The Memoirs

The morning of Clark’s seventeenth birthday started just like every other morning. It was a bitterly cold morning, late January, though the day would warm up to a balmy fifty before the sun set again. He was silent, completely quiet as he slipped from warm sheets, took a shower in a bathroom he didn’t really know yet, and slipped into snug jeans and a warm sweater under his coat.

He dropped a tender kiss on Lex's head and crouched in front of the small doggie bed beside the footboard, which now housed three cozily snuggled puppies. Clark kissed each one, gently, and rose, slipping his ancient wallet in his jeans before fastening his watch on. The face plate was marred and scratched, but it had been his grandfathers watch, and he loved it dearly. Another glance back at the bed, and Clark slipped from the bedroom and into the hall.

Lex stretched in the bed but didn't wake up, but was definitely aware that his lover was awake and moving around. His arms were empty and the bed beside him was warm but growing cold, and instead, Lex snagged Clark's pillow to curl up around.

Samson yawned, blinked, wormed his way out from under his brother and sister, and stretched as he padded down the hall behind Clark.

Clark stopped when he heard the little puppy yawns and slopping tongue, glancing back at the tiny guy in the near dark. "Mornin, Sammy." Clark whispered, making a shhh motion before glancing back into the hall. "This used to be so much easier when I had my powers." He whispered again, a low mutter as he picked his way carefully through the hall and down the steps.

"Bawr!" he yipped, and then dropped his head when Clark shushed him. Instead, he picked up his pace and humped down the steps beside his master.

Clark stopped at the foot of the steps, pulling his coat on tighter around him as he grabbed his book bag, slipping it on over one shoulder.

Automatic. There was no thought in these motions... he'd been doing it for months already, and he just simply did. There was a peace in monotony, to lose yourself in the everyday and the mundane. And in it, Clark took what he could, dropping down to pick up Samson, fat little guy that he was becoming, and walked out into the garage.

Ignored every car but for the red Ferrari that he'd driven many times before, and he got the keys from the small wall panel, opening the car and gently dropping Samson on the passenger seat. He slipped into the drivers, opening the bottom pouch of his backpack to take out Samson’s tiny winter gear... a yellow scarf, matching hat, and tiny mittens. Clark reached over and picked his baby up, setting him in his lap to get him all dressed.

And when he was done he set him back on the passenger seat, made sure he'd be safe, and started the car.

Samson gnawed at the little yellow mittens on his back feet for a few minutes, and when they didn't come off, he settled for putting his front feet on Clark's leg and nosing under his elbow, wagging his tail. "Bawr?" He looked back at the house, and then down at the empty seat in the car.

"Mmmm." Clark murmured, revving the car and pushing the garage button. The door rose and Clark pulled the car out of park, shifting gears and getting it out onto the road. The sky was gray... almost black, intense and hideous. Clark ignored it, getting the windshield wipers going as the drizzle coated the glass, and turned the heat up. He was always so cold now, it seemed.

The rain, and his own tears, blurred the road as he quietly drove to meet his friends.

~*~*~

Poke. Poke. Poke. Slurp. Poke.

Chloe's egg McMuffin was leaving much to be desired. It was... flat, stale, grimy. She was not pleased.

Whitney sat at her very fashionable elbow, Pete and Shayla in front of her. She just... wanted to go back to bed, and forget this day was happening. She was tired, achy, sleepy, and depressed. Her screaming hadn’t helped... Whitney still looked like someone had run him over with a Mack truck.

Life sucked.

Whitney's hand wrapped tightly around his girlfriend's, squeezing her fingers gently and leaning his cheek against her shoulder. He just... wanted to sleep for about a month until this all disappeared.

Shayla was squeezed in next to Pete, and she frowned into her orange juice. She just... hated seeing her best friend so sad, and hated even more that she couldn't tell Pete. Just despised it. But she scrunched up close to him, tight as she could, and held on.

