Chlark Fanfic: Crisis, Chapter 22

[babydee1]

 

This is a very weird chapter.  Why, you ask?
 
Simple: it came from all of You.  :-)

 
First of all there were very valid questions raised about the good ol’ can of worms that is Clark + Hospitals = VERY BAD FOR THE KENTS (thanks, jacques!), so I had to find a way to wriggle out of that. 
 
Then I wanted to be sure that Lionel was still kept in the dark about Clark’s secret, so I slotted that in too, with the added advantage that it’s a great lead-in to the following chapter.
 
Finally, I spent about half an hour staring at the banner, and by the time I was done, the final Chlark scene just sorta wrote itself. 
 
So there you go, everyone.  Bonus chapter in the house!
 
Enjoy.  Mild angst warning. But y’all can handle it. ;-)
 
…I’ll shut up now. :-P
 
 

Title:              Crisis
Author:          BabyDee
Pairing:          Chlark/Kaloe
Rating:           NC-17 (this chapter PG-13)
Warnings:     Angst   
Timeline:      Season 2-3 (Exodus – Exile; Clark’s RedK Summer & beyond)
Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics 
Summary:     A violent encounter between Chloe and Clark threatens to destroy their friendship forever.
Feedback:      …is love.  :-)  
 
Banner by doomedxdream. Thanks again! :-)
 
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
 
 
Chapter 22
 
 
“Are you sure you’re alright, Sir?” 
 
“I’m fine,” Clark assured the paramedic that had hurried him to Metropolis General Hospital.  “Really, I am.”
 
The young man regarded him dubiously.  “Sir, you vomited and passed out less than half an hour ago.  I really don’t feel comfortable discharging you based on your say so.” 
 
Clark rolled his eyes.  “Look, you can ask anyone that was in that elevator with me: it got stuck, and I panicked.  Simple.  That’s all that happened.  Medically, I’m as fit as a fiddle.” 
 
The suspicious paramedic studied him with narrowed eyes, and Clark managed not to squirm under his gaze.  His heart pounded so loudly he was sure the other man could hear it. 
 
Damn it, Clark thought bitterly.  For someone who lied to the world everyday, he was egregiously bad at it. 
 
The young medic consulted the thin file of medical history notes in his hands with a frown.  “It doesn’t say here that you’re claustrophobic.” 
 
“That’s because I didn’t know that I was until today!” Clark replied, exasperated.  God, where was a lazy pencil-pusher when he needed one? 
 
The paramedic shut the file and secured the ambulance.  “Please come with me, sir,” he said, and ushering him towards the sliding doors of the hospital entrance.  “I’ll be fully convinced once I’ve run a full medical evaluation.”
 
Oh, crap.  Of all the paramedics in the world that could have attended him, he’d gotten the one person that was determined to do things by the book. 
 
“Look, I really need to get back to school, so if you won’t discharge me, can I just discharge myself?” he asked desperately as they reached the hospital doors. 
 
“That won’t be necessary,” said a familiar voice behind him.  Clark whirled round, surprised and relieved beyond words to see a smiling Lex walking towards him. 
 
“Lex!” he exclaimed. 
 
Lex nodded at him with a relieved look on his own face.  “Good to see you back on your feet, Clark.  You had us worried.” 
 
“Mr Luthor,” said the paramedic with a friendly grin.  He pointed his pen at Lex’s head.  “I trust you won’t be needing your usual Suite today?”
 
“Knock it off, Ferris,” Lex replied dryly, as the man laughed. He turned to Clark.  “Ferris here is what I like to call my own personal physician.  He must have treated at least three of my head-wounds in the last six months.” 
 
“So you’re acquainted with Mr Kent, sir?” Ferris asked. 
 
Lex nodded.  “Clark’s a dear friend of mine.  I was there when he keeled over, so I followed the ambulance to make sure he was okay.”  He gave Clark a quick examining glance.  “Yeah, you’re fine.  Ready to go?”
 
Clark heaved a sigh of relief.  “Almost; I’m just waiting to be discharged.” 
 
“I still need to give you a thorough check-up to be sure you’re okay, Mr Kent,” Ferris pointed out.  But Lex quickly laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. 
 
“No need to overreact, Ferris; he just had a claustrophobic attack, but he’s over it,” he said smoothly.  “Besides, you look beat.  Shouldn’t your shift be over by now?” 
 
