A/N: In my mind, this chapter fits well with the song "Pieces" by Red.

Chapter 42 - Family

Lex got into his cheapest car and drove to the Kent farm. His eyes stung and his palms slipped on the steering wheel. His heart pounded so hard that he could feel his pulse in his arms, hot and tingling. It was late at night—they might not even be awake—but he had to do this while he had his nerve. The darkness tried to talk him out of it the entire time he was driving, but he didn't engage it in conversation.

Because of course, the voice was right. There was no way this could go well.

If the Kents had been malicious, manipulative liars from the beginning, then there was nothing to regain in the first place—they had never loved him. There was nothing to be rebuild. But the more he thought about it, the more he doubted it.

The more he considered everything in his Room of Obsession, with the clarity of mind that came with three months of solitude and conviction that he was going to die, the more believable it was that their secrets were truly dangerous. It was more likely that they had once loved him, and had been trying to do the best they could for him, and he'd thrown that back in their face.

If that were the case, they'd never want to take him back as their son.

He kept driving, though, on the off chance that maybe they'd let him be their friend, or at least an acquaintance. Maybe he could still come around and visit every now and then. Probably not at their dinner table, but maybe he could sometimes shoot hoops with Clark, or talk with Mrs. Kent in the kitchen, or if nothing else, help Mr. Kent with farm chores. Lex could offer that. He knew they could always use the extra set of hands.

He started planning a speech in his mind. He'd tell Mrs. Kent that he messed up. He'd apologize for his staggering hypocrisy, then he'd tell her what he'd done. He would say he never expected her to trust him again, and then he'd offer to give her time to think about whether she might ever be able to forgive him. He'd tell them he was willing to take any consequences they wanted to inflict.

Once he pulled up to the farm, Lex considered himself in the rearview mirror. His face and head were covered in cuts and scrapes, wounds in various stages of healing from his time on the island. His wrinkled long-sleeved t-shirt and dark gray sweatpants covered the rest of the injuries, except for the ones on his hands. His eyes were darkened and baggy and haunted. He looked absolutely awful. The Kents would either take pity on him or be disgusted.

His legs felt like lead as he forced himself to their porch. He lifted his fist, but couldn't bring himself to knock. He glanced through the window, and he could see Mrs. Kent just inside, walking from the kitchen to the living room.

This was a stupid idea. He lowered his head, ready to go back to the mansion and deal with things on his own, like he always had.

Then she looked over.

She gasped, and her hands came up to her mouth, and she hurried toward the door.

He took a step back. He could already see it in his mind: she would send him away. And the pain would destroy him, and the darkness would take over, this time permanently—

The door swung open.

He cleared his throat and began his speech. "Mrs. Kent, I messed up . . ."

That's as far as he got.

"Lex!" Tears filled her eyes. She pulled him into an embrace, and he melted.

It had been so long. He had forgotten. So much of his pain was soothed away in the softness of her arms, and for a second, he couldn't even feel his guilt.

But then the shame flooded back in. She didn't know. She had no idea about everything he'd done wrong, or about the darkness taking over. She'd push him away when she found out. He didn't want to tell her, but he had to.

"I did some things—"

"It's okay, sweetie." She still didn't let go. "It's okay."

"It's not, I—" His breath hitched, and he gripped onto her tighter. "I messed up really, really bad, Mom."

She pulled back, holding his arms.

He winced—the name had slipped off his tongue. He had never, ever meant to imply he should be her son again.

"You're home," she said, and her cool hands moved up to cradle his face. Joy filled her sparkling eyes, and she kissed his cheek. "You're home."

All at once he knew.

It didn't matter how bad it was. When she found out he'd let the darkness take over, she might get upset with him. She might yell at him, or give him a look of disappointment that would hurt enough to bring him to tears. She might never trust him again; she might even punish him, in her own way.

But she would never, ever push him away.

Her face blurred, and tears streamed down his cheeks. "Yeah, Mom. I'm home."

She lowered her hands and stepped back, turning to look over her shoulder. "Jonathan!"

Mr. Kent came running in from the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw Lex. His face ran through a series of emotions—shock, then anger, then relief, then joy. He finally closed the distance between them and put both arms around Lex.

Lex had fuzzy memories of Lilian's hugs, but he'd never known the true embrace of a father. The strength and solidity of the arms around him steeled him and made him forget what fear was. For just a moment, he couldn't imagine the darkness in him ever having the audacity to speak again.

Mr. Kent pulled back and squeezed Lex's shoulder. "Clark's upstairs getting ready for bed. Go talk to him."

"Then come back down," Mrs. Kent told him.

Lex swallowed. "I don't know if he'll want—"

"Go."

Lex couldn't deny Mr. Kent's authoritative voice. He made his way up the stairs as quickly as his weakened legs would allow, and he nearly ran into Clark in the hallway.

Shock filled Clark's eyes. "Lex."

Lex couldn't help but cringe a little. "I'm so sorry—"

Lex was nearly thrown to the floor as Clark threw himself into his arms. Mrs. Kent's embrace had been gentle and firm; Mr. Kent's was solid and strong; Clark's was utterly reckless and tight. His fingers dug hard into Lex's back, and his face pressed into the side of Lex's head. Clark's parents had made Lex feel loved, but Clark made him feel even more like he'd been desperately missed. Tears filled Lex's eyes again, but Clark held on for long enough that he had time to blink them back.

Clark finished off the hug with a couple of slaps to the back that stung his sunburned skin—Lex couldn't have possibly cared less—and pulled back. "Did you get my letter? Before you left, I mean."

Lex winced. "I never got to read it."

"Oh. I'm so sorry for punching you, Lex, I'll never, ever—"

Lex held up his hands. "It's long forgiven, Clark. If you can ever forgive me for that room—"

"I forgave you the day I found out about it."

Lex felt like the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders. "We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

Clark nodded, and Lex went back down the hall. Mrs. Kent was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

"My son," she whispered. She kissed Lex's other cheek and pulled him back into her arms.

Lex let his eyes close and just rested. He never wanted her to let go.