The Memoirs

Clark was a child of the eighties. Sure, he hadn't lived on Earth during the eighties, sure, he didn't have any of the toys and stuff... but he was a child of the eighties.

Rod Stewart said so.

April in Smallville was beautiful. Every year it was the same… the March rains passed off to the east where those damn Yankees had made up the 'April showers bring May flowers' bit, and April bloomed like a spring rose. Flowers, trees, life. There was romance in the air, happiness in the air, and everywhere he looked it was like the gray opening up to reveal the golden yellow of the earth.

Clark was, of course, in his element. Itchy to be outside to let the sun graze his skin, out where he could dance in it and play in it and enjoy it.

Though, of course, Clark also had work to do.

Dressed in loose jeans, flip flops, and a sunny yellow t-shirt, Clark pushed himself from one side of the desk to the other in the desk chair. He was... coming up with exactly nil, but who could blame him? it was all but singing outside, and he was cooped up inside, working.

Not that he could call being head editor and head journalist of the Torch work.

He was having the time of his life. The first issue had been a little rocky, but the second one had been amazing. He'd redone the layout with nifty crow clip art he'd dug out of the internet, changed the format around, and made a website for the thing. He'd spent an entire Saturday cataloguing all of the past issues, meticulously filed on Chloe's computer, into the website, and in doing so had freed over half of her ram up.

Not that he knew anything about computers. Pete had told him so, so whatever.

He was stumped. He had to write an article as in today for tomorrow's issue, and he was... totally lost. He wanted something catchy, something nice, but he was coming up with zilch. Who could blame him, anyway? The last month had been the purest hell on earth.

They'd buried Whitney's mom on a raining Saturday morning. Eerily reminiscent of his dad's funeral, actually. They'd buried her remains, and remains were all that was left, and Whitney... Clark had never seen his ashimel look and feel like that. The tears, the gut wrenching sobs that had torn out of him, had torn his soul apart and glued it back together in a way that Clark knew he'd never experience again. His ashimel hurt, and Clark hurt because of it, but there was nothing at all he could do to help him but hold him, love him, hug him, and be there.

And all he saw for his ashimel was rocky roads ahead, because he still didn't know about Chloe's pregnancy. Chloe was three months along, already showing, but he didnt know. Clark wished them the best of luck, and to guide them the best ways he could, but their was nothing left he could do but watch and hope it would work out in the end.

Dominic and his brother weren't talking. period. A week or two before, Clark had had to rip them apart from killing each other, and Clark wished for Toni and Lionel's sakes that they'd quit it. Their was only so much stain master could do.

Clark's belly got warm, fuzzy from where it had clenched, in thought of his beautiful aushna'. His aushna' and his psychic abilities. Heee! They were having such a great time figuring out how to play with them, how to stretch them out and see what was there. Every night they'd practice, see what they could do, and Clark had never been more thrilled in his life. To have a lover who matched him just overjoyed him.

He was still without a story.

Fuck.

"Peeeete."

"'he fuck you want." Muttered, from under a book bag. He was taking a fuckin' nap, how many times did he have to say?

"Story. I need a story." Clark swung his chair pointing at his sleeping friend, propping his legs up on the side of the desk. He'd repositioned everything so it was easier to get around the room, and damn that was nice. "Peeeete. Help!"

"Fuck. You."

Chloe had been avoiding the Torch office all day. Her first day back at school since the suspension, and it had felt so strange not to head to the office first thing. She had tried, but Reynolds had changed the locks, apparently, because her key no longer worked to the door.

Clark hadn't given her a copy of the new key, and that made her swallow down the lump in her throat and just cling tighter to Whitney's arm as they'd gone to classes. They were so behind now it wasn't funny, and Whitney just didn't seem to care. He'd accepted each assignment with apathy and shoved it into his backpack, not even caring if it went into the right spot or not.

She was terrified to tell him about the baby; she couldn't stand the thought of him not reacting, not caring that they'd created this life growing inside of her, and he hadn't seemed to notice that she was starting to show, starting to put on just a little bit of weight.

Now, though, Whitney was in senior math, and she had study hall, and she stopped outside of the newspaper office door, and peered in the little window.

Nothing was the way she'd left it, and she knocked timidly on the door.

Clark looked up, let out a cry of joy, and tumbled backwards out of his chair.

And Pete just about busted his ass laughing. He let out a howl, hooting with laughter as he stumbled to his feet, hands on his knees as Clarks face peered up, red and glaring, and just laughed all the harder as he went and opened the door, cracking up as he hugged Chloe. "Dude, that was fucking comedy gold. Hey, baby, come on in."

"Hi, Chloe." Clark just blushed harder, wincing as he climbed to his feet, coughed, and grinned as he rubbed his fingers through his short hair. It had grown the teeniest bit but that was all, and he was prone to loving it short like this as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a great big bear hug. "How are you? Come on, come in, ignore the sniggering idiot in the corner."

"Hey." She returned Clark's hug tightly, and sidled into the office carefully. Even the Wall of Weird was gone, probably relegated into the filing cabinets or tossed in the trash.

It was surprising, to say the least.

"You've done wonders with the place, Clark."

