Author: Mitch
Title: Operation: Humbug
Series: Part 3
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Spoilers: None.
Feedback: Thank you everyone who has reviewed. You are my Christmas angels!
Author's Note: You may notice the presence of Sam Loomis in this chapter. You may also notice that this character is *totally not mine!* Sam is a creation of Nymph Du Pave. I just fell in love with idea of Lex having that one servant he can confide in.
**********
December 24, 2002
6:00PM
Nothing.
No aches, no exhaustion, not even a mild twinge of unhappiness. Everything was still.
Good, Lex thought. Now I can work in peace.
Rather difficult, though, since he had drunk himself into numbness. But it was worth it. The aches and pains he could handle. The exhaustion had become a permanent fixture. But the longing, the yearning, the furious pangs in his chest; these were things he could do without. Forever.
He reached for his coffee a la Peppermint Schnapps, and took another long swig. He nearly spit it out when the taste hit his tongue, knowing immediately who to blame. "Sam?!"
Sam Loomis, Lex's most trusted servant, walked cautiously into the study. "What is it, sir?"
"It's hot chocolate is what it is," Lex slurred. "I don't recall asking for hot chocolate!"
"I understand. But you've had quite a lot to drink, and I thought it might be prudent if--"
"I decide what's prudent in this household!" Lex slammed his fist on the desk and nodded his head, very satisfied with his disciplining technique. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He took another drink of the hot chocolate, already forgetting that it wasn't alcohol, and this time really did spit it out onto the floor. He looked at the mess and started to laugh, but the laughs soon turned to quiet sobs.
Sam came closer. "Sir, maybe you should put your work aside for the night. I can build a fire and get you another cup of cocoa." Good old Sam.
"I don't want, cocoa," Lex whispered, sitting up straight. "I bet he's drinking cocoa right now. He and his family."
"Master Kent, sir?" Lex nodded.
As Sam was about to reply, there was a knock at the door.
"I'm not here," Lex stated quickly.
"Of course." Sam went to answer it, closing the study doors behind him as Lex got up to search for the Schnapps that had obviously been hidden from him. Before he got far, the double doors of the study flew open and in stormed Jonathan Kent with Sam following closely behind.
"I told him to go, sir, he insisted that he see you."
"We need to talk, Lex." Jonathan's voice took on the authoritative/disgusted tone that Lex suspected was used only for him.
"It's okay, Sam. I'll talk to him." Lex didn't have the energy to get rid of him anyway. Sam left obediently and closed the doors once more. Lex went back to his search, pulling cushions off the leather couch. "What can I do for you, Mr. Kent?"
Jonathan shifted his weight, deciding how to begin. He decided to just blurt it out, shock Lex into listening. "Lex, I don't like you."
Lex snorted, not looking up from his task. "Yeah, and Christmas comes but once a year. Tell me something I don't know."
"And I don't like your relationship with my son," Jonathan continued, raising his voice a notch. "In fact, that's why I'm here."
"Well, you don't have anything to worry about there," Lex snapped, moving on from the couch to the bookshelf where he started dropping various volumes onto the floor. "Now why don't you go back to your home cooked meal. Tell the wife and kid I said hello. Or better yet, don't."
"Don't you think I'd like to, Lex? Don't you think I would rather be anywhere on Christmas Eve than standing in the middle of a gaudy Luthor estate trying to talk to an obstinate drunk?"
Lex jerked his head in Jonathan's direction. "Then why the hell are you still here?!"
"Because when my son's not happy, I'm not happy! Now I don't know what you did, but if you know what's good for you, you'll march your skinny little butt over to that farm and undo it!"
Lex laughed at Jonathan's sternness. "Figures Clark wouldn't tell you. He's become quite the little secret keeper, hasn't he?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means maybe some of the bad things that happen to Clark Kent are his own fault. He may be gifted, but he's not perfect."
"So that's what this is about. You still haven't given up on your idea that Clark is different somehow. Have you been harassing him about it? Is that why he's so upset?"
"Clark is upset because he got caught in a lie, Mr. Kent. Simple as that."
"My boy is not a liar, damn it!" In their anger, neither of them heard the doorbell ring.
