Author's Note: I do not own the characters. Whilst I liked this episode, I felt there needed to be more of an acknowledgement from those around Clark for wrongly casting Alicia as the villain of the piece, even though Clark did find an ally of sorts. This story is not an ode to Alicia, but that girl died believing everybody else saw her as guilty while she knew the real truth, and this is something that should have been touched upon at least briefly over the course of the season.

AFTER DARK.

He stood in place, his body very much there and his feet firmly planted, but his mind was elsewhere. He could hear voices beside him but at the same time, they seemed so far away.

Various police officers were milling around, asking questions or surveying the scene to gather evidence. The EMTs were on the scene, wheeling away the gurney carrying the injured Tim Westcott. He had been unable to answer any questions as he lay there in pain, shivering with shock. His face and arms were covered with superficial burns.

Sheriff Adams continued with her line of questioning, aiming to strike a sympathetic note as well as maintaining her professionalism. She knew the victim, and she knew Clark pretty well too. It was obvious that he was distraught. "Is there anything more you can tell us, Mr Kent?"

"No, that's everything," replied Clark quietly, staring into the distance.

It just didn't seem real. He was in a living nightmare and no matter how many times he blinked or how much he tried to let his mind drift to happier and simpler times, it all came back to the here and now. The impersonal expressions on the faces of the figures in the display in front of him, the sepia-tinged lighting, the solid wooden floors. All were there as a reminder of simpler times - the Smallville of years gone by. Alicia, in her barn under the dim light, bereft of life, brief and full of anguish though it had been. That image just didn't fit. She didn't deserve any of this, and she'd never been given the chance to show that she was far removed from the monster the locals had painted her as. How many of them would reconsider their initial disdain for the young woman now that she was dead?

"Sheriff, what happens now?" asked Lois beside him, her mind also struggling to take in the events of the evening. Though she'd never personally met Alicia, she knew that Alicia and Clark were very close, and she'd seen first-hand just how devastated Clark was when he found Alicia's body. It was the first time she had seen him truly upset about something. He wasn't the most outwardly emotional of people, that much she knew. Her own thoughts kept going back to the inky black pools she saw when she looked into Clark's eyes as he tightened his hands around Tim's throat, slowly choking the life out of him. The inky black pools just did not belong there.

"We're still trying to contact Miss Baker's folks but they're out of town," replied the Sheriff. "We'll try to get answers from Mr Westcott. Is there anyone we can contact for you?"

Lois thought of mentioning her father but decided against it. She knew he might contact the Kents personally to offer some words once she'd told him about what had happened, but he would save any harsh words for Lois until the inevitable interrogation afterwards. An interrogation that was as unwelcome as it was unwarranted since he would find a way to show Lois where she had gone wrong.

"No. I'll let Chloe know though. It's getting late and she must be waiting up for me."

"Clark!" came a cry from somewhere nearby. A familiar female voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois saw Jonathan and Martha rush into the museum. They were briefly held up by the officer at the door until the Sheriff waved them over. They were understandably frantic after the brief phone call from Lois less than twenty minutes ago.

"Hello?"

"Mrs Kent! It's Lois. I need you and Mr Kent to hurry over to the museum like right now. Something's happened. It's Clark."

"Lois, what's the matter? Is Clark alright? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'll explain everything when you get here. Just hurry!"

The line went dead as Martha stared at the receiver in her hand. The urgency in Lois' voice was unmistakable. Something bad had happened to Clark. Panic building inside her, she dashed out of the kitchen and headed straight over to the barn where Jonathan was closing up for the night. She spotted him putting the saddles away.

"Jonathan!" she called out, still clutching the phone in her hand.

Her husband immediately stopped what he was doing and whirled around. He knew from the desperation in her voice that it was something important.

Lois had had the wherewithal to also contact the police as she drove over to the museum. That she may have run a red light or two didn't bother her in the slightest. She practically yelled her clipped explanation and instructions to the non-plussed operator, telling them that they needed to get over to the museum, stat. Lois knew that Tim would still be there (he'd mentioned during their date that he stayed late most nights because it was a great place to think and work when it was quiet), and she was certain that Clark was headed that way.

