Season 5, after "Void"
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC comics, not to me
“I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about,” I answered The Voice. “And I’m really not into painful deaths. If you’re going to kill me, I’d rather have it quick and painless, if you don’t mind.”
The disembodied voice sounded vaguely amused despite the distortion. “But death itself holds no fear for you, Miss Sullivan?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve got a calculus exam tomorrow. Trust me, this would be a great day to go.”
“Miss Sullivan,” The Voice said. “Amusing though I must admit I find you, let’s dispense with the jokes now. I want every bit of information you possess on Clark Kent, the young man who lived in Metropolis a few years ago and called himself Kal.”
I frowned. Kal. That was Clark’s Kryptonian name, or part of his Kryptonian name, but he’d never gone by it as far as I knew. Except maybe…
A flicker of recognition tugged at my memory.
Metropolis, almost three summers ago now. Clark had run away from home, come to Metropolis, and acted like a complete maniac. I’d found him here, in an expensive apartment he couldn't possibly afford, and he’d been a total jerk to me, throwing around vulgarities and sexual innuendos in a way that was totally unlike Clark. The Kents had brought him up to be a decent guy, and no matter how angry he was with the world, I couldn’t imagine him acting that way. At the time, I’d been worried he had developed a split personality or something, because he’d behaved so strangely.
Now, thanks to Martha Kent’s offhand mention of red K and its effect on Clark a few months back, I realized he’d been under the influence of a red meteor rock-studded class ring. And I was pretty sure he'd called himself Kal.
“I’ve never heard him called Kal,” I lied. “Just Clark. I think his middle name is Joseph.”
“You don’t know anything about his strength?”
I got colder. What on earth had Clark been doing that summer, walking around displaying his superstrength to everyone in Metropolis? The dumbass. Of course, he’d been under the influence of red K, but still. Clark’s my best friend, and I love him to death, but sometimes I think his head is only good for growing hair.
“He lives on a farm,” I said coolly. “Of course he’s pretty ripped.”
“Hmmm. That's all?"
"Well, Miss Sullivan, let’s see if pain has any effect on your recollections of our friend Kal.”
“I thought we agreed that we could skip the pain.”
“If you’d rather avoid pain, then by all means, tell us what you know.” The door clicked, and one of the big oafs from the pickup truck came into the cell. It happened to be the guy I’d whacked with my bookbag. He grinned at me toothily, in a way that said plainly, Revenge is sweet.
He held up a device I didn’t recognize. “Let’s see if this helps your memory problem any, little girl,” he said in a rough voice. His voice sounded different from the mechanical one, even discounting the distortion, and I guessed he wasn’t the boss.
I didn’t think I wanted to find out what that little device was, so I aimed a kick at him. He avoided it and grabbed me with dismaying ease. It’s not easy for someone my size to take a two hundred and fifty pound gorilla, unfortunately. He handcuffed me to the bars, then held the device to my skin and activated it.
I guess it was sort of a low-level stun device. It gave me an electric shock, enough to hurt quite a lot, but not enough to knock me out. Agony whipped through me, and I was hard-pressed not to yell in pain.
I gritted my teeth, afraid to make any sort of noise at all. I’m not sure how close Clark has to be to hear me scream—as far as I knew, he was in Smallville, and I was pretty sure he couldn’t hear me from so far away, even if he happened to be listening for me. But Clark’s abilities are still developing all the time, and I didn’t want to find out I was wrong. Ordinarily I’m grateful for his superhearing and his other unearthly powers, and I take advantage of his abilities when I get stuck in dangerous situations, but I was pretty sure these guys knew something about Clark already.
How much they knew, I wasn’t sure. But what if they knew about the effect green K had on him? Who knew what else Clark had let slip that summer? If Clark came charging to the rescue, I was afraid they'd incapacitate him somehow. And there's only one way I know of to do that. Using green kryptonite.
And green kryptonite doesn’t just incapacitate Clark—it hurts him a whole lot. It can even kill him.
The guy zapped me again, and I clenched my jaw, writhing against the pain.
Better me than Clark, I thought grimly, and kept my silence.
Read Chapter 4 here.