Lionel pulled to the side of the road to think. He'd known, naturally, that Clark and Lex were still at large. Fortunately, they hadn't made any contact with him, direct or indirect. He never thought that his careful pitting of the two boys against one another would have quite this benefit; he was certain that they were fighting one another or separated. He'd only thought at the time that it would breed competition, make them both stronger. Now it appeared that it might have well saved his own skin or empire. One was much the same as the other, of course.
Clark, it appeared, was still haunting Smallville, and specifically, that decidedly attractive girl. Again, just as well that he was so easily distracted. But then, Clark on the loose was the definition of a variable. A variable that could cause great trouble.
His subsequent experiments had uncovered an interesting fact, quite inadvertantly. The green pieces in the debris from Clark's injuries created utter chaos in the cell structures. It turned out that the pieces were parts of the meteors that had accompanied Clark. Presumably, then, the meteors would be the only defense against his invulnerable son.
He wished, not for the first time, that he had been gentler with Clark while investigating him. If only for the sake of consistency--he'd constantly told both his boys not to let emotions rule their thoughts or actions, but he himself had been in a state of panic at the thought that the opportunity to learn from Clark might be lost. But he was also troubled by the memory of Clark's gasps and whimpers, the expression on his face, the memory, even, of his own hands as they guided the scalpel into the boy's finally penetrable skin and flesh. Of course, the blood and skin had given him this near-immortality; he just wished he could enjoy it without the occasional troubled thought.
He also knew that one lesson he'd taught Clark had stayed well--when injured, avenge yourself implacably, if you are ever in a position to do so.
At least Clark didn't have Lex on his side. Clark alone had the equivalent of his power, but not his brains. Lex had the brains but not the power. That would be an alarming combination. Together, they could equal, and quite likely overpower him.
He wondered if that was something he'd realized long ago, why he had fostered the boys' rivalry, why he kept throwing the apple of discord to them. Philip of Macedonia would have approved.
And counseled action.
A/N:
I'd love any feedback on the characterization here--does it work?
Clark, it appeared, was still haunting Smallville, and specifically, that decidedly attractive girl. Again, just as well that he was so easily distracted. But then, Clark on the loose was the definition of a variable. A variable that could cause great trouble.
His subsequent experiments had uncovered an interesting fact, quite inadvertantly. The green pieces in the debris from Clark's injuries created utter chaos in the cell structures. It turned out that the pieces were parts of the meteors that had accompanied Clark. Presumably, then, the meteors would be the only defense against his invulnerable son.
He wished, not for the first time, that he had been gentler with Clark while investigating him. If only for the sake of consistency--he'd constantly told both his boys not to let emotions rule their thoughts or actions, but he himself had been in a state of panic at the thought that the opportunity to learn from Clark might be lost. But he was also troubled by the memory of Clark's gasps and whimpers, the expression on his face, the memory, even, of his own hands as they guided the scalpel into the boy's finally penetrable skin and flesh. Of course, the blood and skin had given him this near-immortality; he just wished he could enjoy it without the occasional troubled thought.
He also knew that one lesson he'd taught Clark had stayed well--when injured, avenge yourself implacably, if you are ever in a position to do so.
At least Clark didn't have Lex on his side. Clark alone had the equivalent of his power, but not his brains. Lex had the brains but not the power. That would be an alarming combination. Together, they could equal, and quite likely overpower him.
He wondered if that was something he'd realized long ago, why he had fostered the boys' rivalry, why he kept throwing the apple of discord to them. Philip of Macedonia would have approved.
And counseled action.
A/N:
I'd love any feedback on the characterization here--does it work?