* Decided to add more people's POV, to make it more interesting*
Part Four
JONATHAN
"I wonder how Clark's doing?" Martha asks, pouring me a cup of coffee.
"Probably wondering the city with Chloe," I reply dryly, taking a sip.
Martha gives me one of her looks and I shake my head.
"I'd better be getting on. A farm can't run itself," I say, getting up and kissing her on the forehead.
"Ok," she answers quietly.
"Oh Martha," she turns to look at me, "Don't wait up for me. Got some business with the Taylors."
"Anything I should know about?" she inquires, rinsing off a cup.
"Nothing much. He just wants to buy some cattle off us," I say, reaching for my car keys.
"Ok. I'll save some dinner for you then," she smiles warmly and goes back to her washing up.
I walk to the truck and think what a great day it is.
***
I pull into our driveway and it's way past 11, Martha's probably asleep. As I get out of the pick-up, I look up and see the stars sprinkled across eternity. I watch them and think of Clark, the son that fell from the stars.
Then for no reason, I feel a wave of panic hit me and I have to see it, check it, know it's safe.
I walk quickly to our storm cellar and unlock it with the keys I carry with me all the time. I peer into the darkness and walk down cautiously.
Then I see it, the metal glinting in the moonlight. My son's cradle sitting here safe from prying eyes and minds.
"Hey Art.oomph,"
There's a loud crash and Abe Robinson falls down into our cellar, drunk.
"Where'd you go, Abe?" Art's drunken voice echoes into the night.
"I'm.here.," Abe says, getting up and trying to steady himself.
I cringe at the sight of Abe and Art, who has just stumbled into the cellar as well.
"Hey, it's Jonathan Kent," Art says smiling.
"Come on boys, you'd better leave," I say forcefully, pushing Abe towards the exit.
"Hey, don't you go pushing me now," Abe answers, swatting my hand away. The stench of whisky is heavy on his breath.
"Look here, Abe. It's one of them alien things," Art calls, pointing to Clark's spaceship.
I suddenly realise what I've let them see and curse myself for being so, absentminded. I quickly try and cover it up but it's too late. Both drunks have now become engrossed in the object.
"It's pretty," Abe says, running a hand over it.
I quickly pull him back, whereby he pushes me off.
"Look, you need to leave now," I say loudly.
They both look at me, grinning like fools.
"I ain't ready to leave yet," Abe shouts, staggering slightly.
I begin to feel my anger building and grab Abe by the cuff, pulling him to the exit. As we reach the stairs, I feel Art's hands on my shoulders and suddenly I'm on the floor.
"Git your hands off him," Art yells.
"You need to leave now!" I scream back, getting up.
"And what you gonna do about it, if we don't?" Art says, poking me in the chest.
I can't hold back anymore and I throw a punch, which makes contact on Art's left cheek. Art stumbles back but recovers quickly, swinging back at me, but he misses. His judgement greatly impaired by the sweet poison he's drunk.
I begin to aim another punch at Art's face when I feel Abe grab my arms and hold me back.
Two against one were never my favourite odds.
"Had enough?" Art shouts, swaggering from side to side.
I gaze him and sneer, "Get out."
Art's face contorts into anger and he launches another attack on my stomach, with Abe holding me securely.
He stops and looks at the damage's he caused, "You know, Kent. That alien thing is awfully nice, could earn me a good penny...,"
He never got to finish his sentence because with my last ounce of strength, I fly at him, breaking out of Abe's grip, my fists raining down on him. Art tries to feebly ward me off but without Abe to hold me, he's got no such luck.
"Abe, help me! You son of a bitch, help me!" he screams loudly.
I keep pummelling Art harder and harder.
But then I feel it, the short, sharp pain on my head and then. black fills my eyes.
As I awaken from my short sleep, I feel that my left eye is swollen and that my bones are aching. I then see the image of my two attackers clumsily dragging my son's cradle up the cellar stairs then. darkness as the door slams shut and my eyes fall closed.
LEX
There are mysteries and then there are secrets in the world. The difference is that one is to be solved and one is to be kept. But I've found in this life, that when solving one, you always have to break the other.
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson calls.
"Yes?" I answer, looking at my supposed head of security.
"We found two trespassers on your grounds."
"Really? And they are where now?" I say, cutting him off.
"We've sent them off to the sheriff."
"Good. Was that all? Or do you enjoy wasting my time with petty incidents?" I say sharply.
I should have had that man fired a long time ago, but daddy dearest did insist on having this 180 pound gorilla watch out for me or rather watch over.
"Well, we found something else with them. You'd better come and see," he says, moving shiftily from one foot to another.
