Bill Ross was used to working very late hours in his law firm, but he had never worked into the early hours of the next morning in the courthouse next to his wife, Sarah Ross, who was a district judge. The two were sitting at a computer terminal in her inner chambers trying to correct the problem that they had been having with the electronic files for the last three days.
Sarah watched over her husband's shoulder as he announced. "That should be about it, Sarah. I have downloaded the anti-virus that Gab gave me tonight, and it's ready to act."
"Then do it, Bill," She said. "If this cure really restores our files, then we can get the legal system in Smallville going again."
He looked over his shoulder at her. "Here goes nothing." His index finger clicked the mouse two times and they could hear the faint hum of the hard drive kicking in. The screen lit up with bright colors and different windows at a rapid speed that their eyes could not keep up with. The whole display lasted nearly two minutes before it stopped and the court's main service page came up asking for her code and password.
Reaching across the table, Sarah entered her federal codes and hit the enter button. They each took a deep breath and waited.
A sharp, horn-like sound began and the court's legal system of files and documents opened up to the first window showing the possible menu.
"Oh, my God," Sarah gasped. "It worked. The anti-virus broke down the firewall that was keeping us from retrieving the court files. Everything is back as it was and ready for service."
"Do you realize what this means?" He turned to his wife.
"Yes, I do," said Sarah with a stern look in her eyes. "Luthor Corps and Lionel Luthor have got a lot of explaining to do. If he does have something to do with this, then Lionel will have to be brought up on federal charges of tampering with the court system."
"Can we prove something like that?" Bill asked.
"If I even suspect that he has messed with my court," she replied sternly. "Then I will make a way to prove it."
Looking back at the monitor, a smile came across Bill Ross's face. "Well, we already beat him at one game, Sarah. Tomorrow morning Jonathan and Martha will finally have their arraignment and bail will be set. Then they can set their sights on finding their son and whatever secrets Lionel was willing to make them rot in jail to hide."
Doctor Phillip Burns thought that after he had finished his internship and residencies, that he would never have to see another one-in-the-morning from a hospital ward for the rest of his life. Yet even now that he had his own private practice, he had not considered taking on the secretive title of the Luthor Corps exclusive physician would put him back on rotations again at those un-Godly hours. He made his way down the nearly silent corridor of the head trauma unit at Metropolis General Hospital, reading the chart of his one and only patient on that day. Nell Potter had been admitted under his care at the personal request of Lionel Luthor himself.
He entered the private room without looking up and came face to shoes and an unexpected guest. Doctor Burns jumped back slightly looking up at the unknown man.
"Who are you?" He questioned in the dimly lit room.
"Perry White with the Daily Planet," he smiled with his arm crossed over his freshly broken one.
"I'm sorry, Mister White," Burns waved his hand and walked around him. "We don't allow visitors, much less reporters, after hours," he said, stepping to the side of Nell's bed still reading her chart. "I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave before I call security."
"That's fine," Perry grinned turning to face him. "The two minutes it takes them to get up here will be more than enough time for you to answer my questions."
Burns looked up at him. "I was not aware they were questions to be asked about a head trauma. Are you studying Nero surgery now, Mr. White?"
"No," Perry chuckled. "But it does interest me to know how it is you know what amount of these drugs to give Miss Potter that will keep her in this deep, yet restful coma."
Phillip Burns placed his clipboard on the bed next to Nell. "Not that I owe you any explanations, but Nell has been in a coma since she was struck on the head before she arrived here, and I have been trying a radical new regiment of drug treatments to bring her out of it."
"With radical news drugs developed in the Luthor Corps labs of your new boss," Perry said with a hint of sarcasm. "According to my source over at Star Labs, some of the drugs listed in Nell's files have not even been approved by the FDA yet."
Doctor Phillips was clearly growing angry. "I don't know what it is you think you know or how you know it, but I will repeat: you must leave."
"I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers, Doctor Burns," Perry took a few steps forward. "You see this," he held up his cast arm in the sling. "I received this little present from your boss tonight for already knowing too much, so I have already paid the price, and I demand answers."
"I don't know what you think I know," Burns repeated. "And I don't work for anyone but my patients."
"Then tell me," White pulled a rolled up paper from his pocket and shoved it at Burns. "How is it that the same guy who treated Alexander Luthor would be the one who has to deal with the woman who was found in the Luthor Corps parking lot on her way to a meeting with the big 'L' him self. Your name is on this death certificate, as well as the police report that states that Lex was hammered, when every one who was with him on that night knows he did not have so much as a drop of alcohol."
"Then they are lying," Burns tried to convince him. "You will have to take that matter up with the Kent family."
"I have, doc," Perry growled. "And we have determined that you are the one with the falsehood."
