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roxyOccasionally I like to write a simple love story, full of uplifting and spiritually moving moments...but this one is just nasty, full of the incest (before incest was fashionable) death, blood, bodily fluids…business as usual here at Story Corner. *g*
This here is all the previous parts, right here.
If there are any newcomers dropping in, you might want to read the other bits first. In fact, this is the second part of a two part thing—the first being Dis Pater Kronus and it’s at SSA. Wow—I’m getting better and better at the self pimping. *G* it’s a pretty good story, go read it. Now! I’ll wait here….
*****
Clark came in at twilight, and Lex was waiting for him near the barn doors. He watched, rapt, as Clark dropped slowly out of the sky, touching down light as dandelion fluff. The ridiculous cape swirled around his shoulders before settling around his calves and swept little puffs of dust from the gravel walk.
“God,” Lex breathed, “Do you have any idea how truly…stupid you look?”
Clark laughed weakly, and wiped soot from his face as he walked towards the barn with Lex. “Yes, thank you very much, I know…the get-up was Lara’s idea. Apparently if by some miracle a Kryptonian drops out of the sky, they’ll know immediately that I’m from the house of El and what my status is…was.” He gestured at the shield on his chest
. “This is the shield of my house…” He blushed. “It’s a little bit like the shield of Alexander, too…”
Lex smiled and stroked Clark’s arm, ran his fingers around his wrist. “And the undies on the outside?”
Clark nearly pouted. “They are not undies—it’s just for contrast, for interest—oh, shut up. They aren’t separate, anyway. It’s three pieces, plus the belt. The belt’s just for…cool. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Mom, she more or less designed it.” He grinned for a moment before going on. “At the Fortress, I just trash the old uniforms and Lara produces a new one.” His smile dimmed. “Usually, they’re really damaged. I—I don’t like wearing repaired uniforms.” Clark looked sad, guilty, and horribly tired. Lex reached out to hug him.
Clark pushed him back, “Don’t touch me Lex, I don’t want you to get dirty too,” he sighed.
Lex looked at him sympathetically. “Clark, go take a shower, eat, rest. You did everything you could. You’re not alone in the world, after all. I mean, there are others out there, other protectors.”
Clark nodded and huffed, blowing his bangs up. “I guess I do stink. I need a shower, and some sleep--I need…” He looked at Lex and Lex felt a little shiver run down his spine. Clark didn’t look away, didn’t blush. He looked at Lex, and Lex could feel the want pouring off of Clark.
“Lex, when? When can we--”
"Clark, I…I want to. I really do. But…”
"Lex, if it’s about Bruce—that’s over, I swear it. We’re partners friends—but we’re not lovers. There’s no one else…and you’ve --” Clark stopped, his face clouded over for a moment. “—well, you. Are.” He stopped.
Lex sat on the edge of the stair to the loft. “Clark. Clark…it’s hideous to think that the only two people I’ve slept with, wanted to sleep with, are the same that you have.”
Clark froze, horror making his face a mask.
Lex went on as if he hadn’t noticed. “I’ve fucked a lot of people, mostly because Lucas wanted me to,” and he blocked out the small hurt sound Clark made, “But I’ve only been emotionally involved with Bruce. And Lucas.”
Clark swallowed and nodded. “Okay, I know that. I do, I know that.” He kept nodding, until Lex grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him on the step.
“I went to see him today.”
Clark squeezed his eyes shut, and folded his hands. “Yeah? How’d it go? You okay?”
“Yeah. I think it went well.”
Clark looked at him.
“I think that he’s finally going to let go. I think he understood, that I’m not under his--his—thrall—anymore,” he said and a low laugh broke from him.
Clark sighed. “Lex, Lucas doesn’t operate from the same place as normal people. The world looks a lot different to him than it does to us…” He stopped and laughed bitterly. “Even to us.”
“I know how he thinks—I spent the last seven years learning how he thinks. I know my…my brother.”
Clark leaned back against the step and breathed out. For a long moment he said nothing, before getting to his feet and pulling Lex up. “Let’s go in, let me get cleaned up.”
They got up and walked towards the farmhouse.
“By the way Clark, your mother thinks we’re sleeping together.”
“Geez—why—she thinks--”
She thinks we sneak into each other’s room. It’s kind of cute really. Like we’re kids.”
