by victoria p.
// // indicates memories
Clark lay in the grass. This was it, the end of life as he knew it.
He watched from a distance as the trucks rolled away from the farm. He knew he should be there, be the pillar of strength for his mother, but he wanted his freedom, his childhood, to last just a few moments longer.
Everything Jonathan had worked for -- gone, lost in the weakness of what had been his greatest strength. His heart had given out one morning as he'd been working in the fields.
The sun glinted off the fields, giving everything a greenish gold glaze. Clark tried to soak it all in.
He closed his eyes and remembered
//First kiss with Chloe in the barn in eighth grade.
Staring at Lana through the telescope night after night, dreaming of something he could never have, and didn't want once he'd gotten it.
Saving Lex on the riverbank. The taste of river water and the white-hot pulse of unexpected lust, starting the dance of lies and half-truths that led to this day.
Playing Nintendo with Pete.
Unmasking meteor mutants.
Chloe's smile lighting up the room.
Fencing with Lex after Lex's decision to stay in Smallville.
Lex's kiss sending lightning along his veins, the feel of his scalp cool and slick under Clark's hands. Tentative fumblings on the old couch in the barn, followed up with Lex's more practiced hands at the Castle, away from the prying eyes of parents and friends.//
His hand drifted to his crotch, and his eyes snapped open.
He wasn't going to lie here and jerk-off while the bank foreclosed on his house, his future, his family.
But the thought was oh-so-appealing. One last hurrah, let his childhood go out with a bang, and he could hear Lex groaning at the pun.
His mother had demanded his word that he wouldn't call Lex back to save them from this. He knew -- they both knew -- that Lex would save the farm, save the family, but it would be contrary to Jonathan's wishes, and Martha at least wanted to see her husband's wishes fulfilled, even at the expense of her home, and her son's.
Clark didn't, couldn't understand it. And he'd said so, time and again over the past week. At the hospital. The funeral parlor. The church and the graveyard.
This morning he'd left the house before they could have the conversation again.
Lex would be only too happy to save the farm, Mom.
Lex would be only too happy to spite his father, she would say.
Isn't that what Dad would have wanted, to finally get back at Lionel Luthor through his only son?
She would purse her lips and turn away, eyes filled with tears, and he knew he was right, but she'd promised and he'd promised and //a Kent never breaks his word, son.//
Fathers and sons were what it all came down to, and his mother simply couldn't understand that.
So Clark lay in the grass, awaiting the end of the summer of his life.
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