Title: Evidence
Series: Part 14
Rating: R
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Category: Romance/Angst
Spoilers: None
Monday morning, the sun hid behind obese bluish-grey clouds for the second day in a row, taunting with the prospect of rain, but so far, not following through on the threat. Clark pulled his jacket closer around him, out of apprehension rather than lack of warmth, and continued his reluctant walk toward the Talon.
Main Street had been eerily silent since the frightening events of the previous Friday. In fact, the entire town had become more somber than Clark could ever remember it being. Children weren't allowed outside after sunset, friendly neighbors were suddenly eyeing each other suspiciously, and tensions that had already existed only increased.
Clark's own mental state wasn't entirely stable either. The day after the party, his parents had finally begun to talk and it wasn't long before they were both screaming. Clark listened through the heating vent in his room and heard the word "divorce" mentioned more than once. Thankfully, though, his parents had enough sense to know that they depended on each other financially, and that they had to think of Clark. He only hoped that underneath all that obligation, there was still some piece of the love they used to share. But currently, Jonathan was sleeping on the couch and Martha wasn't sleeping at all if the sound of her constant pacing was any indication. Clark still did his part around the farm, but he made a point of never being within speaking distance of either of his parents. He was still furious at both of them--not even the tragedy of Kate's death could change that--and neither of them were really making any effort to change his mind.
Things in town weren't much better. Neither Jonathan nor Martha had the courage to go out and make the produce deliveries after everything that had been exposed. No doubt every one of their buyers had heard by now; some had even requested they be removed from the list. So Clark made the deliveries, facing the suspicious members of his community very much against his will, and regularly felt himself burning from the inside out under all the barely-masked scrutiny.
But Clark couldn't really blame people for wanting to know what was going on. They were just concerned after all. Some of the elderly ladies on his route had even become like surrogate grandmothers to him, inviting him inside for lemonade whenever he came by and tipping him generously with each delivery. And he had to admit, it felt good to finally be able to talk about everything. One of the more daring women, a kindly if somewhat nosey white-haired widow named Phyllis Dean, asked about his relationship with Lex.
"Do you really love him?" she asked a little nervously.
Clark barely nodded, biting on his lower lip. She tried to inquire further, asking how they met, what kind of things they had in common, and:
"How does a man know when another man is . . . interested in him?"
Clark explained the last question to the best of his ability, blushing profusely as he did so, but he never answered the questions about Lex. He didn't know the answers to those questions anymore. He and Lex hadn't spoken in days, and whenever Clark showed up at the mansion or called on the phone, he was told by a servant to try again later. Normally he would just find another way, like squeezing between the bars of Lex's gate or climbing up the wall to his bedroom window, hoping to get a laugh. But he knew Lex and he knew how Lex reacted to grief. He closed off emotionally, and pressuring him to share his feelings would only push him further away.
Maybe that was why the whole town seemed so dark and quiet. Maybe it had nothing to do with what had happened, but was actually Clark pushing his depression onto everything around him. Seeing the world through mud-colored glasses. He lay awake for hours each night thinking about the production he had seen with Lex in Metropolis. He felt sure that all the strangeness in the play was caused by the approaching of the Angel, and he couldn't help but fear that everything going wrong in Smallville was the result of his own . . . unusualness somehow rubbing off.
He was distracted from his thoughts as he came closer to the Talon and saw Lana sitting on the curb in front, her feet planted side by side in the gutter and her hands covering her face. Clark felt his heart break.
She looked so innocent in that moment. She looked like a little girl whose ice cream had just fallen off its cone and into the dirt. Except that Lana wasn't a little girl, and the Talon meant a lot more to her than an easily replaceable treat. It was Lana's past, present, and future all thrown together. It was her reason to get up in the morning, her only way of proving to herself that she was more than the Homecoming Queen she had been raised to be. It was her way out of the life that she so desperately didn't want to live, and now, who could say if it would ever open its doors again?
The police were still investigating Kate's death and the entire property was blocked off with yards of police tape whose brilliant yellow hue seemed blinding amidst the funereal dullness cast by the clouds. Clark hadn't realized the investigation would still be going on. He had been questioned by the police after the party just like everyone else, but he was unable to contribute much. He actually knew less than most of the party's attendees, having stormed out of the Talon in a rage before the murder even took place, a fact that would live on like a stain in his conscience for the rest of his life, knowing that if he had stuck around, Kate would probably still be alive. But just like every witness on the list (except Lex, for reasons yet unknown) Clark stated with as much conviction as he could muster that Lionel Luthor was the killer. He only prayed the old man screwed up somewhere along the way, leaving a piece of damning evidence behind.
Forcing his mind back to the present, Clark sat next to Lana and remained silent for a long time, waiting for her acknowledgment. He hadn't spoken to her since the night of the party, and he wasn't sure what kind of reception he would get from her. At last Lana lowered her hands into her lap, keeping her eyes focused at her feet.
"You know, if you stay here much longer, you're going to get gutter water all over your shoes," Clark muttered half-heartedly.
"It won't rain," Lana answered flatly.
"You sure? 'Cause it looks like--"
"The one thing this town could use is a good, cleansing rainstorm," Lana continued without emotion, "for the sky to pour down on us in buckets for three days straight and wash away all the sickness. It would be a blessing, Clark. So what on earth makes you think it will actually happen?"
Lana looked at Clark fiercely, her piercing eyes as dry as the empty gutter. The rage there startled Clark, and he had to make an effort not to look away.
"I never took you for the cynical type," he said quietly.
"Yeah, well, I'm surprised it took me this long," she snapped, turning her angry stare back to her feet. "My life has never really been shining and happy."
"True," Clark nodded. "But at least you have a strong network of people who love and support you. Your friends are always here for you, Lana."
"Friends like you, right? Gee, Clark, somehow I don't find that extremely comforting."
Lana stood abruptly and turned around to face the front doors of the Talon. She cupped her hands around her eyes and attempted to see through the translucent glass to the investigation still going on inside. Clark stood behind her.
"Lana, that's not fair. I didn't cause any of this. It's not my fault Lionel Luthor is insane."
"No, it's not," Lana replied without turning around. "And it's not my fault you're a two-faced liar, but for some reason I'm still getting punished for it."
"Lana--"
"Why couldn't you just tell me, Clark?" Lana finally turned around, struggling not to cry and so far succeeding. "Do you have any idea how foolish I felt when I realized the truth about you and Lex? Here I was at the party we planned together, actually thinking that I was making forward strides in our relationship, and the whole time you and Lex were laughing behind my back."
"It wasn't like that. I wanted to tell you, but--"
"But not until you'd had your fun stringing me along, right? Come on, Clark, you can't tell me you didn't know how I felt about you. I've been wearing my feelings on my sleeve. You had to realize what you were doing to me!"
"I did know what I was doing to you and it killed me!" Clark shot back. "Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted, but I was afraid to tell you the truth."
"The truth would have hurt less, Clark. Yes, it would have been hard to hear, but at least I would have known. I could have avoided looking like an idiot at my own party when my date was outted to the whole school."
Clark was shocked. "Is that all that matters to you, Lana? Your reputation?"
"What matters is that I've fallen in love with someone I can't have, and you could've stopped it! You didn't even have to mention Lex. You could have just told me you weren't interested in a relationship with me. If I had just had the chance to get over my feelings before..."
Lana turned back to the storefront, crossing her arms and holding her hand to her mouth as she lost the battle with her tears. Clark walked slowly toward her, raising his hands to squeeze her shoulders, aching to comfort her, to make things better as only he could. But knowing his touch would only intensify her pain, he pulled his hands away before they reached their destination.
