My first foray into the Smallville fandom. The beginning sort of mirrors what would have been Clark Luthor's fate had the writers of the comic actually written out Earth-2 Chloe's memories, with obvious differences. However, it is not necessary to look up what happened to follow the fanfic. Follows the episodes "Luthor" and "Kent" otherwise.
Chapter 1: Reboot
Clark Luthor looked around the fortress with apprehension. He'd been taught for his entire life that this place, the AI within it, was detrimental to his success. Yet, those were the words of a man that set his own children against each other. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, then opened them again, looking around as he wandered down to the console. "Father!"
Thinking that what Lionel had done to the fortress was irreversible, he was surprised to hear a voice echo within the chamber, "Welcome, my son." He had to blink repeatedly, sure that he was mistaken. However, the crystals in the console glowed, and Clark had to remind himself that he was going to try his hand at reform, like Kent had suggested.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and then felt the ground shake. Blinking, he tried to steady himself. What was going on? Then he heard the crunch of ice and snow, and Clark blanched. This was supposed to be a sanctuary, and yet there were others there. Glancing outside with his x-ray vision, he paled even more when he saw the telltale glint of blue kryptonite. This wasn't supposed to happen! He had come back to try and fix things, but apparently others had different ideas.
He'd lived one disaster of a life, and he couldn't exactly blame people for wanting to kill him. First Lex, and then the Smallville High massacre, and every corporate enemy his father- no, Lionel had sent him against. He swallowed convulsively, and glanced around. He had only one choice, really. He couldn't be caught here, he couldn't be killed.
Taking a deep breath, he quickly went into super speed mode. He had to abandon the fortress, and with it any chance of redemption. He cursed himself, and Kent, and hell, the name Luthor. He wondered vaguely if his life would have been better had he stayed on Krypton for its destruction, but unfortunately he couldn't say.
Before he could go too far, a red streak intercepted him. Dark-skinned and imposing, the man held a blade to him, blue kryptonite glowing. Eyes widening, Clark backed away, but before he could take another step, another person appeared behind him. Clark didn't need his hearing or sight to know he was surrounded.
He closed his eyes and waited. There was no redemption here. Not for him. Kent had sent him to his death. Maybe it was better. After all, survival of the fittest, wasn't that was Lionel had always preached? Here, with blue kryptonite, he wasn't the fittest. He was mortal. He felt the bite of the arctic, and shivered.
It wasn't until he heard the crunch of boots upon the snow and then a feel of a cold barrel against his forehead that he knew that this was it. He opened his eyes and stared at the person holding the gun. A woman, brown hair and green eyes, was glaring at him, a hard line where her mouth would be. He locked his eyes on hers; knowing that she was going to do it, end the life of the last Luthor. Or did he already do that? It was hard to tell, considering that he'd killed his brother. Lionel was still somewhere, and he couldn't tell where. He was still on the other Earth, he knew that much. Maybe that was it. The line of Luthors, drawn to an end because of his father's machinations.
He wasn't sure what was worse; waiting for the girl to pull the trigger, or for something else to happen. He'd never been patient, after all. He took another deep breath. Luthors did not beg. They negotiated. So, Clark was going to negotiate. "If you're going to pull that trigger, then do it. I know that I deserve it after all. Besides, you didn't come to hear me beg for mercy. You came to become just like me. A murderer. So do it already."
He didn't know what to expect, but the girl scowling and taking the gun away from his head was not one of them. She sneered, gesturing toward the others. "Come on. I think the courts would love to see him right now. After all, he's never been on trial. They would really cheer if they sentenced him to death."
Before she took a step however, the fortress reacted. A blinding flash of light lit up the area, and suddenly everyone was on their knees, Clark included. Clark felt the power returning to his limbs, and glanced around wildly. The men and woman were on their knees, their weapons no longer glowing with the blue of deadly kryptonite, but with white instead. Had the AI just…?
Before he could formulate a thought, Jor-El's voice rose from the crystals surrounding the group. "You will not harm my son, Kal-El! He is destined to guide this planet, to protect it! Your actions will doom you."
