Brothers And Heroes part 13
11/28/05 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyParts Before
Here we are with a bit more Brothers And Heroes and I’m pathetically grateful. My brain left town a while ago and left no forwarding address. If you see it, tell it to come home please?
Brothers And Heroes
September 6, 19__
Dear Lex,
Well, it’s the start of another school year, and it’s going to be as boring as the last. I thought my freshman year had to be more interesting and at least a little more challenging than 8th grade, but it looks like I’ll be sleeping through this year too.
How was summer this year? I didn’t hear from you about your trip or anything. Nothing bad happened, did it?
I hope you come home soon, I missed you. It sucks we didn’t go to the hotel last summer. I hope we go this year.
Clark misses you a lot too. He’s getting big—I mean huge! You can’t even tell he’s 9, he looks 12 or 13. And that gets him in trouble sometimes because people expect him to act older. He’s starting to pick it up, he’s too mature for his age, poor kid. Talk to him and let him know it’s okay to be a little kid. He always acts like he’s the older brother, like he’s got to take care of me.
Love,
Bruce.
P.S. write me, do you want me to send you Warrior Angel or can you get it out there?
******
September 20, 19__
Dear Bruce,
Well, I’m in another school, so write me at the address on the envelope. I would have written sooner but I’ve had a truly frustrating summer. When I came back from Miami, my dad informed me that I was leaving Hessian. So besides the fact I have to get used to a new place, I didn’t even get to say good-bye to the friends I made at Hessian. No one I know goes to Excelsior and the kids there are all phonies, stuck-up rich kids. I mean *rich* kids. I don’t think these are the kind of kids who’ve ever picked up after themselves or made a sandwich or anything on their own. Obviously this is my punishment for enjoying life too much.
Lex
p.s. yes! Please send the comics, yes!
******
Dear Lex,
I hope you have a good year at your new school. Please come and see me when you can, it’s been a long time. I like school this year, I have nice friends. Whit’s dog had puppies and I want to ask Pop if I can have one. Wish me luck!
Your very best friend,
Love, Clark
******
Summer flew by and fall brought with it a new set of changes for all the boys, Bruce was a freshman in high school, Lex was trying to adjust to life in a new school, and Clark was in fifth grade, learning more and more about himself. What he was learning wasn’t making life easier. Everything was confusing him. Where his life had been a simple set of rules, “don’t do that, do this”—it now took on shades of gray that made it feel like he was dancing in a minefield. He was finding it harder and harder to control his strength, something that had been second nature for him since kindergarten…*things* were happening to him, things he didn’t understand. His skin hurt, his bones ached fiercely all the time. Sometimes he woke up from sleep with headaches so painful all he could do was bite his pillow and cry.
He was frightened by changes he didn’t understand and he couldn’t talk to Whit or Pete about it, that was definitely against the rules. He was alone in this. He wanted to talk to Lex but what if he frightened him? He couldn’t live if Lex pulled away from him. It hurt when his brother looked away from him; it felt like it was the end of the world when his parents had that look in their eyes, that moment of hesitation. He frightened them sometimes, and it hurt like nothing else did, not even that green rock.
Clark was huddled in the corner of the barn; knees pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them. He looked down at the mess at his feet, at his shredded shirt sleeves and his perfect, unmarred, smooth arms. He had no idea anymore how long he’d been folded over himself in the corner, but it was dark now, and he was a little hungry….
Out in the yard, Bruce was yelling for him, and he sounded annoyed but Clark just pushed himself farther into the corner, dropped his head to his knees and shook. He didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to talk to anyone. If he did, he’d have to explain what was wrong, and he didn’t know how to do that. Tears leaked out of his eyes and ran over his arms, leaving clear tracks in the dust that grimed him from head to toe. He bit his lip in an effort not to make a sound.
The doors creaked and opened, a streak of light speared into the gloom. Bruce called into the barn, “Clark, are you in here?”
Clark fought with himself. He wanted to answer, he was supposed to answer Bruce, but Bruce wouldn’t understand….
“Clark!” Bruce sounded worried now, Clark could picture his face creased in concern, blue eyes getting dark, that bloodhound look he got when he was worried—if he found him, Bruce was going to be mad at him for making him worry. The injustice of being so miserable and hurting and then being scolded by Bruce on top of it made him sob out loud.
“Clark?”
Bruce peered around the barn and Clark considered speeding away but Bruce found him.