Burns took a deep breath and turned away.
"Besides," Perry continued to the back of his head. "It still does not explain why you would be handling both of these cases."
"I am a Nero surgeon," He insisted. "Both of the patients suffered from head injuries, and I was called on to oversee their care."
"You have a private practice, doctor," Perry continued. "For all you know Nell was some bum on the street when they found her. It's not even clear that she had any insurance from her privately owned flower shop and coffeehouse. Why was such a highly trained and paid surgeon like yourself called in on a possible Jane Doe?"
"Because Mr. Luthor asked me to do him a personal favor," Burns finally snapped turning back. "He and Miss Potter are close, personal friends that go far back, and when he heard that she was injured on his property, he asked me to take on her case as a favor to him in which he would pay the medical expenses."
"And you never asked why he was so concerned with a mugging?" Perry questioned further.
"It was Nell Potter, his friend," Burns' eyes were almost pleading. "That is all I need to know. Mr. Luthor's private life is not my business."
"Then what about your practice?" Perry continued relentlessly. "What is Lionel making you do to this woman to keep her in a drug-induced coma?"
"Nothing," Burns replied with anguish. "I swear."
Perry looked him over slowly as if taking in one last look and turned away. "I hope you are right, Doctor Burns," he said hanging his head a little. "Because by morning the FDA will know for sure."
"Wait," Burns stopped him as he reached the door. "What do you mean?"
Perry had to hide his smile before turning back to face him. "My friend at Star Labs asked if I could fax over a copy of Nell's file for her inspection."
"That's a criminal offense," Phillip Burns declared.
"Good, then call a cop," Perry returned. "Maybe they will know how to read the files, too."
"There is nothing on these files that would be illegal," He held up the chart in his hand. "A little radical experimentation with sample drugs on a incoherent patient when there is no next of kin to approve or disapprove of the treatment, is not uncommon in my field. You have nothing to incriminate me."
"Maybe not, but we'll let the FDA decide on that. I am sure that there was something in those encrypted files you had attached to her computer records."
"You didn't." Burn's eyes grew big.
"I did, doctor," Perry, allowed his smile to show through.
"Again," Burns said with a huff. "I will remind you that delving into personal hospital files is a federal offence. I could have you arrested right now."
"But you won't," Perry grinned. "You see doctor, arresting me is not a major concern. I know how to reach Nell's only next of kin, and it could take some time and a mess of paperwork, but I would eventually be cleared. You however will have a lot of explaining to do when the records I have uncovered are revealed to either the public or my personal choice, the FDA."
Phillip Burns looked deep into Perry's eyes with fire behind his own pupils. "This is blackmail."
"This is saving a woman's life," White corrected. "And God only knows how many more. If Lionel is willing to keep Nell in a coma and send someone to ruff me up, doctor, then who else will be affected by this?"
Burns stood silent for a long minute. He then turned back the bed. "I don't see how I could help you even if I wanted to, Mr. White."
"But I do," Perry whispered in his ear. "You are already in this up to your neck. The only 'out' you have would be to give a gesture of good faith. Whatever drug you were about to give Nell from that syringe in your pocket, don't administer. Allow Nell to wake up and tell her side of the story."
Burns made no response as Perry stepped away. "I may be able to convince the licensing board that you went out of your way to correct Lionel's deception. I'm sure they will be very receptive to the facts when I tell them it was you who saved the day."
The door opened and Phillip heard Perry slip out into the hall. He was alone with a sleeping Nell Potter and the needle he pulled from his lab coat. He held it up to the dim light and inspected the yellow tinted substance inside. He turned back to the door still holding up the device. This was the moment of decision for him, and he was not sure what to do. Phillips Burns stood by Nell's bed for a long time in the early morning hours of that day.
The black hole that Clark found himself trapped in was rudely broken open when he felt a cold hand slapping lightly at his face. He was able to force his weary eyes open and found himself still spread out on his bedroom floor in the Wayne Manor. A worried Alfred Pennyworth was staring down at him with wide eyes.
"Master Clark," The English servant sighed with a sense of relief. "I was afraid that we might have lost you."
Clark wanted to say something, or at least smile for the older man, but both his voice and movement of his facial muscles seemed to be gone. The most he could work up in those first few seconds of consciousness were two blinks of his eyelids.
Alfred felt for a fever on the young man who was sweating uncontrollably. "You are burning up, young sir," he announced softly. "We must get you in bed and I shall call for a doctor at once."
"No," Clark was able to force out. "Please don't."
"But sir," Alfred protested. "You yourself would agree that you are having a violent reaction to whatever was in the city's drinking water supply, and perhaps Doctor Thompkins could give you a shot to help clean out your system."