Is it me or does he seem excited? It must be me.
I nod and follow the oaf downstairs into another part of the Luthor mansion. I see Jameson's steps quicken as we approach our destination and I begin to wonder whether maybe, this is something worth being interested in.
I enter the room and see it, the smooth metallic curves, the haunting colour of something that isn't of this earth.
Finally something that might bring me some answers.
"And this is what the two were holding?" I ask.
"They were trying to drag it to one of their houses, I think," Jameson replies.
"I want them questioned. Find out anything and everything. I want to know what this is and who's it is," I say loudly.
Jameson indicates to two of his men and they quickly walk out without another word.
I approach the craft with slight caution and inspect it. The outside seems so, hard and cold but whether or not the inside is the same, is left to be seen.
"I want the chopper brought around," I command.
Jameson looks at me puzzled but then quickly goes off to fulfil my orders.
"We're going to Metropolis," I mutter, placing a hand on the spaceship, my spaceship.
***
"You have a visitor, Mr. Luthor," Ben announces to me.
I just flew into Metropolis 2 days ago and already a visitor, aren't I popular, I think to myself.
"Lex," Trevor McDonald says, walking into my office.
"Trevor. How can I help you today?" I answer.
Although I can guess, he wants what every reporter wants, a story.
"A chat. Maybe about what's been happening to the young Lex, who was mysteriously shipped off to Littleville?" he replies.
His subtlety is on par with a pink elephant.
"Smallville and you know my policy, no interviews," I answer coldly.
"Sorry. Look Lex, we've played this game before and we know how it ends.,"
"With you leaving," I snap back.
He laughs and shakes his head, "Lex, Lex, so quick. But I'm afraid I'm quicker this time."
I look at him puzzled but then gain my composure and offer him a challenging look.
"I know, Lex."
I remain silent.
"About your little, what shall we say, project?" he smirks, he knows he has me.
"Project?" I answer, trying not to give the game away.
"Don't play dumb with me, I deserve more than that," Trevor says loudly, placing his hands on my desk.
You deserve what all reporters deserve, to be shot, I think to myself. But I would never say out loud, got to keep up appearances.
"I don't know what you mean. So, if you don't mind, I have things to do," I say, getting a pen out.
"Fine, I'll play. Take a look at these," he shoves some photographs over to me.
I pick them up and they reveal what I always hate seeing, defeat, my defeat specifically.
I think over my options and get up to face him, "what do you want?"
"Just an exclusive interview with Lex Luthor, that's all," he replies, cocking his head to the side, inspecting my reaction.
"And then?"
"Then your little alien hunting expedition is safe."
"Fine," I say through gritted teeth. I hate having to give in to this trash.
"The Daily Planet," you know where my office is. Say in an hour's time?" Trevor asks. He doesn't bother to hear my answer because he knows it'll be a yes.
I watch him leave, his smarmy grin plastered in my head. He may have won the battle but the war's not over yet.
"Jameson," I say loudly into my mobile.
"Yes," he answers back.
"I want all the people that know about my project to be questioned. I want to know how that bastard of a reporter found out,"
"But.," he stutters.
"Jameson, don't make me repeat myself."
"Very well," he replies and hangs up.
I slam my fist on the table and begin to think up what to do next. Preferably something which involves Trevor and a machete.
***
I walk out of Trevor's office, wiping the filth off my suit. I make my way to the elevator and press down.
I gave a good performance, charming and polite, what everyone expects but doesn't want to read. They crave my past conquests, drugs, trouble, women, police. That's the Lex Luthor they want to read about.
As I enter the lobby, I look around and see a familiar figure. I walk over and take in the girl in front of me, Chloe Sullivan, pretty, inquisitive, determined and Clark's best friend. I'd nearly forgotten she's working here as an intern.
Now that's an interesting coincidence but not an altogether bad one.
"Chloe?"
She turns around and I greet her with a smile.
"Hi Lex," she says quietly.
"Waiting for someone?" I ask.
"I was.," she replies. I watch her look around the place.
"Well, I was just going to go for lunch. Care to join me?" I say calmly.
I watch her quickly mull it over in her head before saying yes.
"I'll just get the car," I say, walking off.
Then I feel the soft vibrating of my phone and I answer it, to hear Jameson's voice.
"Good news, I hope," I say.
"Yes. We've found out where the spaceship was found," Jameson replies quickly.
My heart pauses threatening to stop altogether.
"Go on," I can barely contain my excitement.
"It's from the Kent's storm cellar," Jameson says.
My head reels with the information.
Yet again, my life leads me back to the mystery that is Clark Kent. But this time, I have a feeling that this mystery is about to be broken.
