Disclaimer : You think I own them? I think you need mental help. Really if I did, would I be
posting here? That would be a no, they are not mine! And don't sue me! I'm not making ANY money
off of this.
A/N: I wrote this some time ago yet did not feel like posting it until now. I've always loved the interaction between Lionel and
Lex. That is all that could get mt through watching Clark and Lana drool over one another. I'm not sure if I'm going to post
another chapter. As always please review, it makes my day!
As he lay there, the redness in his cheek just beginning to show, the memories of that night--the pain, the hurt--came
rushing back to him. Lex did not know what to do. He began to stand, but the pain was too great. His chest, feeling as
though it was crushed under a dozen bricks, would not allow him the air he needed in order to stand. He looked as though
he had been through a war, and not on the winning side. His once powder blue shirt was now hanging off him in pieces, a
mess of blood covering it. His pants looked more like shorts that a three-year-old had made.
All this to say nothing of the blood that was now flowing out of him, the loss of which was causing him to fall in and out of
consciousness.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
As the sun begun to shine, a man emerged from the side doorway of the club to find Lex's body in the alley, severely beaten.
Without even thinking, he ran over to Lex. The pulse was weak but there. He let out the breath he was holding, and as fast as
his fingers would allow in his state of shock, he began to dial 911.
"911 emergency, this is Karen, how may I assist you?" came the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Um...yes... I ah, I...I need help! I just found a man outside of my club. He has been beaten, there is blood everywhere."
"All right, stay calm. Do you know if he is still alive?" Karen asked with as much calmness as she would allow herself.
God, did she hate clubs. So many calls each night. People get drunk and beat up over a girlfriend or something and the next
morning, she gets all the calls.
iWhy the hell don't I just get a job I don't despise?i she thought to herself.
"Yes, he is, but I don't believe he will be for much longer," he panted. He had managed this club for years, but the man lying
on the ground beneath him, the reason behind his current phone call, was not only a friend but his boss.
"All right, I'm sending an ambulance now. It won't be long until they arrive to assess his condition. Tell me if you can find a
wallet. That way I can call the victim's family and inform them."
"I don't need to find a wallet, I know him." How could he tell her?
"Well, I need to know this person's name, and given that you claim to know him, it would be a lot faster for both of
us if you just inform me of his identity."
iOkay, now she's just pushy./i "All right, his...his name is Lex."
iGreat, not even a last name./i "Sir, I understand that you meet a lot of junkies and that you many not learn--"
He cut her off. This was going to end. "Luthor." iThat should work,/i he thought.
"WHAT?!?!" Confusion and fear clouded Karen's head. Why did she have to be so pissy to a friend of a Luthor?
"You heard me! Now where is that ambulance?" Once someone was informed, there was no need for the kindness that
he had before been dishing out like free food at a food store.
0o0o0o00o0o0o
"Yes, thank you. I'll be right over." Lionel slammed the phone down. It had been a long week, even for him. He was not
in a stable emotional state as it was, and the idea of having to fix another of Lex's "mistakes" was the last priority on his list.
But when you're the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation and you only have one son, a son that will be taking over your
business, you must set aside emotion and think of the best way to face the press.
As Lionel walked the halls of Metropolis General heading to the ICU, he looked at all the people in the rooms, craving a fix,
only being held back by the restraints that tied them to their beds.
This was nothing new to Lionel, however. Lex had been here many times before, way too many times. It had lessened over
the past three years after his adolescence, yet every time he walked down the halls he could feel the memories rushing back.
The cries, the screams, the fights.
Had it been any one else, Lionel would never have done this much; yet Lex was still his son, still blood. He knew his son
thought he hated him, but what Lex would never--no, could never--know was how much his father loved him.
Ever since his wife had died, Lionel had grown farther and farther apart from Lex. They had never been that close,
but the death of his wife, the woman who was Lex's mother, had impacted both of them hard. Lionel saw him in that room.
Half conscious, IVs in each of his thin arms, a black eye, a gash on his forehead and three more small cuts, one by his lip and
another next to his eye. He was very pale. He stood over his son's bed; he knew not what to do, what to say. Having come
so many times before, he expected to know what to do. Yet somehow, this was different.
posting here? That would be a no, they are not mine! And don't sue me! I'm not making ANY money
off of this.
