DisPater Jupiter part 14...wow!
10/5/05 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThe Previous Parts are here feeling domestic and dusting…hey! Put some clothes on and leave that feather duster alone—on second thought, throw it away--
Well, more of the story that rewrote itself. I’m just going with the flow now folks. Mind you, I do kind of like it. Next up—I have no idea! Whoo-hoo! It’s like bunjee-jumping only with out the possibility of painful splatty death!
Clark was leaning over the utility sink in the corner of the barn, taking his time washing out the brushes he used to paint the barn.
He’d gotten up early enough that his mom and dad were still sleeping and started painting at mostly human speed, just to clear his mind. He’d managed to force out all thoughts of Lex and just kind of hum along, not thinking. He could hear the cows shuffling about in the sheds, and the movements of mice—and the cats hunting them…he’d concentrated on letting his hearing drop into normal range and just enjoyed the simple movement of brush up and brush down and the slowly warming sun on his back….
He watched the deep red tinted water swirl down the drain and his mind was pleasantly blank. For the moment, he had nothing to think about, nothing needed his attention and he was content.
The sound of footsteps behind him brought him back to the here and now, reluctantly. His pleasant daze was already evaporating…
“Clark?”
“Yes, Mom?” He turned to face her and sighed. Great. She had the same look on her face as last night at dinnertime, that speculative, searching look. No good was coming of that, he thought.
“I’d like to talk to you about Lex.”
“What?” Clark nearly squeaked and glanced down at himself, turned bright red. Was she suddenly psychic? Could she tell that--“Why?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking—he and I have gotten to be pretty good friends lately--”
What? The hell? Friends? “Wait, you’re telling me…you’ve been talking to that guy? He’s—he’s a very bad guy, Mom!”
She had the nerve to roll her eyes at him, and went on. “I know all about your opinions concerning the Luthors, dear, regardless that you haven’t provided cold hard facts--” Clark sputtered, but forced himself to quiet when Martha held her hands up “--but I have a feeling there’s so much more happening there that we just don’t know.”
He scrubbed violently at the brush in his hand and winced when a handful of bristles washed down the drain with the paint. Darn! “I don’t care. I don’t want you talking to him. When I get back to Metropolis—the heck with that—I’m going to go and tell him to keep the hell away from you right now! Sick son-of –a –bitch! Damn it!” The bristle-less brush cracked in his hand and he tossed it down to grab another…forced himself to be gentle.
“Clark! Watch your language!” she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, and hung on tight. “Lex has been unfailingly polite and very kind and...nice, just nice.”
Clark waved his free arm in frustration, “Mom—you don’t understand. He’s a—a mobster, a criminal! And a very, very bad man.”
“Clark—I think you’re wrong.”
“Mom, just ‘cause he’s polite and stuff doesn’t make him a good guy—coral snakes are pretty too! And his brother--”
“We’re talking about him, not his brother…but I think there’s a lot to talk about there, isn’t?”
Clark blushed fiercely and frowned and refused to speak.
Martha shook her head. “I know about Lucas.”
Clark dropped the brush into the sink, splattering himself. His voice shook when he spoke. “You do?”
His mom nodded. “I know you thought we didn’t know but it was obvious…the signs were there.”
Clark felt the blood rush out of his face, he felt cold and sick. “--you knew? How? I didn’t! I didn’t know he was having sex with his brother until--I was so--I hated them both—I hate them!”
Martha dropped down onto a stool, white as a ghost; so white it frightened Clark…she stared at Clark in horror, her hand at her mouth. “Sex. With—oh my god. Oh…my god.” Her eyes were unfocused, and she looked so ill and shaky that Clark reached out to catch her.
“But...but you said you knew! I’m sorry!” Clark dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around her knees. He laid his head on her lap and rocked back and forth. “I’ve...besides Bruce no one knew until now…Lucas…”
I thought you meant he was your boyfriend, my god—I would never have imagined that, never. That’s…” she shook her head, and stroked Clark’s hair. “ Poor twisted screwed up boys.”
