Post-Debut - Timed to 7 January 2010
It's been a long time since Clark felt this bad.
The physical is only part of it; he's never shied away from pain, not ever, although this is undoubtedly some of the worst injuries he's sustained for this long. Worst is a relative term, of course-He'd been dead, before, but mortal injuries tend to send you into shock. Just now, Clark's entire body sings with pain any time he takes a breath or turns his head, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's deserved, overdue even.
He'd told Lois yesterday that he didn't know how to live in a world where she didn't love him, and that is unalterably true. Lois isn't here, though, to love him or not, and he honestly can't say what is worse: Having her hate him or not having her there at all. At least with the first, he had some kind of chance to make things right.
Clark hasn't thought about it that much yet, but he guesses this is a trade off, Lex for Lois, and he honestly can't say how he feels about that.
In the whirlwind that was yesterday afternoon, a friendly blonde had stopped by the clinic, perched on his temporary bed and calmly given him a run down of what he could expect from his new life. Some of it Lex had already told him, but it was somehow easier coming from a stranger, his mind able to pull away from the knot of emotions that Lex embodied and focus on her easy smile and soothing voice.
That was how he'd found out about Oliver.
Not even Lex had known about that, Clark guesses, or maybe he just didn't know to say as much; it wasn't as if Lex and Oliver had been on the best terms, ever, and Lex might not know Clark had reason to care, coming from when he did. The bottom line was, just like Chloe, Oliver had been on the island before, and it had surprised Clark not at all to learn that he'd been a cornerstone of the community while he was.
Of course he'd built the first permanent huts, of course he'd been among the first to foster a sense of community and belonging.
And, naturally, named it after himself.
The little knot of homes is mostly in disrepair now, only one of them occupied, and as Clark stands in what had passed for a courtyard, his side wrapped beneath his t-shirt and stitches in his temple, for the first time what he's lost really hits him. For a little while at first he'd thought maybe this was a dream or hallucination, but he knows now that it's not. Instinctively, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans to absently finger the engagement ring he's been carrying for weeks, but that's gone, too. Left back in Metropolis with everyone and everything he loves.
He can bear this, he knows he can. But that doesn't mean he wants to.
The physical is only part of it; he's never shied away from pain, not ever, although this is undoubtedly some of the worst injuries he's sustained for this long. Worst is a relative term, of course-He'd been dead, before, but mortal injuries tend to send you into shock. Just now, Clark's entire body sings with pain any time he takes a breath or turns his head, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's deserved, overdue even.
He'd told Lois yesterday that he didn't know how to live in a world where she didn't love him, and that is unalterably true. Lois isn't here, though, to love him or not, and he honestly can't say what is worse: Having her hate him or not having her there at all. At least with the first, he had some kind of chance to make things right.
Clark hasn't thought about it that much yet, but he guesses this is a trade off, Lex for Lois, and he honestly can't say how he feels about that.
In the whirlwind that was yesterday afternoon, a friendly blonde had stopped by the clinic, perched on his temporary bed and calmly given him a run down of what he could expect from his new life. Some of it Lex had already told him, but it was somehow easier coming from a stranger, his mind able to pull away from the knot of emotions that Lex embodied and focus on her easy smile and soothing voice.
That was how he'd found out about Oliver.
Not even Lex had known about that, Clark guesses, or maybe he just didn't know to say as much; it wasn't as if Lex and Oliver had been on the best terms, ever, and Lex might not know Clark had reason to care, coming from when he did. The bottom line was, just like Chloe, Oliver had been on the island before, and it had surprised Clark not at all to learn that he'd been a cornerstone of the community while he was.
Of course he'd built the first permanent huts, of course he'd been among the first to foster a sense of community and belonging.
And, naturally, named it after himself.
The little knot of homes is mostly in disrepair now, only one of them occupied, and as Clark stands in what had passed for a courtyard, his side wrapped beneath his t-shirt and stitches in his temple, for the first time what he's lost really hits him. For a little while at first he'd thought maybe this was a dream or hallucination, but he knows now that it's not. Instinctively, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans to absently finger the engagement ring he's been carrying for weeks, but that's gone, too. Left back in Metropolis with everyone and everything he loves.
He can bear this, he knows he can. But that doesn't mean he wants to.