And Pete sort of stared. The only other time he remembered the atmosphere being like this was when Lana died. Chloe wouldn’t eat, Whitney stared into space, and Clark brooded darkly. Except Clark wasn’t here... or, well, now was. He had a tiny, yellow covered puppy under his arm, and his face was pleasant, even smiling.

Strange.

Chloe swallowed silently... then shot her head up when Clark entered. Mountainous as ever, she offered him a relieved, tiny smile, squeezing Whitney’s hand hard. "Hi, Clark."

Whitney scooted around the table so that he was sandwiched in between Chloe and Pete, and pulled Chloe with him. "C'mon, man. Sit down. Got pancakes and hash browns for you, and Chloe even got you juice."

"Hi, guys." Clark said softly, smiling at Shayla and Pete a little bit as he sat down. "I brought someone... Samson didn’t want to stay home." Clark nodded at them, staying a little bit away as he sat and smiled his thank you. "That was nice, guys. Thanks." Clark set the puppy down beside him, and gently fed him a little bit of the hash browns.

"Hey." Pete said quietly. Even now pride was fierce, even though he didn’t fucking know what was going on, and he just sort of nodded, sipping from his orange juice.

Samson curled up on Clark's leg and chewed noisily on the bit of hash brown that Clark fed him. Heaving loud puppy sighs, he put his head on the table and looked soulfully around at all the long faces. Man, this was not of the good.

Shayla just scrunched closer to Pete, and smiled at Clark when he sat down. "Hey, Clark. How's it goin'?"

"Alright." Clark said, feeding Samson another piece as he sipped juice into a belly made of lead. "What’s up? Why the mood, guys?"

Chloe glanced up at him, over Samson's little yellow hat, and stared. Why the mood? Why the MOOD? She stared at him, juice in hand and half raised to her mouth as she turned to stare.

Shayla was trying hard not to gape at Clark, and she transferred the questioning look to Chloe, who was in turn, staring at Clark like she couldn't believe anything.

Whitney turned his head and studied Clark for a very long moment, then turned quietly back to his breakfast and kept eating. The sadness wasn't gone, just... well hidden.

Clark just sort of shrugged at her, sending her another smile as he slipped Samson a bit of the sausage, tearing it into tiny enough pieces so his baby could chew them. His visage was strong, his face carefully cheerful, and he shrugged an amply large shoulder as he took another sip of juice and moved the fork on his plate a little. "Did I miss anything intense?" He met eyes with Whitney for a split moment, his blank wall up around his heart as he looked at the others.

Samson let out a little squeal as the sausage was passed down to him, and he scarfed it, barely taking the time to chew it as he nipped the next piece of out of Clark's fingers.

Whitney shook his head. "Nah, man, nothing intense. We're just waitin' for your slow ass so we can get to school." Brief flash of a smile.

"Yeah, slow." Clark smiled back, nodding a little as he apologized to God and on the sly fed his little baby a bit more of the sausage, as he seemed to enjoy it, hoping his guy didn’t get a tummy ache as he nibbled a little at some toast. His stomach outright rejected it, but he had to keep up the act. And he smiled. "Prolly gonna have a shitload of homework, you know."

Shayla perked up at that. "I can help you with the homework, Clark. I kick mine out in like, half an hour. I can help you kick yours out, cause half this shit, we already covered in Vancouver, so... you know, I'm available and I won't even charge."

"Chargelessness is nice." Softly, though he smiled again and rubbed his fingers clean on a napkin. "I might have a job lined up with Nell, so if you charged I wouldn’t mind."

Pete was uncharacteristically silent, snuggled close with Shayla. He was watching everything carefully, for any clue as to what was going on. The attention was centered on Clark… and he watched his other three friends talking to him like they were walking on pins and needles.

And he cursed. "You know, fuck ya'll."

Shayla jumped. A foot. "What?"

"Fuck. Ya'll. Somethin' is going on here, something big, and the three of you, FOUR of you are pretendin' it ain’t there. I’m not cool with that." Pete nodded it, like he were talking about the Dodgers, easy and conversational. "So one of ya'll better come clean."

