A Death In The Family Part One: Chapter Two:
It was a few hours later when Clark was making his ten thousand nine hundred and fifty-seventh pass by his seated mother in his hurried pacing when Chloe Sullivan, Clark's blond hair, blue eyed, female, high school news paper friend, entered the room with Pete Ross right behind her. Pete and Clark had been friends almost since the first day either of them could remember. He was a wise cracking, African American, young man who held a small resentment to Lex for stealing Clark's attention away from him.
"I think that section of the carpet is at least two shade lighter now," Chloe said standing before Clark. "Why don't you just drop a bottle of bleach over it? It would go a lot faster and would save the wear and tear on your shoes."
Clark looked down at his feet to find she had greatly exaggerated the situation.
"Chloe, Pete, it's so nice of you to come," Martha smiled as she looked up at them.
"Mrs. Kent," Pete smiled back.
"Did you go by the house like we asked?" Jonathan joined them from across the room.
"I'm afraid so," She answered with a worried look. "There were police all over the property, and they were taking things out of you trash bin. We heard the distinct sounds of large bottles clacking together from inside the bags."
Clark gave his father a worried glance. "We didn't drink anything, Dad."
"I know, son," Jonathan said back. "This is how the Luthors deal with things. Get the attention away from themselves, even if it means breaking the law or incriminating others."
"What will happen now?" Pete asked.
Most likely, what ever Lionel wants to happen," Jonathan told them with a sigh. "We are in his web, weather we like it or not."
"Well, how is Lex?" Chloe asked noticing Clark's distant look at the mention of the name.
"We haven't heard anything," Martha fielded the question for her son. "We are just sitting here hoping that Lionel will tell us something so we can go home."
Clark seemed to snap to attention again. "I just had an idea, and you two can help me," he smiled at his two friends.
"What are you planning, Clark?" Jonathan, with his concerned Dad Look, asked.
Clark turned his father. "I won't be able to rest until I see him, Dad," he told him. "I saw Lionel Luthor leave a few minutes ago, and now Lex is alone in there. If Chloe and Pete can create a diversion, I can sneak pass the nurses and get into Lex's room. I can see him and maybe get some information from his charts while I am there."
"This is risky, Clark," Martha warned.
A hurt but determined look came over Clark's face. "I have to do this," he said. "I need to see Lex, and he needs to know we are pulling for him."
After a few more minutes of whispers and planning in the small waiting room just outside the ICU unit, Clark, Chloe and Pete determined that they had a plan, and began to enact it.
Chloe and Pete were the first to walk into the unit through the large automatic doors. She had pulled a notepad and pen from her large shoulder bags containing her lap top computer among other things, and Pete held up a camera and instantly began snapping pictures of the entire ICU. They walked in like they owned the placed, and made enough commotion to alert the nurses at the nurse's station that they had arrived.
"Get pictures of as many beds as possible," Chloe said as they made their approach to the center of the hall.
"Excuse me," one of the nurses said from the desk. "You can not be in here."
"This will only take a minute," Chloe smiled snapping her gum. "My name is Polly Purebred with the Inquisitor. Rumor has it that you have in your care one Alexander Luthor, son to that stunningly handsome billionaire Lionel Luthor." She nearly had to choke her description of Lionel out of her mouth.
"If Mr. Luthor were here, I can assure you that we could not confirm it for you," the young red headed female nurse said. "And we never allow pictures on this floor." She placed her hand over Pete's lenses.
"Oh, come on, dear," Chloe waved her pen. "There could be a commission in this for you."
"You need to leave," Said a second nurse who joined them.
"We won't bother no one," Pete said walking over to the nearest cubical. "Is baby Warbucks in here?" He pulled the drape back, but was consciously careful to not disrupt the person on the other side. This was an act, and he had no desire to risk anyone's health to pull off the stunt.
"Please," the second nurse, an African American young woman closed the curtain. "These people need their rest."
"Let's check this one, Joe," Chloe walked around the first nurse to a cubical in the opposite direction.
"Sure thing, Polly," Pete flipped his ball cap around on his head so the visor was facing backwards, and began clicking away.
The two nurses who were alone on the floor followed them off in a distant direction with heavy protest as Clark stuck his head through the door and made his way into the large hall. He identified the cubical that Lionel had gone into early that day, and made a direct approach hoping that the nurses would not turn away from their argument with Chloe and Pete, to find him sneaking pass the station.
Clark took a big gulp of air when he reached the room. His hands were shaking as he pulled on the curtain allowing just enough room for him to slip in. He wanted to take a second to regain his composure, but there was no time with the nurses only a few yards away. So in one swift movement, he passed through the opening and stood a few feet away from Lex's bed.
