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Entry tags:
Random scene
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Lex, Clark
Fairly certain it's related to this, though the details need to be worked out.
Lex is a meteor mutant and his body adapted, slowly. Painfully
At the end he could still feel that almost liquid, disgusting excuse for air pushing its way through his veins.
Like minuscule shards of glass, hooked up with homing devices that knew just when and how to get the most hurt of a movement.
Breath in. Capillaries burst. There's always blood in his lungs now. Blood everywhere. Breath out. Not the relief it should be. It's nice not to have that shit burning up his insides but his lungs are screaming for oxygen and it takes four times as many breaths here than usual, to get even the bare minimum of what he *needs*.
He stopped being able to see some time ago. He's nothing but flesh and air.
Breathe and he can almost feel the twitch that runs through his body. Maybe a ghost of sensation at this point - it doesn't hurt so much as consume. Devours what's left of his consciousness until he's the wave, sweeping through and switching everything one after another on, *on*. If he's convinced himself that he IS the pain then he really has to be hallucinating at this point or really fucked off his head.
He thinks he's only been here 24 hours. He's sure it's not less than that
He's marking out the passing hours, minutes, seconds. Scratched himself with them, writing with the only ink available. He shouldn't still be here, dead or alive.
Clark was supposed to be here within hours. They'd worked it all out. Planned it months ago. Clark should have made it up here in under five, easy. So something's not right and Lex isn't high priority enough, not practically, for Clark to take the risk.
He's going to get the fuck out of here. He doesn't doubt that for second. With or without Clark's help - if he has to claw his way through the hull and learn how to breathe in a vacuum he will, because Lex isn't quite finished yet.
He breathes out and isn't sure if the shuddering grown is his own body. He hasn't heard his heartbeat in... some time. It hurts. It hurts more than even the last time, but suddenly he's feeling more than pain. It's cold, a teasing stream across the backs of his calves and spreading
The groan is louder. Now he's sure it's nothing to do with him - it shrieks higher and higher, either a delusion or something metal
A rhythmic thumping settles in with the shrieking/groaning and Lex is treated to his very own performance of the traveling version of Stomp. Outside the hull there are a herd of young black men with garbage can lids and big boots.
Outside the hull there is... something that wasn't there before and you can't hear. In space.
That teasing trickle of cold is pooling over his back now and fuck the possibility of frostbite, anything is better than a week of the humid mud of the ship.
Something shifts - maybe the ship itself - and he's *rolling*. His ribs, already stressed, crack against the floor when he's thrown from his bunk
Then the thumping stops and the groaning.
It's so loud it's soundless, like everything afterward.
There's snow falling on his face, he thinks.
And it hurts. It's cold, too cold, two kinds of burning on skin he thinks might just peel back and alight into the winter air.
He's steady. The ship is steady and he isn't moving - he can feel that much while everything is black, black, black. He's tempted to try to move his jaw, open it up enough to let his tongue drop out. See if he can taste the floor. He can't *see* anything but he knows he's feeling snow.
"Lex!"
And god, now he can smell it. In heaving gasps he can smell the snow and the *oxygen* shoots through him like he's mainlining it, straight from the womb and new to a non-liquid atmosphere.
If anything, his world is getting blacker and blacker, sensation dropping away like the illusion of functional vision. Black. There goes his legs - he hadn't known he could even *feel* there. Black. There goes his torso. Black, black, black.
The last thing to go are his lips and nose, shivering and still trying to draw in *more*.
***
"Jesus." It comes from multiple sources and he's going to bother tracking them.
Clark lays him out on the stretcher and the medical personal crowds around him, behind them, the soldiers press close. Lex's body is still shaking. So violent, like he's going to shake right apart. Jitters.
But he's undeniably alive and the medical personel look encouraged. Dumb founded, sure, but pleased maybe. Not only have they got the medical find of the fucking millenium, they have have *Lex* back, and one hell of a story to tell their grandkids if any of them live long enough to breed.
They're all bundled up in layers and layers of mismatched cloth but no one offers Clark a jacket. He's standing there, in his jeans and t-shirt and no one's batting an eye.
This is what it's like to be Clark Kent and Superman all at once.
He's only every been this for his parents and Lois before.
Somehow it never counted with Lex, not even when they both knew that they both knew all Clark's secrets.
Lex's eyes open again. Fast enough that it looks painful.
The doctors wanted to medicate him right away but Clark refused. Said that Lex would have enough problems that handling doses of painkillers woul overload his body.
Bloodshot and clouded, Lex's eyes still find Clark's and he mouths his name - "Cl-aa-rk-k" - before choking on the blood streaming from his nose and falling unconcious again.
If Clark was still a romantic, he'd figure that meant something really special, but it's more likely that Lex is pissed off that he's so late.
Lex understand saccrifice though and once Clark explains that he got waylaid by a convoy of gas-ships burning their way across central Asia, Lex will probably scream and throw his thin, bunker-issue pillow at him. Lex would probably have preferred that Clark stay long enough to not only make sure the ships were taken out and the bugs killed, but that the locals were fine.
The troops are there to clean up. Clark's seen a lot of villages, saved a lot of them and he's pretty sure that this one will be fine without an ex-Sutperhero's help.
He's a soldier now. That's what he told Lex when he burned the cape. Just a soldier like the rest of them. Since he can't use his powers until some humans have made the way safe for him by stripping the bugs' ships of their Kryptonite weapons, he's nothing special.
He doesn't really care if Lex thinks today was a justifiable risk. They got one of the fucking big ships. And they got Lex back.
