Hi guys! As you can see, I've decided to go ahead with another story - can't believe this is number six! I'm so excited about this story that I just have to write it - I've got so many ideas in my head, I can't wait to turn them all into chapters. As with all of my stories, I can promise you lots of angst (and believe me, with this one there is going to be LOTS of angst!), lots of action, and above all, lots of Ollie!

This story picks up exactly where my last story, Lethal Obsession, left off. If you have not read that one, why not! Seriously, this is a stand alone story - all you need to know to understand it is that in my other stories Lex discovered Oliver's identity as the Green Arrow, before capturing and torturing him. Oliver eventually escaped, with the help of Chloe and the Justice League (the Season Six League - Bart, AC and Victor) - he then had Lex locked up in a Queen Industries facility, whilst the world believed Lex perished in a fire.

What else do you need to know? Well, this story, like my others, will have Chlollie at its heart. There will be a lot of League in this one, and some Clark. Hope you are going to enjoy it - here goes!

Chapter One: Evil Resurrected

"Lex is dead."

AC's words, said simply and clearly, left Clark and Oliver silent, stunned by what they had heard. The two men froze, each staring at their young friend; they half expected his face to crack into a broad grin, a grin that would signal to them that this was all some sort of joke. But the grin did not appear, and AC simply returned their gaze, patiently waiting for them to adjust to news which seemed almost incomprehensible.

Lex, the man who had threatened each and every one of them time and time again, was no more.

"This is some sort of joke, right?" asked Oliver at last, his eyes searching the other man's face for some hint that this was an example of AC's bizarre sense of humour after all.

"No joke, Oliver," replied AC, his features remaining sombre. "We found him in his cell yesterday. Doc says it must have been a heart attack or something."

"But why didn't you call us – let us know?" asked Clark, beginning to recover from the shock of AC's initial revelation.

"Hey, I tried, man – but Watchtower wasn't answering."

AC's answer made sense; the events of the last twenty-four hours had meant that Watchtower had been left unmanned.

"What happened? Did the doctor say anything about what might have caused it?"

"He couldn't say. Might have been brought on by stress, or maybe some pre-existing condition – too hard to tell."

Clark's features hardened slightly, AC's words raising suspicions in his mind.

"You didn't do anything to him, did you? Hurt him in some way? Because if you did..."

"Listen dude, I did not lay a finger on him, okay?" replied AC defensively, a hint of irritation in his voice. He knew what Clark was thinking, and it angered him; he might have hated Lex, baited him a bit whilst he was locked up, but in no way was he going to allow Clark to lay responsibility for Lex's death at his door.

"Easy, guys, easy," said Oliver, intervening to stop the rising tension between his two friends spilling over into a full blown argument. "Sometimes these things happen for no reason. Perhaps it's for the best, yeah?"

"The best?" repeated Clark, incredulous at Oliver's words. "Lex was my friend, Oliver – don't forget that. He might have chosen to walk down the wrong path, but I know there was good in him. So don't ever say to me his death is "for the best," okay?"

AC and Oliver could hear the anger in Clark's words. They could see that he was struggling to come to terms with what he had been told, his complicated history with Lex making his response to Luthor's death more difficult to deal with.

"Okay, Clark – it's okay, really," replied Oliver quietly, trying to calm his friend before turning to AC. "What did you do with the body?"

"We buried him out in the woods to the east of Bateman – only four of us know exactly where."

"So he lies in an unmarked grave?" said Clark, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Look, I tolerated you locking Lex up without a trial – after all he'd done, I know you had no alternative. But this? This is just wrong."

"Listen Clark, we followed the agreed protocols," said AC, not realising that his words would make things worse, and not better.

"You mean you planned for this? I can't believe this is happening – after all you told me about how he would be looked after at Bateman..."

"He was looked after," interrupted Oliver, his frustration now showing through. "And AC did the right thing in burying him. What would you have us do, Clark? Give him a public funeral? How would we answer the questions from the press? From his friends? No, this was the only way, given the circumstances – the only way."

