Title: Smallville Twist
Pairing/Characters: Lex Luthor/Clair Kent
Spoilers: First five seasons, shifting to total AU after Reckoning
Summary: Clair Kent has been known to carry the world on her shoulders. Powers or not, that is a hard feeling to shake, particularly after she realized she might be the only thing standing between Lex and darkness. She's willing to get closer to the darkness to pull him back into the light. It's a knife's edge between falling and staying up but she has to try, even if she has to think more like a Luthor. Fem!Clark Kent. Slightly darker Fem!Clark, but she's trying to do right even if she might be wrong. Kind of twisted, messed up love between a Luthor and Kent. Because, really, with Jor-El and Lionel pulling strings, how could they ever be normal?
No beta, mistakes are all my own. Enjoy anyway!
Roadside-Rise Against
The music rolled around the room, free and uninhibited, floating higher and higher until it could drift to the very sky. Music was one of the only thing he shared with both his parents. It was something he loved as a child for its beauty and sheer freedom. Though he did not have the courage to compose it was still an exquisite expression of inward being the way words often failed to be. It had been difficult to bring himself to sit before the keys of a piano for a while after one particular witch had taken the pleasure away but he never was one to allow something he loved to be taken from him. The first time he had gotten through the first key strokes thinking of the way Clair held him when she discovered him, arms protectively surrounding him as she instinctively rocked him back and forth very slightly, obviously trying to will away what happened to him. With that thought he had been able to play to be lost in the music.
When he ended the sonnet, he stood from the bench to get himself a drink, only to find he was not alone. Clair had a shoulder leaned up against the door frame, a sweet, happy look in her eyes. With a wide enough smile like she offered now the appealing hint of a point, almost dangerous and slightly vampiric, in her canines revealed itself. Da Vinci himself would not have been able to do justice to the light of her smile. Michelangelo and Raphael would also have failed but he had a feeling they would have tried.
Even a picture could not do justice to the essence of Clair Kent because she was outwardly beautiful but it was the inside shining outward that made her truly the most stunning creature in the world; paint nor pixels could capture that essential aspect.
"Clair! What a nice surprise!" And he meant it sincerely the way he likely wouldn't have a day or two before.
"You really are a marvel, Lex." There was a spring in her step as she walked in, the light from the painted glass window toying with the color in her dark curls, "So full of talent. Too bad you know it already and stay so smug." She was grinning playfully.
"I could hardly be expected to deny my gifts. Denying complements is rude anyway, you know."
"Whatever you say, Lex."
"So... have you come to continue our previous conversation?" He prompted, trying not to show how eager he was.
A stiffness suddenly took her body in possession and the smile faded, "No, I just came to see you." She turned her back sharply to him.
Lex rushed forward, grabbing her shoulders, afraid she would leave, "Clair, please." He slid his hand down her arms and around her middle to hold her lightly. He settled his cheek against the side of her head, a more intimate posture than he had ever allowed himself with this girl.
"I came to see you, escape for a while, not come to confession. You might have a lot of stained glass but that's as close to a church as this place will ever get... and you are definitely not a priest."
"We could pretend." He offered.
"It might be tempting if you took a permanent vow of silence." She quipped.
"That aside, I told you I had no intention of giving up."
Clair glared at him from the corner of her eye, "Does that mean we can't play pool anymore?"
He hmmed before answering, "I win and I get a question per ball I sink. You win, you get silence per ball."
"Lexsssssss!"
"There is strength in numbers. You don't have to hide from me. And I promise, cross my heart, nothing has to change between us regardless of what you tell me."
Her head turned further away from him, "You can't promise me any such thing."
"I want to share it, whatever it is! You can't do everything alone! I want to help you! Let me?" Lex knew his quite voice was pleading, un-Luthor like, but he did not overly care.
"You do not know what you're really asking, Lex." Clair insisted, shaking her head as if to deny everything.
"Then help me understand!"
He let her pull away and turn to face him. She stared at him, eyes wide and focused with contemplation like she had never seen the man in front of her before. He was used to that look, he got it often when she was trying to puzzle him out, when he surprised her. It seemed they were always a puzzle to the other, perhaps even a Pandora's box both wanted to open but were afraid to. Each knew there was a whole world under the surface but it was hard to tell what kind without actually opening the box. They were both desperate to understand but terrified to have the answers all the same. He could tell when she finally made a decision.
"All right." The expression she pasted on was playful but he knew it was fake levity, "I will give you a picture of what you might be getting into by entering my world. You corporate lot like to know the background before you make a deal, right? So I'm going to give you that, give you a history of the people in my past that have known even a portion of my secrets."
Lex waited, clasping his hands and controlling his facial expression to seem less eager than he really was. Even if she did not tell him what he needed to know, a list of names would go a long way toward finding out more. She waved a hand at the couch, wordlessly ordering him to sit. He allowed himself a small sigh before he dropped dramatically down and leaned his elbows on his knees to indicate he was ready.
She looked like she was readying herself for a speech the way she set her shoulders and planted her feet. "There is only one person, my whole life, that I told my secrets to. Pete Ross, my life long best friend, the boy I grew up with, and I only told him in our second year of high school. It was the reason he left; he said it was too much of a burden, made it so he was always looking over his shoulder. He regretted ever knowing, and resented that I dragged him into my secret."
