Kal/Morgan WIP
Jul. 29th, 2004 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20So, what does anyone think of Sympathy for the Devil? Night and Day actually kind of fits, the moer I think about it. Someone suggested Clark Kent: The Untold Story to go along with LLAR, and someone else suggested Metropolis Story. Any favorites from the batch?
One more part after this.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
*Three Months Later*
"Wow," Chloe said, setting down the paper. She looked shell shocked as she shook her head. "Wow."
"Yeah," Clark said grimly.
"That poor man."
"Which one? Lionel or Lex?"
Chloe blinked at him, frowning. "Lex Luthor, of course. Lionel is the jerk who committed suicide. And he's dead. Why feel sorry for him?" She shook her head and looked back down at the article. "No, I feel sorry for Lex. I mean, my God, he found his father wish his head blown off and then wrote an article about it. I mean, that takes dedication."
"Yeah." Clark rubbed his chin morosely. "Or a level of masochism that's beyond reason."
"Well, I don't think it's that bad."
"*You* read the article. Jesus, it's like he just peeled his skin off layer by layer. It hurt me to read, and I couldn't stand Lionel."
"Yeah, but you have some weird crush on Lex," Chloe said with laughter on the edge of her voice. "Seriously, you did meet him while you were hiding in Metropolis, right?"
Clark sighed and rubbed his eyes. "No, I didn't. I was sent out to find him once, right after LuthorCorp fell, but I couldn’t find him." He scrubbed his face and wondered if he should go to Metropolis and look for Lex. Make sure he was okay. After all Morgan...
Then again, maybe he should go to Morgan. Or call him. After all, Lionel had been Morgan's friend, and for him to be dead... It had to be hard.
It'd been three months since Clark had left. Left the penthouse with every intention of coming back, and then simply... hadn't. He felt bad for not going back, but, on the other hand, he had the vague sense that it was easier on both of them that way. Clark didn't have to explain anything and Morgan... Well, truthfully, Clark didn't know what Morgan would have done.
Life back home wasn't easy. Despite an apology from his father, Clark still wasn't comfortable around him. Dad truly seemed sorry about what he'd said, and he was doing everything he could to make Clark feel comfortable, but there was still a lot hanging between them. Mom said things would get better with time, and all Clark could do was trust her.
A few weeks after he'd returned home, the caves called to him. Clark had gone, heart pounding, not sure of what was going to be expected of him this time, but ready to submit. He'd tried to resist Jor-El before and had end up hurting his mother. Now, he'd lost Morgan, too, and Clark just didn't want to fight anymore.
To his surprise, Jor-El simply said the first test was over, removed the scar, and warned that when he called again, Clark better come ready to face his destiny. That was it. Clark didn't know whether to be relieved nothing more was being asked of him or angry that he'd been put through this in the first place.
He'd decided to be relieved, and then went about the business of his life. His boring, small, almost painful life.
"Clark?" Chloe broke into his thoughts.
He blinked. "Sorry. I was just... I think I'm going to take off."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He smiled wanly. "I'm just a little homesick, I guess."
Chloe wrinkled her nose. "But you are home."
"For now." He shrugged and picked the backpack up. "I'll call you later."
"Okay. Bye."
Clark put his backpack on and left the Torch office. His mind was preoccupied with Lionel and Morgan and the suicide. It wasn't that Clark thought that Lex hadn't been truthful when he reported the suicide--because, Lord knows, anything *that* painful to read had to be ten times more painful to write, and why make it up--it was just that Lionel Luthor didn't strike him as the type of kill himself. Not like that. He was too arrogant and stubborn.
But he had killed himself. Unless, Lex was right. Even though he'd written about the suicide, he suggested several times that Lionel may have been murdered. Maybe...
Clark stopped short.
"Hello, Kal," Morgan said softly. He was leaning against his car, arms crossed comfortably over his chest. His cloths were back, his hair stirred in the light wind, and his blue eyes gleamed in a familiar way beneath his glasses.
