This was a hellish nightmare! In the span of a week, Lex has been shot at...twice. Lana once again kissed Clark, then dumped him. Chloe is pissed at him for some odd reason, and on top of all that, senior year at Smallville High sucked.
Every week meant a new missing person's ad or an obituary in the Torch. Too many students were getting killed and Clark couldn't save them. If it weren't for his mom and dad, he would have packed up and moved up north, far north. For months, he's been hiding up here in the barn. What hurt the most, no one has bothered to visit. No one except his parents...
"Clark?" Martha called. Her footsteps clacked on the steps as she came up to the loft. She found him sitting at my desk, faking an attempt at homework. "Clark, are you okay?" She held out a wrapped plate and the smell of fried chicken filled the room. Clark walked over to her, taking the plate. She sat on the worn, sunken couch and patted a spot next to her. He fell down beside her, putting the plate to the side. She shook her head, "You're not going to eat? Clark, you can't punish yourself for what everyone else has done. It's not healthy to hide up here all the time."
"I'm not hiding," He mumbled. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled sadly. He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Mom. It's just, Chloe and I are fighting again. Lana and me are...-I don't know what we are, and Lex-" He stopped, unable to continue. Between all the close calls, the bouts of vulnerability, and the constant suspicions, he and Lex grew miles apart. Clark knew he could try to understand Lex if he tried hard enough, but it was remarkable how black-and-white Lex was being the king of gray. He could understand Lex's darker moments if there were good intentions behind it. It's not like he was as white as snow either. "Lex wants either a complete human or a complete freak. He won't just accept that-that..."
"That he has a real life guardian angel?" Martha offered, with an amused smile. He nodded, cringing at how girly that sounded. She laughed. "I think because he was raised by monsters that he doesn't understand that there has to be people powerful enough to fight them. Being raised in Metropolis, it was really hard to learn that there were honest people out there that didn't have an ulterior motive. I can only imagine how Lex sees the world being raised to be used and manipulated." He sank in his seat, closing his eyes as frustration rose in him for the millionth time today. "Clark, I trust you." She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Your father and I raised you to do the right thing no matter what, but to also protect yourself from those same monsters. No matter what, we love you. And saying that, I called Lex." He rose up, his eyes going wide.
"What for?" He asked.
"I asked him how he was since that last shooting. He says he was fine, but you left before he could thank you. I think you should go see him." He blinked stupidly. She gave his shoulder another squeeze before standing to leave, pausing at the stairs. "Just go see him, Clark. You and your friends are pushing each other apart, and I just want to see you leave Smallville with at least one friend." She descended the stairs, leaving Clark sitting there, grasping at something to say. "Go see him." She called out firmly.
"Yes, Mr. Barnes, I understand that Queen Industries is the highest bidder on Gotham's industrial yards, but I can assure you that whatever they are offering, I can double it, and also insure that the legislation for the new tax reforms vanish." Lex waited patiently as he could almost see the fat executive sweating through his off-the-rack mismatched suit. The gruff man huffed over the phone, and Lex could hear him shuffling paperwork, then smiled as he heard some of it being shredded.
"Well, ahem, Mr. Luthor, I seemed to have misplaced the approval papers for Queen Industries so it appears you are in the running for the industrial yards." Lex smiled, tapping his fingers on the glass of his desk.
"I'm glad that you could see things my way. I'll have my assistants wire the money and send the proper paperwork." He hung up the phone, not bothering with a goodbye. That fat idiot wouldn't care either way. People these days just come and go. One fat-cat executive could easily replace another. True men of business, Lex's father would say, are a dying breed. It is our duty to bring back their legacy, Son.
Lex rolled his eyes, flipping his laptop closed and turning off the desklamp. His head was pounding and his eyes felt dry and crusty. His fingers ached for a cold tumbler of scotch, but one poisoning, another drunken haze where he had to fight his buzz long enough to dodge a bullet, and drinking had remarkably lost its appeal. Plus, he couldn't help but wonder how the Golden Boy that was Clark Kent viewed his drinking.
