"Children might or might not be a blessing,
but to create them and then fail them was surely damnation."
-Lois McMaster Bujold, 'Barrayar'
Earlier…Lex had come home from the Plant feeling unsure of himself, and not best pleased that all he had to look forward to was an evening alone. It was a pitiful thought, but at least when Clark and he were just friends -or at least, not admitting they were anything else- he could get away with casually dropping by to see him, wherever he was just for a few minutes. For, as surprising as it seemed now, he really did used to be content with those few minutes. Why? Because some part of him loved to just give this innocent friend some advice or say something to remind him that he alone was a part of his schoolboy's life that was more elusive, and mysterious than anything else he had going. Oh yes, he knew he was very manipulative in all those months…whether he was being so consciously or not. He just loved to turn up at the Beanery or at Clark's house, seeming all worldly-wise, not to mention looking fabulous, and just for a moment stake his claim on this boy. He's part of my life too, he felt like saying to those around them, or even silently mock them for not being able to see what he could see in this boy. I'm not going anywhere…no matter what you all want he'd thought triumphantly on more than one bitter occasion, especially when he knew there were those present who weren't too pleased about the intrusion…usually Jonathan Kent.
Then of course, he'd had to do that spot of soul-searching and had realised this sense of Clark being his was far stronger and significant than he'd let himself believe. Since he'd realised it was more than clinging on to his one and only friend, he'd become far less confident of meeting Clark around other people for fear of not being able to draw himself away…
That didn't stop him from wishing like hell that he could still drop in on Clark's life, intimidate a few of his friends with his presence and make everyone wonder if there wasn't just a little bit more to the mysterious Clark Kent. Knowing what he knew now he thought there was nothing more pitiable about Clark's life than the fact that he had to hide most of what he was. Everyone strived to be something special, and here was a guy who genuinely was, but couldn't tell the world.
For the sake of this poor kid who was forced to look for obscurity, Lex wished more than anything like turning the car around, and strolling casually into the Talon on some pretext like congratulating Lana on the Talon doing so well hosting occasions like this. Yeah that would work… Then , as Lana somewhat timidly tried to put forward another little money-makings scheme of hers, knowing full well that the entire business rested on his approval, he'd dismiss her casually and ask where he could find Clark. He'd love to see the look on her face…yes, Clark Kent, the boy you loved to string along but never gave a real chance, is best friends with the most influential man in town. Is everyone watching the tow of us talk? Is everyone wondering what's so special about him? You missed your chance Lana, and now he's mine. I get to see the real him, now that he's no longer playing the poor lovelorn guy-next-door routine for you. Maybe I'll just kiss him right there to show you what you're missing…
Lex couldn't help laughing at himself as he drove along. Maybe it was just sleep deprivation, but it seemed like this whole relationship was making him revert back to a daydreaming teenager again. Unfortunately it looked like even in his daydreams he was a proud, gloating son-of-a-bitch…
But no, of course he couldn't do any of that. There'd be no victorious coming out party that night. But that didn't stop him from wishing like hell that he could be at the Talon– or anywhere – tonight where he and Clark could be together and just relax.
Instead he actually had nothing else to do tonight but eat alone and then work. He was twenty-one years old for goodness' sake…this was a sad and empty life.
When he walked through the front door though, briefcase in hand, and ready to hang up his jacket, he noticed straightaway how dark it was in the house. The mansion, unlit was a cold and foreboding place. He wasn't superstitious as a rule but it was something about knowing how ancient the stones of the manor were that made him feel vulnerable and insignificant.
"Hello?" he called out into the gloom.
"Hannah?"
There was no reply. The faint orange glow of one lamp on a side-table drew him in, and he walked over without even attempting to turn on the main lights. The lamp shone down on a folded piece of white paper – his own personal stationary – which simply had written "Mr. Luthor" on the top side.
He knew that writing.
He unfolded the note and read the few brief lines in a simple curving hand.
"Your father left so abruptly that day because of me. When I opened the door I was expecting your friend, and he made me tell him why. I tried to lie for you, but in the end he made me tell him all that I knew. I'm so sorry. I have betrayed your trust and as such, please accept my resignation. I hope one day you can forgive me."
Hannah. His father had a way of blackmailing his damn housekeeper into revealing his secret. Lionel had always been in every tiny part of his life except this, this wonderful new happiness that he'd struggled for, and now…
The light went out as the lamp smashed against the opposite wall, Lex flinging it with all his might and cursing his father's name as he did so.
