Archive of Our Own ^beta

When the screen turned on, Clark’s breath was taken away. He couldn’t stop staring. The dumb pirate statue they had outside blocked out the more private stuff, so Clark was allowed, right? Actually, that didn’t matter. Even if he wasn’t allowed, that didn’t stop him. How could it stop anyone when the boy outside was so gorgeous?

“Whoa,” Clark said as the wind knocked out of him. Even as he tilted his head to face his coworker, his eyes stuck on the boy. 

“I think you should call your mom…” 

Clark nodded, even though he only half-processed what he’d said. 

“Clark?” He asked. 

“Hm?” Clark asked, still staring. “Oh, right,” He said, scrambling to grab his phone from his pocket. 

He quickly dialled his mother’s number, and returned his eyes to the screen once the dial tone played. 

“Hi, baby,” His mom said. Good, she wasn’t busy. 

“Hey, mom! So, uh, there’s a guy outside… and he’s naked.” Clark’s eyes trailed down to the guy’s v-muscle. Probably wasn’t wearing pants. He swallowed. 

“How naked?” His mom asked.

It took all of his strength not to sputter out with confusion.

First of all, what kind of question was that! Second of all, thanks mom. Asking your bisexual son that question, now basically giving him an obligation to go see that dude potentially completely—

“Uh…” Clark trailed off before dashing to a window, ignoring the frantic questioning from his coworker. He swallowed again before poking his head out of the window.

Luckily, the boy was still distracted by the dumbass statue. 

“Completely?” Clark said quietly into the phone, although it was more of a squeak. He heard his mom sigh. 

“I’ll be right over.”

The phone hung up, and Clark still stared.

This was his mom’s fault. He wouldn’t be looking at this boy like this if she had just taken his word for it in the first place and headed out then. Did it matter just how naked this… fit, attractive, mouth-watering young man was… oh boy.

No! It didn’t matter! There was still a nude man outside his workplace!

“Dude, what are you doing?” His coworker asked as Clark stared. “This dude is nuts, why are you staring at his?” 

In any other circumstances, he would’ve laughed.

“I’m not, I’m… looking out for my mom!” He responded, fairly defensive. 

“Sure, man.” 

Clark didn’t know how long he was staring, although it was long enough that he felt like he should… adjust himself. 

But eventually, his mom’s van rolled in. He sat up nervously, pretending to have been staring at the boy the whole time.

It wasn’t that his mom didn’t know he was bi, but it was a little weird. Like being caught with porn. 

His mom looked at him for an explanation or something, but he just fumbled with confusion. 

He watched as the two conversed— although if he were being honest, he was staring mostly at the guy. 

As he saw his mom guide him into the backseat of her car, he grabbed his jacket.

He had to go with them. He had to. He had to know more about this guy. Not just because he was mysterious and attractive, but because this was the most entertaining thing that had ever happened at his workplace. 

“Mom, I’m coming too!” He said, stuffing his arms into his sleeves. 

“What? Clark, no, you have work,” She said. She did sound a bit concerned though. 

“I couldn’t care less,” Clark said. “Mom, this dude randomly showed up at my workplace wearing nothing. You can’t expect me to not be curious. Aren’t you? How the hell did this guy get here!” He relaxed. “C’mon mom, please.”

“Fine,” She finally said. “But you’re sitting in the front seat with me!” She exclaimed. 

“Wha— You think I wanted to sit back there? Absolutely not.” He rounded to the passenger door. “Just because I like guys doesn’t mean I want to sit right next to a naked one,” He said with a laugh before opening the door. 

His mom followed and they buckled their seatbelts. 

He could see his mom think about telling the boy in the backseat to do so as well, but she opted out. 

The boy in the backseat, pulled out the seatbelt and let go. He laughed when the seat belt retracted.

“Stop staring,” His mom said quietly as she pulled out of the lot. 

“Can’t,” Clark responded quietly. His mom rolled her eyes.

“We’re moving,” The boy said, stilling his arms. 

“Yep,” Clark said. 

“How are we moving?” 

Clark realised… was this guy high? He had to be high, right? 

“We’re in a car,” He said, trying to keep a straight face.

It wasn’t so hard, he was used to it, especially around his mom. 

“It has a motor, which moves wheels.”

The boy nodded.

