Summer Story:A Summer Rain 6/7
10/12/04 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHello little ones! Snuggle up close to the fire, pass out those mugs of chocolate...it's time to hear a story!
The first parts of the story are here, staring at you and wondering if you're edible
Lex had been disappointed to find out that the fort in the woods was no longer used, but he was getting used to the fortress, as they called the top floor of the barn on the Kent property.
It was pretty cool, especially since a few weeks past, the Kent’s had let Clark have some old furniture, including a couch, which was a blessing for Whit, it gave him a more comfortable, safe place to sleep. Lex was pretty sure from watching the Kent’s faces when they chatted with Whit that they knew darn well that he slept there a lot now.Pretty darn sure, especially since the little dorm room fridge had suddenly appeared in the loft.
Clark knew for sure, and knew the reason why. Lex had known that Clark would figure it out eventually, and Whitney was just finally going to have to talk to him.
It was a gray day, chilly for July and wet, the on and off rain pattering over the barn roof, the kind of day that was good for sitting around, reading comics, or the secret stash of soft-core porn magazines hidden under the pile of comics in the box. They were doing just that, sitting around the fortress, reading and killing time till Pete got back from some family function in Metropolis, and out of the blue, Clark began questioning Whitney about his dad, tentative, gentle probing but Whit was Whit, and Lex froze, waiting for the boy to explode. Instead he blew his too long bangs off his fore head and just sighed.
“Clark, you don’t really want to know about this stuff—it’s not something you’ll ever have to deal with ok? I know what I’m doing, and I know how to handle it. Besides, it’s not like you can help anyway.” He slumped a little lower down the side of the couch, and spread his legs out on the floor. He folded his arms over his chest and he looked so much like fifth grader Whitney that Lex’s heart ached for him.
Clark sat up on the rough floorboards and shook Whit’s ankle. “ Whitney, don’t I know a lot all ready, don’t you think I’ve got a lot figured out?” Lex’s eyes shot towards Whitney. What? What did Clark know?
“ See, Whit, that’s why he can get away with it, you never say anything. You act like it’s your fault, and it’s not!”
“Fucking yeah, it’s not my fault,” Whit spat angrily. “He’s a dick, that’s the problem. He’s a stupid motherfucker and I wish he were dead!” Whit was so angry that his face was red, and his eyes shimmered with tears—neither one of the boys were foolish enough to think they were tears of unhappiness or sorrow, they were tears of pure frustration, of wanting to kill so bad, and not being able to do a thing about it, of years of being beaten and bent into some twisted new form--
Lex reached down from his seat on the couch and looped his arm around Whitney’s head. Whitney leaned his forehead on Lex’s arm and sobbed once, quickly, before sitting up again and staring dry-eyed into something only he could see. He leaned away from Lex and pulled in his legs. Sitting cross-legged, his elbows planted on his knees, he began to talk.
“Everything was fine, you know, normal I guess, until fifth grade, and then things… changed, my dad—he drinks a lot. Mom too, I can’t blame her though, it’s kinda scary when you never know what’s going to happen day by day. The worse he got, the more she tried to make things better, make him happy, and I just kind off dropped off the map. She’s going nuts, spending all her time trying to keep *him* from going nuts. That’s Mom’s thing, being a perfectly drunk perfect wife. I think…after a while she could only worry about herself. Maybe I was like some buffer, some free zone for her. Like throwing a Christian to the lions. ”
Whit barked out a laugh, startling the other two—“Sometimes—sometimes I don’t go home. I used to do it to see if they noticed, now I do it cause I know they don’t give a shit. Except when he’s drunk and gets a hair up his butt, and comes looking for me. I try to stay hidden. It can be—pretty bad-- when he finds me. Sometimes I wonder if he even thinks of me as his kid…” Whitney’s voice trailed off softly and Lex took a big gulp of his soda, and Clark’s green eyes were filled with pain, and his hands twisted together.
“See? And now you’re all upset. That’s why I never said anything to you about this….”
“But that’s why you talk to Red, because he really knows, doesn’t he. It’s something that you guys know, that none of us know what it’s like, to be afraid like that.” Clark stared into his lap as he spoke, as though he were talking to himself, and then focused on Lex. “You should have told me Red. We’re almost brothers. We’re supposed to share,” he looked sadly into Lex’s eyes, and Lex said, “Clark, we cut our thumbs and bled on each other when we were kids,” and a fleeting memory too dim to catch ran through his mind, something was off that day—what? “It doesn’t really make us brothers--”
“Yes, yes it does, if you believe it does. Didn’t you? I did.” Clark was obviously hurt. There was that thing again, that weird Clark, ‘it’s all about me, but it’s about you too’ thing.
Lex looked at Whitney, and sighed. Whit let a ghost of a smile appear on his lips. “Clark,” Lex tried again, “You don’t know how important you are to me, ok? Sometimes, you were the only thing that made me feel like I had a chance, like if Clark Kent thinks I’m worth it than I am worth it.”
Clark looked at Lex in puzzlement. “Worth what? What do you have to be worth it for?”
“Life, Clark. Living. Taking up space on the planet.”
Whiney snorted softly and nodded his head a bit, and Clark felt a little flare in his gut. There they go again. Lex speaks and Whitney hears him, and more annoying, he understands him.
Just like that, and I don’t and I’m his brother.
More, more, more coming up!
The first parts of the story are here, staring at you and wondering if you're edible
Lex had been disappointed to find out that the fort in the woods was no longer used, but he was getting used to the fortress, as they called the top floor of the barn on the Kent property.
