![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fic
And here we are at the end of Chapter Four, and this time, I'm carrying it over into the next chapter. Just because.
I had a lot more to say this Summer so we'll probably hit a bit of the school year too, though my main focus has been on the summers between.
The next chapter is probably a bit different then what's gone on before.Anyway, before I talk too much about the next one, we should wrap up this one, yes?
all the previous parts for Chapter Four are here, hanging off your balcony mooning people and screaming out your phone number.
Clark asked Whit to drop him off at the end of the drive and thanked him distractedly. Whit asked if he was okay and he assured him he was and sent him home.
He trudged up the drive, a thousand thoughts on his mind. He needed someone to help him sort all this out and he could only think of one person to help him do it.
“Dad?”
Jonathan looked up from the assortment of garden tools he was cleaning and reached for a rag to wipe oil from his hands.
“Hey, son. Just cleaning this stuff for your mom. She's happy when I do this for her and when she’s happy it usually involves chocolate cake, not that I wouldn’t do it just to make her happy…hand me that file will you?” he smiled at Clark.
Clark handed his dad the big metal file, sat on a bench and watched him knock rust off the edge of a garden spade.
“Dad, I need some help. I need to talk about…something that happened tonight, something awful.”
Jonathan looked up sharply at that.“Are you okay, Clark? What happened?”
Clark stared at his hands and tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “Dad. This alien thing,” he began ignoring his dad’s wince. “I…the running, the strength, I think it’s not the only power I have…tonight—tonight I set the movies on fire--”
“What! Clark, what do you mean—how?” Jonathan looked alarmed and came to sit next to him.
“Clark, how—why—what happened exactly son? Start from the beginning.”
“Dad, I noticed before at …certain times my eyes felt…weird. Weird and hot and it happened tonight at the movies and this time it didn’t get better, it got worse and suddenly-- I shot fire out of my eyes! Dad, I shot fire out of my *eyes*!”
Clark covered his face and shook. Jonathan pulled him close and held his head the way he had when Clark was small. It helped. It helped a lot.
“Clark? My guess? Things like this are are going to happen. You’re getting older and you’re changing and we don’t know what changes you’re going to go through. You got stronger and faster and healthier as you got older. We’ve got to expect some changes are going to be dramatic.”
Clark sighed and sat up again. “Yeah. It was pretty dramatic all right.” He sighed again and stiffened at his dad’s next question.
“Son, did…did anyone see you?”
Clark didn’t know why that question made him a little angry, a little disappointed in his dad, but he answered him with no outward sign of his feeling. “No dad, no one saw. I accidentally knocked Whit silly when I jumped out of my seat so he didn’t see anything either.”
He was silent for a moment and then made a decision. He had too much to hide—he couldn’t didn’t want to take on any more secrets.
“Dad? I have something else to tell you. The certain times I was talking about? Well…whenever I felt…ah… turned on? It happened.”
Jonathan looked surprise and uncomfortable.
“Ah. I--I see. So, when you’re ah—‘turned on’ then. Okay. And at the movies—you met someone there?” he asked and Clark thought he had a very hopeful look on his face, a slight, very slight edge of pleading to his tone.
“No dad,” he replied, and looked steadily into his eyes. “I went with Whit. I didn’t meet anyone. Whit and I went together, sat together.”
Jonathan stood and paced back and forth, moving his hands from his hair to his neck to his hips to his back until he suddenly seemed to realize that his son was waiting for some sign of – something.He stopped and looked at the far wall of the barn,rubbing his hand across his mouth.
“Dad? Dad, I need you to understand what I’m telling you. I need…” I need you to keep loving me.
“Clark. You have to work on controlling this new power of yours.” He picked up the spade and stabbed it into a bucket of oily sand and stood staring down at it.
Clark stood also. Okay. He had his answer. Fine. He wasn’t going to lie. It was on the table and his dad could do with it what he wanted.
