Chapter One

"Clark?"

"What is it, Chloe?" Clark asked stonily as he stuffed rolled up pairs of socks into his duffel bag for the trip up north. He didn't need the bag, since he was only going to the Fortress of Solitude but the packing made the lie he and Chloe concocted seem legitimate.

"Clark," Chloe repeated insistently, this time laying a small hand on top of his large one to still the packing process. Reluctantly Clark met Chloe's eyes. She was not in favor of his recent decision. She saw it as rash and ludicrous. For three days after Clark told her, she ignored him, refusing to answer his calls or his texts. He finally cornered her in the her apartment above the Talon. She still wasn't convinced, but with his usual relentlessness Clark began to wear Chloe down. In this moment, Clark could tell in her eyes she was about to launch into one of her speeches.

Impatience welled up inside of him. He already made his choice and nothing Chloe had said or would say could sway him. Why couldn't she see that, accept it and move on? "Okay, you've got my attention, Chloe. What?" He snapped gruffly.

Chloe's hand stiffened along with the rest of her. Her green eyes, soft and caring before, hardened as she pressed her mouth into a thin line. She withdrew her hand, forming it into a tight fist and dropping it back to her lap with the other one.

"You know what? Nevermind," she threw at him icily as she stood to her feet. "I'm going to bed. See ya in two years, Clark." Chloe stalked from the room. Seconds later, Clark heard the door to her bedroom slam hard enough to shake the walls of the second floor.

Clark groaned and scrubbed his hands over his stubble lined jaw. If he wasn't such a selfish bastard he would have seen why she was upset long before now. He would see Chloe needed him to stay.

But he was broken-hearted, too. How could he be any good to her while his own heart was in tatters? After Lana absorbed all the Kryptonite from the bomb atop the Daily Planet roof which would have taken out half the population of Metropolis, Clark was not able to get within ten feet of Lana without suffering the effects of exposure. He could still feel the agonizing fire of pain curdling his veins when he thought of the last time he saw Lana. So naturally, Clark was running from his old life, his pain, his heart ache, to embrace a new life. A new life to help him push away all the turmoil of his mind. The life he'd been trying to avoid most of his young adult years.

Once Clark wrangled Chloe into his plan, she'd agreed to serve as intermediary with him and the world while he was away. She'd moved out to the farm to house/Shelby-sit, and came up with his convincing cover story. For the next two years, Clark would be away on a research project for the Isis Foundation. In reality, he would be sequestered away in a vortex of knowledge in the frigid air of the arctic with his artificial biological father, training for his return to the world as its hero.

Clark finished packing. He took the duffel and put it by his backdoor. As he did, he glanced up the kitchen stairs to the second floor. He couldn't leave with the rift between him and Chloe. Not when he wouldn't see her or talk to her for two years. Clark climbed the stairs, his big feet clomping on the finished wood and then down the hallway to stop in front of his mother's old room where Chloe took up residence when she moved in. Listening intently from the outside Clark could hear her sniffling, trying to stem her tears but failing. He rapped his knuckles gently against the door.

"Go away, Clark," Chloe murmured, knowing he could hear her.

Clark opened the door a crack and peeked in. Chloe was still fully dressed, buried face down in a pile of pillows while her body trembled with silent sobs.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

Chloe scrambled to face him, tear trails down her cheeks and hate filling her eyes.

"Go away!" Chloe screamed, her voice so shrill Clark winced. "I don't want to see you! If you're in such a damn hurry to be away from me then go! Go now!"

In seconds, Chloe pushed herself off the bed and flew across the room. With two tiny fists she began beating Clark violently on his chest, yelling obscenities at him. Clark didn't flinch. He just stood there and let Chloe tire herself out until she lay against him, sobbing into his red jacket.

"Don't leave me, Clark," Chloe whispered brokenly. "Please, don't leave me. I need you so much."

"Shh. . . It's okay. It's okay," Clark crooned softly as he wrapped Chloe in his arms and cradled her delicately against his body.

"No," Chloe said vehemently, shaking her head, her soft blonde hair waving as she pulled away from Clark to look up into his face. "You don't understand. I can't live without you anymore. I've already lost my husband. Please don't make me give up my best friend as well."

"You're not losing me, Chloe. I'm only going to be gone for two years," Clark told her, hoping to make the separation as easy as he could.

