slayers_desire | kidnapping Clark to a red-sun Earth

Entry tags:

clark,
victor

kidnapping Clark to a red-sun Earth

Things were bad. April had received a piece of silver kryptonite that had infected Clark with paranoia. Worse, the person she had thought had sent it actually had not. Which made her believe that Professor Fine, aka Brainaic, was behind the infection.

Clark had gone to the Nexus, where lucky Victor was able to intercept him. Through text messages and planning, April sent Victor the coordinates to an Earth with a red sun. One of the back-up plan places that April had established previously... just in case they ever had to deal with Clark in red Krpytonite or brainwashed state again.

She stood outside an apartment in the universe, waiting for Victor to show up. The red sun above her made her uneasy, but it was the only way to deal with Clark without his powers.

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"Yeah, just might," she says, stretching her legs out in front of her, and scratching at the back of her head. Chin tilting back, scanning the sky, more at ease than she's been in a decent chunk of time.

((Oh, so is our next thread for the show-thing, or for the lab-thing? I was thinking that the lab thing would be our next thread.))

"Speaking of feeling better," Clark says. He's still not near a hundred percent, but the tremble in his hands seems to be gone, his temperature is normal again, and he feels like he could probably stand up without wanting to fall over.

"This may be a bit of a weird question, but, um, do you maybe have a knife or a needle you don't care so much about?" he asks Victor.

April is curious to Clark's question. She looks vaguely concerned.

((lab-thing definitely. We can always lead to show-thing afterwards, or just behind the scenes it depending on timing))

"You want to see if you're back to being invulnerable, huh?" She digs through her bag, presents him with a needle, still in its wrapping. Needles she can get more of. Knives are more expensive, even if she only uses them to cut rope and apples and stuff.

((Okay, awesome!))

He nods. "Just to be sure." He still has a lot of nagging doubts left behind by the silver kryptonite, and it's hard for him to tell if it's just a natural reaction to what he just went through or leftover paranoia, and he wants to make sure that he's still invulnerable and that Brainiac didn't somehow damage that part of him when he was infected.

He unwraps the needle and unhesitatingly jabs it into the palm of his hand. Fortunately, the needle breaks instantly, snapping into three pieces as it fractures against his flesh. He wiggles his fingers as if testing them. "Good."

Even with Clark being invulnerable, still seeing him jab the needle into his hand is a little concerning. And April releases a breath of air when it breaks. And there is no blood detected by her senses.

"I am glad the sunlight helped you get back to normal."

Victor gathers up the wrapper, the broken bits of needle, drops them into the biohazard bag so she can dispose of it without it jabbing anyone at any point. Moving delicately. "Very good," she says. "I'm so happy that you're doin' better."

"The sun can't take all the credit," he says, giving them both a small smile. "I don't think I'll be flying to the moon today or anything, but... definitely better." Now that he's coherent, he wonders just how bad he physically got, but doesn't want to ask. He figures they should just accept it and move on, and try to put this behind them as much as they can.

With a chaste kiss to Clark's cheek, April is glad to see him feeling better. "No need to take on the moon today, sweetie."

"Should we get you back to Smallville?"

((bed time))

"If you wanna rest now, that's totally fair," she says, giving him the gentlest possible nudge on the shoulder. The man of steel, and she treats him so tenderly, always, the way she treats everyone. "Both of you. You must be so stressed."

((Night!))

There's a little twinge of reawakened guilt as he starts thinking about home and what he did there, especially to his parents. But they never taught him to run away from his problems, and he's been trying his hardest to face his fears and the consequences of his actions.

"My parents must be really worried about me by now. I think heading home might be best."

"If you need either of us to stay with you, we will." April mentions at Clark's twinge of guilt. She knows talking to his parents will be difficult.

"Yeah, totally," Victor says, taking a deep breath, diaphragm contracting and moving down to make more room inside her chest cavity as she inhales. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks." He's debating, because he doesn't want to trouble them, but they might know more about what he did than he does, and it'll be good to have backup to assure his parents that he really is better, and he's not about to snap and start hurling people through walls again. "That might be good. I mean, if you want." He fidgets a little, nervous, though it's nothing like the frantic nonstop motions he was making when he was infected. "I don't actually remember very much from the last day or... however long it's been."

"From when you started to act weird, it has been at least 24 hours since you were first infected. And I think you attacked your parents earlier in the day, before you left into the Nexus. Of course time stopped there once you did..."

"They might still be... bruised."

She feels her insides twist at the thought of it. Checks her bag to make sure she has chemical icepacks (she does, luckily, because she's not as prepared as she usually is since she had to hollow out a good portion of her supplies to fit the magic stuff in). "We should probably get there."

