Chapter 5 - New Day

The first few weeks of living with the Kents after moving back to Metropolis had been slow. Lionel's funeral had taken a lot out of Lex. Quite a bit more than he was expecting, in fact. He suspected it had a lot to do with his weakness, the voice in his head that was still a part of him no matter how hard he tried to push it back. It grieved, and Lex had to feel the pain.

It was imbecilic. The old man had meant nothing to him. That was the one thing on which the two sides of him actually agreed. He himself wanted nothing more than to stick it to the bastard; his weaker side wanted his father to love him or be proud of him or something, but that was a lost cause, so he lashed out. That meant they were on the same page most of the time, with regards to Lionel.

Still, Lionel's death meant the end of an era. It meant Lex would never, ever be loved by the man. He didn't care, but the side of him that did wanted to talk it out with the Kents and probably cry. To talk about his feelings, like Lana Lang whining about her dead parents every other day for her entire life.

If that side of Lex really did want to honor the old man, that was about the worst way he could do it.

Meanwhile, Lex couldn't really work for those first few weeks. He couldn't make any productive conversation with the Kents, not without leading them to be convinced he was in an even worse state than he was in, causing them to think they needed to "parent" him even more or for even longer than they were already planning—not to mention discouraging them from sharing any real, useful information with him. They, too, seemed to be in a fragile state; Clark slept next door to Lex, and he kept waking Lex up with his nightmares. It was enough to drive anyone mad. If Clark hadn't so obviously had such powerful secrets, Lex would have been begging his other side to abandon the kid years ago.

Clark was a harmless farm boy—for now. But Lex had seen his speed, felt his strength, heard his lies. He knew what power could do to a person's mind, what power always did to a person's mind. In a few years, Clark would be anything but harmless. Left unchecked, he could and would become a tyrant.

Lex was the only one who could do anything about it. He could keep an eye on the kid, stay close to the family. Learn everything he could about Kryptonite and about those mutations, about Clark's species and about the power stones. Amass his own power quietly, now that he was out from under Lionel Luthor's thumb. He would never have what his weaker side wanted, but that didn't matter. Family and friends only ever died or betrayed him, anyway. Alone, without those constraints, he could be something.

Having made up his mind about all of this, Lex woke up with a renewed motivation. He was slowly recovering from the past few weeks, and what's more, he finally had moral justification to do what he'd been wanting to do for years, now.

Today was going to be a good day.

He went down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and found Jonathan Kent with his own mug. He gave Lex a light smile. "Morning, son."

The last thing Lex wanted to do was to isolate himself from the Kents. They were far too useful for that. But he couldn't bring himself to call Jonathan Dad, no matter how much the weaker side of himself wanted him to. "Morning. Any coffee left?"

"Should be a cup left in the pot. You going into the plant this morning?"

"Yeah, I think it's time."

Jonathan nodded slowly. "Listen, ah, son, there's no rush, but . . . I was thinking, when you're up to it, we could really use your help around the farm."

Lex bit back comments about how Clark's powers should have been all the advantage they needed. He knew it didn't quite work that way. But the last thing he wanted to do was spend his mornings doing farm work. "I'm pretty behind at the plant, and I'm running all of LuthorCorp now—"

"Oh, no, of course, I'm sorry. No pressure, son."

Lex smirked when Jonathan wasn't looking.

"They're just going to keep asking you about this."

Lex's smile fell. He hated it when his weak side had a point. But if it was about to suggest he get his hands dirty, out in the hay and manure . . .

"Write him a check for a part time farm hand."

Lex sighed and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket. "I know you don't like accepting gifts," he said, "but you're just going to have to put up with this one." He handed over a check with a respectable number of zeroes.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed when he saw it.

"For a part time farm hand," Lex said.

"I, uh . . . it's very generous, son, but . . ." He seemed to be having a hard time wording his thoughts.

Lex breathed in to insist he accept, but his weaker side chimed in, "He was hoping to use this as a chance to spend some time with you."

Well, that wasn't happening. Painting the bedroom had been more than enough quality time through menial work. Lex had already spent the weekend hanging around the Kents, even trying to make conversation with some of them, to avoid suspicion. They wouldn't like it if he only visited with Clark when he was experimenting on him, and if he kept hanging out in his room, they'd keep pushing him into awkward "family" activities. Better to make idle conversation at dinner time and be released as soon as the plates were cleared, than to retreat into his own mind and be pressured into stick around after for games or movies or conversation. His weaker side pestered him to no end while he was hiding away in his room, but it was better than Martha Kent trying to mother him. That was the last thing he wanted.

But farm work? That was beyond the line. He was not doing that. "I've got to run," he said, walking over to the pot of coffee.

"Hang on. What's our rule about breakfast?"

Lex almost groaned aloud. He'd almost managed to forget.

"I know it's not part of your usual routine, but I think it'll be good for you."

"Fine. Fine." He went to the pantry and pulled out a bagel. "Happy?"

"Lex," Jonathan chided. "It's been a rough time, I get it, but . . . the attitude. You know that's not acceptable in this house."

Lex's insides boiled, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. It was for the greater good. "I'm sorry. You're right, of course. You'll have to forgive me, I'm a bit overwhelmed."

"You're always forgiven, but, uh, you sure you're ready to go into work?"

"I think I'll only get more stressed if I don't."

"Okay. Come here."

Lex gave Jonathan a curious look and took a step closer to the man.

Jonathan put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you. I love you. And you don't have to prove anything, to me or to anyone."

Lex was utterly unprepared for the flood of discomfort that followed that speech. It brought him back to a time when he'd desperately craved those words from Lionel, but aside from the fact that the words meant nothing coming from this nobody farmer, the encouragement wasn't even for him. It was for his other side. Still, he made himself smile. "Thanks."

Jonathan gave him a couple of pats on the shoulder. Lex picked up his thermos, bagel, and briefcase, and he left the house.

Lex didn't go directly to the plant. He stopped by the mansion first to get a start on a few personal projects, the ones Clark had encouraged him to pursue. The first thing he did was to schedule a flight to Egypt for the following morning. If he was going to seek out those power stones, it was best he got started, before anyone else caught wind of them.

His next order of business was to check in with the lab about Clark's blood. The lab that Lex's father had been employing to run tests to try to use Clark's platelets to revive people had never really stopped their work. When Lex sent over the sample of Clark's blood, they immediately resumed their research under his direction—whether Lex or Lionel was at the helm, they didn't really care, so long as they were still being paid.

They did ask if he could get some marrow, though, saying it would propel their research along. Lex told them he would do what he could. Marrow transplants were painful even for humans; his weakness shouted at him, forbidding him to hurt Clark so badly, but that almost made him want to do it more. Clark would be so earnest and willing, so convinced he was helping people. Wielding that kind of control was exhilarating.

Once those tasks were done, he made his way over to the plant, if only for a few hours. He was counting on wrapping up his catch-up work at the plant today by delegating a fair amount of the work to other employees. Even his weaker side agreed about that, though he would have used the extra time for pointless pastimes. Like farm work.

A little after lunchtime, there was a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called.

The door opened, and Gabe Sullivan stepped inside.

Lex smiled and stood from his desk. "Gabe," he said. "Just the man I wanted to see."