Pete Ross? Not only was he her childhood friend, making him a logical choice of secret holders, but the part she left out was how he was also the boy she had been in love with since age five - at least if he remembered correctly. He left because of her secret? While Lex had stopped a beating from the corrupted agent, he never assumed the boy left because of it, but it seemed he was wrong. From what he knew, Pete left and nearly cut all ties with Clair. He would resurface now and then but never let Clair come near, artfully avoiding contact like a politician. More than once Lex tried to convince Clair to fight for what she wanted, make the attempt to get him back, but she always refused to push. At one point she used the age old: 'if you love them, let them go' quote. There had been only one time the Ross boy let Clair near him again and that was after the second shower. He did not stay long and he again cut ties with Clair. If he left the way Lex guessed he had the first time, and then walked away a second time because he knew the truth, that truly must have hurt more than she would ever admit. Might have been why she was so wary of telling anyone else.
More than that, she only told him in high school? She specifically said her 'whole' life, indicating strongly that she had secrets to keep all her life. All those years together and she only worked up the courage in second year? Maybe he should not be nearly as insulted by her lack of candor with him. Moreover, she said she only told one person? Her whole life and she never confided in more than that? The level of paranoia in the Kent family might have contributed largely to that but the level of control she must have had over her tongue even as a child was a bit astounding. That degree of silence indicated a high level of motivation to keep a secret.
Clair arched a brow at his silence, "But really, what you might find more enlightening is a list starting with the people that found out and tried to use or kill me, but I'll stick to only the interesting ones."
"That sounds very ominous." He crossed his legs to seem more casual but she was starting to make him very nervous with an introduction like that.
She held up one finger, "Sam Phelan; which you probably know that story so I doubt I need to give you very much on that. He was the very first in the lineup." The second finger came up, "Roger Nixon, which, again, you know most of that story." The third finger, "I guess you could count that linguist, but he never tried to use me, he only tried to kill me, yelling about how he was doing a public service or whatever," and she chuckled before holding up another finger, "Morgan Edge was a memorable one since he not only tried to hire me but tried to kill me and nearly everyone else I love while he was at it."
"Hold on!" He held up a hand, needing a minute to process that little nugget, "When did you meet him?"
"When I was in Metropolis. He wanted me to steal from your dad. When things didn't go the way he wanted, he held my mom, dad, and even Lana hostage." The fifth finger came up, "Van McNulty added me to his list after I saved you and shot me while I was out with my dad feeding the cows."
Lex found himself on his feet before he knew he was going to move, "He shot you?"
Clair nodded, acting very casual, "Yeah, my parents dug the bullet out and patched me up. I would have been dead if he had shot more than once. Lucky he didn't, I guess." The look in her eyes had turned distant, as if she was miles away even though she continued to smile a very tight smile.
"You never went to a hospital, I would have known." He offered the information without thinking but she did not exactly look shocked.
"I'm not big on hospitals. Particularly not since the last time."
"The last time?" He really needed more information, he wanted every single detail but he knew better than to be that direct at this stage.
"Yeah... but that's not really part of the list, even excluding Tina, Ian and a few less interesting ones that tried to kill me." Clair turned on her heel, beginning her pacing anew. "The other half of the list are people that found out and never tried to do me harm, but they paid the price anyway."
He took in a breath, almost afraid to hear this considering her eyes had turned suddenly glassy. With effort, he forced himself to sit back down, duly noting the way she shuffled back a few steps since he had risen. Clearly she needed distance from him for this talk.
"You remember Ryan? He found out. You were right, he could read minds, but only surface thoughts. I never told you because I was trying to protect him as much as I could. Not that I was particularly successful there, of course. But I'm sure you remember." The words made him drop back into the cushions.
Oh, did he ever remember! Ryan James. He had gotten rather attached to that little boy, even in the short time he knew him, but Clair... that had been an entirely different level. After Ryan's death, she had grieved, of course, but everyone thought she dealt remarkably well with the loss, that is until the funeral. The funeral had been his doing, upon his refusal to let anyone else have control. It was the only thing he could really do. As Jonathan Kent once said, he threw money at problems, or in that case, gave it as the singular thing he actually had to offer that could make it better.
They had not contacted the Aunt but she showed up the day of the funeral all the same. No one noticed her until the end, with her clinging to the back as she was, but Clair saw her. He had never in all his days seen Clair so utterly undone, as unhinged as she had been the moment she recognized that face. The look of absolute rage mixed with grief must have been what had Jonathan and Martha racing after their daughter, shouting her name as the girl elbowed her way through the crowd like a soldier on a mission.
Mild mannered, gentle, kind Clair Kent had begun shrieking like a banshee long before she was particularly close to Ryan's Aunt; "You bitch! How dare you come here! Damn you! How dare you show your face here after what you did to him!"
Jonathan nearly wrapped himself around one of Clair's arms while Martha clutched desperately at the girl's other hand. Pete dropped his plate of cake and was almost instantly plastered and braced against Clair's front, acting as a stopping force, feet planted like he intended to be a roadblock, all except for the fact that Clair kept moving forward as if none of them were there. Pete was skidding and so was Mr. Kent. The funny thing was, the first thing he really registered was that he had never heard Clair swear before, and certainly not so loudly.
"You murdering bitch! You killed him just the same as if you'd been the one experimenting on him! Do you know what they were doing to him? I do! Because I got him out of that hellhole! You filthy, heartless, monster! He's dead because of you!"
Lex himself had scrambled through the sea of people at that point, shaking off his shock and grabbing her arm alongside Martha, clinging to her with all his strength, because in that moment he was not just dead sure Clair wouldn't kill that woman. This girl was a far cry from anything he had seen before. In his panic; because much to his dismay, Clair was nearly in front of the woman even with three men, her mother, and suddenly Chloe and Lana joining forces; he had gotten right in her ear and said the most cutting words that he knew would make her stop. "Clair, this is wrong! You're disgracing Ryan's memory! He'd be crushed if he saw this because you know he wouldn't want this! You were his hero, he looked up to you to do the right thing."
