Okay, this story has been completely revamped. This was my first fanfic, and I kinda sucked at it then. Not that I'm anything special at this point, but still. Hopefully all of the stupid mistakes are gone. Enjoy! I own nothing.
Clark gasped in pain. He vaguely heard Chloe's screams, Gabriel's harsh justification to her for what he had just done, and, finally, his car driving away.
He's taken Chloe! thought Clark with desperation. I need to get to her, I need to save her! The entire town is going to be blown up! These thoughts went through his head, telling him to take immediate action to save the town and the people that he loved, but he couldn't move.
He was hurt. This can't be…I'm never hurt…I can't get shot, I can take bullets! He had forgotten. He no longer had his abilities. Why was he so selfish? He had given them up to be with Lana, to live a normal life, and look where it had gotten him. What had ever made him think that he deserved to be normal? His stupid decision would destroy the town, killing not only himself but everyone he ever really cared about, ever really loved. The woman he wanted to marry, his best friend, his parents…
Warm blood dripped from Clark's mouth. He couldn't breathe. He brought his hands slowly to his wound, trying feebly to stem the flow of blood, and found himself on his knees. The ground was spinning…the pain was unbearable…he shut his eyes, fell back, and gave in to darkness.
Clark was being pushed. He felt oxygen being forced into his lungs, the prick of the needle shoved into his arm, and many hands pushing on his chest and pushing back his hair. Where am I? It came to him then…the hospital. Some farmer must have found him and called 911. It worried Clark that he had no recollection of any of this happening. He must have been out for at least twenty minutes. Time had been wasted, he needed to warn them…tell them about the missile, about Gabriel, about Chloe…As he tried to do so, however, something worried him more than anything. He couldn't open his eyes.
"We have a gunshot wound."
"Victim is male, eighteen years old, possible collapsed lung and internal bleeding."
"Emergency surgery is needed. We need to see the extent of the damage."
Chloe struggled against her restraints. She was tied to a chair, in one of the many missile silos of Smallville, about to become witness to the destruction of the town she had spent the majority of her life in. Tears flowed freely down her face as she recalled what had happened earlier to Clark, but she couldn't let herself think about it. Clark was okay, he had to be okay. He always was.
Lana quietly opened the door to Clark's room, and walked cautiously in. She wasn't supposed to be in there, but she had to come nonetheless. She had to make sure that he knew how she felt about him.
There he was, underneath a thin white sheet, with no shirt on – making the bloodstained bandage that covered his gunshot wound painfully clear to her. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be sleeping. He looked serene, almost as if he were sleeping in on a Sunday morning. Just as he had looked when she had woken up earlier. A heart monitor beeped steadily next to his bed.
She approached his unconscious form, tears welling in her eyes, and took a seat next to where he lay. She looked down at his face and ran her fingers through his hair, recalling how happy they were only a mere forty minutes ago. She had never felt so full of love as she had then, and remembered with a slight grin how her biggest worry was how Mr. Kent had reacted to the news that they had slept together the previous night.
"I don't even know if you can hear me," said Lana quietly, "but there are some things I have to tell you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew that no one could make me happier. All those times I pulled away are because I knew this day would come. I knew you would always be out there, trying to save the world, and I was scared of getting to close for fear that this might happen."
To Lana's extreme surprise, Clark opened his eyes, turned his head, and looked up at her; the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile.
Lana smiled and choked back a sob of relief, touching the side of his face. Everything was going to be okay now, she knew it.
A long, steady beep startled her out of her slight reverie. Clark had closed his eyes, and his head had slumped back to the side. She then realized what the beep was. The heart monitor.
"No!" She sobbed. "Clark!"
Tears streamed down her face as she cried, unable to control herself. Doctors and nurses had rushed into the room to attend to Clark, and pushed her out.
"You aren't supposed to be in here, Ms. Lang," said one of the nurses. "You need to leave now."
