Chapter 45

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Lana Lang walked down the hospital corridor in Smallville.  She was carrying two vases overflowing with flowers, a bunch of balloons on colorful ribbons floated over her shoulder.  Despite her cheerful burden, she looked tired and worn.  She turned down one short corridor, pushing open one of the rooms.  "Whitney?  You awake?  I brought another set."  She called out, poking her head around the corner.  The room was awash in bouquets of flowers and get-well balloons.

"Yeah," the ex-football player grumbled, "just watching the news.  Not much else to do here."  He smiled at her, carefully patting the mattress with his good arm.  "Wanna sit with me?"  He hit mute for the television.

The black haired girl smiled back, "sure thing, just let me put these up- they're from the Drama Club and the Band."

"Drama Club?  They sent me flowers?"  Whitney shook his head.

Lana gently sat next to her boyfriend, shrugging her shoulders.  "Yeah, well, I heard that someone said it wasn't fair for the different clubs and groups at school to only send get-well stuff to their members.  Because some people where being left out.  So everyone pitched in again, and bought something for everyone."

"Oh."

"The band managed to buy something for everyone who was… hit… in the Beanery, not just the high-school students.  They're a bigger group you know."  She sighed.

Whitney carefully brushed a stray hair out of her face.  "You went to another funeral, didn't you?"

She shook her head yes.  "Last one.  I mean… we hope.  Brian came out of his coma yesterday, but the doctors are worried about fluid in his lungs.  He's in isolation; they don't want him getting sick.  But everyone else is doing better."  She smiled at Whitney, "you look better."

"I would hope, it's been a week."  Whitney leaned back, sighing deeply.  "I'm glad you came by.  It's… hard."

"I know."  She softly replied.  "But… I know you'll get better."

"Yeah.  Doc says I've got a good chance at full recovery."

"That's great."

"I hope so.  I hope he's not pulling my leg.  I don't think Luthor put him up to it, because he's from Gotham.  Bruce Wayne sent him, you know."

"Whitney!  Lex wouldn't do that!"  Lana shook her head, "I mean, I know that everyone's saying it's his fault- but he didn't know.  And… he's trying to help.  He's paid for all these specialists, and doctors, and…" Lana trailed off, frustrated.  She didn't know what to say, she just knew that Lex didn't mean to get shot at, and even if had been the 'target', that didn't make the shooting his fault.  "He helped.  Lex helped.  He called 911 and told Clark how to hold your… wound closed.  It was making the worst noise…"

The young man sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.  "I know Lana.  I know.  It's just… I got a visit today.  From a lawyer.  Dad brought him.  He's representing a bunch of the other… victims in a class action suit against Lex Luthor.  He said we'd get lots of money.  Pay for my college.  And… I don't know.  It's not really right to sue… I mean, I don't think Lex knew it was coming… how can it be his fault?  But how else am I going to pay for my medical bills?  My college?  And anything else?"

Lana was silent, thinking.  Whitney reached out, grabbing the TV remote, "Hey, they're talking about it."

The volume went up as the LexCorp and LuthorCorp logos sped across the screen above a pretty blond reporter standing in front of the LuthorCorp Tower in downtown Metropolis. "-and Lex Luthor has issued another statement claiming that he is unable to reveal the suspects for the employer to the Smallville shooter, despite raging rumors that LuthorCorp is somehow involved."

Off screen, the anchorman replied, "Pat, Has there been any conformation of that?"

The reporter replied, "The authorities have continued to claim that they've made progress in narrowing down the investigation, with multiple search warrants being issued, but details are sketchy and no results have been revealed.  For example, earlier today, a search warrant was issued here, to Lionel Luthor, to investigate his personal finances.  He's the third such individual to receive such a warrant.  To some, this investigation has seemed scattered and directionless."

"There is one thing everyone can agree on- as each day passes it becomes more and more likely that any suspicious numbers on the books would have been carefully erased.  Leaving this crime unsolved.  Also,  there have been accusations that the authorities are using this investigation to examine the personal finances of anyone they want to scrutinize."

"In other words, an attack on personal freedoms.  Any reports on the class action suit being brought against Lex Luthor for his responsibilities in this matter?"

