****
Wrapping his robe firmly about his waist, Edward moved stiffly, down the hallway towards the faint sliver of light that shone through Mr. Luthor's office door. The door was slightly ajar, unusual in itself as Mr. Luthor was meticulous about closing doors, particularly to his office. It was not Edward's custom to question Mr. Luthor's activities, but the young man was not due to arrive until sometime later today. It was now almost 4 AM. Appearing before his employer in his robe was also unconventional, but Edward had not wanted to waste time dressing. He had been with the Luthor family too many years not to be concerned about young Lex. Although life here in Smallville was less frantic than in Metropolis, there were always surprises. Like the cryptic phone call they had received last night. Only a single word was spoken. "Lex?" in a questioning tone. The housekeeper had taken the call. She thought the voice belonged to Lionel Luthor, but she could not be sure. When she replied that young Luthor had not yet returned to Smallville, the caller hung up without a message.
Most of the servants in employ of the Luthor family had learned to turn away from the unpleasantness that sometimes characterized the family. Invisible service was their motto, but because Edward had been employed by the family for over thirty-five years he was often bolder than he should be. He had become part of the Luthor household when Alexandra, Lex's mother, had married Lionel. As her personal servant he had been granted more leeway than most. He had stayed on after her death, half out of pity for the young man who was now his employer. He had watched Lex grow from a cheerful child, into a rebellious teen in the years following his mother's death. Edward hoped his presence, the only constant in the youngster's turbulent life, had helped Lex mature into the confident young man he had become. He was about to find out just how far he could push Lex's trust.
Knocking on the heavy door, Edward waited for a reply from within. When there was none he knocked again. He heard the unmistakable tinkle of crystal against crystal, and a soft shuffling sound. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed the door. It swung silently open, no creaking doors in the Luthor castle. He smiled at the non sequitor.
"Mr. Luthor," Edward said standing stiffly at attention despite his unusual attire.
Lex's back was to the door. The only light came from the gas fireplace and it barely illuminated the cavernous room. Edward watched as Lex tipped a tumbler of liquor to his lips. Without turning he said, "Isn't it late for you to be up, Edward?"
Edward expected a reprimanding tone, but was surprised to hear only exhaustion touched with something he could not quite put his finger on.
"Not late, sir. It's actually early. Only an hour earlier than I normally rise. I heard you pull in and since you were earlier than expected I thought I would see if you needed anything." A feeble lie, the old man thought.
"You don't hear a Porsche through stone walls, Edward. You were waiting up for me. What time is it?"
Edward did not like the sound of the young man's voice. "It is almost 4 AM, sir," Edward responded moving a few steps closer, carefully observing Lex as he did so. It had been some time since young Luthor had gotten into serious difficulties, yet he appeared to be strained. His shoulders were unusually straight and taut. He had not moved from his spot near the liquor cabinet. Deciding he couldn't possibly get himself into more trouble than he already had, Edward pushed boldly on, "Are you all right, Mr. Luthor? We didn't expect you until late morning, and you seem--"
"I'm fine, Edward," Lex interrupted. "Fine."
But Edward now stood close enough to know that all was not fine. He could see the smudges of dirt on Lex's shoes and clothes, the white knuckles of the hand gripping the side of the liquor cabinet for support, and the other trembling hand that held the tumbler of amber liquid.
"Master Lex," Edward said in alarm, falling back on the old diminutive he had stopped using when Lex became a teenager.
Lex's head snapped toward him in response, before turning back to the fire, but in that brief second Edward read all he needed to read. Lex's normally pale skin was ghostly white. Dark smudges shadowing pain filled eyes, conveyed more than any words.
"Mr. Luthor," Edward said, placing a comforting hand on the youngster's shoulder. The touch was light, but Lex flinched and raised his had to brush aside the offending contact, for a brief second letting down his guard. A second was all the old servant needed. Lex Luthor was more than simply disheveled and exhausted. He was injured. His shirt was in disarray, the pale blue silk smudged with dirt, and stained with blood-tinged sweat. "What happened, sir?"
"Nothing."
"I may be an old fool, but you can't convince me that 'nothing' has happened. I am your trusted servant, Edward, remember?" The old man's voice softened. "I've been bandaging your skinned knees and cut fingers for as long as either of us can remember. If you need a doctor, I will arrange for a doctor."
"No!" Lex said vehemently, a flicker of anger entering his voice. "No, doctor." He paused, obviously composing himself. "A hot shower and I'll be okay."
Edward paused, wanting to press for more details, but afraid to alienate his young employer further. Now was the time for caution, and perhaps a bit of invisibility. "I will prepare your bath, and return for you." Edward backed out of the room before Lex could protest, and moved as quickly as his old bones would allow to Lex's private bath. He was seriously concerned about the young man's well-being.
****
Lex leaned heavily against the fireplace mantle, allowing his mind to drift, wondering how he had managed to be caught so completely off guard, but barely able to think through the pain. He was startled when, once again, he felt a hand, this time upon his arm. He opened his eyes, looking into the worried face of Edward. The old man's loyalty was faultless, and Lex couldn't help being grateful for his kindness. Genuine kindness, borne of concern, not 'required by the job description.'
