Chapter 4
Kent Farm
The sun had barely begun its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, when Elisa found herself sitting on the porch swing, the familiar creak of wood beneath her a soothing backdrop to her thoughts. Smallville felt quieter than usual, almost as if the world itself was holding its breath. She was still recovering, physically and emotionally, but the slow rhythm of life in this town had always been her balm.
That peace, however, was interrupted by the rumble of a sleek car pulling up to the Kent farm. Elisa’s fingers tightened on the edge of the swing as soon as she saw it—a silver Porsche. Her stomach twisted slightly. Lex.
Her mind immediately went to their brief, failed date. Lex had been kind, sure, even charming in that polished way of his. But he was also relentless, always pushing to uncover secrets, and Elisa wasn’t about to let him anywhere near Clark’s. That had been the end of whatever they had, though Jonathan had recently mentioned that Lex had gone above and beyond, calling in the best doctors from Metropolis during her recovery. That only complicated things further. Lex’s help, while well-meaning, had caused friction—friction she didn’t need, especially between the men in her family and Lex... Well, it was like trying to mix oil and water.
The car door opened, and sure enough, Lex stepped out, dressed in his usual crisp, tailored attire. He spotted her on the porch and smiled, his sharp features softening slightly. With a smooth, confident stride, he made his way over, his polished shoes clicking lightly on the gravel.
“Elisa,” Lex greeted warmly, his voice carrying that familiar note of charm. “I’m glad to see you back home.”
Elisa straightened up, forcing a polite smile even as a dull ache throbbed through her body from her recent injuries. “Thanks, Lex,” she replied, her voice still a little hoarse from her recovery. “I really appreciate what you did—bringing in those doctors. It was... thoughtful.”
Lex waved off her gratitude, his smile deepening as he settled his gaze on her with a subtle flicker of affection. “It was the least I could do. Smallville’s medical facilities leave much to be desired, and I wanted to make sure you had the best care available.”
Elisa nodded, genuinely appreciative of his concern, but something in her chest tightened as her eyes darted to the figure standing a few feet away—Clark. His tall frame was stiff with tension, his usual easy-going demeanour nowhere to be found. His face was set in a hard scowl, one that seemed to darken with every second Lex stood there. He was barely holding himself together, his jaw clenched so tightly Elisa thought he might crack a tooth. Oh, come on, Clark. Not now.
Lex, sensing the shift in atmosphere, didn’t miss a beat. He turned his gaze toward Clark, offering a nod. “Clark,” he acknowledged smoothly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Good to see you. I trust Elisa’s feeling better?”
Clark’s response was clipped, almost bordering on cold. “Yeah. She’s getting there.”
Elisa rolled her eyes internally. Really?
Lex, ever the picture of calm, extended a bouquet of flowers he had brought along. He handed them to Elisa with a small, genuine smile. “I brought these for you. I figured you could use some colour around the house while you’re recovering.”
“Thanks.” Elisa smiled, taking the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”
Lex lingered for a moment longer, trying to engage her in light conversation—asking how she was feeling, how her recovery was going—but the tension in the air was thick, palpable even. Elisa could practically feel Clark’s glare burning a hole into the side of Lex’s head. She shot him a quick, subtle glance, silently pleading for him to relax, but it was like asking a storm cloud not to rain.
Sensing that his presence wasn’t entirely welcome—particularly from Clark—Lex finally gave a short nod, his smile still in place, though there was a knowing glint in his eyes. “Well, I should get going. But Elisa, if you need anything, you know where to find me. Don’t hesitate to call.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Lex. Really.”
With one final glance in Clark’s direction—a flicker of something almost smug crossing his face—Lex turned and made his way back to his car, leaving behind a silence that felt more like a storm about to break.
As soon as Lex’s car disappeared down the road, Elisa turned her gaze toward Clark, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, what was that?”
Clark, arms crossed and still glaring in the direction Lex had gone, didn’t move. “What was what?” His tone was clipped, bordering on accusatory.
Elisa groaned, leaning back in the swing and throwing him an exasperated look. “Don’t play dumb, Clark. You were practically growling at him the entire time.”
Clark’s eyes snapped to hers, frustration simmering just below the surface. “I don’t trust him, Elisa,” he bit out, his voice sharper than he intended. “You know that. Lex doesn’t do anything without an agenda.”
“Agenda?” Elisa let out a disbelieving laugh, though there was an edge of irritation to it. “He brought me flowers, Clark, not a corporate takeover.”
“He’s always pushing, El,” Clark shot back, his voice rising slightly. “He wants to get close to you, to all of us, because he thinks there’s something more to uncover. You know how he is.”
Elisa sighed, running a hand through her hair. She could feel the tension building, but she didn’t want to argue. “I know Lex can be... intense,” she admitted, “but he’s not some kind of evil mastermind.”
Clark scoffed, the frustration boiling over now. “You don’t see it because he’s playing nice with you! But I see through him. I know what he’s after.”
Elisa stood, crossing her arms and stepping closer to him, her eyes locking onto his. “Clark, I get that you’re protective—believe me, I do—but you can’t be there every second of every day. I can handle Lex Luthor.”
That stung, and Elisa immediately saw it in the way Clark’s expression faltered, hurt flickering in his blue eyes.
Elisa softened, guilt gnawing at her as she reached out to touch his arm. “Clark, you won’t always be around to swoop in and save the day.”
Clark stepped back slightly, his face tense as her words sank in. You won’t always be around. The phrase echoed painfully in his head. His voice was low, almost hurt. “I thought... I thought we’d always be there for each-other. That’s the whole point, El. I don’t want you to have to face stuff alone.”
She stepped closer, her tone soft but firm. “You’re always there for me, Clark. And I’m grateful—so grateful. But I’m not helpless. You have to trust me to handle things, even if it’s someone like Lex.”
Clark swallowed hard, looking away for a moment before finally meeting her gaze again, the hurt still lingering in his eyes. “I just... I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.” Elisa’s voice was gentle, a mix of love and frustration. “I promise.”
For a long moment, they stood there, the tension slowly ebbing away, replaced by the familiar warmth of their bond. Elisa sighed softly, giving him a small smile. “Now, can we not fight over this? Lex isn’t worth it.”
Clark huffed, though a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Okay, fine. But I’m still watching him.”
“Of course you are, Clark Kent.” Elisa laughed, shaking her head. “Of course you are.”
2 days later
Jonathan and Martha were preparing dinner, while Clark was watching TV, when Elisa walked in the room and called, “Dad?”
“Yes?” He asked without looked up from the bowl.
“Here.” She said before pushing a piece of paper his way.
Jonathan lifted his head to look at the cheque, even Martha leaned in to peek. Both their eyes widened simultaneously before snapping towards her.
Perplexed, he uttered, “That’s a hundred thousand dollars.”
Clark’s head snapped towards them, before he blurred to stand by the counter and lifted the cheque.
“Yes.” Elisa told them excitedly. “Now, you don’t need to take another loan or ask from the Luthor’s.”
Jonathan said warningly, “Elisa…”
She noticed that even her mom and Clark were baffled, while her dad was turning red by the second and she rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys. Have a little faith.”
“Where did you get this from?” Jonathan gritted out.
