This was worse than anything he'd imagined. Lex's voice, his eyes, and the expression on his face of hate and contempt. And a well-hidden pain. If he hadn't learned, slowly, how to read Lex's face, he'd never have seen it there, but it was as obvious as though it were written there, in the tiny clenching of his lips, the way his eyes didn't quite want to meet Clark's for longer than an instant.
They'd not only taken away three years of his life, they'd taken Lex's love away and substituted a Lex who hated him and was hurting because of it. A Lex who was darkened. He wasn't just afraid for himself but for Lex. Whatever Lex did to him would only make him darker. He remembered that unsettling glee on Lex's face when Rickman had made him shoot him. He'd convinced himself them it was just Rickman's shadow but it had been difficult. Now, that darkness was there again, but even worse because there was pain underneath. Lex had obviously fought the part of him that didn't want to, that still cared about Clark--and he had conquered it.
He tried to imagine how he'd feel if things were reversed. Not good. But he'd not want to hurt Lex? Or would he? Maybe just a bit, at first. But if he knew that Lex hadn't left because he wanted to, and hadn't been trying to get anything out of him, and had always wanted to tell him...
"Lex..." The look he got as he spoke was as hard as though Lex had physically struck him. Clark dully wondered if that was what Lex was going to do, beat him, even torture him. Or maybe Lex was going to kill him. He didn't even know what he hoped for, since there was no way that he could hope for Lex to take him back to Smallville or care about him again. Wishes were another thing and he could feel them spilling over in a pile of wasted little "if only" fragments of dreams.
"I'll tell you when I want conversation." Lex turned his head to look out the tinted window.
The limousine pulled into a parking garage and Lex pushed a button. "Support him in as though he's drunk." The driver and another person in the front seat got out, opened the door, and hauled him out. Lex led the way past a doorman, who chuckled as Lex muttered, "Never agree to host a college student."
"In there," Lex said briefly to the men supporting him as the elevator door opened into the penthouse. He pointed. Clark looked up to see Toby, wearing the same scruffy leather, sitting on a couch made of much more polished leather, as they half-helped, half-shoved him into a dark bedroom.
"Toby, clear up whatever's wrong with his back."
"Hey, don't I know this guy?"
"You met him once a few years back. He's...changed."
"I'll say. What'd you do to yourself, kid?"
"There's something...embedded in my back. Green pellets."
Toby's hands were surprisingly light as they probed at him. "This is one gross situation."
"Always glad to get the professional medical opinion, Toby," Lex responded. Clark looked up to see him leaning against the wall and watching.
"Okay, lie down and I'll see what I can find, if *somebody* will give me decent lighting, not mood lighting." Lex casually reached out and flipped a switch, and Toby whistled as he looked more closely.
"There should be three of them," Clark added.
"Yeah, there are three areas where it looks pretty damn ugly. I'm going to start digging up what's in the center. Lex, I assume you really don't want me just throwing it on the carpet?"
Clark heard Lex's chuckle. "I'll get you a wastebasket." He didn't like the way that Lex emphasized the word, very faintly. He couldn't feel anything beyond more pressure in his back and was surprised to hear Toby mutter, "One down, two to go. Whatever this shit is, it's powerful stuff, that thing's not bigger than a grain of salt, and look at what it's done. Lex. You and your buddies aren't playing with chemical weapons, are you? What'd I tell you about war being bad?"
"You want to forego your usual payment, that's fine, I'd respect your hippie ethics."
"Heh. Milk the industrial complex, that's my motto." After a few more moments, "There's two. Come to Papa. Well, that's Lex, not me." He hadn't felt much when the first one came out, but with this one, Clark felt a strange warmth in his back, as though it had been asleep and was starting to regain circulation. "Now, come on, you crafty little mother, I know you're in there...okay, all out. Now, just got to slap a few pounds of disinfectants in there, wrap the mummy, and give you some good strong antibiotics."
Clark tried to move as he felt the last piece of gauze taped down, but Toby put a hand on his shoulder. "Uh uh uh, not finished yet." He felt something wet and cold on his arm and then Toby muttered, "Weird. Hey, kid, you got thick skin there. Just broke two of my needles."
He forced himself to think. "Ever since I was a kid. Some kind of skin condition."
"Fine, I'll get you some pills instead." After a moment's pause, "Here's a prescription, pal. How you doing on those other pretties I gave you?" Hmmm? Oh, Toby was talking to Lex.
"I've not complained, have I? Here's the usual."
"You know what I like about you? You never whine about paying. Not like some of these folks."
"Luthors always pay. And get paid."
Clark wondered if Toby heard the implied threat, as the other man paused before answering. "Stay cool, Lex. You, too, kid. Don't go lifting weights or anything like that for a few days." He heard the door to the bedroom close, and then the outer door. It sounded like Lex had seen Toby out. Experimentally, he tried to move, and found that it was much easier.
However, as he tried to move from the bed, he felt a wave of dizziness. His body was still slowed down. If he could get something to eat, and could keep it down, he suspected that that would be enough. If he could get to the kitchen, or if he could persuade Lex to give him something to eat, then he'd start to recover his strength, now that the meteors were no longer embedded in his back.
