Title: Discovery
Rating: PG-13
Notes: This took forever to get out. I'm really, really sorry. I wanted to make sure I did this right. Thanks for reading!
~*~
The next morning, Lex headed over to the Kent farm. He wanted to ask Clark about the dream, and see if the boy remembered anything.
Not that he would tell Lex if he did. If that had something to do with Clark's secret, there was no way that he would get a straight answer.
Well, hell, a guy could try, right?
"Clark!" he called into the barn. Clark, dressed in old jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, poked his head over the railing. The smile that crossed his face could have lit Metropolis for a year.
"Lex! What's up, man?" Clark asked, coming down to meet him. Lex smiled at him and said,
"Nothing much. Just came by to see how you were doing." It wasn't a lie; he enjoyed checking up on Clark. It reassured him, knowing that the boy was relatively safe, at least for the time being.
Clark laughed, and then grew serious.
"Are you okay, Lex? You look tired. Late night?" Lex smiled. Clark had given him the opening he needed.
"Actually, no. I turned in early last night. I don't usually."
"How come?" Clark asked, curious. He led Lex up into the second floor, which was littered with papers and books. A school thing, no doubt.
"I have dreams. Bad dreams." Suddenly, Clark looked a little worried.
"Did you have one last night?"
"Sort of. It wasn't a dream. More of a memory." Lex said smoothly. Clark would take the bait.
"A memory of what?" Clark asked, curious. Lex smiled and said,
"The day I lost my hair."
~*~
Clark froze. He, himself, remembered some of that day. Not a lot, of course, but he knew that there was a chance Lex had seen him there.
"I didn't really remember a lot of what happened; at least, not until now." Lex said, putting his hands into his pockets.
Clark tried to make his face impassive. What did Lex remember? If he was Clark in the field.
Oh, god! What if he -had-? He would know that something wasn't right!
"I was with my father," Lex started, and his eyes got a little unfocused. He started outside, and Clark followed. They leaned against the railing, and Clark fixed his gaze on Lex.
"We were stopped in the field. I wandered off, because I was bored and more than a little angry with my father."
"How come?" Clark asked softly. Lex glanced at him and said,
"He had just taken me from boarding school. It was the only one I ever liked. I actually had a friend there." Lex smiled softly. "Bailey Prescott."
Clark chuckled. The name sounded like someone from Lionel's crowd. He supposed it was Lex's crowd, too, but he had never though of Lex as one of -them-.
"Anyway, I wandered into the field, and then I looked up. I remember seeing the meteor coming, and I ran. But I wasn't fast enough. I passed out."
Clark made a strangled sound. He had known that he was responsible for Lex's hair loss and many of the deaths in town that day, but hearing it from Lex really drove it home.
"I remember waking up again, and hearing my father's voice. Then, I passed out again." Lex smiled, a little embarrassed. He hadn't really been one for passing out, and it was kind of humiliating.
But Clark's eyes held no judgement, and Lex flashed back to the little boy sitting next to him.
The little boy with Clark's eyes.
"Then, I woke up again. This time, I was in my father's arms. He wasn't used to holding things, so he was stiff and it wasn't very comfortable. We were in your father's truck, though I didn't know it then. Anyway, I heard my father ask Jonathan what was in the back, because it was slowing us down."
Clark stiffened slightly, but didn't stop him.
"I tried to open my eyes, but it was hard. I felt terrible; my head ached, my body was sore, and something was wrong with my head."
Clark uttered another strangled sound, and Lex pretended not to hear it.
It seemed he had stumbled onto the key to Clark's secret. Who would have thought he had it the whole time?
"When I finally managed it, I found myself staring at three people. Jonathan Kent, Martha Kent-" he looked at Clark, who wasn't breathing anymore.
"And a little boy who reminds me of you. You know what happened then? That little boy smiled at me. I remember because no one had ever smiled at me like that, except for my mother. I remember thinking: what did I do to deserve such a smile? That boy reached out and ran his hand down my face."
Clark still wasn't breathing, Lex noticed. His grin softened.
"It felt good; oddly soothing, which was odd as well. I passed out again, and then I woke up in the hospital. My father told me about my hair, and I remember feeling so upset."
