stands_for_hope | At Home with Clark and Jim

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house of am

At Home with Clark and Jim

[continued from here]

They'd fallen into a routine pretty easily.

Clark had managed to write up something about the church bust without incriminating either of them, which meant that his Perry had been pleased enough with his work for the day and had only yelled at him for five minutes about his failure to show up in the office the whole day. Lois had ribbed him a little, which had been remarked upon as she usually gave the new guy hell if he did anything remotely out of the line, and then she'd ribbed him a lot. He hadn't minded too terribly much since he had visited her afterwards at her apartment and she'd done plenty of kissing to make it better.

With a second person in the apartment, he'd started to fix it up a little, bringing home new linens, keeping the fridge stocked more regularly, and he'd even managed to find a new couch for them through a very kindly older woman and Craigslist.

True to his word, he'd gotten some rudimentary identification for Jim and he walked through the door with a spring in his step, closing the door behind him and plopping it down on the kitchen table with a smile.

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He looks exceptionally pleased about the question.

"It's... hard to describe. But pretty tasty when prepared properly. I'll try some in the next meal I make. It's like a meat."

Jim shrugged. "I'll try it, then." He supposed it was easier for Clark that he was a blank slate and didn't really care too much what he ate. It meant he could eat whatever Clark made without any preconceptions going in.

Clark smiled a little at the response.

"See, you're a lot of fun to cook for. Always willing to try new things."

He ate a little more of his curry and it was obvious that he was thinking of something he wanted to ask, but he hadn't quite figured out how to ask it. Or maybe he was just waiting until Jim finished dinner.

He ate easily, considering the flavour, thinking about the next day, about work - about feeling like he could sustain himself. It was a pleasant feeling. More than he'd had in... longer than he could remember.

He'd need to stop measuring life by memories, anyway.

"I might have to buy boots with my first paycheck."

"Something wrong with yours?" he asked, sitting up a little.

"I can spot you until then. You shouldn't go into a site with shoddy footwear."

He shook his head. "Mine are good enough for the first week, but I'll need steel toed boots." Except he shrugged. "But I heal bone breaks fast."

That gets a stormy look.

"I can definitely spot you."

"You've been paying for everything except what I had." He'd had some savings. People tended to be generous when they saw a sign that said "Homeless Vet, Please Help."

"Because I would have been paying it anyway, for the most part. And you've done most of the work around here that I haven't had the time for."

He shook his head firmly.

"It's just a loan, and I really don't mind. You shouldn't chance a broken toe for something like that."

He thought about protesting further, but what would it gain? Some people were just determined to be do-gooders. "Fine," he said, "but I will repay you."

"I'll accept it. After all, I'm no Lex Luthor."

And truer words had never been said.

"This is just how I grew up. You help folks when they need it and they help you when you need it and no one worries too much about the particulars because as long as everyone's well and fed, there's not much reason to hassle anyone."

"I'm..."

What? He was ... wasn't? What.

"Not used to it. Anymore." That last word was important. Important enough that it swam up out of nowhere and practically insisted on being added.

"Don't worry. We'll have you used to it again."

If he was anything, he was an optimist.

He looked up and offered a small smile. Not much - barely enough to be called a smile at all, but it was enough to acknowledge that he understood.

Clark looks genuinely pleased before the thing he'd been thinking about earlier slipped back into the forefront of his mind. It's visible, but he rallies.

"I might even have a pair of steel toes in my things. I did a lot of odd jobs traveling and while I didn't have to worry about it myself, the foremen at a couple of them wouldn't let you on the site for insurance reasons. If you don't mind wearing a couple of pairs of socks for tomorrow."

That flicker was enough to make Jim wonder. Not quite enough to ask, but enough for him to nod. "I don't mind. I've done worse things than two pairs of socks."

"Sounds good. I'll dig them out tonight."

And then he was eating his food. After dinner. He'd mention it after dinner. He would.

God, he was terrible at waiting on things like this. Patience with people? Of course, but patience on things that needed doing was not his strong point.