"And who knows what those two years will bring? I could die. You could die. It is possible," Chloe reminded him, fresh tears sparkling in her eyes. "Where would I be then, huh?"

"Chloe," Clark murmured, cupping one of her cheeks in his hand. "I wish I could stay. For you. But I have to leave Smallville. I can't stay here right now. There are too many memories and it's too hard. I'm tired of being confronted by every mistake I ever made in this town. Please, understand," Clark pleaded as he swiped a thumb over her satiny skin to catch a fat tear sailing down to Chloe's quivering chin.

"I do. I do understand, Clark," Chloe reassured him. "I wanted to leave Metropolis because it was too crowded and lonely without Jimmy."

After only seven months of marriage, Chloe was a widow. Jimmy never recovered from the coma he slipped into as a result from the injuries he sustained the day of his and Chloe's 'doomed' wedding. Three months ago, right before she moved out to the farm, she'd signed over her Power of Attorney to his family, releasing Jimmy into their care. A week later they decided to turn off the machines keeping him alive. Ever since Jimmy's funeral, Chloe felt lost and unattached to the world around her. Only Clark and Shelby could remind her she still inhabited the world of the living. And now, Clark was leaving her. Like all the other men in her life she loved before.

"Being with you has helped fill the void Jimmy left," Chloe continued softly. "I wish I could be the same for you."

"I wish so, too. I really do, Chloe," Clark responded. He pulled her close once more and held her tightly, memorizing the way she felt and smelled. Memories for his time in solitude.

"I have to go," Clark finally muttered thickly. He was beginning to feel his resolve cracking. He knew the longer he stood there in this room with Chloe, the harder it would be to leave it all behind. With a sweet kiss to Chloe's forehead, Clark let her go and turned to leave the room.

"Clark, wait," Chloe whispered, a hesitant hand reaching out and grasping the sleeve of his jacket. Clark halted, not turning back to face her. He knew the anguish ravaging his own soul would be mirrored in her eyes and he couldn't bring himself to face what he was doing to her, to himself. To them. Clark realized, for the first time since he began planning his escape, he wouldn't be seeing Chloe for two years. He wouldn't hear her voice, see her face, feel her touch. But Clark told himself it was too late to back out now. He needed to be alone. It was the only way he would ever really find himself.

"I don't know if I'll ever see you again," Chloe reiterated words spoken long ago to her best friend's expansive back.

"You will, Chloe," Clark told the door adamantly, balling his fists at his side to keep from slamming them into the wall. Why is she making this so difficult? Clark was beginning to see reasons to stay and didn't want them! "I promise you will."

"Clark, please," Chloe sighed in exasperation. "I've been trying to get up the courage all night to ask you this."

Clark swung around to face her, against his better judgment. She stood before him, her insecure stance with head bowed and arms fidgeting at her sides foreign to him. He couldn't help the stab of attraction that shot through him as she lifted her eyes to his, strands of hair shading her face.

Upon meeting his eyes, Chloe blushed and lowered them to the collar of his blue t-shirt. She could feel her heart beating in her chest and her stomach began tying itself into knots. She formed the words in her mind.

"You can ask me anything, Chloe," Clark said patiently as he watched her obvious struggle.

Taking a big breath, Chloe's voice floated quietly into the shared silence. "Spend the night with me?"

Chloe watched Clark's eyes widen and then narrow, searching her face. She knew he was wondering if he heard her correctly. He had.

"Chloe, I don't know what you mean," Clark stammered as he looked at her closely with his heart in his throat.

"Yes, you do, Clark," Chloe replied, refusing to let him play the shy boy with her. "I want to sleep with you tonight. I want to touch you, connect with you. I want to show you how much you mean to me."

"Chloe, we can't," Clark said firmly.

"Why?" Chloe asked him. "Why can't we?" Now that her thought was out, it shocked her how much she wanted this. She'd always had fantasies about Clark. Who wouldn't? But this was different. Jimmy was dead. Chloe had never been able to tell her husband how much she loved him. She wasn't going to let Clark leave without knowing just how much she loved him as well. Over the years, her feelings had grown considerably for Clark. At times she felt so guilty for being in love with two men at the same time, but knew her heart wouldn't change no matter what she did. So she loved Jimmy and planned a life with him all the while loving Clark, too.

