Title: Hurt and Alone Part 4--Secrets
Author: Ras
Rating: R, Warning--Character Abuse! Slash.
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Ep (Jitters)
Summary: Clark takes an injured Lex home from the hospital. Hurt/comfort ensues.
Disclaimer: Clark belongs to Lex, and Lex belongs to Clark . . . Oh, no wait, what I meant to say is that I don't own any of these characters. Smallville is copyright the WB and other corporations. No infringement is intended.
Author's notes: If you can not accept something that is slightly outside of cannon, you will not like this story. It's definite that Lionel Luthor is emotionally abusive, but an anonymous person inspired an idea in my head that maybe he's physically abusive as well. Although I don't feel that the physical abuse is clearly there in the tv show, I feel that it could be. So my Lex was physically and emotionally abused by his father. It just makes for better angst.
indicate a character's thoughts.
**
Clark nearly had to lift Lex out of the truck. He once again wrapped his arms around Lex's waist for support. Lex wrapped his left arm over Clark's shoulders, just to be safe. They slowly began the walk to the mansion door. "Bedroom or couch?" Clark asked. What he was really asking was if Lex thought he could actually make it up the stone staircase even with Clark's help.
Lex paused and contemplated the choice for a moment. "Bed," he decided. He planned on being passed out for a very, very long time, and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, Clark was strong; he would get him up the stairs somehow.
Somehow almost became Clark carrying Lex up the stairs, but the couple managed to make it to Lex's bedroom without a fall. Clark had never been in this room before. It suited Lex well, he decided. It was simple, yet refined. Purple silk covered the bed and the windows.
"Bathroom first," Lex whispered. Once in the dark bathroom, Lex did not head for the toilet as Clark had expected. Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out an amber prescription bottle. Lex handed it to Clark. "Open that up for me, Clark," he asked before filling a glass with water.
Clark examined the prescription carefully. It was for Lex from a Metropolis pharmacy about a year ago. The name of the drug was Vicoprofen. "Lex, the doctor said she didn't want you to take any pain medications because of your head injury."
Lex yanked the bottle back out of Clark's hand. "She also said my CAT scan was fine." He tried desperately to whirl the child-proof cap off, but it was impossible with only one hand. Damn it, I am not going to try and endure this without a narcotic. In frustration, Lex slammed the cap of the vial against the bathroom counter. To his surprise, the cap popped off, spewing pills everywhere. He glanced in the bottle, a few tablets remained inside. "Well that works," he grinned, very proud of himself. He downed the remaining pills followed with a swig of water. Lex felt himself swaying as his dizziness worsened. Clark wasn't close enough to grab him. Have to hold onto something before I fall, he thought as he reached for the countertop. The glass slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering to tiny fragments all over the bathroom floor. Within seconds Clark's arms were wrapped around him, his body pressed against Clark's.
"Can't have you falling on glass," Clark explained.
Lex glanced up, his face inches from his friends. "I'm sorry, Clark," he whispered. "I just really needed some."
"I know, Lex," Clark soothed him, pulling him into a hug. Lex buried his face in Clark's shoulder. "I know it has to hurt." Clark rubbed his hand gently up and down Lex's back Clark wondered why Lex had pain meds and what would happen since he took so many. He also wondered if Lex was going to pass-out on his shoulder. "Come on, we've got to get you to bed."
Lex plopped down on the bed. "Oh, bad," he winced as the pain shot through his head. He waited a second for the pain to subside, and then he gradually shifted his legs onto the bed. He paused a moment to catch his breath, then began clawing at his collar. Although his shirt was only buttoned at the top, it was stiff and tight. "Why do I always have to wear such uncomfortable clothes?"
"I didn't know that Lex Luthor HAD to do anything," Clark commented before assisting Lex with the stubborn button.
"I HAVE to do everything," Lex corrected. Clark lifted Lex's body up and slid the shirt out from beneath him. "Will you get me some pajamas?" he asked. "In the closet dresser, top drawer. I don't want to sleep in this." Clark disappeared behind the wall. "I do have to do everything, like . . . live in Smallville, and look good in front of the cameras, and do what he says, and take what he says I deserve, and not cry, and . . ." Lex trailed off.
