Author: MitchPell
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that has to do with Smallville; it’s characters, DC comics, or the WB. Nor do I own anything that has to do with the song “Midnight in Montgomery” by Alan Jackson. I’m just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun.
Authors Notes: Ok, I wrote this in like one hour. But, I did work on it for a while afterwards. This is a future fic, which was written for the LexSlash Halloween Contest.
Summary: Clark gets a chance to say he’s sorry.
Email: mitchpell@yahoo.com
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Clark could hear their nervous laughter, even though he was flying three miles above the ground, on his lonely vigil of the city. This had always been one of his least favorite nights of the year. No matter how many decades had pasted, this was still the night in which terror was allowed to rein free. Most of it was innocent enough. But there were more than enough times when the innocence was lost and people were severely hurt, or worse, killed. It always seemed like such a waste to Clark, that they would risk their lives, or threaten the lives of others for a cheap scare. Didn’t they realize how precious life was? He wondered. He certainly did, for he had lost more than he cared to remember.
With a sigh he adjusted his sight so he could look down upon them. The laughter seemed harmless enough, but one could never be too sure. As the picture came into focus, Clark could see a group of children running around a cemetery. Even from this distance he could make out the rolls of toilet paper, the cartons of eggs, and the cans of spray paint. The sight almost sickened him more than if it had been one of blood and carnage. To vandalize homes or businesses was one thing, but to desecrate the resting place of the dead infuriated him beyond belief.
Clark swooped down right into the middle of their stage of havoc. He could feel his blood boiling in his face as he crossed his arms across his chest, assuming his most opposing stance. The October wind whipped his red cape around him, and light of the full moon shone down upon him. The kids immediately stopped. Most dropped their weapons of vandalism and took off running. The others remained froze in place by fear. All accept one that is.
The young boy looked at Clark and snorted in disgust. “What’s your problem, Superman? Shouldn’t you have more pressing matters to tend to tonight?” He asked.
Clark stared at the boy in disbelief. “Have you no respect?” He asked.
He boy rolled his eyes. “Please, like they really care. They’re DEAD! Do you really think it makes one bit of difference to them?”
“I’m sure it does matter to them. Them and the ones that lost them.” Clark replied.
“Yeah, right.” The boy scoffed. Then, in an act of defiance he turned around to face the large tomb behind him. He took his can of spray paint and began to paint the grave.
Clark made to stop him, but was stilled by the eerie chiming of bells coming from a nearby church. He could hear the flight of birds as they fled the screaming tower. The light of the moon was blocked out by the cloudless sky, and a mist was blown in on the stagnant air. Clark shivered as a chill passed through him, causing him to want to wrap his cape around himself for warm. He faintly registered the drop of a spray can and the screams of fleeing children over the ringing to the bells. But he clearly heard the sound of a familiar laugh.
Then, almost as soon as it had come, the church tower stopped its piercing cries. The light of the moon pierced through its shroud in the purple sky, and some of the mist was carried away by a gentle breeze. Clark found himself standing alone in the middle of the cemetery. He slowly made his way over towards the tomb that the boy was painting, unable to shake the chill that had taken over him.
As he approached the grave, it began to look familiar. His breath caught as his eyes raked over the name engraved into the stone. His heart dropped from his chest, and he had to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. He slowly traced the letters that formed the name of his recently passed best friend, lover, and worst enemy. Clark caught the site of the paint on the marble. “Fuck Off Superman!” Was written there in bright orange. He could feel his face heating up, as his anger returned. He began to melt the paint off the stone with his laser vision, the heat evaporating his tears, when a laugh erupted from behind him.
He quickly turned around to see a pale shadowy figure, leaning up against one of the larger graves. He could tell it was wearing a suit, and that its hands were stuffed in the pockets of its black slacks. He had to blink his eyes a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But even then he wasn’t sure.
“Clark you looked surprised.” The all to familiar voice said. It cocked its head to the side, and raked its haunted eyes over his body. “Were you expecting someone else?”
Clark didn’t know what to say. He just stood there, mouth-gapping open at the figure before him. He watched as the specter pushed itself off the tomb and started making its way over towards him. He recognized the ease at which it walked, and as it got closer he could make out a dark purple shirt underneath the black coat.
