The October Game
Christ, Old student in a new school
His arms hurt, his skin was freezing, and his whole body ached. He hadn't been up here very long, but the toll on his body was increasing. His boxer shorts weren't exactly great protection against the chill of the October late afternoon, in the middle of a cool change.
He called down some curses on the testosterone-poisoned jocks on the football team who'd strung him up like this, laughing as they emblazoned the red S on his chest. Just for the hell of it, he called down some really good curses on the sicko who'd invented this 'tradition' in the first place.
His head snapped up as far as it could, as he heard the corn rustle. For the first time in his life, he could understand why some people had been frightened by that children of the corn movie.
The rustling was louder, and closer now. Surely it couldn't be the football team back to laugh some more. He couldn't exactly see his watch, but they must be in the locker room at least by now. To think he'd actually wanted to try out for the team. Granted, it was to avoid being picked for this, but still...
The stalks parted, revealing the last person he would have expected. In sheer astonishment, he saw the bald head and urbane expression of Lex Luthor.
"Clark?" he called.
"Yeah, Lex," came the answer from behind him.
The boy on the stake tried to squirm around, to see a young man who looked a few years older - and half a foot taller - than himself come into view. The black hair, combined with the name 'Clark' enabled him to recognise Clark Kent. Despite his adult looks, Kent would only be a sophomore this year. Clark looked up and gave him a smile normally bestowed on people in cereal or toothpaste ads.
"Don't worry, we'll have you down from there in a second."
The Scarecrow blinked, too astonished to say much at all. Lex Luthor was gathering up his clothes, while Clark went to work on the ropes binding him.
"Tell me, Clark, how did this... charming tradition get started in the first place?" Luthor asked sarcastically.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I'd really like to string up whoever started this, though," Clark said, voice uncharacteristically grim.
The Scarecrow had enough energy to nod violently in agreement. Luthor noticed and gave him his trademark smirk. Oddly, it conveyed a feeling of sympathy; the Scarecrow wondered if maybe Luthor had been the victim of something like this in high school, himself.
The ropes around his legs went first, the ones around his arms and torso followed so quickly that he didn't have time to get his feet under him and fell on the ground in a heap. Clark hurried to help him up, supporting him while the blood rushed back to it's proper places and his energy returned. When he could stand on his own again, Luthor handed him his clothes a piece at a time without a word.
As he dressed, the Scarecrow told Clark breathlessly, "I owe you, man, big time."
Clark gave him another smile, and told him, "This time last year, I was up there where you were, but someone came along and rescued me," he turned to smile at Luthor, who smirked back. "This time next year, when someone else is up there, come along and help him."
As the Scarecrow nodded, Luthor interjected casually, "I'd advise you to go straight home. Any of the football team see you, they might not think you getting down before the game ends is as funny as you being up there in the first place."
The boy nodded emphatically as he tied his sneakers. He didn't have a date for the dance, anyway. He was going to his original plan; put a couple of bad martial arts movies in the VCR and munch popcorn and drink coke until he exploded.
Luthor looked at his watch, and said, "We should be heading over to the stadium, or your father will think I've kidnapped you."
Clark looked at him, smiled, and said gently, "We have a few minutes yet. Especially the way you drive."
As the Scarecrow left, he wondered at the warm tone of voice and what caused it. There had been vague talk about Clark Kent and Lex Luthor's friendship right from the start; even for Smallville, they were an odd pairing. He firmly shut off that line of thought. No matter what, the two of them had saved him from a bad time at best; the least he could do was mind his own business.
Exorcism
Lex turned to watch the hapless teen head off through the corn, and then asked Clark, "What was that about?"
Clark gave him the smile that always made Lex's heart thud harshly, in sheer, bone-deep astonishment at the knowledge that someone like this was his friend. "I asked you to come out with me tonight to help me exorcise a bad memory." Lex merely quirked an eyebrow and waited.
"But you have an even worse memory here, don't you Lex?"
Lex's face froze in instinctive self-defence. He was sure he'd never told Clark that little detail.
Clark leaned against the crosspiece of the Scarecrow stake, the very casualness of his actions showing how little he thought of it now. "You let something slip a while back about my not being the first Scarecrow you'd seen, and Pete's Dad told me once that the meteors hit just after Lionel signed the papers for the plant. The Rosses' had some thoughts about divine judgement for a while there."
Lex smirked in disbelief and ironic amusement, then it faded as Clark continued, "So then I knew where you'd been the day of the meteor shower - right here in Riley field. You must have seen Jeremy Creek up here."
Lex nodded. "That's why I was here to get you off that thing last year. I had to come back to the plant - I can't even remember now what I'd left here. I saw someone at the fence, and once I saw his face, it was like being back in that day, watching the black streak blazing across the sky, coming for me. That's when I heard you. I knew it must have been a figment of my imagination, but I still couldn't stop myself from coming out here. I had to see - what, I'm not sure. Then I found you here."
Lex's sombre mood cracked as he flashed Clark his most wicked smile, and added, "Must say, Clark, you looked much better strung up here than Creek did."