"These okay?" Clark asked holding up a pair of black silk pajamas.
Lex couldn't see a thing because his vision was so blurry, but he whispered "Uh huh" anyway.
"You really hate your father, don't you?" Clark asked as he helped Lex slip one arm through the pajama top.
"Yes," Lex admitted.
"Why?" Clark asked, trying to relate.
"That is a very long conversation for a later date, Clark," Lex replied, his words fading as he spoke.
Clark nodded that he understood. Some secrets had to last longer than others. "You, uh, want me to, uh . . .?" Clark asked awkwardly staring at Lex's pants.
"Uh huh," Lex replied. He was starting to fall asleep; his eyes were starting to flutter.
Clark stepped back for a moment. Lex had asked him to help him with the pajamas, but Lex was slightly less than conscious. Did he really realize what he was asking? Clark knew he wanted to slip Lex's pants off, to rub his hand down Lex's strong thigh, but . . . not if Lex wasn't okay with it. Was Lex still capable of making a decision like that? Just change the pants, Clark. No looking, no touching. That's fair, right? Clark tried to reassure himself that it was. He unbuttoned and unzipped Lex's black pants, trying so hard not to get aroused. He lightly pulled the pants down past Lex's bottom. Too late, Clark thought as he felt a stir below. Just finish it, he commanded himself. The slower you are, the more you'll get turned on. Clark yanked Lex's pants off and forcefully pulled on the delicate silk pajama bottoms.
"There's probably a pair in there that will fit you, too," Lex whispered, surprising Clark that he was still conscious.
"Oh, no, I . . ."
"No, you need to sleep, too, Clark. You've had as long a day as I have. How . . . how did you manage not to get hurt?"
"I don't know," Clark lied. He hated lying, especially to Lex, but it was necessary.
"Well, you still need sleep, and pajamas," Lex demanded.
Clark decided that it was best to appease him. In this state, Lex could have anything that he wanted. He searched through Lex's pajama drawer and slipped into something himself. He came out a little self-conscious. He was not Lex Luthor and didn't have the right air to wear his clothes.
"You look good in blue," Lex commented. Clark could tell that the drugs were starting to kick in; Lex was slurring his words a little.
"Thanks," he whispered. To his surprise, Lex scooted over in the bed a little and patted the bed with his good arm.
"You sleep here," Lex drawled.
"Oh, Lex, I really think that . . ."
"Please, Clark?"
The request stunned him. To tell the truth, Clark wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Lex, but not like this. He'd be taking advantage of Lex if he did anything now. He's just asking you to lie next to him, Kent. You can keep a better eye on his breathing that way, anyhow. And . . . you've slept on him before. He was sober when he agreed to that . . . there's nothing wrong with just laying there. Clark crawled onto the bed next to Lex. He pulled the covers up over both of them. "Okay?" Clark asked.
Amazingly, Lex rolled over onto his good arm, burying his head in Clark's chest. "Clark, make the bed stop spinning," he begged.
"I can't, Lex," Clark explained. Lex didn't complain. He did, however, bend his leg up on top of Clark's. Don't get excited, Clark chided. He'll be able to feel it if you get excited. Lex's leg rubbed up and down Clark's slowly.
"Clark?"
"Yes, Lex?" Clark asked, a little embarrassed.
"I love you," he admitted softly, under his breath. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I do."
"It's okay, Lex." Clark kissed Lex ever so gently on his bald head. "I love you, too." But it was too late, Lex had already passed out.
**
"What the Hell are you two doing?" Lionel Luthor demanded to know as he shoved open the bedroom doors.
Clark was startled into consciousness. "Mr. Luthor . . ." He gently nudged Lex awake.