"Luthor was a murderer, Clark," added AC, trying to support his leader. "He got what he deserved."

"I didn't ask you," said Clark abruptly, before turning and striding off down the corridor. AC went to follow him, but Oliver held him back.

"Leave him," he said. "He's hurting, and he needs time alone to get his head round this. He'll be okay – just give him some space."

Both men stared after Clark's retreating figure. Clark's reaction had surprised them both, but as Oliver watched his friend disappear through the doors at the end of the corridor he remembered that Clark and Lex went back a long way. Oliver had long since recognised Lex for what he had become; a cold hearted killer, who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Clark, he knew, still believed that something of the old Lex remained, the man who had been his friend for so many years back in Smallville. He couldn't see that Lex was beyond all hope of redemption; a naive position, maybe, but seeing the good in people was what made Clark the man he was.

"I didn't touch him, Oliver – I swear," said AC, clearly unsettled by what had just taken place.

"I know, AC, I know," replied Oliver, giving his young friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Why don't you head back to Watchtower – get some rest. I'm going to stay here with Chloe, just in case she needs me."

"Hey bro, it looks like you are the one who needs some shut eye," said AC, aware of the exhaustion that showed on Oliver's face. "I guess you wouldn't be up for a swap – I stay here with Chloe, and you go get some rest?"

"I'm staying with Chloe. I'll be fine – really."

The two men smiled at each other. They had been through so much together, they understood each other better than most brothers. AC knew that any further attempt to persuade his friend to take a break would be pointless; he would never abandon Chloe, not even now she was out of danger.

"Okay, bro – I'm outta here," said AC. "But if you need anything – you know where I am, yeah?"

"Thanks, AC – thanks for everything."

The two men exchanged glances; nothing more needed to be said. AC then turned and made his way down the corridor towards the exit.

Oliver now stood alone in the corridor. He paused for a moment, before stepping over to the window that was opposite to the door to Chloe's room. They were twenty floors up, and the window afforded him a magnificent panorama of the city, the skyscrapers perfectly illuminated in the warm afternoon sun. As he looked out over the rooftops his thoughts turned back towards all the times that he and Lex had clashed down the years, from their rivalry at Excelsior to Oliver's campaign against 33.1 and those final, desperate battles of just months earlier, when for a moment it appeared as if Lex had triumphed after all. It hardly seemed possible; finally, after so many years, the struggle between the Houses of Luthor and Queen was finally at an end. He never thought that it would end like this, however, with Lex passing away in the prison he had created to contain him. Somehow he had always thought that the end would be more dramatic, that they would cross swords one final time before good triumphed over evil. This – this seemed so prosaic, so anti-climactic. And as he stood there, staring out over the city that they had fought over, he experienced an emotion he had not expected - a pang of guilt. He didn't know why – perhaps it was the shock of his rival's death, perhaps it was Clark's reaction to the news, but he suddenly felt empty inside, as if something had died with Lex, something that was a part of him. It was crazy, he knew – Lex had tried to kill him, and his head was telling him AC was right, he had got what he deserved. But his heart told him something different, and for some reason he could not shake from his mind the image of Lex as he was at Excelsior; so needy, so desperate for acceptance. If he'd handled things differently all those years ago, offered him the hand of friendship rather than being the spoilt rich kid who thought it was cool to pick on the nerdy geek, then maybe things would have been different, maybe he wouldn't be standing here now...

Suddenly he turned away from the window, dismissing these thoughts from his mind. He couldn't go back and change things, so there was no point in dwelling on what ifs. Lex was dead, and a chapter of his life was over. He needed to look to the future, a future which promised so much...

He looked across at the door which led to Chloe's room. She was alive – that was really all that mattered. And now, with Lex and Jimmy dead, there really was nothing left to stand in their way. They had suffered so much, but still their love had survived; indeed, with every test it had grown stronger, not weaker.