Clark looked at him. “We should have those memories. It should have been you and me. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Lex nodded. “Clark…we’ll make new memories. We’ll start over.”
“Someday,” Clark breathed. “When you’re ready, yes. We’ll start all over and it will be new. Just you and me.”
“Right.” Lex tugged on his hand. “Now.”
“Now!” Clark gasped. “N-now.”
Lex looked at him critically. “Clark that outfit does little to hide…em—arousal.”
Clark crouched a little. “Up until now, I never really had to think about that—Lex , now?”
“Yes Clark, and the sooner you shower, the more now it will be.”
******
Clark stood in the steaming water, hotter than any human could take and scrubbed the dirt and guilt off, he scrubbed hard enough to turn his skin pink, red in spots. Finally, he turned down the hot water, and leaned against the wall. Arms spread, legs spread, head hanging under the fixture, letting the lukewarm water soothe him.
“Finally,” he heard, and then smooth hands were rubbing his back, circling around to hold him. Lex.
“Hope you don’t mind…” He felt a cat-like lick run between his shoulder blades and the hands ran up his chest. Twin pinches at his nipples made him gasp.
“Umm, you’re very sensitive there…” Lex reached around Clark and shut off the water. Clark protested and Lex stopped him with a kiss. He shook his head, said, “I want it in bed. I want to take my time; I want it to be good.”
Clark tried to breathe normally, his dick was hard and swayed with every breath—Lex was scraping his nails from his navel to the base of his dick and it felt wonderful. His breath hitched as Lex scratched harder, his dick spurt a little drop of clear fluid and he groaned.
“Clark, you’re so eager, so willing. So hot,” Lex murmured and bent to lick the tip of his dick. Clark gasped and jerked, bumping the head against Lex’s mouth, and he took it in briefly, rolled his tongue around the top and under the rim before letting it escape it with a pop.
“Go on Clark, go get in the bed.”
******
Harris lay on his side, arm tucked under his head and the bed pillow clutched over his chest. He was still thinking about the ride back to the castle. It had been surreal, and after, frightening.
Lucas had left him in the car, without a word, and he’d sat still as he could in the back seat. Waiting. For Lucas to come back and—and shoot him. Something. He figured that he’d want to get rid of him quick. But he sat and waited and waited and Lucas didn’t come back, so he went on into the castle, back to his room. He’d fidgeted about, packed his suitcase, spent a little time cleaning the mostly featureless and impersonal bedroom. He felt driven by a need to leave nothing of himself behind. If he had to die, he didn’t want bits and pieces of his life blowing around here in Bugfuck, Nowhere.
And now he lay here in the dark and waited some more and felt sad, empty. How had he fucked up so badly? What was the moment in which he’d lost everything—way before this—was it the day Lucas had picked him out of the crowd, “awarded” him this position? He snorted. The worst part of his life was also the best part. When he was with Lucas, it was horrible, and the best it ever was. He sighed, deep, shaky, and a tear leaked out from the side of his eye.
The door creaked, and quiet footsteps stopped at his bedside. Harris closed his eyes and waited.
“Thank you…for tonight.”
Harris’ heartbeat stuttered, and the bed creaked with added weight. “I came to say thank you for not speaking when I lost control before.”
He stretched out, and Harris felt his heat, his skin next to his. Lucas ran a hand up his arm, cupped his face. “Thank you. I have to be so strong all the time, you know? Sometimes it’s too much.”
Harris licked his dry lips and Lucas leaned in and kissed him, wet and soft, just perfect. His tongue in his mouth was like velvet; it circled the inside of his mouth, pushed and rubbed against his own tongue, filled his mouth with heat, filled his dick with heat. Lucas pulled back, and Harris groaned. “Please,” he whispered. Please? Please kiss me again. Please make me yours. Please use me. Please don’t kill me.
He felt Lucas smile against his suddenly sensitive skin. His hand slid into his shorts and gripped his already leaking dick. Short, hard strokes had him gasping in seconds. He felt Lucas’ lips against his neck, his tongue tracing patterns on his skin as his hand squeezed, flew over him. When Lucas pressed a thumb in his throat he came, quivering, waiting… Lucas squeezed him one last time, wiped his hand on the sheet and got up.
“Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He left the room and Harris spent the rest of the night breathing, just breathing.
