Chapter 31 - Making Amends

The first item on the list was one that his father had set as a rule for him long ago. Eating three full meals a day, and getting at least seven hours of sleep. His parents had made it very clear that he wasn't going to be as effective at anything else if he wasn't taking care of himself, and he was starting to learn that they might be right.

The darkness hadn't bothered with those kinds of trivialities. He had mostly convinced his parents that he was, but he would stay awake late into the night working on his laptop, he would skip lunch at work, he would grab a bagel on the way out of the house and throw it away. Lex wasn't even sure why. He would have thought of his other side as selfish, except that he didn't seem to care anymore about himself than anyone else. His mom had a point; he really wasn't sure what that side of him wanted.

That aside to satisfy his parents, though, the most urgent item on his list was figuring out what was going on with his lab.

This one was a little trickier. He had been disoriented when he first arrived back at the farmhouse, and he hadn't thought to check in as soon as the darkness escaped. He should have. When he got to the lab, he found that everything was cleared out. All of the equipment, all of the research scientists, all of the test subjects. He tried to call the members of his team, both those he had worked with while the darkness was in documents and ones he had had before, and none of them picked up the phone. Most of their numbers had been changed. And obviously, there was no hope of getting in contact with his darker side.

That set him on course with his next item of business: finding his darkness. If he knew himself, he knew that he wouldn't be caught with the illegal research subjects. Some of the biomedical findings might make their way to the market, but technically speaking, those were good things, even if his darknesses motives and methods were terrible. He may or may not make himself public, though — he might keep to the shadows if he knew there was another version of himself running around. Lex was likely to do the same thing.

He hired two investigators, and he put Clark on the case, also, along with a stern reminder to be very careful. Clarks methods involved more brute force, physically searching city after city, town after town, even state after state. The other investigators did more searching into records and databases, trying to find any evidence of his activity. He kept the full truth on the down low rather than explaining it to them, but he was also paying them enough for them to keep silent about the very strange assignment he'd put them on to investigate himself.

He kept in contact with them constantly. He hired more people. But eventually he had to know when he was beaten. He would know where his other side was when he came into attack. The best thing Lex could have done if he really wanted to find him was to put out some sort of bait; he wasn't going to do that.

However, he did set up some safety measures. He hired some security guards who required him to give certain changing passwords, randomly determined, when he entered the farm property. He set passcodes with his family as well, references to things they'd done together in the hours and days and weeks since the darkness had been gone. And he put a watch out in the biomedical community for certain developments that he expected might come of the kryptonite research. It wasn't a quick fix, nor a total solution, but it kept his family safe while he was working on stopping his other self from doing some thing worse.

The next item on the list was getting in contact with Lana.

She had taken him up on his offer before the summer, and she had spent a few months in Paris. She was back now, though, and he was sure she would have questions about the Talon. He hadn't actually done anything with it yet; it has never been a great investment financially, but his darker side was always OK with it because of the good PR, and working with Lana was nice. She was surprisingly creative, unrelentingly honest, and she actually appreciated his efforts and contributions beyond his financial help.

Phone calls with many of his upper level employees were in order. To his knowledge, he hadn't terribly offended any of them, but he definitely hadn't been treating them as well as he would want to. It wasn't bad enough to warrant apologies, but it was enough to warrant thank you's.

He spent a lot of time on that. Weeks passed. He told himself it was because it was important, and that was true, but the fact was, he was avoiding the last item on his list, the item his dad didn't really understand but his mom told him to keep on there.

The moment he had fired the gun that had killed Lionel, the darkness had taken over. He hadn't had a moment to process that death, that loss. And no matter how much better off he was with that particular influence out of his life, it needed to be processed.

He needed to visit his biological father's grave.

His dad didn't say anything to protest it, but it was written all over his face. The day Lex chose to actually do it, though, he did ask, "Are you sure you're going to be OK, son?"

"This is something I need to do," he said simply.