"I wish I could fix this," he said finally. "I treated you unfairly, and if I could go back and change it--"
"You can't."
"No, I can't. I just want you to know I only wanted to protect you. That's all I've ever wanted. I care about you so much."
Lana smiled to herself sadly. "And you love Lex," she replied, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah..." Clark whispered. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. To tell anybody, everybody."
"I'm guessing the other night wasn't exactly what you had in mind," Lana said, finally turning around as some of her natural softness crept back into her shaky voice.
"Not exactly, no."
Taking a deep breath, Lana tentatively stepped forward and took Clark's hand in both of her own. "I'm sorry, Clark. I'm being selfish."
"Lana, it's okay--"
"No. No, it's not. I'm going on and on about my own pain when you're clearly hurting too. Clark, I had no idea about all of the things going on with your family. That must have been awful to be keeping all those secrets for so long."
Clark nodded. "I was just trying to keep my family together."
"But it's not your responsibility, Clark. The things your parents did to protect you aren't your fault."
"Well, if I hadn't killed a man, my parents wouldn't have had to protect me, now would they?"
"Clark--"
"No, it's true. This whole thing is my fault. If I hadn't gotten myself into this mess, my father wouldn't have been in jail for so long, Lex wouldn't be stuck with the burden of constantly helping me, and Kate... Kate would still..."
Clark trailed off as the lump in his throat finally overpowered his ability to speak. He turned from Lana, stumbling into a seated position on the curb as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let the tears out. Lana sat down to his left and said nothing for at least a full minute. Eventually Clark felt the warmth of Lana's arm wrap around his back, soon followed by the side of her face pressing against his shoulder.
"I wish I could have been there for you," she offered sadly.
Clark nodded. "You are now," he said. "It means a lot to me. Does this mean I haven't ruined our friendship?"
Lana laughed softly in spite of herself. "Of course you haven't, Clark. After everything that's happened, I guess I understand why you wouldn't tell me about you and Lex."
"So you're okay with it?"
Lana removed her arm from Clark's back and studied his face, almost as if seeing him for the first time. The beauty in his features and the kindness in his eyes were intoxicating, even addicting. She craved it endlessly and even now she felt her heart thumping madly as Clark stared quietly back at her. But was it possible she didn't really know him? Was it possible that she had fallen in love with some kind of imaginary creation that actually had nothing to do with the real Clark? She had hardly been given a chance to get to know Clark as a person and as a friend before deciding she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Maybe it was time to start exploring other avenues, find out what Clark Kent was really all about. Maybe.
"It might take me a while to digest it all," she finally said, choosing her words carefully. "But I'll get there."
"You sure?"
"You're one of my best friends, Clark. If you're happy, I'm happy."
Clark smiled and pulled Lana into his arms in a massive bear hug. Lana's heart raced and she closed her eyes as she absorbed Clark's heat into every inch of her body, letting herself savor his embrace one last time before giving him up.
He's happy, she thought. How can I deny him that?
Completely overwhelmed by the enormity of her feelings, Lana pulled away as gently as possible. She wanted to be there for Clark, but she was in desperate need of a new topic of conversation. Clark was thinking along the same lines.
"School starts in a week," he offered. "You ready?" Lana gave him a pointed look in response. "Uh, stupid question. Sorry. So have you heard anything about the investigation?"
Lana shook her head bitterly. "Nothing more than anyone else in town. I mean, you'd think they'd at least tell me what's going on."
"That's horrible," Clark agreed.
"And you know what the most infuriating part is? Lionel Luthor actually came to me and told me to let him know if there's anything he can do. The man responsible for this whole mess actually has the nerve to offer his help."
Clark's stomach began to seize. "Lionel came to you?" he asked cautiously. "Why isn't he in jail?"
"Well, that's the one thing the police will tell me. They can't find a scrap of evidence against him."
"What about surveillance? I'm sure I've seen cameras in the Talon."
"That's the best part," Lana seethed. "Nell and I spent hundreds of dollars on surveillance for every inch of this place, and it was all for nothing. All the surveillance tapes from that night were stolen from the back office."
Clark stared in disbelief. "Lana, you need to be careful."
"Careful! Clark, he killed someone on my property and then he stole from me! And if the police aren't going to do anything about it--"
"Lana, don't! Don't even say that, okay?"
"Why not? Don't I deserve justice? Doesn't Kate!"
"Not at the price of your life!"
The righteous indignation dropped from Lana's features. "What are you saying, Clark? Do you think he would actually come back and..."
"No. I don't know. Lana, I'm not trying to scare you. But you have to be careful. You know first hand what Lionel is capable of, and maybe shouting threats out in the open like this isn't such a good idea."
"I'm just so angry," Lana muttered fearfully.
"I know," Clark said, grasping her shoulders gently. "But I don't need something to happen to you too, okay?"
Lana nodded, pulling her arms tightly across her chest. After a long silence, she pulled herself from Clark's grip.
"How was the funeral?" she asked softly.
"I, uh, I didn't go. Lex didn't want me there."
"I don't believe that," Lana replied, surprising even herself.
"Well, he didn't invite me. I didn't even know about it until I saw his picture in the newspaper. He was standing next to her coffin in a Metropolis cemetery holding two white roses."
"I saw the same picture. He looked lonely."
Clark nodded.
"Clark, I know it's none of my business, but you have to talk to him."
"I've tried--"
"Try harder. Neither one of you should be going through this alone."
"He doesn't want to see me."
"Yes, he does, Clark. You just have to make him realize it. You have to remind him how much he needs you. And how much you need him."
Every word from Lana's mouth was like a blade piercing her own skin. Even as she rekindled the faltering hope in Clark's worried eyes, she felt her own heart breaking. She knew she didn't have to say these things. She knew how easy it would be to use this situation to get closer to Clark and separate him from Lex forever. But she wasn't that person. Even the mere presence of such malice in her mind was frightening to her.
All she could do now was all she had ever done. Be Clark's friend.
"If I could just get through to him," Clark continued, deep in thought. "There has to be something I can say to make him listen."
Lana shook her head, unable to give any answers. Clark suddenly made eye contact.
"What?" Lana asked.
"You said Lionel stole the surveillance tapes from the night of the party."
"Yeah?"
"Everything recorded on those cameras is transmitted to Lex's security room in the mansion!"
"Are you sure?" Lana asked nervously.
"I think so. I remember him saying he likes checking in from time to time without actually coming to the Talon."
"So the evidence we need to convict Lionel could be sitting in Lex's house right now?"
"Unless Lionel already found it..."
Lana eyes widened. "Lex could be in danger!"
Clark was already poised to set out on a dead run, but he hesitated. "Are you going to be okay?
"I'm fine, Clark. Now go!"
Lana pointed in the direction of Lex's mansion insistently. Smiling in gratitude, Clark kissed her cheek with a force and brevity that left her light-headed, and he sprinted across the street out of Lana's sight.
A little out of breath herself, Lana resumed her position on the curb and looked up to the colorless sky, wishing it would just suck her up and bury her in its all-encompassing oblivion. She wiped a few strands of hair out of her face and wondered in vain why doing the right thing always had to be so hard.