He would make her his wife, and they would live happily ever after; this fairy tale really was going to come true after all.

Mike Wood moved hesitantly forwards, trying to follow the track with the beam of his flashlight. He'd walked down this path just hours earlier, but then it had been light; the thick canopy of the trees above had made that journey a gloomy one, but that was nothing compared to the pitch black which now surrounded him. There was a moon, but none of its light penetrated here; all was darkness, menacing and filled with foreboding. To Mike, it was an atmosphere that seemed all too appropriate, a metaphor for how his life had been turned upside down by the events of the last thirty-six hours.

His leg caught on a fallen branch, causing him to stumble a little. He cursed, and then heard the voice that he had come to fear so much in the previous hours.

"Careful there, Mike – remember, I promised to return you back to Nikki in one piece."

The voice belonged to a woman. It was measured, calculating, but not without a hint of mockery to it. Mike did not need to turn around to know that she was staring at him now, her eyes filled with a sense of detached amusement. This was all a game to her, of course – a source of entertainment. But there was nothing amusing about the gun that he knew was clasped in her right hand, trained directly at his heart; nor was there anything funny about the man who at this very moment held his girlfriend at knifepoint back at their apartment. No, this was no game – this was deadly serious.

Nikki's face flashed into his head. He thought of her beautiful smile, of the days they had spent together down by the lake. They both loved the outdoors, and this posting to North Dakota had seemed like a dream come true a few months earlier. They'd gone mountain biking together, exploring the wilderness and all the time growing closer and closer to each other. He was on the point of asking her to marry him, but that all seemed like another world now. As he continued to move forwards into the blackness the image of her smiling face morphed into something else, something far more terrifying; a picture of Nikki as he had left her back at the apartment, her face wracked with terror as the man who now held her captive pressed the edge of his blade against her neck.

His gut turned over as he recalled that awful image. How scared must she be now? It was all too much for him to bear, a nightmare that he wished would come to an end. Her life was at stake, and so he'd had no choice but to do exactly as the woman had told him to do. They'd done their homework, of course; they knew exactly what security clearances he had at Bateman, and how he was one of the few who had access to the most dangerous prisoners of all, Lex Luthor. And he'd done everything they'd wanted; smuggled the capsule into Luthor's cell, sounded the alarm when he'd suffered the seizure, helped Curry and the others bury the body out here in the woods. They hadn't suspected a thing, and Mike had to admit he could understand why; Luthor did indeed appear to be dead. But he knew only too well that the capsule that Lex had swallowed was no suicide pill; the fact that they were now out here in the dead of night only confirmed his worst fears. He was a part of a plot to spring Lex Luthor from prison, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly the beam of his flashlight fell upon a wooden stick, planted firmly into the ground. He halted, aware that his journey had come to an end.

"What is it? Why have you stopped?" said the voice from behind him.

"We're here," Wood replied simply, a hint of uncertainty in his voice; now that he had guided his captors to their destination, he had no idea what would happen next.

"Where is it? Show me," she demanded, now stepping in front of him, accompanied by the two men whose presence made any escape attempt impossible.

Wood gestured to his left. "Over there, about eight feet or so – you'll see where the soil has been moved."

The woman walked to the left, the beam of her flashlight allowing the others to track her movements. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for.

"Ridge, Taylor, get over here and start digging," she ordered, moving back to where Wood was standing, his body tense with fear and unknowing.

"Don't worry, Mike," she said. "It will soon all be over – soon you'll be back with Nikki, just like I promised."

There was something about the way she spoke, something dark and sinister, that made Mike's gut turn over. He had an impending sense that something terrible was about to happen, but he knew that he was powerless to stop it; the gun that the woman continued to train at his heart made sure of that.

