Chapter 13 - Detox

"Did he buy it?"

"Yes, sir. The mansion has already been cleaned, and the window is being repaired as we speak."

"Good. And you know what to say when the Kent boy comes around."

"Of course. . . . Mr. Luthor, I've done everything you've asked. May I speak with my wife? . . . Sir?"

Clark stayed awake all night long, sitting on the chair in the corner of Lex's room. He didn't grow tired as the night grew on, but it was difficult to keep from getting bored.

He found himself jumping at every little noise outside. He wished super sensitive hearing was one of his powers, so he could be a better guard and hear what each sound was.

When the sun rose, Lex stirred. His eyes fell on Clark, and he sat straight up, then rubbed at his neck. "What happened?"

"You tell me. What do you remember?"

Lex shifted his weight, pulling aside the covers. "Ah . . . gunman at the mansion. Took out my head of security and tried to finish me off, too. I jumped out a window and ran here, and . . . Oh, no. I wasn't supposed to stay here. They're going to come looking for me, and—"

"It's okay, Lex, you're safe here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"They took out Darius, do you think they're going to hesitate to hurt you?"

"I'll be fine." Clark swallowed, frustrated that he couldn't explain why his protection was better than Lex's entire security team. If this went on for too much longer, he was going to tell Lex his secret whether Lex wanted to know or not. Lex was right that the battle they were fighting was dangerous—being unable to communicate was too big a disadvantage. "Why do you think they attacked you?"

"I got in touch with Morgan Edge yesterday," Lex said.

Clark's eyes widened. "Morgan Edge? But . . . he died. I saw him die."

"You knew him?"

Clark squirmed. "One of these days, remind me to tell you what happened over the summer."

"I don't think I want to know. It doesn't matter, Morgan Edge is very much alive. Went underground, got some hack plastic surgeon to change his appearance. I got him to make a confession about the crime and Lionel committed, and the tape was supposed to be delivered to the US Attorney this morning. But it's in my safe, Clark. And I can't go back there."

"Okay. I'll go get it."

"No, no, it's too dangerous, Clark. The people in the mansion could be in on this."

"No, if anyone asks, I'll just play dumb. Tell them I was there to meet you."

"Clark. No. I shouldn't even be here, I'm going to leave now." Lex stood from the bed.

Clark put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. He used enough force that Lex couldn't get away, but not enough that Lex might suspect his strength was superhuman. "No. Dad thinks you might have been drugged. Mom wants you to stay here and detox."

"But—"

"It's like you've said. The only way we can get out of this safely is if we win the fight. That evidence will send your father to prison?"

"Given the crime, it could get him the death penalty."

Clark frowned—he wanted to ask if that was what Lex really wanted, but there was no point in that right now. It wasn't their job to decide what to do with him; that was up to the courts. It was their job to relay the evidence. "What's the combination for the safe?"

"You're not going over there."

Clark realized his dad had a point, about Lex being drugged. He always worried about keeping Clark and his family safe, but he was usually much more rational about it. Right now, he was downright paranoid. "Lex, how do you think this ends if we don't get that evidence to the US Attorney?"

Lex was silent for a long time. Then he looked down and muttered, "Combo is 15988."

Clark nodded. "Thanks. I'll be right back." He clapped Lex on the shoulder and headed out of the house.

He ran to the mansion and headed directly to the study, but the safe was empty, and there was no evidence of a window having been broken, other than a shard of red stained glass behind a table in the hallway. Darius wasn't around, but the security guard who was on duty said that he hadn't been in the night before, and that nothing interesting had happened all night.

For a moment, Clark wondered if Lex had been seeing things. He had seemed especially crazed and irrational that morning—Clark had assumed it was from the near-death experience, but maybe it was from the drugs. Still, he found it difficult to believe that Lex could have merely imagined being shot at, no matter what his security guard said.

While Clark was out at the mansion, Martha climbed the stairs to bring Lex a cup of coffee. He had been limping the night before, and she wasn't sure how badly he was injured. If it was bad, she would need to make sure he rested in his room for the day.

