Fic: The Aleph (Clark/Bruce) (4 of 36)
Title: The Aleph
Author: tmelange
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Fandom: Smallville/DCU
Rating: Adult
Tags: Plot-Intensive, Bruce in Smallville, Young Clark and Bruce, Memory Loss, First Time Meeting/Sex, Romance, Drama
Status: WIP
Warnings: Slash, m/m sex
Word Count: 1,380
Summary: Clark Kent meets Bruce Wayne for the first time under very strange circumstances.
Note: Please remember that this story alternates between the present and the past by chapter. I'm not labeling the chapters because I think it's pretty clear that there are two stories happening simultaneously and in one Bruce is a child and in the other he's not, but just in case you've forgotten or it's not as clear as I think it is... *g* I don't want you to be too confused. ;)
Previous chapters can be found HERE.
IV.
"There were tranquilizers in his system, Mr. Kent. The vehicle the mother was driving is unregistered, fake plates, VIN removed. Classic signs of a person on the run-"
"Running from what?" Jonathan Kent interjected.
"Good question. Without any identification on the woman, your guess is as good as any." The police officer sucked his teeth. "All we can do is run the boy's description through the national databases-unless he regains his memory and tells us something. Anyway, it's mighty nice of you to take the boy in while we investigate…"
Clark tuned the conversation out, and, instead, put an arm around Bruce's shoulders and squeezed. "Are you ready to go home?"
Bruce was silent, staring out of the hospital room window, lost in his own thoughts, but Clark was patient, and eventually, the boy looked up at Clark and nodded.
Three days had passed since Bruce had awakened from his coma, and Clark was glad to see he was relatively fit and recovering steadily. The ten days the dark-haired boy had been unconscious had been some of the worst days of Clark's life. He had felt like such a failure-to have incredible speed and strength and yet be unable to prevent the death of a mother and the injury to the son. Then he had felt positively helpless when there was nothing he could do to get the boy to open his eyes except hold his hand and pray.
But Bruce was awake now, and safe, and if Clark had anything to say about it, nothing would hurt him ever again.
Clark turned from the window, Bruce tucked close to his side like a shadow, and followed his dad out of the hospital room and home.
+
The boy was taciturn, Clark decided, trying out one of the words from the vocabulary list from his English class. The list was supposed to help prepare him for the college entrance exam he would have to take next year, but besides that fact, the word fit his young companion exactly. Bruce was quiet, except when spoken to, and then he was unfailingly polite and complete in his response. He was…entirely too serious for his age, which Clark put at eight, maybe nine years. Any normal third grader would be bouncing with excess energy, but all Bruce did was study the countryside as they traveled the road outside of Smallville, and the yellow farmhouse as they pulled into the driveway.
It must be the trauma, Clark decided. It must all seem so strange to him, not knowing where he came from or where he's going. Clark knew exactly how that felt, and he resolved to do everything he could to make Bruce feel at home.
He needn't have worried. His mom was in full mom-mode when they entered the house. There was lunch, and cookies, and Clark's room had been regressed about ten years, back to his childhood obsession with the Gray Ghost. His old sheet set and bedspread had been rescued out of storage and his bed remade. His mom had even taken the time to buy Bruce a whole new wardrobe-which prompted his dad to pull her aside and admonish that the boy would only be with them for a short while and she should be careful not to get too attached.
"This is your room," Bruce stated once they were alone again.
Clark sat down next to him on the bed. "Yep. But it's yours now."
"Where will you sleep?"
"On the sofa in the living room for now. You know they'll be looking for your family, and I'm sure your memory will come back, but until then, I want you to be comfortable here. To think of this as home."
Bruce nodded. "You're really cool."
Clark grinned. "I try."
"And you can fly, and you're strong, just like a super hero. That's really cool, too."
"Uh-what? I'm-" Clark cleared his throat. "You know, I can't really fly."
Bruce's gaze was intense. "But I saw you."
"That was just your imagination, Bruce."
Dark eyebrows drew together and a pale face set itself in stubborn lines. "I saw you."
It was…hard, to lie when such clear blue eyes were studying him so expectantly. Clark lied to everyone, all the time. Had been doing it since he was a kid and found out that he couldn't be hurt, and was stronger than anyone, and so much faster, too. Didn't even think about it anymore, really. But he had never looked into the eyes of a child who clearly…needed him, to believe in him, and lied. He was only sixteen-somehow, he didn't think this was fair.
"It was the tornado," Clark said, looking away. "It made things seem strange…"
"Why-why are you lying?" The boy's bottom lip started to tremble, his eyes filled with tears.
He couldn't do this.
