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tallihensia2010-12-05 04:09 pm
seagull2eagle.livejournal.com) wrote in tallihensia2010-12-05 04:09 pm
Fic: The Journey Back (Smallville) Clex 1/4
Title: The Journey Back 1/4
Fandom: Smallville - Pairing: Clex
Rating: PG-13 - Size: 3,097 / 15,555
Type: Adventure, Romance, Drama
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Asylum, general early seasons
Summary: Lex wakes up to a future that is very different from the one he thought he would have. Why is he fighting Superman, and who is Lex Luthor?
Pre-note: I'm posting this story in four parts, a part per day, because it's got some things going on in it that would be better off read and absorbed in smaller doses instead of the whole thing at once. It's complete, so there's no doubt about it being all posted. But if you really hate reading in small doses, you can wait until Wednesday and then read the whole thing at once. ^^
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own in one full piece. (Put up after posting on journal was done.)
Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams. ;-) This story was written for free entertainment purposes only and may not be reproduced for profit or altered without permission.
Notes:
AU after end Season 6-ish (though since I haven't seen them, canon is flexible). Set ~6 years later. This was supposed to be for the h/c card 'brain washing/deprogramming'. Sortof. ^^;; Beta by Sue Dreams. Thank you so much! Title credit to Sue as well. ^^
Falling.
Lex remembered falling as his car crashed first into a young man, then into a railing, then into the air. In the air, he'd been falling, watching the world spin outside the window; protected, yet just as surely as doomed as the man he'd hit. Then Lex had flown over Smallville until he was brought back to life by the person he'd killed.
This time, Lex was over Metropolis and he wasn't protected and still doomed. He recognized the city even as he fell at a speed no one should experience unless they had a parachute on, and he had none (first thing he'd checked). Lex wished he could fly for real, then maybe he wouldn't die.
He kept his eyes open as he fell, determined not to miss a moment of his life, as few as those moments seemed to be left right now.
Then the world jerked, slowed, and righted itself as he was caught in strong arms and lifted up. Blinking, Lex looked below and confirmed that, yes, they were still in mid-air. He twisted to look at his rescuer, but before he could do so, he was thrown upon a roof.
Instinctively, Lex put out one arm and drew in his head and shoulder to roll in a diagonal, minimizing the danger to his skull and spine. In a ground-fight, the roll would also allow him to get back up in one motion; however, in this instance he had too much momentum from the toss to do that and instead simply skidded to a stop, losing a bit of skin along the way.
Slowly, he picked himself up, trying not to hiss at the asphalt burns.
"Be glad I was flying nearby, Luthor. Though I'm sure you probably deserved being thrown off the balcony by Ms. Sinclare after what you did to her fiancée."
Lex blinked. "Clark?" He rubbed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. Blue, red, and gold, in an outfit formfitting and revealing. A cape. "Did you say, 'flying'?"
Clark unfolded his arms and took a step backwards, shock written across his face. Then he frowned again and shifted his feet into an aggressive stance. "Don't think you can get away with it, Luthor. Even as we speak, the police are on their way."
He heard the words, but they weren't making any sense to him. "What are you wearing, Clark? It looks like something from Warrior Angel. Only a lot more colorful."
"Warrior..." Clark took another step backwards, then one to the side. "Luthor, what are you talking about? And why are you calling me Clark?" His voice wavered a bit.
There was something wrong here. Lex glanced off the side of the building and shuddered at the height. Then he looked back at Clark.
It definitely was Clark, no matter what he said. And yet... Lex's heart twisted as he took in details. "You're older," he said softly. He raised his own hand to look at it. There were lines on it that hadn't been there... when? Memory was... he couldn't remember. Lex raised a hand to his head as the world greyed out. He thought he heard Clark calling his name, but it was lost in the distance.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
Pain. His head hurt badly. At the least, it was another concussion. As he slid down the wall, barely managing not to fall over, Lex raised an unsteady hand to the side of his head and felt blood running down. His arm hurt too.
"Drop it, Luthor!"
Drop what? Sitting up, Lex brought his other hand into view so he could see it and he realized he held a gun. Or at least he thought it was a gun. It looked like some sort of Buck Rodgers futuristic toy.