~ ~ ~
He made sure that when Lionel arrived he was sitting casually at his desk, working on his computer. There was no chair seated opposite him. It was the most basic of confrontational business psychology, but seated behind his own desk in his own study he could try and pretend that his father was on his territory in here; or, at the very least, that they would be speaking man to man, and not father to child.
He knew that his father was coming of course. After reading Hannah's note, and a few minutes of cursing and nearly punching a whole in the wall, he'd sank down to the floor and sat there for about ten minutes staring into nothing, silent through sheer seething anger as well as abject terror at everything crashing down around him. He'd felt that same disembodied panic as he had the night of the party, but this time there were no beautiful and cold faces around him to escape from, only an empty house. That was what made it worse of course – the fact that his father could force his life to come to a halt without even having to be there…it was his very absence, the threat of things to come that gave him so much power: because you knew that there was no way in hell that he wasn't using this time just to plan something…
It would have been infinitesimally more comforting if he'd come home that day Lionel had dropped by so suddenly, only to find him waiting for him, half-heartedly examining his works of art with a critical eye, while asking him why his housekeeper seemed to think there was something going on between him and Clark Kent. Yes, that would have been far more comforting because that would have shown him testing for a reaction; it would have meant he'd found the whole thing amusing, but still perhaps curious enough to check, just in case it wasn't some idiotic misunderstanding by an old woman. Lex could have handled that situation. He could have dismissed any lingering suspicions with a bored and impatient attitude and muttered something about the senility of his staff.
But Lionel had left straight away. He'd gone straight back to Metropolis, and pretty fast if Clark's testimony was anything to go by. Not a word since. That scared Lex more than anything.
He was sitting now, expecting his father because he knew that if Lionel was planning anything whatsoever, he'd need no more than 24 hours to arrange it. This he knew from experience – that was all the time he had to prepare for this transfer to Smallville after all. Oh yes, he knew his father all right…
And that is why he managed to sit, unflinching, as his father walked in slowly a little while later, stood in front of him, and announced,
"How's Europe sound to you Lex?"
His son had casually carried on browsing away on his computer.
"Familiar." He'd replied. "Isn't that where you threatened to banish me to after that little incident in '98?"
"It's a pity I didn't " Lionel came back steadily. "Maybe then you would have learnt a little obedience."
Lex did nothing but raise an eyebrow. Lionel smiled back at his son's affected nonchalance, and in one firm swing, sent the computer monitor crashing down to the floor.
Lex jumped up in shock.
"Jesus, dad!" He cried before he could help himself. Filled with self-loathing at allowing himself to react that way he quickly regained his composure and shook his head as he walked around the desk surveying the damage as he went.
"I have to say destruction of property...that's a little impulsive for you isn't it?"
His father's eyes were steady and boring into him only a few inches away now.
" 'Impulsive' seems to be the only thing you understand Lex." He replied. God I hate how he says my name, was all Lex could think Like everytime he says it he's reminding me that I belong to him…that he gave me that name.
All he did though was glare back into those eyes, as his father's voice came clear and decisive, his expression one of barely concealed victory.
" This was your chance Lex, to prove yourself, to prove that you could be responsible and fall in line with this company. Maybe, in years to come you might have another chance, but I'm not convinced you're ready. Yes, I think Europe might suit you for a while. I admit it's a slightly more colourful exile than Smallville , Kansas, but there at least you can indulge all your juvenile fancies to your heart's content without the burden of all this responsibility."
He shook his head slightly, looking in more contempt than pity at the child before him trying to look so defiant.
"I've strived all my life to shape you into a man worthy to be called my son - worthy of my legacy, my name, and my reputation-"
"Your legacy, what am I ,just an investment to you?"
"Oh don't be so naïve Lex, every child is an investment to their parents!" Lionel snapped back. "And you were to be my greatest one; for when my time comes –and be assured it will be in the far, far distant future –I want, as every man does, to be able to look at all areas of my influence and say 'these are my greatest achievements". And Lex, my boy, whatever you may think of me I have always strived to make sure that you would be one of them. But here you are…risking everything to behave like a foolish child, and causing me no amount of shame and embarrassment into the bargain; not only for your behaviour which I stress here and now will not be tolerated , but for your defiance of my wishes-"
"Don't tell me this is about RoseTech-"
"-I told you not to cross Jonathon Kent!" Lionel's yell resounded around the study. There was rage in his eyes now. "And instead what did you do? Set out to corrupt his only son in the most insulting way possible!"
