fic post:mariposa
11/10/06 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/…
Rating: 3
Summary: This is an alternate universe version of Smallville. Surprise!
The Previous Parts are here, trying to revive their mommy, who has collaped trying to squeeze this bit out of her heart's blood....
Sorrow
Clark and Chloe were sitting at their table in the Beanery, heads together as she explained once again what was so special about the oddities that popped up in Smallville.
“I think—and I can’t get my dad to agree—but I think old Luthor is using that factory in ways it shouldn’t be. Look, see this? It’s records of shipments to the factory, stuff that doesn’t actually show up anywhere in the place--” she spread papers over the table top, papers that were imprinted with the LuthorCorp letter head… “like a lot of state of the art medical equipment. Unless Plant 3 has the most outrageously generous employee benefits package on the planet….”
“Chloe! You stole these from your dad!”
“No I didn’t—he doesn’t know anything about these. I found it on my own.”
“Chloe—someday you’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful!”
“Oh please--” she quickly shoved the papers back into her backpack at the sound of footsteps behind them.
“Hello you two.” Clark shivered and looked up into Lana’s eyes. She had her arm linked through Whit’s and was smiling ear to ear. “I wanted to ask you to come to the party tonight, oh, and you too, Clark. By the way, can I talk to you later, Chloe? I have some things concerning Spirit Week we need in the paper.”
Clark looked at his friend. “Yes, Chloe--remember—the *school* paper? The one you are editor of?”
Chloe looked annoyed, but smiled, in a slightly feral way. “I hear you, FB. Okay, Lana, we’ll see you tonight. Whit. How's everything?”
Whit loomed over Lana’s shoulder, and Clark tried to shrink inside his clothes. He slid his arm around Lana’s waist, looked at Clark and said, “Fine. I’m fine.”
“Well…good,” Chloe replied and raised her eyebrows at Clark. “Okay…I’m leaving now.”
Clark blushed and emptied his juice box with an embarrassingly loud noise. Whit smiled for a lightning quick moment before scowling again.
“Well, good, we’ll see you to tonight—oh, by the way,” Lana said with a distinctly unhappy expression, “Sean’s been looking for you.”
Chloe squeaked, “Me? That putz--”
“No, actually, he was asking about Clark.”
*********
Chloe and Clark wandered around the lakeside, sipping soda from the big red plastic cups being passed out from the back of a truck. She chattered on about this and that—pretty pointedly trying to distract Clark. Clark nodded, and tried to laugh in the right places, but he kept glancing back to the ring of vehicles parked with their lights shining on the lake.
Whitney and Lana were sitting side by side in the bed of his truck, wrapped in a blanket, giggling and kissing and obviously oblivious to what was going on around them. Clark stood still and watched….
“Clark!”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry—were you talking to me?”
“Clark…” she laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Honey, give it up. That guy’s straight like the ocean’s wet.”
He dipped his head and nodded. “I..I guess. I just hoped…you know.”
She squeezed him again and said, “Listen—I’m grabbing something to drink and I’ll be back, okay?”
Clark nodded, watched her bounce away, and smiled. She was a good friend. He walked around the shore a little, skirting the fire pit, hoped he wouldn’t run into Sean…
wondered exactly what he wanted with him. Sean made him uneasy--he’d caught him more times than seemed coincidental staring at him. Clark snorted. Why couldn’t someone he found attractive eyeball him? He strolled on, slowly edging back into the darkness, wishing he was home.
“Hello, Clark.”
“Pete--” It was a jolt, a shock to actually speak to Pete after all this time. He waited for the familiar stab of heartbreak to pierce him, staring into Pete’s handsome face, looking into his bottomless dark eyes…but it didn’t come. A small smile bowed his lips, he was grateful not to have the pain.
Pete smiled back. “Having a good time, Clark?”
Clark shrugged. “You know me Pete. I’m not really crazy about stuff like this.”
“Well…” Pete looked unsure. “I hope you manage to have a good time, Clark. That Sean guy is asking about you. I told him I haven’t seen you.” He looked a little concerned. “He’s not a good guy, Clark. I’ve heard stuff about him.”
“Pete, thanks for looking out, but I’m a big boy. I can probably handle Sean.”
Pete swallowed and shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so.” He hesitated and then said, “Talk to you later Clark.”
Clark replied, "I’d like that Pete, if we did."
He waved and headed back towards the lakeside.
Clark turned towards the group in the headlights just in time to see Whit and Lana kiss each other like they were never going to have another chance. A trick of the light made them seem highlighted—as if he were standing right next to them, could hear every sound they made….
