Title: Betrayal is Universal
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or any of it's characters. Nor do I do this to gain any financial benefit. My only reward is any feedback I get, which would be greatly appreciated.
Summary: Clark's thoughts and then Lex's post Shattered. See how sinister a farm boy's thoughts can be. And what are Lex's thoughts while in Belle Reve?
(A/N): First ever Smallville fic. Although I'm a Lex fan at heart, my desire to write something angsty greatly exceeds my desire to write a "Lex gets out" fic. Angst is like a warm familiar blanket. I believe that through the writer's, Clark Kent's experiences are possibly creating a darker Superman than the one we previously grew up watching.But for angst writer's like myself that isn't necessarily a bad thing. On the bright side, if you can find the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' reference, you'll get a special treat!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Clark's POV:
The guilt is overwhelming. Sleeping, without waking up from the nightmares I later recall as memories. Keeping down food as I look up at the loving smiles my parents give me. These things I used to do daily, now, they drain me of my strength, worst than the meteor rocks ever could. Instead of draining my body, this pain plagues my heart. It's so strong it even pales in comparison to Lana's realization that a life with me was too dangerous. How could I have disappeared, leaving Lex to the fate his father has doomed him to? Lex saw what I was capable. He knew I wasn't human and in mere seconds I knew he was a threat. A threat that must be taken care of. I knowingly left him to save myself. To keep my secret safe. My dad would be so proud of me. The bitterness I feel at that thought makes my stomach churn and I have to force myself to keep the little dinner I was able to digest.
I left Lex to be wrongfully drugged, prodded and experimented on. Someone I had defended and repeated called a friend. My betrayal is like a hard slap in the face. Could the ruthlessness I displayed been so easy because of my heritage? Am I truly cold and heartless enough to one day rule the world? To show the people I care about passive indifference and betray them if it's to my own advantage? I carry with me the hopes and dreams of a world I know nothing about. The last son of Krypton. In my dreams, I see myself time and time again, saving Lex's life, then leaving him on the ground. Who am I to decide his fate? To allow him to wither away in Belle Reve. But each time I have longer and longer to decide whether or not to leave him. Each dream, the gap between when Lex discovered my secret and when Lex's psychiatrist came to lock him away grows longer and longer, causing the familiar constricting in my chest to take longing to subside. The very idea of me considering leaving my friend among the wolves is sickening. The only thing that tops it is my decision. When I abandon my friend and I feel a sharp blow to my chest. Like a knife was plunged straight into my back, much like the one I stuck in Lex's back.
Ever since I realized how much I can help people with my powers, save lives with the abilities I have, I've always tried to do what's right. Stand for truth, justice and the American way, whatever the Hell that's supposed to mean. But day after day, month after month it has become painfully clear that the world isn't always black and white. It seems fitting that I adapt that Luthorian belief. Soon I'll be studying Machiavellian tactics. The end justifies the means, indeed. At first I tried to justify my actions to myself, reasoning that Lex would expose my secret, but each time my disappointment and self-disgust just grew, appalled at how little faith I had in Lex. Perhaps the vision Sarah gave me when Lex found out by himself that I wasn't human was still in the back of my mind, urging me to save my own ass. No. This couldn't be the same person who risked his life to save people on a weekly basis. Where's the hero? The champion?
As many powers as I may have, turning back time isn't one of them. Now, all I'm left with is regrets. Much like Judas Iscariot. Only after the act did he realize just how tarnished thirty pieces of silver can get. But is my protection any less important to me, after abandoning Lex? No. Not at all. And that's why I can't find any rest. Not just because Lex is suffering, but because I'm not sorry I left him. I know in my heart and soul that if I had it to do all over again, I'd leave him to madness. In the care of his bastard father and treacherous psychiatrist. But who am I to throw stones? Lionel and I, we're two peas in a pod, doing whatever it takes for our secrets to be hidden from the world. Yet, if my betrayal were linked to my heritage, wouldn't that make me more like Lex? Both of us unable to deny the blood that flows through our veins, forcing us to commit acts we know are morally wrong. If that's the case, and our destines are intertwined, will someone betray me, continuing the cycle. Poetic justice, I'd suppose. But could I possibly end the cycle by saving Lex? If I'll ever find peace, I need to save Lex. Unfortunately, after leaving him, I'm not even sure why I'm saving him. Can I honestly say I'm saving him because it's the right thing to do?