"He is a liar and so are you! Your whole family is full of lies. You call the Luthors evil and corrupt but look at yourself! At least we have the balls to fuck people over to their faces!"
Jonathan took two long strides toward Lex, his face as red as a beet, and raised his arm to deck him in the jaw. But before he made impact, they both heard a cracking thud outside of the study, followed by what sounded like Sam groaning and falling to the floor.
Alarmed, they both ran from the study to see what had happened. Sam was on the ground unconscious next to the open front door, and nobody else was there. Jonathan knelt down to check his pulse and Lex started back to the study.
"I'll call the police!"
Just as he got to the double doors, a figure stepped out from behind a plant and grabbed Lex around the neck, holding a knife to his throat, facing Lex back toward Jonathan and Sam. His choked gasp was enough to get Jonathan's immediate attention.
"Lex!" Jonathan ran to Lex's aid, but as soon as he got within striking distance, the man holding Lex kicked Jonathan violently in the chest, sending him flying backwards where he landed next to Sam, losing consciousness as his head hit the floor.
Lex bent his head forward, trying to put as much distance between his neck and the blade as possible. "Who are you?" he rasped.
"Not that you would even know me by my name, but what the hell?" He whipped Lex around and Lex found himself face to face with a furious, sweating, twitchy-eyed... high school student. "Brandon Emmett, at your service." He raised the knife above his head, and brought its black grip down onto Lex's skull. Lex felt a shooting pain and then nothing but blackness.
**********
When Lex woke up, the pain in his head was less shooting and more constant, unbearable throbbing. Of course, he couldn't be sure whether it was from the blow to his head or just a really bitchin' hangover. Either way, his head wasn't the only part of his body that was hurting. He was burning all around his chest and his wrists.
He looked down to find himself tied tightly to a chair by his chest and legs with his wrists tied behind his back. He tried to struggle and gasped as the ropes dug further into his skin.
"'Bout time you joined the party, Lex." He turned to his right and saw Jonathan tied to the chair next to him, conscious and breathing heavily, but not struggling. Then he looked forward and saw Brandon Emmett, sitting on the edge of the desk, playing with his knife. Lex squinted through the post-blow blurriness and tried to see if he recognized Brandon. He didn't. But despite the boy's sweat-soaked sandy blond hair, pale complexion, and tired eyes, Lex thought he recognized what was once a relatively attractive young man.
Though not much for fashion sense.
Brandon had on a dirty pair of jeans and a torn old leather jacket. Not surprising, though, as he had been evading the law for over two weeks.
"Take a good look, Lex," he taunted. "You won't recognize me."
"No, but I do," Jonathan cut in. "Brandon, I know who you are and what's happened. I'm sorry about your father. He was a good man, but--"
"Shut your mouth, old man!" Brandon swept forward in a blur and held the tip of the knife to Jonathan's throat. "This is between me and Luthor! You just happened to be in the way."
He stepped back a few paces, calming down. "Although your presence isn't entirely without its advantages. It actually sweetens the deal quite a bit. It doubles the ransom."
"Look, you little shit," Lex blurted. "Would you quit wasting my time and get to the point? Just tell me who you are and why you're pissed off at me, and then I'll tell you how many different ways you can shove it up your ass."
"Lex..." Jonathan warned, but it was too late.
With the same blurry speed, Brandon zoomed forward and backhanded Lex across the face, bringing tears of pain to his eyes. Lex spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor and looked back at Brandon, smiling drowsily.
"That's more like it," he said. "Now what do you want?"
Brandon took a step back, seeming to be impressed by Lex's resilience. "I want my father. And thanks to you, I'll never see him again."
"If I recall, your father died of cancer, Brandon."
"Well, well," Brandon chirped. "The spoiled little millionaire isn't completely oblivious after all. He did die of cancer and your filthy experimental drugs sped up the process!"
Brandon made as if to hit Lex again, causing Lex to flinch. But Brandon only pulled away, laughing.
"What drugs?" Jonathan asked calmly.
Brandon turned his eyes to the stained glass window behind him, taking on the tone of an expert storyteller. "As you're both aware, the Luthor family has ownership of Catmus Labs. They recently organized a medical research clinic, specializing in drugs developed from the meteor rocks."
