Zod Returns: A sequel to One Fine Day, in which Lex activated the device to control Clark, which allowed him and Brainiac to take control of the world, with Clark obediently following any orders they give. Now Fine wants to bring General Zod to Earth. Clark can't let that happen. Warnings are the same as OFD, slash, some non-con, references to child abuse, AU, a little OOC, and two new ones. Obviously the first part of this story was written before we knew what the crystal actually did, so I'm going to keep it the way I originally wrote it (the device turned Kal-el into Luthor's slave). Also switching point of view to Lex's.
After dinner, we took Clark upstairs for a bath, and washed his hair, twice. We took him out of the tub, dried him, off, brushed, styled, and blow-dried those beautiful, curly brown locks, making them very soft, and perfect looking. Zod would appreciate our efforts, and enjoy him better if he looked this way, Milt said. Then, I rubbed sweet scented lotion into his feet, and all the way up to his face, pausing at the hips, and gazed longingly, at what would soon belong to the General, what would most likely never be mine again.
Fine was too busy to pay attention our little exchange, but Clark noticed my stare, and when I ran a warm, sticky hand over is cock, he lifted his hips up, arching into my touch, mouthing the words, I want you. This was very new, and very different from his usual behavior. Most of the time, he acted as if the simple act of my putting my hand on top of his was a brutal assault. He cringed when we made love, and cried himself to sleep at night. Milt called him pathetic, and—had I not interfered—would have punished him severely for it. I, on the other hand, was the nice one. I hated to harm him, now that we'd gotten used to things. I even felt something approaching love for the alien.
Fine promised me I would always be an equal partner, and that Clark would be as much mine as ever, but I had a strong feeling that he wasn't being completely honest. Zod didn't seem like the sort of person who shared his toys. Not that Kal-el was a toy. I didn't think of him that way, now. When I first activated the crystal and took control over him, he only stayed because he had to follow my every command, but then, over the years, he fell in love with me. We were gentle with Clark, strict, but mostly caring. We only punished him when he was overly insubordinate. Most of the time, Clark knew the limits, but like any child had to test them every so often. As time went on, those incidents became fewer and farther between. And, with time, we were able to come up with better punishments. I hated what Kryptonite did to him, never used it myself, and tried to prevent Fine from exposing him to the green stuff as much as possible. Considering how evil, sadistic, and cruel some of the people on this planet used to be, Clark could have ended up in the hands of someone far worse, and I think he knew it. His behavior improved tremendously after the first few years in captivity. Now, he didn't cry as often. He didn't fight back as much. He even smiled, just not very often. And while although technically still under my control, he could have run away years ago, and I probably would have let him, but Kal-el never so much as mentioned wanting to leave, let alone attempted an escape.
I looked down at his slim, muscular body, shining gloriously in the moonlight, and smiled, reaching out to stroke his hair. Milt finally noticed the way I was watching Clark, and smiled, clapping me on the shoulder.
"Make sure he takes another shower before we bring him up to the fortress tomorrow at 11:00," he told me. Kal-el sat on the bed, staring into space, as I pulled his pajamas on, most likely wondering why we bothered, as they would be coming off very soon. "Also, he's going to need a good nights sleep. The general wouldn't want him to fall into slumber in the midst of passion." He headed for the door, still smiling.
"No," Clark gasped, barely audible. "Please don't make me take one of those pills. I'll be good. I'll sleep. I promise!" The pills were Fine's invention. Shortly after moving into the mansion, my lover had his first bout of insomnia. Three weeks went by before we noticed, because he slept by himself—see how nice we are to him—in a private bedroom. He passed out during dinner. Luckily, no one but us was there. Following that, Milt started on a new project. Using small amounts of chemically altered Kryptonite dust (purple k) and a few other ingredients he didn't feel like disclosing, he created a capsule. They worked on Kal, like a regular sleeping pill would on me. Clark claimed they gave him nightmares, his excuse for not wanting to take them, but I was fairly certain it was a control issue. He didn't like to relinquish control over anything, and sleeping pills forced him to be unconscious and even more out of control of his own body, than he was while awake.
