Pieces

Exile

A/N: I don't own Smallville or any characters and places in the DC universe. Nor do I own the episodes that these chapters are based on and contained from.

I also don't claim to be a writer. My inspiration is simply to get a creative outlet going.

I only own Tyla Nevin and what pertains to her character story.

____________________________________________________________

The snow poured down as Tyla's boots squished against the mud. Normally, she would be back in the mansion and reading a book, but the voicemail sounded urgent with Clark. She also wouldn't be the type to trek through a cemetery. Funerals were things that she avoided and even the teenage antics of hanging around the dead at night was something that she never found interest in. But it beat staying in and watching Lionel Luthor from afar, wondering if the man would strike or if his holy-again act was going to stick. She spoke to him with two rules in place; one, Lionel would not set foot in the mansion unless it was approved by Lex. Two, Lionel would always be accompanied by security that only Tyla approved and vetted. The reasons for the elder Luthor's visit would be carefully questioned but that was nothing new. Both Lex and Tyla did that regularly. The fresh air was better than the tension.

 At first, she went to the farm only to hear from the boy's father that he was at the cemetery. Now, she found him crouched in front of a gravestone with a rose in his hand. Tyla pressed her lips together and wrapped her green coat around her, keeping the ice and snow from getting her soaked. "I came as soon as I heard," she approached cautiously. "I'm so sorry, Clark." She glanced over, seeing Alicia's tombstone and frowned. "I know how much she meant to you." She crouched next to him and wrapped her arm around Clark's broad shoulders.

"The funeral was this morning," he said, gravely.

"I know. I meant to check my messages sooner but-" She shook her head, slowly. He didn't need excuses. Lex had come to her that morning to tell her that he would be hiring Jason Teague. From guilt or ambition, she couldn't tell but it bestowed to her to find a suitable project for both the men to work on. She didn't have time to look over Jason's credentials to see if he was even qualified to be a project manager. But it was a problem that could be solved later. "I'm here for as long as you want me to be."

Clark reached up and grabbed her hand. He didn't tear his eyes away from the gravestone. It almost looked like he was completely frozen if it weren't for the fact that he was talking to her. "I should have stood up for her more," he said. "I could have stopped her from getting killed like that."

Tyla listened, aware that there were attacks happening in Smallville. Attacks that fit the MO of his late girlfriend. Attacks that now stopped since the culprit was finally caught. "Being framed is not a walk in the park," she recalled. It was only a few months ago that Lex was in a similar situation. "There's no rulebook for those involved either. But I know that you can't just rest on what could have been, what you should have done, or what would be different now. That's a curse."

"I'll gladly take that curse."

"Clark!"

"She wanted me to go with the sheriff. She was different, Tyla but she was working to get better. She made me feel like being different was okay. I didn't want to stand by her, with our differences because..."

"You weren't ready. No one can force you to be ready," she didn't know half of what he was talking about. She knew Alicia was affected; it was all over the files in Belle Reve, but Clark wasn't Belle Reve material. "Whatever differences you have, only you can decide when you can move forward with them."

It was then that Clark looked at her. "It's that kind of acceptance that stops me," he admitted. "Because if there is support like that, there is the opposite, a darkness on the other side as well."

"Well, just know that you have at least one person here who will still support you with whatever decision you make," she looked over at the tombstone and traced her fingers over the name. "And she is still around and supporting you. She might not physically be here but she's watching over you, Clark."

Clark felt at ease. It never struck him that Tyla was spiritual in some way. All the comments of her being a Miracle Angel and he wasn't sure if she even believed in such things. "I really cared about her," was all he could say.

"She knew, Clark. She knew you loved her." She leaned her head against his shoulder and stayed silent. Which seemed to be what he wanted, to revel in silence. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want to remember the last moments with Alicia to be those of distress. Every so often, Clark spoke about a moment between him and Alicia. Within those stories, Tyla found herself wiping tears from the teen's face and secretly hoping that whatever secrets he was keeping was worth the grief.