AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
FANDOM: Smallville
GENRE: Action/Adventure, Suspense, Itty-bitty Angst, Romance and Horror
PAIRINGS: JK/MK, LnLg/WF, CK/LxLr.
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: We're still going!
AUTHOR'S THANKS: First of all to my wonderful beta reader, FaItHzAnGeL {I'm SO waiting for the next chapters of 'Soul Searching' and 'More than Just Being There'} who took this in yesterday, spent all night betaing it, and came through in time this morning. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Any mistakes are mine.
#2. Also a BIG-BOOTY THANKS to everyone who mentioned this story in emails and/or reviews asking me, begging me, then finally DEMANDING that I post the next chapter. It got my ass in gear.
AUTHOR'S APOLOGIES: 1. Sorry for all of the mistakes still very much there in the last chapter. Things often roll by so quickly beneath my eyes that I don't even see them.
2. Sorry my stupid self took so long to get this next chapter out. Between RL [and a great, yummy boyfriend] and my original novel [damn plot and characters changing over and over] and other CLex fics [and whatnots] catching all my attention, I just can't seem to keep focus on my babies [ILS and this]. I'm altering different habits and making these two a priority, so please, don't worry about me not posting more devotedly.
FEEDBACK: Please!! I know I don't deserve it, but I'll try my best to make you all happy. Whatever you want!! Want my prized and beloved Koontz/King/Grisham collection? Or maybe my key chains? My Gary Oldman pictures, maybe? My hair? You want my hair? Well, okay. I really do think that Lex is incredible sexy and hey, it works for Sinead.
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com
Mansion on the Hill: A Shipper's Alternate Ending to "Cool"
CHAPTER FOUR – Even Closer
"Oh,
my God!" Martha ran to her hurt little boy, so pale and still, and
pulled his limp form into a strong embrace.
My
baby, my little baby.
"Clark! Honey?!"
No response.
"Oh, please… Jonny! Do something…" She looked up to find
a panicked expression matching her own twisting her husband's face.
He dropped to his knees next to them and lightly touched two fingers to
Clark's forehead. Martha could barely swallow at the emotion, the
worry in Jon's eyes.
"I kn-knew it w-would happen," he started softly.
Her chin trembled. The stutter. Sometime during Clark's second
year with them it disappeared and she hadn't heard it since.
Oh,
Christ, Jon. Not now.
"I kn-kn-knew."
Oh,
love, it's not your fault.
"If he tr-tried t-t-too hard… With his… His s-sight.
I kn-knew it was going to hurt him. I felt it in my g-gut, Martha."
"We both did, Jon. It's not-"
"Then why d-d-didn't we t-try harder t-to stop him?!" he stammered angrily.
"Because we knew it wouldn't do a damn thing!" she snapped back, knowing
he needed that tone to jar him out of his temporary self-pity.
She always needed consoling, he always needed harsh reality.
She looked back at Clark, her heart feeling strangely separated from her
body. It hurt to understand that neither of them could help their
little boy to control himself. They were no longer responsible for
his actions, could not convince him not take a chance when he felt
it fully necessary, but still felt the full weight of the consequences
when something went wrong; whether it ended up making more trouble or hurting
Clark. They always felt as if they hadn't tried hard enough.
Now, however, was not the time for the guilt trip.
He closed his eyes and nodded. "You're r-right… I k-know."
She softened her tone. "He said he heard something, didn't he?"
Jonathon shrugged helplessly. "He s-said something ah-b-bout a cr-crash,
then seeing L-L-L-"
"Lex," she supplied gently. She was shaking horribly. Her husband's
long-absent ailment coming back now and getting worse by the sentence.
God.
"But, M-M-M… He was s-so p-p-pale… I buh-barely heard him.
I was j-just so d-damn worried."
"He strained too hard, that's all." She was amazed at both Jon's
weakness and her own strength. This was not how it was supposed to
be. She needed Jon's strength right now. She'd never had to
be the strong one before and didn't know if she could handle it.
You
have to be, she scolded herself. For Clark. For Jonny.
For Lex and Lana and Whitney and who knows who else is in this deathtrap
castle.
