Morgan/Kal WIP
Jul. 25th, 2004 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Lex Luthor was not an easy man to track down. You wouldn't think that a hot bald guy with piercing blue eyes and skin like cream (and, yes, Clark would be keeping the picture he'd taken from Morgan's for ID purposes under his pillow from now on) would be hard to find in a world full of fair to ugly looking people, and yet, he was.
After four hours of looking, Clark still had no clue as to Lex’s location. At least he'd finally found the neighborhood Lex apparently hung out in. When Clark first had started, every person he showed the picture to said, "Yeah, I know him. That's Luthor's kid. That Lex guy. My wife (or girlfriend or daughter) says ..." and they'd go off on a long tangent about an exploit of Lex's, or his sex appeal, or how dangerous the kid was. It was interesting in the sense that Clark had never known anyone that famous, but not very helpful.
But, finally, he'd found a coffee shop where the answer had been, "I haven't seen Lex in a few days. He looked bad, though, like something had happened. Guess it's this whole Lane Enterprises thing, huh?"
When he'd gotten similar responses in three places (and given all three his cell number should they see Lex again), Clark took to hanging out in the area, casually moving from bar to store to coffee house in search for his prey.
It should not be this exciting. The idea of finding Lex Luthor, that was. After all, Clark wasn't going to get to *do* anything with him. He was with Morgan now, and Lex Luthor probably wasn't gay.
Clark pulled out the picture and looked at him. Lex dressed in a black shirt, slacks, and black leather jacket that made his skin glow. His eyes stood out as he gazed into the distance, and his skin looked like cream. Clark wanted to lick it. His skin, not the picture.
He forced himself to put it away and continue on to the next store. It wasn't like anything was going to happen. Even if Morgan didn't care, even if Lex was gay, the fact was, Lex had just lost the family business. It wasn't something that put you into the mood for sex.
"Hey," Clark said, walking into the liquor store. "Have you seen this guy today?"
The guy behind the counter looked at the picture, then narrowed his eyes. "What do you care?'
"I just want to find him, make sure he's all right. My boss sent me."
"And your boss is?"
Clark showed his teeth and replied, "None of your business. Look, he lost his father's company today; I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." He pulled a twenty from his wallet and slid it across the counter. “Have you seen him today?”
Still looking wary, the guy took the money and tucked it into his shirt. Furtively, he glanced over his shoulder, then said, "He was in here about an hour ago. Bought a pack of cigarettes and some liquor. He already seemed drunk. I told him, 'Hey, Lex, it's early, man.' But he's got the money, right? So I sold him a bottle of tequila. He thanked me, said I was a good friend, and left. Don't know where he went."
"That's fine. You're not his keeper, right?" This time, Clark flashed a charming smile as he wrote his number on a scrap of paper. "If you see him again, give me a call. Okay? I just want to take him some place to dry out and relax." While I fuck him senseless, he added silently.
"Yeah, okay. Oh, and maybe you'll be interested in this." The guy pulled a piece of paper from behind the counter. Clark's picture was on it with the words *Have You Seen This Boy*.
A cold feeling entered the pit of Clark's stomach. He took the flyer. "Where did you get this?"
"A gorgeous gal came here a few weeks ago with these. Long brown hair, brown eyes?"
"Yeah, I know her," Clark said flatly. Damn Lana. Damn Chloe too, for that matter. "You gonna call her?"
The guy smiled. "I don't know. Any reason I shouldn't?"
Fuck, damn, shit. Maybe Morgan would reimburse him, but Clark didn't want to ask. He'd been acting weird this morning, saying that Clark was going to leave him, and he didn't want to fuel the fire.
So, he pulled out his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Smiling crookedly, and with no humor, he slid it across the counter. "Yeah. I've got about a hundred of 'em."
The guy took the bill and tucked it into his shirt pocket. "Then I guess I won't call." He handed the paper to Clark.
