Title:  A Gift Goodbye
Author: Lachesis
Email:  rbutler_gg@yahoo.com
Rating:  PG-13
Challenge: Hoobastank – The Reason
Notes:  Superman, Lex Luthor, and the Smallville sub-canon are the legal properties of multiple persons and corporations.  I’m merely borrowing them for sweet fluff.
Summary: Sequel to The Written Word – Lex gives the only gift he believes won’t be returned – his absence.

All around him, the graduates of Smallville High visited with their family and sought their rehearsed seats in the throng.  Clark, using his greater-than-average height, still bounced to his toes looking around. 

“Lex isn’t here yet…” 

The almost whine had Martha sighing, looking at her son with maternal exasperation.  It was something she was doing frequently these days.  Clark's decision to stay at home and commute to school disturbed her.  It wasn’t that she wanted her son to leave.  But, somehow, she felt he was denying himself. 

“He’s a busy man, Clark.” 

Jonathan made an attempt to mollify his son.  It was half-hearted at best.  The lack of emotion was obviously felt by the dark-haired youth as he frowned. 

“But he promised.” 

“Maybe he wrote the date down wrong?” 

Martha knew she was reaching, but still tried.  Lex Luthor would no more make an error in recording a fact about Clark’s life than Lionel would have made a pass at her husband.  She might have been uncomfortable at the Luthor heir’s interest in her son but she knew it was unwavering.  

Clark’s expression clearly shared her skepticism at that thought.  “I invited him months ago, Mom.  He promised.” 

There was almost plaintive desperation in his tone.  He was ignoring his classmates, shouldering off congratulations and greetings, as he continued to seek the distinctive bald head.  

“Now, son, I know he’s your friend…” 

“Dad,” Clark interrupted.  

But Jonathan would not be swayed and continued to speak, overriding his son.  “But you haven’t been as close this year and we have all seen that.  Maybe he just decided not to come?” 

Martha saw the clear disappointment on her son’s face as he processed that idea.  Maybe, she wondered, she should have been watching Clark’s reaction more than Lex’s approaches.  It hurt that her little boy would be at such a loss. 

“I’m sure he’s just running late, honey…” 

Clark latched onto that explanation with all the desperation of a smitten teenager.  When the guidance counselor tested the address system and summoned the graduates to their seats, he gave only the barest indication that he was still obsessing over an absent person. 

Clark listened to the graduates preceding him across the stage even as he watched for a late arrival.  But there were no more spectators arriving.  Smallville was a small town with all that implied.  Graduation was an event and anyone who could attend, did so.  

And Lex simply didn’t. 

Clark forced himself to stare forward, no longer futilely seeking someone who wasn’t coming.  He swallowed harshly, trying to keep a pleasant expression.  It was time to stop this.  His parents wouldn’t want him to be unhappy today, so he wouldn’t be. 

He let his peripheral vision show him Lana practically bouncing next to him.  She was what his parents would want in a daughter-in-law.  If he asked his mother, she would give him her engagement ring.  And if he asked Lana, she would say yes. 

“Isn’t this so exciting?” 

All Clark could think, as he smiled wanly at Lana’s question, was that he hadn’t been this bored in ages.  This ceremony wasn’t required.  They weren’t being handed their diplomas.  They were simply being trussed up in the heat for a last enforced stricture from a school that hadn’t truly fit him. 

“Yeah, it’s great.” 

Lana reached out, taking one of Clark’s hands in hers.  Her expression seemed untainted by the effects of years in Smallville as she whispered urgently to him. 

“I’m so glad we’re going to college together, Clark.  It’s going to be just like nothing’s changed.” 

Clark felt like he was betraying everything that his parents wanted for him as he could barely dredge a small grin in response.  He was saved from providing a more concrete answer as their row stood and joined the procession.  

He’d never arrived, Clark reminded himself as he forced yet another smile. 

Martha was practically cooing over the teenagers as she took pictures of Clark with Lana and Chloe in their caps and gowns.  At the contentment in his father’s face, Clark resolved himself to the next step. 

With a moment of maternal fussing over his collar, Clark began his task with a simple inquiry. 

“Mom?” 

But before she’d managed to reply with more than a, “What, honey?” there was an unknown voice breaking into the family scene. 

“Clark Kent?” 

Clark turned, curious.  He glanced over the man standing with his clipboard and shook his head.  It looked almost like the same courier that had delivered that long ago message from Dr. Swann. 

“Yes?” 

“Sign here, please.” 

He did so, wondering and trying not to hope too hard.  Only when he’d returned the electronic pad after scrawling a poor mockery of his usual steady name did the man hold out an envelope.  Clark took it from him, hoping that the faint tremors in his hand didn’t show. 

“The rest was left at the address as instructed.  Have a nice day, sir.” 