She swallowed. "He'll be fine."
Jonathon looked up. "But how s-soon? S-s-soon enough t-to save
us? T-to save the kuh-kids?"
She looked down at Clark, relieved to notice that color was beginning to
repaint his still too pale face, and closed her eyes.
Please,
let him wake up soon…
"I don't know."
Jonathon took her hand in his. It was shaking.
+_+_+_+_+
It
took him longer than he thought it would to pull himself up in the dumbwaiter,
finding as soon as he started that the relic was purely for show and elegance.
Though the hatch in the kitchen had been well-oiled, the pulley systems
at the top and bottom were very obviously not. The constant creaks
and squeaks were hindering his speed and he wondered just how long this
particular piece had been out of service.
Fucking
house. Fucking freaking goddamn rich fucks.
Almost five whole minutes infra the beginning of his mini-voyage, he reached
the second floor, cold hands finally separating themselves from the fraying,
icy rope. Careful not touch the metal hatch in front of him, he used
his jacket covered elbow to lift the door into the open position, hearing
the click of the automatic stand as it popped into place.
He steadied himself, preparing to pull out of the service lift by gripping
the edges of the wall but the instant his fingers met wall, he felt the
live wires and stilled. None had ever been this strong and it took
him a moment to realize that it was because there was two people close
by. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the two, sensing their
heat closest and to his right. There was another charge, also pretty
close but still further down the hall and… and it seemed to be slowly moving
backwards,
away from him.
The two together had to be Lana and Whitney. If the single heat source
was Luthor, it would only make sense that Shawn's classmates were the others.
After all, Lex had been calling for them.
He frowned, catching another blip on his screen. It was even larger
than what he guessed to be Lang and Fordman, but much farther away and
stationary.
Hmmm…
The largest charge he'd deal with later.
Shawn crawled out of the service lift and after debating for a moment,
reached in and grabbed the flashlight. He looked down at his hands.
They were blue again and shaking.
Like
I never even… Like I never even took the heat from Sermi…
He knew what he needed before he attacked Lex, before he let revenge take
its sweet toll upon the Luthor fortune and estate.
Lana…
He needed to be calm, possessed and clear-headed.
Whitney…
He wanted to kill the bald bastard as slowly as possible, didn't care if
it was the last thing he ever did. Dying suddenly didn't matter.
Look
at me… What the fuck do I have to lose?
This was no longer about him staying alive, warm.
Pappa…
Maybe after he killed Lex, if he made it past tonight, it would become
his own life again. Maybe. But right now… It was all
for his hero. His hero transformed into a devil of flesh and blood…
His own flesh and blood. Turned against him by a cold and uncaring,
tainted hand.
A hand tainted by lineage, by lessons from heartless ancestors passed down
throughout the year. Now that lineage, the end of the line- the flesh
and blood of Lionel Luthor- roamed these halls, breathing the same air
as Shawn, seeing the same rooms and stepping on the same floors.
Pappa…
He would be the martyr if necessary. He had loved his grandfather
with all his puerile heart and soul. Lionel had taken that gentle
defender away, replacing him with the worst possible view of humankind's
filth and scum; showing the core, the potential of rottenness within every
mortal alive.
The Luthors would pay dearly for giving him the unwanted insight, but first
Shawn needed heat. Lana and Whitney could provide him enough to stay
sane while finding Alexander and starting on the boy's torture.
He ducked down, hand briefly skimming the deep red wood of the floor beneath
him and, grinned. He would follow the wired path towards where Lana
and Whitney awaited, unknowing. They were close and still
not moving away.
All
the easier to catch.
Yes, the heat from his 'friends' would make the beginning of the anguish
possible.
He closed his eyes.
...Luthor's wet and bloody screams of piercing agony; the pained body
writhing in beautiful desperation beneath him...
...the shameful and cowardly pleads for mercy; the priceless tears, each
a drop of gold in payment of the devil for his grandsire's soul...
...the eroticism of death to the inhuman and the overwhelming lust to be
responsible for this disgusting Luthor child's last breath; watching with
that breath the Luthor future and fortune fade to nothingness...
