Abaris' Arrow
by linda-seton
In answer to the Smallville Fanfiction Greek Mythology Challenge
A thin hand places a miniature tape recorder on the surface of a desk and hits play.
A man's voice, bored and tired, begins, "March, 8th 1993. This is the fourth scheduled appointment I have had with Alexander Luthor. His father, Lionel Luthor, has cancelled and rescheduled for a variety of reasons. Luthor Sr. is just trying to establish who is really in charge of his son's court mandated appointment with me."
There is a moment of blank tape and then the voice again.
"Could you please tell me your name, age and why you are here?"
"My name is Alexander Luthor and I'm almost fourteen. I'm here because my father decided it was easier just to send me for my psychological examination than to try to manufacture new excuses." The voice is remarkably mature for someone in his teens.
"Is that all?"
"All?"
"You are here because you violated penal code…"
"Allegedly."
"Allegedly violated…So, you deny it?"
"It? Do you even know what I was charged with?"
"You've cancelled on me three times already. I've read the file."
Lex's sigh registers on the tape.
"I'm not your enemy, Alexander. I only want to help you."
"People who use the word 'only' are short-sighted." The boy's voice cracks a little betraying his real age.
"As part of the agreement that was reached in your case you have to meet with me, the lucky court appointed psychologist. Let's make this easy on both of us. You were charged with a crime and found guilty. Tell me about it?"
"I'm still not sure you've read the file but…" Lex begins what sounds like a very well-rehearsed speech, "I was arrested for shooting seven arrows off the balcony of my father's penthouse apartment. No one was killed or injured. Four arrows lodged in trees in the park, one hit the side of a building on Fifth Street, one landed on the awning of a fruit stand and the last one struck the side of a horse drawn carriage near the park. Everyone who had their property damaged has been repaid."
"Why did you do it? Were you trying to hurt people?"
"What idiot would admit to wanting to hurt people? No. I just wanted to get rid of the arrows."
"Why?"
There is only silence in response. The doctor tries again.
"Where did you get the arrows?"
"My father gave them to me. When we still lived in the house. When my mother was alive."
"Do you miss her?"
"What kind of question is that? I expected more -- even from a psychologist who works for the city. I've talked about my mother's death to a variety of psychiatrists. I don't think you can offer any observations that they haven't. Can we stay on topic?"
The doctor exhales. "Fine. Why were you so intent on getting rid of the arrows?"
"I didn't want them anymore."
"Why?"
He does not answer and the doctor regroups.
"When not firing off of balconies are you a good shot?"
"Of course."
"Because your father wouldn't have it any other way?"
"Nice. First my relationship with my mother and then my father. I'm a good shot because I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Fair enough. But if you're so skilled why get rid of the arrows?"
"You got nowhere approaching the subject from that angle last time. What do you hope to gain this time?"
"Another ulcer, apparently."
There's a strained laugh from the boy.
"Tell me about how you got the arrows and presumably the bow."
"My father thought I was staying inside too much with my invalid mother. And he sent me outside to play with potentially lethal weapons."
"Which you mastered?"
"I'm bored."
"You're bored just like that?"
"No, I've actually been bored for awhile. Almost every question that I've been asked has had the words 'you' or 'your' in it."
"Well, this meeting is about you."
"I thought it was about the arrows?"
There's a momentary pause and the doctor tries again.
"What made the arrows so important?"
"A-B-A-R-I-S."
"Abaris?"
"My father gave me the arrows and a book on Greek mythology. A book for children. Remarkably similar to the one on the shelf above your desk."
There's the scuff of a chair and the shuffling sound of the doctor moving across the room. He returns and his chair creaks under his weight. Pages are thumbed through and then he reads.
"Abaris, a priest who fled to Greece to avoid a plague. Apollo gave him a golden arrow that had the ability to cure diseases and make the possessor of it invisible."
There is a fairly long pause and then the doctor starts, " So, you…" He cuts himself off and tries again. "The arrows didn't cure Mrs. Luthor's illness?"