Clark shrugged his mountainous shoulder again, and snuggled Samson close, reaching down to kiss his little head. "Nothings going on. I'm gonna go...get Samson home. I'll meet you guys for lunch."

Samson snuggled against Clark. He didn't whine, cause he knew he wasn't supposed to be in the food place with the rest of the people, but he didn't want to be left behind. He wanted to stay with the Clark. The Clark needed him! He gave a little sigh and looked up at the Clark with sad, sad little lonely brown eyes.

Whitney looked up at Pete. "Pete... ain't nothin', okay? Just... rough week, that's all, with Clark being sick and everything."

Shayla nodded. "Yeah, remember? Told you he looked like he was about to throw up the other day when he left school early? We're just worried about him."

Oh. Clark lifted his baby and snuggled him to his chest. All those sad eyes and yellow booties and little yellow scarf and all those floppy ears. His little precious baby, and he hugged him gently.

"Whatever." Being left out, being the odd man out. Like always. And Pete hated it. But he wasn’t baby enough to walk up and stomp out again, so he just sat there in silence.

"Rough week, definitely. Oh, but hey guys, I’m not pregnant. So that’s a plus." Chloe stopped. The stupidest words ever had just come out of her mouth and she winced, deeply in her heart, and shot a look at Clark.

Clark was silent, ignoring them, Chloe's words in his ears and tears in his throat, as he carefully paid attention to Sammy’s little fur.

Samson licked Clark's cheek as he was cuddled close, and he heaved a puppy sigh and pawed gently at Clark's shoulder. He licked all over, and then dropped his head onto his little yellow-covered paws.

Whitney winced inwardly, but didn't say anything. There just... wasn't anything TO say that wouldn't rub salt in some very open wounds. "Chloe... open mouth, swallow foot," he murmured into her hair.

Shayla just blinked. "Well... yeah. Always a plus, because you know... sometimes things happen you're just not... you know, ready for."

Clark rubbed one huge palm over Samson’s little head, over his belly, and smiled gently. "Its okay, ashik-...Chloe. You don’t have to be uncomfortable." Clark turned his gaze at Pete, and studied him for a long moment. "You hate me. Why do you want to know?"

So there WAS something going on. Fuck. "Because its affecting the rest of my friends." Pete glared.

"You know, Pete, as much as I care for you, you're a small minded ass. And I just don’t think you could take what I have to say."

"Man, fuck you. If I can handle you being queer as hell, then I can handle whatever you've got to say."

The words stung. But Clark gazed up at him, steadily. "It seems to me that I’m not the only queer one sitting at this table."

Oh. God, Chloe could cut in without the fight escalating. And fix the foot in mouthitis. She raised a hand, eagerly. "Oh, I’m there. Making out with Shay. Plus."

Whitney raised his hand. "Me and Sean Kelvin, right here."

Shayla glared at Clark. "Clark Kent... you apologize to Pete right now!!"

"That’s not what I meant, Clark." Pete turned a glare at Chloe and Whitney, before back at Clark. "And you know it."

"I know." Clark said easily, before he rose to his feet. He went into his wallet, took out two dollars, and set them beside the plate he'd fed mostly to Samson. He glanced at Shayla before... just turning, and leaving the restaurant.

Shayla looked after him as Clark left. "Um... since when does Clark drive a Ferrari?"

Whitney just shook his head and looked at Pete. "Just wanted to keep you from sayin' something you shouldn't, that's all."

~*~

No friend was worth the aggravation. And so Clark was thinking as he parked the Ferrari in the front of the building, lifting Samson in his arms and snuggling him close as he cut the engine, pulled the keys, and climbed from the little car. If friendship with Pete meant putting up with his temper tantrums, then Clark was too tired to be friends with him. And so ended a 13 year friendship. Sad.

