Disclaimer: This fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. See Lex, I'm not a bad girl really...
WHAT ARE LITTLE GIRLS MADE OF?
"Are you looking for your mommy?"
Lex Luthor started suddenly at the sound of the voice. He'd thought that he was all alone, sitting in the middle of a Gotham playground as the wind rustled through the night-time streets. He couldn't settle in his bed, couldn't lie down, couldn't sleep. The memory of his crimes, of his actions while The Parasite had ruled his body were too fresh tonight. So he'd gone for a walk in the evening air, and this was where he'd found himself. Maybe the desire to pound the pavements of America's most dangerous city pointed towards a death wish he had been hitherto unaware of. Certainly sitting on your own in a park in the middle of Gotham seemed suicidal. And yet he was not alone. For standing before him, two blond plaits hanging down by her sides, the tiny tartan pinafore of a school uniform swaying slightly in the breeze, stood a little girl.
Tiny hands, tiny patent leather shoes and white, knee-high socks.
Huge eyes, big as saucers, staring into his as if she could read his thoughts.
"Are you looking for your mommy?" she asked again, fingers clutching at a little white rabbit in her left hand, twisting it in nervousness. She shifted weight from one foot to the other, leaving a miniscule scuff on the shiny surface of her right shoe. The pale light of a full moon whispered down on the streets of Gotham, silvery and wan as a ghost.
She had a Saint Christopher Medal pinned to her chest, and there were green ribbons in her hair. Green like Kansas, green like the meteor rocks. Green like the emeralds his mother used to wear around her neck.
His mother… Ah yes: her question. Are you looking for your mommy? Always, kid, he could have told her. I'm always looking for her and I'll never find her. Never find her in Martha Kent's front yard, or Clark's loft. Won't find her in Lana's arms, or in her grace either. The closest I'll get is in Chloe Sullivan's disgust when she looks at me. But yeah, kid, I'm looking for my mommy.
Instead he said "No, my mom went away a long time ago." She cocked her head but said nothing, eyes still wide, searching. Despite himself, Lex felt a little uncomfortable under such open scrutiny. "Do you know where your mommy is?" he asked, trying to break the moment, trying to shake off a sudden chill.
The little girl nodded, certain and earnest as all little girls are. "She's sleeping. Like a princess!" And the little one giggled, her merry laugh twinkling against the hard metallic sound of night in this Dark City.
Lex softened his voice. "Won't she be worried if she finds you out of bed?"
Again, the certain, earnest shake of the head. "No! Mommy likes it when I go out to play."
"But maybe she wouldn't like you being outside so late at night, honey." Lex didn't even want to imagine what could happen to this pretty little child on the streets of Gotham on a night like this. She was lucky that he was the only monster she'd run into. An unwilling monster maybe, but a monster nonetheless.
"I don't care what Clark says Lex! It was the Parasite talking, using you like a puppet-"
He shook away the sound of Lana's voice.
"I still love you, Alexander. I won't abandon you."
He shook away the knowledge that she should have, and he should have made her.
The child was before him, the monster within.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked coaxingly, not wanting to alarm her. "Can you tell me where you live?"
"But I don't want to go home yet!" She pouted, stamped her feet slightly. She couldn't have been more than ten. "I'm not finished playing!"
Lex considered picking her up and dragging her to the nearest police station, but if she screamed- He was in enough trouble since the minor Apocalypse his body had presided over. He would just have to persuade her. "Okay, you're not finished playing yet, I get that. But can you tell me about yourself?" He glanced around, picked up a twig from the bench beside him and handed it to her. "Here you go, sweetie, talk into the microphone."
She giggled again, delighted, and he realised he was making progress. "My name is Harleen Victoria Quinzel and I am nine and three quarters!" She sounded so proud. "And I like horses, and the circus, and going to gymnastics, and when I grow up I'm going to marry a prince!"
"You're sure you want to marry a prince?" he asked before he could stop himself. A prince had gotten him into the hellish mess he'd been sitting on this bench trying to escape from. Two princes, both alike in dignity. Both lying, conniving deceivers. The House of El started this long ago…
"Yes, of course I'm sure!" the little one dragged him back to the present. She scrunched up her nose in thought. "I see him, sometimes, when I sleep. He's tall, and he has big green eyes and snow white skin, and he's always happy to see me." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "And when I see all the fun we'll have, I can't wait to grow up!"
"It's not all it's cracked up to be, kid," he muttered.
She frowned, puzzled. "But it is. When I'm grown up I can go away to school, and play anytime I want to."
"If you say so."
Again she cocked her head and took a deep breath, like she was screwing up the courage to say something. "Are you sad because you can't find your mommy?" she asked shyly. Lex smiled mirthlessly: he was being cross-examined by a child. Was that all this great cosmic battle really boiled down to? A little bald-headed boy still looking for his mom? Shyly she held out her bunny to him. "You can hold Forget-Me-Not if you want. She'll make you feel better. Do you want her?"
Best to play along, see if you can get her walking Lex. He nodded wordlessly, holding out his hand for the stuffed animal.