As predicted, Clair stopped dead, actually going limp for just a moment and forcing them all to swiftly shift efforts from holding her back to holding her up. She regained herself very quickly, wriggling free of the many holds on her, stumbling backward and looking for all the world like she had been stabbed in the chest. He watched, captivated, as her shields fell back into place with an almost audible bang. Her eyes turned from wild and open to stoic and shuttered, her face smoothed into the flawless picture of calm. "I need some air" was all she said before she slunk into the crowd and marched with surprising dignity out the door. They all tried to follow after her, but as was her habit, she had vanished.
Hours later when he returned home he found her in his den, curled up on his couch with her knees to her chest as she stared out his stain-glass windows. There was a partial glass of brandy on the end table but he made no comment on it. A glance at his decanters showed she had not taken much, if any more than one glass. He would not begrudge her a bit of underage drinking to dull the pain. He had waited for her to speak, mulling around in pretense of being busy, but she never spoke nor even moved. She looked blank, like she could have turned to stone at some point while sitting there and looking at her nearly made him cry. After he could no longer handle looking at her, he had broken his unspoken rule of distance and sat beside her on the couch. She did not resist when he pulled her into his arms, pliantly resting her head partly on his arm and partly on his shoulder. They never had spoken, but after a while she had relaxed in his hold, seeming to thaw back into a human. When she left, she smiled like she was trying to make him believe everything was right in the world, and then she was gone again.
He realized uneasily that he had never seen her as real as she had been at that funeral and he wondered just what could have happened to make her so skilled at hiding that sort of raw emotion. It really had seemed she took Ryan's death in stride but she clearly had not. It frightened him to think that she might have done that all her life, hidden all her pain behind those impeccable shields, and that beautiful girl might be the most broken creature he had ever met. She saved everyone, but in the end, who saved her? Where did an angel turn when she needed saving?
He, himself had taken out a bit of that pent up grief for a little boy and a broken angel all his money could not fix, plus a bit of very old rage at the way people both loved and hated him for money, and had taken a nine-iron to the car of the man giving him a ticket. Clair had teased goodnaturedly about it and everything seemed back to normal. There was hardly room for him to begrudge Clair a murderous thought or two in light of that. So, as he did with most things, he tried to put all of it out of mind.
"I remember." God, she did not blame herself for that, did she? He wanted to ask but she had never spoken that boys name until now and he was not sure she could endure saying more with the things she already said.
"Then there was Cyrus Krupp. You know how that story ends as well." Her voice could have been laced in ice but he could see the building moisture in her eyes.
She did blame herself! She really did, he could see it written all over her face. How could she believe-
Clair clapped her hands in front of her, "So concludes the list of those that have found out."
His eyes widened in horror and he could only stare at her. That was the entire part of the list? Two people found out about her and did not try to harm her? Could that really be true? He covered his mouth absently with one hand, trying to contain the show of emotion that brought out of him. He understood the message she was sending very clearly and it was indeed a dark picture. She had all the reason in the world not to be very trusting, and considering he just knew she blamed herself for what happened to the last two, it made a lot more sense.
"That's really all? What about people you've told? It can't only be Pete." He asked rather quietly, because he simply had to know, he had to know. People had found out, but he had to know who she told! Who had Clair Kent trusted? Pete, yes, but surely Chloe. Lana? But then Lana was perennially angry about Clair shutting her out, so maybe not. So who did she trust? Not Lex Lurthor, obviously, but who did hold her trust?
Her green eyes finally turned to his face and she offered him the saddest smile he had ever seen. "Ah, ever the keen businessman, Lex. You're right, it should be an all inclusive list if I'm offering."
His eyes took in the momentary quiver in her full, round lower lip. The mask that slid into place was one he had only seen a few times, it was bitter, sarcastic, and sour. Suddenly he wished he had never asked but at the same time he just had to know! There was obsession in his nature, he knew that, but he needed to know. This was the most information she had ever offered him and he had to take it while it was flowing. Later, once he had the time, he would go back over every name and detail to study.
"You're wrong in thinking I've told others. But correct about my leaving an important name off the second list of people that found out, ones that got hurt because of me." She turned her face away again and stared into space. "Your name is on that list too, you just don't remember... you don't remember because I couldn't save you. I failed you quite completely and then I couldn't even get revenge for you. As close as we came to revenge was Edge's death."
Lex found that he stopped breathing, his brain frozen and repeating those words in his head to be sure he heard her correctly. Save him? Revenge? Edge's death, he noticed, was a decided 'we'. He had forgotten something he knew about her? Seven weeks worth of things, by chance? There was only one thing that was coming to mind that she could be talking about but the thought made him instantly feel ill. "What do you mean?" It was strange how she had reduced him to the most basic questions, negating his usual intelligence and ease with real questioning. Maybe she was right, maybe he did not want to know.
"If it's any comfort to you, I'll never, ever forgive myself for failing you either. A lot of people, you included, have said I'm a modern day heroin but that's only because they don't realize how many times I fail. I despise being called heroic because it's not true! Real hero's wouldn't let the people they love be hurt as often as I have." Clair toed at the rug fringe and her shoulders heaved with the quick breaths she was taking, "While she was in the hospital after the horse trampled her, Lana told me that I was right. She said she thought I was paranoid to lock her out and pull away from our years of friendship, paranoid to think that being my friend was dangerous, but she said I was right. Being close to me was dangerous."