He lost his breath for a second as he took in the sight of a battered and beaten Lex lying before him. There was hardly and inch of the young man's body that was not covered in bruises. He looked so pale and weak under the blotches of blue, purple, yellow, red and black. It was clear that the car must have rolled over several times and thrown his around like a rag doll inside the cab. Clark had warned his friend several times of the dangers involved with driving at such high speeds and with out a seat belt. These warnings had gone un-heard, and now Lex was fighting for his life after taking a beating at his own hands. A cast covered Lex's left arm as Clark thought he had saw earlier. He now noticed one over his right leg that went from his ankle up to and over the hipbone. The respirator tube coming out of his mouth alarmed Clark the most. He remembered the last memories of his grand father were with a hose down his throat, also.
Making a short step forward, Clark felt the warm flow of a loose tear roll down his left cheek. The sight of his best friend in such bad shape had touched him so deeply, that he had started releasing his emotions before he was even aware.
His second step brought Clark to the bed's railing where he stood about mid way centered at Lex's side. He wiped away the stray tear and attempted to focus on his friend's body. Straining his eyes, he used his x-ray vision and searched Lex over from head to foot.
After only a few seconds, Clark exhaled heavily and fell forward catching himself on the rail. This time his tears did not catch him by surprise, he wept as he thought about what he had seen in the short time he allowed himself. Lex's body was as beaten on the inside as he was on the out side. He had several serious head injuries and a slightly dislocated disc at the foot of his scull where it meets the spine. The neck brace was holding his head still and the disc in place. Pins were jetting out of at least three places where the casts on his leg and arm were holding him and them together, and it was clear that his lungs and several other organs had been stitched within the last few hours. All of this Clark saw with out even trying to get a full view.
"Lex," he spoke his friend's name. "I'm so sorry. How could you let this happen?"
Clark leaned over him to see if there was any indication that Lex knew he was there. His gaze was met with silence and the loud beeping of the many machines that surrounded them.
"What happened to you?" He asked with a soft tone. "Where did you go after you left my house last night? And why would you drive in such bad shape? I know you; you are much too smart to do something so stupid."
A pang hit Clark in his chest. Here Lex was fighting for his life, and he was questioning his best friend's abilities and intelligence.
"I'm sorry, Lex," Clark added. "I just can't believe you would drive while drunk. What happen to put you in this shape?" The remorse was heavy on his brow.
The silence over the hums and beeps of the machines was deafening for Clark. He reached over and put his middle and index fingers on the small part of Lex's forehead that was not covered with bruises or welts.
"Do you feel that, Lex?" He asked as a droplet of tear fell on Lex's hospital shirt. "That my hand reaching out to touch you. It is reaching across 'the divide' to wherever you are to guide you back. Follow my hand back, Lex. I'm here waiting for you."
Clark wiped his face against his sleeve of the arm that was leaning on the rail. "In my church," he continued. "We believe that if anyone is hurt or sick, then you can lay hands on them and pray for a healing like they did back in the Bible days. I've seen it done a lot and have been told how people who were sick found themselves feeling better right after. My Pastor says he has witnessed blind eyes suddenly being able to see and crippled people getting up to walk. So I know it can be done, and I believe."
He looked up again at the unchanged face of his friend. "I am not some great pillar of faith, but I want to pray for you, Lex," Clark said in a controlled, crying voice. "I know that God will heal you if you let him. Believe that you can be healed, Lex."
Clark's words were being choked away by his tears, but still he began to pour his heart and soul into his prayer. He pleaded and cried to the great Lord above, and even spoke in the holy tongues for a short while, as spoken about in the Bible. He prayed and asked for complete healing for his friend.
Then after several minutes, after tiring himself out, Clark stopped and gently placed both hands over Lex's chest. He looked into his face. "My Dad said that people spend too much time talking to the mind when something goes wrong," he said. "He told me the best way to get through to someone is to talk to the heart. Both in spirit and in actuality, so here goes." He leaned his head against his hands as not to apply any pressure to his frail form, opened a small space between them and spoke into Lex's chest. "Please don't die, Lex," he said; the words soft and clear into Lex's heart.
When he had finished another short prayer, Clark heard the curtain being drawn and the doctor he spoke to earlier was standing there looking at him.
"What are you doing here?" The balding middle-aged man asked. "Where is Mr. Luthor's guard?"
"There was no guard," Clark told him, honestly. "I snuck in while the nurses were not looking."
"Well," the doctor spoke, sizing him up. "You will have to leave now. Mr. Luthor senior gave very clear instructions that no one was to be in here. I believe you were one of his prime targets in that order."
