Birthday Wishes for roxymissrose!
Wishing a Very Happy Birthday to roxymissrose!
This is a Smallville ficlet told through a series of drabbles (100 words each) and diverges early on in Season 3 and also diverges from the Doomsday story.
Special thanks goes to ecto_gammat and irisbleufic for their betas and expertise.
Can now be found on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/933632
Slowly, Lex Luthor turns to stare at the television mounted on the far wall after the first reporter dares claim Superman is dead, killed by the creature the media christened Doomsday. He chalks it all up to people’s macabre need for sensationalism until he sees LIVE footage of Lois Lane falling to her knees beside Superman. It isn’t until Lex notices parts of the news feed blurred out -images too graphic for television- that everything becomes real.
Lex arrives as Lois gently lowers Superman’s body to the ground, the gesture one of finality.
Faces blur.
It isn’t Lois who screams.
~*~
Clark Kent is listed among Metropolis’ unfortunate dead. It makes sense. Where Clark goes, Superman follows. The more sordid news agencies have hinted that something untoward has existed between the pair for years now. The greatest love story never told. Lex would laugh if it isn’t so utterly ridiculous.
He longs to hate Clark for his grief. He can’t. So he hates Clark for their past instead. Too many lies and betrayals formed an irreparable chasm between them. And yet Lex guarded Clark’s secret -mostly out of spite- it doesn’t explain why Superman’s true identity remains a mystery even now.
~*~
Lex is quoted saying that if he couldn't kill Superman, then he at least wanted to bury him. So he does. There’s rumors circulating it’s done with nefarious purposes in mind. Perhaps that’s true. The world will never know.
The body is stolen. In its place rise four supermen. But not Clark.
Lex’s interest wanes until one of them goes on a demented, murderous rampage. Strategically aimed kryptonite bullets shot from a custom made high-powered rifle do the trick.
Wind lifts the avenging angel’s black duster, whirling it around him.
The weapon clatters to the ground. Lex never looks back.
~*~
The new savior of Metropolis is quickly heralded as a hero, although his identity remains elusive. Many come forward. None are credible. It’s even suggested the black clad avenger is the grieving Lois Lane in disguise.
Lex returns to Smallville. He goes into hiding to lick his wounds in the last place he had ever considered home.
That evening he visits the graveyard where Jonathan Kent was laid to rest and where Martha has commissioned a headstone for Clark. He brings flowers.
Clark isn’t there, of course. But in Smallville, at least, his memory shines as bright as the sun.
~*~
Weeks later, and it’s raining. By design, there are no servants in attendance at the mansion. So when the pounding at the door comes, it’s Lex who opens it, revealing Clark, clutching his stomach, shivering, his body trembling with exhaustion.
Clark’s hair is wet, and longer than Lex has ever seen it.
“Lex?” Clark's voice sounds strangely young.
Lex’s mind flounders, breaks. He’s gripping the door frame for support, struggling to see through spreading black stars.
It isn’t Lex’s, but Clark’s knees that buckle. It snaps Lex back. Suddenly his arms are around Clark. “I got you. I’ve got you.”
~*~
The real Superman returns. There’s much fighting and explosions and chaos enough to hold the public’s interest. And Lex’s world begins spinning on its axis again. The mystery of the unknown savior of Metropolis is never solved. Nor is he ever seen again.
There are many unanswered questions surrounding the resurrection of Superman, but it’s later explained that his alien DNA enabled him to absorb solar energy, providing what was necessary to restart his heart after one of the four supermen, known as the Eradicator took his body. It’s all very far-fetched. For once, Lex doesn’t press, question, or argue.
~*~
A sudden shift changes Lex’s priorities. Second chances have a way of doing that, tending to bring what matters most into sharper focus. Clark becomes a cautious part of his life again.
And Superman is ever present.
Emergencies come and go. So does Clark, with ever increasing frequency. He ducks his head, flushing like a teenager the entire time he bids one of his hasty retreats.
Lex lets him go with an indulgent “Have fun.”
Whether Clark pays attention, Lex isn’t certain.
The society pages gleefully report Lex Luthor’s comeuppance in being spurned yet again for the Man of Steel.
~*~
There's a shift in Lex's wardrobe. Blacks are replaced by dark grays. Dark grays become purples. Purples fade until one day he meets Clark at The Daily Planet wearing a light blue shirt and dark slacks under a black coat.
Smirks give way to grins. Grins stretch into smiles.
The changes happen slowly, eroding sharp edges. No one seems to notice.
The elevator opens and Lex catches Clark's gaze from across the newsroom. Lips quirking, he returns the gaze, his expression warm.
Clark smiles wide. He pushes his glasses back against the bridge of his nose, and grabs his jacket.
~*~
The rare confrontations with Superman are almost genial. Almost.
Superman sets him down. The landing isn’t gentle. He lectures exactly like Clark.
Lex uses the time to straighten his clothes after the impromptu snatch and grab.
Superman stops long enough to will Lex’s attention back to him. “You’re not listening.”