“It’s mine.” She replied.
“Yours?” This came from Clark.
“Yes.” She nodded. “My parents left me some money and Remus took me to the bank.”
Her dad’s anger melted, but Elisa still didn’t like his expressions, just as mom smiled at her and said warmly, “Oh, honey. That’s very thoughtful of you, but we can’t take it.”
“Why not?” She frowned. They needed the money and they had it now. What was the problem?
“Because your parents left it for you.” Martha informed her in a tone she hadn’t used since she and Clark were kids.
“But mom!” she argued, not happy with the refusal. “There’s more than I’ll ever be able to use!”
“Look, Elisa,” Dad started slowly, “…as your parents, we’re supposed to provide for you. Not the other way around. I’m sorry, but we cant take that money.”
“I know things are difficult but trust me… we’ll figure it out.” Her mom added with a smile.
She looked into her dad’s eyes and tried again, “Dad, I want you to take the money, not because I don’t trust you or mom, but because you are my parents… and I would’ve done the same if it had been Remus or even my own parents. What’s the use of all that money if I can’t even use it to save our home?”
Martha and Jonathan exchanged a look. A look she knew meant letting them down gently, so she said, “Dad, mom… we need the money. Isn’t it better that we don’t have to rely on others for it?”
She looked at Clark for help, making him sigh, but he looked at their parents and tried, “You can think of it as a loan?”
Elisa nodded, still unsure if it was working or not, so she added, “If it makes you feel better, that’s not even the half of what’s sitting in the vault.”
Jonathan rested his elbows on the table and his face in his palm. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it. His loan had been rejected by the bank and he couldn’t allow the Luthors on his land… not when he knew it would put both Clark and Elisa in danger. He’d taken pride in raising both the kids on his own. Remus had offered him money to raise Elisa all those years ago, but he’d refused. He loved the girl like his own, just as he loved Clark. But if he didn’t take the money, he would have to sell the farm and how was he supposed to keep his children safe, if he couldn’t even provide a home for them?
“Alright.” He said before lifting his head up and staring straight at her. “$50,000. And I’ll return it as soon as the loan gets approved.”
“$54,501.38.” Clark corrected.
At Jonathan’s look, he looked at the ground and mumbled, “Sorry.”
Elisa couldn’t stop the smile as she jumped, rushing around the table to hug her dad.
Once everything was settled, Clark looked at the cheque before clearing his throat and asked, “Just out of curiosity… just how much is sitting in that vault?”
There were twin choruses of “CLARK!”
Elisa shrugged them off, knowing neither Clark, nor their parents cared about the money. She thought about all that she had seen in Gringotts and informed, “Other than three properties and a few ancient artifacts… nearly 10 million.”
The revelation was met with stunned silence. Martha's eyes widened, Jonathan set down his fork, and Clark's jaw nearly dropped. Elisa simply nodded, still awed at the amount of gold that had been stacked in the Potter vault.
Kent Farm
The school day had been a whirlwind of awkwardness for Clark Kent. Elisa was at home, still on bed rest after her recent injury, and he’d spent most of the day worrying about her, but somehow, that wasn’t the most embarrassing part of his day. He’d just had to sit through the mandatory sex education class, something he’d been dreading for weeks. As he sat in that dimly lit classroom, surrounded by his classmates, he couldn’t help but squirm as the video played. His face flushed hotter with each passing moment, and by the time the bell finally rang, he practically bolted out of the room. He didn’t even stop when he saw Lana and Chloe, who had both caught his panicked expression and burst into laughter.
When Clark finally reached the Kent farmhouse, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The familiar creaks in the floor, the warm, comforting smells of home—it was all a welcome balm to his flustered state. But a residual awkwardness lingered, as if he couldn’t shake off the residual effects of that class.
"Mom? Dad?" he called, but there was no response.
Noticing the quiet, he made his way up the stairs to check on Elisa. "El?" he called out softly.
"In here!" came her voice.
As Clark made his way down the hall, he noticed the faint curl of steam wafting out of the bathroom. The door was ajar, and he hesitated. He was about to turn around, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he knocked gently.
"El?"
The door opened, and Elisa stepped out, wrapped only in a towel. Droplets of water clung to her skin, catching the soft light spilling through the hallway window, making each bead shimmer as it travelled along her collarbone and dipped down between her collarbones. Clark’s heart thudded in his chest, the sudden heat in his cheeks catching him off guard. He felt frozen, his face flushing with embarrassment—and something else, something confusing and unfamiliar that seemed to grow with each passing second.
"Hey, dork," Elisa greeted, giving him a small, tired smile. Her usual spark was there, but her eyes betrayed the exhaustion lingering from her recent injury.
"Hey," Clark croaked, his voice coming out more like a squeak. He forced himself to look away, but it was harder than it should have been. As he tried to gather his thoughts, his mind betrayed him, flashing back to that one memory—the one he never spoke of and tried hard not to think about.
It had happened months ago, right after he’d returned home from chores. He had knocked on her door, but she hadn’t answered. Before he knew it, the door had somehow vanished, and he’d found himself staring at her standing by her bed, wrapped in a towel, her skin glistening with water. She hadn’t seen him, obviously, and in a split second, the towel slipped from her shoulders, leaving her bare and his heart pound so loudly he was sure she’d hear it. He’d immediately left, but the image had stayed with him, and he couldn’t quite shake it. She had looked... beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made his heart ache and his palms sweat. He’d never told her about that moment, and if she ever found out, she’d probably hex him on the spot. Now, standing in front of her in that hallway, the memory resurfaced, and he felt his palms begin to sweat.
“Uh… you’re back early,” Elisa’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. She ran a hand through her damp hair, looking up at him curiously.
Clark tried to respond, but a strange sensation bubbled up within him. His eyes began to burn, a slow, intense warmth that radiated outward. His forehead grew hot, and beads of sweat formed along his hairline. He rubbed his temples, confusion written across his face.
“Clark? You seem a bit off. Everything okay?” Elisa stepped closer; concern etched on her face.
“I… I don’t know,” he managed to say, his voice trailing off as his eyes burned hotter. It felt like an ember was sitting behind each eye, and he winced. "It’s… really hot in here."
Elisa frowned and reached out, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. Her touch felt cool against his overheated skin, and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to regain his composure.
“Oh my god… you’re burning up, Clark,” she exclaimed, worry creeping into her voice.
The heat only intensified, making his pulse pound in his ears. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the image of her standing there, wrapped in nothing but a towel, water beading on her skin. And just as the thought formed, a surge of energy pulsed through him—a hot, uncontrollable wave that clawed its way up his throat and burst through his eyes.
A sudden flash of red filled the room, and Elisa gasped, jumping aside as twin beams of intense heat shot from his eyes. His vision blurred as the room shimmered with energy, the searing light hitting the curtains beside Elisa and igniting them in flames.
"Clark!" she screamed, her voice sharp with shock.
Panicking, Clark pinched his eyes shut, willing the strange sensation to stop, but it happened again. The heat flared, even stronger this time, and as he opened his eyes in horror, another blast of energy shot out, this time hitting the bathroom door, which began to smoulder and smoke.
Elisa’s instincts took over as she flung her hand out and cried out, "Accio wand!"
