"Can you remember anything of what happened?" I slipped my free hand into my trouser pocket where I opened, slightly, the lead container. Clark frowned and shook his head.
"You said something about falling, about something hurting you, and about people not helping. Does that ring any bells?" He shook his head again, a shadow of pain crossing his face. Time had been kind to his face if not his heart; only hint of a furrow on his brow showed time's touch. I pressed his hand more firmly and closed the container fully.
"How long have I...been out?"
"Just a few hours." I looked away. "But for a while there, I thought we were going to lose you." His eyes looked guilty as my voice cracked. "I...I called your parents to tell them you were...here, but your father hung up on me. If you call them, they'd probably appreciate it." I handed him my cell phone and he looked surprised.
"Nobody's answering." Well, no wonder, I'd programmed the phone that way.
"You can try again later." I shook my head as he reached to give the phone back. "Keep it, there are probably other people who want to know you're safe. But Clark...be careful about who you tell you're...vulnerable." I looked deep into his eyes, which showed no signs of perturbation. But Luthors are good at polluting and disturbing even the most tranquil waters, in all possible senses.
"I trust my friends," he said, steadily.
"But be careful. You never know who might want to know too much, or say too much." Unspoken words and names hovered. Let those ghosts whisper to him later, when he is alone. I lightened my voice. "Do you want to shower?"
There was still so much teenage boy in him--I saw him trying to sniff the air, and I chuckled. "Don't worry, the people in the office are just complaining so far, not rioting." It earned a tentative smile. "You're odor-free, but I thought you might feel better. We can go up to the penthouse. I just remodeled, so it's state-of-the-art showering." I smiled faintly. I'd done some structural remodeling up there for his benefit.
"Maybe later."
"Tired?" With all the sedatives I'd pumped into him, it would have been surprising if he wasn't. I'd been apprehensive about the amounts. I was able to face a deliberate death with eqanimity, if regret, but to destroy him through a miscalculation would be deplorable.
"A bit." He smiled self-consciously after a huge, almost cat-like yawn.
"I'll be right here if you need anything." I looked away. "That is...if you want me to stay." I've never failed to be amused by the contrast between an invulnerable body and a heart whose strings flap about for anybody to tug. He winced and I could tell what was going on in his mind, "Even mortal enemies have feelings that can be hurt, and hurting people's feelings is bad."
I couldn't turn him into an unfeeling tool; even once he's mine, I'll have to meet his natural requirements of kittens in trees and children in tunnels and victims of natural disaster to rescue. A Hallmark hero.
He hesitated and I got up. "That's okay. Push four on the phone's speed dial if you need anything, that rings my office." Guilt poured over his face and I walked out before he could ask me to stay. He'd marinate nicely. Outside, I coded the panels to delay two minutes, then open intermittently, to varying degrees.
"You said something about falling, about something hurting you, and about people not helping. Does that ring any bells?" He shook his head again, a shadow of pain crossing his face. Time had been kind to his face if not his heart; only hint of a furrow on his brow showed time's touch. I pressed his hand more firmly and closed the container fully.
"How long have I...been out?"
"Just a few hours." I looked away. "But for a while there, I thought we were going to lose you." His eyes looked guilty as my voice cracked. "I...I called your parents to tell them you were...here, but your father hung up on me. If you call them, they'd probably appreciate it." I handed him my cell phone and he looked surprised.
"Nobody's answering." Well, no wonder, I'd programmed the phone that way.
"You can try again later." I shook my head as he reached to give the phone back. "Keep it, there are probably other people who want to know you're safe. But Clark...be careful about who you tell you're...vulnerable." I looked deep into his eyes, which showed no signs of perturbation. But Luthors are good at polluting and disturbing even the most tranquil waters, in all possible senses.
"I trust my friends," he said, steadily.
"But be careful. You never know who might want to know too much, or say too much." Unspoken words and names hovered. Let those ghosts whisper to him later, when he is alone. I lightened my voice. "Do you want to shower?"
There was still so much teenage boy in him--I saw him trying to sniff the air, and I chuckled. "Don't worry, the people in the office are just complaining so far, not rioting." It earned a tentative smile. "You're odor-free, but I thought you might feel better. We can go up to the penthouse. I just remodeled, so it's state-of-the-art showering." I smiled faintly. I'd done some structural remodeling up there for his benefit.
"Maybe later."
"Tired?" With all the sedatives I'd pumped into him, it would have been surprising if he wasn't. I'd been apprehensive about the amounts. I was able to face a deliberate death with eqanimity, if regret, but to destroy him through a miscalculation would be deplorable.
"A bit." He smiled self-consciously after a huge, almost cat-like yawn.
"I'll be right here if you need anything." I looked away. "That is...if you want me to stay." I've never failed to be amused by the contrast between an invulnerable body and a heart whose strings flap about for anybody to tug. He winced and I could tell what was going on in his mind, "Even mortal enemies have feelings that can be hurt, and hurting people's feelings is bad."
I couldn't turn him into an unfeeling tool; even once he's mine, I'll have to meet his natural requirements of kittens in trees and children in tunnels and victims of natural disaster to rescue. A Hallmark hero.
He hesitated and I got up. "That's okay. Push four on the phone's speed dial if you need anything, that rings my office." Guilt poured over his face and I walked out before he could ask me to stay. He'd marinate nicely. Outside, I coded the panels to delay two minutes, then open intermittently, to varying degrees.