For the past few days, everything had hit Lex in waves. Sleep wouldn't come when he craved it, when he felt that if he were conscious for one more second he would go completely mad. Instead, he had to wait for the tide. The waves of exhaustion would torment him, lapping cruelly at his heavy eyes, his burdened heart, until finally crashing forth in a tidal of fitful rest and half-formed nightmares. Then there was the nausea. One second he was so hungry he felt like he couldn't stop eating to save the world. The next, he was just barely making it the bathroom in time to spill it all back up, as beads of sweat ran down his forehead and fell from a central point between his eyes into the murky water below. His throat burned and he could feel his heart pounding in every inch of his skin and he felt for sure he was going to break.
Then another wave of unconsciousness--half blessing, half curse--would sweep him away.
He went on like this for three days, ignoring his phones, ignoring his business. His servant had called in to the plant, stating that Lex had pressing engagements out of town and, until further notice, would be on indefinite sabbatical.
Unfortunately for Lex, there were no pressing engagements. There was no trip out of town and there was nothing to distract him from the hell he was living. Hours of wakefulness passed him by as he sat upright in his bed, refusing all of the phone calls that came through, not even bothering to ask who they were from. Deep down he hoped that the calls were from Clark, that Clark's need for Lex was anywhere near as powerful as Lex's need for him. That way it would hurt Clark even more, knowing that Lex refused to talk to him. Maybe then Clark would understand what it meant to be deserted in his hour of most desperate need. He would know just how Lex felt in the moment that his own world came crashing down and when, in unparalleled desperation, he reached out to the one he loved most, and was turned away. The moment that Clark chose Lana.
The freshly deceased body of Lex's last real link to his mother swaying in the air above them, and Clark chose Lana.
Sickened by the stabbing rage in his heart and by the painfully vivid image sparking in his memory, Lex reached for the bottle of Jack Daniel's that seemed to have become a permanent fixture on his bedside table. Taking a long gulp, he winced at the burn of the dark liquid rampaging down his throat. He smiled bitterly at his own drunken observation made at a college party years earlier:
"Good friends aren't always true. But good whiskey always burns."
And just as his throat burned despite his increasing inebriation, so grew the pain of knowing that Clark had chosen to turn away from him, the pain of knowing that in the last three days, Clark had made no effort to see him or even check on him.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Lex knew that Clark had called several times every day, even arrived at the front door of the mansion a couple of times, and had been turned away. But Lex wasn't satisfied. He knew as well as he knew anything that when Clark wants to get in, Clark gets in, and so far, nothing of the sort had happened. Lex was still alone and miserable, and Clark was still somewhere else, what, happy? Relieved? Confused? Who knew anymore?
Correction. Who caresLex thought. If Clark wanted to be here, he would be here. And he isn't, so he doesn't. Period.
He raised the bottle to his lips again and squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of the coming onslaught, then opened one eye suspiciously when it didn't come.
"Fuck," he swore, realizing the bottle was empty. He opened the drawer in his bedside table, "the reserves" as Lex referred to it, and swore again when he saw that it too was empty. Clutching the useless bottle tightly against his chest, he took a deep breath, attempting to raise the energy it was going to take to get up out of bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen. Halfway through his inhalation, though, his watery brain flipped away from the task at hand as easily as one would turn a page in a book, thoughts of Kate and Clark washed back over him in a fresh, singeing wave of grief. He bowed his head, holding his breath against the lump in his throat.
It was in this state, in this array of painful images and unendingly torturous thoughts that Lionel burst through Lex's bedroom door.
"Alexander, what on God's earth do you think you're doing! Have you learned nothing over the past three years? A company needs a leader! How do you think your employees would feel about you if they knew you were in this bed, wasting away and sniveling like an imbecile?"
Lex stared straight head without flinching. If he had even heard his father's angry voice, he gave no indication of it.
"I asked you a question, Lex! Are you going to answer me or are you just going to sit there and drool into your lap?"
"Cocksucker," Lex said under his breath.
"I beg your pardon?"
Lex raised his eyes to his father's and for the first time in three days felt something other than bone-shattering heartbreak badly masked by alcoholic numbness. He felt rage. It rose up in his lungs like fire and set all of his muscles into rigid lines as his teeth clenched so tightly that they actually squeaked as they ground together.
"Cocksucker," he said again, quite loudly, his eyes never leaving his father's face.
With a chuckle that was equal parts amused and surprised, Lionel took a step back from his son.
"My, my," he clucked. "Of all the possible excuses I had imagined, that certainly wasn't one of—"
"You fucking cocksucker!" Lex screamed, jumping from the bed and spilling the sheets all over the floor in the process. "Why did you do it! She never did a fucking thing to you! Why did you have to kill her!"
Lionel calmly straightened his lapels. "Well, I'm quite sure I don't know what you're referring—"
"Don't give me that!" Lex shouted, grabbing the jacket out of his father's hands and shaking him by it. "You killed her! She was the closest thing to my mother I had left and you took her away from me!"
"Lex, stop this! Stop this now!" Lionel yelled, trying unsuccessfully to free himself from Lex's grip and the cloud of alcoholic breath shooting from his son's mouth.
"It just wasn't good enough that my mom was gone, was it? It wasn't good enough that you tried to take away everything she ever taught me! You just couldn't stop until you knew I had nothing left!"
"Son, listen to me--"
With another sudden burst of strength, Lex threw Lionel to the ground where he landed on the hardwood floor in a heap. "Don't call me that! You sick bastard, I am not your son!"
Lex delivered one bare-footed kick after another into Lionel's stomach as Lionel gasped in protest.
"Son... please..."
"Stop!" Lex screamed with another merciless kick. "I don't belong to you! You don't affect any part of my life! As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but the pathetic bastard who came between my mother and the only person she really loved!"
Lionel suddenly caught Lex's ankle in a death grip, stopping another kick. "The same pathetic bastard," Lionel gasped, "without whom you would not exist... Son."
"Let go!" Lex yelled weakly, his own strength waning as Lionel's quickly returned. Lionel rose slowly to his feet as Lex began to lose his balance. His short-lived adrenaline rush was coming to a bitter end, and his drunken stupor was returning in its place. "I hate you," he whispered.
"Son..." Lionel began, moving his hands from Lex's ankle to his midsection, steadying him.
"I fucking hate you," Lex went on, feeling Lionel's grip tighten around the sides of his waist. "Don't touch me..." His eyelids started to droop and he lost his balance, teetering into Lionel's chest. "Lionel...Dad... hate you."
"I love you," Lionel replied.
"Hate you, Dad," Lex repeated, finally giving into an ocean of tears that spattered onto Lionel's silk tie.
"And I love you, son. I love you, and I will not let you do this to yourself," Lionel persisted, his own voice softening unexpectedly.
"You did this to me," Lex cried, disgusted at Lionel's sudden display of affection, even as he let it envelop him.
"Everything I do is out of my love for you," Lionel whispered against Lex's ear. "I know it sounds impossible, but it's true."
"You killed Kate out of pride," Lex spat.
"I never laid a hand on Kate, Lex. You know that."
Lex shook his head, still bent cravingly over his father's chest. "Your hands, your thug's hands. What's the difference?"
Lionel took a step back and used his right hand to raise Lex's chin. He looked into his son's bloodshot eyes. "I'm building an empire, Lex. You know this."
"Dad--" Lex tried to shake out of Lionel's embrace, but Lionel wouldn't let him go.
"And you know that every block I put in place, I will one day pass along to you."
"I don't want to hear it, Dad."
"And nobody crosses me, son, nobody," Lionel continued as if Lex hadn't even spoken. "I make sure that nobody crosses me so that one day, nobody will cross you. Not even someone like Kate."
