The Memoirs

Jesus fucking Christ.  If Lex hadn't had a headache when he'd left the hospital, he sure as hell had one now.  Shayla hadn't shut up all the way home, Ms. Bird was fussing over him in the back seat, and she'd confiscated the prescriptions too, to make sure that he'd be taking them.

Not just that.  No, that wasn't nearly enough to complicate his life.  His father was even as he bitched being settled into a room in Smallville Medical. 

 

The rest of the clan was either clucking over Lionel or had followed him home. 

 

And that was it.  "GET OUT!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.  "OUT!  NOW!  OUT OF MY HOUSE!  OUT THIS MOMENT!   GET OUT, GET OUT!"

 

Megan jumped half a mile...looking into his furious eyes, and immediately snagged her mother’s elbow. "I...er....Lex?"

 

And a pert eyebrow rose on Chloe's face as she crossed her arms and fed the brat a glare. "Excuse me?"

 

"OUT!!!!"  He slammed the scotch decanter down and turned on them in the hallway.  "Get out of my house.  Go shopping.  Go fuck your boyfriend.  Just get... the hell... out.  Now.  Come back tomorrow when I'll apologize for being an ass.  Get out.  Now."

 

Megan dragged her mother out with one hand, and Chloe with the other, motioning for Ms Bird as her mother stuttered behind her.

 

"Fuck you too, LEX!" Chloe yelled, grabbed her boyfriend by the arm, and stomped out. "The thanks for helping a guy! Christ!"

 

He didn't give a damn what they thought of him... just so long as they got the fuck out.  As soon as the last door slammed behind them, Lex sagged against the wall in utter relief and despair.  He slid down to the floor, head resting on his knees as he closed his eyes for just a moment.  "Clark... where the hell are you?" 

 

It was driving him crazy not knowing, and he pulled himself to his feet, intending to go to his bedroom as he dragged himself up stair after stair.  At the top of the staircase, he looked down the three halls that were his choices.  Instead of taking the one that led to his room, or his father's office, Lex took the third hallway instead. 

 

His footsteps echoed loudly in the uninhabited wing.  "Mom?  I need your help," Lex said softly.  "He's gone.  Clark's gone, and I don't know where to find him.  I love him so much... you'd be proud of me, I think.  You'd like Clark; he's a good man.  He's what you always wanted me to be, and now... now something's gone wrong, and I can't find him.  Please, Mother... help me find my baby."

 

And as if Lillian had come back from the grave to help her one treasure in the world....there he was. Clark sat scrunched up as deep as he could in a single corner...a corner Lex used to play in, as he'd stolen it from his lover’s thoughts. Knees at his chest, hair sopping with sweat, rocking and singing to himself. Laughing softly....sobbing a second later, and singing all over again.

 

The sound of crying led Lex to his mother's bedroom, and then as soon as he was in the doorway, he saw him.  "Clark!"  Lex hurried over to his love, wincing at the speed and the altitude change as he got to his knees in front of him.  "Baby, please... it's me.  It's Lex.  Clark, come on.  Please."  He reached out to put a hand on his love's shoulder.

 

He snarled and pulled back… then sobbed a moment later, rubbing his fiery cheek against his knees, over and over and over...until his skin was raw, and the fact that Clark could make his invulnerable skin raw was terrifying in and of itself. "No, no, no...have to go, go far, far, go, go to Venice, Venice and the beach, go, go and see them, you have to go, go, go, stay away, go, go.."

 

He jerked back at the snarl, and fought the rolling boil of fear and terror in his belly.  "I'm not going to leave you, Clark.  Not... not until you talk to me.  Please... I'm so scared."  He reached out again, trying to touch the raw skin of his lover.  "Come on... come with me.  Let's get you cleaned up."

 

"No. You don’t understand." He was suddenly desperate, and he grasped both of Lex's arms, giving him a single rough shake. "They’re going to eat all the salad and theirs nothing we can do! Lex! You have to go, baby, you have to go and get away from me, go, get away, you cant be here when I wear a second coat, get out! GET OUT!" But it was a harsh, heavy laugh, rumbling through his chest as if Lex had just told a particularly funny story.

 

"No!  You're not making any sense!"  Lex shook back, teeth rattling and eyes watering as the throbbing in the back of his head made itself known again.  "Clark, you're scaring me!  Let me help!"

 

"I AM MAKING SENSE!" He screamed from his heart and with the touch, the grip on Lex's arms, he opened their floodgates.

 

Before it had been pleasure, undeniable joy and giddy heat. But this time...this time he shared pain. Agony rolling under his skin, too hot and too cold, his body feeling like it was on fire one moment, flames licking at his sides, to icy cold the next. The thoughts in his mind, jumbled and erratic and Clark was screaming in his mind, screaming for God and mercy and someone to help him, because their was no way that he could be going through this and there wasn’t anything anyone could do.

 

He shared his horror, his fear, each a heavy, harsh spike before he let go, and slammed their sharing shut, tight, vice tight, locking his lover out and he laughed and laughed and cried in the next breath.

 

Lex screamed.  As Clark screamed in his mind, Lex screamed out loud.  Nothing made sense; nothing that he'd seen or felt made any sense to him at all.  The only things he knew is that Clark was in pain, Clark needed help.  "I'm here, Clark... you have to tell me, baby.  Tell me what I can do to help you.  I don't know.  You have to tell me, Clark. Tell me what you need."

 

"The rabbit. The rabbit says he's going to get the hat, and the book, and we're going to go outside because its hot in here and he's got tea. Tea, tea, tea. Teee. Afterwards, I promised you I was going to kiss you, because I love us and you like feathers." He nodded, shaking, as if this made perfect sense… and groaned, banging his head against the wall hard enough to make it dent, and debris fell from the ceiling.

 

Alice in Wonderland, and wasn't that appropriate because Lex just felt like he'd fallen through the rabbit hole.  "Clark, come on.  Come on.  Let's go to..."  and he stopped.  He couldn't take Clark to their room.  His blood was still soaking the bathroom floor.  "Come on.  Let's go upstairs.  Let's get in the shower, get you stripped down and clean, okay?"  He crouched beside Clark.  "Baby... please.  I love you, I want to help you, but you're scaring me so badly.  I don't know what to do for you."

 

"I love you, Lex." And his smile was so sweet and soft as he cupped Lex's cheeks tenderly, looking at him like he might any other time. The expression was gone, a moment later, and he slowly started to uncurl and get to his feet, trembling and raking his fingers up and down his thighs. "I’m dirty. They made us dirty, playing in the mud, but it was fun, right dad? I want another mud hole, I want want..." His voice drifted away and he started to hum again, quietly, looking around the room as if he’d been there all his life.