A/N: I wrote this some time ago yet did not feel like posting it until now. I've always loved the interaction between Lionel and
Lex. That is all that could get mt through watching Clark and Lana drool over one another. I'm not sure if I'm going to post
another chapter. As always please review, it makes my day!
As he lay there, the redness in his cheek just beginning to show, the memories of that night--the pain, the hurt--came
rushing back to him. Lex did not know what to do. He began to stand, but the pain was too great. His chest, feeling as
though it was crushed under a dozen bricks, would not allow him the air he needed in order to stand. He looked as though
he had been through a war, and not on the winning side. His once powder blue shirt was now hanging off him in pieces, a
mess of blood covering it. His pants looked more like shorts that a three-year-old had made.
All this to say nothing of the blood that was now flowing out of him, the loss of which was causing him to fall in and out of
consciousness.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
As the sun begun to shine, a man emerged from the side doorway of the club to find Lex's body in the alley, severely beaten.
Without even thinking, he ran over to Lex. The pulse was weak but there. He let out the breath he was holding, and as fast as
his fingers would allow in his state of shock, he began to dial 911.
"911 emergency, this is Karen, how may I assist you?" came the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Um...yes... I ah, I...I need help! I just found a man outside of my club. He has been beaten, there is blood everywhere."
"All right, stay calm. Do you know if he is still alive?" Karen asked with as much calmness as she would allow herself.
God, did she hate clubs. So many calls each night. People get drunk and beat up over a girlfriend or something and the next
morning, she gets all the calls.
iWhy the hell don't I just get a job I don't despise?i she thought to herself.
"Yes, he is, but I don't believe he will be for much longer," he panted. He had managed this club for years, but the man lying
on the ground beneath him, the reason behind his current phone call, was not only a friend but his boss.
"All right, I'm sending an ambulance now. It won't be long until they arrive to assess his condition. Tell me if you can find a
wallet. That way I can call the victim's family and inform them."
"I don't need to find a wallet, I know him." How could he tell her?
"Well, I need to know this person's name, and given that you claim to know him, it would be a lot faster for both of
us if you just inform me of his identity."
iOkay, now she's just pushy./i "All right, his...his name is Lex."
iGreat, not even a last name./i "Sir, I understand that you meet a lot of junkies and that you many not learn--"
He cut her off. This was going to end. "Luthor." iThat should work,/i he thought.
"WHAT?!?!" Confusion and fear clouded Karen's head. Why did she have to be so pissy to a friend of a Luthor?
"You heard me! Now where is that ambulance?" Once someone was informed, there was no need for the kindness that
he had before been dishing out like free food at a food store.
0o0o0o00o0o0o
"Yes, thank you. I'll be right over." Lionel slammed the phone down. It had been a long week, even for him. He was not
in a stable emotional state as it was, and the idea of having to fix another of Lex's "mistakes" was the last priority on his list.
But when you're the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation and you only have one son, a son that will be taking over your
business, you must set aside emotion and think of the best way to face the press.
As Lionel walked the halls of Metropolis General heading to the ICU, he looked at all the people in the rooms, craving a fix,
only being held back by the restraints that tied them to their beds.
This was nothing new to Lionel, however. Lex had been here many times before, way too many times. It had lessened over
the past three years after his adolescence, yet every time he walked down the halls he could feel the memories rushing back.
The cries, the screams, the fights.
Had it been any one else, Lionel would never have done this much; yet Lex was still his son, still blood. He knew his son
thought he hated him, but what Lex would never--no, could never--know was how much his father loved him.
Ever since his wife had died, Lionel had grown farther and farther apart from Lex. They had never been that close,
but the death of his wife, the woman who was Lex's mother, had impacted both of them hard. Lionel saw him in that room.
Half conscious, IVs in each of his thin arms, a black eye, a gash on his forehead and three more small cuts, one by his lip and
another next to his eye. He was very pale. He stood over his son's bed; he knew not what to do, what to say. Having come
so many times before, he expected to know what to do. Yet somehow, this was different.