He should have died.
When the plane crashed down, and the debris had pierced his skin, he should have died from the impact.
It felt as if he had.
The searing pain of his cut flesh haunted him still, and it was almost as if it had never happened when he woke from his unconcious state and pulled the sheet of metal and splinters of glass from his torso. His hands, covered in his own blood, shook from the impossibility of it all as he watched his damaged skin seal its folds together with flecks of electricity. They pulsed across his torso, tracing a pattern across his flesh, and he was unable to tear his gaze from the miracle he was witnessing while his mind tried to process what had happened. Then the hallways of his mind opened, and he remembered everything with a daunting clarity.
"To our new life." he toasted, not receiving a response. Voiced the question, brought about by overwhelming uncertainty... "What's the matter?"
And the answer, which now held more implication than he desired.
"Nothing. Everything's perfect."
Helen....
---
Lex woke from his dream. Sweat-soaked covers clung to his bare skin. The moonlight shone through the window, dancing across the wooden furniture, illuminating supple flesh as Lex's erratic breathing calmed, and his violent clutch on the sheet relaxed. He rose from the bed, taking the sheet with him, tying it round his waist as he stopped to pour himself a drink, and walked to the window. Raising the glass, he closed his eyes as the spicy sweet liquor passed his lips. He shook his head. She was still there, hiding behind his eyelids, haunting him with the wondrous beauty that had enchanted him. He berated himself for ever being so trusting, for being weak enough to fall in love. His father was right; love was a weakness... a weakness that had been used far too well against him. Yet he had let it. He had fallen hook line and sinker for the intelligent doctor, who had tested his emotional attachment to her at every level. And still he loved her, as he recalled the way her hair fell across her face when they made love, the feel of her skin against his own...
Shivering, he finished his drink in one shot, wincing as the liquor burned his throat and warmed his insides. He untied the bed sheet, and let it fall to the floor, stretching as he resolved not to take the risk of returning to bed and reliving the fateful day that was permanently etched into nightmare. He picked up a pair of jogging bottoms from the chair, and slipped them on, poured himself another drink and took a seat at a small desk, flipping open his laptop computer.
---
Adam Pierson sat silently in his newly acquired Metropolis apartment, contemplating the events of the previous week. He had been called to the city by the Watcher's - his true identity had come near to being discovered, so Joe had thought it pertinent that he assign him a case to re- establish the trust of the Head of Department after a mysterious phone call he had received concerning the ancient immortal Methos. When Methos had been told he would be relocated to Metropolis to keep an eye on a newly found Immortal in the nearby town of Smallville, he had been nothing but assertive on his desires not to go, but, with the situation of his identity under threat, he eventually agreed to leave Seacouver, and made plans for residence. Initially, Methos had contemplated setting up a home in Smallville, but deciding that it would draw too much attention to himself, he settled for the very expensive apartment that he now found himself feeling extremely comfortable in.
The furniture was rich and dark. The finest produced Mahogany contrasting and complementing the light cream-coloured walls and suite. Dark wooden floors and decorative rugs just added to the aged appearance of his new home, and Methos felt as if he were back in an older time, when he had been free of the worry of hiding behind false identity, yet capable of the utmost destruction to the point where all he wanted to do was disappear.
He sipped at his wine, the spicy taste dancing across his tongue as his attention was drawn away from his memories and to his current "case." The files had been delivered to him by courier as soon as the identity of the new immortal had been ascertained, but Methos hadn't looked over all of the details thoroughly; as soon as he'd seen his future student's name on the file, he'd resisted, unbelieving. Sighing, he picked up the file and stopped delaying the inevitable. The Immortal's name screamed out at him in bold lettering: "Lex Luthor."
He flicked through the pages of the file, silently cursing while his eyes discovered the truth of Luthor's life; his illegal dealings, his work ethics, his relationship with his father, and his consistent belief of himself being destined for greatness. Unfortunately, Methos feared that such greatness would lead to evil, and as much as he wanted to ignore that fact, he couldn't.
Methos' own past held too much darkness for him to ever receive redemption for the acts of pure evil he had committed, and as much as he wanted to see the ruthlessness in Lex's face as he looked at the pictures in the file, and agree with the hypothesis presented to him by his peers, he found it impossible. In photographs of the young man with his father, Lex fronted as stone cold; something that anyone with an experienced eye would be able to recognise as a façade. In his solitude, though, Lex, while appearing powerful and bold, seemed somehow vulnerable.
Decision made, Methos moved to his computer and pulled up the location records he had on Lex. The only number listed was the business number for the LuthorCorp plant in Smallville, so he picked up his mobile phone and dialled. An answering service clicked on and Methos sighed. He waited for the beep, and then spoke.
"Mr Luthor. my name is Adam Pierson. I think I have some information that you may be interested in, regarding your recent change of status. I'm sure you are aware of what it is that I am referring to. I would prefer to discuss this in person. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."
He hung up the phone. His message was short and to the point, and he hoped that the young man had the sense, or at the very least enough curiosity, to contact him. As far as Methos was concerned, the quicker Lex Luthor understood what had been happening to him for the past week, the better it would be. For everyone...
