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.

Chapter Four:

One moment she had been in her car, parked on the side of the road- the next she was sprawled on a pillow soft mattress. Her head pillowed on a perfectly fluffed pillow, and tucked snugly into the large sprawling bed that their child had been conceived in the thick black quilt pulled up to her chin. Chloe barely had time to process her sudden change in venue, before there was a blur of black, a swift whip of wind and Clark was lying next to her on the bed raised up on his elbow gazing down at her.

Her mouth gaped open, working soundlessly as her eyes jumped around the high end loft apartment. "Whoa," she muttered, her surprised and impressed eyes locking on his challenging blue ones. To anyone else, that gleam in his eyes could have been taken as a smug challenge; but to Chloe she could see the vulnerability lurking just beneath his false bravado.

"Scared, yet?" he taunted, leaning toward her the tip of his nose grazing hers, his breath feathering across her face in a whisper of a caress. Chloe didn't pull away or flinch and she could see a quick jolt of surprise flash through his baby blues.

Insulted she arched a light brown eyebrow. "Why would I? The Clark I know is still here, he hasn't changed. You haven't changed Clark."

Kal glowered at her, leaning even closer, his lips pulling back in a menacing snarl. "I am not Clark Fuck*ng Kent. I am not your best friend Sullivan. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

That tone, that deep growling timbre, she had no doubt struck fear into many a gang banger she however didn't bat and eyelash.

"Bullsh*t," She snapped at him, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

Hid irises flashed amber, Chloe was surprised it seemed that he had scored even more super powers in the meteor freak lottery, but stubbornly tipped her chin up-accepting his challenge. It just figured that he would have more than a few powers after all, leave it to Clark to overachieve. Suddenly everything became clear, the quick exits, the lame excuses, and the 'adrenalin' induced saves. Clark Kent was Smallville's unknown hero, and a lost one at that.

"No matter what you think, you are still the same person. Whether you call yourself Kal, Clark, or Snuffleupagus, you are the same person. You can lie to yourself as much as you want. But I know the truth."

With a barely controlled snarl of rage, Cla- Kal was gone in a blur of black, the door slamming behind him. She flinched slightly, when a particularly ugly picture fell from the wall and shattered on the hardwood planks, sending a shower of sparkling diamond shrapnel spraying across the floor.

"I always knew there was something amazing about you, Clark Kent." Her voice was soft, her eyes lingering on the closed door. Despite his blasé attitude, Chloe knew he had been afraid: afraid of the coming rejection, silently bracing himself for the moment when she would look at him differently or recoil in disgust. When she had done none of those things, he had been rattled. Then he became an ass.

That panty dropping smirk had made it return, and Chloe fought back a groan of annoyance. If she didn't have an inkling she would only hurt herself, she would have punched him in that damn perfect nose of his. Ever since she had met him, Clark's smile had been her greatest weakness. No matter how many times she vowed that, those puppy-dog eyes and shy smile would not sway her again…she always failed. That smirk of his however was pure sexual intent, and that was not the Clark Kent she knew, the shy boy who had shown the new city girl around his farm. This was the injured part of him, Kal the person he had always wished down he could be deep down inside.

Throwing the covers off her legs, she carefully tucked the sonogram picture into the back pocket of her jeans. Fisting her mussed and sweaty blond locks between her fingers, she squeezed her eyes shut; this was the last thing she needed. She had enough problems, with soon becoming a teenage mother, her new allergy-probably due in-part to her pregnancy with Clark's child- to meteor rocks, and the Kent's teetering on the precipice of financial ruin, and not to mention in just a matter of nine or so weeks she would be showing and be branded the Slut of Smallville. The last thing Chloe needed was a Clark Kent identity crisis.

She took a deep calming breath, Dr. Nicholson had warned her about keeping her stress level in the green, she had obviously never, met Clark. But she did as recommended- deep breath in through the nose out through the mouth.

Baby needs calm- huh baby- yeah still not quite used to that. Chloe muses, her eyes flicking up to the celling and gaped.

There scorched into the white pain of the ceiling above the bed, was the thick black charred lines, housed in the perfect lines of a diamond was large swirling lines of a figure eight. It was oddly reminiscent of the hieroglyphs in the Kawatche caves, and it struck a chord deep inside her. Even though Chloe was sure she had never seen that particular symbol before, she could not fight that nagging jolt of recognition. At that particular moment she didn't even want to speculate how that had been burned into the sheetrock, and settled for searching for a phone. If she knew Mrs. Kent, she knew the older woman was probably in the throes of a major panic attack.

After her speedy trip on the Kent Express, her cell phone was missing- and she doubted that was a coincidence. Clark or Kal obviously didn't want her contacting the outside world.

"Well to fuck*ng bad for him." Chloe muttered to herself, as she began her search for a phone only to turn up empty. Broken glass crunched under the soles of her shoes as she paced the apartment. She didn't want to leave encase Clark came back a presented her with an opportunity to steal that god-damned ring. But Martha's stress meter was probably at defcon one, and probably on her way to Metropolis.

