The Snow Queen

The Snow Queen

Flora Winters

I do not own Smallville or the Snow Queen, but my friends do call me the Snow Queen.

Summary: Winter has taken a life in Smallville and everyone thinks Clark has become colder than ice. MM, Language.

Prologue

The Kent farm looked like a winter wonderland but the usual warmth was no where to be found. Icicles were hanging long and pointy from the rafters and the cows were left out in the falling snow. The barn door was swinging back and forth in the frigid air as an owl flew in to find shelter from the Snow Queen.

Clark Kent was numb. All of his emotions were frozen as he looked at his father’s gray casket covered in white roses. The snow was falling all white and blinding into his locks of darkness. Dead emerald green eyes did not even blink once for fear that they might miss the joke and that his dad really was okay. He was going to jump out from behind a tombstone at any minute and shout, “Just kiddin’ ya’ll.”

This was all just a bad dream. It was too bad he was never going to be able to wake up from it.

Chloe Sullivan looked at her best friend and thought that he looked as cold and lifeless as the snow he was standing in. He had become so pale. He looked as if he had been carved from a flawless piece of white marble. She had thought Lex Luthor the ice prince but this was frightening. Where was her golden superman? It was as if all life and color had been snuffed away from him.

Her cousin Lois Lane reached over and took her by a shaky hand and smiled at her as warmly as she could. She lifted a finger and wiped some of Chloe’s tears away and smiled at Lana Lang that was standing on the other side of Chloe holding her other hand.

“Let’s go get warm,” she said leading the two of them away but not before Chloe looked back at her best friend.

Lana put her hand on her shoulder, “He’ll need your shoulder and strength later Chloe.”

Chloe slowly turned away from Clark and allowed the two of them to lead her through the frozen cemetery to the car. Mr. Kent really was gone and she was terrified that the Clark she knew had followed after him.

The colder winter wind whipped through Clark’s dark hair and he did not even notice. All feeling had left him the moment his father had drawn his last breath. He had to not feel, otherwise he would go crazy and smash lots of things.

He slowly looked up from the grave to see his mom looking at him with sparkling tears streaming from the corners of her beautiful eyes. Her long hair was stunning and billowed around her beautiful pale face like fire in the harsh wind. He had to stay strong for her. He would not melt like the snow that was falling into her fiery hair.

That was when he saw Lex standing off in the shadow of an angel with a single white rose in his hands. Emerald orbs met gray and he saw that Lex looked a little frightened. He should be.

Lex had not seen Clark since the accident and he was terrified at how icy Clark looked. He bet that if Clark allowed him to ever touch him again he would either cut himself or come away with frostbite. He should never of gotten drunk and went joy riding because of that stupid election that meant nothing now. He had lost to Mr. Kent and it had killed him to think that he had lost to some farmer. Had he actually been willing to have Mr. Kent harmed just to win the election? He was such an idiot. His mother had shown him his happy life with Clark. He could have had that life if he had only just done what she had told him to do.

“Make the right choice.”

He didn’t.

Clark looked away from the bald man that had once been his rock and shelter and knelt down as his father’s casket was being lowered into the cold, lonely earth. He picked up a handful of cold dark dirt and slowly scattered it on top of the gray coffin. He could hear his mom sob as she walked away through the snow. He was not going to cry.

Everyone would be showing up at the house with food and sad faces. They would all talk about the good times and all the happy memories that the house collected over the years. He wanted to run away from all of it but he had to be there for his mom. She needed him. He had to be the man now. He had to be the one to take care of her. He was not going to let his dad down.

He heard footsteps coming towards him and he saw that it was two elderly looking men who were going to fill in his dad’s grave. He started to shake, not from the cold, but from fear. This really was real. This really was happening. His dad really was gone. He was never ever going to come back. He was never ever going to hear his dad yell at him from the bottom of the stairs, “The cows aren’t going to feed themselves, Son.”