The coolest thing about his aushna's newfound power was that he was threaded more deeply with Chloe and Whitney. In it, it was a curse, and a gift, at the same time. And he saw her eyes flicker, felt her anger, and smiled at her as he motioned at Pete. "Bring it down."

"Bitchin'." Pete reached up and jumped until he snagged the cord hanging from the ceiling, tugging the so called tapestry of weird down. He and Clark had stuck it all on a huge roll-down slide only a few weeks ago, and he explained as he hooked the cord under his shoe. "Reynolds wanted us to chunk it. We told him to go fuck himself, and he threatened to put that nerd Warrus in here, so Clark and I... improvised. Like?"

She beamed. Couldn't help it; even if she wasn't responsible for the paper any more, at least for the rest of this year, it was still a little bit of home. "I love it, guys. It's so great."

Clark grinned. "We've still got to find a way to hook it down without letting Reynolds know, but there ya go, anyway. Come on, sit down ash--" A soft cough. "And take a look at what we've done. We're working on issue three... I saved the first two I did for you to look over." He had them sitting in a folder on the extremely, disgustingly organized and catalogued desk, and he offered it with a hopeful beam. "Where's Whitney?"

She picked up the folder and clutched it tightly to her chest. "He's in math class; I'm going to meet him afterwards. I'm still worried about him, Clark. It's just... it's like he doesn't care about anything. He just goes through, takes the assignments, puts them in his backpack, and doesn't even... I don't know. Acknowledge anything."

"He's still working through everything, Chloe." Clark answered it, tenderly, and stroked her cheek softly. "He'll be alright. We'll be here for him, and we'll help him. Don't worry, okay?" He wrapped his arm around her. "Come on. We'll go get some chocolate milk. Want?"

"I know that wasn't directed at me but damn yo, can't say no to chocolate milk. I'd like the chocolate milk in my girlfriend's navel so I could lick it off like a cat, but I think I can survive."

"That was possibly the grossest image ever. Thanks, Pete."

"Welcome!" Cheerfully.

She shook her head no. "Thanks, but... not in the chocolate milk mood right now." She absently stroked her belly once. "You guys go ahead. I'll, uh, I'll hang back and get caught up on what's going on in the back issues." She held the folder up weakly.

"Okay." Clark smiled at her, but sensed she was not quite herself, and motioned Pete along. "Dude, go get us some stuff, lemme talk to Chloe alone."

"But--"

"Go."

"B--"

"Pete."

Something in Clark's tone had Pete nodding, and he muttered as he grabbed his backpack and moseyed on out the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Clark gently stroked his fingers over Chloe's face and kissed her. Pressed his lips against hers, once, twice, three times, and set their foreheads together gently. "Tell me, ashikana."

Chloe returned the kisses softly, and stroked her hands through Clark's short hair. "I'm just... I'm worried about Whitney. He doesn't even know about the baby yet, he's not... he's not talking to anyone, not even me, and he's always just... sort of there. Taking up space. But... not." Her hands tightened on the folder. I want to hate you for doing better than me.

"He will be better soon, ashikana. But is that all that's bothering you? Really?" Clark stroked his fingers through his hair before bringing her in close to his body, sliding down into the chair behind the desk and pulling her into his lap. "I missed you, so much. School was weird without you and Whitney."

"I missed you guys too, I missed you so much." She leaned her head back against his broad shoulder. "I missed you and Lex, I missed Pete and Shayla, and it's strange now. It's strange to come back, and I hate it at the same time I'm glad, because I know everyone is looking at me and thinking, God, there goes the slut, she made it one of the new houses! and I'm glad to be back because it's slightly normal but it's not!"

"Ignore it. Take it from me--what people have to say comes from jealousy. I'm a 6'5 faggot who's dating Lex Luthor. You don't think I get talk? of course I do. I ignore it, and I'm happy, and I'm respected for it. So ignore it, be happy, and go about your life, Chloe. You have more to deal with than a bunch of people. Who gives a flying fuck about them, anyway?" He rubbed a thumb tenderly over her cheekbone. "You have the five of us, and we love you. You don't need anything else."

"It's not just that, Clark. I mean... I used to not care. Really. Because I had the Torch. I had my paper, I had my niche, and as long as I was behind this door, nothing could get to me because I was safe here, because this was me. My creation, who I was, and now, I don't even have that. It's not even that anymore. It's yours now, and it's different, and it's better, and I hate you for it, but I know it's not your fault."

The words surprised him… had his eyes widening and shock lacing through his brain. What? "I knew I shouldn't have… Chloe, I'm so sorry. It is yours, baby, its yours. I just... I was trying to help, to make things easier to work with. I got it all up on the internet, I... I was trying to help. I'm so sorry, for... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't, it's just... dammit!" She reached for the box of tissues on her--on Clark's desk and blotted her eyes. "It's not that. I just... I'm weepy. I'm worried. It's not you, okay? I don't really hate you. It's just... weird, okay?"

"I took away what you loved." His chest was tight, and yeah, maybe he was panicking, but this was his ashikana. "I'm so sorry. You can have it back, have it all back. I just got excited, I didn't mean... didn't mean for you to feel like this, Chloe. You still work here, this is still yours, I'm just keeping your seat warm, remember?"

