by NiteLite
oo0oo
Ever since leaving the outskirts of the city, she'd been driving like a zombie on autopilot. Eyes on the road, but oblivious to all else, including the radio cranked up at full volume. Nearly thirty miles had passed, and all Martha could see was the image of Clark in prison garb, looking so old, ill and helpless.
The shock of recognizing her son in another's body was enough to make her want to shriek uncontrollably, but she managed to hold it all in until their time was up and a guard escorted her away. She barely remembered getting into her car and leaving the prison grounds. Once on the highway, the numbness slowly began wearing off, much the way an injection of Novocaine would, leaving an aching throb in its place.
She cursed as she closed in on a battered truck doddering along several miles below the speed limit. Being forced to slow only fueled the anger simmering inside and she raised her hand to hit the horn.
How on earth could Lionel do such a thing! Only a cold, calculating mind could have pulled off such a twisted act.
And what had she done about it? Absolutely nothing. Talk about being asleep at the wheel. Since when did Clark object to wearing flannel shirts? Let alone calling her "Martha" instead of "Mom"? Up in his loft, he hadn't hugged her like a child seeking reassurance, but an adult wanting something more. Hadn't he? Martha shuddered sharply at the memory and lowered her arm.
"Oh, Clark," she whispered as another tear leaked from the corner of her eye. Where were her maternal instincts when she needed them?
Well, they were screaming at her good and loud now. Louder than the radio she'd kept on to drown out the guilt she felt for not seeing what had been in front of her all along. For failing to protect her child. For leaving him alone in that unspeakable hellhole.
She could hardly imagine what it was like for Clark to be confined among all those hardened criminals. Yet, despite his vulnerable state, Clark's sole overriding worry had been for another. For Lex. And it was that concern that had cemented the certainty that it really was her son seated at the visitor's table.
She brushed the tear from her cheek and forced herself to concentrate on the road. If Clark could stand being trapped inside Lionel's body, so could she. Flicking the radio off, she hit the accelerator and passed the truck. Never mind the speed limit. She had to get home now.
oo0oo
She frowned when she finally pulled into the driveway. Jonathan's truck was nowhere to be seen. As much as she would've liked his help, she didn't have time to look for him. Slamming the car door behind her she quickly trotted into the house. Dealing with Lionel up close and personal would require some backup first. She yanked the hall closet door open and rummaged for the small metal box they'd kept hidden in the corner, inside a carton filled with Clark's old clothes.
She withdrew a rock then put the box back into place and headed for the kitchen. Picking up the phone she began dialing. Still no Jonathan. She considered scribbling him a warning on a notepad, but decided it was too risky. Clark was right; with his speed, Lionel could be anywhere. Frustrated, she forced herself to take a deep breath and closed her fingers around the meteor rock in her hand.
The thought of facing Lionel, in Clark's body with all his powers at his disposal was incredibly daunting, but she had a few advantages on her side, including years of dealing with her son's abilities. Moreover, she knew a thing or two about difficult men, from her own father to Jor-El. Lionel would be no different.
From what Clark had told her at the prison, it wasn't hard figuring out his next move. She'd failed to protect her own child. She wasn't about to let Lionel's be harmed.
oo0oo
Martha eased off the pedal as her car entered the long driveway toward the Luthor manor. It was a minor miracle she had yet to be stopped for speeding. Thankfully, the gates were open, and she pulled her car into the area closest to the side entrance. The one she and Clark used to drop off the weekly deliveries.
Lex was one of their most consistent and loyal customers.
Her throat tightened. For all his confident businessman airs, Lex was still young and more sensitive than he let on. She knew with a mother's heart, how much he missed his own. Lillian's influence was never more visible than when Lex went up against the relentless shark calling itself his father.
And who else but Clark would try to help steer him through that murky upbringing? Despite all their ups and downs, there was an undeniable bond between them. A bond that could practically be called... Martha paused. Now was not the time to go off on a tangent. She braced herself and entered the manor.
The large kitchen was empty. She barely noticed the gleaming countertops and polished pots as she quickly made her way to the door that led to the hallway. When she pushed on it, it hardly moved. Alarmed, she pushed harder. Then gasped. Through the crack she could see a body in a dark suit on the floor. Leaning down, she snaked her arm through the gap and touched the side of the guard's face. He was unconscious but still breathing.
Her heart racing, Martha slowly got up and looked around. There were other ways into the main hall.