The rest of the ride was in silence, and when they arrived at the station, the Barkers got out of the car.

“Stay at least 2 feet away from him,” His mom said. “At least while he’s like this,” She said. Clark rolled his eyes, but obeyed. He entered the station as his mom opened the car for the guy.

Clark sat down at some random desk. He usually sat there when he came to his mom’s workplace. Ever since he was a kid. 

“Hey, Clark,” Earl said, walking in. 

“Hey, Earl,” Clark said back. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, “I thought you had work.” Clark smiled.

“Oh, you’ll see.” 

Almost on cue, his mom and the guy walked in. 

“Earl, can you keep an eye on him and Clark, while I find him some clothes?” She asked. Earl’s face had already morphed into amusing confusion when he answered.

“Sure thing,” He said. 

Christine rushed off, leaving the boy standing there. 

Clark fell right back into his pattern of staring, only barely holding back a low moan when he stared. 

He wished he were as stoned as this guy was. Then the nudity of this guy probably wouldn’t matter as much.

The guy looked at him. Clark swallowed. They both looked away, although Clark seemed way more flustered. 

He needed a smoke if this was gonna keep going. What the hell was he thinking when he asked to come with…

“Alright, here you go.” His mom handed the boy a stack of clothes. He looked at them with that same, confused, focused look. “Earl, can you help him?”

Clark bit back his laughter as Earl gave her an incredulous look.

Earl, eventually, did help the hot guy into the clothes. 

Fuck, how was he still so good looking? Although, now he looked less tasty, and more absolutely adorable. 

Clark stared, but could hear Earl and his mom talking

“So weird,” Earl commented. 

“Why don’t you head out on patrol, Earl?” Christine asked. Clark watched as the boy examined one of his arms, now clad with the tan sleeve of a jacket. “And by the way, there’s no such thing as ‘weird.’ Everyone’s normal in their own way,” He heard his mom say. 

Classic. Ever since Clark came out to the precinct, this was something she preached loudly. Not that she really needed to. The small number of people at the precinct were basically Clark’s family. He was there more than his own home growing up, as his mother worked up in the ranks and raised him alone.

But Earl was new and didn’t like the idea of a ‘child’ around the precinct all the time. He was also a little less than an alley. 

“Right,” Earl said. Clark could feel Earl glance back at him as Clark looked down the boy’s body. He hoped he didn’t make the boy feel as insecure as that just did, but hopefully he was flying high enough that it didn’t matter, since Clark could hardly tear his eyes away. “Sorry, Sheriff,” He said. It was meaningless.

“Yeah,” Christine said, knowing he said it more as a courtesy than genuine sympathy.

Although Clark agreed with his mother’s sentiment— that everyone was normal in their own right— Clark knew this guy wasn’t normal. Or at least, wasn’t normal right now. He wondered how much of what the guy smoked before coming there.

Actually, he couldn’t imagine this cutie smoking. He probably did edibles. Yeah, that he could imagine. The boy stuffing his face with brownies, not even realising what effect they might have on him later. 

“Totally normal,” He commented to his mother as he saw the boy shake his feet as if he’d never worn shoes before. He smiled at his mom when she gave him a… well, a mom look.

He tried to look down at the floor and zone out like he usually did, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes flicked back up to the boy’s face, resting his head on his fist. Beautiful boy. 

“Hope those are alright,” Christine said to the boy. “Just pulled some stuff from the lost and found,” She said. “Everything fit?” She asked. 

Clark could answer that. Hell yes they fit. 

“Here,” Christine said, handing him a water bottle. “Take a seat.” The boy stared at the bottle and where she motioned to— the chair behind him— looking a bit bewildered. “Sit,” She said, taking her own seat. 

He did end up sitting down, although very slowly. Clark watched the boy’s curious face as he looked at the bottle in his hand.

“Okay,” The Sheriff said, “Let’s start with the basics. What’s your name?” She asked. The boy turned the bottle in his hand, watching the bubble of air at the top move as he tilted it. “What’s your name?” Christine repeated. 

The boy set the bottle down.

“Jack,” He said. 

Could a name be cute? It could be, right? Yeah. 

“Okay, Jack,” Christine said, writing the name down. “Jack what?” She asked. Jack looked so serious right now, although definitely confused. He seemed to space out, brows still furrowed. Clark looked at his mother, knowing he probably wouldn’t respond. “What’s your last name?” She asked.

