Crossroads - Chapter 1

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, PG-13

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Clark collapsed on the mansion steps, clutching his middle, fighting off the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t been sick so far, but suddenly it was as though realization of every problem he was trying to deny had hit him with one sucker-punch to the gut.

No mistake: he was going to hurl.

Thank God neither of them had seen him, was the one thought he held on to as he struggled in the grip of dry heaves worse than the throes of the most powerful kryptonite attack.

It was bad enough being an alien, having to hide secrets from everyone he loved. Those secrets had already driven an inexorable rift between Lex and him, a rift that would never be repaired. He’d tried to escape and solace himself with Lana for awhile, but now he’d driven her away, too—and straight into Lex’s arms. It sucked, seeing both your exes go at each other like that, as though they were trying to swallow each other’s tongues. With you just standing unnoticed, watching, hurting and alone.

He stood up and grasped the porch pillar, tried to drive the image from his mind, to keep his stomach from contracting again, but he couldn’t do it. He fell to his knees on the ground and gasped, choking, wrenching handfuls of grass in his agony.

He was almost glad his dad was dead, because if he was still alive, Jonathan would kill him, superpowers or not. And then kill Lex. Mom wouldn’t hate him for what had happened, but he knew she’d be shocked and horrified. If anyone even believed him. But they’d have to, in time. He couldn’t hide it forever. Already, he could barely zip his jeans, and he’d had to stop trying to fasten the top button two weeks ago.

Lex had always been there to help in the past, but he couldn’t help him now, even if they were still friends. Which they weren't.

Now that Lex and Lana were together, how was he going to tell Lex that he was pregnant with his kid?

**

By the time Clark rose to his feet, the sun was sinking in the west and the grass was wet with dew. He wiped bitter fluid from his mouth with the side of his palm and spat into the grass. Even though he didn’t usually get cold, he shivered and zipped his denim jacket up to his chin. Still too queasy for superspeed, he scuffed out of the gate in the springtime dusk and down paved Beresford Lane to the country road that led to his place, shoving balled fists into his jacket pockets as he walked.

Finding out at the beginning of freshman year that he was an alien was a cakewalk compared to this. He’d x-rayed himself and there was no mistake. Horrified, he’d seen the embryo nestled under his ribs, so small he’d needed telescopic vision to detect it. There was no way to stop it growing, getting bigger. It was there.

How it was all going to unfold, he had no clue. He did know he was scared silly.

There were no books he could check out from the library on how to have a baby if you were from an alien planet. He wouldn’t be able to have caesarean operation because his skin was invulnerable. He certainly wasn’t built for giving birth in the normal way.
He was male, or at least closer to a male than a female human. There was no one from his planet to tell him if this was normal on Krypton—maybe Dr. Swann might have been able to, but he was dead.

He was trapped. The baby would grow and grow, and when it was time for it to be born, it wouldn’t be able to get out. It would die, or he would die, or they’d both die.

He was scared, so scared. And he just wanted Lex’s arms around him, Lex to say, in the warm, soothing voice he hadn’t heard in so long, “Hey, Clark, it’ll be all right.”

He winced at the keen stab of pain that struck somewhere around his heart, and turned to look back over the darkening fields to where the manor lay. He wouldn’t let himself think about whether Lex and Lana might still be there, what they might be doing.

Damn it, Lex, I miss you so much.

It was nearly dark when he reached home. He turned in at the drive and peered at the house. The windows were dark. At one time Mom would have had dinner ready for him when he got home, but now she was too busy with her new duties. Probably wasn’t even back from Metropolis. Just as well: he wasn’t hungry, anyway. He still felt sick.

Mom couldn’t help him. No one could help him. He’d never felt so alone.

He was crying by the time he reached the front porch.

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