Fic: Almost, Smallville, Clark/Lex, PG-13
Title: Almost
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: PG-13 really really mild, I just always tend to rate high. Spoilers: none really.
Summary: Things almost change
Pairings: Clark/Lex
Disclaimer: I own none of this. If I did things would be very different, of course the show would have probably never been picked up, but that's another story. No profit is made, no copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note:This was my very first fic in the fandom. It was written over a year ago, but I still kind of like it, so here it is. The time-frame on this is really pretty irrelevant. It can have happened after almost any time that Lex has been injured. It's very short
Lex POV
Almost. I almost managed to make it through a week here without being bruised and battered. Oh well, at least it seems I am building up some kind of tolerance to it all. Well, the pain, the discomfort anyway. Not quite all, almost, but not quite. I haven't learned how to deal with the caring yet. It's unexpected, new for me.
I should have expected he would come. He always does. I can't quite bring myself to believe that he will keep on coming though. And yet, somewhere in the back of my head I must believe it. I wouldn't have foregone the pain pill, if I didn't know he would be here. They at least allow me to drift off into a calm place, but then I wouldn't be aware of him, of his comfort, and that's too precious to give up for a blank state.
"Come on Lex. I don't think anything's broken, but you ought to rest."
I wonder how he knows that nothing is broken, he hadn't even touched me yet. That's a problem for another day though, one when my mind is a little less fuzzy. Clark's voice is gentle and his hands are even more so, as he helps me up out of the chair. It's always like this. He touches me as if I were made of glass or a porcelain doll that he had to take care not to crush. Like I'm something delicate. I have a vague memory of being touched like that, but not since I was a small child, not since my mother died. A small almost laugh escapes me then, as I recognize the absurdity of thinking of Clark as being like my mother.
"What is it?"
Confusion, and that same worry or fear still lays heavily in Clark's voice. I'm not sure if he recognizes the sound as a laugh. "Nothing, I was just thinking that sometimes you remind me of my mother." I'm a little surprised at how weak my own voice sounds. Normally I never allow myself to sound this way, not even when I feel worse. It's okay with Clark. I know he won't use it against me. I glance up at him. The confusion and concern are still there but there's something else now too, disappointment maybe. I shouldn't have said anything. He doesn't understand.
We're both silent for the last few feet to my room. He walks with me over to the side of my bed, helps me to sit. The blush that is so uniquely Clark begins to rise in his cheeks, and I know what he's going to ask next.
"I...uhm...Lex, do you need any help?"
The words are just barely stammered out. If I felt better than I do, I might tease him, see if I could get that blush to deepen to scarlet. Right now, I just need rest. "I think I can handle it." Clark nods and starts to walk away.
"Clark, I didn't mean...Well...It's just that she's the only one who ever treated me like you do. Like I'm special. I don't think of you like my mother, Clark." I hadn't meant to say anything about this at all. I certainly didn't mean to say all of that. It gets dangerously close to things I might wish for, but never expect to see. Things better left unsaid. Clark just nods at me again and resumes his walk towards the door.
"I'm sorry, Lex." And this is a new voice. One I haven't heard before. The concern, almost fear for me are still the primary things in this voice, but something has been added. He sounds sad, and very tired, defeated almost. I don't like that sound coming from him.
"Clark, wait." That was a bit more forceful than I had intended, but he stops. I'm still fighting with the last of my buttons, but I can't let him leave like this. "What are you sorry about?" My voice was softer this time, more the tone I meant.
Clark hasn't turned around yet. He's just standing there with his back to me. I slip out of my shirt and under the blankets. "Please, just tell me."
Clark turns around slowly and that same pain is evident in his face. "I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry you got hurt and it's my fault. It's always my fault. You must hate being here. I'm sure you never got hurt like this in Metropolis."