 

The truck door slammed with a reverberating clang behind her, and Martha rushed to her husband, following him as they bolted up the steps to their home. "Hurry Jonathan, get the house open!" She stood behind him for a half a second, waiting, tension alive in her body and arms.

 

Lex's breath caught in his throat as he felt the delicate fingers touching his skin and he kissed them.  "I love you, Clark."  Then he was gone, and Lex pulled himself to stand up as well, fighting the wave of nausea and reaching for Clark's hand.  "Come on.  Just come with me, baby, and everything will be all right.  I promise."

 

Jonathan was fumbling with the key and cursing the sticky lock when finally it gave, and they spilled into the house.  "Oh, no," he breathed, looking at the answering machine.  The light flashed steadily, indicating there were messages.

 

"I want to sleep. I’m so hot. Hot." He scraped at the sweat sliding down his neck and face, pushing the moist curls from his eyes and sobbing again. "I’m hot. But I don’t want sex. Do you want soap? I like soap. Soap, soap. And trees. Trees are so pretty, like a bunch of pictures flying around in the tornado."

 

Martha yanked the phone up, and without thinking twice, dialed the mansion on the hill and pressed the phone to her ear as she motioned for Jonathan to listen to the messages.

 

The phone rang and Clark leapt like a rabbit, letting out a terrified wail and dropping, immediately covering his head with his hands.

 

"Nobody's going to make you have sex, Clark.  But come on.  Come with me.  We can take a cool shower, cool you down so you're not so hot.  And then we can lay down together, okay?  Just you and me.  I'll hold you.  No sex."  He held his hand out, and jumped himself when the phone rang, wincing at the wail as it split through his head and he grabbed the phone.  "Luthor!"

 

First message played.  "Martha, it's Rosalyn.  Something's happened to Lex, and they think that Clark's hurt him.  We know that's not the case, but they're taking him to the hospital here in Smallville now.  As soon as you get this message, come over.  Shayla will be waiting for you at the emergency room entrance and she'll know where to find us."  Sheer terror in Jonathan's heart as he looked at his wife.  Then the second message.  "Jonathan... Jon, it's Ethan.  I need you to call me soon as you get this.  The Luthor boy's been hurt, and the medics say that Clark had somethin' to do wit'it.  The police are puttin' out an APB on 'im, but if you know where he is... bring him on in, so they don't hafta hunt him down.  Nothin'll happen to him, Jon.  Y'got m'word."

 

"Lex! Lex, its Martha." She shared a terror stricken look with her husband, and brought the phone closer to her ear. "Lex, are you alright? Good god, we just got the messages, oh, Jesus."

 

"Martha!"  Oh, thank God.  "I'm a little... suffice it to say, I'm a little in over my head.  There is something very, very wrong with Clark.  He can't tell me, he's not making any sense, and I'm very, very worried about him.  I think you'd better get over here, now.  There's nobody else here, don't worry.  They're either at the hospital with my father, or went somewhere after I threw them out."

 

"Lex, you have to listen to me. Don’t let him near you. Don’t get near him, keep him away, we'll explain when we get there." And Martha hung up on him, grabbing Jonathans arm. "I’m going to change, get us some clothes, go to the mansion. I'll bring some clothes to you and drive my car, go. He's already started, Jonathan, you have to hurry."

 

"Nothing wrong, nothing wrong, nothing wrong." He whispered, rocking slowly back and forth as he uncovered his head and steadied his hands. "Noooothing....nothing is wrooongg.." Soft singing, and he moved his head in slow circles.

 

"I'm not--"  Lex threw the phone onto his mother's empty bed.  "I'm not leaving you alone, Clark."  Lex crouched on the floor in front of his lover, touching his hands gently.  "I'm not leaving you, Clark."

 

"Oh, mother of God."  Jonathan didn't even stop for a kiss from his wife; terror gripped his soul as he took the keys from the front door and tore back out to the truck.  Cursing the cold, he cranked it, and then floored it, going as fast as he dared, close to seventy, as he pushed the truck at it's top speed towards the mansion.

 

"Tired. Tired. Tired tired. Tired." And his lips, which burned him from the inside out, pressed up to Lex's mouth softly… sharing a strange, bitter taste, softly doing it again, again, and he cuddled in close. "Floor feels good. Floor is cold."

 

When he opened his eyes, all he could see was through Lex's skull… and he giggled, laughing as he reaching up to touch his face. "Brains."

 

Lex almost gagged on the bitter taste but he didn't let Clark know, instead cupping his cheek and kissing him back just as gently.  He laid down on the floor beside Clark, offering his arms.  "It's okay, baby... if the floor feels good to you, then this is where we'll lay."  He shivered.  "Seeing through my head?"  Then... an uncontrollable lurch of fear.  "Clark... I need you to do something for me.  Can you close your eyes, baby?  Close your eyes and keep them closed in case the lasers come?"

 

Jonathan was cursing.  What he wouldn't have given at that moment for his son's super speed, or one of Lex's fast cars.  His truck just wasn't moving fast enough, and he was cussing it for everything it was worth... which wasn't much.

 

He opened his eyes and tears were tumbling down his face, harsh and wet, and he whispered, very lucidly, "Its happening, Lex. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me...I love you, Lex, I love you, I'd never hurt you, not on purpose." He stroked a bare cheek gently with the back of his fingertips...before grasping his jaw, hard, and shoved him back. He watched him slide...laughing darkly and climbing to his feet, creaking his neck. "Stupid little ingrate. Little fool." He threw his head back, laughed… and mid laugh, it became a sweet, innocent giggle. He walked around in a circle, rubbing his face, and plopped down on his ass again, arms going about his knees and rocking.

 

Martha grabbed the first thing she could find...blue jeans and a red sweater. She grabbed a dark blue sweater for Jonathan, jeans and tennis shoes, and she leapt down the steps, nabbing her keys and racing out of the house.

 

"What's happening--"  That was all he got out before Clark's fingers cracked the bone of his jaw.  Didn't break it, Lex had had his jaw broken before, but it hurt like a bastard as he skidded back.  The back of his head felt skinned, and sure enough, when he touched it with the back of his fingertips, his hand came away bloody.  "Cl--Clark."  Crack of his jaw, and that made it easier to talk, sliding it back in place.  "What's... wrong with you?"  He crawled back over to Clark, safer than getting up to his feet again, and wrapped his arm around Clark's knees.  "What, baby... what's happening?  I love you."