"You didn't take it away, Clark, I gave it to you, remember? I just... I wasn't expecting all this. I wasn't thinking you'd change it and make it your own, but it's okay that you have." She scrubbed at her eyes again. "I'm sorry I said anything."

"No, don't feel sorry. You're mine and I'm yours, and I hurt you without intending. I was just trying to make what you had nice, so when you came back you'd be happy. I didn't… think you'd get upset, and I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm sorry. I didn't think, because I was so excited, I didn't think and I hurt your feelings. Your are the last person I want to hurt, Chloe. You are special in my heart, you are my first woman, my only woman, and I love you. I'm so sorry."

Chloe turned around in Clark's lap, careful of her growing stomach, and put her arms around his waist. "No, I just... it's just one of the five million things that's thrown me for a loop today. That's all. Gut reaction. It's really nice, Clark. I mean that."

"But you hurt. I feel it, I'm not dumb." He dragged her close, hugging her tenderly and gently, stroking his fingers up and down her back. "You're scared, and you have this new life, and I never, never ever intended for you to feel alienated from this place too."

"It's not your fault, Clark." But it was. "It's not. You weren't the one who made the mistake, and you weren't the one who said I couldn't have it anymore. That was Reynolds."

His fingers were running aimlessly up and down her back as the panic grew. He could feel what she felt and his throat all but closed, jaw grinding tightly as he hugged her close to him. "I'm so sorry. I don't think... I hurt the people I love. I'm sorry."

"Clark, please. Stop. It's okay. I can't--stop apologizing, please. It's. Okay. The paper is yours now; I just gotta get used to that. And I will, all right? It's not your fault, you don't have to keep saying you're sorry."

Now she was angry. DAMMIT! But he nodded, swallowing again and pulling away to look at her as the shame lit his heart. He buried it, deep, to dwell on later as he helped her to her feet, rising along with her and swallowing. "I'll... I'll go get some milk with Pete. You can stay, do whatever you like. The computers.." Now, as he spoke, he realized his error and he only felt worse. "Have a new OS installed, Windows XP. Pete installed a bunch more... whatever, so that its fast."

"Wait a second." Chloe fumbled her keys out of her pocket, and sorted through them for a minute. "Here. This, uh, this was my key to the office, but uh, it doesn't work anymore. The locks were changed, I guess." She handed him another key. "And this was the backup key, for the copy room, with the copy machines and all that. You should have it now, cause, you're going to be the one responsible for that." She felt like she was tearing off little bits of her heart and soul to put in Clark's hands.

"I know." he took the keys, throat bobbing. "I made… copies. One for me, one for Pete, and one for you." He opened the desk drawer and took them out, handing them over to her. "The third one is for the back door of the building, so at night it can be locked. if one of us stays late."

"I can't take those, Clark. If Reynolds finds out you're handing out keys to the building, you'll be the one getting kicked out of school next, and you can't have that happen. You, um, you gotta be careful." She swallowed hard, and couldn't quite look up at him. "You can't get in trouble like I did."

"You're on my journalism staff, Chloe." Clark answered it, just as quietly. "You're in Chief Computer something something, Reynolds wrote it down. We all write, but you take care of the computer stuff, cause I don't really know it. If... if you want it, anyway."

She nodded. It was going to kill her, but she wanted it. "Yeah. Yeah, I do want it." She closed her hands around not just the keys, but his hand too. "I want it very much."

He swallowed again, harder, and wrapped his fingers around hers. He never thought the day would come where he hurt his ashikana, but he had, and it was bad. "I love you, Chloe. I'm sorry for being...a guy."

"I love you, Clark. You're a guy, but you're my guy. My best guy, outside of Whitney." She squeezed, and then hugged him with her other arm.

"Okay." He hugged her again, tightly, and let go so she had keys and folder in hand. "You sure you don't want in on chocolate milk?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. Chocolate's not sitting too well with me these days." A wan smile.

"I know. You made me barf the other day. You've got to quit that." Waggled finger at her as he stepped around her, pushing back into his sandals so they wouldn't fall off and rubbed a hand over his belly as he opened the heavy door. "Be back soon, Chloe."

"I'll be here," she said, crooking her finger and shaking the waggling one. "Sorry about the barf thing!" she called out.

"Bull!" he called back, but he offered a little smile at her as he closed the door behind him.

- = - = -

Whitney just accepted the assignments from when he was out without a word. Didn't complain about how much there was, didn't worry about how far behind he was. He wasn't even bothered by the fact that had understood nothing about today's class review for the test next week. He'd missed the entire unit, and he couldn't find it in himself to give a rat's ass about Pythagoras, his theorems, or how they fit into word problems.

Biology was next, and he sighed. It was only the fifth class of the day, one more after this, and then he could go. Not home, but... back to the Sullivan house. He didn't know which filled him with more dread; two more classes, or going back to the house.

Maybe he could find a way to get lost between now and then.

He wasn't watching where he was going, and he almost plowed into a little girl only half his height. "Sorry."

"Watch out, you big stupid son of a--" Shayla cut herself off when she realized who'd plowed into her. "Whitney! You're back!!" She dropped her bookbag down on the floor and jumped up, hugging him around the neck. "Clark didn't tell us you were coming back today!"