******
Lucas glared at the finished interface. It gleamed in the low light of the lab, it felt like…it was looking back. Lucas shook himself and grimaced. It did look rather like a metal spine. The wires moved in an unpleasantly aware way when he came closer to it. Darrell ordered him to strip and bent him over the edge of the cross-shaped lab table. He swabbed different areas along his back and poked and picked him along the length of it. Lucas waited with an edge of impatience for the shot.
“I wonder,” Darrell muttered as he slid the needle in, “if the amount of extract in your blood would be enough to cause Superman problems…he might be unable to face you just because of the extract in your blood—if you start bleeding, you know…”
Lucas gasped, ground his teeth and waited for the first wave of pain to pass. “Yeah, well, we’ll see. Hook that thing up—no more waiting.”
Darrell called in his team, and Lucas was stretched out face down on the specially designed table, he was splayed out, arms and legs secured. “So you won’t thrash about, it’s a little uncomfortable. Our test subjects indicated that removal was much less…uncomfortable.”
“Yeah,” Lucas rasped. “Did they tell you or did you figure that out in autopsy?”
“Come on now,” Darrell huffed. “Would I kill the hand that feeds me?”
Lucas laughed and gasped as the icy cold object was positioned on top of him. He was immobile, and his heart raced, not entirely from fear of the interface, but also from the sensation of being completely helpless…he hated it. He felt a little prick, and another…and another, and another and another, he hissed, grit his teeth, gasped and yelled finally--it felt like he was being stung a million times, by psychotic bees. Giant psychotic bees. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even twitch, but the drug kicked in and he groaned at the double impact of pain and pleasure. “Fuck, Darrell, you bastard…you get off on this don’t you,” he managed to pant.
Darrell laughed and said, “This costs too much to be about my private pleasure.” He leaned close and whispered, “But, yeah, it is kind of hot.”
“I’m going to kill you, Darrell,” he groaned and Darrell laughed again. Lucas coasted on the warm waves of intense sensation and imagined the look on Darrell’s face when he ripped it off. He was going to grind him into a paste; he was going to break every bone in his body.
The cold slither between his shoulders dragged him back from the edge of intense pleasure, reminded him of his purpose here. Arousal seeped away and he gagged. He swore he could feel the thing coiling around his spine, wrapping around his neck and shoulders, hooking around his ribs….
A few minutes passed, and Darrell ran his fingers over a keypad and walked around Lucas as the table tilted forward. He was on his feet, attendants at his side to catch him if he stumbled—the restraints released and he staggered forward. The weight was odd, not really heavy just…weird.
Darrell’s assistants led him forward; he took unsteady steps until he got to the suit. The beautiful exoskeleton, the gleaming beautiful armor that he was about to become part of, the machine that would let him kill Superman.
They turned him and backed him into it, and the interface connected to the suit. He shook wildly for a moment, his nerves over loaded with input, and then he was out—for a moment, completely out of his body, floating in deep black, blind, deaf, warm…happy….
Acid dripped straight into his spine and brought him back with a shriek. He threw his arms up, and yelled again as they jerked in their sockets—he heard the groan of abused metal, and excited shouting.
“It’s okay, Lucas, it’s okay!” Darrell was yelling something at him, and waving his arms. His head tracked the movements and he felt like he had a high collar on—the back of the suit. He lowered his arms and got a ghost sensation of lowering his arm again. He moved his leg, same thing—there was a faint echo of the movement.
“What…” his voice echoed in his head, unpleasantly loud. He raised his hand to his head and heard a clang, and his head rocked back. He distinctly heard snickers until he swept his head around, looking for the laugher.
“What’s going on,” Darrell asked eagerly, “what’s happening?”
“There’s some kind of …echo effect. I feel my arms and legs moving, but from far away…” He swept his arm slowly and asked, “Why can’t I move the rest of me? You fucked something up Darrell—“
“No, no—your still hooked to the frame, you pulled that arm free. Damn, it’s much stronger than I thought it would be.” Darrell touched the keypad again and the suit separated from the frame. Lucas took a step forward, prepared to compensate for the extra weight, and he nearly floated. He felt like he was wearing nothing, naked and light as a feather.
“Fucking amazing Darrell, fucking genius.”
“Can you see? Are you seeing the lab?”