"Very good, Doctor. You immediately jumped to the right conclusion and also managed not to use the phrase 'your mother'." There is a shifting sound and Lex resumes speaking. "My mother died with one of the arrows under her bed."
"It was only a myth, a story, Alexander. I understand how someone…"
"Please go back to using 'you', this is getting tedious." His voice is very uneven.
"You were powerless to save your mother, Alexander. I can understand how you hoped the arrow would cure your mother but it was only a myth. It couldn't work."
"But it did work, Doctor."
There is a long moment of blank tape.
"What do you mean? How did it work?"
"After my mother died I kept the arrow. I carried it with me. When I slept it was under my bed. And my father stopped talking to me."
There is the rustle of paper. "The arrow made you invisible."
"My father and I left the house and moved to the penthouse. We share 5000 square feet of space and rarely speak."
"I've seen your father's photograph in the newspapers. The tabloids. There are always women…"
"They're not women, Doctor. They're girls. A woman implies that the person is my father's equal. Like my mother. The models, actresses, would-be socialites that my father sees are just girls. Completely unimportant." Lex's voice cracks and he clears his throat.
"Of course there's no way for anyone to replace your mother, Alexander." Another long silence and the doctor tries again, "Do you ever have contact with these 'girls'? Does he bring them to your home?"
"There's a steady stream of them. None of them matter." His voice warbles again.
The doctor presses, "Do you talk to any of them?"
There's a prolonged silence. Lex clears his throat.
"Only one, really. She seemed nice."
"Tell me about her."
"We passed in the hallway one morning. She was pretty. I usually don't think brunettes are pretty. She made me breakfast and we talked."
"It must have been nice to not be invisible."
Lex sighs audibly. "A little obvious."
"Well, it must have been nice to have someone to talk with who wasn't on your father's payroll."
Lex laughs. "Not officially you mean." There is a pause. "She kissed me."
"I'm assuming that it wasn't like a mother's kiss?"
Lex laughs again. "No. Hardly." He grows silent. "We…" He trails off.
"You had intercourse with her?"
"Yes."
There is a long pause and then the sound of movement.
"But I wanted to. It wasn't like she did anything to me. I wanted to."
"Did you tell your father?"
"Yes."
"What was his reaction?"
"He didn't have one. He continued to see her for the time he usually allots and then moved on. She was three girls ago."
"Did that make you angry?"
"My father's lack of reaction? No. His moving on to a new conquest? Also no."
"Alexander…"
"I'd like to go to the bathroom. May I?"
The tape goes silent and then resumes with a click.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"My trip to the men's room?"
"No, your sexual encounter."
"I could say no and we'd continue to talk and you'd keep circling back to it. Let's get it over with. What do you want to know?"
"Were you frightened?"
"She didn't rape me, Doctor. I was a willing participant. It was a little different than what I expected but it was fine."
"Different, how?"
There is a pause and Lex takes two small breaths before answering. "Going into it I thought it would be more like something in a book. Kind of weightless. Detached. Drier."
"And it was after you had sex that you shot the arrows off the balcony?"
"No, it was after I told my father."
The sound of an intercom buzzes and the doctor responds angrily, "Yes."
"Mr. Luthor's father has arrived for his son." A woman's voice responds.
There is a creak of a chair and Lex's voice is a little fainter. "It was nice to talk with you, Doctor. You seem perfectly civil in your civil servant kind of way."
"Alexander?"
"I have to go. My father, not a lackey, is here."
"But, the arrows…"
"I just wanted to get rid of Abaris' arrow."
There is the sound of a door being opened.
"It was nice to meet you Doctor. I won't be back." There is a silence and then Lex offers, "But if you continue your perusal of the tabloids you might see me there."
The door closes with a soft thud and the tape goes to static.
A hand reaches forward and turns the tape player off.
Captured in a halo of light by a small desk lamp, Chloe Sullivan exhales. She scans the dark corners of her bedroom just to make sure she is still alone.
She refocuses on the collection of documents and about fifty additional tapes on her desk. A press badge for the Metropolis Inquisitor featuring Roger Nixon's grinning photo rests near her elbow.