Characters: Lex, Clark
Fairly certain it's related to this, though the details need to be worked out.
Lex is a meteor mutant and his body adapted, slowly. Painfully
At the end he could still feel that almost liquid, disgusting excuse for air pushing its way through his veins.
Like minuscule shards of glass, hooked up with homing devices that knew just when and how to get the most hurt of a movement.
Breath in. Capillaries burst. There's always blood in his lungs now. Blood everywhere. Breath out. Not the relief it should be. It's nice not to have that shit burning up his insides but his lungs are screaming for oxygen and it takes four times as many breaths here than usual, to get even the bare minimum of what he *needs*.
He stopped being able to see some time ago. He's nothing but flesh and air.
Breathe and he can almost feel the twitch that runs through his body. Maybe a ghost of sensation at this point - it doesn't hurt so much as consume. Devours what's left of his consciousness until he's the wave, sweeping through and switching everything one after another on, *on*. If he's convinced himself that he IS the pain then he really has to be hallucinating at this point or really fucked off his head.
He thinks he's only been here 24 hours. He's sure it's not less than that
He's marking out the passing hours, minutes, seconds. Scratched himself with them, writing with the only ink available. He shouldn't still be here, dead or alive.
Clark was supposed to be here within hours. They'd worked it all out. Planned it months ago. Clark should have made it up here in under five, easy. So something's not right and Lex isn't high priority enough, not practically, for Clark to take the risk.
He's going to get the fuck out of here. He doesn't doubt that for second. With or without Clark's help - if he has to claw his way through the hull and learn how to breathe in a vacuum he will, because Lex isn't quite finished yet.
He breathes out and isn't sure if the shuddering grown is his own body. He hasn't heard his heartbeat in... some time. It hurts. It hurts more than even the last time, but suddenly he's feeling more than pain. It's cold, a teasing stream across the backs of his calves and spreading
The groan is louder. Now he's sure it's nothing to do with him - it shrieks higher and higher, either a delusion or something metal
A rhythmic thumping settles in with the shrieking/groaning and Lex is treated to his very own performance of the traveling version of Stomp. Outside the hull there are a herd of young black men with garbage can lids and big boots.
Outside the hull there is... something that wasn't there before and you can't hear. In space.
That teasing trickle of cold is pooling over his back now and fuck the possibility of frostbite, anything is better than a week of the humid mud of the ship.
Something shifts - maybe the ship itself - and he's *rolling*. His ribs, already stressed, crack against the floor when he's thrown from his bunk
Then the thumping stops and the groaning.
It's so loud it's soundless, like everything afterward.
There's snow falling on his face, he thinks.
And it hurts. It's cold, too cold, two kinds of burning on skin he thinks might just peel back and alight into the winter air.
He's steady. The ship is steady and he isn't moving - he can feel that much while everything is black, black, black. He's tempted to try to move his jaw, open it up enough to let his tongue drop out. See if he can taste the floor. He can't *see* anything but he knows he's feeling snow.
"Lex!"
And god, now he can smell it. In heaving gasps he can smell the snow and the *oxygen* shoots through him like he's mainlining it, straight from the womb and new to a non-liquid atmosphere.
If anything, his world is getting blacker and blacker, sensation dropping away like the illusion of functional vision. Black. There goes his legs - he hadn't known he could even *feel* there. Black. There goes his torso. Black, black, black.
The last thing to go are his lips and nose, shivering and still trying to draw in *more*.
***
"Jesus." It comes from multiple sources and he's going to bother tracking them.
Clark lays him out on the stretcher and the medical personal crowds around him, behind them, the soldiers press close. Lex's body is still shaking. So violent, like he's going to shake right apart. Jitters.
But he's undeniably alive and the medical personel look encouraged. Dumb founded, sure, but pleased maybe. Not only have they got the medical find of the fucking millenium, they have have *Lex* back, and one hell of a story to tell their grandkids if any of them live long enough to breed.
They're all bundled up in layers and layers of mismatched cloth but no one offers Clark a jacket. He's standing there, in his jeans and t-shirt and no one's batting an eye.
This is what it's like to be Clark Kent and Superman all at once.
He's only every been this for his parents and Lois before.
Somehow it never counted with Lex, not even when they both knew that they both knew all Clark's secrets.
Lex's eyes open again. Fast enough that it looks painful.
The doctors wanted to medicate him right away but Clark refused. Said that Lex would have enough problems that handling doses of painkillers woul overload his body.
Bloodshot and clouded, Lex's eyes still find Clark's and he mouths his name - "Cl-aa-rk-k" - before choking on the blood streaming from his nose and falling unconcious again.
If Clark was still a romantic, he'd figure that meant something really special, but it's more likely that Lex is pissed off that he's so late.
Lex understand saccrifice though and once Clark explains that he got waylaid by a convoy of gas-ships burning their way across central Asia, Lex will probably scream and throw his thin, bunker-issue pillow at him. Lex would probably have preferred that Clark stay long enough to not only make sure the ships were taken out and the bugs killed, but that the locals were fine.
The troops are there to clean up. Clark's seen a lot of villages, saved a lot of them and he's pretty sure that this one will be fine without an ex-Sutperhero's help.
He's a soldier now. That's what he told Lex when he burned the cape. Just a soldier like the rest of them. Since he can't use his powers until some humans have made the way safe for him by stripping the bugs' ships of their Kryptonite weapons, he's nothing special.
He doesn't really care if Lex thinks today was a justifiable risk. They got one of the fucking big ships. And they got Lex back.
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