s not the type to scare easily.”

“I’ll be careful Mom; I promise.”  He paused.  “Dad’s really mad at me, isn’t he?”

“He understands that your situation over the summer was… unique,” she said carefully.  “But it doesn’t make it easier to bear.  You know his moral standards are higher than those of most, and given that he’s raised you to be a morally upstanding young man, he expected that you’d be… more resistant to the lure of a hedonistic lifestyle.  But he’ll come around; just give him time.” 


To be continued…
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