When the plane crashed down, and the debris had pierced his skin, he should have died from the impact.
It felt as if he had.
The searing pain of his cut flesh haunted him still, and it was almost as if it had never happened when he woke from his unconcious state and pulled the sheet of metal and splinters of glass from his torso. His hands, covered in his own blood, shook from the impossibility of it all as he watched his damaged skin seal its folds together with flecks of electricity. They pulsed across his torso, tracing a pattern across his flesh, and he was unable to tear his gaze from the miracle he was witnessing while his mind tried to process what had happened. Then the hallways of his mind opened, and he remembered everything with a daunting clarity.
"To our new life." he toasted, not receiving a response. Voiced the question, brought about by overwhelming uncertainty... "What's the matter?"
And the answer, which now held more implication than he desired.
"Nothing. Everything's perfect."
Helen....
---
Lex woke from his dream. Sweat-soaked covers clung to his bare skin. The moonlight shone through the window, dancing across the wooden furniture, illuminating supple flesh as Lex's erratic breathing calmed, and his violent clutch on the sheet relaxed. He rose from the bed, taking the sheet with him, tying it round his waist as he stopped to pour himself a drink, and walked to the window. Raising the glass, he closed his eyes as the spicy sweet liquor passed his lips. He shook his head. She was still there, hiding behind his eyelids, haunting him with the wondrous beauty that had enchanted him. He berated himself for ever being so trusting, for being weak enough to fall in love. His father was right; love was a weakness... a weakness that had been used far too well against him. Yet he had let it. He had fallen hook line and sinker for the intelligent doctor, who had tested his emotional attachment to her at every level. And still he loved her, as he recalled the way her hair fell across her face when they made love, the feel of her skin against his own...
Shivering, he finished his drink in one shot, wincing as the liquor burned his throat and warmed his insides. He untied the bed sheet, and let it fall to the floor, stretching as he resolved not to take the risk of returning to bed and reliving the fateful day that was permanently etched into nightmare. He picked up a pair of jogging bottoms from the chair, and slipped them on, poured himself another drink and took a seat at a small desk, flipping open his laptop computer.
---
Adam Pierson sat silently in his newly acquired Metropolis apartment, contemplating the events of the previous week. He had been called to the city by the Watcher's - his true identity had come near to being discovered, so Joe had thought it pertinent that he assign him a case to re- establish the trust of the Head of Department after a mysterious phone call he had received concerning the ancient immortal Methos. When Methos had been told he would be relocated to Metropolis to keep an eye on a newly found Immortal in the nearby town of Smallville, he had been nothing but assertive on his desires not to go, but, with the situation of his identity under threat, he eventually agreed to leave Seacouver, and made plans for residence. Initially, Methos had contemplated setting up a home in Smallville, but deciding that it would draw too much attention to himself, he settled for the very expensive apartment that he now found himself feeling extremely comfortable in.
The furniture was rich and dark. The finest produced Mahogany contrasting and complementing the light cream-coloured walls and suite. Dark wooden floors and decorative rugs just added to the aged appearance of his new home, and Methos felt as if he were back in an older time, when he had been free of the worry of hiding behind false identity, yet capable of the utmost destruction to the point where all he wanted to do was disappear.
He sipped at his wine, the spicy taste dancing across his tongue as his attention was drawn away from his memories and to his current "case." The files had been delivered to him by courier as soon as the identity of the new immortal had been ascertained, but Methos hadn't looked over all of the details thoroughly; as soon as he'd seen his future student's name on the file, he'd resisted, unbelieving. Sighing, he picked up the file and stopped delaying the inevitable. The Immortal's name screamed out at him in bold lettering: "Lex Luthor."
He flicked through the pages of the file, silently cursing while his eyes discovered the truth of Luthor's life; his illegal dealings, his work ethics, his relationship with his father, and his consistent belief of himself being destined for greatness. Unfortunately, Methos feared that such greatness would lead to evil, and as much as he wanted to ignore that fact, he couldn't.
Methos' own past held too much darkness for him to ever receive redemption for the acts of pure evil he had committed, and as much as he wanted to see the ruthlessness in Lex's face as he looked at the pictures in the file, and agree with the hypothesis presented to him by his peers, he found it impossible. In photographs of the young man with his father, Lex fronted as stone cold; something that anyone with an experienced eye would be able to recognise as a façade. In his solitude, though, Lex, while appearing powerful and bold, seemed somehow vulnerable.
Decision made, Methos moved to his computer and pulled up the location records he had on Lex. The only number listed was the business number for the LuthorCorp plant in Smallville, so he picked up his mobile phone and dialled. An answering service clicked on and Methos sighed. He waited for the beep, and then spoke.
"Mr Luthor. my name is Adam Pierson. I think I have some information that you may be interested in, regarding your recent change of status. I'm sure you are aware of what it is that I am referring to. I would prefer to discuss this in person. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."
He hung up the phone. His message was short and to the point, and he hoped that the young man had the sense, or at the very least enough curiosity, to contact him. As far as Methos was concerned, the quicker Lex Luthor understood what had been happening to him for the past week, the better it would be. For everyone...