Glass Hearts

Forgot to say this before: I own none of the main characters in this story, much as I would love to. And this goes for all coming chapters plus the prologue. Enjoy m'dears!

Chapter One - Paper Dolls

The room was whitewashed. Cold, naked white; streaked with dark red and brown stains in patches that made the purpose of the strange little room all too obvious. The air vent was a pale green, stained by the strange gas that was being filtered through and the floor, similarly stained to the wall, was littered with scraps of green stone. In one corner, hands roped together, was the crumpled form of a young man.

Blood trickled down his half naked body. His eyes were still tightly closed, his hands curled around his knees, huddling into a foetal position. He felt safer like this, as if he could block out the pain, hide from the men that he knew would come… he knew that once he opened his eyes, the battle would begin. He wasn't ready for it to begin, he wanted the world he lived in to go back to being safe.

If he let them, nightmares could climb the insides of his eyes… And no matter how much he cried out, no matter how loud he screamed, it didn't make his agony nor the intoxicating anguish any less.

The air always held that same scent, the metallic odour of blood as it oozed out of freshly carved wounds. Sometimes he tried to trick himself into believing there was no such thing as pain…. But he never could lie, not even to himself… He felt pain and suffering, he felt their razor sharp needles poking through his skin and taking away his blood... He wished he could cleanse himself from the disease that they tortured him for, hoped that it would go away…. But knew it never would… The disease was him and he was the problem of the world.

'No one cares… No one's looking for me… I hurt everyone… I destroy everything I love and they've all realised… I want … I need…. Please…' His eyes screwed up tightly as his thoughts blanked out the all consuming green that tore through the safety of the dark, 'I pushed them away… I hurt them… I hurt Lex…' "Lex…" he murmured, blood trickled out from his mouth.

"He's not coming." The Voice was back. The men… He could hear their breathing, the excited heart beats. He curled closer into himself before feeling the entrance of Kryptonite. He moaned and more blood oozed up from his throat.

The Voice, Lionel Luthor, tipped his face upwards, Clark's eyes peered up at him as they cracked open. Bloodshot and sore, the once vibrant blue eyes were now a dulled grey. Lionel smiled, he loved the way the Kent boy lay so helplessly broken before him, so weak and pathetic. "He doesn't care about you Kent. No body could care for a monster such as yourself."

"Filthy fucking alien…" he heard someone mutter.

Lionel only smiled, "Only a few more questions."

Clark tried to shake his head, tried to deny anything, everything in his mind. He didn't know anything. He didn't know any more than these men… Why couldn't they just stop? Why wouldn't they leave him here alone?

"Do we need to persuade you?" They were playing with him. Lionel smirked as undiluted terror ran across the boy's once noble feature, he knew that Clark Kent, 'Kal-el', didn't know anything more about his heritage than what was already told. He had taken everything from the boy. Everything he could take.

"Go ahead boys."

Kent was so weak, needles broke the once impenetrable skin and the krypton made blood bubble behind wounds, sliding scabs aside and trickling out. The men clenched their fists and their blows burnt and tears leaked down his face. He screamed.

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Cold grey eyes waited for Lionel Luthor as he entered his office. Cold grey eyes that burnt through him like molten mercury. There was no open expression, only indifference as the owner of those eyes dropped his feet from the oak desk to the floor so the man could stand. The movement was graceful but something about it sent sparks of unease down the older Luthor's spine. Not that it would show.

"Father." Lex Luthor stood, proud and arrogant as ever behind his desk.

Lionel's lips twisted into a smirk, "Lex, to what do I owe the pleasure."

But it wasn't going to be so easy this time, Luthor-Senior grimaced as a smile graced his son's lips, a perfectly fake smile, "I was in the area and thought I might as well pay a visit to my father."

"You don't expect me to believe that Lex," he half laughed, "We both know there is no love lost between us."

"Yes, well who's fault is that?"

They said all this with their false smiles in place and a familial air, despite the undertones of tension.

"Scotch?"

Lex's grey eyes searched him over, indifferent cold making Lionel feel less and less certain. Ever since Lexcorp had been founded the ground beneath their shoes had been less steady and the delicate stage they acted upon was falling apart, "I'll pass."

