It had been six weeks of stagnation after being 'let go' from Metropolis State Penitentiary, six weeks of self-insulation from the news about Lex Luthor being deemed mentally incapable of reasonably deducing the gravity of his actions, then somehow deemed capable to continue leading LexCorp. Because, his attorneys had reasoned, his mental illness was a disability, and he could not be discriminated against because of it.
He had then, according to the news, spent a few weeks in an intensive program at the Arkham Asylum - a discovery which left Claire Branigan more than a little uneasy - and then been discharged home.
Discharged home. He had contributed to nearly burning Metropolis and Gotham both to the ground, and after all of it, he was back home. This was the society they operated within. These were the breaks. Claire wasn't sure if this was what she would have considered justice, but it hardly mattered.
Last night, however, she had received a phone call as promised from the nursing agency which she had been directed toward, and received her first assignment. It was as simple as the Bat had outlined for her so clearly, over a month prior, and this was in and of itself a surprise. It seemed more reasonable that all of these outlandish plans had just been a figment of her fatigue-addled imagination. And yet, here she was. This was real. things had fallen into place just as the man in the mask had assured, and yet Claire wasn't sure how much trust could be placed in him.
Claire Branigan was now en route to Luthor Mansion, clad in a new pair of scrubs. He'll be expecting you, the manager had told her over the phone. Claire would willingly admit that she wasn't sure if being expected was a good thing or a bad thing.
So instead of entertaining her doubts, because they were so numerous, she simply pulled her car into the driveway and glanced around. Her first observation was that this was not the same Luthor Mansion that was so frequently photographed in newspapers and magazines - it had fallen into disarray, and clearly had no one else working in it at the moment. Rolling her shoulders and forcing a few full breaths into her lungs, she walked up to the front door and knocked. No response.
She knocked again. No response.
She rang the doorbell.
By now, she could not help a sense of annoyance and groaned slightly before knocking again, a little harder than before, and calling out, "Mister Luthor, are you in there?"
And then, faintly, there was a sound that she could only hear because she had her ear pressed to the door - she took a step back as the footsteps drew closer and stopped. There was a brief pause, no doubt a moment of peering through the peephole to verify the identity of his visitor, before the door opened to reveal Lex Luthor - not in prison orange, but in corduroy slacks and a dark blue blazer over a t-shirt, bearing a smirk on his face as he greeted the new arrival to his home.
"Nurse Claire. Claire Branigan," he said, now seeing her new nametag on her scrubs, which bore her last name for the first time. "Well, isn't this just serendipitous? They'd told me you'd been let go from good old Metropolis State Pen - I told you, you were being far too nice to me and they'd never stand for it," he rambled rapidly before gesturing grandiosely for her to come in. "Come in, come in. Step inside my parlor."
"Said the spider to the fly," Claire muttered to herself as she followed him inside - he paused upon hearing her and cocked his head to one side, wagging his index finger in her direction.
"Clever," he said simply, grinning wolfishly at the prospect of finally having company worth toying with - company he could be reasonably entertained by. The spider to the fly indeed. "I do like them clever."
The disarray on the outside of the manor matched the inside, which, while not filthy, was slightly dissheveled and a bit dustier than she would have expected. Lex stopped and followed Claire's gaze around the house and shrugged. "My staff has yet to return," he explained simply. "But I'm very sure they will. Once anyone sees they've worked for big, bad Mister Luthor, I doubt anyone else would employ them. They'll be back."
"Mm," Claire said noncommitally, breaking the extended eye contact with him and adjusting the messenger bag that carried her supplies, reaching into the bag to pull out a packet of papers. "The report from my agency says that you were discharged from Arkham with some medications, so if I could see those..."
"All business, always," Lex chuckled, cocking his head to one side and continuing to scrutinize the woman in front of him - Claire had the impression now that he simply found pleasure in being completely unnerving. Something else that did not evade her notice, however, was the slight shudder that she saw in him when she had mentioned Arkham. She had not expected his memories of the institution to be fond by any means, but this confirmed that whatever had happened in those walls had not left him unaffected. Anyone who had ever set foot in Gotham for long enough knew the name of Arkham Asylum, and, if they were of sound mind, reasonably feared it. "I keep them in the guest bathroom. Follow me," he said coolly, turning on his heel.
Claire took great care not to let it become obvious she was struggle to keep up with his steps, which were as quickly paced as his speech. Slightly winded as they reached the door to the guest suite, or rather one of many guest suites in the mansion, she followed him through the door and allowed him to line the medicine bottles up alongside the sink, from which she picked them up one by one to examine them.
"I suppose I should disclose to you that I don't plan on taking them. Any of them. Except these - I grew fond of them," he said, picking up the bottle of Ambien sleeping pills and giving them a slight shake so that the pills rattled in the orange bottle. Claire blinked a few times, realizing that this was something new. As his nurse, she knew what he'd been taking, and he'd never needed anything for sleep before. She resisted the urge to comment, instead clearing her throat and giving a force, tight-lipped grin that indicated that she had seen all she needed to see.