"She," Clark stuttered. "She won't be able to."
"I do not understand," Alfred replied while trying to sit him up.
"I can't explain it," Clark continued. "I just know that there is nothing she can do to help me. The poison is in my system and it has to work its way through."
"But, Master Clark, the blood," Alfred protested again resting Clark against his chest.
"Please, Alfred," Clark pleaded. "Trust me on this one. The doctor won't be able to help."
"Very well," Alfred lifted him up as best as he could onto the bed. "I shall play this out your way for now, but should you not be feeling better by dawn's first light, I shall summon the doctor despite your protest."
Clark rested his head against the pillow. "Thank you, Alfred," he said with a heavy breath. "I am already feeling better."
He was wrapped in several layers of the comforter and blankets and still Clark shivered as if he were standing out in the worst winter cold without a stitch of clothing. Alfred sat on the bed next to him and watched as the younger man tried to put on a brave face through what he was sure was shear terror.
"Lana and Chloe," Clark swallowed hard.
"Master Bruce and Miss Lana have gone into town to retrieve Miss Chloe," Alfred told him with a smile. He did leave out the part that 'The Edge' club was on fire and Chloe was among the missing persons.
"Make sure," Clack stammered. "Make sure they don't see me like this."
"Of course," Alfred replied with a nervous smile. "You must rest and I shall make another pot of tea. You need to get fluid into your system to flush the poison out."
Clark nodded his head as Alfred stood up.
Alfred watched a few more minutes as Clark nodded off to sleep again. He rubbed his wrist that Clark had held so tightly to, and felt a sharp pain. Some how it had gotten twisted by the scared teen and was slightly dislocated. He took in a sigh of relief as he followed the trail of tattered clothes into the bathroom. Once there, he could see what was once the two thousand dollar suit Clark wore earlier scatter in small swatches of wet material all over the floor. He crouched down and picked up some of the small remnants.
"Master Clark," he said softly. "It would appear that you are not a average teen."
Pete Ross had gotten Lionel Luthor off the floor in the closet of his private living quarters and into the hospital bed. The elder man seemed very disorientated and still cowered from Pete as he placed the blankets over him.
"Are you alright now, Mr. Luthor?" Pete asked with a forced smile. He hated this man more than anyone he had ever met after the way he had robbed his family out of the creamed corn factor so many years ago, but Pete had never seen his sworn nemesis in such a sad state. He tucked Lionel in and then stepped away.
It was then that the dimmer switched to the lights had been turned up and Pete faced a new occupant in the room.
"Who are you?" Lionel's young chief of security demanded, wearing his smart Italian suit. "And how did you get in here?"
"I," Pete stumbled on his words and remembered the uniform he was wearing. "I am the temp night janitor, and I found this man hiding in the closet."
"This man," Randolph walked over and checked out Lionel. "This is Lionel Luthor, and these are his secured quarters. The building cleaning staff is not authorized to be in here, much less a temporary employee."
"I'm sorry," Pete tried to talk his way out of the situation. "I didn't know. The keys worked, so I just came in to do my job."
Randolph looked at the small gash in the hairline of Pete's head. "What happened to you?"
"I must have scared him when I came in, and he hit me with a baseball bat," Pete explained. "What's wrong with him?"
Randolph turned back to Lionel with a concerned look. "Mr. Luthor is not good," he told him. "Ever since his son's death, he has been slowly losing his health, if not a small part of his mind."
"Really," Pete stared down at him stifling a smile. "I didn't think Lionel and Lex were all that close."
"Young Alexander was all the family Mr. Luthor had left in the world, and I guess he just can't handle the loss," Randolph told Pete.
"He seemed fine at the funeral," Pete let out before he realized that he might be placing himself.
Randolph gave him a questioning look. "He was fine then, but the grief seems to have settled in after all these weeks. He just gets worse by the day."
"Is that the reason for all these machines?" Pete asked.
"I'm afraid so," Randolph sighed. "We have all these medical appliances ready just in case, and a full time nurse has been added to the pay roll to check in on him periodically."
"Wow, sad," Pete commented.
"What about you?" Randolph refocused his attention back on Pete. "We should have the nurse look at the wound."
"No," Pete touched his sore lightly. "I'll be okay. I just need to get some cold water on my face. I'll leave you now."
"Very well," Randolph nodded with a half smile. "Make sure you fill out an accident report. But I would consider it a personal favor if you say you hit your head on a door or something. We don't need to let Mr. Luthor's condition get out in public."
"Of course," Pete agreed.
"Tell your supervisor you are going home for the night with pay," he shook Pete's hand. "Just let them know that Mr. Randolph has approved it."
"Okay," Pete walked to the door and took a last look back at Lionel. "I hope you get better, Mr. Luthor."