"Morgan." Clark walked quickly to him, and then stopped, unsure of what he should do.
Morgan smiled at him, and reached out to touch his hair affectionately. "You look well."
"So do you." He did. He also looked extremely tired, which made sense, since his best friend had just committed suicide. "Um, I read the article. How is he doing?"
"Lex? I don't know. I'm hoping to see him at the funeral on Saturday, but he's not returning my calls."
"How are you?"
Morgan shrugged. "He was my best and oldest friend. I remember him as a dirty-faced urchin in overalls, a cocky teenager, and a brash young adult. I was his best man at his wedding. I witnessed the birth of his children. I stood by him at his wife's funeral, and now on Saturday, I have to attend his." He sighed again and rubbed his chin. "A part of me thought Lionel Luthor to be immortal, and yet he proved to be as human as anyone."
"I’m sorry," Clark said, and he meant it.
Morgan's smile was strange and bitter. "Yes," he said softly. "I’m sorry too." Morgan's eyes seemed far away, like he was gazing through Clark. Then, he shook himself and his gaze sharpened. "Come with me."
Clark licked his lips, swaying into Morgan. "Where?"
"There's a motel in Grandville. I'm not trying to take you away. I just need..." He trailed off and smiled wistfully.
There wasn't anything to do but kiss him then, and Clark really didn't care if anyone saw. Let people think what they wanted about him; all of it was probably true.
Clark called home on the way, explaining that he was going to be out late and didn't know when he'd get home. His mother didn't sound happy, but Clark didn't care. He'd been playing the good boy for three months, now.
Morgan had already checked into the motel, so they were able to go directly to the room. Once they were inside, Clark said what had been on his mind for months now.
"You let me go."
Morgan nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. He folded it in half and draped it across a chair. "I did," he said, walking to the windows. He closed the curtains.
"Why?" Clark unbuttoned his flannel, but didn't take it off. He figured he was here to have sex, but didn't want to look like an idiot of he was wrong.
"Why keep you when you so obviously belonged here?"
Clark snorted and sat on the bed. "I don't feel like I belong here." He chewed on his bottom lip. "I didn't really fit in before, and now it's like there's this huge gulf between me and everyone. They're all so young and hopeful, and I'm just..."
"Not an innocent anymore."
He shook his head and sighed. "No."
Morgan crossed the room and sat next to Clark. "You're not innocent anymore, Kal. You're a retired prostitute, a former petty thief, and have seen a man get his head blown off in front of you." He touched Clark's face gently. "You've run away from home, done things they've only seen in movies, and gotten away with things they could never dream of. You've a beautiful light in you, Kal. A wonderful optimism, despite what you've lived through. Your soul is older than theirs, and you are more mature than the average high school student."
"I hate it here," Clark admitted. He leaned and rested his head on Morgan's shoulder. "I mean, I love my mother, and I'm not all that unhappy on the farm, but I don't want to be here anymore."
"So go."
"I can't. I don’t have anywhere to go. Not anymore." He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Would knowing that you have seventy thousand dollars help?"
Clark lifted his head. "What?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic card. "This is a debit card for your savings account. All the money I owe you is in there. I've written the PIN on this paper, and you can change it whenever you want."
"I can't..."
"It saves me the time and trouble of having to set up a scholarship foundation that you are sure to win it for college. Kal, please. You earned the money."
Something inside Clark broke, and he pulled away. "I don't want it," he said petulantly.
Morgan sighed and set the card down. "Kal," he growled, pushing Clark to the bed. "I'm letting you go. After today, I swear I will never interfere in your life again."
"Why not?" Clark asked, squeezing Morgan's shoulders. "In a year I'll be legal, and..."
"And in a year, I'll be sixty," Morgan said gently. He bussed Clark's lips with his own. "I'm too old for you, Kal. And I'm a criminal. That's not what you need in your life."
"Why do you get to decide?"
"Because I'm not the hormonal teenager," Morgan answered, sliding his hand inside Clark's shirt. "I'm the adult in this situation."