Clark looked back at the boy— Jack, who didn’t answer. He swallowed, moving his hand away from his face nervously. 

“Okay, how about, uh, where are your parents?” She asked. “Your mother, your father?” Jack hesitated. 

“My mother, she’s in Heaven.”

Hm. That was not what Clark was expecting. Although, he wasn’t really expecting anything specific. 

“My father… he was supposed to be here, but he’s not,” Jack said. 

Damn, felt. For the first few years of his life after his father left, Clark received post cards and random letters from his father— all usually consisting of a few words, and always ending with ‘see you soon.’

Clark never saw his father again. 

“I’m trying to find him.” 

Clark stared differently now. Intrigue. He wanted to know more about Jack. His numb voice made Clark want to hug him until he felt better. 

“I have to find him,” Jack said. 

Clark’s heart ached. 

“Sure,” Christine said, “We can do that.”

If Clark weren’t so damn sure she could probably do it easily herself, he would’ve volunteered to help. But this isn’t some random movie about a kid with a lost father, this was his real life, and his mother was a cop. This was the safer, easier way of doing things. 

“What’s his phone number?” She asked. Clark rolled his eyes at his mom 

As if that isn’t something he would’ve already tried. Although, to be fair, it’s not as if he had a phone on him. He looked back at Jack.

“What about his address? Or an e-mail.” 

His mom was trying. That was nice. She never tried this hard with Clark’s dad. 

Understandably. By the time Clark realised what his mom could do— who she could find with just a few buttons, he’d realised that his dad wasn’t worth it. He hoped Jack’s dad wasn’t like that. He hoped his dad deserved to be found and reunited with his son. 

“Is there anything you do remember, Jack?” His mom asked, slipping on a glove.

Okay, she was starting to get impatient. Not that Clark blamed her. But for him— despite his rampant ADHD— he didn’t mind the slow pace. It gave him more time to spend staring at Jack, a boy who he had no guts to talk to, and would probably never see again.

Plus, it’s not like he could get Jack’s number.

“I remember when the bad woman burned,” Jack said. 

Clark turned his head, which was before facing his mom— trying not to be too obvious about his staring— but now looked at Jack straight-on. What. The fuck. 

“I remember the universe screamed.”

Okay, what? Clark couldn’t help it. He cleared his throat, and tried to indicate to his mom that this was… well, it was ridiculous. Not real. A fucking acid trip, or whatever the hell. 

“Okay,” His mom said, dismissing it on arrival. “I’m gonna take your thumbprint, and we’re gonna run it through the system. If we get a match, we get you home, yeah?” She said, pressing his thumb into the ink. “Okay, just like that,” She instructed, leading his thumb to the paper. “And… press it here,” She said.

He assumed she was doing the same thing she did when he got his thumbprint done every few years. She was always afraid he was going to get lost. Clark appreciated it, except for the nights he contemplated running away for fun. Not that he would ever really do that. 

“Okay.” She closed the case that held the paper. “You stay here. I’ll be right back,” She said, walking off. 

Clark watched intently as Jack looked at his thumb before bringing it to his lips and licking the ink slightly. 

Well, that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, what the fuck. 

“Hm. Dude.” Clark spoke before he could stop himself. “How high are you?” He asked quietly. 

That’s what this had to be. There was no way it was absolutely anything else. 

Clark didn’t let the way he instantly captured Jack’s attention get to him. Even if it was nice to see those gorgeous eyes stare right into his own. 

“I don’t know what that means,” Jack said, taking a seat again. 

“Well, it means, um, like…” He started rattling off synonyms. “... wasted, lit, chonged, blitzed, blasted, blazed, baked. Nothing, no?” He asked, not seeing a reaction out of any of them. “Look, I’m not judging you.” He looked around. “I-I’m jealous.” Yes, that’s what this was. Not a pathetic attempt to get closer to him in any sort of way.

Well, actually, that is kind of what this was. Just not all of it. 

“What are you on?” Clark asked, albeit a bit nervously. 

“I’m on a chair,” Jack almost immediately responded slowly, “On the floor.” Clark stared, wondering to himself why he found this so charming. “On the planet Earth.” A fond, amused smile grew on Clark’s face.