Chloe had spent three long months investigating the very dead Nixon. A chance email had led her to one of Nixon's ex-wives and now…
Chloe moves out of the light and leans against the wall. She had read all of the court papers that Nixon had accumulated including Lex's juvenile record and a few skin-crawly things about Lionel Luthor.
And she had listened to one tape.
Chloe forces herself to move back to the desk. Public records – even those of a sealed juvenile record variety – are very different things than these tapes. She rifles through them. Each tape bears a label with a single name and a date.
"Probably, the doctor." Chloe says it aloud just to break the silence.
So many tapes. She rubs her temples. Nixon had probably listened to everything and taken copious notes. Nixon? Chloe had found out enough about the man to appreciate why people hate journalists. Nixon wasn't interested in finding out the truth; he was only interested in gaining the advantage.
Having a logical mind, Chloe knows she is rationalizing. Nixon is evil because of his motives but she is completely innocent in this whole thing because she only wanted to find the truth.
Yippee, the truth.
"Great epitaph," Chloe murmurs.
She fans herself feeling her face flush. Listening to that tape was completely unethical. Now, all she wants is to do the right thing.
But what is it? Take the tapes to the backyard BBQ and ignite them? And leave Lex wondering what had happened to the tapes. Return them to Lex with a mumbled apology about having only listened to one tape? Oh, yes, let's return the tapes to the guy who put a bullet through the person who last had possession of them.
Ultimately, Chloe realizes that if Lex ever looks for the tapes he will find his way to her. And her LexCorp employed father.
Pacing back and forth, Chloe tries to come to some kind of decision. She stops and closes her eyes. She needs help. And the only person she can think of is Clark. He might be a lousy date but Clark has an infallible moral compass. You need the right thing done, ask Clark. And he knows Lex. Maybe he'll have some insight.
She checks her watch. It's almost 9:30. She reaches for the phone.
"Hello, Clark. No, I'm not really okay. I have these tapes that belonged to Roger Nixon…and I don't know what to do."
by linda-seton
In answer to the Smallville Fanfiction Greek Mythology Challenge
A thin hand places a miniature tape recorder on the surface of a desk and hits play.
A man's voice, bored and tired, begins, "March, 8th 1993. This is the fourth scheduled appointment I have had with Alexander Luthor. His father, Lionel Luthor, has cancelled and rescheduled for a variety of reasons. Luthor Sr. is just trying to establish who is really in charge of his son's court mandated appointment with me."
There is a moment of blank tape and then the voice again.
"Could you please tell me your name, age and why you are here?"
"My name is Alexander Luthor and I'm almost fourteen. I'm here because my father decided it was easier just to send me for my psychological examination than to try to manufacture new excuses." The voice is remarkably mature for someone in his teens.
"Is that all?"
"All?"
"You are here because you violated penal code…"
"Allegedly."
"Allegedly violated…So, you deny it?"
"It? Do you even know what I was charged with?"
"You've cancelled on me three times already. I've read the file."
Lex's sigh registers on the tape.
"I'm not your enemy, Alexander. I only want to help you."
"People who use the word 'only' are short-sighted." The boy's voice cracks a little betraying his real age.
"As part of the agreement that was reached in your case you have to meet with me, the lucky court appointed psychologist. Let's make this easy on both of us. You were charged with a crime and found guilty. Tell me about it?"
"I'm still not sure you've read the file but…" Lex begins what sounds like a very well-rehearsed speech, "I was arrested for shooting seven arrows off the balcony of my father's penthouse apartment. No one was killed or injured. Four arrows lodged in trees in the park, one hit the side of a building on Fifth Street, one landed on the awning of a fruit stand and the last one struck the side of a horse drawn carriage near the park. Everyone who had their property damaged has been repaid."
"Why did you do it? Were you trying to hurt people?"
"What idiot would admit to wanting to hurt people? No. I just wanted to get rid of the arrows."
"Why?"
There is only silence in response. The doctor tries again.
"Where did you get the arrows?"