Lionel poured himself some, relishing the way the liquid amber flooded the glass and scented the room with it's perfect intoxication. He knew his son was up to something. The only question was: what? Straightening himself up, he wafted the glass close to his nose, delighting in the overwhelming scent that flood through him.

"I've a proposition father." Lex finally spoke, his eyes still piercing the foundations of Lionel's security net, "One I think you ought to hear."

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Every breath in rasped. Every breath out gargled with the blood locked in his throat and chest. Each gasp wheezed painfully as the hovering green air refused to allow him to heal. Blood trickled from unhealed wounds. The laughter of ghosts trickled into his head. Drifting him away… Taking the boy from the stars to fly as close to home as perhaps he ever would…

Shivers turned to nothing as the boy's muscles sagged. Limbs became limp as the gas flooded into him. Breathing quietened… Stopped… The heavy chest became completely still.

Behind a camera eyes widened, "Fuck!" Red lights began to flash as a hand slammed down on the panic button. Men, usually passive bullies, hired for their hatred and lust for pain crashed through into the room. One man, smaller than the rest stepped out to look for the boy's pulse. Blurred words and revolving faces trapped the room in a time of it's own.

"He needs help."

"He's a goddamn alien."

"He's dying! Fucking weak for the almighty conqueror now ain't he!" People were laughing as they trembled. If this kid died…

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-Alien- Flashed up on Lionel's pager. He frowned, glancing briefly at his son. He smiled slightly, lifting his lips in a sly smirk.

"I've got to go, son. Urgent business." He rose, saw that his son was making no move from his desk and a half scowl flickered into life, "I trust you'll see yourself out."

Lex merely nodded. His bald scalp catching the light in a semi-halo that made Lionel's eyes narrow with insanity. Impetuous youth, he had tried to make it crumble, tried to squash the rebellion he had always anticipated from his only son… And in that moment he knew he had failed.

Except in one thing. He had taken away the life source of his son's mutiny. How long before Lex realised the boy wasn't coming back and all the lies and deceit clouded his vision, all the distrust chocked him and smothered him in a fine shield of hate? He knew when Lex finally realised the wicked were meant to be alone the bald wretch would come whimpering back to him under a glamour of indifference.

Lionel turned, flowed out of the room with much less of the grace that he usually possessed. Lex smirked, watched the door close. Before turning to the 'sleeping' computer. He guessed this was where his father would keep anything he had on Clark, after all he hadn't seen his father use a pen for anything other that cheques since he was about five years old. Lex smiled grimly as the screen flickered into life.

-Where would he hide files on someone like Clark Kent… under what name? in what section? Side projects lept out from the list of files that popped up in his father's documents. He clicked the files tentatively, surprised he hadn't yet been asked for a password… Experiments, Luthorcorp, Lexcorp, Paranormal, Barbuda, Colonialism, Machiavellian… The list of side projects varied from the differences between their companies to a strange looking file called Team Sleep. Lex frowned, uncertain of where to go next...

"Hmmmm…. Camera?"

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"What seems to be the matter?" Lionel swept into the room, where the first man, the man in white coat was kneeling beside the unconscious form of his precious specimen. His mouth curled nastily over his teeth, there was something angry, almost feral about him as he glared at both doctor and patient.

"He's dying, sir." The doctor could barely muster those few words under Lionel's stare.

"Who says he is?"

The doctor looked flabbergasted at the question alone and spluttered quietly, "Well I do, sir… His pulse is barely there, he's not breathing on his own sir," the feeble man waved a hand over the thin tube that had been forced down Clark throat with a desperate expression crossing over his face, "He's not going to survive unless he get's some proper care."

"It's your job not to let him die." Lionel's voice went deathly calm, the quiet speech almost spat through his teeth.

"Then can I-"

"Do anything you must. He only needs to survive the week. Then we'll finish this little… experiment… for good." The glimmer in his eyes, the insanity of his entrance, faded as he came down to Clark's level. He lifted the lifeless face by the chin, running a finger over the bloodless lips, "So much for the world's conqueror. Pathetic." He let go, letting the head drop back, "Keep him alive doctor. Otherwise his wont be the only body to leave this building in a bag."