Randolph watched from the bedroom as Pete walked back through the living room into Lionel's office, collected the shop cart, and left the area. He then walked back into the room and stood over Lionel.
"He's an imposter," Lionel huffed tossing off his blankets. "No temps are ever allowed on this floor, and that is a standing order in all departments."
"I know, Mr. Luthor," Randolph agreed. "But I am not sure if we should peruse this. Since Lex attacked him it may be best for all parties if we just let this one drop."
"But who was he, and why was he here?" Lionel questioned as he set on the edge of the bed.
"My guess would be that he somehow works with that Perry White guy, and they are investigating what might have really happened to Miss Potter," Randolph summarized. "Judging from his reaction, though, I doubt he got the story he was looking for."
"Let's just hope that tomorrow's headline is not stating my name," Lionel said walking out into the living area.
"A headline like that would easily be stopped by you yourself, sir," Randolph assured him.
"Still," Lionel sat on the sofa, "I cannot help thinking that I have seen that young man before."
Randolph looked down at Lionel with a questioning stare.
Lionel sat in deep thought for a moment. "We can't risk anyone finding Lex so long as Morgan Edge is still alive and gunning for him," he said out loud. "Find that young man and keep him from talking. He may be playing the ignorant fool, but I can not take the chance that he might have seen Lex."
"Yes, sir," Randolph nodded and rushed out of the room.
A few seconds later Randolph ran up to the elevator door that had just closed while he was speaking on his cell phone. He pressed the button quickly and the light above the passageway lit up again with a binging sound. The two doors slid open and he saw that the cleaning crew cart was sitting in the middle of the lift, alone.
Taking a quick look around the cart and into any possible hiding places, Randolph let out of grunt of frustration as he realized that Pete had gotten away.
Jumping off the elevator and up the unexplored hall, he spoke annoyed into his phone. "The kid gave me the slip," he spoke quickly. "Seal off the building right now. I want everyone to be on the lookout for a young, African American man wearing a janitor's uniform. He is a high level security risk, and I want him stopped by any means necessary."
He stopped in the dark hall long enough to flip his phone shut and take one last look up the hall. He could not see anything, so he turned around and headed back the way he came.
At the far end of the hall, Pete had found a small inset that he was able to hide in by pressing his body as tightly as he could against the wall. He listened as Randolph's footsteps walked in the other direction. He stood paralyzed and waited until he could decide what to do next.
The blaze from the remains of what had been, until a few hours earlier, the Edge Comedy Club, lit up the night sky over Gotham as Lana Lang and Bruce Wayne pulled up in his VMW. They both stepped out and joined the crowd of on lookers.
"Oh, my God, Bruce," Lana gasped. "What if Chloe is still in there?"
"Then they will get her out," Bruce assured her wrapping his arm around her.
"Look at that place," Lana cried. "They won't send anyone in there. It's a hazard, and I know that the fire department has its rules when there is this much structural damage."
Bruce remained silent as he watched the flames shooting out of the roof.
Lana wiped her eyes and joined in his gaze. "There's only one person I know who would risk running into that building."
Bruce glanced over at her. "Clark?"
Lana nodded her head. "Clark may be a man of many secrets, but everyone knows he would risk life and limb to save his friends."
"He may not be the only one, Lana," Bruce said softly.
Lana turned to him quickly. "Wait, Bruce," she grabbed his arms. "I didn't mean for you to go into that building."
"It's not what I want anymore," He gave her a half grin. "Remember that man I spoke to you about earlier? The one inside of me?"
"Of course," Lana said looking deep into his eyes.
"This is his chance, Lana," Bruce smiled. "It's time for the dark knight to strike."
"No," Lana screamed as he pulled away. "Please don't do this, Bruce."
Removing his black canvas raincoat, Bruce crouched down by the leaking fire hydrant with the hoses attached.
"Bruce," Lana kneeled at his side at he soaked the coat in the water. "Please don't do this. I could not stand the thought of losing you, too."
"I have to do this, Lana," he spoke while working on the jacket. "We both know I would not be able to forgive myself if I didn't try. I've been training for this stuff for years, don't worry."
Lana grasped his wet face in her tender hands. "But I am worried," a tear rolled down her face. "I can't bare the thought of loosing you Bruce because I think I'm falling in love with you."
Bruce stopped short and stared at her for a long silent moment.
"Please," she finally pleaded.
Bruce leaned forward and planted as warm, hard kiss on her moist lips. He reached up his left hand and held the back of her head close to his, and Lana gave of her passion freely. The two of them crouched at a fire hydrant behind the crowd went unnoticed as they embraced their mutual attraction for each other.
Then he pulled away quickly and Bruce gave her one last look. "I'll be back," he whispered softly. "I promise."
