Title: Infected
Rating: T
Author: SilverSnikle
Character: Clark
Timeline: Clark Luthor's Seventeenth Birthday
Warnings: Luthor-verse
Disclaimer: Borrowed characters and some dialogue... No affiliation to CW/WB, DC
Summary: My take on Clark Luthor's descent into darkness.
Feedback: Oh, yes please!
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- Chapter 3 -
Clark
unwraps the red and black package, noting that the color scheme
matches the entire party, as well as himself. For a moment he wonders
if Tess actually picked out the present, or if Lionel governed over
it, signing her name to it. He glances at her, studying her eyes, and
knows from her nervous smile the gift inside is of her own choosing.
He thinks the grin on his face must resemble the Cheshire Cat. Clark
the Cat. He laughs again.
He opens the box and stops. He can't help but stare, mesmerized by the small cylindrical item inside. He wants to place the lid back over it and keep it from his father's disapproving eyes. Part of him envies Tess's ability to outright oppose their father. Lionel doesn't like Clark investigating his origins. He prefers to be the person with all the knowledge, giving Clark snippets here and there as he sees fit. Lionel knows, knowledge is power.
Lionel notices the hesitation, "Come on, Son, show us what you've gotten." Lionel's eyes twinkle and Clark thinks he'd like to burn holes through them. Just knowing he could eases Clark's anger, slightly.
He lifts the small wooden telescope out of the safety of its box and holds it up for the table to see.
"Oh, how beautiful." Lex's smile is sincere, and Clark knows why.
"Yes, beautiful indeed." Lionel's eyes have lost their spark, which only makes Clark smile brighter as he slips the gift inside his breast pocket.
"Oh, please open mine next." Lex nods at the suit, who produces a slightly larger present to Clark.
Curiosity courses through Clark's veins every year when he is handed Lex's present. He keeps waiting for a kryptonite bomb to go off. He's disappointed again when a book is revealed under the wrapping. Clark studies it momentarily. Hamlet. Clark laughs and nods to Lex as if to say "Well played." They may not be very friendly, but they uphold a certain aspect of respect for each other. That said, it's bit of an ongoing joke between them to gift each other books about brothers killing each other.
"And of course, we have reached the pivotal moment!" Lionel actually clasps his hands together in anticipation. Clark fights the urge to roll his eyes, as juvenile an act as it would be. Lionel's gifts never really live up to their hype. Clark fully expects this year to be no exception.
He places an inquisitive look on his face and waits. Lionel pulls the gift from his pocket. Clark is amazed, that in itself is much different from Lionel's usual theatrics. He's also a little surprised to see it’s the same lead jewelry box from that morning. He had been expecting a "public" gift at the party, and the "private" gift later. Seems this year they would be one and the same. Clark raises an eyebrow as he takes the small box from Lionel's hand.
Clark looks at his siblings and draws in a breath. On a few of his birthdays, Lionel has introduced him to different forms of Kryptonite. That's the technical name they had given the meteors which had followed his ship to Earth, actual pieces of his home planet Krypton.
On his tenth birthday, he'd gotten a lead box Lionel told him had been "forged from the armor of St. George, a dragon slayer, who put into the box his strength, faith, fears, and doubts." When Clark had, naturally, opened the box he had been hit with a wave of pain, the likes of which he'd never known. The small green rock inside had glowed brightly, and the pain had not subsided until Clark had shut the lid on the box again.
Two years later, Clark had received a gorgeous watch. It had been the first birthday present which had actually appealed to his sense of style. The face had been a brilliant blue color and Clark had been excited to wear it. Later that night he'd ended up in an altercation with Lex. When Lex's fist connected with his jaw, inflicting a throbbing pain, he panicked. He had run to Lionel, confused and scared. Lionel gave him a speech on blue Kryptonite. It evidently takes his powers away temporarily while he's exposed to it, essentially making him human. Clark still had the watch, stored safely inside the St. George box.
"Well, go ahead, Clark." Lionel made a 'get on with it' gesture.
Clark opens the box, his brow creasing at the piece of jewelry it holds. He pulls it closer to his eyes and examines the ring. He should have known Lionel's gift would play into the "red" theme. It's a gold band holding a sizable asscher cut Ruby. Upon closer examination, Clark can see the Luther "L" ingrained into the middle of the stone. He smiles despite himself. Red is one of his favorite colors, after all.
Forgetting all the reasons to be wary, Clark moves to pull the ring from its snug box. He knows it's in a lead box (a warning sign), yet he cannot stop himself from the urge put it on. A hand covers over the ring before he can touch it.