The corridor seemed endlessly long as she crept silently toward Lex's office. She'd found yet another guard crumpled on the floor near the front entrance. Lionel was definitely here. Through the stained-glass doors she heard a voice. Clark's voice. She winced inwardly at the ugly tone.
Keep going she told herself and pressed slowly on the door handle.
She held her breath as she eased the door open slightly and froze at the sight of Lionel's cold smirk on Clark's face. Lex was being marched backward toward a desk, his neck in Lionel's straight-armed grip. The callous show of strength was something out of her worst nightmare.
This isn't our son, she reminded herself, careful to stay out of Lionel's line of sight. She slipped inside the room then bit back a cry when he slammed Lex's head onto the desk.
"Go ahead, kill me," she heard Lex gasp.
"All I wanted was the best for you. And you destroyed me," Lionel snarled back.
Lex choked out something, but she couldn't make out the word. But that was hardly important in light of the cold rage she saw in Lionel's eyes. His hand was tightening around Lex's throat. She quickly reached into her pocket and moved forward.
"Gah!" Lionel's pained reaction to the meteor rock was instant and satisfying.
She watched him writhe on the floor, his skin taking on that familiar sickly green cast. Clark had once said to her that it felt as though he was being boiled alive from the inside.
It was only fitting Lionel should experience that for himself.
Hearing a groan, she immediately turned her head to see Lex on floor, stunned and gasping for air. "Lex!"
Aware that even in his weakened state, Lionel was still dangerous, she tightened her grip on the rock, but the sudden brush of air against her skin told her he'd taken the opportunity to disappear.
"Mrs. Kent," Lex wheezed, his eyes shut.
"I'm here, Lex." She slipped the rock back into a pocket and crouched beside him, gently running her hand over his face and neck. The marks on his pale skin showed as brightly as red finger paint.
"How did you know"
"I couldn't find Clark and thought he might be here."
She felt his hand on her wrist. "How much did you see?"
"Enough." She stood up. "I'm going to get you some water. Don't move."
On the side table, she found a bottle of water and opened it. Lex managed to sit up, coughing as he rubbed his throat with his hand. He took the bottle and sipped the water slowly. Seeing him wince, she reached down, undid a few buttons and pushed his collar back. The bruising around his throat looked painful. Worse, Lex had just experienced his best friend choking the life out of him. How could she even begin to explain?
"Lex," she began haltingly, "I'm so sorry about what he did to you."
He put the bottle down and gazed at her for a long moment. For someone who'd nearly had his windpipe crushed, he looked remarkably steady. "He's not Clark."
Martha blinked. "You know?" she finally said, feeling part alarmed and part amazed at the certainty in Lex's voice.
"Yes. I know your son, Mrs. Kent. He's asked me for many things, but this time, when he demanded money..." Lex slowly shook his head. "I know it was my father."
"Do you know how it happened? How their bodies got"
"Switched? No, not yet. But we'll figure out how to get Clark back. I promise."
"I found two of your security guards unconscious. One's by the kitchen door and the other's by the front entrance." She glanced at the phone. "I'd better call an ambulance."
"No. They'll notify the authorities. I don't want the sheriff looking for my father. I don't want to risk them hurting him. Not while he's using Clark's body."
Martha nodded, relieved. "But your men need help."
"I'll have a private doctor look after them." Lex struggled to his feet and leaned heavily against his desk. "What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You could be in danger. My father might go after you, for interfering."
She touched her pocket for reassurance. "Don't worry, I'll keep my eyes open. But I need to let my husband know what's happened."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kent," Lex said softly. "I'm not sure how you did it, but you saved my life."
Underneath his outer calm, she sensed hurt and distress. If anyone needed a mother's comfort, it was Lex. Without thinking, she reached out to him, ignoring his initial resistance, until he relaxed into her hug the way hardened brown sugar softened in a warm oven. But as much as she wanted to stay and make sure he was truly okay, she needed to warn Jonathan.
"I should call him." She broke the hug reluctantly.
Lex's eyes conveyed concern and thanks. "Go ahead. I'm going to check on the guards then call the doctor."
She waited for him to leave the office before picking up the phone and dialing.
oo0oo
Martha broke the speed limit for the third time. The car had barely stopped when she flew out of it and into the house. "Jonathan!"
The front door was open. She swallowed hard and looked around the living room. Shards of glass littered the floor and crunched under her shoes as she moved into the kitchen. The cabinet above the refrigerator was broken and on the floor... No, no, no.
"M-Martha?"