Harleen placed it solemnly in his hand. It was wet and cold, and suddenly-
Suddenly Lex felt it, the knitted-together meat and bones beneath his fingers, the feeling that one only gets when one holds something that was once alive. The limp head rolled back, and he felt sticky brown blood on his hands. The fur was matted with it, the eyes burnt out. In horror he looked at the little girl.
Her lip trembled; she looked like she was going to burst into tears. "You're not allowed to be mad!" she wailed, stamping her feet. "I just wanted to find out how it worked! I wanted to find out how it worked, and it's not my fault I can't make it work again, I'm not ten yet!" She began to rock on her heels, hot wet tears bubbling from her eyes. "Once I'm ten I'm sure I'll be soooo much more grown up and then I can work it out!"
Lex looked at her very seriously now, very straight. He's never really understood the phrase someone walking over my grave before tonight. "Harleen," he asked carefully "Where's your mommy?"
She began to keen ever so softly, twirling one of her plaits savagely, the hot runny tears falling on those shiny shoes. "She's asleep."
"Where?" And that was his scary voice, the one he hadn't used since… since the night Metropolis burned. "Where is she sleeping?"
"With my Uncle Freddy, in Arkham. She says she feels safe there. She makes me stay there." The pout, the frown, grew more pronounced. "She makes me stay there, and they won't let me play. I'm only nine and three quarters and they won't let me play. And it's not fair!"
Suffer the little children to come unto me…
"Are you going to make me go back there?"
Lex felt his flesh creeping. "Yes, Harleen, you're going back there. I'll take you, I'll just get the car. Come with me-"
He picked her up just as his cell went off. He fished it out of his pocket, and winced when he saw Lana's name appear on the screen. God he hoped this wouldn't be another argument. "Lana?"
"Lex!" he could hear the worry in her voice, "Lex, is that you? Is something wrong?" He'd scared her. "Lex, please come home. Come back to bed-"
"I will Lana," he began (he'd probably never be so glad to curl up beside her as he would be tonight) "I promise I will, I just have an errand to run first and then I'll be home, ok?" he squeezed his eyes shut, willing her to understand.
"Sure." Monosyllabic. Lana doing monosyllabic wasn't good. But he'd deal with it when he got home.
The call ended, she'd hung up. She was pissed. Harleen was staring at his screen-saver. It was a photo of him and Lana on their first date. It was his favourite picture, and the phone was the only one he kept with him at all times so he'd put it on as a screen-saver. Sentimental perhaps, but then nobody knew about it except him, Lana and now a nine year old girl. "She's very pretty," the little one said.
"She is." Get her to the car, get her to the car, get her to the car…
"You don't understand how she works." It was a statement, not a question. "We can try to find out, if you want." She smiled shyly, like a little kid. "We could play with her: it'd be fun."
For one split second Lex considered smashing her brains against the pavement. Anything to keep his Lana safe. But that was the Parasite talking; it had to be the Parasite talking, didn't it? He forced his voice to speak steadily. "She wouldn't like to play."
"Isn't she any fun?"
"No!" he said sharply.
Harleen muttered something mutinously under her breath. It sounded suspiciously like "I want to play with her NOW!" but he couldn't be sure.
They were nearly in the car. Apparently she hadn't yet realised how much power she held over him. It was just as well. One scream and the neighbours probably would've torn him to shreds. People were funny about children. Even in Gotham, where the monsters came to play.
Where the monsters wore their hair in plaits and had shiny leather shoes.
He tucked the monster in and fastened her seat-belt. The crying had apparently tired her out, her eyes were drooping shut, the long lashes wet with tears. He had trouble watching the road on the drive to Arkham; he was terrified to take his eyes from her.
The monster was before him, the child within.
He handed her over to the wild-eyed resident psychiatrist. The man didn't even ask any questions, just raised his eyebrows, blood-shot eyes boring into Lex's. "She wanted to play," he said simply to the unspoken question. Then he handed the Doctor her rabbit. He turned to go.
She opened her eyes drowsily, giving a slight yawn. "Mr." she called.
Again he forced his voice to remain steady. "Yes Harleen?"
"What's your name?"
"Alexander."
"Will you come and play with me again, Alexander?" The face looked so innocent, so near sleep.
"No, Harleen." He turned to walk away. But he felt, rather than saw, her smile. And he certainly heard her next words.
"Oh yes you will." She was drifting off to sleep. "Some day, we're going to have so much fun together."
He didn't speak as he climbed into bed, didn't ask permission, didn't walk on egg-shells as he had every day since he'd regained his body. He just wrapped his arms around Lana and squeezed so tightly she thought he might crack a couple of ribs. He hooked his long legs against hers, buried his head in the crook of her neck as if he were trying to climb inside her warmth, as if the outer world was contaminated. He felt her worried frown, but she said nothing, seeming to understand that he just needed silence and her presence. Just needed her.
Tomorrow they would talk about it, before they visited Bruce. Tea and sympathy would be doled out on the anniversary of the Waynes' death, and Lex would play the role of dutiful friend.
But it is a curious fact to report that after that one trip to see his young protégé, Lex Luthor never set foot in Gotham City again.
Of course, they have playgrounds in Metropolis too.
A/NHope you liked it, review if you did:-P