“You are so stoned, man,” He said, laughing slightly. He scratched his neck a bit, nervously. 

“No, I’m not… stoned,” Jack responded. “I’m…” Jack’s eyes trailed down Clark in a familiar way. Clark looked away, unable to handle that. It was a coincidence. Although, that didn’t stop him from being flustered. 

“What?” He asked quietly. The boy stared at the desk, thinking for a split second.

“Hungry,” Jack finished. “I’m hungry,” He said, looking at Clark in the eyes again. Clark nodded slowly along with Jack, understanding.

So, either this guy was super high and had the munchies, or this dude was totally off his rocker and had the munchies. Either way, Clark had to help. 

“Okay,” He said, “Well, I can help with that.” He stood up, beginning to walk off. He turned back, seeing that Jack was still sitting in the chair. “C’mon,” He said with a smile. 

Jack smiled back as he walked quickly to join Clark’s side. Clark motioned with his hand as he turned down the hall.

“So, I basically grew up here, right?” He said, “Which means, I basically lived…” He opened the door to the break room. “Off of that machine,” He said, pointing to the vending machine. 

Jack stared at it before slowly approaching it, the same interested intensity as he’d had all day. Clark followed him inside, letting the door shut. 

“How does it work?” He asked. 

Clark dug his wallet out of his pocket. 

“Well, uh,” He said, pulling out the cash.

Most people he knew had the cash waded up or rolled messily. But as someone who frequented a vending machine, his cash was always crisp as could be. 

“You put the money in,” He said, trying his best not to embarrass himself. “And you press one of the buttons…” He didn’t have to look at the selection before making his decision. The same since he was seven. B3.

The machine whirred, dropping one of the candy bars. 

Clark leaned down and grabbed it.

“And it gives you food,” He said. He opened the package and held the candy bar in front of Jack.

Instead of taking it like a normal fucking person— although Clark wondered why he would’ve ever expected that— He leaned forward slightly, wrapped his lips around the candy bar and took a bite, all while staring Clark right in the eyes.

Clark’s eyes stayed wide, his breath increasing. Suddenly this jacket felt too hot, even in the cold precinct. Jack’s eyes widened too, and for a second Clark thought that Jack realised just how… let’s say ‘weird’ that was. 

Instead, Jack wrapped his hands around the bar, trapping Clark’s hand between them, scarfing down the candy bar. 

“Sorry,” Jack said, pulling his hands away from Clark’s and the empty candy wrapper. 

“It’s okay,” Clark said, his face finally melting away from shock and flustered into a smile. “Just chew with your mouth closed, okay?” He said. Jack nodded obediently, shutting his mouth. 

Clark stared at Jack’s mouth, noticing melted chocolate around the corners. He carefully wiped it away with his thumb and Jack swallowed. Clark swiftly pulled his hand away. 

“That was good,” Jack said, a smile on his face.

“Well, then let’s get you some more,” Clark said.

He stuffed the candy wrapped into his wallet to get it out of the way, and pulled out the remainder of his cash. He went to feed the money into the machine, but Jack spoke up. 

“Can I try?” He asked.

Fuck, no way in hell could Clark say no to him. 

“Y-Yeah, man,” He said, handing Jack the bill. 

He watched as Jack’s eyes intently stared at the slot as it ate the dollar. 

“What button was it?” Jack asked, looking back at Clark. 

“This one,” Clark said, pointing at the button. Jack smiled, pressing the button. 

Suddenly the lights flickered and more than just B3 fell out. 

Clark and Jack smiled at each other. 

“Whoa,” Clark said.

“Where did it go?” Jack asked, kneeling down. Clark kneeled down and pushed the door in, revealing the numerous snacks that Jack had dropped. 

Jack and Clark sat on the floor and Jack spread the snacks out. 

“Do you want to try more, or just keep with the same thing?” Clark asked. 

“I want… to try,” Jack decided. 

“Okay,” Clark said, picking up one of the bags of chips that had fallen. 

He opened the bag and handed Jack a chip. This time Jack actually took it, instead of eating it out of Clark’s hand. Progress.

Jack inspected it like he had the water bottle before carefully putting it into his mouth.

“This one is different,” He said. 

“Yeah,” Clark said. “These are also chips, but they’re potato chips, not corn chips.”

