Friday, March 25, 2005

Healing

Title: Healing (sequel to Whipping boy)
Genre: Clex, Angst, PG 13, Sacrifice, Brucie brooding, Hurt and comfort
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they wouldn’t have to get hurt to touch each other.
Summary: Bruce help’s Lex unfold enough to accept Clark’s sacrifice.

Bruce understood why, Lex, who had never believed in his own worth –at all – had needed to see the DVD drawn from the castles security cameras (to finally exorcise his suspicion of Clark) and hear his next comment… to understand finally when actions spoke volumes louder than words… that someone believed he was worth the sacrifice.

“Lex, in Clark’s sent mail folder, there were 26 messages agreeing to [Lionel’s sessions] on different dates, and others that appear to agreeing to multiple [sessions] on the same day.” Lex’s heart finally broke – releasing the shards of its icy shell in a multitude of tears (Whipping Boy).

Healing

Lex’s tears slowly soaked into Bruce’s jacket and dried before he found the strength to lift his head. Staring bleakly out the window, Lex asked in a roughened voice, “How could he? Go through that… again and again? Why?”

Chucking a bent finger beneath Lex’s chin, Bruce forced his Lex to look in his eyes, warning harshly, “Don’t. You know why he did this. You know why he went back, again and again. Don’t kid yourself, and don’t reduce what he did because you are afraid of what that may mean for you.”

Lex struggled to look away, but Bruce was uncompromising, “I know that it scares the hell out of you to admit that someone could care enough about you to go through the worst your father can dish out. But, that boy does and you’re going to have to face that head on. If you want him, you better step up to the plate and prevent this from happening again. If you don’t, then let him know, so that he doesn’t give himself over the old man for the wrong reasons. After what he’s done, you owe him that much.”

“No,” Lex answered, “He doesn’t care about me…” Lex put his hand up to forestall his quickly flare of anger from his friend, as he finished “He doesn’t … just… care about me, does he?”

Bruce snorted, “Finally catching on? No, I’d wager that he more than cares for you.”

Lex nodded slowly finding it all too much to take and finally remembered something Bruce had said earlier. “You said he wouldn’t let you check him earlier? Why? After the Kryptonite was removed, he should have recovered quickly shouldn’t he have? He knows you know that.”

“That’s just it. He was still bleeding when I left, and he can’t talk.”

“What?”

“Lex, his screaming … fairly shredded his throat. Alfred suspects that the proximity to kryptonite over so many sessions… may have diminished or shut down his immunity so that he’s not healing as he normally would. ”

“He’s not healing? Oh God, Bruce, I have to go.” Lex started to jump out of the limo, but Bruce’s superior strength held the distraught man in place.

“I’m driving. He saved you from one trip over the bridge. Let’s not take chances when he’s not up to pulling you out a second time… okay.”

Lex nodded numbly. Clark was hurt. He wasn’t healing. He couldn’t talk… from screaming. And, he had let Lionel do all of it to him because he wanted to protect Lex. Stripping his driving gloves off, Lex almost dislocated a knuckle as he wrung his hands nervously. Finally, Bruce reached up and flipped down one of the visors, dropping a thin pack of origami paper directly into Lex’s lap.

Sighing harshly as he stared down at the paper, Lex reminded Bruce sharply, “I don’t do that any more. It gives away too many emotions.”

“Well. It’s probably a good time to pick it up, again. Beside that, I would imagine that you’re farm boy would probably appreciate seeing something delicate and pretty right now. Don’t you.”

Lex complacently pulled out a sheet of the paper and carefully creased the small square in half as he tried to decide what figure might entrance Clark the most. By the time, Bruce pulled into the castle’s long driveway, Lex had close to thirty pieces spread across the limo’s dash board. Eyeing them uncertainly, he asked, “Which do you think he might like the best?”

Bruce looked them over carefully, admiring Lex’s crisp edges and careful designs, but shook his head as he reached across and opened the glove compartment to pull out several sheets of delicate hand-painted silk paper. “There all good, but considering the shape he’s in I think something a little more delicate might be in order.”

“Why didn’t you give me those in the first place?” Lex growled, wanting to snatch the paper out of Bruce’s hand.

“Before, I knew you wouldn’t just mangle it? Right.”

“Which one, then?”

“What about the eagle?”

“But, I didn’t…” Lex paused remembering the eagle that he had made for Bruce just before Bruce had graduated. “You don’t mind?”