"You've never loved anything in your life have you Dad?"
Lionel laughed bitterly, "Oh for God's sake Lex don't dare to claim your latest perverted activities amount to love…"
"I meant you and me Dad!" Lex cried out. Lionel's smile faded. "You've never once felt anything but disappointment in me have you? Admit it, you've never loved your only son! You wanted to love Julian, and yourself, but not me, and not Mom!" He heard the cracking sound of the slap before he felt it across his face.
Leaning over him Lionel's voice was dangerously low, his hands unshaking.
"For once in your life son, stop proving yourself a fool by talking of things of which you know nothing."
A long pause came, and he expected his words to sink in. He expected him to loose his courage, as always for this son, so so angry with him and yet all the time both reminding him of himself, and his wife. He hated Lex's defiance as he'd hated hers, but loved his charisma as he loved his own…The boy just needed to stop acting like a petulant arrogant child. So of course, there they were, those hot angry eyes glaring back at him, mouth set firm, and cheek burning red, though at least he had the self respect not to clutch at it in pain, or break into tears. Good. Now he could have yet another short period of obedience.
But as he opened his mouth to continue berating his son, the pattern of many, many years was broken by Lex standing tall and saying firmly.
"Mom was ashamed of you."
Even he had never seen so much malevolence in one gaze as his father gave him now.
"What did you say?" His voice was nothing but a whispered rasp.
Lex swallowed hard.
"You heard. I might be the disappointing freak of a son to you, but she was never ashamed of me Dad. It was you who were the disgrace to her in the end."
"You don't know anything you little-"
"I know what she told me! I know that when she was dying she wept with shame and begged me again and again to forgive you for not being the father you should be! A father who slept around-"
It was a real hit this time. Straight across the mouth in a sudden rush of rage at this pure incessant insolence.
Standing tall again, Lex lifted a hand up to his broken lip and looked down at the blood. His eyes flashed up defiantly and triumphantly.
"You know she saw this coming."
"I'm warning you, stop right now!
"In the end she didn't love you – she finally saw what you were."
Another strike to the other side of his face stunned him longer, but struggling back up Lex cried on relentless, basking in his triumph at breaking his father's composure – of finally hitting him where it hurt, and without resorting to fists himself.
" You were a cheating-"
Strike to the ribs an a scream of "Quiet!". Oh yes, let him yell.
" Lying-"
Another wild one as he fell to the floor gripping his sides.
"Cold-hearted son-of –a-bitch-"
He was gasping the words out now but god did it feel good to see the rage in his eyes, to know each punch was a victory over his father's self-control and a triumph for every thing he was saying…
"You will be quiet!" Lionel roared.
Crouching on the floor bloodied and a pain soaring down his sides forcing him to breathe shakily, Lex looked up at him with a face full of smug patronising disdain.
"She begged the forgiveness of her child for having stayed with a man totally unworthy of being a father."
"Quiet!" Lionel yelled, as grabbing him by his shirt he pulled his son towards him and gave another firm right hook across the face.
This time there was no reply, only dazed looking eyes staring back up at him. Slowly they seemed to focus on his face again. They were full of helpless accusation.
Those eyes had looked up at him from a crib. They had looked up at him from a hospital bed. The past couple of years they had been looking at him with growing open contempt.
He looked down at his own bloodied hands, and down at this…child. He'd done this to him. He'd crossed the line he had never even contemplated crossing. What had Lex made him do? He was a proud, authoritative, and demanding father, but he was not this. He could not be this monster his son thought he was…He could not be incapable of love…
He'd seen those eyes in someone else's face too though; looking up at him from a mass of machines and tubes. Surely no real man should have his wife and son look at him like that.
"Get packing." He said quietly, not really sure if he was speaking. "Be gone by the end of the week."
Slowly he turned and made his way out the room with uncertain steps, each one resounding in Lex's head as he lay on the floor, too tired an aching to move, tears in his eyes as he wordlessly prayed for his mother.
The distant sound of his father's car driving off was all he heard before silence descended on the empty house.
His triumph was empty and bitter in his mouth and he was broken and alone…
"Clark…" he whispered.
TBC.