“That’s confusing.” 

“Eh, they’re just made of different stuff.”

“Do they taste different?” Jack asked. 

Clark answered by tearing the second bag open and handing him a potato chip. Jack ate that one too. 

“They do taste different,” He said. He pointed to one of the candy bars. “I like this.” 

Clark picked one up and opened it before putting it into Jack’s hands, his heart unready to repeat what happened with the first one. He opened one for himself as Jack began to eat his. 

Jack looked so happy. It was adorable. 

When Jack finished the candy bar, he put the wrapper on the floor and wiped his face the same way Clark had. Clark finished his own, letting the wrapper fall to the floor.

“Can I have another?” Jack asked innocently. 

“Only if you share,” Clark said, winking courageously. He immediately felt terrible. “That was dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Okay!” Jack said, picking up one of the candy bars. “Can you open it?” He asked. Clark smiled and opened it up for Jack. 

“Hey, do you wanna… try something?” Clark asked. Jack looked at him curiously. “Here,” He said, taking the candy bar. He unwrapped it all the way and nudged it between Jack’s lips. 

Now or never. 

Clark leaned closer and their lips touched.

They stayed like that for a quick moment, both of their mouths around the candy bar before Clark bit away. 

Jack happily chewed on his half of the bar, his cheeks adorably stuffed. Clark stared, admiring the adorable boy. 

“I like this,” He said, “What is it?” Clark swallowed and cleared his throat. 

“Uh, nougat,” He said, holding up the packaging. 

“I like nougat,” Jack said. “More?” He asked. 

“If you want, yeah,” Clark said.

Jack beamed and looked shy for a second before leaning in. Clark’s breath hitched before their lips touched again. 

Clark wasn’t expecting it, but nonetheless, he braced his hands against Jack’s neck and cheek, while Jack let his hands rest on Clark’s waist and leg. 

Clark could hear the lights whirring and could see the brightness changing behind his eyelids, but he didn’t care much. 

When Jack pulled away, they struggled to breath and Clark struggled to think. They giggled a bit, a warm, fluttery feeling rushing through them both.

“Whoa,” Clark breathed. 

Jack’s eyes were so beautiful up close… 

“I like that,” He said. 

“Me too,” Clark managed quietly. 

Jack pulled away and picked up a candy bar. He inspected it before tearing it open, a grin spreading over his face. 

Clark picked one up and opened it too. 

This was definitely the weirdest day of his life. But he had to just go with the flow at this point. 

They continued to laugh a bit.

And the door opened. 

“Hm. Hey, mom,” Clark greeted.

“Uh…” His mom hesitated. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. Jack was, um, just hungry,” Clark said, managing to seem as normal as possible. His gaze lingered on the boy for a second longer than it should’ve. “I don’t think he’s ever had candy before,” He said, looking back at his mom. Clark looked at Jack as he turned toward the door. 

“I like it,” Jack said, a smile on his face. “I like nougat,” He added. 

“He really does,” Clark said, a bit flustered. He kept looking at Jack again. 

“Did you see…” Christine trailed off. “There’s something wrong with the lights,” She said. 

“It’s, uh…” Clark laughed nervously. “It’s crazy.” He nudged Jack’s leg. “Show her the… thing,” He said, motioning toward the vending machine and hoping Jack wouldn’t just kiss him again. 

Not that he would’ve minded, but his mom was right there. 

Luckily, Jack stood up and approached the vending machine. He looked at Christine and Clark before touching the side of the vending machine. The lights flickered as the vending machine whirred, dropping numerous packages of candy. 

Clark could see the reflection of Jack’s wide smile in the glass of the vending machine. 

“Yeah, dude’s, uh…” He panted for breath for a split second. “Magic,” He said, thinking back to their kiss.

Magical. 

Jack collected his bounty and stood up, holding the candy proudly in his hands. 

“Jack. How did you do that?” Christine asked. Jack laughed lightly. 

“I don’t know,” He answered.

Fuck, how was this boy so cute… That shouldn’t be allowed.

Suddenly Jack groaned in pain, dropped the candy and braced himself on the vending machine. Clark could’ve been crazy, but after the day he’s had, he could’ve sworn he saw glowing gold eyes in the reflection of the glass. 

Clark stood up as his mom walked closer. 