Jonathan gave Lex a look of murder, but stayed quiet. Brandon went on.
"They came up with a new drug that cured cancer in laboratory rats. Actually, it focused more on the bodily systems than the cancer, giving their bodies the strength to fight it off."
"And that's the drug they tried on your father."
"Very good, Lex! But what those dimwitted healthcare professionals failed to notice, was that the rats had only had cancer for a short time. My father had been in treatment for over a year! When administered, the drug didn't empower his body, it empowered the cancer!"
Lex was more annoyed by the minute. "Brandon, I feel for you. I really do. My mother died when I was very young and it crushed me. But I didn't tie people to chairs and hold them at knifepoint. Wanna know what I did?" Brandon leaned in, listening. "I GOT OVER IT!!!"
Brandon stepped forward holding the knife up, ready to stab Lex.
"Stop it!" Jonathan yelled, startling them both. "Just stop it! Brandon, we understand your anger, now tell us what you want."
The young man's hand clenched around the grip of the knife several times as a drop of sweat fell from his chin to the floor. He finally decided to put his arm back to his side and talk. "Money. When my dad died, he left my mother and me with nothing. I know Daddy Luthor is loaded, so I figured I'd kidnap baldy here and collect the reward." Lex snorted, but Brandon didn't seem to notice. "So I took what was left of the drug they used on my father, thinking I'd need the extra strength to go up against the guards around the place. Little did I know the only protection you'd have would be that flimsy old man you call a servant." He gestured toward the front door.
"I swear to God, Brandon, if anything happens to Loomis--"
"Lex, don't." Jonathan warned.
"He's right, Lex. This knife seems to have a mind of its own. I wouldn't want to hurt you unnecessarily." He gave them both a last, contemptuous look and started out the door.
"Where are you going?" Jonathan asked.
"What, you think I'm dumb enough to call Lionel Luthor from one of his own properties? I'm going to find a payphone." His head twitched, making him look even more crazed, and he walked out of the mansion, slamming the door behind him.
Lex and Jonathan shared a long silence, not very uncomfortable, but filled to the brim with unfocused rage. Lex was the first to speak.
"I can't believe I'm spending Christmas with you!"
Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I have no intention of spending Christmas here, Lex. We're getting out."
"Good luck. You'll bleed to death just trying to get out of these ropes."
"Well, if you'd put a sock in it, I could think of something!"
"Take your time. The closest payphone isn't for miles and Brandon is obviously on foot. Maybe when Sam wakes up, he can spoon feed us some cocoa. Do you like yours with Schnapps?"
"Would you cut the crap, Lex? This is serious!"
"You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Kent. These days, life-threatening situations just don't bother me like they used to. Having Clark as a friend is like walking around with a human safety belt."
"You know, I should have never come here. And as soon as I get out, I'm going to tell Clark that no matter how upset he is now, he'll be better off in the long run if he ditches you."
Just as Lex was about to release a string of curses in response, the doorbell rang, startling them both into silence. They looked at each other and Jonathan whispered "Brandon?"
"He wouldn't bother with the doorbell," Lex whispered back. The doorbell rang again and this time, a voice came onto the intercom.
"Lex?"
It was Clark. Jonathan and Lex both lost their breath for a moment, immediately after which, Jonathan started screaming.
"Clark! Come in, son! We're in the den!"
"He can't hear you unless you use the intercom, Mr. Kent. The building is soundproof."
"Well, where's the intercom?!"
Lex motioned with his head to the wall where the intercom was positioned. Nearly two feet above them.
"Well, how do we let him know we're here?" Before Lex could answer, Clark spoke again.
"Okay, Lex, you don't have to come to the door. But please, just listen to me." He took a labored breath and Lex closed his eyes, willing himself not to be affected. "I'm sorry, Lex. I was stupid and I was wrong and I'm sorry." Jonathan looked at Lex questioningly. Lex merely stared ahead.
"But you have to understand what it's been like," Clark went on. "Not only have I always had the instinct to lie to protect myself, but it's been ground into me for as long as I can remember. I wanted to tell you, I-I wanted to tell you from the first day I met you, but I couldn't just forget all the warnings my parents gave me. They made it feel like the world would cave in on itself if I so much as thought about telling anyone."
