Chapter 26 - Three days

When Lex finished brushing his teeth and entered the guest room, he was startled to see Clark sitting up on the bed, reading a book.

"Couldn't sleep?" Lex asked.

"Oh, hi, Lex. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay."

"What did you do?"

"I messed up, but I don't want to talk about it right now. Tomorrow?"

Clark stood and examined Lex's face, grimacing. "It must have been bad. Looks like Dad lectured you hard."

"Yeah, I guess." Lex wished he'd washed his face so it wouldn't be so obvious he'd been crying, but he hadn't been expecting to see anyone else tonight.

Clark must have seen the embarrassment on his face. "If it makes you feel any better, I usually cry when he yells at me."

Lex shrugged. "My dad yells at me all the time, I've never . . ."

"It only hits me so hard because I know how much he cares about me. If he didn't, I—" Clark stopped short, as though suddenly realizing what he was saying. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Lex."

The implication should have been like an arrow to the heart, but Lex didn't feel it. He figured he was too emotionally worn out to feel much at all. "No, you're right. My dad's not capable of love. I'm used to it."

Clark rubbed the back of his neck, turning away. "Um, my parents love you a lot."

"Thanks, Clark."

"I'm gonna—I'll let you sleep now." Clark awkwardly slipped past Lex and headed for the doorway.

"Wait."

He turned to face Lex.

"You were right about what you said a few weeks back. He called me son."

Clark smiled. "What did I tell you?"

"He, uh, he called me son right after saying I'd broken his trust. That's what got me."

"Ouch. For me, it's when he talks about why he's disappointed in me right after telling me why he's proud of me."

"He did that, too. He said he was disappointed because he knows my conscience is strong and I should have known better."

Clark hissed sympathetically. "Yeah, you got the full treatment. Just a tip, in case if they ever do it again—I always brace myself when Mom takes my hand. That's how I know Dad's about to lay it on."

"Good to know."

Clark took a step closer. "You sure you're okay?"

Lex smiled. "Actually, I think I'm better than ever."

"It's amazing how that works." Clark gave him a light clap on the shoulder, then turned back toward the door. "Are you headed out early tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I have to come back at dinnertime. Apparently I'm staying here for the next few nights."

"They grounded you?"

"No. Well, kind of."

Clark shook his head, grinning. "Good night, Lex. See you tomorrow."

As Lex watched Clark go, he was filled with a sudden urge to ask how Clark had gotten into the LuthorCorp building, or for that matter, how he'd gotten to Metropolis in the first place. But the fatigue had already settled into his limbs, and Clark had already disappeared down the hall, so he left it alone.

Martha sat awake with Jonathan for awhile after both kids had gone to bed.

"I know that was hard for you," she said softly.

Jonathan sighed. "I only ever hated that kid because he was Lionel's."

She didn't comment on his use of the word hate. "Have you really forgiven him?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Forgiveness is a choice. And that choice was made when I told you he could be part of our family."

"You know what I mean. Are you still angry with him?"

He let out his breath. "Yeah, a little. But I'm not tempted to hit him. You were right, Martha, most of the things I was angry about weren't his fault. And it's hard to see Lionel in him while he's crying."

Martha knew exactly what he meant. Lex's honest vulnerability had been what endeared Jonathan to him in the first place. "Lionel gave up his rights to Lex when he abused him. Lex is our kid now."

"He's not exactly calling us Mom and Dad."

"Well, we've never asked him to. Maybe we should."

Jonathan didn't say anything, but he didn't shut her down either, which she took to mean he would think about it. She didn't bring up the fact that Lex had once called her Mom accidentally; he'd been mocking her, so she figured it didn't count.

She suddenly remembered what Jonathan had said to Lex about his violent tendencies. "What did you do to his arm?"

Jonathan's eyes fell closed. "Grabbed onto it, hard. Might have left a bruise."

"Jonathan!"

"I know, Martha."

She winced. "He forgave you without a thought."

"I know."

"He really loves you."

"And I do love him. But old habits . . ." Jonathan's eyes met hers. "He looked like he was expecting me to beat him."

"I think he was more concerned about being kicked out of our family." Martha smiled. "I think you convinced him his place is secure. You went and grounded him."

Jonathan half laughed. "You're the one who told me to do what I would have done with Clark."

"I'm not criticizing. I think it will be good for both of you. For all four of us, actually." She squeezed his hand. "I don't get the sense he had much of a childhood, I doubt he minds us treating him a bit like a teenager at times."

"Maybe not."

"Though if you grounded Clark, it would be a punishment."

"Lex thinks it is."

"I know, but I think he's going to enjoy living here for the next three days."

"I could prevent that," Jonathan muttered.