"My father gave them to me. When we still lived in the house. When my mother was alive."
"Do you miss her?"
"What kind of question is that? I expected more -- even from a psychologist who works for the city. I've talked about my mother's death to a variety of psychiatrists. I don't think you can offer any observations that they haven't. Can we stay on topic?"
The doctor exhales. "Fine. Why were you so intent on getting rid of the arrows?"
"I didn't want them anymore."
"Why?"
He does not answer and the doctor regroups.
"When not firing off of balconies are you a good shot?"
"Of course."
"Because your father wouldn't have it any other way?"
"Nice. First my relationship with my mother and then my father. I'm a good shot because I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Fair enough. But if you're so skilled why get rid of the arrows?"
"You got nowhere approaching the subject from that angle last time. What do you hope to gain this time?"
"Another ulcer, apparently."
There's a strained laugh from the boy.
"Tell me about how you got the arrows and presumably the bow."
"My father thought I was staying inside too much with my invalid mother. And he sent me outside to play with potentially lethal weapons."
"Which you mastered?"
"I'm bored."
"You're bored just like that?"
"No, I've actually been bored for awhile. Almost every question that I've been asked has had the words 'you' or 'your' in it."
"Well, this meeting is about you."
"I thought it was about the arrows?"
There's a momentary pause and the doctor tries again.
"What made the arrows so important?"
"A-B-A-R-I-S."
"Abaris?"
"My father gave me the arrows and a book on Greek mythology. A book for children. Remarkably similar to the one on the shelf above your desk."
There's the scuff of a chair and the shuffling sound of the doctor moving across the room. He returns and his chair creaks under his weight. Pages are thumbed through and then he reads.
"Abaris, a priest who fled to Greece to avoid a plague. Apollo gave him a golden arrow that had the ability to cure diseases and make the possessor of it invisible."
There is a fairly long pause and then the doctor starts, " So, you…" He cuts himself off and tries again. "The arrows didn't cure Mrs. Luthor's illness?"
"Very good, Doctor. You immediately jumped to the right conclusion and also managed not to use the phrase 'your mother'." There is a shifting sound and Lex resumes speaking. "My mother died with one of the arrows under her bed."
"It was only a myth, a story, Alexander. I understand how someone…"
"Please go back to using 'you', this is getting tedious." His voice is very uneven.
"You were powerless to save your mother, Alexander. I can understand how you hoped the arrow would cure your mother but it was only a myth. It couldn't work."
"But it did work, Doctor."
There is a long moment of blank tape.
"What do you mean? How did it work?"
"After my mother died I kept the arrow. I carried it with me. When I slept it was under my bed. And my father stopped talking to me."
There is the rustle of paper. "The arrow made you invisible."
"My father and I left the house and moved to the penthouse. We share 5000 square feet of space and rarely speak."
"I've seen your father's photograph in the newspapers. The tabloids. There are always women…"
"They're not women, Doctor. They're girls. A woman implies that the person is my father's equal. Like my mother. The models, actresses, would-be socialites that my father sees are just girls. Completely unimportant." Lex's voice cracks and he clears his throat.
"Of course there's no way for anyone to replace your mother, Alexander." Another long silence and the doctor tries again, "Do you ever have contact with these 'girls'? Does he bring them to your home?"
"There's a steady stream of them. None of them matter." His voice warbles again.
The doctor presses, "Do you talk to any of them?"
There's a prolonged silence. Lex clears his throat.
"Only one, really. She seemed nice."
"Tell me about her."
"We passed in the hallway one morning. She was pretty. I usually don't think brunettes are pretty. She made me breakfast and we talked."
"It must have been nice to not be invisible."
Lex sighs audibly. "A little obvious."
"Well, it must have been nice to have someone to talk with who wasn't on your father's payroll."
Lex laughs. "Not officially you mean." There is a pause. "She kissed me."
"I'm assuming that it wasn't like a mother's kiss?"
Lex laughs again. "No. Hardly." He grows silent. "We…" He trails off.
"You had intercourse with her?"
"Yes."