Ever since that damn day on the damn bridge, all of his life decisions were based on the reaction of Smallville's greatest hero. Every smile of approval lit his day like the sun, just as every time Clark stormed off in outrage sent him in a dark spiral filled with scotch and gold-diggers. The last time he sent Clark off the deep end, it sent him crashing so hard he ended up in a gutter in Metropolis, with no memory of the night before. That was a dark day. Then Martha Kent called, asking him how he was. The entire conversation he couldn't help but think in the back of his mind that Clark was so lucky to have a mother like her. So caring and loving, not unlike her son...
When Lex mentioned Clark, she jumped at the chance to offer him up for a visit. He accepted the offer only realizing afterward that Clark had no choice in the matter. He liked Martha even more after that, ignoring Clark's childish naivety to make them discuss whatever issue they seemed to have.
"Mr. Luthor!" Jerome's voice yelled over the intercom, startling Lex. He jammed his thumb on the speaker button.
"What is it?" he demanded. He paused, listening for a reply, but all that answered was static. "Jerome?" Static again. "Jerome!" The static buzzed and shifted, then clicked off. Ice rushed through Lex as a laugh started over the speaker.
"Hello, Mr. Luthor." The voice's accent was thick. Russian, Lex realized. "I do apologize for your security's overreaction. Good help is so hard to find these days." He heard footsteps thudding through the hall. He reached under his desk, retrieving the gun holstered to one of the metal legs. "Oh, Mr. Luthor, do put your weapon down. It won't do me any good to bring in a corpse." His arm lowered, but he didn't release the gun. Shadows passed in front of the glass doors before the thugs burst into the room, weapons drawn.
"Drop it!" the biggest one yelled, training his gun on Lex. His accent was American. Most likely hired help. Lex held the gun firmly in his hand, desperate for an opportunity to escape. The biggest one moved forward, letting his flunkies circle Lex. "I said drop it, Luthor." His finger tightened on the trigger, aiming it between his eyes. "Now," he growled. Lex gritted his teeth as his relaxed his grip on the gun, allowing one of the thugs to yank it from him. Two pairs of meaty, sweaty hands gripped his arms, dragging him off to the other side of the room. "Joe!" he snapped. A smaller man walked into the room, a computer propped on his arm. "You got the code?"
"Yeah, Boss." His voice sounded as young as his face, as if they had just yanked him out of technical school.
"Open the safe and get the stuff." The young man ran over to the bookshelf, quickly opening the secret panel and revealing the heavy safe door. He kneeled in front of the lock, breaking open the code panel, and hotwiring it to his laptop.
"If you wanted money, there were simpler channels you could have gone through." Lex said calmly. The big man laughed.
"It ain't money the boss wanted, rich boy." A large clang echoed through the room, meaning the door was opened. The little man disappeared into the safe, shifting around glass beakers and test tubes, until he returned with his arms full of files and a clear glass case full of green vials. Lex's heart plummeted.
"No!" Lex shouted, struggling against the henchmen. They held firm, leaving Lex helpless as the smaller man left with Lex's most prized research. "Look, whatever that maniac's paying you, I'll double it! That is very sensitive material you just took!"
"Chill, baldy. You're going with it-"
"LEX!" Lex's heart froze as he saw a familiar mess of black hair and red coat being dragged into the room, followed by the younger man again. He was briefly distracted by the glowing, vivid green of the refined meteor rock. A groan from Clark yanked my gaze back to him. My heart started racing again.
"Who the hell are you?!" The leader yelled, pointing his gun at Clark's head. Clark didn't answer. He was curled in on himself as if sick. The bright green of the meteor rock seemed to pulse each time Clark groaned. "String him up!" He snapped at the younger man. The little man knelt next to Clark, setting the glass case next to Clark's knees. His shoulders tensed, and Lex watched confused as he saw Clark supress a shudder. He also noticed Clark's body shying away from the meteor rock. A long realized fact clicked suddenly in his head.
"Get that away from him! It's hurting him!" Lex yelled frantically. The thugs looked up startled. The little man used to distraction to bind Clark's hands tightly. He bent down to retrieve the case, but the leader stopped him.
