Clark knew. When Chloe showed up at his door, ignoring the pounding rain that had soaked her to the skin, looking as lost as he'd ever seen her. A pang of guilt struck him when he remembered the last time he'd seen that expression on her face. He and Lana had put it there well over a decade before...

It was that thought that connected the dots for him. Without words he reached out, hugging her close, ignoring the fact he'd just ruined his shirt. Chloe pressed her face against his shoulder, sobbing quietly and Clark was intensely glad Michael Vaughn wasn't within arm's reach...

Because if he was...

Chloe didn't react when he closed the door and led her inside. She followed him mutely, letting him guide her into the bedroom, accepting the change of clothing he offered her before pushing her into the bathroom.

When she emerged, fresh from a hot shower, he was waiting with a cup of hot cocoa and a box of tissues.

Not once did Clark ask, did he prompt her to say anything, he offered a shoulder and as many hugs as she needed...he knew it wouldn't make it better, he wasn't sure anything he could do would do that, but he had to try.

He wasn't sure when she fell asleep but he was well aware of the fact she'd cried herself into it.

He left her lying on the couch, sleeping heavily, tucked beneath one of his warmest blankets. Before pushing off the balcony and racing into the night sky, he looked back once at the slight figure and frowned darkly.

Somebody was going to catch serious hell for this...

Finis

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