Lana stared at the picture of Clark, tracing the edges wistfully with her fingers. She wondered idly when it had been taken, then guessed recently judging from its look. There were so many pictures on the mantle, mostly of Clark. She put it back, adjusting it so it was in the exact spot she’d found it. So many memories were here, she marveled to herself. Even though she’d been Clark’s friend since he’d been adopted, she was amazed with how little she knew about him. She could remember odd moments in school or at elsewhere, but where had this photo been taken, she asked herself, looking at another picture. What about this one; or that one? How well did she know him, she asked herself. How well did she know anyone? Suddenly Lana was wracked with a terrible fear. She wanted him back, right here and now, back with her. She wanted to tell him… tell him something.

She sighed and stepped back, shaking her head. She was just running the same circles in her mind she always seemed to run these days. Ever since Clark and Chloe had started going out, she’d been happy for them, they were both such great friends to her and really cared for each other. But every time she saw them together, something ached in her stomach. It almost felt like jealousy, maybe even regret. But it was all so confusing to her; she had loved, did love, Whitney and he loved her. Chloe had had a crush on Clark for as long as she could remember, and now he had finally realized it. Everything should have been perfect. But it wasn’t. Instead, she was left with that dull pain in her gut and a feeling of regret, of having lost something, something precious. Had it been him, Clark Kent? Was that it, she asked herself. Had she lost Clark, not Clark as a friend, but as something else. Had he-

There was a sudden crash from the other room that made her jump and cry out in surprise. She whirled around to stare as Jonathon pulled the entire phone casing off the wall, ripping bits of plaster off with it. The telephone line trailed after it for a second, and then snapped off as he dropped the phone to the floor loudly. Martha and Chloe gaped at him, too shocked to speak. Pete and Lex stood behind Jonathon, watching impassively.

“Jon,” Martha stammered finally, staring at her husband, “what are you doing?”

He prodded the phone with his foot and then smiled at her. “Just making sure you don’t make any more phone calls, dear,” he told her brightly. “Sorry about the mess though. I’ll clean it up later, don’t worry.”

“But the phone,” she said again. “Why?”

“Oh,” he said suddenly and turned to Lex, “I almost forgot. You’ve got a cell phone right?” he asked him.

“Good thinking,” Lex said, pulling it out of his coat, “I wouldn’t have remembered.” He dropped it to the kitchen floor and then stomped down on it, breaking the phone into pieces.

“Uhh… Lex, Mr. Kent, what’s going on here?” Chloe asked fearfully, backing up.

“Orders, Chloe,” Pete shrugged. He took a few steps forwards, standing with Lex and Jonathon. “We stirred up a little bit of trouble here, and the only way we can put it right is to make sure we don’t cause anymore.”

“That’s why we’re all going to sit tight now,” Jonathon added. “Just wait things out.”

“And what about Clark?” Lana asked.

“Clark will be back in his own time, don’t worry,” Lex said easily. “She promised to take good care of him.”

Something lurched in Lana’s stomach as it all came together. “That wasn’t the police just now, was it?” she asked them. The three men just smiled quietly at her.

“Oh my God,” Chloe muttered, her eyes going wide. She was silent for a moment and then she exploded, “That bitch! She called us up! She had the nerve to call us up!”

Pete glanced over at Jonathon. “Where should we put them?” he asked idly.

“Basement would probably be best,” he said. “I’ll take Martha; you boys will have to handle the girls.” Lex and Pete nodded and then, almost as one, they dove forwards towards the girls. Instantly the room was full of movement as Chloe, Martha, and Lana scrambled to get away. Chloe leapt backwards, falling over the couch and onto the floor beside it. Lana saw Lex sprang over it after her, but then she was dodging away from Pete, who was charging after her like a linebacker. She jumped behind a chair, trying to keep it between them, but Pete was too fast for her. With instincts sharpened on the football field, he faked twice and she fell for it. He sprung around the chair and tackled her.

“Careful, Pete,” Jonathon snapped from the other side of the room. He was holding his struggling wife in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her side. “We don’t want to hurt them.” As he said this, Martha yelled and drove her heel into his foot. He grimaced and then chucked her over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes. “Sorry, Martha, but this is for the best,” he said between clenched teeth.

“But Clark!” Lana gasped, struggling on the floor with Pete. He had one of her arms pinned behind her and was trying to catch her other one fast. “You can’t listen to Sarah, you have to fight!”