Clark jerked away and glared at his mom. “What! Poor boys? They’re sick! Perverts!” Clarks face screwed up and for a moment he looked like a little boy. “He ruined my life!”
Martha held her hands out to Clark. “Sweetheart, my goodness, what you’ve been going through all these years. Why didn’t you say something, tell us?” She looked guilty as Clark took her hand. “Your father always felt something wasn’t quite right with Lucas, but I never saw it. I feel so---horrible for Lex.”
Clark wanted to scream what about me, but kept silent. Dad was right-but he couldn’t tell her or him. He couldn’t cross that one line and he didn’t know why. Lucas was a killer, he killed every day, one way or another but this one horrible crime—it wouldn’t cross his lips, he couldn’t say out loud Lucas killed his own father—and somehow Lex let it happen. Lex--
“Why is Lex calling you anyway--” he stopped at the look on his mom’s face. “He’s here? What’s he doing in Smallville—they don’t have the castle anymore.”
“Clark, now calm down…”
“Oh, what-- they have it back? When were you going to tell me that?”
“ Clark! I promised him I wouldn’t tell you…”
Why? So he can corrupt you at his leisure?”
“Clark!” Martha slapped him on the head. “Calm down! He asked me not to tell so you wouldn’t get disturbed—and I see he was right. He wanted you to relax, enjoy your time home. And Clark—he knows about you.”
“Wha--what…” A dozen different guilty images flashed through his mind—the podium at the fortress and it’s torture scenarios, watching him from mid-air—screaming his name into the sheets—so fucked….
“He knows you’re Superman. I don’t know…he didn’t say in so many words but I know he does.”
Clark swayed, he felt nauseous….how? How did he know…Clark’s mind zipped through all the security precautions he took—how could he have found out? And if Lex knew, Lucas surely knew but…why hadn’t they acted on it?
Clark glowered towards the castle. He needed to be stopped.
“Clark, if you do one thing to disturb him, you’ll be in trouble with me. You have no idea how fragile he is, he’s ready to break…and no wonder.” She looked so disturbed, Clark deeply regretted telling her, and it made him want to hurt Lex.
“He needs someone to help him, I can tell.” She looked at Clark. “Whatever is going on with him, it’s obvious it’s not something that makes him happy. You need to see the Lex I see, Clark, he’s like a lost little boy.”
“You keep out of it Mom. You keep away from him. I know what they’re like and you don’t want to have anything to do with them. It’s evil.”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “Evil? You’re able to make that judgment? Oh, yes, excuse me, I forgot. You’re Superman.” She walked out of the barn without another word.
Clark stared at the open doors. He was right; it was evil what they were doing. He knew what was going on with them, the drugs and sex and hurting innocent people—and…okay, maybe he had some remorse, that one. Maybe he *did*try to hurt himself. Kill himself.
Or most likely it was a drunken accident.
He looked down at his red splattered shirt. It looked like blood. Since working with Bruce, he’d become all too familiar with the sight. He tried to imagine it was Lex’s blood and his stomach turned over. He didn’t want it to be—he didn’t want it to be Lucas’ either.
Pretty much, he just wished it ‘d never happened. He wished it were over. Lately it was dragging him down, this hatred, making him sick and tired and desperate for peace that was coming at a higher and higher price. And he knew Lex’s accident wasn’t.
He went into the house.
“Mom. I…I think Lex might have tried to kill himself.”
His mother whipped around to face him. “Oh no!” she breathed. “When?”
“A few weeks ago… Lucas managed to keep it out of the national news. I. I caught him—he fell off his balcony. He was so messed up he doesn’t even know what really happened, but I’m pretty sure he meant to do it.”
“Oh lord,” his mother sighed. “Its worse than you thought isn’t it?”
Clark jerked his head up to her, but she was looking out the window. “Poor boy.”
“He’s hardly a boy, mom. He’s almost thirty...old enough to make up his own mind.”
“Unless he doesn’t know how to,” she murmured.
