White clouds of miasma rolled around in the sky of Smallville, the sun sitting gently in the atmosphere while it's bright glow glistened down on the barn of the Kent farm where Jonathan Kent stood, holding a vial of red liquid in his fingers with a meteor rock in his other hand. As his eyes continued to be glued to the thick fluid in the glass, a eerie green radiance escaped the rock the closer it got to the vial, causing the farmer to sigh glumly and regretfully while turning his head around and looking up at the teenage boy who was standing up in his loft. With his arms leaning against the railing, he waited for the man to reply, and as he watched his chest exhale air, he immediately knew that he didn't even need an answer.

"It's your blood." Jonathan told him, bringing his sight back to his hands where he held the vial tight in his grip and placed the still glowing meteor rock back in its lead case where he shut it closed and turned around to see his son now walking down the stairs of the roof space above him. Throwing his hands up some, Clark sighed and shook his head while he moved his feet down the flight of steps when he saw that the simple rock could not hurt him as it sat in the place where it belonged.

"Do you think Lionel knows?" He asked, staring at his dad for an answer as Jonathan grabbed the metal case that was next to him in his hands and brought his arm up that had the clear glass vial in it to show Clark as he finished walking down the stairs. While the father walked towards the other end of the room, the sun beamed down on the farm and entered through the barn doors, showing that summer time was still here and causing a thin line of sweat to form on their foreheads.

"Helen told me she never labeled it before somebody stole it from her office." Jonathan informed him, ripping open the toolbox on the table he was now next to as he looked in front of him at the wood wall that supported the roof of the shed he was in. Arching his arm back, he held the vial tight in his hands, feeling like he was about to smash it with the anger he had in his body from what fate was doing to him. Possibly the most powerful man in the world might actually know his son's secret, something he had been trying to keep for over seventeen years, and if he did know that the boy was different, then hell was going to let lose.

"Why would Lionel want my blood?" Clark inquired, placing his hands on his hips as the sudden sound of glass smashing against the barrier filled his ears, causing him to snap his head over to the sound to see his father with his arm swinging down to his side and blood dripping down the wood of the barn.

"It doesn't matter now." Jonathan declared, throwing the metal case that used to have the vial in it in the toolbox and slamming it shut in fury. He didn't know what he was angry about. His son running away and not taking responsibility for his actions, or the fact that his life could come tumbling down in a mille-second if Lionel knew the teenager's covert. Looking at him a little confused at what he just did, Clark quickly looked behind him once more at the wall, then back at his father, who was beginning to walk away from the sight and causing him to do the same thing with his hands falling down to his side.

"I'm starting to wonder what he really knows about me." He said, unexpectedly seeing his father stop in his tracks and turn around, exhaling lightly and placing his hand on his son's shoulder, staring him in the eyes and ignoring what he saw. Behind the brave, courageous shield he had on was a side of the boy he never remembered seeing. A weak, vulnerable child wanting to curl up in a ball and cry his eyes out, while waiting for his worst nightmare to come true. And the second he saw that, he immediately blocked it out of his mind, never to think about it again.

"Clark," Exhaling loudly and bowing his head for a second, he gulped loudly and then darted his eyebrows up, gazing into the greenish blue eyes that were in front of him as he spoke with a fake, shrewd tone. "We've managed to stay one step ahead of Lionel Luthor so far, why don't you just…focus on the people close to home, okay?" Jonathan told him, nodding his head and taking his hand of his son's shoulder while walking out of the barn, feeling better that he had dropped the subject that he didn't want to talk about. He felt better about something he shouldn't feel good about. He ignored the fear he saw in his son.

As Clark stood silently with a stressful expression, he took to heart what his father had said. He still needed to talk to his friends and try to make up with them for what he had done. And he knew just who to go to first.

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Early evening time roamed around Metropolis, the busy city getting ready for the night time that was coming while creating a darkness in the clouds in the sky. Down in a large building were two men standing quietly as one of them waited for the other to finish their task. Pouring thick yellow and red liquid into a glass was Lionel Luthor, who smiled as he handed it over to his friend, which just caused this man to dart his eyebrows down and bring the clear cup to his eyes to query at what it actually was.

"I like scotch. What is this?" Morgan Edge asked, lowering it from his eyes as Lionel chuckled, shaking his head some while pouring himself some of the drink, afterwards instantly bringing it up in the air and grinning the smile that would always make chills crawl up peoples spin. The beam had wickedness written all over it, something that most people did not enjoy seeing when their life finally came together and everything was happy again.

"It's our old special--a suicide." Lionel answered, watching his old-time-friend nod his head and also bring his glass up, clinking it against the others as the two toasted to ancient companionship. Taking a sip of out his, the rich man turned around from the man as he swallowed down the viscous fluid that ran down his throat and entered his system.

"I hope your tastes haven't changed." Lionel alleged, placing the glass down on the table in front of him as he exhaled the taste of the liquor from his mouth. Still holding this glass in his hands, Morgan shook his head and sucked in his lips before sighing and walking around the room, avoiding eye contact with his long time friend for no reason at all.

"Nothing ever changes, Lionel. Not even when you dress it up in a designer suit or a penthouse office." He reminded him, hearing him mumble in a hum while nodding his head as he turned around to face him, his eyes looking directly at him and telling him even if he didn't know it that the conversation was going to turn into something he never would expect. It was something he would always do. Invite someone over, talk about the pleasant things for a while, and then drop the bomb on them very easily in a causal way. In other words, he was carrying on a Luthor tradition.

