Title: Understanding
Author: Lala
Pairing: Clark/Lana
Summary: All Clark wants is for someone to understand him…
Rating: Spoilers: None really, but let's say it's set after accelerate, just because of how close the two are.
Author's Notes: School starts for me tomorrow, and I wanted to write one last one shot before then.
Disclaimer: Yeah, Clark and Lana are mine. I have Kristin and Tom locked in my closet right now. If any of you believed that then I'm a good liar!
---
If Clark Kent had to pick one word to describe himself, it would be alienated.
It fit him in so many ways, but he felt it the most at times like this.
A soft breeze ruffled his dark locks as he walked outside, crickets chirping softly, but the night otherwise silent.
Ever since he'd learned he was an alien, he'd felt isolated. Cut off from everyone. He'd always felt different, knowing he had abilities that no one else he knew did.
But until the day when his father had finally told him the truth he'd felt that no matter what happened he would always be accepted.
Because he was the same.
He was only human, and his fellow piers would not reject him fully.
And though he still had friends, the best ones he could ever hope for, he felt like they hardly knew him.
Excluding Pete, he could never confide in any of his friends.
He had his parents of course, but he hated to burden them with petty problems that they couldn't relate to in the first place.
And neither could Pete.
He was relieved that someone besides his family knew his secret and regarded him as a friend, but he couldn't go to Pete with something like this.
He couldn't go to anyone with something like this.
He stood on the driveway, absently tossing a basketball from one hand to the other.
Abruptly he threw the ball away from him, watching and hearing the swish as it went through the net.
Again he repeated the motion, and again and again the ball would go into its target.
Throw, swish, bounce.
Throw, swish, bounce.
Throw, swish, bounce.
The actions and sounds were never endless, like the softly chirping crickets above the scene.
A normal person would never be able to make this many shots in a row.
A normal person would miss.
He wanted to be normal.
He wanted to miss.
He wanted to be a normal teenager and be able to spend time with Lana and be perfectly honest with her. He wanted to play basketball with Pete and lose once and a while.
He just wanted to fit in.
Was that so much to ask?
He moved until he was at the far end of his driveway, at a point where Pete would never make the basket.
But he made the shot splendidly.
Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't notice. Again and again he threw the ball and as before he scored each and every time.
Even with his vision blurred he couldn't miss!
It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair.
The ball rolled across the driveway, but he made no move to get it. Crystalline tears spilled over, as he sunk to the ground and drew his knees up to his chest.
The soft glow of the moon illuminated him as he huddled on the ground. Then it was blocked out by clouds, the darkness matching his mood of despair.
He cried silently, for the first time since he'd found out he was an alien and his life had changed.
On most days he never let this bother him, but not tonight.
Tonight he wanted wordless understanding. He wanted consolation and acceptance and love.
But he knew it wouldn't come.
Because he was different.
He was disgusting.
He was a creature incapable of being honest and therefore incapable of being trusted.
His body trembled as he panted and tried to calm down.
He never heard the car coming down the street. Only the honking of a horn alerted him to its presence and he raised his head slowly, blinking in an attempt to bring the car into clearer focus.
But a part of him didn't care. He didn't care if it were Lex or Pete; he didn't even care if it was his biological father come to take him back to the rebuilt Krypton.
He just wanted to be alone.
The person honked their horn again and he got up, moving to the porch steps and not looking back.
The person parked and opened the door, soft music echoing into the quiet evening.
Turning off her car, she got out and walked towards the house. When she'd first pulled up she'd seen someone sitting in the middle of the driveway, but it was too dark to make out who it had been.
She'd honked twice and they'd finally moved. Caught briefly in the headlights of her truck, it had looked a lot like Clark, but she couldn't be positive.
Heading for the house, she was surprised to find someone sitting on the porch steps.
As she walked closer, the light from the porch causing her to squint, she became certain it was Clark.
His face was pressed into his hands, and he was hunched forward, looking like a lost little boy in a department store with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.
Lana's heart went out to him and she sat down beside him. Strangled whimpers were coming from him, and he was shaking ever so slightly.
She placed a tentative hand on his back, wanting to do more yet also nervous to.
"Clark?" She spoke his name softly, as he had not seemed to take note of her yet.
At the sound of her voice he raised his head slowly. Though she's suspected he'd been crying, she still wasn't prepared for the sight of tears falling silently but clearly down his usually carefree face.
As she stared at him, concern and compassion growing, he seemed only now to feel the pressure of her hand on his back, just as she noticed that she was absently rubbing small soothing circles along it with her fingertips.
For the briefest of seconds, his watery eyes met heir's. Pain, anguish, and too many emotions for Lana to count stared back at her, and the urge to pull him to her was nearly overpowering.
Clark broke their eye contact and shrank away from her, but out of fear or shame she wasn't sure.