 

Finally.  The mansion.  Jonathan flew up the steps, and threw the unlocked front door open.  "Clark!!  Lex!!!"  He headed for the grand staircase, still calling out the boys' names.

 

"Rabbits coming, and then there’s--" He looked up, like a terrified animal, and leapt back, racing to the far corner at super speed and sinking down, crying all over again as he hid his face. "No, no, no, no, noo… no, no… he's going to take you away and then I’m going to be alone and no one loves Kal-El, no one, no one no one, hot, want you, hot inside my belly, so hungry, no one, no one.."

 

"No!!"  Lex dragged himself to his feet, feeling so weak and washed out, body turning into one huge receptacle of pain.  "Nobody is going to take me away from you, Clark.  I swear that to you."  He dropped to his knees for what would probably be the last movement he made for a while, and put his hand on Clark's shoulder.  "Nobody will take Oakenepel from his aushna'.  Nobody will take Oakenepel away from Kal-El." 

 

Jonathan heard their voices, heard the shrieking and crying.  "Lex!!!  Get away from him!"

 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kent, but I can't do that!" Lex shouted back.  "I'm not letting you or anyone else take me away from Clark when he needs me!"

 

"Should have listened. Always should listen. Always. Papa knows. He knows." Clark nodded, set his palms on either side of Lex's face, and touched their foreheads together.

 

The world, as they knew it, faded away. Gone. Not just black, or faded...gone. Down to a dark, deep place where Clark was waiting this out, as he always did. Where the real him came to hide, to find a place to get away from the screaming voices, and through the awesome power he could wield through love...he brought Lex with him. He touched his lovers face...skimmed his body, whispered quietly, and spoke in his mother tongue. Don’t be frightened. I would never hurt you, Aushna. I am young… but I will learn. Don’t give up on me.

 

I know you won't, Kal-El.  I trust you.  Lex didn't know exactly where he was, how he'd gotten here, and he didn't care.  He reached out to Clark, his Clark, and touched in return.  I will never give up on you.  I am frightened, but not of you... I am frightened for you.  You are hurting, and I can't help you.  He wasn't even frightened that he could understand what Clark was saying to him.  I am frightened because I cannot help you.

 

Jonathan followed Lex's shout upstairs, to the dusty wing, and the deserted hallways.  It was easy to follow the footprints on the fine layer of dust, and he started in shock when he saw what was happening.  "Clark... let him go.  Let Lex go before you hurt him."  His eyes fell to the row of stitches across the back of Lex's head.  "Let go before you hurt the boy again."

 

Be there for me. You'll understand. Give it time. You'll understand my pain. Go now. Go. Listen to the father. Listen to him.

 

Clark was screaming bloody murder as he let go of his lover. On top of his lungs, a dark, masculine scream of pure fury and agony, throwing his head back and smashing against the wall, plaster raining down on them as he wailed. He shoved at everything around him and scratched at his skin violently, hard, writhing against himself like it was painful to be inside his body.

 

Once. Twice.

 

And he fell ever so easily into unconsciousness as he slid onto the floor and lay still.

 

 "Lex!"  Jonathan caught the boy as he stumbled back, holding his forearms in a tight grip.  "No!  Let him go!  Lex!  Let him go!"

 

"Clark!!"  Lex was trying to break out of Jonathan's grip, but he wasn't quite able to.  His head was swimming and he couldn't jerk away.  "Let me go, Jonathan!  He needs me!"  The thought of being kept away from his lover was driving him insane.

 

"Lex! Dammit, boy!" He tugged, hard, until he fell backwards with Lex on top of him, and the electric surge shocked him. It singed the air, hot and heavy and molten for just a moment... and the boys let go. His son, his boy, his Clark, lay there on the floor, unconscious… but it was for the best. "Lex. Lex, are you alright, son?"

 

"Let go!  I'm fine, let go of me!  I have to get back to Clark!  What do you think you're doing!?"  Lex was struggling against Jonathan as much as he could.  "What's going on, Jonathan?  What's going on with Clark?"

 

Jonathan grabbed Lex by the shirt collars and tugged him up, sitting him rump first on the cold tile...and situated himself between him and Clark. "Son, you need to calm down." He put his hands on both his shoulders and willed this child, this boy borne of his wife’s body, to look at him. "Clark's gonna be fine. That I promise. Calm down... can you breathe all right? You’re pantin' like a jack rabbit. Leave Clark be...sit a minute and calm yourself down."

 

Lex batted the man's hands off his collar.  "What's going on with Clark?" he repeated.  He leaned his head forward, raising his knees to rest his head on as he sucked in deep breaths.  He hadn't had breathing troubles like this since his last asthma attack, and he drew in deep lungfuls of air.  "Clark needs me, Jonathan.  I promised I wouldn't leave him alone.  Let me get to him, please."

 

And Jonathan did the only thing he knew how to. Leaned over and gently pat Lex on the back, soothing him so he could breathe. "Clark....Clark goes through these things every year. We lost tracka time this year, what with everything that’s been going on. It's...well, we don’t really know what to call it, actually. Shedding... molting's a good one. Change? Whatever suits you. He...he goes a little...what’s the word I’m looking for...insane."

 

A bubble of laughter that bordered on the hysterical side.  "Insane?  Talking to people that aren't there?  Mood swings?  Why the hell didn't you tell me!"  He let his head drop back on his knees, breathing harshly.  "Didn't warn me... don't trust me, do you, Jonathan?  Do I have to die to prove that I love your son?"

 

That one struck him, and hard, to boot. He flinched back... shocked for a moment, and kind of... kind of hurt. Very hurt. "I trust you with my boy, Lex, but you have to know its not been easy to give you my trust. I didn’t want my son to get hurt. But now that you both are... together, and I’ve seen you...I trust you. I just forgot, is all." He frowned a little, leaning down a little to look at him. "Insane. Mood swings, talking to people that aren’t there. Last year he tore half the barn down. Smashed in a side of our tractor. Destroyed his room. Hit on Lana, all but eye beamed her to death. Stole the truck for a joy ride in Metropolis. Got drunk. Ended up in jail, actually. Seems that as he gets older it gets worse and worse. And there isn’t anything that can hold him in.  He landed me in the hospital.  And after he came back to himself, he couldn’t even remember."