Her wand flew into her hand, and with a quick, practiced motion, she pointed it at the flames and shouted, “Aguamenti!”
A powerful jet of water erupted from her wand, dousing the flames as smoke filled the room. The fiery glow gave way to the soft hiss of steam as the flames died down, leaving behind charred fabric and scorched wood. Elisa looked at Clark, her face a mix of shock and bewilderment.
Clark’s heart raced as he opened his mouth, searching for an explanation, but words failed him. The shock, the guilt, and the overwhelming feeling of having done something terrible swirled within him.
“I… I… El…” he stammered, barely able to look at her. “I couldn’t control it. I didn’t mean to… hurt you.”
Before she could respond, they heard the hurried footsteps of their parents coming up the stairs. Jonathan and Martha burst into the room, their eyes widening as they took in the scene—burnt curtains, a smouldering door, and two wide-eyed, bewildered teenagers.
"What on earth happened in here?" Jonathan asked, his eyes darting between the burnt bathroom and his bewildered children.
"Err…" Elisa said, glancing at Clark, who was still frozen in shock. She cleared her throat and said, “I think Clark can… burn things with his eyes.”
A heavy silence settled over them, thick with disbelief and fear. Jonathan and Martha exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes of worry and confusion. As always, their mother was the first to find her voice, though it was barely above a whisper.
"Maybe we should… take you to the ER, honey,” she said, her gaze softening as she looked at Elisa.
Elisa shook her head quickly. “I’m fine, Mom, really.”
Clark finally found his voice, though it was shaky and barely held together. “El… I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his eyes filling with guilt. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know…”
“Clark…” Elisa said, voice was calm, reassuring. “It wasn’t your fault.”
But Clark’s face twisted in anguish, and he stepped back. “THE HELL IT WASN’T!” he shouted suddenly, his voice raw with emotion.
The outburst echoed through the farmhouse, making everyone jump. Martha and Elisa’s eyes widened, worry etched on their faces, and Jonathan instinctively reached out, a fatherly attempt to soothe.
"Son…” Jonathan said, his voice firm yet gentle. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out.”
But Clark shook his head, his voice trembling with emotion as he cut him off.
“No!” he practically shouted. “I could’ve killed you, El! I didn’t know what was happening—I could’ve...”
Elisa’s expression softened, but her tone was firm. “Clark, listen to me. You didn’t hurt me. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I can take care of myself.” She gave him a small, determined smile. “You’re still learning, Clark. It’s not that big of a deal. We’ll get through this.”
Clark stared at her, his face a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Not that big of a deal?!” He looked at her, almost bemused. “El, my eyes shot fire! That’s kind of a big deal.”
Elisa’s face softened further, a hint of humour tugging at her lips as she leaned against the door frame. “Remember when we were six? At Lana’s birthday party? How I set all her gifts on fire?”
Clark blinked, thrown off by the sudden memory. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile. They’d been just kids, both of them still clumsy with their powers. He remembered the chaos that had erupted when the pile of presents suddenly went up in flames. No one else had seen it happen, and Elisa had sworn him to secrecy. Not a soul knew even now, all these years later.
From beside them, Martha let out a small, disbelieving gasp. “Wait… that was you?” Her eyes narrowed, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.
Elisa looked away, scratching her head sheepishly. “Err… no?”
The smell of smoke still hung faintly in the air, and Jonathan shook his head, a look of exasperated fondness crossing his face. How had this become his life? A son who could shoot fire from his eyes, a daughter with magic, and now, apparently, a history of setting party gifts ablaze.
He finally turned to Clark, his expression both gentle and expectant. “Clark,” he said, trying to coax some clarity from his son. “You wanna explain what happened here?”
Clark’s eyes flicked to Elisa, her steady gaze full of quiet understanding. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He felt overwhelmed, as if he were drowning in the weight of his powers and the fear of hurting the people he loved. He shook his head, the words catching in his throat. “Not really,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. Before anyone could stop him, he turned and bolted out the front door.
The three of them were left staring at the empty space he’d left behind. Elisa’s face fell, a flash of guilt crossing her eyes, while Martha’s hand clutched at her heart, worry knitting her brow.
Jonathan looked between his wife and daughter, his voice a low rumble. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said, heading out the door to find his son.
Clark sat on the steps inside the barn, head in his hands, the weight of the day pressing down on him. His mind raced, replaying every moment in agonizing detail—the heat, the rush of energy through his eyes, the uncontrollable power surging out. And worse still, the image of Elisa, his best friend, as he’d seen her only moments before. He didn’t want to think about it, but the memory wouldn’t leave him.
What’s wrong with me?! he thought, half-panicked, half-ashamed.
He’d tried to look away when he noticed her standing there in nothing but a towel. He could even see the outline beneath. And then… well, somehow, it had been as though she wasn’t wearing anything at all. The vision had felt so real, so immediate, that he’d been frozen, unable to look away even as his eyes burned and the air around him seemed to spark.
As if on cue, he heard the familiar sound of his father’s footsteps approaching. Jonathan stepped inside the barn, his expression a mixture of concern and calm as he saw his son’s dejected figure slumped on the stairs.
“What happened, son?” Jonathan asked, his voice gentle yet steady.
Clark half-laughed, a bitter sound that felt hollow in his chest. You mean the part where I saw Elisa naked? Or where I just… stood there gawking at her like some pervert? Or where I nearly set her on fire?! He clenched his fists, but he didn’t dare meet his dad’s gaze.
“Clark?” Jonathan prompted again, his tone encouraging. “Just… tell me what’s going on. We’ll figure it out together.”
Clark swallowed hard, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t even know for sure,” he muttered. “It just… it just happened. One second, I’m just standing there, and then I start to feel this heat, like I’m burning up from the inside. My eyes started to sting, and I couldn’t control it… And the next thing I knew, the place I was staring at just… burst into flames.”
Jonathan studied his son’s face, concern etched in every line. “And… what exactly was going on when this happened?”
Clark felt his face go red, and he shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet his dad’s eyes. “It’s complicated,” he muttered, hesitating. How could he tell him? His dad would be disappointed, or worse—ashamed. But Jonathan waited patiently, his expression gentle, so Clark finally took a deep breath and began to explain, though he carefully left out the more explicit details.
Jonathan listened, his face carefully neutral as Clark explained the events leading up to the fire, though Clark felt his father’s gaze sharpen slightly.
When he’d finished, Jonathan took a step back, clearly processing.
“Huh…” Jonathan said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though his eyes were serious. “I thought you thought of Elisa as… well, as a sister.”
Clark’s eyes widened at that, a nervous laugh escaping before he could stop it. “Yeah, I… well, I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. “I guess… maybe not exactly like a sister,” he admitted reluctantly.
Jonathan’s expression softened, his gaze warm and understanding. “Clark, this could get very… complicated,” he murmured, exhaling slowly. “But let’s focus on what we know. You and I both know you didn’t mean to start any of these fires. Your powers are still developing, and you’re only just beginning to understand what you can do.”
“But Dad,” Clark interrupted, his voice barely a whisper, thick with guilt. “Elisa could’ve been hurt. I didn’t even realise...”