“What? Oh please. I remember Lex---no one could tell him to do anything—remember when he rescued the kids from the plant? He walked right in and no one could stop him. He was so brave…” Clark’s voice trailed off “…he was so nice to me, he treated me like a grown-up then, like I was someone special and I wanted to be him—be just like him. Damn it--I *wanted* him!”
He rushed from the window to the opposite side of the kitchen, his eyes closed and screwed tight in misery. “What happened? Why did he change?” He felt the pain like a punch to the gut, “What happened to me!” he almost wailed and his mom was suddenly there, warm and soft and squeezing him hard.
“Ask him, Clark—ask him-what happened. And be prepared to not like all you hear. But give him a chance. I know he wants it.” She leaned back and folded her arms, looked him up and down. “You save people. Corny as it may sound, I believe it’s your destiny—and I think you need to save Lex.”
“I have no idea how to save him. He probably doesn’t want to be ‘saved’. You can’t tell me in six years it never occurred to him to walk away? Lucas didn’t have him locked up in that apartment. I know.” He blushed faintly when his mom silently cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Well, sometimes…I checked. When he was alone. Mom!” He fidgeted before going on. “He’s rich enough, he could have gone and done whatever he wanted, instead he stayed with that guy, a guy who as far as I can tell has all the moral sense of a sociopathic shark. Bruce won’t talk to him anymore,” he said and sat back. That was proof positive as far as he was concerned that Lex was unsalvageable and his mom had to agree now.
“Bruce, while delightful and a joy, is also rather judgmental and holds everyone he cares for to a standard that’s…unattainable for most humans.” She smiled at Clark. “You probably just barely manage to meet it.”
Clark couldn’t help but grin a little. Yeah…and hey—don’t distract me,” he frowned. “Really Mom, it’s terrible, some of the things they’ve done.” Clark looked down at the table and thought about LuthorCorp, how clean it looked on the surface, how corrupt it was deep down…a corruption so well concealed that most thought of the Luthors—Lucas—as a great and compassionate person. Lex had a hand in all that too. He had to…have his place in LuthorCorp.
He was just the same as Lucas. Right?
Well, more of the story that rewrote itself. I’m just going with the flow now folks. Mind you, I do kind of like it. Next up—I have no idea! Whoo-hoo! It’s like bunjee-jumping only with out the possibility of painful splatty death!
Clark was leaning over the utility sink in the corner of the barn, taking his time washing out the brushes he used to paint the barn.
He’d gotten up early enough that his mom and dad were still sleeping and started painting at mostly human speed, just to clear his mind. He’d managed to force out all thoughts of Lex and just kind of hum along, not thinking. He could hear the cows shuffling about in the sheds, and the movements of mice—and the cats hunting them…he’d concentrated on letting his hearing drop into normal range and just enjoyed the simple movement of brush up and brush down and the slowly warming sun on his back….
He watched the deep red tinted water swirl down the drain and his mind was pleasantly blank. For the moment, he had nothing to think about, nothing needed his attention and he was content.
The sound of footsteps behind him brought him back to the here and now, reluctantly. His pleasant daze was already evaporating…
“Clark?”
“Yes, Mom?” He turned to face her and sighed. Great. She had the same look on her face as last night at dinnertime, that speculative, searching look. No good was coming of that, he thought.
“I’d like to talk to you about Lex.”
“What?” Clark nearly squeaked and glanced down at himself, turned bright red. Was she suddenly psychic? Could she tell that--“Why?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking—he and I have gotten to be pretty good friends lately--”
What? The hell? Friends? “Wait, you’re telling me…you’ve been talking to that guy? He’s—he’s a very bad guy, Mom!”
She had the nerve to roll her eyes at him, and went on. “I know all about your opinions concerning the Luthors, dear, regardless that you haven’t provided cold hard facts--” Clark sputtered, but forced himself to quiet when Martha held her hands up “--but I have a feeling there’s so much more happening there that we just don’t know.”