Clark pulled Bruce into a hug. "I'm sorry. Hey, don't cry-don't-"
But it was too late. Bruce was crying, sobs that he tried to bury in Clark's t-shirt, and Clark felt like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. This wasn't what Bruce needed-to feel deceived, uncertain, unsafe, because the person he needed to trust was a liar. The boy had been bereft of everything-his mother, his memory, his entire life. He needed to feel safe, and loved…
"Come on," Clark said, getting to his feet and pulling Bruce with him, out of the room and down the stairs. "We'll be back in a few, Mom," he yelled as they exited the house. He led Bruce around back of the barn and out into the middle of the open field. His dad would kill him if he saw-but Clark didn't care.
Bruce was quiet, watchful. His tears had stopped but they had made a wreck of his pale complexion. "Are you ready?" Clark asked. When Bruce nodded, Clark picked him up, braced himself…and jumped.
To his credit, Bruce didn't scream. His eyes just opened wide, and he turned his head to get a good look at the sky on both sides, squirming, trying to look down to see how high up they were. It was the smile that lit his face as he took it all in that tugged at Clark's heart and convinced him he had made the right decision.
Clark landed carefully in an open field on the outskirts of the Kent acreage. He set Bruce down and collapsed on the ground, crossing his legs and finding a stalk to chew. Bruce stared down at him for a moment and then joined him. He sat close and crossed his legs, too, and grabbed a stalk of his own.
"You can fly."
"Not exactly. I can jump really high, and I can float sometimes. I jump and float, but it's not exactly flying."
"It's still cool."
Clark smiled. "Definitely."
"Why did you lie? Why did you say you couldn't when you could?"
"I'm sorry about that," Clark sighed. "But some people would try to hurt me if they knew I could do special things. They might try to take me away from my family. That's why it's really, really important that you don't tell anyone about this, and that you understand why I don't show off my abilities to anyone."
"I won't tell anyone," Bruce said, solemnly. "I promise."
Clark ruffled his hair. "Good. You're the only one who knows my secret, except Mom and Dad. So now you're family."
"Family," Bruce repeated, and he sounded…satisfied, happy. Then he scrambled to his feet, pulling Clark with him. "Can we do it again? Can you do anything else? Do you think I could-"
"Whoa!" Clark said, laughing. "I can't just go jumping around. Someone might see us-"
"Don't worry," Bruce said, confidently. "No one will take you away from your family. I won't let them."
"I know, but we still have to be careful. We need to get back to the house, so how about we try this instead." Clark placed a hand around the boy's waist and encouraged him to do the same. "Hold on." He lifted Bruce a bit and took off running. The sound of Bruce's laughter on the wind buried itself in his heart.
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Author: tmelange
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Fandom: Smallville/DCU
Rating: Adult
Tags: Plot-Intensive, Bruce in Smallville, Young Clark and Bruce, Memory Loss, First Time Meeting/Sex, Romance, Drama
Status: WIP
Warnings: Slash, m/m sex
Word Count: 1,380
Summary: Clark Kent meets Bruce Wayne for the first time under very strange circumstances.
Note: Please remember that this story alternates between the present and the past by chapter. I'm not labeling the chapters because I think it's pretty clear that there are two stories happening simultaneously and in one Bruce is a child and in the other he's not, but just in case you've forgotten or it's not as clear as I think it is... *g* I don't want you to be too confused. ;)
Previous chapters can be found HERE.
IV.
"There were tranquilizers in his system, Mr. Kent. The vehicle the mother was driving is unregistered, fake plates, VIN removed. Classic signs of a person on the run-"
"Running from what?" Jonathan Kent interjected.
"Good question. Without any identification on the woman, your guess is as good as any." The police officer sucked his teeth. "All we can do is run the boy's description through the national databases-unless he regains his memory and tells us something. Anyway, it's mighty nice of you to take the boy in while we investigate…"
Clark tuned the conversation out, and, instead, put an arm around Bruce's shoulders and squeezed. "Are you ready to go home?"
Bruce was silent, staring out of the hospital room window, lost in his own thoughts, but Clark was patient, and eventually, the boy looked up at Clark and nodded.
Three days had passed since Bruce had awakened from his coma, and Clark was glad to see he was relatively fit and recovering steadily. The ten days the dark-haired boy had been unconscious had been some of the worst days of Clark's life. He had felt like such a failure-to have incredible speed and strength and yet be unable to prevent the death of a mother and the injury to the son. Then he had felt positively helpless when there was nothing he could do to get the boy to open his eyes except hold his hand and pray.
But Bruce was awake now, and safe, and if Clark had anything to say about it, nothing would hurt him ever again.
Clark turned from the window, Bruce tucked close to his side like a shadow, and followed his dad out of the hospital room and home.
+
The boy was taciturn, Clark decided, trying out one of the words from the vocabulary list from his English class. The list was supposed to help prepare him for the college entrance exam he would have to take next year, but besides that fact, the word fit his young companion exactly. Bruce was quiet, except when spoken to, and then he was unfailingly polite and complete in his response. He was…entirely too serious for his age, which Clark put at eight, maybe nine years. Any normal third grader would be bouncing with excess energy, but all Bruce did was study the countryside as they traveled the road outside of Smallville, and the yellow farmhouse as they pulled into the driveway.
