Brothers And Heroes part 5
11/4/05 11:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyParts Before
Rolling along! I’ve reached the fun portion of this cold, no drippiness, but an interesting feeling of being not all here…and I’m off to work! *G*
Brothers And Heroes
Bruce and his parents waited in line at the Odeon, and Bruce was excited. It’d been a few days since he had even seen his mom and dad, so this was a double treat—a movie and a chance to be with his parents. Mattie and Thomas were talking, leaning in towards each other, eyes sparkling—they were enjoying this treat in their own way. The days had been hectic at his office and her clinic; this time of year seemed to bring so much ill health, so many accidents, so many unhappy people. They’d spent even less time with each other less than they’d spent with Bruce; basically their interaction consisted of saying goodnight at bedtime and collapsing into sleep.
Bruce didn’t want to interrupt their time together so he concentrated on looking at the people around him. He found faces fascinating. He loved watching people and imagining their stories…maybe someday he would be a writer, he thought. Mom always said his stories were good. The line moved ahead and his thoughts turned to more important things like could he get milk duds *and* popcorn—and a seat up front by himself.
******
They were waiting on the street for a cab, about to head for a late dinner. Bruce was totally excited to be able to stay up so late and go to dinner even! He was happily and loudly describing the movie they’d all seen to his parents, who listened as though they hadn’t seen it, exclaiming at all the exciting parts.
“And then the part where the fly went in that thing, and didn’t you know he was going to turn into a part man part fly monster! Ewwww!” he shivered happily. “That was so gross!”
“Stop where you are.”
A gravely voice grated against his ear, made the hair on Bruce’s neck raise, and he turned towards his father. The harsh blue light of the streetlamps turned his parents into oddly colored strangers, his dad looked like he was trying hard to be calm, reached slowly for his coat buttons….“Hey—hey now, let’s be calm…I’m going for my wallet all right—let’s just stay calm.” His dad reached into his coat, and his mom suddenly gasped. Her eyes were huge and round, her voice was shaking when she said, “You’ve been to the clinic, haven’t you? I know you, don’t I?”
His dad turned stricken eyes towards her and the man holding the gun jerked back into the shadows, away from the light—shot his mother. Shot his dad, trained the gun on him….
Time slowed, the gun lowered, swung towards him and it took a thousand years…
He heard from far away his mother’s voice, “please!” and the smile that rolled back the man’s lips went on and on and…
The gun turned back towards his parents, time slipped back into it’s groove and a flash came from the muzzle of the gun, once, twice.
His mother coughed and flopped to her back His dad grunted and jerked on the pavement. The man reached down, and ripped the wallet from his dad s hand, dumped his mom’s purse on the ground and flipped through the mess. He yanked her wrist up to pull her watch off, and Bruce’s paralysis broke—he leaped screaming on the man’s back, beating at him, kicking at him. He was slammed to the ground, the gun in thief’s hand adding weight to the punch.
Blood spilled from his mouth and he lay on the ground trying to breath. With the smile still peeling the lips back from his teeth the man backed away. “See ya later, squirt,” he chuckled.
The voice sat in his head long after the man had gone, and the police came, and pulled him away from his parents, long after Alfred rescued him from the station and brought him back home, all sleepless night long.
******
Christmas eve came and went and Christmas day also, without a call from Bruce, and the evening of the twenty-sixth brought a phone call. Lex’s mother answered the phone, a smile of anticipation on her lips. He was watching her as the blood drained from her face and she dropped the phone to the floor with a crash that made Lex jump and for some reason start to cry. His mother folded gently to the floor and he went running to her side.
His father came into the hall, a frown on his face until he saw the two in tears, Lillian holding Alexander on her lap, both of them pale as milk. Her eyes looked black against the ghostly pallor of her face and Lionel snatched up the phone.
“Hello! Yes, we’re still here, Pennyworth, yes…oh. Oh my god--are you sure—well of course you’re sure, forgive me…when. Oh no.” Lionel’s eyes shot toward Lex, who stared at him open mouthed, his face wet with forgotten tears. “Thank you. Yes, we’ll be there tomorrow. Thank you.”
Lillian sobbed on, her head in her hands and Alexander patted her shoulder awkwardly. His heart raced in fear. “What is it Daddy? What’s wrong?”
Lionel crouched next to them and wrapped Lex’s shoulder in his big hand. For once, it felt like comfort.
“Bruce’s parents—had an accident,” he began, “They…died. I’m sorry.”