He lifted Samson a little closer, tucking a nervous little puppy butt under his arm, and opened the mansion door. Everything was still quiet, though Dominic’s constantly playing classical music gave the air a comfy, homey feeling. He leaned down and set Samson down as he closed the door behind him and set Lex's keys in his pocket as he walked in.

Samson stayed close to the Clark, standing almost on the Clark's feet as they walked into the house. "Ooooooooooooooooooo," he howled out softly and sadly.

"Aweereeee?" A teeny tiny face peaked out of the kitchen door down the hall, backed up, and that tiny head head-butted the door open. Cleo humped out, head proudly raised, with a feregumo in her mouth. The big smellies with all the hair. Hairy big smellie! He had tasty shoes and she munched cheerfully, bopping forward to share... except the Sammy was crying?! She dropped the shoe in front of him, and proceeded to lick at the Sammy's face, sniffling softly and huffing, licking some more.

Clark stepped around the babies and walked into the kitchen, glancing about once before spotting Ms. Bird. "Ms. Bird...hi."

Samson licked Cleo's face again, crying softly as the Clark left him behind. He put his head down on the shoe and cried softly.

"Goot morning," she said cheerfully. "Vould you like somethink to drink? Ve haf... I tink chur friend bought out the store's supply of orange juice, if chu vant some."

Clark nodded, just a little, though he heard his baby crying, and swallowed the sob that wrenched up in his throat. He turned and walked out of the kitchen quickly, reaching down to lift his baby in his arms again. Oh, God, and he was crying little puppy tears and Clark rubbed his face on the tiny head, holding him snuggly and close. "S-shh...shh, baby, I’m here." He whispered into the soft fur, kissing his head and gently snuggling him as he walked back to the kitchen, Cleo following. "S....sorry, Ms. Bird. Samson was crying."

"It's okey," she said. "If chu vant, Herr Lionel and Domenick are sitting in the dining room. Chu can vait vith them and I vill brink chur juice dere."

Samson put his head on Clark's shoulder and sighed, licking the Clark's throat and cheek. Thank you, this is where he belonged, making the Clark happy.

Clark controlled the lump in his throat, nodding. "Okay. I'll be there." He turned, feeling robotic, limp and strange, and walked out of the kitchen numbly. He followed his feet towards the dining room, the soft red carpet turning golden and beautiful under his feet as he opened the door and stepped in.

Coooooooofffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Coooooooofffffeeeeeeeeee. Dominic had drunk two cups and he was still half asleep. Last night had been... outrageous, and if he thought, he could still feel Lionel’s orgasm on his face. Very, very nice.

Except the part where right now he was hanging over his coffee like he was hung over, dying for a cigarette with the internet open in front of him. Not that he was paying ANY attention to his laptop, cheek on his hand.

His pajamas were so cozy.

Lionel was, as always, wide awake and drinking coffee, but when he heard Clark come into the room, he tucked his newspaper back under his plate. "Good morning, Clark. I'm glad to see you up and about. Have a seat, have a bite of breakfast with us."

Clark shook his head gently but sat down anyway. "I’m only here for a second. I’ve got to go... I'll be late for school." He said softly.

"'lo Clark." Dominic said, offering him a gentle smile before laying his cheek down. Yes. Little nap? Yep.

Lionel raised an eyebrow, and kicked his lover gently under the table. "Clark? Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Ms. Bird came into the dining room then, holding out the cordless phone. "Clark? It is for chu."

What? Clark took the phone from the older woman, gazing at Lionel a moment before setting the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"

Dominic gave a cheerful little snore and snuggled into his arms.

"Clark?" Nell's voice sounded harried on the end of the line. "I'm glad I caught you before school. You still interested in the job here at the Talon?"

Oh. God. Clarks eyes widened and he shifted in his seat, taking the juice Ms. Bird had given him and swallowing. "I....yes, ma'am." Clark said softly, then swallowed, repeating it a little louder. "Yes, ma'am, I am."