"Luthor!"
The sound split open his skull. "Stop shouting, Clark," Lex muttered, and tossed the gun away. Then he raised both his hands to his head instead. In the glance he had around him, it looked like he was back on another rooftop. Did he spend all his time at dangerous heights?
There was an astonished silence somewhere in front of him. Then, very cautiously, his name. "Lex?"
Lex dropped his hands and focused. Yes, it was Clark again, in that same gaudy outfit. He looked... he looked wary, like he didn't trust Lex and couldn't trust Lex. It wasn't at all like the times that Clark lied to Lex when sometimes he looked like he wished he didn't... it wasn't like any look he'd seen on Clark. "Clark." Lex swallowed. "How long has it been?"
Clark took one step forward, emotions warring across his face. Hope and disbelief and worry and fear and mistrust. The fear was strong. "I'm not Clark..." he said tentatively.
Of all things to try and protest. Lex snorted. "You're as bad a liar as you ever were."
With a gulp, Clark took another step forward, the hope growing stronger in his eyes. Then an expression of pain flitted across his features and he stopped. "Your ring..."
Ring? Lex looked at his right hand and saw nothing. Then he looked at his left. The large stone on the ring glowed an evil green that Lex recognized. "Meteor rock." He looked up and took in the pale and sweating Clark in front of him and finally – after how many years... – he finally made the connection. He stripped off the ring and tossed it over the side of the building. "I'm sorry."
The sweating stopped and the faint green tinge to his skin retreated, but Clark still looked as if he was in enormous pain. "Lex." He took another step forward and raised his hand to the wound on Lex's head. "How? It's you. How can it be you?"
Lex's heart twisted in fear. "How long has it been?" And what had taken his place? For Clark to hate him so...
"What's the last thing you remember?" Clark asked. His hand moved to the side of Lex's face and stayed there, gently resting.
Remember... Lex frowned. He couldn't... "Falling. The plane was falling, I had no chute. Sand. Grubs. Hell in Paradise." No, that wasn't the last, but the images that floated through his head didn't make sense. "Painting, dropping my pills in the paint, other people all around. You, staring at me in fear as I yelled and attacked you. Why was I attacking you? Ian, both Ians, attacking you, hauling you off..." Lex blinked. "I was in a mental institution?" More flashes. "I shot Morgan Edge. And then you..." Lex raised his eyes to Clark in wonder. "You stopped the car; it broke around you." He lifted his own hand to Clark's cheek, touching him to see if he was real. "You're a miracle. You're alive. I did hit you at the river, and you're alive."
Clark bowed his head until his forehead touched Lex's and he cried. "Lex..."
"What have I done?" Lex wondered. "To make you hate me so much?" Lex tentatively touched Clark's back, not sure if he was allowed to hug him.
The hug he didn't dare was his a second later as Clark swept his arms around Lex and held him tight. It was too tight, and Lex felt his ribs compressing and his neck was at an awkward angle, but he wasn't complaining and he wasn't about to protest. Instead, he held on just as tightly back. It reminded him of the hug he'd gotten after he'd returned from the island. Had he been dead? Was he still?
"I thought it was you, a month ago... but then you were gone and it was just Luthor. Lex. Oh, God, Lex. I'm sorry. I tried to rescue you from Belle Reve, but I left it too long and I failed and you lost your memory and I'd thought it was okay, that you were still okay, but things just started going wrong and I didn't know... I didn't know. Lex."
"Chloe, my dad in jail," Lex said slowly, other memories filtering through imperfectly. "Have I become my father? I never wanted that..."
Clark didn't answer, he just held on.
Lex didn't want to move, yet in the distance he heard a roaring, as if he was in a raft on a river and a waterfall was coming up. "Clark, let go." He pushed at Clark's body.
Reluctantly, Clark dropped his arms. "Lex, what---?"
His vision was fading. Lex backed up until he hit the wall. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"No!"
The tunnel ate the word and then he was gone.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
More head pain, but when Lex opened his eyes this time he didn't see Clark, instead he saw an arrow in front of his face. Said arrow was resting rather insecurely in a cross-bow that had a finger quivering on the trigger. Prying his attention off the arrow, Lex looked beyond to dark glasses in a green leather hood. The little he could make out of the Caucasian features were twisted with hate.