Clark looks up into Lionel's eyes, confused. Why give him the ring if he wouldn't let him wear it? Clark knows he is being careless. So far, every form of Kryptonite he's been exposed to has had a negative effect on him. Maybe he just wants to get it over with. From experience, it only affects him when near him or, like the blue, when in close contact with his skin. Since he is holding the ring's box, red must be the same as the blue. He would have to wear the ring for it to affect him, same as he has to wear the blue watch to lose his powers.
Clark thinks about ignoring Lionel's hand and putting on the ring regardless of what his father wants. Then he thinks about the other small lead box kept in a different pocket of Lionel's coat, one that holds a green rock. Clark snaps the lid shut on the jewelry box, smiling to himself as Lionel yanks his hand out of the way. He loves surprising the older man.
"Alright, well... Let's mingle!" Lionel spreads a hand into an open gesture, moving his family back inside to the party.
Clark leads them again, through the open glass doors, into the open space of the club. He is greeted by hand after hand to shake. He smiles brightly, as he's been trained, and nods appropriately, thanking them all for attending his party. He knows the rest of his family is doing the same. They put on their public masks, smiling, patting each other on the shoulder, smiling proudly at each other. The Luthors are great actors, upholding the illusion of a tight family bond. Clark hates the charades. He and Lex have found ways to take jabs at each other, all while appearing to be good-natured, "normal" brothers.
Clark's attention is pulled away from the young woman he's talking to, the daughter of some rich politician, when he hears a voice in the crowd. It takes him a few seconds to realize it's the same voice he heard arguing with security at the doors. Either she talked her way past them, or she found a way to sneak in. He let the corner of his lips lift upward.
"Would you excuse me? So sorry, I just have to..." There is no need to finish the sentence, both parties understand he is just politely ending the conversation to move on.
As he glides through the crowd, smiling at unfamiliar faces, he swipes two glasses of champagne off a server's platter. He shakes his head, making his long locks fall loosely around his face. He knows the messy look is much more attractive than the perfectly combed one.
"Couldn't help but overhear the scuffle earlier..." He smiles as she lifts her head, recognition accumulating in her eyes. He sees a flash of worry, but it's quickly replaced with determination. He raises an eyebrow. "Chloe, is it?" He holds out one of the glasses to her.
She stares at it quizzically. Her hesitation humors him, but it hurts too. She thinks he's baiting her, and maybe he is. He honestly isn't sure what he's doing, why he's drawn to her. But his curiosity is getting the best of him.
"Go ahead, it isn't poisoned. A death would certainly ruin the party, and drugging you would only result in a negative story on the front page of tomorrow's paper..." He pushes the glass a little closer to her.
He opens the box and stops. He can't help but stare, mesmerized by the small cylindrical item inside. He wants to place the lid back over it and keep it from his father's disapproving eyes. Part of him envies Tess's ability to outright oppose their father. Lionel doesn't like Clark investigating his origins. He prefers to be the person with all the knowledge, giving Clark snippets here and there as he sees fit. Lionel knows, knowledge is power.
Lionel notices the hesitation, "Come on, Son, show us what you've gotten." Lionel's eyes twinkle and Clark thinks he'd like to burn holes through them. Just knowing he could eases Clark's anger, slightly.
He lifts the small wooden telescope out of the safety of its box and holds it up for the table to see.
"Oh, how beautiful." Lex's smile is sincere, and Clark knows why.
"Yes, beautiful indeed." Lionel's eyes have lost their spark, which only makes Clark smile brighter as he slips the gift inside his breast pocket.
"Oh, please open mine next." Lex nods at the suit, who produces a slightly larger present to Clark.
Curiosity courses through Clark's veins every year when he is handed Lex's present. He keeps waiting for a kryptonite bomb to go off. He's disappointed again when a book is revealed under the wrapping. Clark studies it momentarily. Hamlet. Clark laughs and nods to Lex as if to say "Well played." They may not be very friendly, but they uphold a certain aspect of respect for each other. That said, it's bit of an ongoing joke between them to gift each other books about brothers killing each other.
"And of course, we have reached the pivotal moment!" Lionel actually clasps his hands together in anticipation. Clark fights the urge to roll his eyes, as juvenile an act as it would be. Lionel's gifts never really live up to their hype. Clark fully expects this year to be no exception.
He places an inquisitive look on his face and waits. Lionel pulls the gift from his pocket. Clark is amazed, that in itself is much different from Lionel's usual theatrics. He's also a little surprised to see it’s the same lead jewelry box from that morning. He had been expecting a "public" gift at the party, and the "private" gift later. Seems this year they would be one and the same. Clark raises an eyebrow as he takes the small box from Lionel's hand.