"Maybe he's right," I tried to suggest, sitting close to Clark on the bed, and touching is shoulder. He only finished a tiny bit, which is probably why I saw it, but Fine didn't. "I'll make sure he goes to bed on time, and stays asleep." He left to get the meds, despite both of our protests, and Clark reached for me, grabbing a hold of my shirt, looking up at me desperately.
"Lex, we need to talk. This Zod thing is a big deal. The man is a monster and a tyrant. He killed millions of people, and not just to keep them from speaking out against him. He does it for fun!" Before I could say anything in response to this, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We have to…you need to listen to me," he begged, sounding almost terrified.
"Milt said you'd say that, or so something like it. I know what's going on here. You're just afraid because he isn't going to be as nice as I am," I said, chuckling. "Listen, Clark, before a change like this…it's only natural for you to feel afraid, but don't worry. We'll take good care of you, and I will be here, always."
"But, Brainiac is lying to you! The last time he came to Earth, he killed a lot of people, injured hundreds more. The physical damage he did to the world took months to clean up. All he wants is absolute power and you—Lex, he hurt me." I was having an extremely difficult time reading his facial expressions. Kal-el turned away, looking at something on the other side of the room.
"Hurt you how?" I prodded. Kal-el placed a finger over his lips. Shh. Milt didn't knock when he reached the door, or speak to announce is presence, or anything. He walked in, placed two glowing lilac-colored tablets and a glass of water on the bedside table.
"Make sure he takes them, gets at least eight hours of sleep, and then clean him up again in the morning," Fine ordered, before turning around, and exiting Clark's bedroom. The frightened boy reached for the pills, his eyes empty, and a little wet.
"Hurt you how?" This time the question was far from gentle. He and I never discussed what "I" had done as Zod, in any way shape or form. We just tried to pretend it never happened, much like we did with the transference thing, and while we had our share of problems these days, I'd noticed the change in is behavior around me years before I activated the crystal. He couldn't be near me for months after that, and even for a year past the point where he claimed be "over it" Clark still flinched if I touched him without warning, or in certain places, in certain ways. "If you're making up stories for…" Unsure what he thought he was going to accomplish, but knowing he must an agenda, I stopped myself.
"We got into a physical battle, but it was difficult. I couldn't, hit him. It was you; but not you, and he knew that I had feelings for you. He said something like," Clark cut himself off, made a soft whimpering sound, and looked away again. "He said, "Lex has strong desires for you, Kal-l, and I can see why." I'd just gotten out of the Phantom Zone, and almost all of my strength was gone. After a long fight, it got to the point were I wasn't able to even stand up anymore. Ten he squatted beside me and touched my hair. He did something then, hit me in a pressure point, in my neck, and I don't know how, but I was—paralyzed, but I still felt everything. Everything. Zod touched me again, stroking my cheek. Even with all the pain, even though I couldn't move, I still tried to fight back. He told me I was pathetic, but beautiful. Then he. That's when he," Clark stammered. "The worst part was that right before Zod went into your body, things were going really well between you and me. I was getting ready to sleep with you, give you my virginity. I tried to tell myself, it's not him. That's not Lex, but nothing helped. He used your body to have sex with me, and then let me trap him in the Phantom Zone so that we could never have a relationship." He seemed far more upset by what was going on than I'd expected. Of course, had I known about their history, I may have tried to convince Fine to delay the General's arrival, until Kal-el was more comfortable with the idea.
"You had to know that this was coming," I tried to explain, and gently brushed a bit of hair out of is face. "Milt and I have been talking about bringing Zod back for years. It was only a matter of time before we figured out how to do it. The general liked you. It'll be difficult at first, but this is a greatest honor."