"You fucking bastard. I should kill you right here, right now."
The insertion of the word 'should' meant that there were reasons not to. Lex frantically thought quickly. The world he remembered hadn't had a lot of costumed vigilantes; this world apparently held more. Costumes either meant heroes or villains, and villains didn’t normally hesitate. That meant this was probably one of the good guys. Maybe. "If I have done wrong, then take me in. Bring me to jail, and let them lock me up. Judge and jury decide who dies, not individuals. No one person is justice alone."
The finger tightened on the trigger. "You God-damn bull-shitting liar! Like you hold to that! You have enough money to bribe police and peers and judges, and you've escaped justice too long now. Goodbye, Lex Luthor."
Time slowed as Lex watched the cross-bow mechanism activate and death came his way. Maybe that was the wrong speech to try; Lex kept forgetting he really was a bastard in the here and now. Too late now.
Then a hand came between Lex's face and the arrow and took it away.
"What are you doing, Green Arrow?" A familiar voice, full of outrage and disappointment.
"He deserves to die, Superman! You know he does."
"Not this way." Clark put a hand on the green-clad shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "You know this, Green Arrow. We fight mutants that the police cannot. We are here to help citizens. We aid the lawful processes, but we are not, and cannot be, vigilantes."
"He escapes the law! Every damn time. And then more people die."
Clark didn't look at Lex. "We are not vigilantes," he repeated. "The citizens of the world would hate us as much as they do any criminal if we put ourselves outside that boundary. We serve them, not by death, but by life. Dealing death is not our role, not if we can help it."
The green vigilante spat on the ground, narrowly missing Lex. Then he turned and stalked away without saying another word.
Very softly, Clark sighed as he watched the other man walk away. Then he folded his arms across his chest and turned to Lex. "Luthor---" He paused as he watched Lex sit up, his head tilting to one side, a frown turning to hope.
"Superman?" Lex said incredulously. "Seriously, all the heroic names you could have come up with, and you call yourself 'Superman'? Ego there much?" He shook his head. "Not to mention unimaginative."
Clark blushed scarlet, proving he still had that capability. "I didn't chose it," he mumbled. "The newspapers kind of did." He waved a hand at the giant 'S' on his chest. "They misinterpreted the crest."
"Alexander the Great's breastplate. I remember," Lex said. He stood with a helping hand from Clark.
"I'd forgotten," Clark whispered. "Lex…" He held Lex's hand for long moment. Then he let go and drew back, looking around.
Lex looked around as well. This time they were in an alley. A dingy, smelly, alley. Well, it was an improvement from the rooftops in that at least it was on the ground.
"It's actually my family crest."
"What?" Lex returned his attention to Clark.
"The symbol." Clark again brushed his hand over it. "I didn't think about what it looked like in the Roman alphabet."
"Latin alphabet," Lex corrected. Then he blinked. "Family crest?" he said incredulously. "I didn't think that---" he clamped his mouth shut, remembering there might be other ears about.
Clark drew in a deep breath and looked at Lex with serious blue eyes. Blue eyes? Clark's eyes were green. But these were blue. Distracted, Lex missed the first few words Clark spoke.
"… alien." Clark finished speaking and gazed expectantly at Lex.
Lex couldn't think of a single thing to say other than, "What?"
"I'm an alien," Clark repeated patiently. "I was sent to Earth as a child when my planet was blown up. I am the last of my race, and I will do all I can to help humanity, for this is my home."
It sounded like a set speech. Lex shook his head. "Impossible."
"What?" It was Clark's turn to look baffled.
"Two arms, two legs, two eyes, a nose, a mouth," Lex listed out Clark's attributes. "There are hundreds of thousands of stars out there, and we know there must be intelligent life on some of them, but there is no way that an alien species looks just like us. The odds are astronomically against it. And I don't think shape-shifting is in your bag of tricks." He would have seen some sort of indication if there was – it was the sort of thing a teenager would have found irresistible. Even an alien teenager. "While there were definitely traces of alien life and visitation in Sma--- in town, logically the physiology should more resemble the creatures in the cave, which were not intelligent, but were definitely alien. You are in no shape, form, or way, a blob. "
Clark's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "God, I've missed you, Lex." He shrugged. "I don't know why, but most intelligent life forms in the galaxy look like this. Some variations on color and a little on shape – Atlantians have tails for the water, legs for land – but overall, yeah, we're all human. Er, human-looking, I mean. The Green Lantern Corps, the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman and Hawkwoman – they've got wings – Maxima…" At the last name, Clark grimaced and he trailed off.