“I’m going to talk to mom,” he said and moved slowly to the doors. He passed his dad, and his heart hurt when he didn’t lift his head to look at him.
He was at the doors when his dad called out. "Clark. Wait.”
He turned to look at his dad.
“I like Whit,” He stopped and it seemed as if he wanted to say more, the ghost of a frown floated over his face. “Talk to your mom and later we can go out to the field, maybe see about working on your control.”
He grinned at his dad. “That’d be great, Dad. Great.”
Before he could leave his dad asked,” Clark, do you need Whit to be there?”
“For what—Dad!” Clark turned bright red and ducked his head as warmth flooded him.Teasing. He was teasing him. It was going to be okay. His dad was going to be cool—everything was going to be okay between them.
They grinned at each other.
”It’s one of the perks of being a parent, Clark. You get to embarrass your kids from time to time.” Jonathan turned his attention back to his work, still faintly smiling and Clark walked out into the sunlight yard.
**********************
Whit walked across the street, intent on the comic store and not much else on his mind. Clark had asked him to pick up the currant books that were out.
And a Warrior Angel for Red.
He felt pretty good at the moment. He’d backed out of this thing with Clark…okay, still backing out, but at least Clark seemed to be coming around to the idea that Red really did care for him. And Red was beginning to see that Clark liked him too.
Whit snorted. He felt like a matchmaker. His forehead wrinkled a bit as he mused that matchmakers generally didn’t screw their clients. He shook his hair off his sticky forehead and sighed.
Friggin’ summer. Shit. He hated it when it was so hot…he should just go home. He bet that Abigail had some lemonade; maybe she went to the bakery after work, that’d be great. As long as she hadn’t baked herself. Man. He smirked to himself. Oh yeah, that’d be a bad thing, all right.
A car screeched up the road towards him and he leaped back onto the curb. Who the fuck…
Loud laughter rolled out of the open car window and a bottle flew out and shattered on the street in front of him. Assholes, he thought.
Yeah, last year, he’d have been in that car. He thought about flipping the jerks off when the car swerved with a screech of tires to the curb, and a guy hung out the window, half of his body out of the window, flailing his arms around and screaming his name over and over,” Come here you little shit!”
It was Danny, someone he knew through Wade. The guy wasn’t going to let up, that was for certain, so he slowly sauntered over and tried to look bored. ”Yeah? What’s up?”
“You heard from Wade? “ Danny grinned at Whit, a nasty knowing look.
“No.” Fuckface. “I haven’t, so what?” Whit sneered at the guy and started to walk away. What a pack of morons. He could hear them giggling and laughing, and then Danny yelled out. “He’s watching you!”
“Faggot!” he heard him yell,and more laughter. Whit turned and grabbed his crotch with one hand and flipped them off with the other, and yelled, “Eat me!”
The guys tried to get out of the car, but they were too high, and kept getting in each other’s way.
Whit yelled out again, “Hey, Dann-eeeeee! Your mother sucks, and not as good as your dad!”
He burst out laughing at the scream of outrage that boiled out of the car, and sprinted for the comic store, laughing all the way, he glanced behind him and saw that Danny was out, and trying to run after him but the other guys were hanging off him, keeping him back.
That’s right, motherfuckers Whit thought. You never know when Wade might come back.
Whit grinned and turned to go into the store.
“Hello, Whitney.”
11-7-04
I had a lot more to say this Summer so we'll probably hit a bit of the school year too, though my main focus has been on the summers between.
The next chapter is probably a bit different then what's gone on before.Anyway, before I talk too much about the next one, we should wrap up this one, yes?
all the previous parts for Chapter Four are here, hanging off your balcony mooning people and screaming out your phone number.
Clark asked Whit to drop him off at the end of the drive and thanked him distractedly. Whit asked if he was okay and he assured him he was and sent him home.
He trudged up the drive, a thousand thoughts on his mind. He needed someone to help him sort all this out and he could only think of one person to help him do it.