"Please," Clark wiped away a dried tear. "I needed to see him for myself. I know he looks bad, but could you please tell me more? Is he really as bad as he looks?"
The doctor looked him over again and then back at Lex.
"Please, Doctor Burns," he read his identification tags. "Lex is my best friend. Don't you remember when your parents didn't approve of all your friends? It still didn't make them any less important to you."
Doctor Burns ran his hand over his head as he considered his plead for information.
"He's very bad," He finally said. "I'm afraid that we were able to patch your friend up as best as we could, but there was a lot of injury to critical points in his head."
Clark took a quick glance back at Lex with hurt in his eyes. "What does that mean for him?" He asked turning back.
Dr. Burns took a deep breath before answering. "We are running more conclusive tests, but at this point, all indications show that Mr. Luthor has no brain activity to speak of."
Clark felt the vile in his stomach reach its peak and touch the back of his throat. He knew what the doctor was telling him, and the thought was making him physically ill.
"Brain dead?" Clark squeaked out.
Burns said nothing but allowed his gaze to drift to the floor.
Clark had to steady himself against the glass wall behind him. "This can't be happening," He whispered.
The doctor gave him a moment to let the idea sink in, and he then spoke again. "I am sorry, young man. I need to ask you to leave again. Mr. Luthor would not want you in here."
He took Clark's arm and led him to the entrance. He was in no shape to put up a fight and followed.
"Wait," Clark stopped. "I need to know." He looked into the doctor's eyes. "What happens if the test come back showing that Lex is brain dead?" The words tasted as horrible in his mouth as the vile did.
"Then Mr. Luthor will have to decide weather to continue life support systems or not," his words were short and decisive.
Clark quickly spun around and looked back through the opened curtain at Lex. "No."
The automatic doors whisked open with Jonathan and Martha Kent standing behind them.
"Please, son," Doctor Burns pulled his arm one last time.
Clark began to tug himself away. "Please let me stay with him. He can't be brain dead. I'll prove it."
By that time the two nurses who were no longer preoccupied with Pete and Chloe came over and helped Dr. Burns pull on Clark to remove him from the ward. They were tugging with all their might but could not get him to budge an inch.
Clark simply looked back at Lex with a lost look in his eyes. He made no effort to move either way.
"Mr. Kent," The doctor called to his parents in the outer lobby.
Both Jonathan and Martha ran to Clark's side.
"Honey," Martha took his wet face in her hands. "You are not doing Lex any good by disturbing his doctors."
"They say he's brain dead, Ma," Clark said between heavy breaths. "They are talking about disconnecting life support."
Martha looked over at Jonathan who was tugging on his son's arm.
Clark was about to pull away when he heard his father whisper in his ear. "Son, stop this before you hurt someone."
The realization of who he was and what he could do hit Clark with those words. He stopped pulling and allowed himself to be taken into his mother's arms.
"It's okay, baby," She said softly. "Everything will be okay."
"Lex can't die, Ma," Clark told her. "He just can't."
It took a few minutes to collect him self enough to be lead back to the waiting room. After they had all left the hall, Lionel Luthor came out of a nearby cubical with a foam cup of coffee in his hand.
"I am so sorry about that," Doctor Burns apologized. "I assure you he will not be able to get back in here again."
"I am sure," Lionel gave him a cold stare. "Find that security guard and send him packing, and then get a new man up here to guard my son's room. I will not have his health jeopardized any further."
"Of course, Mr. Luthor," Burns groveled as he darted away.
Chloe, Pete, Martha and Jonathan kept a close vigil over Clark as he sat in the corner of the waiting room. All their efforts to offer him a ride home were denied. He did not want to leave his friend, even if he was not allowed to be at his side.
Chloe decided to make the first approach towards him. She sat on the chair to the left of where he was seated. She gave him a quick, polite smile.
"Hey," she grunted.
"Hey," he replied softly.
"So, how long do you plan to do this vigilant thing?" She asked with a worried look.
Clark looked at her for the first time. "You don't think I should be here either, do you?"
"I didn't say that at all," she said putting her hands up in a mock defense. "I just think everyone is worried about you right now, and we would feel better if you weren't wound so tight."
"You all want me to walk away from Lex?" He asked with a hurt look.
"No," Chloe touched his arm softly. Her hands brushed against his biceps. She had almost forgotten how attracted she was to this little boy who was showing through the man. She wanted to take him into her arms and comfort him, but she knew Clark would not allow that from her.
