"Well, fine. You have a busy day, son, I'd hate to keep you from your… work."
To Lex, Lionel's words sounded way too condescending.
After slamming his phone down a little harder than necessary, Lex leaned forward, put his elbows on the little bit of free space on his desk, and put his head in his hands. His fingers dug into his scalp, fingernails digging lightly into the skin, and he tried to put just enough pressure to take away the pounding headache making its way to the front of his head. Not that it would do much good - He had just finished talking with his father, he most certainly didn't expect to not have a headache from that. Lionel Luthor was the only person he knew who could make him feel this much pain without really trying.
Or maybe he was trying. Maybe it was all part of his evil master plan. Give Lex enough of a splitting headache so he couldn't get anymore work done that day. Maybe he was hoping Lex would just flunk everything, maybe he was hoping his son would have absolutely no choice but to come crawling back to him for help.
Lex's jaw twisted, teeth grinding together slowly, and he pressed tighter against his head. No. No. That was never, ever going to happen. The day he went to Lionel for anything ever again would be the day Hell froze over. Which, actually, he was pretty sure his father could arrange. With him being the Devil and all.
Or, at least. That was Lex's theory.
At least throwing insults at his father in his head was helping take his mind off of the inevitable pounding paints that were slowly growing stronger. He lifted his head and dropped one arm onto the desk, the other holding his head up as he rested his chin in his palm and turned his gaze to the pile of papers. Finally, he reached his free hand out to grab one and lifted it up to study it.
He'd barely read three words before he had to put the paper down again to dig his fingers into his eyes, trying once more to ward off the headache and failing miserably. Wonderful, he really wasn't getting any work done today.
This was one of the not-so-rare moments where Lex Luthor genuinely hated his life. And wanted to take the fake, plastic sword hanging up in the library and stab his father through the heart with it. Lex couldn't help but wonder if getting stabbed with a plastic sword would hurt more than a real one.
After mulling it over for a bit, he determined that yes, it would be worse. A real sword would plunge through too easily. There would need to be a lot of pressure, a lot of force, behind the plastic one. And that would hurt like a bitch.
He wondered if he could get away with killing his father. Just for a second, a quick, fleeting second.
And then he dismissed the thought and put his face in his hands again. He was honestly ready to just throw the towel in and go lie down for a bit when the doors suddenly burst open.
Lex bit back a groan, screwed his eyes shut, then forced them open and looked up, dropping his hands completely and lifting his head. He was pleasantly surprised to see Clark as opposed to the several other options as to who it could have been, but the surprise faded to confusion when he saw a large box in his friend's left hand, and a smaller one in the other. Lex squinted, staring for the longest time, before looking back up to meet Clark's gaze.
His friend was grinning, oblivious to the confusion, but it dropped when Lex finally opened his mouth to speak. "Is there some holiday I don't know about?" The youngest Luthor questioned slowly, blinking and narrowing his eyes. "It's not Christmas…"
Clark's smile dropped, and he stared at Lex in complete silence. Which gave Lex a minute or so to ponder and try to figure out what was going on before Clark spoke again. "... It's your birthday, Lex."
"What?" Lex stared at him numbly for a few seconds, bringing his hands together over the desk and clasping them together silently, twining his fingers together. And he then fell silent, continuing to stare at his best friend for an extended period of time while he mulled that over. His birthday. He couldn't even remember telling Clark when his birthday was. Honestly, the last time he'd ever even celebrated his birthday was before his mother died. Lionel had called it quits on any type of celebration after that, actually.
Which would explain why he hadn't said anything on the phone, either. Perhaps Lionel had forgotten, as well. And Lex couldn't even really blame the man, he'd gone years without even acknowledging that he had a birthday.
"It's… Your birthday?" Clark said tentatively, crossing forward and closing the distance between them for the most part. He set the boxes down on the desk, but Lex's gaze didn't linger on them for more than a few seconds. "September 28th? That's your birthday, isn't it?"
Lex, once again, wondered how Clark had gotten this information. "It's the day I was born, yes," he finally responded, leaning back slowly in his chair and staring up at Clark. His blue eyes narrowed, contemplating, before he finally had to ask, "how did you even know that?"
Clark's grin was back. "I have my sources." And then the smug smile dropped again, looking almost concerned. "How did you forget your own birthday?" He wondered, and Lex opened his mouth to respond, but Clark was speaking again before he could. "Well, actually, I forgot mine one year. So that's understandable. Then again, you aren't someone who forgets things so easily. Especially the important things…" He bit his lip, looking thoughtful.
Lex stared at him, listening to his quiet ramblings for a moment longer before speaking up, tentatively, "to be fair, it's not that important." He pushed his chair back a little and stood so he could stretch, slightly relieved that his headache was beginning to fade.
Clark was looking at him with that strange, concerned expression again. "Not im- Lex, it's your birthday," he said slowly, eyebrows slowly pulling together. Lex stared back at him, genuinely wondering so, what? as Clark continued, "it's an important day!"
"Why?" Lex couldn't keep the bewildered laugh out of his voice at this. "It's just like any other day. Why is it important?"
"'Cause it's the day you were born!" Clark exclaimed, as if it were completely obvious and he had a totally justified reason to be looking as mystified and miffed as he did in that current moment, staring at Lex as if he'd grown two heads, turned green and sprouted a snake tail and dragons spikes. Lex blinked once, then again, and then the corners of his lips turned up into a small, dry smile.
"And that's something to celebrate?"
"Lex!" Clark protested, baby blue eyes widening, and Lex waved a hand at him dismissively.
"Alright, calm down, Clark. I'm joking," he told him, despite the fact that he actually wasn't really joking and still had absolutely no clue as to why this day was so important, especially to Clark. He then directed his best friend's attention to the boxes, hoping that a subject change could lighten the mood a little bit and make Clark stop staring at him like he was clinically insane. "So, then, what are those?"
