Fic Update - SV
The sequel to this story is called Jumping Over Shadows, chapter one here
Rating: R but will turn NC-17
Disclaimer: Smallville belongs to DC comics and WB. This is non-profit entertainment, and no infringement is intended so please don't sue me.
Thanks to Skuf for her wonderful and quick beta work on this chapter. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Please feel free to point them out.
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A/N: This is an AU Alien!Clark/Lex fic. I have changed the original episode content in places in order to bend the story to my whims.
Previous Chapters can be found here:
Chapter 8
Chapters 5-7
Chapters 1-4
9
OoOoOo
"Have you lost your mind? Get the fuck out, Clark! Get out and never come back here again!"
Clark wandered aimlessly over the dusty barn floor, his hands pressed over his ears and his eyes suqeezed tightly closed as he tried to drown out the resonance of Lex's screams and the squall of hateful words that had followed them, but nothing seemed to dampen the noise in his head. Clark was terrified. He had no explanation for what he had done, or what had made him do it - and Clark was certain that something made him. There was no doubt that his actions had been forced, and having to contemplate the implications of that was more than what he could deal with at the moment. He wanted his mother. A bitter laugh tore from his throat at the thought. He could just see his mother's face when he told her he had practically raped Lex in his own home and then left him screaming and bleeding on the floor.
Clark stopped his pacing and wearily opened his eyes. Dawn was not far off, and then his father would be up and around. He definitely did not want to see his father before he had a chance to get a grip on his emotions. He took several deep breaths and then forced his mind to concentrate on what he should do next. What he desperately needed, were answers to the questions he had been ignoring for the last six months. He felt another wave of guilt assault him. If he had searched for those answers before, maybe last night would never have happened. He had stubbornly refused to acknowledge his heritage, even though he had always known that it was at the root of the problems he had been experiencing. Now Lex had paid the price for his mistake and his parents would once again be filled with worry on his behalf.
Clark suddenly realized he had been absently scratching at his groin, and quickly pulled his hand away. Evidence of the orgasm that destroyed a friendship had dried and was creating a disgusting itching and pulling sensation inside his underwear. Clark let out a noise of frustration as his foot connected with a bale of hay, sending it flying through the barn and crashing into a stall door, the dry wood splitting on contact. He needed to shower, and then he would wait until his father left the house to do chores so he could talk to his mother alone. His chest heaving and heart aching, Clark headed back to the house.
OoOoOo
"Clark!" Martha called up the stairway. She heard Clark shower early this morning, but she was pretty sure he had had been out late last night and wouldn't put it past him to have gone back to bed. "You're late starting chores, Clark! Your father has been out of the house for more than an hour!" Martha smiled at the sound of her son's feet hitting the floor and she headed to the stove to warm up a large serving of eggs and sausage.
Clark pulled a T-shirt over his head as he plodded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Despite the fear and guilt that were clawing at his gut, his head was remarkably clear. The pulsing energy that had been present in various quantities over the past six months had disappeared. He felt neither restlessness nor panic and, after showering, he had easily fallen into a restful sleep. Considering what happened last night, Clark found that deeply disturbing.
"Honey, your dad has already fed the…" Martha stopped dead in her tracks, pan in one hand, spatula in the other, when she caught a glimpse of Clark's face. "What's wrong?"
Afraid that she would drop everything on the floor, Clark quickly moved to relieve his mother of the fry pan and placed it back on the stove. "I'm not sure what's wrong, but I know what I need to do to find out."
Martha stood silent for a moment, then nodded in a resigned way. "You're going to open the ship, aren't you?" When she saw her son nod slightly Martha sighed. "I was hoping that somehow things would right themselves. I mean, with your other abilities, they always have."
"Mom, things are just spinning out of control. As much as I want to, I just can't afford to ignore the one source of information that is available to me. I can't trust myself anymore and, as much as I hate being confronted with a world that is so foreign to me, I have to deal with it."
"What's happened, Clark?"
Clark shook his head. "I don't know…I mean I know, but I don't know how it happened. One minute everything was fine, and the next I was doing something…horrible. It wasn't at all what I wanted, but I was doing it anyway. Mom, I think something is controlling me." Clark's voice broke with the strain of the situation.
"Are you sure, Clark?" Martha asked carefully, forcing her voice to remain calm. It had not slipped her attention that Clark hadn't told her what he'd done. When he merely nodded, she asked, "Is it like the meteor rocks, Clark - you know the way they can affect your personality - maybe you've come into contact…"
"No, this is different. It's something coming from within me. Like it has always been there, but I'm just now becoming aware of it. I can't explain it any better than that. I need to find out why it's happening, and what it means before I hurt anyone else."
