As his investigation progressed, Lex found himself adding more and more reasons to the mental list of why he hated his father. Capturing and torturing his best friend was the latest addition, and it sat right beneath faking his wife's death and modifying her memory while leaving him to take the blame. Discovering Lionel's involvement hadn't taken much digging if you already knew where to look. Lex had yet to find the tangible proof he needed – wanted – but he'd found bits and pieces of a trail Lionel had worked very hard to cover. He'd been successful for the most part. Lex's evidence was largely conjecture and broken stories from scientists who couldn't remember the two months they spent working in a LuthorCorp lab three years prior.
He didn't need hard proof though. He knew his father better than the man gave him credit for. This offence would be added to a long list of others Lionel had committed, and when the time was right Lex would see that Lionel was taught a lesson he would never forget.
o o o o o
Clark woke from the nightmare gasping for breath and fighting the sheets that had wrapped around his limbs. With a ripping noise that sounded impossibly loud in the silence of the farm house, Clark freed himself and landed face first on the floor beside his bed.
He lay there for a few seconds as he tried to get his breathing under control. Closing his eyes, Clark attempted to call up the images from his dream. He'd seen a face. He'd seen the face. But like every other dream, it was gone within moments of waking.
With a frustrated groan, Clark pushed himself back up onto the bed and kicked the torn sheets to the end. He lay flat on his back with his arms crossed above his head and drew in several slow, deep breaths. It was the nightmares that had prompted him to let Lex investigate his disappearance, and a part of him held out hope that just knowing Lex was looking would be enough to let him sleep. It wasn't, however, and Lex hadn't come up with any information yet.
Clark sighed and flipped onto his side, glaring at his alarm clock as the numbers slid from 2:59 to 3:00. There was no way he'd be falling back asleep anytime soon. He pushed himself upright and dropped his feet to the floor. A few minutes later he was dressed and walking down a Metropolis street to the 24 hour diner three blocks away from the Planet. At any given time of the day or night it was likely there would be at least one Daily Planet reporter hunched over a laptop or a cup of coffee, and that night wasn't much different. Clark nodded to three guys he recognized from Archives seated at a corner booth and lodging complaints with each other about how boring their department was. They waved back and returned to their conversation as Clark took a seat at the counter and ordered a coffee.
He'd been sitting there for about twenty minutes when he heard the scream. His head shot up and he looked around the diner; no one else had heard. The scream came again and Clark flipped into x-ray vision as he tossed a few dollar bills on the counter and made his way outside. Once out of sight, Clark sped up and covered in seconds the four blocks between the diner and a back alley where two men were attacking a woman.
"Hey!" he shouted, moving forward to grab the one who was trying to slip a hand beneath the woman's skirt. He pulled and the man went flying backwards into a nearby dumpster. The other guy looked from the dumpster to Clark and back before taking off at a run. Clark caught up easily and sent him to the ground with a tap to the back of his head.
Clark went back to the woman, who had crumpled to the ground in tears. "Are you alright?" he asked, approaching slowly with his hands held up in front of him chest, palms facing out. "Did they hurt you?"
She looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. "You – are they-? Thank you." Her voice hitched on a sob. "Thank you."
"Anna?" a voice called from the street.
"Jamie!"
A tall, thin man appeared framed by the brick walls of the buildings surrounding the alley. "Oh thank god. What happened? Are you hurt?"
"No, he stopped them." She gestured to where Clark had been standing, but he was gone. "Where did he go? He was right –"
Jamie reached her and pulled her against his chest. "C'mon, let's get you out of here before these guys wake up."
Clark watched from down the street as they climbed into a nearby car and headed around the corner in the direction of the local precinct.
o o o o o
"What's with you lately, Smallville?" Lois sat down in the empty chair across the kitchen island. "You've been brooding."
"I haven't been brooding."
"I hate to agree with Lois, but you have been." Chloe sat down next to him. She'd seen the write ups in the Planet over the last four or five months; mysterious rescues and random acts of kindness by an anonymous "Good Samaritan." She knew what he was doing, and she knew he wasn't taking care of himself while he did it.
"I'm fine. Everything's fine."
"Wait, why do you hate to agree with me?"
"It's just an expression, Lo."
Lois arched an eyebrow at her cousin before turning back to Clark. "Come on Smallville, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep."
