Day Fifteen by katryne
Summary: yet another post-Exodus-Lex-stranded-on-an-island story.
-------------
Lex has gotten good at predicting the waves.
Lex has made a little game, playing tag with the coming waves. So far he's been winning, but sometimes he just sits and lets the waves wash over his aching feet.
The sand chafes against his newly-shed skin, and Lex grits his teeth against the pain. He tries to ignore the distressed rumbling of his stomach; that's one more fruit he knows not to touch.
He stares at the sky, actually enjoying the sun now that his face has stopped feeling red and raw. He wills the clouds above into a tableau of his future: that little wisp is Helen, kneeling, begging for mercy. The heavy storm-bearing one in the distance is Lionel, misty blood flowing out his mouth. He couldn't seem to get his own expression of satisfaction right, but it comforts him to see Clark by his side so readily conjured up by the sky.
He closes his eyes, and feels the blood clotting on his skin.