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Tears stung in the grey eyes, watching and not being able to help… Lex's mansion was silent except for the thrum of his computer as it played his father's movie show. Clark's eyes widening in pain and shock as green liquid was injected into his arm. Clark falling sick and weak to the floor as masked men advanced on him. Clark's perfect mouth widening in a soundless scream, blood spitting out over his lips. Clark as his chest heaved and his eyes glazed and his tears mixed with the blood on his face.

"Clark…"

File after file were now saved on disk, loading on to his computer as he watched in sick fascination the agony and hopelessness on his one-time best friend's face. As he slept and as he had nightmares, as he awoke screaming with terror in his eyes and painful cries shaking his shoulders. Sometimes just the shape of the waking screams could convince Lex that Clark was calling out for him… But he knew that wasn't going to be true.

In disgust he turned from the film to the files. Alien had been the title. Unoriginal as it turned out to be; Lex still felt himself crumble as he understood his friend's secrecy.

Name: Clark Kent

Age: 19

Heritage: Alien from planet Krypton

Stats: Humanoid. 6'1. Broad shoulders, muscular. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Tanned skin. Five fingers and toes. Appears like a typical human male with similar reactions.

Super strength and speed. Shoots fire from eyes. X-ray vision. Hovers. Becomes ill and weak when in the presence of green meteor rock.

Discovered living in Smallville, apparently aware of powers and biological origin but under secret identity. Fell in meteor shower that caused the mutations in the town.

Lex read, patiently pondering if this was what Clark's lies revolved around entirely? Had Clark been just as scared of rejection and people's prejudices as Lex himself had been? Did the boy blame himself? Was that why he had always run to help the people who were effected? Was that the only reason he had been Lex's friend? Guilt? So many questions and only one person who could answer them… Lex's heart welled up in his throat, knowing in his heart it had been fear and his father that had maintained his silence, and were now the reason for his imprisonment and torture…

Did Martha and Jonathon know? He doubted it… Otherwise there would have been gossip before now... It would probably be best to keep it that way for now… Until Clark was safe, there was no point in worrying the older couple.

"You have to save that kid Lex…" he murmured to himself, "No matter what he is…He'll always be Clark…"

He cringed inwardly as he realised not only had he been talking to himself but at the corniness of his statement. The boy had mad him so soft… But then again it was only for him, no one else would ever make him feel as safe and warm as Clark had.

His lips on mine… That time by the river, alone, perfect. He could remember that taste as he had awoken, the security in Clark's arms and hands. He could imagine those hands playing up and down his body, waking him up, saving him. He could imagine those lips travelling down across his throat to his chest and collarbone. Their hips melding as they became so close and their love, their connection deepening each movement the other made.

"Oh Clark…" He moaned and placed his head on the table. He shouldn't be thinking of this now… He need to save him… Needed to bring him home, "Clark…"

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"LEX!"

Clark's eyes snapped open with his scream. He was tied down, panting, sweating and cold… His throat was hoarse, his body felt fragile but not with the same weakness as before. He was so cold… freezing… He glanced feverishly out of the corner of his eye. Dark, greasy hair hung limply over his already blurry vision and the world swayed.

"You're awake…" A face, leering over him in a hazy mass of spectacles and skin swum into view.

The boy cowered away, trying to shift within his bond. Why was he strapped down like this? Where was he?

"You're in Mister Luthor's private room," The man pulled a expression above him, making his nose slide off onto his indistinct second face, "I don't suppose it really matters… You have no say in it."

He had spoken aloud. His eyes seemed to enlarge as his situation sank in. They were going to hurt him again. They were going to cut him open like they had before, "Please…" He rasped, this time hearing his voice, "Don't… Don't…" He no longer sounded like himself. A feeble, gravely voice scratching out across his throat.

The man's features became clearer, his nose settling back on his face and Clark almost thought he recognised him. Dark skin, thin nose… "I don't have any say in it either. I just got to keep you alive."