“Jack?” She asked worriedly. “Are you okay?” 

“I-I don’t… I…” He pulled away from the machine. “I-I have to…” 

“Just wait. Wait,” Christine said, putting her hand on Jack’s shoulder. A bad feeling rushed over Clark.

Rightfully so, as Jack weakly pushed her away, she was launched into the vending machine. Clark didn’t think he was ever so thankful for the heavy duty vest she always wore. 

That didn’t stop him from rushing to her side with worry. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, glancing as he saw Jack leaving the room. 

“Yeah, I-I’m alright,” She said. “Are you okay?” 

“Wha— Yeah, I’m fine.”

Clark and Christine could hear glass shatter out in the hall. Clark left his mom’s side to check it out. 

“Hey, it might not be safe,” He heard his mom say, but he still peaked out the door. 

The light fixtures were shattering themselves, sparks raining down as Jack stumbled on his way. 

His mom joined his side.

“He didn’t do anything while you were alone, did he?” 

“No, of course not.” He hesitated, “Nothing dangerous,” He tacked on. 

“You stay here,” Christine said, pulling her gun. Clark’s eyes widened.

Jack didn’t deserve that, and knowing him, he wouldn’t know what it was, so he could hardly be threatened by it.

“What? Mom, you can’t hurt him, he—”

“Stay here,” His mother repeated.

He stayed in the break room as he was told, pacing slightly. This wasn’t the first time his mom was in potential danger while Clark was told to lag behind. 

But Jack was just a kid! It would be like if his mom shot him, or any one of his friends. But worse. Jack was so wide-eyed and innocent. He didn’t deserve to be hurt. 

Clark had thought Jack was inebriated at one point, but after spending that small bit of time alone with him, he got the feeling that he wasn’t. He got the feeling that this was just who Jack was. 

After a few minutes and a candy bar, he shoved a couple in his pocket and rushed out. 

“Mom!” Clark yelled, rushing to the main room. 

“Clark, I told you to stay put.”

“Who the hell are these two?” He asked. His eyes fell to Jack, who was unconscious. “What the hell happened to Jack? Did they do this?” He asked, feeling himself get worked up. 

Jack didn’t deserve that. 

“We had—”

“No talking,” Christine said. “If you’re gonna be out here, help me get Jack into a cell.”

“You’re imprisoning him?!” Clark exclaimed, “Mom, he’s just a kid, he’s my age, you can’t just—”

“Clark. This is my job. I know you like him, but he’s not safe.” 

“He’s…” Clark couldn’t excuse it. It was true. Jack hurt his mother. “Fine,” He said quietly. 

He got on the floor and carefully scooped Jack into his arms. Jack looked so distressed, even while unconscious. That couldn’t be good. 

“C’mon,” Christine said, leading the boys to the holding cell. 

She led the tall guy into the cell and handed Clark the keys before leaving with the smaller guy. She must be aiming to interrogate him. 

Clark set Jack down on one of the benches and pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving. He got a strange look from the big guy as he locked the door. 

“Hey,” He said. 

“What?” Clark asked, pocketing the keys. 

“You’re the sheriff’s son?” 

“Yeah.”

“How do you know Jack?” 

That was unexpected… How did this guy know Jack?

“We met today. That’s all.”

He didn’t give the guy the chance to ask another question before he went back to the bullpen. 

He dug through his honorary desk. 

He hadn’t smoked in a while— it wasn’t his favourite habit. But goddamn did he need a cigarette right now. He found a box he’d hidden away, along with a small lighter.

His mom had learned not too long ago. He hadn’t smoked since then. But things were too much right now. 

He saw his mom talking with the smaller guy before he went out the door. He propped it open with a recycling bin. He would be locked out otherwise. 

He put a cigarette between his lips and sparked his lighter as he turned toward the street, only to be faced with three unfamiliar faces. He scrambled the unlit cigarette and lighter into his pocket. 

“So… you gonna share or what?” 

Clark hesitated. He was going to pull the carton of cigarettes from his pocket before he noticed. The three of them were holding knives.

Well, not knives. They looked more like silver spikes with handles. Daggers? Clark didn’t know, but the point was, he was in danger now. Again. 

He couldn’t do anything before the leading woman grabbed his collar and turned him in her arms, aiming the point of her blade into Clark’s neck.