Jonathan placed a reassuring hand on Clark’s shoulder, his grip firm but gentle.
“Clark. Look at me,” he said softly, his tone steady but carrying a weight of understanding. When Clark finally looked up, Jonathan met his eyes with a kind, unwavering gaze. “I know this feels overwhelming, and I know you’re scared. But whatever’s going on with you, we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this.”
Clark’s rigid posture softened, and he released a shaky breath. There was something in his dad’s words, a reassurance that chased away a small part of the guilt that had been gnawing at him. “Thanks, Dad,” he murmured quietly.
Jonathan smiled, his eyes shining with the same confidence he always tried to pass to his son. “I think I have a pretty good idea of what might be triggering this new power,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You said it happened when you felt… well, when you felt something big, right? Like a surge of emotion?”
Clark nodded, his cheeks flushing as he recalled the incident. The last thing he wanted was to admit how intensely he’d been thinking about Elisa.
“Well,” Jonathan said, choosing his words carefully, “sometimes our feelings can amplify what’s inside us—especially when we’re still trying to understand ourselves. You’re not just dealing with normal emotions, son. You’ve got powers that can make those feelings… well, bigger than they would be otherwise. The good news is that we can work on it. You can learn to control this.”
Clark looked up at his father, a flicker of hope stirring inside him. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Jonathan said confidently. “It’ll take time, but you’ll get there. And you’ve got people around you who are here to help you.”
A small smile finally broke through Clark’s troubled expression, and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t have all the answers, but at least he had a starting point.
Soon after their talk, Jonathan set up a ragged scarecrow target for Clark in the middle of the field, away from anything flammable. As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows, Clark stood at a distance, his hands balled into fists as he waited for his dad’s instruction.
“Alright. Rule number one,” Jonathan began, motioning for Clark to step closer. “Always practice away from the barn.”
Clark raised an eyebrow, confused. “Dad, I don’t get it. I thought the whole point was to stop this from happening. Why are we practicing how to use it?”
Jonathan’s face softened. “Well, in order to find the off switch, first we need to find the on switch, right?” he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at the scarecrow with a determined look. “Now, I want you to remember exactly what you were thinking about the first time it happened.”
Clark’s stomach dropped. His mind immediately flooded with images of Elisa, standing before him in nothing but a towel, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he glanced away, clearing his throat. “Uh, Dad… this might be easier if I was…” he paused, scratching the back of his neck, “…alone.”
Jonathan let out a short laugh, patting his son’s shoulder before stepping back to give him some privacy. “Right… sorry, son. I’ll just… be over here if you need me.”
Clark couldn't help but think, 'Talk about awkward.'
As his dad retreated, he took another deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. The guilt was overwhelming; how could he think of Elisa, his best friend, like this? It felt wrong, intrusive somehow. Trying to shake the image of her from his mind, he thought of someone else—someone he’d had a crush on for years. Lana, he reminded himself. He’d seen her in a bikini before, down by Crater Lake. It shouldn’t be hard to focus on her instead.
But the second he closed his eyes, the image of Lana faded. In its place, Elisa reappeared, even more vividly than before. Her red hair fell in wild curls around her bare shoulders, her emerald eyes gleaming as they met his. She smiled at him with that warm, familiar look, one he’d seen countless times but never in this context. She was… beautiful, in a way he had somehow never fully realized until now.
The heat surged up again, uncontrollable, as he felt that rush of conflicting emotions—desire mixed with guilt, longing tangled with shame. Before he could stop it, his eyes snapped open, and twin beams of fiery energy burst out, searing the scarecrow again. The flames engulfed the straw figure, growing even brighter than before, casting flickering shadows across the field.
He stumbled back, horrified at himself. His heart pounded, and his face felt hot with shame. This is Elisa, he thought, his chest tight. She’s my best friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, not like that… He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the thoughts, but the image of her smile, her eyes, her soft laugh—everything kept coming back, stronger than ever.
Clark watched the scarecrow burn, feeling a cold dread settle over him as the flames flickered and died. His dad might think this was progress, but all he felt was a crushing sense of guilt. If Elisa found out… The thought was unbearable. Would she look at him the same way? Would she even want to be around him? He knew her so well, yet right now he felt like a stranger to himself.
He took another unsteady breath, steadying his resolve. No, he thought. I have to control this. He wasn’t going to let these feelings—these powers—ruin things with Elisa. He would find a way to push down whatever this was, for both their sakes.
Suddenly, he heard the soft padding of footsteps approaching. His heart leapt, and he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Elisa’s presence washed over him, a comforting warmth mixed with a renewed dread.
“It’s not safe,” Clark said, turning his face away as Elisa approached. “You should go back.”
“Seriously, Clark?” Elisa huffed, stepping directly in front of him, hands on her hips.
Clark snapped his eyes shut, his jaw tightening. He didn’t trust himself, not with her standing so close, looking at him with that fierce determination.
“This is ridiculous!” she muttered. “I think we’ve established that I can take care of myself.”
“El…” he began, voice trailing off as he felt the warmth of her presence.
“Clark,” she interrupted, her tone softening, “I think I can help.” When he still didn’t open his eyes, she added more sharply, “Would you just open your eyes?”
Tentatively, Clark opened one eye and peeked at her. She stood there, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised, and a slight smirk playing at her lips. Her gaze was steady, her presence somehow calming the storm inside him. He realized, in that moment, that Elisa wasn’t just someone he cared about—she was someone he could trust with every strange, dangerous part of himself.
“Alright, El,” he murmured, sighing. “But be careful.”
Elisa’s expression softened as she gave him a quick nod. With a practiced flick of her wand, she conjured a series of floating targets in the distance, each one hovering in mid-air, waiting. “Just focus,” she encouraged. “I’ve got you.”
Clark took a steadying breath, locking his gaze on the first target. Elisa’s quiet confidence seemed to ground him, and the fear began to dissipate. As he focused, the heat in his chest grew, but it felt manageable—controlled. Opening his eyes, he released a narrow beam of heat, hitting the target dead center. It burst into harmless sparks.
“That’s it!” Elisa cheered, her voice filled with encouragement. “You’re doing amazing!”
Emboldened by her support, Clark aimed at the next target, sending another controlled blast. As each one exploded in sparks, he felt his confidence rising, like he was finally beginning to understand this wild, unpredictable power. Elisa guided him, offering gentle suggestions, and together they moved through each target. Her presence was a steady reassurance, and each time he met her eyes, he felt a quiet strength flowing between them.
Finally, only the scarecrow remained, and Elisa stepped back, giving him space. With a look of determination, Clark focused, channeling the last surge of heat. This time, a precise, steady burst ignited the scarecrow, flames licking up its straw arms before settling into a controlled blaze.
As the scarecrow crackled and burned, Clark lowered his gaze, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The relief was overwhelming, and he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
Elisa’s smile was wide and proud as she moved closer, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You did it, Clark.”
He turned to her, his face softening with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without you, El. Really. Thank you.”
She shrugged, but her smile grew. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, a chuckle escaping him. “We do.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with warm hues, Clark draped his arm around Elisa’s shoulders in an unspoken gesture of thanks and closeness. They stood together for a moment, watching the last embers of the scarecrow die out. With her by his side, he felt a new kind of strength—a quiet, certain bond that needed no words.
