Can't Find My Way Home

by Rednih

Lionel Luthor must raise three children alone after his wife's death: Alexander, Julian and. . . it. Warnings Include: Prior Non-Con, and SLASH.

1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Where was he?! He knew he should have made Lex stay close. The world had narrowed down into hellfire and the disorientating smell of burnt popcorn, and Lex was somewhere in the abyss. Bowed and broken and smoldering corn stalks as far as the eye could see, but no bright beacon of red hair.

For what seemed like hours, Lionel was unable to hear anything but the residual roaring of the sky burning down. Gradually the thunder and lightning of meteors was replaced by the frantic beating of his own heart, but. . . no Lex.

Have to find him. Have to. Where is he? Son? Lex! Oh, God! Which way did he go? North. Farther from the road. The fence! Where is he? What the-- ?! Oh, dear Lord, Lex! Le-- !

***

The truth was, Lionel had never believed in a deity on high who shook its finger at him for all his supposed crimes and so-called "sins." Needing something like that, craving that omniscient, omnipotent, benevolent presence, stank of weakness to him, like a grown man cuddling a baby blanket and sucking on his own thumb. He knew there was no such thing, and he acknowledged that, accepted it, and moved far, far past it.

Lionel set his own rules, his own code of "right" and "wrong."

But what he found in that decimated cornfield could not be coincidence. Lionel somehow couldn't quite bring himself to believe in coincidence, either.

Lillian was. . . hopeful. That was about as accurate as one could get in describing Lillian's decidedly irrational rationale. "God's will," she said. "My Alexander will be so brave and strong. You'll see, Lionel. He'll rise and conquer and change the world. He will, my courageous boy." Well, he had always known she only saw what she wanted to see. He'd known that within five minutes of making her acquaintance, and it was as true today as it had been 12 years ago, perhaps even more so.

He, on the other hand, could not afford to shut himself away. He could not stay constantly within reach of Lex. No, Lionel had to arrange matters. He had to see to things. And in all honesty, he did not want to stay with his wife and son. It was a sickroom, and seeing both a sick son and a sick wife in it was too much. He was needed elsewhere.

Not at Luthorcorp. No, his leave of absence was in his best interests. His son was gravely ill, and lovely Lillian was always so. . . delicate. It was understandable that he take time off. He was needed to see to things: nurses and doctors for Lex, new accommodations with his son's condition in mind, constant appointments and consultations and tests to which someone had to accompany the boy and grieving Lillian. Lionel was the stalwart husband, the loving, doting, deeply concerned father.

He was the witness to something unnamable, something so incredible he had shared it with only his scientists and his decanter of scotch.

A miracle.

Lex had an appointment at two o'clock this afternoon, and Lionel still had many things he needed to do. There was call for a new nanny, one with a nursing background perhaps, or an assistant of some sort for Lillian. She was getting so that these days she wouldn't even eat or sleep, only lie there next to Lex holding his hand. She rarely let the boy out of her sight, and he just did not have the time to be juggling all of this, as well as wrangling her. So he would hire someone who would, whose job it would be to care.

Lionel had to make another visit today. It was past due, and frankly he was itching to see if anything new had been discovered.

Yes, he had many things he had to see to: Lex, Lillian, and. . . it.

***

Twelve Years Later

Lex walked through the double doors and into the foyer. God, it seemed like the place became even more tasteless and overdone each time he left. That painting on the south wall was new, as were the decorative pillar candles -- three, four, and six foot candles embossed with gold leaf and pressed ivy. Ick. He should talk to Dad about this new decorator. The person had obviously mistaken the Luthor residence for a suburban housewife's domain.

He handed off his overcoat to the maid standing nearby, and started down the left hallway towards his father's study, the understood meeting place. Grabbing the handle of the oak door, Lex was startled to find it locked. Why would the old bastard lock him out of their own meeting? If a ploy, the move had no real purpose besides putting Lex off balance. So, he made himself calm down and appear to stand patiently across the way, hands in pockets, the picture of detached nonchalance. Inwardly seething, Lex wondered if Lionel were even in there.

Perhaps his father had merely stood him up. . . again. It happened often enough not to be a completely farfetched idea. Although why he wouldn't notify Lex was a mystery. Usually those cancellations were due to someone or something more important expressing an interest in his father. Lionel would call, chock-full of false guilt and pleading for Lex's understanding that so-and-so just happened to be in town this weekend only.

"Lex, my boy," he'd say, "I apologize, but you know business must come first. I'll see you at break. Make me proud, son."

But he never cancelled without the bragging phone call. Lionel never sent word with any one of his many lackeys. The only time anyone had ever given him a message regarding his father's absence had been that time with Colin. And then it had been Lian doing the excusing, although unintentional. That was when Dad had taken Colin somewhere in a hurry, leaving Lian himself at home with Lionel's personal assistant as babysitter. That'd been, what, three years ago? God, he hadn't seen much of either of the boys since he'd left for university. Well, with regards to Colin, that turned out not to be much of a disappointment. He missed Lian, though, and more than he'd thought he would when he'd left, hell-bent on escaping his father's clutches. Ha! He'd quickly come to understand that Lionel Luthor would attempt to control him no matter where he was.

Stanford, Princeton, and of course Metropolis U all had board members and a significant percentage of the faculty reporting to his father. Harvard, however, did not. That was why Lex was soon to be graduating there. He'd briefly considered Oxford, but he would've seen even less of Lian if he'd gone overseas. Lex was afraid that if he went to Europe for college he would never come back to the States. And Lian needed someone on his side. God knew Lionel had his devoted protege in Colin. Lex didn't want Lian left behind with no allies.

The study door suddenly opened and Lex was drawn out of his thoughts. In the doorway was Colin, standing back and apparently waiting for Lex to enter. Lex gave him a smirk and winked at him before passing by. As usual, Colin gave no outward indication of his feelings. Lex envied him that. Colin had the perfect poker face, never giving away anything he didn't want to about what was happening behind those dead green eyes.

"Lex! Son, good to see you." Lionel stuck his hand out for Lex to shake, and he obliged by gripping it, hard. Lionel just smirked, his long mane looking even wilder than Lex had remembered.

"What's with the hold up?" Lex asked. "You two plotting another Luthorcorp conquest without me?" Knowing it'd put Colin off-kilter, Lex deliberately looked at him while saying this. He also gave the question a heavily sarcastic tone just to needle his father.

"Why, son, of course not! You know I don't discuss business with you boys. Lin would far rather be off on his own, as well. Wouldn't you, boy?" he asked, the last directed at Colin. Lionel's delivery was impeccable. The old bastard could convince the Pope that Mary Magdalene was a housewife, Lex reflected wryly. It was his cold stare in Colin's direction that gave him away, though. It was the look one liar gave another, when forcing the second to play along. 'You'd better do it,' that look said, 'or else.'

Colin merely stared back for a beat, then turned to look at Lex and said with a smirk, "You know how I hate even going to the annual Christmas party. Why would I want to be here any more than you or Lian?"

Lex turned around at that, and sure enough there was Lian standing in the doorway. Still dressed in his uniform, he looked around until his eyes finally landed on Lex. Then, smiling, he carelessly dropped his schoolbag and walked over. Lex stood up and away from the chair just in time to receive Lian's embrace.

"Hey, Kid. How's it going?"

"How long are you staying?" Lian demanded, pulling away and dropping down in the chair next to Lex's.

"That depends," Lex responded, with a look towards their father as he resumed his own seat. "Well, we're all here now it seems, Dad. What's so important that it requires a 'family meeting?'" Lex said the last with finger quotes for Lian's benefit, and was rewarded with a chuckle from the almost-nine-year-old. God knew the kid should be doing nice things, not sitting here with two sharks and a piranha. The least Lex could do was make it a little less cutthroat and tedious for him.

"Boys, I'm here to share a secret with you. Now I know this may seem odd, but I feel it's time we come together as a family. And before we can do that, Lex, Lian, you two need to hear this. I'm taking Lin out of school. His private tutoring will resume here at the house and at the Centre. I have found an excellent man to take over his education, and it's best for everyone that he not be around those people at that academy any longer."

Lionel had prepared this speech. It had just the right pacing and wasn't repetitious, as spur-of-the-moment words tended to be. He'd also apparently already told Colin this because of the boy's reaction, or lack thereof, to the news. Colin just sat there staring at their father. He didn't glare or sulk and, conversely, he wasn't smirking or snarling, either. He just sat there, like a statue. Meanwhile, Lex was wondering a) What the hell was going on between Lionel and Colin, b) What had Colin done to either get expelled or taken out of Excelsior, and c) What did any of this have to do with him?

"Why aren't you going to school anymore, Lin?" Lian asked quietly. He looked concerned and worried, and Lex couldn't really understand why. Why did Lian even care what Colin was doing, or not doing? Lex certainly didn't, not beyond figuring out what Lionel was up to. And perhaps he was just a little curious to know what Colin had done that was so terrible, or, the thought occurred to him, what was done to Colin.

"Son, your brother has had some trouble acclimating to the academy, and I feel that. . . I think it best that-- that he come back home."

Lionel had hesitated. He'd stuttered, and his body language was now nervous and jerky. What the fuck was going on? What had happened? Lian turned back to look at him in shock, and Lex realized he'd asked the questions aloud.

"You remember how difficult it was for you at Excelsior, Lex," his father said with a glare, most likely for his base language. "Lin's classmates were. . . less than welcoming, and I don't want any more incidents."

"But what's wrong, Lin?" Julian asked again, so heartbreakingly sincere and concerned, it made Lex's stomach churn.

"That's nothing you need to worry about, Julian. Your brother is fine, and-- "

"Excuse me, but what was all this about 'sharing a secret' and 'coming together as a family?'" Lex asked angrily. "Is this the big 'secret?' That Colin's back with tutors and home-schooling? How is that either new or secret?"

"That's not it, son. I just wanted to-- " Lionel's condescending tone was overlapped with. . .

"Lin, what happened? What'd they do?" from Julian, so that Lin's voice was almost lost, it was so quiet.

"They tied me to a chimney, and left me outside during a lightning storm," Lin said without rancor.

"Jesus," Lex exhaled after a moment. "The Luthor name certainly didn't get you the star treatment, either. Welcome to the 'Loathed Club,' Colin. You'd better get used to it if you ever want to go off the property."

"Lex!"

"What?! It's true. This family is scorned among the elite, called ruthless barracudas in boardrooms, and reviled and vilified in the press!"

"All the more reason for us to stick together as a family-- "

"Who says we don't?" interrupted Julian.

Lex looked at his youngest brother and didn't know what to say. What would give Lian the impression that any of them were in it for anything but their own benefit? Lex certainly only cared that he and Lian got out alive, and he knew their father only cared about himself, regardless of the fact Colin was his favorite. And Colin? Who the hell knew what went on it that kid's head? Lex certainly didn't, nor did he particularly care to find out. Perhaps Lian felt something for them, though. He was still young. He'd grow out of it pretty quickly.

"Now that's what I like to hear," Lionel said cheerily. "I won't always be here for you boys, and when I'm gone I want to know that you'll all be taken care of, have a family in each other. You know your mother wanted you to be close."

Colin immediately stood up from his chair, toppling it on its back. He didn't say anything, just stood there with his hands in fists, glaring hatefully at Lionel. All of a sudden the air in the room was suffocating, and Lex felt wary of even breathing too deeply lest that push them all over the brink. Colin looked ready to rip off someone's head, and his entire body was quivering with suppressed rage, all apparently directed at their father.

Suddenly the tension broke and Colin turned around on his heel, jerked open the door, and summarily left. He didn't slam the door, which Lex was expecting. After all, the kid was 15, right smack dab in the middle of the storm of hormones and teenage angst. Considering testosterone overload seemed to have just occurred with that strange standoff between his father and Colin, Lex wouldn't have really blamed him if he'd slammed a door or two. Lex himself had done far worse when he was that age, and he hadn't just been yanked out of school all together, either.

Colin had always been home-schooled until just a few months ago, when he was enrolled in Excelsior Academy for Boys. It was the same school Lex had attended when he was young, but it seemed that the tradition would not continue, for which Lex was thankful. That meant dear Julian wouldn't have to suffer through that particular hellhole. At least one of them might turn out semi-normal.

"Well, Dad, care to let us in on the 'secret' of what that was about?" Lex asked innocently.

***

Lex held the door open for Lian, and then shut it after the boy'd passed into the hall. After Colin unceremoniously stormed out, Lionel had cut the 'family meeting' short. There was to be no revealing of secrets today, it seemed.

Lian turned around to face Lex and asked, "Do you have to go do something, now?" It was obvious from how quiet he was that he had assumed the answer would be 'yes.'

"Actually, no," Lex responded cheerfully, bending over to try and look into Lian's eyes. The kid's head lifted up surprisingly quick, and a wide toothy grin was Lex's reward for putting up with their father's games this afternoon. "What did you want to do?"

"Oh! We could. . . go for a walk, or swim?"

He knew which one Julian really wanted. Lex had learned early on that when asking for something, Lian always suggested one option initially and then tacked his real desire onto the end in a hurry. It was as though he were pretending either would work. In reality, it was a tell, one which Lex had no problem exploiting. And it never failed. He just always gave Lian the second option, and his brother would think him incredibly in tune with his wants and needs.

Lian's habit somehow led him to think of their mother, for she was never afraid to ask for things, or even just a helping hand. Lionel sure as hell never needed, nor wanted, for anything he couldn't provide himself, and Lex wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing him in need of their aid. As for Colin. . . well, the kid hardly spoke at all, so it really never came into Lex's consideration. If Colin needed or wanted something these days, no doubt Lionel took care of it lickity split.

"A swim sounds really good, right about now," Lex said with a smile, as he dropped an arm around Lian's shoulders. They made a right, and started the trek over to the other side of the mansion, to the indoor pool. "Your birthday's comin' up soon, yeah?" Lex asked this casually, as if he weren't completely aware of the date.

"Lex, it's only October. My birthday's not for another two months." He said this so seriously that Lex started chuckling.

"Oh, I know," Lex said affectionately. "You must be excited about it, though. I know I was for mine. In fact, I think I received more gifts that year than I have since -- combined." He smiled.

"Because of Mom?" Lian asked quietly.

Lex looked at him carefully. The boy had an expression on his face that Lex couldn't quite categorize -- equal parts sadness, wistfulness, and curiosity. Of course, it was little wonder about the last. The past wasn't spoken of in the Luthor household, and Lillian Luthor in particular was a taboo topic of conversation. Only Lionel was allowed by tacit agreement to talk about her, and that only happened when the old man wanted something, as witnessed in today's fiasco. Otherwise, it was as if she had never existed. Even the decor of the house had changed, so that nothing of her presence remained.

And poor Julian hadn't even known her, that incredible, vibrant, flighty woman his mother had been before the weight of illness brought her low. First there was Lex's. . . "sickness," then her own, concurrent with Lian's birth and the complications from that. In most of the memories he had of her, and probably most of Colin's too, his mother was damaged and weak. Only Lionel knew her when she was truly happy and full of life, and he never shared. Never.

"Actually," Lex said, bringing himself out of those unhappy thoughts, "I think it was most likely from all the publicity over the meteor strike, and my condition." He glossed his left hand over his scalp to make his point, and Lian followed the gesture with his eyes. Sure, the kid had heard the tale of how that had happened from someone, but never from Lex himself. One of the maids had told him, perhaps, or a classmate. Children were cruel, and a freakishly bald older brother and one whom no one ever saw were perfect fuel for that fire.

"Oh." Lian dropped his eyes down to the passing tile as they walked for a moment, then raised his head and bravely changed the subject. "I hope Dad doesn't make me have a party. I don't want the kids he'd make me invite over here."

"Yeah, I always hated those parties, too. Dad insists on inviting the rich, snobby kids just so their parents will show up, and he can talk business while we try not to be poked and prodded to death. Although by the same token, they're always quite big events, so it's easy to slip away after the gifts have been opened and the cake surrendered and devoured." Lex said the last dramatically, and with a flourish of his arm. Lian smiled and poked him in the ribs, then started running, as they had finally reached the atrium and pool.