 

"I'll find a way," Lex said softly.  "I'll find a way to help him.  He's never had me before, Jonathan, but he does now, and I won't let him go through this alone again."  He touched the stitches at the back of his head, and then the skinned places on the crown.  "He can't keep me down for long; the meteors saw to that."  He fixed his glare on Jonathan.  "I don't care if he remembers or not, the point is Clark is my... my..." he stopped, hunting for the word in English that translated, and could not find one.  "My aushna'.  I'll never let him be alone again, and I'll not let you or anyone else stand between us when he needs me."

 

Jonathan's eyes were a little wide...a little worried, and more then a little shocked. He kept them on Lex's....ducking his head when Lex did, and set his hands on his shoulders again. "Your ashma?"

 

"Aushna'," Lex snapped, looking at his lover's father. 

 

"What’s that, Lex?" Very softly, and the sinking feeling in his belly only dropped even further.

 

"Aushna'.  It's one of Clark's words."  Lex exhaled slowly.  "It's love.  A very special, transcending kind of love, that so few people ever find that there's no words to describe it.  But Clark and I have it."

 

Holy, God. He sat back slowly, right on his own ass, looking at the floor between them for a moment...then to Clark, half behind him, lying unconscious.

 

"J--Oh, God!" Martha cried it, running in and immediately dropping to her knees, cupping Lex's head because she saw blood, blood and blood and she grabbed his cheeks and angled his face toward her. "Oh, God, Lex! Sweetheart, are you alright??"

 

"I'm fine, Martha."  Quietly, with none of the venom he'd had towards Jonathan.  "It's just a few scratches, nothing of importance."  He turned and bent his head as her gentle touches directed.

 

She fretted, because it was her way. Gently, stroking his cheeks, his nose, then the crown of his head, peering at it diligently for a few moments...before her eyes fell on her son, and she exhaled with an almost relief. "God. Did he hurt you, Lex? I’m so sorry, sweetie, I’m sorry."

 

"It wasn't his fault; he wasn't himself.  It's only a few stitches, and they'll be gone in a few days."  He touched her hand lightly, resting his grip on her wrist.  "What's happening, Martha?  What's happening to my Clark?"  He didn't dislodge her careful touch from his aching head; it felt soothingly good.

 

"Come here, sweetie." She saw the desperate look for reassurance in his eyes when her husband hadn’t, pulling him as close as he would allow and stroking his back. "Clark goes through a little change every year, honey. He looses some skin, gains strength or powers, and grows a few inches in either direction. He's been like that since....well, since we got him, actually. I just want to make sure he didn’t hurt you, Lex."

 

"No, he didn't hurt me."  Lex gave in and wrapped his arms around Martha's waist, and it felt like being held in his mother's arms again.  The soft flow of red hair over her shoulder and hiding his face, the soft skin, the strong arms holding him tightly.  "He didn't hurt me.  He needs me, though... he said he was always alone, and I promised him that nobody would take me away from him."

 

"He doesn’t quite speak...lucidly for a few days. How long has he been acting strange, honey?" All said while holding him close, and her eyes flickered to her husbands.

 

"Um... since before Christmas, but I didn't notice it until we were at the hospital with my father.  That's when... that's when I started noticing it.  I hadn't slept in days, though... I thought it was just me.  But it's been getting worse."

 

Jonathan looked up at Martha, and rested his hand on Lex's back.  "I think... he was talking, Lex was, before you came in... talking about some kind of... some kind of word Clark had taught him.  I don't know what that means."  He said it softly, quietly.

 

"What word, Lex? Can you tell us?" She put her palm under his chin, lifting it so he would look at her. Calm the troops down. Get Clark cooled off and in bed. Calm the troops down again. Three wonderful goals.

 

"Aushna'," Lex said, without hesitation.  "He calls me that.  He told me what it means, it's a word that describes the relationship--the love--we have for each other."  His gaze was slightly defiant as he looked at her, as though daring her to question his feelings for Clark.  "He's taught me other words, too."

 

"Did he?" And in her mind, she watched as her baby boy looked up from his little spot on the wooden floor and spoke to her in the most beautiful of languages. Soft and languid, like water falling, smooth like silk but strong as steel. Watched, as her baby called her mama in his own words.

 

"He did.  We... we connected."  He didn't elaborate, didn't want to explain the intricacies of their relationship to Clark's parents.  He shifted his gaze to Jonathan.  "I know what you're thinking.  I haven't lost my mind, Mr. Kent.  And I'm not making anything up, either."

 

Jonathan wasn't really listening.  He'd heard Clark say Lionel had been in an accident, and he had been surprised to find that his belly didn't twist itself in a knot, didn't leap into his chest.  He felt deep sorrow, he was worried a little more than he should have been, but he didn't feel a driving need to go to the man's side.  Instead, he looked up at Martha, watching her cradling Lex, and slipped his hand over hers.

 

"We know that, sweetie." She hugged him again, hard as she could, and gently let him go so she could get up and walk around to her son. Oh, God. Her baby. It broke her heart, even when that heart knew it was for the best, and she gently touched a pale cheek as she crouched next to her Clark. All long, gangly limbs, cheek scratched raw which was horrifying, and his eyes closed with his lashes on his cheek. She gently touched his chest as a mother did, making sure he was still breathing...then his forehead, gently sweeping the sweat away. "Jonathan...we have to get him in bed. Lex, stay right where you are, I’m going to clean your head a bit."

 

Lex shook his head in the negative.  "I can't do that, Martha.  I'll help you.  You can put him on the bed in here; this was my mother's room; he'll be safe in here.  Nobody..."  he swallowed hard.  "Nobody comes in here anymore." He struggled to get to his feet, but swayed once when he got there, the head trauma starting to catch up with him.

 

Jonathan leapt up and caught him by the shoulders.  "Son, you're not gonna do Clark a damn bit of good if you drop him."

 

"And you're not dropping my baby, so sit down." She nodded, and for a little woman, she sure had a lot of strength. She pulled up her sons head...dead weight, set his head on her shoulder, and looped her arms around his chest. She climbed to her feet and began to drag him towards the bed, as if she was used to dragging her 6'4, 200 pound child across a room.

 

Jonathan pushed Lex into the nearest chair.  "Sit."  He sprinted over to Clark's feet, picking them up at the knees and helping carry him to the bed.

 

"I'm not a dog, Mr. Kent."  But even as Lex rose, his body simply refused to cooperate any further and it buckled, sending him sprawling back into the chair.  It creaked, but didn't give way under his weight as he lightly thumped the back of his head against the upholstery.