Martha hurried over to Clark first, her hands reaching for his shoulders to establish immediately what had happened. The paralysed demeanour was new, but the wetness in his eyes told her that it was bad news. Jonathan could tell that his son had been traumatised by whatever it was. Feeling that Martha had a handle on lending Clark her considerable emotional support for the time being, he decided that he should lend his practical support and find out everything he can to tackle the problem.

"Sheriff, what's going on?"

The Sheriff pulled Jonathan carefully to one side, just out of earshot of Clark. It didn't feel right to replay the episode in front of him given his emotional state.

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Mr Kent. Your son says that when he went over to Miss Baker's house, he found her in one of the stables. We have officers at the scene right now. I'm afraid Miss Baker is dead."

Jonathan was stunned. "Alicia's dead?"

"We're trying to establish motive. She was either murdered or it was suicide. Considering how she was something of a pariah in these parts, I can't rule out anything."

Jonathan winced internally at the notion that Alicia Baker was a pariah to the townsfolk of Smallville. He had been at best sceptical about her relationship with his son, but generally he disapproved and felt that Alicia was bad news no matter how sweet she was whenever she was around Clark. Still, the girl was now no more and he'd been brought up to not speak ill of the dead. He was still confused about why they were all here at the museum.

"How is Lois involved in all this? Did something happen here at the museum?"

"Miss Lane said in her statement that she went to find your son. She was out on a date with a fellow student who works here, and she believes he was the one behind the attacks on Miss Lang and Mr Teague. She found your son right after he discovered Miss Baker's body. Miss Lane told him and said he high-tailed over here to duke it out with the suspect."

"I see," said Jonathan. Looking over at Lois leaning against an old gas pump deep in thought, he put two and two together and realised she must have called right after whatever had happened here in the museum. "Sheriff, where is the suspect now?" he asked, noting that the Sheriff hadn't divulged a name. He couldn't help the worried frown that had formed on his brow. Did he know the suspect? It was a small town after all. Also, had Clark used his abilities?

"He's on his way to hospital. Now your son claims that our suspect was able to turn himself into a cloud of dust, and that's how he got away with the attacks on the others. I'm not one for tall tales but I've stuck around long enough in this town to have seen my fair share of things that can't be explained in any normal sense. Something must've gone wrong because he burned himself as they were fighting, and that's how your son says he managed to restrain him."

Jonathan turned around to see Martha gently cradling Clark's face, cooing sadly. His son looked more crestfallen than he'd ever seen him. The suspect had suffered burns. Maybe Clark did have to use his abilities. Maybe the suspect now knew that Clark was out of the ordinary. Although Alicia's death was certainly nothing trivial, Jonathan instinctively worried about Clark's secret being out in the open. A mindset built over a decade and a half.

The Sheriff's radio blared suddenly, the message requiring her immediate attention.

"I think I have about all I'm gonna get here this evening. I'm heading on over to the hospital, so I suggest y'all go on home and try to get some rest. I'll be in touch," the Sheriff suggested, signalling to the other officers that she will be leaving the scene.

With that, the Sheriff moved away so Jonathan walked over to Clark, allowing Martha to step aside. She went over to Lois and gave her a hug, recognising that it must have been a difficult evening for her too.

Clark's parents gently led Clark over to their truck parked outside, and they made their way back to the farm with Lois following behind.

At the farm, Clark stepped out of the vehicle as his legs carried him towards the barn. He was on auto-pilot, needing his personal sanctuary.

"Clark?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like some time alone. It's been a long night," replied Clark, with his back to his parents, his voice emotionless and barely carrying in the crisp night air. He didn't wait for an answer, sliding open the barn door and closing it behind him as his parents watched, worried beyond belief.

Lois pulled up and got out of her car just as Clark disappeared from view.

"Is he alright?"

"He's still trying to process everything," Jonathan sighed sadly. Part of him wanted to follow Clark into the barn and talk to his son about what had happened, to see how Clark was really coping. However, he also understood that it would be wise to give Clark a little bit of time and space to gather his thoughts.