There were changing rooms over on the left, with trunks and towels. They both changed, Lex taking off first and executing a massive cannonball just as Lian came within splashing range. When he emerged, he found his brother glaring at him, hair hanging in his face. Lex laughed for a long time, and Lian joined in after valiantly trying to be serious.

***

By the time they got out of the pool, it was six o'clock and time to get ready for dinner. Lian's room was just two doors down from Lex's, so they met up in the hallway and headed down the stairs at a quarter to seven.

Lionel was already stationed at the head of the table, looking towards the doorway as they entered. Lex sat at his father's left, and Lian dropped down to Lex's left, beside him. Colin was nowhere in sight, though customarily he sat across from them, at Lionel's right. It was strategic, and he knew his father deliberately put Lex to his left and not his right. Lionel was left-handed. His weak side in a fight would be his right, and that was where his comrade should guard him. Just as Lian was seated next to Lex, his seemingly acknowledged 'partner in crime,' so Colin was stationed at Lionel's right, defending his lord against all opponents. . . and mutineers.

Lex smiled at his father and asked, "Where's Colin?"

"Sulking in his room, no doubt," Lionel replied distractedly, as the cook and her assistant had just stepped into the room. The salad course was set down on each of their plates, and once the two servants had left the room, Lionel promptly stabbed a piece of lettuce and set about methodically and efficiently conquering his meal.

***

After dinner, Lex suggested a movie to Lian and they climbed back up the stairs to the entertainment room. Unfortunately, the room was already occupied and Lex opened the door to the sounds of 'Edward Scissorhands' clipping away at housewives' hair. Without hesitation, Lian bounded over to the leather sofa on which Colin was sprawled and sat next to him.

"Hey," Lian said to him, and set a hand on his shoulder. Colin, eyes still focused on the screen, gave him a nod and went on watching.

A notebook and pencil were on the floor to the right of Colin's feet, and as Lex walked closer he realized it was a sketch pad.

"You still draw, I see," Lex remarked to Colin, who just ignored him in favor of Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder acting out doomed romance and eventual alienation.

"After this, do you want to watch Monty Python with us?" Lian asked him. Colin turned his head to look Lian in the eyes, and just stared for a moment. The look was searching, assessing, and Lex wondered when Colin had started to make it a point to judge a person's sincerity. The thought made something in his stomach coil, and he realized he didn't really know that much about Colin anymore. He knew his brother as well as a stranger might. The thought did not sit well.

Instead of responding either way, though, Colin turned his head away and stopped the movie with the remote at his side. He then held the remote out in front of Julian, finally dropping it in the kid's lap when he made no move to take it. Then Colin gathered up his pad and pencil, ejected the movie, returned it to its case, and left the room. No words, not even a wave or dirty look. In fact, Colin hadn't even looked at Lex once in the entire time he'd been in the room, and his face had remained devoid of emotion throughout. Another habit of Colin's.

"Okay," Lex said awkwardly. "So, 'Holy Grail?'"

Lian just looked at the remote in his lap and sighed. Lex tried to remember if he'd ever sighed when he was eight-almost-nine, but couldn't. Probably, though. Luthors were all well advanced and very knowledgeable in the fine art of brooding. He'd probably sighed in his crib. It came with having Lionel for a father.

"Lian?" His brother looked up. "Movie? Monty Python? Ringing any bells, here?"

"Yeah, 'Holy Grail.' It's the funniest."

Lex went over to the cabinets, found it, and stuck it in the player. Sitting down to Lian's right, he finally asked, "What's wrong?" as the llama credits rolled by onscreen.

Lian, still looking at the remote, said, "He hardly ever talks anymore, even to me." He looked so sad and confused that Lex himself felt puzzled. When had Colin ever talked a lot? "He used to speak to me, at least. Now he just sits and draws in the atrium, whenever Dad isn't forcing him to follow him around."

"Force him? How does he 'force him' to do anything? Colin's always done what he wanted. If he doesn't like being Dad's shadow then he should tell him that, using words and sentences."

"You're so mean sometimes, Lex!" Julian burst out. "You don't even pay attention to him. You always call him 'Colin,' never by his nickname. Why? You call me Lian. You only ever call me Lian."

"I don't know," Lex answered carefully. He wasn't quite sure why his brother was so upset. As far as Lex could tell, Colin was just being contrary and sullen in not talking. "'Lian' just fits you better than Julian. And 'Colin' fits him."

"He spends too much time with Dad," Lian whispered, looking Lex right in the eye. Worried, that's what Lian was. No, not worried. . . scared. Lian was scared that Colin was spending 'too much time with Dad.'

"What's going on, Lian?" Lex asked carefully and slowly. "Is something wrong?"

"I wish you still lived here," Lian said, dropping his head back down and fidgeting with the damned remote again. "We were all happier when you were here. Even Dad was nicer, except when you got in trouble."

"Lian, look at me," Lex pulled his brother's chin up. "What's going on?" he repeated.

"You should talk to Lin. He's always so sad, and I don't know what to do. You'd know what to do, Lex. If you just talk to him, everything will be better. Please. Just talk to him, Lex. You'll see." Lian was practically begging him, complete with supplicating hand gestures and teary eyes. God, this family was screwed up, Lex thought, for what must have been the billionth time.

"Okay, I'll talk to him." Lian was still looking at him pleadingly, still making those gestures with his small hands. So Lex clasped them between his own, and looked directly into his youngest brother's eyes with conviction he didn't quite feel. "Lian. I'll talk to him. Tomorrow I'll hunt him down and talk to him, okay? Everything will work out, you'll see. Now, watch the movie." With one last lingering look, the same assessing gaze Colin had used on Lian earlier and Lionel before that, in the study, Julian turned back to the screen and smiled as the part with the Frenchman began.

Great. Just what Lex wanted to do tomorrow: talk with Lin. More like talk at Lin. The kid never looked at Lex, and hardly ever spoke to him. He hadn't in years, not since Lex had left for college. Truth be told, until this afternoon, Lex had almost forgotten what Colin's voice sounded like. And with the onset of puberty, it had changed. Deepened, lowered, and grown quiet. . . and bitter. And angry. . .

Well, suck it up, Luthor, he told himself. Enjoy tonight because bright and early you have to go beard the lion in his den.

***

Though Lex was used to waking up relatively early, time and classes waited for no man, he had decided last night that he would sleep in late this morning. So naturally, when he awoke while it was still dark outside, he was confused and groggy as to when 10 a.m. became the new three. Shaking his head to clear it, Lex realized he'd been startled awake by a sound. It was the sound of creaking floorboards, as of a person walking down the hall past his door. . . past Lian's. . .

Lex quickly and quietly got out of bed to take a look. Opening his door out into the hallway, he could see the moonlight coming through the windows on the left, and the door to the master bedroom quickly shutting. The sliver of yellow light from underneath the door confirmed his father was still up, and so Lex went back to bed, assuming his father had finally come up to his room after spending most of the night working in his study.

That night, Lex dreamed of voices and shouting, and grasping, clutching hard hands--

--but when he woke up again at nine thirty, he had no recollection of either the footsteps or the dream, and put the uneasy and jittery feeling down to his impending talk with Colin.

***

Colin wasn't in his room. He wasn't in the entertainment room, or the kitchen, either, two of his favorite haunts from childhood. Then Lex remembered Lian's words about Colin drawing in the atrium.

When he reached the closed glass doors, he stopped, recognizing the shouting coming from within as his father. Taking a look through the pane, he made out Lionel's figure on the right, waving his arms and looking particularly frustrated. Colin was the obvious object of this diatribe, as he was the only other person in the enclosure. Head down and shoulders hunched, the kid looked thoroughly chastised and altogether miserable. Lex himself had been on the receiving end of enough of their father's rants to empathize with the boy. Once Lionel started, though, it was best to just roll over and show one's belly. . . and hope he wouldn't tear out your throat. Verbally sparring against Lionel Luthor, and winning, was something no one could truthfully claim to have done, though God knew Lex tried. It was another example of him being unable to take his own advice. He could never back down from his father.

Lex was brought out of his thoughts when the door to his right suddenly opened and his father strode out.

"Lex," Lionel said as he quickly passed him. That was all, just his name. Well, what did he expect? A hug? Laughing to himself, Lex slowly walked into the atrium.

Looking around, he spotted Colin by the pool. He had his pant legs rolled up and his feet in the water. Sitting in the sunlight, head back and arms braced behind him on the blue tile, Colin reminded Lex of a big jungle cat relaxing before the hunt. To his left was the ubiquitous sketch pad, only today instead of a pencil, a set of oil pastels rested on top.

"Branching out in the art world, Colin? When'd you start with those?" Lex asked, pointing to the pastels. Expecting no acknowledgment, he was surprised when Colin rolled his head to the side in order to look at him. God, the kid had huge dark circles under his eyes. Didn't he sleep? "Lian's concerned about you," Lex said, figuring he might as well just jump right in there. Colin would know he didn't do this just to be nice.

Colin, who was still looking up at him from the floor, nodded and gracefully sat up straight. He swung his legs out of the pool and scooted back, unrolling the cuffs of his pants and slipping his shoes back on. Then he stood up, grabbing the art tools, and walked over to the table and chairs by the east side windows. The sun was streaming in overwhelmingly strong today, and when Colin sat down at the small metal table, he did so right in the middle of a sunbeam. Setting the book and pastels on the table, he turned back to look at Lex with an expectant expression on his face, indicating the chair across from him and raising an eyebrow.

"Since when did you start using all those manners Mom drilled into us?" Lex asked. Again, he was somehow taken aback when Colin not only shrugged, but did so with a smirk. It wasn't a smile, or a beaming grin like the ones Lex could remember getting when they were kids, but it was something. At least the kid wasn't glaring at him. . . or ignoring him again. "Lian says you spend too much time with Dad-- " Lex began, trailing off when he noticed how stiff and still Colin had just become.

"What?" Lex asked. "What's wrong, Colin? I'm sorry to hear he's making you stay home for school again. Even Excelsior is probably better than being stuck here, or with him all the time. Or at that Centre."

No response. Colin wasn't looking at him, was instead picking at the oil pastels' box with his left hand. His other hand was lying perfectly still in his lap, right where their mother had always told them to keep them when sitting down. She would have been so much better at this.

"Do you remember Daniel?"

The words came out of nowhere and startled Lex, until he realized that Colin had just asked the question.

Clearing his throat, Lex asked, "The last cook's assistant? Or the 'man-made maid?'"

It was an old joke between the three of them: Lex, Colin, and Lian. Daniel-the-maid was the one who'd found Lex's stash of fireworks one day when cleaning Lex's room.

They'd been illegal, but who really cared about fireworks? Colin, wandering in looking for him, had stumbled upon the situation, and courageously claimed the offending objects were in fact his own. Eventually, Daniel promised not to tell Lionel anything if Lex promised to just get rid of them. "And not by setting them off, either," Daniel had said heatedly. "That stuff's dangerous. You could blow off a hand or fingers or something, and then where would I be? 'The man-maid who let Lex Luthor cripple himself!'"

Colin begged him to do as Daniel said, and Lex, figuring discretion was in fact the better part of valor where Lionel and illegal fireworks were concerned, did just that. Of course, he 'got rid of them' by selling the whole lot to some stupid 'acquaintances' of his, but surely Lionel would approve of making a profit.

After that, Daniel had a special place in their hearts. The man referred to himself as the 'man-maid' because he claimed that, "It makes my job sound cooler." Lex and Colin enjoyed his sense of humor, and little Lian had just enjoyed saying 'man-made-maid,' over and over again.

Ultimately, Daniel had quit though, right before Lex left for college, if he remembered correctly.

"The 'man-maid,'" Colin replied, with a slight curling up in the corners of his mouth. Still not a smile, Lex thought.

"What about him?" Lex asked.

"What he said to us before he left," Colin replied. It wasn't quite a question, more like he wanted Lex to say it.

"As I recall, he said something along the lines of, 'Don't blow off your fingers. You're gonna need 'em some day.' Why? What does he have to with you looking so wrecked and," Lex added the next part very carefully, "not speaking?"

"Nothing," Colin said quickly. "Just thinking of better times, and all that."

Lex wasn't buying it, but then of course Colin probably knew that.

"If you won't talk to me about what's bothering you," Lex began, "won't you talk to Lian? He's really very concerned. He did ask me to talk with you, but-- "

"Yeah, you said that already. Nothing's wrong. Why don't you and Lian just go back to being best pals, and I'll be fine." And with that, Colin made another hasty exit, this time out the atrium doors and onto the grounds, with only a sweater to keep out the October chill.

Lex sighed and put his head in his hands. Well, that had gone exceedingly well. Lian would be overjoyed with how Lex had handled the situation. Problem solved. God, he was an ass. Obviously the direct approach wasn't going to work, and in hindsight he probably shouldn't have told Colin that basically the only reason he wanted to talk with him was because of Julian. That didn't make him seem particularly trustworthy, and made finding out what the fuck was going on virtually impossible.

He'd just have to try again, and again, until Colin finally gave in and told him why he was such a mess. The kid wasn't sleeping, that much was obvious. He was so skinny, he must have lost weight. He hadn't come down for dinner last night, and Lionel hadn't seemed surprised by his absence. And now he was going to be back here in the house all day. . . or at the Centre. And didn't that just give him the chills. The place was creepy and Colin had been 'schooled' there since he'd come to live with them.

God, he was so small, then, only about four. And thinking back, Lex could remember that Colin had barely spoken then, either. Lillian could often get him to say things, but usually only the polite words: yes, no, please, thank you. The kid never asked for anything. He never threw a tantrum, or refused to do what he was told. Colin was a good child, if by good one meant docile and extremely introverted. Lex remembered looking up the symptoms of autism because he'd thought perhaps Colin was different. He'd stare and stare at everything, and not say a word. Lillian used to read to them at night before bed, and while Lex pretended to let her because it made her happy, in all actuality he was the one who told her which books to read, and made sure she never forgot. He took it upon himself to pick out more books with pictures, so that Colin could enjoy them more, and liked to think he was the one who'd helped Colin fall in love with art.

The first time Colin had asked him if he had anything to 'make pictures on' happened a few months after he'd come to stay with them. Lillian had let Colin look through her old college art books, at one point even her portfolios, and so Lex wasn't all that surprised when the boy wanted to imitate what he'd been so engrossed in, when he wanted to create his own art. Lex asked his mom for some paper and art pencils and crayons, and then gave them to Colin. And, boy, were they surprised when Colin started drawing and coloring things like the 'Confusion of Tongues' and 'Hylas and the Nymphs,' in vivid detail. . . using only crayons.

Lex figured out two important things about Colin right then. The first was that Colin was a prodigy, and if he could do those drawings just from memory then he could most likely do other incredibly difficult things. The second thing Lex learned was that Colin hated attention, praise and compliments in particular. The boy just didn't know what to do when people talked to him. Lex tried to teach him, but Colin never really became comfortable or even accepting of compliments. He started deliberately hiding his drawings so that no one would see them and tell him how wonderful and special he was. Lex couldn't understand why Colin wanted to be invisible, why the kid tried so hard to disappear.

Growing up, they each had what the other wanted. Lex died a little more inside every time his father ignored him, or brushed him aside. And poor Colin had what Lex, looking back, can now identify as panic attacks each time Lionel, and more often than not Lillian too, spoke to him or asked him a question. Colin was an incredibly beautiful child and now devastatingly handsome as a teenager, and he had a head full of glorious hair. Lex was pale and pudgy as a child and, though slimmer and in possession of a better physique now, still incredibly pale as a man.

And Lex was hairless, almost completely so, certainly freakishly so. At least Julian had been blessed with their father's curly brown hair, and not their mother's painfully vibrant red. It had looked brilliant on her, but silly on Lex. Hey! There was the upside to having no hair. He no longer looked like Bozo the Clown. Now he only reminded people of an underfed Uncle Fester.

