Summer Story part 7
12/17/04 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThis was the hardest, hardest bit to write for me. I cried tears of blood, my darlings. But Mizz Roxy, I hear you ask, are you not like the dime store novelist, pounding out words like popcorn and with about as much thought? And I answer, go get me a switch.
Martha, Martha. in the right hands, you're a wonderful woman, full of depthy depths and sparkling wisdom and warm mother's heart. In my hands, you're a cliched, overprotective, emasculating bitch. So what do we do? We cut, cut , cut! and even through the tears of blood, it was kind of fun. Okay, okay! -- crazee, but you knew that coming in.
Anyhoo, the Previous Parts are here, snorting Bon Ami, because, *whispers* kind of stupid.
Summer Story
In true Smallville fashion nothing came of the kidnapping. Lionel’s cleaners made sure the scene reflected nothing of what had happened there. Nothing was left –just an empty loft with no sign of anyone ever having lived there. Everything was wiped clean, turned to dust, lives that never were. Lionel disappeared them all to non-existence.
In the end, Lionel’s biggest regret was that he couldn’t bring Horst back to life and kill him again. Defeated by a bunch of children. How the fuck was that possible? He brooded and scowled for days after. All that money, all that time. How could Horst have failed? He fired the rest of the team and wasted more money assembling an efficient, better-trained team. The episode saved him money and cost him money.
Lex walked past the study and he glared at him. Ungrateful--simply ungrateful. And he was sure that Lex was hiding something from him.
“Lex,” he called out—no response but George appeared in the doorway. Looking at him, Lionel felt some small measure of satisfaction when he took in the split lip and swollen eye.
It didn’t matter that there was nothing on any camera on the property, no sign of break in—he really didn’t care that George could have done nothing to prevent the event. It gave him satisfaction. It had just been George’s turn. And now….
“George, send Lex to me please.”
George nodded and dipped his head before turning away. George walked the hall, with ‘bastard, bastard, bastard’ ringing in his mind with each step. He licked his lip and grimaced at the metallic taste. That shouldn’t have been his pain. It wasn’t right. And now that this whole thing was over and put to rest, he should be treated better and he wasn’t. Sir was still angry.
He knocked sharply on Lex’s door. Brat. “Your father wishes to see you, Lex.” Maybe everything would even out after Lionel met with Lex. He hoped so, he wasn’t sure he could take much more.
**********************
Clark lay on the loft floor and sighed, watching dust motes dance in the breeze he made. He was out of sorts and frustrated and disappointed. He hadn’t spoken to Lex since after they’d made it home, he’d been whisked away and not heard a word came from him since.
And it wasn’t just Lex--Whit hadn’t returned any of his calls. He locked himself in his room and according to Pete wouldn’t come out, and Pete was frantic, and since they’d told him what happened, he was afraid for Whit. He told Clark he was trying to run interference for Whit with his folks, but sooner or later…Clark groaned. They were going to have to come up with a plausible reason why Whit was in an enormous tailspin. Crap.
Clark could understand why the guy was falling apart, he’d lost everything he’d ever had, his home—such as it was, his dad, mom, the team, —any chance he might have had at a scholarship thanks to that ass-hole Wade dragging him out of school whenever he wanted him---Clark winced a little in guilt, the vision of Wade broken on the ground making him shiver.
The only thing Whit had ever really had that was any good was the Ross family and thank god for that at least. Clark sighed. Yeah, the Ross’ and that jerk Wade.
He’d never been sure if Whit really loved Wade or not, but even so he’d been with him so long, been through so much shit with him and that had to be something like love….
A little rush of sorrow for Whit swept over him. Clark blinked hard. He didn’t regret telling Whit that Wade said he loved him--and any way, he was pretty certain that’s what Wade had meant at the end. What did it hurt to let Whit think that….
He scraped idly at the floor, absent mindedly peeling thin strips from the wooden floorboards, and pulling them apart in his fingers. Lex hadn’t called, hadn’t spoken to Pete. Clark worried his thumb, chewing away in thought. No word, no note, nothing--and he was pretty sure he knew why, and this time no amount of blinking kept a hot tear from rolling down into his ear.