"I'm not ill, and I'm not crazy," Lex mentioned casually as he escorted her out of the guest suite and back to the living room area where he took a seat in one of the large armchairs and crossed his legs before gesturing for Claire to take a seat as well. "But I'm not accustomed to living on my own, and this rouse of me being insane is what keeps me out of prison, so here we are. When they offered me a nurse, I accepted. Shows compliance," he said with a sarcastic grin.
"Well," Claire said, removing her bag and putting it to the side. "You've been certified by your insurance for eight hours a day, three days a week. So right now, the most reasonable schedule is probably Monday, Wednesday, and Friday -"
"Do you have other patients?"
The question ought to have been a casual one, but because of its sharp tone, prompted Claire to look up from her packet of papers and note the suddenly uneasy, agitated expression on Lex Luthor's face which seemed to have come from nowhere. He didn't want there to be other patients.
"No," she said clearly, "You're my only assignment with this agency, Mister Luthor."
"Good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You understand, I'm in an incredibly vulnerable position at the moment, and the last thing I need is any potential leaking of my condition out to the public, or to other patients -"
"I respected your privacy in Metropolis State Pen, what makes you think I wouldn't do the same in your own home?" Claire couldn't help but ask. "And I think now, it's appropriate to tell you that I was offered a considerable amount of money to talk to the Daily Planet after you got shanked the first time. I could have paid my students loans twice over, and I still held your privacy in the utmost regard."
The interruption seemed to catch Lex off guard - he ordinarily did not take kindly to being interrupted. However, this particular interruption was one he was inclined to permit. For whatever reason or for perhaps no reason at all, he realized, this woman had shown some extent of loyalty towards him. And moreover, she was the hard-headed sort who stood for no insult. In short, she would be the best kind of amusement.
"There she is," Lex finally said with a smirk, getting to his feet and slowly clapping his hands a few times. "I was waiting for your true colors to come out. I know you far, far better than that. You've hardly ever been prim and professional."
"Prim, never, professional, always," Claire retorted, crossing her arms over herself - she had to admit that it was, in fact, a relief to drop the act as well. There was some level of truth in Lex's sentiment. If anything, she was more herself as a nurse in the prison than she was in other instance. Lex walked a few paces in front of her, eyeing her with a predatory glint in his gaze.
"Then as your first duty as my nurse, I'd like your help with something," he said. "Follow me."
Claire got up and fought the urge to groan at having to follow him again - did he need to walk so damn fast? This time was doubled in difficulty as he now was leading her upstairs, down the hall to the master suite. She bristled slightly as she realized where she was, though she couldn't help but admire the windows that spanned nearly an entire wall. She slowed her pace and followed at a greater distance until she ascertained where he was headed - to his own bathroom, where he produced a shaving kit and a canister of shaving cream, holding it out towards her.
"I need a little assistance. Cleaning up this situation," he said, rubbing one hand over his head after Claire had taken the supplies from his hands. "I'm hosting a gathering. A celebration of my newfound freedom," he smirked. "This Saturday - I'll expect you to attend, of course. And I'd like to keep this maintained." His hair had only grown out a small amount, nothing compared his locks prior to his incarceration, and Claire blinked incredulously.
"With all due respect," Claire began. Lex looked up at her raising an eyebrow - he knew that the phrase meant that he was about to hear something that he potentially would not want to. "Your reputation isn't exactly what it once was. What makes you think they'll come?"
"Morbid curiosity," he shrugged, though it was anything but a dismissive gesture. His movements took on an almost stalking quality as he stepped closer to Claire, hovering over her, staring down at her with an intensity that betrayed that this was more than a dinner to him. "The irresistible urge to see someone who has crashed and burned, like rubberneckers on the interstate. Half of them are social comers that will come to any event with free hors d'oeuvres, and the other half will come to see just what a wreck I've become, but I'm going to show them that Lex Luthor won't be belittled. I won't be reduced to some joke. This," he said, with the look in his eye making it evident that he was speaking to himself more than to Claire, "will be my reintroduction the the Metropolis elite. This is how I will assert that I'm still Lex Luthor."
"You... are you sure you want this?" she asked, looking down at the shaving kit in her hand, then hesitantly back up at her new patient. "Why would you -"
"They did this to me. All of them," Lex said, gesturing out towards the window, with its wide, sweeping view of Metropolis. "And when I face them, I want them to see just what they've made me."
A/N
Slightly action-free chapter that was necessary to move things along. Next chapter: A check-in with the Bat, and a gala at Luthor Mansion.
Also, to the reviewer who brought up the point that Superman is still alive in the coffin - patience. We'll get to that in due time, I promise! So, thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorite so far! You guys are awesome! Until next update (which will be soon, since this one was short), cheers!