"How about you Lois?" asked Martha, seeing that Lois had pulled up her coat and fastened the top button to keep out the night chill. She suspected that Lois' shivers weren't entirely down to the cool night air.

Lois sighed. "To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to be feeling right now."

"I'll put on some coffee," suggested Martha. "Why don't you come on inside."

The idea of a nice, hot coffee was just the ticket. Lois nodded and with that, the three of them went into the house.

It was only once she'd warmed her hands on the mug and taken a soothing sip of the hot beverage that Lois felt her body begin to calm down. She'd been running on adrenaline ever since they'd discovered Alicia's body. The sip also gave her time to decide what to say before speaking. She didn't trust herself not to blurt out the first ill-conceived thought that came into her head.

"It's hard to know where to start."

"Just tell us what you can, from the beginning."

Lois took a deep breath. "I guess it all started on the night Lana was attacked. Me and Chloe were on stage at the Talon during karaoke night. I was flirting with this one guy as part of our act, just for fun. Then Clark showed up with Alicia, and it was like a total buzzkill. You could've heard a pin drop. No-one knew what to say, and no-one was paying attention to the karaoke any more so we just decided not to hang around. I didn't know anything had happened to Lana until later."

"Where does this guy Tim come into it?" asked Martha.

That was the first time Jonathan had heard the suspect's name. The Sheriff had said it was a local student, but the name wasn't familiar to Jonathan. Granted, he didn't know everybody in Smallville but he did have a basic grasp of whose kid was whose. "Tim?"

"Tim Westcott, he was the guy I was flirting with," Lois confessed, embarrassed about admitting to her behaviour that night. The Kent folks had never come across as the type to just accept something like that, no matter how innocent it all was. The bathroom incident early on in her stay at the farm was testament to that. She continued. "He goes to Smallville High and writes for the Torch. He was handing Chloe an article but when he saw that I was there too, he asked me out on a date. He must've been under the impression I was interested after karaoke night. Anyway, Chloe took matters in her own hands and agreed on my behalf so I couldn't just back out."

Martha was surprised that Lois would be so unsure of herself in such a situation. Observing Lois around the farm and listening to her when she bantered with Clark, she was always sure of herself and not likely to ever let herself be railroaded into anything. "If you had doubts, you could have politely declined."

"I'd just been telling Chloe that I needed to get out more, and she used that to her advantage. I never stood a chance. I've learned never to underestimate how devious my little cousin can be."

"So this Tim Westcott just told you he was behind the attacks?" prompted Jonathan. Westcott wasn't a familiar name around these parts.

"Not in so many words, Mr Kent. The date was a complete bust. I kept watching the clock and eyeing the exit and I was ready to high-tail it out of the nearest bathroom window if necessary. He kept going on and on about the old days here in Smallville. How it was a simpler time - as if that's even possible - before the meteor showers, before the townsfolk lost their morals. He made it sound as though he was talking through bitter experience, which I don't get because he's our age. He'd be too young to remember the old days. Anyway, he wasn't happy about Lana and the coach being in a relationship. It was wrong and immoral, yet they were so open about it and no-one even cared or said anything. He reckoned they deserved everything they got."

Martha frowned. "This Tim definitely seems misguided, but that's a bit brazen of him to admit those attacks were a good thing."

"He was actually really quiet and shy, Mrs Kent," explained Lois. "But talking about the old days and people's morals really lit a fire under him. He knows everything about the history of this little cowpoke town."

"Still, it's a pretty strong opinion to hold."

"Yeah, he definitely seemed to be a little too happy about it. He's like those people you hear about who become radicalised by some nutty religious wackjob. Crazy with a capital C for sure," added Lois, pouring herself another cup.

"So because he approved of the attacks, it's possible he would have been behind an attack on Alicia. But why go after her?"

"Everyone already had the knives out for her, so it would be easy to let her take the fall. Maybe he wanted to make it look like a suicide. Maybe he told her the same thing he told me."