He should go find Julian, wait until later before approaching Colin again. Give the kid some time to cool down. And forgive Lex for being such a shitty older brother.

***

Dinner that night was pretty much the same as last night's, save Colin's presence across from Lex. Lionel single-mindedly ate his meal. Lian quietly finished his vegetables first, as though Lionel would even care if any of them didn't clean their plates.

Lex took to glancing over at Colin throughout the meal. The kid was just moving the food around, not even trying to fake eating. He also kept his eyes on Lionel almost the entire time. Again, Lex had the feeling he was watching something other than just Colin being angry at their father, and Lionel, as usual, being more interested in his brisket than in his dependents. There was some undercurrent there hinting that Lionel wasn't really all that indifferent to Colin's presence at the table, or to the kid's rage. Lionel's face would twitch whenever Colin deliberately set down his glass too hard on the table, or dropped his fork on the plate. Lex even caught the sound of a couple of sighs coming from his right, a sure sign Lionel was only acting uninterested.

By the end, they were all wound tighter than a new girdle, Lex practically dragging Lian away from the table. He hated eating there. One was reminded of the phrase inscribed on the gate of Hell when thinking of the Luthor dining room: Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.

***

Late that night, as he was reading, Lex became aware of a creaking sound outside his door. All at once he recalled his brief investigation of the same sound last night, and decided to make sure it was actually Lionel and not some servant bent on thievery.

Crossing his bedroom quickly but quietly, Lex carefully opened his door. He heard the footsteps just then passing down the hall towards Lian's room, and the master suite, and as he followed the person's quiet progress with his eyes, something in his belly coiled up and his mouth went dry. Finally the shadowed figure reached the set of windows just before Lionel Luthor's bedroom and was illuminated by the light of the moon. Lex saw him open the door easily and without hesitation, and slip inside. And Lex ever so gently shut his own door and turned around to rest his back against the inside. Feeling sick, he even thought quietly, in a whisper, Why is Colin going into Dad's bedroom in the middle of the night?

***

After that night's 'Great Event,' sleep was understandably elusive. He tried to go back to his book, but found his hands shaking and his eyes unable to focus on the page in front of him. Then the pacing began. It was a tendency of his that over the years his father had endeavored to mock out of him, with little success.

"If you get rattled so visibly, son," he'd once memorably said, "you'll never be able to do anything even remotely stressful. You'll always give the game away, and then where will we be, hmm? Perhaps you can be the official Luthorcorp pencil sharpener, though even that might be too much responsibility for such a delicate, sensitive, high-strung young man as yourself."

His father had been particularly vicious that summer, and Lex had a hard time remembering why exactly. It was most likely due to one of his son's scandalous exploits being published in newspapers and gossip mags nationwide, but there were so many 'good times' that had become publicized; Lex didn't even know where to begin figuring out which had set his father off so badly it elicited such scathing mockery. Usually Lionel's taunts and brutal remarks weren't as cruel as that one, but it was true that every now and then it seemed his father's sole mission in life was to see if he could make his sons cry.

Lex started posing questions in his mind, questions he would put to his father. 'Why is Colin going into your room at three in the morning?' probably wouldn't be the best bet, but it would succeed in taking the old snake by surprise. Hopefully. He wasn't sure exactly what Lionel's mind was capable of, and was hesitant to assume his father hadn't deliberately sought to rattle him. Could the whole thing be just another ploy to put Lex off-balance? Though if it were, then Colin's acting skills must have greatly improved during the three years Lex had been gone. The kid had never before been able to explicitly lie to anyone about anything. Not even to the help. Oh, he'd lied with his face just fine on numerous occasions, but it was his voice that had always given him away. Once he'd started talking, it'd been easy to hear the doubt and guilt thick in each word.

Lex ended up pacing for hours. Finally the sun made its appearance, and he gave up and went to shower. The hot water helped push away the storm raging in his head for a few minutes, enough for him to catch his breath and realize he'd been clenching his hands so tightly his fingernails had left bloody crescent-shaped moons on his palms.

As he dressed, he heard the opening and closing of a door down the hall, but refused to go and look. He knew which door it was, and the identity of the person sneaking through it.

***

Breakfast consisted of four cups of black coffee and glaring at his father. Lex could feel Lian's confusion from where he sat next to him, but forced himself to remain silent. This was neither the time nor the place for Lex's accusations. He'd corner his father later in the man's office, away from Lian and Colin.

And Lex hadn't been at all surprised that Colin was absent.

***

Lex challenged Lian to a game of chess, and his little brother gladly accepted. It had been years since Lex had played against someone he genuinely liked, and he'd never gone up against Lian. The boy had been too young when he'd lived in the house before, and Lex had made it a point to rarely step foot in the place the three years he'd been at university.

It turned out Lian was quite the chess shark. They played three games, and Lex lost twice. Twice! God, his brother would be formidable when he was older.

Towards the end of the second game, Lex had felt eyes on them from the doorway and glanced up to see his father watching them. Lionel was leaning against the door jamb, hands casually in his trouser pockets and a wistful look on his face. Although once he saw Lex had spotted him, he'd quickly schooled his expression to one of blank boredom. Their father had stood there until Lex escaped Lian's check by taking his nearby rook. When Lex had looked up again, his eyes caught his father's figure crossing the east hallway, and when he returned his gaze to the board and Lian, his brother had looked strangely apologetic.

Lex wasn't embarrassed or ashamed that his father saw Lian almost succeed at beating him. In fact he was proud, proud that Lian felt it wasn't necessary to hide how accomplished he was. That line of thought had made him think of Colin, and he'd wondered what the teenager was doing at that moment. Perhaps Lex should have invited him, and they could have made a tournament out of it. Again, guilt had washed over him, and he'd forced his concentration back to the board, just as his brother locked him into check-mate. The goofy grin on his own face was nothing compared to Lian's joyful eyes and triumphant smirk, and Lex had laughed for a long time, thoughts of Colin temporarily displaced.

***

A friend of his from boarding school had once spent the winter break with them at the house. He'd remarked that he was taken aback by the lack of brimstone and screaming, as Lex's descriptions of his father and home life had closely resembled those of the Devil and Hell, respectively. Lex had laughed, partly due to the comment itself, but mostly because of the time at which it'd been said. It was dinner and Bruce had been seated next to Colin and across from Julian, who had just turned four. The sour expression on his father's face was worth the lecture Lex had received that night, all about proper connections and useless playboys. And it was even better because Bruce's staying with them over Christmas and New Year's meant Lex traveled to Gotham for Spring Break and Easter. Although looking back, he now felt a little guiltier than he had then about abandoning his brothers to Lionel's not-so-tender mercies on Easter.

Easter had been Lillian's favorite holiday. His mother had loved pagan lore and custom, much to Lionel's shame, and had a virtual addiction to 'Peeps,' and his father was particularly harsh and snappish during that time of year. Well, then and around her birthday in December, a scant 12 days after Julian's. Basically, his father was snappish and harsh whenever something even remotely reminded him of his wife, which could possibly explain why his father rarely looked at Lex while talking to him, or at him. Lex looked more like Lillian, while Julian took after their father, at least in terms of physical characteristics. Although they both had their mother's ever-changing eyes, and both were left-handed like Lionel. In fact, all of the Luthor men were left-handed, as Colin predominantly used his left as well. In truth, Colin was ambidextrous, but had confessed to Lex one time late in the night that he used his left in order to fit into the family better.

During Bruce's stay at 'Chez Luthor,' the two of them had endeavored to spend as much time with Lex's two brothers as possible. Lex had missed them, and as Bruce had no real family besides his butler, he'd been greatly interested in the dynamic of Lex's. Though Lex repeatedly told his friend that the Luthors were not a normal family, Bruce continued to almost study Lian and Colin.

Thinking about Bruce brought about a feeling of melancholy these days. Lex hadn't been in contact with his former best friend in years. Last he knew, Bruce had been requested to leave (read: kicked out) of Princeton, and had soon after disappeared.

It was different now. These days, he kept more to himself, not really having any close friends, only acquaintances. Back at the academy, however, he and Bruce had hung around with a few other rich boys of similar mind-sets. It'd been necessary to have at least a couple fellows at your back who could fight, either with words or purely in the physical sense. Bruce had been the one to teach Lex how to block and dodge and give a hell of a mean right hook. He'd also been a font of wisdom and had constantly given out advice, advice he himself rarely took. Bruce would have made an excellent psychologist. He could almost dissect a person with his gaze, and could smell a lie a mile away. Even Lex wasn't immune. Bruce knew more about a person in five minutes of interaction than most people could figure out over several years' worth of intimacy.

Something came back to Lex now that he thought of Bruce's visit.

The four boys had been in the entertainment room. Lex and Bruce were watching a movie, while Colin drew and kept an eye on Lian. Throughout the evening, Bruce had been surreptitiously watching Colin, though not quite fooling Lex. At that time, Colin was using strictly red ink in his art and the boy's hands constantly looked as though they'd been coated in blood. When it was time to put Lian to bed, Colin volunteered to tuck their little brother in and read him his bedtime story, leaving Bruce, Lex, and his sketchbook alone in the room.

Bruce turned to Lex with a questioning look, then slid his eyes over to the abandoned sketch pad lying closed on the floor. 'Colin wouldn't like it,' Lex thought, but was greatly tempted himself to look at those closely guarded drawings. Colin never showed anyone his artwork anymore. . . anyone but Lionel, that is.

Both of them rose from the leather sofa at the same time and walked over to the book, where Lex reached down to pick it up. Starting at the beginning, they carefully studied the whole of each piece before Lex would turn the page to the next. This continued until they reached the last drawing, at which point they both stood, shocked speechless.

The majority of Colin's art featured the outdoors, and his landscapes were intricately inked and incredibly detailed. Every tree had leaves upon leaves upon leaves, all in that surreal, unsettling red, and every sky had stars, regardless of whether sun or moon was also present. In fact, some of the drawings were so fantastical (three moons!) and complex, Lex felt he would never be able to see everything present on the page.

There were only five that had people, at all: one each of Lex, Julian, Bruce, and two of Lionel. Colin had drawn Bruce in profile and took artistic license with the boy's expression (at least, Lex had never before seen Bruce look. . . happy), while Julian was captured mid-tickle, his chubby child face nearly split in two, the kid's grin was so huge. In the drawing of Lian, Lex had a sneaking suspicion those were his own hands doing the tickling, as he could just barely make out a watch suspiciously like his Napoleon. In the drawing of Lex, Colin had used crosshatching in an attempt to capture a close-up of his face. . . scowling and eyes directed to his right.

It was the two drawings of Lionel though that were seared into Lex's mind, as he replaced the book on the floor exactly as it had been, and the two of them resumed their seats on the sofa. In the first, Lionel was standing in his office, arms flung wide and expression full of suppressed rage and blatant disgust. It was a look Lex had seen often enough to recognize that Colin had captured their father's face almost perfectly.

As uncomfortable and painful as the first had been, the second drawing disturbed Lex even more. It depicted the head and naked torso of his father, but it was the look on Lionel's face that stirred that horrified feeling in Lex. For the drawing Colin had been working on not ten minutes before showed his adoptive father in the throes of what could only be sexual ecstasy. In fact, by looking at the drawing, the viewer was placed into the perspective of the person being made love to, or, considering it was Lionel, fucked. God, why would Colin draw that?!

Now, Lex knows he should have asked. He might have even got a response back then. They'd still talked to each other somewhat though, granted, not as much. Christ, what must Bruce have thought? Lex chuckled and abruptly closed his mouth, teeth coming together with an audible click. It was no time to get hysterical.

After all, his father was only molesting his adopted brother. Nothing there to get hysterical about.

Not at all.

***

At a quarter to three in the afternoon, Lex was pacing in his room again when Lian came bursting through the door, pale and loud.

"Lian, what's-- ?"

"Lex, he won't come down! I tried to get him away, but he won't," Lian choked back a sob "He won't-- !"

Lex grabbed Lian by his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Lian, who won't come down? From where?"

"He's on the roof! Colin! He won't come down, Lex! I tried, I did, Lex-- !"

And for some strange reason, Lex's brain chose that exact moment to glitch and focus back onto the night he and Bruce had looked through that damned sketch book.

Lex was still in shock when Bruce broke the silence.

"Did you see the figure in the eyes?" he asked quietly and ominously -- a Bruce trademark. "Lex."

"Huh? Pardon, what'd you say?"

"I asked if you had seen the figure Colin drew in each eye."

"What figure? There was a figure?" Lex asked dazedly, still attempting to restart his brain.

"There was a curly-haired boy drawn crouching in each figure's left pupil."

Lex jumped up and ran back to the book. He flung it open and of course it landed on the page most recently creased and pressed: that last drawing of Lionel. And as Lex looked more closely, he saw exactly what Bruce had described. A small boy with wild hair was drawn crouched in fear in the center of his father's fully dilated left pupil. Colin had drawn himself as a terrified four year-old, exactly the age he'd been when he first arrived in their lives.

What the hell did that mean?

***

When Lex was 11, Christmas had been celebrated without much fanfare or pomp. Lionel had been absent that year, overseas in Tokyo, if he remembered correctly, but it was also due to the fact that it was Colin's first Christmas with them. Lillian had wanted the boy to feel comfortable and at home, rather than anxious and uneasy in his new father's habitual and formal observation of the holiday. Lionel had brought the four-year-old home in mid-January of that same year, and so while technically Colin's first holiday with them had been Easter (as Lionel refused to acknowledge either St. Valentine's or St. Patrick's Day for some reason known only to the man himself), everyone knew Christmas was a much bigger and more important holiday than any of the others throughout the year. In fact, growing up, Lex recalled that December was especially hectic and chaotic with party-planning and decorating because Lillian's birthday was December 29, and the Luthors always threw a huge banquet and ballroom extravaganza on New Year's Eve, combining both events into one gigantic celebration.

That Christmas of 1991 was the source of some of Lex's favorite memories, not only because of his father's absence, but also because it was the last time they'd ever happily celebrated that holiday. The next year's had been almost nonexistent. Lillian had been in the hospital, and little Lian, barely a week old and so tiny, had just been brought home.

Lillian died on January 9, 1993 at 7:20 p.m. Lionel was with her in the room, Lex had been at home on the phone pleading and crying a message to a doctor's answering service in Gotham, and Colin had been at the Centre. Julian had been upstairs in the nursery with the nanny looking after him, asleep in his crib with no knowledge of what was going on.

But that Christmas the year before had been wonderful, full of laughter and smiles. Lex had taken to guiding Colin through the various traditions and activities he and his mother always planned, and the boy couldn't have been more excited and cheerful. Lex had gifted him with a set of his favorite Warrior Angel comics, figuring Colin would enjoy the art. In return, Colin had drawn a detailed portrait of Lex and Lillian, giving it to him along with a bear hug. Lex's face had been sore at the end of the day, he'd smiled so much.

The date of Colin's birthday was something of a mystery. Lex had once overheard a conversation between his parents where the words 'abandoned' and 'junkies' had come up. So Lillian had decided to celebrate both her own and her new son's birthday together that year. It'd been left up to Lex to fully explain why Colin had to wear a suit and tie to an adult's party, but finally he just said, "Because it will make Mom happy," at which point his new little brother had simply nodded sagely and stopped asking.

They celebrated neither Lillian's nor Colin's birthday the next year, and the year after that his father insisted on changing Colin's to August 21, the same as Lionel's own. And every year since 1993, Luthorcorp hosted the big New Year's party downtown. . . and Lionel was away for Christmas.

Poor Julian's birthday was always overshadowed by the impending anniversary of his mother's death, her 'would-have-been' birthday, and the bittersweet memories of Christmases and New Year's Days past. Lex tried to make the day special, but knew their father's continued absence made it hard not to take it personally. Lian grew up thinking his birth had caused his own mother's death, when really she'd been dying of cancer before he'd even been conceived. No matter how many times Lex tried to convince his youngest brother it wasn't his fault their father was an icy bastard, although he never used those exact words, Lian was never as happy as a child should be to see his next birthday.

