Brother
Title: Brother
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Clark Kent, Lex Luthor (gen)
Word Count: 614
Rating: G
Notes: Well, here's a ficlet in a fandom I didn't think I'd really write for. Post-2x08, Ryan, dealing directly with the events of that episode.
Summary: Clark had wanted to do it himself.
Clark had wanted to do it himself - choose a spot away from everywhere, somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet, and dig and dig until everything was as perfect as it could be. He doesn’t because that’s not how things are done, but the urge is powerful nonetheless.
Instead, they bury Ryan in Smallville, in the same graveyard where Clark’s grandparents are buried. Ryan James, it says, with dates and a nice inscription. He knows without asking that Lex is responsible for the carved angel near the gravesite, mask covering its eyes and arms folded over its chest as it stands guard.
“He was my friend too,” Lex says quietly, and Clark isn’t surprised that he’s here, isn’t surprised that he didn’t hear Lex coming, not with how his head has been in the clouds since - since. “Not for as long as he was yours, and certainly not in the same way or to the same extent, but I liked him, and I like to think that he liked me for more than my collection of comic books.”
“Yeah,” Clark says after a moment. “He was - he was a good kid.”
“He was certainly something special,” Lex murmurs as he squats down to inspect the headstone, and for a moment Clark feels that old urge swell up, deny and deflect and protect, but it fades quickly. Lex had been right about Ryan, after all, and it hardly matters now anyway. After a moment, Lex looks over his shoulder and smiles a little up at Clark, tapping the angel statue on the leg. “There’s only so much you can do for someone once they’ve passed, but I thought it was appropriate.”
“It made my mom cry,” Clark says. Lex’s eyes widen, and Clark adds, “In a good way, no, just - it reminded her of him, you know?” He hesitates. “I think she wanted to adopt him. I think she and my dad were talking about it, actually, before Ryan got sick.” Before you noticed he was sick, his mind needles, and Clark’s shoulders hunch.
“I’m sorry that this is something we now share, Clark.”
“I don’t think I follow,” Clark says after a minute. Lex stands up and smiles, but he’s looking out into the distance, not really focusing on anything at all.
“You know about Julian,” Lex says with a slight shrug. “I asked my father about Lucas after Rachel Dunleavy turned up. Apparently he was placed with a good family, and died before his first birthday.”
“I’m so sorry,” Clark says quietly. There’s nothing else to say, and he’s always known it, but now he understands it a little, too.
Lex shrugs again. “They say you can’t miss what you never had,” he says. “I’m not so sure I believe that any more.”
Clark nods and shoves his hands into the pockets in his jacket. “Only the good die young,” he offers after a minute, and he doesn’t mean to turn the end of it up like a question, but that’s how it comes out anyway.
Lex snorts. “What does it say about me that I’d rather die after a long, evil life than pass away tomorrow with clean hands?”
“That you’ve put too much thought into it,” Clark tosses back, chancing a look at Lex. There’s a smile on his face, so Clark smiles back a little.
“You’re probably right,” Lex agrees. “Listen, I’ve got a few mugs of hot chocolate and some old Warrior Angel comics we could read if you’re in the mood.”
Clark glances down at the grave, at the solemn figure keeping watch, and smiles as he looks back up at Lex. “That sounds good to me.”
This was originally posted at http://somehowunbroken.dreamwidth.org/184745.html, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Clark Kent, Lex Luthor (gen)
Word Count: 614
Rating: G
Notes: Well, here's a ficlet in a fandom I didn't think I'd really write for. Post-2x08, Ryan, dealing directly with the events of that episode.
Summary: Clark had wanted to do it himself.
Clark had wanted to do it himself - choose a spot away from everywhere, somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet, and dig and dig until everything was as perfect as it could be. He doesn’t because that’s not how things are done, but the urge is powerful nonetheless.
Instead, they bury Ryan in Smallville, in the same graveyard where Clark’s grandparents are buried. Ryan James, it says, with dates and a nice inscription. He knows without asking that Lex is responsible for the carved angel near the gravesite, mask covering its eyes and arms folded over its chest as it stands guard.
“He was my friend too,” Lex says quietly, and Clark isn’t surprised that he’s here, isn’t surprised that he didn’t hear Lex coming, not with how his head has been in the clouds since - since. “Not for as long as he was yours, and certainly not in the same way or to the same extent, but I liked him, and I like to think that he liked me for more than my collection of comic books.”
“Yeah,” Clark says after a moment. “He was - he was a good kid.”
“He was certainly something special,” Lex murmurs as he squats down to inspect the headstone, and for a moment Clark feels that old urge swell up, deny and deflect and protect, but it fades quickly. Lex had been right about Ryan, after all, and it hardly matters now anyway. After a moment, Lex looks over his shoulder and smiles a little up at Clark, tapping the angel statue on the leg. “There’s only so much you can do for someone once they’ve passed, but I thought it was appropriate.”
“It made my mom cry,” Clark says. Lex’s eyes widen, and Clark adds, “In a good way, no, just - it reminded her of him, you know?” He hesitates. “I think she wanted to adopt him. I think she and my dad were talking about it, actually, before Ryan got sick.” Before you noticed he was sick, his mind needles, and Clark’s shoulders hunch.
“I’m sorry that this is something we now share, Clark.”
“I don’t think I follow,” Clark says after a minute. Lex stands up and smiles, but he’s looking out into the distance, not really focusing on anything at all.
“You know about Julian,” Lex says with a slight shrug. “I asked my father about Lucas after Rachel Dunleavy turned up. Apparently he was placed with a good family, and died before his first birthday.”
“I’m so sorry,” Clark says quietly. There’s nothing else to say, and he’s always known it, but now he understands it a little, too.
Lex shrugs again. “They say you can’t miss what you never had,” he says. “I’m not so sure I believe that any more.”
Clark nods and shoves his hands into the pockets in his jacket. “Only the good die young,” he offers after a minute, and he doesn’t mean to turn the end of it up like a question, but that’s how it comes out anyway.
Lex snorts. “What does it say about me that I’d rather die after a long, evil life than pass away tomorrow with clean hands?”
“That you’ve put too much thought into it,” Clark tosses back, chancing a look at Lex. There’s a smile on his face, so Clark smiles back a little.
“You’re probably right,” Lex agrees. “Listen, I’ve got a few mugs of hot chocolate and some old Warrior Angel comics we could read if you’re in the mood.”
Clark glances down at the grave, at the solemn figure keeping watch, and smiles as he looks back up at Lex. “That sounds good to me.”
This was originally posted at http://somehowunbroken.dreamwidth.org/184745.html, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.