"Don't…" Clark tried to work more out, "Lex…"

The man moved closer, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm going to knock you out now, son. Lex can't help you now…"

"NO!" Clark shook, pulling away from the man's touch on his head, "You - you don't understand! You don't… you don't…"

"He understands perfectly my dear little space invader." Lionel Luthor, prowled into the room with a slight purr as he saw the wide eyed boy wither into his restraints. The doctor disappeared from view, "He is, after all, the one who will be looking after you so well on Monday."

Clark's eyes dimmed and rolled round in their sockets to glace fearfully at the crinkled doctor. The man had gone rigid, as if in rigor mortis, at Lionel's declaration, "Monday, sir? What's happening on –"

"We finalise our experiments." Lionel bent down very close to the trembling patients ear, "Enjoy these few days of quiet, Mr. Kent; because soon enough, we're going to make your blood burn, take your skin from your bone and see your alien insides. We're going to make your eyes bleed and your power… you're glorious power… We will take it for ourselves."

Pressure fell on Clark's temples and darkness filled his mind, haunted by mocking laughter that tore into his nightmarish dreams.

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-You have one new message - flashed in black lettering across the small telephonic screen. Lex's brow puckered, this was his private line, the few people who knew it had seen him today. Those people being Lana, the Kents, Chloe and Pete, and Clark… But Clark wouldn't be calling him today. He selected it, holding the phone to his ear… Listening… as latin words filled into his mind. He blinked, instantly turning it back to the beginning so he might listen properly…

"Mister Luthor, this is Doctor Thomas. I'm a worker of your fathers."

Did he want to here the rest? Lex's scowl deepened,

"I have some news that may or may not interest you… After all it's been a few days since you enquired after a Mister Clark Kent in Metropolis, maybe you've already heard… A colleague of mine, Doctor Wilsher recently informed me of an experiment that he has been told he is to perform on a specimen known to us as 'ET' - an alien that appears human. The doctor himself was distraught, he broke down having been told and came to me, in confidence, I might add. I have never spent more than minutes with the specimen myself but having seen Wilsher in such a state, having heard his account of what he is to do… I knew I could not stand by… I've seen so much done to that boy, for a long time now Mister Luthor and… They wanna flay him, sir, take his blood and replace it with a liquidised form of the meteor rock. It'll kill him… Really kill that boy, and that's all he really is and he calls out for you Mister Luthor, I don't know what else I can do but tell you what I know, I can't… can't do anything more..."

Lex's skin was riddled with goosebumps, could all that this man was saying be true? How much time did they have… before… The voice continued in it's strange Latin sibilance, telling him where the boy was, his condition, how little time there was… The detail of his containment.

"Leave a message on the Cambridge Latin website under a pseudonym of Salvius if you believe there is any more I can help you with. Just if you can help that poor child… do…"

The emotion in the stranger's voice made Lex feel numb, the compassion was there, but he was dread to believe that the man was on his side. If this was a trap on his father's part and he fell into it then there would be no end to the hell his life would become. But this could be his only chance to save his angel. He had to grasp at threads so he could make a rope and he would have to pray this strand was strong enough hold him.

"I've gotta go now Mister Luthor, if you can find the kindness in your heart then you will grant salvation to this boy who so painfully calls your name… Goodbye."

Lex was left with a dead line and his heart thumping in his chest. He looked dazedly at his computer screen. The graphic details of Clark's torture still stared back at him from the screen. Each experiment laced together into a brutal attack on a defenceless child. Dr Thomas was right on one account, Clark was still a boy, still too young to fully understand the world, still innocently naïve. Slowly the cursor went to his internet link… Cambridge Latin only took a moment to load.

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Darkness fell with sun as it dropped out of the sky. Men in dark coats and carrying their briefcases either headed for the nearest taxi or followed shadows into the night time world of lights and lust. Lex breathed in the smells of the city, remembering how many times he had staggered the street, uproariously drunk and high as the starry sky above. He remembered gazing into windows and seeing his reflection, alabaster white skin and kohl marked eyes tilting to wish upon the next pill or line he could find.

