Experimentation

Rating: PG

Summary: Vaguely AUish. Lex wants to perform a reckless experiment... and needs an ER doctor to back him up.

Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville. Vague on who does.

Notes: Little thing I wrote after watching the season one DVDs a very long time ago. Sort of slipped through the cracks... and since I haven't been able to finish anything lately, I thought I'd do a little spring cleaning...

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While Lex didn't have much time to waste surveying the potential candidates, he allowed himself a pause, a long, sweeping gaze through the busy area.

"What do you MEAN you're backlogged--"

"Look, if all you've got is a cut--"

"Yo, Hayes, I gotta leave early, could you take these guys for me?"

"I, uh--"

"Thanks, man, they should be cupcakes, no trouble at all. I'll pay you back sometime!"

"But I don't think I'll ever have to--"

"Just say the word and I'll cover for you!"

"But I don't think I'll ever need to--"

The man flipped "Hayes" a jaunty salute, leaving the mousy, bespectacled brunette standing in the middle of the hallway sputtering helplessly.

There we go, he thought.

"Excuse me, miss?" he called, walking up to her. She turned, still looking slightly stunned. "Could you help me for a moment?"

"Uh, there's a line, and a sign-in sheet, and--"

"Oh, I'm not strictly a patient." He flashed her one of his most charming smiles. "I just need a moment of your time. Could we talk somewhere?"

"I, uh-- don't think that would be-- why would you want to--?"

"Please."

She blinked at him repeatedly and followed him into a room. "Uh..." she said, watching him pull curtains closed and thoroughly check the room for people. 'What exactly are you...?"

"Making sure nobody's spying on us."

"I carry mace."

"...Right, and warning someone of that is the best way to use it effectively."

She flushed brightly, pulling her files closer to her chest.

"Look, I'm not going to attack you. You do know who I am, right?"

She blinked at him again. "I-- should I?"

"...Yes, you really should."

"I-- don't know you, do I? I'm so sorry, I don't remember anybody from college, I--"

"No, we've never met," Lex corrected, wondering how exactly it could be that there were people in this town who didn't know his name. Granted, that was a little arrogant, but from the way everyone in this town seemed to look at him, not to mention the way he owned half of the place...

"Then... how am I supposed to know you, exactly?"

"...I was under the impression that I was far more notorious than this."

"Oh, you probably are, I'm just-- rather spectacularly obtuse, I-- wait." A hint of recognition flickered in her eyes. "Are you that guy? The, uh, the bald guy, that-- son of that rich guy, who runs that place?"

"...Very specific, aren't we?"

"What's-his-name. Luthor. Was it Luthor?"

"Lex Luthor," he said, holding out a hand, giving up on the idea of letting her figure it out on her own.

"Ah. Uh, right." She shook it nervously. "Was there... something you wanted, or something?"

"Yes, as it happens. You see, surely you've noticed--" He paused suddenly as he realized that, at this rate, that might very well not be the case. "--that a large number of very strange things happen in this town."

She nodded, to his relief. "I-- yeah, I noticed that quite a while ago, yeah. With the green glowy rocks and--well." She coughed.

He was plesantly surprised that she'd actually managed to conenct the strangeness with the rocks. Her obtuseness was apparently selective. "Exactly. Now, I was in this town when those meteors fell, and I've been thinking that logically, the rocks should have affected me as well. More than is obvious."

"Obvious?"

"The lack of hair," he explained patiently.

"Oh. I, uh, figured you just shaved it or something."

"No. It all fell out."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, then, uh..." Hayes fidgeted.

"Since everyone else seems to develop interesting powers like ice beams or telepathy or something along those lines when exposed to the meteors, it just seems deeply strange to me that in my case, I would only lose my hair."

"Seems unfair, yes."

"But I was thinking that perhaps I did gain some sort of power."

"Really?"

He sighed. This was taking entirely too long. "You see, I get beaten up rather a lot."

