Till You're Tested	  Till You're Tested

 by Pablo

 Thanks to Yvette and zahra for the beta. 

 

  

 They say life's all about finding your strengths and using them. Or at
least learning to cope without having them. 

 If you'd asked him, only a matter of months ago what his were, Clark
probably would have had trouble telling you them exactly. Now it's a
little different, now he knows his strengths. It's a little hard not to
when you're this strong, this fast. 

 Yeah, Clark knows them well, almost as well as he knows his weaknesses,
but does that make him any stronger? Any more of a man than he was only a
year ago? That's when he laughs to himself, thinks how ironic it is that
he used to worry about fitting in, about being one of the crowd. He can't
get over the fact that when he thought that maybe, just maybe, things were
starting to work out, "this" happened. 

 It's got nothing to do with his newly acquired abilities. Nothing to do
with his "super-strength" or his "super-speed". It's all to do with him
and isn't it even more ironic that just when Clark was thinking he might
actually start fitting in, being normal, "this" happened? 

 Lex. 

 Walking on the way to school, bus missed. Again. But Clark wants to spend
this time thinking, doesn't bother getting to school before the bus
arrives. Decides for a change that he'll take this slowly, take this time
and use it. 

 Isn't sure it was such a good idea when he lets out another sigh. He's
always considered himself level-headed, but the way he's going, the level
of self pity that seems to be building and building inside of him seems to
be getting worse. 

 Thinking about things only means you have to face up to them, to test
your inner strength and he can't help but shake his head at the irony of
it all. 

 He's always worried about being strong. Has worried that he needs to keep
his strength up, not just physically but emotionally, because when you're
a teenager; the wounds that leave the deepest scars are never the physical
ones. Those always heal but the stigma of being an outsider will always
stay. 

 He's never really been that much of an outsider, no more than most //Not
like him.// but Clark's never really been that popular either. Except for
his brief stint recently, he's always shied away from sport. In a small
town that's enough to be branded an outsider, to be labelled a queer. 

 //And the irony just keeps on coming.// 

 Clark was pretty sure he'd settled in though. Freshman year of school and
everyone at least gives off the impression of maturity. Well, that's not
entirely true, but at least if you keep your head down you can avoid the
obvious situations. 

 Then things changed. Clark's best guess was that it was something to do
with him maturing. Not really the sort of thing you can just openly
discuss with the guidance councillor. //Yeah, I'm going through a few
changes. What, Puberty? No, X-Ray vision.// 

 But he's learned to hide that as well. To be strong. Strength of will the
one thing keeping him from running faster when all the other kids can see,
keeps him from showing his true strength. 

 No, Clark no longer worries about being strong enough physically. Now his
strength is required in other ways. More adult ways and isn't it so much
harder to control those urges? To control the way he feels when he sees
him, to control the way his stomach seemed to be doing somersaults when he
opened up that card and read those nine words. 

 //Forever in your debt. The maniac in the porsche// 

 A true test of his strength and Clark's not sure if he's strong enough to
pass this one. Not sure if he wants to, because when he sees Lex, things
just seem to be ... right? He can't really think of any other way to
describe it than that. 

 Things feel right. 

 It's so different from when he sees Lana, for so long he's wanted her to
acknowledge him, to be able to just walk up and talk to her. Now however
he realises that's not what he wants. 

 What he really wants when he walks up to Lana is to feel just like that.
To feel the same way that he does when he sees Lex. To not know whether he
wants to talk or to throw up. To not be able to speak because his tongue
feels so big in his mouth and he's not sure if the words he wants to say
even closely resemble English. To feel just like that, slightly nauseous
but without a doubt, even for a moment that he's in love. 

 //Wow.// 

 And now he's no longer walking. Book bag hanging limply off his shoulder
and he's come to a dead stop. All thoughts of walking to school lost,
because he's only thinking about one thing now, even more so than before.
Love. 

 Clark doesn't know whether that makes him strong or weak, but saying it
out loud to himself has made it so much more different. 

 //Is it love?// 

 He's not really sure but now he's starting to get that feeling bubbling
away inside him, the one that makes him have to sit down for fear of
falling on his ass. So he's pretty sure that, yeah maybe it is love? He's
never put that sort of label on things before and actually thought that he
might mean it. 

 On the way to school and by the side of the road, Clark has to stop. Just
stand there, leaning forward, hands resting along his thighs because he's
worried that he may fall over. Hard, backwards onto the gravel road. He
can't care less if he just lies there waiting for the next car to come
along because he realises now that he does have that strength, that
willpower to finally admit to himself how he feels. 

 A few deep breaths and he thinks he has it under control. Doesn't need a
mirror to know that he's got a grin from ear to ear. One of those ones
where it almost hurts because you're smiling so much but there's no way
you'll stop because you know that it's all worth it. 

 He starts walking again, reaches his hand in his pocket and removes the
violet coloured card from where he keeps it. Card moulded from where he's
kept it since that day, removes it whenever he changes his pants but it
always goes straight back there. Right hand pocket, slightly worn from
where he's had to fold it to fit it in. He keeps it hidden there, his
parents both think he threw it out that day. The day he had to give the
truck back to him, the day he couldn't accept that first gift. 

 Almost three thousand dollars per word but each of those crisply written
letters is worth so much more than $25000 of machinery. Worth more,
because they were from him. Not from his bank, or a car dealer, each of
those words were from Lex. 

 They think the card's gone, just like the truck, but Clark keeps it
there. He puts his hand in his pocket and when he feels the card against
his fingers he feels stronger, feels more able to cope with those
in-between times when he's not with Lex. The time that seems to drag on
for so long and to be so filled of nothing because all they're really
doing is breaking up the time that he's with him. Driving him crazy
because all he can do then is think of him, run his fingers along the card
and let his mind drift. 

 Clark starts walking again and keeps grinning. Curses himself as an idiot
in his head because it took him this long to realise how he felt, realised
consciously because when he plays back the last few days in his mind, it's
been pretty fucking obvious that he felt just like this. 

 the end   
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