He sighed again, his breath catching in his throat and wished he’d never shown Lex he wasn’t normal—not human. But then again--Clark turned to his side and pillowed his head on his arm—then again, if he had been just human, Lex would be dead now. His beautiful Lex would be still and cold and never feel anything again—and he knew, no matter the consequence, he’d do it over again and over again, forever if he had to. He’d rather lose Lex than let him die. He’d rather die himself before letting harm come to Lex.
Footsteps creaked on the wooden stair and for a second he was thrilled and then his mother’s voice called for him.
He couldn’t mask the disappointment he felt and his mom looked so understanding that his stomach clenched.
“Clark.”
“Mom,” he started and grit his teeth to keep from embarrassing himself. He was *not* going to cry in front of his mom. He was too damn old for that-- please don’t let her touch him….
She stood at the top of the stair looking at him and he had a flash of what he must look like, laying on the floor, red-eyed and clutching a pillow to his chest like a big girl, and –and-- oh. He realized he was surrounded by a ring of pulverized floorboards. Crap, guess I’ll be sanding the floor. Again.
“Did you and Lex have a fight?” She looked so concerned that he found himself nodding “Yeah, kind of. Mom…” He stopped, took a deep breath, hoped to god she’d understand and began again. “Mom…Lex knows. Kind of.”
She gasped and looked shocked but Clark had to give her credit, she recovered quickly. ”Okay. Okay, Clark. We knew there’d come a time you’d need to tell someone-- some day….” She almost managed to keep her voice from cracking, but her fingers were wound tightly together.
“I haven’t actually told him anything in words yet. He kind of saw--- something,” he finished weakly. No way was he telling his parents everything that happened. He couldn’t, they’d be furious with him—and he guessed, rightly so….
“I think maybe he didn’t react to it well. Actually I have no idea, because he hasn’t talked to me since he saw—the thing. He saw. When he saw it.” Clark made a conscious effort to stop his mouth from moving and blurting out words and finally looked his mother in the face.
She was ghost white and her mouth was open in horror and Clark felt a hot burst of anger.
“He’s not going to say anything, Mom,” he almost shouted. “He’s Lex. I mean, if anyone knows how to keep a secret, it’s Lex. Shit.” He knew his expression had gone from angry teen to put out little kid, and it made him even angrier, but it seemed to help his mother regain control, and she even did that frown thing that tried not to be a smile, just a little and Clark blushed. I did not just say shit in front of Mom. Oh god.
“Clark,” she said quietly, and he blushed more. “Its okay, she continued.” I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m truly sorry that you’ve both had to carry so much, so young for such heavy burdens, and Lex must have been confused by what he saw, and what you said--"
Clark coughed, looked aside and impossibly, flushed a bit more.
“Hon, do you have any idea how he feels about it? Have you tried explaining to him how *you* feel?” She shook her head and went on, “Clark—you didn’t say anything to him at all?”
Clark stutterd, “Well, I’m trying to give him space to make up his own mind about all this.”
“Oh! I see. In other words, you haven’t even *tried* to talk to him. Clark, sweetie—one word…Idiot.” Clark looked at his mother in shock.
“Yes, that would be you dear. Unless he asked you to give him space, he’s probably doing the same thing you are--sitting alone and cry—feeling sad. You know he can be kind of stubborn when his feelings are hurt.”
Clark looked somewhat hopeful. "Maybe I should call him—go see him, talk to him?”
Martha smiled. “You should go now”
“Mom, about the telling thing--”
“We can talk about that later, Clark.”
Martha watched her son burst out through the barn doors eager to get to Lex. Those were two stubborn boys, she thought to herself. They were alike in so many ways—eager to help friends, faithful to a fault, so easily hurt. Both of them had so much to offer the world, she knew. Both of them were so intense, but Lex worried her sometimes. He seemed always to be on the edge of—of something. He was an altogether charming, endearing kid, a loving kid, but deep inside, he had a little core of ice that not even Clark seemed to be able to thaw.
