The Last Guardian (Ch. 10)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

The Last Guardian

Chapter 10

It was nearly midnight by the time Harry walked back to the Talon. Smallville looked deserted at this hour. A thick fog had rolled in, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of him. The shop windows were all dark except for the faint neon glow of a sign down the block. Harry tried not to think about the weirdness with Chloe, the water cooler, or the way Jason’s eyes burned a hole through his skull at practice. His brain kept circling back to Lana, who was waiting for him in the apartment above the Talon. One of her friends had asked her if she could borrow some of her notes. Lana, of course, agreed and said she’d bring them right over. However, Harry said he’d take them instead. It was just a couple of blocks down the street, and he could be back in a flash if something happened. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, glanced at the display, and answered without breaking stride. “Hey, Lois,” he said. 

“I called you earlier, and you didn’t answer. Where are you?” she asked. There was noise in the background. It sounded like maybe a TV or a radio.

“Heading home,” he said. “Why, do you miss me already?” Harry teased. Lois snorted.

“If that’ll help fuel your macho fantasies, then sure, but that’s not why I called.” Lois’s voice sounded tight, even for her. “I’ve been digging. You remember that whole ‘cheerleaders gone wild’ thing at practice?”

Harry snorted. “It’s kind of hard to forget. Though I have to admit, Chloe did look cute in that cheerleader outfit.” He could practically hear Lois rolling her eyes.

“Well, get this,” she said. “The head cheerleader, Mandy, got suspended from AP Chemistry at the end of last year for messing around with the lab equipment. The Principal’s office covered it up, but I got the records.” She paused for effect. “She and her three little clones did a ‘science project’ that was basically a cover for screwing with a psychoactive chemical called phenylethylamine.”

Harry stopped walking. The Talon’s blue and pink neon lights flickered further down the street. “You think they cooked up that green stuff themselves?” he asked.

“Bingo. They call it the ‘love molecule’. It didn’t work very well, but apparently, they found a way to supercharge it,” Lois said. “Clark says the football team’s been acting like love-sick zombies.”

Harry blew out a breath, watching it fog in the cold air. “So what’s the plan?”

“I’m going to confront the ringleader,” Lois said. “I’ll ambush her at school tomorrow. If you never see me again, assume I’ve been cheerleadered to death.”

Harry laughed, but there was a tightness in his chest. “Be careful, Lois. They’re not playing around.”

“I know. You, too.” She hung up.

Harry pocketed the phone and started toward the Talon. He had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He cut down the alley beside the Talon, skipping the lit front door for the shadowed side entrance. He reached for the handle, but something pricked at the edge of his senses. He spun, but too late.

The first shot hit him dead-center in the back. It felt like being punched by a sledgehammer, the force slamming him forward into the brick wall. The second and third shots came in quick succession. One hit him in the ribs, and the other near the kidney. Harry dropped to his knees, gasping. He tried to turn and see who was shooting at him, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate.

A shadow peeled itself off the far end of the alley, wearing black clothes and a black ski mask. The gun looked old, like the ones that cowboys used in those old western movies Harry watched as a kid. The shooter walked up slowly and deliberately and stood over Harry’s twitching body.

The shooter leaned down, picked something up off the ground, and walked right past Harry toward the Talon’s side door. Harry tried to yell, but his lungs seized up. Blood bubbled in his mouth. He reached for his magic, but it felt far away. His vision went blurry at the edges. He heard the door being unlocked and then opened. The door then closed with a click. The shooter was inside. Lana was inside.

Harry’s vision went green, and a radiant light filled the alley and the inside of his skull. He clawed at the ground, digging his fingers into the concrete. He forced himself upright, and the pain spread through his back and stomach. He tasted blood as it ran down his chin.

He pushed his powers outward, willing his body to repair itself. The green light pulsed around him, sealing the worst of the wounds and numbing the agony to something he could manage. It was sloppy work, but it would do for now.

He staggered to the door, fumbled with the handle, and went inside. The Talon was dark, and all the chairs were resting upside down on the table tops. Upstairs, he heard the sound of something heavy slamming against the floor, followed by a crash and the sound of glass breaking. Then Lana let out a high-pitched, panicked scream that sent his pulse racing.

He moved up the stairs, half running, half falling. He reached the top just in time to see Lana’s apartment door splinter off its hinges. The shooter was inside, and his gun was still drawn. Lana was backed into the far corner, clutching a heavy glass lamp. Her hands were shaking, but she looked ready to fight. The shooter advanced on her.