"Lois, did he happen to mention that he knew Alicia?" asked Martha.

Lois paused for a moment. "Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure Alicia's name ever came up."

"Lois, I know he said some things to you but we have to be careful before we throw accusations around," said Jonathan.

"I know," Lois answered wearily. "He'd have to know where Alicia lived, and he'd have to make sure she was alone. And he'd have to have done it at some time today since we saw Alicia earlier."

"It sounds like a lot of trouble to go through to frame Alicia though."

"Well, a lot of people already knew about Alicia, and he was there on karaoke night when Alicia stopped by. And it's not exactly a secret that Clark and Alicia went off to Vegas to elope. For someone with his finger on the moral pulse of this town, that's gotta be a red flag."

" I understand you're only trying to help but we need to leave it to the Sheriff to figure it out. They're still trying to contact Alicia's parents but they're out of town." Jonathan turned to Martha who was looking at him quizzically. "I overheard the Sheriff's radio."

"Yeah, and I overheard the Sheriff talking with her deputy after I'd given my statement," Lois cut in. "She was clearly following the same line of thought. It's creepy enough if he went and did something after our date, but if he'd done something beforehand, that just dials the creepy up to eleven." Lois shuddered at the thought.

"What happened when you left Tim?"

"I went to find Clark but he wasn't here so I asked Chloe at the Talon. She told me I might track him down at Alicia's place so I went to look for him there."

"The Sheriff said you found them both?"

"Yeah. There was no-one home but I could hear a dog barking out back. Not normal barking, but like it had been spooked by something. That's when I heard Clark's voice. He was..." She gulped. The memory of Clark's anguish all too vivid.

"He was what?"

"She had a noose around her neck. She wasn't breathing so she must have been dead for some time."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged concerned glances. The presence of the noose would explain why the Sheriff was looking at it as murder or suicide. Either way, Alicia's parents would be getting the devastating news from the police very soon. Martha reached out and patted Lois' arm. "Lois, I know this must be hard for you too. You don't have to go into detail if you don't want to."

"No I'm OK, really. I...can't blame him for feeling so broken. He obviously really cared about her."

"I'm afraid it's not the first time he's lost someone he'd gotten close to."

"It's not?"

Martha and Jonathan exchanged glances once more.

"There was this girl, Kyla, he was friends with a few years ago. He met Kyla and her grandfather Professor Willowbrook after the discovery of the caves. The Professor was a member of the local Kawatche Indian tribe. Clark was interested in the history of the caves for an article and Professor Willowbrook was happy to tell Clark stories about the Kawatche people and the importance of the caves. Clark and Kyla had only known each other for a few days before she died, but they'd gotten close. He was with her when she passed away."

"Oh my god!" Lois could still picture the scene in Alicia's barn, and Clark overcome with grief. That it had happened to him once before must be absolutely soul-destroying. Clark needed sympathy and support, not the usual teasing, bickering and annoyance.

"He takes everything to heart, Lois," Martha explained sadly. "Even when there's nothing he could've done about it."

Silence.

"So, what happens now?" Lois piped up, changing the subject to hide the fact that Mrs Kent's sad story had struck a nerve. To have been through this once was tough enough, but twice? How does someone even come back from that?

"The Sheriff said she'd be in touch. Right now, we just need to be there for Clark." Jonathan was dreading what the next few days would hold. He could scarcely imagine how Alicia's parents would be feeling once they'd learned what had happened to their daughter.

"It's getting late, Lois. Why don't you stay the night?" Martha offered.

"Thanks Mrs Kent, and thanks for the coffee, but I know Chloe will be wondering where I am. I haven't spoken to her since I bumped into her earlier. Besides, it wouldn't be right to kick Clark out of his bed tonight of all nights."

She finished the rest of her coffee and headed for the door. Martha followed her out.

"If you need anything Lois, or just to talk, you know where we are."

Lois nodded her thanks and left, as Martha looked on with a face full of worry. Lois would put a brave face on it, but the events of this evening were traumatic for even the bravest of faces. Martha hoped Lois would reach out in time.