Chloe shook off her thoughts of anguish and spoke again. "We want you to take care of yourself. Right now Lionel doesn't want you to see Lex, and he's too upset with you hanging around to change his mind. Maybe if you went home and came back later, or tomorrow, he might have a change of heart."
"I can't leave, Chloe," he said as a tear formed in his eye. "Now, may be the only time Lex has left. I can't leave him."
Chloe ran her hand through his thick dark hair. "You're a really good friend, Clark."
"I may be the only friend Lex ever had," Clark said softly in her ear. "He told me once that I was the closest thing he had to a real friend. Lionel is cold and distant to him and with his mother gone, I am pretty much the only connection he has to staying in the world of the living."
Chloe could see that his words were true and honest. She knew that Lex was a loner, for the most part, but even she was unaware of how much.
"I know you and Pete feel left out some times, but I guess I sorta made Lex my mission in life," Clark explained as he studied his hands. "I know what it's like to be different and alone inside, but I always had Pete and now you to help keep me in the light. Lex has no one, and I think he tends to walk on the dark side when there's no one to call him on his actions."
"Clark Kent, hero to the down and out," Chloe joked. "You have a real hero complex going for yourself, Clark."
Clark smiled for the first time all morning.
"May I ask you to do me a favor?" She asked in her worried, mom look.
He always liked the way Chloe tried to take control of his life when she thought he was troubled. Most people would find it annoying, but Clark found it endearing. The fact that he figured out long ago that he could easily out-run or ditch her at any given moment also helped to keep him comfortable with her intrusions.
"Sure," he beamed her his best smile, possible.
"Please take care of yourself," she said. "You worrying yourself sick is not going to help Lex, and in the end will make this whole thing harder on your folks."
Clark took notice of Jonathan and Martha reading the outdated magazines across the room. They had no reason to really be there, other than to lend him support. Clark always felt he had the best parents in the world, and today he was sure of it.
"Are they worried?" He asked, whispering to her.
"They are your parents, what do you think?" Chloe gave him a rye look. "You are like the kid from another planet to them right now. They know how much you care about Lex. So they are hanging around waiting to hear on the condition of a man they don't even particularly like. Not to mention that Lex's father is incriminating them on this whole drunk driving thing while they are here unable to protect themselves."
Clark buried his face in his hands. "I keep thinking that this can't be happening, and then I opening my eyes again and here I am again."
He was lifting his head when he saw a worried Lana Lang and her boyfriend, Whitney Fordman enter the room. The momentary jump in Clark's heart went flat at the sight of his life long dream girl with her super jock date.
Lana was everything Clark had ever thought he wanted in a girl with her long dark hair, milky complexion and slightly Asian features. She had held a special place in his young heart ever since the first day his boyish desires took interest in girls. He wanted to run to her and let her hold him in her arms, but the sight of the blond, muscle bound Whitney who held her arm, turned his wish to ashes.
Chloe could sense her moment with Clark was over and pulled away. Lana had this effect on her whenever the three of them were near each other. As much as Chloe wanted Clark's interest, she felt she could never compete with the girl of his dreams.
"I'm sorry we're late," Lana said stopping before Clark and Chloe. "The acting principal was not happy with so many of us leaving school to check on Lex. He insisted that I complete my morning classes."
"Has there been any word?" Whitney asked stepping up behind her.
"They are still running tests," Clark said softly. "So far they have been inconclusive. The closes they can figure is that he might be... "The words caught in his throat. "He might be brain dead." His eyes continued to drift to the floor.
"I'm so sorry," Lana placed her hand on the back of his head. "I know how much Lex means to you, and he's a pretty nice guy."
Clark had nothing to say. He sat silently, rubbing his head with his hands.
"Is there anything we can do?" Whitney asked turning to Jonathan and Martha, also.
"No," Martha stood up. "You shouldn't have to be here, Whitney. You have been though so many medical issues in your own family for the last few months. You shouldn't have to be here worrying about Lex, too." She placed her tender hand on his arm.
"Actually, Lex has been a pretty nice guys to me," He gave Clark a quick look as the two remembered when Whitney was coaxed into robbing Lex a few months back. Lex knew that he was one of the thugs, but never pressed charges or even mentioned it after the fact. Whitney always wondered how much of Lex's decision not to pursue the issue was Clark's doing.
Lana took the seat across from Clark and took his hands. "I know this must be hard on you, Clark. I know how it feels to watch someone you love die. I will never forget the anguish I went through when my parents died."
Clark's body tensed up for a moment. "Please don't do that," he let out with a soft sigh.
"Do what?" She asked.
