Inseparable (Epilogue)
Dec. 27th, 2007 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bagheera_sanThat's it, the final part/epilogue. It's a bit clumsy (you know those overly complicated stories where at the end, some naive character must ask "But, sir, what the hell just happened?" Like the ending of pretty much every Harry Potter book? This is just like that, only with Supergirl instead of Dumbledore.)
Title: Inseparable (Epilogue/7)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clex. Mentions of past Clana and Lexana.
Genre: Action-adventure futurefic with a helping of crack & romance - the usual.
Length: 43845 words
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plnunn's Doujinshi Challenge. Cover #6 . Many thanks to my beta danceswithgary, who found the time for this even in this busy time of year :)
Summary: Powerless, handcuffed to his evil nemesis and running for his life from mutant Antarctic Indians - worse things have happened to Clark Kent. Maybe.
Epilogue
The scent of antiseptic and the slide of hospital sheets against his bare legs, the beeping machinery and the drab white silence in the room were all too familiar for Lex to be confused or disoriented. Instead, he went instantly from unconsciousness to a fear so harsh it closed his throat and stopped his heart, sitting up with a jolt, like a man reanimated.
The room had only one bed, much less luxurious or colorful than he was used from Smallville and Metropolis hospitals, and the windows were covered with long, white curtains. There was a cross on the wall opposite his bed, stark and stern, and the emaciated messiah instantly brought Clark to mind. Not a single hint of color was in the room, save for the rainbow burst of red, yellow and blue fabric and tanned skin, studying a bottle of cola with great fascination, sitting next to him.
For a second, Supergirl was cross-eyed, then she blinked and looked up at him, "Oh, sorry! It was kind of boring sitting here and I got all fascinated by the molecules." She waved a hand vaguely and put the soda down on the bedside table. "From time to time the El side comes through and I get all science-y."
The words barely registered, and Lex already had one foot out of the bed before she raised a stern finger. "Rule number one: I'm not allowed to let you get out of bed and run away. So get back under the covers."
Faced with five foot something of stubborn, mini-skirt wearing Kryptonian, Lex stopped his flight. "Rule number one? Would you care to tell me what is going on here?"
"Oh, you're in a hospital in Chile. Don't worry, it's a really exclusive one, or so they say. You didn't have any money on you, but I think Kal-El screaming at them cowed them into giving you the best care possible." She beamed. "And he gave me rules. One, you can't leave. Two, I can't let you work, not even on a laptop. Three, if the press or your father shows up, I must defend you with my life. Four…no, that's about it."
Lex blinked, and gave in to the dizziness by sliding back under the covers and resting his head on the pillow. He stared at Kara Kent's apple-cheeked face for a long moment before he trusted his voice to be calm and controlled. "Clark?" he asked.
He wasn't asking to know where Clark was – it wasn't as if Clark was obliged to stay at his bedside, Lex would have fled as soon as the cuffs came off, too. The cuffs - there was a pale stripe of skin around his left wrist where the shackle had been, and the rest of his hand was unusually tanned. The scar from his slit vein was already knitted and fading.
"Ah, so rule number four can be dropped," Kara nodded. "If you hadn't remembered his name, or had chosen not to, or something like that, I was supposed to pretend – well, you know Clark. He's a little messed-up from his childhood trauma."
Lex fixed Supergirl with a stare that had commanded armies of flunkies. She didn't really seem to notice. "Where is he?"
"He's fine, he waited here for hours, but there was a little problem in the Antarctic. You guys really made it hard for us! Once we found out what they'd done to you, Mercy and I managed to scare the Lemurians into letting you go, but by then, you'd vanished in the jungle. So the Lemurian high priests promised their people that anyone who brought you in unharmed would get a head money - and then you escaped again from the people who wanted to save you just when they were about to take you back to us! And in the meantime, Mercy convinced Lois that Clark was probably dead, and I could hardly tell her that he's Superman, right? So he had to go back to Lemuria and show up as Clark Kent. I guess it'll take him a while to get back here – they'll put him on a plane and fly him back to Metropolis."