"Don't pull that shit on me," Clark said angrily, squirming under Morgan. "You can't say that after all I've been through this summer that I'm just some hick kid, okay? I want to be with you."
"You can't," Morgan said harshly. He grabbed Clark by the wrists and forced them over his head. "I wish you could, all right? I miss you. But I've been able to breath a lot easier since you left."
"Gee, thanks."
Morgan laughed softly and kissed him. A real kiss this time, and his hands slid down Clark's arms to cup his neck. "I haven't had to worry about you leaving me. About you getting hurt. About Lion... about anyone hiring you away from me, or you moving on to better game. And I haven't had to worry about whether I should keep you or send you away." He caressed Clark's face with his thumbs. "You aren't a normal boy, Kal. And while my life isn't normal, it isn't for you. And I don't want you around."
"I see," Clark said thickly. "So, is this why you came? To tell me all this and get to be noble?"
"No. I came because my best friend is dead, and I needed some comfort. And," he added, smiling softly, "I came because I needed to see the one thing I ever got right."
Clark smiled and arched into Morgan. Lifting his head, he caught Morgan's lips with his own and kissed him deeply.
Sex between them had never been tender, and it wasn't exactly tender now. There was an urgency running through Clark, and a heady awareness that this was probably the last time he'd ever see Morgan. The thought tore Clark apart, made him feel hollow and anxious, but, deep down, he knew Morgan was right. There was no future they could have together and no way to step back from what they had meant to each other and still keep in contact.
Morgan's hands caressed Clark as if memorizing him. His lips puzzled over the missing scar. His body pushed into Clark's with an air of worship mixed with loss.
Neither one ever closed their eyes, except when the pleasure proved to be too much. And, when it was over, Clark wrapped himself around Morgan and held on as tightly as he could, knowing that when he let go, Morgan would leave his life forever.
It was dark by the time Morgan forced Clark from bed. They showered together, hands worshiping and memorizing skin, mouths rarely leaving each other. Morgan had so many red marks on his neck and chest, he looked like he'd broken out with a strange rash, but Clark didn't care. He'd made his mark on his lover, and damned if he'd be forgotten.
"Take the money, Kal," Morgan said as he dressed. "I need to know that you'll have an education, and a future."
Clark nodded, throat closed with tears.
"Don't come to me unless you need help. And even then, make sure I'm the last resort."
"Okay," Clark whispered.
Morgan smiled and touched Clark's hair lightly. "Try to remember what I did... It was never just about sex or ownership."
"I know, Morgan. God, I ..." Clark licked his lips. "You were the best chance I took. I don't know if I'd be here if I hadn't found you."
"I'm not sure about that. You're a remarkable boy. And now I want you to listen closely." Morgan framed Clark's face in his hands and gazed into his eyes seriously. "You're too old for this town, too great for this life. You have money in your name. I promise I won't give you anything else, and that I haven't given you anything we didn't agree on up front. This is payment for your time with me, and the jobs you did, even though I know you would have been there without being paid. I understand. But I never renege on a deal." He paused a moment, as if waiting for Clark to protest.
Clark remained silent.
Morgan nodded. "Promise me that you listen to what you're feeling. You're not meant for Smallville, and I think you're being stifled. You have money to start a new life. I'm not saying that you should run away again. Maybe you should go to college early, or graduate from high school now and travel. Whoever your choice, do it soon. Start the rest of your life now. Promise me."
Clark's throat closed up. But he nodded and whispered, "I promise."
Morgan smiled and caressed Clark almost lovingly. Then he leaned close, hand fisting in Clark's hair. His lips were fierce, tongue demanding as they plundered Clark's mouth, taking and memorizing, kissing Clark until he was breathless and dizzy. "Good-bye, Kal," he whispered into Clark's mouth. He stayed close for a moment, breathing heavily in time with Clark. Then, he pulled away and left.
He never looked back.
When he was gone, Clark curled on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He stayed there for nearly an hour, tears closing his throat and pounding behind his eyelids. It'd been so hard to leave Morgan the first time, and now... He had closure. They'd said their goodbyes, what more could he ask for?