Harry blasted the gun out of the man’s hand with a green bolt that left a burn on the drywall. The shooter spun, caught off guard. Harry lunged, moving faster than the pain would allow, and grabbed the man by the throat. They crashed into the wall. The man tried to knee Harry in the stomach, but the pain barely registered. Harry squeezed and lifted until the man’s feet left the floor. Lana screamed again, “Harry, look out!”

The shooter yanked a knife from his belt and buried it in Harry’s thigh. Harry barely felt it. He headbutted the man with a sickening crunch and felt the mask go wet with blood. With his free hand, Harry grabbed the shooter’s collar and hurled him straight through the living room window. The glass exploded outward, showering the street below. The shooter hit the ground two stories down, rolled, and got up limping. He looked up, mask askew, but the heavy fog hid his identity. The man turned and ran as fast as he could with a heavy limp.

Harry watched as the man darted into the alley. He lifted his hand, summoned his power, and let loose a bolt of green energy. It tore a foot-deep gouge in the blacktop, but missed the runner by a foot. The man vanished into the darkness.

Harry sagged against the window frame. The pain hit all at once, like a million needles stabbing every nerve. He moved back into the living room, catching himself on the coffee table.

Lana didn’t stop shaking. The adrenaline made her teeth chatter and her legs wobble. She ripped open the kitchen cabinet for a first aid kit and dumped it onto the table, fumbling through the gauze, tape, and antiseptic. “Sit down,” she said. Her voice cracked. “Please, Harry, just … sit.”

He obeyed, slumping onto the edge of the couch, blood soaking through the back of his shirt and pooling on the fabric. She grabbed the scissors from the kit, cut up the side seam, and peeled the ruined t-shirt away from his skin. Her hands came away slick and red.

“Oh my god,” she said. She saw three holes punched clean through his back, ringed with shredded skin and muscle. She could see bone and a lot of other things she never wanted to see again. “Harry, you need a doctor,” she said. “We need to call 911.”

He shook his head. “No hospitals.” His voice was hoarse, but the edge was still there. “They’ll ask too many questions. I can fix it.”

She was on the verge of tears, but she bit it down and pulled open the bottle of alcohol. “This is going to hurt.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of her statement. He had three bullets in his back, and she was worried about the sting of rubbing alcohol. 

She doused the wounds, then packed them with gauze. Harry grabbed the knife handle and ripped the knife from his thigh with a pained hiss. Lana yelped loudly and jumped. She looked at him like he was crazy. Harry closed his eyes and focused. The air shimmered around him. A green glow built under his skin, starting small, then burning brighter until it painted his veins with emerald light.

Lana pulled her hand away and watched in numb horror as the bullet wounds began sealing themselves shut. The shredded muscle knitted together, and the skin closed over as if time was running in reverse. Right before his skin sealed shut, three slugs popped out and landed in her palm. They were still warm.

He groaned, then slumped forward, breathing hard. The blood on his back and arms dissolved, replaced with clean, unmarked skin. His breathing slowed, but he didn’t look good.

Lana stared at the bullets in her hand, then at Harry’s back, then at the broken window. “That’s … how did you … ” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She pressed a towel to his side anyway, needing to do something.

He laughed, then coughed. “It’s not as fun as it looks.”

“You scared me,” she whispered. “You almost died.”

He looked at her with a crooked grin. “Nah. You’d miss me too much if I did.”

She dropped the towel and started laughing, but it turned into a sob halfway through. She sat down hard next to him, still clutching the bullets. He wrapped an arm around her waist to console her. Harry then looked around, noticed the broken glass, and snapped his fingers. The window reassembled itself, shards flying back into place with a faint, musical sound. The splintered door stood itself up and rejoined the frame. When he was done, there was no trace of the violence left. Even the blood on the couch and floor disappeared. 

Lana gawked at the window, then back at him. “You’re unreal.”

He squeezed her and then unwound his arm. “It’s all part of my charm.”

She wiped her nose, then sat in silence. After a while, she asked, “Who was that? Why would someone want to kill you?”

“I’m not sure,” he told her, but Harry had a sneaking suspicion of who it might have been. He didn’t remind her that the person actually came for her. “But I’m going to find out.”

“You look drained. I’m taking you to bed right now,” Lana stated. She stood up to take charge of the situation, but Harry shook his head. 