“Dad?”
Jonathan looked up from the assortment of garden tools he was cleaning and reached for a rag to wipe oil from his hands.
“Hey, son. Just cleaning this stuff for your mom. She's happy when I do this for her and when she’s happy it usually involves chocolate cake, not that I wouldn’t do it just to make her happy…hand me that file will you?” he smiled at Clark.
Clark handed his dad the big metal file, sat on a bench and watched him knock rust off the edge of a garden spade.
“Dad, I need some help. I need to talk about…something that happened tonight, something awful.”
Jonathan looked up sharply at that.“Are you okay, Clark? What happened?”
Clark stared at his hands and tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “Dad. This alien thing,” he began ignoring his dad’s wince. “I…the running, the strength, I think it’s not the only power I have…tonight—tonight I set the movies on fire--”
“What! Clark, what do you mean—how?” Jonathan looked alarmed and came to sit next to him.
“Clark, how—why—what happened exactly son? Start from the beginning.”
“Dad, I noticed before at …certain times my eyes felt…weird. Weird and hot and it happened tonight at the movies and this time it didn’t get better, it got worse and suddenly-- I shot fire out of my eyes! Dad, I shot fire out of my *eyes*!”
Clark covered his face and shook. Jonathan pulled him close and held his head the way he had when Clark was small. It helped. It helped a lot.
“Clark? My guess? Things like this are are going to happen. You’re getting older and you’re changing and we don’t know what changes you’re going to go through. You got stronger and faster and healthier as you got older. We’ve got to expect some changes are going to be dramatic.”
Clark sighed and sat up again. “Yeah. It was pretty dramatic all right.” He sighed again and stiffened at his dad’s next question.
“Son, did…did anyone see you?”
Clark didn’t know why that question made him a little angry, a little disappointed in his dad, but he answered him with no outward sign of his feeling. “No dad, no one saw. I accidentally knocked Whit silly when I jumped out of my seat so he didn’t see anything either.”
He was silent for a moment and then made a decision. He had too much to hide—he couldn’t didn’t want to take on any more secrets.
“Dad? I have something else to tell you. The certain times I was talking about? Well…whenever I felt…ah… turned on? It happened.”
Jonathan looked surprise and uncomfortable.
“Ah. I--I see. So, when you’re ah—‘turned on’ then. Okay. And at the movies—you met someone there?” he asked and Clark thought he had a very hopeful look on his face, a slight, very slight edge of pleading to his tone.
“No dad,” he replied, and looked steadily into his eyes. “I went with Whit. I didn’t meet anyone. Whit and I went together, sat together.”
Jonathan stood and paced back and forth, moving his hands from his hair to his neck to his hips to his back until he suddenly seemed to realize that his son was waiting for some sign of – something.He stopped and looked at the far wall of the barn,rubbing his hand across his mouth.
“Dad? Dad, I need you to understand what I’m telling you. I need…” I need you to keep loving me.
“Clark. You have to work on controlling this new power of yours.” He picked up the spade and stabbed it into a bucket of oily sand and stood staring down at it.
Clark stood also. Okay. He had his answer. Fine. He wasn’t going to lie. It was on the table and his dad could do with it what he wanted.
“I’m going to talk to mom,” he said and moved slowly to the doors. He passed his dad, and his heart hurt when he didn’t lift his head to look at him.
He was at the doors when his dad called out. "Clark. Wait.”
He turned to look at his dad.
“I like Whit,” He stopped and it seemed as if he wanted to say more, the ghost of a frown floated over his face. “Talk to your mom and later we can go out to the field, maybe see about working on your control.”
He grinned at his dad. “That’d be great, Dad. Great.”
Before he could leave his dad asked,” Clark, do you need Whit to be there?”
“For what—Dad!” Clark turned bright red and ducked his head as warmth flooded him.Teasing. He was teasing him. It was going to be okay. His dad was going to be cool—everything was going to be okay between them.