“There you are! I’ve been running all over the place looking for you, darn it. I know you heard me—Clark!”
Clark was sobbing loudly now, he didn’t care anymore. Bruce found him and he was in trouble and it didn’t matter, nothing mattered. He didn’t belong here with them anyway….
“Sweet, what’s wrong?” Bruce crouched down, and rubbed Clark’s head roughly. “Are you crying?”.
Clark sobbed, choked a bit and blushed bright red. He smacked Bruce’s hand away and growled, “Don’t—and don’t call me stupid names.”
Bruce knelt in the wisps of hay in front of Clark and pushed his arms away from his face. “What--ow!”
He looked down at his knees in pained shock and Clark gasped. “Bruce, no!”
Bruce fell back on his rear, and grabbed his leg in his hands. A sliver of metal poked up from his knee. It had had gone straight in and blood welled up around it and ran down his leg. “Shit! That hurts—“ Bruce paled and sweat popped up “Man—that hurt like a son of a bitch!” the pain was so intense Bruce cursed loudly, something he didn’t normaly do around his younger brother.
“Clark how in the hell did you break a saw into bits, what in the world--" He pulled the slim shard of metal out, grimacing as blood ran down his leg and filled his shoe. Clark paled in horror, his mouth hung open and he let out a little groan.
“Bruce, Bruce…I hurt you.” Clark broke into tears again. “What am I Bruce? Nothing hurts me! Nothing—I swallowed bleach and it just made me throw up and Mom told me it was poisonous and it didn’t do anything, it just came back up, and the saw broke! On my *arm!* and nothing cut me or scratched me—or—or anything!” Clark was shaking and tears ran down his face, Bruce would never understand, never. “I’m not like Lex—not at all. It’s not like---not getting a knee scrape or, or a bee sting. Am I a real person?” He was hysterical, and he couldn’t stop crying, he was getting louder and Bruce was starting to look scared. Sure he was, he was realizing his brother was some kind of monster thing…Clark fell on the ground, covered his face and howled. Bruce leapt to his feet and ran away and Clark felt his leaving like a knife in the heart.
******
Bruce ran into the kitchen, yelling for Ma and Pop. “Something’s wrong with Clark, hurry!” They didn’t even hesitate; they sprinted after Bruce without question, dashed into the barn after him. Clark was huddled on the floor, too tired to cry now, dragging his finger in circles in the dust.
Martha dropped to the floor and grabbed Clark, pulled him to her. “What is it, Clark?”
Jon knelt next to them. “What’s wrong son? Can you tell us--”
“Don’t! I’m not your son,” he cried. “I’m some—thing!”
“You’re not a thing, you’re a boy!” Martha cried, “You’re our baby, our boy!”
“No, I’m not, boys can’t do this!” He grabbed a screwdriver from the pile and drove it into his thigh before Martha could stop him; Jonathan yelled “Clark!” and froze as the screwdriver bent in half.
“See? That’s not normal.” Clark sobbed quietly and Martha stared at Jonathan, ‘Tell him.’ She mouthed and he sighed. “You have to tell him, Jon.”
He sat on the floor next to Clark, and laid his hand over his head. “Son--Clark, we have to show you something important. ”
Tears slipped down Martha’s face as she hugged Clark hard. She stood and coaxed him to his feet. “Come on sweetheart. We have a lot to talk about.”
Bruce stood to the side, confused, scared. Was there something wrong with Clark? Was Clark sick…or something worse?
Jon looked at Bruce. “Come with us, kiddo. You should know this too.”
******
They were in the storm cellar, standing in front of a tarp-covered lump. “The day we found you, the day the meteors fell on Smallville, we found this too.” He jerked the tarp away and revealed a metal thing, arrow head shaped, a bulge in the center of it, shining like it was new…”It was open when we found it, it was just big enough for you then.”
Clark was staring at it, mesmerized, as Jon described the events of that day. Bruce watched him and felt a little dizzy. Not changed by the meteorites like he and Lex had figured. Clark was –something else all together.
Clark nodded, strangely calm. “That’s a space ship for me? The meteorites came with me—do you think I have a mother and father who came down somewhere too?”
Jon shook his head. “I don’t think so Clark. The ship is so tiny and we never saw any evidence of another ship.”
Martha said, “We think something bad happened on your world and your mother and father tried to protect you the only way they could. They sent you to our world, hoping that someone would find you, someone that would love you as much as they did—as much as we do.” Clark clung to her, and she hugged him back fiercely. “We love you so much Clark, all of us.”