"I wish I got hello's like that." Muttered from behind her. "But noooo. All I get are long stares and snorts." Pete snickered and shook Whitney's hand hard. "Man, its nice to see you back here. Schools been boring as fuck since ya'll left. Just Shay and me, cause Clarks got his ass up into the journalism department. Dude, we lost the big game against the Alligators last week. Pity, man, pity. Ain't been the same since you left. ...Babbling. Shuttin' up."

Whitney tried to dredge up a smile and just... couldn't. It wasn't there. "Couldn't have helped; not on the team anymore," he said quietly.

Shayla bent over to pick up her bookbag and delivered a swift kick to her boyfriend's shin. "Smooth move, jackass." Then she bestowed a sunny grin on Whitney. "Come on, big guy. Wanna walk me into class? Show everybody you're back in style?" The way she latched onto his arm made it clear that she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"That's what I meant!" Pete yelled back, and kicked her in the butt with the side of one boot as he glared. He took her backpack from her, looping it on his shoulder right his own, and followed. "God, you're such an insufferable butthead sometimes. Its too fuckin' bad how much I adore you, blondie." he tugged on a lock of her hair as he followed them.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too." She rubbed her butt where he kicked her. "You're going to have to kiss that and make it better tonight," she sniffled, letting him take her backpack as she nudged Whitney with her shoulder. "How's the homework sitch?"

Whitney shrugged as they walked into class. "I got everything I missed while I was out, what Clark and you guys didn't bring me home, anyway."

"Think you can handle it all?"

"Doesn't matter," he said softly, and he untangled his arm from hers as he stopped by her desk. "I'll see you after class, okay?" He put his bookbag down on his chair, and went to the front of the classroom, where the teacher was standing, to get his assignments.

Shayla looked over at her boyfriend. "This ain't good."

"No. It ain't." Pete answered back quietly, and handed back her book bag as he slumped into the chair beside Whitney's. "Don't harass him too much, Shay. He's been through a lot...we'll help him with the homework." He whispered it across to her. "Talk to Chloe about smuggling it to us, and we'll get it done. Got most of the assignments back, we can copy um over.'

"Not tryin' to harass him," she said softly. "I'm tryin' to cheer him up. It hurts not seein' him smile like he used to. Whit's... always been the pillar, you know? We've all had our traumas and our dramas, and he's always sort of been the rock. He never lost his cool or anything. And now it's weird to see him not like that."

"He lost his ma, Shay. I can't even imagine what he's goin' through. Lets keep a low brow, and see what we can do, babe."

"I can't either." She hunkered down unhappily in her seat. She didn't like not being able to fix things

Pete looked up and offered a big smile as Whitney came back to sit down, and would have said more if a yellow blur hadn't raced past him and plunked down into his seat a half a second before the bell rang. Pete just snickered at Clark, panting in his seat, and rose a brow at him as he realized what he was seeing on Clark was just-kissed swollen lips.

Oh man he was going to tease him later.

Running to LuthorCorp and running back in ten minutes had been a challenge. One, because he'd ran there, made out with his lover for nine minutes, and raced back. Seconds away from the late bell ringing and he'd hunkered down in his chair, panting, and then gave a big smile to the teachers glare. Heeeeeee.

Chloe was already tucked away in the desk beside Clark, near the back of the class so nobody would be able to see more of her than they absolutely had to. She had been watching Whitney like a hawk as he'd collected the biology assignments, shoved them into his backpack too, and then opened his book and stared at it like he didn't know what he was looking at.

Whitney had the book open on the desk to the right page, even as the late bell rang. He couldn't have hoped to have told anyone what was actually on the page, but at least it looked like he was following along and caring.

Clark just beamed, and since they were all sitting in the back of the class anyway, reached across and gently skimmed the backs of his fingers over Whitney's shoulder blade, tenderly stroking for a moment until he looked at him.

Pete caught it. He'd been cataloguing this for quite some time, and their daily run of notes started as he pulled out a piece of notebook paper and scrawled to his girlfriend, The fuck is going on between Whit and Clark? Clark cheating on Lex? I know you know, so dish.

Whitney turned his head to look at his friend, at his Clark, and then turned his attention--what there was of it--back to the book on his desk.

Shayla caught the note, and bit her lip. I plead the fifth; nothin' to see, move it along... I'll never tell. Then she tossed it back.

Clark frowned, so softly, when Whitney did nothing but acknowledge his existence, and gently stroked for a moment more before pulling his hand back and looking at his own book, open to the wrong page, on the desk.

Bull. Shit. Somethin' is going ON between them, and I KNOW you know because you and Chloe are in kahoots! So tell, or...no sex! Ever! Again!

Pete... seriously. I don't know anything. She really, really hoped God wasn't in the mood to strike down bald-face liars, cause she was going to be serious Senatori toast. And I know you can't hold out. She did a quick little pornographic sketch, and tossed the note back.

Whitney kept staring at his book, then shifted his desk a little closer to Clark's, so that they were sitting a little closer together than before.

Bullshit you don't know anything, and don't try to tempt me with your penis drawings! It won't work! Just tell me, please?