 

Between the both of them they wrestled Clark onto the covers...onto his belly, as some years before they'd found it caused him pain to sleep on his back during this time. She took off his flannel shirt and left him in the white t-shirt and jeans, gently covering him with the covers.

 

But Martha, if anything, was a determined woman, and she walked over to the chair Lex had sat himself in and offered her hand. "Lets go get you cleaned up."

 

Lex shook his head.  "I'm not leaving Clark."  He winced even as he shook it.  "I'm afraid I threw Ms. Bird and Enrique both out when I threw everyone else out, or I'd send them for what you need.  Clark and I share a bedroom, two halls over.  Third door on the right side, and the bathroom is straight through."  He shifted his gaze to Jonathan.  "Towels are in the side closet, and there should be a basin still in the bathroom from the other night."

 

"I'll go," Jonathan nodded, leaving his hand on Martha's shoulder.  "Tell me what all you need."

 

"Get me two towels, one moist. Some alcohol and swabs...a bit of cotton, if there’s any, and some medical tape." A nod at her husband, sharing a single look with him, before she walked across the enormous room. The marble floor under foot was the palest shade of rose, and it matched the cheerful goldenrod carpets and rose coverlet on the bed. It was a beautiful room, and she voiced it as she took a stool from underneath a lovely window, plush in her fingers as she walked back over to Lex with it in her arms. "Your mother had good taste, Lex."  She set the stool in front of him and seated herself... tugging her fingers through her hair a moment as she took his hands in hers. Her eyes were the richest, softest shade as she gazed at the boy, squeezing his fingers a moment. "Did he call you Aushna', Lex?" So LIKE her, to cut through the crap, to get to the meat.

 

"I'll be back in a minute."  He returned the gaze, nodded once in silent communion, and disappeared out the bedroom door.

 

Lex nodded towards the corner where Clark had collapsed earlier.  "That was my corner, when I was a boy.  I would hide here, in her room, and curl up in my corner and read.  She'd wake up and find me in there, and get me on the bed beside her and she'd read over my shoulder until she fell asleep again."  He looked around quietly.  "Yes, he did.  After the bout with the red meteors.  When I found him.  He called me his aushna', told me what it meant and that it was the word for us."  He rested his chin on his knee.  "He calls me reshkuma, too.  And my name--Oakenepel."  A deep sigh.  "It sounds better when he says it; I don't have the inflections right, or the accents."

 

Her fingers tightened...hard for a moment, and Martha searched Lex's eyes for a few long moments before she could relax. She pulled the hands close, hugged them almost, and spoke quietly. "When Clark was a very little boy, he didn’t speak any English. I taught him, before he joined school...he was 8 years old when I sent him to kindergarten, Lex. Clark's actually 19 years old." She paused softly, looking at him hard. "You cant tell him. He's not ready. In his mind, he's still a 16 year old boy, about to be 17, not twenty. If he knew...he's a good boy, my baby is a good boy. But he likes to test the waters… and... and I’m not ready to let him go." She swallowed once. "Anyway... he was five years old when I taught him the word "love"...and he would point to me, and Jonathan, and say aushna'. He and I were Ameelol. And my husband and I were aushna'. Lex... Clark is in love with you. He loves like he lives… only once, and fiercely. I know you love him, just as much...but sweetheart, are you ready for him?"

 

Lex listened quietly and looked up at Martha.  "Yes, I am.  I won't lie to you; I was scared when this happened, because I didn't know what was happening.  I didn't know if he was sick, or if he was rejecting me, or what.  I just didn't know."  He bent his head to show her the line of stitches.  "I got those this morning, Martha.  Clark threw me against the wall of the bathroom--oh, fucking Jesus."  He dropped his head.  "My blood is still in there."

 

Jonathan was dumbstruck.  The bed had been hastily made, but Clark's clothes were strewn everywhere, nothing like his usually neat son.  But the bathroom frightened him the most, the dark pool of sticky, drying blood on the marble tile.  Too big to step over, he'd have to step in the puddle of Lex's blood to get in the bathroom.

 

Lex shrugged... there was nothing he could do about the blood in the bathroom.  "I'm still here, Martha.  I came back to find him because I know--I KNEW, in my heart--that this wasn't Clark.  And I found him, here, crouched in the corner, miserable and crying.  I'm not leaving him now... I'm not leaving him ever.  Clark is my world, and I can't imagine a time in my life that he won't be.  He is everything to me, and I'll do anything to protect him."  He sighed.  "Clark is the first--only--person I have ever loved.  He's taught me how to love him, and I always will."

 

And Martha's smile was brilliant and beautiful. "Then you really are aushna', Lex." She couldn’t help it, alright? Tears pricked her eyes and she hugged him, fiercely, this child who was hers by every right, connected in the most impossible, beautiful of ways with a little candle in the wind who'd some how, through every obstacle standing in his way, made it into her hands.

 

Lex returned the tight embrace carefully.  "Yes, we are."  He rested his cheek on her shoulder as long as she'd let him.  Nobody'd held him this way since his mother had died, not even Dominic--Dominic had been close to him, but he hadn't been able to make Lex feel protected from the world.  Martha did, and so did her son.  "Thank you for believing in me, Martha."

 

"Of course I believe in you. Why wouldn’t I? You have a good head on your shoulders...a little bashed, at the moment, but its a good one, anyway. You have your fathers pride and dignity, and your mothers spirit. I’m proud for Clark to know you, Lex." She murmured it softly, and the tears fell as her face mirrored Clarks when he was crying because he was happy and sad in equal amounts. "I’m proud you've accepted him, and you love him, even when he bashes your head in, or worries you sick." She stroked his shoulders softly, keeping his face to hers.

 

"I wish..."  And another hard swallow at the sound of her tears.  "I wish that your husband felt the same way.  I've tried, Martha.  I've tried to make him see how much I love Clark, but I don't think he's ever seen anything but his feelings for my father." 

 

Jonathan had very carefully skirted the large bloodstain and had made it safely into the bathroom.  It was so hard to tear his eyes away from it, but he did, and sought out the things his wife needed.  He found everything but the medical tape, and packed them into the dry towel as he dampened another one under the faucet.  He wrung it out well, and carefully made his way around the puddle of blood as he left the bedroom behind him.

 

"Clark accepts me, whether I'm a good man or a bastard, and even when I hurt him, he forgives me and accepts that I make mistakes.  Anything that he does is acceptable to me."