Making her way back to the car, Lois' attention was suddenly drawn to the barn door. The door was ever so slightly ajar and she could make out a thin beam of light through the gap. Lois pondered whether she ought to call it a night and head back to Chloe's, or whether she should go up to Clark's loft and try to speak with him. Deciding it was best to give Clark some space, she opened her car door.

She'd barely placed her right foot inside when a flash of memory from earlier hit her.

She raced into the museum, shocked to see Clark strangling Tim. How Clark had got there so fast was a mystery she would probably never find an answer to, because he drove like an old lady no matter the hurry. It was a physical mismatch with Tim pinned against a post, while Clark was as strong as an ox. She understood Clark's grief and anger and his need to act, but this wasn't the way to do it. It simply wouldn't do for Clark to get blood on his hands just because Tim had Alicia's blood on his.

"Clark, you're killing him!" she called out as she sprinted over.

Clark's hands squeezed Tim's throat tighter. Tim was gasping for breath and one look in Clark's eyes showed Lois the inky blackness of murderous intent. It was a sight that frightened Lois. Clark wanted Tim to pay with his life for what he did to Alicia.

"Stop!" she whispered desperately.

Clark continued to squeeze tighter, ignoring her.

"Let him go!" she pleaded, fully aware of her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn't Clark. He wasn't the type to act first and think later. That was more her thing.

She saw Clark blink away a tear and take a step back. To her sheer relief, Clark let go of Tim who slumped to the floor, whimpering and gasping for air in the foetal position. He would not be hurting anybody again.

The memory caused Lois to leap back out of the car. Clark had listened to her! In a moment of total devastation and absolutely intent on revenge, she had managed to get through to him. She always seemed to be able to get through to him, as pig-headed as he could be. Clark always seemed to get through to her too, as stubborn as she could be. Maybe this was their thing, where in some weird way they lent each other some perspective from the trials and tribulations of life and growing up.

Maybe he would listen to her now. She wasn't sure what she would say or even if Clark would be at all receptive, but she had to say something. Lois shut her car door and headed for the barn, opening the door further and stepping inside. The draft that followed her inside forced her to button her coat right up to her chin - her warm breath beneath her collar sending a gentle heat that travelled down her chest, both calming her nerves and staving off the shivers.

Lois took the steps slowly to prevent the wood from creaking too much. As she reached the top, her eyes adjusted to the light and she could see Clark sitting on the floor up against the battered old couch, shoulders slumped forward. His red jacket was draped carefully over the edge. In just his blue t-shirt, she wondered if he even felt the cold. There was a dull, repetitive thud coming from somewhere. Moving closer she noticed he was bouncing a ball on the floor and off the far wall, catching the ball as it arced back to him. He was deep in thought, and who could blame him. What emotions and inner thoughts was his blank expression masking? Anger? Sorrow? Regret? Despair? Vengeance?

Clark sensed that Lois was on her way up to the loft. Something about the way the wooden steps creaked under the weight told him it was not his mother. She had a tendency to glide her hand along the banister as she climbed with a soft shuffle. Or his father, with his tired but purposeful steps with his hand reaching out for the handrail only once he had ascended the final step. He knew their sounds. Every time Lois came up to visit him in his loft, she just sort of emerged from nowhere, with only a faint creak at the end signalling that anyone was there at all. Her loudness and brashness all came from her mouth, not her footsteps.

Clark's mind had been recalling vivid flashes of the events of the evening. The paleness of Alicia's complexion. The blueness of her lips. The coolness of her skin. The rope burn around her neck. Why did this have to happen? The blisters across Tim's wretched face. The ragged gasps for breath. The fingers pawing uselessly against Clark's forceful hands. It would have been so easy and so quick to make him pay. And yet it was a voice - one that normally brought irritation and a will to put on ignore, but this time pleading desperately for him to do the right thing - that broke through and talked him out of it.