Clark continued to stand in front of Chloe as she waited for his answer. He was waiting for his answer, too. Chloe had been his best friend for almost a decade and for the past four years, she had become something more to him. He loved her. Not in the all consuming, passionate love he possessed for Lana, but he loved her all the same. And why couldn't they have this one thing? Why couldn't he give her this one last comfort before he left her? But what if he hurt her? And not just physically? What if he also hurt her emotionally? He couldn't take the chance of giving her hope that he would stay with her. Because he was leaving, Clark reminded himself sternly.

"The lines of our friendship," Clark began hesitantly, trying to communicate his exact thoughts to her. "They've always been so blurred. This would only blur them more."

"Clark," Chloe said seriously. "If I thought for one moment, this was something you or I couldn't handle, I wouldn't even suggest it. Haven't you always wanted to have a 'friend with benefits'?" She teased.

"I could hurt you so easily," Clark countered in a whisper.

Chloe caught his double entendre, but chose to address the physical insecurities edge. Stepping closer to him, so close there was only a wisp between their bodies, Chloe framed his handsome face with her small hands.

"I trust you, Clark," she told him solemnly, hoping he would know she also meant with her heart just like her body. "You could never, would never hurt me. If that is the only thing keeping you from-"

"That's a big part of it," Clark interrupted. "But, Chloe, I don't want to use you like that. You deserve so much better than a one night stand."

"Hey, I propositioned you, remember? I'm a big girl, Clark. But it's your decision. If you don't want to. . ." Chloe's voice trailed off as her hands slipped from his face.

"Oh, I want to." Clark felt stunned at the sincerity of his words. His mind was showing him images of the cold, lonely nights to come meshed with flashes of shapely limbs tangled with his own. The temptation of what Chloe was offering shimmered before him and he fought hard against it, knowing there would be consequences. How could there not be?

As if Chloe was reading his mind, she said, "Clark, I can deal with whatever the consequences are. But I can't imagine not seeing you or holding your hand or even brushing back the hair from your face for two years."

Clark swallowed convulsively at the obvious pain in her husky voice. Staring down at Chloe, he knew he would give her this. Had to. Wanted to. Why couldn't they forget the pain of the past year for a couple of hours? Why couldn't he find solace in his best friend's arms? Why couldn't, just for tonight, Clark and Chloe be together?

Chloe continued to wait for Clark's next move. She knew he and Lana had slept together after Lana had become a part of the super-powered population and there was a good chance Clark would not want to tarnish those memories. However, that did not stop her from wanting to chase away the pain and the demons that haunted her on a nightly basis. If he said no, which knowing Clark was a big possibility, Chloe would understand. Clark did not know what it was like loving two women at once and wanting them both to know how much he cared for them. If he was lucky he never would know that pain, he would never know the guilt. He would forever love Lana Lang, even if she was half a world away.

Clark opened his mouth and Chloe steeled herself for his rejection. Hoping to hide the jagged pain with a shaky smile, she took a step away only to be harshly yanked back flush against Clark's massive bulk. Chloe, with uncharacteristic shyness, lifted her eyes to analyze Clark's expression. Her breath caught when she met his eyes where just moments before shadows of doubt and apprehension swam. A smoldering heat now burned them away, replacing them with a lust and want so strong Chloe trembled. This was a new Clark. She felt the raw power of him thrumming just beneath his skin and it scared her a little.

Pulling her so close, Chloe could feel every long line of Clark's body and could only watch in awe as his mouth crashed down upon hers. Chloe fisted her hands in the material of his shirt as she melted into him, feeling her body temperature spike. Clark's fingers were digging painfully into her waist and she fought hard not to whimper. He would never hurt me, Chloe thought with panic as Clark continued to deepen his kiss and strengthen his grip on her. Part of her was terrified about how easy he could snap her in two while the other part of her reveled in his male response to her. This was not some chaste kiss between friends nor was it to humor her. Clark was kissing her with passion and fire and Chloe couldn't help but think all the pain in the world was worth this moment.

Her mouth felt so familiar to him, like kissing someone he'd kissed many times before. Clark towered over Chloe's small height, bending her backwards as he violently kissed her, pouring out all of his frustration and pain and anger into her. She was the only one who could take it, the only one strong enough to handle all of him. Taking complete control of her, something he never did even with Lana, Clark grasped Chloe behind the knees and swung her up into his arms and found his way to his room across the hall. Once inside, he dropped Chloe onto his bed and climbed down beside her, running his hands along the curves and swells of her tiny body. He began kissing her once again, forcing her mouth open and surging inside. Chloe surrendered immediately under him, causing Clark a warm feeling to expand through his chest.