Oh. Clark scooted his own a little closer too, though not too close incase Whitney didn't want to, and stroked his fingers over his shoulder once more with a little swallow. He was supposed to be reading along but didn't give a fuck, because the teacher had her favorites and always called on them.

Shit. Don't say please. Fuck. Okay. Yes. I do know. But I've been sworn to secrecy. Cause it's odd and nobody will understand cause it's a CK thing.

Whitney looked up, just a little, when Clark scooted his desk over, and nodded softly. That was close enough; just enough to feel Clark around him, and he settled back in the chair, listening to the reading.

He swallowed, deeply, coughing a little bit and nodding as he looked down at his own book.

Please, Shay? Please? I know Clark's a you know what, and I know all he can do… I'm just wondering where Whitney and Chloe fit into it. I won't tell anyone, I promise. I hate being out of the loop.

Shit. Shit, shit. Okay. Chloe and Whitney are like... they're not exactly swingin' with Clark and Lex, but they have this thing, Clark does anyway, that since he bonded with Lex, he needed what Chloe called some fuckin' unpronounceable word that means like, life friend. And now they're bonded to Clark and Lex, and Clark and Whitney have this thing going on, and she has it with Lex. She tapped the note. Rip this up after you read it, kay? Start a new page.

Holy fuck. Chloe and Whitney were fucking with Clark and Lex? Pete wouldn't call the shiver in his heart jealousy, no. Well, maybe a little bit of jealousy. Maybe a lot of jealousy, cause yeah, Clark was a fine specimen of man lurve. But he didn't mention that, or think too much about it, as he crumpled the paper and stuffed it into his pocket to be shredded up later. For now he started a new page, smiling at the teacher when she glared at him, and scribbled. So you're telling me they fuck? Or are they just friends? Because if C, C, W and L are fucking, then HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME?!

They fuck. And, nobody told you cause it's supposed to be a secret. Nobody knows but the four of them, and Chloe told me while we were talking one night. Tossed back on a clean sheet.

I should start making my own secrets. This bites. No one ever tells me anything.

I tell you stuff all the time. Just not stuff I've been sworn to SECRECY about! She printed it in huge caps, to get her point across.

I didn't mean you. I meant in general. Have an aneurysm, why don't you. I'm pretty sure you left half your pen in the desk.

A snicker as he tossed it back to her with the stealthy stealthness needed for note passing.

Kiss my ass, smart mouth. She drew another little sketch of a butt doing a boppy bounce across the top of the page. Clark's been the only one gettin' through to Whitney at all, and it's only cause of this thing between them or whatever.

That's good, for the both of them. Chloe, too. He know she's pregnant yet?

Except Pete wasn't a hundred percent sure she was, but he could tell. She'd taken to wearing big blouses and dresses, and once when they'd been hanging out eating pizza, he'd seen the outline of her belly. So, wild guess in the dark, but his girlfriend, blessed child she was, stumbled sometimes and that's how he got his information out of her.

No he doesn't know and how the FUCK do you????????

HAH! HAHAH! He was right! Damn he was good. You told me.

I most certainly did not.

Yes you did, babe, just now.

She glared at him. I meant before that, jackass!!!

He gave her his best smile back. I'd guessed. She's wearing big clothes, eating like a horse, got a belly. Don't take no rocket scientist, baby. Just dunno why she hasn't told W yet.

Another glare. Hello, have you met Whitney lately? Do you really think he's in any shape to know about a baby comin' his way???

Course not, but in another few months she isn't going to be able to hide it anymore. And if I were in Whitney's place, I'd want you to tell me you were pregnant, no matter what.

Don't worry. I'm not. But come on. Whit's got a lot on his mind right now, and addin' that ain't gonna do a lotta good, y'know?

I know you're not, but thanks for the relief off my mind, stick girl.

Said with a loving grin. But still. I vote she does it soon, 'fore he feels betrayed she didn't tell him.

Yeah, I know, but I'm backin' Chloe on this one, big surprise. She tells him now, he ain't gonna care. Don't blame her a bit for not wantin' that.

I know, but I also know Whit, Shay. No matter how hard he's hurtin', no matter how deep its gone, he won't be angry. It might be what he needs to get outta the funk.

Pete scribbled it back quickly, and slid it under her book as the teacher turned to look at him.

"Mr. Ross."

"Hi!" Scattered snickers across the classroom.

Ms. Houston rolled her eyes around and pinned him with a long suffering smile. "Please, continue on."

"....With?"

"The reading."

"Oh!" Cough. "Yes. Of course." He started to read, cause he'd already counted out the paragraphs and counted out who had already gone and numbered each paragraph in his book, so he wouldn't have to listen. But he started on the correct one, reading quickly and only getting stuck on a word or two.

Shayla couldn't help snickering at him and sticking her tongue out as she sat back in her seat, making the occasional note in her notebook--just enough so it would look like she was paying attention even though she'd already aced this unit in Vancouver last year.

Whitney rolled his eyes, and sent a single-line note to Clark, scribbled in his spidery handwriting. Can you make her not call on me next?

Clark blinked in surprise when the note fell on his desk. He'd been scribbling along in his fic, enthralled with it, and he blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment when he realized the note was from Whitney. He took it immediately and wrote, in red pen because he'd lost all his others, I don't think she will. She doesn't like me, and doesn't like you by default baby.