His dad rubbed the back of his neck. "OK. Let me go with you."

Lex didn't know how to explain why he couldn't do that. Having Jonathan Kent as his father filled a gap he'd had for so long, most days he hadn't even processed the pain of what he hadn't had. And this was a time when he needed to reflect on what he had lost, not what he had gained to fill its place. Aside from that, he really didn't think it was a good idea for the person who had probably hated Lionel the most to visit his graveside. It wouldn't be good for his dad, and it wouldn't be helpful for Lex to have him there, either. Lex wouldn't be able to think about anything else.

Instead, he just said, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Son, I don't know how I feel about you going there by yourself."

"Dad…"

"At least have your mother drive you there."

Lex took a deep breath. His dad was compromising; he should do the same. "OK," he said.


He wore black, but it wasn't his best suit, just some thing ordinary.

His mom drove him, and she remained within the site line of the grave stone, but she stayed in the car.

Lex carried no flowers, no notes for a eulogy, nothing to leave behind. Just himself.

He stood before the grave. It was a lot simpler than his mother's, because Lex's dark side had set it up, and he hadn't given Lionel a lot of honor.

He approached the gravestone slowly, almost hesitantly, like it was a snake that might strike at any moment. He didn't believe in ghosts, at least not typically — he'd seen kryptonite do a lot of crazy things – but his hesitance was more about what he wanted to say than anything else.

"Hi, Dad."

He almost corrected himself. Lionel wasn't his father anymore. And yet, in this moment, he wasn't mourning some stranger he had disowned. He was mourning a man he had loved for many years.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know those words are pretty weak now, and you never liked to hear them, but… I never thought things would be like this."

To his horror, his voice cracked on those last few words. He looked around; no one was nearby to hear.

"I remember this time when I was… I guess I was eight or nine, and you took me to that air and space Museum. You knew I loved to see things fly." He sniffed. "I don't… I don't know if that's why you took me or not, but… I always thought… maybe some part of you did love me. Someday, I would be enough for you. I would make you proud. I would… I'd earn your love…"

His eyes prickled.

"I loved you. I knew what people thought of you, and I knew what they meant when they said that I was going to be just like you, and I spent all my time trying to convince them I wasn't, but for so long, I did want to be just like you. You weren't afraid of anything, you could do anything, you could…"

He hung his head and took a couple of deep breaths.

"But you couldn't love me. You couldn't be proud of me. Why couldn't you… What was I missing, what did I do wrong…"

The tears were pouring down his face now.

"If you were still here, I would find a way… I would never stop…" He shook his head. "No. I would never find it, you would never love me, no matter what I did." He let out a couple of sobs. "I guess I'll never know," he whispered.

A few moments later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. For a moment he ignored it, and then he turned to melt into his mother's arms.

"Let's get you home," she said softly, and she guided him back to the car.

His dad, his real dad, was waiting for him when they got there. He came over to him as soon as he walked in the front door. "How did it go?"

Lex didn't say anything.

His dad nodded. "Did you get what you needed?"

He breathed in to say no. This hadn't been about getting anything he needed; it was about coming to terms with the fact that he never would.

"Lex?"

Lex looked his father in the eyes. He looked so concerned, so attentive. Worry and care overflowed from the lines on his face, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. It was the same voice that had told him, so many times, that he was proud of him, that he believed in him, that he loved him…

Finally, Lex swallowed against the tightness of his throat. "Yes," he said quietly. "I got what I needed."

His dad looked at him curiously, but he didn't ask him to explain. "Okay," he said, nodding. He paused for a moment, then added, "I'm proud of you, you know."

It never failed. The words he had needed so much from his biological father hit him every time, right where it hurt him and built him up all at once. "I know," he managed to say, and he stepped into his father's arms.

His dad didn't even hesitate to pull him in tight. "Hey, it's okay, son," he whispered. "I'm here."

"I know," Lex said, and he held on even tighter.