50 eps-SV
Prompt-24/Last
480 wds
This is actually pretty much worked out in my head, it's just a matter of getting it onto paper. It's sort of a victim of my issues with long fic-but I'm working on them, so there's hope for this.
Rain drummed a soft staccato on the tent sheltering the gravesite. The chairs surrounding the coffin were empty now. Security had cleared all funeral goers and reporters earlier, and with a soft whirr, the casket began to descend. Lex stood still as the stone statues surrounding him as they lowered the body of the last member of his family into the ground. He never turned as a figure moved beside him.
“And the Luthor name is no more. I’m the last one.” Something his father had raged about even on his death bed. He’d as a matter of course, blamed Clark for Lex’s refusal to procreate. Lionel had blamed Clark for almost ever decision his son had made that didn’t please him. “That farm boy’s influence” was heard so often, Lex was thinking of having a bumper sticker printed up. His father always managed to conveniently forget that Lex had been playing by his own rules long before he and Clark hooked up. He’d never fallen in line the way his father thought he would despite various underhanded maneuvers on the part of Lionel. Life was a constant battle with his father, and now it was over. He’d won by virtue of lasting longer, and the victory was as bitter as ash in his mouth.
Clark’s hand brushed against his, fingers tangling discreetly, and Lex allowed himself a brief moment of the emotionality his father abhorred, squeezing as hard as he could before letting go. He turned away and stepped out from under the shelter into the rain. His steps took him to the next grave- Lucas Luthor,1985-2013.
His brother had died indulging in two of the Luthor vices. Speed and alcohol. He’d died the way Lex should have-would have if it hadn’t been for Clark…hitting the side of bridge at over a 100 miles an hour. Over the years Lex had seen his brother occasionally, and his death had left him to mourn more for what could have been than for the man himself. He’d insisted on having Lucas buried in the Luthor family plot despite his father’s objections, and now he grinned slightly to himself. They would both hate the fact that they would spend eternity next to each other.
The rain came down harder now as he stood in front of his mother’s grave. He still missed her everyday, but deep in his heart of hearts he was finally content that she would be proud of the man he’d become. And he knew without a doubt that she would love Clark, if for no other reason, than without a doubt, Clark loved him. He looked over at the tall figure watching him from a distance, giving him privacy, silently offering support if needed and he smiled.
“Let’s go home” was murmured softly. He knew Clark would hear him, even over the cacophony of the increasing rain.
480 wds
This is actually pretty much worked out in my head, it's just a matter of getting it onto paper. It's sort of a victim of my issues with long fic-but I'm working on them, so there's hope for this.
Rain drummed a soft staccato on the tent sheltering the gravesite. The chairs surrounding the coffin were empty now. Security had cleared all funeral goers and reporters earlier, and with a soft whirr, the casket began to descend. Lex stood still as the stone statues surrounding him as they lowered the body of the last member of his family into the ground. He never turned as a figure moved beside him.
“And the Luthor name is no more. I’m the last one.” Something his father had raged about even on his death bed. He’d as a matter of course, blamed Clark for Lex’s refusal to procreate. Lionel had blamed Clark for almost ever decision his son had made that didn’t please him. “That farm boy’s influence” was heard so often, Lex was thinking of having a bumper sticker printed up. His father always managed to conveniently forget that Lex had been playing by his own rules long before he and Clark hooked up. He’d never fallen in line the way his father thought he would despite various underhanded maneuvers on the part of Lionel. Life was a constant battle with his father, and now it was over. He’d won by virtue of lasting longer, and the victory was as bitter as ash in his mouth.
Clark’s hand brushed against his, fingers tangling discreetly, and Lex allowed himself a brief moment of the emotionality his father abhorred, squeezing as hard as he could before letting go. He turned away and stepped out from under the shelter into the rain. His steps took him to the next grave- Lucas Luthor,1985-2013.
His brother had died indulging in two of the Luthor vices. Speed and alcohol. He’d died the way Lex should have-would have if it hadn’t been for Clark…hitting the side of bridge at over a 100 miles an hour. Over the years Lex had seen his brother occasionally, and his death had left him to mourn more for what could have been than for the man himself. He’d insisted on having Lucas buried in the Luthor family plot despite his father’s objections, and now he grinned slightly to himself. They would both hate the fact that they would spend eternity next to each other.
The rain came down harder now as he stood in front of his mother’s grave. He still missed her everyday, but deep in his heart of hearts he was finally content that she would be proud of the man he’d become. And he knew without a doubt that she would love Clark, if for no other reason, than without a doubt, Clark loved him. He looked over at the tall figure watching him from a distance, giving him privacy, silently offering support if needed and he smiled.
“Let’s go home” was murmured softly. He knew Clark would hear him, even over the cacophony of the increasing rain.