The rain had sputtered and drizzled on for the next quarter hour before abandoning its attack altogether. The storm had left the sky stained a meancing dark gray that spoke testimony to fact that it was far from surrendering. The sun seemed bent on rejoicing the momentary pause, however, and found a weak spot in the clouds. It peeked through in front of Clark, sillhouting him against the near-ebony sky as he watched the ambulence scurry down the highway at 40 miles an hour, the fastest it could manage on the slippery roads.
Lex spotted the scene about a half-mile away and impatiently sped towards it before he screeched to a stop a few yards from a curious crowd crowded behind the yellow caution tape. There was a television camera and reporter from the local news channel and a Ledger reporter interviewing a police officer off to one-side. But what had caught his eye was off to the far right, lodged off the highway and half submerged in the rising water of an iragation ditch. It was a truck. Not just any truck, but the Kent's truck. At least, Lex thought it sort of looked like a truck he'd seen Clark driving when he'd delivered their vegtables last week, but only if you cocked your head to the left and squinted a little. Still, it was enough for Lex to bother trudging out of his porche through the mud to interrogate a policeman on a day so soggy he typically wouldn't have even left the castle.
That's when he spotted Clark. He was standing farther down the road next to a water-logged blue tarp. No one seemed to have noticed him standing there yet, so for the moment, he was alone. Normally, it wouldn't have been anything to make Lex worry; he'd gotten used to Clark being at the scene of an accident over the years. But upon seeing him today, all Lex wanted to do was to go up and give him a hug. And hugging was not something Luthor's do.
Clark stood facing the road, staring off in the distance at the fleeting back of an ambulence. He stood stock still and was silent, his face blank and his posture so straight and tall it looked as though he had a metal rod in place of his spine. Despite his stance, Clark was anything but emotionless. Soaked to the bone, his jeans and shirt clung to his soaked body as though hanging on for dear life. His jeans were streaked with earth and mud from the ground around him and bunched up around his ankles and knees. The white shirt he'd donned that morning was nearly transperant and ripped randomly, leaving the bottom and sleeves hanging in scraps over his abs and biceps. Blood had tainted it and was caked so thickly over parts of his arms and torso not even the pounding rain had been able to cleanse him of it. Lex wondered with a shiver how much of it was Clark's and how much of it belonged to whoever had ridden away in the ambulence he was watching with such intensity.
Clark's full dark hair was plastered to his and hung limply around his ears, and he allowed water to dribbling from it to the sides of his face. His beautiful, unearthly eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and there were paths of water carved down his cheek that had nothing to do with the rain. The whole of his face was raw from crying, and more blood was smeared over his cheekbone like bizzare war-paint. His being exuded exhaustion and complete, total sadness. It almost frightened Lex. He had known Clark for nearly three years now, and during that time he had seen Clark change emotions almost as much as his clothes. Happiness. Anger. Frustration. Nervousness. Hope. Wonder. Dispair. But never, in all of those years and the many hundreds of times he'd seen Clark had ever seen him so sad. Or seen him cry. Clark was always, to a certain degree, in control of himself, and tears were something that Lex had never imagined seeing him shed. It seemed impossible for him to break down like that, so blantently loose the carefully measured restraint he radiated. Now here he was, standing shin deep in muck on the side of a road, tears blazing down his cheeks. He looked so lost, so terribly miserable, and so completely drained that it seemed to be a trial just to stand there. He looked...beaten. And it scared the hell out of Lex to see the one man in the world he deemed unbreakable utterly shattered. To Lex, as childish as it sounded in his mind, Clark was invisible. His own, personal hero that couldn't be harmed by anything physical or emotional. Clark was the man that he hoped he could one day come close to measuring up to. Clark was the opitamy of all that he desired. Now here he was, broken, absolutely unprotected. And Lex would have given anything in the world to make it better.
He drew in a breath, realizing that he had been standing there for a full thirty seconds. A junior officer no more than 22 ambled over to him and offered a weak smile. Mopping the water off his forehead with the back of his wrist, he pushed his dark brown hair back as well before addressing him. "What can I do for you, Mr. Luthor?"
"What...what happened here?" Lex stammered, his gaze still caught on the form of his best friend. His only friend. 'He looks almost like an angel,' Lex thought, 'standing against the sun like that.'
The officer just stared at him, and it took a moment for Lex to realize that the man hadn't heard his question. He'd barely been able to choke it out as a whisper, and the scene was filled with the clatter of people talking and the rumble of police scanners all around. "What happened?" Lex repeated himself more clearly, nodding toward the tatters of the truck in the ditch.
"We aren't all that sure yet. When we got here, the kid had pulled a man and a woman from the truck and a couple of medical grad students were working of them. Didn't catch their names. I guess that when they pulled up the kid was cleaning out their wounds and had gotten them out already. He hasn't said a word to anyone, except when the paramedics were putting the man on a stetcher. Right before you pulled up, actually."