"Thanks." Clark turned and left the store. "Fucking Lana," he groaned. He shot a quick burst of fire at the paper and dropped it onto the sidewalk. Then he continued onto the next store.
An hour later, he'd hit everything except some clubs that didn’t open for another three hours. Since there was nothing he could do, he doubled back to a diner for dinner. Morgan still wasn't back from seeing Lionel, and Clark didn't exactly relish going back with his mission unfulfilled. Clark was confident that Lex would show up on the club scene tonight. He was, apparently, already drunk, and everything that Clark had heard about him said that Lex liked to party his woes away. He was probably waiting to get out and buy something designer at the clubs to forget what he’d done. All Clark had to do was be patient.
He was halfway through his dinner when she came into the diner. Dressed in jeans and a dark blue shirt, her hair back in a headband, the way Clark liked it best, looking every inch like home.
It took him a minute to accept what he was seeing. There was no way on earth she could be there. No way in the world that she would know where he was and how to find him. No way ... and yet, she was here. In this diner, with a steady and determined expression on her face as she crossed the floor and sat across from him in the booth.
"Hello, Clark," Mom said softly, hands folded in front of her on the table.
The food that Clark had stopped chewing curdled on his tongue. He couldn't swallow, so he spit it out into a napkin and hid it under his plate. "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly, not meeting her eyes.
"I've been looking for you all day. Anywhere I could think. The museum, the mall, the park, apartments by the club where Chloe saw you. I went to the apartment building she told me you were staying, but they told me you haven't been there for weeks. I was going to go to as many clubs as I could tonight, hoping you might be there, and I happened to walk by and see you through the window." She reached across the table and tried to touch his arm gently, but Clark jerked it away.
"Don't. Go home. I don’t want you here."
"Not until I've talked to you. Clark, *please*."
"My name isn't Clark. It's Kal." The words tasted like ashes. Kal-El was the reason he'd hurt her, the reason he'd left. And yet he'd taken the name, partly because he wanted to spite Jor-El, and partly because the name felt right, even though he desperately wished it wasn’t so.
"Why did you leave?" Mom asked. Her voice sounded firm, but not like normal. It was like she was trying very hard not to be upset.
She sounded the way she had the time Clark had been seven and accidentally killed the cat. He'd been devastated and refused to come out of his bedroom closet. Mom had climbed in with him, shut the door, and talked to about how it wasn't his fault, and that he hadn't meant to do it, and he just needed to remember how strong he was and be very careful about his movements and what he did. There had been tears standing in her eyes the entire time, but she never let them fall and *never* made Clark feel as if she was frightened of him.
"Do you even have to ask?"
"Yes. I don’t know."
Clark looked at her then, and his throat closed up more. Eyes stinging, he said, "Then you should ask your husband. Jonathan could tell you."
"I'd rather you told me."
"Jesus Christ!" Clark wished he smoked. He needed something to do other than tear a napkin to pieces. "I killed your baby, Mo... Martha. I killed your baby, I hurt you, and I left."
"Clark," she breathed. This time, when she reached for him, he let her. Her smooth, warm hand caressed his arm in a long familiar gesture. "Baby, you didn't kill.... I've never blamed you."
"Why not? It was my fault." he licked his lips. "I put Kryptonite in the ship. Tons of it, as many pieces as Pete could find. I filled up the inside, and the ship tried to protect itself but couldn’t. It exploded, and that's why the tuck flipped over. It was my fault."
"*No*," Mom said fiercely, tears in her voice. "No, Clark, it was not your fault. You had no way of knowing that your father and I were coming home from the market early. You didn't know what would happen. You didn't know it would explode."
"My actions have consequences." Clark's voice was dull, and he didn't care about the tears anymore. He'd stupidly forgotten to put his ring on before he left, and now ... now he could feel. It hurt, everything hurt. He wanted to die. "My actions." He sniffed. "I chose to put the rocks in the ship, and it hurt you. It killed your baby, and ..."