His name was on the tip of her tongue, but at the last second she changed her mind. She reluctantly removed her hand from his back and moved back from him.
He didn't seem to notice. He lowered his head, sniffing slightly but seeming relieved and no doubt thinking she was leaving.
Lana had other ideas, however. Reaching out, she touched his hand gently, before picking it up from where it rested on the leg of his jeans.
She held his hand silently, trying to convey all her compassion, all her love in that one gesture. And slowly, she felt him respond. His fingers squeezed hers, and he moved closer slightly.
Before she quite knew what was happening he was beside her again, their bodies not quite touching. He seemed hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure if this was what she wanted him to do, almost seeming scared that if he did the wrong thing or made the wrong move, she would indeed leave.
"Go ahead," she said in the softest of whispers, but Clark heard and after another second's hesitation complied.
His face was in her hair, tears soaking her neck. She could feel the trembling of his body as it pressed up against hers, and she released his hand and took him into her arms.
"L-L-Lana…" he gasped her name in a tremulous voice, returning the embrace and clinging to her as though his life depended on it.
"Shh, I'm here, Clark… I'm here."
He began sobbing wholeheartedly, and all Lana could do was hold onto him. She soon noticed that the sobs were punctuated by words, and she struggled to make them out.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean… didn't want you to… shouldn't see me like this… I just… I…"
She pressed a finger to his wet lips, silencing him with another "shh." "Clark… it's okay. You don't have to tell me, its okay, Clark. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay…"
At these words his hold tightened around her. His grip was almost painful but as though sensing this he relaxed his arms slightly.
"I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to, "she hastened to assure him.
"Please… don't. P-p-please…"
"Shh, don't talk. I won't, I promise." She smoothed his hair out of his face and placed a tentative kiss on his cheek.
Then she simply held him, not knowing what was bothering him but relieved that she was seeming to help.
He had never felt quite like this before. Lana was here, holding him, consoling him, even though she didn't know what was wrong. Even though he kept so much from her, lied to her, never opened up to her, she was still here.
Was it possible that she understood?
Did she ever just breakdown and cry without really knowing why?
He hoped so. Not because he wanted Lana to have to go through pain, but the thought of someone possibly understanding was the greatest comfort she could ever give him. The greatest comfort anyone could ever give him.
And as she rubbed his back and murmured soothing words into his chest, he was certain she did.
And though he didn't believe it possible, his love for Lana Lang grew.
Author: Lala
Pairing: Clark/Lana
Summary: All Clark wants is for someone to understand him…
Rating: Spoilers: None really, but let's say it's set after accelerate, just because of how close the two are.
Author's Notes: School starts for me tomorrow, and I wanted to write one last one shot before then.
Disclaimer: Yeah, Clark and Lana are mine. I have Kristin and Tom locked in my closet right now. If any of you believed that then I'm a good liar!
---
If Clark Kent had to pick one word to describe himself, it would be alienated.
It fit him in so many ways, but he felt it the most at times like this.
A soft breeze ruffled his dark locks as he walked outside, crickets chirping softly, but the night otherwise silent.
Ever since he'd learned he was an alien, he'd felt isolated. Cut off from everyone. He'd always felt different, knowing he had abilities that no one else he knew did.
But until the day when his father had finally told him the truth he'd felt that no matter what happened he would always be accepted.
Because he was the same.
He was only human, and his fellow piers would not reject him fully.
And though he still had friends, the best ones he could ever hope for, he felt like they hardly knew him.
Excluding Pete, he could never confide in any of his friends.
He had his parents of course, but he hated to burden them with petty problems that they couldn't relate to in the first place.
And neither could Pete.
He was relieved that someone besides his family knew his secret and regarded him as a friend, but he couldn't go to Pete with something like this.
He couldn't go to anyone with something like this.
He stood on the driveway, absently tossing a basketball from one hand to the other.
Abruptly he threw the ball away from him, watching and hearing the swish as it went through the net.
Again he repeated the motion, and again and again the ball would go into its target.
Throw, swish, bounce.
Throw, swish, bounce.
Throw, swish, bounce.
The actions and sounds were never endless, like the softly chirping crickets above the scene.
A normal person would never be able to make this many shots in a row.
A normal person would miss.
He wanted to be normal.
He wanted to miss.
He wanted to be a normal teenager and be able to spend time with Lana and be perfectly honest with her. He wanted to play basketball with Pete and lose once and a while.
He just wanted to fit in.
Was that so much to ask?
He moved until he was at the far end of his driveway, at a point where Pete would never make the basket.
But he made the shot splendidly.
Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't notice. Again and again he threw the ball and as before he scored each and every time.
Even with his vision blurred he couldn't miss!
It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair.
The ball rolled across the driveway, but he made no move to get it. Crystalline tears spilled over, as he sunk to the ground and drew his knees up to his chest.