"And what makes him think he can force me to stay here, in the middle of nowhere, with you as my jailer?" Lex asked, once his worries had lifted enough to reveal the anger beneath.
"Yeah, he said you'd be pissed off," she nodded. "And that you'd try to leave and hide somewhere from him and build up defenses, because you're in denial and you think it can never work out between you."
Lex hated that Clark knew him so well, and he felt like acting contrary just for the hell of it. But there were still questions to ask. "What about the Lemurians? Did you convince them that Clark is not Naman?"
"Oh," Kara said, "but I think he is. Hasn't the prophecy come true? He came to their land and ended their hidden existence, so in a way, by trying to kill him, they accidentally brought about their own apocalypse. Now they'll have to deal with the rest of the world. Most of them take the fact that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for Clark's life as a good omen. In their legends Naman and Segeth always fight, so if you don't that means there is free will. I'm glad, you know? This whole Naman and Segeth story sounds like some awful thing our fathers would have wanted."
"Why did the cuffs come off before either of us died?"
"They were only meant to keep you closely together until you started fighting in earnest. Since both your blood had touched the dagger's blade and your bodies were both under a lot of stress… I guess they must have thought you were about to kill each other or die trying."
When Lex had turned the dagger against himself, he had hoped something like that would happen, but he had by no means been sure. It was good to know he had been right.
So," her eyes flashed with amusement and curiosity. "What happened between you and my little cousin?"
"Nothing of any consequence," Lex replied coldly. "We're both alive and whatever misunderstandings we had about Superman have been cleared up. You can leave me to my own devices, I won't hurt either of you." With all his presumptions, Clark had assured that Lex definitely wouldn't stay here, like some damsel in distress waiting for her hero, ready to swoon in his arms. Damn him.
Kara laughed. "O-kay. Too bad, I would have loved to hear the details, but Clark clammed up, too. Anyways, if you say nothing has changed or any other denials like that, I'm supposed to say: Actions speak louder than words. Mighty mysterious, huh?"
Lex stared, then he lifted the hand he hadn't sliced to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was stuck in some cheap hospital full of butchers, with an alien to keep him in bed, and another alien eroding his sanity without even being there.
"He sent you to me with a platitude," Lex said flatly.
She shrugged. "That's Clark." Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh, and a final message!"
She was gone from the chair in the blink of an eye. Apparently, that final message wasn't going to happen. Enough time passed for Lex to start looking for a call button or something. First, he would have to get a cell phone, then clothes. Who knew what had happened in Metropolis while he and Clark were gone.
His hand was on the button when the rush of air swept back into the room through the window and Kara gave him a stern look, on hand on her hip, the other shaking a rolled-up newspaper at him. "Oh no, you don't."
Aggravated, Lex glared at her, and then caught the paper when she threw it at him. "Daily Planet morning edition," Kara explained. "He sent in the article straight from the plane."
Lex skimmed the front page, and found it quickly. "CEO alive, polar scare turns out to be misunderstanding," he read.
"Go on," Kara encouraged.
Lex usually had other people summarize the Planet for him, he didn't care to read Clark's articles – or rather, he found it hard to resist the urge to collect them all somewhere, in secret, a new obsession with the words of a poet from the mouth of a liar. Clark was gifted on paper: once the topic gripped him, all the awkwardness and dishonesty fell away.
Maybe he would have realized the truth sooner if he had read Clark's articles on Superman.
The ones he'd read, occasionally, in a fit of bitterness, were those on himself and his evil deeds. Clark's words painted him as the devil more surely than any of Superman's ever could.
The initial paragraph didn't say much; just that he had been found alive, and that the Lemurians had acted on a misunderstanding that made them believe Superman was a menace. It was all very diplomatic. Obviously, Clark, with his usual gullibility, still believed he could make peace with the Lemurians.
Then the article returned to Lex. "As usual, the news of Mr. Luthor's demise turned out to be highly exaggerated," it said, and something rang in those words, fondness and relief, that gave Lex pause. He read on with a frown, and found himself a man reborn in black ink on white paper: Clark wrote how he had saved Superman's life repeatedly, heroic and selfless, and how he had nearly sacrificed himself: not just for Superman, but also for the sake of the world. Gratitude rang in every word, but also admiration, and a constant silent apology.