Lex narrowed his eyes.
"Seriously." Clark spread his hands. "There's a theory that some very ancient race spread the seeds, or forced the development pattern to make it easier for later communication, or just some great Plan out there. Hey, you're the one who believes in destiny!"
And look at how that destiny had turned out. Lex turned his head.
Next to him, there was the sound of a gulp. "I'm sorry… I never told you."
Apparently, even superheroes were open to misinterpretation of actions. Lex turned back swiftly. "It's okay." He reached out and touched Clark's arm the way he used to when gently reassuring a teenager. "Don't tell me after all this time you still worry about what people think of you. With a whole city… world?… to look after, that must get tiring."
Adorably, Clark ducked his head. He wasn't that teenager anymore, not by several years, yet he was still Clark at the core. "Not everybody." His eyes darkened as his head came back up. "Yet there are a lot of people who think that if I'm alien, I'm out to rule the world, no matter what I say."
"They would never say that if they'd ever seen you sitting at a diner stuffing your face with a hamburger and mayonnaise and ketchup running down your chin. You're as much a part of this world as anybody, and you love it, all of it, and us." Lex knew that without any doubt. Nobody who knew Clark could possibly think that. Clark was… Clark was the person who told the Green Thing not to kill him, and that was when he thought Lex was Luthor. Clark would never betray his adopted homeworld. Not with the Kents behind him and proving that adopted parents could be more real than birth ones.
"Not many people have seen that," Clark said softly, "And I do."
There was another layer of meaning in there, and Lex caught his breath at the possible implication. "You can't, C---" he cut himself off. "What the Green Madman was saying… what I am."
"You're not." Clark advanced on Lex. "I recognize you. You recognize me. He does not. He's not you. I don't know… I don't know how it happened, but you're not."
"I am," Lex replied, sorrow catching at his being. "I remember… I do remember those things. Not all of it, especially not recently, but more of it than I'd mentioned before." The memory was coming back in bits and pieces, randomly floating through his mind. "I tortured somebody… with a glass of water?" Okay, that was a little confusing.
Clark's mouth quirked. "Aquaman. When he's on land, he needs water to survive."
It was still confusing. But there were other things. Lex stiffened, his breath drawing sharply in.
"Lex, don't go…" The pain in Clark's voice almost drew Lex out of his own.
It wasn't that time, not yet. "Zod." Lex trembled. "He took me over… I killed. I killed so many…" Another scene. Lex lifted his eyes to Clark's. "You should have killed me."
Clark shook his head, his expression stubborn and determined.
And really, Lex should have realized that. Clark would not kill in cold blood. But so many people… "Mutants." There was some image in his head, a sign, a number. "I… experimented?" Lex shuddered. There was a fine line in research and yet that was a brick wall that shouldn't ever have been crossed.
"With every word, you're convincing me more that you are not him," Clark said firmly. "He doesn't care. You do. That was always what confused me most, how he could just not care anymore."
Lex shook his head, still not convinced himself. Then he swayed. He lifted anguished eyes to Clark even as he backed up to where he'd first been lying.
"No," Clark whispered. "Lex, please…"
He tried not to let it, Lex really did, but the greyness still came up and over him.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
Fandom: Smallville - Pairing: Clex
Rating: PG-13 - Size: 3,097 / 15,555
Type: Adventure, Romance, Drama
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Asylum, general early seasons
Summary: Lex wakes up to a future that is very different from the one he thought he would have. Why is he fighting Superman, and who is Lex Luthor?
Pre-note: I'm posting this story in four parts, a part per day, because it's got some things going on in it that would be better off read and absorbed in smaller doses instead of the whole thing at once. It's complete, so there's no doubt about it being all posted. But if you really hate reading in small doses, you can wait until Wednesday and then read the whole thing at once. ^^
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own in one full piece. (Put up after posting on journal was done.)