Ferris grimaced.  “It should be, sir, but I’m working a double-shift today.  The second this week, mind you,” he added thickly. 
 
“Ouch.  I can’t imagine Cora’s too happy with that,” Lex demurred.
 
Ferris sighed sadly. “She isn’t.  I’ve had to cancel our anniversary dinner twice, and she’s running out of patience.” 
 
“Then don’t waste your time creating more paperwork for yourself with a needless check-up,” Lex said with a wink as he slipped a wad of notes discreetly into the young man’s pocket.  “Not when you could be treating your long-suffering girlfriend to a three-course meal at one of the best restaurants in town.” 
 
“That does sound pretty tempting,” Ferris admitted hesitantly.  “But-”
 
“Clark’s fine,” Lex insisted with a reassuring smile.  “I’ll take him back to Smallville myself, and if he so much as sneezes, I’ll bring him straight back here.” 
 
***
 
Lex was an excellent liar.  Within minutes, Clark’s elusive discharge papers had been processed, and he was free as a bird.  Shortly afterward, he and Lex were seated in the Ferrari and heading towards Smallville.
 
“I appreciate all your help today, Lex, but you didn’t have to come after me,” Clark said as they sped along. 
 
“Actually I did; it’s standard Luthorcorp procedure,” Lex replied.  “Any person who gets sick or injured on company grounds needs to have a senior employee escort them to the hospital.  I decided to fill in.” 
 
“That’s very kind of you, Lex.  Thank you,” he said warmly. 
 
Lex shrugged.  “Better me than a total stranger, I figured.” 
 
“True.” 
 
They drove for about five minutes in complete silence.  Then: 
 
“So what really happened in that elevator, Clark?” he asked, glancing across at him with a steely gaze.
 
Clark swallowed nervously.  “I had a claustrophobic attack, like you said,” he lied. 
 
Lex’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel and he smiled wryly.  “Of course you did.  You gonna tell your parents about it?”
 
Clark shifted in his seat.  “I’d rather not worry them, to be honest,” he said warily. 
 
Lex shrugged again.  “Suit yourself.” 
 
***
 
“What do you mean, you didn’t escort Kent to the hospital?” Lionel said dangerously enunciating each word to a terrified employee.  “I told you to take him there myself!”
 
“Mr Luthor, I…I was all set to follow him but then Mr Luthor – the other Mr Luthor, sir, the younger one – he appeared and said he would personally take care of the Kent boy, sir,” replied the stammering, trembling man. 
 
“And you didn’t think to tell him you had direct orders from me to follow the ambulance?” Lionel roared, a blood vessel threatening to rupture on the side of his neck. 
 
The man gulped.  “With all due respect sir…he’s your son.  I didn’t think it wise to question him.” 
 
Lionel clenched his fists and fumed, but he could see where that might have been awkward. 
 
“Fine,” he grated and turned towards his desk.  “Fetch me the security feed from that elevator.  I want to know what happened in there to make him sick.” 
 
The hapless man stared in stark fear and started to shake violently.  “Um…Sir?  That was also retrieved by your son, sir,” he said haltingly.  “He said he would deliver it to you personally.” 
 
Lionel froze on the spot and grated his teeth together until they threatened to crack under the pressure.  “I see,” he finally hissed between said clenched teeth.  “Leave my office, Withers.” 
 
Withers needed no second bidding.  He fled as fast as if he’d just escaped the jaws of a very hungry, very angry lion. 
 
As soon as the door closed, Lionel thumped his hand on the desk in frustration. 
 
Lex had bested him yet again.  Somehow, when it came to Clark Kent, his son was always one step ahead of him. 
 
Lionel sighed wearily.  He’d considered Lex too mentally damaged from his island experience to be any substantial threat to him, or any real addition to his business, hence his haste in re-establishing him back at Luthorcorp in a shiny new office with a trumped-up job title. 
 
But he’d underestimated his son.  Clearly, Lex was doing a lot more at his desk than just sharpening pencils. 
 
Something had happened in that elevator that was connected to Clark and his eccentricities, and Lionel was determined to find out exactly what that was.  Unfortunately, Lex was now in possession of the only video feed that contained that information.  He could demand that Lex hand it over, but that would be useless.  Lex was a Luthor, after all; Lionel would bet his bottom dollar that the feed would have been watched, analysed and severely edited before it landed in his clutches. 
 