Hearing Lex return, he tried to turn over and sit up. Unexpectedly, he felt a chilly but dry hand helping him, and looked at the figure standing over him. Lex was holding a handgun, pointing it at his face.
They'd not only taken away three years of his life, they'd taken Lex's love away and substituted a Lex who hated him and was hurting because of it. A Lex who was darkened. He wasn't just afraid for himself but for Lex. Whatever Lex did to him would only make him darker. He remembered that unsettling glee on Lex's face when Rickman had made him shoot him. He'd convinced himself them it was just Rickman's shadow but it had been difficult. Now, that darkness was there again, but even worse because there was pain underneath. Lex had obviously fought the part of him that didn't want to, that still cared about Clark--and he had conquered it.
He tried to imagine how he'd feel if things were reversed. Not good. But he'd not want to hurt Lex? Or would he? Maybe just a bit, at first. But if he knew that Lex hadn't left because he wanted to, and hadn't been trying to get anything out of him, and had always wanted to tell him...
"Lex..." The look he got as he spoke was as hard as though Lex had physically struck him. Clark dully wondered if that was what Lex was going to do, beat him, even torture him. Or maybe Lex was going to kill him. He didn't even know what he hoped for, since there was no way that he could hope for Lex to take him back to Smallville or care about him again. Wishes were another thing and he could feel them spilling over in a pile of wasted little "if only" fragments of dreams.
"I'll tell you when I want conversation." Lex turned his head to look out the tinted window.
The limousine pulled into a parking garage and Lex pushed a button. "Support him in as though he's drunk." The driver and another person in the front seat got out, opened the door, and hauled him out. Lex led the way past a doorman, who chuckled as Lex muttered, "Never agree to host a college student."
"In there," Lex said briefly to the men supporting him as the elevator door opened into the penthouse. He pointed. Clark looked up to see Toby, wearing the same scruffy leather, sitting on a couch made of much more polished leather, as they half-helped, half-shoved him into a dark bedroom.
"Toby, clear up whatever's wrong with his back."
"Hey, don't I know this guy?"
"You met him once a few years back. He's...changed."
"I'll say. What'd you do to yourself, kid?"
"There's something...embedded in my back. Green pellets."
Toby's hands were surprisingly light as they probed at him. "This is one gross situation."
"Always glad to get the professional medical opinion, Toby," Lex responded. Clark looked up to see him leaning against the wall and watching.
"Okay, lie down and I'll see what I can find, if *somebody* will give me decent lighting, not mood lighting." Lex casually reached out and flipped a switch, and Toby whistled as he looked more closely.
"There should be three of them," Clark added.
"Yeah, there are three areas where it looks pretty damn ugly. I'm going to start digging up what's in the center. Lex, I assume you really don't want me just throwing it on the carpet?"
Clark heard Lex's chuckle. "I'll get you a wastebasket." He didn't like the way that Lex emphasized the word, very faintly. He couldn't feel anything beyond more pressure in his back and was surprised to hear Toby mutter, "One down, two to go. Whatever this shit is, it's powerful stuff, that thing's not bigger than a grain of salt, and look at what it's done. Lex. You and your buddies aren't playing with chemical weapons, are you? What'd I tell you about war being bad?"
"You want to forego your usual payment, that's fine, I'd respect your hippie ethics."
"Heh. Milk the industrial complex, that's my motto." After a few more moments, "There's two. Come to Papa. Well, that's Lex, not me." He hadn't felt much when the first one came out, but with this one, Clark felt a strange warmth in his back, as though it had been asleep and was starting to regain circulation. "Now, come on, you crafty little mother, I know you're in there...okay, all out. Now, just got to slap a few pounds of disinfectants in there, wrap the mummy, and give you some good strong antibiotics."
Clark tried to move as he felt the last piece of gauze taped down, but Toby put a hand on his shoulder. "Uh uh uh, not finished yet." He felt something wet and cold on his arm and then Toby muttered, "Weird. Hey, kid, you got thick skin there. Just broke two of my needles."
He forced himself to think. "Ever since I was a kid. Some kind of skin condition."
"Fine, I'll get you some pills instead." After a moment's pause, "Here's a prescription, pal. How you doing on those other pretties I gave you?" Hmmm? Oh, Toby was talking to Lex.
"I've not complained, have I? Here's the usual."
"You know what I like about you? You never whine about paying. Not like some of these folks."
"Luthors always pay. And get paid."
Clark wondered if Toby heard the implied threat, as the other man paused before answering. "Stay cool, Lex. You, too, kid. Don't go lifting weights or anything like that for a few days." He heard the door to the bedroom close, and then the outer door. It sounded like Lex had seen Toby out. Experimentally, he tried to move, and found that it was much easier.
However, as he tried to move from the bed, he felt a wave of dizziness. His body was still slowed down. If he could get something to eat, and could keep it down, he suspected that that would be enough. If he could get to the kitchen, or if he could persuade Lex to give him something to eat, then he'd start to recover his strength, now that the meteors were no longer embedded in his back.
Hearing Lex return, he tried to turn over and sit up. Unexpectedly, he felt a chilly but dry hand helping him, and looked at the figure standing over him. Lex was holding a handgun, pointing it at his face.