"No, Clark, please." Mom was crying now, to, and she was squeezing Clark's arm tightly. "*You* are my baby. My baby, my angel, my falling star. You are my gift. Yes, I'm sad that I lost the baby, but I can't... How can you make me lose both my babies?" She sniffed and pulled away to wipe her eyes.
"Mom," he whispered raggedly in anguish. "Your life is better off without me."
"My life didn't begin until there was you." She climbed out of her seat ad slid into the booth next to him. Her arms came around him, and she buried her face in Clark's neck. "Clark, you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You came to us, you chose us, you found us. The only thing I ever wanted was a child. The only thing I wanted to complete my life was you. The baby... the baby was only going to add to our lives, not replace you. I wish I could have given you a brother or sister. But I can't lose you because there was an accident. I need you."
"Dad doesn't," Clark said, wishing he had the strength to push her away. Instead, he closed his eyes, allowing his senses to be filled with his mother. The feel of her hair, the smell of her perfume and apples and cinnamon. She had the softest skin of anyone he'd ever known, and she was so, so strong. "Dad blames me. He told me..." He sniffed as a tear made its way down his face. "It's better that I left. I was only in your way."
"Clark, that's not true." She pulled away and looked at him through tear-wet eyes.
"At the hospital, he didn’t want me there. He was just worried about his wife and his baby. ‘Our' baby, he said, but he didn't mean to include me in the our. Not in the family. He told me it was all my fault, that my choice was what caused you to.... And he was right. It was my fault."
"Clark," Mom said, voice sharp. "*I* forgive you. *I* don't blame you."
Clark shook his head and said, "Yeah. But Dad does. And I can’t go back to that. It’s better if I don’t." He kissed her forehead, then gently pushed her away. "I have to go. I'm working."
Mom grabbed his hands and clung to him. "Clark, please. We need to talk. I'm sure you misunderstood..."
"I didn't misunderstand. He said what he said. I *can't* go back. I'm sorry."
"Let me see you again. Tomorrow. Please, just one more time. Let me talk to your father and see .... Please?"
Clark sighed, stomach churning. He didn't want to, and he shouldn't. But.... Maybe this way he could say good-bye.
"Fine," he finally said. "Tomorrow at five. Here."
Mom nodded and stood. "I'll see you then."
"All right." Clark looked at her for another moment, then turned and left the diner. He still had to find Lex Luthor. Then, after he went home and climbed into bed, maybe he could figure out a way to say goodbye to his mother.
TBC
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Lex Luthor was not an easy man to track down. You wouldn't think that a hot bald guy with piercing blue eyes and skin like cream (and, yes, Clark would be keeping the picture he'd taken from Morgan's for ID purposes under his pillow from now on) would be hard to find in a world full of fair to ugly looking people, and yet, he was.
After four hours of looking, Clark still had no clue as to Lex’s location. At least he'd finally found the neighborhood Lex apparently hung out in. When Clark first had started, every person he showed the picture to said, "Yeah, I know him. That's Luthor's kid. That Lex guy. My wife (or girlfriend or daughter) says ..." and they'd go off on a long tangent about an exploit of Lex's, or his sex appeal, or how dangerous the kid was. It was interesting in the sense that Clark had never known anyone that famous, but not very helpful.
But, finally, he'd found a coffee shop where the answer had been, "I haven't seen Lex in a few days. He looked bad, though, like something had happened. Guess it's this whole Lane Enterprises thing, huh?"
When he'd gotten similar responses in three places (and given all three his cell number should they see Lex again), Clark took to hanging out in the area, casually moving from bar to store to coffee house in search for his prey.
It should not be this exciting. The idea of finding Lex Luthor, that was. After all, Clark wasn't going to get to *do* anything with him. He was with Morgan now, and Lex Luthor probably wasn't gay.