"Yeah, it's sad the same thing can't be said about friendship." Lionel enlightened him despondently, seeing Morgan nod his head and pop his lips silently. Obviously, the man did not know where the conversation was going, and that heated him up. Grabbing a light brown file from the table that also had his glass on it, he extended his arm out to his companion with a leer that he only held when he had something against someone.

"I kind of expected you had an inside contact, but I have to hand it to you, very creative." Looking at him confused for a second, Morgan took the file and opened it up, chuckling lightly when he saw a picture of him talking to Helen Bryce, who was now Helen Luthor and no longer the widow of Lex. Sighing and about to wave it off, he listened to the voice of his wealthy comrade fill his ears as he continued to stare at the photo that was taken.

"Buying off my daughter-in-law. That's even low for you, Morgan." Lionel admitted, sitting down in the chair behind him as he placed his arms on the armrest of the leather seat, staring at his friend, who chuckled again and shrugged callously.

"Oh, well…" Morgan said with sigh, watching Lionel nod his head at his reply as he leaned forward in the chair and placed his hands on his knees so he could rest his chin on his hands and rub it with an inquired expression.

"All right, all right, let me guess, let me guess. The idea was to steal the vial and send it back to me at a health mark-up, right?" Lionel asked, smiling slightly when he knew what the answer was going to be. That vial of blood was like a treasure to him. He knew that his friend knew that too. He also knew that his friend was a mob boss, so that was immediately what he would do. Sitting down also, Morgan licked his lips and hesitated for a second before turning his head over to Lionel and darting one of his eyebrows up with a sneer.

"And what if I said no?" Shooting his eyebrows up in confusion, Lionel felt his mouth open up a little so the saliva on his tongue could go dry and cause him to feel desiccation while he sat in unnoticeable shock. At first he thought the man was joking, a tease he was just pulling on him as he waited for the 'yes, that's what I was going to do' to come out of his mouth. However, when the minuet was over, he saw that in his friend's appearance he was being absolutely serious.

Stumbling mutely at first, he tried to find the right comeback to those words, and before the seconds were over, he did. "Then I would speculate on where this is going." Lionel informed him, sounding like he didn't even overcome the stagger that was still lingering in his body as he looked deeply into his eyes, in spite of the significant search for the gag he was playing on him. He couldn't have stolen the blood he held so preciously because he wanted it himself. That vial held the rest of his future. It couldn't be true. But when the gray-haired man slipped on a smile that he felt anger to, he knew it was true.

"Where is this going Morgan?" He mandated, wanting to seem confuse and not knowing what was going on, but instead, the rage that was shooting through his veins stopped that from even coming out in a slight tone. Licking his lips, Morgan shifted positions after he placed his glass down on the table next to Lionel's, exhaling and popping his lips loudly while looking outside at the darkness that was conquering the sun. It was only six thirty and already it was dark. Subsequently the weather wasn't the only thing that was surprising tonight.

"Maybe I had my own intentions to why I…embezzled that vial Lionel. And if I did…" Getting up from the seat and stuffing his hands in his pockets, he headed towards the door that was on the left side of the room, taking one hand out to grab the doorknob as he twisted it with a jerk.

"The only person who is going to know about it is me." Morgan told him, about to open the door when he heard the sound of the man getting up from his seat and walking over to him with a slight run, knowing that a phone call to him to find out what was going on wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't leaving that room without an explanation to what he was saying.

"You understand I can charge you with breaking and entering in a moments noticed, don't you Morgan?" Lionel asked him, wondering if he actually knew that since he did break into his office. Turning around to be only mere inches away from his friend, he simply nodded his head, smiling while doing so and getting the rich man even more confused. First, he started saying stuff without even a hint of what he was trying to tell him, and now, he was making it seem like he was crazy by what he was doing.

"Yes." He replied plainly, opening the door since his hand was still on the knob as he felt the cool air from the hallway brush against his back. "But there's nothing against me if I don't even have the vial now, is there?" Morgan simpered when he saw Lionel's reaction, not helping the small chuckle that came out of his mouth. Truth was, he didn't have the vial, and he couldn't give a damn either. He had all the information he needed to do what he needed to do. Turning around and taking one step out of the room, he suddenly felt a hand grabbed his shoulder and spin him back around where he face his friend who long, blackish hair and a slight bead a foot away from him so it didn't seem like he was harassing the man.

"Morgan, where is the blood?" Lionel demanded, feeling Morgan grab his hand and take it off his shoulder, dusting off his black suit jacket afterwards as silence echoed in their ears, his delay to talk allowing Lionel to take a second to catch his breath and not panic. It also gave Morgan the chance to laugh in his mind at the fear he was putting in the rich man's stomach. Licking his lips again, he tilted his head to the side and took a step back inconspicuous, looking at the ground for a second before bringing his eyes up and changing his look from knowing it all, to making it seem like he wanted Lionel to know what he knew.

"What if I told you that the purpose of even having that vial in the first place is useless because the being the person the blood belongs to is dead…or will soon be?" He asked deliberately, both stared into each other's eyes while Lionel looked for the answer he longed for. Was he trying to say that he not only knew who the blood belonged to, but that he was going to throw away all the money he could have and all the fame he could endure by killing that person? Slipping on a grin, he took another step back and sniffed slightly, waving his hand to some extent while Lionel continued to stand in disbelief.

"Have a nice day Lionel. Don't be a stranger." Morgan said, turning around and walking out of the room with a body full of glee and a vice beam planted on his face. In a matter of hours, his plan was going to all come together. And no one could stop him…no one.

To be Continued…