“Easy,” She said as he breathed heavily. She motioned with her head for the other two to open the door, which they did.

“Why…” Clark breathed.

“You’re gonna help us get the boy.”

“The boy…?”

Jack. 

“Who are you? What do you want with him?” He tilted his head as he felt the point press into his skin.

“Doesn’t matter to you. You’re nothing.”

It did matter. Jack mattered. And maybe Clark was nothing, but Jack wasn’t. 

She led him to the centre of the room, where he stood stiffly— terrified that something would happen to him or to Jack or to his mother. 

He wanted this all to be a dream. Sure, then Jack wasn’t real, but if Jack wasn’t real, then he couldn’t get hurt.

“Go ahead now,” The woman taunted. “Scream for help.”

Clark swallowed. This was a trap, he knew it. This was a trap and he was the bait. 

“Now,” She said, pressing the blade against his skin again.

He couldn’t help it. He was only human. He did as he was told.

He hated how his need for self-preservation was stronger than his need for Jack-preservation. 

His mom and the smaller guy came into vision.

“Hey, Dean,” The woman said. 

Okay, that was Dean. Not that it mattered right now. 

Jack must’ve still been in the cell. At least he was safe…

His mom drew her gun,

“Oh no, you—” 

“No, no, no! No,” Dean said, guiding her to stop. “That won’t do jack against her.”

Poor choice of words, Dean.

“He’s not wrong,” The girl behind him answered.

“Let him go,” Dean said. 

“Okay,” The woman answered. “If she shoots you,” She finished. 

As much as Clark wanted Jack back, for Jack to be safe, he didn’t want some random civilian getting hurt. Better Clark than him. Better Clark than anyone.

“I don’t know what he’s told you,” The woman said. “I mean, I can guess. Some line about how he and his brother… Save the world. Grr. So macho,” She mocked. Clark tried to keep his breath steady. “But really, he’s not a hero. He’s Becky.”

Okay, this day has been a lot of confusion. But what the fuck did that mean???

“Becky? The roommate Becky?” Dean asked.

Well, at least Dean knew.

“You take things and break things and piss people off and just do whatever you want, no matter who it hurts,” She said.

This was definitely the most confusing part of Clark’s day.

“Also, you’re a giant super bitch,” She added. 

She must really have something against this Becky. And also Dean. 

“Well, it takes one to know one.”

Clark would’ve laughed in any other circumstance. 

“So, yeah, you’re Becky. And Becky needs to die.”

That escalated quickly. 

“You’re on, Barney Fife.”

Who the fuck was… whatever, didn’t matter. 

Clark could hear some banging in the distance. He recognised where it was. The back entrance to the holding cell. 

No, no, no…

He faintly heard the bigger guy yelling for Dean. He wondered if Jack was awake now, if he was okay. 

There was a tense pause.

“Too late,” The woman said. 

The next moments were blurry. A sharp pain and then loud noises. His mom was trying to help, but there was so much blood. So much pain. 

The worst part was what was rushing through his mind.

How he’d never see his father again. His friends. Never got the chance to graduate or tell off the principal who just kept being homophobic toward him and his friends.

But most of it was Jack. 

How all of this was worth it, if it meant Jack was okay. If Jack was safe.

How had he gotten so goddamn attached to this boy so fast. 

He heard a scream. And then silence.

The next thing he remembers— albeit faintly, and blurry— was Jack. 

“Clark,” He said, rushing to his side. “Clark, you’re okay, you have to be okay.”

“Jack, he—”

“No, he’s okay, he has to be okay!”

Clark coughed before speaking, putting his hand on Jack’s face, as if to check if it were really there. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

“What? Clark, you’re the one who matters, you’re hurt,” Jack said. He put one of his hands over Clark’s and the other over Clark’s wound. 

Clark remembered feeling better, just a little. It hurt less. He knew there was still a wound there, but it didn’t hurt as much. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Jack whispered like a promise.

Clark heard sirens and the door opening. 

“Everyone get out of the way!”

Must’ve been a paramedic. As soon as Jack left his side, the pain ached again, especially as Clark was moved onto the gurney. 

He felt a mask be strapped over his face to help him breathe. 

He muttered Jack’s name quietly.

And he woke up in a hospital.