Chapter Text
The water kept dripping onto the top of his head. It was the only sensation, the only sound or feel until it wasn't until there was a jostling inside him and a voice outside. "Did you miss me?"
"No." The com would click, the vibration would stop and he would be alone except for that steady drip. Then a day was skipping, another, a third or maybe not, maybe it had been hours he was losing his ability to tell.
"Did you miss me?"
"What do you want?" The com clicked the vibration stopped, another day, maybe.
"Did you miss me?" There was only one answer but it was a lie wasn't it? Clark didn't miss him did he?
"No." Yet being alone was worse, was worse than having no one at all. Another unknown amount of time, it seemed shorter but he had no idea. His captors thought he was breaking, knew he was breaking.
"Did you miss me?"
"No!" Clark was not broken yet. More time, long, short, day night What was it? Who was it again?
"Did you miss me?"
"No." Defiance was dying. He needed to get out. This was not the way. He had to give up his pride. He came to peace with that in the dark.
"Did you miss me?"
". . . Yes." A light turned on and Clark felt joy, and then awful for feeling joy. "Thank-" Clark bit his tounge.
"Finish . . . Or the light goes off." He'd wasted days in the dark on pride, there was no point.
"Thank you."
"Do you think he would have held out longer? Or figured out sooner that only the answers I want matter?"
"I Don't know."
"No. You don't know much of anything do you."
"I don't know." He knew he was tired, very tired.
"Do you think he stopped looking for you? Do you think he ever started? He would have found you by now don't you think? Perhaps he saved himself. Perhaps he died trying to save you." Bruce, he'd been brought here with Clark.
"He's looking for me. I'll find him."
"I'm here to pull the truth from you Kal."
"Clark."
"Two lies in a row." The light turned off. "You Don't know if he is looking." The churning inside him turned off. "And You're not Clark." More time passed and Clark stopped trying to measure it.
The jostling started up. "Did you miss me?"
"Yes." An irrelevant answer that brought a light.
"What do you say?"
"Thank you." A concession to keep the comfort.
"What is your name?"
"Clark."
"No. That's not your name Kal. For someone to have given you a name . . . And meant it they would have had to care about you. No one cares about you. Or else someone would have come by now."
"He's coming."
"Those same two lies." The light went off.
"No is coming. No one cares." The jostling stopped. "Clark is not your name." He was alone again. Time, Clark hated time, time meant loneliness.
Jostling, attention. "Did you miss me?"
"Yes." Light, warmth.
"Thank you." Comfort.
"Hmm." There was no emotion, no pleased Humm, that was merely observational but it was new and it starved off time, Clark hated time.
"What is your name?" Clark tried something new, tried silence, not the answer he knew, not the answer the man wanted just silence. "Exactly. You have no name, you are nothing. No one cares for you, no one is coming. Do you know how I know?" Clark tried silence again.
"I did not come here to speak to myself." The light went off but the toy didn't stop.
"Turn it off please?"
"I will be back in two hours." Time, an exact amount of time.
"Did you miss me?"
"Yes!" Clark wanted the toy off.
"I will give you a choice. I can turn that off or turn the light on. Which?" Clark knew his captor would walk away to silence again. What did he want? Light or pride?
"Light." He blinked in the space, breathing a bit more relaxed.
"Do you know how I know no one cares about you, that you don't know what care is?"
". . . How?"
"You're seconds from cumming just because I turned on a light. That is care to you, pleasure."
"No."
"If you cum now I'll leave the light on for six hours." Pride . . . How much pride did Clark have left to give? Was it worth it to distinguish time? To have comfort. Yes, that would keep him sane for when he was rescued.
Clark let go of the cliff face he'd been clutching to, he groaned, he came. The toy turned off. "Look at your superman now, nothing but a lightswitch." Who was he saying that to?
It had been a long while since those six hours had been up, since he'd been left in the dark. Someone had removed the toy, during a period he'd slipped into unconsciousness. He was empty and alone and in the dark, for days.
"Did you miss me?"
"Yes." The light didn't turn on, why didn't it turn on?
"What are you?" Not what is your name, the question had changed. What was the answer that got the light back? Not Clark, not a man.
"Nothing? . . . A lightswitch?"
"You seem uncertain. Try turning on the light, you know what to do." The bonds keeping his hands behind his back were released, clearing up any confusion.
Clark took himself in hand, worked himself to completion quietly, coldly, broken. The light came on. "What do you say?"
"Thank you." Clark let tears that he'd built up fall down his already wet face.
"The light will go out periodically, you can turn it back on. Just remember to be thankful." The man left again. This was how time passed. This was his life, no not life, existence. His only purpose, the only goal that seemed worthwhile was wringing himself dry to keep the lights on and thanking whoever allowed that.