A/N: Direct quotes from 3x8, "Shattered."

Chapter 12 - Attack

"The powder made it into the scotch?"

"Yes, sir, but . . . he doesn't drink much these days."

" . . . I see."

" . . . Sir?"

"Does he still eat at the mansion?"

"At lunchtime, most days."

"Then you know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

"I blow up the building. Lionel gets rid of his . . . bastard father and his gin-soaked mother. The slumlord splits the insurance payment with us. Lionel uses his cut for his first start-up, and the rest is history."

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose. Hearing Morgan Edge's testimony aloud was as surreal the fifteenth time as it had been the first. It had been a long time since Lex had been under any illusion that Lionel was any less than pure evil, and he knew about some of the kills, but it was still difficult to hear the reason why he'd never met his grandparents.

Not that he wanted to. They sounded like terrible people.

The door to the study opened, and Lex unplugged the camera as Darius stepped into the room.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir, but . . . your father called again. I—I did what you asked, I told him you weren't here."

Lex trusted Darius, but something had been off about the head of security for awhile now. A couple of months ago, Darius had mentioned he was stressed because of his new baby at home, and Lex had offered him some extra paid time off, but Daris didn't take it. Now, he seemed on edge most of the time, and Lex was starting to wonder if the dangers of working at the mansion were starting to sink in for him. "You look worried, Darius," Lex said. "Relax." He gave him a little smile, but it felt more like a wince. For some reason, his neck was hurting badly. It had started up the day before, and it had only gotten worse since then.

Darius gave him a smile that lasted less than a second before leaving the room.

Lex picked up the camera and transcripts. He couldn't help checking over his shoulder a couple of times on the way from his desk to his safe. This evidence was everything. He knew his adoptive parents wouldn't be happy if they knew he had sought out Morgan Edge, but it would put a quick end to this crusade, which mean Clark wouldn't keep trying to put himself in danger. Lex still didn't know how Clark had planted the bugs so quickly, but it hadn't ended up doing any good—they'd been cleared away within twenty-four hours. Whatever Clark's secrets were, they might have helped him break into LuthorCorp without being caught, but they didn't involve proficiency in hiding bugs so they wouldn't be found.

Lex was just finishing sealing up the safe when a red laser dot appeared on the wall.

"DARIUS!"

Silenced gunshots rang out, and Lex dropped to the floor and crawled for his desk. The door flew open, and Darius ran inside, but another shot sounded, and he fell.

Lex was on his own. He had to get out.

He dove for the minibar. More shot sounded. Glass shattered, and he ducked, shards scraping his face.

He just made it out of the room.

Another shooter came around the corner. Lex ran back the way he'd come. He grabbed a figurine and threw it at the other shooter who came for him, then dove for the window.

Sharp sting broke out all over his head and face where the glass sliced through him, and his legs exploded with pain as he hit the ground, but adrenaline kept him running. He shouted in pain and exertion as he ran, but he didn't stop.

By the time he slowed to a walk, his lungs were on fire, his legs were viciously cramping, and his neck was worse than ever. He touched the scrapes on the side of his head. The blood was mostly dried, but not completely. He looked down to see that he had somehow managed to smear blood all over his shirt as well.

He realized he was heading in the direction of the Kent farm, but he couldn't go back to the Kents now—whoever was after him could follow him there, and then the Kents would be in danger. But if Lex didn't come home, they would worry. He'd told them he wouldn't be home for dinner, but he hadn't asked if he could miss his curfew.

Lex took his cell phone out of his pocket. It was smashed from his fall from the window, but that was probably for the best: finding it shattered made him realize how big of a mistake that could have been. He didn't know who might be listening in on his phone conversations.

If Lex didn't call or show up, Jonathan would probably go to the mansion, and that was more dangerous than anything. Lex had to go back to the farm, if only to check in with his family. Selfishly, he wanted to spend longer with them. He was terrified, frustrated, and in horrible pain. He wanted his father to tell him he was safe, for his brother to encourage him, and for his mother to comfort him.

But he had to prioritize their safety over his comfort. He'd drop by, talk to them for a few minutes, then leave.

Martha's heart rate rose as the minutes ticked past eleven, approaching midnight, with no word from Lex. Long after Clark had gone to bed, Martha sat awake in the living room, sipping at a cup of chamomile, while Jonathan paced.

"Try calling his cell?" she asked.

"It's going straight to voicemail."

"The mansion?"

"Same. I'm not waiting until one in the morning this time, Martha, the second it hits midnight I'm going over there—"

"What if he's really hurt?" Her eyes stung. Lex had been dealing in dangerous territory, with his father. She knew she shouldn't have given him permission to stay at the mansion after dark, but although they were parenting him like a teenager, it was difficult to completely set aside the fact that he was twenty-three years old.