"Lex would you listen to yourself?" he shouted. "Even after all you've done to me, I know where I stand. I know the way you're going to hurt me, and how often. I also know you still have good intentions. You think you're saving the world, which means that all the bad things you've done can be excused, but Zod and Brainiac only care about domination, and having…they will blow up the whole planet if it increases their control even a tiny bit. And they don't need you anymore, so as soon as Zod has the people were he wants them, he'll kill you. And after I produce an heir, he'll kill me. After that, Earth won't stand a chance." I stared at him, my jaw hanging halfway to the floor, debating as to how much of this I ought to believe and how much he was making up. Clark curled up on his side, and closed his eyes. "Now if you wanna sleep with me, please just do it now, I have to rest up for my big day, take those pills, and have my nightmares."
"Just go to bed Clark. I, uh, I'll take care of the pills, so you don't have to worry about that, or uh—anything. I…you're right. You have a big day tomorrow." He swallowed the sleeping pills nonetheless, and was asleep in ten minutes.
I watched him for about an hour, sitting beside him on the bed, and then I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I had gone back in time, at least ten, twelve years. I was back in Smallville, in my office, with papers piled up all around me, when the doors burst open and Clark flew in. He poured himself a glass of scotch, and yelled at me for stealing it from my father.
"How did you know that it belonged to my father?" I asked, looking up at him doe-eyed and innocently.
"Isn't everything his? The scotch, the private jets, the cars, right down to the very cufflinks in your sleeves. Everything belongs to Lionel doesn't it?" he asked, moving closer, standing over my chair, looking at me as if I were a piece of chocolate cake. "I need to get out of town for a while, and require some cash in order to facilitate this process." He asked for $57,000,000, and I asked how he came up with that exact amount. "It's not your money; you stole it." Suddenly I felt dizzy. The world spun and stretched back and forth.
"Dad?" I managed to croak before he grabbed me by the neck, squeezing my throat, pressing his thumb against my larynx. My vision swam and was coated in a deep, blood red. He beat me, knocked me around, and threatened to kill me if I didn't give him the money. Then, he was pressed up against me, his cock hard, straining against the front of Clark's jeans. In real Martha Kent rushed in, and saved me, but in the dreams no one ever shows up. Lionel—in Clark—bends me over the desk and…
I awoke drenched in sweat, and short of breath. Next to me lay a similar creature. I must have looked exactly the same way, just a few minute before, except he was slightly trimmer, and had better hair. I shook him gently, waking the boy up. "You were having a bad dream," I explained. Kal-el nodded, sadly. "Even if I believed you about Zod—and I'm not saying I do—it's out of my hands. Clark, just, look at me."
He didn't move. "Damnit, Kal-el, when did it become okay for you to disregard a direct order from me?" This time is body did respond (first with a nearly undetectable flinch) as he rolled over to face me, his blue eyes red rimed, two dark crescents under them. Between the crying, the physical exhaustion, and the tiny lines in the corners of his eyes and mouth, the boy looked a good fifteen years older than his actual age. "What are you trying to do?" I wrapped my arms around him. Kal pushed me away from him, stood up, raced to the bathroom, locking himself inside.
Crap, I thought. This is not good. Terrified and sitting in a bathtub, he wasn't going to get any sleep, and come morning he would be ready to pass out. Milt would get mad, and most likely take it out (not on me in the slightest) on the poor kid. I told myself I was an idiot for caring. I told myself to stand up, go run and get Fine right now, before the situation got out of hand. I told myself it was hopeless, but something in my heart wouldn't listen. I walked to the door, pretending it actually had a locking mechanism, and that there wasn't a hunk of Kryptonite ten feet away. I could have easily broken the door down, and forced him back into bed. I knocked on the door. "Clark, you gotta talk to me. I can't help you if I don't know what I'm up against."