This time, Lex looked at Jonathan, who lowered his eyes to the floor.
"But now I'm just making excuses, and that's not what I came here to do." Clark's voice became quiet and they both strained to hear it. "It doesn't matter how often I've lied in the past. All that matters is that I lied to you, and I will never forgive myself. Because deep down, you're the only person in this world I know I can trust completely.
"Since I was little, I've always had these voices in my head. They tell me to worry and they tell me to lie and they get so loud, I feel like my whole identity is drowning. But when I met you, they went away. For the first time in my life, I experienced peace. I figured it was because you understood, because you were dealing with your own voices. I hope I helped quiet them for you too."
"You did," Lex whispered as a tear fell down his cheek. Jonathan looked away, feeling oddly like an intruder.
"But I ruined it and I know that. You trusted me and I betrayed you." On the word "betrayed" Clark's voice cracked, and when he spoke again his voice was shaking with sobs. "I would do anything to take that back, Lex. Anything. If you never want to see me again, I'll understand, but I had to let you know. Please think about what I said."
The intercom clicked off and Jonathan watched the muscles in Lex's neck tense as he held back his tears. Then the intercom clicked on one last time, in the middle of Clark's shuddering breath.
"Lex?" He paused for almost 30 seconds. "I love you," he whispered, and the speaker switched off. Lex knew that Clark wouldn't come back again, could almost feel him moving away.
Jonathan took a deep breath, trying to put his thoughts in some kind of rational order. "He, uh, must not have seen my truck," he offered, his own voice cracking.
Lex opened his eyes and choked back a sob. Then he turned to Jonathan, his face steeling over in cold resolve as his breathing sped up. "Well, I'm not waiting for a miracle. We're getting out of here."
"What do you suggest?" Jonathan asked quickly, more than ready to throw himself into the task.
"Just give me a second. I'm not sure it'll work."
Without another word, Lex started jerking his body forward, scooting his chair toward the desk. The ropes immediately began to dig into his chest and he stifled a scream at the burning as blood started to soak through his white shirt.
"Lex, be careful!" Jonathan warned, but Lex continued on.
He finally reached the side of the desk where he stopped to catch his breath, hanging his head down. Then with the little amount of freedom he could achieve, he reached out with his bare toes.
"It should still be down here," he muttered as he strained his foot forward, his view obstructed by the papers on the desk.
"What are you looking for?" Jonathan asked impatiently.
"Ha!" Lex felt his foot touch what he was looking for. He bent his toes to pull it toward himself, grunting at the subsequent cramp taking hold of his foot, but not giving up. Finally, he got it out from under the desk where both he and Jonathan could see it.
"A picture frame?" Jonathan asked.
"It was a gift," Lex said, breathing heavily.
"Fine, but how does it help us?"
Without answering, Lex tipped his chair backwards a few inches. When he came back down, he flexed his foot, allowing his heel to crash down onto the glass of the frame, shattering it. Although he didn't make a sound, Jonathan winced as blood started to ooze from Lex's foot.
Lex then started jerking himself around, turning his chair until the picture frame was to his left. He jerked his body in that direction. It took him a few tries, but he finally got the chair to tip onto its side and he gasped as his shoulder met the floor with a thud, his arm smashed beneath the chair.
"Lex! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Lex lied through gritted teeth. Physically, he was a mess. But mentally he was just as sharp as ever, and quite pleased with himself that he had fallen with his hands right next to the broken glass. Jonathan started to catch on.
"There's a big piece just below your right hand."
Taking his cue, Lex reached out with his right hand and grabbed onto a large shard of glass. He immediately started rubbing the point against the rope binding his wrists. Jonathan continued to coach him from across the room.
"Easy, Lex. Don't cut yourself. Pull it up a little."
Lex pulled the glass up, bending his wrist uncomfortably, but feeling a thicker chunk of rope to cut. He gripped the shard tighter, trying to gain more control.
"Ah!" He growled as the edges dug into his gripping hand. But he bit down on the pain and kept going.
"You're doing great, Lex. You've almost got it." Beads of sweat began to form on Jonathan's head as he encouraged the younger man.