"Well, Jake, most of the news on that front is unconfirmed rumor at this time- except that it has been announced by the IRS that LexCorp is actually privately incorporated, not a partnership.  The real question is when this happened.  The most fascinating rumor states that incorporation happened before the shooting.  This means that any award granted from a class-action suit would result in the division of Lex Luthor's private fortune, not in the company itself.  While Lex Luthor's personal fortune is large, and would include some stocks representing LexCorp assets, LexCorp itself would not be in danger of being sold off piecemeal to pay for any awards.  If the rumor is true."

"Anything else?"

"Not at this time, Jake."

"Well, in other news-"

Whitney hit the mute button.  He sighed again.  "The lawyer said I had to sign for the lawsuit.  Not my parents.  Because I'm eighteen, and an adult.  But…  I don't know what to do."

"Sleep on it?"  Lana asked, smiling sweetly. 

////

Lex sighed from the backseat of the SUV as it pulled into the drive of the Kent's farm, the sunset painting the sky behind him in vivid colors.  He felt hemmed in this last week.  Armored cars, armored personnel, and security checks on everyone he was going to meet, everywhere he was going to go.  No more pulling up to random coffee shops in a slick car when he needed a boost of caffeine.  No more jet-setting around the country for business- unless he brought half a dozen people with him and planned every second.  No more 'hands on' approach in his factories, with visiting his working men and women face to face.  Everything was different, and Lex hated it.

Hated how it looked, too.  His new PR man had recommended a radio interview with a friendly journalist on the west coast and it had gone well.  Gone well in its entirety, but few station or newspapers were playing more than sound bites.  'Sometimes I feel a little trapped,' and 'I feel I've taken care of my responsibilities in Smallville' were direct quotes, but he felt they were out of context and didn't tell the whole story.

It didn't help that the local media seemed to forget everything he had done and harped continuously on what else he 'needed to be doing'.  They had even started talking about 'what LexCorp should do to heal Smallville' during the farm report on the local radio station.  So much for the corn crop.

And that didn't even bring into account what he needed to talk to the Kent's about.

When they stopped, his two bodyguards hopped out, chattering into radios and checking the perimeter.  Lex waited until they gave him the signal before getting out.  He trudged without looking to either across the yard and into the house, letting the door bang shut behind him.

It was well past dinner in a farmer's house, and Clark was doing dishes in the kitchen while Jonathan and Martha watched the television.  They looked up, Jonathan smiling, "You look beat big guy."

"God," Lex growled, "You have no true conception.  I've spent the last week feeling like I'm trailing around a pack of dogs."  He dropped his briefcase on the table, pulling off his coat.  "I keep telling myself that they're my entourage, but I feel like a criminal with a parole officer."  He absently hung his coat in the hall closet, sighing deeply.  He walked into the kitchen, "Got any coffee?"

"Some left in the machine."  Martha replied.

Clark smiled, and with a 'Hello Lex," pulled down a cup for his friend.  Lex poured, and adding sugar, opened the fridge for some milk.  He pulled out the bottle, and whispered to Clark, "Hey, you drink out of this?"  He had seen Clark gulp straight from the bottle more than once. 

Clark smirked, "It tastes better that way."

Lex rolled his eyes, and with a sigh, topped off his cup.  "Probably still healthier than airport coffee, even with whatever strange bacteria you've picked up."  He put the milk back, turned to pick up his cup, only to stop and stare at his coffee.  Lex cocked his head to one side, and then looked at Clark.  "And the scientist in me is suddenly very, very curious."  Good grief, Clark probably did have alien bacteria in his system.

Clark put another clean plate in the drainer and rolled his eyes.  "Hasn't hurt anyone yet."

Lex picked up his cup and took a sip.  "Yeah, well, I still want to know."  It was true enough- the Kents, and himself, where already inoculated with alien bacteria or even viruses courtesy of Clark.  No one was sick yet.

However, he still wanted to get Clark down to a lab and take samples.  But first… "Clark, you've looked over the house lately?  I need to talk to you and your parents."

"Yeah, it's clear."  Clark shrugged, "and I'm almost done."

Lex walked into the living room, pulling a chair with him from the dinning area to sit on.  Jonathan had his recliner, Martha the couch, and Clark would soon sit by her.  Lex settled back, watching the news program.  "Well, how am I doing?"

