Alone again in the mansion, Lex walks towards the glass shelves in his study, stopping in front of the small framed painting Audrey gave to him. In a simple motion, he gently drapes the chain over the art, allowing his finger to caress the glass as he pulls his hand away.
He often showered his conquests with diamonds; jewelry that is valuable in every way but sentimentally. Yet, one, and only one, had touched him enough to share the one priceless piece of jewelry he owned. A simple chain with a tiny rose charm that barely was worth what he spent on a night out was the biggest gift he had ever given, for it symbolized him giving her his heart.
As a child he often played with the necklace, looping it around his finger, holding the charm as he laid in his mother's arms. Just before she died she slid it off her neck and laid it in his hands, clasping it closed with her fragile fingers.
"One day when you fall in love you can give this to your beloved. The woman who wears this will never want for roses, for she will always have this one close to her heart, and you there to tend to it," she whispered upon his innocent ears.
Back at his desk, he opens back up the file which he concealed when Martha came in. His finger glides down the document, stopping above the information he had been seeking. He didn't think he had any more to lose. He lost his mother, Audrey, so many priceless memories, but now it seems he has lost much more. He had lost his future.
Audrey's medical records lay before him, obtained in the usual Luthor fashion. Lex was certain that when he regained his memory, that his past with Audrey would fit together like a puzzle, and lying before him is the final, big piece; the presumptive cause of Audrey's death.
No pills. No evil dark deed. Nothing fatal inflicted by Luthor hands, or her own. No, like a gentle breath upon a candle, the light of her life was blown out. The very one whose gentle movements saved her just the night before, in time came to stop her heart from fighting.
The papers rain down to the ground. Lex, stunned, is forced to grab onto his desk to keep from falling. Audrey had been pregnant. That's why she had been hiding from him, to protect her child; their child. She had fought to protect it from Lionel, for fear that Lionel would do the same to the child as he had done to Lex.
Lex hadn't lost his future, his father had stolen it from him.
Lex contemplates throwing the contents of his desk to the floor or smashing the furniture in the room. But, how will that help? How would that release the anger and frustration welling up inside him? He needs more.
Lex knows that Lionel erased his memory to eradicate knowledge that he feared. That knowledge is the only weapon Lex could use to inflict the pain he needs to upon his father.
Above all else, in whatever way possible, Lex has to get that knowledge back.
X x X x X
Finally, the warm glow of the porch light welcomes Martha home. She finds it funny how, in times like this, the details become so vivid. She has grabbed the doorknob to her home so often, doing so is reflexive, an act she doesn't even think about. But, today, she can't help but appreciate the simplicity.
Entering through the porch door, she sees Clark waiting for her at the kitchen table clutching a glass of cold milk.
Setting down her purse on the counter, she goes to him, kissing him upon his head, comforting him with her touch.
She had already pondered what words she should speak to him first. She knew he would have too many questions that she might not have answers to. Death is such a difficult concept for an ordinary person to comprehend; the finality of it seeming almost difficult to grasp, and painful to try to.
Martha aches at seeing her powerful son reduced to a defeated boy, his large frame slumped over, his head hanging down. She knows Clark Kent is far from ordinary; for the hardest things for one to endure are doubly so for him.
"Why couldn't I have been there? Maybe I could've-" Clark says desperately, his words quickly silenced by his mother.
"There was nothing you could have done," Martha says, having to tell him that which is still hard to grasp herself. "There's nothing anyone could've done. What happened to her was a completely natural thing, something that sadly happens everyday."
"What are you saying?"
"Clark, people are going to die. Eventually, ones you love. Even me and your father. We're fragile, and we break. Although you can do all of the things you do, and you have all of the powers you have, you can't change that."
"But, I'm unbreakable," Clark tries desperately to grasp the issues. "I'm not human."
"That's not true," she says, making sure he hears her next words, grasping his hands tightly into her own. "Your skin may be impenetrable, but Clark, your heart can feel that which is most important."
Lifting his hand, and holding it close to his chest, she says, "Feel that? It's your heart, your human heart and it's aching just like the one inside me. They call it heartache because that's what it is. An aching down inside that reminds us how precious life is, and how we should treasure each moment we are blessed to receive," her tender words soothe him, as her sweet eyes gaze into his.
"This grief you have is because your heart is broken. I raised you to always listen to your heart, Clark. Today it may feel as though you will never feel anything but heartache, but I promise you there will be a day it with skip a beat with the joy of love."
Clark had spent most of the evening replaying his father carrying Audrey in from the field, her still body cradled in his arms. He remembered every feeling and every thought he had. He believed his father was the strongest person on earth. Now, looking into his mothers unwavering eyes, it's apparent to him he was wrong. Although she hides it beneath a delicate exterior, he can see his mother possesses strength equally as great.
