In Your Shoes
Clark slowly opened his eyes, letting the bright morning light in. No. It's too early. Want to sleep. Go away, Mom.
"Chloe?" He heard his mother say. "Wh-what are you doing?"
Chloe? What was Chloe doing here? And this early in the morning?
He blinked to clear his eyes. Martha Kent was staring straight at him, looking slightly confused and annoyed.
Oh no. Please, no. Please don't pull the blankets off again. It's so cold. I wish I'd slept in something more than my boxers.
"Mom, no." He said. "Not in the holidays. I'll get up… later." Clark started a little when he spoke. His voice sounded oddly high, but in the end, he put it down to sleep deprivation.
"Chloe, honey," Martha knelt down beside the bed. "You're at the Kent's'."
She's staring straight at me. Where's Chloe? I thought she was talking to Chloe? She called me Chloe. Wait. Oh my god…
Clark moved his hand on his stomach. It felt flat and strangely soft. Dreading what he might find, he warily allowed his hand to drift north of his stomach.
Jonathan jumped up out of his seat when he heard a shrill scream coming from upstairs. He ran up the stairs two at a time, dashing in the door of Clark's room. Martha was standing, shocked, in the middle of the room.
"What is it?" Jonathan asked anxiously. "Why did you scream?"
"It wasn't me, Jonathan…" Martha trailed off, and moved aside to reveal an incredibly shocked, confused and basically terrified Chloe sitting up in Clark's bed, apparently naked, or topless at least, holding the sheets up around her chest.
"Chloe! What are you doing here?" Jonathan asked in shock, moving over and joining Martha beside the bed, awaiting an explanation.
Clark was too terrified to bother about breaking it gently to his parents. The shock had set in, and he was trembling.
"Mom! Dad! It's me, Clark! I don't know how this happened! How did this happen?" His words came in a rush, Chloe's voice startling him as it came out of his mouth. He was hyperventilating.
His Mom and Dad just stared at him, at a loss for words.
"From outer space." He said, confirming his true identity.
Martha took a shaky breath, on the verge of tears, for now she knew for sure that this was her son.
"C-Clark!" She whispered. Jonathan just stared at him, dumbstruck.
Martha leaned forward to embrace him, crying fully now. Clark was about to accept the gesture, when he remembered the purpose of the sheets bunched up at his chest. Martha caught on, and stood up, trying to disguise the lingering element of shock on her face, but failing.
'I-I'll get you some clothes… Clark." She stammered uneasily, and hurried away into her bedroom to pick and outfit for her 'son', leaving Clark alone with Jonathan, who was still staring stupidly at him.