He did not want to know anymore of this; did not want to understand why he could see her shattering right before his eyes even if he could not see her face. He did not want to know why any of these things had happened or what the details were. Clair was the strongest person he had ever known but she was cracking, the armor he knew she wore each day always seemed so strong but now he saw glaring holes. He knew how close she was with Lana, there being a strange, nearly twin bond between them regardless of them sharing no blood. It must have cut Clair to ribbons for Lana to say that.
"I'm not a hero, Lex." The words were breathy and nearly slurred together, "Hero's would do so much better; they wouldn't be terrified every single day and they wouldn't let fear rule them like I do. Half the mistakes I've made, the times people have been hurt because of me, was because I hesitated... to afraid of someone finding out about me. It only takes a few seconds of hesitation, you know, for someone to die. Just a moment of fear getting the better of you, and things go so very wrong."
She was nearly gasping, maybe near hyperventilation. Lex eased out of the leather chair, being careful not to let it make noise as he got to his feet. If interrupted, she might stop talking, and while he no longer wanted to hear, he had to know. In this moment she was willing to talk, like the walls holding back the water had opened and it was spilling out of her, but they could close again if he spooked her.
"I'm a coward, you know. I've lived my whole life terrified, just waiting for the hammer to drop; waiting to end up in Summerholt, or in another level 3 project, walled off a few hundred feet underground where no one would find me. Waiting for someone like your father... or Dr. Garner to decide they needed to take me apart and see how I work." She laughed and it sounded more like a sob, "Maybe that's why I was so determined to keep you away from that place. I saw what they did to you when I followed you there and I couldn't understand how you could willingly let them. I was afraid Garner would hurt you and what might happen. Your father..."
His chest involuntarily tightened at the unwelcome memory of seeing her in that water, partly naked, helpless and more vulnerable than he ever thought she could be. He had been so afraid she was dead at first, and when he broke the glass, he called her name, frightened she might never answer. When he pulled her out, he remembered distinctly how careful he was, trying not to hurt her any more than she already had been. Her whole body had been shaking from shock and probably the chill of damp skin. The haunted look in her eyes frightened him more than the wobbling in her knees.
Lex wrapped her in his coat to keep her warm and covered as possible. Clair had made a horrible, indistinguishable sound, curling into him with her face buried as deeply into his neck as she could get, clinging to him like he could keep her grounded in the present world. All he could do was hold her. He remembered how her wet hair hooked itself on his lip but he refused to let go of her long enough to clear it away. The coat was damp to the touch only minutes after he put it around her. The front of his suit was uncomfortably verging on waterlogged soon after but he honestly had not cared.
When people finally began to arrive, he was quick to maneuver her out the door as swiftly as humanly possible. She followed without any hint of resistance, fully pliant and so very trusting of him. They passed his father but none of them made effort to speak save a few knowing and heated glances shared. As he rushed her out of the building and deposited her safely into his car, he felt the sickening and real understanding that Clair nearly died. Had he not gone to check the area, judging by how long it took personnel to get there, she would have drowned. Even if she lived he could not say he trusted any of those people to really let her walk free, even with Garner out of the way.
She never cried though, not even one tear. It seemed, as he drove her home, eyeing her as she tried to sink deeply into his coat, that she shut of nearly all her emotional responses. It made him wonder what she had seen. How horrible was it that she would need to retreat so fully from it? The drive reminded him of what he found after Ryan's death, because she never said a word until they were back in Smallville. What happened to that little girl to make her construct such impenetrable defenses?
"-but that's no surprise, though I know it's pathetic." Lex knew he missed a large chunk of what she said but he never got the chance to ask for a repeat when she continued, "The only time I can remember ever not being scared all the time was when I was in Metropolis, high enough on my drug of choice to feel like nothing mattered... but even then I was afraid of my biological father. He wouldn't leave me alone. I could always tell he's lingering, just waiting to spring."
"Who is your father?" He was going to need so very many days alone later to even begin to unpack all this information, for now he needed to keep her talking.
She jolted as if he slapped her, but then she smiled like it should make him forget he saw it, "He has several names. The one he uses around here is Joe."
"Surname? I can track him, tell you where he is and when he moves. All I need is a little information and he'll never be able to make a move you don't know about."
Clair looked amused though it seemed morbidly hinged, "He's not that easy. Even if you could track him, it wouldn't keep him away." She nodded easily to her own words, "My parents are always looking over their shoulder to see if anyone is lurking around the corner to destroy everything they try to protect, waiting for someone to take me away, waiting for my father to do something. The last few years there has always been someone hunting us. Nixon, Edge, my 'real' father, your father... That's actually the real reason my dad hates the Luthor's, you know, because Lionel is always just on the edge of being too close."
He considered telling her that his father probably would never be able to hurt her now, in the state he was in, but he decided against mentioning something no one knew about. He could not promise her that Lionel would never recover to haunt her. People involved with those markings had come back from catatonia before.
Clair sounded so sad, stricken even, "They always tell me I was their gift, which I know they believe, but I've always known deep down that I was really their curse."
"Clair, you are no one's curse. You saved my life the day we met, remember? You even saved my father once."
"It doesn't exactly atone for what I've done."
"You have nothing to atone for, Clair. Even if you did, by now you must have struck even." He spoke with conviction, ignoring the little voice in his head that reminded him how many times she lied to him, but as well meant as his words were, they seemed to repel her.