"I loved her."
"That's exactly why she was a threat, Lex. You can never love someone who is trying to take something away from you."
"All she ever wanted to do was give to me, to make me happy."
"And in so doing, take me out of your life forever."
"Dad, it didn't have to be that way! It didn't have to be you against her."
"It would have always been that way, Lex," Lionel stated powerfully. "I did what I had to do. There was no other way to deal with the situation."
Lex snorted under his breath and finally succeeded in backing out of Lionel's arms. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slapping away Lionel's outreached hands when he finally found the support of his bed behind his legs. "You just want me to be miserable."
"I want you to be strong, Lex. And the only way you can ever realize true power is if you follow the path that has been set out for you. But like I said, anyone who gets in the way of that path..."
Lex suddenly felt a sinking in his heart, a burst of fear as if the floor had just opened up beneath him. "Get out."
"Lex, we can't just leave things unfinished like this."
"Get out now."
Lionel stormed across the bedroom toward the door, but refused to leave. "Lex, why? Why now, just when we're starting to communicate? My God, this is more progress than we've made in years. Why do you have to start shutting me out again?"
"Because you don't love me," Lex stated, his tired head swinging unsteadily above his shoulders. "And I won't let you hurt anyone I love ever again."
Lionel squinted his eyes, trying to decipher Lex's meaning. His expression quickly returned to normal when it dawned on him. "The Kent boy."
"Don't say his name," Lex whispered, the rage in his eyes regaining its cool ferocity.
"Do you think I give a damn about your personal affairs, Lex? That boy is nothing but a lapdog to you. What threat can he possibly pose to your future?" Lionel knew very well that Clark meant more to Lex than just sexual gratification, but he sincerely hoped that after the embarrassment at the party, Lex would call the relationship off. He waited patiently for Lex to respond.
Lex stopped himself from professing his love for Clark on the spot. He realized that as long as Lionel believed Clark was nothing more than a toy to Lex, that Clark was safe. Maybe his current split from Clark was actually the best thing that could have happened to them both. Now, not only was Clark safe from Lionel's insanity, but Lionel would never have any reason to investigate him, to find out just how special he really was.
"Don't tell me that underpaid farm implement actually means something to you," Lionel pressed.
Lex replied with an ambiguously cold gaze, praying Lionel would take whatever he needed from it, whatever he needed to believe that he, the senior Luthor, had the upper hand.
"Good," Lionel concluded finally much to Lex's relief. "To each his own tastes, I suppose. But I don't have to warn you of the dangers of getting emotionally attached, do I."
A statement, not a question, and Lex remained silent, perfectly aware of what was to come next. But just as Lionel took a breath to say more, no doubt about to reheat the infamous and unforgivably stale Eye of Exile speech, his cell phone called out from inside his jacket. Holding up one apologetic finger, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a comically small piece of plastic which he placed against his ear.
"Yes." A long pause as the expression on Lionel's face shifted from calm and detached to mildly agitated, maybe a cover for something more urgent, maybe not. Even after all these years, Lex could never really tell.
"When?" Lionel asked, his voice as steady as the ground beneath his feet. "I thought we agreed on this never happening again. No, no, give your excuses to someone who cares. I'm coming to see for myself."
With the touch of a microscopic button, Lionel dropped the phone back into his pocket and looked into Lex's eyes, as if asking to be excused.
"Go," Lex said. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's more important than me."
Taking a step closer, Lionel put his hands on Lex's shoulders. "Nothing is more important than you, Lex. And if the project on the other end of that phone call works out the way I want it to, our family's future will be brighter than you ever imagined."
"Project," Lex repeated.
"I can't say anymore right now. I'm sure you understand." Lex snorted, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "I'll be out of the country for the next week or so," Lionel went on. "Please, son. If not for me, then for your employees. Take care of yourself."
Without waiting for a response, Lionel turned on his heel and stalked out the door nearly as purposefully as he had stalked in. Just before shutting the door behind him, he turned back for one more look at Lex.
"So young," he said quietly with a hint of nostalgia in his tone.
"What?"
Lionel snapped out of his reverie. "I hope we can talk frankly again, in the future. It's been enlightening." Without another word, the bedroom door slammed shut with two generations of Luthors on either side, the elder's footsteps fading into silence.
Caught somewhere between laughter and tears, Lex began another slow trek to the bathroom as he felt a fresh wave of bile and alcohol reaching up his esophagus. He made it to the toilet just as his insides began to spill out, and all he could think was that at least Clark was safe.
I hate him and he betrayed me, Lex thought with another forceful heave of his stomach. But he's safe. Clark is safe.
"Clark--" he said aloud, needing desperately to taste that name in his mouth, needing to hear it in his own voice where he knew no harm would come to it. "Clark," he whispered again. Upon attempting to say it once more, his gut let its third and most violent convulsion resound, sending him nearly into unconsciousness right there on the bathroom floor. But before he felt all awareness slip away, a strong and unbelievably warm hand rested on his back, and the loving voice he would recognize even from the other side of the world spoke to him.
"I'm here, Lex."
Lex slowly turned his head to the left and found Clark seated on the floor next to him, stroking his back up and down soothingly, and gazing into his eyes with a purity only Clark possessed.
"No..." Lex began.
"I'm right here. Please, don't ask me to leave, Lex."
As Lex was preparing to do just that, Clark reached past him to where the toilet paper hung from a gaudy silver hook on the wall and broke off two squares, rubbing them gently over the corners of Lex's mouth. In the face of such honest devotion, such perfect concern, Lex's resolve left him completely, and for the second time in an hour, he felt himself falling to pieces in another man's arms. The difference being that Clark's were the arms he had been craving all along. His tears burned his face on the way down and he felt Clark's tears burning the top of his head.
He breathed in Clark's fresh scent, the smell of farm and love, and he reached deep inside himself for the strength to make Clark go away. Clark's presence in this house, not to mention Lex's life, was becoming more and more unwise with every passing day, and even as a thousand reasons to justify that theory pounded on the inside of Lex's skull, he couldn't bring himself to say a word. Even his sorest injury, the fact that Clark had run to Lana's aid and not Lex's that night at the Talon, didn't seem reason enough to pry himself from the powerful arms that held him so warmly and so gently.
Clark Kent's mere presence was stronger than any alcoholic concoctions or illicit substances Lex could ever hope to afford, and he couldn't give up the comfort he found in his lover's arms. Not after all this time, in the midst of all this heartbreak.
"Do you think you can stand?" Clark whimpered tightly, ineffectively trying to hide his own emotion for Lex's sake.
Lex nodded, and together they slowly rose to their feet, looking into each other's eyes. Lex held Clark's face in his hands as Clark's arms wrapped firmly around Lex's waist and for several long minutes, they were content to stand there and watch each other cry quietly.
"I miss her, Clark." Clark's name broke from Lex's lips in a watery undisguised sob, and Clark pulled Lex's face to his own. "I miss her," Lex repeated.
Clark sucked what bitterness he could from the salt on Lex's lips and nodded, his own brave front falling away before he could stop it. "I know," he whispered.
"Clark..." Lex repeated shakily, and as his legs gave out beneath him, Clark picked him up immediately. Through a storm of his own tears, Clark carried Lex out of the bathroom and back to the bed where he laid him down gently, quickly lying down next to him, their bodies locking together like two pieces of a puzzle, each completely incomplete without the other. Clark pulled his legs out of the tangled creation long enough to kick his shoes onto the floor, then promptly returned.