Biting her lip, she made her decision and wrenched the front door open. Part of her expected to see Clark's hulking form blocking the doorway, preventing her escape. She was both disappointed and relieved when that wasn't the case. Chloe was out the door and running down the corridor to the elevator, nearly upending an elderly lady with a cane carrying her groceries, as she toddled off the elevator. Calling an apology over her shoulder she yanked the cage closed and hurriedly punched the button for the ground floor. Leaning her back against the elevator, she tapped her foot nervously. She'd make a quick call to Martha, give her the address and get her ass back to apartment. Hopefully before Clark returned from his childish snit.

Finally the elevator rumbled to a halt, and Chloe slipped into the lobby of steel and glass. The teen behind the desk, glance up at her approach and offered her a friendly smile.

"Hello, may I be of help?" the woman asked kindly, pushing a lock of bubblegum pink hair behind her studded ear.

"Ugh yes," Chloe paused, her eyes flicking down to the name clip on the uniform white blazer. "Trudy, the phone in room 24C, is missing." Chloe smiled serenely and giggled. "My boyfriend probably knocked it behind the bed last night."

She feigned embarrassment and shrugged her shoulders daintily. "Would it be okay if I use the desk line?"

Trudy's grin resembled that of the cat that swallowed the canary. "24C, huh? Tall, dark, and leather right? Guh… Good for you girl, that man the Disneyland of sex, and I sooooo would not mind taking a ride."

Trudy' eyes glazed over, as she slipped into her own fantasy. Rolling her eyes-even though she couldn't blame Trudy- it didn't mean it didn't annoy her of another woman fantasizing about her, fake, boyfriend. But there was such a thing as tact. Chloe reached across the desk and snatched the phone. Picking up the receiver, she arched a brow at the receptionist and snapped curtly. "How do I get an outside line?"

"Huh?" Trudy glanced up startled and flushed, when Chloe shook the receiver at her. "Oh, dial nine, then the number."

Whether it was to give her privacy, or to escape her embarrassment of being caught in a fantasy about another girl's boyfriend, she slipped into the backroom. With lightning speed she punched in the number of the Kent farm, hoping Martha was there and not bound for the city. Bouncing nervously on her toes, Chloe listened to the ringing drone in her ear.

"Come on, Mrs. Kent." She muttered, twirling the cord around her fingers.

"Kent Farm,"

Pete.

Chloe stifled an irritated groan. Normally she loved talking with Pete, but right now she really didn't have time for him.

"Pete, is Mrs. Kent there?" Chloe asked questioned, more curtly than she had meant too.

"Chlo? No, Mrs. K's not here, she's on her way to Metropolis. Where are you?" Pete's voice was anxious.

"Where did Clark take you? Is the bab—that fine booty of yours okay"

He finished lamely.

Her blood ran cold.

Oh God.

Pete knew.

"It does- wait how do you know Clark took me or the baby for that matter?" she asked, her eyes narrowing her journalistic spidey sense was tingling.

"Ugh…well…it doesn't matter. Just tell me where you are." He stammered nervously.

"Uhuh, want to try that again?"

"Ugh, no not really. But don't worry Chlo. Mr. and Mrs. K are taking care of this. Ugh Mr. K thinks he found a way to help Clark."

Chloe perked up, and surreptitiously glanced around the empty lobby and whispered into the receiver. "You mean he figured out a way to get the ring away from him?"

"How—how did—you," he broke off with a groan, and even through the phone line she knew Pete was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Seriously Pete, who do you think you're talking too? So want to tell just how much of the Kent family secret you know?" her whisper was barely audible through the phone, but by the gulp she heard from Pete, he had heard her loud and clear.

"Ugh, just how much do you know?"

"Enough to know he can get from Smallville to Metropolis faster than Isaac Mizrahi can make an intern cry, and that he can rip a seatbelt into bit sized pieces with a flick of his fingers, oh and he has some weird allergy to meteor rocks that he passed onto the baby and me. How am I doing so far?"

Pete moans pathetically through the phone.

"Look Chlo, we have bigger fish to fry right now. Mr. Kent is on his way too, just hang tight. He's still Clark he won't hurt you."

"I know that, you ass!" she snapped, her grip tightening on the phone, the plastic receiver crackling under the pressure. Surprised she pulled the phone away from her ear and gapped down at her fist.

"Wow," she whispered to herself, gazing in awe as the phone seemed to groan under the slightest tightening of her fist. The sound of heavy footfalls on the marble floor startled her hand tightened and the phone shattered. Shards of plastic sailing across the room and imbedding in the walls.

"Christ," she muttered as she gazed down at her hand in amazement. Stunned she dropped what was left of the broken receiver and gazed up into proudly gleaming eyes of blue. Chloe gasped when she heard movement behind the door of the backroom, and glanced down at the bits of the broken phone. Chloe could successfully explain away a lot of oddities but a spontaneously combusting phone, was a stretch even for her.