Lucas looked around and realized the view was much more like staring at a simulation.
“Yeah, it looks weird…”
“You’re looking at a screen. Your head is enclosed in--”
“Take it off! Take it the fuck off now. I want to see with my own eyes.”
“But…”
“Now, God damn it.”
Darrell sighed and pressed the keypad again. “Go ahead, I’ve released it. Just pull it off. But it leaves your head vulnerable, you know—the point of the helmet is to protect all of you, including the slop in your skull you call a brain.”
“Fuck you.” Lucas pulled off the headpiece and looked down on the scientist and his assistants. “Yeah. That’s better.” He clenched and flexed his hand and watched as the heavy articulated glove made the same movements—it was his hand, besides the ghost movement, it felt no different.
“So. What happens now?”
“What happens now is we test the hell out of it, and then you take it back off.”
After the practice run and recovery period, Lucas headed home, thinking hard.
He had one major problem—two major problems. How to get the Freak in position to kill him, and how to get Lex’s ass back where it belonged. Shit.
And Harris.
He needed to be dealt with. Lucas snarled and rolled his shoulders. He did not feel guilt, guilt was impossible. Guilt was for weaklings like his dad and like…
You know, I can imagine you meeting that boy at another time. It might have worked out. Just picture it--you and Lex, double dating with Clark and Alexander…sweet, don’t you think? Or it would be if you were capable of love.
“You again. Fuck off! Can’t you haunt Lex, for fuck’s sake, you crazy old bastard.”
Ah-ha. Crazy? I’d like to point out that *you*are the one talking to yourself…you’re crying…
Lucas laughed, and laughed so hard he could barely see the road. He laughed so hard, it made his throat raw. He pressed on the gas pedal, the tires screeched and slid on the gravel road, and he roared toward the castle. He flew over the bridge. Almost home.
tbc
This here is all the previous parts, right here.
If there are any newcomers dropping in, you might want to read the other bits first. In fact, this is the second part of a two part thing—the first being Dis Pater Kronus and it’s at SSA. Wow—I’m getting better and better at the self pimping. *G* it’s a pretty good story, go read it. Now! I’ll wait here….
*****
Clark came in at twilight, and Lex was waiting for him near the barn doors. He watched, rapt, as Clark dropped slowly out of the sky, touching down light as dandelion fluff. The ridiculous cape swirled around his shoulders before settling around his calves and swept little puffs of dust from the gravel walk.
“God,” Lex breathed, “Do you have any idea how truly…stupid you look?”
Clark laughed weakly, and wiped soot from his face as he walked towards the barn with Lex. “Yes, thank you very much, I know…the get-up was Lara’s idea. Apparently if by some miracle a Kryptonian drops out of the sky, they’ll know immediately that I’m from the house of El and what my status is…was.” He gestured at the shield on his chest
. “This is the shield of my house…” He blushed. “It’s a little bit like the shield of Alexander, too…”
Lex smiled and stroked Clark’s arm, ran his fingers around his wrist. “And the undies on the outside?”
Clark nearly pouted. “They are not undies—it’s just for contrast, for interest—oh, shut up. They aren’t separate, anyway. It’s three pieces, plus the belt. The belt’s just for…cool. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Mom, she more or less designed it.” He grinned for a moment before going on. “At the Fortress, I just trash the old uniforms and Lara produces a new one.” His smile dimmed. “Usually, they’re really damaged. I—I don’t like wearing repaired uniforms.” Clark looked sad, guilty, and horribly tired. Lex reached out to hug him.
Clark pushed him back, “Don’t touch me Lex, I don’t want you to get dirty too,” he sighed.
Lex looked at him sympathetically. “Clark, go take a shower, eat, rest. You did everything you could. You’re not alone in the world, after all. I mean, there are others out there, other protectors.”
Clark nodded and huffed, blowing his bangs up. “I guess I do stink. I need a shower, and some sleep--I need…” He looked at Lex and Lex felt a little shiver run down his spine. Clark didn’t look away, didn’t blush. He looked at Lex, and Lex could feel the want pouring off of Clark.
“Lex, when? When can we--”
"Clark, I…I want to. I really do. But…”
"Lex, if it’s about Bruce—that’s over, I swear it. We’re partners friends—but we’re not lovers. There’s no one else…and you’ve --” Clark stopped, his face clouded over for a moment. “—well, you. Are.” He stopped.