It hurt more than he'd ever imagined it could. But, then, Morgan was the only one who really made him feel normal, so what had Clark expected.
When the tears went away and the pain in his throat faded, Clark rose. He picked up the debit card and PIN and shoved both in his pocket.
"Goodbye, Morgan," he whispered to the empty room. Then he went home, determined to start the rest of his life.
To be concluded...
One more part after this.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
*Three Months Later*
"Wow," Chloe said, setting down the paper. She looked shell shocked as she shook her head. "Wow."
"Yeah," Clark said grimly.
"That poor man."
"Which one? Lionel or Lex?"
Chloe blinked at him, frowning. "Lex Luthor, of course. Lionel is the jerk who committed suicide. And he's dead. Why feel sorry for him?" She shook her head and looked back down at the article. "No, I feel sorry for Lex. I mean, my God, he found his father wish his head blown off and then wrote an article about it. I mean, that takes dedication."
"Yeah." Clark rubbed his chin morosely. "Or a level of masochism that's beyond reason."
"Well, I don't think it's that bad."
"*You* read the article. Jesus, it's like he just peeled his skin off layer by layer. It hurt me to read, and I couldn't stand Lionel."
"Yeah, but you have some weird crush on Lex," Chloe said with laughter on the edge of her voice. "Seriously, you did meet him while you were hiding in Metropolis, right?"
Clark sighed and rubbed his eyes. "No, I didn't. I was sent out to find him once, right after LuthorCorp fell, but I couldn’t find him." He scrubbed his face and wondered if he should go to Metropolis and look for Lex. Make sure he was okay. After all Morgan...
Then again, maybe he should go to Morgan. Or call him. After all, Lionel had been Morgan's friend, and for him to be dead... It had to be hard.
It'd been three months since Clark had left. Left the penthouse with every intention of coming back, and then simply... hadn't. He felt bad for not going back, but, on the other hand, he had the vague sense that it was easier on both of them that way. Clark didn't have to explain anything and Morgan... Well, truthfully, Clark didn't know what Morgan would have done.
Life back home wasn't easy. Despite an apology from his father, Clark still wasn't comfortable around him. Dad truly seemed sorry about what he'd said, and he was doing everything he could to make Clark feel comfortable, but there was still a lot hanging between them. Mom said things would get better with time, and all Clark could do was trust her.
A few weeks after he'd returned home, the caves called to him. Clark had gone, heart pounding, not sure of what was going to be expected of him this time, but ready to submit. He'd tried to resist Jor-El before and had end up hurting his mother. Now, he'd lost Morgan, too, and Clark just didn't want to fight anymore.
To his surprise, Jor-El simply said the first test was over, removed the scar, and warned that when he called again, Clark better come ready to face his destiny. That was it. Clark didn't know whether to be relieved nothing more was being asked of him or angry that he'd been put through this in the first place.
He'd decided to be relieved, and then went about the business of his life. His boring, small, almost painful life.
"Clark?" Chloe broke into his thoughts.
He blinked. "Sorry. I was just... I think I'm going to take off."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He smiled wanly. "I'm just a little homesick, I guess."
Chloe wrinkled her nose. "But you are home."
"For now." He shrugged and picked the backpack up. "I'll call you later."
"Okay. Bye."
Clark put his backpack on and left the Torch office. His mind was preoccupied with Lionel and Morgan and the suicide. It wasn't that Clark thought that Lex hadn't been truthful when he reported the suicide--because, Lord knows, anything *that* painful to read had to be ten times more painful to write, and why make it up--it was just that Lionel Luthor didn't strike him as the type of kill himself. Not like that. He was too arrogant and stubborn.
But he had killed himself. Unless, Lex was right. Even though he'd written about the suicide, he suggested several times that Lionel may have been murdered. Maybe...
Clark stopped short.
"Hello, Kal," Morgan said softly. He was leaning against his car, arms crossed comfortably over his chest. His cloths were back, his hair stirred in the light wind, and his blue eyes gleamed in a familiar way beneath his glasses.