Colin was sent to the Centre over the winter holidays and, looking back, Lex realized after his mother died, Colin was wholly Lionel's, even more so and in different ways than either Lex or Lian. Colin became Lionel's shadow, the man's puppet. The kid grew his hair out and began wearing business casual. Whenever Lex would come home from boarding school, Colin would speak less and less, until Lex thought he only talked to Lionel. Evidently it was just Lex he ignored, as Julian had said Colin sometimes answered his questions.

Lex knew his mother would be upset if she could see what had become of their family: Lex despising Lionel, and virtually abandoning his younger brothers to him; Lian so alone; and poor, poor Colin. But if Lillian knew what her husband was doing to her sons, he was also pretty sure she'd forgive Lex his hatred. His mother had been so kind and affectionate, but she'd had no problem yelling at Lionel when she felt he'd done something so horribly 'Luthor-like,' as she had called it. If only she were here now, none of this would have happened.

'What if's' weren't going to help any of them now though, and Lex knew he had to step up and save his brothers himself.

***

"Jesus!" Lex exclaimed. Grabbing Lian's arm, he began pushing him towards the door and out into the hallway saying, "Show me where he is. How long has he been up there?"

Lian took a deep breath then broke into a run down the hall, Lex hot on his heels. They climbed a set of stairs leading to the attic, and that would eventually give access to the roof.

"I don't know," Lian gasped out. "But when I went to knock on his door. . . there was no answer. . . so I tried the atrium and the kitchen. . . and the gazebo outside. . . and when I was going back into the house, I looked up. . . and there were papers falling into the bushes." Lian said all this breathlessly, and no wonder. He must have run up to Colin on the roof -- why was the kid throwing paper? -- then down to Lex, and was now hurrying back up the stairs a second time.

Finally the two of them reached the top of the stairs, and Lex could see the door to the attic already ajar. Lex overtook Julian on the straight shot to the roof stairwell, ran up them three at a time, and burst through the door at the top to find his breath stolen by the bitter wind whipping across the roof. He felt Julian push him out of the way and rush to the left, and quickly followed after him, nose running and hands slick with sweat.

"See, Lin, I brought Lex," Lian said as he approached the figure Lex could now make out at the far side of the building. The cold and strength of the wind were causing both of them to tear up, but Lex refused to hesitate, as he caught up to Lian and laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, stopping him. He slowly walked past and closer to Colin.

He could make out four sketch books on the ledge beside Colin, and the sound of ripping paper and howling wind was a constant backdrop, as Lex shouted to be heard above the roaring of his own blood and pounding heart.

"Colin, what are you doing? What if you fall? There are safer ways to dispose of your work. I'm sure we could find a nice paper shredder for you, if you just come down!"

The boy was standing on the ledge of the roof, ripping out pages of drawing paper by the fistful and then flinging them out into the wind. He had no coat or jacket on, just a short-sleeved shirt and slacks. . . and bare feet, Lex saw as he looked down. It had snowed last night, and the weather hadn't warmed up enough to melt it away. Colin was standing on a snow-covered ledge, six and a half stories off the ground, in freezing weather with naught but a shirt and pants. God, one wrong angling of his body and the wind would just carry him right over the side.

"Please, Colin! Just come away from the edge, and I'll help you throw it all over! Lian can take some, too! We'll make a bonding experience out of it! 'Luthors on the Roof.' Colin!" Lex had finally come within reaching distance of his brother and, as he said the boy's name again, stretched out a hand towards Colin's arm. "Please, come down," he said more quietly now. "Please, Colin." Maybe if he just kept saying 'please' and 'Colin,' his crazy-ass younger brother would come away from the edge. Lex hated heights, and knew Colin did, too. "God, please come down, Colin," he begged, hearing his voice break and quaver.

Suddenly, Colin flung what was left of the sketch pad in his hand over the side, and reached to his left for another. As he did so, Lex finally got a good look at his brother's face, and felt the last bit of warmth escape his body. Colin was smiling, no. . . no, smiling was too tame and stable a word for the expression on his face. Colin was grinning and laughing and crying all at the same time. His movements as he ripped out the pages and pages of beautiful drawings were jerky and abrupt and so quick Lex felt he was looking at a marionette, and not his brother at all.

Laying his right hand against Colin's elbow, he said quietly, "You're scaring Lian, Colin, and you're scaring me too. Please, come down. He isn't worth it." Lex said this and it was his trump card. If Colin didn't turn around or step off the ledge, then Lex didn't know what he was going to do.

But Colin did react. Lex could feel him stop moving. The boy's hands drifted down to his sides, and as Lex brought his eyes up to Colin's face he saw not that manic expression but only sadness and defeat. His shoulders slumped and sobs broke free, as he gently handed Lex the sketch pad in his hands.

"I'm sorry," Colin sobbed, looking Lex in the eyes. "I'm sorry." He just stood there crying, and Lex came back to himself and dropped the book in the snow in his haste to pull Colin off the ledge. He stumbled into him, and Lex hugged him close in order to keep both of them upright.

"God, Colin. God. . . " was all that came out of his mouth. He could hear Julian running to them, and just squeezed Colin tighter to his chest. When did he get so damned tall, Lex thought hysterically.

"Colin!" Lian exclaimed from Lex's right. "God, why? Why were you doing that? I looked for you! Everywhere! I was so afraid you were gonna jump-- !" Lian abruptly stopped talking, shooting a look at Lex. Not now, Lex willed him. Let's get him off the roof first, Lian.

Lex slowly shifted Colin to his side, and began gradually heading back to the door. Lian would get the sketch books and Lex would take them all down to his room and Colin would take a hot shower -- Jesus, what if he got frostbite? How long had he been up there in the snow?! -- and then Lex would wrap him in a blanket and talk to him. He'd tell him that he knew, and that it wasn't Colin's fault. Lex would be his big brother, and he would fix this. If it were the last thing he ever did, Lex would fix this.

***

For his first semester at college, he attended Princeton and lived with Bruce. They shared a townhouse in Lawrenceville, six miles and about twelve minutes away from campus, not including the time it took to find a parking spot. Well, for Lex it was usually twelve minutes. Bruce left half an hour before any of his classes, but then again he didn't drive like a maniac, either.

Their place was nice. . . nice and staid and ridiculously expensive. Lex hated it. He didn't know what Bruce thought, as the man had become even broodier the last few months. The house was 1300 sq. feet, comprised of three bedrooms, though only the one was used regularly, each with its own bath, a big kitchen which neither of them really knew how to use apart from making coffee and toast, the usual living and dining rooms, and a pool.

Lex actually liked the courses he was taking at Princeton. He'd decided to go for an A.B. in Engineering Physics and found nanotechnology so fascinating and challenging he often fell asleep at the kitchen table, head resting on the pages of one of his books. He loved it.

Bruce, however, acted like he was a robot on autopilot, simply going through the motions as the semester flew by. He left the house after Lex in the morning, and was already there when Lex came home in the evening. Frankly, Lex didn't even know what Bruce's major was, or if he even had one. The man didn't seem to socialize, didn't go to parties. Maybe he didn't even go to class, but just stayed in the house all day. Lex thought of him during his commutes to campus, but always ended up pushing his worries to the back of his mind until the drive home, and by then he was so swamped and exhausted and wired all at the same time, he never got around to talking to Bruce.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was neglecting everything and everyone in his life these days except his schoolwork, but there wasn't any way he could do it all. Lionel often barged in unexpectedly, checking up on him. Julian called and left messages three, four times a week. Lex always had papers and labs and research project after research project to turn in, and study groups and extracurriculars and it was all so overwhelming he was just trying to make it through finals and then he'd be able to just. . . breathe, and sleep the sleep of the dead for three weeks. Then it would start all over again.

But he really did love college. He enjoyed the change of environment, and the people in his classes were simply kindred spirits. He was a glorified Science Major, and seeing and interacting with all his fellow nerds and outcasts was a balm to his freakish soul.

He did feel guilty whenever Julian called, though. More often than not, he just wasn't there. He'd come home to Bruce sitting in the dark, looking out the window, telling him his little brother had called again. The first few times this happened, Lex thought Bruce meant Colin. After awhile, he learned not to expect any communication from his adopted brother, and simply asked after him when he finally did manage to talk to Lian.

So it was a bit of a surprise when after his last final of the year, Advanced Multivariable Calculus 203, he came into the house, tossed his keys in the bowl by the door, dropped his bag and coat haphazardly, and came into the living room to the sound of Bruce talking on the phone. Bruce was never on the phone. Lex had never seen him use it before, not once.

Assuming it was just Lionel cancelling 'the inspection' before heading into New York, Lex walked to the fridge in search of an apple. The tabloids had recently linked his father to a senator's ex-wife, and he had no doubt in his mind that all those recent trips to the Big Apple weren't solely business-related. Although as he continued to listen to the one-sided conversation, he gradually realized Bruce was not in fact talking to Lionel.

"Hey, hey! Calm down, he just came in the door. I'll put him on, and everything will be fine. Okay, Julian?"

Lex rushed over to grab the phone out of Bruce's hand at the exact same moment Bruce held it out for him. The result was the wind being knocked out of him, and the odd feeling of having the antenna slip into his belly button.

"Urgh," he huffed out. "Give it here, Bruce." He roughly grabbed the phone, and turned his back to Bruce. "Lian? What's going on?" He could hear heavy breathing and sniffling over the line, and immediately switched gears from lazy-college-student-on-break to older, concerned-brother-in-control. "Lian? Hey, Kid, what's the matter?" he asked quietly.

"God, Lex. They took him away and he was so pale! I know I'm not supposed to call you, but I didn't know what else to do! Are you coming home? Dad said you weren't and that I wasn't to go bothering you but, Lex, he was dead! He looked dead, Lex!"

Lian's voice had gotten higher and shriller as he'd talked and panicked over the phone, and Lex had a sick feeling he knew who his brother was talking about. It could only be one person.

"Lian, I want you to take a breath and slowly let it out," Lex ordered in his calmest, most soothing voice, and could hear as Julian did just as he'd said. "Now. . . tell me what happened from the beginning, okay? What's wrong with Colin?"

"He was acting funny last night, all mean to Dad and asking him if he wanted to see his drawings, and he wasn't wearing his necklace. And then Dad got mad and asked him what he thought he was doing and told Lin to go to his room. But Lin got even madder and threw his plate at the wall, and it broke, Lex."

Lex took a breath, and tried to keep his shock under control as he asked, "And then what happened, Lian?"

"I didn't see him for. . . for awhile. He left and went to his room, like Dad said. But I heard them yelling at each other when I went to bed, they were down the hall in Dad's room. And then I went to the bathroom in the morning, and I. . . I saw him. Lin. He was. . . he was just lying there, Lex! He wasn't breathing and his lips were blue and he was so pale. I screamed and then Dad was there, and Kate came and made me wait in the hall, and then Dad was yelling again, except this time into a phone. . . and-- "

At this point, Lian stopped talking and his sniffling became full-out crying. God, what was Lex supposed to do over the phone? If he were there in person, he would've given his brother a hug and hung onto him while Lian talked. But then again, if he were at the house with Lian, he already would have known what had happened.

"Who's Kate, Lian?" Lex asked, hoping it would distract his brother long enough for him to calm down a bit.

"My new nanny. Dad fired Julia last month. He said she was too nosey and was probably stealing, but I don't think she was. I liked Julia, Lex. She looked after me and Lin real well, and she didn't make fun of him like Chelsea did."

Lex didn't quite know what to say to that, either. He hadn't been aware Chelsea had made fun of Colin. Lex had met her when he'd been back at the house around this time last year. She'd been Lian's nanny then, and Lex had actually kind of liked the woman. She'd had a dry sense of humor and dressed rather conservatively for a woman hired by Lionel. Why would she have made fun of Colin? Nothing was making sense, and Lex was worried it wasn't simply the fact that he was tired.

"So who's there with you now, Lian? Is Kate with you? And who told you that you couldn't call me? You know I love it when we talk. You can call anytime you want, Lian. Anytime, okay?"

"Dad told me not to," Lian said quietly. "He said I wasn't to bother you with this, that it was nothing. But. . . but I thought you should know. I mean, I'm real worried, Lex. I think. . . I think Lin was really dead. But they came and put him on a. . . on a stretcher. And Dad and his new assistant were talking and then Dad left, and the assistant stayed here for awhile, but then he got a phone call and he left, too. Daniel. His name's Daniel." Lian said all this in his unique way, flitting back and forth between the story and setting the scene. The boy was good with details, Lex thought, distractedly. He'd make a good spy. . . or Luthor.

"I'm glad you called me, Kiddo," Lex said reassuringly. "I want to know if anything's wrong. And just because I'm not living in the house doesn't mean I don't care, okay? Where's Colin now, do you know?"

"Dad was yelling at someone named Garner, Dr. Garner. He told him that if he didn't meet them at the Centre in 20 minutes, he wouldn't be going anywhere ever again. That's when Daniel came over, and he told Kate to take me to the kitchen, like I was some baby. I wanted to go with Lin in the ambulance to the hospital. He was so sick, Lex, why didn't Dad take him to the hospital? When Mom was sick, she went to the hospital. Lin told me so. And Graham at school said that once his Uncle Charlie had to go to the hospi-- "

Lian kept talking, but Lex couldn't focus on the words any longer. Too much information was cascading across the phone line and it was taking longer than usual to filter into his head. A Dr. Garner. Lex would have to look into him, and see what the hell Lionel was doing at that goddamn Centre. He had taken Colin there instead of to the hospital for treatment of what sounded like a suicide attempt. Lian hadn't said anything about blood, so Lex assumed it was a drug overdose. Jesus, Colin was only 12 fucking years old! He rarely left the house unsupervised. Where would he even get drugs? How would he buy them? It's not like Lionel gave them credit cards or cash. Well, he hadn't given Lex credit cards or cash, but maybe it was different with Colin. After all, Lionel had always treated the boy differently than he did either Lex or Lian.

And what was with the necklace, Lex wondered, as he recalled something Lian had mentioned earlier in the conversation. Colin had worn that thing for as long as Lex could remember. Why now did the kid suddenly decide to get rid of it? Had he and Lionel had some kind of fight? Julian had mentioned hearing them yelling at each other.

God, his head hurt and he didn't know what to do. How was he supposed to help if he were all the way in fuckin' New Jersey?! He hadn't planned on coming home for winter break, and he'd forgotten all about Lian stuck in that house with only his nanny and the help for company. Although, considering some of the experiences Lex had had with their father growing up, maybe his kid brother was better off spending Christmas without the rest of the Luthors. It might be lonely, but at least he wouldn't be humiliated and mocked by his own father. Lionel was a dangerous and cagey creature in the best of circumstances, and the winter holidays were most definitely some of the worst circumstances there were to be had.

" --but I told him that I didn't think the teacher would like that, so he just stuck his tongue out at me and turned around. Lex? Are you still there?" Lian's voice suddenly came to a stop, and Lex realized he had to respond.

"Yeah, I'm just shocked," Lex told him. "You said you weren't supposed to call me, that Dad had told you not to. I don't want you to get in trouble, Lian, so I think I'd better let you go, okay? But don't worry, I'll call Dad and find out what's going on. And I'll make it a point to talk to you tomorrow. Your birthday's only a couple days from now, right?" That's right, Lex, he thought. Remind him that you won't be there for it. Smart move, Luthor.

He heard a sniffle and a small sigh, and then Lian's young voice said, "Yeah, only two days away. But you won't be here, and neither will Dad. And now Lin won't, either. They'll make him stay at the Centre, won't they? Now that something bad happened, he won't be able to spend Christmas with me. Lin said he'd ask Dad if he could stay here. . . with me, but now I'll be all alone." The sniffling was back in full force, and Lex swore he could actually hear the tears running down Lian's face. "But it'll still be fun," Lian said in a monotone voice, "even without you. Kate's here and she's nice. You and Bruce can have Christmas there in New Jersey, Lex. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." And then he hung up. Lian hung up on him.