Lana nodded pulling her jacket closed tightly. The summer night air became increasing cold as she watched the man she was becoming very affectionate for walk away into the shadows on the side of the building where he hoped to slip in unseen.
The door to the cleaning closet swung open sharply, hitting Lex's foot as Randolph stormed his way into the small enclosure. "It's time for your bed check," he announced coldly.
Randolph's crude joke was stopped abruptly as he noticed the floor was covered with plaster chips and two large, limb-shaped pieces with a trace of blood. He followed the trail leading back to its source. Lex Luthor laid on the floor with his newly uncovered leg and arm that were in the cast. The ordeal must have been excruciating, as he was now barely coherent from the shear pain.
"Not tonight, cue ball," Randolph sighed dejectedly. "Daddy boss man is not going to like this."
Shrugging his shoulders, Randolph reached down picking Lex partially off the floor and began dragging him back to his room.
The room was hot and Smokey, much too much for anyone to survive for long, but somehow Salina Kyle was able to will herself back to consciousness. She raised her head and surveyed the area as the smoke stung at her eyes. All she could tell through the thick smoke and flames was that she had fallen out of the air ducts that went across the ceiling of the Edge, and that she was now trapped and surrounded by the flames that seemed to be covering everything.
She slumped her head down and just wanted to pass out again, but in the corner of her eye, she could see another human form. It was then that Salina remembered that she was not alone, and Chloe Sullivan laid next to her, still out cold.
Salina slid her slender form over to her new friend staying low to the ground and felt for a pulse. "Oh, thank God," she whispered. She then began to push at her friend softly trying to wake her. "Come on, Chloe, girl," she choked on the smoke. "You were the one who wanted to keep stabbing at this 'living' thing."
After a few more pushes and a slap on the face, Salina knew that Chloe was not going to wake up any time soon, so she began to case the room. In a normal day, had she the desire to go on, she could have easily made her way around and over many of the clusters of flames. That day she knew that she was in no shape to carry another person who out weighed her by a good twenty pounds through the obstacle course.
She lowered her head again and began to recite a small prayer she had been taught in her childhood. She had given up on believing in an eternal being watching over her years ago, but she wondered if Chloe believed in such benevolent creators, and so she calmed her own dislike for what she was doing by thinking that her silent prayer was for Chloe and not her. Salina recited the small poem of a prayer over three times before she thought she saw something moving in the distance against the flickers of the flames.
The shadow being drowned in the amber lights and smoke filled perception seemed to be coming closer as Salina watched with great interest. The creature in the night began to take form and a silhouette shape emerged in the bleakness of the room. The shadow was a large, bird-shaped like object. Atop its head were two points on either side that stuck out high above the rest of the form, and the wide frame on each end seemed to be like wings flapping in the wind. The bottom was separated at three points and Salina's mind came to the conclusion that she was about to be taken by the creature of death himself in bat form.
She held her breath until the shadow was just above her, and she looked up with watery eyes from the smoke into the face of Bruce Wayne, who was covered in soot and ashes. He held his damp full-length raincoat out over his head where the collar was turned up, making what Salina thought were ears. He held it far out to his side, giving way for the flapping material on each end with the fashionable cuts at the bottom draping down into points.
"Salina," Bruce yelled over the roar of the flames around them. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she nodded with a bit of shock in her eyes.
"Can you walk?" He questioned with large caring eyes.
"I think so," she nodded again. "But Chloe is hurt and hasn't come to, yet."
"I'll carry her," He wrapped the left side of the coat around her as he bent down to pick up Chloe. "Her shoulder looks dislocated, but I have to move her anyway."
Salina cuddled close to Bruce, holding her side of the coat over herself while he pulled Chloe up and into the fold of his right arm. He began to lead the two young women through the smoke and flames.
Just as they had cleared the area they heard a loud crash and Salina looked back to see where a large center beam for the building, still ablaze with fire, had landed on the very spot that they had been in. She took another glance up as Bruce and wrapped her right arm around his waist all the tighter.
It had only been mere minutes since Randolph had missed seeing him in the hall, but Pete knew that the few people, who were in the building at the late hour, were now looking for him. He had managed to avoid being seen so far, but he knew his luck would not hold out for long. Pete needed to find a place to ditch his uniform and perhaps wearing his own street cloths he had under the jump suite would help him slip away a little easier.
Coming down another of the long corridors, he saw the janitors closet Cleary marked. He took out his master key ring and found the right device to open the door. Slipping in just as a shadow passed by the edge of the hall, Pete took a deep sigh of relief.
He began pulling off the overhauls by unzipping the large opening that ran down the front. As he glanced down, he noticed a trail of broken chock like objects. He followed the trail to two large pieces of the casting that were shaped like an arm and a full length of a leg. Pete could see the speckles of blood that were all over the material and floor.