"There's a difference between being tired and being broody, but whatever, we're not going to sit around and force share time. Now let's go, we've got a press conference this afternoon in Metropolis."
"I write the celebrity 'news'. I don't see the logic in sending me to this thing, too."
"Because Bruce Wayne is a celebrity. Get a move on, I don't want to get stuck in the back."
o o o o o
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's skip the preliminaries, shall we? As of noon today, Wayne enterprise has become the new owner of The Daily Planet." Bruce Wayne paused long enough to allow the immediate buzz of questions to die down before continuing to talk. "The Daily Planet is one of Metropolis's oldest and finest news sources, and it is an honour for Wayne Enterprise to be a part of its development going forward. There will be some changes taking place, but I can assure you that the paper will only rise to new heights because of them.
"The first of these changes is a new face at the helm. As some of you may already know, The Daily Planet is losing its Editor in Chief to the New York Times at the end of this month, and his replacement has yet to be named. Stepping in to take his place will be Perry White. Mr. White is a legend in this business, and I am confident that he will do many great things with and for this paper.
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time. Unfortunately I have to return to Gotham City for another engagement and will be unable to answer your questions at this time. Thank you." Bruce stepped back from the podium and disappeared behind a swarm of people.
In the audience, Lois turned to Clark. "Isn't Perry White the guy who almost dropped you off a hundred foot cliff when you were a kid?"
Clark said nothing for a second and shook his head at her. "Something like that."
"Well, maybe he'll feel bad enough for nearly killing you and give you a promotion." She patted his arm and brushed past him.
Clark was about to follow when the sound of a gun cocking reached his ears. He narrowed down the sound to the area outside and behind the stage and began making his way through the crowds of reporters around him. Bruce Wayne's voice reached his ears a second later.
"You really don't want to do this."
"I'm getting paid enough to never have to work another day for the rest of my life for taking you out. So keep your mouth shut and get in the car like a good little billionaire."
Clark heard Bruce laugh humourlessly followed by the sound of his feet moving slowly over the pavement. Clark was free of the crowd finally and speeding towards the gunman. He arrived just in time to snatch the gun from the man's hand as he moved to follow Bruce into the waiting black sedan.
"I don't think so," he growled, shoving the assailant back against the wall hard enough to hear his head crack against the bricks before he slid to the ground unconscious.
"I had it under control, you know."
"You were getting into a car at gun point." Clark turned to face Bruce. "How is that under control?"
"Appearances can be deceiving, Mr. Kent." Bruce shifted the cuff of his jacket and dress shirt to reveal a slim, sharp-looking blade strapped to his inner forearm.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for a concealed weapon kind of guy."
"I'm generally not; the blade is for show. I was anticipating the possibility of this attack. There are a few people who aren't very happy with some of my more recent acquisitions and business transactions." He stepped closer to Clark and leaned in, dropping his voice to just above a whisper. "When you allow your attacker expect one thing, he will lose sight of another. That's when you make your move."
"And what were you going to do, distract him with something shiny?"
"Yes." Bruce's eyes gleamed with laughter, and Clark grinned back at him.
"Next time maybe try a body guard."
"Are you interested in the position?"
"That depends."
"On?"
Whether or not you plan to fire me."
Bruce laughed and the sound was deep and low, genuine. "No, Mr. Kent. I can assure that your job is safe. In fact, I think you'll like some of the changes I plan to instigate."
"Clark, where are you? I've got a dinner date with Oliver to get ready for, and if you make me late I'm going to have to kick your ass."
Clark glanced in the direction of Lois's voice. "I should go before she finds us out here. What happens to him?" he asked, nodding towards the still unconscious attacker.
"I'll see to it that he's taken care of. I'd prefer it if this didn't make the news, Mr. Kent. I'd be happy to make up the missed story to you in some other way. Perhaps an interview one day."
"I thought you didn't talk to reporters."
"That may be true, but I do talk to people who save my life. Even if it wasn't necessary."
Clark laughed and spoke as he walked backwards away from Bruce. "Lunch is on you the next time you're in Metropolis. Sound fair?"
"Almost too fair."
"Don't worry I'll pick someplace really expensive."
"Clark, are you out there?" Lois was closer this time, almost at the door just behind him.
"I'm coming, Lois," he called, turning his head towards her voice. When he looked back, Bruce was gone.