"Oh thank God!" Heedless of the mess, she kneeled beside her husband and put her shaking hands against his face.
He was woozy and battered but alive.
She stroked his cheek gently. Jonathan stared at the broken pieces on the floor before looking up at her with a pained expression. "He's not Clark."
"Shhh. I know. Let's get you cleaned up first and I'll explain."
oo0oo
As usual, Jonathan was an irritable patient. Once he was off the floor, it had taken all her powers of persuasion to keep him from storming out of the house after Lionel.
"Who knows what he'll do to our son. I should go after him."
"You'd never make it to the prison in time. And Clark has a plan," she argued back. "We have to trust him." She dabbed at his face again with a towel, making sure there were no fragments of glass left on his skin.
"And what if it doesn't work?"
"It will," she said, opening the first aid kit. It had to. The alternative was unthinkable.
There was little else they could do but wait and see. Martha continued to tend to Jonathan's cuts until he finally said, "Enough," and got up from his chair to assess the damage to the kitchen. They kept a chunk of meteor rock nearby, just in case.
Dealing with a few phone calls and sweeping up broken glass kept her hands busy and her mind from sinking further into a pool of worry. Jonathan went into the barn to look for tools to fix the shelves. She picked up the clock that had been knocked off the wall and examined it. One of the corners had broken off. While searching along the counter for the missing piece, she felt a slight breeze behind her.
Clark suddenly appeared. "Mom?"
She immediately sensed the change in him, from the tone of his voice to the way he carried himself. It was so obvious now. "Oh Clark," she breathed. "My baby." She set the clock down, pressed her face against his chest and held on tightly.
He hugged her back, the way he always had. "I'm okay, Mom." He gently pried himself loose. "The plan worked."
"And Lionel?"
"Is right back where he belongs."
"Good."
"What about you and Dad?"
"We're both fine."
Clark looked grim as he took in the cabinet doors hanging off their hinges and the broken plates swept into a pile. "Lionel did this, didn't he. What did he want?"
Martha rubbed her arms and leaned against the table. "He was trying to find out about the meteor rock from your dad."
"Why?"
"Because I was forced to use one on him."
Clark flinched. "Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head quickly. "No. Like I said, I'm fine." She hugged herself tighter. "I went to the mansion to check on Lex. And that's when I saw Lionel, in his office. He was choking his own son." She paused, seeing Clark's jaw twitch.
"He was so furious," she continued, "I had to use it. I thought he was going to kill Lex."
Clark clenched and unclenched his fists, looking as if he wanted to shatter something.
"Lex is all right," she added softly. "He's a little banged up, but he'll be okay. And he knew."
"Knew what?"
"That it wasn't you trying to hurt him. Somehow he figured out it was his father."
She caught a fleeting look of wonder in Clark's eyes as he sagged back against the counter.
"Son?"
They raised their heads to see Jonathan holding a toolbox in one hand, looking at them warily.
Clark immediately straightened. "Dad! Are you okay?"
Jonathan's expression relaxed. "I'm fine. Glad you're back." He set the box down and embraced Clark, then gazed over at Martha. "I guess you were right about Clark's plan."
"Yeah," Clark breathed back. "You don't have to worry. Lionel's back in jail. He's not going anywhere." He gestured at the tools on the floor. "Need some help with that?"
"Sure." Jonathan grinned and held out a dustpan.
"Before you do anything, change out of those clothes," Martha ordered. That shirt would always remind her of Lionel and what he tried to do to her family and Lex. She doubted Clark would mind if she got rid of it.
He whooshed up the stairs and returned wearing his usual flannel.
As they continued the clean up, Jonathan told Clark what else Lionel had done. Martha didn't envy all the explaining he'd have to do once he returned to school, especially after the visits she'd received the other day from Chloe and Lana. Both girls had been visibly upset and there had been little she could say in her son's defense.
There was also much to process about the surfacing of yet another Kryptonian artifact. And she was unsettled by Clark's admission that he'd taken the first one from Lex's jet. At least the fears she had about Lionel knowing all about her son's powers were lessened by the news that the man was dying.
She put thoughts about Lionel and Jor-El aside as she continued sweeping. It was better to concentrate on the little things. Tomorrow, Clark would talk to Coach Teague about his place on the football team. While he was at it, he'd hopefully mend fences with Chloe and Lana. Then they could all resume their normal routine.
oo0oo
One look at Clark's face told her how his day at school had gone.
He shuffled slowly into the kitchen and let his backpack slide to the floor with a dull thump, his expression a mixture of sadness and frustration.
