Summary: Lex contemplates his unhappy past and uncertain future when he is taken hostage in an act of revenge against the Luthors.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the lovely characters featured in Smallville—unfortunately!
I also do not own/have not written any of the lyrics or quotes which may appear as credited within this story; intended usage is merely to complement narrative and thematic elements of my original work.
A/N: This takes place somewhere in Season 1 (not very important to the story, just some minor details).
X: Some Kind of Face
The windy darkness of the dawn enveloped Martha Kent as she emerged from the farmhouse. Quiet stars still flickered through the tops of the trees, but slowly the sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon. As she picked up a pail and began heading towards the barn, the morning's stillness was suddenly and irrevocably shattered.
"Help!"
Martha turned around, bewildered.
"Help me! Please, God—help me . . ."
Martha stared in utter disbelief as Lex's flailing figure came rushing out of the frozen fields, directly towards her.
"Lex . . ." came her imperceptible whisper.
Approaching fast, Lex was staggering wildly, his one leg obviously injured and a look of sheer panic on his face. Martha gaped in horror at how bruised and broken he was—she could hardly believe he was still standing, let alone running. Through her stupor, she managed to remain in place just long enough to catch him as he barreled into her arms. Clinging to her desperately, Lex began to sink to the ground, effectively pulling her down with him as he went.
"Help me, Mrs. Kent," he choked between rasping breaths. "They're gonna kill me, please, they're gonna kill me."
Martha lifted her head in alarm to see if Lex was indeed being pursued and wrapped her arms around him. Scanning the snow-covered landscape, nobody was in sight. Feeling Lex's lean frame shudder uncontrollably against her, she rubbed firm hands across his back.
"I've got you, Lex," she assured him. "It's OK, honey, I've got you—you're safe now, you're safe . . ."
"Help me," Lex continued to gasp softly from his coiled position, his heart bounding against his ribs. "Don't leave me, don't let them get me."
It was then that Clark threw open the front door, having heard the yells from inside. He froze as his eyes fell to his mother holding Lex on the ground. Jonathan was right behind him, and together the two looked at the scene before them, speechless.
Seemingly oblivious to anything outside of Martha's embrace, Lex had buried his face over the crook of her shoulder. Martha looked over at Clark and Jonathan helplessly as she ran her hand across the back of Lex's head.
"Call an ambulance," she said to Jonathan, who had already turned back into the house. "Clark, go get a blanket or something; he's in shock."
Clark whirled back into the house to retrieve it, his emotions oscillating between relief and terror.
Afraid of Lex passing out on her, Martha spoke gently to him as they waited. "Lex, you've been so strong this whole time—I just need you to stay awake for a little bit longer, OK? It's all right, you're gonna be fine now; help is on its way . . ."
»»««
After Lex had been admitted to Smallville Medical and the doctors were examining him, the Kents sat, silent and exhausted, in the waiting room. When one of the doctors finally approached, they all rose.
"How is he, is he gonna be all right?" Clark asked.
"Yes, he's going to be fine," the doctor answered. "He is definitely weak from lack of food and water, but slowly that will begin to improve. From the little I actually got out of him, I can hardly believe that he's not worse off, in terms of infections or anything like that. He's got a significant amount of bruising, a cracked rib, and some serious damage to that left leg, but nothing that shouldn't heal eventually."
A collective sigh went around, and Jonathan made the rather surprising comment, "Well, that's good to hear."
"Can we see him?" asked Clark.
"No, I think it's best he get some rest for now. I'll keep you updated on his condition, though, if you want to stick around."
"Thank you, Doctor," said Martha, and the man nodded and left.
Clark turned to his parents. "Look, you guys can go if you want. I think I'll hang out here for a little while, see how he's doing."
"It's all right, Son," said Jonathan. "We'll stay a while too."
»»««
Lex was more than happy to talk to the Kents when he finally woke up (even though he knew none of them could probably tell one way or the other, seeing as he was so drowsy with medication). After exchanging odd words of thanks and gratitude, the Kents left him to get some rest. The next visitor to appear in Lex's doorway, hours later, was not so welcome.
"Lex."
Grudgingly, Lex turned his head to face the serpentine voice. The last time he had heard it was over a cheap radio's airwaves, pledging a steadfastness that was never there to begin with.
"I'm not sure to what sickening extent you're actually rewarding yourself with this visit," Lex began, "but you can save any hot air you may have brought with you; the heat works amazingly well in this joint."
Lionel chuckled heartily at the juvenile quip. "Ahh, my boy—I'm glad to find you exactly as I left you."
"Exactly as you left me," Lex echoed, keenly aware of the embedded accusation his father would not catch.
"It is a testament to your strength as a Luthor," continued Lionel. "You were tested by fire and managed to emerge the same man, only stronger."
"Is that what they're calling it these days . . . Oh, that's right, 'tortured,' 'tested by fire'—so many euphemisms now, it's hard to keep up."
The smile faded from Lionel's face, and he regarded his son soberly. "Lex, you can't believe how relieved I am that nothing worse happened to you."
Lex could have laughed but managed to keep his amusement in check, producing what was, ostensibly, the most natural-looking and handsome of grins. "You're right, Dad, I can't. God knows what you would have done, right? I mean you've never been able to live without me before, how would you ever console yourself. Not to mention, of course, what a publicity nightmare."