Good,  was all he wrote back. He wished he could just leave, in the middle of class, and go... just, somewhere not here. he had no idea what Pete was reading about, didn't care about being in the middle of the unit, didn't give a shit about anything, really.

Clark took the letter back, looking at it for a moment, before writing back. I love you, Whitney.

Whitney took the note, and gave a soft little chuckle. I know, Clark. I love you, too. He skipped a line. When is Chloe going to tell me about the baby?

Now it was Clarks turn to go into a round of coughs and sputters, hacking away as his entire body tingled with holy FUCK! He swallowed, blinking at Pete's glare back at him, and motioned a hand to the class as he kept coughing for a moment, and wrote back, How? What? Huh? Murhpgh?

I'm not stupid, Clark. I have eyes.

I know you do, but...crap. I KNEW this was going to fall on me.

It's not going to fall on you, Clark. I just wondered if you knew when she planned on telling me, if at all. I'm not mad, or anything.

Clark bit his lip as he accepted the note back, setting it over Adrian and Emily making love on the notebook pages and peered at the letter for a moment. She doesn't want to add something to your already full plate. Its for her to tell you, though, not me. She didn't want to upset you anymore. But I can, and will tell you, she's so happy over it that when she tells me everything's going fine her eyes cross with joy. She just doesn't want to add to what you've got already.

Whitney flicked a look back at his quiet girlfriend for a second, and then turned back to the note, starting to write again.

I'm glad that she's happy about it, Clark. I really am. I wish I could be. And I will be, I know. Because it's what I've always wanted. I just... can't be happy right now about anything. I'm alive, so what? Tell her... tell her for me that I know, and that it's okay.

No. I won't tell her any such thing--you will, when she's ready to tell you. Because if she knows you're not anything over it, you're going to lose her, Whitney. She's pregnant with your baby, and she loves you so much it hurts, I know.

He paused for a moment, chewing on his pen. I've been where you are. You wish you were dead, you wish you could be happy about anything, but all you feel is an empty abyss, waiting to suck you in. I know. You don't have to tell me for me to know. It will pass, Whitney, its just going to take time. I won't lie. It'll stay with you for the rest of your life. But you will learn to live again, and you will enjoy the things in your life again. Just give it time. Grieve, ashimel.

I am grieving, Clark. I feel like I haven't done anything but grieve this last year. My dad, the baby, now my mom? I haven't done anything BUT grieve, and it's losing it's effectiveness!

Clark looked at the letter for a long moment. Tell me. What I can do. Tell me, ashimel, and I'll do it for you.

Kill me. Make it stop hurting. That's what you can do.

The words hurt him like a knife to the heart, and Clarks chest heaved for a long moment. I won't kill you. You are ashimel, you are Arensa-El. You are strong. You'll beat this, you'll go on, and you'll come out strong, so strong, stronger than me, at the end. You are El. Do you understand? Clark didn't notice the symbols across the page when he handed it back, so pained and angry as he was.

Whitney studied the symbols, had no idea what they meant other than Clark was upset, and he tucked them safely in the back of his book so nobody could take them or see them. I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't understand the writing, but I know it means you're upset. Don't be. I'm just tired, that's all. Tired of hurting.

What? No matter. We hurt for you, all of us. I will make it better for you in any way, but spare Chloe until you're well. Don't tell her anything, Whitney, because her entire heart is riding on this. Make one more sacrifice, and wait. She's your mate, your chosen life's mate, because I can see it. If it goes wrong... I don't want you to have that emptiness for the rest of your life. I love you, Ashimel, and I want the best and the most for you. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop what happened from happening. Let me help you.

Okay, Clark. I love you; I trust you. I'll wait.

The simple words were more powerful than the long. Will you spend the night with Lex and I?

If they'll let me. Chloe and her father, they've been letting me stay with them.

I know. I'll ask Chloe, and call Gabe and tell him. I want you to sleep with Lex and I tonight.

Whitney needed the protection and the love his sha'nauch could give. Chloe can come, if you want her to. If not, it will just be us. I know she won't mind.

He was torn. On one hand, he didn't want to leave Chloe out, but on the other hand, he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for all of them, so close, all night long. I don't know about Chloe... you decide.

Its your choice, ashimel. I know you might need a breather from her, because as much as I adore her, I know she can smother.

She's just been trying... to make sure I'm all right.

I know

. This time, though, Clark smiled a little. Doesn't mean she's not a pain in the ass when she wants to be. When I lost Mar, she was my shadow for at least a week, before I finally told her if she didn't leave me alone I was going to strangle her and hang her up on the eaves like blond Christmas lights.

Did it work? I love her, I just... sometimes, I'd like to be left alone. That's all. Because I can't stand this constant fussing. It's just... more of a reminder, every second.

It did. Seriously, I sat her down and told her....look. I know you're trying to help, but having you behind me, trying to help, sucks. I need time to heal. I love you, but I can love you from over there, too. You don't have to fuss, I'm alright. And she stopped. She understood what she was doing and took a step back, and we got closer for it.