It was pretty cool, especially since a few weeks past, the Kent’s had let Clark have some old furniture, including a couch, which was a blessing for Whit, it gave him a more comfortable, safe place to sleep. Lex was pretty sure from watching the Kent’s faces when they chatted with Whit that they knew darn well that he slept there a lot now.Pretty darn sure, especially since the little dorm room fridge had suddenly appeared in the loft.
Clark knew for sure, and knew the reason why. Lex had known that Clark would figure it out eventually, and Whitney was just finally going to have to talk to him.
It was a gray day, chilly for July and wet, the on and off rain pattering over the barn roof, the kind of day that was good for sitting around, reading comics, or the secret stash of soft-core porn magazines hidden under the pile of comics in the box. They were doing just that, sitting around the fortress, reading and killing time till Pete got back from some family function in Metropolis, and out of the blue, Clark began questioning Whitney about his dad, tentative, gentle probing but Whit was Whit, and Lex froze, waiting for the boy to explode. Instead he blew his too long bangs off his fore head and just sighed.
“Clark, you don’t really want to know about this stuff—it’s not something you’ll ever have to deal with ok? I know what I’m doing, and I know how to handle it. Besides, it’s not like you can help anyway.” He slumped a little lower down the side of the couch, and spread his legs out on the floor. He folded his arms over his chest and he looked so much like fifth grader Whitney that Lex’s heart ached for him.
Clark sat up on the rough floorboards and shook Whit’s ankle. “ Whitney, don’t I know a lot all ready, don’t you think I’ve got a lot figured out?” Lex’s eyes shot towards Whitney. What? What did Clark know?
“ See, Whit, that’s why he can get away with it, you never say anything. You act like it’s your fault, and it’s not!”
“Fucking yeah, it’s not my fault,” Whit spat angrily. “He’s a dick, that’s the problem. He’s a stupid motherfucker and I wish he were dead!” Whit was so angry that his face was red, and his eyes shimmered with tears—neither one of the boys were foolish enough to think they were tears of unhappiness or sorrow, they were tears of pure frustration, of wanting to kill so bad, and not being able to do a thing about it, of years of being beaten and bent into some twisted new form--
Lex reached down from his seat on the couch and looped his arm around Whitney’s head. Whitney leaned his forehead on Lex’s arm and sobbed once, quickly, before sitting up again and staring dry-eyed into something only he could see. He leaned away from Lex and pulled in his legs. Sitting cross-legged, his elbows planted on his knees, he began to talk.
“Everything was fine, you know, normal I guess, until fifth grade, and then things… changed, my dad—he drinks a lot. Mom too, I can’t blame her though, it’s kinda scary when you never know what’s going to happen day by day. The worse he got, the more she tried to make things better, make him happy, and I just kind off dropped off the map. She’s going nuts, spending all her time trying to keep *him* from going nuts. That’s Mom’s thing, being a perfectly drunk perfect wife. I think…after a while she could only worry about herself. Maybe I was like some buffer, some free zone for her. Like throwing a Christian to the lions. ”
Whit barked out a laugh, startling the other two—“Sometimes—sometimes I don’t go home. I used to do it to see if they noticed, now I do it cause I know they don’t give a shit. Except when he’s drunk and gets a hair up his butt, and comes looking for me. I try to stay hidden. It can be—pretty bad-- when he finds me. Sometimes I wonder if he even thinks of me as his kid…” Whitney’s voice trailed off softly and Lex took a big gulp of his soda, and Clark’s green eyes were filled with pain, and his hands twisted together.
“See? And now you’re all upset. That’s why I never said anything to you about this….”
“But that’s why you talk to Red, because he really knows, doesn’t he. It’s something that you guys know, that none of us know what it’s like, to be afraid like that.” Clark stared into his lap as he spoke, as though he were talking to himself, and then focused on Lex. “You should have told me Red. We’re almost brothers. We’re supposed to share,” he looked sadly into Lex’s eyes, and Lex said, “Clark, we cut our thumbs and bled on each other when we were kids,” and a fleeting memory too dim to catch ran through his mind, something was off that day—what? “It doesn’t really make us brothers--”
“Yes, yes it does, if you believe it does. Didn’t you? I did.” Clark was obviously hurt. There was that thing again, that weird Clark, ‘it’s all about me, but it’s about you too’ thing.
Lex looked at Whitney, and sighed. Whit let a ghost of a smile appear on his lips. “Clark,” Lex tried again, “You don’t know how important you are to me, ok? Sometimes, you were the only thing that made me feel like I had a chance, like if Clark Kent thinks I’m worth it than I am worth it.”
Clark looked at Lex in puzzlement. “Worth what? What do you have to be worth it for?”
“Life, Clark. Living. Taking up space on the planet.”
Whiney snorted softly and nodded his head a bit, and Clark felt a little flare in his gut. There they go again. Lex speaks and Whitney hears him, and more annoying, he understands him.
Just like that, and I don’t and I’m his brother.
More, more, more coming up!
(no subject)
10/12/04 11:55 pm (UTC)That's my brave boy, ready to tackle any challenge. *cuddles*
I also like how Lex and Whit interpret for each other with Clark. They clearly don't want to exclude him, they just can't always speak for themselves. *cuddles them, too*
I'm kind of shocked that Martha and Jonathon haven't confronted Whitney's dad or something if they know. They've never come across as the mind-yer-own-bidness type. Well, at least about stuff that isn't their business. *g* Also, I think if they knew, they'd make Whit come into the house. Just, a feeling, of course.
*hugs you*
This story makes me so happy. *G*
(no subject)
10/13/04 12:11 am (UTC)I think you're kind of worried about the Kents lack of involvment--
I was going to answer you here, but I'll send an E-mail, so as not to bore every one! But I would be curious to hear how many people want the Kents involved in this.
(no subject)
10/13/04 03:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/13/04 03:52 am (UTC)