God, he's near tears and I don't even understand half of this. How can he possibly think any of this is his fault. I smile at him. "No, in Metropolis most of the pain I felt was self-inflicted." My tone starts out light. I'm trying to distract him, but I can tell by his look that it's not working. I'll go with serious this time, "It's not your fault Clark. I can't imagine why you would think that. You've saved me and taken care of me, none of it is your fault."
Clark smiles at me just a little then and when he speaks he doesn't sound so broken. He sounds strong and good and pure, just like he always does. If there's a touch of sadness there it's just a touch. "Yes, it is. I wish I could explain it all to you." He has crossed the room again while he was speaking. He has reached one hand out, gently tracing along the side of my face, the site of my freshest bruising. The fingers just barely brush against my skin, and I think for a moment how easy it would be to turn my head, to change this touch into something more. I almost do it, but I'm not sure, not yet. I can't lose this boy, and I'm not sure that he wants me to change things. I'm not sure he wants to these gentle touches to move from the realm of caring concern and friendship into something more. I've never had this before you see. I don't know what it means. So instead I just speak once again. "You can tell me anything."
The smile on Clark's face widens at that. "Maybe. But not tonight. You need to sleep." Every last trace of melancholy is gone from his voice now. There is hope there instead. I almost call out to him as he walks away. I almost ask him to stay, to explain things to me. In the end, I let him go. We'll continue this another day.
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Clarks POV
I knew I'd find him here. In his study, in front of the fireplace. It's where he always is after. It's almost like he's waiting on me. It's okay if he is, I'll always come. I use my x-ray vision and quickly check for broken bones. His skeleton looks intact and I say as much as I help him up. I wonder if he noticed that, filed it away for future reference. I really should be more careful about what I say. I am around everyone else. But with Lex, it's almost like I want him to find out. I don't understand it, not really.
I'm worried about Lex, tonight. He's letting me help him, not putting up any fight about it. Usually I get at least one abrupt comment about how he's not a child. Tonight he's been silent, he seems fragile.
We're almost to his room when a small sound escapes his mouth. I thought at first that it was pain, but there's a soft smile on his face. so I ask him what it is.
"Nothing, I was just thinking that sometimes you remind me of my mother." His voice is a little weak, which also worries me. He never sounds like this. He seems to be moving around okay though, so maybe I just worry too much. I can't believe he just said I remind him of his mother. I'm not quite sure what to think about that. I mean on the one hand I know that she is the only person he ever really felt close to, so I guess that's good. On the other, she's his mother, and that really wasn't the kind of relationship I was hoping for here. Okay, so maybe I'm a little confused about just what kind of relationship I am hoping for, but I can guarantee it isn't anything even vaguely parental from either side.
We're in his room now. Usually I just leave him here, but he seems so helpless tonight. I guess, I should ask him if he needs any help. "I...uhm...Lex, do you need any help?" God, I sound like a moron. And I'm blushing. You would think I would have moved past that by now. And knowing Lex, he'll say something that will make this even worse.
"I think I can handle it." Lex is using his usual dry tone, which almost makes me blush harder, but I don't. I'm still not sure he's really okay, but he said he could handle it. I guess I should go. I manage to nod in his direction before I head towards the door.
I'm just a few steps away when I hear his voice again. "Clark, I didn't mean...Well...It's just that she's the only one who ever treated me like you do. Like I'm special. I don't think of you like my mother, Clark." I know how much it must have cost him to say this. He doesn't like to talk about her, or about the things he didn't have. He says he doesn't miss having a real family like mine, because he never had one in the first place. He had her though, so I think he's lying when he says that. The way he says the last bit there, I can almost here something in his voice there, something that would tell me how he does think of me. It almost tells me that he thinks of me as a friend or maybe something more. Almost, but I'm just not sure. I've never been good at reading Lex. He's different from everyone I've ever known. I want to say something and I almost do, but I don't know what words to use. So instead, I just nod again and start to walk away.
