A/N: This is the last chapter.
Chapter Four
"I don't know how to put this delicately."
"Then don't. What are you talking about?"
"Are you and M'gann having sex?"
"Wait-what?"
"If you are, you should use protection, though who knows, maybe you can't have kids because you're a hybrid or because you two are different species or something. But even so, use condoms for STDs, all right?"
"Clark, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Cadmus told you about sex, right? I don't have to explain that?"
"No! Don't! I know what sex is and I'm not having any! But if I start I promise to use condoms if you shut up!"
Every night after that, while they still sat mostly silent while watching sitcom re-runs, Clark would try to start a conversation of some sort with Conner, before it devolved into what Conner began to call 'sad attempts at parenting' when talking to M'gann or the rest of the team about it.
"Do you know how to catch someone when they're falling?" He asks another night.
"No."
"You can't just fly up into the air and catch them, if you do you'll slice them in half; you have pull them with you, slowing down as you descend. You fall with them.
"I can't fly," Conner tells him, and Clark opens and closes his mouth for a moment before responding. Maybe you will someday, Clark thinks.
"Well, then you ask M'gnn to do it for you I guess," He dumbly suggests instead.
Most of the time they could get in a few moments of real conversations before Clark manages to make things awkward. Clark told him about his job as a reporter, his friends Jimmy and Cat, what Lois and him were investigating. Sometimes he'd talk about the things he did as Superman, and sometimes he would even mention something about growing up in Smallville. But not too often.
Conner mostly complains about classes, which he seems to hate just as much as he hates monkeys, Clark discovers. He talks about the Team and the kids from school. He talked about M'gann the most, until of course Clark tried to give him a sex talk.
On one of those dark nights, Conner asks Clark what would have happened if Clark found him instead of the team.
"I have thought of that."
"And?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" Clark asks, because he doesn't know if he should say but he doesn't want to lie. More than, anything, he hopes that Conner will shake his head and say "never mind."
But the boy looks at him, expectantly. And Clark says those things he shouldn't, the things he assures Conner he's never told a soul.
"Thank you," Conner says in reply as Clark finishes his mumbling.
"For being honest?"
Conner says nothing the rest of the night.
A few nights later, Clark gets a call from Bruce. "Hello?" Clark asks, picking up the phone.
"I'm in Metropolis. Lois says you're not home. Where are you?"
Okay Mom, Clark thinks to himself. "Why?" an irritated Clark asks instead.
"I might need back up in about ten minutes. Zeta records say you're in Happy Harbor. Is there trouble there?" Clark tries to ignore the fact that Bruce is more or less using the Zeta Beam records to stalk him.
"No, no trouble. I'll be there in a minute."
"Wait, are you in the Mountain? Can you wake Robin up and bring him?"
"Robin's injured," Conner interrupts.
"Robin's injured, apparently. Superboy's up."
"Robin's WHAT? Never mind, I'll deal with him later. Bring Superboy. LexCorp building. Five minuets."
Clark hangs up his phone.
"I heard the whole conversation," Conner assures him, tapping his ear and turning off the television. Clark shakes his head.
"I know Batman said to bring you, but Lex is dangerous. We can handle him."
"I know that. Trust me, I do. But he won't let anything happen to me. I'm practically your shield here."
Clark grimaces and shakes his head. "Stay here."
"Look, Clark, I know I messed up the bridge landing, and I went too far with those assassins in Qurac, but I've gotten better, okay? I can help."
"Conner…" Clark begins "You took me down at New Years. I know you've gotten better. This is Lex."
"Which is why I need to come," Conner reasoned before dropping his voice to that of a small whisper "He's my father, Clark. He won't hurt me."
The words pierced Clark like Lex's kryptonite dagger in his skin. "Don't say that."
"What?"
"Don't ever say you're his. Got that? Ever. I can't have that…I can't have a kid with my face looking back at me and telling me he's Lex's son."
"Then who the fuck can I say my father is?" Conner yells, clenching his fists, not caring if he wakes up everyone in the mountain "Lex might be evil; I know that, but he's always been a better father than you have."
