Title: Blood Obsession
Author: JayneFaire
Email: justforspite@livejournal.com
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: CLFF 25 “I own you.”
Notes: Totally and completely inspired by Lexophilia’s art contribution of the same title, which I janked unceremoniously.
Summary: Post “Fracture”

Inhale

There was a connection there, unnoticed and unbroken. Two minds had melded and though the link had been purely physical, arbitrated by wires and metal and desperation it had become more when no one noticed. Soft hands on his chest, a girl giving her life for them both and the bridge became solid and invisible.

The child who ran could now find solace in another mind.

The villain who chased him found new hunting grounds.

Exhale

“You’re my best friend, Clark,” The small voice said to him for the fourth night in a row. He’d been dreaming of Alexander for so many nights now, a string of days that had become weeks but all that time he’d been silent. Passive. As if amazed by new surroundings as all children were prone to. Only recently had he found a voice and every moment that led up to Clark’s waking he would beg and plead that Clark remain with him, that he could only exist within him when Clark slept. “Please don’t leave me—” the child would beg before Clark’s eyes opened.

A new day had to begin but every waking moment would be marred with guilt.

Something wasn’t right.

Inhale

“So this is where you ran off to?” And the familiar voice sent his dream into grayscale. Even he was afraid and all it was was a voice from far away. “You thought you could run from me? You can’t run, you can’t RUN!”

Exhale

He jolted up, his eyes trained on the mirror of the dresser across from him. The boy stood there, in the dark, in the reflection, blood pouring from his lips.

“Alexander—” Clark called out, turning to him. The child was gone.

Inhale

They ran every night, down the corridors of Clark’s mind, into his own memories, some happy, most sad, all in an effort to save the child who had once been his dearest friend. The nightmares plague him during the day now as each and every mirror he passed shot back the distorted reflection of a child, beaten halfway near death, all in an effort for the darkness to purge him from existence.

Exhale

“I need your help,” Clark said, pushing past Lex’s assistant and walking into his study.

The billionaire couldn’t help seeing the blatant irony and he felt something far beyond insult. “Please, I await the punch line.”

Clark glanced over his shoulder and gave the woman a sharp look. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Clark’s tone intrigued Lex and a curl of a smile played on his face. “It’s alright.” And so she left, against her better judgment.

Lex rose from his desk, his hands in his pockets, “So, which Clark am I speaking to now?”

“What?”

“This isn’t the mild-manned farmer, which is your usual mode. This is something a little more aggressive. This is the Clark that speaks his mind. So . . . speak.”

Clark looked to the polished steel of the drink cart and saw the child shivering there. “There’s a part of you, Lex—”

“Oh please, don’t start this. I’ve heard it from you and from my father and I’m pretty tired of—”

Clark grabbed him by the lapel and slammed him against the wall. “Listen to yourself! Just shut up and listen to yourself! Don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself? What you’re doing to him?!”

Lex’s eyebrows rose as he choked a little against Clark’s strong grasp. “The elusive him. By this do you mean the average Joe? The Everyman? My dry cleaner? Please Clark, educate me as to who you’re talking about.”

“You’re destroying my best friend.” And this came out as a choke. In the glare of the window behind him, Clark saw his distorted image in the stained glass and the battered body of little Alexander just over his shoulder. “Why?”

And something dark passed over Lex’s eyes, the hunter in full control. The man in white was speaking, his mouth filled with blood and an insane smile on his face, “Because it’s FUN!”

Inhale

He woke from the dream and stared into the eyes of the child. “It’s okay Clark,” he whispered. “I don’t think I’m supposed to win.”

“Please try.”

“I can’t anymore. It hurts too much.” Alexander extended his hand and touched Clark’s face. His eyes flared with fright. “He’s here.”

“Alex—”

The little boy’s hands became larger and his face aged until Clark was staring into the sad blue eyes of Lex. He pulled up closer to Clark, curling against him. “I’ll be gone when you wake up,” he whispered.

“Lex, please—”

“You’re the only reason I survived this long.” He smiled, “Thank you.”

Exhale

The man in white crept up.

Inhale

The child died in Clark’s arms.

Exhale

The hunter curled up behind Clark, whispering in his ears, “I’m here now. You’re dreams are mine. I own you.”

Exhale

Exhale

Exhale . . .