"You don't care," he cried. It wasn't hard to visualize the guy, dressed in those red and blue pajamas, sitting on the tiled floor, his back against the wooden door, knees up against his chest, his thin frame doubled over, wracked with sobs. He was probably shaking, hair messy, eyes wet. This wasn't a game. This wasn't an act. Clark knew how much trouble he could get into running away like that, hiding.
Fine would hurt him, badly, regardless of what might be coming in the morning, and Clark hated those punishments. So did I. They were painful, and terrifying, and humiliating. If Kal-el, were willing to expose himself to that kind of trouble, then something far more terrible than I could understand had to be going on here.
"I know you're not trying to trick me, and I'm sorry about the accusation. It won't happen again." I could picture him rolling his eyes, a gesture that used to break my heart. Only, ever since I had taken control of him, I hadn't seen the guy rebel so strongly. This was another important sign. He really though he had nothing to lose.
"Yeah, right," he whimpered. I wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek, or hair, or anything. "I'm just an idiot who couldn't see this coming." I didn't know what to say, and kept my mouth shut. "What? Not gonna yell at me? Call me a name? Break down the door and fuck me, hurt me?"
"I'd rather listen to what you have to say," I tried to explain, gently. I could practically hear the guy flinch, yet again.
"Why should I tell you anything? So you can tell Brainiac what I'm up to? That I think the General is evil and I want to stop you guys from getting him out of the Phantom Zone.
"No, I'm, not going to tell him. If I were planning to do that, I would have gotten the guy already. You really think…I'm," I paused, almost afraid to ask this question. "Do you really think I'm evil?" He hadn't actually said the words, but it was implied. Sort of. That's why I asked.
"Well, a little bit, yeah, but you're not completely hopeless, or else I wouldn't bother. If we're actually gonna do this, it has to be quick. We don't have much time." I sighed, lowering myself to the carpet, and placing my hand on the door, hoping he would see it, and either open up or put his hand on the other side. "Zod is a monster, Lex. He killed, everyone on Krypton died because of his struggle for power."
"But he already has power here. He'll rule Earth. Milt is—Milt told me he was designed to carry Zod off of the planet but Jor-el sentenced him to the Phantom Zone before they had the chance. He's gonna be the vessel this time, because it would kill me to take on the General for more than a day or two, and then there'd be nowhere for him to go. And Brainiac will be gone." I thought this would mean something, but it was pretty stupid of me, a fact Clark pointed out nervously.
"Besides, that won't be enough!" This time Kal-el spoke with real passion. He wasn't quiet, shy, frustrated, nor was he attempting to start a fight, but there was something in his voice. Something I hadn't heard since we were kids in Smallville.
"So, what he'll wage war on other planets, potentially destroying both worlds and getting himself killed in the process? Just to get a tiny bit of extra power?"
"With Zod, nothing is impossible. If he wants something, he takes it. I doubt he even considers the possibilities, or if he does, it doesn't matter how many people get hurt or killed, what gets lost in the battle, as long as—and he…doesn't need you anymore."
"Even if I believe this—and I'm still not saying I do—there isn't exactly a lot of time to come up with a plan. What are we supposed to do? Have you even considered that Kal-el or are you just acting out of the fear of…" his crying cut me off. "What? Clark come on; open the door so I can see you, so I can hold you." He responded exactly as I ordered, but not because it was what he wanted. Clark probably would have walked over, sat down where I told him to, and done whatever I asked of him, had I not noticed the sheer terror in his eyes. The young man was absolutely horrified, scared of me, and I had never noticed before. "You know what? I can see you, and it's okay to say there. I promise, and there's…as long as we're sharing stories, there's something I never told you about either.
"When Lionel did the transference thing, he used your body." I was stuttering, ashamed, embarrassed, and in pain. "You know that he used to touch me when I was a kid, when I was a teenager, and he tried—he hurt me a couple of times right before he sent me to Smallville, and managed to overpower me a few on a few more occasions before he died. You knew all that, but what I didn't tell you, was what he did—what he tried to do when he was in your body. He came into my office, furious, and tried to get some money, extort me. Then he grabbed my body, beat me up, bashed my face into the desk, and he was about to rape me, using your body, when your mother came in and saved my life, probably. If he had—done what he was planning, he would have ripped me in half. I never told you. I never told anybody. Nothing happened, but… So, I can't even imagine how you must feel. What you went through."