Disclaimer: Only mine in my dreams. ;-) This story was written for free entertainment purposes only and may not be reproduced for profit or altered without permission.
Notes:
AU after end Season 6-ish (though since I haven't seen them, canon is flexible). Set ~6 years later. This was supposed to be for the h/c card 'brain washing/deprogramming'. Sortof. ^^;; Beta by Sue Dreams. Thank you so much! Title credit to Sue as well. ^^
The Journey Back
Falling.
Lex remembered falling as his car crashed first into a young man, then into a railing, then into the air. In the air, he'd been falling, watching the world spin outside the window; protected, yet just as surely as doomed as the man he'd hit. Then Lex had flown over Smallville until he was brought back to life by the person he'd killed.
This time, Lex was over Metropolis and he wasn't protected and still doomed. He recognized the city even as he fell at a speed no one should experience unless they had a parachute on, and he had none (first thing he'd checked). Lex wished he could fly for real, then maybe he wouldn't die.
He kept his eyes open as he fell, determined not to miss a moment of his life, as few as those moments seemed to be left right now.
Then the world jerked, slowed, and righted itself as he was caught in strong arms and lifted up. Blinking, Lex looked below and confirmed that, yes, they were still in mid-air. He twisted to look at his rescuer, but before he could do so, he was thrown upon a roof.
Instinctively, Lex put out one arm and drew in his head and shoulder to roll in a diagonal, minimizing the danger to his skull and spine. In a ground-fight, the roll would also allow him to get back up in one motion; however, in this instance he had too much momentum from the toss to do that and instead simply skidded to a stop, losing a bit of skin along the way.
Slowly, he picked himself up, trying not to hiss at the asphalt burns.
"Be glad I was flying nearby, Luthor. Though I'm sure you probably deserved being thrown off the balcony by Ms. Sinclare after what you did to her fiancée."
Lex blinked. "Clark?" He rubbed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. Blue, red, and gold, in an outfit formfitting and revealing. A cape. "Did you say, 'flying'?"
Clark unfolded his arms and took a step backwards, shock written across his face. Then he frowned again and shifted his feet into an aggressive stance. "Don't think you can get away with it, Luthor. Even as we speak, the police are on their way."
He heard the words, but they weren't making any sense to him. "What are you wearing, Clark? It looks like something from Warrior Angel. Only a lot more colorful."
"Warrior..." Clark took another step backwards, then one to the side. "Luthor, what are you talking about? And why are you calling me Clark?" His voice wavered a bit.
There was something wrong here. Lex glanced off the side of the building and shuddered at the height. Then he looked back at Clark.
It definitely was Clark, no matter what he said. And yet... Lex's heart twisted as he took in details. "You're older," he said softly. He raised his own hand to look at it. There were lines on it that hadn't been there... when? Memory was... he couldn't remember. Lex raised a hand to his head as the world greyed out. He thought he heard Clark calling his name, but it was lost in the distance.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
Pain. His head hurt badly. At the least, it was another concussion. As he slid down the wall, barely managing not to fall over, Lex raised an unsteady hand to the side of his head and felt blood running down. His arm hurt too.
"Drop it, Luthor!"
Drop what? Sitting up, Lex brought his other hand into view so he could see it and he realized he held a gun. Or at least he thought it was a gun. It looked like some sort of Buck Rodgers futuristic toy.
"Luthor!"
The sound split open his skull. "Stop shouting, Clark," Lex muttered, and tossed the gun away. Then he raised both his hands to his head instead. In the glance he had around him, it looked like he was back on another rooftop. Did he spend all his time at dangerous heights?
There was an astonished silence somewhere in front of him. Then, very cautiously, his name. "Lex?"
Lex dropped his hands and focused. Yes, it was Clark again, in that same gaudy outfit. He looked... he looked wary, like he didn't trust Lex and couldn't trust Lex. It wasn't at all like the times that Clark lied to Lex when sometimes he looked like he wished he didn't... it wasn't like any look he'd seen on Clark. "Clark." Lex swallowed. "How long has it been?"