Lionel's eyes narrowed as if pained, but Lex knew better—it was more a reflection of anger and of having hit the right nerve.
"I'm not sure that's fair, Lex," he said quietly.
"Well, you didn't exactly follow through with 'everything in your power' to find me, now did you?" Lex shook his head as if sadly astonished, though in reality he wasn't at all. "And you dare to stand over my hospital bed and tell me what is and isn't fair . . . so appropriate."
"Lex, you have shown me that you possess both the drive and the ability to overcome almost unimaginable adversity. Surely this means something to you?" Lionel glanced down briefly before continuing, "I know I haven't always been there for you in the past—"
"Yes, well the past is usually a good indicator of the future," Lex remarked wryly.
"Not always."
Lex met his father's gaze with scrutinizing eyes. "If this experience has taught me anything, Dad, it's that our relationship will always follow that rule."
"Lex, I know you're upset. You've been through a terrible ordeal, and it has understandably left you traumatized. Now I know it may take a while, but I just want you to rest assured that you will get through this. And I will be there to help you."
Resisting the urge to say one of many things, Lex looked to the ceiling. "Get out, Dad," he said finally. "Just do me a favor and get the hell out of here."
"Lex, I—"
"Get out," Lex whispered exasperatedly, turning his face to the window.
Lionel stood there for a moment, then finally elected to comply with his son's wishes, turning his back on him.
»»««
Being monitored at the hospital was far from Lex's idea of restful relaxation, so he was thrilled when the doctors, all of whom were impressed with his speedy recovery, released him earlier than expected. Before heading back to the mansion, though, Lex's first stop was the Kent Farm.
Clark greeted his friend as he entered the barn, but soon noticed with a familiar pang of guilt the way in which Lex's eyes were subtly yet pensively tracing his surroundings from the beams to the floor.
Unaware of this reflex, Lex spoke genially. "Look, I really can't thank you all enough for what you did for me," he told Clark. "I just said the same thing to your parents, but you can reiterate it for me when I leave. Make me look good, you know."
Clark's smile was sheepish. "Lex, you did the hardest part. I'm just glad you were able to find your way back here. It's really unbelievable, you know, when you think about it."
"It is, isn't it?" Lex shook his head in wonder. "I picked a good house to roll up at, in any event. I know how efficient you Kents are when it comes to rescuing people."
Clark laughed. "Yeah, well I don't know about that one."
"All right, well I guess I should be going," Lex said at last. "I'll definitely see you later this week at some point."
"OK, Lex. Take care."
Lex walked outside and passed Martha, who was chipping away at some ice on the driveway.
"Bye, Mrs. Kent."
"Oh, bye, Lex!"
Lex gave a meek smile. He couldn't help but feel strange seeing her again, thinking back to that dramatic morning in which he had finally reached safety. Though the details were vague, his memory of the incident was wholly unflattering, and Lex found himself mortified just thinking about it. He decided he had to broach the subject, at least to save some kind of face.
"Mrs. Kent?" he said, drawing closer to her. "I want you to know that I sincerely appreciate—I mean, I know it was difficult to . . ."
Seeing the ordinarily articulate youth struggle for words, Martha smiled ruefully. "Lex, we're all just glad you made it home safe," she said.
The comment struck Lex with an unexpected wave of emotion. Maybe it was her genuine concern, or maybe it was the sadness of knowing that this was not his home, nor would it ever be.
Feeling the beginnings of tears rise to his eyes, Lex was not about to let them fall. He had, after all, been holding them back this entire time—there was no reason he shouldn't be able to now. More importantly, though, if he started crying now, Lex had no idea how he'd ever stop.
Eying Lex's profile intently, Martha frowned. "Lex?"
Lex's lips formed a tight smile as he shook his head slowly from side to side, not willing to face her.
"Lex, look at me."
It took a moment or two, but Lex finally relented and turned, the movement sending a heavy tear spilling instantly down his cheek. At Martha's visible reaction, Lex felt his heart swell with relief just as it lurched in compulsory shame. Any lingering hopes there might have been for a dignified exit quickly evaporated as he gave a short, pitiful sniff and wrapped his hand over his mouth, feebly trying to contain the hot tears that were sliding down his contorting features.
"Lex," Martha breathed as she opened her arms to him, waiting for the figure now wracked with sobs to enter them. Lex fell into her embrace with such abandon that Martha's own eyes welled up to think when the last time could have been that someone was there to hold him like this.
"Sssh," she soothed, running her hands across the shoulders hitching in misery. Though he was naturally taller and stronger than herself, Martha was struck with how fragile Lex felt in her arms—as though he might break into pieces if she hugged him too tightly.
They stood like that for some time, after which Lex finally withdrew. Wiping his nose with the back of a trembling hand, he nodded and gave a meager smile. There were no words to be spoken. By the time Lex pulled away from the driveway, the winter sun had sunk cold into the trees.
END 10/11
A winter's day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window, to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow
I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need for friendship; friendship causes pain
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain
I am a rock
I am an island
Don't talk of love
Well, I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died
If I'd never loved, I never would have cried
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock
I am an island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries
~ simon & garfunkel, "i am a rock"