 

"He loves you. And you love him. And I’m so proud that my two favorite people in the world are together, despite the prejudices and the things standing in their way. I’m proud you've given him love and accepted his in return, when he's not a woman and neither are you. I’m proud that you both found one another in all the adversity, sweetheart, and what’s more...it warms my heart that you've not only accepted it...you embrace it. Such courageous, sweet boys." And she pulled back a little to cup his cheeks and rub her thumbs against his cheekbones. "Come on, sweetie. I hear Jonathan coming back. Don’t worry about him....I know he supports you… its just hard for him. Because of your father."

 

"You never judged me on my father's merits, and neither did Clark," Lex said softly.  "I think that's why I care for you both such a great deal."  He looked at her a little shyly.  "I've wanted to be part of Clark's life as long as I've known him; it was nearly impossible not to love him." 

 

Jonathan cleared his throat as he came in the door, shifting the towel full of supplies in his hands.  "Here you are, honey.  I just couldn't find any of the adhesive tape you wanted."

 

Lex shook his head.  "I don't have it; it irritates my skin.  But if you must, I'm sure there's some left in my father's room from Dominic's injuries."

 

She grinned and cupped Lex's cheek... dammit, he was cute. He did have good genes, after all. "Clark’s like a puppy. Once you've seen him, once you've known him, you just want to snuggle him and hug him and not let go. My baby is destined for great things, Lex. And I’m so happy he's going to have you beside him to help."

 

Martha cast her gaze up to her returning husband, smiling as he handed her the things, and shook her head a little. "Check on Clark, sweetie, will you?"

 

Clark was dreaming. Everything was cast in soft, creamy light, and he was eating ice cream. Talking Chloe...dreaming with Lex, and laughing with Pete, who's face wasn’t as clear as it should have been.

 

He was sprawled on his belly on the bed...calm and quiet, chest rising and falling every so often as he slept. One arm under the pillow...the other wrapped around Lex's, having tugged it close at some point. The blanket just skimmed his shoulders, and one socked foot peaked out from the side of the bed.

 

"I told him when we first met that we had a future together," he said softly.  "I just didn't... know it would be like this.  Later... I told him our friendship would be the stuff that legends were cast from."  He swallowed.  "I'm the one who should be thankful that Clark is by my side."

 

Jonathan quietly surrendered the pile of goodies he'd brought from the bathroom, and went to sit on the bed beside his son.  His little boy--who was no longer little nor boy, but a man.  His hand rubbed Clark's back gently, not roughly.  "We're here, son.  Me and your mother and Lex," he said softly.  He was still hot... always, so hot, and Jonathan shook his head.  "Martha, we're gonna need to get him cooled down soon, or else he's gonna wake up cranky again."

 

"I know, honey. Let me finish Lex up, and I'll help you. Get his socks and shirt off, if you can." She nodded at her husband and worry lit her eyes, flickering her look to Lex a moment as she set the towel on her lap. Antibacterial...some peroxide and cotton. She uncapped the peroxide, pouring some on the cotton, and motioned her fingers. "Turn a little, honey. I’m going to clean up this scrape a little."

 

Lex slid to the floor on his knees, turning around so the back of his head and neck were exposed to Martha's gentle fingers.  "There."

 

Socks were the easiest to start with, and Jonathan slowly peeled them off, then covered up the naked feet before rolling the blanket down.  Clark was dead weight sleeping, and it was only with a little bit of grunting that he got the shirt off and dropped to the floor.  It was soaked with sweat.

 

A little nod. Scraped raw, right across the crown of his head... but no stitches were popped. Thirteen. She whistled softly, not touching the swollen area and instead gentle cleaning the scrape. "You’ve had your head wound for the year, dear."

 

Clark didn’t even stir...though he felt someone moving him, someone touching him. It was warm, though, and safe, so he didn’t wake enough to figure it out...just cuddling right back up into his pillow with the slightest of movements.

 

"I've had worse, don't worry."  He flinched just a little as the peroxide tingled against the open wound.  "It'll be better tomorrow, once I've had a chance to rest.  I'm not sure why, but I've always healed rather quickly.  The scrapes will be all but gone."

 

Jonathan left his hand on Clark's shoulders, rubbing them gently but not scratching.  Nothing that might aggravate him.  "That's right, son... you just rest now.  You've earned it."

 

"You'll be alright, sweetie." She smiled softly and finished cleaning the wound...a bit of blood, but it was all gone now. She pat the moist towel on...pressed her fingers to his forehead and her other hand to the towel, cooling the skin down like she'd done for her husband a half a thousand times. Always made it feel better, after all. A minute and she let go, setting the towel aside to inspect her work. "Perfect. Wait me to cover it up, sweetie?"

 

"No, it's not necessary, thank you."  He smiled up at her.  "I'll help you cool Clark down, if you'll just tell me what I can do."  He held her cool touch to his forehead as long as she'd let him and smiled when she let go.  "Much better."

 

"Of course. I’m a mom, aren’t I?" She pressed a soft, quick kiss to the crown of his head and rose, setting the towel and the used things on the small stool. "He gets very...angry when he's hot. Very angry. As in, he'll start screaming and throwing things and blowing holes through walls angry." She winced. "We don’t like that, and really, how many times do you have to replace the kitchen island before you get it?"

 

Lex nodded.  "I understand that perfectly.  My mother's bathroom is through that small door there; would you like to soak the sheets in cold water and wrap him in those?  I don't know what to do, Martha... please.  Give me something to do to help him."

 

"That’s perfect...we did that last year, actually." But she was frowning very lightly, and she sat on the other side of the bed to run her fingers through her babies hair, and murmured to her husband. "He's so hot, Jonathan."

 

Jonathan nodded quietly in agreement.  "I know.  Hotter than he's ever been, I'd reckon.  Don't know if that's a good thing or not."

 

"I'll go to the linen closet down the hallway and bring in dry sheets to soak."  Lex moved as quickly as his injured head would let him.

 

Jonathan waited till Lex got out of the room.  "You know how he got with the heat vision... reckon this fever could be cause he's... you know... a little more... erm, mature?"

 

Martha brought her eyes to her husband and reached over, clasping her hand in his. Now that Lex was out of the room the mask of strength fell and her tears filled, even as she vainly blinked them away. "Lex said he was talking to people that weren’t there, Jonathan. He's never...sweetie, what’s wrong with our baby?" She wiped at her face with her free hand, clearing her throat softly, and squeezed. "Because he's having sex." Martha nodded at her husband--it was okay to say it. Their child wasn’t a child anymore, even if in there hearts he'd always be a 3 year old sweetheart. "It has to be, Jonathan. I cant see any other reason for--Clark."