Clark took one step forward, emotions warring across his face. Hope and disbelief and worry and fear and mistrust. The fear was strong. "I'm not Clark..." he said tentatively.
Of all things to try and protest. Lex snorted. "You're as bad a liar as you ever were."
With a gulp, Clark took another step forward, the hope growing stronger in his eyes. Then an expression of pain flitted across his features and he stopped. "Your ring..."
Ring? Lex looked at his right hand and saw nothing. Then he looked at his left. The large stone on the ring glowed an evil green that Lex recognized. "Meteor rock." He looked up and took in the pale and sweating Clark in front of him and finally – after how many years... – he finally made the connection. He stripped off the ring and tossed it over the side of the building. "I'm sorry."
The sweating stopped and the faint green tinge to his skin retreated, but Clark still looked as if he was in enormous pain. "Lex." He took another step forward and raised his hand to the wound on Lex's head. "How? It's you. How can it be you?"
Lex's heart twisted in fear. "How long has it been?" And what had taken his place? For Clark to hate him so...
"What's the last thing you remember?" Clark asked. His hand moved to the side of Lex's face and stayed there, gently resting.
Remember... Lex frowned. He couldn't... "Falling. The plane was falling, I had no chute. Sand. Grubs. Hell in Paradise." No, that wasn't the last, but the images that floated through his head didn't make sense. "Painting, dropping my pills in the paint, other people all around. You, staring at me in fear as I yelled and attacked you. Why was I attacking you? Ian, both Ians, attacking you, hauling you off..." Lex blinked. "I was in a mental institution?" More flashes. "I shot Morgan Edge. And then you..." Lex raised his eyes to Clark in wonder. "You stopped the car; it broke around you." He lifted his own hand to Clark's cheek, touching him to see if he was real. "You're a miracle. You're alive. I did hit you at the river, and you're alive."
Clark bowed his head until his forehead touched Lex's and he cried. "Lex..."
"What have I done?" Lex wondered. "To make you hate me so much?" Lex tentatively touched Clark's back, not sure if he was allowed to hug him.
The hug he didn't dare was his a second later as Clark swept his arms around Lex and held him tight. It was too tight, and Lex felt his ribs compressing and his neck was at an awkward angle, but he wasn't complaining and he wasn't about to protest. Instead, he held on just as tightly back. It reminded him of the hug he'd gotten after he'd returned from the island. Had he been dead? Was he still?
"I thought it was you, a month ago... but then you were gone and it was just Luthor. Lex. Oh, God, Lex. I'm sorry. I tried to rescue you from Belle Reve, but I left it too long and I failed and you lost your memory and I'd thought it was okay, that you were still okay, but things just started going wrong and I didn't know... I didn't know. Lex."
"Chloe, my dad in jail," Lex said slowly, other memories filtering through imperfectly. "Have I become my father? I never wanted that..."
Clark didn't answer, he just held on.
Lex didn't want to move, yet in the distance he heard a roaring, as if he was in a raft on a river and a waterfall was coming up. "Clark, let go." He pushed at Clark's body.
Reluctantly, Clark dropped his arms. "Lex, what---?"
His vision was fading. Lex backed up until he hit the wall. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"No!"
The tunnel ate the word and then he was gone.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
More head pain, but when Lex opened his eyes this time he didn't see Clark, instead he saw an arrow in front of his face. Said arrow was resting rather insecurely in a cross-bow that had a finger quivering on the trigger. Prying his attention off the arrow, Lex looked beyond to dark glasses in a green leather hood. The little he could make out of the Caucasian features were twisted with hate.
"You fucking bastard. I should kill you right here, right now."
The insertion of the word 'should' meant that there were reasons not to. Lex frantically thought quickly. The world he remembered hadn't had a lot of costumed vigilantes; this world apparently held more. Costumes either meant heroes or villains, and villains didn’t normally hesitate. That meant this was probably one of the good guys. Maybe. "If I have done wrong, then take me in. Bring me to jail, and let them lock me up. Judge and jury decide who dies, not individuals. No one person is justice alone."
The finger tightened on the trigger. "You God-damn bull-shitting liar! Like you hold to that! You have enough money to bribe police and peers and judges, and you've escaped justice too long now. Goodbye, Lex Luthor."