Hands in his pockets, there’s a grim set to Lex’s jaw. “On the contrary, I’ve been following your diatribe with interest.”
When Superman grips his shoulders, it catches Lex by surprise.
"I'm not giving up on you, Lex."
It’s the first time Superman calls him Lex, but not the last.
~*~
Clark’s standing beside him when he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
The bullet flies and Clark reaches out as though he intends to stop time.
Clark's glasses are knocked off when he falls.
Lex doesn’t notice, isn’t thinking, forgets everything he knows.
He comes back to himself when a winded, bespectacled Clark drags Lex back against his chest. Shakes him. “I’m okay. I--tripped.”
Lex’s breath comes in gulps. Recovering, he leans back and huffs out a laugh. His hand covers Clark’s. He plays the game as though he were born to it. He was.
"Klutz."
~*~
There’s too many places to be at once when a hostage situation at The Daily Planet goes terribly, terribly wrong.
It’s been a very long night tracking Clark back to Smallville. Unsure where to look or what to do, Lex swallows hard, keeps his hands inside his pockets.
Clark’s stopped pacing a hole through the loft floor, but now he’s trembling so badly he might be shaking apart.
“I wish I could alter time.”
It’s not a confession, but it’s the closest Clark has ever come.
Lex can’t stop himself from pushing forward and gently enfolding Clark in an embrace.
~*~
He’s dead before he hits the water, already flying when hands lift him from the wreckage.
"Lex?!"
No words connect concepts. The world hiccups.
He's no longer flying, but driving. Clark is standing in the middle of the road, and Lex slams on his brakes.
Heart racing, he jumps out of the car. “Clark!”
Clark’s eyes are bright.
"What’s wrong?”
Pupils blown, Clark simply stares.
Lex tilts his head. “Where are your glasses?"
He’s pulled forward, kissed hard, desperate.
“For all my abilities, I couldn’t save you.”
Lex’s eyes snap open to find Clark searching his face, gauging his reaction.
~*~
Lex's reputation precedes him. Sparks fly and minions scatter as he points a very large gun at the newest threat’s head. Glowering, he spares a quick glance toward the kryptonite-lined cage. Snarling in a fit of pique, he smashes his weapon against the madman’s temple.
Tossing the gun, he stalks forward unheeded.
Lex reaches the prisoner, and brushes bloodied knuckles against Superman's jaw. The soft moan is encouraging.
"...love you..."
"You're delirious," Lex chides, straining against the bars, working at deconstructing the hinges. "I don’t know about you, Clark, but I think we deserve a break from this destiny business."
This is a Smallville ficlet told through a series of drabbles (100 words each) and diverges early on in Season 3 and also diverges from the Doomsday story.
Special thanks goes to ecto_gammat and irisbleufic for their betas and expertise.
Can now be found on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/933632
Slowly, Lex Luthor turns to stare at the television mounted on the far wall after the first reporter dares claim Superman is dead, killed by the creature the media christened Doomsday. He chalks it all up to people’s macabre need for sensationalism until he sees LIVE footage of Lois Lane falling to her knees beside Superman. It isn’t until Lex notices parts of the news feed blurred out -images too graphic for television- that everything becomes real.
Lex arrives as Lois gently lowers Superman’s body to the ground, the gesture one of finality.
Faces blur.
It isn’t Lois who screams.
~*~
Clark Kent is listed among Metropolis’ unfortunate dead. It makes sense. Where Clark goes, Superman follows. The more sordid news agencies have hinted that something untoward has existed between the pair for years now. The greatest love story never told. Lex would laugh if it isn’t so utterly ridiculous.
He longs to hate Clark for his grief. He can’t. So he hates Clark for their past instead. Too many lies and betrayals formed an irreparable chasm between them. And yet Lex guarded Clark’s secret -mostly out of spite- it doesn’t explain why Superman’s true identity remains a mystery even now.
~*~
Lex is quoted saying that if he couldn't kill Superman, then he at least wanted to bury him. So he does. There’s rumors circulating it’s done with nefarious purposes in mind. Perhaps that’s true. The world will never know.
The body is stolen. In its place rise four supermen. But not Clark.
Lex’s interest wanes until one of them goes on a demented, murderous rampage. Strategically aimed kryptonite bullets shot from a custom made high-powered rifle do the trick.
Wind lifts the avenging angel’s black duster, whirling it around him.
The weapon clatters to the ground. Lex never looks back.
~*~
The new savior of Metropolis is quickly heralded as a hero, although his identity remains elusive. Many come forward. None are credible. It’s even suggested the black clad avenger is the grieving Lois Lane in disguise.
Lex returns to Smallville. He goes into hiding to lick his wounds in the last place he had ever considered home.
That evening he visits the graveyard where Jonathan Kent was laid to rest and where Martha has commissioned a headstone for Clark. He brings flowers.
Clark isn’t there, of course. But in Smallville, at least, his memory shines as bright as the sun.