"What'd he say?"
"To mind the left leg, said it was broken in a couple places pretty badly and it wouldn't do to have the bone fragments working their way into the blood stream. Something like that. He's in shock, I think. Just stands there." The officer shook his head, as though it were a shame, but Lex could tell that he was still green enough that an accident scene was exciting.
"Who were the man and the woman you took to the hospital?" Lex jerked his head over to the officer when he didn't respond right a way. "What the hell were their names?" The anger bit into his words and acid dripped from his voice. Panic was steadily rising in chest. 'It can't be,' he thought. 'It just CAN'T be...' He hummed the mantra over and over again in his mind, willing the man to say anything but what he knew to be true. 'It can't be...'
"Ummm...Kent something, I think. Yeah, Jonathan Kent. I've seen him in town. His wife was in there to, I'm pretty sure."
"No.." Lex breathed. Suddenly everthing made sense. "**** no!" Lex was in motion before the words had come out of his mouth completely, and he ran over to Clark's side. Clark's face was still blank and his eyes were unfocused and strangely vacant. It almost looked as though Clark had packed up house and left his body behind altogether. Lex shivered again.
Drawing up in front of him, Lex stood tall enough to look up into Clark's eyes. "Clark..." His voice was soft and trembling as he called it, staring into his friends eyes and searching for any sign of Clark in there. No recognizition. '****..'
"Clark!" he called, voice tinged with urgency and desperatly waved his hand at his friend. Still Clark stared on into the horizen over Lex. Still vacant. Lex's mind screamed in denial that this could possibly be happening. Clark's parents, Jonathan and Martha, they held Clark together. Without them, he couldn't help but wonder if Clark would just fall apart.
"Clark!" Now his voice was had a piercing edge to it, and he tenetively shook his friends arm as he called it. The touch seemed to jolt through Clark like a blue, leaping finger of electicity and he almost jumped out of his skin as he leaped away from Lex. His eyes refocused and his whole body tensed as he pulled away from Lex's outstretched hand so fast Lex couldn't even register the movement. It startled him, but not nearly as much as the fear in friends eye at the sudden contact. "Clark, you should get to a hospital." The words seemed to make him even more tense as he backed away from Lex, his eyes wide with pure fear.
"Yeah, I have to get to them. I need to get there..." Clark mumbled, distracted.
Lex's gaze softened. "Clark, you'll see them later. Right now I'm going to get you to Smallville Medical Center so they can check you out. I think your bleeding." He eyed a large patch of blood on Clarks shirt near his heart and the smear along his cheek bone. He wasn't sure which one made him more nervous, but he was cetain that both had to be checked out. There had to be some sort of serious injury under all that blood.
"No way. Nu-uh. I'm fine." Clark's eyes grew bigger, if that was even possible. It seemed like they took up half his face. "I'm fine," he repeated again in the same soft, far-away voice with the same firm undertone. "Fine."
"No, Clark, your not. Look at all this blood!" Lex stuck out his finger, pointed at Clarks tattered shirt. Clark jumped away from his finger as though it were a hot poker Lex planned on sticking into him. Lex had no intention of touching him again. It obviously put him on edge, and Clark was wired enough as it was. "You have to get to a doctor, Clark. There is no way you got out of that truck without getting hurt."
Clark just shot a side-ways glance at the truck as he picked at the blood on his shirt. "This isn't mine," he replied, indicating the blood. A chill ran through him at sight of the various car parts strewn about and the roof of the car peeled back like a can of sardines. Most of the damge he'd done was hiden beneth the swiring water and would be chalked up to that. But the roof...that he couldn't explain. And at the moment, he could care less about his secret and the lies he'd have to tell. It was what his father would say to the destruction that scared him. He just hoped his father would be alive to lecture him on it. For now, there was no way on this side of Hell Clark was getting near any doctors. Which posed something of a problem, as they'd taken his parents to the hospital and every fiber in his being called for him to be near them. "I'm fine, Lex. I have to get to my parents." Clark suddening looked Lex in the eye and his voice morphed from the soft, shocked tone to an almost threatening one. "No doctors."
Lex realized that only way he could Clark the medical attention he needed was to get him to the hospital. There he could get some back up, someone to help him convince Clark to get treatment, or maybe just jump the skittish boy with a sedative. Probably the last one. The whole Kent family was vehmently against Clark seeing doctors of any type. He'd respected that, but now he just couldn't do it. Clark needed help. Fast. "Alright. Jump in my car. I'll drive you." He studyed Clark, watching him struggle to decide what to do. He'd never read Clark quite so easily before. The day really had taken a toll on him.
"No. It'd be faster on foot," was the reply. Lex couldn't help but laugh at that one.