She frowned. Lionel had a lot to do about that. No, he had everything to do about that. That coldness wasn’t natural to him. it was learned –taught to him by that miserable excuse for a human being. Lionel Luthor was a cold, bitter and evil man. Not the man that should be raising a sensitive person like Lex by any stretch of the imagination. She made her mind up that if she and Jonathan needed to interfere, they would. That old bastard would find out Lex wasn’t alone, not by far.
TBC-- Roxy does victory lap of not a sucky Martha...next time-- Lionel! Oooh Scareeeee! *three-d camera effect*
Martha, Martha. in the right hands, you're a wonderful woman, full of depthy depths and sparkling wisdom and warm mother's heart. In my hands, you're a cliched, overprotective, emasculating bitch. So what do we do? We cut, cut , cut! and even through the tears of blood, it was kind of fun. Okay, okay! -- crazee, but you knew that coming in.
Anyhoo, the Previous Parts are here, snorting Bon Ami, because, *whispers* kind of stupid.
Summer Story
In true Smallville fashion nothing came of the kidnapping. Lionel’s cleaners made sure the scene reflected nothing of what had happened there. Nothing was left –just an empty loft with no sign of anyone ever having lived there. Everything was wiped clean, turned to dust, lives that never were. Lionel disappeared them all to non-existence.
In the end, Lionel’s biggest regret was that he couldn’t bring Horst back to life and kill him again. Defeated by a bunch of children. How the fuck was that possible? He brooded and scowled for days after. All that money, all that time. How could Horst have failed? He fired the rest of the team and wasted more money assembling an efficient, better-trained team. The episode saved him money and cost him money.
Lex walked past the study and he glared at him. Ungrateful--simply ungrateful. And he was sure that Lex was hiding something from him.
“Lex,” he called out—no response but George appeared in the doorway. Looking at him, Lionel felt some small measure of satisfaction when he took in the split lip and swollen eye.
It didn’t matter that there was nothing on any camera on the property, no sign of break in—he really didn’t care that George could have done nothing to prevent the event. It gave him satisfaction. It had just been George’s turn. And now….
“George, send Lex to me please.”
George nodded and dipped his head before turning away. George walked the hall, with ‘bastard, bastard, bastard’ ringing in his mind with each step. He licked his lip and grimaced at the metallic taste. That shouldn’t have been his pain. It wasn’t right. And now that this whole thing was over and put to rest, he should be treated better and he wasn’t. Sir was still angry.
He knocked sharply on Lex’s door. Brat. “Your father wishes to see you, Lex.” Maybe everything would even out after Lionel met with Lex. He hoped so, he wasn’t sure he could take much more.
**********************
Clark lay on the loft floor and sighed, watching dust motes dance in the breeze he made. He was out of sorts and frustrated and disappointed. He hadn’t spoken to Lex since after they’d made it home, he’d been whisked away and not heard a word came from him since.
And it wasn’t just Lex--Whit hadn’t returned any of his calls. He locked himself in his room and according to Pete wouldn’t come out, and Pete was frantic, and since they’d told him what happened, he was afraid for Whit. He told Clark he was trying to run interference for Whit with his folks, but sooner or later…Clark groaned. They were going to have to come up with a plausible reason why Whit was in an enormous tailspin. Crap.
Clark could understand why the guy was falling apart, he’d lost everything he’d ever had, his home—such as it was, his dad, mom, the team, —any chance he might have had at a scholarship thanks to that ass-hole Wade dragging him out of school whenever he wanted him---Clark winced a little in guilt, the vision of Wade broken on the ground making him shiver.
The only thing Whit had ever really had that was any good was the Ross family and thank god for that at least. Clark sighed. Yeah, the Ross’ and that jerk Wade.
He’d never been sure if Whit really loved Wade or not, but even so he’d been with him so long, been through so much shit with him and that had to be something like love….
A little rush of sorrow for Whit swept over him. Clark blinked hard. He didn’t regret telling Whit that Wade said he loved him--and any way, he was pretty certain that’s what Wade had meant at the end. What did it hurt to let Whit think that….