"Glad to see you, too, Dad," Lex said facetiously. "Now, get out," he commanded. "I don't want you here," he said firmly to his father. How dare he show up now? Clark was the one who had been there for him, and Clark was the only person he wanted with him right now. His father had no right to bust in all judgmental, not after the way Lionel had abandoned him.
"Excuse me, young man? What did you just say to me?" Lionel challenged.
"You have no right to be here, not now." Lex was furious. His fuse was short and he didn't feel like playing their pretend game. "Get out!"
Lionel defied the "order" from his son with a smile, approaching the bed. "Would you care to explain to me why Dr. Parker called me this morning?"
"Dr. Parker, the director of Metropolis General?" Lex asked, his fear beginning to show through.
"You can imagine how awful it made me look when I had to admit that I didn't even know that my son had been in his hospital."
"Clark, wait outside," Lex directed.
"What?" Clark asked, confused.
"Wait outside. Please, Clark," Lex begged. He didn't want Clark to see what he knew was coming. He could never look Clark in the eye again if he knew . . .
Clark glanced with concern between father and son. "Okay," he said. He left worrying about these new family dynamics, unsure of what to do. The heavy stone door slammed shut, echoing his fear.
"Do you have any idea how bad you made me look today?" Lionel scolded.
"I'm sorry, Sir." The time for games was over. Now, facing his angry father alone and already injured, his only concern was saving himself from a few extra bruises.
"Stand up," his father ordered.
Lex obeyed to his best ability. He was so dizzy still; he could only make it a few steps from the bed. He quickly assessed the situation, not good. He was already on the verge of collapsing, and he only hand one arm to defend himself with. Not good at all.
That's when the dreaded hand raised up, ready to strike. "Don't you ever," the first blow was delivered square on Lex's cheek. What normally would have been mild smack was enough to send Lex reeling backward. "Oh no, you don't," Lionel stated as he pulled his son upright by his bandaged arm. Lex screamed in agony. The shoulder had been pulled, now he was sure that it was pulled right out of its socket. "Don't you ever, ever embarrass me like that again." Lionel struck Lex's face to punctuate every word. Finally, Lionel released the tortured arm, sending Lex flying to the floor. He slammed his head, including his eye, on the corner of an end table on the way down. The eye swelled up immediately. "Do you understand me?" Lionel chose to bring attention to this question with swift kicks to Lex's abdomen.
Clark paced up and down the hallway. More than anything he wanted to know what was going on in that room. He could very easily use his x-ray vision and find out, but . . . Lex had told him to wait outside. He had told him that for a reason: he didn't want Clark to know. Clark was sure they were fighting, but . . . it was none of his business. Lex had made that perfectly clear. He thought he heard Lex scream . . . It's just your imagination, Clark, he told himself. Still, what if it wasn't? What if Lex really was in trouble? Surely his father wouldn't . . . but what if he was? Clark couldn't take it anymore, he burst into the door. To his chagrin, Lex was balled up on the floor in obvious pain. Lionel said nothing; he didn't even acknowledge Clark's presence. He simply slid out the doors.
Clark rushed to Lex's side. The injuries were severe. If only he had stayed, or come back sooner . . . then Lex wouldn't be hurt like this. He could have protected Lex, but instead, he stood in the hallway like an idiot. The entire time he just stood there while Lionel Luthor beat poor Lex. I'm sorry, Lex, Clark apologized mentally, but he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for deserting his friend.
"Lex," Clark called him back to consciousness. Lex's right eye fluttered slightly; the left was nearly swollen shut.
"Clark???" Lex questioned through his confusion.
"We've got to get you to the hospital," Clark said.
"No," Lex said adamantly. "You don't go to the hospital for this kind of injury, Clark," he added.
"But . . . you're hurt . . ."
"I've taken a lot worse."
Clark swallowed hard. Had Lex really just told him what he thought he heard? Lionel Luthor was abusing his son, had been abusing his son. That did explain so much: why Lex had a private and confidential doctor on call at all times, why Lex knew so much about the treatment of bruises and concussions, why Lex had pain killers on hand, why Lex got so scared whenever his father was around. My God, no wonder Lex needs love so much!