Clark started breathing again and Lex continued,
"My hair was the last thing I had of my mother. It was her shade, and it was -mine-, so my father couldn't take it from me."
Clark felt like a monster. He had taken Lex's greatest treasure from him, and Lex sounded so upset.
"Clark, you know why I'm telling you this?"
"Because I'm cheaper than a therapist?" Clark joked weakly. Lex smiled and said gently,
"No, Clark. I told you this because I think that little boy was you." Clark closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
"The years match, Clark, and his eyes looked just like yours." Clark stepped back and said weakly,
"Come on, Lex. You know that wasn't me."
"Clark," Lex said gently, moving closer. "That -was-you. Why else would your parents have you in that car? Why else would the dates and ages math so closely? That was you, wasn't it, Clark?" Clark raised his eyes to Lex's and pleaded, desperately,
"Don't ask me that!"
"Why not?" Lex demanded. His voice was a mix of exasperation, pleading, and hurt.
"Because I can't tell you the truth!" Clark said without thinking, and then he froze. Lex smiled, but it was a soft, gentle smile.
"Clark, listen to me. I hit you on that bridge. I know it. I remember seeing you, and feeling so guilty because I have taken another's life. A person who so obviously had so much to live for."
Again, Clark stopped breathing.
"When I woke up and saw you again, you know what that first thing I thought was?"
"What?" Clark asked weakly.
"'Thank you, God, for not taking this beautiful boy.'"
Clark gasped, and stepped back.
The urge to tell Lex was so strong it was almost impossibly to fight.
Why shouldn't he? Why was Lex so dangerous?
Clark had seen Lex at his best and his worst, and trusted Lex wholeheartedly. Why should his friendship with Lex suffer because his -father- had a grudge? It wasn't fair, to either of them, but Lex especially.
Clark took a deep breath, looked at Lex's soft eyes, and said,
"Lex, I have something I need to tell you."
~*~
Well, what did you think? I hope it's ok, because it took forever to get out.
Any ideas about the next chapter? I'm not sure, yet, if they should experiment right after or wait a little while.
Thanks again for reading!!
Rating: PG-13
Notes: This took forever to get out. I'm really, really sorry. I wanted to make sure I did this right. Thanks for reading!
~*~
The next morning, Lex headed over to the Kent farm. He wanted to ask Clark about the dream, and see if the boy remembered anything.
Not that he would tell Lex if he did. If that had something to do with Clark's secret, there was no way that he would get a straight answer.
Well, hell, a guy could try, right?
"Clark!" he called into the barn. Clark, dressed in old jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, poked his head over the railing. The smile that crossed his face could have lit Metropolis for a year.
"Lex! What's up, man?" Clark asked, coming down to meet him. Lex smiled at him and said,
"Nothing much. Just came by to see how you were doing." It wasn't a lie; he enjoyed checking up on Clark. It reassured him, knowing that the boy was relatively safe, at least for the time being.
Clark laughed, and then grew serious.
"Are you okay, Lex? You look tired. Late night?" Lex smiled. Clark had given him the opening he needed.
"Actually, no. I turned in early last night. I don't usually."
"How come?" Clark asked, curious. He led Lex up into the second floor, which was littered with papers and books. A school thing, no doubt.
"I have dreams. Bad dreams." Suddenly, Clark looked a little worried.
"Did you have one last night?"
"Sort of. It wasn't a dream. More of a memory." Lex said smoothly. Clark would take the bait.
"A memory of what?" Clark asked, curious. Lex smiled and said,
"The day I lost my hair."
~*~
Clark froze. He, himself, remembered some of that day. Not a lot, of course, but he knew that there was a chance Lex had seen him there.
"I didn't really remember a lot of what happened; at least, not until now." Lex said, putting his hands into his pockets.
Clark tried to make his face impassive. What did Lex remember? If he was Clark in the field.
Oh, god! What if he -had-? He would know that something wasn't right!
"I was with my father," Lex started, and his eyes got a little unfocused. He started outside, and Clark followed. They leaned against the railing, and Clark fixed his gaze on Lex.
"We were stopped in the field. I wandered off, because I was bored and more than a little angry with my father."
