Clouds Up - Five (5/15)
As you might have guessed by now, I dislike exposition. I like you guys to figure it out for yourselves, and I find it's more challenging (and thus fulfilling) for me as a writer to make it possible, but not too easy, for you to do that.
Rest assured, any questions you have will (most likely) be answered. . . eventually. You're more than welcome to ask me in comment, though. I'll certainly answer if I'm relatively sure it won't spoil the story in any way!
Also, this chapter's my response to gildinwen's prompt. Sorry there's not more Linex for you, hon, but this series takes place (well, when it's not in Lucas' head) several years before Past the Rubicon. And PtR starts just hours after the Linex is first, er, consummated. So.
Just when you thought Lucas might be semi-sane. . .
Disclaimer: ‘Smallville’ and certain characters belong to Miller-Gough et. al. No profit is gained from this writing. Only, hopefully, enjoyment.
He went in Wednesday afternoon, unable to stand waiting any longer. Alfred answered the door with a smile, and it didn't fade when he saw who it was. Lucas was surprised at that. He hadn't thought Alfred cared for him at all, but the man reached out and pulled Lucas inside by his arm. He patted him on the back and left his hand there as they walked to the kitchen.
As they neared the doors, Alfred said, "It's very good to see you, Master Lucas," for the third time in as many minutes. He still had a smile on his face, but Lucas' was starting to feel too uneven to maintain. He let it slide off, and when Alfred glanced at his face again. . . well, the man kept smiling. It was a real smile, too, a happy one.
"It's good to see you too, Alfred," he replied, genuinely. "I like coming here."
Alfred's smile got wider for a second, then went back down. He'd grinned. Lucas had made him grin.
"Master Julian is just inside, sir," Alfred told him at the kitchen doorway. "I've laid out some refreshment on the table, so please do help yourself."
"You're not leaving, are you?" Lucas asked, grabbing Alfred's arm gently but firmly when the man started to move away.
Alfred just looked at him and cocked his left eyebrow. He was still smiling, but it was different now. It was amused instead of welcoming. He leaned in a little closer to Lucas and said cheerfully, "I'll be back shortly, sir. My turn at watchdog tonight, 'm afraid. Master Wayne's been cracking the whip lately."
Lucas didn't release Alfred's arm like he imagined he was supposed to do then. Instead he held on and waited for the man to meet his eyes again. Lucas hated to see that smile go away, but it was a small sacrifice.
"What do you mean, 'cracking the whip?'"
Alfred frowned, and Lucas made sure to watch his face closely. Few people were good at lying. Lucas could always tell when they were thinking about trying it, and a few words usually made them reconsider. He thought dissuading Alfred might prove more difficult, but not impossible.
And Lucas had motivation enough. He'd make Alfred not lie. People shouldn't lie, but especially about other people hurting them. He wouldn't let something like that happen again.
No one was going to lie to him, and if Bruce were whipping Alfred or. . . if he were hurting Julian, then he was. . .
He should know better. Things like that, they weren't allowed. Lucas didn't have to fake-feel anything when disposing of garbage. He was allowed to be empty then.
"Oh!" Alfred suddenly exclaimed, grabbing right back at Lucas. His eyes were wide and he was showing all the signs of being afraid. "Oh, no, no, Lucas," he said. "No, don't you be going down that path. It's a saying, a figure of speech. Not literal. Not literal in the slightest, you understand?"
Alfred wasn't lying, so Lucas released the man's arm and stepped back. When he just kept staring at him, though, Lucas eventually nodded and did that quick flick-up of a smile people used when they were nervous.
"I do understand now," he added, but Alfred was still looking unsettled. "My mistake. I apologize for causing you any concern."
"No apology necessary, sir," Alfred responded quietly. He wasn't smiling anymore, but Lucas supposed it was a fair trade.
'Better safe than sorry.' People used that saying too. And, 'cracking the whip.'
***
Julian offered to play against him in chess, but Lucas declined. He didn't like the game, never had, and holidays weren't for bad memories. He wondered if Lin ever played Lian in chess. If he did, he was stronger than Lucas.
Instead, they competed against each other in a racing video game. It was extremely fun, and reminded him somewhat of flying. It was also entertaining merely to watch Lian's facial expressions. The boy looked a great deal like Lex sometimes, right down to the way his irises seemed to change color according to his mood. He often bit his lip too, though, and Lucas saw Lin's influence in that.