The undercurrent was enough to have him on edge. Still, he focused on eating before he focused on anything else. No matter what, he would survive it better with a full stomach, even if that feeling was enough to make him wonder if he needed to pack what belongings he had and find another place in the city to shelter.

Odd how that felt like a loss.

As he ate, he tried to pin names to feelings. What was it that made him so uncertain? He was sure, at least in part, that it was an old, ingrained instinct that came from those memories he didn't want. Clark wasn't going to act against him. Plans wouldn't have been made just earlier in the night if he was. Clark wasn't like him. Didn't have that level of duplicity that he could fall to so easily - which was why his 'activities' caused him so much trouble. That was what made this all the stranger.

After about five minutes, Clark finally flopped back into the chair.

"I'm terrible at this. Really really terrible. It's just... there's something I want to tell you about and I'm not sure whether you want to know or whether you'd just like to go about your life as we're going because this? You and me and dinner and the new job? It's great. It's..."

He breathes out and looks right at Jim.

"It's home. Like I haven't felt for a while."

Since his father had died. The apartment was exactly the right size for the two of them, felt filled with the two of them. Making plans to go home for Thanksgiving, buying baseball tickets... they were friends and the best part, the part Clark had never had, they were friends without lies in the middle.

"But I can't not tell you. Because you should know."

He huffed out a breath.

"Lois thinks she might have found some HYDRA ties in the local government. Deep ties. She's sure she's onto something and Lois has a nose for this kind of thing and I wasn't sure if you'd want to know or if you just want to leave that all behind, but it's in Metropolis so...."

He waved his hands somewhat helplessly.

Jim listened in silence as Clark spoke, first tense, then easing a little, and then tense once more. The moment Clark said Hydra, all expression disappeared from his face. His thoughts spun. They knew, they'd followed him-- but sense prevailed. They couldn't have gotten deep into the local government in the short span of time since he'd been in the city. That means they were there first, but in a city the size of Metropolis, that wasn't unlikely. If he knew, if he'd learned, anything about Hydra since regaining his senses, it was that they were everywhere.

But already, a plan was starting to come together in his mind. Depending on just how high up, he knew how he could flush them out. "Does she know who?" he asked, his voice toneless and low.

He breathed out in something almost like relief but not quite: Jim was still blankfaced and toneless and it wasn't a look he particular liked on the other man.

"She has some code names, aliases. She's still trying to solidify the connections and she doesn't want to air the laundry until she's sure so she doesn't miss any snakes slipping away. But she brought me in on it, which means she's pretty close."

With a single nod, he looked down at what remained of his food - not much, he'd finish it through stubbornness alone as his appetite had gone - then back up at Clark. "I can expose them. They'll want me back."

And it wouldn't even be hard to do. All he'd have to do is locate one address - the address of the highest of the lot - and show up after dark. That would be enough to have them rallying.

It looked like he'd gotten a job at exactly the wrong time.

He shook his head.

"No, that's... that's not necessary, Jim. They're public figures, and when Lois makes the connections, she'll be able to ruin them, each and every one, keep them from hurting people anymore."

He looked over at his friend.

"You don't need to put yourself in danger. Or at least, you don't have to do this alone."

"I'm not the only soldier Hydra had. She may be in danger," he said. It wasn't a matter of her being a woman (even if something old in his mind said that you fought to protect women, not let women fight) - it was a matter of Hydra being that dangerous. "If I draw them out, they'll be easier to contain."

And possibly easier to dispose of. Not every Hydra agent was trained to fight. If he could get his weaponry, it would be a matter of ease to take care of them once he got them in one place.

"If she's in danger, then we save her," he replied.

He held up his hands.

"I didn't tell you to try and keep you out of it. I just... think we should consider some options that won't endanger your new life. And Lois is already a target if she's digging; I've been keeping an ear on her since she told me."

He was usually keeping an ear on her.

"Why have them expecting you when we could surprise the soldiers and lull the head honchos into a false sense of security? They're not afraid of Lois as anything more than a threat to be eliminated. You, I'm pretty sure they're afraid of."

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