The apparition didn’t stop until it stood beside him in front of the tomb. It chuckled as it read the painted words. “Well, at least it’s appropriate.” It turned to look at Clark. “Sounds like something I would have said.”
Clark couldn’t bring himself to say anything. All he could do is stare. So many things had been left between them. Clark had only found out shortly before Lex’s death that he had been wrong. He had been wrong about everything. Lex hadn’t been the monster Clark had made him out to be. And at the end, he hadn’t been able to save him. Lex had died in his arms. And now that he was standing there, in front of him, giving him this chance to clear things between them, Clark couldn’t force out the words.
The ghost laughed again. “Better shut your mouth, Clark. You might catch something unpleasant.” It turned back to look at the tomb again. “Despite everything we’ve been through, Clark. It’s good to see you again.” It gestured towards the melted paint. “And it’s nice to know you still care.”
“Lex.” Clark said, his voice laced with anguish, and his cheeks streaked with tears.
“Sshh.” Lex soothed as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears. “It’s alright, Clark.”
Clark closed his eyes and leaned into the cold touch. He even thought he could smell Lex’s cologne. It seemed so real, and he couldn’t help but pray that it was. The wind around him picked up again, making his cape bellow around him. And he opened his eyes to find himself alone.
~~~
Midnight in Montgomery
Silver eagle lonely road
I was on my way to Mobile
For a big New Year’s Eve show
I stopped for just a minute
To see a friend outside of town
Put my collar up
I found his name
And felt the wind die down
Then a drunk man in a cowboy hat
Took me by surprise
Wearing shiny boots
A Nudi suit
And haunting haunted eyes
He said friend it’s good to see you
It’s nice to know you care
Then the wind picked up
And he was gone
Or was he ever really there?
Because it’s midnight in Montgomery
Just hear that whippoorwill
See the stars light up the purple sky
Feel that lonesome chill
Because when the wind is right
You’ll here his song
Smell whiskey in the air
Midnight in Montgomery
He’s always singing there
~~~
Clark looked around him frantically. Not wanting to believe that it had all been a dream, a figment of his imagination. But there was no trace of Lex. The only thing that remained was the lingering feeling that Clark had on his cheek, and the faint smell of his cologne.
He made quick work of cleaning up the rest of the cemetery. Ridding the graves of egg, paper, and paint. He made sure to leave Lex’s tomb till the end. He removed the offensive writing with painstaking care, making sure that the fine marble wasn’t scotched by the heat of his vision. When he was finished, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the cold stone. “I’m so sorry, Lex.” He whispered. A strong gust of wind whipped past him, and the call of a bird caused him to look up into the empty purple sky.
When Clark returned his gaze to the tomb, he caught the site of something out of the corner of his eye. He looked down to see a small button setting there in front of the grave. With a slightly trembling hand, Clark reached out and picked it up. He recognized it immediately. It was off of the shirt Lex had worn the first time they had made love. He had been sixteen and so nervous that he had ripped Lex’s shirt open, causing it to lose quiet a few of the buttons. Lex had given it to Clark on their first year anniversary. He remembered Lex saying it was a symbol of their love. He also remembered throwing it in his face when he had stormed out on Lex that fateful night.
Clark caressed the small piece of ivory between fingers. And he knew. Lex had forgiven him. Clark wiped the tears out of his eyes. Then rose up off the ground. He looked around one more time. He thought he caught the site of a shadow moving slowly through the light the moon shown on the ground. But though he looked in earnest, he couldn’t find its maker.
In the distance he heard the light sound of expensive shoes falling on the hard concrete then the low whine of a car engine.
The sense of loneliness that filled him was almost too much to bear. After a final glance towards the tomb, he blew a kiss towards it then flew off into the night.
~~~
I climbed back on that eagle
Took one last look around
In red tail lights
A shadow moved slow across the ground
And off somewhere a midnight train
Slowly passing by
I could here that whistle moaning
I’m so lonesome I could cry
Because it’s midnight in Montgomery
Just hear the whippoorwill
See the stars light up the purple sky
Feel that lonesome chill
Because when the wind is right
You’ll hear his song
Smell whiskey in the air
Midnight in Montgomery
He’s always singing there
He’s always singing there
~~~
The End.
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