Lex sat on the edge of the stair to the loft. “Clark. Clark…it’s hideous to think that the only two people I’ve slept with, wanted to sleep with, are the same that you have.”
Clark froze, horror making his face a mask.
Lex went on as if he hadn’t noticed. “I’ve fucked a lot of people, mostly because Lucas wanted me to,” and he blocked out the small hurt sound Clark made, “But I’ve only been emotionally involved with Bruce. And Lucas.”
Clark swallowed and nodded. “Okay, I know that. I do, I know that.” He kept nodding, until Lex grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him on the step.
“I went to see him today.”
Clark squeezed his eyes shut, and folded his hands. “Yeah? How’d it go? You okay?”
“Yeah. I think it went well.”
Clark looked at him.
“I think that he’s finally going to let go. I think he understood, that I’m not under his--his—thrall—anymore,” he said and a low laugh broke from him.
Clark sighed. “Lex, Lucas doesn’t operate from the same place as normal people. The world looks a lot different to him than it does to us…” He stopped and laughed bitterly. “Even to us.”
“I know how he thinks—I spent the last seven years learning how he thinks. I know my…my brother.”
Clark leaned back against the step and breathed out. For a long moment he said nothing, before getting to his feet and pulling Lex up. “Let’s go in, let me get cleaned up.”
They got up and walked towards the farmhouse.
“By the way Clark, your mother thinks we’re sleeping together.”
“Geez—why—she thinks--”
She thinks we sneak into each other’s room. It’s kind of cute really. Like we’re kids.”
Clark looked at him. “We should have those memories. It should have been you and me. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Lex nodded. “Clark…we’ll make new memories. We’ll start over.”
“Someday,” Clark breathed. “When you’re ready, yes. We’ll start all over and it will be new. Just you and me.”
“Right.” Lex tugged on his hand. “Now.”
“Now!” Clark gasped. “N-now.”
Lex looked at him critically. “Clark that outfit does little to hide…em—arousal.”
Clark crouched a little. “Up until now, I never really had to think about that—Lex , now?”
“Yes Clark, and the sooner you shower, the more now it will be.”
******
Clark stood in the steaming water, hotter than any human could take and scrubbed the dirt and guilt off, he scrubbed hard enough to turn his skin pink, red in spots. Finally, he turned down the hot water, and leaned against the wall. Arms spread, legs spread, head hanging under the fixture, letting the lukewarm water soothe him.
“Finally,” he heard, and then smooth hands were rubbing his back, circling around to hold him. Lex.
“Hope you don’t mind…” He felt a cat-like lick run between his shoulder blades and the hands ran up his chest. Twin pinches at his nipples made him gasp.
“Umm, you’re very sensitive there…” Lex reached around Clark and shut off the water. Clark protested and Lex stopped him with a kiss. He shook his head, said, “I want it in bed. I want to take my time; I want it to be good.”
Clark tried to breathe normally, his dick was hard and swayed with every breath—Lex was scraping his nails from his navel to the base of his dick and it felt wonderful. His breath hitched as Lex scratched harder, his dick spurt a little drop of clear fluid and he groaned.
“Clark, you’re so eager, so willing. So hot,” Lex murmured and bent to lick the tip of his dick. Clark gasped and jerked, bumping the head against Lex’s mouth, and he took it in briefly, rolled his tongue around the top and under the rim before letting it escape it with a pop.
“Go on Clark, go get in the bed.”
******
Harris lay on his side, arm tucked under his head and the bed pillow clutched over his chest. He was still thinking about the ride back to the castle. It had been surreal, and after, frightening.
Lucas had left him in the car, without a word, and he’d sat still as he could in the back seat. Waiting. For Lucas to come back and—and shoot him. Something. He figured that he’d want to get rid of him quick. But he sat and waited and waited and Lucas didn’t come back, so he went on into the castle, back to his room. He’d fidgeted about, packed his suitcase, spent a little time cleaning the mostly featureless and impersonal bedroom. He felt driven by a need to leave nothing of himself behind. If he had to die, he didn’t want bits and pieces of his life blowing around here in Bugfuck, Nowhere.