Once the crying had calmed to a level of slightly heavy breathing, Clark stroked the alabaster skin of Lex's face resting only inches from his own on the soft burgundy pillow. "Do you need a glass of water or anything?" he asked softly.
Lex shook his head.
"What if I rub your back?" Clark persisted, trailing chaste kisses along Lex's cheek and temple. "I could run a bath."
Lex placed a hand on Clark's neck, holding him still. "Can we just . . . be?"
Without responding, Clark scrunched in closer to Lex, tightening the grip of his arms and legs around his lover's tired body, and nuzzled into Lex's neck where he started to suck gently on the tender skin there.
Lex took a deep breath and as he exhaled, he forced all conscious thought from his mind. There would come a time for talking soon enough, but right now, right in this moment, he needed the blessed stillness he only found in Clark's arms. No more thoughts of Kate and the residual hatred of all things Lionel Luthor. No more anger at Clark for making a strange decision in an even stranger situation.
"Love you," Clark said sleepily, breaking in on Lex's thoughts. The thoughts that he was determined not to be having. Thinking meant knowing, knowing meant understanding, and understanding meant misery. Lex wanted none of it. He let out another long, burdensome breath and melted first into the solidity of Clark's embrace, and then into the nothingness of his first peaceful sleep in three days.
Love you, too, Clark, was his last non thought before blinking out completely.
When Lex woke up, the side of his face was pressed against Clark's bare--and deliciously warm--chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around the muscled torso beneath him and took a deep breath of serenity, ignoring the insistent despair that lingered on the periphery. He was forced to take a small step back into the darkness, however, when he noticed the arrhythmic rise and fall of Clark's stomach with his breath, indicating that Clark was awake and troubled about something.
"What is it, baby?" Lex asked without moving his head. He dragged a slow hand across Clark's stomach in hopes of calming him.
"I need you to do me a favor," was Clark's reply.
"Anything," Lex whispered, planting a small kiss on Clark's shoulder.
"Go away."
At that, Lex's head lifted from its position and craned around to look Clark in the eye. Clark wasn't nearly as grave as he had been earlier, but there was no evidence of laughter in his face either. He was completely serious.
"What?" Lex asked weakly, feeling that one more rejection might shatter him forever.
"Just for a little while," Clark assured him. "There's something I need to do."
Lex let out a soft breath and let his head drop, reclaiming his human pillow. "I'm not in the mood for a surprise, Clark."
"I wish that's all it was. Lex, I need to get into your security office."
Again, Lex's head rose, and this time the rest of his upper body with it. He pushed himself into a seated position against the headboard to look at Clark. And although he didn't say so, he was more than a little pleased when Clark sat up too, immediately pulling Lex into his lap, as if not touching him for the last few days had left Clark feeling starved of intimate contact. Lex could definitely understand.
"What could you possibly have to do in my security office?" Lex asked drowsily, resting his forehead against Clark's.
His young lover took a few moments before he answered. "It has to do with Kate and . . . what happened."
Lex pulled his head back and regarded Clark quietly. "You want to see the surveillance tape," he deduced flatly.
"Lex, I have to. I--"
"No, Clark, you don't," Lex cut him off, pulling himself out of Clark's embrace and getting out of bed. "The only thing you'll see on that tape is a moment in time that never should have happened."
"Lex, you don't understand."
"In fact, I'm glad you reminded me of it." Lex's tone was surprisingly bright. "I want to destroy it before anyone gets a chance to look at it. No one should have to watch that."
"But Lex, it's evidence!"
Lex was already on his way to the bedroom door, and Clark climbed out of the bed to stop him. "Evidence of what?" Lex spouted a little more frantically than he intended. "That my father is a whack-job? I already got the memo, Clark, thanks." He reached for the doorknob and Clark grabbed his hand, holding it close to his own chest.
"Evidence that your father, or one of his men, killed Kate!" Lex's panicked face went blank for about half a second, shocked at hearing the horrifying facts spelled out so bluntly, but his mask of unfeeling calculation quickly resumed its place.
"Oh, my God, Clark, you're right. I have to get to the Talon!" Lex curtly pulled his hand out of Clark's grip and sped over to his closet door, swinging it open in search of something to wear.
"Why?" Clark asked, becoming more and more flustered himself.
"A copy of the surveillance tape will be there too," Lex replied. "I have to get rid of it before the cops find it."
Clark stood where he was with his mouth barely open in a breathy crack of disbelief. He suddenly understood why Lex was suddenly so adamant about getting rid of the tapes. Although Lex knew very well that Lionel killed Kate, he had spent so many years immersed in the idea that Luthors were above the law that he was acting out of pure instinct. How many times must Lex have had to cover up evidence for his father in the past? Clark shuddered at the thought. Again, he went to Lex's side and stilled his hands, then wrapped his arms forcefully around Lex's chest.
"Clark, stop! I have to go!"
Lex tried to wrench himself free, but Clark only held on tighter, pulling Lex away from the closet door.
"Lex, your father belongs in jail," Clark said quietly, as though introducing the idea to Lex for the first time.
"No. No, he would never forgive me! Clark, please let go!"
"He already stole the surveillance tape from the Talon," Clark blurted. "Please tell me he doesn't know about your security office."
"I don't think so, but the police could still find out. Now let go of me, so I can get rid of the tape!"
Exasperated, Clark shook Lex by the shoulders. "Lionel is a killer, Lex! Stop trying to protect him!"
Lex's struggling ceased completely, and he looked up at Clark with an expression of surprise and hurt, not unlike a child who has just been scolded. Then understanding finally dawned on him and he put his hand over his mouth.
"What am I doing?" he whispered.
"It's okay," Clark tried.
"No, it's not! Clark, what the hell is wrong with me?"
"You were just falling into old patterns. It's okay--"
"No, no, no," Lex moaned as he began once more his trek to the bedroom door. "You're right, Clark. The only thing that will make any of this okay is if my father is punished. Come on. We have to get the tape."
"Wait, Lex!" Lex stopped. "Like I said before, let me do it. I don't want you to have to watch that."
"Neither one of us will have to watch it, Clark," Lex said calmly. "All of my surveillance tapes are labeled. I'll grab the tape from August 15th and we'll give it to the police. Let them deal with it."
Clark nodded his agreement. He accompanied Lex to the security room, small but comfortable, and not nearly as intimidating as Clark had expected. There was a row of VCRs on the counter next to two wide-screen televisions. Both screens were split into six different windows, the first being live images of the outside of Lex's mansion, the second, live images of the Talon's interior and exterior. Clark took a close look at the second screen and saw that the police officers had finally let Lana come inside. They were all seated around a large table, apparently taking a break, as Lana served them coffee. She seemed pleased. Not happy exactly, but relieved that she finally had something to do, a way to be useful. Her kindness pulled at Clark's heartstrings.
"Got it," Lex said after shuffling through a tall stack of tapes in a cupboard above the counter. He held up a tape labeled "Talon Theater - 8/15/03 - 5PM-1AM."
Clark swallowed heavily. "Okay," he breathed distractedly. "Let's get down there."
Lex followed Clark's stare to the TV screen and realized what he was looking at. "She doesn't have to be there," Lex said quietly.
"You know how protective she is of the Talon," Clark said. "She just wants to make sure everything is okay."
"Newsflash, Lang. Nothing is okay." The comment slipped out before Lex could stop it, and the startled look in Clark's eyes made him regret it immediately.
"But . . . we're okay, right?" Clark ventured.