"Morgan." Clark walked quickly to him, and then stopped, unsure of what he should do.
Morgan smiled at him, and reached out to touch his hair affectionately. "You look well."
"So do you." He did. He also looked extremely tired, which made sense, since his best friend had just committed suicide. "Um, I read the article. How is he doing?"
"Lex? I don't know. I'm hoping to see him at the funeral on Saturday, but he's not returning my calls."
"How are you?"
Morgan shrugged. "He was my best and oldest friend. I remember him as a dirty-faced urchin in overalls, a cocky teenager, and a brash young adult. I was his best man at his wedding. I witnessed the birth of his children. I stood by him at his wife's funeral, and now on Saturday, I have to attend his." He sighed again and rubbed his chin. "A part of me thought Lionel Luthor to be immortal, and yet he proved to be as human as anyone."
"I’m sorry," Clark said, and he meant it.
Morgan's smile was strange and bitter. "Yes," he said softly. "I’m sorry too." Morgan's eyes seemed far away, like he was gazing through Clark. Then, he shook himself and his gaze sharpened. "Come with me."
Clark licked his lips, swaying into Morgan. "Where?"
"There's a motel in Grandville. I'm not trying to take you away. I just need..." He trailed off and smiled wistfully.
There wasn't anything to do but kiss him then, and Clark really didn't care if anyone saw. Let people think what they wanted about him; all of it was probably true.
Clark called home on the way, explaining that he was going to be out late and didn't know when he'd get home. His mother didn't sound happy, but Clark didn't care. He'd been playing the good boy for three months, now.
Morgan had already checked into the motel, so they were able to go directly to the room. Once they were inside, Clark said what had been on his mind for months now.
"You let me go."
Morgan nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. He folded it in half and draped it across a chair. "I did," he said, walking to the windows. He closed the curtains.
"Why?" Clark unbuttoned his flannel, but didn't take it off. He figured he was here to have sex, but didn't want to look like an idiot of he was wrong.
"Why keep you when you so obviously belonged here?"
Clark snorted and sat on the bed. "I don't feel like I belong here." He chewed on his bottom lip. "I didn't really fit in before, and now it's like there's this huge gulf between me and everyone. They're all so young and hopeful, and I'm just..."
"Not an innocent anymore."
He shook his head and sighed. "No."
Morgan crossed the room and sat next to Clark. "You're not innocent anymore, Kal. You're a retired prostitute, a former petty thief, and have seen a man get his head blown off in front of you." He touched Clark's face gently. "You've run away from home, done things they've only seen in movies, and gotten away with things they could never dream of. You've a beautiful light in you, Kal. A wonderful optimism, despite what you've lived through. Your soul is older than theirs, and you are more mature than the average high school student."
"I hate it here," Clark admitted. He leaned and rested his head on Morgan's shoulder. "I mean, I love my mother, and I'm not all that unhappy on the farm, but I don't want to be here anymore."
"So go."
"I can't. I don’t have anywhere to go. Not anymore." He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Would knowing that you have seventy thousand dollars help?"
Clark lifted his head. "What?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic card. "This is a debit card for your savings account. All the money I owe you is in there. I've written the PIN on this paper, and you can change it whenever you want."
"I can't..."
"It saves me the time and trouble of having to set up a scholarship foundation that you are sure to win it for college. Kal, please. You earned the money."
Something inside Clark broke, and he pulled away. "I don't want it," he said petulantly.
Morgan sighed and set the card down. "Kal," he growled, pushing Clark to the bed. "I'm letting you go. After today, I swear I will never interfere in your life again."
"Why not?" Clark asked, squeezing Morgan's shoulders. "In a year I'll be legal, and..."
"And in a year, I'll be sixty," Morgan said gently. He bussed Clark's lips with his own. "I'm too old for you, Kal. And I'm a criminal. That's not what you need in your life."
"Why do you get to decide?"