When he was finished, Lex let the paper sink onto the sheets and realized that he was alone in the hospital room. Supergirl had left stealthily while he was engrossed in the tale. The only sound in the room was the soft whirr of a ventilator and the occasional beep of a machine.
Actions speak louder than words; Clark had sent her to tell him. What was this paper then, only words, and therefore a lie? Or was it an act of speech and faith? Instead of saying it to Lex's face in the privacy of this room, Clark had made his thanks a public matter. That was far more trust and commitment than Lex would have expected of him.
He wavered between leaving and staying. It wasn't as if he could run from Clark indefinitely, after all, the globe was small and Clark was Superman. But Clark had rejected him, time and time again, so wasn't it Lex's turn to repay the insult?
The door opened, and someone entered, the sharp click of heels definitely not Clark. It was Ms.Graves, coming to a halt at the foot of Lex's bed. She exhaled, her face softening for a second in relief, and then she became professional again, almost snapping to attention before greeting him a little stiffly. "Mr. Luthor."
Lex smiled, trying not to act too surprised. "Ms.Graves. I didn't expect you here so soon."
"I just arrived from Antarctica, sir. I was tracking the aliens."
Lex's smile widened. Could it be? Finally, a good right-hand woman? "Good job."
"Thank you, sir. The private jet is ready to leave for Metropolis as soon as you see fit."
Lex considered the white sheets and bland furniture, the hospital smells stinging his nose. The jet was tempting.
"Do you have my laptop and phone?" he asked. She nodded briskly and unpacked them from her small metal suitcase, setting up the laptop immediately and handing him the phone.
Scrolling down the never-ending list of emails he had missed, Lex nodded. "Very good. We will stay here until tomorrow, eight sharp."
She didn't question his orders, although she couldn't quite hide her confusion. The afternoon passed in a flurry of work. Lex didn't remember eating, or falling asleep, or having his laptop taken away from him, but when he woke at the first light of morning spilling through the white curtains, there was a dark head resting on the bed beside him. Clark's flannel-clad form slumped over the bed, and Lex's hand was tangled in soft curls.
Title: Inseparable (Epilogue/7)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clex. Mentions of past Clana and Lexana.
Genre: Action-adventure futurefic with a helping of crack & romance - the usual.
Length: 43845 words
Notes: Written for
plnunn's Doujinshi Challenge. Cover #6 . Many thanks to my beta danceswithgary, who found the time for this even in this busy time of year :)Summary: Powerless, handcuffed to his evil nemesis and running for his life from mutant Antarctic Indians - worse things have happened to Clark Kent. Maybe.
Epilogue
The scent of antiseptic and the slide of hospital sheets against his bare legs, the beeping machinery and the drab white silence in the room were all too familiar for Lex to be confused or disoriented. Instead, he went instantly from unconsciousness to a fear so harsh it closed his throat and stopped his heart, sitting up with a jolt, like a man reanimated.
The room had only one bed, much less luxurious or colorful than he was used from Smallville and Metropolis hospitals, and the windows were covered with long, white curtains. There was a cross on the wall opposite his bed, stark and stern, and the emaciated messiah instantly brought Clark to mind. Not a single hint of color was in the room, save for the rainbow burst of red, yellow and blue fabric and tanned skin, studying a bottle of cola with great fascination, sitting next to him.
For a second, Supergirl was cross-eyed, then she blinked and looked up at him, "Oh, sorry! It was kind of boring sitting here and I got all fascinated by the molecules." She waved a hand vaguely and put the soda down on the bedside table. "From time to time the El side comes through and I get all science-y."
The words barely registered, and Lex already had one foot out of the bed before she raised a stern finger. "Rule number one: I'm not allowed to let you get out of bed and run away. So get back under the covers."
Faced with five foot something of stubborn, mini-skirt wearing Kryptonian, Lex stopped his flight. "Rule number one? Would you care to tell me what is going on here?"