They grinned at each other.
”It’s one of the perks of being a parent, Clark. You get to embarrass your kids from time to time.” Jonathan turned his attention back to his work, still faintly smiling and Clark walked out into the sunlight yard.
**********************
Whit walked across the street, intent on the comic store and not much else on his mind. Clark had asked him to pick up the currant books that were out.
And a Warrior Angel for Red.
He felt pretty good at the moment. He’d backed out of this thing with Clark…okay, still backing out, but at least Clark seemed to be coming around to the idea that Red really did care for him. And Red was beginning to see that Clark liked him too.
Whit snorted. He felt like a matchmaker. His forehead wrinkled a bit as he mused that matchmakers generally didn’t screw their clients. He shook his hair off his sticky forehead and sighed.
Friggin’ summer. Shit. He hated it when it was so hot…he should just go home. He bet that Abigail had some lemonade; maybe she went to the bakery after work, that’d be great. As long as she hadn’t baked herself. Man. He smirked to himself. Oh yeah, that’d be a bad thing, all right.
A car screeched up the road towards him and he leaped back onto the curb. Who the fuck…
Loud laughter rolled out of the open car window and a bottle flew out and shattered on the street in front of him. Assholes, he thought.
Yeah, last year, he’d have been in that car. He thought about flipping the jerks off when the car swerved with a screech of tires to the curb, and a guy hung out the window, half of his body out of the window, flailing his arms around and screaming his name over and over,” Come here you little shit!”
It was Danny, someone he knew through Wade. The guy wasn’t going to let up, that was for certain, so he slowly sauntered over and tried to look bored. ”Yeah? What’s up?”
“You heard from Wade? “ Danny grinned at Whit, a nasty knowing look.
“No.” Fuckface. “I haven’t, so what?” Whit sneered at the guy and started to walk away. What a pack of morons. He could hear them giggling and laughing, and then Danny yelled out. “He’s watching you!”
“Faggot!” he heard him yell,and more laughter. Whit turned and grabbed his crotch with one hand and flipped them off with the other, and yelled, “Eat me!”
The guys tried to get out of the car, but they were too high, and kept getting in each other’s way.
Whit yelled out again, “Hey, Dann-eeeeee! Your mother sucks, and not as good as your dad!”
He burst out laughing at the scream of outrage that boiled out of the car, and sprinted for the comic store, laughing all the way, he glanced behind him and saw that Danny was out, and trying to run after him but the other guys were hanging off him, keeping him back.
That’s right, motherfuckers Whit thought. You never know when Wade might come back.
Whit grinned and turned to go into the store.
“Hello, Whitney.”
11-7-04
no subject
More!!!!!
Gah!
no subject
Ooo, more!
*hugs*
Re: Ooo, more!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And dude, I love Jonathan! Yay!
no subject
Indeed! Stay tuned for the next chapter of "What The..."!
And dude, I love Jonathan! Yay!
Oh, thank goodness, I had a hard time with him.He's part of my mission to rewrite all the characters I don't like! *G*
no subject
You're doing a great job!
no subject
Awwwwwwwwww!
Dad!Kent being all cool and stuff!
yay!
And Whit's in trouble now, isn't he.
Ack!
*hugs*
Love this!!
no subject
no subject
no subject
Hey, but maybe someone will call?
---
Yay, Jonathon!! I liked the little moment he took to adjust to what Clark was telling him. Of course, I'd have tortured Clark a little more in the telling, but I also like the way Clark decided to tell his dad about his feeling for Whit. *sniff* He's growing up!!
But Whit!! Who the hell did he run into? Ack! You are a bad, bad woman to leave us hanging like this!!! Plus he's probably going to get his ass kicked, and then have to go home to the Rosses and get his ass kicked again (in a much more loving way)! RooooxxxxyyY!! Heeeelp!!
no subject