And now he lay here in the dark and waited some more and felt sad, empty. How had he fucked up so badly? What was the moment in which he’d lost everything—way before this—was it the day Lucas had picked him out of the crowd, “awarded” him this position? He snorted. The worst part of his life was also the best part. When he was with Lucas, it was horrible, and the best it ever was. He sighed, deep, shaky, and a tear leaked out from the side of his eye.
The door creaked, and quiet footsteps stopped at his bedside. Harris closed his eyes and waited.
“Thank you…for tonight.”
Harris’ heartbeat stuttered, and the bed creaked with added weight. “I came to say thank you for not speaking when I lost control before.”
He stretched out, and Harris felt his heat, his skin next to his. Lucas ran a hand up his arm, cupped his face. “Thank you. I have to be so strong all the time, you know? Sometimes it’s too much.”
Harris licked his dry lips and Lucas leaned in and kissed him, wet and soft, just perfect. His tongue in his mouth was like velvet; it circled the inside of his mouth, pushed and rubbed against his own tongue, filled his mouth with heat, filled his dick with heat. Lucas pulled back, and Harris groaned. “Please,” he whispered. Please? Please kiss me again. Please make me yours. Please use me. Please don’t kill me.
He felt Lucas smile against his suddenly sensitive skin. His hand slid into his shorts and gripped his already leaking dick. Short, hard strokes had him gasping in seconds. He felt Lucas’ lips against his neck, his tongue tracing patterns on his skin as his hand squeezed, flew over him. When Lucas pressed a thumb in his throat he came, quivering, waiting… Lucas squeezed him one last time, wiped his hand on the sheet and got up.
“Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He left the room and Harris spent the rest of the night breathing, just breathing.
******
Lucas glared at the finished interface. It gleamed in the low light of the lab, it felt like…it was looking back. Lucas shook himself and grimaced. It did look rather like a metal spine. The wires moved in an unpleasantly aware way when he came closer to it. Darrell ordered him to strip and bent him over the edge of the cross-shaped lab table. He swabbed different areas along his back and poked and picked him along the length of it. Lucas waited with an edge of impatience for the shot.
“I wonder,” Darrell muttered as he slid the needle in, “if the amount of extract in your blood would be enough to cause Superman problems…he might be unable to face you just because of the extract in your blood—if you start bleeding, you know…”
Lucas gasped, ground his teeth and waited for the first wave of pain to pass. “Yeah, well, we’ll see. Hook that thing up—no more waiting.”
Darrell called in his team, and Lucas was stretched out face down on the specially designed table, he was splayed out, arms and legs secured. “So you won’t thrash about, it’s a little uncomfortable. Our test subjects indicated that removal was much less…uncomfortable.”
“Yeah,” Lucas rasped. “Did they tell you or did you figure that out in autopsy?”
“Come on now,” Darrell huffed. “Would I kill the hand that feeds me?”
Lucas laughed and gasped as the icy cold object was positioned on top of him. He was immobile, and his heart raced, not entirely from fear of the interface, but also from the sensation of being completely helpless…he hated it. He felt a little prick, and another…and another, and another and another, he hissed, grit his teeth, gasped and yelled finally--it felt like he was being stung a million times, by psychotic bees. Giant psychotic bees. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even twitch, but the drug kicked in and he groaned at the double impact of pain and pleasure. “Fuck, Darrell, you bastard…you get off on this don’t you,” he managed to pant.
Darrell laughed and said, “This costs too much to be about my private pleasure.” He leaned close and whispered, “But, yeah, it is kind of hot.”
“I’m going to kill you, Darrell,” he groaned and Darrell laughed again. Lucas coasted on the warm waves of intense sensation and imagined the look on Darrell’s face when he ripped it off. He was going to grind him into a paste; he was going to break every bone in his body.
The cold slither between his shoulders dragged him back from the edge of intense pleasure, reminded him of his purpose here. Arousal seeped away and he gagged. He swore he could feel the thing coiling around his spine, wrapping around his neck and shoulders, hooking around his ribs….
A few minutes passed, and Darrell ran his fingers over a keypad and walked around Lucas as the table tilted forward. He was on his feet, attendants at his side to catch him if he stumbled—the restraints released and he staggered forward. The weight was odd, not really heavy just…weird.