"How long has your father been abusing you like this?" Clark asked straight out.
"As long as I can remember," Lex admitted. "It got a lot worse when I lost my hair. I guess he lost whatever love he did have for me the day I became a freak."
Now Clark felt lightheaded. My fault, he thought once again.
"I guess it maximized right after Mom died. I lost my mother, best friend, and protector the day she died."
"I'm sorry, Lex."
"Not your fault," he whispered through the pain.
Clark swooped Lex up into his arms. Screw hiding his powers; Lex needed him. Lex hissed with the pain of movement. Clark carried the balled up Lex to the bed and gently laid him down. "How can I help you, Lex?"
"Ice," Lex whispered, "for my eye."
"Be right back with some," Clark zipped out of the room.
"Clark," Lex called after him.
"Yeah," Clark stuck his head back through the door.
"Can I please have some more pain pills?"
Clark knew it wasn't a good idea, but . . .
"Please, Clark?"
How could he say no to that? "Only one," Clark said before exiting the room once again.
Lex made a mental tally of his injuries. He had a black eye, his concussion was definitely a lot worse than before, a dislocated shoulder, and one or two cracked ribs. He hoped that they weren't really cracked, but based on how painful it was for him to breath and how shallow and fast his respirations were; Lex was sure he had broken a rib. This was bad. Maybe he'd have Clark call Dr. McGivens. He could trust Dr. McGivens not to ask questions.
**
Lex was passed out when Clark returned. Clark gently tried to rouse him, but Lex was out cold. Unsure of what to do, Clark decided to let Lex sleep and just take care of him as best he could. He lightly placed the ice pack over Lex's black eye. Worried and afraid, Clark brought a chair to Lex's bedside. He would sit there and just watch Lex. As long as he keeps breathing, right? Clark held the ice pack in place with one hand and let the other hand trail down to Lex's. He took the limp hand in his and squeezed tight, "I'll never let him hurt you like this again, Lex."
**
The world slowly began to filter in through Lex's eyes. Everything was blurry, and his left eye wouldn't open at all. He tried to make out the room. Where am I? Lex wondered. My room, he realized when he saw the black sheets. The sharp pain that greeted a deep breath was enough of an indication that his father been around. He tried to figure out how badly he'd been hurt this time. Everything hurt: his head, his eye, his mouth, his shoulder, his ribs. Dad had done a bang up job this time. That was only appropriate; Luthors didn't do anything halfway.
Lex felt something else through the pain, something good. Someone was squeezing his hand. He turned his head to find the owner of the hand. His pain spiked with the movement, but he tried to make out the figure at his bedside anyway. "Clark?" Lex whispered in confusion. His lip was busted; he decided based on the pain that came with trying to use it.
"You're awake," Clark smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Like Hell," Lex admitted. "What . . . what are you doing here?"
"Well . . . I . . ." Clark was confused now, too. "I couldn't just leave you like this!"
"What happened?"
"What do you mean what happened? What do you remember?" Clark was suddenly very concerned. How big a hole had the head trauma punched in Lex's memory?
Lex tried to think. Damn it, Clark, why are you asking me such hard questions? It's hard to think with a concussion. It hurts to talk. Hell, it hurts to breathe. The fog in his mind cleared a little and he did remember something. "At the hospital . . . alone . . ."
Clark couldn't believe it. Lex didn't remember anything. They had bonded so much in the last 24 hours, and Lex didn't remember any of it. To Lex, it was like it had never happened. Should he tell him? It would embarrass Lex so much if he told him everything that he knew. Lex didn't deserve to be hurt any more. But, did he have to pretend like it hadn't happen, like he didn't know that Lex loved him, like Lionel Luthor wasn't abusing his son? After all this, did he have to go back to exactly the way things were, pretending certain feelings weren't there? But things could never be the same again. He did know Lex's secrets. Most importantly, now, he knew how much Lex needed him. Clark made a silent vow to always be there for him.
"You're not alone, Lex. You'll never be alone again; I promise."