Clark slumped, felt like an idiot. He walked deeper into the dark, around to the far shore of the lake. He stood alone; the bonfire on the shore was now distant flickers of light dancing upwards. Here where it was dark, the light of the moon turned everything a slivery gray, dashes of sliver danced on the wavelets running over the surface of the lake. There was the faintest sound of water lapping at the edge of the lake, laughter and music, the occasional beep of a horn. His own breath sounded loud in his ears, and he shivered, not really cold—never really cold—just…an odd feeling ran up his spine.
A twig cracked, and leaves shuffled as someone came towards him from the dark. “Hey Clark…” Sean staggered forward, his arms wrapped around himself and a distinctly unwell grimace on his face. He looked blue, his lips curled back from his teeth when Clark gasped.
“Sean. What are you doing out here in the dark?”
“Nothing. Just…” He looked Clark up and down again, in that slow crawl of a stare that made Clark want to scrub every bit of his skin. “Whit is never going to be what you want, you know. Not as long as he has Lana—not as long as he’s in Smallville.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Sean laughed, sharp, high--walked closer. “You know. I can help you. I can help you not to care anymore.”
“What do you want Sean?”
“Me? I just want to get warm….” Sean groaned when he said it, and reached out and touched Clark’s shoulder and his touch burned—pure and biting, like Lana’s necklace had felt against his skin. He jerked away and gasped as he watched ice form on his jacket, his skin….
“I’m sorry Clark but—I can feel you. I felt you from across the lake. You’re so warm. Hot. I need you,” he groaned.
Clark turned, dashed away along the lakeshore; and stumbled over a pile of blackened driftwood pieces. He snatched a thick branch from sand, and turned to face Sean.
“What are you, some kind of hero? Stupid move, Kent—should have kept running.”
Clark swung, connected, and Sean jerked away with a howl of anger and pain. There was a moment in which Clark’s heart soared—he was safe! He was going to get away—and then he was falling, feet tangled in the driftwood. The branch flew wide, and he fell heavily to the wet sand. Sean was over him, fists wrapped in his tee-shirt as he straddled him.
“God, You’re so warm…I need--” He shoved Clark’s shirt up roughly, leaving long scratches on his pale skin, pressed his palms against his chest and Clark screamed, thought he did—his mouth was wide and nothing came out. He was paralyzed with fear, and pain. The ice cut into his body, and the unwelcome touch sliced into his soul.
Sean chuckled as he pinned Clark and forced his mouth down over his, moaning into his mouth as he did and he sucked…. The pain soared higher higher, Clark thought he could actually hear ice forming and suddenly—Sean was gone.
Whit stood over him, rage twisting his features, the thick branch of driftwood in his hands, “you okay--”
With a snarl, he whirled around, and hit Sean again just as he leaped at Clark—hit him hard enough to stagger him back, onto the very edge of the lake. Whit rushed him, and Clark joined him, and they pushed the boy off his feet, into the cold water of the lake.
He threw his head back and screamed as ice formed and cracked, reformed around him, pulling him beneath the water. The surface of the lake froze around, over him…he was completely incased in ice—frozen and still.
Clark dropped to his knees, and threw up, shaking in the aftermath of the assault. Whit ran to his side.
“I saw you leave, and Sean follow and I know—I don’t trust him. I know what he does—well…not that. Fuck.” He looked at the lake. “I don’t know what the fuck that was.” He helped Clark up, looped an arm under his. “Come on kid, I’m taking you home.”
“Let go, I’m fine,” and the weak push against Whit proved that he was anything but. He shivered and shivered, and every place Sean had touched him burned—his mouth felt puffy and raw, and Whit hissed when he saw Clark’s face clearly. “Besides, Chloe can take me home—and what about Lana?”
“She can ride with Chloe. I’ll tell her. You need to be home now.”
Clark wasn’t a complete fool. He knew when to give in. “Okay.” He said and leaned a little on Whit. If he leaned a little more than necessary, Whit didn’t seem to notice. Clark shivered and shivered, and Whit lifted his arm, put it over Clark’s shoulder and it was wonderfully warm.
*****
Chloe slammed her little boot heels into the boards as she stomped across the loft floor, and threw herself down on the couch hard enough to bounce Clark and Buddy-- Buddy wuffed in surprise.
“Choe—don’t do that, you’ll set the dust free.”
Chloe yanked down the top of the book Clark was reading—trying to read. “He’s gone."
“What? Who?”
“Sean…The Lad in the Lake—he’s gone. The lake isn’t frozen anymore and the ice-mans gone.”
Clark stared at Chloe.
“I bet,” she said, eyes narrowed and staring past Clark, “these things are connected somehow. Bug Boy, Ice-Man, mutated family pets and disappearing loved ones--someone is watching this stuff too. I wonder who.”
Clark shrugged, and gently redirected her attention to other matters.
