sv fic post: East of the Sun part 12
3/4/08 02:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: East of the Sun
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:PG
Word Count:1109
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!
This is a tiny update, next update will be a little bigger, promise. This part brings big changes for Clark.
He couldn't. He tried, but he couldn't. Life was too different. He was different. There was ice inside him that wouldn't melt. His sister suffered because of him, the change in him worried his parents, and that made him feel guilty and the guilt made him angry and the anger made him feel guilt and….
He'd thought he wanted to be like them—the normals. He thought being them would make life easy, and that being normal would mean not feeling the dull grind in his bones every day, the constant lick of nausea, just--so *freakish* all the time. The football team and their little prank took all the desire to be normal away, took away his belief that it was possible, took church away, school away, love…music….
He could be more. Without the necklace, he could be better than them. They'd never hurt him in any way again, without the necklace. He had dreams where he lost it, or took if off himself—dreams filled with darkness and smoke and red—red like sundown, red like fires, like blood.
Whitney was the last straw. That one thing that makes all other things seem like little jokes. He stopped Clark in the hallway one day, a day after the play "Good News" was presented in the student auditorium/lunchroom/gym, without Clark Kent's participation.
"I—I'm sorry."
Clark looked at him—he could feel how wide his eyes were, how wide he was smiling at Whitney. This was the big joke—the funniest joke yet. Whitney was staring back at him, and slowly beginning to look…angry. And maybe, a little scared. "Whitney…Whitney…go to hell."
"I deserve it—"
"I have to go." Clark turned and walked away. He hated that he had to walk away from Whitney because he wanted so much to stay, to hear what Whitney had to say…he was so damn weak.
He told his parents. In a moment of weakness, he told them all about being hung on the cross—but just that. His mom and dad had been horrified, and devastated. They wanted to know why it happened, this thing, why they'd chosen him. Why Whit would even let the football team treat him like that. Clark had lied and said he didn’t know, and Hannah didn't disagree. Dad had been especially upset and blamed himself.
"If you hadn't been standing out, Clark, it wouldn't have happened. That's what happens when they notice you. I'm sorry, son. I should have been stronger but…you were so. So happy." He looked lost. Clark had never seen his dad look less than confident. Clark watched his dad twist the bandana in his hand and wished….
When he was little, his dad knew everything. He was the smartest, bravest, best fixer of everything in the world…why couldn't it be like that still? Why couldn't his dad still fix it? His mom wiped her eyes, forgetting about the flour on her hands, and getting it on her forehead, in her hair…she went back to her bread, kneading it savagely. "It will pass, Clark. People will forget about what happened, and everything will be back to normal."
Sure, Mom. It's going to go right back to the way it was. It'll be swell, aces, like a Busby Berkley movie and…and…."I know, Mom."
She turned to him and smiled—the effect was ruined just a bit by the way her lip shook. "Our life will be the same as it was, and you'll find new friends. I'm sorry Whit wasn't who he seemed to be."
Hannah made the barest sound. "I'm going to listen to the radio, if I may." She slid from her chair and looked at her feet. "It's…it's going to get better, Clark. I can feel it." Her hair curtained her face, but Clark knew she was crying.
"I believe that, Hannah. I know it." She shook her head and went into the parlor. After a minute or two, they could hear the opening theme of Doc Savage.
Dad listened, a puzzled look on his face. "Doc Savage? What happened to Little Orphan Annie?"
Clark muttered, "That was last year, Dad." Dad shook his head and pulled his barn jacket on.
"You coming, Clark?"
"Yes, sir." They were going to feed the cows, and lock up the henhouse, close the gates on the far field—do things in a few hours Clark knew he could do in minutes, if not for…he touched the necklace behind his undershirt and sweater…. Before he walked out the door, his mom asked him to wait.
"Clark…does this…thing that happened have anything to do with Lana?" She winced a little and smiled sadly.
"No Mom. I can tell you, it has nothing at all to do with her." He smiled back and walked out to follow his dad.
@@@@@@
Hannah woke up terribly miserable, lost and crying. Her head hurt just awful, and she wanted so badly to run to Clark's Fortress of Solitude and ask for hugs and songs, but she just rolled over and held her cat. There was no point in going, anyway. She didn't have to see it, she knew…. Clark wasn't there anymore.
@@@@@@
Clark slipped down the steps and walked across the yard with the moon lighting the way. He heard the normal barnyard noises, heard Monkey's curious wuffle, not quite a bark. He smiled. Apparently Monkey was too tired to find out what Clark was doing up at that hour…. He walked into the kitchen and laid the cross on the table, on top of the note he'd written for his folks along with another for Hannah. He grabbed his pack and left the kitchen--headed for the road. He stopped and breathed deeply, looked up at his sister's window, wondered if she was awake. He shook his head, and wiped his eyes. If he was going to leave, now was the time. He trotted down the drive and, this time, Monkey did bark out loud. He ran a little faster, and Monkey came out from the barn barking, running towards him. "Sorry, boy," and he took off. He ran—ran! It was the fastest he'd ever run before—he'd never run so far without the necklace on, that he could remember. It was—frightening. He had to stop every few miles and catch his breath. His heart pounded so hard and his mouth was so dry…. After a while, he started paying attention to what happened when he ran. It was beautiful, in a way. It was a whole new world—a frozen slice of world, that belonged to him alone. He began to enjoy it.
part 13
TBC
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:PG
Word Count:1109
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!This is a tiny update, next update will be a little bigger, promise. This part brings big changes for Clark.
He couldn't. He tried, but he couldn't. Life was too different. He was different. There was ice inside him that wouldn't melt. His sister suffered because of him, the change in him worried his parents, and that made him feel guilty and the guilt made him angry and the anger made him feel guilt and….
