11. Trust Fund
LEX
Where we go next is the Kent farm. Down to the storm-cellar. Stare at the little ship.
Put my hand out, touch the thing that gives me the answers.
A flash-light, a shout, and I'm facing down Jonathan Kent. He has a shotgun to my chest, I have my gun to his face. Something like a sledgehammer up under my elbow, and Clark pulling the muzzle of the shotgun round, deafening blast. Martha and Chloe screaming. Clark standing there, smouldering shirt over a bare chest, his face blank terror. I didn't fire, I held my fire, fuckitall, the man just tried to kill me.
Sitting in the kitchen, middle of the night and Martha's hands are shaking too much to deal with the kettle, where she's trying to give some normality to this surreal experience. Clark takes her by the shoulders, sits her down. Jonathan and I are still engaged in a staring match. This man is stubborn. So am I.
"You have the -government- in town, Mr Kent. They tracked something down in that meteor storm ,and if you think I'm persistent..."
"You break into my property in the middle of the night, Luthor, and if you think I want anything to do with you or your family..."
And I'm angry with these people. With this man who has stared at me with nothing but hatred and contempt since he met me. The man who tried to kill me.
"Please don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Kent. United Metropolis Charities traces back to Luthercorp. And my father."
"Your father had nothing to do with it."
JONATHAN
I remember a very sick woman. Pared down to the essentials of flesh and bone. Blue-grey eyes the only living thing. And a smile that could charm the devil.
"Jonathan, this is a surprise. How is Martha?"
"She's well."
I want to ask 'how are you?', but the words stick in my throat. I kiss the frail cheek, sit gingerly in the offered chair. Feel large and clumsy and out of place here, the same way I always feel in rich people's houses. Lillian Luthor.
Lillian and Martha were at school together, drifted apart after Martha went to Met.U. She and Martha still write to each other, though the replies get shorter, the handwriting more shaky. Still, the indomitable will is still there. She needs it, being married to that bastard.
I would never ask for his help. But I will ask for hers.
Martha never knew what I had done. I just came home from Metropolis, told her it was settled. She thought I'd gone to some backstreet lawyer, wouldn't have touched -his- money. Lilllian set up the charity. Took care of the documents, bought off who she needed to. She wouldn't have bent the law for anyone else but Martha. Knew how much she -wanted- a child. Loved her own child fiercely.
I tell them this. And her son looks at me with those same eyes.
LEX
All this time. All this time, these people knew my mother. My mother helped them adopt Clark. Chloe takes my hand. My hold on reality is slipping. My best friend is an alien. My mother was Martha Kent's friend. MIB's in the Torch office. The only solid real thing is the warm hand holding mine.
CHLOE
Oh my God. My life has turned into an X-file. Lex looks like he's turned to stone. How many more surprises can this night hold?
LEX
Martha holds her son. Puts one hand out to Jonathan's shoulder. Forgives him with a glance. Chloe holds my hand, the only life-line in this madness.
Someone needs to break the silence.
"We need to move the ship. Put it in the vault at the mansion."
"Will it be safe?"
"The only thing I've found that can get through my new security is Clark." I look Jonathan Kent right in the eyes. "You trusted my mother, Mr Kent. I might be Lionel Luthor's son, but I'm also hers."
I see the moment when he accepts it. These people, this family, have carried the weight of this secret for so many years.
The government might be able to march onto someone's farm to search it. A lot more difficult to march into my house.
As I said before, I will do anything to protect my friends.
Getting the ship onto the truck, strange little procession back to the mansion, unloading the thing next to the battered remnants of the Porsche. The two vehicles, in the stark spotlight, question and answer.
Now, I have to deal with my father.
"No." Clark. "No guns. I don't need one." He puts his hand over the barrel, and it gives like foil.
I want to leave Chloe with the Kents. She's not having it. We don't have time to debate it. Clark gets into the car too, and I -know- I can't throw him out of it. Actually, I'm glad he's there. I don't need a gun either, now.