He smiled, those were good times, numb times, when he had felt alive within a dying shell. Then he had died… and lived again… Thanks to the boy trapped inside the onyx obelisk piercing through the flaring lights. You couldn't see through the darkened glass windows, couldn't enter without a pass.

"Mister Luthor." A voice came from behind him, paler than on the phone, but still as recognisable, "I'm glad you came…" Though not a little surprised apparently. Lex loved being able to read people. He was a master of masks, any open emotion became transparent to a person such as himself.

"Lex." The younger man said with a reserved smirk, "I'm not my father, Dr Thomas."

"Yes… Quite…" The man seemed flustered, his eyes darting backwards and forwards between Lex and the building rising above the masses not so far away.

"I hope you're not lying to me, Thomas, I hate being lied to." Lex whispered, the threat spoken with a deceptive innocence.

"I'm not lying Mist- Lex… I couldn't… Not after…" The man's eyes reached out to his, "That boy's been destroyed… He was so strong…"

"Then get me in there so I can help him." He leant forward slightly, imploringly… The man's thick eyebrows knitted together over his small, squinting eyes. Lex realised then that there was no way he could walk into that building with detection. "I can't can I?"

"No… You need retina and fingerprint identification. You can't get in there." Doctor Thomas shuffled his feet slightly over the dirty pavement, "I thought maybe I could get him out… If you'd only create a big enough distraction… I thought maybe… Maybe if you could pretend to be someone else and try and break in…. or hire someone… then I could get him out in the commotion and you could take him away from here… But-" Now the doctor began to look ashamed, "But I won't do anything unless you do something for me too."

Lex had seen it coming. He knew no one did anything if it didn't help themselves in the long run. It was a business manoeuvre, planned and payable.

"Save me from your father too." That wasn't so expected, "Send me somewhere he can't get me anymore…" Desperation laced the man's voice and eyes.

Lex pitied him but he nodded leisurely, "I could have a plane leaving from Metropolis airport going anywhere in the world at a word. I can guarantee your safe passage… As long as you provide his. Deal?"

The doctor accepted the proffered hand. Their touch sealed two fates and left one hanging in a tenuous balance between them.

"Give me an hour." Lex smirked, pulling away from the white-coats presence and turning to vanish out into the city's overwhelming darkness.

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The strange hospital room was silent. Clark's eyes fluttered open, their azure glow diminished by the green rock by his side. His mouth was open in a silent plea and he could feel his heart in his chest. He could hear someone so close by that he wanted to turn and look, the clatter of metal on a surface near to his feet made him flinch but it was s all he could do. He was so weak he no longer knew if his body was even able to work any more… the sickness seemed so permanent and the pain ever more omnipresent.

Lex was never going to come… No one was ever going to help him… Sometimes he could almost imagine the silvery grey glow of the overcast winter sky that he tried to believe was brighter outside the dense walls of his white cage. He couldn't remember his parent's face, the way his mother spoke or his father's encouraging hand… He knew he had pushed them away when he'd become Kal-el… He knew it and knew he deserved what was happening to him… So the grey sky pealing over his imagination failed and he came back to rest in leather bonds…

A whining noise pierced the air. The bustling stopped and feet ran to a door that swung shut behind it with a slam.

People were shouting.

People were running. The faint scent of smoke threaded into his nose.

And someone was throwing the green rock away from the room down the corridor. His hearing had sharpened and his limbs… he could feel his fingers, his feet…

"Can you walk if I help you?" A smooth voice whispered into his ear, hands were fumbling with the buckled straps across his chest, his arms, his legs… "I'm going to get you home, kiddo."

"Home?" he mumbled faintly as thin arms wound themselves around his wasted chest and lifted him upwards. He could almost feel the poison in his veins, the green vial's contents making him malleable in this stranger's grip. He staggered with the support, legs unable to keep up the pace. No one looked their way. Not the doctors nor the faceless men in suits. People wanted to escape the tendrils of smoke that were rising from the cracks beneath closed doors.