He scraped idly at the floor, absent mindedly peeling thin strips from the wooden floorboards, and pulling them apart in his fingers. Lex hadn’t called, hadn’t spoken to Pete. Clark worried his thumb, chewing away in thought. No word, no note, nothing--and he was pretty sure he knew why, and this time no amount of blinking kept a hot tear from rolling down into his ear.
He sighed again, his breath catching in his throat and wished he’d never shown Lex he wasn’t normal—not human. But then again--Clark turned to his side and pillowed his head on his arm—then again, if he had been just human, Lex would be dead now. His beautiful Lex would be still and cold and never feel anything again—and he knew, no matter the consequence, he’d do it over again and over again, forever if he had to. He’d rather lose Lex than let him die. He’d rather die himself before letting harm come to Lex.
Footsteps creaked on the wooden stair and for a second he was thrilled and then his mother’s voice called for him.
He couldn’t mask the disappointment he felt and his mom looked so understanding that his stomach clenched.
“Clark.”
“Mom,” he started and grit his teeth to keep from embarrassing himself. He was *not* going to cry in front of his mom. He was too damn old for that-- please don’t let her touch him….
She stood at the top of the stair looking at him and he had a flash of what he must look like, laying on the floor, red-eyed and clutching a pillow to his chest like a big girl, and –and-- oh. He realized he was surrounded by a ring of pulverized floorboards. Crap, guess I’ll be sanding the floor. Again.
“Did you and Lex have a fight?” She looked so concerned that he found himself nodding “Yeah, kind of. Mom…” He stopped, took a deep breath, hoped to god she’d understand and began again. “Mom…Lex knows. Kind of.”
She gasped and looked shocked but Clark had to give her credit, she recovered quickly. ”Okay. Okay, Clark. We knew there’d come a time you’d need to tell someone-- some day….” She almost managed to keep her voice from cracking, but her fingers were wound tightly together.
“I haven’t actually told him anything in words yet. He kind of saw--- something,” he finished weakly. No way was he telling his parents everything that happened. He couldn’t, they’d be furious with him—and he guessed, rightly so….
“I think maybe he didn’t react to it well. Actually I have no idea, because he hasn’t talked to me since he saw—the thing. He saw. When he saw it.” Clark made a conscious effort to stop his mouth from moving and blurting out words and finally looked his mother in the face.
She was ghost white and her mouth was open in horror and Clark felt a hot burst of anger.
“He’s not going to say anything, Mom,” he almost shouted. “He’s Lex. I mean, if anyone knows how to keep a secret, it’s Lex. Shit.” He knew his expression had gone from angry teen to put out little kid, and it made him even angrier, but it seemed to help his mother regain control, and she even did that frown thing that tried not to be a smile, just a little and Clark blushed. I did not just say shit in front of Mom. Oh god.
“Clark,” she said quietly, and he blushed more. “Its okay, she continued.” I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m truly sorry that you’ve both had to carry so much, so young for such heavy burdens, and Lex must have been confused by what he saw, and what you said--"
Clark coughed, looked aside and impossibly, flushed a bit more.
“Hon, do you have any idea how he feels about it? Have you tried explaining to him how *you* feel?” She shook her head and went on, “Clark—you didn’t say anything to him at all?”
Clark stutterd, “Well, I’m trying to give him space to make up his own mind about all this.”
“Oh! I see. In other words, you haven’t even *tried* to talk to him. Clark, sweetie—one word…Idiot.” Clark looked at his mother in shock.
“Yes, that would be you dear. Unless he asked you to give him space, he’s probably doing the same thing you are--sitting alone and cry—feeling sad. You know he can be kind of stubborn when his feelings are hurt.”
Clark looked somewhat hopeful. "Maybe I should call him—go see him, talk to him?”
Martha smiled. “You should go now”
“Mom, about the telling thing--”
“We can talk about that later, Clark.”