Lillian cried on in her own little world of grief and Lex didn’t know who to reach out to. His father was in front of him and his hand was still on his shoulder warm and light, not trying to buckle his knees and before he knew it, he was in his father’s arms, crying. “Bruce—is Bruce--”
“Bruce is fine, he’s not hurt. We’ll see him tomorrow. The Kents will be there too.”
“Clark is going to be so sad—he won’t understand,” Alexander cried.
Lionel pulled Lex back and smiled a small but warm smile. “Clark is old enough. He’s a little slow, but you can explain. You understand for him.”
Lex nodded solemnly. He could do that
.
“Son, I have to look after your mother now,” and the spell broke, Lionel was at his mother’s side and he was dismissed and his father’s back was to him, curved over the hunched figure of his mother.
Lex went to his room and tried to imagine a planet without Bruce’s parents in it. A Bruce all alone…he sniffed hard. Maybe…maybe he could get Mom and Dad to adopt Bruce, he could live with them and they could be real brothers. That’d be great. Then they could see each other all the time. Bruce would get used to city life after a while. Lex knew he would. Bruce was tough.
II
The funeral had been pretty strange, so many, many people had known the Waynes, there were rich people and people who looked poor. Bruce said his parents had a lot of friends who were poor. They were people the Waynes had helped. Bruce said that like he was proud of it, and Lex thought that yeah, it was something to be proud of.
He watched Bruce in his black suit standing solemnly next to Alfred, looking like a hero, shaking hands with guys towering over him, talking to him like he was a dummy but never getting mad, never showing how sad he was. Bruce was the bravest kid in the world.
Clark nodded, and Lex was startled he’d said it aloud. He didn’t think he had. He looked down at Clark pressed against his side and thumb in his mouth. Lex sighed. He’d thought he’d talked Clark out of that. “Clark,” he said, and he looked up and grinned around his thumb before whipping it put of his mouth and shoving his wet hand behind his back.
”I thought we got that settled. Big boys don’t suck their thumbs.”
Clark nodded somberly and his eyes were huge and innocent, a thin rim of green around black pupils and Lex knew darn well Clark was full of it. “Don’t try the beagle eyes with me—I’m not your mom, I’m immune to your stuff.”
Clark giggled and repeated “Mune”.
Lex nodded, “Right. Im--mune. Look at me all you want, I don’t care.”
“Yes, Lexer, care,” Clark said distractedly and stared at Bruce. Finally it became too much for him and he broke free of Lex’s restraining arm and flew into Bruce.
Bruce grunted with the force of Clark tackling him, and staggered a bit into Alfred, but he hugged Clark back and let him stand by his side.
Lionel shot Lex a dark look; he’d failed in this one small thing he had to do--keep Clark quiet and still. Lex dropped his head, and swore. For a split second he was mad at Clark but common sense took over. It wasn’t Clark’s fault. No matter how much he told him he was a big boy now, truth was Clark was still a baby and it *was* his fault alone. He didn’t need to look at his dad again. He knew the expression on his face. His stomach tightened.
When Clark looked his way again and waved, he smiled at him.
TBC
Rolling along! I’ve reached the fun portion of this cold, no drippiness, but an interesting feeling of being not all here…and I’m off to work! *G*
Brothers And Heroes
Bruce and his parents waited in line at the Odeon, and Bruce was excited. It’d been a few days since he had even seen his mom and dad, so this was a double treat—a movie and a chance to be with his parents. Mattie and Thomas were talking, leaning in towards each other, eyes sparkling—they were enjoying this treat in their own way. The days had been hectic at his office and her clinic; this time of year seemed to bring so much ill health, so many accidents, so many unhappy people. They’d spent even less time with each other less than they’d spent with Bruce; basically their interaction consisted of saying goodnight at bedtime and collapsing into sleep.
Bruce didn’t want to interrupt their time together so he concentrated on looking at the people around him. He found faces fascinating. He loved watching people and imagining their stories…maybe someday he would be a writer, he thought. Mom always said his stories were good. The line moved ahead and his thoughts turned to more important things like could he get milk duds *and* popcorn—and a seat up front by himself.
******
They were waiting on the street for a cab, about to head for a late dinner. Bruce was totally excited to be able to stay up so late and go to dinner even! He was happily and loudly describing the movie they’d all seen to his parents, who listened as though they hadn’t seen it, exclaiming at all the exciting parts.
“And then the part where the fly went in that thing, and didn’t you know he was going to turn into a part man part fly monster! Ewwww!” he shivered happily. “That was so gross!”
“Stop where you are.”