It must be the trauma, Clark decided. It must all seem so strange to him, not knowing where he came from or where he's going. Clark knew exactly how that felt, and he resolved to do everything he could to make Bruce feel at home.
He needn't have worried. His mom was in full mom-mode when they entered the house. There was lunch, and cookies, and Clark's room had been regressed about ten years, back to his childhood obsession with the Gray Ghost. His old sheet set and bedspread had been rescued out of storage and his bed remade. His mom had even taken the time to buy Bruce a whole new wardrobe-which prompted his dad to pull her aside and admonish that the boy would only be with them for a short while and she should be careful not to get too attached.
"This is your room," Bruce stated once they were alone again.
Clark sat down next to him on the bed. "Yep. But it's yours now."
"Where will you sleep?"
"On the sofa in the living room for now. You know they'll be looking for your family, and I'm sure your memory will come back, but until then, I want you to be comfortable here. To think of this as home."
Bruce nodded. "You're really cool."
Clark grinned. "I try."
"And you can fly, and you're strong, just like a super hero. That's really cool, too."
"Uh-what? I'm-" Clark cleared his throat. "You know, I can't really fly."
Bruce's gaze was intense. "But I saw you."
"That was just your imagination, Bruce."
Dark eyebrows drew together and a pale face set itself in stubborn lines. "I saw you."
It was…hard, to lie when such clear blue eyes were studying him so expectantly. Clark lied to everyone, all the time. Had been doing it since he was a kid and found out that he couldn't be hurt, and was stronger than anyone, and so much faster, too. Didn't even think about it anymore, really. But he had never looked into the eyes of a child who clearly…needed him, to believe in him, and lied. He was only sixteen-somehow, he didn't think this was fair.
"It was the tornado," Clark said, looking away. "It made things seem strange…"
"Why-why are you lying?" The boy's bottom lip started to tremble, his eyes filled with tears.
He couldn't do this.
Clark pulled Bruce into a hug. "I'm sorry. Hey, don't cry-don't-"
But it was too late. Bruce was crying, sobs that he tried to bury in Clark's t-shirt, and Clark felt like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. This wasn't what Bruce needed-to feel deceived, uncertain, unsafe, because the person he needed to trust was a liar. The boy had been bereft of everything-his mother, his memory, his entire life. He needed to feel safe, and loved…
"Come on," Clark said, getting to his feet and pulling Bruce with him, out of the room and down the stairs. "We'll be back in a few, Mom," he yelled as they exited the house. He led Bruce around back of the barn and out into the middle of the open field. His dad would kill him if he saw-but Clark didn't care.
Bruce was quiet, watchful. His tears had stopped but they had made a wreck of his pale complexion. "Are you ready?" Clark asked. When Bruce nodded, Clark picked him up, braced himself…and jumped.
To his credit, Bruce didn't scream. His eyes just opened wide, and he turned his head to get a good look at the sky on both sides, squirming, trying to look down to see how high up they were. It was the smile that lit his face as he took it all in that tugged at Clark's heart and convinced him he had made the right decision.
Clark landed carefully in an open field on the outskirts of the Kent acreage. He set Bruce down and collapsed on the ground, crossing his legs and finding a stalk to chew. Bruce stared down at him for a moment and then joined him. He sat close and crossed his legs, too, and grabbed a stalk of his own.
"You can fly."
"Not exactly. I can jump really high, and I can float sometimes. I jump and float, but it's not exactly flying."
"It's still cool."
Clark smiled. "Definitely."
"Why did you lie? Why did you say you couldn't when you could?"
"I'm sorry about that," Clark sighed. "But some people would try to hurt me if they knew I could do special things. They might try to take me away from my family. That's why it's really, really important that you don't tell anyone about this, and that you understand why I don't show off my abilities to anyone."
"I won't tell anyone," Bruce said, solemnly. "I promise."
Clark ruffled his hair. "Good. You're the only one who knows my secret, except Mom and Dad. So now you're family."
"Family," Bruce repeated, and he sounded…satisfied, happy. Then he scrambled to his feet, pulling Clark with him. "Can we do it again? Can you do anything else? Do you think I could-"
"Whoa!" Clark said, laughing. "I can't just go jumping around. Someone might see us-"
"Don't worry," Bruce said, confidently. "No one will take you away from your family. I won't let them."
"I know, but we still have to be careful. We need to get back to the house, so how about we try this instead." Clark placed a hand around the boy's waist and encouraged him to do the same. "Hold on." He lifted Bruce a bit and took off running. The sound of Bruce's laughter on the wind buried itself in his heart.
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