“Son,” an elderly voice asked with some hesitation, “We can come back, if you like?”

“Thank you,” Clark whispered and it was softer than snow.

“Clark,” Lex said softly as he nodded at the two elderly men walking by him as he looked at Clark from the other side of the deep hole. There was now a deep hole between the two of them and he was too afraid to walk around it.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t do this right now,” Clark said looking up at him and Lex shivered at the pain and enmity he saw in those once fiery eyes that were now dead as snow, “Please just leave me alone.”

Lex slowly nodded his head and dropped the rose into the hole. He walked off through the snow that was coming down hard now not allowing Clark to see the tears fall from his eyes. He really had made a terrible mistake and it had cost him Mr. Kent’s life and worst of all, Clark’s love. He feared that he would never get it back after this disaster of his own making. He had everything with Clark and he had thrown it all away for a chance at power. Would that grave always be between them? Why was he such an idiot?

Clark lowered his head as he listened to Lex’s retreating footsteps. He wanted to jump across the grave and speed after him to knock him senseless. It was all his fault!

His cold eyes snapped open when he felt a hand softly grip his shoulder. He turned his neck to the side and looked up to see in total surprise, “Bart?”

“Hi, Clark,” he said softly and not liking the way his only friend in the world was looking.

Bart had saved his dad’s life once and he had also stolen his wallet in the process. The two of them had been friends ever since. Clark had gotten postcards from Bart for almost a year now. The young man had been all over the world.

Bart knelt down beside him and handed him the most beautiful white rose he had ever seen. Its soft, fragrant petals were as white as the falling snow and it smelled of summer. It still had dew on it as if it had just been picked…or stolen.

“I didn’t know,” Bart whispered and he was really cold, even in his thick winter clothes, “I was coming for a visit and found the farm cold and empty.”

“How did you know I was here,” Clark asked and even his voice sounds dead.

“Smallville,” Bart smiled softly and Clark couldn’t even though he did try. It seemed as if he had forgotten how for the moment.

“I’m sorry Clark,” he said through chattering teeth, “I’m here if you need me.”

Clark looked away from the grave to see how cold Bart really was. His nose and cheeks were blood red and his breath looked as though it was turning to ice in his lungs. Okay, maybe that last little bit was an exaggeration.

“Why don’t you head to the farm and get warm before you get sick,” Clark offered.

“What about you,” Bart asked.

“I can’t,” Clark said and he felt the dam breaking, “I can’t leave him here all alone.”

“Clark,” Bart whispered while reaching out for him.

“No,” Clark said making his eyes glow to burn away the moisture, “Its dark and cold down there.”

“He’s not down there Clark,” Bart said softly.

“Stop,” Clark warned, “Don’t tell me that.”

Bart positioned himself so he could reach out and put his hand over Clark’s heart, “He’s in here, where he is warm and surrounded with love.”

“He looks so frozen,” Bart thought to himself as he looked into those cold emerald eyes, “I’ll help get my golden friend back.”

Clark looked back at the grave and slowly got to his feet which made Bart yelp and tumble over into the cold snow. Clark’s eyes widened and he quickly helped his friend up. Bart was now wet from his head down to his new pair of frozen sneakers. Was his feet ever going to feel sweet warmth ever again? He might have to have Clark use his heat vision in order to thaw them out.

Clark put his arm around Bart’s shoulder and the two of them walked around the grave.

“Bye,” Clark whispered.

“He’s not gone Clark,” Bart said looking up at him, “His spirit will always be with you.”

“Then why do I feel so alone,” Clark asked with cold, lifeless orbs that at one time made emeralds green with envy.

Bart didn’t know how to answer him. All he could do was be there.

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Chloe was sitting on the sofa with Lois who was slowly eating some chips and dip. Mrs. Kent was obviously trying to keep herself as busy as possible so she wouldn’t have the time to cry and refused all help in the kitchen. Even though she was doing her best to stay busy, Chloe could see the tears in those loving eyes. They might not fall now, but they would later.

