Lex Luthor, he's DC's property. As is the LexCorp Tower, the Daily Planet, Morgan Edge, Tim Drake, Superman, and the city of Metropolis. Allen O'Neill, he's mine.

Rubicon

"The greatest evil is not...done in concentration camps and labor camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice."

-C.S. Lewis


The day I left for college, as I was ready to set out—leave one world behind and enter another—my father stopped me short of the front door. I turned around to see him, and he held out his close-fisted hand to me.

"Here. This is yours."

"What is it?" I asked.

My father uncurled his fingers. In the concavity of his palm was a wadded ball of cash. I couldn't see the different types of bills, but there were a lot ofFranklins. I looked up at my father through a narrow, bemused glare.

"It's…three thousand dollars."

"No. Dad, I—"

"I. Insist."

My brow furled in confusion.

"I want you to take this money," my father said unsteadily. "And don't ever come back."

That was how it began.

"Three thousand dollars?"

"Yeah."

"That must be a sizable extraction from your father's paycheck, Allen."

"Yeah. It sure is, Lex."

The first place I went, before checking into the dorms at the University of Metropolis , was the LexTower. In the intervening time—approximately seven weeks—between Lex's offer for me to come live him and the day classes started at the University, I had been going to see Lex less frequently. For no apparent reason, his eerily penultimate late-night visit to offer me another home sort of shocked me away from him for a long time.

I finally worked up the nerve to drive into Metropolis and talk to him. Surprisingly, he welcomed me back with aplomb—warmly, as if nothing had happened.

Of course, since I had refused his all-too generous offer, things had changed. Or so I suspected. There were, obviously, no physical indications of change. But I had spent enough time around Lex to come to appreciate and notice his…intricacies. The way he conducted himself told me was proof of that.

But things had changed. Or so I told myself.

"Allen."

I shocked myself back to reality, hastily replying, "What—oh…I'm sorry Lex."

"That's alright. People daydream…things happen. And you try to roll with it."

"Yeah," I replied pensively.

Lex smirked, reclined in his chair and steepled his fingers.

"What are you doing, Allen?"

"You ask that every time I come here, and every time I give you the same answer."

"True. But it's never stopped me from asking."

"No," I muttered.

"Right," he said darkly. Then, rising from his chair, Lex turned to the window and clasped his hands together behind his back.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, looking around his frame at the amber-hued cityscape.

"The future," he said effortlessly.

"Future…" I repeated confoundedly.

"Yes," he said, turning his head back to me slightly. Abruptly, he changed subjects.

"So when do you move in? To the University."

"Today," I said lightly.

Lex turned around to face me, and shifted his hands down into his pockets.

"I wanted to stop by here first." There was no reason behind the visit really. Part of me simply enjoyed the pleasure of Lex's company. The other part felt an almost-unnecessary desire for attention, which Lex supplied so aptly.

"Do you need help moving in?"

"What?"

"It's no problem if you do. I can have Hope give you a hand."
"No that's alright," I replied hastily. "They've probably got more important things to do around here."

"Believe me, they don't. They're my personal security detail—they go where I tell them."

"Alright," I said reluctantly. "But I'm not sure I'll need 'em."

"If you don't, just tell them to leave. That simple. Besides, you want to make a first impression on your college-mates—a lasting one anyway. Mercy and Hope have a way of doing that."

I raised my eyebrow curiously.

Hope followed me in her personal car, a Cadillac Seville, and helped lug a few boxes up to my second-floor room. My room was located at the end of a short hallway, flanked on either side by narrow, dirt-brown doors that led to dorm rooms of their own. Hope stood behind me, waiting patiently as I fumbled the room key out of my pocket. As I slid the key into the lock, the door to my right shot open.

A boy, taller than me, slid into the hallway between me and Hope, and removed his green skullcap revealing short black hair. He wore rimless glasses that sat loosely on the end of his nose. His face was…flawless. No stubble, no signs of puberty remaining; young for his age, probably not a day older than 17. Narrow black sideburns extended from his skull down to the curvature of his jaw, and curled back slightly when he smiled and introduced himself.

"Hi. The name's Jesse Wright."

"Allen O'Neill," I said shortly, a hint of amusement in my voice at this kid's straightforwardness.

"Having trouble with your key?" he asked. I grumbled and formulated a snarky remark to throw back at him. I decided against it. He seemed like a nice kid, even though we had known each other for about five seconds.

"Yeah," I said laboriously.

"You gotta turn it towards the wall. It's screwy like that."

I followed suit, and pushed the door open. Looking back at Jesse, I smiled and said "thanks."

"No problem. Need some help with those boxes?" He asked, referring to the cardboard cube I had delegated to the floor.

"Yeah. If you're able," I joked.

"No worries there," he countered as Hope pushed past him.

I set the box containing my bed furnishings on the as-such unfurnished mattress and turned back to Hope, who was carrying the box labeled "desk"—my laptop PC and basic school supplies.

"You can throw that on the floor, Hope."

With a courteous smile, she set it down. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, the television and box fan are down in my car, if you'd bring those in."

She turned to leave, striding confidently down the hall. Jesse craned his head through the open door to watch her go. I opened the "desk" box and began hooking up my laptop, when I saw Jesse standing still, gaping awkwardly down the hall at long-gone Hope.

"Easy turbo," I ribbed.

Shocking himself back to reality, Jesse turned back to me with dancing eyes. "Hot," he said.

"What?"

"The lady that's with you…"

"Oh…that," I said dismissively.

"Mother?" he asked plainly, and then more pressingly: "sister?"

"No," I said flatly. "Just a friend."

"That's what JFK said when Norma Jean started singing to him."

"Uh…yeah…" I trailed off, my eyes roving about the room. I went to the window and lifted the canvas shade. Outside, in the small back parking lot to my dorm, a green Jaguar was parked in the first space. Frowning, I tried to make out the license plate, but it was too far away to see. I snapped my fingers and turned back to Jesse.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked furtively.

"The squirrels," I replied dryly.

"Funny."

"Yeah. I thought so.

A pause.

"I'm gonna go check on Hope," I said.

"Uh…I'll come with," he said, excited at the prospect of face-time with Hope, and fell in step behind me.


Next: Things get worse!

Or do they?

You be the judge!