"See, that's exactly why I asked for your help, because you are a good person, deep down inside. You want to be good. You want to do right. And you will. I'm sorry for what Lionel did. I'm sorry for everything he ever did to you. I'm sorry for all the bad things in your life, and I'm sorry for lying to you for so many years. If I had just told you the truth when I was a teenager, everything would have worked out ok."
"Jesus I don't deserve you." Then he did stand up, move over, and sit down beside me. He was quiet, pressing his head against my shoulder, the way we used to when we were younger, and closer.
"I guess we have to do whatever it takes to keep Milt from executing his plan. We have to stop him. We have to do—whatever it takes…" I couldn't help but wonder, if couldn't bring himself to say the words kill Brainiac, how were we supposed to actually do the thing? The two of us sighed. Clark reached for me, his hand straight out. I gave him mine, and let him squeeze, ignoring the intense pain in my fingers. "Sorry." I'm not used to, you know, actually touching people. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know. If you wanted to hurt me, my hand would be a pile of dust right now." We both purposely avoided the other conversation. Until one of us said the words, it was as if the thoughts themselves didn't exist, as if the deeds would never happen.
"So there's no way around it?" I asked, after what felt like an eternity. Clark watched me, staring at my face, as if trying to read my mind "There has to be something else we can do, some other way to go about it. Just give me more time. I'll come up it the most brilliant plan you could ever imagine. We—no one would ever suspect me of plotting to kill Milton Fine, but I'll come up with the most brilliant, unbelievably creative idea in all of history, but…I need more time. I can do it. I know I can. It's just gonna take me a couple of—"
"We don't have a couple of days Lex! Milt's going to bring Zod back to Earth tomorrow. And then it'll be too late to do anything. Lex, we have to do this. We have to destroy the Brain Interactive Construct, for good. We have to kill it, and we have to do it, now." I nodded, sighing. As had always been the case in the good ol' days, Clark Kent was right. We had to keep Zod from destroying the planet—our planet—at all costs.
"Yeah, I know." I wasn't sure what else to say. "Are you sure about this?" I asked. Clark made a face. His eyes watered slightly, like a little boy. He seemed so fragile, hurt, lost, confused, and terrified. His blue eyes were cold, almost empty. I knew that expression well. I'd seen the same one many times in my bedroom mirror, especially when I was a little boy. Um, the thing is, Clark, I've never actually, physically murdered anybody. Not intentionally. Even with Lionel, it was an accident. I wanted answers. He wanted—me. Despite all evidence to the contrary that man never changed. We argued. He grabbed my arm, forced me up against the wall, pushed me into position. When my father leaned up against me, I could feel…he was…he had an," I blubbered, but managed to stop myself. "Lionel touched my face, tried to kiss me, but I—and even to this day, I never figured out how—I managed to wiggle out of his grasp. He chased after, and tackled me. I grabbed the gun again, pointed it at him, and said if he ever touched me again, I'd blow his brains out. He just laughed and said I had a—I didn't have the constitution to murder anyone, not even him. The struggle got out of hand. He fell out the window, and I tried to—there wasn't time to reach for him, to pull him up. You at least have some experience, even if you didn't want to kill those people. And then there's your cousin."
"I didn't kill her! Kara's not dead; at least she wasn't dead when Fine locked her in the Phantom Zone. Those monsters probably killed her by now, but she was alive, and you could of saved her. I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. He said all the right things, tricked you. Brainiac won't be the same as any of the people I had to kill. Kryptonite doesn't work on him. He has all my powers, and then some, but nothing can kill or hurt him—it."
