A/N: Direct quotes from 2x23, Exodus. I own nothing.

Chapter 40 - Honesty

The next day, Lex approached Helen before he could lose his nerve. She was clearly still annoyed with him, and his father had just been trying to talk to her, so he knew it was probably the worst time to have this conversation. But he didn't have much of a choice. The wedding was tomorrow.

"I don't want to go into this marriage with any secrets between us," he told her.

"I haven't held anything back."

He walked over to his desk and took out the metal vial, handing it to her. "I have. Look inside."

The shock on her face hurt more than any look Lex had received since the time he'd betrayed Mrs. Kent, but he forced himself to continue his confession. "I did break into your office," he said. "And that's what I was after. I told you because I'm trying to break the cycle. I don't want to be the person who did this anymore."

Her eyes glistened. "But you did do it, Lex. You committed a crime. You violated my privacy and that of my patients."

"I know," he managed to say.

"What did you think would happen? That you'd give it back, tell me what you did, and I'd just forgive you and we would live happily ever after?"

It sounded so ridiculous when she said it. He didn't deserve forgiveness. He didn't deserve her. He never had.

"I don't know what I expected," he told her honestly. "All I know is that I love you."

"I'm sure in some part of that twisted mind you do."

He didn't let himself flinch. It hurt because it was so, so true. His other half, the half he'd let take over, didn't love her in the slightest. It was attracted to her, but it didn't know what love was. The darkness was always saying it wasn't a part of Lex; it was Lex. Maybe it was right. Maybe Lex himself didn't know what love was—maybe he'd always just been using her.

She turned and started to walk out of the study. His mind scrambled for something, anything to say to her to keep her from leaving him. Any proof he wasn't as lost a cause as she now believed.

"I didn't have it analyzed," he said.

She whirled to face him again, and a part of him found himself wishing he'd let her walk away to cool off rather than calling her back. "What was so important about this blood, anyway?"

"I thought it would give me the answers I've been looking for." Now, though, he couldn't remember why those answers had been so important to him, why they were worth sacrificing everything for.

"All it did was end this relationship," she said.

And then she did leave.

No matter how much he wanted to—and oh! he desperately wanted to—he didn't let himself cry. He just let her go.

Her return came as a total shock.

Lex hadn't contacted anyone to tell them the wedding had been cancelled. Granted, there weren't many people for him to contact—he'd invited a few of his most trusted employees, and Lana, but all of the other wedding guests would be Helen's friends and family, not his.

Lex had put on the tuxedo and sat in his study, staring at their wedding rings, when Helen came in to tell him she still loved him.

Though the relief in that moment was immense, it wasn't exactly a joyful reunion. She reiterated how angry she was, and how unforgivable his actions had been, but for some reason she still loved him. He took it as no testament to his own character, but to hers.

He knew the start to their marriage would be rocky. He'd be fighting nonstop to earn her trust back. He almost asked if they could postpone the wedding, but he was too afraid that she would leave him if given a little more time to think about things.

And Helen leaving him was something he could never allow to happen again. He had no idea what would become of him if she did.

Helen went to call her bridesmaids and get ready for the ceremony. Lex didn't need time—he was already dressed and ready to go. Instead, he got in his car and drove straight to the church.

Jonathan Kent stood outside the building.

After everything that had gone down—the Room of Obsession, Clark hitting him, Lex giving into his darkness—Lex hadn't worked out what was left of his feelings about the Kents. They'd lied, but Lex had lied as well. Yes, they'd lied many, many more times than he had, but they also insisted the secret they were keeping was dangerous information. If they'd been telling him the truth about that part, Lex's Room of Obsession was especially offensive, a slight against them and against the safety of himself and everyone he interacted with.

Lex had stolen Mrs. Kent's medical record and Clark's blood, and Clark had punched him. But Clark wasn't his parents, and Lex had cut himself off from all three of them. Clark had sent a letter, which Lex had burned unread. It occurred to him to wonder what that letter from Clark had said, but there was no way he could find out now.

He wasn't sure if it all added up to lingering anger with the Kents over unforgivable offenses, or to anger with himself for having violated their trust and privacy in a way even they couldn't overlook. Or both.

Lex winced and approached the front door. "What are you doing here?"

"It's your wedding day. I came to wish you well."

"I didn't invite you." Lex could have kicked himself for his tone. He forced himself to lower his voice. "How did you even know it was today?"

"Small town. Word gets around." Mr. Kent reached into his pocket. "I got you something."

Lex shifted his weight, torn between telling him to get lost and begging for his forgiveness. He didn't know if Clark had told him about the Room of Obsession.

Mr. Kent held out what looked like an antique pocket watch. Lex took and opened it—it was a compass. "A compass?"

"Yeah, it's a Kent family tradition. My father game me one on our wedding day, just in case I got lost going down the aisle."

Lex closed it and held it back out to him. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

Mr. Kent took the compass, but then held it back out again. "Keep it." When Lex didn't move, Mr. Kent grabbed his hand and pressed the compass into his palm. "To find your way home."

Mr. Kent let go and started to walk away. Lex opened the compass once again, staring down at it, then he looked up at Mr. Kent, who was already approaching the parking lot.

"Mr. Kent."

He turned to face Lex.

"Look . . . maybe when I get back from the honeymoon, we can sit down and talk sometime."

Mr. Kent smiled. "I'd like that. Martha would, too."

Lex slipped the compass into his pocket and entered the church.

Martha looked up from her work in the barn as Jonathan entered. She hurried over to him. "How did it go?"

"I think there's hope," he said. "He didn't want to take the compass, but he did in the end. He said he might be willing to talk after his honeymoon."

She tried to take comfort in his words, but it was difficult to hold out any hope. It had been so long. "I'm worried, Jonathan. He's been through so much without us, and we never hear back from him after Clark sent his apology letter."

"It may take him some time, Martha."

"I'm worried about Clark, too. With everything that's been happening, and then hearing those terrible things from his biological father . . ."

Jonathan shook his head. "He says he's not hearing the voice anymore."

"Okay, but how long will that last?"

Jonathan put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "Let me worry about our older kids. You focus on taking care of yourself and the little one."

Martha put a hand on her stomach. So far, the bump wasn't particularly noticeable to anyone besides herself, at least not through her clothing, but sometimes she thought she could feel movement.

She took a deep breath, telling herself for the millionth time that she would get through things with her older sons. Her main comfort was in the fact that the challenges in her life, and in her sons' lives, seemed to be reaching a turning point. After all, she reasoned, things couldn't very well get much worse.

She had never been so wrong.