A soft sigh. But I can't tell her that. Not after everything that she and her dad have done for me. Clark... I just want to go home. Go home to my mom making waffles and eggs and fresh orange juice, and worry about football practice running late. But Chloe... she doesn't get that. She doesn't get that I want to be left alone sometimes, just to stare at the ceiling and think.

Her brain is different. She thinks to help she's got to be right there. I think she might feel helpless

. Clark glanced at the clock idly, before back down. Just explain to her that you need some down time, to grieve. She'll understand, believe me.

If she thinks she feels helpless... Clark, I can't tell her that.

You have to. For your sanity, ashimel. Tell her you need down time, and I promise you she'll understand.

No, I mean... I can't tell her that. I can't hurt her feelings that way.

Then I will. If you want me to, I'll be more than okay with it. Clark wrote it back, quickly. She's already ticked off at me.

Would you? And why is she ticked off with you?

Clark lifted his head to look at her, for a moment. Because I redesigned the Torch. She wasn't expecting it, and I'm an idiot. I just haven't felt this good about something in a long time, and you know me.

You're not an idiot. I mean, she gave it up. She had to, but she gave it up.

It doesn't really matter right now. I'll let her know, and tonight… will you lay with us? We can watch movies, order a pizza and get some beer.

Yeah. I'll lay with you and Lex tonight. I... I need you, Clark. It just hurts so much, and you make it go away. No... no violent movie, please.

Definitely not. Pointless retarded comedies. Or! Maybe Queer as Folk. I love that show.

That sounds great. Pointless comedy and gay TV.

Can't go wrong. Jennifer Aniston and boys smooching boys

. He looked up again. Few minutes before the bell rang, and he discreetly ran his fingers over the back of Whitney's hair, gently stroking for a moment before handing the note back.

Whitney closed his eyes and just let the slid of fingers over his hair calm him down, because it was Clark, his Clark, and he just tucked the second note into his book behind the first and looked down at his text as the next student quickly finished reading, and the teacher started to rattle off the night's homework assignment.

Clark had heard Pete and Shayla whispering as he'd run down the hall about doing Whitney's work for him, and Clark was most definitely up the task. When his ashimel came over for the night, he'd escape for fifteen minutes and do it all for him. Wouldn't take long, not long at all, and he gently thumbed the back of a warm shoulder before shutting his book, carefully closing his notebook, and setting both to the side with his red pen.

"Ever tell you how much I hate this place?" Whitney asked in a soft whisper.

"Feel lucky. At least you didn't read all the books in fifteen minutes at the beginning of the year." Clark whispered back, eyebrow raised as a dweeby grin crossed his face.

"That was stupid." The bell rang, and Whitney closed his book, shoving it into his bookbag as he got up out of the desk. "Christ. I'm going to go; I am not feeling up to one more class."

"Stay. Please?" Clark implored quietly, eyes begging quietly. "Stay. You can come hang out with me at the Talon while I work, if you want. Do some of your homework."

Whitney shook his head. "I don't care about the homework, Clark," he said softly. "Just... don't care at all."

His throat burned. "I don't want you to have t--"

"Hi, baby." Chloe said softly, gazing up at him from under Clark's arm. She'd watched them pass notes and had been both jealous and joyous. If Whitney was talking to somebody, anybody, that made her happy.

"Hey, Chloe." Whitney raked his bangs out of his face as he looked down at her.

She shifted, a little. "I'm... going to go get a snack, before sixth. Want anything?" Asked quietly, eyes shifting up to him.

"No, but thank you. I'm not hungry." He put his hand on her shoulder, briefly, then let it drop. "I'm good."

"Okay." A swallow and she nodded, slipping past him to meet up with Shay. Their arms linked and she walked out with her, hugging her tightly to her.

Pete just sighed, stuffing the notes of the day in his pockets, and looked up at his mountainous friends. "History. Come on, guys, then we're done for the day and I don't know 'bout ya'll, but I'd give my left nut for it to be Saturday. I fuckin' hate school."

Shayla hugged her friend's shoulders tightly as they left, and she shot a warning glare back towards Pete to keep his mouth shut.

"Yeah. I'm with you on that." Whitney shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't want to go to the next class, but he was finding himself herded along anyway. "I'm ready to go home and not come back."

"You remember, dude. Not to quote Buffy too directly, but, you flunk out of school and you'll end up being the guy at the pizza place that sweeps the floor and says, "Hey kids, where are the cool parties this weekend?" And man, ain't no worser fate."

"Yeah, one to talk, 'worser'." Clark rolled his eyes and grabbed his stuff, hitching a jean leg up a little so he wouldn't trip over it and motioned for them to come along as he started out towards history.

"You're joking, right? I mean, I've got so much shit backlogged on me that I'm never going to get caught up, I've got a house that I've got to keep up and I'm not even livin' in it, and I don't even want to THINK about what's been going on at Fordman's since the funeral!" It was the longest sentence he'd spoken in a month. "What makes you think I'm going to have time for anything, including parties!??"

Everyone around them was in complete silence, and Pete stared up at him for a moment, eyebrows knit. "Just a joke, man. Didn't mean it the way it came off. Sorry, dude."

Clark winced, visibly, and looked at his ashimel and Pete. Crap. "Come on, Whitney."