"I know that!" Clark snaps back, grabbing Conner's shoulders violently and pulling his face to look at him. For a short moment, fear flashes across Conner's face.
Clark loosens his grip.
"This isn't your fault," Clark says after a moment. "I'm sorry, Conner. I'm so sorry. If you see Lex as your father, then, well it's too late for me to do anything about that."
Conner's silent for a moment before speaking, gathering his thoughts. "If it makes you feel any better, I would have preferred you."
"I know," Clark lets go of Conner's shoulder and grabs his cape from the couch. "I haven't fought along side you before," Clark warns, but Conner knows this all too well.
"Recognized, Superman 01. Recognized Superboy B03"
"You're going to have to do what I say because of that. I don't know your skills to well, and I know it's my fault, but I can't help that now." He continues as they arrive in Metropolis. "Just don't do anything unless I tell you too."
"All right."
"I mean it, Conner, disobey once and I send you home."
"I said all right!" Conner snaps as the two approach Batman. Even with Conner's impressive array of superpowers, Clark doubts the kid could find Bruce without him. Clark himself only barely spots him.
"Batman, what's the status?" Clark asks Bruce, trying to get a read on his mood. He's pissed, but Clark suspects Bruce is madder at Dick than at him right now.
"My source got caught up in some sort of Luthor deal. Thought you would want to help," Clark looks through the building and into Luthor's office to see him, Mercy and a thin, small woman in eveningwear.
"Is your source blonde? Red cocktail dress?" Clark asks. Bruce nods reluctantly. "Is she a friend?"
"I barely know her. I'm just tailing her," Bruce snaps as Conner begins to shift nervously as the three become silent.
"It looks like she's getting up to leave," Clark interrupts after a few minuets; Conner stands up and clenches his fists.
"Should we follow her?" Conner asks.
"Get down and remember what I told you," Clark says a little too forcefully, grabbing towards Conner as if to pull him back to his side. Conner's eyes narrow.
"I was just preparing to storm the place if we have to."
"We're not storming anything, get back down!" Clark exclaims angrily.
"Stop snapping at Superboy, Kal," Batman snarls, pulling himself to full height.
"I'm not snapping at anyone, I'm giving instructions!"
"You need to stop this. Stop taking out what happened to your daughter out on Conner, Clark, or I swear to God," Bruce continues, voice rising slightly. Conner whipping his head around to stare at the two of them again the moment after. Clark silences, shaking his head and clenching his fist slightly.
"She doesn't have anything to do with this," Clark responds after a moment. "Don't bring her into this; that's low and you know it," Conner continues to stare at Clark, tilting his head slightly.
"You have a daughter?" Conner asks quietly when Bruce doesn't respond.
"Lois and I lost a baby about a year ago," Clark explains quickly.
"I'm really sorry," Conner responds in shock after a long moment.
"Don't worry about it, Conner. It was a whole year ago now. Don't think about it."
"All right, I won't," Conner promises.
"Yes, just ignore our problems. That solves everything-"
"Batman, shut up. Superman doesn't want to talk about it."
Silence falls again.
But Conner does think and does worry, because Clark is something to him and if his daughter had been born, maybe she would have been something to Conner too.
The three wait for a very long time, Conner not quite grasping what for, until Batman sighs and calls off the operation.
"It's a bust. Sorry to wake you two up," Batman tells them. "I'm in town for company business until Tuesday; are you and Lois free for lunch, say, Monday?"
"I am," Clark responds "You'll have to text Lois to ask about her though. I don't even remember my own schedule most of the time."
Batman doesn't say goodbye, instead simply disappearing into the night. "Well, that was pointless," Conner muses while Clark stands up and narrows his eyes towards Luthor. The man stares back at him, as if knowing his old friend stood on the roof of a building across from him.
"He knows we're here."
"Is that bad?"
"Not yet-"
Clark cuts off his words mid sentence as a sound wooshes past his ears before impacting with a loud, moist squelch.
"Shit!" Conner yells, shooting up and stumbling backwards. Clark turns to see him standing a foot away, hands cupped around his side, blood pouring down his arms.