Crouching down, he picked up a small piece and examined it closely. As he was studying the object in the dim closet light, another darker and more rounded item got his attention in the far corner.
Pete reached across slowly and grasped it. It was slightly heavy and made of wood. He could tell that it had been crated onto a shape.
Holding it up to the light, he could see that it had been badly battered and beaten and some of its forms had been rounded out or crushed, but the shape was still clear. He had found a wooden horse.
Pete's attention was distracted when he heard the door open behind him.
"Well, well," Randolph stood over him. "I knew if I looked hard enough, I would find you."
"I," Pete stuttered. "I was just getting out of my uniform sir."
"That's all find and well," Randolph gave an evil grin. "But there has been a change in our plan. You are not going anywhere, kid."
A lump lodge itself in Pete's throat as he looked back at the horse with a trickle of blood on it. The realization came to him as he thought back to the baseball bat a few minutes earlier.
"Come on kid," Randolph grabbed his arm.
As he was being pulled up, Pete swung the horse around with all his might and aimed it at Randolph's head. The two solid pieces of matter met with a sickening thud, and Pete saw as a gash open up widely over Randolph's right eye.
The security chief let out a loud curse word and looked dimly into the empty space before him. All his movement stopped, and he slumped slowly to the floor.
Pete yanked the last of the work suite off, and picked up the wooden horse again. He didn't realize the significance, but he knew that somehow, this was a huge clue to Lionel's secret.
Taking one last glance down at Randolph's unconscious body and back down the emptied hall, Pete slipped away back into the night.
Lionel Luthor stood over his son who had been placed back in his bed. He watched as the younger man fought to keep his consciousness.
"You have had a very harrowing night, Lex," he commented with a scowl. "If bad enough that you attacked the intruder, but then you risked yourself even further by removing your cast."
Lex moaned something that his father could not understand.
"You need to be taught a lesson son," Lionel continued with his demeaning tone. "I have tried to convince you that you are safer hear than anywhere else on your own, and still you are trying to find new ways to escape me."
Lex was able to open his eye wide enough to look up at his father.
"That's right son," Lionel gave him an evil grin. "Father always knows best. And now that Morgan is apparently one to me and has gone into hiding, you are not safe anywhere but at my side."
"What," Lex grunted. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that it is my job to protect you now and forever," Lionel grinned. "Morgan Edge may being trying to fake his death, but I know he's still out there and if he ever finds out that you are still alive, then he will come looking for you."
"Some one saw me tonight," Lex gasped out. "They will tell."
"Some one?" Lionel questioned. "Didn't you see who you attacked?"
Lex turned his head slightly in a 'no'.
"Oh Lex," Lionel ran his hand over his son's head. "Your phone call must have worked the other day. The man in the closet was your friend Clark."
"Clark," Lex shut his eyes tight.
"Yes, Lex," Lionel lied. "Apparently he came to save you and you attacked him."
"Where," Lex lipped his lips. "Where is he now?"
Lionel leaned down close to Lex's ear. "I have had him taken back to his farm in Smallville. You see Lex, Clark won't be coming for you again. You killed him."
The last statement startled Lex into opening his eyes widely.
"I had his body returned to the farm to make it look like a farming accident," Lionel continued. "With his folks in jail for causing your death, there won't be anyone around to find him for days."
What little of a coherent mind Lex had left, was spinning as Lionel walked to the door.
"I guess," Lionel stopped and reached for the dimmer switch. "I guess the buzzards will lead someone to the body eventually."
Lionel took one look back at his shaken son and closed the door as he left the room.
In the still silence of the complete darkness, Lex began to moan in an inhuman like manner. The moans quickly gave way to groans, which turned to screams and then screeches into the night. Lex screamed as loud as he could and the bloodcurdling sounds of pain echoed down the empty corridors all over the top floor of the Luthor Corps building.
What little hope that Lex had been holding onto that night was lost in the insanity of his plagued mind. He would have rushed for the window and jump out, but as he tried to move, he found that his arms and legs were tightly bound to the bed frame.
Lex was indeed a helpless prisoner of his father once again, and his only escape was through his mind. Screaming as loud as he could through bloody coughs from his previously injured lungs. Lex released what was left of his sanity and drifted into the darkness of his own mind.
Even he was unsure how he did it, but Pete Ross had been able to find an exit through a back alley door. Once on the street, Pete ran as fast as he could, and did not stop until he was several blocks away from the Luthor Corps building and the hoards of security guards that he was sure were looking for him.
Stopping to take a few deep breaths and rest for a moment in the doorway of a closed gift shop, Pete remembered the object that he had tucked safely under his lightweight coat. He pulled out into the light of the street lamp and looked it over again.