It must have been a form of shock.  For an alien that could move faster than most humans could think, he’d barely glanced at the envelope and the deliveryman was gone.  Unconcerned with the idea of a papercut, Clark ripped into the large envelope to get at the small notecard he could tell was just inside. 

It was a familiar combination of lavender and plum.  The two colors he would always be able to identify after a rather snotty lecture from Lex that his stationary was nothing so mundane as purple.  

Martha smiled knowingly at her son as the card fell into his hand.  The true smile on his face belied the mockery he’d forced in the pictures.  Perhaps now that Lex had sent what surely must be his apologies for his absence they’d get a decent record of the day. 

Clark flipped the card over, admiring the spiky slant that was Lex’s handwriting.  He’d once told his younger friend that penmanship could say a lot about a person.  And Lex intended his to say that the reader must bend to him, must make the effort to read rather than Lex making the effort to be fully legible.  The only thing Clark remembered more clearly in that conversation was Lex’s expression when Clark had only rolled his eyes and thrown the cap from a Ty Nant at him. 

But if happiness at the card had been creeping into Clark, it vanished as he read the note. 

On this day when society recognizes your progression from child to man, I will also honor your achievements.  The only thing I can give you that you wouldn’t be forced to return, I have.  First, my words.  I had your journal stolen.  Yes, I read it.  I regret that this revelation will surely cause you pain and worry.  I understand now and I will never permit that understanding to threaten you.  

I can only apologize for my behavior.  A calculating man would have allowed me to drown.  I suppose I should count myself lucky that you are kinder than you are strategic.  For my continued existence, I owe you a debt that cannot be repaid.  Should you ever require anything of me – it’s yours. 

Many eastern cultures consider that should you save a life, then that life is yours.  Since I know that you will never rectify the mistake you made in that river by saving me, I can only ensure that my life from this point is something that does honor to your actions.  If I do not become my father, it will be solely due to your influence on my existence. 

Be happy, Clark. 

It was signed, not with words, but with symbols.  They were carefully sketched at the bottom of the card in the Kryptonian alphabet.  There was no explanation available than they had been copied from the pilfered journal.  Clark wondered idly if it was starting to rain, as the card dampened in his hand and the characters smeared.  

“Clark?  Son?” 

Clark met his father’s obviously worried stare with numb disbelief.  And in that moment, he knew that the card wasn’t an apology or a regret for missing the graduation – it was a goodbye. 

“He’s gone.” 

It was almost whispered, but Clark knew it to be truth.  Martha leaned into him, wiping at his face with a handkerchief.  

“What do you mean, Clark?” 

“Lex is gone.” 

His stunned disbelief seemed to perplex his father.  Lana and Chloe had moved off as the family trio tightened into a knot of support for the youngest member.  Martha, ever hopeful, shook her head slightly. 

“I’m sure that’s not it, Clark.  We’ll stop by the mansion on the way home and leave him a message.” 

Clark numbly permitted his parents to guide him from the area and back to the truck.  He was consumed by his thoughts on the drive and never noticed when they stopped.  His attention was turned inward. 

Martha returned to the truck after having spoken to the security guard at the mansion gates.  She whispered urgently to her husband, shooting a deeply concerned look at her son.  Jonathan’s jaw only tightened further as their direction was changed and they headed home.  As they pulled into the dusty drive, the shining crimson and chrome of the sporty truck parked before their house became visible. 

The Kent patriarch’s disgust of Luthor wealth was clear.  “It seems he didn’t leave without sending another truck.” 

“It’s the same truck.” 

“What?” Jonathan inquired of his distracted son. 

“It’s the same truck.  He had it in the mansion garage all this time.”  Clark was smiling gently as he continued, “He didn’t know that I knew.” 

They climbed quietly out of the older farm vehicle and Clark wandered over to his gift.  Martha, using the moment’s opportunity, picked up the forgotten notecard from the seat.  Reading it quickly, she could only withhold her own sorrow as Clark spoke to his father. 

“I never thanked you, Dad.” 

“For?” 

“Making me return the truck.” 

Jonathan was trying to follow his son’s thought process as Clark felt the hood of the vehicle.  It was clear he didn’t track the justification. 

“I seem to recall you were rather upset I made you take it back.” 

“I was, but I realized something later.  If I’d kept it, we’d never have been friends.  Only by returning it did I get that chance.” 

Shoving his innate distrust of all things Luthor deep inside, Jonathan laid a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.  The words were difficult for him, but he simply had not expected Clark to experience this much pain when Lex moved on.  And he had always known it would occur eventually. 

“Clark, son… Maybe you should try and contact him?” 

Clark shook his head, straightening up.  “Lex deserves the chance to get away from everything Smallville’s ever done to him.  This is his choice and I’ll respect that.” 

Their son never looked back as he moved into the pale yellow farmhouse.  Behind him, Jonathan and Martha Kent shared a look that was filled with meaning.  

Finis

The Reason, by  Hoobastank

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
Thats why i need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you