She complied, but after she left, she observed what was happening through the window to Clark's room. She covered her mouth with her hand, and watched anxiously – heart fluttering into her throat – as the doctors got out the defibrillators and stuck them to his chest.
"Clear!" a nurse yelled. The shock traveled through Clark's body, causing his limp form to jerk up. The nurse then placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose in the perhaps feeble hope that he would breathe it in.
This cycle continued for a couple of minutes, with no response whatsoever from Clark. To Lana's horror, the nurse removed the oxygen mask and put away the defibrillators. No! she panicked. Keep going! You can't give up! He can't be dead!
The nurse looked sadly down at Clark's motionless body.
"I'm calling this one. Time of death, 7:13 a.m."
"NO!" cried Lana, this time out loud. "CLARK!"
Ignoring protests from the doctors and nurses, Lana rushed into the hospital room and to the side of the bed. She caressed his face, and, as an incredulous dizziness took hold, found that it was already losing its warmth. The tears came harder, and was forced out of the room by the nurse who had attempted to save him earlier. Clark was dead. Everyone she ever loved had died, including her parents, Ryan, Evan, and every one of her boyfriends.
She gripped the side of the hallway for balance, and walked slowly into the lobby, to face Mr. And Mrs. Kent.
Chloe was panicking. The missile was going to be launched in five minutes, and Gabriel had proved himself to be crazier than she had ever realized. There would be no reasoning with him. He actually believed that killing people was the answer to getting rid of Smallville's meteor freaks, as there were bound to be more after the most recent meteor shower – a clear justification, in his mind, for the murder of thousands of innocent people. Not that the kid had ever had a chance, given who his father was.
He wanted Chloe alive solely to write his story, what he had called the "story of a lifetime." Chloe had never cared less for writing for the Daily Planet. At this point, she was the only one who could do anything to stop Smallville from being obliterated.
Clark isn't going to come, she told herself. It's up to you now. Gabriel was completely absorbed with the computers, and wasn't paying much attention to her. She contorted her hands painfully behind her and attempted to untie the knot keeping her attached to the chair. To her surprise, it began to loosen. Her feet were still fastened together, but if she could only get her hands untied…
She had it. Her hands were free. She grabbed a crowbar, which she figured Gabriel had kept as a weapon, and bent down to untie her feet. When she was completely mobile, she crept silently up behind Gabriel. He turned around, but before he had a chance to react, she hit him over the head with the long piece of metal. He fell like a rock, out cold.
Okay, Chloe, she told herself. You have one minute. You can do this…She typed in multiple password combinations into the computer, and every time received the red, glaring message "ACCESS DENIED". The clock was ticking down. Of course! Chloe hastily typed in her final combination, the same password she had used to access Lionel Luthor's internet account a couple of years ago. To her delight, she read "ACCESS GRANTED" on the screen. The rest was easy. Using her expertly honed computer-hacking skills, she successfully cancelled the planned launch of the missile. She had saved Smallville. Suddenly, she felt something cold pressed against the back of her head. A gun.
"Don't move, Chloe. If you let me back on this computer, I won't have to kill you. You still need to write my story, remember, I expected more out of you!"
"Gabriel, I can't let you do this... I am not letting you kill innocent people."
Before he could respond, Chloe had spun around and grabbed the gun. She knew she had the time to do so, because Gabriel was hesitant to shoot…he didn't want to kill her. They both struggled with the gun. Chloe pushed it down, and easily overpowered the weakened Gabriel, still seeing stars from the head injury.
The gun went off, splattering Gabriel's blood on the glass in front of the missile – the smoke from which had started to diminish as the fires cooled.
Lionel Luthor's eyes opened. He was in a small room, in a straight jacket, surrounded by hundreds of unfamiliar symbols drawn on the walls. He had no recollection of why he was there, but somehow he knew that he would be normal from now on. The reason for the symbols and his loss of memory was dead.
This is so much better than it used to be, though still not great by any means. Review, please! They are always appreciated!