Darrell’s assistants led him forward; he took unsteady steps until he got to the suit. The beautiful exoskeleton, the gleaming beautiful armor that he was about to become part of, the machine that would let him kill Superman.
They turned him and backed him into it, and the interface connected to the suit. He shook wildly for a moment, his nerves over loaded with input, and then he was out—for a moment, completely out of his body, floating in deep black, blind, deaf, warm…happy….
Acid dripped straight into his spine and brought him back with a shriek. He threw his arms up, and yelled again as they jerked in their sockets—he heard the groan of abused metal, and excited shouting.
“It’s okay, Lucas, it’s okay!” Darrell was yelling something at him, and waving his arms. His head tracked the movements and he felt like he had a high collar on—the back of the suit. He lowered his arms and got a ghost sensation of lowering his arm again. He moved his leg, same thing—there was a faint echo of the movement.
“What…” his voice echoed in his head, unpleasantly loud. He raised his hand to his head and heard a clang, and his head rocked back. He distinctly heard snickers until he swept his head around, looking for the laugher.
“What’s going on,” Darrell asked eagerly, “what’s happening?”
“There’s some kind of …echo effect. I feel my arms and legs moving, but from far away…” He swept his arm slowly and asked, “Why can’t I move the rest of me? You fucked something up Darrell—“
“No, no—your still hooked to the frame, you pulled that arm free. Damn, it’s much stronger than I thought it would be.” Darrell touched the keypad again and the suit separated from the frame. Lucas took a step forward, prepared to compensate for the extra weight, and he nearly floated. He felt like he was wearing nothing, naked and light as a feather.
“Fucking amazing Darrell, fucking genius.”
“Can you see? Are you seeing the lab?”
Lucas looked around and realized the view was much more like staring at a simulation.
“Yeah, it looks weird…”
“You’re looking at a screen. Your head is enclosed in--”
“Take it off! Take it the fuck off now. I want to see with my own eyes.”
“But…”
“Now, God damn it.”
Darrell sighed and pressed the keypad again. “Go ahead, I’ve released it. Just pull it off. But it leaves your head vulnerable, you know—the point of the helmet is to protect all of you, including the slop in your skull you call a brain.”
“Fuck you.” Lucas pulled off the headpiece and looked down on the scientist and his assistants. “Yeah. That’s better.” He clenched and flexed his hand and watched as the heavy articulated glove made the same movements—it was his hand, besides the ghost movement, it felt no different.
“So. What happens now?”
“What happens now is we test the hell out of it, and then you take it back off.”
After the practice run and recovery period, Lucas headed home, thinking hard.
He had one major problem—two major problems. How to get the Freak in position to kill him, and how to get Lex’s ass back where it belonged. Shit.
And Harris.
He needed to be dealt with. Lucas snarled and rolled his shoulders. He did not feel guilt, guilt was impossible. Guilt was for weaklings like his dad and like…
You know, I can imagine you meeting that boy at another time. It might have worked out. Just picture it--you and Lex, double dating with Clark and Alexander…sweet, don’t you think? Or it would be if you were capable of love.
“You again. Fuck off! Can’t you haunt Lex, for fuck’s sake, you crazy old bastard.”
Ah-ha. Crazy? I’d like to point out that *you*are the one talking to yourself…you’re crying…
Lucas laughed, and laughed so hard he could barely see the road. He laughed so hard, it made his throat raw. He pressed on the gas pedal, the tires screeched and slid on the gravel road, and he roared toward the castle. He flew over the bridge. Almost home.
tbc
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
6/30/06 11:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/1/06 05:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/30/06 02:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/1/06 05:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/30/06 06:00 pm (UTC)This is so damn freaky and skeery and...sad.
*shudder*
*clings*
(no subject)
7/1/06 05:39 am (UTC)*grin*
(no subject)
6/30/06 09:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/1/06 05:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/1/06 06:44 pm (UTC)they are the best!!!!!!!!!
*clings to their feet*
*send my suckpuppets to them* errr, yeah, *sockpuppets*.....(insert fake blush, hee!)
(no subject)
7/1/06 11:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/1/06 07:41 pm (UTC)I love all of these twisted characters. And Lucas...whooo he needs help beyond electroshock therapy.
(no subject)
7/1/06 11:51 pm (UTC)I swear, I'm going to miss my little Lucas so much!