Lex continued to grind against the rope, feeling it start to fray under the glass. He prayed it wasn't just a figment of his imagination. At the point that both of his hands had almost completely lost their feeling, Lex felt the rope snap.
"You got it!" Jonathan yelled, shaking his own chair in excitement.
Using what strength he had left, Lex freed his hands of the rope. He pushed himself away from the floor with his right arm, wincing as the feeling came back into his left arm like a shot of white fire. "I think my arm is broken!"
"We can take care of it! Just get us out of here!"
The rope that had been holding his wrists was the same rope that was across his chest. Now that his arms were free, the rope in front was hanging loosely and all he had left to untie were his legs. He struggled with the knots, cursing as he was only able to use his right hand.
When he was just about ready to give up and pick up another shard of glass, the knots came loose. He threw the ropes away from himself frantically and fumbled his way into a standing position, where the rush of blood to his head threatened to knock him back down. Jonathan could see his dizziness.
"Lex! Focus!"
The harsh voice cleared his head and he limped to the back of Jonathan's chair, where he started to untie the older man's wrists. Once free, Jonathan was able to quickly untie his own legs.
He stood up and started on a dead run for the door, expecting Lex to follow. But Lex's imbalance took over and he stumbled to his knees. Jonathan turned around and went back to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Come on, Lex. Give me your arm." Jonathan attempted to put Lex's arm over his own shoulders to support him, but Lex resisted.
"You go. I need to stay behind for Sam."
"Lex, I am not leaving you here! What if Brandon comes back?"
Lex continued to resist and fell to the floor where he made no attempt to rise. "I'll be okay."
Jonathan hesitated, finally squatting next to him and putting his hand on the back of Lex's neck, forcing him to make eye contact. "Lex, if I let anything happen to you, Clark would... it would kill him."
Lex looked deeply into Jonathan's eyes, seeing the truth there. The same truth he had passed on to his loving son. Lex swallowed the growing lump in his throat, and nodded his head, allowing Jonathan to help him up. Once he had his arm over Jonathan's shoulders, they headed for the door.
"Wait," Lex stopped.
"What is it?"
"You go pull the car around. I have to get something."
"Lex, I don't know..."
"Really, it's okay. I'll be two seconds. I'm feeling stronger now."
Jonathan took a breath and decided to agree. He let Lex's arm go and Lex was able to stand on his own. Lex smiled weakly. "Thank you, Mr. Kent."
Jonathan smiled back, nodding. "You're a brave man, Lex." Squeezing Lex's shoulder one last time, Jonathan turned to the door and went to get the truck.
Attempting to block out the pain shooting in from all corners of his body, Lex turned back to the study and limped to the desk, feeling almost like he was skipping at his fast pace. He knelt down next to the overturned chair and grabbed the picture frame. He shook away the broken glass and saw that there were blood stains over the green paint, but he was too thankful to be free to be upset about it.
"You saved me again, Clark," he laughed, shaking his head at the gift. "And this time, you didn't even know it." He rubbed his finger over the gold writing inside the frame and stood up, grabbing his cell phone from the desk. He heard Jonathan honking the horn outside the open door and he limped out of the study like a bat with a broken wing out of Hell.
Lex stopped next to Sam to see if he had woken up, but he was still unconscious. "Don't worry, Sam. I'm calling an ambulance right now."
As he was walking to the door, he opened his phone and started dialing. But when he got to the front step, his view of Jonathan's truck was suddenly cut off as Brandon popped out in front of him, looking even more agitated and furious than before. His face had taken on a light shade of green, and rotten-looking brownish blood dripped from his nose.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?!"
Lex never was one for holding his tongue. "The hell away from you, you obnoxious inbred!"
On some level, Lex was aware of Jonathan running toward him and screaming his name. But his immediate attention was suddenly fixed on the flash of metal bolting across his line of sight, where it disappeared and was replaced by a ball of heat in his gut. It started out small, then radiated through his whole stomach and down to his groin.
He looked down and saw the handle of the knife sticking out of his shirt, the blade almost completely hidden inside of him. As several drops of warm blood landed on his bare feet, Lex's eyes rolled back into his head. Unlike the event under the pine tree, his mind blinked out so fast he didn't even have time to think a last little thought of Clark before the end.