X x X x X
Clark fell asleep quickly on the couch, his discussion with his mother seeming to ease some of his pain, thus allowing him some much needed rest. The day had been a long one, and everyone knew the next ones ahead would be equally difficult. Martha made him up a bed in the living room, thinking it best that she tidy up his room, the room where Audrey last slept, of all of her private things before everything began to fall back to normal in the Kent house.
Watching him sleep peacefully takes one thing off Martha's list of worries. Carefully tucking the quilt around him, he repositions his head further into the down pillow. Leaning down she gently kisses him on the forehead, turning down the light as she leaves the room.
Walking up the stairs her eyes catch the numerous pictures of her family in the frames that grace the walls. Their smiles remind her of how precious life is. Looking into a picture of Clark, his wide smile beaming, she can't help but think how blessed she is to have found him. Her mind begins to picture the walls of the Luthor mansion. There were no pictures in frames, no portraits of a family. So many countless priceless artifacts, but not a single picture showing Lex in a happier time. Not one image of Lex and Lionel together. Not even an early print of Lillian with her son. There was absolutely no evidence that a family ever existed there, and this sad realization makes Martha's heart hurt more.
X x X x X
Jonathan's nasally snore seems almost like a serenade as she quietly opens the door to her bedroom. It's comforting to hear him sleeping so soundly.
Moving towards the bed she can see his mud covered boots sitting on the floor, leaving their mark on her ivory rug. Any other night this action would land him on the opposite end of Martha's wrath, but this night she only sees it as one of the lovely signatures of the man she loves.
Going to his bedside, she adjusts the sheet up around him. As he lays on his side snuggling the pillow that belongs to her, she feels a wave of emotion flow through her. How lucky she is to have this amazing and handsome man by her side.
She leans down to kiss him, gently brushing her soft cheek against his rough stubble. As she rises back up, she tenderly strokes her hand through his dirty blonde hair. "I love you," she whispers upon sleeping ears.
Leaving the room, she slides open her chest of drawers, taking out Lex's painting from Belle Reve. She tucks it beneath her blouse, turning back to gaze upon her beloved once more, then softly closes the door behind her.
Coming back down the hallway, she pauses in front of Clark's room. Unable to fight the urge to go in, she enters, switching on the bedside lamp. There on the table remain the elaborate bouquet of white roses Lex sent to Audrey, although now they seem to display what Martha is feeling inside. Their once strong stems are now weak, so they curl and bend. The beautiful blooms seem to have lost their innocence, now brown and bruised. Her eyes move to the bed, seeing Audrey's nightgown neatly folded on the pillow. Martha's hand slides across the feminine satin gown, rubbing the tiny pearls and ribbon with her fingers. The gentle spirit who dwelled here briefly seems to still be present in the room. Martha holds her own arms against the chill, as she fights against the lump that develops in the back of her throat.
Martha slips down the stairs, careful not to wake Clark, she
checks on him once more. All is peaceful for a moment, so she quietly slides out the back door.
Clasping her hands between her knees, she takes a seat on the top step of the porch still wet from the earlier storm. Aiming her gaze towards the stars, she tries to find comfort in the endless possibilities of the universe. Comfort is hard to find there, though. The only thought that comforts her mind is that her son sleeps peacefully on the couch, and her husband snores in bed.
Holding out the rolled painting that Audrey entrusted her with, Martha strikes a match against the wooden porch door, igniting a flicker of light in the darkness. Holding it to the heavy parchment paper, the piece is quickly engulfed in an orange glow of heat. As the piece is reduced to ash, the night breeze carries it away, scattering Lex's possible destiny to the wind. She hopes that doing so will give him an opportunity to forge a new path of his own choosing, not Lionel's.
Martha shuts her eyes allowing the crickets' symphony to consume her ears, and she gives in to the peacefulness of a Smallvile night. Her loved ones are safe. The house is quiet, and suddenly she realizes there is no one left for her to take care of; no one left to comfort or console.
Finally able to take a moment for herself, she begins to feel the burden of her loss. What Audrey had meant to her could never be erased by a flickering flame. Audrey had paid the greatest compliment one could to a mother; she believed in Martha's son.
Hidden away from the eyes of Jonathan and Clark, she lets go of her tears, and grieves her lost friend.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x
The End
Author Note: I will be posting a final chapter--the epilogue to this story within the next week. Thank you so very much for sticking with this fic. All of your comments have truly touched me--and I cannot thank you enough for all of your feedback. :) I continue to write because of people like you--so from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. Jennifer