Then again, should I leave Lex in there until I'm certain he doesn't remember my secret?
You know. Just in case.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lex's POV:
It's so bright in here. My eyes hurt. Why can't I hear him anymore? The baby isn't crying. All that's left is silence. The stillness is deafening. My head hurts and my arms are cramping. Where's Clark to save me? He always does. My memories have been getting patchy ever since my bitch of a psychiatrist injected me with something. I still remember though. The car barreling toward me. Clark pushing me out the way. And then Clark's body cutting through the car like a hot knife in butter. Why did Clark leave me? Doesn't he know I love him like my own brother? Why is the baby so still? I can't hear it crying. My arm is throbbing and a thick fog clouds over in my head.
Reliving the memory I don't remember as my own, the feeling of me hitting the ground is merely a shadow. Everything is hazy. Squinting my mind's eye to make out the fuzzy picture, I see a figure standing in front of what seems to be a car. On impact with the figure, the car splits in two, like Moses parting the Red Sea. Who is this savior? Surely, he will come to save me. I feel myself grin, my cut lip cracking open, bleeding once again. I wish I could remember when it bled the first time. No matter. I sit down and cross my legs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my hero. Frowning, I try to remember my hero's face and name. After minutes that seem like an eternity, I sighed in defeat. That's okay. The prospect of being saved makes me grin again. Eagerly, I rock side to side waiting for Him. But I still need a name. Oh! I know!
Superman..
But what's taking him so long? What if he does leave me to rot in this Hell? The thought made the grin on my face slowly disappear, replaced by a steely expression that seems familiar and slightly comforting. If he doesn't come, I guess I'll have to make him still. Jut like the baby.
Sweet dreams, Julian.
And to you, Superman.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
R&R
(A/N): Damn that's sad. Just to show you that I'm not a cold-heartless bitch, If you can find the Pirates of the Caribbean reference; I'll give you a bottle of Nestle Java syrup!
Love,
Jaded316
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or any of it's characters. Nor do I do this to gain any financial benefit. My only reward is any feedback I get, which would be greatly appreciated.
Summary: Clark's thoughts and then Lex's post Shattered. See how sinister a farm boy's thoughts can be. And what are Lex's thoughts while in Belle Reve?
(A/N): First ever Smallville fic. Although I'm a Lex fan at heart, my desire to write something angsty greatly exceeds my desire to write a "Lex gets out" fic. Angst is like a warm familiar blanket. I believe that through the writer's, Clark Kent's experiences are possibly creating a darker Superman than the one we previously grew up watching.But for angst writer's like myself that isn't necessarily a bad thing. On the bright side, if you can find the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' reference, you'll get a special treat!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Clark's POV:
The guilt is overwhelming. Sleeping, without waking up from the nightmares I later recall as memories. Keeping down food as I look up at the loving smiles my parents give me. These things I used to do daily, now, they drain me of my strength, worst than the meteor rocks ever could. Instead of draining my body, this pain plagues my heart. It's so strong it even pales in comparison to Lana's realization that a life with me was too dangerous. How could I have disappeared, leaving Lex to the fate his father has doomed him to? Lex saw what I was capable. He knew I wasn't human and in mere seconds I knew he was a threat. A threat that must be taken care of. I knowingly left him to save myself. To keep my secret safe. My dad would be so proud of me. The bitterness I feel at that thought makes my stomach churn and I have to force myself to keep the little dinner I was able to digest.
I left Lex to be wrongfully drugged, prodded and experimented on. Someone I had defended and repeated called a friend. My betrayal is like a hard slap in the face. Could the ruthlessness I displayed been so easy because of my heritage? Am I truly cold and heartless enough to one day rule the world? To show the people I care about passive indifference and betray them if it's to my own advantage? I carry with me the hopes and dreams of a world I know nothing about. The last son of Krypton. In my dreams, I see myself time and time again, saving Lex's life, then leaving him on the ground. Who am I to decide his fate? To allow him to wither away in Belle Reve. But each time I have longer and longer to decide whether or not to leave him. Each dream, the gap between when Lex discovered my secret and when Lex's psychiatrist came to lock him away grows longer and longer, causing the familiar constricting in my chest to take longing to subside. The very idea of me considering leaving my friend among the wolves is sickening. The only thing that tops it is my decision. When I abandon my friend and I feel a sharp blow to my chest. Like a knife was plunged straight into my back, much like the one I stuck in Lex's back.