Lex nodded at the old man wordlessly then walked gingerly from the room, trying not to shift his shoulders or back any more than necessary. The walk to his bathroom seemed interminable, laced with pain and shaking knees, which he tried to hide from the old man behind him, doubting the whole time that he was hiding anything. Luthors don't show any weakness. He could hear his father's voice admonishing him even now. Go to Hell, Father, he thought bitterly. And not for the first time he wondered if his father was behind the whole twisted incident.
****
Edward followed Lex down the hallway to the door of his bathroom pretending not to notice his stumbling gate or his tightly clenched fists. But he did notice. He was all too aware of the pain so poorly disguised by the extreme posture. Normally he would have backed off, but he felt obligated to make sure Lex was going to be all right. Standing just inside the doorway he waited.
"You can leave now," Lex said tersely through clenched teeth.
"No."
Lex turned slowly as though he did not understand what he had just heard.
"No, sir," Edward repeated. "You are obviously injured. I would be remiss in my duties to you, and to your mother, if I were to turn my back on you when you were so obviously in need. You know I am discreet. If you do not wish to discuss this incident, it will go no further than here. But you need assistance, Mr. Luthor."
For a moment, Edward thought Lex was going to force him to leave. His face darkened, but he seemed more embarrassed than angry. Finally, his face reflected the resignation he felt, and in that concession, Edward saw a glimmer of relief. It had been many years since the younger Luthor had leaned on any adult.
Edward stepped forward, and gently turned Lex around, steadying him as he did so. Carefully, he slipped the soiled suit jacket from his shoulders. Lex hissed through his teeth as the jacket brushed down his back. The pale blue shirt beneath was stained and torn, the faintest trace of blood marred its surface.
Edward carefully folded the jacket and set it aside to be cleaned.
"Burn them," Lex said abruptly.
"Burn, sir? They can be cleaned."
"Burn them."
Waiting until the young man had unbuttoned his shirt, Edward slowly eased the soiled raiments from Lex's body. It was Edward's turn to gasp in shock. Livid red welts criss-crossed Lex's back and chest, punctuated by darkening bruises.
"What happened?" Edward blurted.
"Chance encounter with someone who doesn't like Luthors."
"Did you--?"
"Piss anyone off?" Lex responded through clenched teeth. "No. Not last night anyway. Not that I know of." Lex's voice faded.
"Master Lex, I wish you would re-consider the doctor."
"No." The single word was barely a whisper.
"Then perhaps we should contact the police."
"No."
"Master Luthor, these injuries are nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to hide." Edward persisted "You were the innocent victim of an unprovoked attack."
Lex snickered. "Innocent? Hardly. Victim? Perhaps. Unprovoked? Nothing that happens in the Luthor sphere is ever unprovoked. There is always a reason. Always a plan." Lex shook his head, bitterness in his voice when he finally spoke. "No. Whoever arranged to have this done has already covered his tracks. Paid off the police and the press." Not for the first time Lex wondered where the photographs would appear. "We'd never find him."
"You can't be sure," Edward persisted.
"Yes I can. It's exactly what I would do."
"Then let me contact your fath--"
"NO!" Lex's answer was far more vehement this time.
Edward could almost read Lex's mind. "Certainly you don't think your father had anything to do with this?" He asked, finding himself in the unenviable position of defending Lionel Luthor.
"Nothing is impossible." Lex's shoulders slumped forward, and then he moved them backward with infinite care. "I can handle the rest, Edward." He turned toward his servant with a grim smile. "I'm not completely incapacitated."
Edward nodded. Turning aside, he busied himself with searching for an appropriate dressing to treat and bandage Lex's injuries, though, like an injured bobcat, Edward imagined his young master would quite probably retreat to lick his wounds in private. The old man found his hands trembling as he worked, submitting to his own outrage at what had been done. No one deserved to be treated in such a fashion. At last he heard the click of the shower door latching, heard the soft intake of breath as the steaming, needle spray hit abused skin. One thing was certain to the old man. He was, perhaps, the only one who was allowed to care.
****
Lex grated his teeth as the sharp needle spray of the shower contacted the criss cross of welts that laced his skin. He wanted to withdraw from the stinging contact of the steaming water, and at the same time felt compelled to suffer the additional torment of the biting heat against his abused flesh. As though he hoped the water alone would cleanse the despair from his soul and the pain from his body. He had never been so humiliated. The faceless men who had attacked him had stripped from him part of his sense of self. Oh, it could have been worse, he could easily have been raped. He sensed the desire in the gang leader to do exactly that. He silently thanked powers he did not believe in that the assault had stopped short of being sexual. Leaning his head against the tile of the shower wall and allowing the water to wash down his back his mind drifted. Once again he wondered how he had lost control. Despite what he had said to Edward he would find out who was behind this even if it was dear old Dad.
In the meantime he needed to deal with the ugliness of the memory itself, before the memory took possession of his soul. And that meant reliving each miserable step.
****
(End Part Two)