Time slowed as Lex watched the cross-bow mechanism activate and death came his way. Maybe that was the wrong speech to try; Lex kept forgetting he really was a bastard in the here and now. Too late now.
Then a hand came between Lex's face and the arrow and took it away.
"What are you doing, Green Arrow?" A familiar voice, full of outrage and disappointment.
"He deserves to die, Superman! You know he does."
"Not this way." Clark put a hand on the green-clad shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "You know this, Green Arrow. We fight mutants that the police cannot. We are here to help citizens. We aid the lawful processes, but we are not, and cannot be, vigilantes."
"He escapes the law! Every damn time. And then more people die."
Clark didn't look at Lex. "We are not vigilantes," he repeated. "The citizens of the world would hate us as much as they do any criminal if we put ourselves outside that boundary. We serve them, not by death, but by life. Dealing death is not our role, not if we can help it."
The green vigilante spat on the ground, narrowly missing Lex. Then he turned and stalked away without saying another word.
Very softly, Clark sighed as he watched the other man walk away. Then he folded his arms across his chest and turned to Lex. "Luthor---" He paused as he watched Lex sit up, his head tilting to one side, a frown turning to hope.
"Superman?" Lex said incredulously. "Seriously, all the heroic names you could have come up with, and you call yourself 'Superman'? Ego there much?" He shook his head. "Not to mention unimaginative."
Clark blushed scarlet, proving he still had that capability. "I didn't chose it," he mumbled. "The newspapers kind of did." He waved a hand at the giant 'S' on his chest. "They misinterpreted the crest."
"Alexander the Great's breastplate. I remember," Lex said. He stood with a helping hand from Clark.
"I'd forgotten," Clark whispered. "Lex…" He held Lex's hand for long moment. Then he let go and drew back, looking around.
Lex looked around as well. This time they were in an alley. A dingy, smelly, alley. Well, it was an improvement from the rooftops in that at least it was on the ground.
"It's actually my family crest."
"What?" Lex returned his attention to Clark.
"The symbol." Clark again brushed his hand over it. "I didn't think about what it looked like in the Roman alphabet."
"Latin alphabet," Lex corrected. Then he blinked. "Family crest?" he said incredulously. "I didn't think that---" he clamped his mouth shut, remembering there might be other ears about.
Clark drew in a deep breath and looked at Lex with serious blue eyes. Blue eyes? Clark's eyes were green. But these were blue. Distracted, Lex missed the first few words Clark spoke.
"… alien." Clark finished speaking and gazed expectantly at Lex.
Lex couldn't think of a single thing to say other than, "What?"
"I'm an alien," Clark repeated patiently. "I was sent to Earth as a child when my planet was blown up. I am the last of my race, and I will do all I can to help humanity, for this is my home."
It sounded like a set speech. Lex shook his head. "Impossible."
"What?" It was Clark's turn to look baffled.
"Two arms, two legs, two eyes, a nose, a mouth," Lex listed out Clark's attributes. "There are hundreds of thousands of stars out there, and we know there must be intelligent life on some of them, but there is no way that an alien species looks just like us. The odds are astronomically against it. And I don't think shape-shifting is in your bag of tricks." He would have seen some sort of indication if there was – it was the sort of thing a teenager would have found irresistible. Even an alien teenager. "While there were definitely traces of alien life and visitation in Sma--- in town, logically the physiology should more resemble the creatures in the cave, which were not intelligent, but were definitely alien. You are in no shape, form, or way, a blob. "
Clark's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "God, I've missed you, Lex." He shrugged. "I don't know why, but most intelligent life forms in the galaxy look like this. Some variations on color and a little on shape – Atlantians have tails for the water, legs for land – but overall, yeah, we're all human. Er, human-looking, I mean. The Green Lantern Corps, the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman and Hawkwoman – they've got wings – Maxima…" At the last name, Clark grimaced and he trailed off.
Lex narrowed his eyes.
"Seriously." Clark spread his hands. "There's a theory that some very ancient race spread the seeds, or forced the development pattern to make it easier for later communication, or just some great Plan out there. Hey, you're the one who believes in destiny!"