"Oh, you're in a hospital in Chile. Don't worry, it's a really exclusive one, or so they say. You didn't have any money on you, but I think Kal-El screaming at them cowed them into giving you the best care possible." She beamed. "And he gave me rules. One, you can't leave. Two, I can't let you work, not even on a laptop. Three, if the press or your father shows up, I must defend you with my life. Four…no, that's about it."
Lex blinked, and gave in to the dizziness by sliding back under the covers and resting his head on the pillow. He stared at Kara Kent's apple-cheeked face for a long moment before he trusted his voice to be calm and controlled. "Clark?" he asked.
He wasn't asking to know where Clark was – it wasn't as if Clark was obliged to stay at his bedside, Lex would have fled as soon as the cuffs came off, too. The cuffs - there was a pale stripe of skin around his left wrist where the shackle had been, and the rest of his hand was unusually tanned. The scar from his slit vein was already knitted and fading.
"Ah, so rule number four can be dropped," Kara nodded. "If you hadn't remembered his name, or had chosen not to, or something like that, I was supposed to pretend – well, you know Clark. He's a little messed-up from his childhood trauma."
Lex fixed Supergirl with a stare that had commanded armies of flunkies. She didn't really seem to notice. "Where is he?"
"He's fine, he waited here for hours, but there was a little problem in the Antarctic. You guys really made it hard for us! Once we found out what they'd done to you, Mercy and I managed to scare the Lemurians into letting you go, but by then, you'd vanished in the jungle. So the Lemurian high priests promised their people that anyone who brought you in unharmed would get a head money - and then you escaped again from the people who wanted to save you just when they were about to take you back to us! And in the meantime, Mercy convinced Lois that Clark was probably dead, and I could hardly tell her that he's Superman, right? So he had to go back to Lemuria and show up as Clark Kent. I guess it'll take him a while to get back here – they'll put him on a plane and fly him back to Metropolis."
"And what makes him think he can force me to stay here, in the middle of nowhere, with you as my jailer?" Lex asked, once his worries had lifted enough to reveal the anger beneath.
"Yeah, he said you'd be pissed off," she nodded. "And that you'd try to leave and hide somewhere from him and build up defenses, because you're in denial and you think it can never work out between you."
Lex hated that Clark knew him so well, and he felt like acting contrary just for the hell of it. But there were still questions to ask. "What about the Lemurians? Did you convince them that Clark is not Naman?"
"Oh," Kara said, "but I think he is. Hasn't the prophecy come true? He came to their land and ended their hidden existence, so in a way, by trying to kill him, they accidentally brought about their own apocalypse. Now they'll have to deal with the rest of the world. Most of them take the fact that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for Clark's life as a good omen. In their legends Naman and Segeth always fight, so if you don't that means there is free will. I'm glad, you know? This whole Naman and Segeth story sounds like some awful thing our fathers would have wanted."
"Why did the cuffs come off before either of us died?"
"They were only meant to keep you closely together until you started fighting in earnest. Since both your blood had touched the dagger's blade and your bodies were both under a lot of stress… I guess they must have thought you were about to kill each other or die trying."
When Lex had turned the dagger against himself, he had hoped something like that would happen, but he had by no means been sure. It was good to know he had been right.
So," her eyes flashed with amusement and curiosity. "What happened between you and my little cousin?"
"Nothing of any consequence," Lex replied coldly. "We're both alive and whatever misunderstandings we had about Superman have been cleared up. You can leave me to my own devices, I won't hurt either of you." With all his presumptions, Clark had assured that Lex definitely wouldn't stay here, like some damsel in distress waiting for her hero, ready to swoon in his arms. Damn him.
Kara laughed. "O-kay. Too bad, I would have loved to hear the details, but Clark clammed up, too. Anyways, if you say nothing has changed or any other denials like that, I'm supposed to say: Actions speak louder than words. Mighty mysterious, huh?"
Lex stared, then he lifted the hand he hadn't sliced to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was stuck in some cheap hospital full of butchers, with an alien to keep him in bed, and another alien eroding his sanity without even being there.
"He sent you to me with a platitude," Lex said flatly.
She shrugged. "That's Clark." Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh, and a final message!"