"Good!! Then you're hired. Can you start this afternoon? My other girl quit, and I really need someone to take the afternoon shift for her." Nell covered the mouthpiece and shouted muffled instructions to one of the deliverymen in the Talon and then brought the phone back to her mouth. "I'll pay you extra for starting on such short notice; I'll make it $6.25 an hour instead of $5.75."

Working. School, work, Lex. It was too much, just too much, toomuchtoomuchtoomuch. But he wanted to make his father proud, both of them. And if working and going to school and becoming a man was what it took, he'd do it. He'd make Lex proud of him, for working what he wanted. Even if he desperately wanted to hide. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be there whenever you need me. I get out of school at three... anytime after that is definitely okay."

"Three thirty would be really great, but the shift won't start until four." There was a clatter in the background, and Nell muffled a curse. "I've got to go. Clark, thank you. I'll see you this afternoon." She hung up in mid-shout.

Clark held the phone for a long moment afterwards... and gently clicked the off button, setting it down as he looked up at Lionel. "I got a job."

Lionel gave him a small smile, though his eyes were worried. "Clark... I know that I'm not your father, but don't you think that perhaps... you're taking things a little too quickly?"

He shrugged a shoulder absently, setting the phone down as Dominic gave a sigh in front of him. Clark pulled a leg up and set his ankle over his knee, drinking some of his juice. "No. I can handle it."

Lionel gazed at the young boy across the table. "You know your own limitations," is all he said, though in the back of his mind, Lionel knew this was not a good idea. "Where will you be working?"

"The Talon. Lana's aunt, Nell? She offered me a job slinging coffee for a few hours every night." Clark said quietly, tracing his fingertip over the design on the glass. "I think it'd be good. I want to get out on my own, do my own thing. I want...to buy a car." Clark looked up at that, shyly, just a little. "My car. From money I make."

"Good man," Lionel said, picking his newspaper back up, though not blocking his view of Clark. "I don't blame you at all for wanting to make your own way and be your own man. Lex has been doing that all of his life, and look where he's ended up. You'll go far with that attitude, Clark."

I want to go as far as my bed. "Maybe." No drive, no drive, and bed sounded so good. It was by a thin thread that he was keeping himself from it, and he swallowed a little. "Mr. Luthor? Could you do something for me today?"

"You don't have to call me Mr. Luthor, Clark. Call me Lionel, please." He put the paper back down, and looked at the young man his son loved. "I will do anything within my power."

"Make sure he's okay, okay? Take care of him. Lex..." Clark swallowed and sighed. "He gets a little closed off sometimes. I know he's hurting, but he'll never really admit it. Just... take care of him, kay?"

Lionel looked at the young man frankly, treating him like the adult this tragedy had turned him into, at least in Lionel's eyes. "My son isn't the one that I'm worried about, Clark."

A soft shrug. "You should. Lex gets quiet and reserved and internal, you know? Even before we began dating, he did it." Sudden thought. "You know, Mr.--..Lionel? Lex and I have never been on a date. We saw one another, slept together, and kind of didn’t ever go out on a date. You think he'd be mad if I took him to a movie and dinner? Prolly bitch the whole time... though I know he'd have fun."

"Then I think you should go out on a date, the both of you. It sounds like something you'd both enjoy." He didn't blink for a moment. "Lex is, I am sad to say, in Bruce Wayne's capable hands, as he doesn't listen to me for anything. You, my boy, are my concern."

Bruce. The stab of hot jealousy was unwarranted, but Clark hid it well, instead smiling and nodding. "Bruce will take care of him...he's good at taking care of people. I know Lex will be alright with him." A hard little swallow, as he took a sip of his drink. "I'll ask him, tonight. Is he awake already?"

"He's still sleeping, which is unusual at best." Lionel consulted his watch. "If he's not awake himself in a half hour, I will go and wake him."

"Okay." Clark rose at that, taking a final sip of juice as he tucked his chair back in. "Tell Dominic I said hello, okay? And are we still on for our fencing this afternoon, sir?"