“A little,” Bruce smirked, admitting to his lingering jealousy, “but, I think he’s earned it.”

Lex’s eyes flashed bright with unspoken emotion, memories, and gratitude, “Thank you.”

“Get to it.” The older man growled ending their moment of nostalgia. “We’re almost there…” but out of the corner of his eye, Bruce watched Lex’s lithe fingers begin the complicated creases and smiled when he realized that Lex was changing the eagle slightly making it a harlequin pattern and in doing so making it smaller. His eagle, the one Bruce still kept in the safe where even Richard had not seen it, would remain unique. As Bruce shut the ignition off and looked over, Lex was making the final tuck and holding the delicate bird up for examination.

“What do you think?” Lex’s voice sounded tentative.

“Exquisite.” After so many years, it amused Bruce to realize that Lex’s desire for his approval still mattered. “That’s bound to take his mind off of things.”

Brought back to the present by the last quiet growl the limo’s engine quieted (somehow everything Bruce owned growled), Lex grabbed for the door handle and jumped out. Watching him from behind, Bruce was amazed to see how lightly Lex cupped the eagle in his palm without losing it as he raced up the walkway, took the stairs two at a time, and ran through the doorway that Alfred had barely the chance to open for him. Not for the first time, Bruce tried to imagine Lex costumed in robins red, sunshine yellow, and ivy green. No, it didn’t work… and not just because of the shining pate, Lex was too much like Bruce, made for midnight black leather and steel… Between the two of them, there had never been enough light to grow on.

Glancing up at one of the windows in the high tower, where he knew Lex’s light source lay, Bruce wondered with a smirk what Lex would look like in plaid flannel, white t-shirts, and dusty blue jeans. It was a look, but Bruce realized that Clark was probably the one who would be changing to compliment Lex’s shadows—it was already happening.

Bruce hoped Clark had enough light left for both of them to heal.

***

For the first time, Lex hesitated outside any doorway — afraid to go in.

Unconsciously, he scuffed his shoe against the carpet, unaware that he had picked up the gesture from the young man who lay impossibly fragile on the bed barely ten feet away. The boy’s hand had lay softly across his mother’s as she gently dabbed away more blood from the spray of cuts and gashes that mottled his skin. Looking up, she noticed Lex and glanced back to Clark who should have noticed… should have heard Lex approaching. It’s one more thing to fear… one more injury to the silent boy who flinched every time his mother’s hand drew near.

Finally remembering the eagle he’d made, Lex focused on it. Making it the most important task… enabled him to move his feet. Staring at it meant he could look away from the blood that should never have marred Clark’s once golden skin. He felt ridiculous and childish for being unable to even look at the person who had suffered so much for him… but he couldn’t. Looking at the welts on Clark’s outstretched hand made him feel as helpless as when he was at his mother’s bedside watching her suffer through the ravages of cancer.

Reaching the bed, Lex stared at the fragile paper construction before offering it to Clark. Despite his attempts to appear composed, his fingers trembled as he set the frail paper form in Clark’s outstretched hand.

“I…” Lex’s voice broke, “made…this…for you.”

7 Comments:

Anonymous ender said...

WoW, I am really happy to follow your link from your story at SSA to your blog! so many more stories!! you are really good at TC!! hope you will continue your WIP story

11:30 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

lovely! I hope that you continue this, it's so sorrowsweet, and well written.

11:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

YOU HAVE TO WRIGHT MORE - This is so heart wrenching .... I need MORE!

12:47 AM  
Anonymous Christine said...

Please.. I'm dying for you to write more on ALL of your stories!

8:14 PM  
Anonymous Testimony said...

Well hello there Diane, I was just searching for some ideas on New Testament when I happened on to your Blog. Although Healing isn’t quite what I was looking for, it was for more information on New Testament. You’ve still got a great Blog here. You are most welcomed to visit my site at New Testament

4:52 PM  
Anonymous Faith said...

Hi Diane I’ve been looking for related blogs and I came across yours on Healing during my trawl, so I thought it would be polite to let you know about my visit. You are most welcome to come and visit me at . I would also be happy to trade links with you if you are interested. Bye for now and have a nice day! Brother Roy.

3:36 PM  
Anonymous Kaimore said...

This is VERY good. I love the oragomi part. It kinda shows how fragile Lex really is.

7:41 PM  

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