"And that's... a superpower?"

"God, I hope not."

"Stranger than paper manipulation."

After thinking for a second, Lex decided to let that comment go entirely. "...Sure. But in all seriousness, I should be dead, several times over, by now."

"Okay." She blinked. "I'd say you seem to be having a lot of difficulty with your lifestyle."

"Granted, but I think I should try to figure out why I'm not."

"Not dead? I don't know, I-- wouldn't want to question it, but-- I-- wouldn't really know, not having-- any sort of powers at all, and-- what's the point of this again?"

"Think about it. How would I go about that, anyway?"

She blinked and turned her eyes downward, thinking. "Well, you'd-- I suppose you'd have to try and-- get yourself killed, in a--controlled environment, and make sure someone was around to bring you back if it turned out you were wrong."

"Yes. And you wouldn't want anyone finding out about it, would you?" He smiled patiently.

"No-- all those shady government things, untrustworthy I suppose..."

"So you'd have to try to find someone to help you."

"Someone you trusted. Or who understood your situation and wouldn't want to tell. Or possibly just someone you could utterly cow." The young doctor paused.

"I don't really trust anyone," Lex said cheerfully.

"Oh sweet god almighty. NO!"

"Well, no one who's a doctor, anyway. Or who'd agree to it."

"I don't agree to it! This is crazy! And-- there are Hippocratic Oaths and things, and morals and scruples and you know! All those things! And NO!"

"I think you'll come around."

"NONONONONO! I'll get FIRED!"

"No you won't. In fact, you'll get fired if you don't."

"How the bloody hell--"

Lex fought the temptation to roll his eyes at her naivete. "You honestly think I couldn't arrange that?"

"...Well, THAT wouldn't be fair!"

"Yes, for the Luthors have always been known for their fair-mindedness."

"Well the apple falls pretty far from the tree, then, doesn't it!"

He sighed and massaged his forehead briefly. On the positive side, this conversation might well kill him, and then she wouldn't have a choice. "Look, nothing will happen! Even if I AM wrong. Which never happens."

"That so," she snapped, running a hand through her hair as she paced around. Lex had seen too many caged animals in his lifetime to not be able to read this one.

"You could just wait ten minutes and start code procedures!" he reasoned. "I'd be fine!"

"And then I'd get asked why I waited ten minutes!"

"How would they know you waited ten minutes?"

"We have ways of knowing these things, I can assure you!"

"Well, it would hardly be YOUR fault if I happened to have a heart attack while--"

"I would've been in the ROOM with you for the past several minutes! It'd be pretty damn obvious!"

"Well, you could leave."

"Oh sure!" she screeched. "Leave a dead guy laying around for ten minutes while I hop across the street and get some coffee!"

"It's been known to happen."

"And THEN you'd get angry at me for letting you do it and you'd sue me and I'd STILL get fired!"

"I wouldn't sue you! For doing what I told you to!"

"More unjust things have happened, you know!"

"Yes, but--"

"I won't do this!" She turned to leave.

"You really think I'll just let you walk out that door?"

She jumped, arms wrapping around herself instinctively. "You can't do anything to me."

"You can't honestly believe that. You're hideously unobservant, but you're not stupid."

"But you can't do anything to me." Her voice quavered despite herself.

"You're telling me there's nothing you care about? No boyfriend, no girlfriend? No family at all? No project in this hospital, no clinic, that couldn't withstand a drastic cut in funding? You wouldn't mind if the paramedic service was disabled? Or if that colleague of yours who sneaks health care to the uninsured were suddenly found out and fired in disgrace? There isn't a single thing in your life that's important enough to indulge some rich boy's fancy?"

She was silent for a long moment.

"If you walk out that door," he said softly, "I'm just going to go out and do it on my own. And if I am wrong, my death will be on your head."

"...No it wouldn't."

"Wouldn't it be better for me at least to be supervised?"