“Let’s go home,” he murmured, his voice carrying a warmth she knew was for her alone.
Elisa nodded, leaning slightly into his side as they walked back together in comfortable silence. The night felt calm, the fields quiet, and with each step, Clark felt that maybe, just maybe, he could face whatever came next—because he wouldn’t be doing it alone.
2 Weeks Later
The halls of Smallville High buzzed with the usual energy as students rushed between classes. Elisa walked beside Clark and Chloe, her head held high, even though she could feel the eyes on her. A month had passed since the shooting, but the whispers hadn't faded. She was now "the girl who got shot," and every curious glance, every hushed conversation, seemed to revolve around her.
“Just ignore them, Elisa,” Chloe whispered, giving her an encouraging nudge.
Clark nodded in agreement, his voice low but reassuring. “People are just curious. They’ll move on.”
Despite their support, Elisa could still feel the weight of the stares. Just as she was trying to brush it off, Lana Lang approached, her usual confidence tempered with an unexpected shyness.
“Hey, Elisa,” Lana said, pausing awkwardly. “Are you… doing okay?”
Elisa blinked in surprise, but managed a small nod. “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, Lana.”
Lana gave a polite smile, glanced briefly at Clark, then moved on. Elisa and Chloe exchanged stunned looks.
“Did that just happen?” Chloe whispered, grinning.
Clark shrugged, amused. “Maybe she’s trying to be nice.”
The rest of the day crawled by, punctuated by whispers and sidelong glances. Elisa tried to tune them out, but it was a relief when the bell rang for lunch. She and Chloe grabbed a table in the cafeteria, sharing stories and laughter, Elisa finally managing to forget about the rumors—if only for a moment.
But then, a dull ache began to throb in Elisa’s temples. She tried to brush it off, but the pain sharpened, and suddenly, an image flashed in her mind—a place she didn’t recognize, bathed in strange shadows. She gasped softly, clutching her head as the room spun.
“Elisa?” Chloe’s voice sounded far away, concerned.
Elisa blinked, the image fading as quickly as it had come, leaving only a pounding headache. She took a steadying breath, not wanting to worry Chloe. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, forcing a smile. “Just a headache.”
But her attempt to play it off was short-lived. The pain intensified, and before she could react, her knees buckled. Chloe caught her arm, but Elisa was already sinking to the floor.
By the time Clark reached them, a small crowd had formed. Chloe looked up at him, worry in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. She just collapsed.”
Clark knelt beside Elisa, his concern plain. “Come on, I’m taking you home,” he murmured, his voice gentle.
Their teacher approached, her expression alarmed. “What’s going on here?”
Clark didn’t hesitate. “Elisa isn’t feeling well. I’m taking her home.”
The teacher nodded, and as Clark helped Elisa to her feet, he guided her out of the cafeteria, ignoring the curious stares. Once they were outside and away from the crowds, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in his arms as he carried her home.
Back home, Elisa found herself surrounded by the worried faces of Martha, Jonathan, Clark, and even Krypto, whose anxious whines only made her feel more smothered. The concern etched on each of their faces heightened her irritation, but she knew it was only because they cared.
Martha, her voice laced with motherly concern, knelt beside her. "What happened, sweetheart? Should we take you to the ER? Maybe it's too soon for you to be back at school?"
Elisa sighed, trying to brush it off. "It’s just a headache, Mom. I had a weird dream during lunch—nothing serious."
Jonathan frowned, his expression serious. "Elisa, you fainted in school. This isn’t just a headache. I’m calling Remus."
Elisa shook her head vigorously, her protests spilling out. "No, Dad, please! I’m fine. I really don’t need him to come here."
"Sweetheart, you fainted," Jonathan said firmly, his gaze steady as he pulled out his phone. "We can’t just ignore that."
"No doctors, please!" Elisa pleaded, a mix of frustration and fear creeping into her voice.
Clark, standing nearby, looked from Jonathan to Elisa, his brow furrowed. "Maybe it’s a good idea, El. Just to be safe."
Jonathan nodded in agreement. "I’m not taking any chances. We need to make sure you’re alright."
Martha stepped into the kitchen, trying to ease the tension. "I'll make you some soup, dear. It might help."
Sinking deeper into the cushions, Elisa realized she wasn’t going to win this one. The weight of her family’s worry both irritated and comforted her in equal measure. Despite her protests, she couldn’t deny that it felt nice—having people who cared enough to fuss over her, even Krypto, who hadn’t left her side.
As she took a slow sip of the soup Martha prepared, she glanced up, catching her dad's unwavering gaze. "Thanks, Dad. Really," she finally conceded, though a part of her wished it hadn’t come to this.
When Remus arrived, just a short while after Martha’s call, he stepped into the living room with an air of calm professionalism. He greeted everyone with a reassuring smile, but Elisa noticed the slight furrow in his brow as he approached her.
“Let’s take a look, shall we?” he said gently, kneeling beside the couch where she sat propped up with a pillow. As he settled in, he flicked his wrist, and a soft, glowing light appeared at the tip of his wand. He moved it closer to Elisa's forehead, the gentle luminescence illuminating the dried blood from where she had fainted.
“Episkey,” he murmured, casting a spell to clean the wound. The dried blood vanished, leaving her skin unblemished. He then waved his wand again, uttering a few incantations under his breath. “Diagnosus,” he intoned, the wand shimmering as it scanned her forehead.
The glow from his wand pulsed, revealing faint outlines of her energy flow, and he could see slight disruptions in her aura. “Hmm,” he murmured, focusing his gaze. “There’s some residual energy here, but nothing too concerning.”
After a moment, he raised his wand, adjusting the angle to get a clearer read. “Revelio,” he said, and a soft breeze fluttered through the room, carrying with it a faint mist that shimmered in the air before dissolving.
“Everything appears stable,” he concluded, looking into her eyes. “But I want to be thorough. There may be something lingering beneath the surface.” He adjusted his stance and took a deep breath, preparing to cast a more detailed diagnostic spell. “Let’s see what else we can find,” he said, channelling his magic with renewed focus.
“Lumos,” he whispered, and the tip of his wand illuminated brighter, casting a warm glow that seemed to vibrate with energy. “Vitalis Detectus,” he continued, and a series of shimmering particles began to swirl around her, forming a halo of light.
Remus studied the patterns as they danced, and for a moment, he frowned. “There’s an unusual fluctuation in your energy,” he noted, the concern edging back into his voice. “But it’s not acute. It seems related to your fainting spell.”
Just as he finished his assessment, Clark interjected, his voice tight with worry. “But the scar on her forehead was bleeding, Remus. She even screamed before she fainted.”
Remus’s brow furrowed deeper at Clark’s words, and he felt a wave of unease wash over him. He glanced at Krypto, who had gone still, his eyes wide and concerned. In that moment, the silent exchange between them spoke volumes; they both knew that Elisa’s experience might be linked to something far more sinister.
“That changes things.” He could feel the weight of their worry settling heavily in the room. “This could be more serious than I initially thought.”
Jonathan leaned forward, urgency lacing his voice. “What do you mean, Remus? What’s going on?”