"Save that for some time when Lex's plans don't blow up in his face. For now, just enjoy the time with your sons."

Jonathan wrapped an arm around her. "I will."

On the first morning, the sun was far too high in the sky by the time Lex woke up. He cursed a little as he got out of bed—he should have gotten up early enough to get a driver to bring him by the mansion to pick up a set of outdoor work clothes. Then he could have helped Mr. Kent with the morning chores before he headed to the plant.

When he got down to the kitchen, he apologized to Mrs. Kent for sleeping in, though she insisted she'd wanted him to sleep. Then he apologized again for betraying her the night before, but she wasn't having that, either, saying he'd already been forgiven. Lex still felt guilty enough to be antsy about getting out of their hair for the day, but she made him sit down and eat before he left, despite his protests that he usually skipped breakfast.

His first order of business was to stop by the mansion to pack himself a few days' worth of clothes, so he wouldn't have to keep coming back to change or borrowing from the Kents. Next was to drive his least expensive car to the plant for work, since he knew he'd be taking it to the farm after.

Most of the day's work was in patching things up after the hostage situation from the night before. He met with his own security, talked to lawyers and law enforcement, ran emergency drills with the employees, and checked in with the managers to gauge whether they felt safe. Even though the disaster had been at LuthorCorp and not LexCorp, everyone seemed to be feeling its effects, but they were proactive and even ahead of him in taking precautions. It was an easier day of work than he'd expected, and Lex had never been so proud of his people.

When he could spare a minute, he called Helen to postpone their date. She didn't ask for an explanation. After all, she'd seen the media circus from the night before, so most of her questions were about whether he was sure he was doing okay.

Lex wanted to bring Helen to the Kents, but he really didn't know how to ask her. He'd been dating her for two months, which felt like an eternity for him, but he didn't have anything normal to compare it to, and he had absolutely no experience with bringing a girl to meet his family. So he told himself he'd invite her to the Kents after she invited him to meet her family.

By the second day, Lex went to sleep early enough to wake up with the sun, and Mr. Kent showed him how to do some of the chores. He wouldn't let Lex work on the farm for more than an hour or so in the morning and evening, though. Something about pacing himself. Mr. Kent didn't seem to be pacing himself, so Lex didn't really understand what he was saying—until he woke up the next morning, almost too stiff to get out of bed. It took several minutes of stretching and gentle motion to be able to engage in any physical activity. Mr. Kent gave him easy chores until he was warmed up enough that the soreness was bearable.

Despite the pain, Lex thought the time he spent at the Kents was the best he'd had in his life. Dinner each night, of course, was the best part. Up until this point, Lex's evenings with the Kents had consisted either of catching up on whatever had happened during the previous week or two, or in rehashing the traumatic events that had caused him to be invited over. This was different. Rather than talking about general events, they told stories about their day, talked about their interests, and joked and laughed. Lex didn't feel like an outsider or a guest—he felt like one of them.

On the third evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kent went out to dinner for a belated anniversary celebration, and Lex and Clark were left alone in the house. They tried to cook, but they burned everything and completely messed up the kitchen, so they ended up driving to the mansion and having the staff make them pizza. Lex felt a little silly ordering it, since he never had, but the grin on Clark's face was worth it.

After dinner, Lex beat Clark at checkers so soundly that he felt bad, even though Clark was a good sport about it. Lex ended up secretly making up increasingly restrictive rules for himself to put himself at a disadvantage, until Clark was able to win a game.

It was difficult not to leave the Kents a lavish housewarming gift on the last day. He knew they wouldn't want it, especially considering it seemed to undermine the point of why they'd had him staying with them in the first place—they seemed to have meant it as more of a punishment than a gift. But he settled for asking a florist to put together an arrangement of some types of flowers the Kents didn't already grow, and he left them on the kitchen table with an honest thank-you card before he headed back home—or rather, back to the mansion.

He'd started out thinking it was punishment. Now, he was sad it was over.

For three days, Lex had slept like a baby all the way through the night. No night terrors. No waking up every hour obsessing over the reasons why his father was most recently upset with him. Just a bit of soreness when he settled into the soft, cheap cotton sheets—good soreness, just enough to remind him he'd done honest, hard work—and some stiffness when he woke up.

For three days, Mrs. Kent gave Lex a hug every morning before he left for work, every evening when he got back home, and every night before he went to bed. He would have thought it was weird, except she did the same for Clark, and Clark didn't seem to think it was any different from normal. Even if it had been weird, Lex didn't think he'd have minded.

For three days, Lex didn't drink anything stronger than lemonade. He felt no need for coffee in the morning, or for alcohol in the evening.

For three days, his inner darkness had nothing to say.