A high-pitched beeping floods the rooftop, followed by Luthor's voice "The bullet's made of Kryptonite, Superman. Attempt to remove it and it will release more into his blood stream. Bring him to me and he will be left unharmed."
Conner's blood began spilling onto the ground.
He was bleeding on Luthor's oriental rug within seconds.
"Quicker than I expected," Luthor mused stepping around the broken glass from Superman's quick entrance. He pulls a pair of tweezers from his pocket and stands over Conner, pulling the boy's hands away from the wound. Conner spits in his face.
"Stop that, son. I'm trying to help you," Lex commands, pulling out the bullet and placing it on the ground beside them. "Now-"
Before either can react, Lex unloads a clip into Clark's chest, knocking him to the ground. "-you should know that Conner was never really in any danger. The kryptonite bullet would not deposit anything into his bloodstream; honestly, how would that even work?"
Clark's in too much pain to berate himself for falling for Lex's latest game, instead turning his eyes towards Conner, thanking any deity who listens that he has enough solar exposure to heal the wound even this late into the night.
"What are you playing at, Lex?" Clark gasps, curling into his chest, watching his blood spill across his arms.
"I'm killing you, Clark. Please keep up."
Conner recoils slightly at Clark's name, attempting to pull himself up. "Lex!" He gasps, fingers grazing the hole in his chest where the bullet impacted his skin.
"I'll get to you in a moment," he briskly tells Conner, turning back to Clark.
"Do you love him?" Lex asks the broken and listless man, pinning him to the ground with his knee.
"Why do you care? You'll kill me either way."
"Oh, you're not going to tell me that 'I don't really love Conner like you do'? I'm surprised, to be honest."
Clark chokes on some blood and spits it onto the floor. "What I said sixteen years ago, on the side of that highway when you almost killed that deer. I still believe it, Lex. Every word."
Lex looks into his eyes now, hanging over him so close Clark can hear his ragged breath, adrenaline from the fight not yet subsiding. Clark can't hear his heartbeat anymore (he's too weak), but he can feel Lex's pulse.
Never before has Clark been so utterly terrified.
Terrified because he could die. Lex unloaded too much Kryptonite in his chest; a headshot could take him out for good. Terrified because his child, (their child, rings a terrifying thought he doesn't have then energy to purge right now) watches him dying in from the corner, eyes wide open, staring at the scene unfolding in front of him.
"Look away" Clark tries to say to the boy, whispering in that quiet voice only the two of them can hear. Conner doesn't.
He just can't.
It's too horrifying not to watch.
Conner watches as the closest thing he has to a father is brutally cuffed to the desk, his clothes torn away, Lex searching him for any weapons or tricks for escape.
"Tell me one more thing then. Is he lucky to have me?"
"Yes," Clark sputters, weakly but without delay. Lex pauses in surprise, he and Conner both too shocked to move.
"What are you talking about?" Lex asks.
"He's the only child of mine you'll let live."
Conner tries to move away but Lex turns to him now, kneeling on the ground and placing out his hand for Conner to reach.
"I forgive you for betraying me, Conner," Lex whispers. "Come back here. Imagine what you and I can accomplish together. I'd tell the world you are my son, and we would rule it."
Conner spits on him again.
And while Lex recoils from the pure defiance, Conner grabs his hand, pulling him to the floor. He sprints to Clark, picks him up and, in his last burst of power not touched by the kryptonite, jumps out the window, burning half the road on a city block to slow himself and running. Metropolis isn't safe, he reasons, not sure why, terrified of Lex catching them.
Clark mentioned Smallville, on one of those long, dark nights. Kansas. People there he trusted. He asks his communicator for directions and follows the course across the country.
"Where from here?" Conner asks groggily upon arriving in the small town.
"Down Main Street Right on highway 8," Clark answers, Conner staring at him, not expecting him to actually answer.
"Okay," Conner responds, heading in that direction. A little ways down the highway he notices a farm; the mailbox has the words 'Kent' printed in faded red paint. Conner takes it as a good omen and carries Clark to the door.