Clark looks at his siblings and draws in a breath. On a few of his birthdays, Lionel has introduced him to different forms of Kryptonite. That's the technical name they had given the meteors which had followed his ship to Earth, actual pieces of his home planet Krypton.
On his tenth birthday, he'd gotten a lead box Lionel told him had been "forged from the armor of St. George, a dragon slayer, who put into the box his strength, faith, fears, and doubts." When Clark had, naturally, opened the box he had been hit with a wave of pain, the likes of which he'd never known. The small green rock inside had glowed brightly, and the pain had not subsided until Clark had shut the lid on the box again.
Two years later, Clark had received a gorgeous watch. It had been the first birthday present which had actually appealed to his sense of style. The face had been a brilliant blue color and Clark had been excited to wear it. Later that night he'd ended up in an altercation with Lex. When Lex's fist connected with his jaw, inflicting a throbbing pain, he panicked. He had run to Lionel, confused and scared. Lionel gave him a speech on blue Kryptonite. It evidently takes his powers away temporarily while he's exposed to it, essentially making him human. Clark still had the watch, stored safely inside the St. George box.
"Well, go ahead, Clark." Lionel made a 'get on with it' gesture.
Clark opens the box, his brow creasing at the piece of jewelry it holds. He pulls it closer to his eyes and examines the ring. He should have known Lionel's gift would play into the "red" theme. It's a gold band holding a sizable asscher cut Ruby. Upon closer examination, Clark can see the Luther "L" ingrained into the middle of the stone. He smiles despite himself. Red is one of his favorite colors, after all.
Forgetting all the reasons to be wary, Clark moves to pull the ring from its snug box. He knows it's in a lead box (a warning sign), yet he cannot stop himself from the urge put it on. A hand covers over the ring before he can touch it.
Clark looks up into Lionel's eyes, confused. Why give him the ring if he wouldn't let him wear it? Clark knows he is being careless. So far, every form of Kryptonite he's been exposed to has had a negative effect on him. Maybe he just wants to get it over with. From experience, it only affects him when near him or, like the blue, when in close contact with his skin. Since he is holding the ring's box, red must be the same as the blue. He would have to wear the ring for it to affect him, same as he has to wear the blue watch to lose his powers.
Clark thinks about ignoring Lionel's hand and putting on the ring regardless of what his father wants. Then he thinks about the other small lead box kept in a different pocket of Lionel's coat, one that holds a green rock. Clark snaps the lid shut on the jewelry box, smiling to himself as Lionel yanks his hand out of the way. He loves surprising the older man.
"Alright, well... Let's mingle!" Lionel spreads a hand into an open gesture, moving his family back inside to the party.
Clark leads them again, through the open glass doors, into the open space of the club. He is greeted by hand after hand to shake. He smiles brightly, as he's been trained, and nods appropriately, thanking them all for attending his party. He knows the rest of his family is doing the same. They put on their public masks, smiling, patting each other on the shoulder, smiling proudly at each other. The Luthors are great actors, upholding the illusion of a tight family bond. Clark hates the charades. He and Lex have found ways to take jabs at each other, all while appearing to be good-natured, "normal" brothers.
Clark's attention is pulled away from the young woman he's talking to, the daughter of some rich politician, when he hears a voice in the crowd. It takes him a few seconds to realize it's the same voice he heard arguing with security at the doors. Either she talked her way past them, or she found a way to sneak in. He let the corner of his lips lift upward.
"Would you excuse me? So sorry, I just have to..." There is no need to finish the sentence, both parties understand he is just politely ending the conversation to move on.
As he glides through the crowd, smiling at unfamiliar faces, he swipes two glasses of champagne off a server's platter. He shakes his head, making his long locks fall loosely around his face. He knows the messy look is much more attractive than the perfectly combed one.
"Couldn't help but overhear the scuffle earlier..." He smiles as she lifts her head, recognition accumulating in her eyes. He sees a flash of worry, but it's quickly replaced with determination. He raises an eyebrow. "Chloe, is it?" He holds out one of the glasses to her.
She stares at it quizzically. Her hesitation humors him, but it hurts too. She thinks he's baiting her, and maybe he is. He honestly isn't sure what he's doing, why he's drawn to her. But his curiosity is getting the best of him.
"Go ahead, it isn't poisoned. A death would certainly ruin the party, and drugging you would only result in a negative story on the front page of tomorrow's paper..." He pushes the glass a little closer to her.
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