"Of course we are." But then he did a double take. "Clark, you're not well enough, are you? Nor are you in possession of your special... talents, or has that changed?"

"I am. My...." Space ship healed me, and then my dad came out and talked to me? "back is feeling much better. It healed itself... There’s just a scar left, now." A slight shake of his head. "No, Lex still has them." And that was all he said, nodding again. "I'll be home tonight. See you later, Lionel."

"Do you have a cellular phone?" Lionel asked.

"Uh...oh, yes. In my back pack, Lex gave it to me." Clark nodded.

"Then I expect to hear from you before you go to work. If I don't hear from you, I will send Lex to intercept you."

"Okay." A crooked smile. "Thank you, Lionel."

"You're welcome, my boy." Lionel raised his newspaper again. "Have a good day, Clark, and don't overtax yourself too soon."

"Bye." He left the dining room, Dominic’s soft snores following him, out into the main hall. Samson was still in arm, though the little guy was sleeping, and Clark gently walked up the steps. He was going to deposit the little baby in his bed, and get to school.

He walked up the steps... past their old bedroom, and down the hall to their new one.

The sadness was overwhelming, and he stopped in the hall to drag in a calming breath, palm flat on the wall.

Lex stirred in the bedroom, the sound of footsteps and a breath being sucked in deeply disturbing his sleep and waking him up. He came the rest of the way awake when he realized he was alone in bed, and puppyless to boot. "Clark?"

Clark’s head snapped up and he swallowed, plastering on a smile as he walked back into the bedroom, the dark gray sky not even making the room bright as he walked in. He gently crouched and set Samson on his little fluffy bed, busying himself with it. "Its me. Go back to sleep, baby."

"What time is it?" Lex stretched. "What are you doing up?" Lex squinted. "And dressed?"

"I’ve been up for a while, baby." Clark said quietly. "It's almost eight... I’m on my way to school." Clark finished tucking the blankets around Samson’s snoring little body and rose again, to gently sit on the edge of their bed. Foreign and different. "I got a job."

"What?" Lex pushed himself to sit upright. "What? School? Job? Clark, it's early. I just woke up. Humor me and walk me through it."

A soft chuckle, and Clark didn’t think Mr. Rubenstein, Calc teacher, would mind his being late. "School. Me, going to school. Job. I got one with Ms. Nell... she offered it to me, and I'll be working a couple of hours after class. I hope you don’t mind."

"There's no way you can go to class, Clark!" Lex shook the sleep out of his head.

"I have to." Clark nodded, gently. "Class has been back a week, and I’ve missed three of the four days. My GPA can’t handle it, babe." Quiet nod.

"Clark, you've got more of a brain for that shit than I ever did." Lex put his head on his knees. "You've got to be joking."

"I’m not joking." He said it swiftly, rising up as he pulled his jacket on a little closer. "I'll be back tonight, about six thirty or so, okay?"

"Clark, don't go."

Clark shook his head a little bit, swallowing. He was poised at the door, one palm up on the side of the door frame, and he glanced over his shoulder at his lover. "If I stay here, with you down in the lab, I'll die."

"Then I won't work down there for a while. You’re just... neither of us is ready to face the world yet, Clark. We can barely deal with our family."

A shrugged shoulder again. "I need to get back into my life. I need to make you proud of me. I need to make my parents, all the ones I have, proud of me. And being strong is what’s going to do it. So just... respect that I have to do this, please."

"I am proud of you, Clark." But Lex bit his tongue on the rest of it. "I... okay. If you say you have to do it... I respect that."

"But you're angry at me for doing it." Clark said quietly, turning to look at him.

"I'm just worried. I'm not angry." And he really wasn't. "And I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"Because. I don't want you to have to deal with hiding this on top of everything else you deal with hiding on a regular basis. And if you're working too... Christ, Clark."

