Once again I think I'm done but there's probably one more chapter. If I get the feedback I'm hoping for I'll try and write it. I'm just not sure I want the sappy ending.

"Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say
Chained to all the places that he never wished to say
Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say
and as faced the sun he cast no shadow

As they took his soul they stole his pride," Oasis.

The last thing in the world that I want to do is attend my father's funeral. No, I take that back. It's the second to last thing I want to be doing. The last thing is the only part of the funeral preparations I haven't finished, the thing I'm still working on now, even though it's 3:00 in the morning on the day when we are going to burry that sick bastard for good. I have to give a eulogy. I've been sitting in the same spot ever since we put Alexander to bed.

It's been about a week, and we're still staying at the hotel (until we find a new house. I'm selling the one I grew up in, too many bad memories, too many things to remind me of my father.) but not much else has changed. There's a pad of paper in front of me and a pen, but I can't bring myself to write anything. I wish I could tell the whole world about what he did to me but at the same time I don't want anyone to know. Besides, he's dead so what would be the point. Not that I could write a nice speech about him even if I leave out all the years of . . . abuse. Clark comes over and it's down on another chair, facing me.

"Hey, did you get anything done yet?" I shake my head. "You should get some sleep." He looks at me sadly.

"I don't know why I'm letting myself get stressed out by this. It's not like anyone would believe anything good I could think of to say about him."

"Why do you have to say anything all?"

"Because I'm his son and a decent fucking person. If I'm going to prove to the world that I'm a good guy then I need to do this and do it convincingly."

"You need to sleep or it won't matter that you have nothing to say, you'll just fall asleep."

"I can't sleep. I tried. I keep trying but every time I close my eyes I feel like he's—it's stupid. Forget I said anything."

"You're still scared, aren't you?" Clark hugs me tightly to his body. "I'd be scared too. Lex? There's something else too isn't there?"

"Look Clark—I uh—this isn't easy for me. I mean—I don't want to lie to you."

"Then don't," he says simply, kissing the top of my head. "Lex? It's okay. You can talk to me."

"The day before he died, my father called the house and told me that if I didn't go back to him, he was going to take Alexander from us." Clark stares at me blankly for a minute.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"He died the next day. I didn't think it would make any difference. I didn't think it would matter."

"If it's bothering you this much then it maters. Maybe you could sleep for a while, if I sit up and watch over you?"

"Thanks, but no. I know he can't—I know he's gone at least when I'm awake I do but as soon as I fall asleep…besides I have to finish this."

"How much do you need to say? Maybe I can help you think of something."

"No. I have to do this. It has to be my words my—it has to be me."

"Why?"

"Because he was my father!" But that's not the whole reason. I have to prove that I'm better than him by not resorting to his tricks or tactics.

"And look what he did to you. Lex he might have been your dad but he didn't act like it. You don't owe him anything."

"Yes I do. Even if I'm gonna do good things, I'm still taking his company and his money. That was his way of making sure he would have control over me." Clark looks at me desperately. He wants to help but doesn't know what he's supposed to do. "I think I've got it."

"Good, are you coming to bed now?"

"I'll be there in a bit I just wanna write this down so I don't for get it.

//XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX\\

I don't know why my father had plans in order for a funeral at his age but he did, right down to what kinds of flowers he wanted, the people who would be here, except for writing this stupid eulogy I had my work cut out for me. As I step up to the podium hundreds of eyes stair at me, watching. All of the sudden my mouth dries out and my heart starts beating like a humming bird's. I look back at Clark who gives me a weak smile. Then I close my eyes, and count to ten. Okay. Here goes nothing.

"Ladies and gentleman, on behalf of my father I would like to thank you for finding the time to come here to day. I, like many of you, am uncertain of how to feel about this situation, this event. Lionel Luthor was my father and I think it has to be said that he was by no means a perfect man. Some would even go as far as to say that he was a very bad man in life, but he was a man none-the-less and it is not up to any of us to judge him. It is not my job or your job to decide who is good or bad, right or wrong. All any of us can do is try our best and hope that we can learn from our mistakes.

"I know these things because I grew up with Lionel Luthor as my father. I grew up being watched and judged by every person I ever met. My father was not the kind of man who showed affection easily, but I think in his heart he only wanted what he thought was best for me. Unfortunately, the two of us often differed as to what exactly that was. Over the past few years our relationship had been strained, and our last conversation did not end well. I never got to tell him any of this to his face, but I think he can hear me now when I say that, 'I'm sorry, Dad and I love you.'"

By the time I finish there isn't a person who doesn't at least have tears in their eyes. I speak to everyone, making notes as to with whom I'll continue to make contact, and with whom I will need to sever all ties. Then I wait, and I wait, and I wait. Finally, when I am certain that absolutely everyone is gone (except for Clark and Alex) I go to the car and remove the roses. I lay them atop my mother's grave, touching the headstone, softly. Next to her is Lionel's freshly buried coffin and his stone. I stand beside it just looking down for a while. Clark comes to my side and stands there. Alexander hugs me.

"Are you ready to go?" Clark asks, putting an arm around my shoulder.

"I need a minute or two alone with him." Clark nods, taking Alex to the car. "Checkmate, Dad. I wanted you to know that I've decided to take everything. Luthorcorp is going to be remembered for the people we help and the good we do. I figured it all out. I was never the screw up you made me out to be. I'm just a good person, and you hated that." Then I turn and walk towards the car, and as I step inside I realize that even though I'm not living the life I expected to be, I'm happy. I'm on the right track, and I'm going to be okay. Alexander leans over me from the back seat.

"Daddy-Lex are you okay?" he asks, trying to hug me from around the seat.

"Yeah, I am," I tell him, and I think it might actually be the truth.