The farmhouse was packed with friends of the family and a warm fire was roaring in the fireplace. She smiled at Lana who walked in from the kitchen to take a seat between the two of them. Her Aunt Nell was about to drive her nuts. She kept going on about her life in Metropolis and how great her husband ‘what’s his face’ was.

“Have you seen Clark,” Chloe asked taking her drink and took a sip.

Lana shook her head, “Not since the graveyard.”

Chloe bit her bottom lip, “He was so…”

“Frozen,” Lana finished, “Like ice.”

Lois smiled softly, “He’ll show up when he gets hungry.”

Lois loved Mr. Kent like a father. The Kent’s had taken her in as a member of the family and she owed them a lot. She was going to be here for Clark and Martha now more than ever. A tear slid down her cheek and she decided that it was time for some more food.

Lana turned to look at Chloe who was watching Lois walk through the crowd of people towards the kitchen, “I’ve never seen Clark like this before.”

“His dad’s never died before either Lana,” she said and then quickly apologized, “I’m sorry.”

“Its okay,” Lana said while rubbing her nose with a tissue, “I wasn’t thinking.”

Chloe nodded, “All we can do is be there when he needs us.”

“I agree,” Lana said and leaned over to rest her head on Chloe’s shoulder, “His eyes were so…dead.”

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Clark had picked a frozen Bart up into his arms and carried him easily back to the farm in a flash. The two of them were now in the loft and Clark used his heat vision on low in order to heat the place up. He did not feel like being around lots of people right now.

Bart had taken off his wet clothes and was now only in his boxers. Clark gave him the quilt off the sofa so he could wrap up in it. He noticed that Bart had grown a few more inches and had added muscle to his lithe frame. It had to be all that running he did.

“Clark,” Bart asked looking at him, “May I ask how it happened?”

Clark shook his head, “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

Bart nodded and began to massage his frozen feet and cooed, “I thought I was going to lose you two.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “Baby.”

“Cow Eyes,” Bart retaliated and then froze, “I’m sorry.”

“I remember when you first called me that,” Clark said in thought.

“I was a little bitch then,” Bart smiled looking up at him from his feet.

“I remember,” Clark said and ignored the look of outrage Bart was giving him, “So you’re not a “little bitch” anymore?”

“No,” Bart said and pulled the quilt around him tighter.

“What changed,” Clark asked.

Bart smiled, “When you asked me to stay.”

Clark looked at him deeply, “Really?”

“I said that their was nothing for me here in Smallville,” Bart said and then looked away, “And you said, “You have me.”

Clark remembered and he had meant it, “I almost caught you too.”

Bart looked back up at him and Clark saw that he was blushing, “I almost let you but pride kept me from allowing it.”

“Why,” Clark asked flipping through an old notebook, “You could have stayed if you wanted.”

“You’re my only friend Clark,” he said wondering what was written in that ancient looking thing, “My only real friend and I did not want to take advantage after what I did and put you through with that stupid piece of paper.”

“You closed the box,” Clark said putting the notebook down, “And in doing so, you saved my life.”

He was not even going to mention the fact that Bart had returned the manuscript page to Lex. In a way he wished that Bart had kept the damn thing. It would of saved him a lot of trouble if he had.

“I opened it on you,” Bart said and then frowned, “But that’s in the past and I’m here for you like you were for me…if you need me.”

Clark got to his feet, “I’m going to go see if I can find you some really old clothes of mine that might fit you so you can come in.”

Bart snorted, “Good luck Mr. Giant.”

Clark was gone in a whoosh and it made Bart smile. He was so happy to have someone who was like him in his life.

He laid down on the sofa and snuggled deeper into the quilt when he shivered. He was here now and he was really sleepy. He was so tired he did not even hear the owl hoot from somewhere in the rafters hiding from Winter’s rage that was going on outside.

