Title: More Than a Sandwich (Nourishment 3.5)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
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Category: Vignette, angst, Lex POV
Spoilers: Post-ep for "Shattered"
Rating: R for language and adult content
Pairing: Clark/Lex established relationship
Summary: Ravings of a madman, or are they?
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Smallville is the property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The rest of "The Nourishment Series" can be found elsewhere on this archive - Enjoy!
AUTHOR'S NOTE ADDITIONAL (just in case): The title plays with that of a novel by Alice Childress called "A Hero Ain't Nothin' But a Sandwich".
DEDICATION: For Tiff, who helps me every single day.
COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, March 18, 2004, firstname.lastname@example.org
Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.
Clark is my hero.
No one can take away from me what I know about him. He is fast and strong and beautiful and he is mine.
He will come for me. I trust no one but Clark to save me from this place, and have faith that whatever is keeping him, he is working towards that goal every single day. That last day before they brought me here, he was so careful with me, so devoted and so supportive, I know he's doing everything he can to help me. I love him so much...
My father claims to have my best interests at heart, but I rather doubt I can really trust him. After all, I'm pretty sure he murdered his own parents--my grandparents. Something isn't right here, and I don't mean me. I know better than to take those tranquilizers they keep giving me, that is, if I can avoid it. When they come at you with a needle, they tie you down if you fight them. So I'm hanging on to what I know to keep myself sane.
I know now that Clark is something other than human. It would be the end of everything were I to breathe a word of this secret to anyone here. Nobody could touch him, of course, but they'd be even more convinced that I was crazy. And who could blame them for that mistake, even if I have witnessed his power firsthand? There can't be a boy who can destroy a car just by standing in its path, then walk away like nothing happened. You can't shoot someone at point blank range without protective armor and watch the bullets fall away, crushed and useless. Any sensible person would know that these things are impossible. The doctors would tell me that they can't be true.
But they are true. I'd deduced that Clark could do amazing, unexplainable things before. I've been keeping tabs on him ever since I met him, but just because he is so fascinating. Now all of the confusing pieces of the puzzle fit together. If only I could get to my study data now to compare my suspicions to my new evidence--that is if I were even sure it was all still there. Why can't I remember the last time I went down there? I showed it to Helen before we got married. Did she do anything to it? Did she give it to my father, or to someone else, maybe someone who got her to do the things she did to me?
For God's sake, I hope that my collection hasn't fallen into the wrong hands! Never do I want my priceless Clark to come to any harm. I have to protect him from my father, even if I cannot protect myself from the man. We have each other's backs, though: the fact that he wasn't afraid to show me his true nature proves that there is strength in both of us knowing about it.
My biggest regret is that I was taken away so fast after working it all out. I wish I could have sat and asked him for answers to all of my questions, then taken him home to make love one last time. Here was this huge thing binding us together, more amazing than our love, and I was torn between telling my doctor all about it and keeping it secret for Clark's sake. Later I came to my senses, of course, and realized that I needed to help him hide from all of the people who won't understand. Helluva lot of good I can do to help him from here...
Sometimes they tell me I'm not being cooperative, which is fine, since all I really want to do is get out. Isn't that indication enough that I'm not crazy? My lover will help me--I just know it. I only hope that my rescue is easier for him out there than it is for me in here.
I need to see him. I have to touch him. I want him to touch me. Oh, good--I'm getting hard just thinking about him. At least I'm in bed, and they can't do anything to me here. What the hell have they got against masturbation in the privacy of one's room, anyway? It's really irritating how closely they watch you in this place, so if they catch you jacking off, they give you things so you forget you've got a dick. But they can't do anything to you if you have a wet dream while you're asleep, now, can they? They usually don't even blink if my sheets are sticky when I wake up. It's only natural, you know.
Maybe I can just imagine him jerking me, and pretend he's really here. No matter how strong he may be, he is always gentle with me, unless of course I don't want him to be. Soon, my sweet boy--soon you can take me in your luscious mouth and suck me like you love to do. Look up at me with those amazing eyes... Are there any special skills you can do with those eyes, aside from telling me you love me without a word? Oh, god, Clark! How long until you fuck me again? I can't wait any more! Oh, Jesus, yes. Please, Clark, please... Do it. Oh, shit...
Yeah, that's better. Maybe I can sleep now, and dream of my baby coming to save me at last.
Clark will always be my hero. My precious, superhuman lover will get me out of here. I'll know I'm not crazy as long as I believe that...
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