Clark pulled out the picture and looked at him. Lex dressed in a black shirt, slacks, and black leather jacket that made his skin glow. His eyes stood out as he gazed into the distance, and his skin looked like cream. Clark wanted to lick it. His skin, not the picture.
He forced himself to put it away and continue on to the next store. It wasn't like anything was going to happen. Even if Morgan didn't care, even if Lex was gay, the fact was, Lex had just lost the family business. It wasn't something that put you into the mood for sex.
"Hey," Clark said, walking into the liquor store. "Have you seen this guy today?"
The guy behind the counter looked at the picture, then narrowed his eyes. "What do you care?'
"I just want to find him, make sure he's all right. My boss sent me."
"And your boss is?"
Clark showed his teeth and replied, "None of your business. Look, he lost his father's company today; I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." He pulled a twenty from his wallet and slid it across the counter. “Have you seen him today?”
Still looking wary, the guy took the money and tucked it into his shirt. Furtively, he glanced over his shoulder, then said, "He was in here about an hour ago. Bought a pack of cigarettes and some liquor. He already seemed drunk. I told him, 'Hey, Lex, it's early, man.' But he's got the money, right? So I sold him a bottle of tequila. He thanked me, said I was a good friend, and left. Don't know where he went."
"That's fine. You're not his keeper, right?" This time, Clark flashed a charming smile as he wrote his number on a scrap of paper. "If you see him again, give me a call. Okay? I just want to take him some place to dry out and relax." While I fuck him senseless, he added silently.
"Yeah, okay. Oh, and maybe you'll be interested in this." The guy pulled a piece of paper from behind the counter. Clark's picture was on it with the words *Have You Seen This Boy*.
A cold feeling entered the pit of Clark's stomach. He took the flyer. "Where did you get this?"
"A gorgeous gal came here a few weeks ago with these. Long brown hair, brown eyes?"
"Yeah, I know her," Clark said flatly. Damn Lana. Damn Chloe too, for that matter. "You gonna call her?"
The guy smiled. "I don't know. Any reason I shouldn't?"
Fuck, damn, shit. Maybe Morgan would reimburse him, but Clark didn't want to ask. He'd been acting weird this morning, saying that Clark was going to leave him, and he didn't want to fuel the fire.
So, he pulled out his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Smiling crookedly, and with no humor, he slid it across the counter. "Yeah. I've got about a hundred of 'em."
The guy took the bill and tucked it into his shirt pocket. "Then I guess I won't call." He handed the paper to Clark.
"Thanks." Clark turned and left the store. "Fucking Lana," he groaned. He shot a quick burst of fire at the paper and dropped it onto the sidewalk. Then he continued onto the next store.
An hour later, he'd hit everything except some clubs that didn’t open for another three hours. Since there was nothing he could do, he doubled back to a diner for dinner. Morgan still wasn't back from seeing Lionel, and Clark didn't exactly relish going back with his mission unfulfilled. Clark was confident that Lex would show up on the club scene tonight. He was, apparently, already drunk, and everything that Clark had heard about him said that Lex liked to party his woes away. He was probably waiting to get out and buy something designer at the clubs to forget what he’d done. All Clark had to do was be patient.
He was halfway through his dinner when she came into the diner. Dressed in jeans and a dark blue shirt, her hair back in a headband, the way Clark liked it best, looking every inch like home.
It took him a minute to accept what he was seeing. There was no way on earth she could be there. No way in the world that she would know where he was and how to find him. No way ... and yet, she was here. In this diner, with a steady and determined expression on her face as she crossed the floor and sat across from him in the booth.
"Hello, Clark," Mom said softly, hands folded in front of her on the table.
The food that Clark had stopped chewing curdled on his tongue. He couldn't swallow, so he spit it out into a napkin and hid it under his plate. "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly, not meeting her eyes.