"No!" Whitney yelled it, and didn't care that he was making an ass out of himself. "I'm not! I'm not coming along, I'm not going along, I'm not being herded along like a cow anymore, dammit! I don't. Want. To go. And I'm not going."

Ashimel! You will stop, right now! Clark thundered it in his mind so loudly he was almost sure everyone else heard him, but he was for DAMN sure Whitney did. He normally didn't reach out, not for the most extraneous of ordeals, because it took a lot out of him, but his anger was hot and he was quick to speak. You will conduct yourself of El and STOP this, RIGHT NOW! I know you grieve, but Pete has done nothing, this school has done nothing, and you will behave of the honor that has been bestowed on you!

Whitney snarled in the back of his head, but didn't say anything as he snapped his jaw shut, staring sullenly back at Clark, arms across his chest

You. Are. El. And you will behave and conduct yourself as one, are we completely understood and clear? Clark snarled back, and he was pissed as he snagged Whitney's arm and tugged him towards the Torch. Pete stood, staring behind them, as Clark dragged his ashimel into the room with a snarl.

Whitney's eyes were flashing angrily as the door slammed shut behind them, and he growled deep in his throat as he glared at Clark.

Clark snarled right back, snapping at him as he pointed to the cough pushed up by the hanging tarp of weird, and snarled again as he slammed his books on top of the desk to hard everything rattled. He was pissed, so much, because his sha'nauch, his ashimel had just disgraced himself, and there was nothing, nothing more important than honor. He had striven for honor when Mar had died and he would be damned if Whitney wouldn't strive for honor now.

Whitney threw himself onto the couch and bared his teeth slightly at his lover, a growl accompanying it. "It's my business what I do! And I don't want to go to that fucking class, then I won't."

"It is not your business, it is our business. You are me, I am you, and don't you ever forget that again!" Clark snarled back, louder and meaner. "You will go to class because if not you'll be kicked out of school and what Pete said, what your friend said, is right--you will end up without a job, without money, without anything! Your child is coming in five months, your son or your daughter, and you, you have to be a man and accept that! Accept what fate gave you because if not, you'll lose your mind."

"I don't care if I get kicked out of school!" Whitney shouted back. "I don't care about a goddamned thing!! I am alone, now, Clark, and while you've maybe had time to get used to that fact, I haven't! I don't care about class. I don't care about math, or history, or biology, or anything else! I have a house, a business, a load of crap from the insurance agencies, and I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about any of it! School, right now, is so far down on my list, I could piss on it!"

It infuriated him, desperately, and he could feel his aushna' trying to help but he just shoved him back. He didn't want Lex to feel his anger right now, which was on the verge of fury. "What, then? You won't graduate, you won't get a job, you won't be able to run Fordman's, you'll lose the business your father sweat and bled for, you'll lose your legacy, you'll lose Chloe, you'll lose the respect and honor of your name? Yes, that sounds perfectly fine and acceptable to me."

"You don't get it, Clark. You don't." Whitney just... suddenly deflated. "I don't care. I don't care what happens now. I just... I want it to happen and it be over."

"You think I don't? I do. I get it more than you'll ever understand." He stepped forward, then, anger still making his nostrils flare even as his conscious stamped it down. "I know exactly how it feels like, every moment and every day, feeling that pain. I know it. I know what its like to be alone, to feel alone, and to lose something you put so much hope and love in. I know exactly what it feels like. But let me tell you now, and let me make something clear. You cannot stop living, Whitney. I tried, like fuck, to let myself die, but Lex wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let me leave him alone. You have to accept that there are people, three people first of all, who count on you and love you as deeply as anything. Even if you want to give up on yourself, you can't. There are too many people who love you and count on you to be there. You can't fall apart, Whitney. I won't let you."

"I'm already falling apart," he confessed. "I just want it done."

He wanted to scream and rage, bellow that he was El, that El's didn't give up, but he could see none of it was getting through, and he just... he climbed up to sit beside him on the couch, and dragged him close to hold him tenderly to his chest. "I know. I know you do."

Whitney just left his head on Clark's chest and sobbed quietly. "I just don't know what to do, Clark. There's just so much. So much to do and I can't even think of half of it yet. I need help, and I don't even know what I need help with!"

The tears burned Clarks throat, both outside and in, as he carefully rocked him close. "I know. I know there's so much, I know. We'll help you, much as we can, ashimel. We'll help you, with anything you need. Shhh, we're here, my beautiful man."

Whitney just cried softly into Clark's shoulder as Clark rocked him. He held tight, crushingly tight, throat hitching with every breath and nails digging in even though he didn't realize it.

"I know. I know. Ashimel, I know." Clarks fingers stroked through his hair, holding him close to his body, and closed his eyes as he cried into him, holding tight. "We're here for you. We're here. You're not alone, we're here, we'll always be here."

And Reynolds watched on, quietly, from the door. He was looking in through the glass, and a strange feeling of heartache overtook him. It was enough that the kid had lost his father, but now to lose a mother as well struck a chord inside of him. He was basically a good kid who had been given the rotten end of luck, and he shook his head quietly as he turned and walked on down the hall.

-fin-

go on to the next part