He took a moment to just calm down after pushing the 'Off' button. Then he turned around and saw Bruce looking at him, sitting on the sofa across the room.

"Suicide attempt?" Bruce asked calmly, as though he were asking the temperature outside.

"I don't know," Lex answered. "I'm beginning to think I don't know anything." And with that he turned and set the phone back in its cradle, passing by Bruce on his way into their bedroom.

***

Interrupt

Lian had always had a hard time understanding his brothers' relationship, or really non-relationship. He had vague memories of the two of them always talking and joking once upon a time, but had come to the conclusion that perhaps he'd just made that up because the last few years, ever since Lex had started college, they never spoke to each other at all. Lex used to ask how Colin was doing. When he'd been in New Jersey, Lex had always asked. But then, he'd been living with Bruce, not by himself like he was now. Maybe Bruce had made him ask or something. No, that didn't make sense, Lian thought. Why would Bruce care whether or not Lex. . . cared.

Lian had always looked up to Lex. His brother was everything Lian wanted to be, except for the baldness. He liked his own hair, even if it was too short. Dad had told Julia that Lian's hair should be kept at a certain length, and no longer than that. It barely curled, it was so short! Lian wanted hair like Lin's. Lin's was so cool and. . . and chic. That was the word. It was a little longer than Dad's, and less wavy. One time, Lian had asked why Lin's hair wasn't curly, cos he'd seen pictures of Lin when he was younger and his hair had been shorter and really curly. Lin had said that his hair was so thick and heavy the curls were pulled straight. He'd even let Lian touch his hair. Smooth, was what Lian had thought. Lin's hair was like the silk shirts Julia made him wear to Dad's parties, or the petals on the lilies in the dining room.

All his nannies over the years had seemed so surprised when they met Lin. A lot of them would ask his brother lots and lots of questions and smile a lot, and when Lin wouldn't answer they'd get that ugly expression on their faces. Lian always told them his brother didn't talk much, never had as far as Lian knew, and he didn't know why they wouldn't believe him. It was like they got insulted when Lin didn't chatter right back at them, but Lian told them. His brother just didn't like being around people, that was all.

He always hung out with Lian, though, which made him feel special. Lin always made time for him. He'd talk to him sometimes, too. Lian remembered the time he'd asked Lin about Waterhouse. Lin was always so into art, that Lian had gone and looked up some artists to talk to him about, and when he'd brought it up, his brother'd just started speaking a mile a minute. Lian had been surprised, to say the least. That was the most he'd ever heard Lin say at one time. In fact, it must have been a while since his brother had spoken to anyone, cos his voice seemed all different from what Lian remembered, deeper and quieter. Lian had asked if Lin were sick, or if he had a cold, and remembered that Lin had laughed and slapped him on the back. "'Am I sick,' he asks," was what Colin had said as he chuckled. Though Lian hadn't gotten why that was funny, he'd liked seeing Lin laugh. His brother didn't laugh that much.

Now Lian always tried to get him to laugh, and sometimes it worked, but never right after his brother got home from the Centre. If Lian saw Colin come in with that one look on his face, he knew not to make any jokes for awhile. He'd just go and sit with him in the atrium, or sometimes they'd watch those movies Lin liked so much by that one director. Lian didn't really like them, because they were all so dark and sad and just weird. Barton or Burdon, or something was the name. Lin only watched them when he was sad or upset, though, so that's when Lian knew to sit with him.

Ever since that one time when Lin had been upset, Lian always tried to keep his brother company when he didn't feel well. He didn't want something like that to ever happen again. He'd been so afraid Lin was dead, and Lex hadn't been there to fix it, and then Lian would have been all alone.

But, nothing like that ever happened again, so Lian thought maybe by sitting with Lin, he'd helped somehow. He was Lin's lucky charm, maybe. Nothing bad would happen if Lian were with him. If Lex wouldn't talk to Lin, and if he weren't there to protect them, then Lian would do it. Lin needed someone to look after him, someone besides Dad, cos Dad wasn't all that good at. . . caring, either. He was always so busy. . . but Lian could do it. He knew exactly what Colin needed. He knew when to just talk to him. Even though Lin didn't always answer back, Lian knew he liked being talked to. If no one talked to him, then they just ignored him, and Lian didn't think that must have felt good, to be ignored like that.

But Julia, his new nanny, she didn't do that. She talked to Lin, and sometimes she could get him to smile, too, so Lian liked her. She was pretty and she had a nice voice, not all high and thin like Sophie's had been, and she never ever made fun of Colin. Chelsea had done that. Chelsea was Lian's nanny up until a few weeks ago, and he'd liked her at first. That is, until he heard her talking to one of the maids.

Lian had been on his way to the entertainment room, and the door on his left had been open, Chelsea's voice drifting out. He didn't know if he should check in or just keep going, so he stopped to think. If she were busy, which she seemed to be, maybe he should just quietly creep past, but then he'd heard her say something mean. . .

" --and, God, could that kid be any freakier?! I mean, sure he's pretty, but never saying anything, just sitting and staring? Weird! I'm beginning to think the reason the ol' bastard's kept him home is cos the kid's retarded. Why else would the boy not be in school like Julian? He must have-- "

Lian had left at that point. He didn't want to hear anymore of her meanness. Colin wasn't weird or freaky or retarded. He was super-smart, really, and he could draw so amazingly well, and just cos he was shy and didn't talk to Chelsea, didn't mean he wasn't so nice and cool. Lin was the best brother, even better than Lex. Lian felt guilty after thinking that, but it was true. Lex never came home, and when Lian called him it seemed like he always had to leave a message because Lex wasn't at his home, either. And Lex never asked after Colin when he did get around to calling back. He just didn't care anymore.

But Lin did. Lin asked about Lex after every time Lian got off the phone. He told him stories about their mother sometimes too. And Lin was also there when Lian felt sad. If he were hiding out in his room, or just didn't feel like playing, Lin always found him. His brother would come in and just sit with him on his bed. And Lin hugged him. It used to be that only his nannies would hug him, but when Lin put his arms around him that first time, Lian felt like he was really loved. And after that, he didn't even have to wait for Lin to hug him. He could cuddle up to Lin and his brother would just smile and kiss him on the head.

But Julia, his newest nanny, she gave him hugs and kisses too. She didn't try to hug Colin, though, which was probably a good idea. Lian wasn't sure how Lin would have reacted to her touching him, but he knew his brother wouldn't have liked it. She smiled at Lin, though, and gave him compliments. One time, Lin had been sort of escorting Lian down to the atrium, all the while Lian had been jabbering on like crazy. When they'd gotten there, Julia had been waiting, surrounded by construction paper and scissors with funny blades. She'd smiled at them and told Lin he was a great older brother. Lin had smiled back so brightly, Lian had instantly thought of the sun. Colin liked the atrium a lot. It was the sunniest room in the house, year-round, and Lian thought maybe that was the reason. Maybe Lin felt comfortable in the sunlight. If it made him smile that much, Lian would try to get him in there all the time!

But Lin couldn't spend all his time there. He had schoolwork to do, even if he didn't attend an academy like Julian, or a college like Lex. Colin had tutors who came to the house Tuesdays and Thursdays. Lian had seen them last month, when he was still home every day for the summer break. Two of them came, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon. And on Mondays and Wednesdays Lin went to the Centre all day. He'd leave with Dad in the morning, and then they'd come home around six at night. Fridays, Lin just stayed home and worked on his assignments.

And Lian didn't know why Lin didn't go to school. He just never had, and that was all there was to it. It was the same as how he knew Lex didn't have any hair, and hadn't since he'd been nine. No one ever talked about it, so Lian didn't think it was okay to ask. Lin probably would have told him, but he didn't want to risk upsetting him. What if it were because of something bad? So he just left it alone.

He'd come to understand that asking Dad questions wasn't the best idea, either. Lin had told him that he used to ask questions too, but he'd asked Lex. Lin said Lex had helped him when he was first adopted. Lian remembered that was the first time he'd ever heard that Colin was adopted. He hadn't known that, but it made sense. It explained why Lin didn't really look like him, or Lex, or Dad, or those pictures he'd seen of their mother. Hearing that made Lian wonder what had happened to Lin's original parents, but of course he didn't say anything. Lin would only have been like three or four when he'd come to live with them, so maybe he didn't even know, or couldn't remember. But Lian was his brother, whether or not they shared the same blood. Nothing would change that.

And maybe Lex would come back someday, and they could be a real family. Lian wished for that a lot, at least once a day. If only Dad would spend more time at home, maybe he'd be nicer and not so mean to Lin, always grabbing at him and squeezing his shoulders, which always made Lin wince, every time. And if Dad was nicer, then Lex would come home and live here in the house, like he never really did for that long. They'd all be happy.

It sounded like the end to a fairy tale, which meant that it would probably never ever come true. But Lian could still wish for it. In the meantime, he'd talk to Lex, and he'd keep Lin company and try to make his brothers happy and proud of him, and he'd try to be a good son for Dad. All he could do was try.

***

God, his hands were shaking. He should stop that. Lex couldn't remember the last time his hands had-- where was Colin, again? Not on the roof, he'd gotten him down, right? Yeah, and then they'd--

"He's in the shower, Lex," Lian's voice said from his right. "Don't you remember? You got him away from the edge, and then we brought him down here and put him in the shower. He's right there, Lex, right in front of you." Lian's hand lifted from his shoulder -- had it always been there? -- and pointed straight in front of him. "See? Right there."

The hand dropped, and Lian leaned over to put his left arm across Lex's shoulders, his right coming up to grip Lex's arm. Lex took the time between Lian speaking and moving to look where the hand had pointed, and, yes, there was Colin. He was facing away from them, water sluicing down his back, head fully under the spray and arms braced against the tile wall in front of him. He's naked, Lex thought. Lian must have done that. . . or did I do that? Shock, that's what this was. Lex must be in shock, just like when his mother had died. Just breathe, he told himself. Breathe and it'll pass.

He was sitting on the small built-in couch, almost like a window-less window seat. . . a wall seat, he thought hysterically. His brother's arms were around him, and he was shaking. He was shaking because he'd been up on a roof on a snowy October day with no coat trying to get his brother away from the edge. Shock and cold. Lian wasn't shaking. He must have been wearing a coat--

"It's all right, Lex," Lian said. "We're all here and safe. You can flip out now if you want to. I flipped out, remember? I just stood there. It was you who got him to come down." The arms pulled away, and he felt Lian's body leave the couch. He was moving across the bathroom towards the shower. "Lin? I've got a towels here for you," Lian said soothingly, holding the blood-red material in his outstretched hands. The shower was now shut off, but Colin wasn't moving. He just stood there, still as a statue.

"I'm sorry you had to come up there," Colin said quietly to the tile wall. Lex could feel himself finally coming back, and he stood up and walked over to stand beside Lian. "I didn't mean to-- I didn't want. . . I mean, I wasn't going to jump," Colin finished, voice low and defensive.

"Colin, why don't you come out, and dry off?" Lex suggested, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. He took one of the towels from Lian and reached to open the shower door. He unfolded the towel and laid it across Colin's shoulders, leaving his hands resting on top of them. "Come on out, and we'll talk, okay? We should get you into some warm clothes."

Slowly, his brother lifted his left hand and placed it atop Lex's. Then he slipped his hand under it and began drying himself off, forcing Lex to remove his hands and step back out of the stall. Once done, Colin wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it, stepped out of the shower onto the tile floor of the bathroom, and just stood there, looking at the floor. Lian reached over to drape the other towel around Colin's shoulders and guided him across the hall into Lex's room, where there was a set of clothes lying on the chair next to the window. . . a set of Colin's clothes.

"Here, Lin," Lian said, stopping in front of the chair. "Put these on, and we'll stay here and talk, okay?"

Lex took a seat on the small sofa that faced the fireplace, leaning forward with his forearms resting against his thighs, hands clasped together in front of him. He took a deep breath and held it. . . and then sighed it out. God, what was he going to say? And in front of Lian?

He looked up a moment later and saw Colin had finished getting dressed. Lex motioned for him to come sit on the sofa. As Colin walked over, Lian went to the chair on Lex's right and scooted forward to sit on the very edge of the cushion. Colin sat down next to Lex, hunched over with his hands in his lap and his head down. Lex angled his body to better face Colin, took a breath, and plunged right in there.

"I want you to know first off, how very sorry I am for essentially abandoning you." He turned his head and glanced at Lian as he said, "Both of you. I know I haven't been much of a brother, but that changes now. Brothers should be able to talk to one another, or at least trust each other," Lex added, not wanting to put any additional pressure on Colin to speak when he didn't want to.

"I-- I think I know what's been going on, Lin," he said, watching as Colin's head popped up, and his brother looked at him fearfully. "I think I know that Dad's been. . . that he's done something terrible to you, and I want to tell you that, no matter what, this isn't your fault." He reached out and picked up Colin's hands, focusing solely on him. "I know I said some things awhile back. You might hate me right now, and I wouldn't blame you, but I didn't have the whole story then, and. . . It isn't your fault, Colin, and it never was. You didn't do anything wrong. Whatever happened back then, it wasn't your fault."

Colin's expression changed from fear and dread into one of sneering disbelief. He started trying to tug his hands out of Lex's grasp, but Lex just held on tight.

"I always knew he was an asshole. I just didn't realize how it bad it really was. But now I do, and I'm telling you, Colin, that whatever shit has happened because I wasn't here is not your fault. You're not his property, and he doesn't have the right to touch you." Lex hesitated before adding quietly, "Like that."

"What?" Lian asked suddenly. "Like what? Lex, what's going on? What're you talking about?"

Lex, still holding tightly to Colin's hands and looking only at him, said in response to Lian's questions, "He's molesting Colin, and has been for years. Isn't he?" he asked, squeezing Colin's hands.

God, so many emotions crossed Colin's face, Lex couldn't keep track. The boy dropped his head down again, and he was so very still. Like a rabbit being hounded, Lex thought. 'If I don't move, he won't find me' is what that posture meant. But Lex wasn't giving up.

"Wha-- He's doing that?! But. . . but, why didn't you tell anyone, Colin? Why didn't you tell me? I can't-- I don't know what to do. What if he-- how long, Colin? Why wouldn't you say something? Lex would've done somethi-- I would have done-- he can't just do that! He can't. . . he can't get away with something like that! You're my brother! He's our DAD!"

Lian was shouting and crying as he said all this, and Lex knew exactly how he felt. He wanted to shout too, and cry. Lex wanted to shake Colin, and ask him why he'd let Lionel do that. He wanted to go downstairs right now to his father's office and rip the man's balls off and make him eat them.

But he did none of those things. He held Colin's hands and said, "Lian," in a tone of voice that brought his youngest brother out of his raging. Suddenly all was silent, save the crackling of the fire.

"Colin, I want you to pack a bag," Lex said sternly, "and, Lian, you too. I'm taking you both to a hotel, and we're going to figure out what we're going to do, and I will make it so he'll never be able to touch either of you again. Fatherly or otherwise."

He squeezed Colin's hands again, which brought the boy's face up. He just looked. . . shocked. . . and ashamed. "It's not your fault," Lex told him, and let all his certainty show on his face. "It's not your fault," he repeated. "I'm so very sorry this happened." Lex lowered his own head now, staring at his hands cradling Colin's. "I just-- I let you go, and I don't even know why. I thought-- I somehow thought you'd picked him over me, and I was. . . jealous." Lex risked a look at Colin and found the regret and shame he felt still mirrored on his brother's face. "I can do right by you, Colin, and it starts now." He rose from the sofa, pulling Colin up with him. "Lian, go get your stuff." Lex turned his head, saw Julian simply leaving the room, no questions asked, and released Colin's hands so he could pack his own belongings.

Colin just stood right where Lex had left him, tracking his progress with his eyes as Lex packed. It didn't take that long. He'd only been home for a few days, after all. Picking up his bag and pulling the strap diagonally across his body, Lex reached down again to grasp Colin's hand as he led his brother across the hall to his room.