He sat in his plush leather chair with a harsh sigh.  Very well.  He may have lost this battle, but there was no way he was giving up on his quest for the truth about the farmboy’s origins.  It was most unfortunate that the charming Miss Sullivan was no longer in his employ; she would have been a very useful ally in that quest. 
 
Lionel folded his hands and his eyes narrowed in a cold smile.  She’d been bitterly frustrated today, at the presentation;  Her father had been without work now for over a month, and the purse-strings were no doubt beginning to tighten rather painfully. 
 
A new plan began to hatch in his brain, and his grin widened.  Perhaps it was time to raise the stakes a notch.  It was possible the young Miss Sullivan could still be swayed to the smart side with the right…motivation. 
 
***
 
“You get a clean bill of health from me, kid,” said the jolly school nurse as she signed off his hospital discharge papers and handed him a clearance slip at school the following day.  “I’ll tell you what I told the last claustrophobic person I came across – next time, take the stairs.” 
 
Clark smiled and thanked her.  Despite seeming satisfied with the hospital report, she’d still insisted on peering down his throat and looking into his eyes and ears with a bright light before finally sending him back to class.
 
He walked along the corridor, slowing as he approached the Torch.  Cautiously he peeped in and saw her standing solemnly at the mock-up board, fitting an article for the cover of tomorrow’s school paper. 
 
He sighed.  She looked so alone.  Granted, she often worked alone, but then it had been by choice; now it was due to necessity.  Lana may not have been the best friend to Chloe, but at least she’d been there for every now and then, and it must have been nice to have had female company at home as well.  But now she had no-one.  There was no Lana, and no Pete…and more importantly, no him. 
 
She’d been sorry for hurting him yesterday; he knew it.  The look in her face as he’d lain in agony on the floor and her softly spoken words had given him hope; not just hope that he might survive the crippling pain, but also hope that there was still a tiny part of her that cared about him, and wanted to forgive him. 
 
He took a deep breath and ducked out of sight, leaning heavily against the doorframe.  Yesterday had been, without a doubt, the most physically painful day of his life.  But if seeing him nearly die was what it would take for Chloe to trust him again, then he’d go through a thousand near-deaths in a heartbeat.  Whatever pain she decided to throw at him, he would bear, as long as it would eventually heal her soul. 
 
He glanced into the room again and saw her placing another page on the mock-up board with one hand, whilst balancing a third page and a cup of coffee in the other.  Some things never changed, he thought with a wistful smile.  Chloe was always so determined to struggle with things on her own rather than ask anyone for help. 
 
“Need a hand?” he offered softly, stepping into the room.   
 
Startled, she jumped back, dropping both her coffee and the sheet of paper she’d been holding in her left hand.  Automatically the right one hovered over her trouser pocket, and she stared at him in fear, then defiance. 
 
Clark’s heart sank, and his slim thread of hope began to fade.  For a second there, he’d completely forgotten about the issues that had separated them, so desperate was he to try and claw back some semblance of normalcy. 
 
But she hadn’t forgiven him.  Worse, she was still afraid of him.  The stark terror that had filled her eyes the second she’d heard his voice and the way her hand flew to its kryptonite refuge was all the evidence he needed. 
 
Whenever she looked at him, she saw a rapist.  And as far as he was willing to go to convince her otherwise, there wasn’t anything he could do to change that. 
 
Carefully she composed herself and went back to what she was doing, focusing her gaze on her board and ignoring him completely.  He stood there for a few minutes, watching her, trying to think of something, anything he could say that would ease her troubled mind and convincer her that he would rather die than ever again do anything to harm her. 
 
His intense stare must have unnerved her because she trembled slightly and swallowed hard.  Slowly she took the lead box out of her pocket and placed it on the edge of the mock-up board.  She didn’t open it…but she didn’t have to.  Her message was clear:  Stay away from me. 
 
The last thing he wanted to do was scare her, which is what he was doing by simply being around her.  He got to his feet and left, closing his eyes tightly against the sting of tears that threatened to fall. 
 
***
 
   Chapter 23   … http://babydee1.livejournal.com/136298.html 

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