Title: I Died Just a Little
Chapter Completed: January 25, 2004
Lex had made it a short day at the office. In fact he left a short time after Chloe and settled into his penthouse. A tumbler of aged scotch and an imported leather couch were the only company he was seeking. But Lucas, as with his usual behaviour, didn't agree with this.
"Hey brother," he announced himself loudly, getting only a sneer, "Tough day?" The brother sat on the couch's arm, watching the older Luthor.
Another glare was given as reply.
"This about Anna?" a wickedly smug grin twisted his face.
The received a reaction from Lex, who turned to look directly at his annoyance. He locked his jaw again, clenching it again, "I have no idea what you're going on about." He finished the amber liquid then rose to fill the glass again.
"Oh you know," Lucas followed him, "the woman from the news report, and Dad's files; Anna Clarkson."
Lex turned sharply, his eyes blazing, "Files?"
"I thought that would get your attention," the younger Luthor snatched the glass and drank, like a novice of cheap liquor.
"What files Lucas?" he repeated.
"Dad's." turn about was far play, "The personal ones from his office." On the direction the elder brother turned toward the space, a room that housed the relics of Lionel Luthor. Lucas continued, "He had a whole bunch, all different people. All from Smallville: Clark Kent, Chloe Sullivan, Martha and Jonathan Kent."
"I have them," Lucas's smile still smug as he replaced the glass to the bar.
"Give them to me," Lex demanded.
"It made for very interesting reading," he turned to face his brother, ignoring the demand.
A twitched appeared on the smooth, strong face.
"How much do you think it'll take for her to sleep with me? Or is she just for Luthor use?"
Lex snapped at this. He lunged at his brother, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and forcing his back to the wall, "Don't you ever say that again. Don't even say her name. If I ever catch you spewing that again…" He almost growled, throwing the other man to the floor.
As Lucas hit the floor he smirked, pleased with himself, "she's the one isn't she?" he wasn't waiting Lex to reply, by the way his back tightened and relaxed he knew he was right, "She's that little velvet box in your desk and that stone angel at the mansion."
"No," Lex gripped the bar's edge and after a deep sigh released it, "The angel is our child."
When to turned to Lucas his face was shrouded and broken. An image of a broken and exposed man. It was this image that shook him, surprising him completely.
"You…you had a child?" Lucas pushed himself up off the floor, watching his brother.
"Not exactly, Anna miscarried," the broken man dropped into a chair, the past playing out on his face, "That's when she left." He was avoiding the full, tabloid worthy story.
Lucas was by all accounts an arrogant asshole, but never anticipated the reaction he was receiving and was lost on how to proceed. Any kind of 'I'm sorry' would seem like false sympathy, and to the one saying them, feel like it.
"Why didn't you just go after her?" he slipped back into full Luthor style, skipping the emotion.
"Why does everyone ask me that?" Lex muttered to himself and continuing on his self-discussion he replied, "because I was afraid she didn't want me to." The fear of failure and rejection was integrated into the Luthor value system. The revelation hit him, "and out father used that."
Lucas wasn't sure what that ment, and really didn't care since his mind game wasn't fan anymore, "Since when have you been afraid or anything? Really Lex, I'm ashamed of you." It was always strange how Lucas managed to sound so much like Lionel since he was never raised by the tyrant.
"You don't understand Lucas," his voice was tired as he rubbed a hand over his bald-head.
"You love her, what the hell's to understand?!" he shrugged simply. For a man who spent all his free time pursuing various sexual conquests he hit the 'love nail' on the head, clearly. "Why bother making it complicated, everything is already complicated."
The brooding millionaire glared at him, "Just what is in that file?"
Lucas stared back, as if considering whether or not to share that information, "Lots of things." His smirk was mischievous; "Letters, a deed, checks and a stack of cancelled ones." The deadly Lex glare told him to be serious.
"I want to see it," he rose from the chair, slipping into a business role.
"Figured," Lucas shrugged, going for his saddlebag. After rustling around, he pulled out a thick brown folder to hand over to his brother. "What's the deal with her anyway?" he looked over his shoulder.
Lex began flipping through the folder; "Dr. Clarkson had stolen five million from the company, when he worked in LuthorCorp's researched division. Claimed he was making a miracle, major medical research," he held up the document that proved that. "The good doctor even had Anna convinced the cure was for a mystery disease that she had – the great protector that he was he saved her, " he scoffed, "But all he made was a pretty placebo. And instead of giving up his false research he gave up his daughter." The anger tinged his voice.
"Give new meaning to paying in trade," Lucas remarked, getting an annoyed grunt for his observation.
"This checks go all the way up to…"
"the day he was killed," Lucas gave a pointed look at his brother. The accusation that Lex had in fact been behind the bullet that murdered Lionel went unspoken but was still there.