Martha’s hand flew to grab her husband’s arm, her expression shifting to one of alarm. “Is it something to do with Elisa’s injury?”
Remus took a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. “I think we need to consider the possibility that this is connected to Voldemort,” he said slowly, watching the shock register on their faces. “He’s back, and… well… we have to be on guard.”
“Voldemort?” Jonathan repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, realization dawning on him. “But how? We thought he was gone for good after what happened with... all those years ago.”
Remus nodded grimly. “We thought so too. But he’s returned, and his followers are rising again. I can’t ignore the signs. With what Elisa experienced—her fainting, the bleeding—it’s all too coincidental.”
“But Remus, in her world… they think she’s dead, don’t they?” Martha stepped forward, worry etched on her face. “Why should we be worried? Why would any of this affect Elisa now?”
“I know, Martha. I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted, visibly torn. “But Elisa is the only person known to have survived the Killing Curse. The mark on her forehead—it’s no ordinary mark. The curse left a kind of… connection. And today, when it bled… it couldn’t be just coincidence.”
Clark looked at him sharply. “So you think the vision she had—the flash of green light and her mother’s scream—that it’s because of… him?”
Remus hesitated, then nodded. “It’s possible. But I need to do some research. I’ll see if there’s anything recorded about similar experiences. I might even need to consult with… an old friend of mine.”
“Remus, we trust you,” Jonathan said firmly, though his eyes showed the worry he was trying to conceal. “Do what you need to do. And whatever you find out… we’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
Remus gave a solemn nod. “Thank you. I’ll look into this immediately. And, if anything else happens, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
As Remus left the house, Krypto bounded out after him, tail high and alert, his eyes fixed on Remus with an intensity that suggested more than just a loyal pet’s concern. Once they were out of sight of the house, Krypto transformed back into Sirius, his expression serious and focused. He looked at Remus, his eyes filled with unspoken worry, ready for a private word about Elisa.
Meanwhile in the house, Jonathan clenched his jaw, his fists tight at his sides. He wasn’t a man who scared easily, but hearing Voldemort’s name, knowing that this darkness might somehow reach their home, shook him. He reached for Martha’s hand, squeezing it as if grounding himself and her in the same gesture.
Martha’s eyes shimmered with a rare vulnerability. She took a shaky breath, one hand instinctively resting on Elisa’s shoulder in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Her calm exterior held firm, but within, a flicker of dread had taken root, something she couldn’t easily dismiss. Her heart ached to shield Elisa from this unseen threat, knowing all too well the limits of her protection against forces they barely understood.
Clark’s gaze remained fixed on Elisa, his concern unmistakable. His mind raced with questions he didn’t dare voice aloud, an unusual unease settling in his chest. He had seen Elisa’s strength time and again, her courage beyond question, but the idea of her facing something this sinister made him feel a helplessness he was unaccustomed to. His heart ached to do more, to somehow protect her from the shadows of a past that wasn’t even his.
Elisa sat silently, hands clasped together, her eyes on her lap. Her mother’s scream, the searing green light—these fragments of memory pulsed through her mind like echoes she couldn’t escape. Her fingers brushed over the scar on her forehead, its warmth a quiet reminder of that night, the one that had forever changed her. She glanced up, meeting the worried eyes of those around her, a flicker of determination settling in her own gaze. She refused to let them see her fear; she would face whatever lay ahead with the same resilience she always had.
A Month Later
The morning sun cast a warm glow over the Kent farm as Clark groggily stumbled into the kitchen. His fifteenth birthday had arrived, and he was met with the smell of pancakes and the sound of cheerful chatter.
"Happy birthday, dork!" Elisa greeted, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she handed him a neatly wrapped gift.
Clark was mid-bite, shovelling food into his mouth, and mumbled, “What is it?” through a mouthful.
“Clark!” Martha scolded, though a warm smile played at her lips.
Elisa grinned, urging, "Just open it and see."
Clark tore open the wrapping paper, revealing a small, polished key in his palm. He looked at her, confused.
"Come on!" She tugged him toward the door, practically dragging him outside. As they reached the driveway, Clark’s eyes widened in disbelief. "A truck? Are you serious?"
Jonathan watched from the kitchen doorway, a slight frown creasing his brow. It hadn’t sat well with him that Elisa had gone ahead and bought one of the most expensive trucks for Clark, despite their disagreement. The truck had cost more than he’d have ever considered spending, and with the recent financial strain, it was hard for him to accept.
In addition to the $50,000 she had insisted on giving him earlier, he now needed to pay her back for this truck as well. He silently hoped his loan would be approved soon. He wasn’t the kind of father to rely on his children’s money, but for today, he set his concerns aside. After all, it was his son’s birthday, and he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
As Clark started up the truck, a grin spread across his face, and Elisa couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was trying so hard to look cool behind the wheel.
“Look at you, dork,” she teased, nudging his arm. “Bet you’re feeling pretty invincible now, huh?”
“Maybe just a little,” he said, feigning modesty.
Clark tried to hide his grin, but Elisa caught the glint of excitement in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t get too cocky, dork,” Elisa teased, smirking. “You’ve driven like… what, ten minutes? I’m amazed you haven’t already run us into a ditch.”
He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Please, I’m doing way better than you did on your first drive.”
“Hey! I was amazing from day one,” she shot back, crossing her arms defensively. “And for the record, you screamed when I hit that squirrel.”
“It jumped in front of us!” he defended, eyes wide with mock offense. “Besides, I’d rather avoid any squirrel casualties on my birthday, thanks.”
“Oh, look at you, Mr. Hero. Saving squirrels now. You’re practically a saint.” She leaned over, ruffling his hair.
He batted her hand away, laughing. “Okay, first of all, stop messing with the hair—”
“Why? Worried your swoon-worthy locks will lose their charm?” she interrupted, batting her lashes dramatically. “Trust me, you’ve already maxed out on dorkiness. No amount of perfect hair’s gonna change that.”
Clark shook his head, a blush creeping up his neck as he kept his eyes on the road. “You know, it’s a good thing I don’t need to impress you. You’re a terrible audience.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather keep you humble. Imagine if your ego matched your muscles. We’d all be in trouble.”
They laughed together, the easy banter filling the cab of the truck as they turned down a quiet road. After a moment, Elisa glanced over at him, her tone softening.
“Seriously, Clark… I know I give you a hard time, but… I’m proud of you. You’re growing up so fast, even if you’re still my favorite dork.”
Clark’s heart swelled at her words, and he turned to meet her gaze, warmth and gratitude softening his smile. “Thanks, El. You’re the best, you know that?”
She gave a small shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. “Well, I figured you could use someone to keep you in line.”
“Guess I lucked out, then,” he replied quietly, his gaze lingering on hers. Then, suddenly feeling the moment's weight, he reached over and pulled her into a tight hug.
Elisa melted against him, resting her head on his shoulder and teased, “You have no idea how lucky you really are.”
Clark tightened his hold, a grin breaking across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I mean, who else would put up with my obsession with video games and superhero movies?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. You’re a total softy,” she shot back playfully, pulling back to poke him in the side. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just using me for my unmatched taste in snacks.”