Clark blinked, wondering exactly what Jor-El had to be doing, but the dark man and the girl stood up first, the man's face frowning at the voice, while the girl's twisted in fury. The man touched the girl's arm, turning to look at Clark before addressing the AI. "Jor-El, you mean that you would stand in the way of justice?"
The girl gaped, looking from the man to the fortress itself, casting just one accusatory glare toward Clark before she returned her attention to the fortress itself when it spoke. "I will. You were supposed to watch for my son, assist him, protect him, and yet you did not. You did not fulfill your promise, J'onn."
"What?" the girl hissed, but Clark wasn't paying attention to her, instead to the man J'onn.
"Wait, I was supposed to go to the Kents?" Clark had a hard time wrapping his mind around that, remembering his father joking once that he could have been found by common farmers. He recalled Kent now, and how certain he seemed about himself. How easy his life had been. Was that supposed to be his fate?
Life it seemed was full of cruel irony, as the girl swung her gun around again, pointing it steadily at Clark. "Talk one more time, Slasher McHappy-Pants. I won't hesitate to shoot you."
Clark rolled his eyes at that, a small smirk on his face despite the imminent danger he was in. However, Jor-El decided to speak, answering Clark's question. "That was your mother Lara's wish, yes. She found the Kents to be a suitable family for you."
His mother. Lillian had died before he could form any true impression of her, and Lex never volunteered any information about her. A painful secret for him, Clark supposed. He'd known he had to have a mother before, but to have someone just mention her like that? J'onn seemed to make up his mind about something, and turned to the others. "I will take him into custody from here. Jor-El, if you have any ideas on how to contain him for the moment, I will ensure nothing happens as long as he cooperates."
Clark nearly felt like protesting, but as soon as the words left J'onn's mouth, something in the fortress shifted, and Clark suddenly felt a piercing cold that he was certain he had never experienced before. He started shivering immediately, his face registering shock. The girl looked at Clark and a smirk touched her face. "Oh, look, Slasher's freezing. Welcome to the world of us mere mortals."
"Chloe, be nice. Pretty sure he's not going to enjoy what I'm going to do to him." Clark's eyes widened and he realized that his fate was literally in their hands. "Now, Jor-El, I know you have something in mind. I doubt it's the Phantom Zone."
"No, it is not the Phantom Zone. If Kal-El truly wishes for reform, then he will be sent to the place where he can change his fate here. I trust that meets with your approval? He will not have access to his abilities until you deem he is worthy of them again. Watch him, J'onn. I cannot undo where he was raised, but I trust that he knows the consequences of what he has done, and what awaits him should he fail." The tone sounded ominous, and Clark felt a shiver run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
"So we're not going to take out the trash here?" Clark hadn't heard any of the others speak, so was surprised when he heard the man with machinery speak. He didn't look happy, but then again, why would he be anything but pissed?
"No, Victor, we won't. Luthor wants a chance to redeem himself, we'll give it to him." The man named Victor swore profusely at that, and J'onn gave the other man a look. "All right Jor-El, ready when you are."
The room flooded with light again, and Clark blacked out.
Clark awoke to the feeling of pain coursing through his arm. He groaned, trying to figure out what was going on, when he heard someone walk over. The voice threw him for a loop, and Clark looked over. "Well well well, the favorite son awakens. I take it dear old Dad wouldn't be too happy if I just killed you right here and now, would he?"
Lex! But, how? His eyes opened, and he looked into the face of Lex Luthor, his deceased brother. Or, he would be deceased, if he wasn't standing right beside the couch cleaning a familiar-looking blade. The gold of the blade glinted, and Clark shoved down the horror that would have otherwise consumed him. Where was he?
