"Do you mean that all this time, the key to stopping you from taking over the world was looking pathetic and--" Clark sneezed vehemently, and his hand shot out to the box of tissues "--consuming half the world's supply of Kleenex?"
He groaned and closed his eyes again, curling up on his side. "Gosh, I'm sorry about the mess. This has been one heck of a week."
When he said it aloud, he realized that it sounded like an excuse. A weak explanation for all the terribleness he was inflicting upon Lex. Some small part of him wondered vaguely why he would need an explanation. Domestic bliss was only bliss if there was domestic strife, after all; and god knew they had their share of strife. Still, after everything, Clark was unsure how much of it Lex was willing to take. Then he felt silly and mortified for doubting him. Because his doubt was completely unjustified. Losing his powers, catching a cold, being reduced to a sad mess all in two weeks could not possibly warrant insecurity.
"Don't worry about it," Lex said, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Unless of course you spread your disease onto me, in which case I will bring horrible vengeance upon you."
He shoved a pile of tissues off the bed into a wastebasket, and stretched out on his side of the bed with a sigh.
"So, Zatanna just got in contact with me," he said. "According to her, she can't find a trace of magic on you. She says that whatever happened to your powers, it wasn't magical." He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. "Which means that the list of things that can affect you, we've gone through everything, and found nothing."
The revelation was met with silence. Clark was strangely calm, even if his heart was thumping in his chest, and his body was tense.
No more hearing people in need, and seeing the ways to help them. No more delving into the insanely convoluted plans of hopeful world dominators, meeting with ambassadors from other galaxies, knitting the fabric of space-time, stopping petty burglars, getting the old lady her purse back, being there to comfort an adventurous child's scraped knee. No saving the world.
He'd been so many places, as Superman. He'd seen so many wonderful things. Given all he had to offer to humanity, asked for nothing in return except pride in his work, and now, there was just...
Truth be told: he was faced with everything he could possibly wish for.
He sat up wordlessly and pushed his glasses up, letting his head tilt back to stare, unseeing, at the ceiling.
Lex watched Clark carefully, seeing the emotions flash across his face, ending on a look of shellshocked contemplation.
"Clark," Lex said, resting his hand on his shoulder and stroking his thumb across Clark's neck, "I'm going to figure this out. Don't worry."
And Lex would figure it out. Superman's power to disappearing suddenly with no explanation seemed almost like a personal challenge to Lex. God knew he'd spent enough time trying to figure out how to take Clark's powers away; for it to happen at random was downright insulting.
Comments 12
He groaned and closed his eyes again, curling up on his side. "Gosh, I'm sorry about the mess. This has been one heck of a week."
When he said it aloud, he realized that it sounded like an excuse. A weak explanation for all the terribleness he was inflicting upon Lex. Some small part of him wondered vaguely why he would need an explanation. Domestic bliss was only bliss if there was domestic strife, after all; and god knew they had their share of strife. Still, after everything, Clark was unsure how much of it Lex was willing to take. Then he felt silly and mortified for doubting him. Because his doubt was completely unjustified. Losing his powers, catching a cold, being reduced to a sad mess all in two weeks could not possibly warrant insecurity.
Right?
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He shoved a pile of tissues off the bed into a wastebasket, and stretched out on his side of the bed with a sigh.
"So, Zatanna just got in contact with me," he said. "According to her, she can't find a trace of magic on you. She says that whatever happened to your powers, it wasn't magical." He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. "Which means that the list of things that can affect you, we've gone through everything, and found nothing."
Reply
No more hearing people in need, and seeing the ways to help them. No more delving into the insanely convoluted plans of hopeful world dominators, meeting with ambassadors from other galaxies, knitting the fabric of space-time, stopping petty burglars, getting the old lady her purse back, being there to comfort an adventurous child's scraped knee. No saving the world.
He'd been so many places, as Superman. He'd seen so many wonderful things. Given all he had to offer to humanity, asked for nothing in return except pride in his work, and now, there was just...
Truth be told: he was faced with everything he could possibly wish for.
He sat up wordlessly and pushed his glasses up, letting his head tilt back to stare, unseeing, at the ceiling.
Reply
"Clark," Lex said, resting his hand on his shoulder and stroking his thumb across Clark's neck, "I'm going to figure this out. Don't worry."
And Lex would figure it out. Superman's power to disappearing suddenly with no explanation seemed almost like a personal challenge to Lex. God knew he'd spent enough time trying to figure out how to take Clark's powers away; for it to happen at random was downright insulting.
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