“Okay, maybe the snacks are a big factor,” he admitted with a laugh. “But I’m pretty sure I’d still keep you around for your amazing personality. And, you know, your ability to make me laugh when I’m having a bad day.”
“Aw, look at you getting all mushy!” she teased, giving him a mock gasp. “What would the other cool kids say?”
Clark chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’d probably say I’m the luckiest dork alive for having you by my side. You’re basically my secret weapon. You keep me grounded, even if I’m the genius in the studies department.”
“Genius? More like ‘bookworm.’ But I guess that’s not a bad thing,” she shot back playfully, pulling back to poke him in the ribs. “Without me, you’d probably get lost in all those textbooks.”
Clark laughed, leaning in closer with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Well, maybe I’d rather get lost in a world where you’re the one leading the way. You have this amazing ability to turn the ordinary into something special.”
Elisa felt her heart flutter at his words, a warm blush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh, so now I’m your fearless leader? Just wait until you see my top-tier recommendations for snack stops! They’re legendary.”
“I’d follow your lead anywhere—even to the best snack spots,” he replied, his tone shifting to something more sincere. “But honestly, navigating this whole thing called life is a lot easier with you around. You keep me grounded.”
“Grounded, huh? So, I’m your anchor?” she teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Careful, or I might start charging you rent for all this emotional support!”
He chuckled, nudging her shoulder. “You’re priceless, and not just for your snacks. I mean it, El. You bring the fun to everything. I’d be a total bore without you.”
Elisa paused, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. “You know, it’s a pretty good deal to have you as my partner in crime, even if you’re a giant dork.”
“A giant dork who thinks the world of you,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly, sincerity creeping in. “I don’t know how you do it, but you make everything feel… right.”
Her heart raced at his honesty, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted. “I guess it’s just because you make me feel like I can be myself. There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”
“Same here,” he said, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “We’re a pretty awesome team, you and I.”
“An unbeatable duo,” she echoed softly, her heart swelling. “No one else I’d rather have by my side in this adventure.”
“Forever, right?” he asked, his teasing grin fading just enough for sincerity to seep in, a hint of vulnerability threading through his voice.
“Absolutely,” she replied, her tone steady as she met his gaze. “No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”
Clark nodded, the weight of her words settling between them, grounding him against the swirling worries in his mind. He didn’t say it out loud, but he needed to hear that—needed the reassurance that she would always be there. He felt the unsteady pulse of fear at the thought of losing her, but he knew he had to keep that to himself.
“Good, because I don’t think I could handle it if you did,” he said instead, trying to keep the mood light.
Elisa sensed the tension beneath his laughter and reached out, taking his hand in hers, a comforting squeeze meant to reassure him. “Hey, you’ve got me for better or worse. We’re in this together. Always.”
Their eyes locked, and the connection between them deepened, grounded in the understanding that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would always stand together, ready to face whatever came their way.
A Month Later
Clark stopped short as soon as he entered the living room and called, “Er… El…?”
“What?” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the letter she was reading.
He blinked at the owl perched on the windowsill and said, “There’s another one.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, a bright smile breaking across her face. “Neville sent a letter!”
“Oh,” Clark muttered, a knot of disappointment twisting in his stomach. He couldn’t quite grasp why her excitement over this boy from London stirred a pang of jealousy in him. She had gone to her world, a place that felt so far removed from their everyday life, and now she was connecting with someone new. They had exchanged six letters in two months, and suddenly she was practically buzzing with energy over a piece of ‘parchment’.
“What did he say?” he asked, trying to mask his uncertainty.
“Their new professor is absolutely horrid, refusing to believe that you-know-who is back and has banned them from practicing magic because they’re kids.” She air-quoted the letter, frustration bubbling over for Neville's sake.
“Oh.”
As Elisa huffed angrily and took the letter up to her room, Krypto followed closely, never straying from her side.
The atmosphere felt heavy with her frustration, leaving Clark standing alone in the living room, the shadows of his own insecurities creeping in. He couldn’t shake the feeling of isolation, watching her retreat into her world, where she seemed happier than she had been with any of them for a long time.
In the loft, Clark found himself staring blankly at the wall, a heavy weight settling in his chest. For the first time, a profound sense of loneliness wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as he reflected on how Elisa was making new friends—wizards and witches who shared her magical heritage, people she should have grown up with.
These were her people, while he felt like an intruder in a world that was not his own. As the reality of this sank in, his frustration twisted into deep sadness and fear. The loft, once a sanctuary filled with their shared laughter and dreams, now felt hollow, echoing with the silent cries of his inner turmoil.
The thought of Elisa finding her place among her own kind gnawed at him. The fear that she might eventually leave him behind clawed at his insides. Would she find solace and understanding with them, leaving him feeling even more like an outsider in his own life? He questioned whether he was enough for her. Did he truly belong in a world that felt so foreign?
The quiet of the loft amplified the storm raging inside him. His frustration morphed into a sharp anger at the deep-seated feelings of loneliness that engulfed him. He had never felt this vulnerable, this painfully aware of the growing distance between them. While Elisa was surrounded by her kindred spirits, he felt like a stranger desperately trying to find a place in a world that seemed determined to keep him at bay.
That sense of alienation intensified his isolation. The barn, once a haven of comfort and warmth, now felt stifling, closing in around him. His hands clenched into fists as he grappled with emotions that felt foreign and unwelcome.
He longed to be enough for Elisa, to share in her world and be an integral part of her life. But the barriers created by their differences loomed larger than ever, casting shadows over their connection. The loft, a place where he had always sought solace, had transformed into a crucible for his turmoil, amplifying every echo of his frustrations.
As he sat in silence, the harsh reality washed over him: despite the strength of their bond, there were aspects of Elisa's life that he might never fully grasp or be a part of. The thought of losing her to the very world that brought her so much joy was nearly unbearable. In that moment, he felt more alone than he ever had before, haunted by the fear that he was slipping away from her, just as she was finding her place among those who understood her completely.
A few days later, Clark hung up the phone, a curious expression on his face. Elisa, noticing the look, arched a brow and asked, "What was that about?"
"That was Pete," Clark replied. "He asked me to bring the truck to the Luther field."
Elisa's interest piqued. "What for?"
Clark shrugged; his expression cryptic. "He said I wouldn’t believe him until I see it with my own eyes."
Elisa mirrored his curiosity, a spark of excitement in her gaze. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go see what Pete's up to."
She grabbed her jacket and hurried towards the door. As they stepped outside, Krypto, their loyal companion, wagged his tail excitedly. Elisa grinned and gestured for him to join. "Come on, Krypto. You're coming with us!"
The trio made their way to the Kent farm's garage, where the red truck sat, ready for the journey. Clark took the driver's seat, Elisa settled in beside him, and Krypto happily hopped into the back.
"Pretty mind-blowing, huh?" Pete exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement as they stood before the ship—one they had all believed was lost during the tornado.
Elisa and Clark shared a glance, their expressions mirroring each other’s shock. The ship loomed above them, an unexpected sight that both thrilled and unnerved them. Not knowing what else to say, Clark blurted out, “What do you think it is?”
Elisa rolled her eyes at his vague question just as Pete replied enthusiastically, “Oh, Clark, it’s a spaceship! What the hell else would it be?”