It hits me then that I'm responsible for all of this. If it weren't for me, my very existence, Lex would not be hurt. He'd be okay and safe. More than that actually. Everyone would be safe. It's my fault that they've all been hurt. I can't help it, I have to apologize for it all, even if he doesn't understand. "I'm Sorry, Lex."
I'm almost to the door when I hear his voice call me back again. He wants me to explain this to him. I can't of course, not really, not so he'll understand. But when he says "Please." in that tone of voice, I can't deny him an explanation, so I try. "I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry you got hurt and it's my fault. It's always my fault. You must hate being here. I'm sure you never got hurt like this in Metropolis." I can feel the tears start to well up, but I won't allow them to fall. I won't cry while I say this, it's my responsibility.
I see the confusion cross his face. He doesn't understand this, and I can't explain it to him. His voice is so gentle when he tells me that it's not my fault. I'm glad he believes that. He trusts me, and I didn't realize just how much I needed that until just now. I've crossed the room before I know it, and I brush my fingertips along the side of his face. I'm dangerously close to stepping over that line now. The invisible line between friendly concern and something else. A look crosses his face as I speak, indecision I think, and for a moment I'm sure that he'll turn his head allowing me to cradle his face with this hand. The look passes and he doesn't move. I wish he had. I want that contact. I almost allow myself to make it. Almost make my light touch stronger and surer. I want to stroke his injured skin, caress the flesh that has been haunting my dreams. I almost do it, but I can't. I'm just not sure. I'm not sure that it's what he wants and I couldn't handle it if he were to lose that trust in me. So I let my hand drop back to my side.
"You can tell me anything." Those words mean so much to me. I want to believe them. I think I do believe them, despite all of my parents warnings about letting people know what I am and letting Lex know in particular. I can trust him, the way that he trusts me. I can trust him not to hurt me. And I think that maybe I can trust us to cross that line, to change things.
"Maybe, but not tonight. You need to sleep." And I mean that. Maybe I can tell him anything, and maybe we will find out soon. I want to, but we're not ready yet. Almost, but not yet.
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: PG-13 really really mild, I just always tend to rate high. Spoilers: none really.
Summary: Things almost change
Pairings: Clark/Lex
Disclaimer: I own none of this. If I did things would be very different, of course the show would have probably never been picked up, but that's another story. No profit is made, no copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note:This was my very first fic in the fandom. It was written over a year ago, but I still kind of like it, so here it is. The time-frame on this is really pretty irrelevant. It can have happened after almost any time that Lex has been injured. It's very short
Lex POV
Almost. I almost managed to make it through a week here without being bruised and battered. Oh well, at least it seems I am building up some kind of tolerance to it all. Well, the pain, the discomfort anyway. Not quite all, almost, but not quite. I haven't learned how to deal with the caring yet. It's unexpected, new for me.
I should have expected he would come. He always does. I can't quite bring myself to believe that he will keep on coming though. And yet, somewhere in the back of my head I must believe it. I wouldn't have foregone the pain pill, if I didn't know he would be here. They at least allow me to drift off into a calm place, but then I wouldn't be aware of him, of his comfort, and that's too precious to give up for a blank state.
"Come on Lex. I don't think anything's broken, but you ought to rest."
I wonder how he knows that nothing is broken, he hadn't even touched me yet. That's a problem for another day though, one when my mind is a little less fuzzy. Clark's voice is gentle and his hands are even more so, as he helps me up out of the chair. It's always like this. He touches me as if I were made of glass or a porcelain doll that he had to take care not to crush. Like I'm something delicate. I have a vague memory of being touched like that, but not since I was a small child, not since my mother died. A small almost laugh escapes me then, as I recognize the absurdity of thinking of Clark as being like my mother.
"What is it?"