"It's all a bit hazy," he admits, frowning. "I mean, I remember getting cut, and trying to make it home, but that's when things that to go... weird." He's worked out that he probably wasn't attacked like he thinks he was, at least he hopes so. And he'll check his phone records later, just to make sure that he wasn't called around that time.

He gets to his feet, and though he still feels a little achy, he can stand and walk on his own without wavering. He just feels a little off, still, in a way that'll resolve itself in a little while. He pats down his pockets, but his PINpoint is just plain missing, and he probably forgot to grab it in his paranoid state and left it at home so they couldn't track him. "Um, April, could you...?"

"I did my best to keep a mental track on you, so I could fill in details for both you and your parents." April suggested. She helped Clark to his feet.

Using her PINpoint, April will teleport the three of them to the safe spot at the Kent farmhouse. Her support for her boyfriend still there, with a hand on his arm.

A deep breath of that Kansas air, she slips off her hat, fingers pushing back through her hair, through those tangles and knots. Time for some damage control. She's starting to realize how tired she is, but she wants to be here. "To the house?"

"Yeah."

The front door is absolutely obliterated, with splinters and jagged chunks of wood and glass all over the front lawn, some stretching almost all the way to the barn, suggesting that something or someone ran through it at high speed without any care for if it was closed or not.

Clark swallows, and steps through the empty doorframe. "Mom? Dad? ...Chloe?"

His parents are in the living room, Martha looking at the bruising on her husband's throat, and they both look up sharply when they hear Clark's voice. Chloe comes to stand between Clark and the Kents, kryptonite in hand, looking distressed. It's only been a few minutes since Clark left, and she doesn't expect him to be okay at all.

The signs of the trauma at the Kent farm is worrysome. Not on the same scale at the meteor shower, but still pretty intense as April knows Clark caused the damage.

She quickly steps between Chloe and Clark when she spots the Kryptonite. "It's okay. He is not going to hurt anyone again. Victor and I got the situation under control. Clark had been infected by a new kind of Kryptonite."

"We were able to remove him from the Nexus and help him."

Icepack out, and she ducks her head. "Hello, ma'am. Sir. Chloe. He's normal again," she confirms, even though April said pretty much all of that, wrapping a pack in a clean washcloth and offering it to Clark's dad. Looking around to take stock of the scene. "Is there anything we can do to help you folks out?"

She zips her hat into her bag, hooks her thumb under the backpack strap to take some of the weight off of her back.

Clark stands there looking guilty and trying to be nonthreatening, and it's kind of hard because it's rarely brought home to his family just how powerful he is if he ever got it into his head to turn on them. "I'm me again. I promise."

He's looking physically better, too, which is enough to convince Chloe to toss the rock into its original lead box and engulf him in a hug. "God, are you okay?" she asks, worried as anything.

"Yeah," he says, quiet and so very sorry.

Jonathan accepts the ice pack and lightly touches it to those dark bruises, Clark's big handprint displaying itself in purple and black across his neck. "Thank you," he says, and there's only a little rasp to his voice. "I think we'll be okay, but thanks, Victor." He doesn't admit to his heart problems, almost ever, although this has stressed that weakened muscle even more.

Martha has a cut above her eye that's been cleaned and bandaged, and she moves gingerly, her side banged up from where Clark backhanded her into the kitchen counter. There's a bit of destruction inside the house too that they haven't gotten the chance to clean up yet, but she doesn't pay it any attention as she too comes over to her son, touching his arm as if making sure that he's okay. "What was it?"

April is tuned to the guilt of her boyfriend, and the concern of his loved ones. She is especially concerned for Jonathan and his weak heart. Knowing that with Jor-El's dark foreshadowing that it gets harder and harder to protect the senior Kent from paying the price for Clark's well-being.

"It was a silver-colored Kryptonite. When Clark touched it, he was infected with paranoia. To the depths that everyone and everything was acting against him." She gently explains. She is not going to detail who she believes takes responsibility for the infection without Clark's say. No point worrying the Kents more.

"Victor was able to remove it from his system."

"Anytime, sir," she says, and even though he said that they're fine, she goes about straightening up the house anyway. It's a great comfort when you don't look around and have constant reminders of the last disaster that happened. When you can wake up and find everything in order.

Setting the broken things into a broken things pile on the kitchen counter, where they can decide later whether they want to try to patch it up or toss it out, putting the other things where she thinks they ought to go, fingers nimbly working, and bending and picking up, and placing down. "It was nothing, really, anyone else woulda done the same." Vicky, ever the southern gentleman, doesn't want to accept credit for what she sees as plain old fashioned politeness. Doing the right thing. Helping someone she loves.

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