“Clark’s right, Pete,” Elisa interjected, her brow furrowing with concern. “What if it’s some downed specialty aircraft or a Russian satellite or something?”
“No, no, no,” Pete insisted, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the ship. “This thing’s got extra-terrestrial written all over it.”
“Yeah,” Clark added, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I bet there are little green guys running around the cornfield too, Pete.”
“I’m serious, you guys,” Pete said, glancing back at the ship with wide eyes. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Elisa crossed her arms, scepticism etched across her face. “If the aliens came to Earth, don’t you think they’d find a place a little more exciting than Smallville?”
“We’ll see about that,” Pete replied with determination. “Now, help me load it into the truck!”
“Wait, you’re not just gonna take it?” Clark questioned, sensing the unease in his chest grow.
“Clark, when the sheriff questioned me about the accident, I told him in all the confusion I couldn’t remember where the truck went off the road. But it’s only a matter of time before he shows up,” Pete explained urgently, glancing around as if expecting someone to appear at any moment. “Come on. Come on!”
Elisa stepped in, a flicker of doubt crossing her face as she suggested, “All right, fine. We’ll take it to our house.”
“We’re taking it to my house. We’ll hide it in the tool shed in my backyard. No one ever goes back there,” Pete insisted, his tone leaving little room for negotiation.
“Elisa is right, Pete,” Clark added, desperation creeping into his voice. “Our house would be perfect. It'll be safe there.”
“Last time I checked, I found this thing. You guys are acting like you got a license and registration on it. Lighten up. We're taking it to my place,” Pete argued, the stubbornness in his voice rising.
Elisa glanced at Clark, their silent exchange revealing the concern brewing beneath the surface. He gave her a barely perceptible nod, as if encouraging her to take action.
Not knowing what else to do, Elisa pulled out her wand hidden in her boots, heart racing with anxiety. She pointed it at Pete, her voice trembling slightly as she called out, “Stupefy!”
Pete flew back and fell unconscious, and a shocked silence fell over them. Clark gaped at Pete, bewildered, while Krypto looked from Pete to Elisa, seemingly unfazed as he continued sniffing around the spaceship.
“Elisa!” Clark exclaimed, torn between shock and amusement. “You can’t just stun people because you’re panicking!”
“I didn’t know what else to do!” she defended herself, breathless and wide-eyed. “He was about to take the spaceship to his place, and we can’t let that happen.”
Clark sighed, realization washing over him as he understood the weight of their situation. His gaze softened as he looked at her, and for a moment, the chaos around them faded. “Okay, okay. Let’s get Pete into the truck and take him home. We’ll figure this out.”
As Clark loaded the unconscious Pete into the truck, he caught Elisa’s eye again and shook his head. Krypto obediently hopped into the back, and as they drove away from the Luther field, the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty, yet they both found comfort in knowing they wouldn’t face the unknown alone.
Pete groggily woke up in the Kent home, finding himself on the couch. Martha Kent, wearing a warm and concerned smile, handed him a glass of water.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asked, her motherly instincts taking over.
Pete rubbed his head, trying to shake off the remnants of the stunning spell. “I feel like I got hit by a truck. What happened?”
Martha sat down beside him, concern deepening in her eyes. “You fainted. I called your mom, and she’s on her way to pick you up.”
Once Martha had left the room, Pete looked around, noticing the worry etched on Clark and Elisa's faces. “Okay, spill it. What’s going on?” he demanded, his tone sharp.
Clark exchanged a hesitant glance with Elisa before sighing heavily. “It’s about the spaceship, Pete.”
“You guys bought it with you?” Pete’s eyes widened in disbelief, a flicker of excitement mixed with confusion.
Elisa nodded solemnly, her expression serious. “Yeah, and we hid it in our cellar.”
Pete’s expression shifted from disbelief to anger in an instant. “You hid it without telling me? What the hell, guys? I was the one who found it!”
Clark tried to explain, his voice calm yet strained. “Pete, we didn’t know what it is, and we didn’t want anyone else involved.”
“So, you decided to play heroes without me? You’re keeping secrets again, just like you always do!” Pete shot back, frustration evident in his posture.
Clark stared at Pete, torn between loyalty to his friend and the necessity of keeping certain things hidden. “It wasn’t like that, Pete,” he said, his voice trailing off as he felt the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders.
Pete shook his head, disbelief and anger flaring in his eyes. “You guys think you can handle this without me? I’m done with this! I can’t believe you would just—” He paused, frustration boiling over, then turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Elisa stepped closer to Clark, her brow furrowed with concern. “He’ll come around, Clark. He just needs some time to cool off,” she said softly, hoping to ease the tension.
Clark didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the door through which Pete had left, the echo of their friend’s anger ringing in his ears. The weight of secrecy and the strain it put on his friendships pressed down on him, and he knew the truth was a burden he wasn’t ready to share.
“I just wish I could tell him everything,” he finally murmured, frustration and sadness intertwining in his voice.
Later that night, Clark returned home, the weight of his earlier conversation with Pete still heavy in his chest. He found his parents and Elisa gathered in the living room, their faces reflecting concern and curiosity.
“Clark, where have you been?” Martha asked, her voice laced with worry.
“I had a talk with Pete,” Clark replied, trying to gauge their reactions. “He knows about me. I told him everything.”
“Son…” His father gaped, disbelief transforming into anger. “You shouldn’t have—”
“I know what I did,” Clark interrupted, frustration bubbling up inside him. “But I can’t keep hiding anymore. I’m tired of pretending.”
“Do you even understand the consequences of what you just did?” Jonathan snapped, his protective instincts flaring. “You could be putting yourself and your family in danger!”
“Maybe I’m already in danger by keeping secrets!” Clark shouted back, his voice echoing in the tense silence. “You don’t understand what it’s like to carry this weight alone!”
Martha stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Clark, honey, please, just take a breath. You have to think about the implications.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Elisa asked, her tone gentle but worried.
He was already feeling angry. Clark shrugged, brushing off their concerns as he paced the room. “It’s my life, and I want to live it without secrets. I don’t want to feel alone anymore.”
“Alone?” Jonathan’s voice rose, anger flaring in his eyes. “Do you really think telling him everything is going to fix that? You’re just making everything a hundred times more complicated!”
“I trust him!” Clark shot back, frustration spilling over. “I’m done living in fear!”
“Clark…” Elisa’s voice trembled, confusion and hurt lacing her words. “Please, just think this through—”
“Think it through?” he snapped, his anger bubbling to the surface. “You’re the last person who should be telling me that! You act like you know what it’s like to hide who you are, but you don’t! You’re a hypocrite!”
With those biting words, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving behind the stunned silence and the hurt radiating from Elisa.
As the door clicked shut, the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. He felt a rush of independence, but it was quickly overshadowed by a gnawing ache of uncertainty. He had never spoken to Elisa like that before, and the hurt in her eyes lingered in his mind.
Outside, the cool night air brushed against his skin as he took a deep breath, searching for clarity in the solitude. Yet, as he walked away from the warmth of home, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had hurt someone he deeply cared for, and now he was about to face the consequences of his choices alone.