Clark blushed and looked at his feet, but didn't make a reply. Though unaware of his appeal, Clark did look in mirrors occasionally, and he wasn't completely blind. Lex strolled forward and leaned on the stake crosspiece next to Clark. "I did some research after I saw Creek that night. Any idea how he managed to grow to his real age between the time I saw him, and when the ambulance picked him up at the high school?"
Clark just looked up at the sky and shrugged. Lex just looked at Clark and gave another smirk. He hadn't really expected an answer to that one. "I presume this can stay between us?"
Clark nodded automatically. "I never told anyone about you being in Smallville that day anyway."
"That's not what I mean. With the effects on Creek not being permanent, I'm the first real meteor mutant, aren't I? I really don't want to end up on Chloe's wall, or my father seeing me there. I don't want my father to have an inkling about what the meteors can do to people. He does have sperm samples frozen, and a surrogate mother isn't really a big deal these days. Dad ever suspects the possible benefits, and he could easily find a position for me in a research laboratory."
Clark realized what Lex was really saying and choked. "You really think your own father would- "
He trailed off as Lex just met his gaze steadily.
Lex hoped that Clark caught the implications for his own safety as well. He still didn't know all of Clark's secrets, but he knew that the only real friend he'd ever made in his life had special abilities, and he had a fair idea about at least some of them. Enough to know that, like himself, Clark would be very valuable to unscrupulous people. If Lionel ever suspected the truth, he and Clark would be strapped down to matching lab tables before you could say 'vivisection'.
Without really noticing, Lex and Clark's hands edged towards each other on the crosspiece, the fingers intertwining and gripping, the same way a prisoner would grip the ladder or rope that lead to freedom.
Lex wondered if Clark had, or would later, realize what Lex had implied about himself. Lex had never told anyone that the meteors had done more than take his hair, and maybe his asthma. He'd done a full-scale analysis of his own DNA out of curiosity while in college, and the results had shocked him white. Luckily, someone would need a full genetic test to determine the changes, so nothing had ever shown up on the tests for physicals, and his father had never suspected the secrets he kept.
Lex and Clark watched the corn rustle in the late afternoon sun for a few minutes.
"So, are you okay with this place now?" Lex asked.
"Yeah, I am. You?"
"Absolutely. Thanks, Clark."
"Anytime."
West of October
Clark took a look at his parents and suppressed a sigh, Jonathan Kent was frowning again. He must have just seen Lex climbing the stairs behind Clark. Clark adjusted his grip on the popcorn and made sure the lid to his Coke was secure - it was only a few minutes left until kick-off, and the bleachers were packed. Wouldn't do to spill something over one of the neighbours!
Without asking questions, Lex quietly followed him up to where his parents and Lana were sitting. Pete, naturally, was down on the field with the team, as was Chloe; her sports reporter had broken his leg, so Chloe was filling in and grumbling all the while - the football team hadn't done anything interesting, in her view, since Coach Arnold had died last year.
Since Nell was running the Talon today, Lana had been invited to sit with the Kent's. Clark felt a smile lift the corners of his mouth as he saw her, though quite different from the way she'd once made him smile through the lens of his telescope; over the summer he and Lana had become real friends, until she was as close to him as Pete and Chloe. Not quite as close as Lex, of course - no one was, except his parents.
Lana's gaze slid behind him, and her own smile widened, probably from the highly unusual sight of Lex in jeans. Lex - after consultation with Clark about appropriate clothing - had dressed down for the occasion, meaning he wore a $150 pair of jeans with $200 boots, $90 T-shirt and $500 leather jacket. He did do them justice. But then, Lex looked good in anything. It seemed very unfair, when you were a teenager who got your clothes at sales, wore a lot of flannel, and still consulted your female friends for fashion advice.
Keeping Lana as an extra barrier between Lex and his Dad, Clark sat down and passed out the extra drinks, keeping his own and the popcorn.
"Where have you been, Clark? The game's going to start any minute." Jonathan gave a not-quite glare at Lex, making it obvious whom he thought was to blame for Clark's lateness. Clark sometimes thought that his Dad would blame Lex for the JFK assassination if he could.
"I asked Lex to help me with something," Clark replied cheerfully.
"Oh, what?" asked Lana, genuinely curious.
"We've been improving our karma," Lex told her. "Doing good deeds."
Jonathan shot Clark a look. Clark felt perfectly justified in shooting one back. Just how dumb did his Dad think he was?
Actually, this was one good deed that Clark was really proud of. This wasn't a job for someone with superpowers. This was something anyone could do - but no one did. When Clark stopped the meteor mutants, he did so more out of a sense of obligation and guilt - this he'd done simply because it was the right thing to do. Clark had discovered tonight that he liked helping people for it's own sake.
The school band played the opening fanfare, and Clark and Lex looked down at the football team running onto the field, then at each other. At the thought of the team's victim safe at home instead of in that cornfield, Clark smiled and Lex smirked. They turned to look at each other, and Clark saw the ghost of his own smile meld into Lex's smirk, feeling the corner of his own smile twist until he and Lex were wearing identical expressions. They clinked the cardboard rims of their drinks together and settled back to watch the game.
After all, no matter what your opinion on football in general, everyone in Smallville came to the Homecoming Game.