Clark looked over at Bruce and he nodded emphatically. “We belong together Clark.” He really believed that, tried to make Clark feel it, and Clark sobbed again.
“But I’ll never be like you!”
Jon hugged Clark too, so he was sandwiched between his parents, Bruce came over and hugged them, too.
“It’s all right, son, it really will be all right,” Jon said. “You might not be exactly like us, but you’ll always be ours, forever and ever no matter what happens.”
“Pop, things are happening to me—things that scare me. I thought I was turning into a monster.”
“Oh, baby!” Martha held his hand and kissed his forehead. “Never!”
Jon nodded. “It’s okay. You’re changing, like all people change as they get older. You’ll notice lots of different things about yourself, just like your friends are noticing changes. With you there’ll just be …extras….”
Bruce looked at Jon incredulously. He had to be kidding. Was this some weird version of ‘The Talk’? Was he just like exceptionally bad at it? This was almost as bad as the one he got—“Extras?” he struggled not to giggle. This was not the time to laugh, god—not now. And of course, the urge grew until he was driving nails into his palms.
Jon shrugged. “Hey, cut me some slack, I’m winging it,” he muttered, and Martha smiled at him. “You’re doing fine,” she whispered.
Clark felt better. He wasn’t going crazy, things really were happening to him, he was different but Mom and Pop had always known how different he was and loved him anyway. He looked over at Bruce, and Bruce was grinning, his eyes ice blue and sparkling. If Bruce could smile like that, than it must be okay. His spirit lifted. He *was* different. He’d have to figure out what that meant later, but for now, this was enough. He stared at the tiny space ship, and shivered. “Cover it, please.”
Today it was enough to know that he wasn’t a monster.
Just like Mom and Pop told him, time made things better. He came to understand, truly understand, that his parents loved him no matter what. Bruce loved him no matter what. He hadn’t told Lex yet. He hadn’t been told not to, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to have Lex think of him as different from himself. They shared this one thing, and even if it wasn’t really true, Clark felt Lex needed it to be true as much as he wished it was. He was waiting for some moment that was right and counting on something to tell him when the moment was.
******
TBC
eta:whoa--sorry about that!
Here we are with a bit more Brothers And Heroes and I’m pathetically grateful. My brain left town a while ago and left no forwarding address. If you see it, tell it to come home please?
Brothers And Heroes
September 6, 19__
Dear Lex,
Well, it’s the start of another school year, and it’s going to be as boring as the last. I thought my freshman year had to be more interesting and at least a little more challenging than 8th grade, but it looks like I’ll be sleeping through this year too.
How was summer this year? I didn’t hear from you about your trip or anything. Nothing bad happened, did it?
I hope you come home soon, I missed you. It sucks we didn’t go to the hotel last summer. I hope we go this year.
Clark misses you a lot too. He’s getting big—I mean huge! You can’t even tell he’s 9, he looks 12 or 13. And that gets him in trouble sometimes because people expect him to act older. He’s starting to pick it up, he’s too mature for his age, poor kid. Talk to him and let him know it’s okay to be a little kid. He always acts like he’s the older brother, like he’s got to take care of me.
Love,
Bruce.
P.S. write me, do you want me to send you Warrior Angel or can you get it out there?
******
September 20, 19__
Dear Bruce,
Well, I’m in another school, so write me at the address on the envelope. I would have written sooner but I’ve had a truly frustrating summer. When I came back from Miami, my dad informed me that I was leaving Hessian. So besides the fact I have to get used to a new place, I didn’t even get to say good-bye to the friends I made at Hessian. No one I know goes to Excelsior and the kids there are all phonies, stuck-up rich kids. I mean *rich* kids. I don’t think these are the kind of kids who’ve ever picked up after themselves or made a sandwich or anything on their own. Obviously this is my punishment for enjoying life too much.
Lex
p.s. yes! Please send the comics, yes!
******
Dear Lex,
I hope you have a good year at your new school. Please come and see me when you can, it’s been a long time. I like school this year, I have nice friends. Whit’s dog had puppies and I want to ask Pop if I can have one. Wish me luck!