Half staggering, half dragged Clark was in a daze, his eyes were foggy and sore, his vision spinning madly about him. There were men scurrying with masks on their faces and blood across their clothes. There were rooms with gaping doors and strange faces he half recognised hanging in oozing red liquids. There were shouts that he could hear for miles. He couldn't make out the words of his rescuer. Everything was drowning in the mass of churning, running bodies and negative images made by them. Was this a joke?

Thought became clearer the more he moved away from the room but his strength was not back, not yet. He managed to walk with less and less falls but knew that something was wrong. Where were they now? Corridor after corridor, steps after steps, door after door… Darkness was clouding his waking senses, snapping over his eyes.

"You don't want to see this…" the man whispered. Clark whimpered, the blindfold torturing his mind as he smelt the scent of blood and gore on the surfaces of this latest room. His eyes flashed into X-ray and back and he fell aimlessly towards the door they seemed to be heading too. He could see the knives, the vials of blood, the x-ray portraits through his miserable eyes and he tried not to scream. This was here they had cut him open… He knew it was….

"I'm sorry…"

They staggered together down the next corridor… down and out… out into cool night air. Clark was allowed to see as soon as they were away from the room and tears had pricked in his eyes. The black alleyway was deserted but the slight breeze ripped at his semi-naked body. Gasping at the gentle touch of freedom, he shivered slightly… The stars were blocked by the lights streaming out of the city but he could remember them being up there now…

"This way, kiddo." The arm lead him towards the next road and he hobbled as fast as he could with the other man.

"Where…" He croaked as they made it out, diving into the shadow of the buildings so to hide their escape.

"Just down here… Just around the corner." The man had a scared expression on his face, picking up the pace a s he glanced behind them. He was afraid of being followed too… He knew they would both be taken back if they were caught. Clark trembled.

"Don't let them catch us…" He said as loud as he could, his voice shaking, "Don't…"

The man looked at him for a second, still supporting him as they rounded the corner, "Don't ask me. Ask your saviour."

The sleek form of a car snoozed in the silent street, a silhouette lounging on its side. The man stopped. The profile turned out of the shadow and emerged in the light. Cool grey eyes became concerned, flawless alabaster face sinking into a furrowed, worried expression.

"L… Le… Lex…" Clark stammered, tears trickling down his face. This was a dream… another cruel creation of his imagination… He mumbled and his support left him to sink into the open embrace of his best friend. He began to sob, hating himself more and more for letting himself dream like this… He should have known it was too good… Too real to be true…

"Shhh…" Lex soothed into his ear, "Hush it's ok… I'm here now." The smooth, gentle caress travelled through his body, "It's gonna be alright…"

Clark's leg gave in and Lex lifted him to the car, "Stay here angel. I'll be two minutes…"

Clark waited to wake up. Lex always disappeared now, always left him behind in reality. He reached for the leaching hand, "I don't want to wake up…" He begged, his sobs making him snuffle.

"You're not going to." Lex smiled gently, that special smile Clark had only ever seen for him, "I'll be right back."

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He was in a worse condition than he had expected, Lex carefully shut the door to the limo so Clark didn't have to hear him as he gave Dr Thomas his flight tickets and details. A new passport which was really a carefully constructed fabrication on the truth and then the information on where he was going this week and the week after.

"After that it's up to you Doctor." He smiled slightly, "Thank you for what you've done."

The man nodded, "I couldn't let him just die…" The compassion was so false, the lie so perfectly old even Lex wanted to believe it… But he didn't.

"Yes you could. And you would have if you hadn't realised his connection to me." Lex replied, smile vanishing, "Go Mr Thom. I've an angel to look after now."

The Doctor's face grew cold and he tuned abruptly, stalking into the open road. Lex turned away, knowing that waiting for him was the boy who's eyes had shattered and who's heart he would have to mend.

WHOO HOO well that's it for this chapter, thank you for the reviews I've already received, I hope you guys continue to enjoy it and that it wasn't to nasty to the poor little paper doll! Anywhoodle there's more to come so who knows what will happen next… I think we may spend some time with the duo for a while in Smallville and then head over to Switzerland for some mountain fun! Adios chicklets and chickadees!

Matt xxx

Chapter Two - Tainted Love