"I've been looking for you all day. Anywhere I could think. The museum, the mall, the park, apartments by the club where Chloe saw you. I went to the apartment building she told me you were staying, but they told me you haven't been there for weeks. I was going to go to as many clubs as I could tonight, hoping you might be there, and I happened to walk by and see you through the window." She reached across the table and tried to touch his arm gently, but Clark jerked it away.
"Don't. Go home. I don’t want you here."
"Not until I've talked to you. Clark, *please*."
"My name isn't Clark. It's Kal." The words tasted like ashes. Kal-El was the reason he'd hurt her, the reason he'd left. And yet he'd taken the name, partly because he wanted to spite Jor-El, and partly because the name felt right, even though he desperately wished it wasn’t so.
"Why did you leave?" Mom asked. Her voice sounded firm, but not like normal. It was like she was trying very hard not to be upset.
She sounded the way she had the time Clark had been seven and accidentally killed the cat. He'd been devastated and refused to come out of his bedroom closet. Mom had climbed in with him, shut the door, and talked to about how it wasn't his fault, and that he hadn't meant to do it, and he just needed to remember how strong he was and be very careful about his movements and what he did. There had been tears standing in her eyes the entire time, but she never let them fall and *never* made Clark feel as if she was frightened of him.
"Do you even have to ask?"
"Yes. I don’t know."
Clark looked at her then, and his throat closed up more. Eyes stinging, he said, "Then you should ask your husband. Jonathan could tell you."
"I'd rather you told me."
"Jesus Christ!" Clark wished he smoked. He needed something to do other than tear a napkin to pieces. "I killed your baby, Mo... Martha. I killed your baby, I hurt you, and I left."
"Clark," she breathed. This time, when she reached for him, he let her. Her smooth, warm hand caressed his arm in a long familiar gesture. "Baby, you didn't kill.... I've never blamed you."
"Why not? It was my fault." he licked his lips. "I put Kryptonite in the ship. Tons of it, as many pieces as Pete could find. I filled up the inside, and the ship tried to protect itself but couldn’t. It exploded, and that's why the tuck flipped over. It was my fault."
"*No*," Mom said fiercely, tears in her voice. "No, Clark, it was not your fault. You had no way of knowing that your father and I were coming home from the market early. You didn't know what would happen. You didn't know it would explode."
"My actions have consequences." Clark's voice was dull, and he didn't care about the tears anymore. He'd stupidly forgotten to put his ring on before he left, and now ... now he could feel. It hurt, everything hurt. He wanted to die. "My actions." He sniffed. "I chose to put the rocks in the ship, and it hurt you. It killed your baby, and ..."
"No, Clark, please." Mom was crying now, to, and she was squeezing Clark's arm tightly. "*You* are my baby. My baby, my angel, my falling star. You are my gift. Yes, I'm sad that I lost the baby, but I can't... How can you make me lose both my babies?" She sniffed and pulled away to wipe her eyes.
"Mom," he whispered raggedly in anguish. "Your life is better off without me."
"My life didn't begin until there was you." She climbed out of her seat ad slid into the booth next to him. Her arms came around him, and she buried her face in Clark's neck. "Clark, you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You came to us, you chose us, you found us. The only thing I ever wanted was a child. The only thing I wanted to complete my life was you. The baby... the baby was only going to add to our lives, not replace you. I wish I could have given you a brother or sister. But I can't lose you because there was an accident. I need you."
"Dad doesn't," Clark said, wishing he had the strength to push her away. Instead, he closed his eyes, allowing his senses to be filled with his mother. The feel of her hair, the smell of her perfume and apples and cinnamon. She had the softest skin of anyone he'd ever known, and she was so, so strong. "Dad blames me. He told me..." He sniffed as a tear made its way down his face. "It's better that I left. I was only in your way."
"Clark, that's not true." She pulled away and looked at him through tear-wet eyes.