He scrubbed violently at the brush in his hand and winced when a handful of bristles washed down the drain with the paint. Darn! “I don’t care. I don’t want you talking to him. When I get back to Metropolis—the heck with that—I’m going to go and tell him to keep the hell away from you right now! Sick son-of –a –bitch! Damn it!” The bristle-less brush cracked in his hand and he tossed it down to grab another…forced himself to be gentle.
“Clark! Watch your language!” she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, and hung on tight. “Lex has been unfailingly polite and very kind and...nice, just nice.”
Clark waved his free arm in frustration, “Mom—you don’t understand. He’s a—a mobster, a criminal! And a very, very bad man.”
“Clark—I think you’re wrong.”
“Mom, just ‘cause he’s polite and stuff doesn’t make him a good guy—coral snakes are pretty too! And his brother--”
“We’re talking about him, not his brother…but I think there’s a lot to talk about there, isn’t?”
Clark blushed fiercely and frowned and refused to speak.
Martha shook her head. “I know about Lucas.”
Clark dropped the brush into the sink, splattering himself. His voice shook when he spoke. “You do?”
His mom nodded. “I know you thought we didn’t know but it was obvious…the signs were there.”
Clark felt the blood rush out of his face, he felt cold and sick. “--you knew? How? I didn’t! I didn’t know he was having sex with his brother until--I was so--I hated them both—I hate them!”
Martha dropped down onto a stool, white as a ghost; so white it frightened Clark…she stared at Clark in horror, her hand at her mouth. “Sex. With—oh my god. Oh…my god.” Her eyes were unfocused, and she looked so ill and shaky that Clark reached out to catch her.
“But...but you said you knew! I’m sorry!” Clark dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around her knees. He laid his head on her lap and rocked back and forth. “I’ve...besides Bruce no one knew until now…Lucas…”
I thought you meant he was your boyfriend, my god—I would never have imagined that, never. That’s…” she shook her head, and stroked Clark’s hair. “ Poor twisted screwed up boys.”
Clark jerked away and glared at his mom. “What! Poor boys? They’re sick! Perverts!” Clarks face screwed up and for a moment he looked like a little boy. “He ruined my life!”
Martha held her hands out to Clark. “Sweetheart, my goodness, what you’ve been going through all these years. Why didn’t you say something, tell us?” She looked guilty as Clark took her hand. “Your father always felt something wasn’t quite right with Lucas, but I never saw it. I feel so---horrible for Lex.”
Clark wanted to scream what about me, but kept silent. Dad was right-but he couldn’t tell her or him. He couldn’t cross that one line and he didn’t know why. Lucas was a killer, he killed every day, one way or another but this one horrible crime—it wouldn’t cross his lips, he couldn’t say out loud Lucas killed his own father—and somehow Lex let it happen. Lex--
“Why is Lex calling you anyway--” he stopped at the look on his mom’s face. “He’s here? What’s he doing in Smallville—they don’t have the castle anymore.”
“Clark, now calm down…”
“Oh, what-- they have it back? When were you going to tell me that?”
“ Clark! I promised him I wouldn’t tell you…”
Why? So he can corrupt you at his leisure?”
“Clark!” Martha slapped him on the head. “Calm down! He asked me not to tell so you wouldn’t get disturbed—and I see he was right. He wanted you to relax, enjoy your time home. And Clark—he knows about you.”
“Wha--what…” A dozen different guilty images flashed through his mind—the podium at the fortress and it’s torture scenarios, watching him from mid-air—screaming his name into the sheets—so fucked….
“He knows you’re Superman. I don’t know…he didn’t say in so many words but I know he does.”
Clark swayed, he felt nauseous….how? How did he know…Clark’s mind zipped through all the security precautions he took—how could he have found out? And if Lex knew, Lucas surely knew but…why hadn’t they acted on it?
Clark glowered towards the castle. He needed to be stopped.
“Clark, if you do one thing to disturb him, you’ll be in trouble with me. You have no idea how fragile he is, he’s ready to break…and no wonder.” She looked so disturbed, Clark deeply regretted telling her, and it made him want to hurt Lex.