“Sarah’s just watching out for Clark,” Lex remarked, struggling with Chloe. He turned to glance at Lana. “I’m sure she’ll take good care of him,” he promised her with a sneer.

“That’s it!” Chloe screamed and drove her legs upwards, kicking Lex off of her. She lurched to her feet, staring around at Lana and Martha. She had only started towards Lana when Lex threw himself at her, carrying her into the kitchen with his momentum. With a roar, he flung her bodily onto the cabinets. She lay there limply as pots and pans came crashing down around her. Lex stared at her for a moment, and then stumbled back into the living room.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Everything okay?” he gasped at Pete and Jonathon, wiping his brow.

“Great,” Pete wheezed, still fighting with Lana. Finally he succeeded in catching hold of her free wrist and started to twist it back behind her. With no other recourse, Lana twisted her head around and bit down deeply into Pete’s arm. She tasted blood as he cursed and let go of her.

“Little help here,” Pete shouted, but before Lex could even start to move, there was a sudden hollow clang and he stiffened. His eyes glazed over as he fell forward, unconscious. Chloe stood behind him with a cast iron frying pan in her hand, blood dripping freely from her nose. Pete took one look at her and scrambled to his feet, forgetting Lana. As he dashed at Chloe, Lana kicked her feet out in between his legs, making him stumble forwards. Chloe met him head on, swinging the pan like a Louiville Slugger. There was another dull clang as the pan impacted with his skull and Pete fell besides Lex.

The sight of both boys knocked unconscious had distracted Jonathon enough to let Martha struggle out of his grasp. She fell off his shoulder roughly, but managed to stay on her feet. Her husband tried to grab her again in a bear hug, but this time she was ready for him. Ducking under his arms, she kicked him fiercely in the crotch. His face went white and he dropped to his knees, staring blindly forwards as he held himself. Martha winced and almost reached out to help him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. Jonathon grunted, still staring blankly forwards. From behind him, Chloe swung the pan one last time and Jonathon fell over on his side.

“Chloe,” Martha gasped, “he was already down!”

“Oh, Sorry,” she panted, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She dabbed at her nose with her sleeve, trying to staunch the flow of blood. “Guess I got carried away.”

“Everyone alright?” Lana asked out loud, climbing to her feet shakily. Her knees were so weak that she had to support herself by clutching a chair just to stay standing. Martha and Chloe both nodded weakly, staring down at the three figures on the floor.

“I can’t believe…” Martha stammered, “I can’t believe that Jon… they would…”

“They didn’t have any choice,” Chloe said, still pressing her sleeve to her nose. “It was Sarah, she called them up, told them to do it.”

“But how could she? How could she make them attack us? My husband…” Martha choked up and knelt down by Jonathon, holding his head. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“It’s not your fault,” Lana tried to comfort her. “Or his either. He would’ve never done that if she hadn’t told him to. He couldn’t help himself, none of them could.”

“Yeah, if there’s anyone to blame, it’s Sarah,” Chloe rasped. She coughed and spit out a wad of blood, her face going a little green as she did.

“Chloe,” Martha said, seeing the state she was in, “we’d better get you to the hospital.”

“No,” she shook her head, “there’s no time. We have to get Clark back, right now.” The look in her eyes was enough to make Martha and Lana stare. “We’re the only ones that can do it.”

“But the police…” Lana trailed off.

“The police won’t believe us. What? Are we going to tell them that a girl has kidnapped one of our friends and that she can order any man to do whatever she wants? They’d never believe us; we’re going to have to do this one on our own.” Chloe looked at them and then tried to smile. “Besides, Clark’s saved us enough; I think we owe him one.”

Martha frowned for a moment, and then nodded. “We’ll take the truck,” she said curtly, starting towards the doorway. Chloe tossed the pan away and hurried after her. Lana spared one glance back at the boys then followed after the others.

“Crap,” Sarah muttered, flipping through the channels. Channels scrolled by almost too quickly to distinguish between them. “Crap. Crap. Seen it. Crap. Lame. Seen it.” She paused at one and then shuddered. “Uhh, MTV, mega-crap,” she said, flipping again. This continued for several minutes before something else caught her eye. “Ooh,” she said excitedly, “Passions.” She glanced towards the balcony quickly. “Clark! Passions is on,” she yelled. “Come in here and watch it with me.”