A gravely voice grated against his ear, made the hair on Bruce’s neck raise, and he turned towards his father. The harsh blue light of the streetlamps turned his parents into oddly colored strangers, his dad looked like he was trying hard to be calm, reached slowly for his coat buttons….“Hey—hey now, let’s be calm…I’m going for my wallet all right—let’s just stay calm.” His dad reached into his coat, and his mom suddenly gasped. Her eyes were huge and round, her voice was shaking when she said, “You’ve been to the clinic, haven’t you? I know you, don’t I?”
His dad turned stricken eyes towards her and the man holding the gun jerked back into the shadows, away from the light—shot his mother. Shot his dad, trained the gun on him….
Time slowed, the gun lowered, swung towards him and it took a thousand years…
He heard from far away his mother’s voice, “please!” and the smile that rolled back the man’s lips went on and on and…
The gun turned back towards his parents, time slipped back into it’s groove and a flash came from the muzzle of the gun, once, twice.
His mother coughed and flopped to her back His dad grunted and jerked on the pavement. The man reached down, and ripped the wallet from his dad s hand, dumped his mom’s purse on the ground and flipped through the mess. He yanked her wrist up to pull her watch off, and Bruce’s paralysis broke—he leaped screaming on the man’s back, beating at him, kicking at him. He was slammed to the ground, the gun in thief’s hand adding weight to the punch.
Blood spilled from his mouth and he lay on the ground trying to breath. With the smile still peeling the lips back from his teeth the man backed away. “See ya later, squirt,” he chuckled.
The voice sat in his head long after the man had gone, and the police came, and pulled him away from his parents, long after Alfred rescued him from the station and brought him back home, all sleepless night long.
******
Christmas eve came and went and Christmas day also, without a call from Bruce, and the evening of the twenty-sixth brought a phone call. Lex’s mother answered the phone, a smile of anticipation on her lips. He was watching her as the blood drained from her face and she dropped the phone to the floor with a crash that made Lex jump and for some reason start to cry. His mother folded gently to the floor and he went running to her side.
His father came into the hall, a frown on his face until he saw the two in tears, Lillian holding Alexander on her lap, both of them pale as milk. Her eyes looked black against the ghostly pallor of her face and Lionel snatched up the phone.
“Hello! Yes, we’re still here, Pennyworth, yes…oh. Oh my god--are you sure—well of course you’re sure, forgive me…when. Oh no.” Lionel’s eyes shot toward Lex, who stared at him open mouthed, his face wet with forgotten tears. “Thank you. Yes, we’ll be there tomorrow. Thank you.”
Lillian sobbed on, her head in her hands and Alexander patted her shoulder awkwardly. His heart raced in fear. “What is it Daddy? What’s wrong?”
Lionel crouched next to them and wrapped Lex’s shoulder in his big hand. For once, it felt like comfort.
“Bruce’s parents—had an accident,” he began, “They…died. I’m sorry.”
Lillian cried on in her own little world of grief and Lex didn’t know who to reach out to. His father was in front of him and his hand was still on his shoulder warm and light, not trying to buckle his knees and before he knew it, he was in his father’s arms, crying. “Bruce—is Bruce--”
“Bruce is fine, he’s not hurt. We’ll see him tomorrow. The Kents will be there too.”
“Clark is going to be so sad—he won’t understand,” Alexander cried.
Lionel pulled Lex back and smiled a small but warm smile. “Clark is old enough. He’s a little slow, but you can explain. You understand for him.”
Lex nodded solemnly. He could do that
.
“Son, I have to look after your mother now,” and the spell broke, Lionel was at his mother’s side and he was dismissed and his father’s back was to him, curved over the hunched figure of his mother.
Lex went to his room and tried to imagine a planet without Bruce’s parents in it. A Bruce all alone…he sniffed hard. Maybe…maybe he could get Mom and Dad to adopt Bruce, he could live with them and they could be real brothers. That’d be great. Then they could see each other all the time. Bruce would get used to city life after a while. Lex knew he would. Bruce was tough.
II
The funeral had been pretty strange, so many, many people had known the Waynes, there were rich people and people who looked poor. Bruce said his parents had a lot of friends who were poor. They were people the Waynes had helped. Bruce said that like he was proud of it, and Lex thought that yeah, it was something to be proud of.
He watched Bruce in his black suit standing solemnly next to Alfred, looking like a hero, shaking hands with guys towering over him, talking to him like he was a dummy but never getting mad, never showing how sad he was. Bruce was the bravest kid in the world.