Your very best friend,
Love, Clark
******
Summer flew by and fall brought with it a new set of changes for all the boys, Bruce was a freshman in high school, Lex was trying to adjust to life in a new school, and Clark was in fifth grade, learning more and more about himself. What he was learning wasn’t making life easier. Everything was confusing him. Where his life had been a simple set of rules, “don’t do that, do this”—it now took on shades of gray that made it feel like he was dancing in a minefield. He was finding it harder and harder to control his strength, something that had been second nature for him since kindergarten…*things* were happening to him, things he didn’t understand. His skin hurt, his bones ached fiercely all the time. Sometimes he woke up from sleep with headaches so painful all he could do was bite his pillow and cry.
He was frightened by changes he didn’t understand and he couldn’t talk to Whit or Pete about it, that was definitely against the rules. He was alone in this. He wanted to talk to Lex but what if he frightened him? He couldn’t live if Lex pulled away from him. It hurt when his brother looked away from him; it felt like it was the end of the world when his parents had that look in their eyes, that moment of hesitation. He frightened them sometimes, and it hurt like nothing else did, not even that green rock.
Clark was huddled in the corner of the barn; knees pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them. He looked down at the mess at his feet, at his shredded shirt sleeves and his perfect, unmarred, smooth arms. He had no idea anymore how long he’d been folded over himself in the corner, but it was dark now, and he was a little hungry….
Out in the yard, Bruce was yelling for him, and he sounded annoyed but Clark just pushed himself farther into the corner, dropped his head to his knees and shook. He didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to talk to anyone. If he did, he’d have to explain what was wrong, and he didn’t know how to do that. Tears leaked out of his eyes and ran over his arms, leaving clear tracks in the dust that grimed him from head to toe. He bit his lip in an effort not to make a sound.
The doors creaked and opened, a streak of light speared into the gloom. Bruce called into the barn, “Clark, are you in here?”
Clark fought with himself. He wanted to answer, he was supposed to answer Bruce, but Bruce wouldn’t understand….
“Clark!” Bruce sounded worried now, Clark could picture his face creased in concern, blue eyes getting dark, that bloodhound look he got when he was worried—if he found him, Bruce was going to be mad at him for making him worry. The injustice of being so miserable and hurting and then being scolded by Bruce on top of it made him sob out loud.
“Clark?”
Bruce peered around the barn and Clark considered speeding away but Bruce found him.
“There you are! I’ve been running all over the place looking for you, darn it. I know you heard me—Clark!”
Clark was sobbing loudly now, he didn’t care anymore. Bruce found him and he was in trouble and it didn’t matter, nothing mattered. He didn’t belong here with them anyway….
“Sweet, what’s wrong?” Bruce crouched down, and rubbed Clark’s head roughly. “Are you crying?”.
Clark sobbed, choked a bit and blushed bright red. He smacked Bruce’s hand away and growled, “Don’t—and don’t call me stupid names.”
Bruce knelt in the wisps of hay in front of Clark and pushed his arms away from his face. “What--ow!”
He looked down at his knees in pained shock and Clark gasped. “Bruce, no!”
Bruce fell back on his rear, and grabbed his leg in his hands. A sliver of metal poked up from his knee. It had had gone straight in and blood welled up around it and ran down his leg. “Shit! That hurts—“ Bruce paled and sweat popped up “Man—that hurt like a son of a bitch!” the pain was so intense Bruce cursed loudly, something he didn’t normaly do around his younger brother.
“Clark how in the hell did you break a saw into bits, what in the world--" He pulled the slim shard of metal out, grimacing as blood ran down his leg and filled his shoe. Clark paled in horror, his mouth hung open and he let out a little groan.
“Bruce, Bruce…I hurt you.” Clark broke into tears again. “What am I Bruce? Nothing hurts me! Nothing—I swallowed bleach and it just made me throw up and Mom told me it was poisonous and it didn’t do anything, it just came back up, and the saw broke! On my *arm!* and nothing cut me or scratched me—or—or anything!” Clark was shaking and tears ran down his face, Bruce would never understand, never. “I’m not like Lex—not at all. It’s not like---not getting a knee scrape or, or a bee sting. Am I a real person?” He was hysterical, and he couldn’t stop crying, he was getting louder and Bruce was starting to look scared. Sure he was, he was realizing his brother was some kind of monster thing…Clark fell on the ground, covered his face and howled. Bruce leapt to his feet and ran away and Clark felt his leaving like a knife in the heart.
******
Bruce ran into the kitchen, yelling for Ma and Pop. “Something’s wrong with Clark, hurry!” They didn’t even hesitate; they sprinted after Bruce without question, dashed into the barn after him. Clark was huddled on the floor, too tired to cry now, dragging his finger in circles in the dust.