"At the hospital, he didn’t want me there. He was just worried about his wife and his baby. ‘Our' baby, he said, but he didn't mean to include me in the our. Not in the family. He told me it was all my fault, that my choice was what caused you to.... And he was right. It was my fault."
"Clark," Mom said, voice sharp. "*I* forgive you. *I* don't blame you."
Clark shook his head and said, "Yeah. But Dad does. And I can’t go back to that. It’s better if I don’t." He kissed her forehead, then gently pushed her away. "I have to go. I'm working."
Mom grabbed his hands and clung to him. "Clark, please. We need to talk. I'm sure you misunderstood..."
"I didn't misunderstand. He said what he said. I *can't* go back. I'm sorry."
"Let me see you again. Tomorrow. Please, just one more time. Let me talk to your father and see .... Please?"
Clark sighed, stomach churning. He didn't want to, and he shouldn't. But.... Maybe this way he could say good-bye.
"Fine," he finally said. "Tomorrow at five. Here."
Mom nodded and stood. "I'll see you then."
"All right." Clark looked at her for another moment, then turned and left the diner. He still had to find Lex Luthor. Then, after he went home and climbed into bed, maybe he could figure out a way to say goodbye to his mother.
TBC
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-07-25 11:10 pm (UTC)Okay? I just want to take him some place to dry out and relax." While I fuck him senseless, he added silently.
Yeah that gave me butterflies. hehehe
no subject
Date: 2004-07-26 10:12 am (UTC)As much as Kal and Morgan belong together, Clark and Lex are fated. Clark can tell from just a picture. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-26 08:14 am (UTC)And this chapter just makes me feel bad for Martha all over again.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-26 10:15 am (UTC)Thank you. I had a few moments of fear that the time frame wouldn't quite work out, but it is, so I'm glad. It's fun to write from the other side, and to have Clark knowing more about what Lionel was doing than Lex. I think it goes really well with the fact Clark was the *only* one who believed Lex when Lex said Lionel hadn't committed suicide.
I loved the conversation between Clark and Martha, it's very in character that she wouldn't blame Clark for the baby dying because she can see that he's so guilt-ridden already.
I was reading the Smallville Yearbook interview with Annette O'Toole, and she said that she told the writers they better not make Martha upset with Clark. She made the whole point about how he was her baby, and she would never blame him. That's why I love Annette so much, because I'm almost afraid that without her insistence, they might have gone that way. But Martha loves Clark too much for that. I also want this version to be more heartwrenching than Bo Kent showing up and beating sense into Clark. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-26 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-26 04:34 pm (UTC)Oh, sweetie
Date: 2004-07-28 01:49 am (UTC)Heh, I'm fretting for Morgan, but I am so tickled over Clark falling so fast for Lex just from that one yummy picture. There's an all in black leather manip of Lex done by Kiki that comes to mind from that scrumptious description you gave.
The scene with Martha is everything I would have wished for the series to show on the screen. I know she loves her son, her beloved Clark, with all her heart.
My heart breaks more for Clark each day and while i know Jonathan was really hurting, I still wanna pop him one. *eg*
I adore Martha.
I adore you for writing this. Thank you so much for this chapter, sweetie.
{{HUGS}}
Re: Oh, sweetie
Date: 2004-07-28 07:07 pm (UTC)Ah, thank you. I'm always nervous about writing angsty, emotional scenes like this.
There's an all in black leather manip of Lex done by Kiki that comes to mind from that scrumptious description you gave.
I'm not sure if I've seen it; probably, but I can't remember it right now. There's a promo shot of S1 Lex that I had in mind when I wrote this. It's really a beautiful shot. And Clark and lex are so destined, of course Clark would fall in love from a picture. :)
The scene with Martha is everything I would have wished for the series to show on the screen. I know she loves her son, her beloved Clark, with all her heart.
I really, really wish that both Marth and Jonathan had gone for Clark in the show. It woudl have made it a stronger family thing, instead of a just a father/son thing.
Thanks for your comments! :)