JM: Young tilted head closeup

cyndrarae

Rebelling against Reality since 2003

v14.0


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JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (Prologue) (Clark/Whitney)



Author’s notes: My first fic ever, yay! Its kinda AU, the timelines and parts of the story are not exactly in sync with the series. I have modified them to fit the Smallville in my mind :) Also, there are many original characters in the story. They are assumed to have been associated with the lives of the main characters Whitney, Clark etc. The football coach mentioned in the story is also a different one.

I have included some of my own characterizations for Clark and Whitney. For example, Clark of the series is this complex confused teen still struggling to come to terms with his superpowers. But I’ve set this story one year after the point that season 1 ended and feel that Clark by now would have to some extent, grown into his extraordinary status and has perhaps begun to accept his destiny as the friendly neighborhood superboy. In this story, his mindset is that of a young man who’s gained confidence in his powers and is boyishly proud of himself, even a little cocky but in a cute way:) He’s so much more sexier being naughty anyway.

Similarly, Whitney is not the vain quarterback he was a year ago. Circumstances have humbled him, he’s quieter and has emotional issues revealed in the story. (yeah right :p) But he’s still a fighter. And his sarcasm and sense of humor is still in tact.
Whitney is my favorite character in Smallville who I think deserves much more and so this is centered on him. But like they say, authors are mostly sadists, so...

This chapter is really really short.. just a prologue in Whitney's POV. The following chapters will be longer and you wont have to read all this author notes bull there :)

Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious? I don't own Whitney or Clark or anything else from the Smallville world. Just borrowing them for awhile for private entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.


************

Prologue

So okay, even the 'Whit-man' ain't perfect. I have done things, bad things, and made mistakes I shouldn’t have and God, do I regret them. Of course I do. Why do you find that so hard to believe?

Fate, chance, destiny or whatever the fuck that is, has always had a particularly great interest in me. Kept real close watch you know, rapped my knuckles just when I needed it. Not like in the academy… Worse. Made sure I paid my dues you know, with interest.

So Lana left. Football scholarships vanished. Dad died. Didn’t think there’d be any more bills left to pay you know. But fuck was I wrong. I forgot about this one, but my fate, my destiny didn't. 

This is all my fault. I brought this upon myself.

And so you see this is why tonight, here, I find myself strung up, dead tight, in the same corn field, to the same wooden stake, cold and buck naked. Similar pieces of rope cutting my flesh and similar streamlets of blood flowing down my body. But not the same flesh, not the same blood. And the same bloody sign of “S” on my torso to mark the damned.

The scarecrow.

Not the same scarecrow though, I’m afraid.

I am very afraid. Fact I am scared shitless. Marine training be damned.

There’s no escape anymore. This is my penance.

And.. Clark, I really can't tell you how much I regret... I’m…sorry that I… I feel…I know I shouldn’t have… I should at least have... damn it.

I never should have returned.


*****

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