How did she do that? She always broke through. He could pretend as much as he liked but things she said would always come to him in recollection. They made him pause and think. Lana would bring confusion and an instinct to shy away from a resolution to the problem. Chloe would bring knowledge and an idea of how to resolve the problem - an instruction manual of sorts. Lois brought clarity by causing him to dissect the problem and find a solution of his own making. He was somehow more proactive.

Leaning against the wooden railing so as not to spook him, Lois finally broke the silence, speaking softly and carefully. "He knew what he was doing."

Clark carried on bouncing the ball, not turning to acknowledge her presence but replying anyway. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Sensing that he hadn't exactly announced her presence as being unwelcome, she edged her way beside him against the couch, just keeping a small distance as she tucked her legs under her.

"No, I can't tell you how you should be feeling. But Tim used everyone's prejudice against Alicia to frame her. No-one would point the finger at him because he doesn't have previous. We were meant to think she'd done it. He wanted you to doubt her."

She realised she couldn't think of anything to add, and suddenly she felt awkward sat beside him but with every fibre trying to figure out how to leave without offending Clark, or sounding callous, or making him think that she just didn't get it. Mulling it over for just a second, she chose to simply stay seated in silence.

Clark continued to bounce and catch the ball, and she kept her eye on the ball.

"Lois?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For stepping in and stopping me. I don't know what I might have done if you hadn't."

"No problem. I get it Clark, your reasons for going after him, but I don't see you as the type to succumb to a crime of passion. I just...didn't wanna see you make the biggest mistake of your life."

"Do you really think that?"

"Clark, you have your whole life ahead of you. It would be a waste to let your best years rot away in a dingy cell, eating prison slop and needing eyes in the back of your head in the showers. If you'd gone ahead and done it, he would win. If he got away scot free, he would win. That creep doesn't deserve the satisfaction."

She watched as Clark's expression changed the tiniest little bit. He still didn't look her in the eye but it was a brief glimpse that showed he was taking in what she was saying. The inky black pools of earlier showed the faintest trace of vivid blue. Feeling as though there was definitely nothing more to add for now, she shifted her weight to get up.

"Why did you say it?"

Lois stopped herself mid-rise. "Say what?"

"You said it would be OK. That everything's gonna be OK. How do you know that it's gonna be OK?"

It was a good question. The sort of thing a worried child would ask their parents after learning that they were getting divorced. Borne of a fear that everything was changing for the worse and that things would not be OK. The child-like innocence of Clark's question hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Honestly? I don't know. It's just what you say to people when something terrible has happened. Especially when it's not their fault. I guess it's meant to offer some small crumb of comfort."

Clark focussed on turning the ball between his fingers, adjusting his grip against the seam.

"Everyone hated her, and everyone was scared of her. But I knew different. Alicia wasn't the person she was made out to be. And now no-one can tell her to her face that they were wrong about her." His own guilt rose up because he also hadn't had a chance to straighten things out.

"Clark, you have every right to be mad. I'm as guilty of that as anybody. I only know what I'd heard about her. We'd never even met. I could say I'm sorry for everything that happened and for not seeing her for who she really was, and I would mean it, but...Alicia's the one I should be saying it to. And I can't. I could apologise to you, and I would mean that too, but what good would that do?"

"If only Alicia were given a chance..."

"Hey!" Lois reached across and gently patted Clark's hand. "We were all in the wrong. You were the only one who believed her, but you have to remember that Tim's the one who took it away from her. He played us all."

She finally stood up, shaking the dust off the back of her jeans as she did so.

"Look, it's late and I have to be heading back. Your parents are really worried about you. Whatever's on your mind, good or bad, just...talk to them. Don't keep it all inside and let it eat away at you. Remember, you can't let Tim win."

To Lois' surprise, Clark finally looked her in the face. She saw the pools of blue for real, maybe even a hint of a smile, which was a small relief. He looked like a little boy lost, far younger than his tender age. He diverted his gaze back to the ball in the next instant. That was her cue to leave.

"G'night, Smallville."

Lois patted him on the shoulder and made her way down to steps. Clark resumed throwing and catching the baseball, with a million and one thoughts swirling in his mind. He couldn't let Tim win.

Alicia wouldn't want him to.

FIN.