"I should go. I have a lot to do. The house won't rebuild itself." Hearing the words, he knew she was shut down.
"Wait," he moved slowly to avoid spooking her, "how about that game? No bets, no questions, just a game? We can unwind." He did not want her to walk away angry with him.
"All right," she agreed. "But you automatically forfeit the game if you try slipping a question in."
"Oh, absolutely."
They played pool for around twenty minutes before she was fully calmed down. He watched her like a hawk, seeking out all her tells and making as many jokes as he could. She seemed infinitely better and for that he was exceedingly thankful. It was not the most pleasant thing in the world to see her in the state of upset that she had been in. He wanted to protect her but he wanted her happy too. He wanted and needed her secrets but he was starting to get the impression that they would have to be drawn out slowly if she was going to be emotionally sound by the end.
When she again stated that she had to go it was accompanied by a joke about their game. Though if she thought he had not noticed that she threw the last shot, she was crazy. It was something he had noticed about her some time ago. She never excelled at anything even when he knew she could. There were things she was good at but she was always just a few notches short of excellent, always enough to make her fit into the average of anything, someone with potential but not someone everyone would notice.
Her clothing was always at least a size too large, the shirts at least. At first he thought it was because they were what she could afford, second hand items, but he noticed that even her new clothing items were always intentionally baggy like she was desperately trying to hid herself in them. Having seen her nearly naked her knew her figure was nothing to hide, yet she very clearly did hide it. Clair did everything to blend in and attract as little attention as possible. The only time he ever saw her in well fitting clothing was when he was sure she was on something. When she was high, she dressed like most girls that one would find at a club and she did not seem afraid to stand out.
She truly was afraid every day. He never realized just how extensive her hiding was, but once she admitted it, he could see it. Clair wore a costume every single day and hid behind a hundred masks just so no one would catch on. It would never be right for someone like her to have to hide like that. She deserved so much better.
He got her into one of his cars before he attempted touching their issues again, "I'm still not comfortable leaving things like this. If your father is as dangerous as it sounds, you have to at least let me check into him. I promise you that he will never know I'm looking."
"Lex, don't worry. It doesn't matter. The past still hurts but it's fine now." She smiled a real, happy, relieved smile, "He's out of my life, I'm finally free. I did what he wanted so now he doesn't care."
"Clair..." he hesitated but continued, "if I've learned anything from being a Luthor it has been... when someone has their hooks in you, they don't let go."
She looked disturbed, the smile fading, "So far, you're not the only one that thinks so. But he's my father, not some tramp off the street. I don't see why he should come back. I'm not useful anymore."
"I hope that's true. I hope he is out of your life, but you might want a plan in case he isn't."
"I'll think about it." And he could tell by her tone that he would get nothing more for the time being so he unwillingly let it drop.
As per request, he pulled to a stop at the dangling wooden sign for the farm rather than taking her to her door. "What will you tell them? Lex Luthor is prying into your life?"
"No, I won't tell them anything. They think they know all my secrets, all my flaws, but they don't. I'm not a total disclosure type."
It was so morbid, but he was inexplicably pleased to hear that. It was wrong to be pleased that he was not the only one that she kept things from.
When she got out of the car to walk down her driveway, he waited until she was out of sight before pulling out his phone. "Jones, yeah, I'm going to need you to track down and get me any information you can on a list of names. I want to know everything including their favorite color and what they purchased at the coffee shop, got it?"
Two Days Later
When he heard Clair Kent had been shot he had not believed it but she was there, prone on a bed in the sterile hospital. Sitting beside her, body so still, skin pale under the tan, he could hardly get his lungs to function. She had been shot. He never really considered that the Unsinkable Clair Kent might leave his life and certainly not like this. It was unfathomable that it happened at all! How many times had she beat the odds and come away unharmed? They survived so much worse than one kid with a gun but this is what got her? It was not possible.
Against his better judgement, he reached out and took her limp hand in his, cringing when he noticed how cold it was, "You walk into so many impossible situations every day." His voice was quiet to avoid his suspicion it might crack if he spoke too loudly, "I have watched you work miracles more times than I can count... and I know you've probably orchestrated more than even I know about. So I'm going to ask you for another, OK? You need to pull one more out of that incredible enigma that makes you who you are and you need to stay."
He looked up at the window, though not at the outside, blinking rapidly to hold his emotions in check, and when he looked down she was staring at him.
Green eyes fluttered and his heart jumped. The moment hope swelled in him it crashed into thousands of pieces at his feet when the heart monitor slid from the steady beat to a continuous whine. Lex shot to his feet, clinging to her hand, ready to shake her back to him before he was unceremoniously shoved away and nearly thrown to the doorway. He watched in total silence, another piece of his world cracking with each unsuccessful shock. He knew even before they stripped off the gloves and announced the time of death. Breathing had stopped while he watched because he was afraid to take air away from Clair when she needed it; further, he knew the moment he took a breath it might be a sob.
Before he noticed he was moving he was down the hall, gasping as quietly as he could for what he hoped were calming breaths. Mentally he tried to convince himself that he had seen everything wrong, it was a joke he would be very angry about later on once she came out of that room. Nothing could really hurt an angel, angels lived forever. He ignored the fact that the wall was keeping him up while his chest exploded with pain. There might have been a chance he was having a heart attack and what he had seen was a pain induced illusion, because his chest really hurt.
Lex saw the Kent's from the corner of his eye, noticed the blooming fear on their faces as they watched him. It was possible he was not doing as well as he hoped to hide his distress. When the doctor rounded the corner he nearly reached out to jerk her back and keep her from them; he knew what she was going to tell them. His eyes stubbornly directed themselves away from the scene but he could still heart the horrible sound Martha made.