*******
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/…
Rating: 3
Summary: This is an alternate universe version of Smallville. Surprise!
The Previous Parts are here, trying to revive their mommy, who has collaped trying to squeeze this bit out of her heart's blood....
Sorrow
Clark and Chloe were sitting at their table in the Beanery, heads together as she explained once again what was so special about the oddities that popped up in Smallville.
“I think—and I can’t get my dad to agree—but I think old Luthor is using that factory in ways it shouldn’t be. Look, see this? It’s records of shipments to the factory, stuff that doesn’t actually show up anywhere in the place--” she spread papers over the table top, papers that were imprinted with the LuthorCorp letter head… “like a lot of state of the art medical equipment. Unless Plant 3 has the most outrageously generous employee benefits package on the planet….”
“Chloe! You stole these from your dad!”
“No I didn’t—he doesn’t know anything about these. I found it on my own.”
“Chloe—someday you’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful!”
“Oh please--” she quickly shoved the papers back into her backpack at the sound of footsteps behind them.
“Hello you two.” Clark shivered and looked up into Lana’s eyes. She had her arm linked through Whit’s and was smiling ear to ear. “I wanted to ask you to come to the party tonight, oh, and you too, Clark. By the way, can I talk to you later, Chloe? I have some things concerning Spirit Week we need in the paper.”
Clark looked at his friend. “Yes, Chloe--remember—the *school* paper? The one you are editor of?”
Chloe looked annoyed, but smiled, in a slightly feral way. “I hear you, FB. Okay, Lana, we’ll see you tonight. Whit. How's everything?”
Whit loomed over Lana’s shoulder, and Clark tried to shrink inside his clothes. He slid his arm around Lana’s waist, looked at Clark and said, “Fine. I’m fine.”
“Well…good,” Chloe replied and raised her eyebrows at Clark. “Okay…I’m leaving now.”
Clark blushed and emptied his juice box with an embarrassingly loud noise. Whit smiled for a lightning quick moment before scowling again.
“Well, good, we’ll see you to tonight—oh, by the way,” Lana said with a distinctly unhappy expression, “Sean’s been looking for you.”
Chloe squeaked, “Me? That putz--”
“No, actually, he was asking about Clark.”
*********
Chloe and Clark wandered around the lakeside, sipping soda from the big red plastic cups being passed out from the back of a truck. She chattered on about this and that—pretty pointedly trying to distract Clark. Clark nodded, and tried to laugh in the right places, but he kept glancing back to the ring of vehicles parked with their lights shining on the lake.
Whitney and Lana were sitting side by side in the bed of his truck, wrapped in a blanket, giggling and kissing and obviously oblivious to what was going on around them. Clark stood still and watched….
“Clark!”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry—were you talking to me?”
“Clark…” she laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Honey, give it up. That guy’s straight like the ocean’s wet.”
He dipped his head and nodded. “I..I guess. I just hoped…you know.”
She squeezed him again and said, “Listen—I’m grabbing something to drink and I’ll be back, okay?”
Clark nodded, watched her bounce away, and smiled. She was a good friend. He walked around the shore a little, skirting the fire pit, hoped he wouldn’t run into Sean…
wondered exactly what he wanted with him. Sean made him uneasy--he’d caught him more times than seemed coincidental staring at him. Clark snorted. Why couldn’t someone he found attractive eyeball him? He strolled on, slowly edging back into the darkness, wishing he was home.
“Hello, Clark.”
“Pete--” It was a jolt, a shock to actually speak to Pete after all this time. He waited for the familiar stab of heartbreak to pierce him, staring into Pete’s handsome face, looking into his bottomless dark eyes…but it didn’t come. A small smile bowed his lips, he was grateful not to have the pain.
Pete smiled back. “Having a good time, Clark?”
Clark shrugged. “You know me Pete. I’m not really crazy about stuff like this.”
“Well…” Pete looked unsure. “I hope you manage to have a good time, Clark. That Sean guy is asking about you. I told him I haven’t seen you.” He looked a little concerned. “He’s not a good guy, Clark. I’ve heard stuff about him.”
“Pete, thanks for looking out, but I’m a big boy. I can probably handle Sean.”
Pete swallowed and shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so.” He hesitated and then said, “Talk to you later Clark.”
Clark replied, "I’d like that Pete, if we did."
He waved and headed back towards the lakeside.
Clark turned towards the group in the headlights just in time to see Whit and Lana kiss each other like they were never going to have another chance. A trick of the light made them seem highlighted—as if he were standing right next to them, could hear every sound they made….