Martha dropped to the floor and grabbed Clark, pulled him to her. “What is it, Clark?”
Jon knelt next to them. “What’s wrong son? Can you tell us--”
“Don’t! I’m not your son,” he cried. “I’m some—thing!”
“You’re not a thing, you’re a boy!” Martha cried, “You’re our baby, our boy!”
“No, I’m not, boys can’t do this!” He grabbed a screwdriver from the pile and drove it into his thigh before Martha could stop him; Jonathan yelled “Clark!” and froze as the screwdriver bent in half.
“See? That’s not normal.” Clark sobbed quietly and Martha stared at Jonathan, ‘Tell him.’ She mouthed and he sighed. “You have to tell him, Jon.”
He sat on the floor next to Clark, and laid his hand over his head. “Son--Clark, we have to show you something important. ”
Tears slipped down Martha’s face as she hugged Clark hard. She stood and coaxed him to his feet. “Come on sweetheart. We have a lot to talk about.”
Bruce stood to the side, confused, scared. Was there something wrong with Clark? Was Clark sick…or something worse?
Jon looked at Bruce. “Come with us, kiddo. You should know this too.”
******
They were in the storm cellar, standing in front of a tarp-covered lump. “The day we found you, the day the meteors fell on Smallville, we found this too.” He jerked the tarp away and revealed a metal thing, arrow head shaped, a bulge in the center of it, shining like it was new…”It was open when we found it, it was just big enough for you then.”
Clark was staring at it, mesmerized, as Jon described the events of that day. Bruce watched him and felt a little dizzy. Not changed by the meteorites like he and Lex had figured. Clark was –something else all together.
Clark nodded, strangely calm. “That’s a space ship for me? The meteorites came with me—do you think I have a mother and father who came down somewhere too?”
Jon shook his head. “I don’t think so Clark. The ship is so tiny and we never saw any evidence of another ship.”
Martha said, “We think something bad happened on your world and your mother and father tried to protect you the only way they could. They sent you to our world, hoping that someone would find you, someone that would love you as much as they did—as much as we do.” Clark clung to her, and she hugged him back fiercely. “We love you so much Clark, all of us.”
Clark looked over at Bruce and he nodded emphatically. “We belong together Clark.” He really believed that, tried to make Clark feel it, and Clark sobbed again.
“But I’ll never be like you!”
Jon hugged Clark too, so he was sandwiched between his parents, Bruce came over and hugged them, too.
“It’s all right, son, it really will be all right,” Jon said. “You might not be exactly like us, but you’ll always be ours, forever and ever no matter what happens.”
“Pop, things are happening to me—things that scare me. I thought I was turning into a monster.”
“Oh, baby!” Martha held his hand and kissed his forehead. “Never!”
Jon nodded. “It’s okay. You’re changing, like all people change as they get older. You’ll notice lots of different things about yourself, just like your friends are noticing changes. With you there’ll just be …extras….”
Bruce looked at Jon incredulously. He had to be kidding. Was this some weird version of ‘The Talk’? Was he just like exceptionally bad at it? This was almost as bad as the one he got—“Extras?” he struggled not to giggle. This was not the time to laugh, god—not now. And of course, the urge grew until he was driving nails into his palms.
Jon shrugged. “Hey, cut me some slack, I’m winging it,” he muttered, and Martha smiled at him. “You’re doing fine,” she whispered.
Clark felt better. He wasn’t going crazy, things really were happening to him, he was different but Mom and Pop had always known how different he was and loved him anyway. He looked over at Bruce, and Bruce was grinning, his eyes ice blue and sparkling. If Bruce could smile like that, than it must be okay. His spirit lifted. He *was* different. He’d have to figure out what that meant later, but for now, this was enough. He stared at the tiny space ship, and shivered. “Cover it, please.”
Today it was enough to know that he wasn’t a monster.
Just like Mom and Pop told him, time made things better. He came to understand, truly understand, that his parents loved him no matter what. Bruce loved him no matter what. He hadn’t told Lex yet. He hadn’t been told not to, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to have Lex think of him as different from himself. They shared this one thing, and even if it wasn’t really true, Clark felt Lex needed it to be true as much as he wished it was. He was waiting for some moment that was right and counting on something to tell him when the moment was.
******
TBC
eta:whoa--sorry about that!
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11/29/05 01:40 pm (UTC)*waits anxiously*