Clark nodded, and Lex was startled he’d said it aloud. He didn’t think he had. He looked down at Clark pressed against his side and thumb in his mouth. Lex sighed. He’d thought he’d talked Clark out of that. “Clark,” he said, and he looked up and grinned around his thumb before whipping it put of his mouth and shoving his wet hand behind his back.
”I thought we got that settled. Big boys don’t suck their thumbs.”
Clark nodded somberly and his eyes were huge and innocent, a thin rim of green around black pupils and Lex knew darn well Clark was full of it. “Don’t try the beagle eyes with me—I’m not your mom, I’m immune to your stuff.”
Clark giggled and repeated “Mune”.
Lex nodded, “Right. Im--mune. Look at me all you want, I don’t care.”
“Yes, Lexer, care,” Clark said distractedly and stared at Bruce. Finally it became too much for him and he broke free of Lex’s restraining arm and flew into Bruce.
Bruce grunted with the force of Clark tackling him, and staggered a bit into Alfred, but he hugged Clark back and let him stand by his side.
Lionel shot Lex a dark look; he’d failed in this one small thing he had to do--keep Clark quiet and still. Lex dropped his head, and swore. For a split second he was mad at Clark but common sense took over. It wasn’t Clark’s fault. No matter how much he told him he was a big boy now, truth was Clark was still a baby and it *was* his fault alone. He didn’t need to look at his dad again. He knew the expression on his face. His stomach tightened.
When Clark looked his way again and waved, he smiled at him.
TBC
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
11/4/05 04:46 pm (UTC)And wow - we hate Lionel no matter what, don't we!
And poor Lex, always so guilty!
*sniffle*
Damn you!
*snuggles you*
(no subject)
11/4/05 04:57 pm (UTC)LOL! unh- unh!! I've written two sympathtic Lionels! *snorfle* Poor Lionel...
Yeah, Lex--he's my little angst puppet. How I love him! :)
(no subject)
11/4/05 05:27 pm (UTC)You're just evol. Reveling in your eeeevol.
Evol thing.
(no subject)
11/4/05 05:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 05:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/4/05 05:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 05:11 am (UTC)Oops.. I mean, yeah, poor Bruce. *pats him*
(no subject)
11/4/05 07:24 pm (UTC)But, look at me turning a sweet, sad, chap into smutty thoughts.
(no subject)
11/5/05 05:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/4/05 08:09 pm (UTC)Poor Bruce. And he was going to grow up to be a writer, too!
(no subject)
11/5/05 05:18 am (UTC)to think--he could have been the style writer for the Gotham Gazette or something
(no subject)
11/4/05 11:40 pm (UTC)*hugs Bruce*
(no subject)
11/5/05 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 01:30 am (UTC)Wee!Clark has so much love!
(no subject)
11/5/05 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 11:05 am (UTC)Wee!Clark is sooooooooo cute, and Lex should totally go and cuddle with Bruce and Clark, and then the trio should plan how to kill Lionel, hehe
criminal masterminds..indeed
(no subject)
11/5/05 05:25 pm (UTC)yes, yes! *snorfle*
(no subject)
11/5/05 12:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 05:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/5/05 05:28 pm (UTC):(
11/5/05 06:06 pm (UTC)I knew this part was probably coming, but still... Sweet, lovable, little Clark! I bet Bruce feels much better with Clark hugging him. And Lex... just want to hug him and Bruce. Love this series.
Corinna J
Re: :(
11/6/05 03:07 am (UTC)Re: :(
11/6/05 03:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/27/06 11:25 pm (UTC)Poor Bruce, though he's still better off than Lex. And that's such irony. You really really love to torture Lex in so many ways.
Loved Clark being a little kid and SO cute. I want to pinch his cheek.
Could feel Lex's consolation in Clark and in Bruce.
(no subject)
7/1/08 07:49 pm (UTC)::hugs them all::
(no subject)
7/21/08 10:07 pm (UTC)I don't know if I will be commenting on every section, but I will be commenting on most of them. This is a great fic that deserves more than a "Wow, awesome read" at the end. Anyway, don't feel you need to respond to every comment. Maybe you wouldn't anyway, but I didn't want you to feel obligated to.
(no subject)
7/21/08 11:12 pm (UTC)I usually do respond to comments, because it's fun! Hey, it's part of the fun of writing! Sometimes I miss comments, or forget to respond--oy! I understand that not every section even requires a comment, especially when you read them all in a chunk like this. :)
(no subject)
11/9/12 07:09 pm (UTC)