Part Four
JONATHAN
"I wonder how Clark's doing?" Martha asks, pouring me a cup of coffee.
"Probably wondering the city with Chloe," I reply dryly, taking a sip.
Martha gives me one of her looks and I shake my head.
"I'd better be getting on. A farm can't run itself," I say, getting up and kissing her on the forehead.
"Ok," she answers quietly.
"Oh Martha," she turns to look at me, "Don't wait up for me. Got some business with the Taylors."
"Anything I should know about?" she inquires, rinsing off a cup.
"Nothing much. He just wants to buy some cattle off us," I say, reaching for my car keys.
"Ok. I'll save some dinner for you then," she smiles warmly and goes back to her washing up.
I walk to the truck and think what a great day it is.
***
I pull into our driveway and it's way past 11, Martha's probably asleep. As I get out of the pick-up, I look up and see the stars sprinkled across eternity. I watch them and think of Clark, the son that fell from the stars.
Then for no reason, I feel a wave of panic hit me and I have to see it, check it, know it's safe.
I walk quickly to our storm cellar and unlock it with the keys I carry with me all the time. I peer into the darkness and walk down cautiously.
Then I see it, the metal glinting in the moonlight. My son's cradle sitting here safe from prying eyes and minds.
"Hey Art.oomph,"
There's a loud crash and Abe Robinson falls down into our cellar, drunk.
"Where'd you go, Abe?" Art's drunken voice echoes into the night.
"I'm.here.," Abe says, getting up and trying to steady himself.
I cringe at the sight of Abe and Art, who has just stumbled into the cellar as well.
"Hey, it's Jonathan Kent," Art says smiling.
"Come on boys, you'd better leave," I say forcefully, pushing Abe towards the exit.
"Hey, don't you go pushing me now," Abe answers, swatting my hand away. The stench of whisky is heavy on his breath.
"Look here, Abe. It's one of them alien things," Art calls, pointing to Clark's spaceship.
I suddenly realise what I've let them see and curse myself for being so, absentminded. I quickly try and cover it up but it's too late. Both drunks have now become engrossed in the object.
"It's pretty," Abe says, running a hand over it.
I quickly pull him back, whereby he pushes me off.
"Look, you need to leave now," I say loudly.
They both look at me, grinning like fools.
"I ain't ready to leave yet," Abe shouts, staggering slightly.
I begin to feel my anger building and grab Abe by the cuff, pulling him to the exit. As we reach the stairs, I feel Art's hands on my shoulders and suddenly I'm on the floor.
"Git your hands off him," Art yells.
"You need to leave now!" I scream back, getting up.
"And what you gonna do about it, if we don't?" Art says, poking me in the chest.
I can't hold back anymore and I throw a punch, which makes contact on Art's left cheek. Art stumbles back but recovers quickly, swinging back at me, but he misses. His judgement greatly impaired by the sweet poison he's drunk.
I begin to aim another punch at Art's face when I feel Abe grab my arms and hold me back.
Two against one were never my favourite odds.
"Had enough?" Art shouts, swaggering from side to side.
I gaze him and sneer, "Get out."
Art's face contorts into anger and he launches another attack on my stomach, with Abe holding me securely.
He stops and looks at the damage's he caused, "You know, Kent. That alien thing is awfully nice, could earn me a good penny...,"
He never got to finish his sentence because with my last ounce of strength, I fly at him, breaking out of Abe's grip, my fists raining down on him. Art tries to feebly ward me off but without Abe to hold me, he's got no such luck.
"Abe, help me! You son of a bitch, help me!" he screams loudly.
I keep pummelling Art harder and harder.
But then I feel it, the short, sharp pain on my head and then. black fills my eyes.
As I awaken from my short sleep, I feel that my left eye is swollen and that my bones are aching. I then see the image of my two attackers clumsily dragging my son's cradle up the cellar stairs then. darkness as the door slams shut and my eyes fall closed.
LEX
There are mysteries and then there are secrets in the world. The difference is that one is to be solved and one is to be kept. But I've found in this life, that when solving one, you always have to break the other.
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson calls.
"Yes?" I answer, looking at my supposed head of security.
"We found two trespassers on your grounds."
"Really? And they are where now?" I say, cutting him off.
"We've sent them off to the sheriff."
"Good. Was that all? Or do you enjoy wasting my time with petty incidents?" I say sharply.
I should have had that man fired a long time ago, but daddy dearest did insist on having this 180 pound gorilla watch out for me or rather watch over.
"Well, we found something else with them. You'd better come and see," he says, moving shiftily from one foot to another.
Is it me or does he seem excited? It must be me.