"It would be BETTER for you not to do it at all!" she cried.

"But you can't talk me out of it."

"I can damn well try!"

"No you can't."

"Waiiiii..." She actually moaned in anguish, sitting down on one of the beds.

"If I have to do this myself..." He opened a cabinet and glanced around inside.

"Damn straight you'll have to do this yourself, I-- waiiiiiiiii..." She quailed as he rummaged through the cabinet, finding a needle and looking for medication. "I'm positive that's not allowed..."

"Then stop me."

She twitched fairly violently, looking away. "I'll never forgive myself for this. Never-never-never."

"If you'll stop wallowing in self-pity, you could help me attach this monitor."

"Self-pity!" She yanked a monitor closer and skittishly helped him apply the pads, touching him as little as possible.

"Will this work for my purposes?"

"Why the hell would I tell you?" she said, not looking at the bottle.

"Good point. Fortunately I did some research on this before I came."

She let out a prolonged cry of anguish as she turned off the monitor's alarms. "Never, never, never. There's a hell, then I'm going there, I-- never, never, never."

He glanced at her. For all her protestations, she hadn't been very loud in her complaints. She hadn't screamed. He had to keep her believing that there was nothing she could do. "Could you help me with the needle here?"

"I--- no, I-- for the love of-- Kill your OWN damn self!" she snapped. "I couldn't possibly! 'Sides, I hear you've had-- MORE than adequate experience with needles--!"

"True," he said calmly, and drew the liquid into the syringe.

"You-- can't actually be serious about this." Her voice was trembling now, rather like someone caught in a nightmare. "You can't actually be serious, you-- can't actually do it."

"If nothing happens in ten minutes," he instructed calmly, "it would be very nice if you'd do something about that. Not before."

"How do you know I'll--!"

"I don't." He smiled at her and slipped the needle into his arm.

"YOU CAN'T ACTUALLY DO THIS!" Her every instinct told her to run over and snatch the needle from his arm-- but it was too late, the madman had already done it, and somehow she hadn't stopped him.

Dr. Hayes cried out in anguish, fear, self-loathing, and panic as the lines on the heart monitor went out of control. She jumped up, now, too late, and started to pace frantically again as the line went flat. Trying to decide if she was going to jail or hell.

She flicked frantic glances between the monitor and the clock, counting down the seconds, screaming inwardly at herself that she couldn't just let him lay there dead, and as a doctor and a person, she should forget all that crap he'd said and break out the paddles. As a person she had a duty to stop this.

And somehow she didn't. Somehow obeyed, though she was screaming at herself not to. Thought frantically of Nazis and Stockholm syndrome and all the dirty little weaknesses that people liked to ignore to paint a picture of themselves, in personal and general, as brave and noble people who stood up when they saw injustice, acted according to their moral code. And it simply wasn't true.

It took her a couple of seconds, in that state, before she could make sense of the quietly jumping line on the monitor. She stared at it, uncomprehending, and then sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably into her sleeves.

"HAYES! The hell've you gone off to!" Her supervisor opened the door. "THERE you are! The line's stretching around the block, get out here!"

She rose, very shaky. "I-- I'm sorry, I--"

She paused. "I can't work here anymore," she said, and pushed past him, running, all the way out of the ER.

"Hayes!" His attention snapped to the man on the hospital bed. "The hell's that damn punk done now!"

The question was rhetorical; he knew by now that nobody questioned the weird bald hooligan who owned half the town. He closed the door, swearing to himself, and started the arrangements for taking care of Lex Luthor, and finding Dr. Hayes.

But there was no taking care of Lex Luthor, and Dr. Hayes was never coming back.

Lex would later try to send the girl a stipend, considering he was the one who'd lost her her job. She would return to throw the money back in his face in person. Not working as a doctor anymore. Not steadily working as anything.

One more miscalculation to add to the list. Another soul landed in the Luthors' dustbin.

The experiment had been a complete success.

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