"Not unless you could be beat my porche, which clocks in at 250, in a foot-race," Lex laughed, glancing at his car with a smile.
But when he turned back to his friend, Clark was already gone.
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Lex spotted the scene about a half-mile away and impatiently sped towards it before he screeched to a stop a few yards from a curious crowd crowded behind the yellow caution tape. There was a television camera and reporter from the local news channel and a Ledger reporter interviewing a police officer off to one-side. But what had caught his eye was off to the far right, lodged off the highway and half submerged in the rising water of an iragation ditch. It was a truck. Not just any truck, but the Kent's truck. At least, Lex thought it sort of looked like a truck he'd seen Clark driving when he'd delivered their vegtables last week, but only if you cocked your head to the left and squinted a little. Still, it was enough for Lex to bother trudging out of his porche through the mud to interrogate a policeman on a day so soggy he typically wouldn't have even left the castle.
That's when he spotted Clark. He was standing farther down the road next to a water-logged blue tarp. No one seemed to have noticed him standing there yet, so for the moment, he was alone. Normally, it wouldn't have been anything to make Lex worry; he'd gotten used to Clark being at the scene of an accident over the years. But upon seeing him today, all Lex wanted to do was to go up and give him a hug. And hugging was not something Luthor's do.
Clark stood facing the road, staring off in the distance at the fleeting back of an ambulence. He stood stock still and was silent, his face blank and his posture so straight and tall it looked as though he had a metal rod in place of his spine. Despite his stance, Clark was anything but emotionless. Soaked to the bone, his jeans and shirt clung to his soaked body as though hanging on for dear life. His jeans were streaked with earth and mud from the ground around him and bunched up around his ankles and knees. The white shirt he'd donned that morning was nearly transperant and ripped randomly, leaving the bottom and sleeves hanging in scraps over his abs and biceps. Blood had tainted it and was caked so thickly over parts of his arms and torso not even the pounding rain had been able to cleanse him of it. Lex wondered with a shiver how much of it was Clark's and how much of it belonged to whoever had ridden away in the ambulence he was watching with such intensity.
Clark's full dark hair was plastered to his and hung limply around his ears, and he allowed water to dribbling from it to the sides of his face. His beautiful, unearthly eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and there were paths of water carved down his cheek that had nothing to do with the rain. The whole of his face was raw from crying, and more blood was smeared over his cheekbone like bizzare war-paint. His being exuded exhaustion and complete, total sadness. It almost frightened Lex. He had known Clark for nearly three years now, and during that time he had seen Clark change emotions almost as much as his clothes. Happiness. Anger. Frustration. Nervousness. Hope. Wonder. Dispair. But never, in all of those years and the many hundreds of times he'd seen Clark had ever seen him so sad. Or seen him cry. Clark was always, to a certain degree, in control of himself, and tears were something that Lex had never imagined seeing him shed. It seemed impossible for him to break down like that, so blantently loose the carefully measured restraint he radiated. Now here he was, standing shin deep in muck on the side of a road, tears blazing down his cheeks. He looked so lost, so terribly miserable, and so completely drained that it seemed to be a trial just to stand there. He looked...beaten. And it scared the hell out of Lex to see the one man in the world he deemed unbreakable utterly shattered. To Lex, as childish as it sounded in his mind, Clark was invisible. His own, personal hero that couldn't be harmed by anything physical or emotional. Clark was the man that he hoped he could one day come close to measuring up to. Clark was the opitamy of all that he desired. Now here he was, broken, absolutely unprotected. And Lex would have given anything in the world to make it better.
He drew in a breath, realizing that he had been standing there for a full thirty seconds. A junior officer no more than 22 ambled over to him and offered a weak smile. Mopping the water off his forehead with the back of his wrist, he pushed his dark brown hair back as well before addressing him. "What can I do for you, Mr. Luthor?"
"What...what happened here?" Lex stammered, his gaze still caught on the form of his best friend. His only friend. 'He looks almost like an angel,' Lex thought, 'standing against the sun like that.'
The officer just stared at him, and it took a moment for Lex to realize that the man hadn't heard his question. He'd barely been able to choke it out as a whisper, and the scene was filled with the clatter of people talking and the rumble of police scanners all around. "What happened?" Lex repeated himself more clearly, nodding toward the tatters of the truck in the ditch.
"We aren't all that sure yet. When we got here, the kid had pulled a man and a woman from the truck and a couple of medical grad students were working of them. Didn't catch their names. I guess that when they pulled up the kid was cleaning out their wounds and had gotten them out already. He hasn't said a word to anyone, except when the paramedics were putting the man on a stetcher. Right before you pulled up, actually."
"What'd he say?"