She needn't have worried, because with a blink she was gone was flying. The glimmering windows and the streaks of white and orange flew past her eyes. With a jolt reality came running up to greet her with a slap to the face.

"Oh crap," she muttered wrenching away from Clark's grip-thankfully he let go- and sprinted for the bathroom. Chloe barely had time to drop to her knees and raise the toilet seat before she blew. Her head still buried in the porcelain bowl, she didn't hear Clark's approach until her crouched behind her. One large palm resting on the rim of the bowl beside her head, and the other smoothing her hair and down her back.

Her stomach empty, she whipped her mouth with the toilet paper Clark held out to her, and dropped the lid down, and flushed the toilet. Exhausted she allowed her body to sway into his solid chest, and allow him to hold her up.

"Feel better?" he asked softly, his hand smoothing up and down her arm.

Chloe grunted. "Yeah, peachy. Just do me a favor, no more super-speed until the morning sickness is over."

"Right." He nodded, and she allowed him to guide her body back so it was resting against his chest, as his back rested against the side of the tub. Her eyelids lowered slightly, her lashes tickling the apple of her cheeks.

"I am not alone anymore." His voice was a low-whispering- growl, but unlike before it was not a sensual purr, but gruff with emotion. Chloe knew, he hadn't intended for her to hear him, but she had and it broke her heart. Her eyes filled at his heartbreaking words.

Raising her head enough to look into his sad eyes, her hand coming to rest over his hear-clenching the fabric of his shirt- and declared vehemently. "You were never alone."

Clark showed no signs of hearing her. Those luminous eyes locked on her still flat stomach, gazing at the bunching red fabric of her tank top. His hand clenched into a fist at her hip, but Chloe could see the slight tremble in his fingers.

Then she saw it, the thick brassy gold band housing the glowing red meteor rock, the only tether that kept Kal in power.

Chloe licked her lips; now was her chance. If she played her cards right, she could fix this now.

Sliding her hand away from his chest, he used to hold himself up; she ghosted her fingertips over his clenching fist. First things first, she needed him to release his death grip. While she knew- now- that Clark was faster than a speeding bullet, she also had an inkling that he was stronger than the entire Marine Corp combined, if her little display with the phone was anything to go by. And while she had been strong enough to shatter the phone, she was unsure how to kick start that power, and the last thing she needed was him catching on and blurring to Siberia. She would never be able to pry his finger apart, and get the ring away from him before he caught on. As dense as he could be, Clark had always been far from stupid. Especially when it came to her, he owned his own Chloe manual, and it was hell to try fooling him. What she needed was to distract him. She was unsure how long they laid there in silence, his eyes never wavering from her abdomen; she was struck by an idea.

"Give me your hand." She tugged lightly at his clenched fist. By some miracle, Clark uncurled his fingers and allowed her to guide his hand. Twisting slightly, so her back was anchored against his chest, she inched the hem of her tank top up and pressed his palm to the warm flesh of her belly, her hand coming to rest on top of his.

Warmth rippled through her skin, making the muscles in her abdomen twitch beneath his palm. She gasped in surprise, glancing down at her stomach, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"I feel it." Clark whispered gruffly, finally tearing his eyes away from their hands, and gazing at her with wet sparkling eyes. "I can feel it Chloe, I can feel our baby."

A single tear tumbled from his eye, and trickled down his cheek. Chloe knew it was impossible for anyone to feel the baby yet, it was barely the size of a peanut yet, but looking at his joyful eyes she knew he was telling the truth. Clark could feel their baby, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous and a lot irritated.

"It's strong; it's just like me…but more. There's something else there…something that's just you. I don't know what it is, but it feels so warm and soothing. So very you." Hi voice was awed, and his thumb rubbed soothing circles on top of the flesh and muscle that protected their child.

"Great, you get to feel the baby and all I get to feel is smell induced morning sickness, a violent aversion to peas, and the great pleasure of blowing up like a blimp. I hate you a little, you realize that right?" She asked the last part with a surly pout.

Clark grunted, not truly hearing her. He was enamored with the gentle rippling force field that vibrated against his hand. Curiously he poked slightly at the soft flesh of Chloe's stomach; under the probing invasion the skin refused to flex. He grinned blindingly, his child was impenetrable, and b association so was Chloe.

Chloe sighed; as she watched his fingers curl and lovingly stroked her belly. As much as she wanted to get that ring from him, she couldn't seem to bring herself to intrude on this moment. While Kal might only be tickled to have another possession, Chloe knew Clark was just beneath the surface savoring the moment. Because once she released Clark, from his prison there would be tears of broken dreams, and the all-consuming fear of becoming a sixteen year old parent. Then the guilt would come, and the self-flagellation would begin and she decided he need a few more moments of peace.

Five minutes.

She could give him five more minutes.