Lex apparently wasn't paying too much attention to Clark, finishing up the work he was doing and sliding the blade back into a lead sheath. He then turned and looked at Clark, his eyes roving over the younger man before coming to a stop at his arm. His right arm. Which, to his horror, was oozing blood sluggishly. He swallowed, looking back at Lex before a feeling of anger and hate threatened to consume him. Oh, how could he forget this event in his life? This meant he was sixteen, or remembering what happened. Mentally he wanted to curse his biological father, but refrained, instead shoving his current feelings aside to deal with his 'beloved' brother. "I don't know, Lex. How would our father react when he finds out that you damaged me irreversibly?"
Lex sneered. "We both know that you happen to heal immediately when exposed to sunlight Clark. You just need to go outside. Then again, I wouldn't have thought it was possible to use the gold stuff to hurt you before."
"I'm pretty sure you knew damn well what would happen." Clark heaved himself up, still feeling the effects of the fortress's drain on his abilities. Or was it the use of gold Kryptonite? He wasn't sure, hell, he wasn't sure what was going on. Jor-El had said he would be sent to where he could change his fate. Maybe this was it?
Lex laughed humorlessly. "Ah yes, I forgot. You and dear old Dad have been running tests on your abilities for ages. I'm pretty sure that you had discovered this brand of Kryptonite before."
He could do it. Kill Lex where he stood. All he needed to do was grab the blade like last time and shove it through his brother's heart like last time. He refrained, however. It took all of the self-control he had not to. If this was a test, he planned on passing with flying colors. Standing, he swayed a bit, orienting himself and blocking the pain from his brother's lovely gift.
Lex watched him, and Clark was certain that Lex was trying to figure out what was going on. After all, Lex did have a genius intellect. Not as superior as his own, but no one on Earth possessed that. He wandered over to the windows, knowing that he was going to discover the same thing he had the last time he had been exposed to gold Kryptonite. The sunlight wasn't going to restore his powers, or heal the wound on his arm. It had taken finding the Stones of Power and activating the fortress to regain them. Lex was still studying him, and Clark resisted the urge to punch him in the face. "What, no retaliation against this latest offense?"
Clark smirked. Had he just thrown Lex off his usual track? He wanted to savor this moment, but he had other things to do. "No, Lex. No retaliation. I'm pretty sure that Father would love to see that, wouldn't he? He's always been setting us against each other. As much as I would love to rip your throat out, I think disappointing Lionel would be more satisfying. Wouldn't you agree?"
Lex's eyes narrowed and Clark knew his mind was working through the possibilities of what Clark was up to. Good, let him try and figure it out. It was always fun to knock Lex off-kilter, after all. He started toward the door, then turned toward his rival for so many years. "You know, for someone so bright, you happen to be an idiot. You should really follow Tess's example and join sides with me. What better way to really piss Lionel off than have him realize that his kids, all of them, teamed up to get rid of him."
Leaving Lex to ponder over what had occurred, he made his way to his room, realizing he was in the castle in Smallville. Of course. This was around the time that Lionel had sent him here to destroy the meteor freaks. He'd refrained, of course, gathering up the names and appearances of all of them to kill them during their graduation instead. He himself had graduated early, and hadn't quite reached the age where it was permissible to let him run anything. Then again, he hadn't murdered anyone yet to give Lionel an edge against his competition.
So many incidents of death, and yet Lex had been his first, in that room, right after Lex had scarred him permanently. As he entered his room, he immediately went over to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Well, might as well clean himself up, right? Pressing the cloth to his arm after wetting it, Clark winced as it stung. He wanted to kill Lex. He also wanted to redeem himself. His two sides were at war with each other, and Clark ignored the feeling. He could do this. He could redeem himself. He needed the AI of his fortress, and that wouldn't be available to him. He needed... His eyes snapped open, and he realized that he did have a connection to Jor-El. The Kawatche caves. Lionel had the key locked up in a safe, and would only allow himself access, but Clark had figured out the combination back when he first discovered his super hearing. He doubted it had changed beforehand. Lionel was arrogant in that regard.
