Clark, are you on fire? [incomplete]

[goodtothecore.livejournal.com]

WHO: Atticus and Lex Luthor.
WHERE: Clark's derpy apartment place.
WHEN: April 30 during the power cut.
WARNINGS: Subtext, Smallville style.
SUMMARY: EXPLOSION. Seriously the canon demands Clark get exploded already.
FORMAT: Whatever we want.


Luckily, the lightbulbs in the apartment that Clark shared with Lex hadn't exploded, unlike the ones in the MAC apparently had, if Volkner's post was any indication. However, the lights had gone out, very suddenly, and the power grid itself was thrown into merry disarray, leaving Clark and Lex in undiminished darkness. It wasn't a problem for Clark thanks to his superhuman sight and hearing, but he had to be careful to fake stumbling around just as unhappily as Lex was genuinely doing.

Perhaps with less colourful language involved.

Eventually he happened to find the drawer with the maglite, and told Lex he was going to see if it was the fuse box, maybe he could fix it. And he did try that, with Lex following him and insisting that they should be able to call in someone to do that.

Maybe he should have let Lex call someone, actually, considering that in the dark and distraction of it all, he managed to cross some wires in the fuse box and, with the power grid messed up as it was, sent himself flying backwards into the wall, accompanied by a shower of sparks.

One more shirt down, one very immediate need for an explanation as to why he wasn't covered in third degree burns.

Comments

[machinating.livejournal.com]

Even the quickest of thinkers can be stymied by an event like that; several frozen panicked seconds stream by before Lex chokes out his friend's name and flies across the room in the crazily spinning circle of vision provided by the maglight, still moving from its sudden drop to the floor.

The light is found and uprighted before Lex crouches next to Clark on the floor. He knows very, very little about medical attention; paying the right people for the best care possible is basically pointless here. But Clark will be fine: he's always fine. Lex needs him to be okay, and he's accustomed to allowing himself that indulgence. "Just hold on, Clark, I'll get a doctor--"

Which surely Clark needs! A lot! OR DOES HE

[goodtothecore.livejournal.com]

The worry in his friend's voice is more painful than the electricity had been, sending a pang of guilt rocketing through him. Lex shouldn't have to be worried, shouldn't be thinking that Clark is hurt, when he's so much stronger than he can ever let anyone know. He wants to reassure him immediately, and take away the pressure of concern that he knows is clenching Lex like a vice right now.

"Lex, I'm fine, I don't need a doctor." He cuts in, loud and clear and sounding as uninjured as he is. ... Which is clearly going to need an explanation of some kind! Another awkward lie between them.

"I guess I was... grounded by my shoes. Or something." He knows as soon as it's out of his mouth how ridiculous it sounds, and wishes for the umpteenth time that one of his powers included lying convincingly. Or that he could just tell the truth, just for once.

[machinating.livejournal.com]

"Don't be ridiculous, you're not fine--" Lex snatches up the abandoned maglight, grim-faced and feeling absurdly guilty. The power that was gifted him by whatever forces govern the city, the way his bones knit back together and flesh reforms - the gift he privately thinks he earned - they should have thought of that, he should have been the one to do this.

But the light doesn't lie; Clark is fine, whole and unmarred by the damage that kind of contact should leave behind. His expression darkens; shock and panic took over where this kind of thing shouldn't even phase him anymore. "Your shoes. I see."

Yes, Clark, your SHOES. MADE OF LEAD.

[goodtothecore.livejournal.com]

There is, for a moment or two, an epic battle waged internally, between Clark's desire to tell his friend the truth and push back that darkness, close the gap between them at last - and what his parents have taught him to do since he was old enough to listen. He can hear Jonathon's hard, righteous tone warning him not to trust Lex, not to trust anyone with his secret, and he can see Martha's face creased with worry, afraid that he'll be taken away from them and experimented on.

Even though they're not here, the outcome of the conflict is inevitable.

"Yeah. Guess I was just lucky."