《Raising a Mutant: A Young Superman (and friends) Hurt/Comfort Adoption Fic》Chapter 40: Fighting
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Before Lex had come to stay with them, Clark had always told Pete that he was lucky to have older brothers. Pete always told him he was lucky not to have any. After meeting Lex, Clark didn't understand what Pete was talking about.
Then Lex got stupid.
It started during Christmas break. Clark was so excited to have two whole weeks with no school or homework. He would still have to do his chores, but other than that, he could play with his older brother all day, every day! It got even better when he looked out the window on that first Saturday afternoon—there was snow on the ground outside! Clark's dad never let him have snowball fights with his friends, because he might end up showing off his powers, but Lex already knew about his powers. Lex could remind Clark to keep being gentle, and he could finally have his first real snowball fight.
Clark raced up the stairs to Lex's room to tell him, but Lex had a couple of his friends from school in his room. That was okay—they could all play together.
"Hey Lex! It's snowing!"
Lex wasn't nearly as excited as Clark was hoping. "Yeah. It's December."
"We should have a snowball fight!"
"I'm with my friends right now."
Clark bounced on his toes. "Let's all play together!"
"Nah, a snowball fight with the four of us could get a little rough. Not sure your parents would be okay with it."
Clark knew Lex was probably right about that, since Clark wasn't allowed to have snowball fights with anyone outside of the family. "We could build snowmen. Or make snow angels."
Lex glanced over his shoulder at his friends, who were watching him. "That stuff's for babies. Go ask your mom to play with you."
Clark's shoulders slumped. "But Le-ex!"
"Leave us alone, Clark. I've got my other friends over."
"I like you better than my other friends!"
"Okay, but I'm around you all the time. I'm only with my friends for today."
"Well, can I hang out in here?"
Lex's head dropped back. "Fine, fine, just . . . be quiet and stay out of our way."
Clark stepped into the room slowly. His friends weren't even doing anything. One of the guys was listening to music on his head phones, another one was flipping through a comic book. Lex himself lay on his bed and picked up a tennis ball. He tossed it into the air and caught it, over and over.
Teenagers were boring. Clark paced a little, then he sat down on the carpet. He made a little popping noise with his mouth, then a louder one.
"Clark," Lex said.
"What?" Clark made another popping noise.
"You're being annoying on purpose."
"No, I'm not. I'm just having fun. Like you guys." Clark made the noise again, then again, louder.
Lex's voice lowered to a whisper. "Go away, Clark. Please?"
Clark stuck out his lower lip and crossed his arms, stomping all the way to his room and slamming the door behind him. He plunked down on his bed and sulked.
His mom was in his doorway a minute later, her hands on her hips. "Clark, what's the rule about slamming doors in the house?"
"Lex is being mean!"
His mom dropped her arms and frowned. "What did he do?"
"He likes his friends more than me."
"He said that?" Her eyebrows raised.
"Well . . . no . . . but he doesn't want to play with me. He just wants to play with them. And they're not even doing anything!"
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She let her breath out and came to sit beside him. "Lex is a teenager, sweetie. He needs time with his big kid friends."
"But it's the first snow."
"I know, but there will be lots more snow this season. You can play with Lex when his friends go home."
Clark kicked his feet a little. "Can you make his friends go home now?"
"Their parents are coming to pick them up in a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours?" That was forever!
"You can play in the snow by yourself for a little while. You played by yourself all last winter."
"I didn't even have a brother then!"
"Exactly." His mom stood from his bed.
Clark sighed and put on a jacket. He didn't really need it, but she would nag him about it if he didn't wear one. She held out a hand, but he ignored it and just walked beside her. He didn't need Lex or his teenager friends to see him holding his mom's hand like a baby.
Out in the snow, Clark managed to mostly forget about Lex for a little while. He ran around, made snow angels, built a snowman, and threw snowballs into the air. Before long, he'd made a muddy mess out of the driveway—the snow wasn't really thick enough to be playing much, and it definitely wasn't enough to pull out his sled yet—but it was still fun.
His mom called him in for dinner, and he wiped off his dirty shoes before going to sit across from Lex at the table. That's when he remembered he was still mad at Lex for ignoring him. He quietly began picking at the food his mom served up to him, until his dad gave him a stern look and he sat up a little straighter, eating normally.
"Can you pass the butter, Clark?" Lex asked.
Clark made a face. "Why don't you get your big kid friends to do it?"