**The End**
Author: Ras
Rating: R, Warning--Character Abuse! Slash.
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Ep (Jitters)
Summary: Clark takes an injured Lex home from the hospital. Hurt/comfort ensues.
Disclaimer: Clark belongs to Lex, and Lex belongs to Clark . . . Oh, no wait, what I meant to say is that I don't own any of these characters. Smallville is copyright the WB and other corporations. No infringement is intended.
Author's notes: If you can not accept something that is slightly outside of cannon, you will not like this story. It's definite that Lionel Luthor is emotionally abusive, but an anonymous person inspired an idea in my head that maybe he's physically abusive as well. Although I don't feel that the physical abuse is clearly there in the tv show, I feel that it could be. So my Lex was physically and emotionally abused by his father. It just makes for better angst.
indicate a character's thoughts.
**
Clark nearly had to lift Lex out of the truck. He once again wrapped his arms around Lex's waist for support. Lex wrapped his left arm over Clark's shoulders, just to be safe. They slowly began the walk to the mansion door. "Bedroom or couch?" Clark asked. What he was really asking was if Lex thought he could actually make it up the stone staircase even with Clark's help.
Lex paused and contemplated the choice for a moment. "Bed," he decided. He planned on being passed out for a very, very long time, and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, Clark was strong; he would get him up the stairs somehow.
Somehow almost became Clark carrying Lex up the stairs, but the couple managed to make it to Lex's bedroom without a fall. Clark had never been in this room before. It suited Lex well, he decided. It was simple, yet refined. Purple silk covered the bed and the windows.
"Bathroom first," Lex whispered. Once in the dark bathroom, Lex did not head for the toilet as Clark had expected. Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out an amber prescription bottle. Lex handed it to Clark. "Open that up for me, Clark," he asked before filling a glass with water.
Clark examined the prescription carefully. It was for Lex from a Metropolis pharmacy about a year ago. The name of the drug was Vicoprofen. "Lex, the doctor said she didn't want you to take any pain medications because of your head injury."
Lex yanked the bottle back out of Clark's hand. "She also said my CAT scan was fine." He tried desperately to whirl the child-proof cap off, but it was impossible with only one hand. Damn it, I am not going to try and endure this without a narcotic. In frustration, Lex slammed the cap of the vial against the bathroom counter. To his surprise, the cap popped off, spewing pills everywhere. He glanced in the bottle, a few tablets remained inside. "Well that works," he grinned, very proud of himself. He downed the remaining pills followed with a swig of water. Lex felt himself swaying as his dizziness worsened. Clark wasn't close enough to grab him. Have to hold onto something before I fall, he thought as he reached for the countertop. The glass slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering to tiny fragments all over the bathroom floor. Within seconds Clark's arms were wrapped around him, his body pressed against Clark's.
"Can't have you falling on glass," Clark explained.
Lex glanced up, his face inches from his friends. "I'm sorry, Clark," he whispered. "I just really needed some."
"I know, Lex," Clark soothed him, pulling him into a hug. Lex buried his face in Clark's shoulder. "I know it has to hurt." Clark rubbed his hand gently up and down Lex's back Clark wondered why Lex had pain meds and what would happen since he took so many. He also wondered if Lex was going to pass-out on his shoulder. "Come on, we've got to get you to bed."
Lex plopped down on the bed. "Oh, bad," he winced as the pain shot through his head. He waited a second for the pain to subside, and then he gradually shifted his legs onto the bed. He paused a moment to catch his breath, then began clawing at his collar. Although his shirt was only buttoned at the top, it was stiff and tight. "Why do I always have to wear such uncomfortable clothes?"
"I didn't know that Lex Luthor HAD to do anything," Clark commented before assisting Lex with the stubborn button.
"I HAVE to do everything," Lex corrected. Clark lifted Lex's body up and slid the shirt out from beneath him. "Will you get me some pajamas?" he asked. "In the closet dresser, top drawer. I don't want to sleep in this." Clark disappeared behind the wall. "I do have to do everything, like . . . live in Smallville, and look good in front of the cameras, and do what he says, and take what he says I deserve, and not cry, and . . ." Lex trailed off.