The soft glow of the moon illuminated him as he huddled on the ground. Then it was blocked out by clouds, the darkness matching his mood of despair.
He cried silently, for the first time since he'd found out he was an alien and his life had changed.
On most days he never let this bother him, but not tonight.
Tonight he wanted wordless understanding. He wanted consolation and acceptance and love.
But he knew it wouldn't come.
Because he was different.
He was disgusting.
He was a creature incapable of being honest and therefore incapable of being trusted.
His body trembled as he panted and tried to calm down.
He never heard the car coming down the street. Only the honking of a horn alerted him to its presence and he raised his head slowly, blinking in an attempt to bring the car into clearer focus.
But a part of him didn't care. He didn't care if it were Lex or Pete; he didn't even care if it was his biological father come to take him back to the rebuilt Krypton.
He just wanted to be alone.
The person honked their horn again and he got up, moving to the porch steps and not looking back.
The person parked and opened the door, soft music echoing into the quiet evening.
Turning off her car, she got out and walked towards the house. When she'd first pulled up she'd seen someone sitting in the middle of the driveway, but it was too dark to make out who it had been.
She'd honked twice and they'd finally moved. Caught briefly in the headlights of her truck, it had looked a lot like Clark, but she couldn't be positive.
Heading for the house, she was surprised to find someone sitting on the porch steps.
As she walked closer, the light from the porch causing her to squint, she became certain it was Clark.
His face was pressed into his hands, and he was hunched forward, looking like a lost little boy in a department store with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.
Lana's heart went out to him and she sat down beside him. Strangled whimpers were coming from him, and he was shaking ever so slightly.
She placed a tentative hand on his back, wanting to do more yet also nervous to.
"Clark?" She spoke his name softly, as he had not seemed to take note of her yet.
At the sound of her voice he raised his head slowly. Though she's suspected he'd been crying, she still wasn't prepared for the sight of tears falling silently but clearly down his usually carefree face.
As she stared at him, concern and compassion growing, he seemed only now to feel the pressure of her hand on his back, just as she noticed that she was absently rubbing small soothing circles along it with her fingertips.
For the briefest of seconds, his watery eyes met heir's. Pain, anguish, and too many emotions for Lana to count stared back at her, and the urge to pull him to her was nearly overpowering.
Clark broke their eye contact and shrank away from her, but out of fear or shame she wasn't sure.
His name was on the tip of her tongue, but at the last second she changed her mind. She reluctantly removed her hand from his back and moved back from him.
He didn't seem to notice. He lowered his head, sniffing slightly but seeming relieved and no doubt thinking she was leaving.
Lana had other ideas, however. Reaching out, she touched his hand gently, before picking it up from where it rested on the leg of his jeans.
She held his hand silently, trying to convey all her compassion, all her love in that one gesture. And slowly, she felt him respond. His fingers squeezed hers, and he moved closer slightly.
Before she quite knew what was happening he was beside her again, their bodies not quite touching. He seemed hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure if this was what she wanted him to do, almost seeming scared that if he did the wrong thing or made the wrong move, she would indeed leave.
"Go ahead," she said in the softest of whispers, but Clark heard and after another second's hesitation complied.
His face was in her hair, tears soaking her neck. She could feel the trembling of his body as it pressed up against hers, and she released his hand and took him into her arms.
"L-L-Lana…" he gasped her name in a tremulous voice, returning the embrace and clinging to her as though his life depended on it.
"Shh, I'm here, Clark… I'm here."
He began sobbing wholeheartedly, and all Lana could do was hold onto him. She soon noticed that the sobs were punctuated by words, and she struggled to make them out.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean… didn't want you to… shouldn't see me like this… I just… I…"
She pressed a finger to his wet lips, silencing him with another "shh." "Clark… it's okay. You don't have to tell me, its okay, Clark. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay…"
At these words his hold tightened around her. His grip was almost painful but as though sensing this he relaxed his arms slightly.
"I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to, "she hastened to assure him.
"Please… don't. P-p-please…"
"Shh, don't talk. I won't, I promise." She smoothed his hair out of his face and placed a tentative kiss on his cheek.
Then she simply held him, not knowing what was bothering him but relieved that she was seeming to help.
He had never felt quite like this before. Lana was here, holding him, consoling him, even though she didn't know what was wrong. Even though he kept so much from her, lied to her, never opened up to her, she was still here.
Was it possible that she understood?
Did she ever just breakdown and cry without really knowing why?
He hoped so. Not because he wanted Lana to have to go through pain, but the thought of someone possibly understanding was the greatest comfort she could ever give him. The greatest comfort anyone could ever give him.
And as she rubbed his back and murmured soothing words into his chest, he was certain she did.
And though he didn't believe it possible, his love for Lana Lang grew.