"Cupcakes," Clark said matter-of-factly, finally tearing his gaze away from Lex. He turned to the larger box first, easing the lid off carefully and setting it to the side. "Red velvet cupcakes with vanilla frosting. Your favorite. Right?"
Lex really, really needed to find out how Clark was getting this information. "Yes, actually," he replied carefully, keeping the surprise out of his voice as he stared at the cupcakes. And he stared for a good, long while, until Clark seemed to realize he wasn't paying attention to him anymore and put the lid back on the box, much to the Luthor's disappointment.
"Later," Clark promised, grinning at his expression, then picked up the smaller box and handed it to Lex. Who stared for a moment, as if it were an explosive, before reaching out and taking it carefully. "Keep in mind that the best present will come later. This is just to start the day off."
Lex blinked, and glanced up when those words sunk in. Start the day off? "What do you mean?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows at his best friend.
"Oh, yeah." Clark smiled at him as innocently as he always had, rocking back and forth on his feet and clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm kidnapping you. Just for today. And you might want to change into some more comfortable clothes. Maybe get a shower in. We'll be out for a while."
Lex frowned. The "kidnapping" idea in particular didn't sound too pleasurable, but a part of him was genuinely touched that Clark actually had made plans for his birthday. Regardless, Lex didn't think it was such a good idea. He hadn't celebrated since he was young - Not a day since his mother died. His birthday had never been much of a big deal to him anyway - In fact, it brought up some memories that Lex would rather have stayed repressed.
"Clark-" Lex started, and the deadpan look on Clark's face suggested that no matter what he said, he was either going to come quietly or he was going to be dragged out of his mansion kicking and screaming, and they were going to celebrate whether Lex liked it or not.
He wondered if it would be mean to call security on him, then dismissed the thought. He wouldn't do that, not to Clark. If his friend had gone through all the trouble to plan the day, the very least Lex could do was meet him halfway and let him drag him around for the day. It would make him happy, at least.
He looked down at the box, then cleared his throat and put it in his pocket. "I'll go get ready, then." The smile on Clark's face could probably light up all of Metropolis. His blue eyes lit with excitement, and if he'd had a tail, Lex was certain he'd be wagging it. Violently.
"Awesome!"
"Yes," Lex said slowly, already heading for the door. "Awesome."
Actually, it was awesome. Because Clark had taken him to see the first Warrior Angel movie - Lex hadn't seen it since he'd been… About nine or ten, maybe. So that was actually quite enjoyable. They'd finished off the cupcakes - And popcorn, and Lex had discovered that Clark could actually eat quite a bit. All in all, it hadn't been such a bad day. They'd come back to the mansion and hung out in the library for a while before Clark had to go home.
Before he'd left, though, he pulled Lex into a tight hug and squeezed softly. "Happy birthday, Lex."
And Lex, bewildered as he was, wrapped his arms around his best friend in return. "... Thank you, Clark."
And then he had gone, and Lex was alone in the library again. The good news, however, was that his head no longer hurt. And he'd actually smiled and laughed a lot more that day than he had probably in his entire life. Clark just had a way of doing that - Of making Lex forget everything. The darkness inside of him, who Lex really was… It was as if Clark erased the Luthor side of him.
Maybe that's why he was so attached to the kid, he made him feel like an actual human being rather than the spawn of Satan himself.
Lex looked down, curiously studying the box Clark had given him that morning. He had yet to open it, he'd been so distracted all day. The billionaire sighed, glancing toward the doors, then silently walked over and sat down on the couch, pulling the box up and silently removing the lid.
He actually did a double take, stunned at what he saw. It was a picture. Of his mother. Well, him and his mother. Lex was about… Five. Lillian was smiling so brightly, her arms wrapped around Lex from behind, holding him close against her. And Lex was smiling just as big, arms thrown back and wrapped around the back of her head as he snuggled into her arms.
Lex took in a deep, slightly shaky breath as he lifted the photo out of the box, still staring. Then, after a moment, he looked down to put it back in the box, his hand shaking slightly. Only to freeze, pulling back again.
It was a golden heart necklace inside, gleaming softly and reflecting the light from the fireplace. Lex felt a lump rise in his throat, turning his gaze back to the photo. Lillian was wearing the exact same necklace in the picture.
Finally, he dropped the photo beside him to pick the necklace up, lifting it carefully and turning it around in his hand. It couldn't possibly be hers - Lionel had it. Lionel had the necklace - Lionel had everything that had once been Lillian's. But, sure enough, her name was engraved in small, precise letters.
Lex sat back, dumbfounded, then looked down to pick up the photo. He stared at it for a moment, then, curious, turned it around. His gaze flickered over the words scribbled across the back. Don't forget.
But something was off, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. He stared, long and hard, thinking back on the earlier events of that day. Being confused as to how Clark knew when his birthday was, how he knew his favorite flavor of cupcakes, how he'd gotten the necklace, the photo…
He stared down, reading the words for about the hundredth time before it clicked. Lex leaned back, stunned, and his grip on both the photo and the necklace tightened.
"... Well, I'll be damned," he mumbled, his gaze flickering up, toward his desk. He stared at the phone for the longest time before dropping his gaze to the necklace, then the photo. He turned it around again, focusing on Lillian's face for a moment, and then swallowed back the rising lump in his throat once more and turned it back around to read the words on the back.
Don't forget.
And Lex Luthor promptly started laughing in pure disbelief when he finally realized what was off about the words, finally recognized the handwriting. "That son of a bitch…" He whispered, his eyes widening in awe for a moment as he stared down.
Because that, ladies and gentlemen, was none other than the handwriting of Lionel Luthor himself.