It would all carry him through the physicality of the task. If there was one single thing he could stay warm for, this was it.
+_+_+_+_+
"Okay,"
Lana whispered. She was peeking through a sliver in the opened closet
door. "I think… I think it's safe, Whitney."
She started to open the door but Whitney's hands pulled her backwards,
tightening around her waist.
"I love you," he whispered and she could feel his heart pounding against
her shoulder blades. "So much, Lahny."
"Oh, Whitney." She turned in his arms and smiled back up at him.
"I love you, too. Always."
He bent down to kiss her, passion and sweetness all coming through.
Just as she moaned against his lips, he pulled away. "Lana, I want…"
Anything.
Anything at all, love.
"Yes?"
He ran his fingertips through her hair, eyes transfixed on their downward
progression. "I want to ask you something."
"Anything," she said, echoing her thoughts.
"In a few years… After high school…"
She breathed in deeply.
He's going to ask me where I want to be. Or if I still see myself
with him. I do and I know he loves me, but…
She put her finger to his lips. But what if we have different
plans? Different ideal futures? What if there are things we
are not willing to give up for the love of one another? What if we
cannot compromise?
"Not now, Whitney," she begged quietly, not wanting to promise something
during her emotional state that she could not keep with in the future.
"Please, whatever it is, let it wait until we're under better circumstances."
He nodded, grabbed her around her waist and pulled them together, almost
harshly. She felt him sigh into her hair, warm and shaky, both relief
and disappointment washing off him. "You're right. I just-"
He cut himself off by pulling back and away, reaching behind her.
He grabbed the closet knob and gave her a weak smile. "Protectors
first, kay?"
She nodded,
knowing the smile was one of disappointment but also seeing self-contempt
within and not really understanding why. Did he realize this was
a bad time to ask something so deep and plan-altering? Or did he
think that she didn't love him enough to want the future?
She moved behind him, willing to follow behind and allow him some time
for contemplation, needing that same time for herself as well.
Whitney gave her a small peck on the cheek and turned the knob, opening
the door and starting out.
The silver beam from a bright flashlight hit him immediately, blinding
him. He winced and covered his eyes. "Hey, Mr. Luthor."
Lana's heart jumped into her throat.
Shit.
"We're really sorry about not staying put. We were just looking for
a flashlight and-"
"Flashlight. Right."
Lana's heart stopped and the blood rushing through her veins froze.
That wasn't Lex's voice.
"I'm sure you were, Whitney."
It
was Shawn's.
"Shit," Whitney spat and the next thing Lana knew she was being shoved
back into the closet. She fell to the ground and her ankle- which
had not been bothering her at all up to this point- twisted around painfully.
She cried out and grasped her foot.
Whitney looked down at her, regretful, afraid and brave at the same time.
"Don't come out!"
"Like hell," she shouted but he closed the door. "Whitney!
Damn it!"
As she struggled to get up she heard Shawn laugh followed by a slight struggle.
Whitney cried out and the noise someone hitting the floor carried back
to her.
"Whitney!"
Just as her hand reached out to the knob the metal condensed then froze
over.
"Oh, God."
The door opened and she looked up to see red eyes and a blue face staring
back at her. A hand slipped in and grazed her arm before she pulled
back.
"NO!" Whitney shouted, a little breathless from behind the door.
"I'll be with you, Princess," Shawn whispered, winking one crimson-veined
eye in her direction. "Just give me a moment."
She listened as Whitney rushed Shawn, saw Shawn turn to look at him, then
heard Whitney fall to the ground and moan in pain.
"That's what happens, Witty," he began, amused. "-when you run into
someone's fist. And thanks, by the way, for storing your girlfriend
for me. It'll be much easier if I don't have to track her down.
Not as much fun mind you," Lana cringed when she heard Shawn's foot land
a kick into some random part of her lover. "-but I've got plans that
require a nice reserve of heat."
Lana grabbed the knob and yanked on the door. It didn't budge, but
the icy cold of the metal grew until her hand was completely stuck.
"Damn it!" She struggled to free her hand and Shawn chuckled.