I nod and follow the oaf downstairs into another part of the Luthor mansion. I see Jameson's steps quicken as we approach our destination and I begin to wonder whether maybe, this is something worth being interested in.
I enter the room and see it, the smooth metallic curves, the haunting colour of something that isn't of this earth.
Finally something that might bring me some answers.
"And this is what the two were holding?" I ask.
"They were trying to drag it to one of their houses, I think," Jameson replies.
"I want them questioned. Find out anything and everything. I want to know what this is and who's it is," I say loudly.
Jameson indicates to two of his men and they quickly walk out without another word.
I approach the craft with slight caution and inspect it. The outside seems so, hard and cold but whether or not the inside is the same, is left to be seen.
"I want the chopper brought around," I command.
Jameson looks at me puzzled but then quickly goes off to fulfil my orders.
"We're going to Metropolis," I mutter, placing a hand on the spaceship, my spaceship.
***
"You have a visitor, Mr. Luthor," Ben announces to me.
I just flew into Metropolis 2 days ago and already a visitor, aren't I popular, I think to myself.
"Lex," Trevor McDonald says, walking into my office.
"Trevor. How can I help you today?" I answer.
Although I can guess, he wants what every reporter wants, a story.
"A chat. Maybe about what's been happening to the young Lex, who was mysteriously shipped off to Littleville?" he replies.
His subtlety is on par with a pink elephant.
"Smallville and you know my policy, no interviews," I answer coldly.
"Sorry. Look Lex, we've played this game before and we know how it ends.,"
"With you leaving," I snap back.
He laughs and shakes his head, "Lex, Lex, so quick. But I'm afraid I'm quicker this time."
I look at him puzzled but then gain my composure and offer him a challenging look.
"I know, Lex."
I remain silent.
"About your little, what shall we say, project?" he smirks, he knows he has me.
"Project?" I answer, trying not to give the game away.
"Don't play dumb with me, I deserve more than that," Trevor says loudly, placing his hands on my desk.
You deserve what all reporters deserve, to be shot, I think to myself. But I would never say out loud, got to keep up appearances.
"I don't know what you mean. So, if you don't mind, I have things to do," I say, getting a pen out.
"Fine, I'll play. Take a look at these," he shoves some photographs over to me.
I pick them up and they reveal what I always hate seeing, defeat, my defeat specifically.
I think over my options and get up to face him, "what do you want?"
"Just an exclusive interview with Lex Luthor, that's all," he replies, cocking his head to the side, inspecting my reaction.
"And then?"
"Then your little alien hunting expedition is safe."
"Fine," I say through gritted teeth. I hate having to give in to this trash.
"The Daily Planet," you know where my office is. Say in an hour's time?" Trevor asks. He doesn't bother to hear my answer because he knows it'll be a yes.
I watch him leave, his smarmy grin plastered in my head. He may have won the battle but the war's not over yet.
"Jameson," I say loudly into my mobile.
"Yes," he answers back.
"I want all the people that know about my project to be questioned. I want to know how that bastard of a reporter found out,"
"But.," he stutters.
"Jameson, don't make me repeat myself."
"Very well," he replies and hangs up.
I slam my fist on the table and begin to think up what to do next. Preferably something which involves Trevor and a machete.
***
I walk out of Trevor's office, wiping the filth off my suit. I make my way to the elevator and press down.
I gave a good performance, charming and polite, what everyone expects but doesn't want to read. They crave my past conquests, drugs, trouble, women, police. That's the Lex Luthor they want to read about.
As I enter the lobby, I look around and see a familiar figure. I walk over and take in the girl in front of me, Chloe Sullivan, pretty, inquisitive, determined and Clark's best friend. I'd nearly forgotten she's working here as an intern.
Now that's an interesting coincidence but not an altogether bad one.
"Chloe?"
She turns around and I greet her with a smile.
"Hi Lex," she says quietly.
"Waiting for someone?" I ask.
"I was.," she replies. I watch her look around the place.
"Well, I was just going to go for lunch. Care to join me?" I say calmly.
I watch her quickly mull it over in her head before saying yes.
"I'll just get the car," I say, walking off.
Then I feel the soft vibrating of my phone and I answer it, to hear Jameson's voice.
"Good news, I hope," I say.
"Yes. We've found out where the spaceship was found," Jameson replies quickly.
My heart pauses threatening to stop altogether.
"Go on," I can barely contain my excitement.
"It's from the Kent's storm cellar," Jameson says.
My head reels with the information.
Yet again, my life leads me back to the mystery that is Clark Kent. But this time, I have a feeling that this mystery is about to be broken.