"Because I'm not the hormonal teenager," Morgan answered, sliding his hand inside Clark's shirt. "I'm the adult in this situation."
"Don't pull that shit on me," Clark said angrily, squirming under Morgan. "You can't say that after all I've been through this summer that I'm just some hick kid, okay? I want to be with you."
"You can't," Morgan said harshly. He grabbed Clark by the wrists and forced them over his head. "I wish you could, all right? I miss you. But I've been able to breath a lot easier since you left."
"Gee, thanks."
Morgan laughed softly and kissed him. A real kiss this time, and his hands slid down Clark's arms to cup his neck. "I haven't had to worry about you leaving me. About you getting hurt. About Lion... about anyone hiring you away from me, or you moving on to better game. And I haven't had to worry about whether I should keep you or send you away." He caressed Clark's face with his thumbs. "You aren't a normal boy, Kal. And while my life isn't normal, it isn't for you. And I don't want you around."
"I see," Clark said thickly. "So, is this why you came? To tell me all this and get to be noble?"
"No. I came because my best friend is dead, and I needed some comfort. And," he added, smiling softly, "I came because I needed to see the one thing I ever got right."
Clark smiled and arched into Morgan. Lifting his head, he caught Morgan's lips with his own and kissed him deeply.
Sex between them had never been tender, and it wasn't exactly tender now. There was an urgency running through Clark, and a heady awareness that this was probably the last time he'd ever see Morgan. The thought tore Clark apart, made him feel hollow and anxious, but, deep down, he knew Morgan was right. There was no future they could have together and no way to step back from what they had meant to each other and still keep in contact.
Morgan's hands caressed Clark as if memorizing him. His lips puzzled over the missing scar. His body pushed into Clark's with an air of worship mixed with loss.
Neither one ever closed their eyes, except when the pleasure proved to be too much. And, when it was over, Clark wrapped himself around Morgan and held on as tightly as he could, knowing that when he let go, Morgan would leave his life forever.
It was dark by the time Morgan forced Clark from bed. They showered together, hands worshiping and memorizing skin, mouths rarely leaving each other. Morgan had so many red marks on his neck and chest, he looked like he'd broken out with a strange rash, but Clark didn't care. He'd made his mark on his lover, and damned if he'd be forgotten.
"Take the money, Kal," Morgan said as he dressed. "I need to know that you'll have an education, and a future."
Clark nodded, throat closed with tears.
"Don't come to me unless you need help. And even then, make sure I'm the last resort."
"Okay," Clark whispered.
Morgan smiled and touched Clark's hair lightly. "Try to remember what I did... It was never just about sex or ownership."
"I know, Morgan. God, I ..." Clark licked his lips. "You were the best chance I took. I don't know if I'd be here if I hadn't found you."
"I'm not sure about that. You're a remarkable boy. And now I want you to listen closely." Morgan framed Clark's face in his hands and gazed into his eyes seriously. "You're too old for this town, too great for this life. You have money in your name. I promise I won't give you anything else, and that I haven't given you anything we didn't agree on up front. This is payment for your time with me, and the jobs you did, even though I know you would have been there without being paid. I understand. But I never renege on a deal." He paused a moment, as if waiting for Clark to protest.
Clark remained silent.
Morgan nodded. "Promise me that you listen to what you're feeling. You're not meant for Smallville, and I think you're being stifled. You have money to start a new life. I'm not saying that you should run away again. Maybe you should go to college early, or graduate from high school now and travel. Whoever your choice, do it soon. Start the rest of your life now. Promise me."
Clark's throat closed up. But he nodded and whispered, "I promise."
Morgan smiled and caressed Clark almost lovingly. Then he leaned close, hand fisting in Clark's hair. His lips were fierce, tongue demanding as they plundered Clark's mouth, taking and memorizing, kissing Clark until he was breathless and dizzy. "Good-bye, Kal," he whispered into Clark's mouth. He stayed close for a moment, breathing heavily in time with Clark. Then, he pulled away and left.
He never looked back.