"Like that, gorgeous?" His free hand skimmed her cheek and she shivered,
the pit of her stomach becoming hard and hot from hate and fear.
He took his hand back to blow her a kiss. "Be with you, sweetheart.
Just gotta take care of my teammate here."
He shut the door, then pushed on it hard. After the briefest hesitation,
the doorframe cracked and the wooden door jammed into the crevice.
"NO!!" she shouted, trying to pull her hand back. It was stuck, the
flesh wholly adhered to the metal. The door wasn't budging either.
"WHITNEY!!!" She tried to breathe, finding it harder with the mental
images unrelentingly tormenting her mind and heart. "SHAWN!" she
half-sobbed, half-screamed. "TAKE ME INSTEAD! PLEASE!!"
"Oh, I intend to take you," Shawn said smoothly.
She banged her head up against the door angry, helpless and alone. She
realized that the cold she was feeling all over, the breathlessness…
It wasn't from the fear.
Shawn was using the doorknob as a conductor for her heat.
"HELP US!!!!" She screamed, but her throat was going raw and dry,
her head dizzy and her breath was dissipating at an alarming rate.
+_+_+_+_+
He'd
know that feeling anywhere.
As soon as he had called for Lana and Whitney, Lex had gotten goosebumps
and a sudden eerie sensation that he attributed to someone's eyes on him.
Instantly, he understood what the goosebumps were for.
Clark...
He
knew the thrill of his body when Clark's eyes passed over him better than
he knew the feeling of hot water from a shower, warm air from a fire, or
the burning of his scalp from the blazing sun. The familiarity of
Clark's gaze was hotter and brighter than all the Universe's stars put
together in one tiny jar, and yet it sent shivers down his spine and the
aforementioned goosebumps in their wake. How many times had he trembled
with internal heat and turned to find Clark's eyes on him? It didn't
matter where they were; his mansion, Clark's loft, out about town, or just
some function. Those eyes were the eyes of a predator and though
he knew for a fact he wasn't the prey- as willing a victim as he would
be given the chance- sometimes he just got chills.
Now heading back the way he came, he didn't know why he had felt surprised
at the realization that the youngest Kent was somewhere in his father's
mansion- Lex didn't doubt for even a milli-instant that he was. It
was as if he had a Clark beacon attached to his adrenaline. It seemed
that lately, whenever he felt in danger: BAM! Farmboy
to the rescue with fast and furious precision. Add to the fact that
his parent's and his crush-
Where
are you, Lana?
-were
also on the grounds and Clark's spider-senses must have been driving him
up the wall.
Once Lex felt Clark's eyes on him he had stilled for almost a full minute,
expecting Clark's appearance from down the hall or coming from one of the
rooms. It took him a moment to realize he was expecting it because
he'd never felt Clark's eyes on him so strongly without the boy actually
being there. Every now and then he'd be sitting in the Beanery waiting
to 'run into' Clark, feel the eyes on him and then see Clark entering.
He'd occasionally feel those eyes on his back while walking about in town,
then hear feet padding quickly as Clark ran to catch up with him.
As
if I were important enough in his life for him to run to.
His sense, however, had never been wrong when it came to Clark's presence,
and he had no reason to doubt it now.
So,
Clark's here, he thought, surprised at just how much that thought put
him at peace. His genuine reaction to the farmboy's presence was
that everything was going to be alright.
How
strange.
Lex had decided that he had been most definitely been heading in the wrong
direction
to find Lana and Whitney, so, with all sense registering, he turned back
and headed the way he had just come. The odd feeling that there was
someone in his new direction grew with every step he took and soon he was
running.
Entering a darkened hallway, he recognized his father's War Room and the
guest gym to his left. He felt more elated and figured that the only
reason this could be was that he was close. Close to someone somewhere.
Please
let it be Lana and Whitney.
As
much as seeing Clark would relieve him, he needed to find the ex-cheerleader
and the quarterback. Clark could take care of himself. Lex
wasn't sure the other two teens were that keen in the area of self-preservation.
He opened the door to the guest gym, starlight streaming in from the windows
to his left making the path to the door on the other side of the room clearer,
he started forward.