"Do you want me to pack you something, or do you want to do it yourself?" Lex asked him softly. Colin turned to look around the room and just shrugged.

"I don't-- " he started, but paused uncertainly. "I don't need anything, really." He suddenly looked at Lex, alarmed. "Where are my sketch books? I don't remember bringing them down."

"They're in my bag," Lex assured him, patting said luggage. "Lian grabbed them off the roof, and I made sure I packed them. I'll just grab some clothes, okay? We can always get something later if we need it."

He went to the closet on the other side of the room and pulled down a big black bag. Then walking back to Colin's dresser, he began filling it with the clothes inside. T-shirts, jeans, sweaters, socks, undershirts, all went into the bag. Only one thing was missing: underwear. Lex pulled out every drawer, but he couldn't find underwear of any kind anywhere.

"I don't have any," Colin said from where he was standing near the door. "He doesn't like me to wear them."

Lex shuddered and bit his lip, but nodded, closing up all the drawers again. He turned and handed Colin the bag, watching as he pulled it over his shoulder. Lex made to leave the room, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Just a second," Colin said going over to the bed and dropping to his knees on the floor. He reached under and pulled out a small wooden case about the size of a laptop. Picking it up and holding it under his arm like a book, Colin climbed back to his feet and returned to Lex's side. "Keepsakes," he said in response to Lex's questioning look. Lex nodded and they left the room, Colin pulling the door shut on his way out.

Lian was waiting for them in the hall, and Lex took the lead as they went down the stairs.

But Lionel wasn't there to see them leave. Neither was Guillame, the butler, nor any of the help. Evidently, they had picked the right time to escape, and Lex was just glad he had a four-seater car. He didn't want to have to take one of Lionel's, and calling a cab was out, if they wanted to remain unnoticed.

As he held the door open for his brothers to pass through, Lex was reminded of the anger and frustration he'd felt when entering this house only a few days ago. Sure, he still felt that way, but for completely different reasons, and towards completely different people. How things could change in the blink of an eye and usually, at least in Lex's experience, always for the worse.

***

When he'd been little, Lex had dreamed of flying. Where others would think of the act as a release joyously found, Lex had woken up night after night trembling, covered in sweat and unable to breathe. Then came the day all his fears came true. He'd gone with his father to a business dealing. . . and had had to ride in a helicopter to get there. God, he'd been petrified, and Lionel had been just as callous as ever. Nothing good happened that day. He'd forever lost his hair and any hint of his father's love. After that, Lex hadn't dreamed of flying anymore; he'd dreamed of being on fire. His unconscious brought visions of himself being burnt to a crisp, his clothing and hair going up like a torch, his lungs filling with smoke, his skin peeling away, his veins and organs explod--

Lex woke up covered in sweat. Gasping and looking around frantically, his memory of the day's events came back to him quickly and he remembered he was in the hotel room. Concentrating on slowing his breathing, he looked for his brothers' shadowy forms in the other bed. Lian's was easily visible. The boy had kicked off the sheet and his left arm and leg were hanging off the side of the bed. Now that he'd regained some measure of composure, Lex quietly got out of his own bed and crossed over to put Lian fully back onto his. As he gently rolled his brother more towards the center, his eyes fell onto the empty spot beside Lian. Colin had been there earlier. Lex had kept a look out on them, making sure he waited until they were both asleep before allowing himself to drift off.

He went in search of Colin, and eventually found him sitting on the window ledge in the adjacent sitting room. Both legs pressed close to his chest, arms wrapped around them, Colin was staring out the window. Lex was struck with the countless memories of finding Bruce in a similar position. God, he missed that man. Bruce had disappeared years ago, no word of farewell. No one knew where he'd gone, not even Alfred, his surrogate father-figure. Most people, especially the media, thought him dead, death by billionaire mishap, but Lex knew how stubborn and resourceful Bruce was. He was sure the man just didn't want to be found, which hurt. . . a lot. He'd thought they were able to understand each other, the only two who really could in their circle, but evidently Bruce hadn't felt the same way.

He now realized how alike Bruce and Colin were. Both were such solitary creatures, never comfortable around people, even those closest to them. Neither of them were particularly chatty, either. Though Bruce could charm the pants off anyone when he put his mind to it, Colin just took to standing in corners and staring off into space at parties.

And neither of them shared their secrets. Lex had roomed with Bruce for years in boarding school, and then they'd had that house at Princeton. But no matter how intimate they were, there was always a part of Bruce kept separate, a core Lex was never allowed to see. He was no fool, though. He knew scary things lived inside Bruce, dark, ugly, hurting secrets the man constantly hid in some misguided attempt at protecting Lex. So he'd never forced the issue. He'd let Bruce brood and never asked him why, or what, or any of the important questions. He'd let Bruce slip away, just stood by and let him run.

He'd be damned if he let Colin do the same.

"Colin," he called softly, as he walked over to the window "why aren't you in bed?"

"Did you see what time it was?" Colin asked him, not turning away from the night outside. It was a clear sky, but still no stars were visible due to the pollution of the city. That was one thing Lex remembered Colin had always been so upset about: the lack of stars in the night skies above Metropolis.

"It's after three," Lex told him. "Shouldn't you at least try to sleep? Maybe if you lie down, you'll-- " Lex stopped talking as suddenly a thought occurred to him. The two times he'd seen Colin going to their. . . father's bedroom, it'd been about this time of night. And Lex had the sick feeling that perhaps Colin couldn't sleep now because it was habit for him to be awake at three in the morning.

"It's all right," Colin said, softly breaking the silence that followed Lex's abrupt cutting off. "You don't have to say anything. I'm just going to sit here. You can go back to sleep."

"No," Lex said firmly. "I'll sit with you." He pulled over a chair, dropping into it and propping his legs up on the window seat. "If that's okay?" He should've asked first. Maybe Colin didn't want anyone near him right now.

But Colin just shrugged and continued looking out the window, and Lex was again struck by how much he'd grown up.

"Do you still have that drawing I gave you for Christmas that one year?"

Lex stopped berating himself at Colin's question. He lifted his head up, and saw his brother looking back at him, trying to appear casual and disinterested.

"Which one?" Lex asked, gently teasing. "You always used to give me drawings. I could publish a book with the number of them I have in my possession." '

"The first one. The very first drawing I gave anyone," he said with a sad look. "The one of you and Mom."

And now he knew exactly which drawing Colin meant. It was the one Lex never looked at. He'd had it framed and then wrapped, and he always kept it in the bedroom of wherever he was living at the time. But he never looked at it. The portrait of himself smiling in his mother's embrace was something Lex couldn't bring himself to unwrap. He just couldn't take seeing her as she'd been, to look at her holding a younger version of himself and then eventually be forced to look away. Once unwrapped, that picture would be Lex's own Pandora's Box. All his anger and pain and hurt and despair would just come rushing out of him, and he was afraid he'd never be able to climb back out of that dark abyss. So it stayed wrapped, and hidden, but always close by. He'd be just as distraught if anything happened to it, as he would if he ever hung it on the wall.

"Yes," Lex answered, looking Colin in the eye. "It's back in Boston. I had it framed. . . years ago. I've always kept it close, Colin." As he said that, Colin dropped his gaze and Lex saw him take a deep breath as if he were. . . trying not to cry. "That portrait means so much to me. I was so happy when you gave it to me." He leaned his chair back, so only the back two legs were touching the floor and smiled in memory. "God, you were only, what? Four when you did that?" Lex shook his head in wonderment. "Amazing. You were so talented, even then. I can't believe Da-- " He cut himself off abruptly, but it was already too late. Colin looked up, and shame and regret were written all over his face. Lex leaned forward, his chair falling back down to all four legs once more. He rested his arms on his legs and brought his hands together in front of him. Then, catching and holding eye-contact, he asked boldly, "When did it start, Colin? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You couldn't have done anything." Colin replied. "And you were away, and then when you came back Bruce was always with you, and I-- I just didn't-- " Here he faltered. His eyes dropped to his lap, whereupon he took a deep breath and finished in a rush. "I didn't want you to be ashamed of me. I didn't know what to do, Lex!" Lex had to force himself to keep his head up and focused on Colin. He widened his eyes and ceased blinking, in the hopes of preventing the tears in his own eyes from falling. Colin brought his head up, but stared at the wall across the room with unfocused and far away eyes, refusing or unable to meet Lex's gaze. "And after awhile," he continued, voice eerily calm and steady, "it. . . was just easier to-- to simply go along with it. You don't-- he was going to. . . in the office that day, he was supposed to tell you-- " He gestured with his hands, as though trying to wave up the words he was looking for.

"What was he supposed to tell me?" Lex asked, trying to help him. "Lian and me," he corrected himself. "What was he planning on telling us that was so secret? And why'd you leave?" Lex remembered being so confused by Colin's reaction that day in Lionel's study.

"He was going to tell you the truth. . . about me." After saying this, Colin looked so scared and beseeching, Lex had a hard time not reaching out to comfort him. He stopped himself at the last second, not wanting to freak his brother out any more than the kid already was. "Lex," Colin started again, "you don't know. I'm not normal. I'm not like you and Lian. That's why he kept me home-- "

"What do you mean you're 'not normal?'" Lex interrupted, heatedly. "Colin, just because he did things to you does not mean you're not normal. He's the one's who's not normal, not you." At this point, Lex couldn't help it as he reached out and laid his left hand on top of Colin's leg. He didn't even truly realize he'd done it until Colin quickly jerked his leg away and scrunched up even further. Feeling guilty, and for some reason he couldn't quite think about, offended, Lex then sat up in his chair and put as much space between Colin and himself as he could manage while still staying seated.

"Colin," Lex started, but dropped off helplessly. He picked at the seat cushion, eyes focusing on the pale whiteness of his hands in the dimly lit room. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do to make this better. He was only 21. When had he ever even thought of shit like this happening? Now here he was, holed up in a hotel across town from his pedophiliac father, with his two younger brothers depending on him. Lex didn't have the resources Lionel did. He didn't have the knowledge from experience or the many contacts that his father possessed, either. Lex barely had any friends. How was he supposed to oppose his father, stand up to him. . . and win?

He sighed and finally looked back up. Colin's body was limned in silver and dark gold, moonlight and streetlight. His brother had always looked so. . . otherworldly. Not only looked, but seemed so, too. With his immense talent and quiet manner, Colin was a mystery. And Lex loved mysteries, could never resist a puzzle. If Oedipus Rex's downfall were his hubris, then Lex feared his own to be curiosity. Julian was relatively simple to figure out, but getting information from Colin had always been, to use a cliche, very much like getting blood from a stone.

"I know that what I say now can never undo what happened," Lex began. "But I swear to you, Colin, he will never touch you again. I swear." And, God, did he hope he could keep that pledge. He would die for Colin right now, if it meant Lionel could never get near either of his brothers again.

"Lex," Colin said, looking out the window, "some things-- some things just happen, and there's nothing you or anybody else can do to stop them." He turned his head then, and Lex found two hard green eyes zeroing in on him, leaving him breathless. "And some things have to die. There are things in this world that can't be allowed, and someone has to make sure those things don't destroy innocent people. Don't make promises you won't be able to keep, Lex."

***

He'd decided to withdraw from his classes for the semester. Fortunately, the Dean had always been on Lex's side and somehow managed to wrangle him a special hold on classes. He would be allowed to come back next semester and essentially pick up where he'd left off. Basically, the man liked parading him around at parties in order to drum up larger contributions from alumni, and in return Lex was allowed a little more leeway than the average student. This was going a little further than that, but he wasn't about to look too deeply into it, especially not now.

While he was glad he'd been given such an incredible break at Harvard, the whole reason it'd been necessary loomed over him. Classes were such a minor thing in relation to their. . . family problems.

It was a Monday. Lex hated Mondays as it was, but today was even more depressing than usual. He'd researched a bit online yesterday, looking for a great lawyer not on his father's payroll, and one not likely to be easily bought in the future, and had found a hopeful candidate in one Richard Jameson. The man had a respectable firm downtown focused on family law, and abuse cases in particular. Jameson himself was a well-known proponent of animal and environmental rights and had been quoted in The Planet several times as basically calling Lionel Luthor the Devil, and laying almost all of humanity's problems at his doorstep. In this case, the enemy of Lex's enemy was, if not exactly a friend per se, a definite consideration for representation in the suit he planned on filing against Lionel. He was pretty sure though that even if Jameson did decline their case, they'd at least gain somewhat of an ally. After all, this was the lawyer's chance to pat himself on the back and say 'I told you so' to all those people who for years had been calling him a loony. Maybe Lex'd get a few referrals out of the deal too.

Lex had convinced Julian to stay home from school today. If he'd gone, Lex knew Lionel would have had someone just pick the kid up, and that would be the end of it. And Colin. . . well, Colin didn't go to school, and he'd wisely been trying to distract Lian all morning, so that Lex could attempt to figure out what the hell they were going to do. He'd kidnapped his brothers, an eight-year-old and fifteen-year-old, and was now essentially holding them captive in a hotel room. Of course, Lionel would never go to the authorities, not with what Lex and Lian would tell them, so maybe it wasn't quite as hopeless a situation as Lex was painting it.

He'd have to leave soon for his appointment with Jameson, and leave Colin and Lian alone. Jesus, it was up in the air as to which one would take over in Lex's absence. Most likely, Julian would step up and lay down the law. He seemed almost as disgusted as Lex by what their father had done. . . and Lian had always been the optimist when it came to their father. The boy had never seemed to lose hope that one day Lionel would turn into Ward Cleaver, and they'd all live happily together in the burbs. Well, he certainly didn't hope for that anymore. Lex had overheard his youngest brother telling Colin over this morning's breakfast that he "didn't have to wear that man's necklace any longer." 'That man' was how he'd referred to his own father, and Lex was at least partly glad Julian could finally acknowledge how horrible a man their father actually was.

Though he was sad to see Lian have to grow up so soon. He was even younger than Lex had been when he'd realized how cold Lionel really was, in those days following the meteor shower. And Lex didn't even want to think about how Colin had come to know their father's evil, or how young the kid had been when it'd happened. Too young, no doubt, too heartbreakingly young and innocent for something like that to happen to him.

They were all seven kinds of fucked up, and Lex wasn't sure any of this, the lawsuit, changing their surroundings, getting them away from Lionel, would actually make it any better. But then, Lex had always been a pragmatist, if not a downright pessimist. It was as Colin had said. "Some things have to die. There are things in this world that can't be allowed, and someone has to make sure those things don't destroy innocent people." And while Lex didn't want his father dead, necessarily, he did want those things which he did to stop. Maybe he'd just be exiled to a nice deserted island, somewhere his father could just stay for the rest of his miserable life, where no internet or phone line or mail courier would ever bother him again. That would do just fine for the sick old bastard.

Finishing the now cold coffee in his hand, Lex turned away from the Metropolis skyline and picked up the tie he'd draped over the back of the sofa earlier. As he began by rote to tie a four-in-hand knot, he made his way back towards the bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, he saw Colin reach out to Lian and get his attention, pointing to Lex. Both heads focused on him, and he walked closer, sitting down on the chair near their bed.

He looked at Lian and said, "You're going to be alone here, you know. So if anything happens, or you need me, just call my cell and I'll get back as soon as I can. I'm going to meet Jameson now, and hopefully put things into motion. You're-- " He broke off and dropped his eyes to his hands, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to without upsetting either of them. Taking a breath and looking up at Colin, Lex tried again. "You're sure about this?" he asked him. Not that he would actually let him back down, but it might make Colin feel a little more in control if Lex asked.

Colin looked down at the sketch pad in front of him and nodded. His eyes turning back to Julian as he rose from the chair, Lex jerked his head towards Colin and tried his best to communicate 'watch him' using only his eyebrows and mouth. He must have succeeded in getting something across, too, because Julian nodded back and his face grew determined. Lex gave him a small smile in return, then left the room, grabbing his suit jacket and keys on the way out the door.

