Lionel Luthor was in a business meeting when he received the telephone call that his fifteen-year-old son, Alexander Joseph Luthor had attempted suicide whilst away at prep-school. He was furious to have been interrupted at work with such a trivial mater. K He was even more upset that his supposedly intelligent child had done something so stupid. Lex should have been able to finish the deed successfully. If your child dies, even through suicide, you receive sympathy. However when your little boy is in a mental hospital or receiving psychiatric help of any kind, people talk, And so Lionel left his meeting to visit his son in the hospital.

"You stupid little shit." The father screamed, slapping his son, but the boy didn't respond. He just lay there staring into space. Lionel punched the boy in the gut, hard enough to leave a large bruise. He continued to beat Lex for several minutes. Then he rolled the child over so he was laying face down. Soft sobbing sounds escaped from the teenaged boy's mouth. "Oh, now you talk? You going to beg me not to do this, Lex?"

Silence

"Answer me damn it!"

"No sir. Just do what ever the fuck you want. You always do anyway."

"It's good business to take advantage of every opportunity presented to you. That is one thing you never understood, son."

"So I'm just an opportunity to you?"

"I'm surprised at you! You know I love you, Lex." Lionel kissed the back of is son's neck. "I'm just trying to teach you that I am stronger than you are. I'm keeping you in check, son. Keeping you under control. Sometimes I worry you are becoming too independent."

"Funny, I always thought that was a good thing. Don't you want me to be my own person?"

"Of course I do." Lionel undid the back of Lex's gown and pulled his boxers to his ankles. "But you get these ideas that you can do whatever you want. People talk Lex. And they can't be saying bad things about you. Trust me; I'm doing you a favor."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you father." Lex spat. Lionel unzipped his trousers. When a pair of pants costs more than $300 they are called trousers. Lionel Luthor already had a ragging hard-on. He slammed it into Lex's ass. The teen shuddered but made no noise. "Good boy," Lionel whispered over and over as he fucked his son.

Once he finished the deed, he slapped the boy across the face once more. "Don't ever do anything like this again!" Lex's father left him. Shortly after a nurse came in and gave him a large dose of an IV psychiatric medication known as Thorazine. Lx drifted off into his own world. Everything melted away, like sugar dissolving into tea. _________________________________________________________________

Lionel Luthor stood outside the hospital room this time, looking in at his dying son. Clark Kent had banned him from entering. He supposed it was his own fault for the way he had treated both boys in their younger age. Poor Lex, he thought. The boy had suffered so much, mostly because of stupid mistakes, in his life. He wanted to comfort them, wanted to help. Lex was going to die, he could see it, could tell. It had been the same with Lillian, towards the end. Lex hadn't expected her to die; he had always believed his mover would recover.

Lionel was sure Clark felt the same way. The farm boy stepped up to leave the room. Lex grabbed weakly at his arm. Lionel could see there were tars in both men's eyes. Luthor had learned to read lips, it was a good skill to know, he took advantage of it and read Lex and Clarks lips.

"It's okay, baby. I'll be right back. I just need to use the bathroom." But Lionel knew Clark Kent was lying. In his prime Lex would too. Kent was coming out to talk to Lionel. He would tell Luthor to leave. He wouldn't even give the man a chance to hug his son one more time.

"He's my son, dammnit. Let me see him. Let me say goodbye. Please. I don't beg often, ever, but I am now."

"No. You tortured him his whole life. Why should I think now will be any different:

"All I want is to say goodbye to my son. I love him"

"GO to hell." Clark turned around and re-entered Lex's hospital room. The dying man's eyes lit up. Lionel left. He was blinking back tears for the first time since he lost his wife.

Lionel Luthor was not inviting to his son's funeral. He was, however, sent a letter from Clark Kent. It gave him the name of the cemetery where Lex would be buried and the location of the grave. "You `a come and see him after the funeral." Clark had added the day and time of the service as well.

"You sick, selfish bastard." Lionel muttered to himself as he tossed the letter into the shred. Actually, tossed is not the right word. Hammered, is more like it. And hammered is the exact right word to describe Lionel Luthor at eleven o clock in the morning on the day of Lex's funeral. It had all started with a single four fingered measure of double malt twelve- year-old scotch. Chiva's of course. Not that Lionel would drink anything less, mind you. Nothing but the best for Mr. Luthor.

The last of his kind. Lionel supposed he could father another son, easily enough. Men older than he did it all the time. David Letterman. Paul McCartney. But of course Lionel didn't feel like putting forth the effort. He'd have to find the exact right woman. E couldn't mix the Luthor genes with any common slut. There had been plenty of women since Lillian's death, and Lex (he thought solemnly), but he had never been serious about a single one of them. They understood that all he wanted from them rested between their legs, and that they were not to speak during sex. Lillian had been brilliant, stunning, beautiful, and talented at everything she tried. And Lionel had known after her death that she would be impossible to replace so he hadn't tried.

He didn't think his wife was perfect; a mistake many widowers made Lillian had coddled Lex as an infant. He had been soft, and weak as a child. Then Julian was born. Lex had come three months prematurely, equipped with allergies and asthma; At least he had them until the meteor shower. Julian however was prefect and then Lex had managed, as usual, to fuck that up.

Lionel knew he couldn't blame Lex just because he was the one to find the dead infant, but still. . . Not that any of it mattered now. Both his sons and his wife were all dead. And he was extremely drunk. Lionel Luthor made up his mind. He was going to the cemetery. He could be there before noon. The services were set t o start at 1:00. Lionel smiled, and then began to laugh. He called for his chuffer. Oddly enough the man had a name identical to that of Clark Kent's father.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

"I'd like to attend my son's funeral." Lionel gave Jonathan the address of the cemetery.

"Yes, sir." The younger man replied softly. E knew that the elder Luthor had been forbidden to attend the services, but he knew better than to talk back to the boss.

"The element of surprise is the greatest business tool." Luthor, though drunk, didn't even slur. "Did you know that?"

"No, sir."

"Well, I'm sure Clark Kent will be surprised. Don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir." Lionel entered the limo with minimal assistance.

"Yes, I think he shall be very surprised indeed.