It took the two men twenty minutes to dig out the coffin in which Mike, AC and the others had buried Lex just hours before. They prised open the wooden lid, before stepping back, and allowing the woman to take control. As Mike watched he could just make out her taking a syringe from her jacket, before leaning over the coffin. He couldn't see what happened next, but he could guess; whatever was in that syringe was some sort of antidote to whatever Lex had taken to simulate death back in his cell. Eventually she stood up, and for the first time Mike could see that she looked anxious, the studied calm that he had got used to replaced by genuine uncertainty. It was clear that she wasn't sure that this was going to work, and for a few brief seconds Mike hoped against hope that it would indeed fail, and that Lex would not wake up from whatever state he had fallen into. He was to be disappointed, because suddenly there was a rasping sound from inside the coffin, like a man taking a breath having been underwater for hours. Then, like some scene from a black and white horror movie, a figure suddenly sprang up from inside the coffin, eyes wide and unseeing.

Lex Luthor was alive!

Those who stood around all took an involuntary step back, even the woman who presumably knew that this most shocking of resurrections was about to take place visibly shaken by what she had witnessed. For a moment Lex sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead with unblinking eyes. The shock to his system had clearly been immense, and his body was taking time to adjust to its new surroundings, to its return from beyond the grave.

"Mr Luthor, it's me, Tessa – Tessa Cohen," said the woman at last, tentatively breaking the silence as she slowly stepped forward, offering Lex her hand. For a moment he did not respond, but continued to sit, statue-like, his face deathly white in the torchlight. Then, finally, his face turned, his lips curling into a smile that made Mike's blood run cold.

"Good to have you back, sir," said Cohen, returning Lex's smile with one of her own; the relief that she felt at that moment was writ large all over her face.

"It's good to be back, Miss Cohen," replied Lex, taking her hand as he made to stand up. There was something about hearing Lex's voice that seemed even more shocking than his return from the dead; it seemed so normal, just like Mike had heard it for months as he had guarded him in his cell. But now he was free, and he, Mike Wood, had helped to free him; one of the most dangerous criminals in the world, at large because of what he had done.

"And here is Mr Wood, the man who helped me to freedom!" said Lex, his eyes falling on Mike. "But I don't need to call you "Mr" Wood anymore, now do I? Not now I'm a free man."

"Look, I did what you asked. Now please, let me go - let me and Nikki go."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," replied Cohen, aiming her gun once more at Mike's head. "You see we've got an empty coffin here, Mike – and we need someone to put in it."

"Please...please..." begged Mike, recoiling from Cohen's dispassionate gaze. "I did everything you wanted...please! You gave me your word – you said I could see Nikki again if I did what you wanted!"

"But you will see Nikki again, Mike," replied Cohen. "She's waiting for you now – in heaven."

A shot echoed through the trees, and Mike fell to the ground, a bullet hole through his skull.

"Clean this up – I don't want any traces of what took place, understand?" ordered Cohen, gesturing to the two men. She then turned, to find Lex staring upwards. She followed his gaze, to find that he had found a crack in the forest canopy.

"A beautiful sight," said Lex, staring at the stars high above him. "In all those months I was in that cell, I dreamed of this moment – of smelling fresh air, of feeling grass beneath my feet."

"We never gave up searching, sir," replied Cohen.

"I know, I know," said Lex, not taking his eyes from the night sky."And you will be rewarded, Miss Cohen, I promise you – you will be rewarded."

There was silence for a moment. Cohen was eager to get moving, but she knew better than to try to rush her boss into anything; Lex was in charge now, and she was no longer the one giving orders.

"Curry? Where's Curry?" asked Lex eventually, turning to look at her.

"We're tracking him now, sir. He's returned to Metropolis – presumably to tell Oliver Queen about your untimely demise."

Lex smiled. How would Oliver be reacting to news of his death, he wondered? Would he feel any pang of remorse for what he had done to him? Lex doubted it – he doubted it very much. No – he would be feeling relief, relief that at last he had finally got rid of the one man who knew him for what he really was – a shallow, vain playboy, a man who thought himself the hero, but who in reality was nothing more than a terrorist. He'd be dreaming of his future, and how he and Chloe would spend the rest of their lives together.