Martha shook her head.  "Not so good.  They haven't mentioned your doctors or arrangements you've made for the ones from Gotham for days.  They mention Bruce Wayne quite a lot, and they make it sound like he's footing the entire bill.  However, they're talking at great length about the lawsuit.  And they make it sound like everything's all your fault, and that you're going to be taken to the cleaners."

Lex sipped his coffee, eyes cold.  "Not going to happen.  My lawyers have reported to me that the lawsuit is on very shaky ground.  How can they claim that I'm legally responsible for a shooting I neither supported, nor hired, and was in fact was even a target of?  Especially since there was no warning or death threats against me going into the situation?  Besides, once it becomes clear that my personal fortune is completely tied up in LexCorp stock-, which isn't for public trade- it will rapidly become apparent that the suit will take years before anyone sees a dime.  Couple that with the fact that what I've done so far will be credited to me in any courtroom and the fact that the primary legal firm organizing this suite is the same firm that represents my father?  The primary suspect of the investigation?  When that becomes public knowledge, the suite will hit another snag."

Lex looked up, "You see, this class-action suite is most likely being prodded forward by lawyers who are fronting for Lionel.  To keep me busy while he tears down my business and lets the lawyers, legal fees, and security costs eat away at my capitol.  He's just trying to ruin me."

"Hasn't yet."  Clark whispered.  His parents shook their heads in agreement.

"No," Lex agreed, "but by tying up my resources with this game of extremely expensive security forces and medical costs?  I've practically got both hands tied behind my back as far as product development goes."

"Product development?"  Clark asked.

"And research and development."  He leaned back rubbing his head.  "And that," Lex softly added, "is a problem."

"Why?"  Martha asked, her husband looking tight and nervous.

Lex sighed, bone weary.  "That… ship is a risk."  He glanced over at Jonathan, "and a responsibility.  We can't- I can't- have it fall into the wrong hands.  But…"

"You can't leave it alone."  Jonathan replied, sounding almost resigned.

Lex shrugged, "It probably wouldn't let itself be left alone, sir.  Not forever.  Even if you managed to keep it hidden here, down in the cellar for the next hundred years… eventually, someone would have found it.  And even in a hundred years, it would still be the biggest find of all of human history.  It's that advanced."

"Really?"  Martha asked, "It's just a rocket."

Lex chuckled.  "Not hardly.  Did Clark tell you what we found?  You hit a button, and it opens up.  It unfolds…" Lex shook his head wonderingly, voice awed, "the technology it would take to fold space- it's bigger on the inside, bigger than your house even- and they built it to fold up, just to make it smaller for the plumbing…  I can't even imagine…"

"And you want to make money off it?"  Jonathan asked.

The bald millionaire shook his head.  "It's more than that.  After all, someone will eventually find it.  If not today, or tomorrow, maybe next century- or even the one after that.  And will any of us be around to protect it?  To make sure that they use that knowledge for good?  Clark might be able to destroy it, but that does have certain unknown risks.  It could blow up or leak radiation or even destroy the space-time continuum around Earth.  Which I will admit is a little melodramatic- but-  So the question becomes, what do you want to do with the ship?"  Lex had thought about it on the plane, and he knew that Jonathan needed to think about this- weigh the risks.

"And get rich."

"Actually, that's at least ten years down the road.  Maybe further.  Besides a huge lead-time between the start of any formal research and product development and marketing, we'll need to funnel practically all of the profits back into the program.  After all, we aren't talking about a few gizmos here; we're talking about… everything.  Space travel, pollution-free energy," Lex smiled, "right now, the opportunities are probably bigger than we can imagine."

"So what's the problem?"

Lex frowned.  This was the hard part.  "I'm… not sure… I can do this alone."

Clark replied, "You're not alone."

Lex sadly smiled, looking away, "I'm one man, with less than ten million in liquid capitol to my name and a patchwork security team that I'm not a hundred percent sure of.  I'm very alone."

"What are you getting at?"  Jonathan asked.

Lex held up is hands, palms out in a pleading gesture.  "I don't want to do this, in fact- I'm going to wait six months before I even make up my mind that it's even a good idea.  But, perhaps, after we get to know them, check them out, we might see about approaching some… investors."