All Chloe wanted to do was explore Clark's golden skin with her tongue, especially his abdominal area, but she clearly was not going to be making any decisions this time. Clark's big body was sprawled on top of hers, his jean clad thighs framing her calves as his hands skimmed her flat belly under the silky fabric of her blouse. He left her mouth momentarily as he nibbled her jaw and down her neck to her exposed collarbone. Chloe's hands clung to Clark's shoulders, afraid if she let him go this would fade away as if it had been a dream.

Clark returned to Chloe's mouth, his hands moving further up her blouse. He ran his thick fingers along her skin, counting her ribs. She had become too slender, his mind told him with concern. He moved back down the sides of her stomach, loving the ultra feminine shape of her hourglass waist and flared hips. One of Chloe's legs broke free, her heel kicked off and her bare foot nuzzled against his calf. She tangled her fingers in the jet-black hair on his scalp as she lifted him away from her mouth and ran her tongue along his own jaw line. Finding the pulse point just under his jaw, Clark's hands suffered a spasm as Chloe kissed him there, clutching her with a little too much force. Clark heard her strangled yelp of pain even as Chloe ground her teeth shut to quiet the noise.

Like a lightening bolt had struck him, Clark found himself on the opposite side of the room from the pretty blonde lain out on his bed. His heart beat frantically and the only thing that stopped him from returning to her was the yelp ringing in his ears.

Chloe sat up slowly, feeling bereft and cold. She found Clark looming in a dark corner as far away from her as he could get. Despite his sheer size, he reminded her of a skittish deer. Chloe scooted to the end of the bed and hung her head down between her knees. It wasn't so much that it hurt as it startled her, the amount of power he possessed in his hands. For a second, just a second, she thought he was going to crush her bones but she didn't feel any fear. In some place in her mind, Chloe knew that was so messed up but it was a testament to how much of herself she was willing to sacrifice to Clark.

Clark wondered what Chloe was thinking. Was she regretting giving herself to him? When she lifted her eyes would he see disgust? Anger? Or worse, fear? He didn't need to wait long. Chloe raised her hazel eyes and looked at him with. . . Impatience?

"Clark," she rasped. "What are you doing over there?"

For a moment, Clark forgot he was twenty-two years old. He felt like he was fourteen again and he'd hugged Chloe good-bye one day and squeezed a little too hard and she playfully told him he was breaking her back. Clark shot away from her quickly and then was asked what the hell his problem was. She looked exactly the same as she had then, only her hair was rumpled sexily and her grown-up chest heaved like his.

"Chloe, I told you," said Clark, fighting hard not to whine. Chloe shed her other heel before she stood and walked over to him, stopping when she could lean her body against his.

"Clark," Chloe began patiently, although her eyes belied her tone of voice. "I need you to come back and finish what you started."

"You felt what I just did to you!" Clark exclaimed as he jabbed at the bed with a finger, unable to believe Chloe was pushing this when she just witnessed how detrimental this could be to her safety.

"And sometimes a little pain is a good thing," Chloe murmured seductively as she went up on her tip toes. Clark felt his skin go hot all over again at her euphemism.

"But I might not have a safe word," Clark choked out. His hands itched at his sides. He knew the male in him wanted Chloe for the simple reason she was a female. But the desire boiling along his nerve endings right now smacked of more. How long had he wanted her? How long had the tension between them he was feeling now been building?

"Do I need to slip you some Red K?" Chloe muttered jokingly, returning flat footed to the floor.

Clark could see her own need for him was beginning to wane. She was retreating back inside herself. It took a lot for her to ask him to make love to her. They were so close, but Clark knew there was still a part of her she kept from him, the part he could unwillingly shatter if she didn't. He'd gotten a glimpse of it tonight. The shy, vulnerable, soft woman in his arms was quickly spinning away from him, vanishing back inside his assertive, tough as nails best friend. Red Kryptonite. . .

A clever smile curled Clark's lips and Chloe stopped laughing. He didn't take her seriously about the Red K? If he was afraid he would hurt her as Clark, then Kal would rip her to shreds! But before she could voice her severe disapproval, Clark vanished.