"These okay?" Clark asked holding up a pair of black silk pajamas.
Lex couldn't see a thing because his vision was so blurry, but he whispered "Uh huh" anyway.
"You really hate your father, don't you?" Clark asked as he helped Lex slip one arm through the pajama top.
"Yes," Lex admitted.
"Why?" Clark asked, trying to relate.
"That is a very long conversation for a later date, Clark," Lex replied, his words fading as he spoke.
Clark nodded that he understood. Some secrets had to last longer than others. "You, uh, want me to, uh . . .?" Clark asked awkwardly staring at Lex's pants.
"Uh huh," Lex replied. He was starting to fall asleep; his eyes were starting to flutter.
Clark stepped back for a moment. Lex had asked him to help him with the pajamas, but Lex was slightly less than conscious. Did he really realize what he was asking? Clark knew he wanted to slip Lex's pants off, to rub his hand down Lex's strong thigh, but . . . not if Lex wasn't okay with it. Was Lex still capable of making a decision like that? Just change the pants, Clark. No looking, no touching. That's fair, right? Clark tried to reassure himself that it was. He unbuttoned and unzipped Lex's black pants, trying so hard not to get aroused. He lightly pulled the pants down past Lex's bottom. Too late, Clark thought as he felt a stir below. Just finish it, he commanded himself. The slower you are, the more you'll get turned on. Clark yanked Lex's pants off and forcefully pulled on the delicate silk pajama bottoms.
"There's probably a pair in there that will fit you, too," Lex whispered, surprising Clark that he was still conscious.
"Oh, no, I . . ."
"No, you need to sleep, too, Clark. You've had as long a day as I have. How . . . how did you manage not to get hurt?"
"I don't know," Clark lied. He hated lying, especially to Lex, but it was necessary.
"Well, you still need sleep, and pajamas," Lex demanded.
Clark decided that it was best to appease him. In this state, Lex could have anything that he wanted. He searched through Lex's pajama drawer and slipped into something himself. He came out a little self-conscious. He was not Lex Luthor and didn't have the right air to wear his clothes.
"You look good in blue," Lex commented. Clark could tell that the drugs were starting to kick in; Lex was slurring his words a little.
"Thanks," he whispered. To his surprise, Lex scooted over in the bed a little and patted the bed with his good arm.
"You sleep here," Lex drawled.
"Oh, Lex, I really think that . . ."
"Please, Clark?"
The request stunned him. To tell the truth, Clark wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Lex, but not like this. He'd be taking advantage of Lex if he did anything now. He's just asking you to lie next to him, Kent. You can keep a better eye on his breathing that way, anyhow. And . . . you've slept on him before. He was sober when he agreed to that . . . there's nothing wrong with just laying there. Clark crawled onto the bed next to Lex. He pulled the covers up over both of them. "Okay?" Clark asked.
Amazingly, Lex rolled over onto his good arm, burying his head in Clark's chest. "Clark, make the bed stop spinning," he begged.
"I can't, Lex," Clark explained. Lex didn't complain. He did, however, bend his leg up on top of Clark's. Don't get excited, Clark chided. He'll be able to feel it if you get excited. Lex's leg rubbed up and down Clark's slowly.
"Clark?"
"Yes, Lex?" Clark asked, a little embarrassed.
"I love you," he admitted softly, under his breath. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I do."
"It's okay, Lex." Clark kissed Lex ever so gently on his bald head. "I love you, too." But it was too late, Lex had already passed out.
**
"What the Hell are you two doing?" Lionel Luthor demanded to know as he shoved open the bedroom doors.
Clark was startled into consciousness. "Mr. Luthor . . ." He gently nudged Lex awake.
"Glad to see you, too, Dad," Lex said facetiously. "Now, get out," he commanded. "I don't want you here," he said firmly to his father. How dare he show up now? Clark was the one who had been there for him, and Clark was the only person he wanted with him right now. His father had no right to bust in all judgmental, not after the way Lionel had abandoned him.
