Being a Luthor
by Celli Lane

Feedback: Positive or negative both welcome. celli@fanfiction.net
Category: Vignette; Post-ep to "Jitters"
Rating: PG-13 for language
Spoiler: Lots for "Jitters."
Summary: This is Lex. This is Lex with a concussion. Any questions?
Archiving: Primarily on my fic page, http://www.geocities.com/hcdoom/
Otherwise, just let me know where so I can come visit it.
Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar Gough Ink,
Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted people with lawyers. Bummer.

***

"Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible
poverty." - Mother Teresa

***

Lex stood as still as possible while his father "hugged" him. Lex
Luthor, human shield, he thought as Lionel waved the reporters off
with the excuse--hell, the flat-out lie--of tending to his son.

A thousand thoughts were running through his mind. How the hell had
Clark pulled two grown men up onto that walkway? Adrenaline, my ass.
How did his father and Clark's know each other? Neither had mentioned
it before. Why had Clark been playing detective with those blueprints?
What kind of green mist had they been using on Level Three, and how
long before Chloe Sullivan found out about it and started pestering him
for an interview?

Mostly, though, the thoughts flew right past. He couldn't stop staring
at the Kents. The way they felt about each other would have been
obvious from Metropolis. Right now, if he could get away with it, he'd
shove Clark off that walkway for a chance to replace him in the center
of that parental embrace.

And what did that say about Lex, that he had these thoughts about his
best goddamn friend?

Just then, his father's hand rubbed too close to the goose egg at the
base of his head, and Lex's knees buckled. The pain and nausea that
had been lurking around the edges, banished by the pure terror of his
fall, came rushing back with a vengeance.

"Okay, Dad." He shoved away and managed to stand on his own. Lionel
would not see him fall. Not ever. "They got their photo op. You can
go now."

His father opened his mouth, but Lex just held up a hand. "I have a
plant to run. And hostages to take care of. Go shake some hands, make
some points, okay?"

Lionel gave him a look that warned Lex clearly he'd hear of this again
and stalked off to play charming to Gabe Sullivan. Lex noted in
passing that Sullivan was still holding onto his daughter's hand as
though he'd never let go. He looked away sharply--too sharply, setting
off another round of banging in his head--and started towards the
Kents. He had things he had to say.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent." He didn't offer a hand; he'd had enough rejection
for one day. "I appreciate your support today."

"We didn't do anything," Martha Kent said, both arms still firmly
around her son. "You risked your life."

"Clark saved my life." He met his friend's eyes as clearly as
possible. If Clark could lie to him about, well, whatever, Lex could
pretend he didn't want to be Clark. No one would ever know. "Thank
you."

"Are you kidding? You didn't know about--" Clark looked around,
making sure no one was in earshot, and dropped his voice. "You didn't
know about Level Three. You came in there knowing Earl would kill
you."

"I would've thought of something." He even managed a smirk. He could
tell because Jonathan was looking at him with scorn again.

"You were great in there, Lex." Clark clapped him on the shoulder, and
the world around him went gray for a moment.

"Whoa!" Clark said, grabbing Lex's arm to hold him upright. After a
moment, Lex felt Martha's arm slipping around his waist. If it weren't
so comforting, he'd be humiliated.

"Lex?" she was asking. "What's wrong?"

Clark looked grim. "Earl hit him over the head. I didn't know it was
that bad--"

"Never hit a bald guy on the head." Lex managed another half-smile.
"I'm fine, really."

Martha gave him one of those motherly looks she usually saved for
Clark, and Lex felt irrationally happy. "You need medical attention,
Lex."

Jonathan's hand settled reluctantly onto Lex's back. "Let's get you
over to the doctor--"

"No, I want to make sure all the students are okay first." The doctors
were fussing over Whitney right now, and Lex could see Lana and the
jock's mother standing behind Whitney, looking concerned. He leaned a
little more heavily against Martha. Her arm tightened around him, and
he noticed briefly that she smelled like lemons before the act of
smelling triggered another attack of nausea. "Where's my dad? Can't
fall down if he's here." The world was beginning to look pleasantly
fuzzy. "Hey, can I come home with you?"

Everyone was looking at him very strangely. "What?" he asked
defensively.

"Nothing." Martha started guiding him towards the doctors. "I think
they're done with Whitney now. Let's make sure they take care of your
head.

"Okay." He moved a few steps forward obediently, then stopped
abruptly. "Clark? Know what?"

"What?" Clark said from a very long way away.

"I lied. To Earl. When I said I'd take him to Level Three."

"I know. I was there."

"I lied. But I did it for the right reasons. What does that make me?"

"A good guy?" Clark suggested.

"Nope." They started moving again. "Makes me a Luthor. Damn it."

At that, his head cleared slightly, and he pushed against the arms
holding him up. "No, it's okay. I can walk. Thank you."

He was a Luthor, and no one was going to say he couldn't make it on his
own.

--the end--

Author's Notes: Special thanks to Chris, who sucked me into the fandom by writing "Runaway Trains at 3 AM," and Perri, who sucked me into Lex-worship by writing "Reasons Unknown." (What do you mean, you haven't read them yet? They're on my Favorite Stories page. Go! Go now! *g*) Also thanks to my Horsechickly beta readers, especially Lizbet who came up with the summary. And to Lowen & Navarro for writing the most cheerfully depressing music I know.