He wondered if it boded badly for the man he once called father that he wasn't referring to him as his father. Then again, Lionel had boasted at length to Lex before that his best son was the one that had no Luthor blood running through his veins. Yet again, more evidence of Lionel driving them to compete for his love. Lionel wasn't right then, and he wasn't right now. Clark wasn't going to let Lionel win here. Maybe this wasn't exactly the idea that Jor-El had in mind when he mentioned that Clark needed to succeed at redemption, but he couldn't resist the fact that for all of his sins, there had been one person driving them. He wondered if this was Jor-El's hand, deciding that the best way to redeem his son was to set him against his false father. If that was Jor-El's purpose, he wasn't sure if he should be angry or pleased. Angry since he was being used yet again, and pleased because of all the people on this planet, he could think of no one else that deserved death more.
The blood wasn't stopping, and Clark became worried. He didn't remember if he needed medical attention or not last time, and he was starting to feel light-headed. This wasn't good. He cast about for something, and his eyes alighted on a towel. There. It was a hand towel, not really something he should wrap his arm with, but it would do. He refused to let Lionel have his medical team look over him again. He remembered the tests he went through when he was younger. They'd try and determine the cause of his lack of healing factor. Tying the towel one-handed around his arm was a challenge, but Clark was determined. No, he could do this. He didn't need to see a doctor.
To say that Lana enjoyed her work at the Beanery was a lie. She hated it. However, she had wanted to work, and here she was. She'd managed to get good at the job enough that she wasn't in danger of losing her job, but that didn't mean she could slack off. As it was, the sixteen year old was busy trying to get the last few payments on her car paid off, so she didn't worry too much. After all, she'd managed to do it for the first two years since she quit being a cheerleader, she could do it some more.
She blinked as she noticed the guy in the back corner observing his cup of coffee for the last ten minutes. He'd been sitting there for a while, and Lana wasn't sure if she should get him a refill for his drink or see if he needed something else. Deciding the only way to find out was to ask, she grabbed the pot of coffee and made her way over, giving other people refills as she passed. When she got to the table, she smiled at him and lifted the pot invitingly. "Need me to top you off there, or you good for right now?"
The man lifted his head, and she blinked as she realized he was just about as old as she was. Black hair hung shaggy across his forehead, and it looked as though it had been mussed from its usual style. His face was pale, and she had to wonder if he was sick. He winced as she approached and glanced at her neck. "I'm fine. I should get going."
He rose unsteadily to his feet, and had to grip the side of the table with his hands. It was at that moment that he hissed in pain, and she saw a towel around his right arm soaked with blood. Her eyes widened, and she went to help him. "Whoa, are you sure you should be leaving? I mean, you don't look so good right now."
"I'm fine!" He shook her away, and Lana looked beseechingly back toward her supervisor. The woman was on the phone, and Lana sighed. Dealing with one belligerent customer was not her idea of a good way to end a shift.
"Jenna! Tell Tabitha I'm leaving early. Getting this guy to the hospital." The other girl behind the counter's eyes went wide before she nodded, and Lana grabbed the man's uninjured arm to direct him outside. His face radiated rage, but Lana didn't care. She'd dealt with worse, and she could tell that this guy wouldn't go himself. As it was, his struggles were weak compared to his size, and Lana wondered how much he'd been bleeding before she decided to take charge. "Okay, my car or yours? If we go with yours, you can leave the hospital on your own. After you get treated, of course."
The guy went to protest, but Lana knew it was a futile effort when he slumped and nodded. "Black one, the Prius. I need to get my keys." She nodded, and he fished them out of his left hand pocket before he handed them over. She quickly opened the door for him and helped him inside before getting inside herself. She only hoped she wasn't getting in over her head here.
Clark glared at the doctor while he was suturing the wound. He could already tell that the doctor wanted to say something about the nature of the wound, but Clark didn't care. It was bad enough that they had decided to take a sample to match his blood type and get him a transfusion. The only good thing was that he didn't register as an alien. Not like he'd been overly concerned about his secret, but Clark did prefer to keep that part of himself as quiet as possible to let people underestimate him. That, and during his time as Ultraman, it helped to divert attention from Clark Luthor.