Lex seriously considered the question. "I really don't know, Clark. I mean, I thought we were. After we made up the other night, I thought nothing could ever go wrong between us again. That is until..."
"Until I went to Lana and not you."
Lex couldn't hide his surprise. Despite how in tune with each other he and Clark had become, he was still a little shocked every time Clark seemingly read his mind. "I'm sorry, Lex."
"No, whatever. You don't have to explain."
"No, I do. Lex, I wasn't thinking. I saw the bod-- uh, I saw Kate and I just lost my head for a minute. Lana was the very next thing I laid eyes on, and she honestly looked like she was about to break. I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I justified it by telling myself how strong you are, because you are strong, Lex. You are the strongest person I know."
"So Lana needed you more," Lex nodded, biting his lip. "I can understand that."
"But that doesn't make up for it," Clark said sadly. "Yes, Lana was terrified. But you are the one I love, and I should have been by your side."
Lex took a sharp breath, feeling his emotions trying to take over once more. "Yes, you should have," he whispered.
Without another thought, Clark pulled Lex into a tight hug. Lex tensed up for a moment, then let himself be taken, burying his face in Clark's neck. They stood there for a long time, breathing each other in, the warm bodily contact more cathartic than words could ever be. When they finally parted, they had both attained a feeling of resolution. The moment of doubt had passed, and the memory was already fading.
"Should we take this down to the Talon?" Clark asked, gently removing the videotape from Lex's hand.
"Let's stop downstairs for some lunch first," Lex replied, as his aching stomach started to growl. "I'm feeling like I might actually be able to eat now."
Clark nodded and, hand in hand, they walked down the long flight of stairs and into the dining room. Moments later, they were sharing lunch in silence as Lex skimmed through the latest issue of the Ledger. Clark couldn't seem to take his eyes off the surveillance tape sitting between them on the table.
"Do you think it's enough?" he finally asked.
"What?"
"The tape. Do you think it's good evidence? I mean, what if it was Lionel's bodyguard who actually--"
"It was his bodyguard," Lex interrupted. "But everyone at the party saw them together."
"You're right. The tape should be enough," Clark said, trying not to worry.
"Yeah," Lex added, his voice shaking with nervousness. "Enough to put my father in prison."
Lex shivered, clearly terrified of the idea. Clark scooted his chair closer and put a comforting arm around his waist. He glanced over Lex's shoulder at the newspaper as Lex turned the page, and they both gasped at what they saw.
In the center of a long article was a black and white picture of Lionel's bodyguard from the party, the very same man they had just been discussing. In large black letters, the headline read "Second Body Recovered at Talon Crime Scene."
Below the headline in slightly smaller, but no less noticeable print: "Max Heller, Bodyguard to Billionaire Lionel Luthor, Found Dead in Dumpster Outside The Talon."
Clark and Lex sat in stunned silence.
"Lionel killed him?" Clark finally whispered.
Lex shrugged his shoulders, bewildered. "The videotape may not be enough on its own," he replied, swallowing deeply as fear caused his throat to constrict. "But this... Clark, why would my father kill one of his own men?"
Clark shook his head. "He must've snapped. Seeing Kate again, finding out about you and me-- Lex, I think he's gone completely insane."
"And that means--"
"That means that nobody is safe."
"Oh, my God, Clark. Your parents!"
Nearly knocking over their chairs in the process, Lex and Clark jumped from their places at the table and ran up the stairs to Lex's bedroom to get dressed. In a matter of seconds, they were both fully clothed and running out the front door. Lex reached into his pants pocket as he ran and pulled out his key ring, hitting a button on the remote to unlock his car.
"Lex, wait!" Lex stopped what he was doing to turn to Clark. "I know a faster way."
Lex understood immediately. Not entirely without trepidation, Lex leaped into Clark's arms. He barely had a chance to lock his hands tightly around Clark's neck before they were traveling at dizzying speed to the Kent farm.
Back in the mansion, resting on the dining room table next to the day's issue of the Smallville Ledger, was the surveillance tape from the Talon. In their sudden panic, neither Clark nor Lex had remembered to put it somewhere safe before leaving, and the time would come when they would realize the severity of that mistake.
Lex did his best to hide his face from the stinging wind that seemed to be attacking him from all directions, but his nose was burning and his scalp felt like it was being torn from his skull. He had been holding his breath out of fear for the first few seconds of the ride, but when he finally tried to relax, he panicked even more, finding that the rushing air wouldn't allow him a single gasp. He pressed his mouth against the vibrant red of Clark's T-shirt, trying desperately to suck even one drop of oxygen into his throbbing lungs, but received nothing. Just when Lex felt the conscious world slipping away from him, Clark stopped. They had arrived at the farm.
As if Clark had been expecting this kind of reaction, he held Lex in his arms a few moments longer, patting his back softly as Lex caught his breath. Under any other circumstances, Lex would find the entire situation ridiculous. He didn't like to be carried in the first place, and he certainly didn't fancy being cradled like a child out in the open where anyone could see. But in his current state, all he could think of was getting a sufficient amount of oxygen to his brain. And there was really no reason to worry about anyone seeing them. It wasn't as if the whole town didn't already know that he and Clark were a couple.
Feeling his heartbeat slowing down at last, Lex nodded his head and tapped Clark on the shoulder, signaling that he was ready to stand. Clark let him down carefully, but never completely let go of him, clearly afraid that Lex would pass out at any minute. Lex nodded again.
"I'm okay."
They started a slow walk to the front door of the farmhouse until Lex put a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Maybe we should split up."
"Are you sure?" Clark's concern bled through in the tone of his voice.
"I'm fine, Clark. And the sooner we make sure your parents are okay, the better."
Clark pondered for a moment before finally agreeing. "You're right. Yell if you need me, okay?"
"Fine," Lex said, having no intentions whatsoever of yelling for anything.
"I'm serious, Lex! I went too fast for your first time. I should have been more careful."
"Clark, I feel great, okay? Now go find your dad. I'll go inside and look for your mom."
Without giving Clark another chance to argue, Lex pulled open the front door and strode into the house briskly, hoping Clark didn't notice the wobbling in his legs that he couldn't seem to get rid of. But whether Clark noticed or not, he chose to keep quiet, and seconds later, Lex heard a blast of air as Clark took off into the field to search for Jonathan. Relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Clark's father, Lex began his own search.
"Martha?" he called out, startled by the shaking in his voice. He took a deep breath and tried again, this time sounding more like himself. "Martha, are you home?"
No response, and Lex felt his stomach beginning to sink. What if something had happened to her? What if Lionel knew how serious Lex and Clark really were and decided to come after Clark's family just to teach Lex a lesson? It wouldn't be the first time Lionel had taken drastic measures to keep Lex under his thumb.
Stop, Lex scolded himself. He thought of all the times Lionel had lectured him about dealing with trouble when trouble arrives, and not one second sooner.
"Worry is wasteful," he said quietly, repeating one of Lionel's old adages. "Almost as wasteful as love."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, although I can't say I'm surprised."
Lex jumped at the voice behind him and turned to find Jonathan standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping the grease off of a large wrench with a dirty rag. For a split second, Lex thought the grease was blood, and he felt his heart skip several beats in fear for his own life as he concluded that Jonathan must have gone crazy too. But his eyes quit playing their tricks soon enough, and he looked from the greasy rag to Jonathan's curious, though not quite concerned, expression.
"What the hell's the matter with you, Lex? Why are you here?"