“He needs someone to help him, I can tell.” She looked at Clark. “Whatever is going on with him, it’s obvious it’s not something that makes him happy. You need to see the Lex I see, Clark, he’s like a lost little boy.”
“You keep out of it Mom. You keep away from him. I know what they’re like and you don’t want to have anything to do with them. It’s evil.”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “Evil? You’re able to make that judgment? Oh, yes, excuse me, I forgot. You’re Superman.” She walked out of the barn without another word.
Clark stared at the open doors. He was right; it was evil what they were doing. He knew what was going on with them, the drugs and sex and hurting innocent people—and…okay, maybe he had some remorse, that one. Maybe he *did*try to hurt himself. Kill himself.
Or most likely it was a drunken accident.
He looked down at his red splattered shirt. It looked like blood. Since working with Bruce, he’d become all too familiar with the sight. He tried to imagine it was Lex’s blood and his stomach turned over. He didn’t want it to be—he didn’t want it to be Lucas’ either.
Pretty much, he just wished it ‘d never happened. He wished it were over. Lately it was dragging him down, this hatred, making him sick and tired and desperate for peace that was coming at a higher and higher price. And he knew Lex’s accident wasn’t.
He went into the house.
“Mom. I…I think Lex might have tried to kill himself.”
His mother whipped around to face him. “Oh no!” she breathed. “When?”
“A few weeks ago… Lucas managed to keep it out of the national news. I. I caught him—he fell off his balcony. He was so messed up he doesn’t even know what really happened, but I’m pretty sure he meant to do it.”
“Oh lord,” his mother sighed. “Its worse than you thought isn’t it?”
Clark jerked his head up to her, but she was looking out the window. “Poor boy.”
“He’s hardly a boy, mom. He’s almost thirty...old enough to make up his own mind.”
“Unless he doesn’t know how to,” she murmured.
“What? Oh please. I remember Lex---no one could tell him to do anything—remember when he rescued the kids from the plant? He walked right in and no one could stop him. He was so brave…” Clark’s voice trailed off “…he was so nice to me, he treated me like a grown-up then, like I was someone special and I wanted to be him—be just like him. Damn it--I *wanted* him!”
He rushed from the window to the opposite side of the kitchen, his eyes closed and screwed tight in misery. “What happened? Why did he change?” He felt the pain like a punch to the gut, “What happened to me!” he almost wailed and his mom was suddenly there, warm and soft and squeezing him hard.
“Ask him, Clark—ask him-what happened. And be prepared to not like all you hear. But give him a chance. I know he wants it.” She leaned back and folded her arms, looked him up and down. “You save people. Corny as it may sound, I believe it’s your destiny—and I think you need to save Lex.”
“I have no idea how to save him. He probably doesn’t want to be ‘saved’. You can’t tell me in six years it never occurred to him to walk away? Lucas didn’t have him locked up in that apartment. I know.” He blushed faintly when his mom silently cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Well, sometimes…I checked. When he was alone. Mom!” He fidgeted before going on. “He’s rich enough, he could have gone and done whatever he wanted, instead he stayed with that guy, a guy who as far as I can tell has all the moral sense of a sociopathic shark. Bruce won’t talk to him anymore,” he said and sat back. That was proof positive as far as he was concerned that Lex was unsalvageable and his mom had to agree now.
“Bruce, while delightful and a joy, is also rather judgmental and holds everyone he cares for to a standard that’s…unattainable for most humans.” She smiled at Clark. “You probably just barely manage to meet it.”
Clark couldn’t help but grin a little. Yeah…and hey—don’t distract me,” he frowned. “Really Mom, it’s terrible, some of the things they’ve done.” Clark looked down at the table and thought about LuthorCorp, how clean it looked on the surface, how corrupt it was deep down…a corruption so well concealed that most thought of the Luthors—Lucas—as a great and compassionate person. Lex had a hand in all that too. He had to…have his place in LuthorCorp.
He was just the same as Lucas. Right?
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(no subject)
10/5/05 10:48 pm (UTC)Great part!
(no subject)
10/6/05 05:21 am (UTC)