Clark slumped, felt like an idiot. He walked deeper into the dark, around to the far shore of the lake. He stood alone; the bonfire on the shore was now distant flickers of light dancing upwards. Here where it was dark, the light of the moon turned everything a slivery gray, dashes of sliver danced on the wavelets running over the surface of the lake. There was the faintest sound of water lapping at the edge of the lake, laughter and music, the occasional beep of a horn. His own breath sounded loud in his ears, and he shivered, not really cold—never really cold—just…an odd feeling ran up his spine.
A twig cracked, and leaves shuffled as someone came towards him from the dark. “Hey Clark…” Sean staggered forward, his arms wrapped around himself and a distinctly unwell grimace on his face. He looked blue, his lips curled back from his teeth when Clark gasped.
“Sean. What are you doing out here in the dark?”
“Nothing. Just…” He looked Clark up and down again, in that slow crawl of a stare that made Clark want to scrub every bit of his skin. “Whit is never going to be what you want, you know. Not as long as he has Lana—not as long as he’s in Smallville.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Sean laughed, sharp, high--walked closer. “You know. I can help you. I can help you not to care anymore.”
“What do you want Sean?”
“Me? I just want to get warm….” Sean groaned when he said it, and reached out and touched Clark’s shoulder and his touch burned—pure and biting, like Lana’s necklace had felt against his skin. He jerked away and gasped as he watched ice form on his jacket, his skin….
“I’m sorry Clark but—I can feel you. I felt you from across the lake. You’re so warm. Hot. I need you,” he groaned.
Clark turned, dashed away along the lakeshore; and stumbled over a pile of blackened driftwood pieces. He snatched a thick branch from sand, and turned to face Sean.
“What are you, some kind of hero? Stupid move, Kent—should have kept running.”
Clark swung, connected, and Sean jerked away with a howl of anger and pain. There was a moment in which Clark’s heart soared—he was safe! He was going to get away—and then he was falling, feet tangled in the driftwood. The branch flew wide, and he fell heavily to the wet sand. Sean was over him, fists wrapped in his tee-shirt as he straddled him.
“God, You’re so warm…I need--” He shoved Clark’s shirt up roughly, leaving long scratches on his pale skin, pressed his palms against his chest and Clark screamed, thought he did—his mouth was wide and nothing came out. He was paralyzed with fear, and pain. The ice cut into his body, and the unwelcome touch sliced into his soul.
Sean chuckled as he pinned Clark and forced his mouth down over his, moaning into his mouth as he did and he sucked…. The pain soared higher higher, Clark thought he could actually hear ice forming and suddenly—Sean was gone.
Whit stood over him, rage twisting his features, the thick branch of driftwood in his hands, “you okay--”
With a snarl, he whirled around, and hit Sean again just as he leaped at Clark—hit him hard enough to stagger him back, onto the very edge of the lake. Whit rushed him, and Clark joined him, and they pushed the boy off his feet, into the cold water of the lake.
He threw his head back and screamed as ice formed and cracked, reformed around him, pulling him beneath the water. The surface of the lake froze around, over him…he was completely incased in ice—frozen and still.
Clark dropped to his knees, and threw up, shaking in the aftermath of the assault. Whit ran to his side.
“I saw you leave, and Sean follow and I know—I don’t trust him. I know what he does—well…not that. Fuck.” He looked at the lake. “I don’t know what the fuck that was.” He helped Clark up, looped an arm under his. “Come on kid, I’m taking you home.”
“Let go, I’m fine,” and the weak push against Whit proved that he was anything but. He shivered and shivered, and every place Sean had touched him burned—his mouth felt puffy and raw, and Whit hissed when he saw Clark’s face clearly. “Besides, Chloe can take me home—and what about Lana?”
“She can ride with Chloe. I’ll tell her. You need to be home now.”
Clark wasn’t a complete fool. He knew when to give in. “Okay.” He said and leaned a little on Whit. If he leaned a little more than necessary, Whit didn’t seem to notice. Clark shivered and shivered, and Whit lifted his arm, put it over Clark’s shoulder and it was wonderfully warm.
*****
Chloe slammed her little boot heels into the boards as she stomped across the loft floor, and threw herself down on the couch hard enough to bounce Clark and Buddy-- Buddy wuffed in surprise.
“Choe—don’t do that, you’ll set the dust free.”
Chloe yanked down the top of the book Clark was reading—trying to read. “He’s gone."
“What? Who?”
“Sean…The Lad in the Lake—he’s gone. The lake isn’t frozen anymore and the ice-mans gone.”
Clark stared at Chloe.
“I bet,” she said, eyes narrowed and staring past Clark, “these things are connected somehow. Bug Boy, Ice-Man, mutated family pets and disappearing loved ones--someone is watching this stuff too. I wonder who.”
Clark shrugged, and gently redirected her attention to other matters.
*******
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