When he was gone, Clark curled on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He stayed there for nearly an hour, tears closing his throat and pounding behind his eyelids. It'd been so hard to leave Morgan the first time, and now... He had closure. They'd said their goodbyes, what more could he ask for?
It hurt more than he'd ever imagined it could. But, then, Morgan was the only one who really made him feel normal, so what had Clark expected.
When the tears went away and the pain in his throat faded, Clark rose. He picked up the debit card and PIN and shoved both in his pocket.
"Goodbye, Morgan," he whispered to the empty room. Then he went home, determined to start the rest of his life.
To be concluded...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 06:29 pm (UTC)I really like Sympathy for the Devil as a title. It fits this story well, especially when you consider Morgan's role in LLAR. That would be my vote.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-30 10:41 am (UTC)He really doesn't. I wish I had time in this fic to show what he does and how he gets from this angry teen trapped in SV to the sweet, flirty, almost-innocent cub reporter we meet in LLAR. But that's a whole *other* fic and I'm afraid it'd be too much telling and not enough mystery. Plus, I really have no idea of all the details; just soem of the outlines. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-30 10:42 am (UTC)Though really, MOrgan doesn't seem that devilish.
No, he really doesn't. But I wonder how many villans actually do when viewed through their lover's eyes.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 07:40 pm (UTC)Hope
no subject
Date: 2004-07-30 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-29 08:30 pm (UTC)I'm always a lurker for I'm not a native English speaker. And this wonderful story make me just want to say my thanks and appreciation for your writing. No matter how I'm going to embarassing myself.
This story has this perfect balance between Morgan and Clark. I think the reason I love this story most is that it shows the growth of Clark; He crossed the line eyes wide open. And I love Morgan to feel proud for himself of letting Clark go.
Thank you for sharing such a great story with us!
no subject
Date: 2004-07-30 10:49 am (UTC)Hey! Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked this story! I really am mainly a Clark/Lex shipper too. I would never want either one to end up with anyone else, but I was so fascinated by the chemistry between Kal and Morgan in Exile that I *had* to play with it. I think what made writing this easier was the face I know that Clark and Lex are destined and, in fact, do end up together. So I didn't have to feel like I was betraying anyone.
I'm always a lurker for I'm not a native English speaker. And this wonderful story make me just want to say my thanks and appreciation for your writing
Thank you so much for commenting. I took foregin langages classes and don't think I ever spoke I was so afraid of messing up. I really admire and envy your courage and commenting. I don't know if i could, no matter what the fic. :)
I think the reason I love this story most is that it shows the growth of Clark; He crossed the line eyes wide open. And I love Morgan to feel proud for himself of letting Clark go
I think was made this even more fun was the fact that, in the beginning, CLark actually didn't know what he was getting himself into. He was attracted to Morgan and liked the idea of being paid for having sex. And then, Morgan turns out to be a killer, but Clark stays anyone and does make that choice. I think it sort of speaks to the man he will become that he forces himself to see the man inside the monster and not jump to easy conclusions. This is totally unlike Jonathan and the way Clark was raised. I'm hoping Clark on the show comes to a similar path in his development, because he's sliding away from it right now.
Thanks again for commenting!
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Date: 2004-07-29 11:14 pm (UTC)Absolutely beautiful chapter, I love this story so much.
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Date: 2004-07-30 10:50 am (UTC)I hate writing good-byes, even when they're inevitable. *sigh*
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Date: 2004-07-31 06:21 pm (UTC)*still weeping*
Date: 2004-08-17 11:36 pm (UTC)It's true, Clark is ready for so much more than Smallville can ever give him, in your fic here especially and on the show.
Tearfully heading to the final part now.
**hugs**
Re: *still weeping*
Date: 2004-08-18 11:38 am (UTC)He's grown up so much during this summer, somethign eh didn't quite do on the show. I think, though, it has more with how they brought him back and then the creators insistence of leaving the past in the past instead of having it logically redirect his life. But, in fanfic, we get to explore all the avenues not taken on the show. :)