He did have to admit, he felt immensely better with the transfusion, though he looked worriedly at the wound itself. Now that it had been closed, it didn't look as bad, but he remembered the scar from it clearly. After the doctor taped gauze to his arm, he took back his arm and rubbed it carefully, wincing. Would it look as bad as it did back then? He honestly had no idea, and considering the fact that the doctor didn't know the nature of how it happened, he couldn't tell Clark either.
The doctor gave Clark a look and took his gloves off. "Well, Mr. Luthor. Everything's been taken care of. I would rather you stay overnight for obser-"
Clark leveled the man with a glare. "No. I'm going to be leaving as soon as I can, which will be when you take this needle out of my arm, or I take it out myself. If I do, you won't like what happens to the needle. Now, take it out!"
The man blanched, and Clark assumed he probably used the look he'd perfected years ago to scare him. Clark watched him practically run out to get the discharge paperwork and he settled back. Oh, he knew that Lionel was going to hate hearing that his prize had gotten outside medical attention, but he didn't care. It wasn't like they could detect anything with him in this state.
Closing his eyes, he waited for the man's return when he heard a knock on the doorframe. He cocked his head as he opened them, and a satisfied smirk crossed his features. "Hello, Tess. Took you long enough to find me."
Tess shook her head, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Clark had to remind himself that no, he and Tess were not dating before he turned eighteen. Well, mostly because she was older than he was, though he didn't care. Tess walked over, shaking her head. "Considering that Dad's going to freak about you being in the hospital here, I'd rather be elsewhere actually. Avoid the eventual bloodshed." Her arms crossed, she frowned and asked, "What are you doing here, anyway?"
Clark paused, taking a moment to glance out of the doorway to see if the doctor was coming before replying. "Shut the door. I think it'd be bad for the other patients if they heard about it." Meaning, no, I won't say it, not in public.
Tess obliged, her frown deepening as she settled into the chair next to his bed. Her eyes drifted over the IV in his arm to the bag of blood that was now sitting empty. She shuddered. "Lex, then?"
Clark shrugged. "Isn't it always? I just didn't want Lionel's doctors poking and prodding me like I was a science experiment for them to work on."
Tess nodded. "Considering I think Dad would freak over the transfusion, I don't blame you." She put on her most serious face and gave Clark a look. "Clark Luthor, you have more brains than this. Why would you ever deign to put a plebian's blood in your veins? If nothing else, it should be Luthor blood just to ensure you got the choicest parts of this family."
The two shared a laugh, Clark finally feeling at ease in this odd situation than he had ever been. He'd thought that getting out of the mansion would do him some good to clear his head and allow him to think, but Tess's easy manner was doing it better than anything else had. He sighed, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth as he settled back. He was just fine, they had managed to control the bleeding, and it seemed as though his life before was no longer valid. Vaguely he wondered as to why, but he couldn't care less. Tess was here, and that was all that mattered. Maybe he could figure out a way to break Lionel's hold on the family once and for all.
"Hey, Tess? Do you ever wonder what would happen if I happened to give in to Lionel's orders?" He of course knew the answer, and knew that it would damn his soul in the process. But right now, the blood wasn't there, the demons weren't knocking, and he was content to prevent Lionel from winning again.
Tess looked worried, however, and she chewed on her lip. "It's one thing I worry about all the time, Clark. I mean, there's going to be a point when he's going to ask you to cross a line, and you can't go back. I pray you never have to, but…"
She knew, Clark knew that Tess knew his secrets. She never told anyone, being the closest member of his family he had. He didn't care how many taboos he was breaking by being in love with her. If he could make her happy, that was the only thing that mattered, Lionel be damned. He took her hand and kissed it lightly, stroking it with his thumb. "We'll figure it out. I know we will. We'll be free."
His tone must have said something, because Tess frowned. Then he realized, he'd let his emotions get the better of him. Mentally he started cursing in his head at his careless words while Tess blinked and snatched her hand away. "Clark? What happened to you?"