She had a plate of warm oatmeal raisin cookies at the ready and held it up in consolation. Clark sighed then reached for one.
"Thanks, Mom," he mumbled after a bite.
"Bad day?"
"Yeah, you could say that again."
She offered him another one and waited until he finished chewing. "How were Lana and Chloe?"
He let out a long, gusty sigh. "Still mad. Chloe thinks I'm on drugs and need therapy. And Lana just stood there and lectured me." He scowled then shook his head. "It's hard when I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to be apologizing for. Wish I knew what Lionel said to them."
Martha set the plate down. She had a disturbingly good idea of what the man might have done and said, but there was no point in upsetting her son further. She held her tongue as he began pacing restlessly. The girls would never understand the bizarre ordeal he had just gone through. No one except for her, Jonathan and...
She folded her arms. "What about Lex? Have you seen him yet?"
He stopped and looked back at her. "Um, no."
"Why not?"
"It's just that after everything he went through yesterday, he probably thinks I'm some kind of monster. He'll never..." His voice trailed off and he stared unhappily at the floor.
Never forgive you? It was obvious Chloe and Lana's reactions had only reinforced his fear that Lex would be equally angry and close-minded. But Lex wasn't like other people, any more than Clark was.
"Lex knows you better than you think. He realizes who the real monster is," she said firmly.
When Clark hesitated, she moved closer. "If you don't believe me, why don't you go talk to him? He may be a little jumpy, but I know he'll be glad to see you." She held up the truck keys and jangled them at him.
She watched her words sink in. Finally, after a few seconds, he tilted his head and gave her a small smile. "All right, I will. Thanks." A gentle peck on her cheek and she watched him walk purposefully out of the kitchen, passing Jonathan at the back door.
"Hey, Dad," he said squeezing past, "I'm borrowing the truck. I'll see you later."
"So, where's he off to?" Jonathan looked over his shoulder as he washed his hands at the sink.
"He's going over to the mansion see Lex."
"Ah." He dried his hands then picked up a cookie. "What about school? How'd that go?"
"Not too well, I'm afraid. Lana and Chloe are still angry with him, and the frustrating part is he can't tell them what really happened. That he wasn't responsible for his actions."
Jonathan nodded sympathetically. "I still have a hard time believing it."
"Tell me about it. I should've realized from the beginning that Clark wasn't acting like himself. Why I didn't pick up on that sooner, I'll never know." She closed her eyes, feeling the guilt creep back in.
"Hey, I dropped the ball, too." She felt her husband's arm squeeze her comfortingly. "But that was a pretty amazing thing you did, going after Lionel by yourself."
She leaned into his solid warmth grateful he was being understanding about the risk she'd taken. "After I saw what he did to Clark, I couldn't let him harm his own son. How could he do that to his own flesh and blood?"
"He's a sick, desperate man."
"Lex deserves better."
She heard Jonathan sigh. "For once, I have to agree."
He squeezed her again then went upstairs.
She picked up the clock she had set aside from yesterday and gently tested the corner she'd glued back together. It seemed sturdy enough; the break was nearly invisible. All it needed was a battery. As she rummaged through a drawer it crossed her mind she should call Lex to let him know that Clark was truly back, but her instincts told her that he would figure it out. Lex seemed to know her son as well as she did. Perhaps better, in some ways. While her husband would find that particular observation alarming, she wasn't so sure it was such a bad thing.
Deep down, she'd always felt there was someone special out there for Clark, someone with whom he could share his life and his secrets. Someone who'd understand the burdens he carried. After all, she and Jonathan wouldn't be around forever. But what she hadn't counted on was the fact that it might not be someone like Lana or Chloe. Neither girl had looked beyond Clark's strange behavior the other day to realize what actually lay beneath the surface.
Only Lex had seen through the deception.
When it came down to it, despite his mistrust, Clark had unswervingly chosen to protect Lex from his father at the prison. She had a suspicion Lex would've done the same for her son.
Certain feelings ran deeper than friendship, no matter how strained things appeared between the two. Clark might not talk about his actions, but she recognized devotion, loyalty and love when she saw them.
She inserted the battery and watched the second hand lurch into motion again. Much the way life kept moving forward, often in directions she never anticipated.
The future was not going to be easy for two very unique, headstrong, stubborn boys. Perhaps someday, they'd find a way to get past all their missteps and doubts to admit what they truly felt for each other.
But until that time, she'd continue to look out for them both.
The End