***

Richard Jameson was an extremely tall middle-aged man, with graying hair and a body that looked as though it belonged to a man half his age. . . at least from what Lex could tell. He moved quickly enough. Jameson hadn't stopped pacing the entire time Lex had been there, and it was really starting to get on his nerves.

"So, let me get this straight," Jameson said, pausing over by the window. "Your father," at this point he stopped and chuckled. "God, I don't think I'll ever get used to calling him that." Jameson turned and began pacing towards Lex now. "Your father has been abusing your adoptive brother, and you don't know for how long." He stopped and stood looking down on Lex. Uncharitably, Lex thought it was probably both literally and figuratively. "And your other brother? The younger one-- ?"

"Julian," Lex filled in.

"Yes, Julian," Jameson said, holding his right index finger up in a triumphant jab. "Can he confirm this? Did he see anything. . . blatantly abusive?" He finished by tucking his hands behind his back and rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. . . still hovering directly over Lex.

"He didn't see them having sex, if that's what you're suggesting, Mr. Jameson," Lex replied coldly. If the man simply wanted to gloat then Lex wasn't going to just sit here and take it. Especially if it were at, not only his own, but primarily, Colin's expense.

But Richard Jameson must have had a heart after all, for he quickly moved behind his desk and sat down heavily in the creaking leather chair. Laying his hands flat on the dark wood top, palms down, the lawyer leaned forward and seemed to earnestly address Lex.

"I apologize, Mr. Luthor," Jameson said, and Lex thought it most likely genuine. "I never meant to imply that I was. . . hmm, somehow reveling in your situation. I want to know what you know, what your brother Julian knows, and hopefully, when he's ready, I will need to know what Colin knows about your father." Jameson sat back in the chair, which squealed alarmingly. God, the thing looked to be at least as old as Lex himself.

Looking at Lex contemplatively, he began, "I know for a fact you are not a stupid young man, no matter how determined the media seems to be to convince me otherwise. No matter what trouble and excess you've previously gotten into, it's my opinion that you genuinely care for your family. And whether that includes your father. . . ?" At this point, Jameson moved his hands out to the sides in a sort of 'it's not up to me' gesture. "Truthfully, and I am perfectly aware that you know this, but I'm going to say it anyway, I despise your father. I have had the misfortune of meeting him, and having to suffer through his company, on several occasions over the years. And each time, I was struck by the sheer apathy he displayed towards his fellow human being. It had occurred to me that that might extend into his home life as well, and I am sorry to see I was right."

Hands now steepled in front of him, and rocking back and forth in that damned squeaking chair of his, Jameson was looking at Lex in an assessing manner, as though wondering whether or not to continue his speech. Evidently deciding yes, the man said, "You came to me." He stopped, and Lex realized he was being asked a question and simply nodded his head. "And you did so deliberately. You know my history with Lionel, and I'd wager you sought me out thinking I'd never be able to resist sticking it to the man, especially in the courtroom, especially with something like this. . . something he'll never be able to get past once it becomes public." Taking his eyes off Lex and turning them towards the fifth story window, Richard Jameson sat there for a moment before nodding to himself. He leaned forward, and looked at Lex. . . sadly.

"This will not be pretty, Lex," Jameson said softly. And Lex knew then that he'd made the right choice. He'd gambled on this man and beaten the house. Hopefully the same would happen in real life, too.

"I am going to take your case, your brothers' case," Jameson continued. "And I am going to do it personally, with a little assistance of course." He smiled briefly. "But this will be ugly, and cutthroat, and you have to be aware that, considering who your father is. . . and who he is in this town. . . there's a good chance we won't be able to win."

Jameson stood up and resumed his pacing once more, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, across the length of his office. "Our best bet, and I know what you're going to say but just think on it a bit. Our best bet is to go to the media and get the public behind you." Lex was about to interrupt, but Jameson again stopped in front of him and put his hand out. "If you do that, there's a better chance that the court of public opinion could turn the tide. And I'll do my damnedest to make sure you get a judge who's not bought off, though that will definitely be tricky." Nodding to himself, the man moved towards the window, then turned on his heel and stalked back towards the door. Back towards the window, heel down and turning around to--

"Could you please stop pacing?" Lex asked, exasperated. "I can't think when other people do that," he added, in the hopes he wouldn't offend the man too much. But evidently Jameson wasn't offended at all, for he simply moved over to sit in the chair beside Lex's own. Puzzled and wondering if this was some ploy to get him off guard, Lex shifted and turned to look the other man in the eye.

"He doesn't go to any school, does he?" At Lex's confused look, Jameson added impatiently, "Colin, your brother? I remember something in the paper a few years back, but that isn't exactly a reliable source by any means. So. . . does Colin attend school?"

"No," Lex answered, and then thought better of being so terse. "Well, he briefly attended Excelsior here in the city earlier this term, but he was taken out last week. By my father. Some of his fellow students performed some sort of hazing on him, and. . . " Lex trailed off, not knowing exactly how to finish that sentence.

"Ah, I see. And before this year? Was he home-schooled? Somehow I can't picutre Lionel Luthor teaching him arithmetic."

"No, Colin's always had tutors who come to the house a few times a week. And then there are his stays at the Centre." Now it was Jameson's turn to look puzzled, and so Lex attempted to clarify. "My father's development. It's a research facility, and also houses some of his more priceless collections: ancient artifacts, extremely rare books and artwork. It's essentially a sub-division of Luthorcorp." Well, Lex thought that was a pretty clear explanation, but the other man still had a confused expression on his face. Okay, more information. Can do.

"Colin goes there every week, I believe, and has for as long as he's been with us. I've been there a few times myself, as has Julian, but as both of us were educated outside the house, Colin's understandably been there more often."

The lawyer next to him furrowed his brow and again steepled his fingers. "Hmm."

Yeah, okay. That was illuminating.

"What?" Lex asked. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

"How old was Colin when he was adopted into your family?" Jameson asked, brow still furrowed.

"About four, I think. I was never really sure of the circumstances surrounding his birth, or the adoption itself for that matter, but as I recall, neither were my parents. We just chose a day on which to celebrate his birthday, and have done that for as long as he's been with us." Lex was beginning to think Jameson was reaching some conclusion he wasn't seeing, and decided to just ask outright. "Mr. Jameson, pardon me, but what does this have to do with. . . the case? I'm afraid I don't see the connection."

"That's because you're not thinking like your father," Jameson replied, lowering his hands and leaning forward to rest his forearms on his legs. He looked Lex right in the eye, and asked somewhat ominously, "Haven't you ever wondered why both you and Julian, the natural sons of Lionel and Lillian Luthor, were enrolled in various well to-do academies and schools, and rarely allowed into 'the Centre,'" Jameson used finger quotes for the last part, ". . . while your adopted brother, whose past is completely unknown, was never allowed to attend a traditional school, and apparently also spent a great deal of time at a research facility created by your father?"

He felt cold seep into his bones at the next quietly asked question.

"Lex, what possible reason does a man have to essentially hold an abandoned child hostage in a research facility for more than 12 years. . . if he's not doing something terrible?"

***

Interrupt

Bruce had never really been one for small talk, and was infinitely glad Lex felt the same. Usually, Bruce didn't. . . enjoy company. Excluding Alfred, he hadn't really interacted with anyone since-- since before. Sometimes Rachel would try, but he'd guess that after so many rebuffs she'd just finally decided to give up on him. She and her mother still sent birthday and Christmas cards, though. Alfred insisted on making a big deal out of each day, displaying the cards in the kitchen and asking Bruce what he wanted for that day's 'special meal.' Sometimes Bruce would say, "Nothing, Alfred," just so he'd see that sad look on Alfred's so-kind face.

Sometimes it hurt too much to think he was all alone, so he'd say what he really wanted to say, do what he really wanted to do (just look at the night and think of them, think of what they could have done if only they'd stayed) and every time, Alfred would try and make it better. He'd remind him that he missed them, too, that even if Alfred couldn't truly understand him, Bruce wasn't really alone. As long as Alfred was there, things could be. . . okay.

And so school had been. . . difficult. Alfred wasn't there. And the others looked at him weird. Those boys whispered about him, and Bruce didn't really care all that much, but he thought he should. So he tried to be friendly, like he remembered being before, and he tried to make them want to be around him, but it didn't work. That just seemed to make them even cagier.

By the time he was 13, Bruce had reconciled himself to the fact, and had attempted to get Alfred to understand, that he would just be 'that spooky Wayne kid' and there wasn't really any point in trying. But the Spring semester of that year was when he was forced to room with another boy for the first time. There were a lot of boys in his year at the academy, and evidently they'd run out of other housing alternatives.

That was when Bruce had met Lex Luthor.

Lex sometimes looked how Bruce felt, vulnerable and ashamed and alone, and so he attempted to. . . make a friend one last time. At first it didn't work, but after a few weeks Lex seemed to come around. Bruce suspected the other boy latched onto him partly for protection, he'd been so small back then, but mostly because he too seemed out of step with the others. Sometimes it was Bruce who took charge, but mostly he followed Lex's lead. And Lex seemed really grateful for Bruce's attention, which made him a little suspicious of his new friend's family and home-life. But Lex never asked him those difficult questions, those questions the other boys always whispered among themselves when he walked by, so Bruce didn't ask his, either.

When Lex and Bruce were 16, they spent the Winter Break at Lex's house. Bruce didn't think he'd ever forget that time. Here he'd thought he was kinda messed up, but seeing how Lex's family acted. . . There was something wrong with the Luthors. Bruce tried to figure them out, but could never quite get to the end of the puzzle. Pieces were missing.

Like, why Lex's brother Colin acted so weird, and this was Bruce thinking that. Colin was even more out of place than Lex and Bruce put together, and seemed to know it, too. He never went anywhere without a sketch book. He slept even less than Bruce, and Bruce only slept a couple hours on a good night, and sometimes not at all. And Colin was so. . . sunk in. He was always so silent, and almost not there at times, like all that made Colin Colin had just disappeared. Vanished, gone away, been hidden deep down inside, where not even Colin could see it anymore.

Sometimes when Bruce looked at Colin, he got the feeling he wasn't even there, like whatever made him human had been taken away. Sometimes Bruce thought Colin wasn't even human.

And then there was Lex's father. Lionel was intimidating, and that was putting it mildly. The man had dead eyes; Bruce recognized them. And perhaps part of that was due to the death of Lex's mother, but there was a cold fire in Lionel's eyes too, a hatred. Sometimes-- sometimes when Lionel looked at Colin that hatred would seep into his face, his mouth, his body language and voice, and that was when Bruce really felt. . . off. Something was wrong with Lionel Luthor, and it had to do with Colin, and he. . . truthfully, he didn't really want to figure it out. That was a secret he didn't need.

Lex didn't seem to quite get what was going on in his family, and though he tried to stay out of it, quite often Bruce ended up pushing Lex in the right direction. Lex had a family and Bruce didn't want him to lose it, no matter how willfully blind he pretended to be. Bruce just couldn't understand that. If he still had a family, Bruce would do everything, anything, to keep them safe. All of them. But at best, Lex was indifferent towards Colin, and at worst, antagonistic. The opposite was true of his relationship with Julian. He doted on the kid, pure and simple. Colin was adopted, Bruce knew. That would have been obvious just by looking at them, and maybe that was part of it. Maybe Lex didn't think Colin really belonged. If anything though, Lex seemed to resent Colin. Finally Bruce just decided people were strange, and Lex was very strange.

He didn't really intend to be so distant. Sometimes it bothered Bruce how separate he felt. And while he did identify with Lex often, and occasionally Alfred, it must have spoken to how warped and fucked up he was that the person whom he understood the best, the one person whose darkness, pain, shame and terrible guilt most closely resembled Bruce's own was Colin Luthor. Lex's brother had dead eyes, too, but where Lionel's sometimes sparked and pulsed, Colin's were blank and bare. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then Bruce's spirit had long been abandoned, left to lie on the cold cement of that Gotham alley. If the eyes were windows to the soul. . . then Colin Luthor's soul was almost dead, all that was left of a young boy repeatedly raped by his own father.

***

Lex stopped at a coffee joint on his way back to the hotel. Thinking of a cafe latte for himself, he attempted to figure out what Julian and Colin might like. Hot chocolate never failed, right? Something with mint? Truthfully, though, his mind was still back in Richard Jameson's office, thinking about the Centre and Colin.

This morning, something Colin had said last night had come back to him. Claiming he wasn't normal, Colin had sounded how Lex imagined an abused child would, but perhaps there was something else there? What was it that Lionel had planned on telling them that day in the library? Colin had spoken of it as if it were terribly significant. What had his father been doing at that Centre? With Colin, no less. As if it weren't bad enough he'd been. . . doing that to him. . . had Lionel been experimenting on the kid, too? Was Colin some sort of guinea pig, or lab rat?

Jerking into awareness, he realized he'd reached the front of the line. Finally just deciding to order three hot chocolates, Lex attempted to ignore the double takes and stares coming his way from around the shop. He was buying hot chocolate, for chrissake! What was so exciting about that? Though in truth, he'd almost come to expect it. He hadn't really been in Metropolis for a few years, at least as far as the media was concerned, and people were always curious about the 'bald freak,' as The Inquisitor had once referred to him.

He waited for the drinks with head up and hands in pockets. Just imagine how they'll react when they find out, Lex thought, realizing he was already planning to follow Jameson's lead. It'd humiliate Lionel.

And Colin.

"Here you are, sir," the female barista said, putting the three drinks in a carry-caddie for him. She looked up and was studying him closely, so Lex stuck a ten in the tip jar next to her and turned to leave. As he neared the door, the last man in the line pushed open the door for him and smiled.

"Thanks," Lex told him, as he waited for an incoming customer to pass by before starting through.

"Hey, no problem Mr. Luthor," the man replied, still smiling.

Sir? Mr. Luthor? Lex had never thought of himself as a 'Mr. anything.' It was cliche, but Mr. Luthor would always be Lionel. When the guy had called him that, Lex had almost looked around expecting to see his father and security goons behind him.

Lex walked to his car, carefully balancing the drinks as he hit the unlock button. After he'd settled both himself and the hot chocolates inside, he reversed and swerved out of the parking spot, turning left onto Vine St. and reaching the intersection just as the light turned green. Being the only car in the right turn lane, Lex didn't bother slowing down as he roared through.

Driving was fun, but for Lex, driving fast was better than any high he'd ever had. The feeling of all that horsepower at his command, designed for the express purpose of bending to his will, was simply intoxicating. And Lex loved turns. He always tried to accelerate through them, loving the feeling of the car's resistance. He didn't bother to check for other vehicles as he hit the gas, trusting the lights had done their job and stopped all other cross-traffic.

One moment, Lex was sitting in the driver's seat of his Acura, Converge playing on the stereo. . .

. . . and then suddenly he became aware of someone calling his name through the passenger side window. The window was broken. What-- why was he. . . stopped. The car was still. And his head! Jesus Christ, what was wrong with his--

"Mr. Luthor, just stay still, okay?" the voice from his right was saying. "Someone's called, and an ambulance is on its way. We didn't want to move you, in case your neck or back were-- " The voice kept going, but Lex couldn't keep a hold of it any longer. His head must have hit. . . the window. His window. And his car wasn't-- his car had been hit. He'd been in an accident. A car accident. And he couldn't think. . . clearly because he'd. . . hit his head. What was that called? A. . .

"Mr. Luthor!" the voice screeched at him. The door was open. . . the passenger's door, and it was the guy from the coffee shop. The one who'd smiled at him and called him 'Mister.'

"You have to stay awake, Mr. Luthor," the man said, trying to maintain eye contact. "You were hit by another car and you've probably got a concussion. You have to stay awake."

"You already said that," Lex tried to say, but his voice came out. . . strangely. "Where's the-- Is the other car. . . okay? The people in the other car? Are they hurt?"

Lex was still trying to focus on the man near him, so he caught the angry expression that crossed his face briefly before being replaced by a gentler version of pissed off.