He knocks, then he rings the doorbell; eventually, an older woman, nearing seventy probably, answers the door in her bathrobe.
"I'm really sorry to bother you this late, but-"
The woman's eyes widen upon seeing Clark and she gasps slightly. "Oh God," she whispers, before turning inside and yelling "Jonathan! Jonathan, get down here, now!"
She places Clark's arm around her shoulder, helping Conner bring him into the house. They place him on the couch as a man (Jonathan presumably) rushes down the stairs.
Jonathan and the woman drape a blanket around Clark "Kryptonite?" Jonathan asks; Conner nods quickly. He offers Conner a glass of water; the woman is in the other room, on the phone with Lois.
Conner sinks to the floor by the couch, holding the glass to his chest as he tries to think. Part of Clark's chest is exposed; he recognizes the Kryptonite scar and quickly pulls the blanket over him further to hide the ugly, jagged line Lex used to create him.
For the first time, the first time in his life, he cries, leaning against the couch Clark is lying on, wishing Lex had never even created him.
First for his father, for that man will never love him the way Conner does.
And then for himself.
Lex and Clark are both alive, both here, and Conner is still more or less an orphan.
The woman enters the room and reaches out to him, an attempt to comfort or console, but Conner freezes and she backs away. She lets Conner cry himself to sleep.
He wakes up to Lois shaking his shoulder hours later. "Hey, kid. You all right?" She asks, slipping beside him.
"Is he okay?" Conner asks, half asleep. He doesn't hear her answer, instead falling back into slumber.
The old woman wakes them up to pancakes in the morning, leaving Clark on the couch to recover, but serving Lois and him in the kitchen. They are silent for a long time, Conner having time to soak in his surroundings. Old house. Clean, but full of knick-knacks and mementos. Conner notices a picture on wall, a teenager beside the Jonathan and his wife when they were younger; if he didn't know better, he would have thought the kid in the picture was himself.
"Martha, do you think we need to call the League?" Lois asks, sliding the pancakes around her plate with her fork. Martha shakes her head.
"He should be fine, Lois. We've seen worse."
Lois nods in agreement and turns to Conner "You guys were at LexCorp, weren't you?" she asks quietly and shakes her head. "Damn it Lex," she mumbles, pushing the uneaten stack away.
"Conner, do you want something to drink?" Martha asks after a moment. Conner's eyes narrow slightly before Lois speaks up again.
"These guys are Clark's parents. They're safe."
"Oh," Conner responds with all the energy he could muster, "Sorry, I didn't know. No, I don't need anything."
"I'll have a coffee," Lois tells her, getting up and fiddling with the coffeemaker. "Conner, how do you take yours?"
"Um…I don't know. I've only had it a few times."
"That's depressing," Lois deadpans, pouring the black liquid into two mugs. Jonathan chuckles. She keeps the one that says 'Smallville Crows' on it, but adds a splash of milk and sugar to the mug with a faded Bugs Bunny on it and slides it to Conner.
The coffee tastes all right. Conner's phone begins to buzz as the four fall into silence.
"It's Batman," Conner tells them, panicked. Batman rarely sends communications unless it's an emergency.
"Hello?" Conner says into the phone tentatively. A low growl responds.
"Where are you, Superboy?"
"Uh," Conner quickly realizes that Clark promised Batman to bring him back soon. "Smallville?"
"Oh," Batman's voice softens, to Conner's surprise. "All right then, good. We don't need you for today's mission; it's just security detail. Have fun," Batman hangs up the phone.
"How pissed is he?" Lois asks.
"He told me to, ah, have fun?"
The three stare at Conner for a long moment. "Did you tell him you're beating up random people?" Lois asks.
"No?"
"Honestly, kid, I'm just as confused as you are."
Clark wakes up three hours later. Lois and Conner are on the ground, leaning against the couch in his childhood home, talking about…something. Her work, or his school maybe.
Half of him wants to pull the kid into his arms and promise him that he'll take care of him and the other half wants to run away and never see him again. He compromises sliding between them and placing an arm around Conner's shoulder, feeling too close and too distant all at once.