"I can’t sit at home and cry, Lex." He said again, quietly, fingers going in his pockets as he turned back to his lover. He sat down gently on the side of the bed, gazing at him. "I can't stay home and let myself die. For that, I could have finished the ritual of death and followed Mar-El. I’m doing this, Lex, for you. But for me, too."

Lex reached out and ran his fingers over a stubbly jaw. "I'd rather you cried at home than pretended you weren't sad." He cupped Clark's face in his hand, and kissed his other cheek gently.

Clark’s chin trembled as he kissed back, cupping the strong hand in his own softer ones. "I can't miss any more school. I can't sit around here and wallow in this pain. I h...have to go out and do stuff, get my mind into other things. Okay?"

"Promise me one thing." Lex squeezed Clark's hands carefully. "Promise me that you'll call me if there's trouble. You won't push yourself, you'll just... call me. I'll come get you."

"I won’t call. I won’t need you to come get me, Lex." Clark straightened a little, in pride. "I'll be okay." But he reached forward, and wrapped his arms around Lex's chest and hugged him, hard. "I love you. Thank you."

"I love you, Clark." He hugged Clark back tightly. Their link had been used and abused, and Lex made sure that what was left was firmly anchored. "I'll call you if I need you."

"Okay." Clark said softly, gently letting go as he rose. And paused. He didn’t want to go, God knew he wanted to crawl back under the sheets and sleep. But he just knew he had to do this, and he swallowed, kissing Lex's forehead once before slipping away.

Lex just watched, cheek on his knee.

Samson jumped up out of the bed as Clark left the room, and followed, crying piteously. "Oooooo!" Snuffle. "Arrroooooooo."

Shit. Clark heard his little puppy crying as soon as he started down the steps, and straightened as much as he could, swallowing hard as he got down to the first floor, out the door, and on his way to school.

But not without hearing a teeny, soft giggle that went in one ear and out the other.

Samson sat there, on the front steps, howling after the Clark.

There was another little giggle, and a little pudgy child no larger than Shane toddled down the hall and out onto the front stoop. Unnoticed by the dog, the little toddler stood on the step, gurgling.

The second little sound Clark heard, and he turned to look.

The child was small, wearing smudged overalls, tennis shoes and a little tiny theme park t-shirt. A head full of auburn hair, deep blue-green eyes, and a toothless grin.

And Clark was so terrified, as he stood there in the freezing rain, looking back at the partially open door, that he couldn’t scream.

The little child raised his pudgy little arm, and waved bye-bye as though he knew that Clark was leaving.

Clark froze, instinctually raising his hand and waving back. His heart, his mind, his body was frozen as if in terror, joy, anger, pleasure. The little boy was a mirror image of Lex, and Clark couldn’t...

He rubbed his eyes, with both fists, rubbing hard as he could... and when he opened them, the little baby was gone.

And Clark simply pulled his keys from his pocket, opened the car door, got in, and drove to school.

~ * ~ * ~

Lionel waited until Clark had left the room, and he put his newspaper down, looking at his napping, drowsy lover. "Wake up, my sleepy little cricket. You and I have a lot of work to do today, not to mention, we're meeting with Mr. Ross about his work."

"Mm." Was Dominic’s soft reply, snuggling into his arms and rubbing his cheek as he cracked a yawn, his back heaving up before softly going down with his expelled breath. "Sl'py."

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Lionel pushed a coffee cup towards his lover, and then filled it from the steaming silver carafe. "Here, drink this, it will help. As soon as Lex shows his face, we'll leave."

"Mrrr." Came the response, lifting his head groggily to give his lover a sleepy, glassy look. His hair was incredibly mussed, his lips slightly swollen with sleepy snores, his eyes at half mast. He looked like he'd had a particularly fun night, and was now suffering for it.

Except he always looked like this in the morning.

"Coooffeee." He took the cup, hot to the touch, and took a swallow of it as he pulled his slender legs up to his chest, yawning. "Mmmmmmmm."