"No! Leave it. Tie up the kid and take him with us. The boss will love to have some leverage over our little Playboy." The henchmen hauled Clark away, despite Lex's protests. The kid followed them closely, trying to keep the case within inches of Clark's limp form. Lex continued to struggle, thrashing in their grip until a sharp blow behind his head made everything go black.
The first thing Lex realized was that he was lying on a carpeted floor. The cheek he was lying on was burning from the friction. He lifted up slowly, his head throbbing and his stomach rolling. The second thing he noticed was a sight that was too familiar. The seats were bolted to the floor, as was the tables. The chairs were turned so anyone sitting in them could have a clear view of the endless sky outstide of the jet's windows. Jet?! It was the interior of a private jet. Bile rose in his throat. There was no telling how long he was out and there was no telling where he was. And Clark...Clark!
"Clark!" He croaked, fighting off the urge to vomit. "Clark?!" He heard a groan coming from the lavatory. He struggled to his feet, lurching from side to side as his equilibrium fought to balance itself out. "Clark, talk to me. Are you okay?" He reached the sliding door, trying to pull it, but it was locked. "Clark, say something so I know you're okay." He felt the door give a hard jerk at the bottom, as if it was kicked. "Clark?"
"Lex, help me." Lex paused, taking a deep breath. He hadn't heard Clark's voice so helpless and broken since he found him in the memory tank. He took a step back, preparing himself.
"Clark, try to get away from the door. I'm going to try breaking it down." He waited a few seconds in silence, before kicking out with his foot. His leg jarred with the force of kicking the door. The panels gave under his foot, but it stayed locked. "One more time, Clark," he called. "Hang on!" He kicked the door again, and again, until he heard something metallic break.
"Lex!" Clark groaned. Lex shoved the door aside, and froze. Clark's hair was soaked with sweat and his face was deathly pale, reflecting the green glow of the vial duct-taped to his chest. His hands were bound behind him and he was lying on his side, his feet bound also. "Lex," he sighed, trying his hardest to curl in on himself in the cramped space. "Lex, get this off of me."
Lex knelt next to Clark, ripping away the tape and pulling the vial off of him. Clark cried out in relief as Lex tossed the vial to the other end of the plane. "Lex," he said, his voice stronger. "They took my phone. It feels like we've been flying forever." Lex bent over him to untie his hands and ankles.
"We're most likely out of the country." Clark gasped, but Lex continued. "The man on the intercom sounded Russian."
"We're going to Russia?!" Clark exclaimed. Lex shook his head, pulling away after Clark was free. Clark sat up, rubbing his wrists absently. His eyes were scared and sad. Lex fought to keep calm. They needed their heads in this. "Lex, what's going on?" Lex helped Clark stand, helping him out of the lavatory and into one of the plush chairs, where he sank in on himself.
"They are wanting one of my experiments and obviously me to finish the research." He knelt in front of the sickly farmboy, gripping his large shoulders. "Clark, no secrets. Is that meteor rock far enough away from you?" Clark looked at him, his face slack in fear. It's hard for him to hide when he's weak like this, Lex thought.
"No, not really. I'm still feeling sick." He said it plainly, almost resigned. Lex tried not to get angry. If this was a meteor mutation, it was easy to understand why he wouldn't want to broadcast it. Lex looked around the cabin helplessly. To get it any further away, he would have to throw it out of the plane. "Lex, how do the toilets in there work?" The odd question brought Lex back to look at Clark. His eyes were clenched in discomfort.
"Pretty standard to any other toilet, why?" Clark nodded and pointed towards the lavatory.
"When I was in there," he rubbed his cheek, where there was a faint bruise forming, "I was trying to scrape the bottle off of me into the toilet." He flinched and curled in on himself, looking ready to vomit. "If it's flushed, I think I'll feel better." Yes! Lex ran to the other end of the plane, lurching violently to the side as the plane was hit with turbulence. He fell over a little table, landing on his side, knocking the wind out of him. "Lex," Clark called, worried. The little vial of bright green liquid rolled in front of Lex's nose. He snatched it up, moving back over to Clark.
"I'm fine, Clark." Clark whimpered as the liquid came closer to him. "But this?" He said, holding the glowing vial in front of Clark's face. Clark squirmed, shying away from it. "This will be explained, Clark." He went into the lavatory, uncorking the vial and pouring the meteor rock into the toilet, flushing it. The green liquid was sucked down the drain, disappearing. "How's that?" I yelled.
