Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville; it is without prejudice property of The WB (2001–06), The CW (2006–11), Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, DC Comics, Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin/Robbins ProductionsWarner Bros. Television. I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas. All recognizable characters are not mine, merely my own creations. Nor do I own the Phillies just a fan. I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas.

Title: Morning Sickness

Author: Egyptian Sunrise

Rating: R (NC-17ish flashbacks)

Pairings: Chlark

Spoilers: Exile, AU season three and end of season two (so Clark and Chlo are 16, in this story since I forgot the birthdays on the show)

Warnings: Graphic sex flashbacks, teen pregnancy

Summary: All she had wanted was to bring him home. What she got was one blissful night with the boy she loved, before he had cast her out with a threat that he would disappear for good if she ever told where he was. She had left, in tears wearing only his shirt, determined to never breath a word of Clark Kent ever again…fate had other plans.

A/N: Chloe never made her deal with Lionel. He won't becoming into play for a while yet.

Chapter One:

Twelve Little Pink Lines

Pregnant

Six mocking little pink sticks.

Twelve little pink lines.

She was fucked, literally.

Chloe Sullivan was pregnant.

Chloe Sullivan was pregnant at sweet sixteen.

Oh how the students of Smallville High would celebrate, the downfall of the resident snoop. After years of her sniffing out their every secret, exposing their cheating on tests, affairs, and sometimes-violent meteor powers, they would relish this.

The knuckle draggers on the football team would gloat, jeer, and slander her. Call her easy, a whore; plaster her number on the locker room walls.

The girls would scowl, glare, stone her, and brand her with a scarlet letter 'A'.

Pete and Lana would stand by her at least until the paternity of her child leaked out.

Pete, to his credit would still be there come thick or thin, Lana however would turn on her faster than a rabid Doberman.

Clark Kent, lovable and goofy Clark Kent; had knocked up the intrepid little reporter one muggy night in Metropolis, three months ago. He would not get the ridicule-if he ever came back- he'd get the 'Way to go Kent, never knew you had it in 'ya.' 'Hey Kent, heard you deflowered Sullivan. Come on spill, how was she? A wildcat right. Ah, figured it's always the little ones.' While the girls simpered about how such a sweet boy had fallen into her trap. As everyone and their mother's knew, Chloe Sullivan had been in love with Clark Kent for years and Clark had always been in love with Lana Lang, and finally after so many years of pinning Lana loved Clark.

Sitting on the cold, ceramic tile of the bathroom floor, sobbing into her knees, Lana would never forgive her for this. For months she had told her friend to move on-because Clark had- and she was only hurting herself pinning for him. That wasn't a lie. Clark now called himself Kal, and had no qualms about seducing-not that he had to try very hard- his best friend. Only to boot her out on her ass with the sunrise, thank her for the easy fuck- told her never to come back- and with a devilish smirk slammed the door in her tear-streaked face.

After that, she had been determined to put Clark firmly in her past. She succeeded somewhat, her internship at the Planet distracted her during the day, but at night the tears came along with the feel of his hands caressing her body. Then a week ago, she had been in the copy room at the Planet filing copies of the early edition articles into color-coded baskets, hoping to steal a few moments to herself. Mostly, hoping to escape from the crushing smell of cigar, smoke that seemed to swirl around Margie Blue like a funnel cloud. Jimmy Olsen her fellow intern had popped up not even ten minutes later. His camera still looped around his neck, resting atop a blue and green bowling shirt, his bright orange and black bowtie lopsided as per usual. Jimmy had a not so subtle crush on her, in the beginning she had found it flattering.

Before her one night with Clark, she had been considering taking Jimmy up on his offer of dinner and a movie. Lana in particular had urged her to accept, as her friend and housemate had said that she deserved it. Despite the prying, Chloe continued to turn him down at every turn. Her dreams were consumed with someone, but it wasn't James Olsen and having been led on herself, she refused to do that to Jimmy. Jimmy however, would not be deterred. He had clumsily lifted himself atop the copier and this time offered up ice skating, hoping to entice her into a date. She had been opening her mouth to turn him down gently when she caught a potent whiff of his cologne. What happened next guarantied he would never be asking her out again. Her stomach rolled and she violently expelled her Caramel Latte with a double shot of espresso, all over his shirt. When her retching ceased, she had gasped an apology before her stomach gave a powerful jolt, spewing this time across his pants and shoes.