"Excuse me, young man? What did you just say to me?" Lionel challenged.
"You have no right to be here, not now." Lex was furious. His fuse was short and he didn't feel like playing their pretend game. "Get out!"
Lionel defied the "order" from his son with a smile, approaching the bed. "Would you care to explain to me why Dr. Parker called me this morning?"
"Dr. Parker, the director of Metropolis General?" Lex asked, his fear beginning to show through.
"You can imagine how awful it made me look when I had to admit that I didn't even know that my son had been in his hospital."
"Clark, wait outside," Lex directed.
"What?" Clark asked, confused.
"Wait outside. Please, Clark," Lex begged. He didn't want Clark to see what he knew was coming. He could never look Clark in the eye again if he knew . . .
Clark glanced with concern between father and son. "Okay," he said. He left worrying about these new family dynamics, unsure of what to do. The heavy stone door slammed shut, echoing his fear.
"Do you have any idea how bad you made me look today?" Lionel scolded.
"I'm sorry, Sir." The time for games was over. Now, facing his angry father alone and already injured, his only concern was saving himself from a few extra bruises.
"Stand up," his father ordered.
Lex obeyed to his best ability. He was so dizzy still; he could only make it a few steps from the bed. He quickly assessed the situation, not good. He was already on the verge of collapsing, and he only hand one arm to defend himself with. Not good at all.
That's when the dreaded hand raised up, ready to strike. "Don't you ever," the first blow was delivered square on Lex's cheek. What normally would have been mild smack was enough to send Lex reeling backward. "Oh no, you don't," Lionel stated as he pulled his son upright by his bandaged arm. Lex screamed in agony. The shoulder had been pulled, now he was sure that it was pulled right out of its socket. "Don't you ever, ever embarrass me like that again." Lionel struck Lex's face to punctuate every word. Finally, Lionel released the tortured arm, sending Lex flying to the floor. He slammed his head, including his eye, on the corner of an end table on the way down. The eye swelled up immediately. "Do you understand me?" Lionel chose to bring attention to this question with swift kicks to Lex's abdomen.
Clark paced up and down the hallway. More than anything he wanted to know what was going on in that room. He could very easily use his x-ray vision and find out, but . . . Lex had told him to wait outside. He had told him that for a reason: he didn't want Clark to know. Clark was sure they were fighting, but . . . it was none of his business. Lex had made that perfectly clear. He thought he heard Lex scream . . . It's just your imagination, Clark, he told himself. Still, what if it wasn't? What if Lex really was in trouble? Surely his father wouldn't . . . but what if he was? Clark couldn't take it anymore, he burst into the door. To his chagrin, Lex was balled up on the floor in obvious pain. Lionel said nothing; he didn't even acknowledge Clark's presence. He simply slid out the doors.
Clark rushed to Lex's side. The injuries were severe. If only he had stayed, or come back sooner . . . then Lex wouldn't be hurt like this. He could have protected Lex, but instead, he stood in the hallway like an idiot. The entire time he just stood there while Lionel Luthor beat poor Lex. I'm sorry, Lex, Clark apologized mentally, but he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for deserting his friend.
"Lex," Clark called him back to consciousness. Lex's right eye fluttered slightly; the left was nearly swollen shut.
"Clark???" Lex questioned through his confusion.
"We've got to get you to the hospital," Clark said.
"No," Lex said adamantly. "You don't go to the hospital for this kind of injury, Clark," he added.
"But . . . you're hurt . . ."
"I've taken a lot worse."
Clark swallowed hard. Had Lex really just told him what he thought he heard? Lionel Luthor was abusing his son, had been abusing his son. That did explain so much: why Lex had a private and confidential doctor on call at all times, why Lex knew so much about the treatment of bruises and concussions, why Lex had pain killers on hand, why Lex got so scared whenever his father was around. My God, no wonder Lex needs love so much!
