title: scrapbook
author: jessica
date: october 08, 2003
notes: for bunglegirl. improv: clark/lex, bedroom, diary.
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"Go on upstairs, Lex," Martha says after opening the door for him. "Clark's just packing. Maybe you could help speed things up. Then again..." She hands him a cookie from the jar she's filling. "Maybe I should start dinner for when you boys finally come downstairs."
Lex trudges up to Clark's room, red-faced and with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. He loves how this house makes him feel.
The room is a mess - garment bag hanging empty on the door, a suitcase half-full on the bed, clothes everywhere else. He can't see Clark anywhere, but he checks the ceiling just in case.
Caroline's room is next door, stuck in an awkward eight-year old transition period. They got rid of the bunnies, but the walls are still pink. She's not that grown up, Lex has to remind himself. He checks the closet just in case, even though they stopped playing that game years ago.
It's in the Kents' bedroom that Lex finds the Kent siblings.
"What are you kids up to?"
Caroline is the first to look up, so Lex chooses the space next to her when he gets waved over.
"Look what we found in Mom's closet."
She bounces on the bed, jostling Clark and Lex with the waves. Spread open over both their laps is a scrapbook filled with pictures of Clark and Martha's handwriting.
"We haven't gotten to the me parts," Caroline explains.
"And what was it you were doing in your mother's closet?"
"It was Clark!" She's quick with the accusing finger, but Clark's even quicker with the hurt face. Lex leans down to say in Caroline's ear, "Why am I not surprised?"
She giggles, and starts turning the pages to find 'the me parts'.
It looks like a baby book to Lex, a homemade version of the kind you can buy in the store. A place to record weights and favourite foods, to keep fabrics and locks of hair. But, like everything, Martha does it better. There are stories to go with every artifact and photograph: Clark's first day on the bus, Clark's first A. He grows older as the pages turn and Lex tries to guess which turn will reveal Caroline's baby picture, the one he keeps in his wallet, too.
Instead, the next page is Lex - the front page from the Ledger on the day of the accident, actually. Clark puts his hand on Caroline's to slow her down and starts turning the pages himself. There are more clippings - the announcement of LexCorp, a random profile, and stories about Plant Number Three - all Martha keeping an eye on him. There are snapshots from a Kent barbecue years ago where she managed to catch Clark and Lex leaning into each other a bit too closely. He remembers that moment perfectly, but it's a shock to see it from the outside. Behind Caroline, Clark lifts a hand to rub Lex's neck. He had known, but Lex never really understood. This was his family, and here were the stories to prove it.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Caroline bats Clark's slow hand away, impatiently. She doesn't remember a time when Lex wasn't a part of the family. "Is it time for me, yet?"
Clark flips ahead and finds a shot of Caroline in front of the school bus, echoing her brother exactly.
"That's me!" she exclaims.
Clark grabs his attention over Caroline's head while she reads her mother's story of the first day of school.
"Hey, are you good?"
He's great, and Lex is thinking about staying at least another day in Smallville.