"Clark," his dad said, in a voice that meant he was going to be in trouble soon.
"Fine." Clark sighed and handed over the butter.
"Thanks," Lex said.
Clark didn't talk for the rest of the meal. His parents talked a little to each other, but he mostly snuck glares at Lex when his dad wasn't looking. Unfortunately, Lex wasn't really looking, either.
After dinner, Clark took up his station drying dishes, waiting for Lex to come over to wash.
Lex shook his head. "I'm drying tonight."
"No. You dried last night."
"That doesn't count. There were only, like, two dishes last night."
"It doesn't matter! We take turns!"
"Lex," their dad said, "you're washing tonight."
Lex groaned. "Jonathan."
"If you'd rather argue with me, you can wash and dry."
"Ha!" Clark said.
Clark's dad turned to him. "Clark, you can get up early tomorrow and muck out stalls, if you're going to mock your brother."
Clark's cheeks felt hot. He glared up at Lex, and this time, Lex glared back.
It was extra difficult to get through the dishes without breaking anything with his strength.
After dishes, Clark raced over to the couch. He looked around for the remote, but Lex came in and took it out of his pocket.
"You watch baby shows every night," Lex said. "It's my turn."
"That's because Mom and Dad let you stay up later, so you get to watch TV after I'm in bed."
"Like they'd let me watch anything that comes on that late."
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Clark pouted. "You're not being fair."
"I had to wash the dishes tonight, and you barely had to do anything last night. You're not fair."
"You stole the remote before dinner and put it in your pocket!"
Lex raised an eyebrow. "You have super speed. How else am I supposed to compete with that?"
Clark lunged for the remote. Lex held it back, and Clark ended up knocking him over on accident, and the remote skittered across the floor. Lex scrambled to his feet, and Clark went straight for the remote—but his mom had already come in to pick it up.
"What has gotten into you two?" she yelled.
Clark smoothed out his clothes. "Lex stole the remote!"
Lex rolled his eyes. "He gets it every night."
His mom said, "I've had it with this fighting. No TV for either of you tonight."
Clark's jaw dropped. "But Mom!"
"See?" Lex turned to glower at Clark. "Now you've wrecked things for both of us."
"You're the one who stole the remote in the first place!"
Lex looked away, shaking his head. "You've been impossible all day."
"You wouldn't play with me!"
"I play with you every single day, Clark! You couldn't leave me alone for two hours to hang out with my friends?"
"It was the first snow! You missed it 'cause you were being a stupid teenager!" Clark's voice cracked.
"And you don't understand anything because you're a stupid baby!"
That really hurt. Clark felt tears in his eyes, but he couldn't let them out—then Lex would really think he was a baby.
"BOYS."
Clark jumped, startled. He hadn't even noticed his dad come into the room. Clark hadn't seen him look so angry since the time Clark had tried to drive the tractor on his own.
"Up to my room. Now."
Clark jumped to obey, followed by Lex. His heart felt like it was pounding a million times a second. His dad had never sent them to his room before.
He didn't talk to Lex while they waited in their parents' bedroom. Lex paced a little, mumbling to himself. Clark wrapped his arms around himself, sniffling.
His dad came in a couple of minutes later. He walked right past the two of them, rummaged through his top drawer, and took out an oversized t-shirt that Clark had never seen him wear. He tore at the shirt collar, widening it, then said, "Get over here."
Clark took a step toward his father, while Lex took a step back. "No way," Lex said.
"What?" Clark looked back at Lex.
"He's going to make us both wear it," Lex said.
Clark gasped. "A-at the same time?"
"It's a trick parents use to try to make little kids get along."
It sounded awful—Clark didn't want to be closer to Lex! Lex was being mean! "Dad, no!"
"I'll give you a choice," their dad said. "You both get over here, or you're both grounded until Christmas Eve."
This time, Lex stepped toward Dad, and Clark stepped away.
"Come on, Clark," Lex said through clenched teeth, "don't get me grounded."
Clark smirked. He didn't have anywhere to be, but if they were grounded, Lex couldn't hang out with his teenager friends. Clark raced forward and ripped the t-shirt from his dad's hands, tearing it in two.
He was still enjoying his victory when Lex's fist slammed into his stomach. "You're such a baby!" he yelled.
It didn't hurt his skin or muscles or bones. But it still hurt, deeper inside, even more than the words he'd spoken. Clark's eyes immediately welled up with tears—he didn't want to cry, since Lex already thought he was a baby, but maybe it didn't matter.
