Title: Hollow Comfort
Author: Sue Dreams
Email: sue_dreams09@yahoo.com
Rating: G
Challenge: Wave 34, the Autumn challenge. Words
were: 9. ghost, 11. monster, and 15. All Hallow's Eve
Notes: Does not contradict any canon regarding
character statuses.
Disclaimer: Superman, complete with shiny costume,
is the brainchild of Siegel and Schuster, and belongs to DC and Warner, and
probably some other people. Smallville goes to the CW and AlMiles (and, also,
probably to some other people). No profit is made. No vigilantes were hurt
(much) in the making of this fic.
Summary: Future!fic (of a sort.) All Hallow's Eve
is believed to be the night in which the barriers between 'our world' and the
netherworld are thinnest. Lex can't restrict himself to just watching Clark in
the aftermath of a battle.
* * *
The rain has let up, almost as if the weather
itself is reacting to the end of the battle. Water still comes down in
drizzles, dripping on his head and running down it in thin rivulets. Lex has to
wipe his head with his soaked sleeve to keep it from continually obscuring his
vision. Clark's outfit seems to have fared better; spandex doesn't hold water
like silk, though there's something squelchy in Clark's movements to suggest it
does absorb in its own way.
It's slow going, trying to traverse the ruined
street between them, but Clark keeps stopping and slumping over, making
catching up easier. Lex knows the signs of injury and Kryptonite-induced weakness
when he sees it. It's a wonder he's still upright at all, let alone capable of
walking.
Somewhere, the remains of the Justice League are
securing the area and seeing to the civilians, but no one has come to check on
Superman since the Gargantuan went down. Even Lane is missing in action. Not
presumed dead, however. Lois Lane is hardier than a cockroach and just as prone
to scuttling out of reach of danger.
He reaches Clark's side just as the Kryptonian
comes to another slouching standstill. Lex weaves, and it takes a combination
of combat training and dance lessons for Lex to maneuver himself under Clark's
arm. As a crutch, he's none-too-solid. Clark seems to realize that, as his
weight shifts to bring him upright again.
As one awkward, four-legged creature, they lumber
off the street and onto a bus stop bench. The shelter was torn away during
battle with the monster, but the seat is intact. Lex helps Clark into a sitting
position, then straightens back up. "Stay there." He can't exactly
run and get one of the medics, and he doesn't know who else takes care of Clark
when he's this weak, other than the costumed freaks still playing hero to the
general populace.
Lex wishes he could call someone for assistance.
Martha comes to mind, but he can only imagine her reaction to that call. He
looks at Clark and shares the image, finishing with, "And then she'd ask
me what I thought I was doing with her son."
There's not much of a reaction from Clark, and Lex
moves closer again, his hands in his pockets. Anger simmers in his chest, that
Clark is left alone like this with no one but Lex to look after him. He doesn't
like Bruce, but he expects more from him. The bastard should have been looking
out for his fellow Caped Crusader.
"I'd have to answer, 'Having my wicked way
with him, of course,'" Lex adds. Clark's head lifts and green eyes regard
him with a silent question. "I would, if the situation were
different."
Clark rewards him with a crooking at the corner of
his mouth, an attempt at a smile. Lex sits down next to him and they lean into
each other. Clark's head rolls to rest against his shoulder. "'m
tired."
Lex wraps an arm around his shoulders and lets him
rest, knowing it won't be too long before Bruce-as-Batman finds them. The
drizzle eases back to a gloomy dampness with the occasional splat of droplets.
The ground shakes as a damaged building finishes
its collapse half a street away. Clark doesn't even flinch at the noise, though
Lex jumps enough for the both of them. He looks up to check the area immediately
above them. Clark's in no condition to do any more rescuing, even of himself.
There are sirens in the distance, but their little
spot, though neither private nor protected, is almost a haven. Lex leans his
cheek against the top of Clark's head and lets the heat seep from Clark's skin
and into his own. It's surprisingly peaceful, for a scene from the end of the
world.
The batarang makes no sound, striking and catching
so far above and away from them, but Lex sees the black shape of the Batman as he
approaches. He shimmies out from under Clark and lays him gently down on the
bench to rest. He picks his way back into the street, and keeps his back to
Clark and Bruce as the latter sets down in a flutter of cape.
"Superman."
"Mm," Clark murmurs. He's muzzy, still
exhausted. Lex turns and watches as he struggles to sit up unaided. Heaven
forbid Bruce actually help or show real concern. "Batman?"
"The creature is down, though we can't tell
if it's dead." Lex is pretty sure it isn't. There's a pause, one that is
heavy and loud with Bruce's inner struggle. Whatever in him that acts as his
human heart seems to get the better of him. "Are you going to be
okay?"
"Fine," Clark says softly. His eyes are
open and flickering over the mini-craters that litter what once had been a main
thoroughfare. "I thought I saw-"
Batman shifts closer, but he doesn't sit down.
"Saw?" He turns his head in a motion that is slow and controlled,
looking for enemies without making it seem as if he's on alert.
"Nothing," Clark says. His gaze moves
over Lex without stopping, without any indication that he's seen him. "It
was nothing, just seeing things."
"It may not be nothing." It's rare for
Bruce to disagree without sounding like he's arguing, and he doesn't manage it
this time. There's something about Clark and Superman that always has his back
up. "It is All Hallow's Eve and there's no telling what that thing brought
with it."
It seems to take a lot of effort, but Clark
manages to get to his feet. His costume is the worse for wear, his cape torn
down the center so that it hangs in two strips, but he's still Superman. He
moves past Bruce and toward Lex. "Trust me, this isn't anything Cthulhu
here brought with him from the Netherworld." His voice softens as he stops
in front of Lex. He's looking at a spot over Lex's shoulder, staring into a
distance probably only he can see. "Just a ghost from my past."
The rescue efforts are drawing closer. Batman
starts to say something, stops, and then fills in the awkward silence that
follows with, "We should see to helping the others."
"I'll be right there." Clark doesn't
look over his shoulder as Batman nods and then leaves with more noise than he
arrived. When it's again just the two of them, Clark breathes out a small sigh,
one that seems to push out the last of the effects of the battle. Lex waits for
him to fly or speed away, but instead, Clark's eyes come back to make contact
with Lex's.
The shock strikes him mute.
This time, Clark manages a full smile. If it seems
a little wistful, that could just be Lex projecting. "One day," he
says. It sounds like a promise.
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