"Are you all right?" Clark asks.
"I hate Lex," Conner mumbles in response.
"Yeah. I hate him too," Clark agrees, turning to his wife and smiling for the first time in days. His mother hands the three of them each a mug while he notices his father siting in the old armchair and furtively examining Conner. "I'll try to be a better father now, okay?" he whispers, so quietly only the other Kryptonian can hear.
"I never really needed you," Conner responds after a moment, just as quietly. "Don't worry about me too much," And with a start, Clark heard the real message. I forgive you. I understand. Let me help you.
Clark holds Conner against the place in his side where Lex cut a long gash in his side nearly a year ago.
"Thanks for taking care of us," Clark says, pulling his mother into a hug.
"Visit more often, okay Clark? You too, Conner," Clark's mother lets go of him and embraces Conner as well, and while he doesn't quite know how to react, he appreciates it all the same.
Clark takes Lois back to Metropolis before accompanying Conner back to the Mountain. Batman and the team are inside debriefing.
"Oh hey, deserter's back," Wally jokes, swallowing a Lightspeed bar and wagging the rapper at Conner. "Want one? It's your favorite flavor, Monkey C-"
"No."
"I thought you two were in Smallville," Bruce asks them, eyes narrowing and turning to Clark, probably noticing how absolutely dreadful he looks.
"We had some more trouble with Luthor than originally thought."
"In Smallville?"
"No, in Metropolis," Clark snaps at Bruce. "Then we went to Smallville. I'll see you later this week, okay Conner?"
"Yeah, see you," Conner responds, twitching his hand in a motion implying a small wave as Clark tries to leave as quickly as possible.
"How was…whatever just happened?" Wally asks, flopping onto the couch next to Robin, who's wearing civvies and an arm brace. "Did you guys finally get enough to nail him for something?"
"No," Conner sits on the floor, watching the others pull out a video game and begin to play.
Do you want to talk about it? M'gaan asks in his head. He flinches slightly, and then calms himself. She wants to make sure he's okay without letting the others know. It's okay. She's being kind.
All the same, he doesn't want to talk to her about it.
No, he thinks back.
Batman doesn't ask if he wants to talk, instead pulling him aside and forcing it anyway.
"I know you and Clark have been speaking with each other. You see each other everyday."
Conner holds back the tiniest smirk. "Got that from the security cameras, I guess. He told me he doesn't talk to you about me," Batman held his blank expression.
"What do you talk about."
"I dunno."
"I see from the video that you two talk," Batman presses
"School and stuff, okay?" Conner snaps slightly. "What's on the TV, what's on the news. Once he tried to give me a sex talk; that went as well as you'd expect. Nothing of interest."
Conner quickly frees himself from Batman and joins his friends on the couch
Clark comes to see him that night. He switches the channel and sits next to Conner like every other night that month.
They don't talk about what happened at LexCorp, or anything else for that matter. At least for a little while.
"Batman asked me what we talk about,"
"What did you say?"
"I told him it's none of his business."
Clark smiles sadly and shakes his head. "He last saw his parents when he was eight, you know. They were murdered. Right in front of him."
"I didn't. Why are you telling me this?"
"Why do you think?"
Eventually Clark reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. He stuffs it into Conner's hands. "This is Lena Summer's address."
"Who's she?"
"I think you can trust her."
On a hunch, Conner pulls out his phone and finds a message in his Facebook inbox ('hey') he thought must have been a mistake when he received it. The red haired girl smiled at him from across cyberspace. He asked her 'what's up?' and put the phone away before trying to talk again.
"I know you told me not to think about it, but-" Conner stumbles over his words for a few moments before gathering his footing and speaking in a rushed tone "If you could chose between me and-"
"Don't," Clark cuts him off, whipping his head to him. "Don't say that, don't think that. Ever. All right? There was never a choice between you two, don't torture yourself choices that would have never happened."
"Don't tell me it wouldn't have been better-"
"I would have wanted my daughter to grow up with an older brother who loved her and would have taken care of her if something happened to Lois and I. If I could take how I treated you back I would, Conner, I swear."