His brother didn't like him anymore. They'd never have a snowball fight, or make snowmen or snow angels, or play basketball or checkers, or make cookies, or build blanket forts. And Lex would never hug him again, because he hated him, and he hit him, because Clark was a stupid baby . . .
Clark sank down to the floor in his dad's room, dissolving into sobs.
He could hear his father's voice speaking to Lex, deep and soft and scary: "Are you happy with your choices, son?"
"P-please, I—I didn't hurt him. He has invulnerability, I couldn't have hurt him."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Please don't hurt me. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry!"
Clark didn't look up, just kept crying into his hands.
"Okay." His dad's voice was a little louder. "To your rooms, both of you."
Clark heard Lex's footsteps heading out of the room and down the hall, and a moment later, he felt his father's hand rubbing his back.
"Up," his dad said. "I know you're hurting, little guy, but you're not innocent in all this."
"H-h-he ha-aates-s me-e-e."
"Your brother loves you more than anything in the world, son. Now go to your room."
Clark pulled himself up, wiping at his face even though tears were still pouring from his eyes and his nose was starting to run. He went into his room and lay down on his side over the covers on his bed, crying quietly.
A moment later, he heard Lex's bedroom door open.
Lex's voice immediately pleaded: "I'm sorry, Jonathan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! You can hurt me all you want but please don't send me away, please."
Clark was used to Lex talking like that—he always freaked out when he was going to be punished, even worse than Clark did. Most days, it made Clark want to run to defend him, but not today. Lex wouldn't want Clark to defend him, because Clark was a baby, and he couldn't do anything anyway, and Lex didn't like him.
Clark could hear his dad speaking to Lex in that quiet, scary voice, but he couldn't make out the words. Lex's voice was louder.
"I do, I swear, I'm sorry-y-y! Please!" Lex cried, and Lex broke down sobbing as Clark's dad continued to speak quietly.
Lex was really going to hate Clark now, because he'd gotten him into trouble. And then, after punishing Lex, his dad would come into Clark's room to punish him, too.
This was the worst day ever. He still couldn't believe Lex had hit him. Hard!
Clark buried his face deeper into his pillow, letting out a few more sobs. He tried to stop crying, but he couldn't. Lex was right—he was a baby.
His door swung open, and Clark expected to see his dad, but Lex stood in the doorway with a handful of tissues, his own eyes red and watery. He walked slowly over to Clark's bedside and knelt down.
Clark let go of his pillow and looked up. He flinched when Lex reached toward him, but Lex just began dabbing away his tears, gently holding the tissue beneath Clark's left eye, then his right, then swiping over his cheeks. He set aside the tissues, and his hand wandered down to Clark's stomach. "It didn't hurt, did it?" he whispered, his fingers lightly touching the place where he'd struck.
"It hurt my heart. Really bad."
"I'm so sorry." Lex's eyes became even shinier, and he blinked a few times.
"Do you hate me?" Clark asked.
"No, no." Lex brushed aside Clark's hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Scoot back?"
Clark scooted over a little on the bed, and Lex lay beside him and pulled him into his arms. Clark couldn't help but let out a couple more sobs. His big brother gave the best hugs in the whole world, and Clark had thought he'd never get another one.
"I'm really sorry," he said, running a hand through Clark's hair. "Can you forgive me?"
"Yeah," Clark sniffed again and buried his face in Lex's warm, soft t-shirt. "But can you promise never to hit me again?"
"I promise," Lex said.
"I promise never to be annoying again," Clark said.
"You can't promise that. You're my little brother. You're annoying by definition."
"Well, I'll leave you alone when you have stupid teenager friends over. And I'll let you have the remote sometimes."
"We're on restriction from TV until after Christmas. And we have extra chores."
"Oh." Clark sighed. "Are we on restriction from snowball fights?"
"No."
"Can we have one tomorrow?"
Lex pulled in Clark a little tighter. "Yeah."
Clark snuggled in closer, curling up and gripping the front of Lex's shirt with his hands. He didn't care if it did make him seem like a baby. It felt so nice and safe. "Do you still love me?"
"I love you so, so much." Lex's voice cracked.
"I love you too." Clark's eyes fluttered closed.
"I don't deserve you, you know."
Clark was going to ask what he meant, but he was so warm and comfortable, he fell asleep instead.
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