The door to his room was halfway open, and she could hear singing from inside. She knocked on the doorframe. "Lex?"

"Hush little baby, don't say a word—"

"Lex." Martha stepped into the room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, a blanket bundled up in his arms. "Everything okay?"

"I had to get the baby. He was crying."

She swallowed and set down the coffee mug on his nightstand. "The baby?"

He angled the blanket so she could see. "My little brother. Julian."

A shudder ran through her limbs. Jonathan had been right about Lex being on drugs, and apparently, they hadn't worn off yet. "Sweetie—"

"Shh." Lex smiled. "He's asleep."

"Lex. You're having a hallucination."

He blinked, and his brow furrowed, like he was trying to understand her but couldn't. "No, I . . . aww, look at him. He's so peaceful when he sleeps."

It felt like an anchor dropped on to her chest. She was going to have to tell him his brother was dead. He might receive it was if the news was fresh. He might have to grieve for the death of his baby brother as if it had just happened.

Unless . . . maybe she could work him out of the hallucination gradually.

"Can I hold him?" she whispered.

He smiled and handed over the blanket.

Martha held it in her arms as if she really were holding a baby—she felt a sharp pang for a moment as she remembered her miscarriage—and she looked up at Lex. "So tell me about what happened last night?"

Lex cleared his throat and kept his eyes on her face. "I don't want you to get involved, Mom. It's bad enough that Clark is."

"Just tell me what you can."

"I had some evidence that was supposed to be delivered. I think my father found out. Clark just went to pick it up from the mansion. If he's successful, I think we can end this in a matter of days."

While he was speaking, she slowly, gradually pulled back the layers on the blanket until it was fully unravelled on her lap, then she folded it back up into a square. He didn't seem to notice what she was doing. It seemed the hallucinations had ended and smoothly and quickly as they had begun. She was afraid to bring it up to him, though—she had no idea if doing so might trigger something worse. She was probably going to need to convince him to see a therapist when all of this was over. She didn't doubt Jonathan's guess that Lex was drugged, but this whole endeavor was quickly becoming what would probably be one of the most traumatic experiences of Lex's lifetime.

She set the blanket aside—he still didn't react to that—and reached over to pick up the coffee mug. She held it out to him.

He looked at the mug, then up at her face. "What is this?"

"It's just coffee. Thought you might—"

"Liar." There was a starry, distant expression in his eyes.

"Lex?"

"Liar!" He jumped up from the bed, limping back away from her. "You're trying to drug me!"

He was definitely on something. Her heart pounded, and she set down the mug and stood. "No, Lex, try to settle down—"

He shoved her back. "I shouldn't have trusted you!"

"I would never—"

"No! You want to poison me!" He shoved her harder, and she fell. She was lucky his bed was there, but her elbow smashed against his bed frame.

She forced herself to her feet. "Sweetheart, look at me." Martha reached for the coffee mug and took a sip. "See? It's fine. But you don't have to drink it if you don't want to. Actually . . ." She winced at the mug. "Maybe should get you some chamomile instead."

He winced and clutched at his neck. "O-okay." His eyes fell on her elbow. "I—I hurt you."

She looked down at it. It wasn't bleeding, but the top layer of skin was torn up. It hadn't stung before—she'd been too preoccupied by the terror of watching whatever was happening to her son—but now it throbbed. "I'm okay, sweetheart. But you need to get some rest."

"No. I can't stay here. I'm bad for your family."

"Lex—"

"No." He pushed past her and ran out into the hall.

She raced after him, and relief washed through her—Clark was coming up the stairs. "Whoa, where are you going?"

"Away!" Lex bolted for the stairs.

"Clark, bring him back up here!"

Clark took Lex by the arm—Lex struggled against him, but Clark didn't let go. "Hang on, Lex, what's going on?"

Lex's eyes flashed. "Clark! Did you get the evidence from my safe?"