"NO!!"
Lex froze to the spot, his entire body becoming rigid and his pulse suddenly
jumping, heart pounding hard within his ribcage. The scream was coming
from where he had been only minutes earlier.
Lana!
Oh, god!
"WHITNEY!!!"
Both of them!
He spun around, ran out the gym and started back the way he came at top
speed.
"SHAWN!"
Lana's
voice was on fire with frustration and fear, pain and anger and Lex panicked.
Christ! Oh, God! Oh, shit!
"TAKE
ME INSTEAD! PLEASE!!"
What
have I done?
What have I done?
I should
have never left them alone!
His stomach churned at the rawness in the young girl's voice, the saddeningly
honest self-sacrifice she had just offered. She loved Whitney, would
give her life for his, and was, for some reason, unable to fight.
Lex knew Lana Lang was a fighter, not a screamer, so what was keeping her
from trying to protect Whitney? What the hell was going on?
What was Shawn doing to her boyfriend?
"HELP US!!!"
I'm
coming!! he thought desperately as he tore open a heavy ebony door,
slamming it into the wall as he ran through. He wanted so desperately to
call out, to scream at the top of his lungs that he was on his way to just
please hold on until he got there, to just please keep fighting if they
could, if she could, and don't give up. He wanted to scream
to Lana to let her know she wasn't alone, that these were not her
last moments but it would give the killer teen a heads up to the oncoming
attack, turning Lex's offense to a counterstrike defense.
Please,
he prayed to anyone and anything willing to listen. I'll do anything…
Just don't let them die.
+_+_+_+_+
"NO!!"
Martha and Jonathon jumped and looked up at each other.
"Lana-"
"Oh, G-God-"
"CLARK!" they yelled in unison.
"WHITNEY!!!"
Martha's stomach retched and she clutched Clark to her chest and began
rocking him. "Please, baby, wake up," she started loudly. "Oh,
baby. Clark, baby, Lana needs you, Whitney needs you and no
one else can help. Please, baby, please…"
"SHAWN!"
"Jesus!"
"TAKE
ME INSTEAD! PLEASE!!"
Jonathon grabbed hold of Clark, pulling him from his mother's grasp and
started shaking him just as Martha's upset stomach began to rumble and
quiver. She crawled a few feet away from her boys and began to dry
heave, tears of fear and sorrow welling up behind her eyes and dropping
to the thick carpeting below.
Oh,
God. Lana. Lana. Whitney. Lana. Lex.
Lana.
Lana. Just offered her life to spare Whitney's.
Oh, Lana.
Lex, where the hell are you? How did the kids get out of your sight?
Or are you dead, too?
Lana...
Clark, baby...
Please...
"KUH-CLARK!" Jonathon shouted. "W-WAKE UP!"
"HELP
US!!!"
Martha's tears began to fall faster. She heard the sound of her husband
slapping Clark, desperate to awake their fallen child, their downed champion,
and all she wanted to do was pass out. Pass out or wake up.
Wake
up. Yes, this must be a nightmare.
She knew it wasn't, though and she shut her eyes, listening.
The silence reigned; no more screams, no more Lana. She threw up.
+_+_+_+_+
darkness all around…
darkness and a throbbing sensation…
it hurts so much…
it hurts above, but…
but within, too…
it feels like it's a part of me…
at the same time it surrounds the darkness…
not quite reaching me…
it seems to be throbbing, pulsing…
both me and…
and the darkness…
pain…
but not physical…
then again, it is…
it must be…
what's going on…
i hear…
screaming…
my mother…
my…
my father…
but not…
oh, god, lex…
what do you think you're doing…
nothing…
nothing…
it's what i'm doing…
what is that…
screams…
fuck me, no, no, no…
lana…
whitney…
it's shawn…
ican'tmove, ican'tmove, ican'tmove…
but i hear her screams…
please…
somebody…
help them…
help them…
save them…
lex…
i can't move…
i am awake, mom…
i just can't move…
i'm here dad, i just can't-…
…
…
did he just…
hit me…
___brightness___
what
the hell…
To be continued... [CHAPTER FIVE: Almost]