"Yes, coffee. However... no more nicotine for you. You tend to taste like an ashtray, and I won't stand for kissing someone who tastes like an ashtray smells."

He. Just. Stared. And flipped his lover the bird.

"Hand gestures in lieu of verbal conversation? That is a new trend." Lionel's newspaper rustled as he raised it back up, hiding his wide grin. "What has you so exhausted this morning, my cricket?"

"Mmmm jus' sl'py." Dominic muttered, snuggling into his large sweatshirt and his cup of coffee. He cracked a heavy yawn, rubbing his face and head, and gave the back of his neck a scratch. Mmmmmm. Cooooffffeeeee. Lifeeess bloooood. Oh!

Dominic untangled his feet, letting them fall before going into his pocket. He'd pushed the slender bottle in there before trudging down the steps, and he took it out, popping the cap and shaking out one of the tiny pills. He broke it in half as the pharmacist had instructed, and pushed it across the table in front of his lovers newspaper.

Lionel looked down at the half-pill in front of him, and then back to his lover. "I don't need Viagra, Dominic."

Okay. Dominic cracked a wide grin, one eyebrow raising up. "No, you cert'inly don’t." He sobered then, tipping his head. "I gotya perspcr'ption filled."

Lionel blinked once. "Prescription?"

"Tha' the doctor gave you yesterday." A soft nod, rubbing his cheek and raspy jaw as he yawned again.

Using the tip of his finger, Lionel silently pushed the pill back across the table.

Dammit. "Lionel."

"Yes, Dominic?"

"You take care of me and Herbert, Husband, when we were both incapacitated. Let me take care of you now? Please?"

Lionel folded his newspaper down again, and looked at his lover. "I don't have a problem with you taking care of me, Dominic. But I am fine, despite the doctor's beliefs otherwise."

"Aye, and that’s a lie if I ever heard one." Dominic tipped his mussed head. "You’re so beyond not fine you're... not fine. Dammit. So just take it and let yourself feel better, beloved."

Lionel gazed softly at his lover. "Do you enjoy having sex with me, Dominic?"

Soft sigh. "Yes, I do."

"Then put the lid back on your bottle there, and tuck those pills away. They cause what are commonly termed as sexual side effects. I, for one, am far too happy with my performance as it is to endanger it."

"And wouldn’t you know it, but I asked the pharmacist about it." Dominic offered a glare. "For a good hour, while you slept in the car like the right sleepy lout I turned you into." At that, he puffed up in pride, shooting him a grin before continuing. "And she told me that there aren’t any physical side effects. The only possibility is for mood swings, but you’re so grumpy no one could tell." He said slyly, brow raised up and daring him to object.

Lionel sighed. He knew when he was beaten. "I am not grumpy," he said, but held his hand out for the pill. "Nor am I a lout."

"You're twice grumpy and loutish, but you're my grumpy lout and no one else gets to call you that but me." Dominic handed over the pill, or the half of one. "And damn if you didn’t stir me up with all this talk of sex." A heavy sigh. "You know how men hit their sexual peak and gradually recede? Not me."

Lionel looked at the small half-tablet in his hand, and considered it for a very long while. Many thoughts ran through his head, most of them angry or sad thoughts he'd felt after the death of his son and his wife. Then a thought of the son that survived, hurting now and needing him at the top of his game.

Lionel washed the tablet down with the rest of his orange juice without a word.

Dominic tipped his head, and smiled. "Good lad. Next time I'll get a spoon full of sugar for you." Though the last part he said condescendingly, and scooted back before Lionel could smack him, snickering as he picked up his cup of coffee. His pajama pants sagged on his hips, his sweater was way too big, but he snickered anyway and turned towards the steps. "But I'll be damned if I'll wear an apron."

Lionel merely glared. "I'll buy you an umbrella if you promise not to float away on the next wind," he groused. "Go shower and get dressed; I'll be there shortly."

Dominic flicked him off again over his head as he walked up the steps.

~ * ~ * ~

-fin-

go on to the next part