Jonathan's voice came out softer than Lex had expected, and Lex figured the fear on his own face had Jonathan feeling uneasy. Lex opened his mouth to speak and Jonathan cut him off, already jumping to his own conclusions.
"Where's Clark! What happened, Lex?"
"Clark is fine!" Lex finally managed. "Don't worry, Clark is fine. He's actually around here somewhere looking for you and his mother."
"Then what is going on?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Martha said a little breathlessly from the front door as she climbed down from Clark's arms and entered the house. "One second I'm working in the garden, and the next I'm being thrown toward the house at light speed!"
"I didn't throw you, Mom, I had a good grip the whole time," Clark corrected defensively.
"Well, a little warning would have been nice," Martha retorted.
"I'm sorry. I guess I was panicked."
"Clark, what is this about?" Jonathan asked.
"Dad, you and Mom could be in danger."
"Danger?" Martha said. "Danger from what?"
"Not from what," Lex interjected. "From whom. My father has completely lost it."
"Tell us something we don't know," Jonathan growled.
"Jonathan--" Martha started, but Jonathan kept going.
"I will not keep quiet, Martha. Lionel hanged that poor woman in the middle of a public restaurant for God's sake! He's sick and demented and he ought to be locked up!"
"I agree with you implicitly, Mr. Kent, and not just because of what happened to Kate."
"Lex, what are you talking about?" Martha asked nervously.
"Lionel's bodyguard was found in a dumpster outside the Talon a couple nights ago," Clark said. "He died of a sharp blow to the head."
"Hold on," Jonathan raised his wrench into the air in confusion. "The same guy Lionel showed up with that night?" Lex nodded. "So you think Lionel killed him?"
"Who else could it have been?" Lex replied.
Martha shook her head. "But that doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that?"
"Simple," Jonathan reasoned. "To cover up his involvement in Kate's death. He let his goon get rid of Kate, and then he had to get rid of his goon."
"I don't think so," Lex said. "Max has been around for years, he would never betray my father. Besides, even if he did, why would my father be stupid enough to kill him and dump his body right outside the Talon where he knew the police could find it?"
Jonathan puzzled for a few seconds but couldn't come up with an answer. "Good point," he said. "So what are you suggesting?"
"Like I said before," Lex answered. "I think my father has gone crazy."
"Lex, are you sure?" Martha asked. "Your father may be a lot of things, but he never struck me as mentally unstable."
"Me neither, but what else could have driven him to this?" Lex put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes, wading through the facts for the millionth time. "It's the only thing that makes sense," he finally said. "Kate was a very dark chapter in my father's past, and seeing her after all this time must have been too much for him."
"Well, that and finding out about you and my son," Jonathan murmured under his breath. "I know I was down for the count after--"
"Knock it off, Dad," Clark warned, shocking Jonathan into silence with his sternness. "We don't have time for this." Jonathan looked away from Clark, stung. Martha was the next to speak.
"So you think Lionel might come after us? Why?"
"I wouldn't presume to know what he's thinking at this point," Lex replied. "But I know that he doesn't approve of my involvement with Clark, and it wouldn't be at all beneath him to come after Clark's family to just to show me he's in control."
"Assuming he's rational enough to think that far ahead," Martha added.
"Right," Lex nodded. "But judging from what's already happened, I think he's a walking time bomb. Who knows when he'll explode again and who will be unlucky enough to be nearby when it happens?"
Martha shivered at the thought. "What should we do?"
Lex looked from Jonathan to Martha hesitantly before answering. He closed his eyes momentarily, as if unable to believe what was about to come out of his mouth. "We need to get you two somewhere safe." He paused and everyone waited for him to continue. "The mansion."
Jonathan immediately began to shake his head. "No. No, no, no, no, no. I refuse."
"Jonathan," Martha pleaded.
"No! If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it right here in my own home."
"Dad, you're not going to die!" Clark shouted.
"Jonathan, please!" Martha put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Listen to Lex. If Lionel is crazy, who knows that he might do?"
"And why on earth should we listen to Lex?" Jonathan spouted, pulling his arm away from Martha's grip. "How do we know he's not in on the whole thing? He's probably just as crazy as his father!"
"Dad!"
"No, Clark, it's okay," Lex said calmly. "Your father's right. Mr. Kent, I've given you absolutely no reason to trust me. I have never once tried to reach out and form any kind of friendship with you, and I have been having a relationship with your son behind your back. You deserve more respect than that, and you have every right to be angry with me."
Jonathan attempted to rebound, but all that came out was a short exhalation. The shock of Lex's speech left Jonathan silently opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, and Lex took the opportunity to keep going.
"The truth is that I love Clark, and I will do anything to keep him safe and happy. And that includes taking care of you and Martha."
A few seconds passed as Jonathan weighed his own pride and anger against the sincerity of Lex's words and the danger of the situation. He seemed on the cusp of an affirmative answer, just waiting for a final push to help him over the ridge.
Martha tugged at his sleeve, and Lex respectfully turned away to allow Clark's parents a private word together. Martha led Jonathan into the kitchen, leaving Lex and Clark in the living room. "We can trust him, Jonathan," she urged softly. "Please. Let him help us."
"How can he possibly help us after all he's put this family through?" Jonathan whispered heatedly.
"None of our troubles are Lex's fault! When are you going to see that? And don't even bother to blame him for this latest development, because Lionel would be crazy with or without Lex and Clark's relationship, and you know it. At least with Lex around, we have a way to be safe."
Jonathan paused to think, wiping a greasy hand over the scruff on his cheeks. "What about the farm?"
"Well," Martha said slowly, "Lex has helped us out with the farm before. Maybe he could send his workers again and--"
"No. That is completely unacceptable."
"We may not have a choice, Jonathan."
"There is always a choice, my dear," Jonathan said sourly. "I've told Lex, and now I'm telling you: I will not let that old bastard scare me off of my own land."
"But if you would just think about it--"
"Martha, I said no! This farm is my home, my livelihood! You know I can't handle the thought of a bunch of LuthorCorp yuppies digging around in my soil."
"Well, maybe I can't handle the thought of being alone!" Martha burst in a shouted whisper.
Jonathan felt the ice around his heart beginning to crack when he saw the panic in his wife's eyes. "Honey--" He reached for her shoulders, and she batted his hands away.
"No, Jonathan, I mean it!" She continued to whisper, trying not to startle the boys in the living room, but her conviction was no less persuasive. "I lost the two most important people in my life once, and I refuse to let that happen again. Do you have any idea what I went through without you and Clark?"
"Yes, actually, I do."
"Then you know," Martha said, furiously wiping a stray hair away from her mouth. "You know why I did everything that I did. You know why I lied to you and to Clark and even to myself. Because the day that Sam Phelan ripped my family away from me, he may as well have ripped my heart out of my chest. But it blew up in my face, didn't it? In the end, I guess it was all for nothing, because you and Clark are suddenly bitter enemies, and you hate me so much you can't even look at me--"
"Martha..."
"And when I think of what Lionel did to that kind, innocent woman . . . I can't go through that again, Jonathan, I just can't lose you! I--I don't think I'd survive."
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Jonathan pulled Martha into his arms, holding her tightly, making a conscious effort to pour every ounce of love he had into her as she breathed heavily against his shoulder.
"Stop now," he whispered at her ear. "Don't you ever think that I hate you. Ever. I love you so much I don't know what to do, and that's why this is all so hard for me."
Martha pulled her face away from Jonathan's chest to look into his eyes. "Jonathan, I'm so sorry."