And look at how that destiny had turned out. Lex turned his head.
Next to him, there was the sound of a gulp. "I'm sorry… I never told you."
Apparently, even superheroes were open to misinterpretation of actions. Lex turned back swiftly. "It's okay." He reached out and touched Clark's arm the way he used to when gently reassuring a teenager. "Don't tell me after all this time you still worry about what people think of you. With a whole city… world?… to look after, that must get tiring."
Adorably, Clark ducked his head. He wasn't that teenager anymore, not by several years, yet he was still Clark at the core. "Not everybody." His eyes darkened as his head came back up. "Yet there are a lot of people who think that if I'm alien, I'm out to rule the world, no matter what I say."
"They would never say that if they'd ever seen you sitting at a diner stuffing your face with a hamburger and mayonnaise and ketchup running down your chin. You're as much a part of this world as anybody, and you love it, all of it, and us." Lex knew that without any doubt. Nobody who knew Clark could possibly think that. Clark was… Clark was the person who told the Green Thing not to kill him, and that was when he thought Lex was Luthor. Clark would never betray his adopted homeworld. Not with the Kents behind him and proving that adopted parents could be more real than birth ones.
"Not many people have seen that," Clark said softly, "And I do."
There was another layer of meaning in there, and Lex caught his breath at the possible implication. "You can't, C---" he cut himself off. "What the Green Madman was saying… what I am."
"You're not." Clark advanced on Lex. "I recognize you. You recognize me. He does not. He's not you. I don't know… I don't know how it happened, but you're not."
"I am," Lex replied, sorrow catching at his being. "I remember… I do remember those things. Not all of it, especially not recently, but more of it than I'd mentioned before." The memory was coming back in bits and pieces, randomly floating through his mind. "I tortured somebody… with a glass of water?" Okay, that was a little confusing.
Clark's mouth quirked. "Aquaman. When he's on land, he needs water to survive."
It was still confusing. But there were other things. Lex stiffened, his breath drawing sharply in.
"Lex, don't go…" The pain in Clark's voice almost drew Lex out of his own.
It wasn't that time, not yet. "Zod." Lex trembled. "He took me over… I killed. I killed so many…" Another scene. Lex lifted his eyes to Clark's. "You should have killed me."
Clark shook his head, his expression stubborn and determined.
And really, Lex should have realized that. Clark would not kill in cold blood. But so many people… "Mutants." There was some image in his head, a sign, a number. "I… experimented?" Lex shuddered. There was a fine line in research and yet that was a brick wall that shouldn't ever have been crossed.
"With every word, you're convincing me more that you are not him," Clark said firmly. "He doesn't care. You do. That was always what confused me most, how he could just not care anymore."
Lex shook his head, still not convinced himself. Then he swayed. He lifted anguished eyes to Clark even as he backed up to where he'd first been lying.
"No," Clark whispered. "Lex, please…"
He tried not to let it, Lex really did, but the greyness still came up and over him.
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"They would never say that if they'd ever seen you sitting at a diner stuffing your face with a hamburger and mayonnaise and ketchup running down your chin. You're as much a part of this world as anybody, and you love it, all of it, and us."
AWW ;___; that's so sweet I can't even..!
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*goes off to read the next chapter*
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I also love that old school Lex can recognize Clark, and the Clark instantly recognizes him, and I'm thrilled that you've made our Clark the hero he's supposed to be. Protecting even Luthor from being killed in cold blood.
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Not that it really matters, but while Lex does instantly recognize Clark, Clark didn't actually instantly recognize Lex. Clark had some time between the first and second meetings to think about what had happened there. Didn't want to go into much on that in the fic since for Lex, not much time had passed and he was still confused himself. I vaguely thought about writing an accompanying Clark POV storyline, but it was really Lex's that was the most interesting. ^^
I was talking to some other fans and came up with a phrase for my writing style in most of the stories - I use Smallville Lex and DC Clark with a Smallville background. So Lex can rise up to his potential of the Smallville, without being the insane idiot he usually is in DC, and Clark gets to be the Superman we like in the comics without the selfishness of the Smallville canon. ^_^
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I like your version a lot. He's everything I was hoping Clark would be on Smallville.
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