Confusion, and that same worry or fear still lays heavily in Clark's voice. I'm not sure if he recognizes the sound as a laugh. "Nothing, I was just thinking that sometimes you remind me of my mother." I'm a little surprised at how weak my own voice sounds. Normally I never allow myself to sound this way, not even when I feel worse. It's okay with Clark. I know he won't use it against me. I glance up at him. The confusion and concern are still there but there's something else now too, disappointment maybe. I shouldn't have said anything. He doesn't understand.
We're both silent for the last few feet to my room. He walks with me over to the side of my bed, helps me to sit. The blush that is so uniquely Clark begins to rise in his cheeks, and I know what he's going to ask next.
"I...uhm...Lex, do you need any help?"
The words are just barely stammered out. If I felt better than I do, I might tease him, see if I could get that blush to deepen to scarlet. Right now, I just need rest. "I think I can handle it." Clark nods and starts to walk away.
"Clark, I didn't mean...Well...It's just that she's the only one who ever treated me like you do. Like I'm special. I don't think of you like my mother, Clark." I hadn't meant to say anything about this at all. I certainly didn't mean to say all of that. It gets dangerously close to things I might wish for, but never expect to see. Things better left unsaid. Clark just nods at me again and resumes his walk towards the door.
"I'm sorry, Lex." And this is a new voice. One I haven't heard before. The concern, almost fear for me are still the primary things in this voice, but something has been added. He sounds sad, and very tired, defeated almost. I don't like that sound coming from him.
"Clark, wait." That was a bit more forceful than I had intended, but he stops. I'm still fighting with the last of my buttons, but I can't let him leave like this. "What are you sorry about?" My voice was softer this time, more the tone I meant.
Clark hasn't turned around yet. He's just standing there with his back to me. I slip out of my shirt and under the blankets. "Please, just tell me."
Clark turns around slowly and that same pain is evident in his face. "I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry you got hurt and it's my fault. It's always my fault. You must hate being here. I'm sure you never got hurt like this in Metropolis."
God, he's near tears and I don't even understand half of this. How can he possibly think any of this is his fault. I smile at him. "No, in Metropolis most of the pain I felt was self-inflicted." My tone starts out light. I'm trying to distract him, but I can tell by his look that it's not working. I'll go with serious this time, "It's not your fault Clark. I can't imagine why you would think that. You've saved me and taken care of me, none of it is your fault."
Clark smiles at me just a little then and when he speaks he doesn't sound so broken. He sounds strong and good and pure, just like he always does. If there's a touch of sadness there it's just a touch. "Yes, it is. I wish I could explain it all to you." He has crossed the room again while he was speaking. He has reached one hand out, gently tracing along the side of my face, the site of my freshest bruising. The fingers just barely brush against my skin, and I think for a moment how easy it would be to turn my head, to change this touch into something more. I almost do it, but I'm not sure, not yet. I can't lose this boy, and I'm not sure that he wants me to change things. I'm not sure he wants to these gentle touches to move from the realm of caring concern and friendship into something more. I've never had this before you see. I don't know what it means. So instead I just speak once again. "You can tell me anything."
The smile on Clark's face widens at that. "Maybe. But not tonight. You need to sleep." Every last trace of melancholy is gone from his voice now. There is hope there instead. I almost call out to him as he walks away. I almost ask him to stay, to explain things to me. In the end, I let him go. We'll continue this another day.
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Clarks POV
I knew I'd find him here. In his study, in front of the fireplace. It's where he always is after. It's almost like he's waiting on me. It's okay if he is, I'll always come. I use my x-ray vision and quickly check for broken bones. His skeleton looks intact and I say as much as I help him up. I wonder if he noticed that, filed it away for future reference. I really should be more careful about what I say. I am around everyone else. But with Lex, it's almost like I want him to find out. I don't understand it, not really.
I'm worried about Lex, tonight. He's letting me help him, not putting up any fight about it. Usually I get at least one abrupt comment about how he's not a child. Tonight he's been silent, he seems fragile.
We're almost to his room when a small sound escapes his mouth. I thought at first that it was pain, but there's a soft smile on his face. so I ask him what it is.