"Sshh, I know." He pulled her body close to his again, starting to wonder which one of them needed comfort more. "I'm sorry, too."
Eventually, they both noticed the lengthening silence in the living room and decided to put their apologies on hold and return to the matter at hand. "So?" Martha nudged.
Jonathan felt his own stubbornness slowly melting away with every moment, but the reservations were still there. He peeked through the kitchen door just in time to see an innocent, though still passionate, embrace between his son and Lex. Lex closed his eyes tightly, clearly savoring the closeness, and Clark kissed him almost sensuously on the cheek. Jonathan shook his head as his heart started to pound, and he gently removed Martha's arms from around his neck.
"Sweetheart, I can't. I just can't."
"But what if Lionel comes after us?"
"There has to be another way!" he whispered emphatically, gesturing toward the kitchen door.
Martha looked out the door and realized why Jonathan was still so reluctant. "Lex is a part of our lives now, Jonathan. You have to accept that." She took another look at Clark and Lex who were still hugging, and now seemed to be swaying gently, so gently in fact she wasn't sure she really saw it. Her heart filled with love and she returned her attention to her husband with warmth in her eyes. "You have to accept them."
Instead of the bitterness and disgust she had become so accustomed to greeting in Jonathan's face recently, there was an aura of crumbling. At long last Martha found the smallest hint of Jonathan's obduracy falling away.
"I know," he finally whispered, taking another look at his son. His son, who in that single, quiet moment, despite all the madness and despair surrounding him, looked more peaceful and secure and, for lack of a better term, happy than he had in months. Years. Ever, maybe? "I know I do," Jonathan repeated. "But I can't live in the mansion. Please understand. I just can't."
"Jonathan--"
"Martha, it's okay," Lex interrupted, entering the kitchen. Clark followed closely at his heels, bravely grabbing his hand when they came to a stop. If Jonathan noticed, he didn't say anything. Lex looked at Clark warmly, then turned back to Jonathan. "But let me send some men to secure the premise. I promise they'll be discreet. You won't even know they're here."
Martha looked at Jonathan pleadingly, and he finally nodded his consent. Martha released a sigh and kissed Jonathan on the cheek, succeeding in putting a cautiously hopeful smile on Clark's face.
"But," Lex went on, swallowing loudly as his pulse began to race.
"But?" Jonathan prodded.
"Lex, what is it?" Clark asked, squeezing his lover's hand softly.
"I want Clark to live with me."
Clark's felt his chest fill to the point of constriction with a warmth so powerful he thought he would burst. But the feeling was almost immediately replaced with a fearful swarm of butterflies when he received a mental image of Jonathan literally pounding Lex into the ground. Jonathan, however, remained quite still, waiting for Lex to explain.
"My father is unbalanced," Lex said, somehow maintaining his composure through what was easily one of the most difficult moments of his life. "But he's still intelligent. If he, God forbid, were to somehow find out about Clark's secret--"
Jonathan held up a hand to stop Lex from going on as he squeezed his eyes shut in a painful expression of dread. When he opened his eyes, he focused them first on Lex and Clark's connected hands. He then moved his stare to Lex's face. "Can you swear to me that your mansion is safe?" he asked slowly, enunciating each word with agonizing precision.
Lex inhaled quietly, afraid to smile, but feeling the smile forming on his lips anyway. "Yes, sir."
Arms lagging at his sides, shoulders slumped, Jonathan nodded his consent.
"Dad..." Clark began, but no words were sufficient. He came forward slowly and hugged his father. He waited for a moment, frightened when he didn't feel Jonathan returning the affection. But he was relieved when he finally felt Jonathan's arms wrapping around him, reluctantly at first, then gripping powerfully as the remainder of their bitterness toward each other fell away.
"I love you, son," Jonathan said into Clark's shoulder, a rather startling parallel to the exchange between Lex and his own father earlier the same day. Only this time, the moment was pure, the love real, and Lex tried to keep the heartbroken jealousy from coalescing in his stomach.
I don't need Lionel's love, he reminded himself. Clark is my family now.
Clark was his family. And with any luck, now Martha and Jonathan would be too. It still hurt to think of his father, to think that he had been deprived of a real family his whole life, a good and honest family like the Kents. But he managed to push the pain away one more time as he focused on the embrace between Clark and Jonathan, living vicariously just a for a moment, through Clark's happiness.
At last, the Kent men separated from each other. Martha spoke in a voice of quiet happiness, her fear of Lionel temporarily forgotten.
"You should start packing, Clark. I'll go find a bag."
"I'll help," Clark said, and they both went up the stairs.
Jonathan turned to Lex. "Do you have any way of knowing where your father is right now?"
"I spoke to him earlier today," Lex replied. "He said something about leaving the country."
"That figures. Where was he going?"
"I don't know. I can call the airport to see if he's gone yet, but they are under strict orders not to tell me his destination." Jonathan shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "I'll make a few calls and see what I can find out."
While Lex was on the phone, Jonathan went upstairs to see if he could help with anything. Martha and Clark were both in Clark's room hurriedly folding his clothes to put in the suitcase when they heard Lex shout from downstairs.
"No!"
They all ran down to see what had happened. Lex was pacing the floor as he hung up his cell phone and stuck it in his pocket shakily. Clark ran to his side.
"Lex, what is it?"
"Lionel's gone. He just left in his private jet."
"Well, that's good news right?" Clark said. "That means we're safe for now."
"He got the tape." Lex stated.
Clark's face fell. "He..."
"...got the tape," Lex finished. "We left it on the table, Clark. I called Jacob at the mansion, and he told me that Lionel came back. I told Jacob where we left the tape, and he said it wasn't there."
"What tape, Clark? What's going on?" Jonathan asked with an edge in his voice.
"Why didn't Jacob stop him?" Clark asked Lex, ignoring his father as the tone of his own voice grew sharp.
"He was across the garden in his quarters. He didn't know anything was wrong until he saw Lionel's car speeding away.
"Goddamn it," Clark breathed.
"Clark!" Martha said, startled. "Boys, what has happened?"
"Lex, without that tape, we might never be rid of him." Clark's throat constricted bringing his words to just above a whisper.
But Lex didn't respond. His eyes were darting from side to side with panicked indecision. It was almost as if he were reading from an invisible page in front of him, and from the look on his face, the story was taking a turn for the worse. His forehead creased in deep concentration, and he almost seemed to be fighting against himself, warring between the whispering of his conscience and the screaming of his heart. His love. Lex's head shook and the sound of his breathing filled the room as again he began to pace back and forth.
Finally, the war ended. Lex came to a dead stop with his back to Clark, and his arms fell limply to his sides. When Clark turned him around, a frightening resolve had begun to form on his pale face. A dangerous wrath Lex had only shown hints of possessing in the past now began to push his features into a stare so cold that Clark almost didn't recognize him.
"Are you listening?" Clark insisted. "That tape is the only way for us to be safe! We need it to put Lionel away!"
Lex raised his eyes slowly to Clark's, a perfect and deadly calm shining in his bloodshot eyes.
"Maybe not," he said coldly.
Jonathan stepped forward, though not without trepidation. "Lex, I don't like the sound of this. Whatever this tape is, there has to be a way to get it back. Let's not do anything stupid, okay?"
Lex shifted his eyes to Jonathan. "Okay," Lex said with absolutely no feeling whatsoever. Then he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. "Call me when you're packed, Clark. I'll send a car."
With that, Lex was gone. The three Kents stood silently in the living room, unsure of exactly what had just taken place, only knowing that things were about to get worse.