The house was silent and Chloe wondered if Clark really just sped right out of here, leaving her in the most humiliating way. Was she that undesirable? Chloe turned back to Clark's bed and crawled in, curling up tightly and pulled the covers over her head. She buried her head in his pillows and prepared to cry herself to sleep when the blankets were lifted back. Out of the corner of her partially opened eye, Chloe saw Clark leaning over her. With a furrowed brow, she rolled her head back to look at him.

"Where did you go?"

Clark sat down on the edge of the bed and cupped her hip in one large hand. Chloe followed the line of his gaze to a thick black band wrapping his wrist with a cloudy blue rock set within the leather.

"Is that. . ." Chloe began as she pushed herself up on an elbow.

"Blue Kryptonite," Clark finished for her, swinging his face back to hers.

"But that removes your powers! Clark, you have to take it off!" Chloe cried as she dove for his wrist in a wild attempt to wrench the band from him before it did any permanent damage. Clark caught her easily against him and tumbled her back to the bed. Without his Kryptonian strength, it was astounding just how much fight Chloe had in her. Clark, momentarily stunned, let Chloe roll him over, sitting on his stomach where she proceeded to try and grapple with the watch-like clasp. Whipping his wrist away from her, Clark grasped her hips and tossed her to his side, quickly imprisoning her questing fingers in both of his hands, intertwining them with his so there was no room for escape.

"Chloe," Clark gasped, slightly out of breath. "It only removes my powers while I wear it. When I take it off, I'll be back to normal."

Chloe stilled. "But the ring that your mother gave you, your father's victory ring. When you slipped that on, you couldn't get it off. Can I have my hands back?"

"Do you promise to calm down?" Clark asked before he released them, albeit reluctantly. Chloe sat up, Clark doing the same, the two facing each other.

"This is Blue Kryptonite in its rawest form. It counteracts my powers when worn, just like the ring. When I remove it, which I can," Clark showed her by unfastening the clasp and holding it away from his wrist before putting it back on. "I return to normal. Or my normal."

"I thought the only piece was destroyed along with Bizarro." Chloe reached out and ran her fingers over the bumpy stone. "Where did you get this?"

"Dax Ur sent it to me. A couple of days after I visited him, I got this in the mail. He wore one just like this and made me one. In case I ever changed my mind about who I wanted to be," Clark explained softly, remembering the nice Kryptonian man from the desert.

"The one who was later-"

"Killed by Brainiac," Clark bit out.

"Clark, if you had this, why for the next couple of weeks did I have to hear Lana whine about the lack of physical intimacy between the two of you?" Chloe questioned accusingly. Clark could have fixed the situation for both of them, though Chloe knew in those weeks following Bizarro's demise the absence of sex wasn't the only problem the couple was dealing with.

"We were trying to find our way back and sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I only remembered I stashed it out in the barn when you mentioned Red K," Clark told her, a lump of pain forming in the back of his throat as he thought of Lana. Shaking his head to dislodge the memories, he turned back to Chloe and leered at her, a little unconvincingly. "So, where were we?"

Chloe did not miss the anguish that flickered across Clark's face, even for the merest of seconds. She couldn't help feeling guilty about how selfish she had been earlier. She should be making this easier on Clark, not harder by asking him to do something his heart wasn't in. She knew he was only putting on this facade for her. And if she was any smaller of a person, she'd continue to let him. Damn my moral compass, Chloe hissed internally.

"No, Clark," Chloe replied sadly.

Clark spoke before she could continue, reading her thoughts as they passed over her face. "I want to, Chloe. I want to do this with you."

"No you don't, Clark," said Chloe with a shake of her head. She rose to her feet and took a step toward the door, intending on returning to Martha's room. Clark's hand shot out and circled her wrist. Chloe stopped.

Clark stood to his own feet and walked in front of her, his hand never letting go of her wrist. With two fingers, Clark lifted Chloe's face until she stared up at him with moist eyes.

"If I'm leaving civilization for two years, its not Lana I want to remember. Its you," Clark let his words sink in and then swooped down, claiming her lips in an heart-breaking kiss.

Morning came quickly, though neither Clark or Chloe slept the entire night. Between bouts of saying good-bye, the two would lay in the tangled sheets and talk. Or be silent, both aware that something special was being formed between them, even in those quiet moments. When the eastern horizon began to lighten from black to a velvety gray, Clark turned to Chloe with an urgency that shook him deep inside. Not wanting to acknowledge the coming day, Clark put his back to the window and cradled Chloe against him, her slim back pressed along his front.