"How come?" Clark asked softly. Lex glanced at him and said,
"He had just taken me from boarding school. It was the only one I ever liked. I actually had a friend there." Lex smiled softly. "Bailey Prescott."
Clark chuckled. The name sounded like someone from Lionel's crowd. He supposed it was Lex's crowd, too, but he had never though of Lex as one of -them-.
"Anyway, I wandered into the field, and then I looked up. I remember seeing the meteor coming, and I ran. But I wasn't fast enough. I passed out."
Clark made a strangled sound. He had known that he was responsible for Lex's hair loss and many of the deaths in town that day, but hearing it from Lex really drove it home.
"I remember waking up again, and hearing my father's voice. Then, I passed out again." Lex smiled, a little embarrassed. He hadn't really been one for passing out, and it was kind of humiliating.
But Clark's eyes held no judgement, and Lex flashed back to the little boy sitting next to him.
The little boy with Clark's eyes.
"Then, I woke up again. This time, I was in my father's arms. He wasn't used to holding things, so he was stiff and it wasn't very comfortable. We were in your father's truck, though I didn't know it then. Anyway, I heard my father ask Jonathan what was in the back, because it was slowing us down."
Clark stiffened slightly, but didn't stop him.
"I tried to open my eyes, but it was hard. I felt terrible; my head ached, my body was sore, and something was wrong with my head."
Clark uttered another strangled sound, and Lex pretended not to hear it.
It seemed he had stumbled onto the key to Clark's secret. Who would have thought he had it the whole time?
"When I finally managed it, I found myself staring at three people. Jonathan Kent, Martha Kent-" he looked at Clark, who wasn't breathing anymore.
"And a little boy who reminds me of you. You know what happened then? That little boy smiled at me. I remember because no one had ever smiled at me like that, except for my mother. I remember thinking: what did I do to deserve such a smile? That boy reached out and ran his hand down my face."
Clark still wasn't breathing, Lex noticed. His grin softened.
"It felt good; oddly soothing, which was odd as well. I passed out again, and then I woke up in the hospital. My father told me about my hair, and I remember feeling so upset."
Clark started breathing again and Lex continued,
"My hair was the last thing I had of my mother. It was her shade, and it was -mine-, so my father couldn't take it from me."
Clark felt like a monster. He had taken Lex's greatest treasure from him, and Lex sounded so upset.
"Clark, you know why I'm telling you this?"
"Because I'm cheaper than a therapist?" Clark joked weakly. Lex smiled and said gently,
"No, Clark. I told you this because I think that little boy was you." Clark closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
"The years match, Clark, and his eyes looked just like yours." Clark stepped back and said weakly,
"Come on, Lex. You know that wasn't me."
"Clark," Lex said gently, moving closer. "That -was-you. Why else would your parents have you in that car? Why else would the dates and ages math so closely? That was you, wasn't it, Clark?" Clark raised his eyes to Lex's and pleaded, desperately,
"Don't ask me that!"
"Why not?" Lex demanded. His voice was a mix of exasperation, pleading, and hurt.
"Because I can't tell you the truth!" Clark said without thinking, and then he froze. Lex smiled, but it was a soft, gentle smile.
"Clark, listen to me. I hit you on that bridge. I know it. I remember seeing you, and feeling so guilty because I have taken another's life. A person who so obviously had so much to live for."
Again, Clark stopped breathing.
"When I woke up and saw you again, you know what that first thing I thought was?"
"What?" Clark asked weakly.
"'Thank you, God, for not taking this beautiful boy.'"
Clark gasped, and stepped back.
The urge to tell Lex was so strong it was almost impossibly to fight.
Why shouldn't he? Why was Lex so dangerous?
Clark had seen Lex at his best and his worst, and trusted Lex wholeheartedly. Why should his friendship with Lex suffer because his -father- had a grudge? It wasn't fair, to either of them, but Lex especially.
Clark took a deep breath, looked at Lex's soft eyes, and said,
"Lex, I have something I need to tell you."
~*~
Well, what did you think? I hope it's ok, because it took forever to get out.
Any ideas about the next chapter? I'm not sure, yet, if they should experiment right after or wait a little while.
Thanks again for reading!!