"Your safe was empty. It was like the Twilight Zone. There was nothing wrong. I called Darius's house to see if anyone knew he was missing. But according to his answering machine, his wife and his kids are off visiting their grandparents."

"Liar!" Lex wrenched his arm from Clark's grip.

Clark simply grabbed his other arm. "What's going on, Lex?"

"Let me go, let go of me, you're in on this, too!"

Martha took a step closer, though she kept her distance from Lex's thrashing limbs. "He's been like this on and off since I saw him. He though I'd poisoned the coffee, he was hallucinating Julian—"

"Julian!" Lex punched Clark in the arm, grimacing a little when his fist landed. "What did you do to him?" He landed another punch.

"He's not making any sense," Martha said. "I'm worried he's going to hurt himself or someone else if we let him run away."

"He needs a hospital," Clark said.

"No! No hospitals! These people are professionals, they'll find me, they'll—"

"Clark," Martha spoke over him. "Get him up to his room." She was nervous about them fighting on the stairs—she knew Clark was fast, but he couldn't fly, and she couldn't help envisioning them tumbling down the stairs and Lex cracking his head open.

"Let me go!" Lex struggled hard as Clark pulled him up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

Tears pricked Martha's eyes. Someone had done this to him. Her precious son. They had taken his mind, made him go insane. She silently prayed the effects were temporary.

"You're okay, Lex, you're okay, we're going to take care of you." Clark lead him over to the bed and sat him down, keeping an arm around him so he couldn't leave. "What do we do, Mom?"

"I—I don't . . ." She shook her head, pacing in his room while Lex screamed and struggled. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "He's been cycling in and out of his episodes, he might settle down in a few minutes. How long can you hold him?"

Lex had started repeatedly punching Clark—in the hands, the stomach, the arms, though Clark kept dodging with his head so Lex never hit him in the face. Clark adjusted his grip. "I'll be fine. But he's gonna hurt himself."

"Mom!" Lex's crazed eyes met hers. "Make him let me go!" He landed another hit, this time hard enough that he cried out and cradled his hand to his chest.

"Do you want me to knock him out?" Clark asked.

"Mom! Please!" Lex cried.

"H-he doesn't need another concussion. Can you—restrain his arms?"

"No! I hate you, I hate all of you—"

"Sorry, buddy." Clark turned Lex around and pinned his arms behind his back. Lex thrashed with his head and torso, and Clark pushed him down on the bed so he was lying on his stomach.

Immobile, Lex started crying. "Ow, owww. Mom, please make him stop, he's hurting me, it hurts!"

His pain pierced straight through her. "Can you lighten up your grip?"

Clark shook his head. "Not unless he stops struggling."

"OWWW! Please, Mom!"

"Sweetheart," Martha said, taking a step closer and trying to meet his eyes, "try to calm down, take deep breaths—"

"I'm gonna die," Lex said, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die . . ."

"No," Clark said. "Stop that. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"Julian's dead, my mom's dead . . ." His whole body shook violently.

Martha felt a couple of sobs escape from her chest as well, but she forced herself to breathe deeply and approach her sons. She sat beside the bed and reached out toward Lex.

"No! Get away from me! NOOO!"

She flinched, but gently stroked his head. "Sh, shh, it's okay. I'm never gonna hurt you, baby."

"No . . . no . . ." His eyes fluttered closed, and a tear dripped from his soaked eyelashes.

"You're okay. You're safe. We've got you. You're safe." She leaned over and kissed his temple.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy," Clark chimed in. He shifted his grip so that he held both of Lex's arms in place with one hand, and used the other to rub his back. "We're not gonna let anyone hurt you."

Fresh tears filled Lex's eyes, but he stopped struggling, and his breathing became a bit more even. "Clark?" Lex said.

"Yeah?"

"You should call Chloe. She's the one who told me about Morgan Edge. She could be in danger, too."

He nodded, but kept holding Lex's arms. "Mom? Could you . . ."

"I'll bring you the phone." She gave Lex one more kiss on the cheek, stood to kiss Clark on the forehead, and left the room.