"Who have you hurt, Clark?"
"Lex. I didn't mean to, I didn't want to! It just happened. Mom, he was so angry, he's never going to forgive me, and I don't blame him."
"Clark, what did you do?"
"I can't talk about it!" Clark felt the familiar panic re-surface. "He hates me now, and it's all my fault!"
"Who hates you, son?" Jonathan asked, standing in the doorway to the front hall, a look of confusion on his face.
Martha and Clark spun around to stare at him. Neither of them had heard him enter the house.
"Martha? Clark? What have I missed here?"
"Jonathan." Martha glanced nervously at Clark.
"I was just telling mom that I'm not getting any better. What we talked about last week, well, it's getting worse and I need to find answers," Clark said, letting some of the desperation he was feeling into his voice. "As much as I dislike the idea, I'm going to try and get answers from the ship - from my ship." Clark turned to look at his mother. "I'm sure you were right, mom. My biological parents knew that I would need to know about myself and my culture. I don't believe that they would have sent me away without some kind of history, some kind of understanding of who I am. If there is something wrong with me, then there will be information there to help me, I'm sure of it."
"Son, are you certain you want to…"
"I've avoided it as long as I could, Dad. I'm not too happy about having to do it, but things can't go on as they have. I need to do everything possible to put things right."
"I know how you feel about that ship, Clark. Still, if it's what you need to do - if you're sure - your mother and I will help you get through it. Are you going to tell me who's angry with you?"
Clark sighed. "Lex. I had a fight with him last night and he has every right to be furious with me."
"Well, I'm sure he'll get over it," Jonathan replied in a tone that said Lex deserved anything he got.
"No. No, he won't," Clark said quietly. "Look, the only important thing right now, is trying to find out what exactly is happening to me and why. Then I can worry about making amends, if they're even possible."
"Clark, we'll come with you to open the ship. We won't leave you alone with this."
Clark, relieved, nodded and then his brow wrinkled. "I want you both there, but I have no idea what will happen or how long it might take. If someone should show up on the farm during that time, they might decide to come looking for one of you."
"That could be a problem. Clark, can't this wait till evening?"
"No. I need to do this now before anything else can happen."
"Are you going to tell me what happened - why this is suddenly something that can't wait a few hours?"
"Dad, right now all I want to do is get this over with. We can talk about everything later. I really need to do this now."
"Alright, son," Jonathan said, nodding and reaching out to squeeze Clark's shoulder. "Martha, you go with him. If anyone shows up here, it wouldn't seem odd for you and Clark to be out on an errand. I'll stick close to the house."
"Okay." Martha looked pale, but determined.
"Clark, everything should be fine. That is your ship, and the information in it was meant for you. Still, if anything seems amiss, I want you to close it up and get your mother out of there."
"Maybe I should go alone."
"Clark, don't be ridiculous. That ship is part of you and it isn't going to do anyone any harm. We're going together."
OoOoOoO
After fighting a mental battle that seemed to last for hours, Lex clawed his way up out of a drug-induced sleep and opened his eyes. The bedroom was dark and still, the pain in his body reduced to a dull thumping. He reached out with his left hand to activate the LCD display of the clock on the night stand and was immediately sorry he had. A stabbing pain in his shoulder shot sparks of white-hot fire through his body. Lex grit his teeth and waited for his body to calm down before he carefully lay back on his right side. He never should have taken a sleeping pill together with a heavy-duty pain-killer. Still, last night all he had wanted was blissful oblivion; groggy disorientation the next day seemed like a small price to pay.
Lex could feel the wound on his back sticking to the gauze dressing and he was sure it was going to be murder to clean and re-bandage. In the kitchen last night he had hastily pressed a clean dish-towel against it and, by the time he got to his rooms, the wound was no longer bleeding. He'd climbed into the shower and poured a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over his shoulder, hoping that it wouldn't get infected making it necessary to call Toby in. It didn't matter how discrete the man was; a knifing was one thing, this injury was something else. What Clark had done to his body was shaming - a sign that Lex had been weak, and he couldn't bear the idea of anyone having visible proof of that fact.
