Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of the characters from
Smallville… which means Lex ain't actually mine, and neither are the folks
he's thinking about…
Author's Note: I wrote just after seeing 'Jitters', the episode with Earl and Level 3…
Lex sat at his desk, aimlessly turning the finely crafted dagger in his hands and watching the light play across the jewels on the handle. He sighed, and dropped the dagger onto the papers lying in front of him, avoiding looking at the phone which he received the call from his father just a few moments ago. /Dammit! Why couldn't he just be proud of me!/ He thought, the mental words angry with rejection. /Nothing I do is EVER good enough for him. Just once... is it because he sees me as a... a freak? Any sign of... I don't know, pride? Of affection even... But it's only ever for the camera. It's not real! And, I want something more.../
He picked up the papers. It had come down to this again - he was expected to just get rid of some of his employees to please his father. How could he do that? Just pick a person and say 'right, you're gone'? It wasn't good for morale to have the threat of being laid off hanging over them like that, regardless of what his father thought. And yet... /Maybe, just maybe, he'd APPROVE. Maybe he would even.../
He thought back to the reunion of Clark with his parents after the incident with Earl and level 3. It had touched something in him, made him even more aware of that something that was missing in his life. /They aren't even his real parents/ he thought bitterly. /My REAL father couldn't care less what happened to me as long as it didn't damage his image too much, but Clark... they CARE, they REALLY care for him, and they aren't even his real parents./
It touched a chord in his heart and the plucking still resonated painfully within him. /It isn't fair!/ He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. Luthors didn't cry, especially not where lesser beings could potentially see them. Crying revealed a weakness, and weakness was to be avoided at all costs. It was a painful lesson, but it was one his father very much believed in.
So /If I did what he wants, he'd be happy, right? And if he's happy, maybe.../ It was a hope so tenuous he couldn't even bear to think about it for fear it would vanish like a wisp of morning mist in the sunshine, that maybe, just once even his father would express an approval, an affection even, that had nothing to do with being in the public eye... Despite his age, Lex still longed for that something missing with all his heart, that something that he'd never had, and likely never would have, the simple approval and affection of the man who had been the single most important person in his life since childhood - his father.
But for all that he longed for a true expression of even the slightest hint of approval from his father, something didn't sit right with him.
/Just because my father wants it, doesn't make it right. But... still... maybe...?/ Lex felt torn. He didn't know what to do. This was supposed to be his operation, and he had felt he was running it well, and yet... /It isn't enough. It's never enough... EVER. Maybe I'm not doing as well as I thought? But, everything seemed fine... I had a profit, a good profit... but he'd interfering, telling me what to do. Maybe I was wrong? What should I do? It's supposed to be my responsibility, but I don't know.../
He picked up the dagger again, absently noting it's sharpness. Resting the point lightly on one finger, he flashed the reflected beam of light from the window along the ceiling, feeling the need to move, to do something, to just not stay still.
/It's what he wants... but... is it what I want? I want him to be proud of me, to show some sign that I'm more than just a... a thing to be hauled out every now and then so he looks good. But... I don't know! I... it just feels wrong. I felt like I was finally getting somewhere. What would Clark do?/
That thought surprised Lex. He tried it out again, speaking a lot, albeit softly. "What would Clark do?"
He wondered why it mattered. Clark wasn't anyone important. He never would've met the Kent boy if he hadn't saved his life. /So why does he matter to me? Because he's my friend?/
That was another new thought for Lex. Luthors didn't have friends, friends were weaknesses.
/No, it's more than that/ Lex realised. /It's like... he's the first person to really see me for myself, as Lex rather than as a Luthor, as my father's son and responsible for his actions. Everywhere I go, it's the same - the disgust, the hate, the contempt, or worse, the greasiness, the want from everyone. They all assume I'm my father, they all think the worst of me. But Clark was different. He likes me, and not for who or what I am. It's... new. I never really had a friend before Clark, and now I do. And when I see him with his parents..../ Lex took a deep breath. /I envy him. He's got what I never had, but he's so willing to share. He's so kind and generous, so eager to help... but so naive, so trusting, so thoughtful. In my world, he'd get eaten alive within seconds. Perhaps it's just as well he doesn't belong in my world... but... how can I stand to be without him?/
Another revelation. Deep thoughts spark surprising insights.