"How long has your father been abusing you like this?" Clark asked straight out.
"As long as I can remember," Lex admitted. "It got a lot worse when I lost my hair. I guess he lost whatever love he did have for me the day I became a freak."
Now Clark felt lightheaded. My fault, he thought once again.
"I guess it maximized right after Mom died. I lost my mother, best friend, and protector the day she died."
"I'm sorry, Lex."
"Not your fault," he whispered through the pain.
Clark swooped Lex up into his arms. Screw hiding his powers; Lex needed him. Lex hissed with the pain of movement. Clark carried the balled up Lex to the bed and gently laid him down. "How can I help you, Lex?"
"Ice," Lex whispered, "for my eye."
"Be right back with some," Clark zipped out of the room.
"Clark," Lex called after him.
"Yeah," Clark stuck his head back through the door.
"Can I please have some more pain pills?"
Clark knew it wasn't a good idea, but . . .
"Please, Clark?"
How could he say no to that? "Only one," Clark said before exiting the room once again.
Lex made a mental tally of his injuries. He had a black eye, his concussion was definitely a lot worse than before, a dislocated shoulder, and one or two cracked ribs. He hoped that they weren't really cracked, but based on how painful it was for him to breath and how shallow and fast his respirations were; Lex was sure he had broken a rib. This was bad. Maybe he'd have Clark call Dr. McGivens. He could trust Dr. McGivens not to ask questions.
**
Lex was passed out when Clark returned. Clark gently tried to rouse him, but Lex was out cold. Unsure of what to do, Clark decided to let Lex sleep and just take care of him as best he could. He lightly placed the ice pack over Lex's black eye. Worried and afraid, Clark brought a chair to Lex's bedside. He would sit there and just watch Lex. As long as he keeps breathing, right? Clark held the ice pack in place with one hand and let the other hand trail down to Lex's. He took the limp hand in his and squeezed tight, "I'll never let him hurt you like this again, Lex."
**
The world slowly began to filter in through Lex's eyes. Everything was blurry, and his left eye wouldn't open at all. He tried to make out the room. Where am I? Lex wondered. My room, he realized when he saw the black sheets. The sharp pain that greeted a deep breath was enough of an indication that his father been around. He tried to figure out how badly he'd been hurt this time. Everything hurt: his head, his eye, his mouth, his shoulder, his ribs. Dad had done a bang up job this time. That was only appropriate; Luthors didn't do anything halfway.
Lex felt something else through the pain, something good. Someone was squeezing his hand. He turned his head to find the owner of the hand. His pain spiked with the movement, but he tried to make out the figure at his bedside anyway. "Clark?" Lex whispered in confusion. His lip was busted; he decided based on the pain that came with trying to use it.
"You're awake," Clark smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Like Hell," Lex admitted. "What . . . what are you doing here?"
"Well . . . I . . ." Clark was confused now, too. "I couldn't just leave you like this!"
"What happened?"
"What do you mean what happened? What do you remember?" Clark was suddenly very concerned. How big a hole had the head trauma punched in Lex's memory?
Lex tried to think. Damn it, Clark, why are you asking me such hard questions? It's hard to think with a concussion. It hurts to talk. Hell, it hurts to breathe. The fog in his mind cleared a little and he did remember something. "At the hospital . . . alone . . ."
Clark couldn't believe it. Lex didn't remember anything. They had bonded so much in the last 24 hours, and Lex didn't remember any of it. To Lex, it was like it had never happened. Should he tell him? It would embarrass Lex so much if he told him everything that he knew. Lex didn't deserve to be hurt any more. But, did he have to pretend like it hadn't happen, like he didn't know that Lex loved him, like Lionel Luthor wasn't abusing his son? After all this, did he have to go back to exactly the way things were, pretending certain feelings weren't there? But things could never be the same again. He did know Lex's secrets. Most importantly, now, he knew how much Lex needed him. Clark made a silent vow to always be there for him.
"You're not alone, Lex. You'll never be alone again; I promise."
**The End**