Stunted he had waved away her apology and hightailed it out of the room. Ever since he cringed when she walked into a room, and kept a good ten feet away from her at all times. Chloe's nausea however had not abated. The next time she had erupted, she had caught the scent of greasy hotdogs from the street vender setup outside the main doors of the Daily Planet. Luckily, that time she had been able to make it into the lobby bathroom before she blew like Mount St. Helens. Then it had been when her father had decided on spur of the moment to make his famous enchiladas. After she buried her head in the trashcan and puked neither her father or Lana had much of an appetite any longer, and she had been sent to bed with a cup of Theraflu and an empty trashcan. This had carried on for weeks before one day at the Talon, Pete had made a crack after her latest episode that if he hadn't known better he'd think that she had one in the oven.

Just like that, her world had come to a screeching halt. They hadn't used anything. At the time, she had been so caught up with the feeling of Clark's strong hands traveling over her heated flesh, his mouth nipping and sucking at her nipples through the lace of her bra. Rational thought had been left at the door, and when he slid gently-surprisingly- into her she had been consumed with the pain and pleasure of her first time. 'Kal', as he demanded she call him, had been surprisingly gentle. His kisses had been soft, yet frantic as he swallowed her moans of pleasure. Then he moved, and the Canadian's could have invaded Metropolis and she wouldn't give a fuck. Birth control had been the last thing on either of their minds.

Panicked she had run out on Pete, shouting a veg promise to call him later, jumped in her car and driven to Granville. Normally she would have driven straight for the local drug store, but Mrs. Wallace worked the cash register on Saturday afternoons and the last thing she wanted was that gossip blabbing her business. It would have been all over Smallville before the timer even dinged. Three hours later and here she was, sobbing on the bathroom floor. Now she knew, she was going to be a mother.

She laughed hysterically, her hands gripping the edge of the tub. "Way to go Sullivan, you just became a clichéd statistic."

"Honey?" her father's soft tone made her gasp. Standing in her room gazing worriedly at her through the open door, was her father. Still in his suit, fresh from the factory, he was the picture of fatherly concern. Peaking over his shoulder, was Lana. Her hazel eyes worried as she gazed at her friend. Eyes wide, Chloe tried to discreetly kicked the neatly lined up pregnancy tests out of view with her foot. She failed, his green eyes falling to the floor and onto the little pink sticks. He paled, stumbling backward until his knees hit the bed, and collapsed.

"Oh God." He whispered. Lana's eyes pinched in confusion as she slipped past Gabe and into the bathroom doorway. Chloe looked away guiltily from her friend.

"Chloe, it's okay come on," Lana stepped forward, one of the tests cracking beneath the sole of her sneaker. The brunette frowned and looked down. Eyes widening to the point, Chloe felt they might burst from their sockets.

"Oh boy, you're…oh boy...holy crap…oh shit!" Her friend whispered nervously, before it seemed Lana's mind finally caught up with the shock.

"Right, don't panic." Lana smiled weakly grasping her arm and tugging her up.

Allowing Lana to help her over the threshold, she wobbled toward her father. Coming to a stop a few inches away, frantic tears flowing down her face.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobbed, falling to her knees, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Are you sure?" his voice cracked softly. Behind her, she heard Lana puttering around in the bathroom scooping the tests into the trash bin.

Chloe nodded, swiping the tears from her cheeks.

Gabe reached forward, her hands clasping her trembling shoulders.

"Was it that Olsen boy?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"No, never. We never even kissed." She explained softly, shaking her head.

Chloe watched as her father's eyes turned frantic. "You weren't, oh baby tell me you weren't…"

Lana gasped, the wastebasket slipping from her fingers and clanging loudly on the floor.

"No!" she exclaimed reaching forward and gripping his wrists. "No, God…no…nothing like that."

Some of the tension drained from Gabe's shoulders, and Lana let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Who is the father, Chloe?" she gulped, her eyes widening.

"Please, dad…don't," she begged softly. Her red swollen eyes beseeching him to let it go at least for now.

"Chloe, tell me right now." His tone was unusually stern, but she noted with relief not cruel.

"I-I promised," she whispered brokenly, even now after all he had done, she still could not help but protect Clark. To keep her promise.

"Chloe, tell me the truth."

"Clark."

The wastebasket fell once more from Lana's fingers.

"Clark…" Lana whispered brokenly, "…Clark left months ago…"

Then Lana gasped. Without out turning around Chloe knew, that Lana had pieced it all together.

"You knew, you've known all along." Betrayal was audible in her voice. Gabe ignored the other girl.

"How long ago?"

"Three months. I found him a week after he left, in Metropolis."

Lana's sob dug the knife in deeper. Chloe, knew Lana loved Clark and the other girl hadn't given up hope for his gallant return. A return, Chloe was starting to doubt more and more.

God, she had never wanted this. She never wanted Lana to feel like this, or see the disappointment in her father's eyes.

"Why?" Gabe whispered, releasing her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. His hand moved up and down her back, soothing her as he interrogated her. "Why, did you never tell the Kents?"