Lex sighed and, despite the throbbing pain, lightly rolled his left shoulder concentrating on the area under the dressing. Oddly, the damage seemed to be deeper than a bite, though it was possible that Clark had damaged a nerve in the muscle, making it feel worse than it actually was. Small, bruising love-bites, Lex had experienced, but no one had ever dared to actually break the skin, let alone sink their teeth into a muscle.
Fucking Clark. Lex tried in vain to summon the anger and feeling of betrayal that had caused him to fly into a rage last night. The words were there, easily called to mind, yet the emotional attachment to them was missing. It was as though he was reading about another person's ordeal in a newspaper. The knowledge of what happened was there, along with the judgment that it was wrong, but there was no personal emotional involvement - no negative feelings attaching him to the event. Lex thought his lack of emotion could be caused by shock, though more likely it was a side effect of the heavy sedative he had taken to sleep last night. He was angry over the betrayal of his trust and at having been used as some inanimate object for Clark to practice frottage on.
Frottage. Clark. Lex let out a small involuntary moan as he remembered the feel of Clark's lips and tongue on his mouth and the heat of Clark's arousal pressing into his leg. Lex felt his body respond to the recollection of the intense sensations he had experienced in Clark's embrace. When he realized an erection was straining against his pajama bottoms, Lex's eyes flew open and he sat up hastily, once again causing him to wince with the pain. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't summon the very understandable and appropriate emotions surrounding his anger, but he could become so easily aroused? This wasn't right…it wasn't normal.
Lex headed into the bathroom and at the sink turned on the cold water, splashing his face until it stung from the icy cold and he felt some of the heavy-headedness leave him. Grabbing a thick cotton towel, he sat himself on a divan and wiped his face and throat dry. He desperately needed to make some kind of sense out of the events of last night. That Clark had approached him in a sexual manner was mind-blowing, yet there hadn't been time to even consider why he had done so, before being sucked into an emotional abyss. To be fair, he had responded favorably, returning Clark's kiss and letting Clark know without words that it was alright to continue. What had ignited between them was still foreign to Lex. He wondered now if Clark had also been overcome by the incredible chemistry between them. Lex had not been able to control that moment, how could he expect someone as inexperienced as Clark to?
Lex let the towel drop to the floor and ran a hand over his scalp. Why had Clark kissed him? He'd told Lex that he was no longer interested in Lana. Had Clark realized that he was gay? Lex couldn't imagine it. In his experience, and god knew he had plenty of it, there was no one on earth less gay than Clark Kent. Still, there was no denying that Clark had initiated the kiss and had been physically aroused. The idea that Clark had been fantasizing about Lana while kissing him was ridiculous. Lex knew that Clark had not been thinking of someone else; it had been his name on Clark's lips. That realization, coupled with his inability to work-up feelings of anger towards Clark, told Lex that it wouldn't be long before he went looking for Clark and the answers to his questions.
OoOoOo
"This can't be happening. They can't do that to me." Clark stood pale and shocked in front of the small ship that now lay inert and harmless looking on the dirt floor of the storm cellar.
Martha had nervously watched events unfold, hopelessly lost in the foreign sounds of Clark's native tongue and the symbols that lit up and circled the walls. Never before had she felt the alien nature of her son so completely shut her out. Though she stood close enough to reach out and touch him, there were millions of miles between them.
"Clark, what is it?" Martha whispered, gently reaching out to touch her son's arm. When he looked down at her she had to stifle a gasp. Even the distant look in his eyes could not conceal the misery in them.
"I can't…I wouldn't even know where to begin. I need to sort this out. I need to…I need…" Clark looked down at the octagonal disk and the rectangular processor clutched in his hands. He could feel nothing but anger and resentment towards the people who had made them. Strangers who didn't know him, yet had made decisions that would dictate how his life would be lived. He would have been better off left to die with them. Instead, he was here, causing and due to cause more heart-break to those he cared about most.
"Clark?"
"Mom, take these," he said, shoving the objects into her hands. "I need time to understand everything. I need to do that alone. I love you, Mom," Clark said, leaning down to kiss Martha's forehead.
Before she could answer, the door to the storm cellar slammed open and she was left alone looking up into the cloudless blue sky.
OoOoOo
A/N: This is the last chapter under the title of 'A Summer of Broken Hearts'. The story will continue under a less depressing title. I apologise for the length of time between the chapters for this part of the story. RL is back on track and Skuf has kindly taken over the beta work (Rose7 had RL explode on her and she could no longer beta) so I feel good about promising a new chapter every two weeks. Thank you for reading and your comments!
Cross posted to alien_desires