He wandered in from the balcony, where he’d been admiring the panoramic view of Metropolis that their suite provided them. She glanced out the windows and shuddered involuntarily. “How can you like it out there?” she asked him. “It makes me dizzy just thinking about how high we’re up.”

“Oh, heights don’t bother me,” he shrugged, sitting down on the couch. Sarah grinned at him then turned back to the TV. Instead of watching the program though, Clark sat there staring intently at her. Feeling his eyes on her, she started to get uncomfortable.

“Watch the show, Clark,” she said, exasperated.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized. He turned towards the TV and she sat back again. Soon though, she started to feel uncomfortable once more. Again and again, she glanced back towards Clark, sitting there like a statue, staring at the TV. It was so unnerving, she thought, irritably.

“So, do you like Passions?” she asked finally to break the silence.

“Do you want me to like Passions?” he asked her back. Sarah stared in shock at his response.

“Why? What do you mean?” she asked.

“Do you want me to like it?” he asked again. “’Cause I will if you want me to.”

“No, no, Clark.” She bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say. “I want you to like it here,” she told him finally. “If you don’t like the show, we can find something new to watch. Okay?”

“Do you want me to change the channel?” he asked her, puzzled.

“No! Why does every guy I talk to turn into an idiot?” She clicked the TV off and took his hand in hers. “Clark, this is important to me. I want you to be happy here with me. We can do whatever we want here, I can get us anything. I want to share this with you, do you understand?”

“That sounds nice,” he said happily. He smiled at her vacantly, gazing at her face. She sighed and leaned down, laying her head down on his knees. Immediately, he put his hands on her hair and started to stroke it gently.

“That feels nice,” she said happily. She closed her eyes, feeling more content and fulfilled than she ever had in her life. The feeling of his hands in her hair was heavenly, his strong fingers gently brushing through it slowly. She sighed and closed her eyes, starting to doze. “I love you, Clark,” she whispered to him.

“Do you want me to love you?” he asked her. Sarah woke up like she’d been doused with ice water. She sat up quickly, turning to stare at him. He smiled back at her pleasantly.

“What did you say?” she demanded. Her voice broke as she said it, making her voice raspy.

“I said, ‘Do you want me to love you?’” he smiled. She stared at him, too stunned to respond. “I can, you know,” he told her. “Just tell me to.”

“No,” she yelled, startling him. Calming down, she said more softly, “No, I don’t want to do that.” Taking his head in her hands, she moved him around till they were eye to eye. “Clark, you stayed with me because you love me,” she said forcefully. “That’s why you’re here. That’s why you came with me, right?”

“Whatever you say,” he said blithely.

“No, not whatever I say,” she shook her head angrily. Her fingers were pressing deep into his cheeks, but neither of them seemed to notice. “Tell me the truth, Clark. I want you to tell me the truth, alright?” He looked puzzled, but nodded at her. “Now, why did you come with me?”

“Because you told me to,” he said promptly. Something rose up in her throat, but she forced it down.

“Because I told you to?” she repeated in a whisper. “Because I told you to?” she said again. He nodded, gazing at her adoringly. Sarah could feel her heart beating in her chest, so loud, dangerously loud. She let go of his face to feel her pulse racing. Gasping, she sat back, blinking as the world seemed to swim before her eyes. It was all a lie, it had to be she told herself. He loved her, he did. He did. It wasn’t because of her voice, it was because of her, all of her, the love she’d carried for him since they were kids. It had to be.

But it wasn’t; somewhere deep inside her she knew it was true. Clark didn’t love her, he barely knew her. Her voice was the only thing holding him here. She broke suddenly, gasping and sobbing as tears poured out her eyes. Nothing had changed, she was still just the same old Sarah Sanderson, unpopular, unnoticed, unloved. Even with her voice, she couldn’t seem to change that. She was still alone. No matter how many men she could charm, she would always be alone.

“Sarah?” Clark asked, stepping nearer to her. She didn’t respond as he wrapped his arms around her. “Is everything all right? You’re trembling,” he said gently, rubbing her arms. “It’s alright,” he told her soothingly. “I’m here, it’s alright.” Slowly, she relaxed, coming back to herself as he held her. She rested her head against his shoulders and was quiet for the longest time. He waited, holding her gently in his arms.

Finally she raised her head and stared up at him. If he could have thought clearly, Clark would have been startled by how dull and lifeless her eyes looked. How sad and utterly empty they were. “Clark?” she asked him in a whisper. He nodded and looked down at her. “Love me,” she told him simply.