Lin always bit his lip. Sometimes it made him bleed, and then Lionel would send someone in to collect a sample.
Or. . . he had. He had sent someone in. Lionel wouldn't be doing that anymore. Lucas knew that. The man couldn't, after all. He was dead.
No more samples or experiments. No more strategy games or puzzles.
And no more chess.
Julian won two out of three games with good grace and humility. They had just begun a new one when Lucas picked up sounds coming from the hallway. He stilled his hand and Lian paused the game for them.
"What?" Lian asked him. Then, beginning to smile, "Who is it? Is it Lin?"
Lucas listened closely for another moment, then shook his head. "No," he said, and Lian slumped back against the sofa disappointedly. "It's Dick. Bruce and Alfred are still talking about me down in the cave." He looked over and smiled at Lian, gesturing for him to push 'Play.'
"They're talking about you?" Lian asked instead. He was frowning. When Lian frowned, he looked like Lionel. "Why? What are they saying?"
Lucas shook his head. "I don't want you to hear about that."
"What?" Lian whined. "No, I wanna know. Is it bad?"
Lucas shook his head again and repeated his gesture towards the game screen. Lian sighed, but started it up again. He was distracted, so Lucas easily won that round in minutes.
"We should go to the kitchen," Lucas said when they'd finished. "Dick's in there. He'll eat all the food if we don't distract him."
Lian pursed his lips and, like Lucas knew they would, his irises darkened. He wrapped up the game controllers and put them carefully back inside the drawer.
"He's in training," Julian suddenly blurted out. "Bruce is showing him how to fight."
"And you're jealous, aren't you?" Lucas guessed. Lian turned around and scowled at him and Lucas embarrassed himself by flinching back.
"Lucky, what. . . ?" Lian started, his anger at being called out shifting into concern over Lucas' reaction.
"You don't want to do what Bruce does, Julian," Lucas interrupted bluntly. "You wouldn't like it, and his focus isn't really on Dick when he's teaching him anyway."
"What do you mean?" Lian asked after a moment. He was still frowning, so Lucas turned away and started moving across the room to the door. "What's his focus on then?"
Lucas reached out for the doorknob. He watched the intricacies of his hand opening and closing and wrapping itself around the etched metal handle.
The human body was beautiful, in all its many parts and components, in all its infinite potential and possibility.
"You don't need to hear about that," Lucas repeated. "Just know it's not something you want. You're a child, Julian." Lian scoffed in offended protest. "Be a child," Lucas said harshly, and could pick out the exact moment Lian's breath sped up in reaction to his tone. "Enjoy it. None of the rest of us got to."
He glanced at Lian over his shoulder; the boy's mouth was open in shock.
He looked like Lex again, and so Lucas smiled at him before turning back around and opening the door.
***
Lex and Lin showed up in one of their sports cars an hour later. Lin was the one who'd driven, and Lucas smiled when he saw Lex reach out and whap Lin on the back of the head.
"Hey!" Lin exclaimed, but his indignation was completely fake.
"Quit cutting people off," Lex retorted.
Lin handed the car keys to Joseph, the man Bruce paid to look after his vehicles, and he and Lex walked across the gravel and up the stairs.
"Hey, Lucky!" Lin greeted him, pulling him into a tight hug. Lucas returned it, squeezing all he could. Lin just laughed.
Lucas thought it sounded real enough.
They pulled apart, and then Lex was wrapping Lucas up in an embrace as well. It wasn't as secure, but Lucas liked it just as much. He liked it whenever Lex willingly touched him. It didn't happen that often, after all, and therefore he thought it prudent to derive all the pleasure he could out of such contact.
It was as Lex was starting to pull away that it happened. Lucas was standing with Lex's arms around him, and then he blinked, and . . .
***
People on boats, arguing and crying and screaming at each other to "Do it! Push the button! They had their chance!"
Bruce sitting in a chair, sobbing without a single tear.
Something pulling him back, sucking him down, swallowing him whole and spitting him out into a wasteland of wind and ash and. . .
Smooth skin and lips pressing in against his own.
" . . . how can you just leave us here, Col-- ?!"
He looks down and there's blood coming out from inside him. . .
***
" --Lucas! Wake up, Lucky! God, wake up."
He opened his eyes, and Lin was looking down at him. The sun hadn't yet set, and it cast Lin's face dark while making a halo of his hair.
"You're going to leave," Lucas told him before he could stop himself. He reached up and touched Lin's cheek. "You'll leave, and. . . "
I'll die.
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