"How close were Lex and you?"
Clark never wants to think about Lex again. He doesn't want to give Conner the truth, or even tell Conner he has an older sister in the same grade as him. Conner's his, and every one of those answers would be admitting he's Lex's too. But he answers because he knows Conner deserves it, and he lost the chance to create a good truth for him seven months ago. "He was my very best friend," Clark begins, trying to convince himself that this pain of remembering Lex is less than nothing in comparison to what he put Conner through. "I thought he was a good man. Maybe then he was."
Conner puzzles over Clark's remarks for a brief moment before daring to ask his last question. "What did you tell him?"
"What?"
"You didn't just tell him any kid would be lucky to have him for a father, did you? You said something else, on that night you two were talking about."
The show ends. Clark turns off the TV and gets up to leave.
For a moment, Clark Kent is back on the floor of the Fortress of Solitude at midnight on the Fourth of July. He's staring at Conner's DNA results and feels a jolt at the bottom of his stomach and his empty arms ache, needing someone to grab onto. Then he's a fifteen year old boy in Kansas, and he's promising his friend, his confidant, the closest thing he ever has had and ever will have to a brother the promise he can barely bring himself to show but has always kept.
"I do love you, Conner. I always did, from the very beginning. I swear."
I heard the call late into the night, mumbled words on the other side of a cell phone. Superman found out about Cadmus.
Clark's lying on the table, cape grasped around him like a blanket, holding the tiny child to his chest. I reach over and stroke his hair, pulling strands out of his face. A genomorph is holding his brain in a state of flex nearby.
His eyes flutter open; "Where am I?"
I smile and continue running my fingers across the child's cheekbone. "You don't remember? I suspected temporary amnesia would be a side effect of the procedure I used to revive you, though I had hoped it would not," Clark turns his head slightly, first to me and then the little boy in his arms.
"Keep him asleep," I order softly. "I'm Lex Luthor, your best friend. You really don't remember me?" Clark shakes his head and I slide my hand to his shoulder and sigh. It's working; the Light can use him for their needs, and I can use him for mine. His memories are nothing but what I shape them to be, as all he remembers is that my voice, once, long ago, belonged to the one person he trusted more than anyone else on the planet "Explaining this…you need to know, Clark - that's your name, it's Clark - you need to know, but it will be hard for you to hear and understand.
"A man named Paul Westfield started all this. He though it was for the good of the world. I'll explain his reasoning again to you when you're more awake, conscience enough to understand the science. In the end I couldn't stop him; no matter what he would have done it - will you trust me, Clark?" The lies slip from my tongue, cascading across the room and because Clark's so defeated, so weak and his mind is so empty he believes them. I can see it in his eyes, his muscles relaxing ever so slightly, the unconscious memory of our broken trust.
I move my hand to the boy's head and unknot his hair. "But a true clone wouldn't work, and again I will explain when you're alert, but it was determined that the clone needed half of your meta-human DNA, half of a normal man. Westfield wanted to use his own, but he's mad, Clark! He's actually insane! He would never love…" I trail off and watch Clark's eyes lead to the boy buried in his chest.
"You replaced it with your own?" Clark chokes out, the first words he's spoken upon waking, placing my puzzle pieces in sequence just as I predicted.
"It's strange, I know. But if I couldn't stop his creation, at least I could give him a chance. Create a child who would be loved by both his parents, not controlled and abused by one and kept from the other," I conjure the needed tears and then hold them back. "I'll keep you and him safe, Clark. You're my oldest friend, and he's-" I break off, holding my hand to my mouth and swallowing, just in time to hide the smile creeping across my face.
"What's his name?" Clark asks as the boy stirs in his arms, and before I have to think up an answer, tell him I've barely seen the boy myself, that Westfield's kept him from me, Clark thankfully gets distracted, sitting as the boy stretches.
"Hey, kiddo," Clark tells the boy as the two stare at each other. "It's me. Remember me?" Clark holds the child's head in his palm. "How old his he, Lex?"
"He's been subjugated to accelerated growth cycles. Physically, mentally and emotionally he's the equivalent of a two year old. He's barely met you."