 

His eyes were open. He was aware that they were. Anything else was gone to him, and he watched his parents with a sort of quiet acknowledgement and blank mind. His voice, when he whispered, grated like sandpaper. "Hot."

 

Jonathan took her hand in his.  "I don't know what we're--"  He looked down.  "Clark.  Son, we know you're hot, but we're gonna get you cool in just a minute.  Lex is on the way back with sheets, and we're gonna get them in water and get you cool, okay?"

 

Lex walked in the door, but as soon as he saw Clark was awake, he dropped the sheets to the floor and ran to the bedside.  His head pounded with every step and Jonathan barely moved in time to let Lex have his spot.  "Clark?  Baby.  I'm here.  It's me."

 

Jonathan gathered the sheets, and sighed.  "I'm gonna go start these soakin', Martha."

 

Lex didn't look up.  "There's a white porcelain bathing set in there, Jonathan.  Gold trim.  Pitcher and basin.  Fill it with cold water, and bring it out here while the sheets are soaking.  I used to lay cloths on my mother's head, maybe it will work with Clark."  Sudden change from not knowing what to do to having to do something as his baby woke up.

 

He whispered softly, about nothing and no one, and turned his face away, eyes closing as the sweat clung to his curls and pasted them to his face. Whispering, mindless, before he reared up, grasping Lex by the shoulders and dragging him close. He hugged him, as hard as he could... too hard, but when he felt muscles bunch he let go, and cuddled for a minute. Pressed his wet face to Lex's cheek... fingertips stroking over the bald head... over his chest, down his arms. Fingers whisking over his crotch, down his thighs... grunting once and gathering him close again. His. And only his. "Hot."

 

He shoved Lex away very suddenly, and let out a sob. "Hot!"

 

The sudden possessive grab of Lex had terrified her, and Martha's fingers were still latched onto Lex's wrist as Clark shoved him away. "I know, Clark, its okay, daddy’s getting some cold water, okay? Just hold on, honey, hold on a second, he's coming, just stay still. Remember? Be very still, and you can hear him pouring the water."

 

Lex curled into the possessive hug, making sure not to whimper when it got tight, but oofing slightly when he was pushed away.  "It's okay, Martha.  It's okay.  He's not going to hurt me."  Lex stood up, stripped off the purple shirt that Enrique had left for him, and pulled the sheet back.  "Come on.  Help me get him out of the jeans."  He leaned down, brushing his lips across Clark's sweating cheek.  "Baby?  Clark?  Can you roll onto your side for me, just a minute?"  He was stripping to his briefs as he spoke. 

 

Jonathan was soaking the sheets as quickly as he could, and then brought the first one out.  "Here you go," he said tersely, tossing the bulky wet fabric to his wife before disappearing into the bathroom again to soak the other one.

 

She just...blinked. "Lex?" But she got to her feet immediately, tugging the blanket back as she lay the freezing cold sheet on her son's chest and back as he started to roll on his side at Lex's request. Her fingers went to her son's pants immediately, tugging at the buttons until they came undone, and tugged at his hips to get the clothe down as fast and efficient as she could.

 

He was whimpering nonstop, kicking a foot and bowing his back as he rubbed at his chest...then blissful cold, and he whimpered once more, curling into it and ducking his face so he could press an overheated cheek to the cold cloth.

 

Lex picked up the edges of the sheet, making sure that all of Clark's body was covered with the huge king-size piece of fabric before doubling it over and crawling into the bed beside him.  "Sssh... I'm here, baby."  Lex shivered violently as the cold sheet settled over him as well, and he used one of the spare corners to wipe Clark's face with.  "Here we go... we'll get you cool, just lay still."  He looked at Martha.  "I need the pitcher and the water."  He looked then up at the ceiling.  "I know you understand, Mom... thank you for letting me find him here.  You were right... this is where he needed to be.  No one will find him here."  He whispered the dialogue to his mother, and then pressed his cheek against the cold sheet covering his lover's shoulder.

 

He couldn’t stop crying. He knew where he was, he knew what was happening, and the voices were farther away then they'd been. But throughout it, he couldn’t stop crying. Just sobbing, deep male sounds as they trembled from his throat softly, his face ducking and pressing to his lovers hand. He grasped the fingers that went around his waist, tightly, holding on as he got hot and wet, and the blissful cold of the sheets began to warm. He kicked his foot again, squirming, pushing back into the cool skin behind him, then letting out another sob. "Hot, hot, make it stop, mama, its hot, its hot mama, mama."

 

"I know. I know, baby, I know." She couldn’t stop stroking her fingers through his hair as his tears brought hers to clog in her throat, lip caught between her teeth tightly. "Lex... I won’t... you know what he needs, I know you do." And she rose, walking around the bed. "Jonathan! Hurry, bring the pitcher!"

 

"I know."  Lex leaned his head down, kissing his lover's mouth softly.  "I'm here, Clark.  Sssh.  We're going to take care of you, I'm here."  He slipped his arm around Clark's waist, holding him and reassuring him.  "Oakenepel is here."

 

Jonathan swore softly as he almost tripped over the wadded sheet and reached for the pitcher.  The sheet was sitting in the tub, most of it, and he turned the sink faucet on.  The pitcher filled quickly, and he pushed it into his wife's hands.  "Here you go, honey."

 

She nodded and hurried back to Lex...and seeing them, in bed together, was shocking. She’d tell her husband later, but right now she handed the pitcher to Lex and bit her lip tightly, swallowing as hard as she could around the emotion in her throat.

 

"Oakenepel. Oakenepel, yutsh runglah feahr." Clark babbled it, desperately, shaking as he sought cold...and his temper was starting to spike as he couldn’t find it, and it wasn’t provided him. It was supposed to be provided for him, dammit! "Oiluh trenk!"

 

"Thank you," Lex said tersely.  He took the pitcher out of Martha's hand.  "It's here, Clark."  He took a deep breath and hissed as he was splashed as he poured the water over Clark, from shoulder to waist, hip to knee.  "You have it, aushna'."

 

The cold water hit him, and he was so relieved, his body so thankful, that it shut down, and he passed out before it was finished being poured on him.