/He's more than just a friend, a lot more. He's family, the closest thing to a real family that I've had for a long time. He's... my little brother, the little brother I never had, my chance to look out for someone and feel wanted, feel needed, for being me, for being Lex. And... I don't want to lose that... that normalcy./
He ran a hand over his bald head.
/I always thought this was why I was different, but maybe it's always been more... but, why doesn't he want me? What's so wrong with me? Why? Why am I never good enough? Nothing I do.../
The dagger was once again placed on the desk, his elbows solidly planted to either side of it as he dropped his head into his hands, never noticing the inadvertent placing so that the blade faced in towards his heart.
/Clark wouldn't think so. Clark likes me. He's not just out to get stuff from me. He's not!! He doesn't like taking stuff from me, he was reluctant to. Or was that just because of his father? I know he doesn't like me... No! It can't just be because of that! He came back for me! I though he was dead and he came back for me. He saved my life!! That's has to mean something. It's more than my father ever did for me.../
And that, was what it came down to in the end. As much as he craved to be wanted by his father, he craved a friend, someone to understand and accept him, even more. Lex was lonely, and that loneliness was slowly killing him inside. All the hugs his father could give him meant nothing compared to that, would never mean anything as long as he knew they were false and could look at Clark and see what real love was, and what he was missing out on.
Lex picked up the papers from his desk in one hand and folded them in half. With the other, he picked up the dagger, watching with satisfaction as the sharp blade cut easily through the documents. There would be another way... there was last time, and there would be this time.
/And I won't lose Clark, and maybe... maybe his father will accept me some day.../ He though longing of the warmth from that small family, aching with the half-formed hope of one day being accepted completely into that warmth, like a frozen urchin standing in a snowy street and peering though a window to gaze with desperate longing at the untouchable fire roaring within. /Smallville... I though it was the end of the world, but... they don't hate me any more. They might not like me, or trust me, but I'm winning them over. They're starting to see me as Lex and not my father's son... and if it weren't for Clark, that never would've happened. And if it weren't for Clark, I'd be dead several times over.../
He dropped the shreds of what had once been perfectly good paper in the bin next to his desk and stared at them for a moment.
/All because of Clark.../
Author's Note: I wrote just after seeing 'Jitters', the episode with Earl and Level 3…
Lex sat at his desk, aimlessly turning the finely crafted dagger in his hands and watching the light play across the jewels on the handle. He sighed, and dropped the dagger onto the papers lying in front of him, avoiding looking at the phone which he received the call from his father just a few moments ago. /Dammit! Why couldn't he just be proud of me!/ He thought, the mental words angry with rejection. /Nothing I do is EVER good enough for him. Just once... is it because he sees me as a... a freak? Any sign of... I don't know, pride? Of affection even... But it's only ever for the camera. It's not real! And, I want something more.../
He picked up the papers. It had come down to this again - he was expected to just get rid of some of his employees to please his father. How could he do that? Just pick a person and say 'right, you're gone'? It wasn't good for morale to have the threat of being laid off hanging over them like that, regardless of what his father thought. And yet... /Maybe, just maybe, he'd APPROVE. Maybe he would even.../
He thought back to the reunion of Clark with his parents after the incident with Earl and level 3. It had touched something in him, made him even more aware of that something that was missing in his life. /They aren't even his real parents/ he thought bitterly. /My REAL father couldn't care less what happened to me as long as it didn't damage his image too much, but Clark... they CARE, they REALLY care for him, and they aren't even his real parents./
It touched a chord in his heart and the plucking still resonated painfully within him. /It isn't fair!/ He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. Luthors didn't cry, especially not where lesser beings could potentially see them. Crying revealed a weakness, and weakness was to be avoided at all costs. It was a painful lesson, but it was one his father very much believed in.
So /If I did what he wants, he'd be happy, right? And if he's happy, maybe.../ It was a hope so tenuous he couldn't even bear to think about it for fear it would vanish like a wisp of morning mist in the sunshine, that maybe, just once even his father would express an approval, an affection even, that had nothing to do with being in the public eye... Despite his age, Lex still longed for that something missing with all his heart, that something that he'd never had, and likely never would have, the simple approval and affection of the man who had been the single most important person in his life since childhood - his father.