"Better," he called. I sighed, my nerves calming.
Then the world exploded. A bright, hot white light flashed sending Lex into the mirror above the sink, his back exploding in sharp pain. He cried out, just as Clark screamed his name. Wind violently whipped around Lex as he left the lavatory, seeing the main cabin in shambles. One of the wings, along with half the hull, was missing. The sky beyond it was endless and there was no land in sight. The edges of the walls were charred and warped. Clark cried out again. It was only then Lex noticed the door to the cockpit torn open. The only person in the pilot's seat was Clark, desperately trying to level out the plane.
"Lex, up here!" Lex rushed up to the cockpit, hanging on to the furniture that survived the blast. He made it up to Clark, who had already looked as if he was healthy again. "The pilot took the only parachute. There wasn't anybody else." Lex jumped into the co-pilot's seat, taking hold of anything he could to help Clark land the plane.
"Now would be a good time for one of those miraculous saves, Clark!" Lex yelled over all the crash warnings.
"It's too soon!" He replied. "I have no idea how long it will take to get over that Kryptonite!" Lex watched Clark realize what he just said. Clark cursed, pressing any button within reach. "It's no use!" He yelled.
We finally caught sight of land, only it was spinning around us and getting larger with each passing second. Lex had a brief moment of dread when he noticed no green land and all white. Suddenly, everything around him blurred and the next thing he saw was Clark's face above his, somewhere else in the back of the plane.
"Lex," he yelled over the wind. "Put your arms around me, hold on, and close your eyes. No matter what, don't let go." Lex heard the wind picking up speed and volume. Terror rose in him, forcing him to panic.
"Clark, if we die-" He started, but Clark took his arms, wrapping them around his middle.
"Shut up and hold on, Lex!" He snapped. I gripped my arms together, shutting my eyes tightly. Clark covered his body with his, trying to best tuck Lex into his chest, then held on as they crashed into the ground with a loud echo of crumpling metal. The force of the crash sent Clark and Lex rolling to the far end of the plane, back into the cockpit. Clark reached out a hand, gripping the pilot's chair in one hand, crushing the metal post it stood on. Lex heard the small groan of metal bending over the turmoil of a crashing plane. He opened his eyes a small bit, then they flew wide when they saw Clark's hand embedded in the metal, holding it in his fist like crumpled tin foil. "Hold on!" Clark cried, holding Lex around his waist. Lex shut his eyes tight again, feeling the plane turn over and over again, rolling down some kind of hill. The jet then gave a sickening lurch, and then we're free-falling, falling off a cliff. Clark and Lex screamed in terror, then they hit solid ground. The force would have sent both into the front windows if it were not for Clark's strong grip, but the grip was so tight, Lex felt something snap inside of him, making him cry out in pain. The plane stilled, groaning as it slowed, then finally stopped. For what seemed like forever, they lied there breathing raggedly, and in Lex's case, groaning in agony.
"I think you broke something." He groaned. Clark suddenly released him, lying him gently on the floor of the cockpit. When Lex straightened, he cried out as a sharp pain speared through both his back and his side. He looked up at Clark, then the chair, which had Clark's handprint perfectly embedded in the metal. Clark shook his head, panicking.
"No! Lex, I'm sorry." Anger rose in Lex. Even after all of this, he still is trying to deny Lex the only thing he's ever wanted from Clark.
"Sorry about what?!" He snapped. "Clark, after all of this, how in the hell can you possibly look me in the eye and try to lie?" He looked away. "Look at me, dammit! What makes you possibly think that I would believe-" A brief flash of red on Clark's arm stopped me. "Clark! You're bleeding." Clark's brows furrowed in confusion, then shook his head.
"I'm not hurt, Lex." His eyes widened in comprehension and he rushed around behind Lex. "Lex, your back! There's glass!" Lex twisted around ignoring the pain in his back and side, and caught a glimpse of large shards of mirrored glass sticking grotesquely out of his back. Blood loss then hit him like a tidal wave.
"Would you look at that?" He managed to slur before everything went black again.