"There is no other car," the man said tersely. "It drove off after it hit you. Some kind of SUV-Hummer thing. Just-- it just took off after putting you into the median. Sir." He stopped suddenly, as though he'd overstepped his bounds or said too much.

A hit-and-run? But. . .

"But everyone is okay?" Lex asked.

The guy gave him a strange look as he replied. "Yes, Mr. Luthor. No one else was hurt. We heard the crash from inside the cafe, and the woman next to me called 911. The paramedics should be here soon, and we'll tell the police what happened, don't you worry."

"Thank you," Lex said as sincerely as he could, with his head as messed up as it was.

"No-- no problem, Mr. Luthor."

Lex felt a smile tug at his mouth, as he repeated, "You already said that." Evidently, his new 'friend' remembered their brief exchange in the coffee shop too, for a small smile graced his face.

A thought came to Lex and he took the chance and asked, "Did anyone get the plate number from the other vehicle? I don't-- I didn't even see it. It just came out of nowhere. . . " Lex slowly trailed off, thinking he must sound like every crash victim the world over.

"I don't know," the man answered, crouching down on the ground, just outside the car. "You're not at all how the papers make you out to be. Wait. What I mean is," the guy started stuttering, so Lex interrupted.

"Lex," he said. Getting nothing but a confused look, he clarified. "Please call me Lex. Whenever someone says 'Mr. Luthor,' I think my father's suddenly ascended from Hell, and is standing behind me."

The guy gave a loud startled laugh, a sharp 'HA!' then shut his mouth and looked a bit guilty. Lex just smiled.

"My name is Chance," the guy said. "Chance Aerson." He smiled again. "Pleased to meet you, Lex, though I don't think I'm the only one to wish it'd happened under different circumstances."

"No," Lex replied. "I don't suppose you are."

***

Lex understood his place in the social hierarchy of Excelsior. He was the geek, the weird bald kid, and he was pretty much left alone after the first few weeks. Eventually he learned that Bruce had started throwing his weight around at that point, all but threatening those who'd still had designs on hurting or humiliating him.

He tried to thank his new roommate and friend, but Bruce consistently denied he'd had anything to do with it. He'd simply shrug and say, "I don't talk to them, Lex. They don't like me, either; why would they listen to anything I said?" But Lex knew the truth. Bruce was a good actor, and modest. He'd saved Lex, and he hadn't gloated or asked for favors or anything in return. Bruce never asked for anything.

As the years passed, Lex grew accustomed to the silence of their friendship. In a way it was soothing, comfortable, and nothing like the silences at home. There were no hidden agendas with Bruce, no games or tests. All Bruce really wanted was someone who didn't judge, someone who wouldn't push him or expect too much, and Lex could give him that. In return, Bruce didn't judge him, or make him feel responsible for his father's actions. He also seemed not to care about Lex's lack of hair and hopefully didn't know that, even if it were faked, that was probably what meant the most. For in truth, Lex had had a crush on Bruce almost since the day they'd met.

Bruce was handsome. Everyone knew that, but it wasn't what drew Lex to the other boy. It was the fact that Bruce was so. . . there, had such a physical resonance that made Lex admire him and want to be closer. The air in the room vibrated when Bruce was present. Just by sitting at his desk and reading, he made Lex forget about everything not Bruce.

By the time they'd reached their second to last year at Excelsior, Lex had accepted the fact that nothing would happen between them. Bruce had never dated anyone, girl or boy, that Lex knew of. So he didn't know for certain, but he assumed his friend was straight and therefore uninterested. Which was fine. And typical. Actually, Bruce seemed almost asexual. The two of them never talked about that kind of thing, as it definitely made Lex uncomfortable, considering, and Bruce had always in turn ignored or mocked the boys in the locker room who carried on and on about their supposedly numerous conquests of the fairer sex.

Which is why it was a shock when, the day before his 16th birthday, Bruce asked if he could kiss Lex. . . on the lips.

They were in the library, sitting by the east windows in the Theology section, which they'd learned was always empty. Lex was seated at the table with his books spread out, and Bruce was staring out the window as usual. In fact, when Bruce asked, he was still facing the window. It took Lex a moment to understand he was being asked, and by then he'd become fully tongue-tied, staring at the back of Bruce's head in some vain hope that if he just looked hard enough he'd be able to see what was going on in his friend's brain.

"Lex?" Bruce asked, as he finally turned around to face him. "Aren't you going to say something? I believe a 'yes' or 'no' is appropriate."

Damn him. This might be the only opportunity he had, and Lex was ruining it by imitating a largemouth bass.

"Um, what?!" And, God, his voice had not just broken like he was 14! "Why would you want to do that? Is this some kind of joke, because it's not funny." There. That was better, even if he did succeed in sounding like an asshole and a girl.

"No, it's no joke," Bruce replied, confusedly. "I just wanted to know. If not, that's okay, too."

The boy was certifiably insane. . . and so heartbreakingly perfect, Lex wanted to scream. Well, kiss him and then scream, as screaming first might scare him away.

"Here? You're asking me if you can kiss me here in the library?"

"On the lips," Bruce reminded him, like that cleared everything up.

"Yeah, on the lips. Got that part." Lex put his pencil down and sighed, reminding himself that Bruce didn't really joke. . . or lie, at least not to Lex. So if he were asking, then logically it followed that he was serious and actually wanted to. . .

"Yes," Lex said, and made sure he was looking Bruce straight in the eye. "I'd-- I'd like that, Bruce." All in.

And before he knew it, Bruce was leaning down, hand on his cheek, and his lips were oh-so-gently pressing against Lex's. It was sweet and chaste, and nothing like what Lex wanted. So he took control and pressed forward, opening his mouth and biting at Bruce's bottom lip.

Bruce's breath came out in a gasp, and Lex felt the other boy's hand slip back to cup his head. Feeling brave and mature, he slipped his tongue into Bruce's mouth, proud of himself when he heard the resulting groan. But the angle was wrong and, as he'd had to stretch up to meet Bruce who was still standing above him, Lex felt his back start to ache. He broke off the kiss, and it felt as if he floated back down to his seat.

Opening his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- Lex saw Bruce wearing an expression he'd never before seen on the other boy's face. Bruce looked. . . happy. He had a huge goofy grin on his face, and his eyes just sparkled. And at that moment, Lex was lost. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but Lex had fallen in love with Bruce, and there was no turning back now.

"That was good," Bruce said, his eyes still dancing and that wide smile plastered on his gorgeous face.

"Yeah," Lex replied. He tugged on Bruce's shirt, pulling him down closer. "But that could have been an anomaly. I say for the good of science we should run the experiment again."

"Oh, for the 'good of science' eh?" Bruce asked, chuckling. Attempting a serious expression, Bruce slowly leaned in until his breath was puffing across Lex's face with each word. "I think you're absolutely right. We'd better. . . for the 'good of science.'" And as Bruce pressed his open mouth against his once more, all Lex could think was how this was the best birthday present he'd ever received.

***

He came to when he was being moved into the ambulance. At first, because of the strobe light effect of the red and blue, Lex thought he'd somehow gotten into it again at one of the clubs. God, another overdose? Lionel was going to be so pissed-- Oh, God. . . Lionel! And Julian. And, Jesus, Colin. It was Lionel. He'd been hit--

"Sir, you were in a car accident," said a female voice from his right, but when he tried to look at her he couldn't make anything out. The lights kept messing him up.

"Sir, are you coming along?" the must-be-female-paramedic asked. Lex was beginning to wonder if he were really in trouble in the head department, because that comment had made absolutely no sense to him, when he heard a vaguely familiar voice respond.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, I'll ride along," Chance said, breath wheezing out. The guy must have had to run after the stretcher or something. Either that, or he was just in piss-poor physical condition. Lex felt the legs of the stretcher fold under as he was pushed into the back of the ambulance, closing his eyes against the harsh white of the overhead lights inside. He also felt one of the doors towards the front open and the shifting of weight inside, and then the closing thump.

"Ready, Sal?" asked a gruff male voice from up front.

"Yeah, we're all in back here. Let's hit it," his attendee responded, slamming the doors surprisingly close to Lex's ear. "Mr. Luthor. Mr. Luthor, I need you to open your eyes for me. You have a deep head laceration, and I need to check your pupils and responses. Okay?" Lex opened his eyes slowly, wanting to avoid the startling retina-fry for as long as possible. "There. Keep 'em open, just like that. Okay, good."

Seeing a blurry shape behind 'Sal,' Lex tried to focus on it and force it into resolution. Gradually, Chance Aerson's worried face came into clear view, and Lex felt a tiny smile tug at his lips.

"Hey," he said, briefly startled at the raspy-ness of his own voice. "Decided to stick around for the show, huh?"

The other man just scrunched up his face, looking like he was searching for something to say. Meanwhile, Lex's new paramedic friend must have finished her testing, for she removed the pen-light from his eyes and smiled at Lex.

"Looks worse than it is, is all," she said, as though that were somehow comforting. How bad did it look?

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Luthor," she said, chuckling softly. "I'm sure that gash will heal just fine. You do have a concussion, but a couple days and you'll be all good." All good. All-- Shit! Colin and Julian! They were in the hotel room all alone. What if Lionel hadn't just been getting back at him? What if the old shark had arranged the crash in order to get Lex out of the way while he and his goons went after the boys?

Terrified that he might be right, Lex looked over to Chance again. "Chance, can I use your phone? It's an emergency."

And the guy just looked at Lex like he was an idiot. . . or crazy as a loon.

"Look," Lex began. "I know what's going on, but my phone's back in the car and you-- I left my brothers alone and I have to tell them. . . what happened." He tried to imitate Lian's puppy dog eyes. "I have to make sure they're okay. They'll be worried if I'm not back soon." Chance was still just sitting there, looking at him strangely, so Lex tried again. "Chance, I have to call my brothers. Please, can I use your phone?"

Well, maybe the puppy dog eyes just took a little longer than usual to go into effect when Lex did them, because after he finished that sentence Chance began scrounging around in his jacket pockets. After a minute of watching the man near grope himself -- all the while, wearing an expression Lex would, at any other time, have laughed himself silly over -- a black cell-phone was finally uncovered. Reaching over the paramedic, Chance gently placed the phone in Lex's hand and then remained in a semi-crouching position, hovering over Lex as though he had something further to add. Though that didn't last long, as 'Sal' nudged him in the stomach, forcing him back onto the bench. Lex began wringing his brain in an attempt to recall the hotel's number. Concussions definitely did not help with the memory.

"What's the number?" Chance asked.

Lex resisted the urge to snap at him. After all, it wasn't this guy's fault that-- none of this was Chance's fault. The other man had only helped him, and so Lex took a few breaths in an attempt to calm himself down before answering.

"I can't-- I don't remember."

"You can't remember your house phone number?" Sal began. "That could be a sign of-- "

"No, they're not at Lione-- the house," Lex interrupted. "They're-- they're at the. . . " And now he debated whether or not he should tell them the name of the hotel. If he didn't, there was no way he'd get a hold of his brothers, and God! What if it were already too late?! Just. . .

"They're staying at the Kline Hotel," Lex said quickly. "But I don't remember the number there."

"Here," Chance said, reaching for the phone. Completely freaking out now, Lex handed it over. "I'll get 'Information,' and we'll find out, no problem." No problem. Must be the guy's motto, or something.

"Yes," Chance suddenly said into the receiver. "I need the number for the front desk of the Kline Hotel, please. . . Thank you very much." There was a longer pause and then, "Yeah, that would be great, thanks." Then he quickly shoved the phone back at Lex.

He grabbed it and put it to his ear, to the sound of the line ringing. A click and then a smooth male voice asked, "The Kline. How may I help you?"

"I need to call room 634. Please."

"Certainly, sir. One moment for me to connect you." There was another click and then the phone was ringing again. And again. And again. . . and--

"Hello?"

"Julian," Lex said, relief obvious. "Oh, thank God, I got you. I-- I was in an accident." He heard the gasp over the line. "But don't worry, I'm fine. I need you-- I think you two should. . . " How was he supposed to say this, with two strangers listening to every word? Fuck it. It would all become public knowledge soon, anyway. "Lian, you need to leave. The wreck. . .it wasn't an accident-- I just need you to get Colin and get out of there, okay?" He tried to give Julian a clue, without totally giving it away, but he had the feeling he'd only come across as paranoid and crazy, to both parties listening. And as he listened to the light breathing coming in through the speaker, Lex prayed that by the time they got out of there, Lionel and company wouldn't already be waiting for them. . . in the lobby, or something, on the elevator, as they went to leave. . .

"Now, Julian," Lex said, the command strong in his voice. "And take the stairs."

"Lex, what-- why do we have to go? Where are we gonna go?" Which was a good question. Lex really needed a clear head right about now, and of course now was when he had a concussion fogging up his brain. Where could they go?

"Jameson," Lex said, suddenly. "Look it up on the laptop. No, wait. Have Colin look it up, and you pack, and then get the hell out of there, Lian! It was all just a set-up to get me out of the way. Take a cab. Don't walk." Lex tried to remember if there was anything else he had to tell them, but he'd already wasted enough time as it was. "Okay, do it." And with that, Lex snapped the phone shut, ending the call.

Taking a breath, Lex briefly closed his eyes and held his arm out in Chance's general direction, phone resting in the palm of his upturned hand. Opening his eyes again, he looked at Chance and said calmly, as if he hadn't just acted like a crazed conspiracy nut, "Thank you."

And the other man just nodded, picking up the cell and shoving it back into one of the multitude of pockets decorating his beat up jacket.

"Here we are," called the voice from up front, as the ambulance rushed to a stop. "Let's unload the merchandise, Sal!"

And with that, Lex was jerked out on a gurney, and wheeled into Queensway Hospital's emergency room.

***

Chance stayed with him. When he asked why, all the other man had said was, "Lex, being in a hospital sucks. Being alone in a hospital seriously sucks." Which Lex had to admit was true. He'd never been in a hospital when it hadn't meant something bad had happened.

A doctor Feth had checked him over and declared Lex fit enough not to require overnight observation, followed by a nurse who applied butterfly bandages to the cut on the side of his head. As he finished up the paperwork a bit later, he felt Chance's eyes on him. Finally finishing the last form, he'd signed the entirety of the visit over to Lionel's insurance almost gleefully, Lex returned the stare, declaring, "We're outta here," and jerking his thumb in the direction of the exit.

Trying his best to remain upright and forwardly mobile, Lex wondered what his next step was. Did he just show up at Jameson's doorstep, too?

As the two of them stood just outside the sliding doors of the ER, Chance turned to face him.

"Look, I know it's none of my business," he started. "And that you probably don't really want my help anymore, but is there something I can do? What I mean is, since you don't have a car and you were really. . . worried about something back there, I want to know if you need anything." Eyes on his feet, Chance added, "I don't have a car or anything, but I could call you a cab, or. . . I don't know, let you use my phone again to maybe. . . call your brothers again? Make sure they got out okay?"

Lex had to hand it to the guy. He still looked completely freaked and utterly bewildered, but he very nearly managed to pull off the air of slacker nonchalance he seemed to be aiming for.

Lex just smirked. "A cab would be greatly appreciated," he responded. "I still have my wallet, so I could drop you off somewhere."

"Well, the thing is. . . honestly, I was wonderi-- it's just you sounded like you needed some help or something, and I-- " He looked up at Lex. "I'm not trying to get anything here, but I would just feel bad if I left you in a bad spot. I could help." Chance dropped his head again. "If you needed it, that is."

Was this guy for real? Who the hell actually offered to help anyone these days, let alone help a Luthor with no expectations for reward? This was just some game. And if Lex accepted, then Chance here would pull a fast one, and he'd be left worse off than he'd been while in that wreck. It could even be a trick of Lionel's. Maybe Chance Aerson was a rat. . .

But the problem was he didn't act like a rat. He wasn't giving off the 'bad' vibes Lex was used to feeling with liars. Lex could detect a fraud almost as well as Bruce had been able to, and Chance? . . . wasn't.

But did he dare trust him with his life? With the lives of the only family he had left?