Even though the features had been mostly pounded out of the object, he could make out the special shape and size. Holding it up to the streetlight, Pete could not help but think that he had seen this toy horse before, but he just couldn't remember where.
When he heard several rushing footsteps turning down the street a few doors away, Pete remembered that it was not safe there. He tucked the horse away under his coat again check the clear street and continued his run to his car that he had parked several blocks away.
When Bruce and the girls had emerged from the burning club, a paramedic took Chloe from Bruce's arm and rushed her to a waiting ambulance. He released his grip on the jacket and stepped out, allowing the material to fall across Salina's slender form. The once wet jacket was now bone dry and warn with a few scorches from the flames. Two other firemen grabbed them and lead them away from the building that began to give way.
After being moved several feet away, Bruce looked back, and announced to the fireman who was restraining him, "Morgan Edge may still be in there!"
"It's too late," the young male fire fighter returned. "The building is gone. If he wasn't already dead, then the roof collapsing just finished the job."
Bruce stared into his eyes for a moment, and he knew that the young man was right. If anyone was still alive in there, they were not going to get out alive even with his help.
"Bruce," Lana raced to his side. "Oh, thank God you are all okay." She hugged the man with all her might. The fireman released his grip and Bruce returned her embrace. The two began to kiss against the backdrop of the blazing building.
Lana pulled away slightly and looked up at him with a large grin. "Chloe is already starting to revive, and the EMT people are calling you a hero."
Bruce gave her one of his rear smile. "It wasn't me, Lana," he said softly. "Bruce Wayne is no hero."
Lana cuddled her head against his chest. Her forehead became creased with worry, because she knew what he was referring to. Bruce had surrendered himself fully to the dark places within himself that night, and he was enjoying the warmth of the shadows, his new best friend.
Bruce pulled her tightly into his arms again as he watched the building burn. His life had taken a dramatic turn that night. He knew that he still had much to learn, and years more to train him self up to peak performance, but now he knew is destiny. Bruce Wayne would be the mask he wore to the world, but it was the shadow, the darkness and it was the bat that would forever rule his future from that night forward.
'A hero.' He was perhaps; but a force for avenging the wrongs of the world; for sure.
Salina watched from a distance as the world seemed to go on around her, and still no one even noticed her. The medical workers were too busy with Chloe that they did not even approach her even after coming out of the burning building. She simply watched as everyone had someone to take care of him or her, and she herself was alone; again.
Taking one last look at what was to be her future at Morgan's side in the nightclub, Salina stepped away from the rushing fire crews and slipped into an alley across the road. A tear fell from her eyes as she allowed herself a moment to grieve for what could have been and was now lost.
Like the moon in the morning and sun at night, Salina slipped behind the building and disappeared into the day.
The fire chief had asked for Bruce to give him an assessment of what he had seen inside the building. As he was lured away, Lana took the time to make her way over to where Chloe was laying on the hospital gurney inside the ambulance.
She climbed in and looked down at her friend who was in a seated position. "You're looking better," Lana smiled. "The EMT said you had a dislocated shoulder and some smoke inhalation, but that you should be fine."
Chloe reached up with her good hand and removed the oxygen mask. "You'll have to thank your billionaire boyfriend for the save," Chloe responded in a raspy voice. "They tell me that I would have been a fried friend if he hadn't have saved us."
"Yeah," Lana looked across the crowd outside the door at him. "He's a really sweet guy."
"It feels strange being saved by someone other than Clark for a change," Chloe tried to smile. "Where is Clark?"
"I don't know," Lana's face grew serious for a second. "I guess he and Alfred are trapped in traffic somewhere that this fire scene caused. I think he's going to be really surprised with Bruce."
"I know I am," Chloe coughed. "It seems that Clark is not the only guy with a hero complex."
"Yeah," Lana looked down with a big grin. "Its nice to know there's more than one hero."
Chloe allowed her thoughts to drift for a moment and then returned to Lana. "Has anyone seen Morgan Edge?"
"No," Lana replied with a serious tone. "They are thinking he might have been in the building, too, and he would most likely be dead right now."
"He's not dead, Lana," Chloe said as matter of fact. "He's on the run."
"The run?" Lana questioned. "What for?"
A tear rolled down Chloe's cheek as she remembered her ordeal and what she had learned.
Lana placed Chloe's hand in hers. "What is it, Chloe? Did you find something?"
"Yeah," Chloe nodded her head sniffing away the tears. "Lex is really dead, Lana, and Morgan Edge was the one who killed him to get back at Lionel Luthor."
"Oh, my God," Lana gasped.