 

She bit her lip hard, leaning over Lex and gently filming the cold water of Clarks legs and his face, tenderly wiping it over his eyes and away from his neck, like she remembered he liked it. He was gone, passed out again, but the look in his eyes and the sudden need for cold water had relieved her and worried her both. Clark had never been so desperate for cold water...but at the same time, he'd never lasted with the fever for so long. But now, that he was gone, and his body was completely loose... she knew. "Lex, its breaking."

 

 "Is that good, or bad?  Hurry, help me peel this off of him and we can switch these out while he's out."  Lex started rolling the warm sheet down, trickling the dregs from the pitcher onto his body to keep him cool while they changed sheets.

 

Jonathan had heard his son's snarling and was halfway out of the bathroom with the sheet when he froze in place.  Lex... in bed.  With Clark.  Both all but naked, boxers and briefs no protection against the water that made both paper thin.  "M--Martha."

 

She just shook her head, eyes swerving to Jonathans as she leaned over and grasped his hand. She knew. She knew, and she understood, just as she knew and understood her husband was going to have a mental breakdown. "Shh. Jonathan, I know." And she shook her head just a little, stilling Lex's fingers with a single touch of her palm. "No...hunny, feel him. Its broken. Its about to start...the fever's gone." She laced her fingers with Lex's and brought both her hand and his to Clarks forehead... which, despite being wet, was already half as hot as it had been.

 

"What's about to start?" he asked softly, pressing his lips to the cooling skin of his beloved.  The bitterness he'd tasted before in Clark's kiss seemed to be oozing from his skin.  "Martha, I need to know what's going to happen next."  He was still shivering, and he moved closer to Clark's feverish body, soaking the fever-heat into himself.  "I need to know what's going to happen to my love."

 

She sat behind him on the bed...carefully glancing at Jonathan before her attention went to the boy who'd just spoken to her. "Clark’s going to molt. Don’t be frightened, Lex...it doesn’t hurt him. The fever is the worst of it, actually. He's going to be temperamental and a little moody for a few days... but that’s just the hormones that are needed to get rid of the molt once its started. Be gentle with him. He's going to...." She couldn’t help it--she chuckled. "He's going to act like a pregnant woman. Yelling one minute, weeping the next, and generally feeling sorry for himself. Indulge him...it lasts for about two days, and once its over, its over. Okay?"

 

Lex looked down and laced his fingers through Clark's.  "Indulging him.  I can definitely do that."  He ran his fingers through the thick mass of dark, wavy hair.  "This is going to be a strange question, but... how, exactly, does it happen?  Does it happen all at once, will he shed pieces of it, is it like a snakeskin?  I need to know.  Please.  How often does he... molt?"

 

Jonathan nodded curtly and took the wet sheet back into the bathroom, putting it in the tub and starting to mop up the water.

 

"Once a year, sweetie. Or, well, when he was ten we thought he didn’t, but that’s when he got his super speed and it came off while he was running to Nebraska." She couldn’t help the chuckle in her voice at that, and gently touched his hand. "It varies. Sometimes it a single time, sometimes its not. If it comes off in a single piece, expect him to hide somewhere in the house and not come out for two days. He did that when he was 14, and he refused to move from the coat closet until it was gone. If its in pieces..." She winced. "You'll be finding it for weeks."

 

Lex tightened his grip on his lover's hand.  "He won't hide from me, Martha... I won't let him.  I'm not afraid of it, it doesn't disgust me; in fact, I'm rather fascinated by it, though believe me, I intend to do nothing about it.  I wouldn't do anything to hurt Clark."  He moved closer to his lover so that he could use their linked fingers to pull Clark's arm around his waist.  "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, this must be disturbing to you, but... I feel better when I'm close to him, and I don't want him to wake up alone."

 

"I’m not disturbed." Alright, freaked out, yes, because her baby was in bed with her half naked... other baby, and yeah, it was disturbing, but not really. Not in her mind. Two boys she loved dearly, and she could deal. So Martha just climbed to her feet, touched his cheek, and gently pulled the blanket up over Lex, keeping it off Clark until he was ready for it. "Get some sleep, sweetie. The both of you deserve it. If you need anything, Jonathan and I are at the farm, okay?"

 

Lex nodded.  "I'll call you as soon as he wakes up."  He sighed softly as Martha touched his cheek, and then curled close to his beloved, tucking himself as close to Clark as he could get.  "Thank you, Martha.  For everything."

 

"Anytime, sweetie. And I mean that." But she turned and left them, snagging Jonathan as he stepped back out of the bathroom, and simply pulled him along.

 

"Martha--" he started, but she pulled him along after her.  He barely had a chance to close the door behind them.  "Martha!"

 

"No, Jonathan. No." And she tugged him with her down the hall and towards the lovely steps waiting for them, a little smile tugging at her lips softly.

 

"You're--you're going to leave those two... alone... in bed... together?"

 

"Where would you like to leave them?"

 

"Well, not in bed together would be a good start!!"  Jonathan was all but sputtering as Martha tugged him down the stairs.

 

Ice cream, again. Only this time the taste was very real, very cold, and Clarks lips curved as in dreams, he shared the vanilla with his lover. Wonderful, lying on a beach, sharing an ice cream cone and laughing.

 

Peace.

 

Lex... was dreaming about ice cream.  Strange, because he hadn't eaten it in years, but he was eating ice cream.  With Clark.  Very strange.  But he didn't question it, merely snuggled closer to his lover.

 

The waves crashed at their toes...a beautiful little girl with blond ringlets and dark chocolate eyes danced and squealed in the waves without any clothes on. Behind her, a distinct accented voice called for her to be careful...and then in front of them, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, Dominic was rushing through the water, laughing and hoisting the child up in his arms.

 

The ice cream tasted so good. Like fresh, clean water and sand and sunshine and giggling and sun block. Like cozy nights and fun days...like family.

 

And Clark, as he dreamt, could do nothing but grin. Giggle, softly, and curl closer… watching this great treasure rolling in front of his eyes.  

 

Lex watched a young blond girl that looked disturbingly like Dominic run around twirling, laughing, and then he snuggled beside his lover as he took another lick of ice cream.

 

It was a beautiful dream.

 

"Jonathan, sweetie." She turned to her husband, grasped his shoulders, and looked at him in the eye. "Clark and Lex are in love. They’re having sex, they’re kissing, they’re holding one another, and they’re soul mates on a level you and I don’t understand. Baby... its okay. I promise you, its okay."

 

"It's... it's... It's... it's not okay!"  And then he sighed.  "This is that whole 'he's not a little boy thing' rearing up again, isn't it?"

 

 

    

-fin-

 

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