7. Hostage to Fortune
MARTHA
We have to take my car. The windshield is still crazed from when I hit poor little Ryan, but without that cheque from Lex, we don't have the money for that -and- the tractor -and- the truck. Jonathan doesn't want me to be there, but we have to get to the mansion. The way Lex took off confirmed every suspicion we've had about the truck. I have no idea how he intends to get to the mansion, haven't time to think about it, turning my bag upside down for the keys, wrenching open the doors, and we're going to be driving across the path of the storm.
Jonathan fights the car every mile of the road, using words he'd belt Clark for. He's been on a knife-edge since we found Lex in the storm-cellar. Found out he knew. Jon and Lionel have a history, something involving Nell Potter, and it blinds Jon to any good in the Luthor clan.
Everything is wide open when we get there, which is good, because I don't think that the car would have coped with the gates. Jonathan has his bloody shotgun again, is running for the door.
In the vault, and instead of the Luthors, a narrow-faced man in a cheap suit, who isn't expecting an angry mid-western farmer to throw him up against the wall.
But the ship...Clark's ship...is -glowing-. Rivers of light, gliding across its surface, rising in the air.
He's babbling something about keys, aliens, runs for the stairs, with Jon after him.
I'm staring into the light...
LEX
The enigma piece has gone. That little bastard is somewhere round here with a time bomb in his pocket. Threatening to go to my father if I don't take him seriously, and I just hope he hasn't.
The power has gone out, taking whatever security systems I still had with it. The emergency generator hasn't come on, which suggests human agency. This house is now completely open to whoever wants to brave the elements to get here.
It's a dark and stormy night. I can feel hysteria building. The library doors fly open, in true melodramatic style.
"Using your mother's stock."
Yes, Dad, because you can't touch that. And mentioning that means you haven't found out about the other stuff. But I don't have time for this big dramatic scene now - I have another one to head off.
He seems genuinely surprised that I want to be free of him.
Strobing light, glass and a flashback to the townhouse. Noise and confusion. A moments darkness.
This place was not built to withstand the weather patterns of the Midwest.
I'm under something, and there's blood in my eyes.
He's calling my name. A pillar across him, and the only reason he's not dead is the fact that the wheelchair has buckled over him. But he can't pull himself free, and there's a stake pointed at his heart. How fucking appropriate.
Fear in his eyes, because I have control. And this time, there isn't anybody else here to talk me round.
I made my decision in that hospital room. But that was before he pulled this latest threat out of the bag. What will it take to be free of him?
MARTHA
We have to take my car. The windshield is still crazed from when I hit poor little Ryan, but without that cheque from Lex, we don't have the money for that -and- the tractor -and- the truck. Jonathan doesn't want me to be there, but we have to get to the mansion. The way Lex took off confirmed every suspicion we've had about the truck. I have no idea how he intends to get to the mansion, haven't time to think about it, turning my bag upside down for the keys, wrenching open the doors, and we're going to be driving across the path of the storm.
Jonathan fights the car every mile of the road, using words he'd belt Clark for. He's been on a knife-edge since we found Lex in the storm-cellar. Found out he knew. Jon and Lionel have a history, something involving Nell Potter, and it blinds Jon to any good in the Luthor clan.
Everything is wide open when we get there, which is good, because I don't think that the car would have coped with the gates. Jonathan has his bloody shotgun again, is running for the door.
In the vault, and instead of the Luthors, a narrow-faced man in a cheap suit, who isn't expecting an angry mid-western farmer to throw him up against the wall.
But the ship...Clark's ship...is -glowing-. Rivers of light, gliding across its surface, rising in the air.
He's babbling something about keys, aliens, runs for the stairs, with Jon after him.
I'm staring into the light...
LEX
The enigma piece has gone. That little bastard is somewhere round here with a time bomb in his pocket. Threatening to go to my father if I don't take him seriously, and I just hope he hasn't.
The power has gone out, taking whatever security systems I still had with it. The emergency generator hasn't come on, which suggests human agency. This house is now completely open to whoever wants to brave the elements to get here.
It's a dark and stormy night. I can feel hysteria building. The library doors fly open, in true melodramatic style.
"Using your mother's stock."
Yes, Dad, because you can't touch that. And mentioning that means you haven't found out about the other stuff. But I don't have time for this big dramatic scene now - I have another one to head off.
He seems genuinely surprised that I want to be free of him.
Strobing light, glass and a flashback to the townhouse. Noise and confusion. A moments darkness.
This place was not built to withstand the weather patterns of the Midwest.
I'm under something, and there's blood in my eyes.
He's calling my name. A pillar across him, and the only reason he's not dead is the fact that the wheelchair has buckled over him. But he can't pull himself free, and there's a stake pointed at his heart. How fucking appropriate.
Fear in his eyes, because I have control. And this time, there isn't anybody else here to talk me round.
I made my decision in that hospital room. But that was before he pulled this latest threat out of the bag. What will it take to be free of him?