There is a long pause and then the sound of movement.
"But I wanted to. It wasn't like she did anything to me. I wanted to."
"Did you tell your father?"
"Yes."
"What was his reaction?"
"He didn't have one. He continued to see her for the time he usually allots and then moved on. She was three girls ago."
"Did that make you angry?"
"My father's lack of reaction? No. His moving on to a new conquest? Also no."
"Alexander…"
"I'd like to go to the bathroom. May I?"
The tape goes silent and then resumes with a click.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"My trip to the men's room?"
"No, your sexual encounter."
"I could say no and we'd continue to talk and you'd keep circling back to it. Let's get it over with. What do you want to know?"
"Were you frightened?"
"She didn't rape me, Doctor. I was a willing participant. It was a little different than what I expected but it was fine."
"Different, how?"
There is a pause and Lex takes two small breaths before answering. "Going into it I thought it would be more like something in a book. Kind of weightless. Detached. Drier."
"And it was after you had sex that you shot the arrows off the balcony?"
"No, it was after I told my father."
The sound of an intercom buzzes and the doctor responds angrily, "Yes."
"Mr. Luthor's father has arrived for his son." A woman's voice responds.
There is a creak of a chair and Lex's voice is a little fainter. "It was nice to talk with you, Doctor. You seem perfectly civil in your civil servant kind of way."
"Alexander?"
"I have to go. My father, not a lackey, is here."
"But, the arrows…"
"I just wanted to get rid of Abaris' arrow."
There is the sound of a door being opened.
"It was nice to meet you Doctor. I won't be back." There is a silence and then Lex offers, "But if you continue your perusal of the tabloids you might see me there."
The door closes with a soft thud and the tape goes to static.
A hand reaches forward and turns the tape player off.
Captured in a halo of light by a small desk lamp, Chloe Sullivan exhales. She scans the dark corners of her bedroom just to make sure she is still alone.
She refocuses on the collection of documents and about fifty additional tapes on her desk. A press badge for the Metropolis Inquisitor featuring Roger Nixon's grinning photo rests near her elbow.
Chloe had spent three long months investigating the very dead Nixon. A chance email had led her to one of Nixon's ex-wives and now…
Chloe moves out of the light and leans against the wall. She had read all of the court papers that Nixon had accumulated including Lex's juvenile record and a few skin-crawly things about Lionel Luthor.
And she had listened to one tape.
Chloe forces herself to move back to the desk. Public records – even those of a sealed juvenile record variety – are very different things than these tapes. She rifles through them. Each tape bears a label with a single name and a date.
"Probably, the doctor." Chloe says it aloud just to break the silence.
So many tapes. She rubs her temples. Nixon had probably listened to everything and taken copious notes. Nixon? Chloe had found out enough about the man to appreciate why people hate journalists. Nixon wasn't interested in finding out the truth; he was only interested in gaining the advantage.
Having a logical mind, Chloe knows she is rationalizing. Nixon is evil because of his motives but she is completely innocent in this whole thing because she only wanted to find the truth.
Yippee, the truth.
"Great epitaph," Chloe murmurs.
She fans herself feeling her face flush. Listening to that tape was completely unethical. Now, all she wants is to do the right thing.
But what is it? Take the tapes to the backyard BBQ and ignite them? And leave Lex wondering what had happened to the tapes. Return them to Lex with a mumbled apology about having only listened to one tape? Oh, yes, let's return the tapes to the guy who put a bullet through the person who last had possession of them.
Ultimately, Chloe realizes that if Lex ever looks for the tapes he will find his way to her. And her LexCorp employed father.
Pacing back and forth, Chloe tries to come to some kind of decision. She stops and closes her eyes. She needs help. And the only person she can think of is Clark. He might be a lousy date but Clark has an infallible moral compass. You need the right thing done, ask Clark. And he knows Lex. Maybe he'll have some insight.
She checks her watch. It's almost 9:30. She reaches for the phone.
"Hello, Clark. No, I'm not really okay. I have these tapes that belonged to Roger Nixon…and I don't know what to do."