But for all that he longed for a true expression of even the slightest hint of approval from his father, something didn't sit right with him.
/Just because my father wants it, doesn't make it right. But... still... maybe...?/ Lex felt torn. He didn't know what to do. This was supposed to be his operation, and he had felt he was running it well, and yet... /It isn't enough. It's never enough... EVER. Maybe I'm not doing as well as I thought? But, everything seemed fine... I had a profit, a good profit... but he'd interfering, telling me what to do. Maybe I was wrong? What should I do? It's supposed to be my responsibility, but I don't know.../
He picked up the dagger again, absently noting it's sharpness. Resting the point lightly on one finger, he flashed the reflected beam of light from the window along the ceiling, feeling the need to move, to do something, to just not stay still.
/It's what he wants... but... is it what I want? I want him to be proud of me, to show some sign that I'm more than just a... a thing to be hauled out every now and then so he looks good. But... I don't know! I... it just feels wrong. I felt like I was finally getting somewhere. What would Clark do?/
That thought surprised Lex. He tried it out again, speaking a lot, albeit softly. "What would Clark do?"
He wondered why it mattered. Clark wasn't anyone important. He never would've met the Kent boy if he hadn't saved his life. /So why does he matter to me? Because he's my friend?/
That was another new thought for Lex. Luthors didn't have friends, friends were weaknesses.
/No, it's more than that/ Lex realised. /It's like... he's the first person to really see me for myself, as Lex rather than as a Luthor, as my father's son and responsible for his actions. Everywhere I go, it's the same - the disgust, the hate, the contempt, or worse, the greasiness, the want from everyone. They all assume I'm my father, they all think the worst of me. But Clark was different. He likes me, and not for who or what I am. It's... new. I never really had a friend before Clark, and now I do. And when I see him with his parents..../ Lex took a deep breath. /I envy him. He's got what I never had, but he's so willing to share. He's so kind and generous, so eager to help... but so naive, so trusting, so thoughtful. In my world, he'd get eaten alive within seconds. Perhaps it's just as well he doesn't belong in my world... but... how can I stand to be without him?/
Another revelation. Deep thoughts spark surprising insights.
/He's more than just a friend, a lot more. He's family, the closest thing to a real family that I've had for a long time. He's... my little brother, the little brother I never had, my chance to look out for someone and feel wanted, feel needed, for being me, for being Lex. And... I don't want to lose that... that normalcy./
He ran a hand over his bald head.
/I always thought this was why I was different, but maybe it's always been more... but, why doesn't he want me? What's so wrong with me? Why? Why am I never good enough? Nothing I do.../
The dagger was once again placed on the desk, his elbows solidly planted to either side of it as he dropped his head into his hands, never noticing the inadvertent placing so that the blade faced in towards his heart.
/Clark wouldn't think so. Clark likes me. He's not just out to get stuff from me. He's not!! He doesn't like taking stuff from me, he was reluctant to. Or was that just because of his father? I know he doesn't like me... No! It can't just be because of that! He came back for me! I though he was dead and he came back for me. He saved my life!! That's has to mean something. It's more than my father ever did for me.../
And that, was what it came down to in the end. As much as he craved to be wanted by his father, he craved a friend, someone to understand and accept him, even more. Lex was lonely, and that loneliness was slowly killing him inside. All the hugs his father could give him meant nothing compared to that, would never mean anything as long as he knew they were false and could look at Clark and see what real love was, and what he was missing out on.
Lex picked up the papers from his desk in one hand and folded them in half. With the other, he picked up the dagger, watching with satisfaction as the sharp blade cut easily through the documents. There would be another way... there was last time, and there would be this time.
/And I won't lose Clark, and maybe... maybe his father will accept me some day.../ He though longing of the warmth from that small family, aching with the half-formed hope of one day being accepted completely into that warmth, like a frozen urchin standing in a snowy street and peering though a window to gaze with desperate longing at the untouchable fire roaring within. /Smallville... I though it was the end of the world, but... they don't hate me any more. They might not like me, or trust me, but I'm winning them over. They're starting to see me as Lex and not my father's son... and if it weren't for Clark, that never would've happened. And if it weren't for Clark, I'd be dead several times over.../
He dropped the shreds of what had once been perfectly good paper in the bin next to his desk and stared at them for a moment.
/All because of Clark.../