"I'm sure he's fine, Martha, but he's in a lot of trouble."

"Don't go too hard on him." Her voice cracked.

Jonathan came over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be fair. But I'm gonna make sure he never puts you through this again."

She winced, but nodded.

Jonathan glanced at his watch. "I'm giving him another ten minutes, then—"

There was a knock at the door.

"Lex!" Martha raced to the door and opened it to find him looking almost as battered as he did that night he came back from the island. "What happened?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing, and stepped into the house. "I can't stay."

"You're not going anywhere," Jonathan said.

"I'm not playing around, Dad. Some people came by the mansion tonight. They tried to kill me."

Martha gasped. "Kill you?"

"There was a gunman in the mansion. I jumped out a window . . ."

"Did—did they follow you?"

"I don't think so. But I'm sure they're looking for me."

Jonathan stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, son. You're safe here."

"Come sit down," Martha said. "I want to take a look at that scrape."

He limped into the house, but he didn't head for the couches. "Are you not hearing me? They might still be after me."

"Who?" she asked.

"Either Morgan Edge or my father."

Her voice caught in her throat. "I should bring Clark down to talk to you—"

"No. This is too dangerous, I'm not letting him be involved anymore—"

"Then get yourself out of it," Jonathan said. "That was the deal, son."

"It's too late! Don't you get it? My only hope is to put an end to this. I have to go on the run. I have to . . ." He staggered, gripping at his neck again. "There's . . . there's evidence in my safe, back at the mansion. Proof that my father . . . and Morgan Edge . . . I can end this . . . " He was getting more out of breath with every word.

"Okay." Jonathan stepped forward and took his arm. "We're going to talk about this in the morning. Your mother's going to take care of your cuts, then you're getting a good night's sleep—"

"I'm not gonna stay here!" Lex wrenched his arms away, staggered once more, and fell to the floor.

Martha gasped and knelt down. "Lex!" She put her fingers to his neck. His pulse was strong, but he didn't respond to her touch.

Jonathan knelt down and put a hand on her back. "He's on drugs, Martha."

She swallowed hard. "Do you think someone drugged him?"

"I don't know. Maybe tonight wasn't the first night the mansion security was breached."

Her eyes widened. "It's not safe for him there."

"I know. Why don't you go talk to Clark? I'll look after Lex."

Martha nodded and stood to walk up the stairs to Clark's bedroom. The door was cracked, and she pushed it open, then put a gentle hand on his back. "Clark."

He rolled over and blinked. "Mom?"

She flicked on the light, and he winced. "Sorry, sweetie. Lex just came home covered in scrapes and bruises. He says someone tried to attack him at the mansion. He had evidence about Lionel there."

Clark shot up out of bed. "Is he okay?"

"He passed out. He was worried about staying here because he thought someone might come after him."

Clark nodded. "What do we do?"

"Well, first, I'm wondering if you could carry him up to his bedroom. Dad and I could do it, but it'll be easier—"

"Oh, yeah." Clark was already climbing out of bed.

Martha followed him down the stairs. "And I want you to be on your guard. If he's right about the danger, it'll be worst during the night. If you stay up and guard the house, I'll call in sick for you tomorrow at the school, and you can sleep during the day."

"You probably don't need to. I don't really get tired."

"You get cranky. You're going to get your sleep."

They had reached the living room. Clark frowned down at Lex's crumpled frame. "Why'd he pass out?"

"We think he might have been drugged." Jonathan said.

Clark let his breath out and knelt to pick up Lex, then he carried him toward the stairs. Lex's eyebrows narrowed in a brief wince, but he didn't stir otherwise.

Martha turned on the light in the room and pulled back the blankets on Lex's bed. Clark set him down and stationed himself in a chair in the corner while Martha went to get a first aid kit. She cleaned and bandaged the wounds on his head. His eyes fluttered open a couple of times while she did. He didn't say anything, though he did let out a slight yelp when she removed a little shard of glass, as well as a couple of soft groans when the antiseptic sank in.

She rubbed his back for a moment and kissed his head before going over to do the same for Clark. "He's going to need some time to detox."

"Okay. I'll keep him safe, Mom," Clark said. "I'll keep us all safe."

"You're a good boy."

Clark smiled, and she left the room.

Jonathan was waiting for her in the hall. Before she could say anything, he took her into his arms. "It's going to be okay. Whatever he's involved in, we're going to tell him to get out of it."

She shook her head. "We can't. He's right, he's in too deep. We all are. The only way he can end this is to win the fight."

"Sweetheart—"

"Jonathan, you know I'm right." She trusted her boys. Of course, she was their mom—it was her job to worry—but she knew this fight was bigger than any of them.

Jonathan took a deep breath. "Lionel's after our boys. God help us."

Martha pulled her husband back into her arms.