She was gone from the chair in the blink of an eye. Apparently, that final message wasn't going to happen. Enough time passed for Lex to start looking for a call button or something. First, he would have to get a cell phone, then clothes. Who knew what had happened in Metropolis while he and Clark were gone.
His hand was on the button when the rush of air swept back into the room through the window and Kara gave him a stern look, on hand on her hip, the other shaking a rolled-up newspaper at him. "Oh no, you don't."
Aggravated, Lex glared at her, and then caught the paper when she threw it at him. "Daily Planet morning edition," Kara explained. "He sent in the article straight from the plane."
Lex skimmed the front page, and found it quickly. "CEO alive, polar scare turns out to be misunderstanding," he read.
"Go on," Kara encouraged.
Lex usually had other people summarize the Planet for him, he didn't care to read Clark's articles – or rather, he found it hard to resist the urge to collect them all somewhere, in secret, a new obsession with the words of a poet from the mouth of a liar. Clark was gifted on paper: once the topic gripped him, all the awkwardness and dishonesty fell away.
Maybe he would have realized the truth sooner if he had read Clark's articles on Superman.
The ones he'd read, occasionally, in a fit of bitterness, were those on himself and his evil deeds. Clark's words painted him as the devil more surely than any of Superman's ever could.
The initial paragraph didn't say much; just that he had been found alive, and that the Lemurians had acted on a misunderstanding that made them believe Superman was a menace. It was all very diplomatic. Obviously, Clark, with his usual gullibility, still believed he could make peace with the Lemurians.
Then the article returned to Lex. "As usual, the news of Mr. Luthor's demise turned out to be highly exaggerated," it said, and something rang in those words, fondness and relief, that gave Lex pause. He read on with a frown, and found himself a man reborn in black ink on white paper: Clark wrote how he had saved Superman's life repeatedly, heroic and selfless, and how he had nearly sacrificed himself: not just for Superman, but also for the sake of the world. Gratitude rang in every word, but also admiration, and a constant silent apology.
When he was finished, Lex let the paper sink onto the sheets and realized that he was alone in the hospital room. Supergirl had left stealthily while he was engrossed in the tale. The only sound in the room was the soft whirr of a ventilator and the occasional beep of a machine.
Actions speak louder than words; Clark had sent her to tell him. What was this paper then, only words, and therefore a lie? Or was it an act of speech and faith? Instead of saying it to Lex's face in the privacy of this room, Clark had made his thanks a public matter. That was far more trust and commitment than Lex would have expected of him.
He wavered between leaving and staying. It wasn't as if he could run from Clark indefinitely, after all, the globe was small and Clark was Superman. But Clark had rejected him, time and time again, so wasn't it Lex's turn to repay the insult?
The door opened, and someone entered, the sharp click of heels definitely not Clark. It was Ms.Graves, coming to a halt at the foot of Lex's bed. She exhaled, her face softening for a second in relief, and then she became professional again, almost snapping to attention before greeting him a little stiffly. "Mr. Luthor."
Lex smiled, trying not to act too surprised. "Ms.Graves. I didn't expect you here so soon."
"I just arrived from Antarctica, sir. I was tracking the aliens."
Lex's smile widened. Could it be? Finally, a good right-hand woman? "Good job."
"Thank you, sir. The private jet is ready to leave for Metropolis as soon as you see fit."
Lex considered the white sheets and bland furniture, the hospital smells stinging his nose. The jet was tempting.
"Do you have my laptop and phone?" he asked. She nodded briskly and unpacked them from her small metal suitcase, setting up the laptop immediately and handing him the phone.
Scrolling down the never-ending list of emails he had missed, Lex nodded. "Very good. We will stay here until tomorrow, eight sharp."
She didn't question his orders, although she couldn't quite hide her confusion. The afternoon passed in a flurry of work. Lex didn't remember eating, or falling asleep, or having his laptop taken away from him, but when he woke at the first light of morning spilling through the white curtains, there was a dark head resting on the bed beside him. Clark's flannel-clad form slumped over the bed, and Lex's hand was tangled in soft curls.