“I’ll stand guard tonight. I doubt he’ll return, but …”

“No buts,” Lana said with finality. 

He wanted to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. He let her lead him down the hall to her room, the door closing softly behind them. Harry flared his powers, and the bedroom door suddenly disappeared. It was replaced by an empty stretch of wall. “Just in case,” Harry said when Lana looked confused. 

Lana went into the bathroom, changed into a long T-shirt, then pulled back the covers. Harry tiredly removed his clothes, leaving only his boxers on, and slid under the comforter. Lana then turned out the light and got in beside him.

She lay stiff on her back, arms at her sides, staring at the ceiling. Her body was still trembling from the waning adrenaline. She didn’t move for a long moment. Then she turned to face him, pressed her forehead against his chest, and curled into his warmth. Harry wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.

After a while, she whispered, “Thank you for saving me again.”

He kissed the top of her head while his hand traced slow circles on her back. “Anytime.”

She relaxed, her soft body growing heavy against him.

The Last Guardian

Lana’s alarm blared at six, and for once, she woke up on the very first ring. Lana could see through the crack in the curtain that the sun wasn’t up yet. Reaching over to her nightstand, she turned on the light before lying back down. She lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, staring at the slow, steady rise and fall of Harry’s bare chest.

He was dead to the world. His eyes were softly closed, his hair was a mess, and he had one arm flung wide over the pillow and the other tangled around her waist. She’d never seen a man look so peaceful after being shot three times and stabbed. The only sign that last night had been real was the very faint red line on his ribs.

.

She let her eyes trace the line of his jaw, his light stubble, and the way his mouth slightly curled up at the corners when he slept. There was something playful about him, even in his unconsciousness. His lashes were thick and dark against his pale skin. She watched the shift of his body as he inhaled and exhaled. The alarm blared again. Harry’s fingers twitched on her waist, but he didn’t wake.

She wondered if she should let him sleep. After what he’d been through, maybe he deserved a little rest. Maybe, she thought, it would be better if he slept until she’d figured out what she should do. They were friends, but she’d felt his body pressed up against hers all night. It felt warm and safe. She’d dreamed about that feeling for hours, and now, she felt both nervous and excited about the possibilities.

Lana reached over him and slapped the alarm. She slid back into the crook of his arm and closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself pretend that this was completely normal. She thought about what it would be like to wake up with him as a boyfriend, instead of a superhuman wizard who was constantly having to save her life.

A minute later, Harry shifted and rolled onto his back, nearly pulling her with him. His eyes opened, still heavy with sleep. They were the same impossible green as always, but softer in the dim light. He blinked twice, looked down at her, and smiled handsomely.

“Morning,” he said. His sleepy voice was deeper than usual. “Sleep well?”

Lana felt the blush in her ears before she felt it in her cheeks. She tried to cover her mouth, but her lips were already curling into a smile. “You could say that … if you don’t count all the worrying I did,” she answered honestly.

He stretched, arching his back and making a show of flexing every muscle. Lana tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. He caught her looking and grinned wider. “Enjoying the show?”

Lana rolled her eyes, but didn’t look away. “You’re insufferable,” she said, smacking his belly. She laughed when he responded with a loud, “OOF!”

Harry rolled onto his side, propped his head on his hand, and stared at her for a long moment. “I hope you didn’t worry too much last night,” he said.

She shrugged and played with the edge of her comforter. “You did almost die.”

He smiled kindly at her. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in worse shape before.”

Lana didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she reached out and touched the fading line on his ribs, tracing it with one finger. “It doesn’t even look like it hurt.”

Harry brushed his fingers over the top of her hand. That small gesture made her body tingle pleasantly. “It did, but it was worth it.”

They looked at each other. She thought about the night before. She thought about the blood, the fear, and the horrific wounds she saw. She thought about how he’d held her after, even though he’d been injured so badly. She thought about the way he always joked and teased, but never once let her down. She wanted to ask what that meant for them, but she couldn’t find the words.

Harry stopped playing with her hand, but kept his eyes on her face. “You want to get cleaned up?” he asked. “I think you’ve still got blood on your neck.”

She touched her throat and felt a dried patch just below her ear. “Oh, gross,” she said.