But suddenly something happened and they all moved as one to Clair's room only to find a blessed nothing. Clair was gone. He felt like some of the ground had just become more solid because so long as there was no body there was a chance their angel did pull forth a miracle. He wanted to believe that, so he did.
Once she did indeed return, proving she really was an angel, as unimaginable as she was perfect, he vowed no one would ever kill her again. Whatever it took, he would make the world safe for her. He would make sure no one ever could kill her again, never hurt her. No more war might be a long goal, but he could start small, work his way out until he could ensure Clair Kent would never be in danger again. His ability might have been fast healing rather than something more useful to shelter her, like shooting fire from his eyes, but he had a very active imagination. Perhaps his other ability was his intelligence which he could indeed use. She was too precious a gift to risk again for any reason. Like all angels, she was compelled to protect others, so he needed to make a world she did not need to protect.
That was when he decided to branch out into advanced weaponry. Rome had been a brutal ruling force but they did have peace far better than most managed. Fear was a great motivator to keep people in their place.
When he visited her in her loft, once she was confirmed to be back home, he was surprised by what he found. She was sitting on her couch, looking as if she was being crushed by some unseen force. All she did was stare ahead, even when he greeted her. He at least got a mumbled, "hey, Lex" when he tried a second time. He might have been insulted if he had not seen the less than happy look Chloe wore when she left. A perfectly living Clair should have been cause for a lot more joy than this.
For lack of a better idea, he sat down beside her and let silence hang around them. His hands dangled between his knees as he tried to follow her eyes and see what she was studying so intently.
"You were right," she mumbled suddenly, "he's never going to let me go. I'm trapped even more than ever. He had the nerve to tell me he loved me right before he promised cryptic threats of future punishment. I have this hunch that my father is insane; great scientific mind, maybe, but very much insane."
Lex had no idea what to say to that, none at all, so he kept staring at her desk and hoped she kept talking.
"He acted like it pained him to tell me this vague promise of future horrors, like it wasn't his fault at all, but mine... Like whatever he does is my fault because I should have followed his word as law. He acts like I should trust him blindly? At first I wanted to trust him because he was my father but it didn't take long before I realized he was the last person I could trust. And he says he loves me when all he has ever done is hurt me? Maybe that's why you and I hit it off so fast, Lex... maybe my subconscious remembered how similar our fathers were." Clair chuckled a little too long for it to be natural. "If I'd had the choice, I would have refused to be brought back with this particular price tag attached. It's not worth it."
He still had no idea what to say but he felt he should say something, "Well, I think he did do one good thing, and I'm glad, regardless, that he brought you back. I think it was worth any price."
She folded her fingers together so tightly that they turned white, "He's going to kill someone I love." She told him, anger fringed in her calm, "Maybe it will be you. Would you still think it was worth any price if it was you he takes from me? I don't know who he's going to take or when." The sound of her voice was nearing hysteric, "I mean, I have lots of guesses. He's never loved how my dad gets in his way, I mean, I'm the reason my dad has heart problems now. He might pick you since you know a lot more than I should have let you, and I'm sure he knows. He could take Chloe or Lana because, lets face it, I don't have a lot of friends... which is good in this case, narrows the number of people at risk. He might take my mom since my birth mother is dead, why not make it both?"
In all this time he had never seen her eyes as petrified as they were now. He could not handle that unhinged look. Without much cognitive thought, he nearly tackled her, skillfully rolling them both until her body was comfortably pinned between the back of the old couch and his body. Clearly she needed to feel safe, so he put her in as safe a position as he could offer; it might not actually be safe but he knew it would feel that way with something solid on as many sides of her as there could be. He wrapped her in his arms as much as he could, pulling her head under his chin, willing her to feel protected in the forced lying position he put them in. Their legs were a little tangled but it was not uncomfortable, though for his personal sanity he wished his knee had not ended up between her thighs.
With a mildly startled sigh, she relaxed with surprising ease into him as if she was glad he put an end to her speaking the way he had. Her breath was warm on his neck, fanning under his shirt and to his chest. The fact that she was breathing soothed him immensely because he had feared not long ago that she breathed her last.
"I don't care what happens. I'm glad you're alive." He told her simply and he meant it more than she would ever know.
Her fingers tentatively played with the soft skin of his neck around the pressed collar of his shirt. She was very careful but seemed curious to explore him in this new offer of closeness. It was difficult to suppress the shivers wanting to run up his spine as her fingers traced a line to his jaw. Her thumb rubber lightly at his chin before her fingers made their way to draw out the pattern of his ear before massaging the fleshy lobe between her fingers. He could not help smiling and closing his eyes at the way it relaxed him.
After a while she began to pet his face in a wholly affectionate manner, brushing his cheek with the backs of her knuckles like he was something precious to be memorized. Such gentle gestures of love were not anything he was used to and he felt so unworthy it bordered on too much, but he leaned into the touch regardless. It only seemed natural when his own fingers traced her face similarly, committing to memory what he thought he might never see again. The touch of her hair was something he had long wished to partake in and he took his chance to indulge, running his hand deep into the thickness and massaging her scalp. Her hair was so soft, maybe the softest thing he ever remembered touching and it might get addictive.
He never meant for things to progress as they had but he would not lie to himself and say he regretted that they had. The desire for such intimacy had often entered his mind but he never let it linger. She touched him like she loved him and he had not felt such a thing since his mother died; no one else touched him like they were writing a letter of love in every stroke. It was not too shocking when they leaned together for a kiss.