"Please don't make this about your parents again," Clark let the words slip pass his lips. "This is nothing like you went through with them. I know it was hard watching them get killed in front of your eyes, and I am sorry you had to see it, but this is not the same thing."
Clark looked up from his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. He knew his words were cutting deep into her, but he had already come too far to stop. He needed to tell her what he was thinking, if not for her, then to clear the air once and for all on this matter.
"It was a brief moment in your life, a life time ago," his eyes seemed slightly colder. "You were three years old. You barely knew them and then they were gone. Lex and I have been trying hard to build a real friendship in the last several months. I know it doesn't compare to a parent-child bond, but right now I can still remember every word we ever spoke. I can see his eyes behind those closed eyelids in there, in my mind. I see him vital and alive in my head, because ten minutes ago, he was. He's not a memory, Lana. He's my friend dying in the very next room. So please don't give me the little girl lost story, again."
Clark jumped out of his chair. His juices were flowing, and he needed to calm himself.
"Clark," Martha cautioned from across the room.
"It's all right, Mrs. Kent," Lana brushes a tear away. "Clark is right. I don't really know what it feels like to watch someone die slowly, but it doesn't mean I don't care."
Clark turned back to her with a hurt look. He got down on one knee and took her hands like she had done for him. "I'm sorry, Lana," he said with a soft gentle voice. "I guess I am just a little over emotional right now, but I do care about you, and I am telling you this because I care."
Clark took a deep breath glancing at the floor before returning her stare again. "You once told me that everyone thinks of you as the little fairy princess girl on that Time magazine cover who just lost her parents, but in truth, that is partly your doing." A tear rolled down Clark's cheek as he explained. "You may not see it, Lana, but maybe everyone sees you as that little girl, because that is where you have been living the last twelve years. Do you realize that hardly a week goes by when you don't remind someone of your parent's deaths? I know you will always live with that, but you have to stop living in that memory. You need to move on, Lana."
Chloe watched in amazement from behind Clark. She had never seen him talk to Lana so directly about her feelings. Whatever he was going through in his head, Clark was dusting out some corners and clearing the air.
"I know," Lana wiped away his tear with her thumb. "Believe it or not, that was not the first time someone has told me that. I guess I have been using it as a crutch for so long that I forget how to live with out it."
"You are so much more than the sum of your parent's death, Lana," He took her hand from his face and kissed it. "Don't ever forget that."
She gave him a polite smile as if to assure him that she was all right, and he got back up on his feet. He turned to Whitney who was remarkably quiet through the whole ordeal.
The two young men stared for a moment at each other, but neither gave any indication as to what he was thinking, so Clark walked passed him and approached the door.
"I'm going for a walk," He called back.
"Would you like someone to go with you, son?" Jonathan asked.
Clark looked back into the room of his friends. "No, thanks, I need to clear my head. I'll be back."
Chloe moved over to Clark's vacant seat and leaned over to Lana. "Are you okay?" She asked.
"Yeah," Lana wiped away a stray tear. "If you can't hear the truth from your friends, then who can you hear it from?"
Chloe held her hand for a moment.
"Hey, check this out," Pete called from across the room with the remote to the television in his hand. "Lex is on TV."
They all turned to the monitor and watched as a picture of Lex flashed behind the anchorman's head. Pete used the control to raise the volume enough for them to hear.
"The latest update on the health of the young Alexander Luthor, son to Billionaire environmental tycoon, Lionel Luthor has the younger Luthor listed in critical condition at Metropolis General Hospital, it has come to our attention that Lionel Luthor has called a press conference out side of the hospital's ICU unit in twenty minutes to up date us on his son's condition. Undisclosed sources have indicated that Alexander's health may be taking a turn for the worst after his violent car crash last night just out side of the Smallville town limits. We will be carrying the live press conference when it takes place. So please stay tune to this station for the latest news."
Pete clicked the remote and turned to the others. "What do you think this is about?" He questioned.
"What ever it is," Jonathan commented, with yet a worried look. "Knowing Lionel, it can't be good."
"We should tell Clark," Chloe said.
"Wait a minute," Lana looked around the room. "Where did Whitney go?"
Martha and Jonathan turned to each other with heavy sighs.
TO BE CONTINUED
***Notes ***
Thank you for all the kind words. I hope you will enjoy each chapter this much
To Merrie and others, I hope I have corrected the 'smooshed' problem. If you have an idea to make it even better, then please let me know.
To Robyn, this story won't be over until the fat lady sings, and there is no Anna Nichol here. Please keep reading.
To those who wondered about the alcohol, keep reading, because as the intro saids, not all is as it seems when you are dealing with the Luthors.
Please keep reading and giving me feedback. Thank you soooo much.