Harry laughed, and his eyes flashed bright green for a second. The sticky patch on her neck vanished. A ripple ran over her skin, and suddenly she felt fresher, as if she’d just stepped out of the shower. Her teeth were smooth, her hair fell neatly onto her shoulders, and the aches in her back disappeared. Lana jerked in surprise just as she always did.

“It’s so not fair that you can just magic away the gross stuff.”

He smirked. “You prefer the old-fashioned way?”

She thought about sharing a bathroom with him. She pictured them brushing their teeth side by side, bumping shoulders, and fighting over the sink. The thought made her smile.

“I’ll go first,” Lana said, and rolled out of bed. She went into her dresser and closet, choosing what she was going to wear. He checked out her smooth legs as she padded into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Harry heard her washing up. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with both hands. He felt good and energized. By then, the pain from the gunshot wounds was a distant memory.

His body flared green, and he was suddenly dressed. He ran a hand through his hair, which refused to cooperate, and checked himself in the mirror. He looked the same as always, maybe a bit more tired around the eyes, but his color was good. His eyes, he noticed, almost glowed in the reflection.

He heard Lana brushing her teeth and humming something. She came out a few minutes later, wearing a loose gray sweater and a pair of tight jeans. She stared at Harry, then laughed. “Already dressed, I see,” she said, looking him over.

“I’m very low-maintenance,” he said with a smile.

They moved through the rest of the morning on autopilot. Lana made toast, and Harry fixed the coffee maker when it started making weird sounds. They ate together at the kitchen counter, shoulders touching. When it was time to leave, Lana hesitated by the front door. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “I mean … Maybe you need a day or two to recover.”

Harry smiled, reached out, and rubbed her arm. “Stop worrying. I feel great,” he said.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Good.” They walked out to her car together, locking up behind them.

The Last Guardian

Harry sat in his last period class, watching the clock inch closer to freedom. He had no intention of staying late, but when the bell finally rang, he made a show of packing up slowly so he could avoid the stampede out the door. He saw Chloe and Clark in the hallway, Chloe practically skipping beside him. He shouldered his bag and followed at a distance.

The football field was as loud as always, but the mood was off. Harry stood on the edge of the bleachers, scanning the crowd. Clark was already on the field, helmet in hand, listening to a coach bark orders. Chloe bounced along the sideline in her cheerleader outfit, and her skirt swished with every step. Her cartwheel was less a wheel and more a lopsided flop, but she smiled so hard he thought her face might break.

Harry scanned for Jason, but the coach was nowhere to be seen. He waited, hoping to spot him, but the practice ran for half an hour with no sign of Lana’s ex anywhere on the field. Jason was Harry’s number one suspect, and it was highly suspicious that he was suddenly missing.

Chloe approached Harry, her steps light and flirty. “Did you come to cheer on Clark as well?” she asked, batting her lashes. The mascara was caked on, and there was a smear of glitter on each eyelid. 

“Sure,” Harry said. “You seem… energetic today.”

Chloe giggled and twirled a pom-pom. “Go team!” she said, and then tried another cartwheel. She landed on her knees and got dirt all over them. She didn’t even flinch as she hopped back to her feet.

Harry shook his head. “Why don’t you take a break? Come sit beside me,” Harry suggested, patting the spot next to him. 

She smiled at him, but shook her head. “I can’t. Clark needs me,” she said, then scampered off to rejoin the others. Chloe did a high kick and nearly fell on her butt, and a group of football players snorted in amusement. This was getting out of hand.

Lois showed up ten minutes later. She wore tight jeans and a small zip-up sweater, with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She stalked toward Harry, dodging an airborne football on the way. “The cheerleaders are having a pool party in the school tonight,” she said in a low voice. “I got Clark on board. You just have to back me up.”

Harry eyed her. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Do you have a better one?” Lois asked.

He shook his head. “Not unless you want me to seduce the entire cheerleading squad and get the truth out of them that way. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad plan.”

She shot him an unimpressed look, then leaned in. “Here’s the deal. The ringleader, Mandy, keeps the formula for the antidote in a folder in her bag. We just have to get it.”

Harry nodded. “That sounds simple enough.”

Lois eyed him. “Clark’s going to distract Mandy. You and I sneak in, grab the bag, and get out. Then we can fix Chloe and everyone else.”

Harry watched as Clark tossed a perfect spiral down the field. Mandy bounced around and cheered Clark’s name. “They really do make a cute couple,” he said, just to annoy Lois.