Their lips smacked with a wet little noise, making his eyelids flutter. It was innocent, closed mouths, lips only barely parting, but it was erotic in its innocence. Just this had his head swimming faster than any clash of tongues and teeth ever had. She pressed into him, back arching to bring her closer. The underwire in her bra creaked with the effort to adjust her ample cleavage and the pressure of his chest, he heard it and it just made him pull her closer still, desperate for her the way he was for air. A distant part of his mind insisted that he take it slow and not rush her; no tongues tangling, no heavy petting, nothing to move it too fast too soon. He could not risk ruining it when he finally had her. They would kiss and cuddle, and that was all he would allow himself. Anything more might destroy the sweetness of the moment, cloud it over with lust to make him forget the details, and he wanted to remember every single second.
He desired to drown in her and forget that she had ever looked so helpless on those white sheets. She was alive and real in his arms and that was more gift than he could have dreamed possible to attain. The fact the she let him be so close and touch her while returning her own gift of touch was nothing short of miraculous. It was difficult to hold himself back from grinding against her but he resisted his more base instincts in favor of something much better than an few moments of lustful gratification. The tenderness was more gratifying in the long run and satisfied a much deeper need. They needed the closeness, they both did. A tumble in the hayloft would not satisfy the void that the understood step of surrender filled because there was a difference between lust and love. Neither needed to say it to understand what was being wordlessly offered.
The innocent kisses and equally innocent touches continued until they somehow drifted together into sleep.
When he woke it was morning and he extricated himself out from under a sleeping girl, not at all interested in just how badly he did not want to face a shotgun if Jonathan Kent came out and spotted him. He would drive away quietly and never let anyone be the wiser. Lex was quick but careful as he hurried down the steps, focused totally on getting to his car and escaping, so when Martha was suddenly in his path, a bemused smile on her face, he actually jumped at least a foot.
"Hello, Lex! Lovely morning, isn't it?" There was a twinkle in her eyes that he could not even begin to interpret with his heart in his throat.
He made a few indistinguishable noises that were decidedly not words before mumbling, "Mrs. Kent..."
"Relax," she still looked amused, "I already know where you were. I went up to the loft looking for Clair."
Lex swallowed hard, "It wasn't what it looked like! Nothing happened!" He felt fifteen again, and not in a good way.
"I believe you." She assured quietly, "I looked you two over and all the buttons and buckles were still in place. I was fairly confident you would have at least taken your coat off if you had any designs on my daughter. I know she was very upset last night so I'm actually kind of glad she had someone there for her. She closes herself off when she's hurting, but I'm sure you know that."
He nodded for lack of knowing what to say but then he found a few words, "I'm just glad she... is OK."
Martha had that unnerving sort of look that only a mother could, like they knew everything, "I know you are. So am I. She's a special girl, even if she doesn't realize it. We can see it even if she can't." She reached out and squeezed his hand, "I'm glad she has you, Lex. She needs someone on her side in this crazy world, someone she can trust."
He got the impression Mrs. Kent knew something he did not, or at least knew her daughter had told him a few things they would never admit, so he simply nodded once again, never having felt this tongue-tied before in his life.
When he turned to leave, she smiled and whispered, "Don't worry, I won't let Jonathan get the shotgun."
Lex could not help smiling back, touched in a very strange sort of way by that. They were a strange bunch, all of them.
Several Weeks Later
Things had soured a little from their night falling asleep in the loft after she found out about his new dealings thanks to AC. Then a little more after Jack Jennings dropped out of the senator race to be replaced by her father. They both held back a lot of cutting words and she knew it. They were both trying, but there was tension hanging in the air that both could feel. She missed the closeness they had in the loft. She still needed that even if it was wrong to lean on him.
Lex seemed to feel a little betrayed that she took no stand at all in her desire to see her father or him placed in the seat of power. The truth was that she did not care much for either option but she could tell neither man that. She understood their reasons, both of them, but she did not care much for what it might mean. It had her progressively more tense and tightly wound with them both.
Truth be told, she felt betrayed too, by a lot of things.
And he was leaving her now to go once again to rally his would-be troupes. The day before he had brushed her off when the group Lois once refereed to as Hitler's youth gathered in his office to listen to his inspiration. Watching those teens from the doorway had given her a deep sense of foreboding she could not place. She could not say she cared for the way the blonde girl looked at him either, and she honestly got the feeling Lex himself was a little unnerved as well though he did not show it in more than the slightest of tells. The group of college students seemed to come around more often than any of them cared for but it was a campaign so no one would say so.
But he was leaving her again and he hardly bothered to look at her once.
"So, you're rushing off again... you can't even take the time for a game of pool anymore, can you?" Clair intended to sound bored but she was not sure what she really sounded like.
"I wish I could but I have considerably more on my plate than I used to. I'm sure things will slow down eventually." He declined from really commenting on the race but she knew that undertone and she hated it.
"Will you be coming to our Christmas party?"
She watch the tension coil in his shoulders but he sounded very indifferent, "I have a meeting that night in Metropolis."
"Right, you would not want to be seen with the enemy. I'm sure I'm boring company anyway comparatively." She hedged, not sure where she was going with it but the fact that all he did was scoff spiked her into irrational... hurt. "I don't know moves like those girls in that club, so I'm sure I'm of little interest." Clair knew her eyes were all but spitting actual fire.
Lex halted in his turn, spinning back to her on one heel, jaw jutted to one side in a blatant show of irritation, "Excuse me?"