"After he told us, Morgan locked us in the office when the fire started," Chloe explained. "The whole terrorist group was a set up, and Lex was nothing more than a pawn in a sick game between Morgan and Lionel."
"It's okay, Chloe," Lana leaned her head against her friends. "Whatever reason the two men had, they won't be able to use Lex anymore."
The few tears became a full sob as Chloe cried. "How do I tell Clark that Lex is not going to be found? He's dead."
Lana placed her arm around Chloe's injured shoulder. "It's not like Clark didn't know that this could happen," she said try to be supporting. "I know he had hopes that Lex was being held by the bad guys in this whole mess, but he has to let that hope go. It's over Chloe, the mystery is solved and Lex, is still dead."
TO BE CONTINUED
***Notes***
Wow, not only did I get a lot of reviews this week, but also some really blew me away, more so than normal. I'll let you in on a little secret. I was not concentrating on Pete as much as all of you were, so I actually had to go back and beef up his part a little more in this chapter. I guess sometimes it helps to have people looking over your shoulder from time to time. Thanks for the save guys.
To Suz: Thanks for your kind words again, and a special shout out. I sometimes wonder if I'm going a little over board with some of my twist, but since you guys seem to like it, I guess it's not too bad.
To Brennan: I agree that Bruce would not have open up to Lana so easily like he did, which is why I never allowed him to say the Batman name, however, since my story is not one of those first person points of view, I thought it would be confusing (To me at least) to have Bruce doing all the story telling in his head, so I made Lana the sounding board. I mean let be serious, it Lana hasn't put Clark and a Super Teen together yet, then what's the chances she'll remember what Bruce told her ten years down the road when he becomes the Bat. (Who according to the recent DC lore is only a legend.)
Thanks for the Salina/Selina input. Like I said, I knew I was wrong and I'm sorry. Only a true comic book buff would have gotten the Tony Stark reference. Thanks for noticing.
Thanks for your comments and it means allot to me that you like my work. So you know MitchPell that would explain allot. Thanks again.
To MitchPell: By the way have you met Brennan? =) I was real worried about switching Lionel with Lex. I thought you might all turn on me, but apparently it worked. Like you said it was too early for anyone to find Lex, and what fun would it be if it were someone he wasn't close to. (Hint) Yet as you see here, Pete might hold a large piece of the puzzle.
Lex may not be in any shape to help him self for a while yet, but it doesn't mean his story is over. Yes, his leg is still busted and should have pins and screws as mentioned before. That would be where all the blood came from.
Yes, Salina is Catwoman. She was a prostitute before she became a cat burglar. I don't think she ever met Bruce, Morgan or Clark before hand, but hey, that's what fan fiction is for. It may seem a long time, but it's only been a few hours since Chloe disappeared, and both Bruce and Clark had other things on their mind. Perhaps Lana should have gone back, but oh well.
I would like to post faster, but I need to give poor Christin time to live her own life between Bata readings, and since I have yet to finish chapter 19 as I write this, it's most likely a good thing that I wait. (I will have nineteen finished by next week. It's just all this holiday stuff that is taking up so much of my time. I actually go to work so to have time to myself.)
Thanks for the continued support and apparently talking about me with Brennan.
To Merrie: Thanks for coming back again. I always look forward to hearing form you MitchPell and the rest of you regulars. I'm glad you still like all the twist and turns, and I especially like that you enjoyed Clark and Alfred's talk, which I dedicated to you.
To : Who ever you are, thanks for the kind words. It really means allot that you like the story.
To Starburst: Thanks and I'm writing, I'm writing. =)
To Aino: Thanks for your interest. I hope I can continue to entertain you.
To Angledust: You made my week. I always wonder how many people are reading and not reviewing. (Not that I mind, I do it myself.) I feel great knowing that you have enjoyed from the beginning. (Especially considering how different the story is before and after Lex's 'death'.) I forgive you, ands thanks so much for the high compliment. I try very hard to make these the best that they can be, and it's so rewarding to know that you think so highly of my story.
I have loved comic books for almost as long as I can remember, so I love being able to play in their sand boxes. I also love giving each character something to do, so what better way than trying to mesh the two worlds and come up with a few workable pairs.
I also like Clark being 'not so super'; I like to show the boy and his vulnerabilities. I also have him crying allot which apparently the show thinks he is no longer capable of after the pilot.
And you can gush all you like. I love these long reviews. You should see how my face lights up when I'm having a bad day at work and I check my e-mail to find another review. Let's just say it make things a whole lot better.
Thanks again for reviewing and I look forward to your further comments.
Okay, I was a little long winded this time myself, but I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate each and ever kind word. I said it before, and I'll say it again. It means allot to me. Thanks.
Best Wishes and God Bless
Phaze