"To mind the left leg, said it was broken in a couple places pretty badly and it wouldn't do to have the bone fragments working their way into the blood stream. Something like that. He's in shock, I think. Just stands there." The officer shook his head, as though it were a shame, but Lex could tell that he was still green enough that an accident scene was exciting.
"Who were the man and the woman you took to the hospital?" Lex jerked his head over to the officer when he didn't respond right a way. "What the hell were their names?" The anger bit into his words and acid dripped from his voice. Panic was steadily rising in chest. 'It can't be,' he thought. 'It just CAN'T be...' He hummed the mantra over and over again in his mind, willing the man to say anything but what he knew to be true. 'It can't be...'
"Ummm...Kent something, I think. Yeah, Jonathan Kent. I've seen him in town. His wife was in there to, I'm pretty sure."
"No.." Lex breathed. Suddenly everthing made sense. "**** no!" Lex was in motion before the words had come out of his mouth completely, and he ran over to Clark's side. Clark's face was still blank and his eyes were unfocused and strangely vacant. It almost looked as though Clark had packed up house and left his body behind altogether. Lex shivered again.
Drawing up in front of him, Lex stood tall enough to look up into Clark's eyes. "Clark..." His voice was soft and trembling as he called it, staring into his friends eyes and searching for any sign of Clark in there. No recognizition. '****..'
"Clark!" he called, voice tinged with urgency and desperatly waved his hand at his friend. Still Clark stared on into the horizen over Lex. Still vacant. Lex's mind screamed in denial that this could possibly be happening. Clark's parents, Jonathan and Martha, they held Clark together. Without them, he couldn't help but wonder if Clark would just fall apart.
"Clark!" Now his voice was had a piercing edge to it, and he tenetively shook his friends arm as he called it. The touch seemed to jolt through Clark like a blue, leaping finger of electicity and he almost jumped out of his skin as he leaped away from Lex. His eyes refocused and his whole body tensed as he pulled away from Lex's outstretched hand so fast Lex couldn't even register the movement. It startled him, but not nearly as much as the fear in friends eye at the sudden contact. "Clark, you should get to a hospital." The words seemed to make him even more tense as he backed away from Lex, his eyes wide with pure fear.
"Yeah, I have to get to them. I need to get there..." Clark mumbled, distracted.
Lex's gaze softened. "Clark, you'll see them later. Right now I'm going to get you to Smallville Medical Center so they can check you out. I think your bleeding." He eyed a large patch of blood on Clarks shirt near his heart and the smear along his cheek bone. He wasn't sure which one made him more nervous, but he was cetain that both had to be checked out. There had to be some sort of serious injury under all that blood.
"No way. Nu-uh. I'm fine." Clark's eyes grew bigger, if that was even possible. It seemed like they took up half his face. "I'm fine," he repeated again in the same soft, far-away voice with the same firm undertone. "Fine."
"No, Clark, your not. Look at all this blood!" Lex stuck out his finger, pointed at Clarks tattered shirt. Clark jumped away from his finger as though it were a hot poker Lex planned on sticking into him. Lex had no intention of touching him again. It obviously put him on edge, and Clark was wired enough as it was. "You have to get to a doctor, Clark. There is no way you got out of that truck without getting hurt."
Clark just shot a side-ways glance at the truck as he picked at the blood on his shirt. "This isn't mine," he replied, indicating the blood. A chill ran through him at sight of the various car parts strewn about and the roof of the car peeled back like a can of sardines. Most of the damge he'd done was hiden beneth the swiring water and would be chalked up to that. But the roof...that he couldn't explain. And at the moment, he could care less about his secret and the lies he'd have to tell. It was what his father would say to the destruction that scared him. He just hoped his father would be alive to lecture him on it. For now, there was no way on this side of Hell Clark was getting near any doctors. Which posed something of a problem, as they'd taken his parents to the hospital and every fiber in his being called for him to be near them. "I'm fine, Lex. I have to get to my parents." Clark suddening looked Lex in the eye and his voice morphed from the soft, shocked tone to an almost threatening one. "No doctors."
Lex realized that only way he could Clark the medical attention he needed was to get him to the hospital. There he could get some back up, someone to help him convince Clark to get treatment, or maybe just jump the skittish boy with a sedative. Probably the last one. The whole Kent family was vehmently against Clark seeing doctors of any type. He'd respected that, but now he just couldn't do it. Clark needed help. Fast. "Alright. Jump in my car. I'll drive you." He studyed Clark, watching him struggle to decide what to do. He'd never read Clark quite so easily before. The day really had taken a toll on him.
"No. It'd be faster on foot," was the reply. Lex couldn't help but laugh at that one.
"Not unless you could be beat my porche, which clocks in at 250, in a foot-race," Lex laughed, glancing at his car with a smile.
But when he turned back to his friend, Clark was already gone.
I love reviews. They make me happy. So delight me, :) please!
Thoughts? Feelings? Rant on.