"And she stopped cashing them year ago," Lex began musing, "Why would he keep sending them?" He couldn't see his father as generous or hopeful, not one to pass along money.
"Why was he even paying her?" Lucas reached for another page from the file. It was a strange photograph of her, surveillance footage possibly. But it was clear the subject didn't know they were being photographed.
"He was amused by her," Lex's voice was low. He had found several more pictures of her, including one marking her graduation and various transcript reports of the girl's career. He dropped heavily into the chair again, various emotions playing on his face. His father had seen every milestone in her life, but he hadn't.
"He was obviously interested, " his brother continued talking, "There's a whole paper trail of her life – like a scrapbook. Did he ever pay this much attention to us?" The boy seemed bitter, looking up at his brother.
He was still engrossed by the folder. One image particularly had enticed him. Lex stared at the glossy reflection of Anna; her face peaceful as her body lay curled up in sleep. An odd addition to the documents of the file. But he could hear his father justify the image: protecting an investment, to know one's enemy. Anything to avoid admitting his twisted obsession that his collection told of.
Lex knotted his brow, so many things were falling into new places but the picture still wasn't clear. At least he didn't see it clearly, not yet. And maybe never.
"So…why was he paying her?" Lucas tossed himself onto the couch, tossing the pictures on to the marble table's top. The game of 'who done it' was growing thin.
"Because I made him," Lex's eyes closed heavily at the weight of the strange, cryptic message.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Anna leaned against the railing of the small balcony that was attached to the small hotel room. The ominous chain hung from her fingers like holding the last strand of a dreamed future.
A slight ruffle behind her made her open her eyes. "I think you're getting sloppy," she spoke into the darkness.
"Didn't want to sneak up on you this time."
"hmm," she didn't bother turning around, she knew it was the red, blue and yellow superhero. No one else could just appear this many floors up.
He took a step closer anyway, regarding her with a strange curiosity and concern, "I wanted to apologise for the other night." It was hard to sound like a superhero and make apologies, but Anna always managed to make Clark feel like a teenager. Awkward and self-conscious. "And about Clark. –."
"Don't," she cut him off. It would be nice to have them separate people, not having the one speak for the other, "Clark and I will talk ourselves, unless," she turned to him now, "that's why you're here. Because Clark is worried."
He was taken aback by seeing her so closely, the red, sad eyes and cold gaze. "No, not because of Clark…I was concerned. I saw who came to visit you yesterday."
The humourless laugh escaped her again as she turned back to the railing. The vastness of the city made her feel even worse, even more lost. "Do you ever wish for destiny?" her musings weren't totally directed at the man behind her, but the audience made her feel better. "So no matter what, how much you screw up, you still end up with where you're ment to. You still end up with who you love." A sad sigh came from her as she leaned harder on the metal rail.
The irony of their situation wasn't lost on Clark. He always wished to escape his destiny while she wished to be trapped by one.
"Do you think Lex is your destiny?" he found himself posing the question, not in the way Superman would but how Clark would – as a friend.
"It can't feel like this and not be," she turned to him again, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. "I love him and it haunts me," she held out her hand, cradling the chain like an injured bird.
He felt his heartbreak. He was once friends with Lex and Anna and knew the way that he felt for her. Saw the way he broke for her, in the way he does.
"You really love him," he said it only to confirm it for himself. He had hoped, for Anna's sake, that the feeling had passed but it seemed that they were all under the same destiny.
He took hold of the small gold links from her hand, surprised by how easily she released it, almost weakly. Clark came to a decision, like Superman had, to accept the destiny. It was all for some reason that went beyond this one man with the double life. And with Anna's chain he was going to make that point.
Laying the delicate chain in his palm, the broken links centred, he stared at it. The intense glare was characteristic of the Kypton's son alone. From his steel eyes came powerful heat – melting the guided metal to refasten the links. The chain was repaired.
Anna watched with wide eyes, surprised with the rare power and gentle care that the hero displayed.
He handed back the prized procession, "I'm not a jeweller,' he offered with a shrug almost sheepishly.
"No I…" she was speechless as she reached out to touch it gingerly, the idea of it being repaired so easily touching her deeply. "Thank you," she choked out, staring up at him, but unable to take the jewellery back in her own hand. "You look at me like you've hurt me or something," she observed, studying his gaze with her own. "Something so familiar about you," she reached her hand out from the offered chain to his cheek, intending to touch this strange creature of a man.
He quickly dodged her intensity. "Here," he moved behind her, sweeping back her wavy locks to replace the chain around her neck where it belonged. To the casual observer the action could look sensual, but in reality it was a solemn promise. Clark had given up on his friendship with Lex long ago, but promised to make one last peace offering to their relationship. He still felt like he owed it to Anna. To make up for the fall he allowed her take to cover his own fear.