"Who?" "But we can't tell anyone about-" "I don't think-"

Lex held his hands up again, "We wouldn't tell them anything.  Not yet.  But… well… I wanted you to think about it."

Lex spent the next thirty minutes calming Jonathan and Martha down, unsurprised when Clark followed him to bed.

"Lex?"  Clark whispered in the upper hall.

"Yeah?"

"Who?"

Lex sighed, "right now?  The only one I can think of is Bruce Wayne.  But I don't know him that well, and he'd want to know everything.  We'll have to see."

Clark sighed.  "You know, we're both still young- can't this just wait?  Till everything blows over?"

"Life isn't like that, Clark.  But… we are waiting.  Okay?"

"Yeah.  Hey, you gonna be around here a few days?  I was thinking we could borrow Lana's horses and maybe ride a little bit or something.  We haven't gotten to hang out much."

"Yes, I'll be here for awhile.  And that… that would be nice.  Or maybe a midnight walk?   Like we used to do?"  Lex smiled as he turned back to his bedroom, "and I used to think my life was complicated…"

////

"Alfred, what do you know about farm-work?"  Bruce asked, munching his morning bagel and lox.  The dinning room was just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, and Bruce Wayne had decided to skip the bare hour of sleep he could have gotten.  It would have just made him sleepy, and he had several reports for Wayne Enterprises that needed his review.

Alfred topped off Bruce's coffee cup, clicking his tongue.  "Not much, sir.  It's been a long time since I spent any time on a farm."

Bruce nodded, "Yes, I know."  He continued on, "the team I sent to Lex Luthor's rustic getaway have reported that the Kents are able to do the work of at least six people.  Fences have been repaired at record rates, cow are herded into other pastures with ease, and… some of the heavy machinery has been moved, but their not sure how- at least not with the speed by which it's been done."

"Ah, a mystery.  Do they have any recommendations?"

Bruce snorted.  "No.  But at least they reported it.  One of them added that they had spoken to one of the original Luthor Team members, and the man just rolled his eyes and replied something along the lines of 'so what?  If you can't prove it or explain it, no one wants to hear about it.'  Which would explain why LuthorCorp security isn't as good as mine."  Wayne frowned, wondering if he should instruct his team to inform Lex on why his original security was so incompetent- it was likely that they covered up their mistakes as well.

////

"Well, kid- you did a great job.  I'm proud of you."  Danko Ranovich leaned back, slicking his graying hair back.  His darkly tanned face flashed a grin.

"Thanks!"  Chloe smiled back, smoothing her green t-shirt over her jeans.  She looked at herself, then added, "I bet Brian makes another nasty comment about my casual wear when we get back to the office- but everyone's more willing to talk to me if I don't look all official."

Ranovich smiled.  "Of course.  And putting your 'interviewee' at ease is important."  He waved a dismissing hand, "don't worry about Brian, I'll tell Perry that you were just wooing your fellow classmates to open their mouths.  After all, you've got some juicy quotes- what was it?"

"'Lex Luthor owes us, it's his fault I'm in pain.' And 'You know he's got tons of money- why should he be buying those fancy new SUVs when I don't know how I'm going to pay my doctor bills?'"  Chloe gusted a sigh.  "Even if those new SUVs are armored vehicles, because he needs more than a Porsche now.  Do you think we should mention that?  That his new cars are all bullet proof, and because of this class-action suit he can't help out as much without 'assuming guilt'?"

The older man shrugged.  "I'll ask Perry.  Maybe one of our columnists might want to write a page or two on our legal system, but we're just out to get the facts we can and put together our story.  Come on, kid." 

He knew better than to tell her that he had no plans to even out the article, he was just going to slant like he had been told.

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Author's Notes:

Those of you who really love this fic:  I've started a list called "Lex Redemptionists" where I post my chapters first, before fanfiction.net.  So, if you want to join, maybe post your own fic, get my next chapter mailed straight to your inbox even if fanfiction.net isn't up and running, etc. feel free to join.  It's currently a pretty low volume list, so not a lot of e-mails will jamb up your mailbox.  Here's the addy:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LexRedemptionists/