LEX
Where we go next is the Kent farm. Down to the storm-cellar. Stare at the little ship.
Put my hand out, touch the thing that gives me the answers.
A flash-light, a shout, and I'm facing down Jonathan Kent. He has a shotgun to my chest, I have my gun to his face. Something like a sledgehammer up under my elbow, and Clark pulling the muzzle of the shotgun round, deafening blast. Martha and Chloe screaming. Clark standing there, smouldering shirt over a bare chest, his face blank terror. I didn't fire, I held my fire, fuckitall, the man just tried to kill me.
Sitting in the kitchen, middle of the night and Martha's hands are shaking too much to deal with the kettle, where she's trying to give some normality to this surreal experience. Clark takes her by the shoulders, sits her down. Jonathan and I are still engaged in a staring match. This man is stubborn. So am I.
"You have the -government- in town, Mr Kent. They tracked something down in that meteor storm ,and if you think I'm persistent..."
"You break into my property in the middle of the night, Luthor, and if you think I want anything to do with you or your family..."
And I'm angry with these people. With this man who has stared at me with nothing but hatred and contempt since he met me. The man who tried to kill me.
"Please don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Kent. United Metropolis Charities traces back to Luthercorp. And my father."
"Your father had nothing to do with it."
JONATHAN
I remember a very sick woman. Pared down to the essentials of flesh and bone. Blue-grey eyes the only living thing. And a smile that could charm the devil.
"Jonathan, this is a surprise. How is Martha?"
"She's well."
I want to ask 'how are you?', but the words stick in my throat. I kiss the frail cheek, sit gingerly in the offered chair. Feel large and clumsy and out of place here, the same way I always feel in rich people's houses. Lillian Luthor.
Lillian and Martha were at school together, drifted apart after Martha went to Met.U. She and Martha still write to each other, though the replies get shorter, the handwriting more shaky. Still, the indomitable will is still there. She needs it, being married to that bastard.
I would never ask for his help. But I will ask for hers.
Martha never knew what I had done. I just came home from Metropolis, told her it was settled. She thought I'd gone to some backstreet lawyer, wouldn't have touched -his- money. Lilllian set up the charity. Took care of the documents, bought off who she needed to. She wouldn't have bent the law for anyone else but Martha. Knew how much she -wanted- a child. Loved her own child fiercely.
I tell them this. And her son looks at me with those same eyes.
LEX
All this time. All this time, these people knew my mother. My mother helped them adopt Clark. Chloe takes my hand. My hold on reality is slipping. My best friend is an alien. My mother was Martha Kent's friend. MIB's in the Torch office. The only solid real thing is the warm hand holding mine.
CHLOE
Oh my God. My life has turned into an X-file. Lex looks like he's turned to stone. How many more surprises can this night hold?
LEX
Martha holds her son. Puts one hand out to Jonathan's shoulder. Forgives him with a glance. Chloe holds my hand, the only life-line in this madness.
Someone needs to break the silence.
"We need to move the ship. Put it in the vault at the mansion."
"Will it be safe?"
"The only thing I've found that can get through my new security is Clark." I look Jonathan Kent right in the eyes. "You trusted my mother, Mr Kent. I might be Lionel Luthor's son, but I'm also hers."
I see the moment when he accepts it. These people, this family, have carried the weight of this secret for so many years.
The government might be able to march onto someone's farm to search it. A lot more difficult to march into my house.
As I said before, I will do anything to protect my friends.
Getting the ship onto the truck, strange little procession back to the mansion, unloading the thing next to the battered remnants of the Porsche. The two vehicles, in the stark spotlight, question and answer.
Now, I have to deal with my father.
"No." Clark. "No guns. I don't need one." He puts his hand over the barrel, and it gives like foil.
I want to leave Chloe with the Kents. She's not having it. We don't have time to debate it. Clark gets into the car too, and I -know- I can't throw him out of it. Actually, I'm glad he's there. I don't need a gun either, now.