"Nothing, I was just thinking that sometimes you remind me of my mother." His voice is a little weak, which also worries me. He never sounds like this. He seems to be moving around okay though, so maybe I just worry too much. I can't believe he just said I remind him of his mother. I'm not quite sure what to think about that. I mean on the one hand I know that she is the only person he ever really felt close to, so I guess that's good. On the other, she's his mother, and that really wasn't the kind of relationship I was hoping for here. Okay, so maybe I'm a little confused about just what kind of relationship I am hoping for, but I can guarantee it isn't anything even vaguely parental from either side.
We're in his room now. Usually I just leave him here, but he seems so helpless tonight. I guess, I should ask him if he needs any help. "I...uhm...Lex, do you need any help?" God, I sound like a moron. And I'm blushing. You would think I would have moved past that by now. And knowing Lex, he'll say something that will make this even worse.
"I think I can handle it." Lex is using his usual dry tone, which almost makes me blush harder, but I don't. I'm still not sure he's really okay, but he said he could handle it. I guess I should go. I manage to nod in his direction before I head towards the door.
I'm just a few steps away when I hear his voice again. "Clark, I didn't mean...Well...It's just that she's the only one who ever treated me like you do. Like I'm special. I don't think of you like my mother, Clark." I know how much it must have cost him to say this. He doesn't like to talk about her, or about the things he didn't have. He says he doesn't miss having a real family like mine, because he never had one in the first place. He had her though, so I think he's lying when he says that. The way he says the last bit there, I can almost here something in his voice there, something that would tell me how he does think of me. It almost tells me that he thinks of me as a friend or maybe something more. Almost, but I'm just not sure. I've never been good at reading Lex. He's different from everyone I've ever known. I want to say something and I almost do, but I don't know what words to use. So instead, I just nod again and start to walk away.
It hits me then that I'm responsible for all of this. If it weren't for me, my very existence, Lex would not be hurt. He'd be okay and safe. More than that actually. Everyone would be safe. It's my fault that they've all been hurt. I can't help it, I have to apologize for it all, even if he doesn't understand. "I'm Sorry, Lex."
I'm almost to the door when I hear his voice call me back again. He wants me to explain this to him. I can't of course, not really, not so he'll understand. But when he says "Please." in that tone of voice, I can't deny him an explanation, so I try. "I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry you got hurt and it's my fault. It's always my fault. You must hate being here. I'm sure you never got hurt like this in Metropolis." I can feel the tears start to well up, but I won't allow them to fall. I won't cry while I say this, it's my responsibility.
I see the confusion cross his face. He doesn't understand this, and I can't explain it to him. His voice is so gentle when he tells me that it's not my fault. I'm glad he believes that. He trusts me, and I didn't realize just how much I needed that until just now. I've crossed the room before I know it, and I brush my fingertips along the side of his face. I'm dangerously close to stepping over that line now. The invisible line between friendly concern and something else. A look crosses his face as I speak, indecision I think, and for a moment I'm sure that he'll turn his head allowing me to cradle his face with this hand. The look passes and he doesn't move. I wish he had. I want that contact. I almost allow myself to make it. Almost make my light touch stronger and surer. I want to stroke his injured skin, caress the flesh that has been haunting my dreams. I almost do it, but I can't. I'm just not sure. I'm not sure that it's what he wants and I couldn't handle it if he were to lose that trust in me. So I let my hand drop back to my side.
"You can tell me anything." Those words mean so much to me. I want to believe them. I think I do believe them, despite all of my parents warnings about letting people know what I am and letting Lex know in particular. I can trust him, the way that he trusts me. I can trust him not to hurt me. And I think that maybe I can trust us to cross that line, to change things.
"Maybe, but not tonight. You need to sleep." And I mean that. Maybe I can tell him anything, and maybe we will find out soon. I want to, but we're not ready yet. Almost, but not yet.