"Go to sleep," he whispered in the curve of her ear as he made lazy figure eights on the soft skin of her lower belly.

"I don't want to," she whispered back, afraid again, she'd wake up and find this night was all a dream.

"I'll wake you before I go," Clark lied, promising to punish himself when he got to the Fortress for it.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Clark choked out.

"Clark?"

"Yes?" Clark fought against tears gathering in his eyes

"I love you."

"I love you," Chloe whispered.

Clark bit his lip until he tasted the iron tang of blood on his tongue. Laying his forehead in the crook of her neck, Clark gathered Chloe closer, the pressure with which he held her sure to snap her in two had it not been for the Blue Kryptonite. Inhaling deeply, Clark caught the comforting scent of cinnamon and listened closely to her breathing. He knew the moment she drifted to sleep next to him. Her entire body went limp and her breathing deepened. Only then did Clark allow the dam to break, letting his tears drip down onto Chloe's soft skin.

She expected no answer to her declaration. Chloe told him simply because she wanted him to know how she felt. What other woman had ever loved him as selflessly as Chloe Sullivan had? All those years of standing beside him, holding his hand and prodding him down the road to the man he was destined to become. And how did he repay her? He left her. When Chloe needed him the most he turned from her, too caught up in his own pain and suffering to care about the woman who helped make him what he was today. All his mistakes began to take shape in front of his eyes. All the wrong decisions he'd ever made laid out before him like a road paved with good intentions. And where had they led him? Emotional hell.

Time passed. Chloe slept. Clark cried.

The dull yellow sunlight began painting the wall in front of him and Clark knew it was time to go. Inch by inch, he slid the black band from his wrist, working it against his thigh muscle to push it further down his hand. Finally it passed his knuckles and he grasped it in his hand. With a whoosh, Clark was was dressed in the dark blue jeans and the blue t-shirt he plucked from the floor. He stood, watching Chloe sleep peacefully, not aware of his absent warmth yet. Smoothing the tangled curls back from her face, Clark knelt and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. He laid the band on the nightstand next to her head as a reminder of what they shared. And a promise for when he returned.

"I have to go now, Chloe," Clark whispered, so quiet he knew he would be the only one to hear the words. "I wish I was the man you deserved."

He felt there was more he needed to say. But what?

"You're so special," Clark said lamely.

Running his fingers along her cheek, he spoke the words that had been banging against his lips since she'd asked him to spend the night with her.

"I love you, too." And he meant it.

Walking from the room at human speed, Clark felt as if he was moving in slow motion. He descended the stairs and picked up the bag, heading for the kitchen door. Putting his hand on the knob, he stopped and listened to the deafening rhythm of Chloe's thudding heart beat.

Call me back, Chloe. Call me back and I'll come.

But all that met his ears was the silence. Squaring his shoulders, Clark walked out into the warm light of morning. With a burst of speed, he arrived at the caves. He found his way absently to the chamber off the main cavern, trying desperately not to listen for the lilting cadence of Chloe's voice as she woke with his name on her lips.

The ancient table stood before him. He opened his book and withdrew his key. Inserting the alien metallic into its slot, a brilliant beam of light engulfed him and Clark was transported to a white wonderland of snow.

Clark gazed at his gleaming Fortress of Solitude standing in the distance. He began taking long strides toward it, postponing the moment he would step inside. For the next two years this would be his life. Cold, dead, vacant land. No one but him and the manifestation of his dead biological father's will.

"Clark. . ." she'd whispered. Clark closed his eyes and pictured golden hair and smooth, peach-colored skin. He felt desperate hands clutching his shoulders and elegant fingers caressing his face. He remembered the way she'd responded to his every touch and how she'd held nothing back, giving all of herself to him. Was it possible for him to be head-over-heels in love with Lana Lang when one day without Chloe Sullivan caused him to tremble in fear? But he loved Lana. With his mind, body and. . . Soul?

All too soon, as he pondered the jumbled mass of his thoughts, the entrance of his Fortress towered over him. Like a criminal resigned to his sentence, Clark shuffled inside, his big footprints in the snow being swept over by a strong arctic breeze.

"Jor-El!" Clark shouted. "I'm here. And I'm ready."

The crystals surrounding him began to glow and he knew his father's presence filled the structure.

"My son," the voice echoed. "Are you sure?"

Clark clenched his fists. I love you. "Yes."

"Then let us begin."