"He made me promise, said he would run so far away no one would ever find him."

"Oh God," Lana whispered softly, sliding down the wall and hugging her knees to her chest.

"I couldn't risk that. So I promised him, promised not to tell anyone."

"I'm sorry, Tink. But, it's not a promise you can keep anymore." Chloe shook her head wildly. No matter how fucked up her life was, she couldn't betray Clark. She hadn't allowed her petty jealousy to make a deal with the devil, and she wouldn't betray him now. Because not matter what, she still loved him.

"No, I promised him. I won't tell."

She pulled back from her father.

"I can't tell the Kents, not yet. I'll try again."

"No," Lana's voice cracked angrily through the room. Chloe gazed sorrowfully at her friend as she climbed to her feet. Lana met her eyes coldly. "I will, he'll listen to me."

Chloe flinched, and Gabe glared at his houseguest. No matter what, no one ever talked to his little girl like that.

"That's enough, Lana." Gabe reprimanded, Lana looked affronted but kept silent.

"Now, I am calling the Kents…"

"No…no…dad, he's out of control…I'm scared he'll run or hurt himself trying to." Chloe objected getting to her feet, and swiping angrily at her eyes. Reluctantly, she glanced over a Lana who stared back with a skeptical frown. Felling eyes on her Lana gazed toward Chloe, her eyes wide with pain and anger, her hand gripping tightly at the yellow trim of the doorway. She silently plead for forgiveness, but Lana turned away, glaring out the window.

"Chloe," her father's stern voice drew her attention back to him. He stood from the bed, grasping her elbows and looking straight into her eyes. "That is all the more reason to tell them. Clark could hurt himself…there is nothing more you can do."

Chloe nodded weakly. "Okay."

Swiftly Gabe made for the door only to paused and glance back k at his daughter.

"Chloe, never doubt I love you. Never, I'm not happy about this. But don't ever doubt that." Chloe smiled tearfully, and rushed forward throwing her arms around his neck. He held her tightly for a moment, burying his face in her matted hair. Pulling back, he dropped a kiss on her brow, and uncomfortably patted her flat stomach.

"And I love my grandbaby." Chloe laughed softly and despite herself placed her hand low on her stomach.

Gabe shifted nervously, and cleared his throat and turned to leave.

"Mr. Sullivan, the Kents phone was turned off." Lana spoke up finally. "I just gave Mrs. Kent the keys to the Talon apartment."

Gabe sighed sadly. "Chlo, you take it easy. I'll be back." Then he was gone, thundering down the steps and out the door.

…..

The slamming of the front door seemed to act like the first bell of a prizefight championship.

"How could you?" Chloe flinched and Lana's cool, clipped tone.

Dinging round one

"I promised," she answered lamely.

Lana scoffed, shoulder away from the wall. "No, you hid him…from me. At least now I know why, why you wanted me to move on so fucking badly."

Lana smiled bitterly.

She blinked back tears.

"He's changed, Lana. Whether you want to believe it or not. He won't come back…not even for you." Despite herself, she flung the last word back bitterly.

Lana snorted, and remarked snidely. Her beautiful face, the face Clark loved so much, turned pulled into an ugly sneer. "No, but he sure came for you, didn't he?"

Chloe glared, at the low blow.

Rubbing absently at her stomach, almost as if she was trying to shield the tiny life inside from the venomous words being thrown. Lana noticed, and her face crumbled, thick fat tears falling from her eyes.

"You even slept with him. How could you?" she whispered once again, hugging herself tightly.

"How could you?" Chloe tossed back, some of the fire always present in her eyes awakening. She wanted to play dirty, well two could play that way. "You knew Lana. You knew I love Clark, but that didn't stop you now did it? Hell even when you were with Whitney, you pulled Clark around like a puppy on a leash."

Lana stiffened, eyes narrowing into slits. Chloe, however wasn't done yet.

"Or how about that dear John, letter. Regardless of my feelings, you still pursued a relationship with him."

Indignant Lana flipped her sleek black hair off her shoulder. "He actually loves me."

Stung, Chloe reared back at the low blow. Stomping angrily toward her desk, she grabbed a pencil from her Daily Planet mug and scribbled something in the small spiral notebook. Throwing the pencil down and roughly, she ripped the page from the book and thrust it toward Lana.

"Fine, you think you can bring him back…fine give it your best shot. But don't be surprised by what you see, and don't come crying to me when he throws you out on your ass. Best of luck."

Glaring, Lana ripped the scrap paper from between Chloe's fingers.

"Don't worry, I'll bring him home." With that, she stormed out slamming her door behind her. Collapsing into her desk chair, she rested her head on the scrapped wood and cried.

How the hell di life get so fucked up?