Martha watched her son burst out through the barn doors eager to get to Lex. Those were two stubborn boys, she thought to herself. They were alike in so many ways—eager to help friends, faithful to a fault, so easily hurt. Both of them had so much to offer the world, she knew. Both of them were so intense, but Lex worried her sometimes. He seemed always to be on the edge of—of something. He was an altogether charming, endearing kid, a loving kid, but deep inside, he had a little core of ice that not even Clark seemed to be able to thaw.
She frowned. Lionel had a lot to do about that. No, he had everything to do about that. That coldness wasn’t natural to him. it was learned –taught to him by that miserable excuse for a human being. Lionel Luthor was a cold, bitter and evil man. Not the man that should be raising a sensitive person like Lex by any stretch of the imagination. She made her mind up that if she and Jonathan needed to interfere, they would. That old bastard would find out Lex wasn’t alone, not by far.
TBC-- Roxy does victory lap of not a sucky Martha...next time-- Lionel! Oooh Scareeeee! *three-d camera effect*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
12/18/04 02:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/18/04 03:55 am (UTC)And I just want to beat the crap out of George myself *grrrrr* Can you tell? *snorf*
(no subject)
12/18/04 03:39 am (UTC)I mean.
I'd offer to have your babies if the thought didn't make me want to eviscerate myself with a rusty can opener.
:)
*hugs*
(no subject)
12/18/04 03:53 am (UTC)Oh yeah, check the mail...just sayin'....
(no subject)
12/18/04 04:16 am (UTC)Snailmail you mean??
Wheeeeeee!!!
*bounce*
(no subject)
12/18/04 04:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/18/04 04:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/18/04 04:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/18/04 05:35 am (UTC)Oh, and I HATE George. Quite possibly more than I hate Lionel. He is a contemptible creature.
Leeeexxx! Are you okay, baby? *worries about Lex*
(no subject)
12/18/04 06:30 am (UTC)I'm happy you hate George, I *hate8 him too! The big creep.
(no subject)
12/18/04 12:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
12/18/04 05:03 pm (UTC)and your icon brings tears to my eyes! *laughschucklesnorrfle*
(no subject)
12/19/04 12:44 am (UTC)Wha...? You did a GREAT MArtha!
12/18/04 05:19 pm (UTC)*smites Lionel*
Clarkbar - listen to your mommy - go make up with Lex!
Whit! *weeps*
NO MARINES OR OTHER ARMED FORCES, PLEASE! *crosses fingers that Whit gets to live in this fic and gets Sam*
And yay, Martha - *adopting* Lex! *smooches Mommy*
{{{Huggles Lex just cuz}}}
{{{huggles Roxy always}}}
Re: Wha...? You did a GREAT MArtha!
12/18/04 06:17 pm (UTC)Wow! that's the stuff, right there! I'm grinning from ear to ear.
Yeah thanks on the Martha praise. I figured out how to write her know-- I'll just write all her stuff on paper, and then cut 90% of it--and then cut that in half. lol! You have *no* idea! Only Abi, and god help me if she ever spills the beans!
(no subject)
12/19/04 09:58 pm (UTC)I was wondering where I could read the first part? I clicked on the link and didn't see a listing for the first section.
Thanks!
Btw, hope you don't mind, I added you to my list.:-)
(no subject)
12/19/04 10:23 pm (UTC)Btw, hope you don't mind, I added you to my list.:-)
And goodness, I certainly don't mind at all!
(no subject)
12/20/04 01:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/21/04 07:41 am (UTC)Courtesy of
I feel so behind... I'm trying to catch up on "Summer Story."
(no subject)
12/21/04 07:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/21/04 09:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/22/04 06:18 pm (UTC)I like your reasoning for Clark's fears and why he's avoiding Lex. While I wanted to smack that gorgeous head of his and tell him to go give Lex snuggles after the scary cage--and-dead-people-everywhere-with-guts-and-blood-and-bullets incident, it was so Clark to be paralyzed with his fear of rejection via Lex because of his non-human status.
LOVED the opening Lionel scene. Magnificent, and Lionel was a magnificent bastard while still showing his own fucked up love for his son.
(no subject)
12/22/04 08:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
12/24/04 05:30 pm (UTC)I wish she could do more on the show.
*sigh*