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Clark ran through the snow and into the house in a blur around all the people who looked completely frozen in his wake. Some were smiling while others were in tears. Some of these people he didn’t even know. His Grandfather did not even show up for the funeral or anything. That was the last time he was ever going to send a Birthday or a Christmas card to that old man who sent nothing to him in return. All he wanted was a card, a letter, or a damn phone call. He always did ask too much of people.

He saw Chloe frozen on the couch with Lana resting her head against her shoulder looking to be asleep and it made him frown. Lex and him had use to do that, never again. He was just not meant to be happy. His biological father was right.

“Humans destroy those who love them most.”

Thank you for those words of wisdom, Jor-El, Daddy Dearest.

His mother was in the back room holding one of his dad’s shirts in her hands and looked to be smelling it. He stopped and time started, for him.

“Jonathan,” she whispered and Clark watched her sob and began crying into the shirt.

“Mom,” he asked.

She spun around with tears falling from her eyes, “Sweetheart?”

“Bart is out in the loft,” he said not wanting her to cry, “I’m taking him out some dry clothes.”

“Bart,” she asked and suddenly remembered, “Dry clothes?”

“He stayed with me and got wet in the snow,” he said holding up some of his “really” old clothes, “I think he might be staying for a while.”

“You should bring him inside so he doesn’t catch a cold,” she said while acting like she was folding the shirt.

“I don’t want to be around all these people,” he said with lifeless eyes and her heart ached for him, “They’re annoying me.”

“Sweetheart,” she said while going to him, “We’re just going to have to try and pull through this together.”

“I know,” he said and began to feel the pang in his heart again and kissed her cheek, “I need to get these to Bart.”

“Tell him hi for me,” she said, “And that he has a place to sleep if he wants it.”

“Will do,” Clark said and was gone in a whoosh.

She dropped her head to look at the shirt she was holding tightly in her arms. It was in that moment that she realized that she would never ever be doing Jonathan’s laundry again. She would never have to wash it, dry it, or even fold it. She would never get to smack him with one of his sweaty shirts for being too damn lazy to do it himself because he had to “work” on a farm all day.

“But sweetheart,” he would whine, “I’ve been working on the tractor all day and finally just got it running again, no thanks to Clark who chucked it half way across town last month.”

“Oh, its always something with you,” she would say and then smack him with his shirt.

The tears fell from her eyes and her heart shattered all over again. She fell to her knees and buried her face in his shirt as she sobbed. Even with the house packed with people, it felt empty.

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Clark made his way back up the steps to his loft to see that Bart was sound asleep on his sofa. He was all snuggled up in the quilt he had given him and his face looked so peaceful in his sleep, until he shivered.

Clark quietly walked over and gently put the back of his hand to Bart’s smooth forehead to find that he felt a little warm. That might not be good.

“Bart,” Clark said and then gently shook him, “I need you to wake up. You might have a fever.”

“Huh,” Bart asked in a moan and opened his tired eyes, “I didn’t steal a speaker.”

“Put these clothes on,” Clark said, “We’re going in so I can give you some medicine and put you to bed.”

“I’m not sick,” he said sitting up, “See?”

Clark watched him stand up and then watched him tip over. Bart landed against Clark’s chest and snorted, “Dizzy.”

“Uh huh,” Clark said and helped him dress in eye blinks. The clothes were a little baggy on him but the belt helped. Wasn’t baggy the style now anyways? He didn’t really know.

“Come on,” he said helping him down the stairs and out into the cold once more.

“I hate the cold,” Bart whined, “Stupid winter.”

“Hold onto me so you don’t fall,” Clark said as they neared the door.

“Okay,” Bart shivered, “Are we there yet?”

Neither of them saw molten mercury orbs filled with the very essence of winter smiling at them from within a blinding snow devil. This being had finally decided that it was time to wake up and she was going to have some fun. Winter was here and she was going to do everything within her power to make sure that it stays…everywhere.

TBC…

Please review and let me know what you think. This idea actually came to me while I was at work last night.