"Actually there is one thing," I explained. "When you were, first—when we first activated the crystal, you were—it said we had to keep you in this cage thing at night, while you slept. I hated that cage, wanted to just give you a bedroom, a private place. Even then I didn't completely want to hurt you, not all the time, not in every way. I hated a lot of things he did to you, and tried to make them stop."
"I remember the cage," he admitted, seeming humiliated, but not in pain, or frightened.
"Well, he said he knew what it was like. He told me that he once found himself in a similar situation. He even gave me the details—the exact details on how he was captured. The only problem is that it requires some pretty advanced technology. We don't have the exact same machine on Earth. I'd have to build one myself."
"But you can do it, right, Lex? Because I know how smart you are. I know you can do it." So sweet. So innocent. So naive. Even after everything, Clark was exactly the same as he had always been.
"You don't even know what's involved," I snapped. He flinched once more when I raised my voice. I wrapped my arms around him, and he let me. "I think—I know I can do it. I'm pretty sure. The real issue is time. We have—if we're lucky—eight or nine hours. We're cutting it close, and if Brainiac finds out you will find yourself back in the Kryptonite cuffs and in a cage on a regular basis, probably for the rest of your life. If he doesn't kill me, I'll be made into a toy for the General to—play with." Kal-el's face was soft, filled with anguish, as if attempting to decide which of our upcoming situations was worse. "I'm not saying no. I'm not telling you these things to hurt or upset you, but…it's important you know what's at stake." I watched him lean back, pulling away from me, staring into the distance, deep in contemplation.
It didn't take him very long to come up with an answer, but I was still deeply disturbed when he said, "I don't think my life would change all that much if I get caught. So I don't care, but you can't live like that. Not after what Lionel did. It'll kill you, break your heart, and your spirit. If Brainiac finds out what we're doing, I'll kill you, instantly, painlessly, before he gets the chance to lay a finger on you," he offered. I didn't think I deserved this, or much of anything. I had no choice. I had to do this. It was the only way I could make up for all the evil things I'd done. I knew I could not blame Milton Fine/ Brainiac for all of my misdeeds, or any of them. I was still an evil monster, and would never make up for what I'd done. Once again I became overwhelmed.
"Clark I—I'm the worst man in all of history. Forget Hitler, forget Genghis Kahn, I—what have I done? Even my father—he only murdered about—well it's a significantly smaller number than my own, and he—I'm worse a worse person than Lionel," I whimpered, actually fucking whimpered. I hadn't shed a tear since I was a very, very, young child. I couldn't believe what had happened to me. I probably would have cried for hours, before lapsing into catatonia for all eternity, if Clark hadn't reacted so quickly. He reached over, grabbing my shirt by its lapels, and shook me, not violently, but with just enough force to bring me out of my own self pity.
"Lex you have to be strong; just for tonight. You have to do this," he instructed. "You've gotta build that device thingy. You have to trap Brainiac before he can bring Zod back to Earth. We've only got a few hours. You can fall apart after that, okay?" I nodded, weakly. "What do you need to build the trap," he asked, like he was planning to dash off and get it for me. I shook my head, and pulled him up onto his feet, dragging his body to the bed. He cringed, a mad ea little sound like a small, injured animal.
"Just relax, okay, Clark? I'm not gonna hurt you. Just lie here, and pretend to be asleep. I don't think he's—it's come back, but just in case. Whatever you do, don't leave this room. Milt will find, and hurt you." I leaned over his beautiful, soft, fragile body, stroking his hair once more. 'But I won't, not ever, ever again, I promise." He nodded, his whole body still clenched. "I'll be right back; I'm not trying to hurt or trick you. I know it must seem that way, but I'm not." Clark closed his eyes, and rolled onto his left side, curling into a fetal ball. I wished that I could stay there, but it just wasn't an option. I was a man with a mission wit much to do and only a very sort amount of time to do it in. I was going to kill Brainiac, prevent the second coming of Zod, protect Clark, and save the world.