He'd thought he wanted to be like them—the normals. He thought being them would make life easy, and that being normal would mean not feeling the dull grind in his bones every day, the constant lick of nausea, just--so *freakish* all the time. The football team and their little prank took all the desire to be normal away, took away his belief that it was possible, took church away, school away, love…music….
He could be more. Without the necklace, he could be better than them. They'd never hurt him in any way again, without the necklace. He had dreams where he lost it, or took if off himself—dreams filled with darkness and smoke and red—red like sundown, red like fires, like blood.
Whitney was the last straw. That one thing that makes all other things seem like little jokes. He stopped Clark in the hallway one day, a day after the play "Good News" was presented in the student auditorium/lunchroom/gym, without Clark Kent's participation.
"I—I'm sorry."
Clark looked at him—he could feel how wide his eyes were, how wide he was smiling at Whitney. This was the big joke—the funniest joke yet. Whitney was staring back at him, and slowly beginning to look…angry. And maybe, a little scared. "Whitney…Whitney…go to hell."
"I deserve it—"
"I have to go." Clark turned and walked away. He hated that he had to walk away from Whitney because he wanted so much to stay, to hear what Whitney had to say…he was so damn weak.
He told his parents. In a moment of weakness, he told them all about being hung on the cross—but just that. His mom and dad had been horrified, and devastated. They wanted to know why it happened, this thing, why they'd chosen him. Why Whit would even let the football team treat him like that. Clark had lied and said he didn’t know, and Hannah didn't disagree. Dad had been especially upset and blamed himself.
"If you hadn't been standing out, Clark, it wouldn't have happened. That's what happens when they notice you. I'm sorry, son. I should have been stronger but…you were so. So happy." He looked lost. Clark had never seen his dad look less than confident. Clark watched his dad twist the bandana in his hand and wished….
When he was little, his dad knew everything. He was the smartest, bravest, best fixer of everything in the world…why couldn't it be like that still? Why couldn't his dad still fix it? His mom wiped her eyes, forgetting about the flour on her hands, and getting it on her forehead, in her hair…she went back to her bread, kneading it savagely. "It will pass, Clark. People will forget about what happened, and everything will be back to normal."
Sure, Mom. It's going to go right back to the way it was. It'll be swell, aces, like a Busby Berkley movie and…and…."I know, Mom."
She turned to him and smiled—the effect was ruined just a bit by the way her lip shook. "Our life will be the same as it was, and you'll find new friends. I'm sorry Whit wasn't who he seemed to be."
Hannah made the barest sound. "I'm going to listen to the radio, if I may." She slid from her chair and looked at her feet. "It's…it's going to get better, Clark. I can feel it." Her hair curtained her face, but Clark knew she was crying.
"I believe that, Hannah. I know it." She shook her head and went into the parlor. After a minute or two, they could hear the opening theme of Doc Savage.
Dad listened, a puzzled look on his face. "Doc Savage? What happened to Little Orphan Annie?"
Clark muttered, "That was last year, Dad." Dad shook his head and pulled his barn jacket on.
"You coming, Clark?"
"Yes, sir." They were going to feed the cows, and lock up the henhouse, close the gates on the far field—do things in a few hours Clark knew he could do in minutes, if not for…he touched the necklace behind his undershirt and sweater…. Before he walked out the door, his mom asked him to wait.
"Clark…does this…thing that happened have anything to do with Lana?" She winced a little and smiled sadly.
"No Mom. I can tell you, it has nothing at all to do with her." He smiled back and walked out to follow his dad.
@@@@@@
Hannah woke up terribly miserable, lost and crying. Her head hurt just awful, and she wanted so badly to run to Clark's Fortress of Solitude and ask for hugs and songs, but she just rolled over and held her cat. There was no point in going, anyway. She didn't have to see it, she knew…. Clark wasn't there anymore.
@@@@@@
Clark slipped down the steps and walked across the yard with the moon lighting the way. He heard the normal barnyard noises, heard Monkey's curious wuffle, not quite a bark. He smiled. Apparently Monkey was too tired to find out what Clark was doing up at that hour…. He walked into the kitchen and laid the cross on the table, on top of the note he'd written for his folks along with another for Hannah. He grabbed his pack and left the kitchen--headed for the road. He stopped and breathed deeply, looked up at his sister's window, wondered if she was awake. He shook his head, and wiped his eyes. If he was going to leave, now was the time. He trotted down the drive and, this time, Monkey did bark out loud. He ran a little faster, and Monkey came out from the barn barking, running towards him. "Sorry, boy," and he took off. He ran—ran! It was the fastest he'd ever run before—he'd never run so far without the necklace on, that he could remember. It was—frightening. He had to stop every few miles and catch his breath. His heart pounded so hard and his mouth was so dry…. After a while, he started paying attention to what happened when he ran. It was beautiful, in a way. It was a whole new world—a frozen slice of world, that belonged to him alone. He began to enjoy it.
part 13
TBC
Tags:
Just once I want a story where Clark grows up happy and secure with his abilities
3/4/08 01:25 pm (UTC)coz i have recced that story here:
http://theme-clex-recs.livejournal.com/4670.html
and its pretty much as i wrote, clark in that fic, is pretty happy with his powers, and the rest of the world, and is guiltfree.
Re: Just once I want a story where Clark grows up happy and secure with his abilities
3/4/08 09:56 pm (UTC)yep , thats true
3/5/08 11:48 am (UTC)that he would get in trouble bound to his abilities would be happened in any universe.
but the difference is, would he want to get rid of the abilities, or praying for never having them, and that doesnt felt like that in IP series.