Ever since I realized how much I can help people with my powers, save lives with the abilities I have, I've always tried to do what's right. Stand for truth, justice and the American way, whatever the Hell that's supposed to mean. But day after day, month after month it has become painfully clear that the world isn't always black and white. It seems fitting that I adapt that Luthorian belief. Soon I'll be studying Machiavellian tactics. The end justifies the means, indeed. At first I tried to justify my actions to myself, reasoning that Lex would expose my secret, but each time my disappointment and self-disgust just grew, appalled at how little faith I had in Lex. Perhaps the vision Sarah gave me when Lex found out by himself that I wasn't human was still in the back of my mind, urging me to save my own ass. No. This couldn't be the same person who risked his life to save people on a weekly basis. Where's the hero? The champion?
As many powers as I may have, turning back time isn't one of them. Now, all I'm left with is regrets. Much like Judas Iscariot. Only after the act did he realize just how tarnished thirty pieces of silver can get. But is my protection any less important to me, after abandoning Lex? No. Not at all. And that's why I can't find any rest. Not just because Lex is suffering, but because I'm not sorry I left him. I know in my heart and soul that if I had it to do all over again, I'd leave him to madness. In the care of his bastard father and treacherous psychiatrist. But who am I to throw stones? Lionel and I, we're two peas in a pod, doing whatever it takes for our secrets to be hidden from the world. Yet, if my betrayal were linked to my heritage, wouldn't that make me more like Lex? Both of us unable to deny the blood that flows through our veins, forcing us to commit acts we know are morally wrong. If that's the case, and our destines are intertwined, will someone betray me, continuing the cycle. Poetic justice, I'd suppose. But could I possibly end the cycle by saving Lex? If I'll ever find peace, I need to save Lex. Unfortunately, after leaving him, I'm not even sure why I'm saving him. Can I honestly say I'm saving him because it's the right thing to do?
Then again, should I leave Lex in there until I'm certain he doesn't remember my secret?
You know. Just in case.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lex's POV:
It's so bright in here. My eyes hurt. Why can't I hear him anymore? The baby isn't crying. All that's left is silence. The stillness is deafening. My head hurts and my arms are cramping. Where's Clark to save me? He always does. My memories have been getting patchy ever since my bitch of a psychiatrist injected me with something. I still remember though. The car barreling toward me. Clark pushing me out the way. And then Clark's body cutting through the car like a hot knife in butter. Why did Clark leave me? Doesn't he know I love him like my own brother? Why is the baby so still? I can't hear it crying. My arm is throbbing and a thick fog clouds over in my head.
Reliving the memory I don't remember as my own, the feeling of me hitting the ground is merely a shadow. Everything is hazy. Squinting my mind's eye to make out the fuzzy picture, I see a figure standing in front of what seems to be a car. On impact with the figure, the car splits in two, like Moses parting the Red Sea. Who is this savior? Surely, he will come to save me. I feel myself grin, my cut lip cracking open, bleeding once again. I wish I could remember when it bled the first time. No matter. I sit down and cross my legs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my hero. Frowning, I try to remember my hero's face and name. After minutes that seem like an eternity, I sighed in defeat. That's okay. The prospect of being saved makes me grin again. Eagerly, I rock side to side waiting for Him. But I still need a name. Oh! I know!
Superman..
But what's taking him so long? What if he does leave me to rot in this Hell? The thought made the grin on my face slowly disappear, replaced by a steely expression that seems familiar and slightly comforting. If he doesn't come, I guess I'll have to make him still. Jut like the baby.
Sweet dreams, Julian.
And to you, Superman.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
R&R
(A/N): Damn that's sad. Just to show you that I'm not a cold-heartless bitch, If you can find the Pirates of the Caribbean reference; I'll give you a bottle of Nestle Java syrup!
Love,
Jaded316