The boy reaches for the cape and examines it. "You can trust me, okay? You can trust Lex and I."
The child smiles at Clark and whispers, very, very quietly "Superman?"
"That's also you," I tell Clark, and he nods at the boy.
"Yeah, yeah that's me," he tells the boy nervously before steadying himself on the gurney. "God," he gasps under his breath, pulling one hand tighter around the boy and clenching the other hand around the metal, nearly crushing it.
"Go back to sleep," I tell him, carefully pushing him back down. The boy's eyes widen in fear; I reach for his head and stroke his hair slightly. "Your Dad's going to be fine," I tell the boy as I kneel to his eye length. "Say goodnight."
The boy nervously turns to Clark and then to me before whispering "Goodnight," very quietly. I wait for them to fall back asleep before I pick the boy up and leave the room, carrying him back to his pod. The test on Clark's mind worked.
Clark awakens and escapes, regaining his most of his memories (though, as a saving grace, not the ones of tonight, never, as long as he lives, the ones of tonight).
"Fuck!" I scream, throwing a glass vial against the door.
I had him. He took every phrase of mine like gospel, drank every word like wine. And I'll never bring him to that place again. He'll never return to me.
There's only one option now, and it breaks me.
I never wanted to kill my best friend.
Clark and I could have ruled the world.
And yet he haunts me by his very existence.
No matter.
I watch the child breathe in and out through the window in his pod, his rhythm calming my nerves, the last piece of Clark Kent, Superman, my one equal, still pure and untainted.
I have something better.
Author's Note:
"Gethsemane" is the name of the garden were, according to the Christian Bible, Jesus prayed the night before he was executed and where, ultimately, Judas performed the "ultimate betrayal" and turned Jesus over to the Romans, who then painfully and horribly executed him. I named the story after that place because, in Lex's eyes, what Clark did to him by ending their friendship was also the "ultimate betrayal". In addition, many Superman stories are based in a Christ allegory (Superman and Jesus both being "saviors" from otherworldly realms who live among us, but are not quite like us, blah, blah, blah), which I purposefully perverted and inverted in this work. Here, Lex Luthor, instead of being in opposition to Christ (the devil, in a way) is, in his eyes, a "God amongst Men". Lex creates life through the Cadmus experiments (he's "playing God"). His thoughts are written in first person, while the rest of the story is written in third person omniscient (the "god tense"). He even "sacrifices" his son by letting him live amongst the Justice League.
In layman's terms, Lex has gone cuckoo bananas and has an inflated sense of self importance. He thinks he's saving the world by ruling it, when instead he's just fucking evil.
That's just the theological side of this story, however.
I didn't write this story to teach you losers about the bible. I grew up Christian but am now largely a-religious, so I don't care if anyone understands the bible religious stuff. Initially, I just kind of thought up this story after watching Young Justice and also writing a spec pilot about clones in the same time period (pilot still not finished, but useless non-money making fan fic is, so yay?) and my pilot thoughts bled into my young justice thoughts and POOF I shat out this story. Back then, it was just a story, without themes or imagery or anything. But then it morphed into something different.
To be crass, this story is an allegory for rape.
What happened to Clark and Lois on "that day last February" was not actually "rape" of course (rape, by my definition, is forcing someone to have sexual intercourse), but is a form of sexual assault. And how the other characters treat Clark in regards to the consequences of that night are how many sexual assault and rape victims are treated. Bruce acts how a normal person would - IF this entire thing was consensual. The girl he was dating when, if he was a normal kid, Conner would have been conceived assumes the worse from him without giving him a chance to explain himself. Bibbo actually sympathizes with him, but it costs Clark his masculinity. And et cetera.
So yeah, if you thought parts of this sounded like sexual assault, that was on purpose. I'm not def not the first to draw this comparison, but I am the only one to do it to MY unique specifications :D I hope you…is enjoyed the right word? I hope you found reading this an experience worth having. Expect the aforementioned sequel around Christmas or Spring Break. It's shorter and mostly written, but I need a University break to edit it properly.