She thumped him on the arm, which made Harry chuckle. Lois rolled her eyes, then stalked off, but not before tossing him a thumbs-up. Harry watched her go, wondering how this small farm town had gotten so strange.

The Last Guardian

Later that night, the halls of Smallville High were empty except for the janitor and a handful of teachers setting up for a PTA meeting. Harry skulked along the side corridors and met Lois at the east entrance just as they’d planned. She wore tight black pants and an equally tight black shirt. He had to admit, she looked pretty hot. 

“You look like you’re about to rob the Smallville Savings and Loan,” Harry whispered.

She smirked. “Who says I’m not? You ready?”

He nodded, and they snuck in. They kept to the shadows, creeping past the band room and the faculty lounge. They reached the pool room and peeked through the window. It was packed with jocks and cheerleaders. The pool was open, and every single person in there was dripping wet and half-naked, squealing, splashing, and wrestling in the water. The girls wore bright, tiny swimsuits, and the guys had all stripped to their trunks. It looked like a scene from an over-the-top teen comedy.

Harry stared at the cheerleaders, and it took him a minute to realize Lois was talking. “Do you see her?” she asked in a sharp whisper.

He blinked. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Potter. You’re as bad as the rest of them.”

He grinned. “That’s a low blow, Lois. I’m just appreciative of their choice in swimwear. You may not know this, but I’m a bit of a fashionista myself.” Lois snorted in response.

“Yeah … I’m sure it’s their bikinis you’re ogling. If you’d just put your tongue back in your mouth, we could …” Harry shushed her. 

 She glared as Harry whispered, “Look! It’s Clark.”

Lois hip bumped him out of the way and looked through the window. Mandy hugged Clark’s arm, then took him by the hand. She then led him away from the pool and into the locker room. “That’s our cue. Let’s go,” she told him. 

They slipped through the boys’ locker room, empty except for a pair of towels on the floor and a rank smell of sweat. Lois peeked around the corner and motioned Harry forward. “There,” she whispered.

Mandy, in a brightly colored bikini, was perched on a weight bench with her arms around Clark, who was wearing nothing but blue trunks. She was straddling his lap with her tongue shoved down his throat. Harry gave her some credit. The girl was relentless.

“Not bad,” Harry muttered, admiring Mandy’s commitment.

Lois elbowed him. “Pipe down and stay here. I’ll get the bag.”

Harry ducked behind a row of lockers and watched as Lois slipped into the room, keeping low and quiet. She moved like she’d done this before, hugging the shadows and pausing every time Mandy giggled, or Clark shifted on the bench. Lois crawled on her hands and knees and reached for the bag. She quietly grabbed it and crawled behind a desk. Lois unzipped the bag, pawed through it, and then froze.

Mandy turned, still on Clark’s lap. “Did you hear something?”

Clark turned her head back toward him. “Umm … maybe the janitor?”

Mandy pursed her lips, then shrugged and started sucking on Clark’s neck again. Lois exhaled, dug in the bag, and found what she was looking for. She took out a thick manila folder and tucked it under her shirt. Then, with a quick, nimble crawl, she darted all the way back to Harry.

“Got it,” she mouthed.

“Let’s go,” he said, and together they hustled down the hallway.

They made it down the stairs and toward the basement, Harry leading the way. He ducked into the boiler room, which was dim and full of echoing pipes. Lois slammed the door behind them and put her back to it. She pulled the folder out from under her shirt and began looking through it while Harry scanned the room for exits. He spotted a door on the far side, but before he could suggest it, something heavy smashed into the back of his head. His vision went white. He hit the ground and rolled over, blinking away the stars.

Standing over him, wielding a thick length of pipe, was Chloe. Her eyes were wild and glassy. She raised the pipe again and charged at Lois. 

“Every time I turn my back, you’re always around Clark! I knew you were trying to steal him from me!” Chloe screeched, but Lois stepped in and grabbed Chloe by the arm. Chloe swung the pipe anyway, and the two of them crashed into a pile of cleaning rags.

“I’m getting kind of tired of being attacked from behind,” Harry muttered, rubbing his head. “Seriously, am I a magnet for the criminally insane?”

Chloe screeched, and Lois tried to wrestle the pipe away. Harry watched for a second, then stepped in. He grabbed Chloe around the waist with one arm and put her in a chokehold with the other. He squeezed as lightly as possible while still cutting off her oxygen. She thrashed around for a few seconds before going limp. Harry scooped her up before she could fall. Lois rushed over to check on her. 