She cocked a hip, tapping into the very well known Lois attitude she had become so familiar with over her interminable stay at the farm, "What? I was only stating a fact. You had the card right in your card slot, you whipped it right out. It doesn't take Chloe to figure out you are a... frequent flier, does it?"
Lex smiled but it was not one of his pleasant ones, it was nearly murderous intent being disguised as friendliness, "I seem to remember giving you that card because you ran in here telling me your 'uncle' was being framed, would I please help you! Now, please explain to me how assisting you somehow offends you."
"Your help doesn't offend me, Lex, I was grateful. It's just that I couldn't help noticing, even though you said how unethical the place was, you still had the card in easy access. Now, that just struck me as interesting." She tapped her index finger to her lips, still channeling Lois the best she could, "Oh, but I guess you must take your prospective business associates and voters there often. Softens them up... or maybe not softens, poor chose of words."
She sort of wanted to mention that it might at least be an improvement over hooking up with crazy girls from parties that might try to burn him alive but she held that thought in.
His brows arched high and he huffed a laugh, "Oh, I see what this is. You're jealous."
Clair's jaw dropped in shock, "Jealous! Of a pack of tramps that can't keep their legs together? Are you kidding?"
He reached out surprisingly quickly to grab her wrist and jerked her flush against him. The move had shocked her enough she had forgotten to react and pull away. Heat rushed uncomfortably fast into her cheeks and she hoped he did not notice; the triumphant, sly smirk told her he noticed. He leaned in, running his fingers into her hair before he very boldly ran his tongue up the curve of her ear to make her squeak in shock.
She gave him a shove, slightly harder than she intended, making him stumble back, but the smirk remained, "Not even slightly winning you points, Lex."
"Are you sure? I could show you some interesting moves I can do with my hips... see how many points I could get that way." His tongue lapped at his lower lip suggestively.
Clair made a noise of indignation, "Narcissistic much? Lex...Alfredo Luthor!"
Lex burst out with a sharp laugh and a blinding smile that almost made her forget to be upset with him, "What now? My middle name is what again?" He shook his head, still grinning, "But you started it."
Her lips formed a smile against her will, "Did not. Alfredo." She wanted him to smile and look at her like that, not fight. She was angry with him and a little terrified of the future, but she wanted this.
His musical, deep little laugh was more charming than it had right to be, "I'm not changing my birth certificate, by the way. Hint: starts with a 'J'."
"Jigawat. I would have tried Gigolo but it's the wrong letter."
"Joseph. But valiant effort. Though I'm pretty sure I would be a very high class, high dollar gigolo."
She shrugged, "I'll call you what I want, but I don't think I'd pay much for you, too stuck up."
There was a playful gleam in his eyes that had her already backing away, "Oh, now you have gone too far, insulting my honor. I just cannot let that stand."
She screamed when he made a lunge for her, darting behind his desk and anything else in the room as he chased her. There was a strange rush of happiness, like having the age sucked right out of her to make her a child playing a game of tag. Whatever it was, they both seemed to be infected by it and there was something nice about it. The pool table was very effective until he climbed over it and forced her to relinquish the shield. The noise brought one of the security but he ducked right back out very quickly.
"Lex," she prompted, "don't you need to leave soon?"
"Mmm, once I've restored my honor." He purred at her as he stalked her around the couch.
"That won't happen." She raced for the door, at human speed, and snatched his jacket and keys while she went, "Victory shall always be mine, Mr. Alfredo!" She yelled as she bounded out the side door, trying to hide her childish giggle.
They lead a rather lively chase, skidding around corners, nearly taking out likely expensive things and a few people along the way. They were both acting like five year old's and it somehow did not matter. It was fun. Lex never got to be a kid, she knew, so maybe he could be now. Clair let him stay close, encouraging his efforts to let him think he was holding his own; she even made sure he could nearly touch her several time, she felt his fingers brush her hair more than once but he graciously did not use it to pull her to a stop. When she turned onto a dead end they both skidded comically, winding up colliding against the wall of said dead end.
Pressed together, she watched the way the blue of his eyes was nearly swallowed suddenly in black as he panted against her, the smile sliding slowly away. He kissed her like a desperate man, jaw dropped wide like he hoped to swallow her. When his tongue flicked the roof of her mouth she moaned a pleasured surprise. He never kissed her like this before and she could feel her body responding with a flood of hormones. When his hands traveled from her waist she suddenly remembered herself. Lust was not love... and she needed him to love her, she couldn't forget that. He could sleep with anyone but she could not be just anyone.
It was fun while it lasted. Pleasant to forget about rules and missions and destiny.
Clair swiftly ducked out from under him and moved behind, "You will be late."
He turned around slowly, still breathing heavily, but he nodded and took his jacket and keys from her outstretched hands. She tried not to notice how he intentionally held the jacket in front of his lap to cover a multitude of sins. Before he moved ahead he leaned in to give her a lingering kiss.
"I still win." She announced to his retreating back.
Lex looked back, smiling fondly, "Guess I didn't stand a chance, but don't think it's over. I'm a patient man, I will win eventually."
And perhaps, she thought as she stood frozen in place, he was right. There was no guarantee she would win anything. She had to win. She had to remember to think like a Luthor and not let her emotions get the better of her. She had to do better if she really planned to thwart destiny.
Note: Some of the stuff was just stuff I thought should have been a thing. Like I never understood how Clark got over Ryan so easily. I loved Ryan and I was so sad when he died. I never believed Clark would just shrug that one off and I wanted to write something where we saw the potential in all the hidden emotions surfacing.