~*~
Weeks later, and it’s raining. By design, there are no servants in attendance at the mansion. So when the pounding at the door comes, it’s Lex who opens it, revealing Clark, clutching his stomach, shivering, his body trembling with exhaustion.
Clark’s hair is wet, and longer than Lex has ever seen it.
“Lex?” Clark's voice sounds strangely young.
Lex’s mind flounders, breaks. He’s gripping the door frame for support, struggling to see through spreading black stars.
It isn’t Lex’s, but Clark’s knees that buckle. It snaps Lex back. Suddenly his arms are around Clark. “I got you. I’ve got you.”
~*~
The real Superman returns. There’s much fighting and explosions and chaos enough to hold the public’s interest. And Lex’s world begins spinning on its axis again. The mystery of the unknown savior of Metropolis is never solved. Nor is he ever seen again.
There are many unanswered questions surrounding the resurrection of Superman, but it’s later explained that his alien DNA enabled him to absorb solar energy, providing what was necessary to restart his heart after one of the four supermen, known as the Eradicator took his body. It’s all very far-fetched. For once, Lex doesn’t press, question, or argue.
~*~
A sudden shift changes Lex’s priorities. Second chances have a way of doing that, tending to bring what matters most into sharper focus. Clark becomes a cautious part of his life again.
And Superman is ever present.
Emergencies come and go. So does Clark, with ever increasing frequency. He ducks his head, flushing like a teenager the entire time he bids one of his hasty retreats.
Lex lets him go with an indulgent “Have fun.”
Whether Clark pays attention, Lex isn’t certain.
The society pages gleefully report Lex Luthor’s comeuppance in being spurned yet again for the Man of Steel.
~*~
There's a shift in Lex's wardrobe. Blacks are replaced by dark grays. Dark grays become purples. Purples fade until one day he meets Clark at The Daily Planet wearing a light blue shirt and dark slacks under a black coat.
Smirks give way to grins. Grins stretch into smiles.
The changes happen slowly, eroding sharp edges. No one seems to notice.
The elevator opens and Lex catches Clark's gaze from across the newsroom. Lips quirking, he returns the gaze, his expression warm.
Clark smiles wide. He pushes his glasses back against the bridge of his nose, and grabs his jacket.
~*~
The rare confrontations with Superman are almost genial. Almost.
Superman sets him down. The landing isn’t gentle. He lectures exactly like Clark.
Lex uses the time to straighten his clothes after the impromptu snatch and grab.
Superman stops long enough to will Lex’s attention back to him. “You’re not listening.”
Hands in his pockets, there’s a grim set to Lex’s jaw. “On the contrary, I’ve been following your diatribe with interest.”
When Superman grips his shoulders, it catches Lex by surprise.
"I'm not giving up on you, Lex."
It’s the first time Superman calls him Lex, but not the last.
~*~
Clark’s standing beside him when he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
The bullet flies and Clark reaches out as though he intends to stop time.
Clark's glasses are knocked off when he falls.
Lex doesn’t notice, isn’t thinking, forgets everything he knows.
He comes back to himself when a winded, bespectacled Clark drags Lex back against his chest. Shakes him. “I’m okay. I--tripped.”
Lex’s breath comes in gulps. Recovering, he leans back and huffs out a laugh. His hand covers Clark’s. He plays the game as though he were born to it. He was.
"Klutz."
~*~
There’s too many places to be at once when a hostage situation at The Daily Planet goes terribly, terribly wrong.
It’s been a very long night tracking Clark back to Smallville. Unsure where to look or what to do, Lex swallows hard, keeps his hands inside his pockets.
Clark’s stopped pacing a hole through the loft floor, but now he’s trembling so badly he might be shaking apart.
“I wish I could alter time.”
It’s not a confession, but it’s the closest Clark has ever come.
Lex can’t stop himself from pushing forward and gently enfolding Clark in an embrace.
~*~
He’s dead before he hits the water, already flying when hands lift him from the wreckage.
"Lex?!"
No words connect concepts. The world hiccups.
He's no longer flying, but driving. Clark is standing in the middle of the road, and Lex slams on his brakes.
Heart racing, he jumps out of the car. “Clark!”
Clark’s eyes are bright.
"What’s wrong?”
Pupils blown, Clark simply stares.
Lex tilts his head. “Where are your glasses?"
He’s pulled forward, kissed hard, desperate.
“For all my abilities, I couldn’t save you.”
Lex’s eyes snap open to find Clark searching his face, gauging his reaction.
~*~
Lex's reputation precedes him. Sparks fly and minions scatter as he points a very large gun at the newest threat’s head. Glowering, he spares a quick glance toward the kryptonite-lined cage. Snarling in a fit of pique, he smashes his weapon against the madman’s temple.
Tossing the gun, he stalks forward unheeded.
Lex reaches the prisoner, and brushes bloodied knuckles against Superman's jaw. The soft moan is encouraging.
"...love you..."
"You're delirious," Lex chides, straining against the bars, working at deconstructing the hinges. "I don’t know about you, Clark, but I think we deserve a break from this destiny business."