“Is she okay?” Lois asked, making sure she wasn’t permanently injured. 

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. I’m not sure how long she’ll be out, so we need to hurry,” Harry told her. Lois nodded. 

“Hopefully, Clark will keep Mandy occupied so we can …”

“Guys!” Clark suddenly shouted as he entered the boiler room. Lois huffed, and the annoyance in her eyes was clear.

“Good work on keeping her busy, Smallville,” Lois said with her hands on her hips. 

“Mandy found her empty bag and flipped out,” Clark told them. “What happened to Chloe?” he asked, seeing her unconscious in Harry’s arms. Lois explained while Harry handed Chloe off to Clark. 

“We need to get to the chemistry classroom to try to make this antidote,” Lois told them. Clark nodded and carried Chloe out of the boiler room and up the stairs. 

As they raced down the empty hallway, they heard voices growing louder. The football jocks were searching every room, and they were getting closer. They turned the corner, and a group of jocks blocked the way. There were three of them, each holding a baseball bat. They looked quite menacing, and their eyes were crazed with the same weird intensity as Chloe’s had been. They looked at the folder in Lois’s hand.

“Hand it over,” the biggest one said. “Or we’ll break your legs.”

Harry stepped forward. “Trust me … You don’t want to do this.”

The jock sneered. “Yeah? Who’s gonna stop us, you?”

Harry smiled and cracked his knuckles. “Exactly.”

The three charged at once. Harry ducked the first bat, let the second guy swing wide, and then drove his fist into the leader’s gut. The man doubled over, and Harry slammed his knee into the guy’s nose, sending him sprawling. The next jock swung the bat, but Harry caught it in one hand, twisted, and used the momentum to fling the guy into the wall. The last jock hesitated, looking at his fallen friends, then lunged.

Harry sidestepped and kicked the man’s legs out from under him. The jock landed hard, and Harry pressed a knee to his chest.

“Stay down,” Harry said as the guy violently thrashed. Harry rolled his eyes and smacked the guy on the side of the head, knocking him out cold. 

Lois and Clark watched, wide-eyed. “Dang, Harry! I didn’t know you had moves like that,” Lois said, clearly impressed.

“I’m not just a gorgeous face with a killer body, you know,” Harry teased with a smirk. 

“I know. You also have a big mouth and a caveman brain,” Lois teased back. Harry poked her in the ribs, and she squealed and smacked his hand away. He smiled at Lois, who smiled back, cocking her hip to the side. “We make a good team,” she said.

Harry smiled. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Lois waggled her eyebrows. “Still, maybe next time don’t get knocked out by a hundred-pound cheerleader.”

He chuckled before Clark cut in. “Guys … The antidote,” he reminded them. 

“Oh, yeah. Good thinking, Smallville,” Lois said, opening the door to the chemistry lab. “You coming, Harry?” she asked. 

“I’ll drag these guys into an empty classroom, then we can give them the antidote when it’s ready,” he told them. Clark nodded and carried Chloe into the lab. 

Once they closed the door behind them, Harry looked down at the mess of bodies and sighed. “I could be at home right now in bed with a very sexy Lana Lang. Instead, I’m dragging around these meatheads who won’t even have the decency to say thank you when this is all over.” 

He dragged the football players into the room across the hall and used his magic to seal the lock. They wouldn’t be getting out until Harry was good and ready. He joined Lois and Clark, who were already preparing to brew the antidote. He’d let Clark deal with Mandy, though he wasn’t sure what the police could do about her. 

Halfway through the process, Chloe’s eyes fluttered open. Harry sat down next to her, and when she saw him, she smiled happily. “Hey, Harry! What happened to me?” she asked, but then saw Clark. Her eyes immediately went glassy, and she sighed in pure bliss. “Clark,” she said in a breathy voice. When she saw Lois, her eyes narrowed. “What’s she doing here?”

All three of them rolled their eyes, and Harry stayed with Chloe until they were finished. After successfully giving Chloe the antidote, Harry gave it to the three meatheads and sent them on their way. 

“Thanks for the help, Harry,” Clark said as they bottled up the antidote. “I’ll make sure everyone who’s affected gets some.”

Harry nodded. “Good. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

After some quick goodbyes, Harry found an empty classroom and apparated home. He was more than ready for a nice, relaxing night.