Enjoy your dreams, Oliver – enjoy them while you can, you smug piece of crap!

For months Lex had waited for this moment, and now, at last, he began to feel the excitement that he had expected would accompany his first taste of freedom. Oliver and his pathetic little band of vigilantes had beaten him once, but they would not defeat him a second time. He had spent hours, days even, thinking of nothing else but how he would destroy them. Cyborg, Impulse, Aquaman – such pathetic, childish names, but how he hated them, how much did he want them to suffer! And they would be made to suffer, suffer in the most terrible way imaginable. Killing Curry would give him particular pleasure – sweet revenge for all the times he had had to stand and endure the surf boy's taunts and fourth grade sense of humour. Yes, the killing of Curry would be especially delicious – a long, lingering, painful death, so ingenious that Lex had surprised himself with his inventiveness.

And then there was Oliver – the Green Arrow himself.

Lex had lost count of how many times he had thought of the man who had imprisoned him during his long months in captivity. Every day, every hour, sometimes even every minute, the face of his adversary had filled his mind. Sometimes it was a memory of Excelsior, the raw recollection of how Oliver and his friends had rejected him; he had so desperately wanted their acceptance, but had been met with only indifference and ridicule. At other times he conjured up an image of the Oliver of today, the billionaire playboy who seemed to have it all; the looks, the money, the love of a woman who was utterly devoted to him. Time and again Queen Industries had outmanoeuvred LuthorCorp, leaving him the wrong end of a bad business deal whilst Oliver had walked away the winner, smiling that smile that Lex had come to loathe with all his being. And then there were those images of Oliver in the leathers of the Green Arrow, bound, helpless and wholly at his mercy. Why hadn't he killed him when he'd had the chance? It would have been so easy – just a bullet to the back of his skull, and all the years of hurt and hatred would have been at an end. But despite everything, despite the fact that Oliver had escaped and turned the tables on him, robbing him of his liberty in some godforsaken prison in the back of beyond, Lex had no regrets. He could recall vividly the rush of adrenalin he'd felt when he had Oliver on his knees before him, the incredible feeling of exhilaration he'd experienced as his torturers had set to work on his captive, breaking him down, layer by layer, until there was almost nothing left. He'd come so close to breaking him – so close he'd almost been able to taste it. He wanted to enjoy those feelings again – he needed to enjoy those feelings again. Such was his obsession with Oliver, destroying him was now like a drug, an addiction; he wanted to feel once more the rush of destroying a man's life so completely that there is nothing left but for him to beg for death.

And he would enjoy those feelings again – he was certain of it.

The months he'd spent in captivity had not been spent brooding on past failures. He'd channelled the anger he felt, the deep hatred he harboured for those who had imprisoned him. And he had planned – how he had planned! Every stage in his plan to destroy the Justice League had been carefully mapped out in his head - every move considered, every counter-move anticipated. The result was something so perfect it almost took Lex's breath away. They would all be made to suffer, but Oliver more than all the others. He would strip him of his wealth, his reputation, his liberty, before finally he would claim his life. And, best of all, Oliver would have no knowledge of how or why it was happening; the great Green Arrow, brought low by forces he could not – would not – understand. At least, not until Lex chose to reveal all – the delivery of the coup de grace, when at last all hope would be lost.

It was brilliant – a plan of such artistry Lex did not believe he would ever be able to surpass it.

And now he was free, and able to put it into effect at last.

He could not wait to begin.

Lex is BACK! You can't keep a good villain down, and I feel a bit like he does at the end of this chapter - I can't wait to get started! A vengeful Lex can only mean bad things for our heroes - VERY bad things...

Hope you enjoyed it. Please, please, please review - feedback has the power to make me very happy, and it doesn't take much to offer a little encouragement.