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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 18:40:55 GMT -5
Chapter 29 - ...Of The End
By the time Wendy made it to Winchester Hall the crowd was already starting to disperse. She cursed under her breath as she pushed her way through the remnants of the crowd to the line of police tape and remaining spectators. When she came to the front she was standing right next to Corinne.
The goth was standing, shell shocked, staring at the bloodstained grass and mulling police.
"Corinne, what happened?"
Black painted lips opened, closed, and then opened again. They closed once more as Corinne swallowed in an attempt to speak. "She fell."
"She fell?" Wendy stared at the taller girl. "Who fell? Corinne, what's going on?"
"She fell. And they...tried. Vice Principal Trendle got a call on her cell a few minutes ago from the hospital. She died before they could even get her there. Dead on arrival."
Died? Wendy was beginning to seriously worry. Someone had died? What was going on here? "Who died?"
"Sullivan." Corinne said, still looking shell-shocked. "It was Sullivan.
"No."
"Miller, I- " Corinne started but she was cut off.
"No!" Wendy screamed. She started to run towards the building but a policeman caught her. "It wasn't her! How dare you!" She struggled to get herself free of the cop's strong grip. "Let me go, goddamn it!"
"You were friends weren't you? With Miss Sullivan?" he asked, his voice filled with sympathy and pity. "I'm sorry for your loss." His grip on her arms loosened as he spoke.
"No," she whispered, her eyes darting over to Corinne. She still looked shell shocked but was able to meet her gaze and nod in confirmation. A single black tinted tear rolled down the goth's face. "NO!"
Wendy jerked free of the cop's weak grip and tore off into the building. She raced up the stairs six flights of stairs and into her dorm room.
Jesus, it was cold. The window was gone, nothing but bits of glass still valiantly clinging to the window frame. And freezing February wind blew into the room dropping the temperature.
Wendy looked at Chloe's made bed, which she hadn't slept in it the night before, and her messy closet. It was as though at any moment her friend would walk through the door and start talking about classes or Lex.
"Oh god." Wendy breathed at the thought. "Lex." She looked frantically around, desperately seeking answers. "What am I going to tell Lex?"
~*~*~
The whole campus was buzzing. Someone had fallen. The cops were here. The word "died" was floating around and people had gathered near Winchester Hall.
Lex found out before he ever made it back to his dorm and took off towards the dormitory. He needed to check on Chloe and Wendy. He needed to be sure
When he got there, police tape was everywhere and there was a small crowd watching the police mull around.
Lex worked his way to the front of the crowd. There was blood in the grass, turning brown as it dried.
"Do you know what happened here?" Lex asked a tall, heavyset boy who stood near him.
"Some girl fell through a window on the top floor. I heard she died." He said as he shivered in the icy February weather. "It's really awful, man."
Lex didn't wait to hear more. He quietly worked his way through the crowd and moved around to the entrance of the building. He snuck easily inside and climbed up the stairs to Chloe's floor.
He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting to see when he opened the door to the dorm but Wendy sitting on Chloe's bed trying to stop her tears was not it. "Wendy?"
"Lex, I..."her voice broke on a sob.
"Wendy?"
Wendy looked wildly around the room. "There's been an accident."
"What kind of accident?" Lex asked, trying his best to remain calm. "Wendy, where is Chloe?"
"She fell.”
“What do you mean she fell?”
“She must have tripped or something,“ Wendy said, sounding slightly hysterical as she pointed to the broken window.
Lex blinked, unwilling to believe what he was hearing. This was a dream. A nightmare. And he was certain that if he waited long enough, he would wake up and Chloe would still be here. He would find that none of this was real. None of it.
"Wendy, I think you're confused. You must have heard wrong. Because she can't be dead. I just saw her a few hours ago.” He gestured wildly towards the window, angry at her lying to him like this. How dare she, of all people, try to pull this bullshit with him? “The cops have to have seen the window. It's just vandalism."
Wendy had to be wrong she had to be.
"Lex," her lower lip trembled and a fresh flood of tears poured down her face. "Lex, please…look at the window. Listen to the police. If you have to…go down and look at the…the blood. Corinne saw…she saw…" She stopped as her voice hiccupped on a sob. "She's gone, Lex. She's really…oh, God."
“She is not gone! She’s not…” Lex trailed off. Pain ripped through his chest. The same pain he'd felt with his mother had died.
Wendy was still crying, on the verge of hyperventilating. "Lex, she saw, Chloe. Corinne saw her bo-," Wendy couldn't even say the word out loud. "When she fell. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
And then he could see it. In the way Wendy was sitting curled up in a ball, in the look on her face, in the tears in her eyes. It was real.
"No."
Lex took in a shuddering breath. It wasn't fair. Every time he loved someone, they were torn away from him. God, why Chloe? Why? Goddamn it, this was not fair! She was so vibrant and bright. And with the reality of the situation sinking in, he felt like all the color was draining from his world.
"No."
"Lex." Wendy said, her words broken by sobs. "I'm…Lex, I'm sorry."
"Get out."
"Please, Lex, I lost her too."
"Get. The. Fuck. Out."
He didn't hear Wendy run out of the room, crying. He didn't hear the door slam shut. He just heard a rush of white noise that blocked everything else out.
Like a zombie, Lex moved to through her room. Her pictures, her books, her clothes, everything was as she'd left it. His fingers touching everything she'd once touch, trying to capture a piece of her that still reminded in the cold room.
He was completely numb, as if he were a stranger in his own body. And whatever was running the rest of him moved him to lie down on her bed. He could smell the scent of her hair in the fabric of her pillowcase.
A rush of images of Chloe assailed him. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her smart mouth. The first time he saw her comet tattoo. He saw her in his boxers and Metallica shirt, claiming the garments and his heart as her own. He could taste her in his mouth and smell her around him. He could feel her in his arms. He could see the faint bruises on her hips left by his fingers from their lovemaking.
She was so vibrant. So beautiful. How could she be gone?
God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't imagine facing the world without her. How was he supposed to keep going?
It was all too much. He just broke. He tucked his knees up to his chest as his body was racked with harsh sobs, his face buried in her pillow. And he lay there until he heard the footsteps of policemen thumping down the hall to her room sometime later to finish their investigation.
~*~*~
Wally was sitting at home when the phone rang. His boss was on vacation so he'd cut out of work an hour early and was home in time to catch a rerun of the Simpsons. Using his speed he muted the TV and grabbed the phone, answering before the first wring tone was done.
He tucked the headset in the crook of his neck before speaking. "Y'ello?"
"Wally?"
He sat up at the sound of Wendy's voice. Usually this was the point where he would have smiled at getting her phone call and made a cocky innuendo. But this time her voice was wavering and shaky. "Wen?"
"She's dead. Jesus Wally, she's dead. And Lex has locked himself in his room, and Corinne's disappeared, and I just need you right now."
She always went so fast. It was hard for him to keep up with her sometimes. "Whoa, baby, slow down. Slow down. Lets take this from the top. Who is dead?"
"Chloe, my friend Chloe."
More than a regular run-of-the-mill around-campus friend, Wally surmised from the utterly broken quality of Wendy's voice. "This girl, she's your best friend isn't she, babe?"
Wendy didn't answer him. Instead she whispered. "She fell."
A mental image of splattered internal organs made Wally wince. "Jesus, baby, I am so sorry." Wally suddenly realized that it had been over a month since he'd held her. And he suddenly wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms, safe.
"Lex is having a melt down. I tried. I tried everything. But he won’t...he won’t let me help him." God, she sounded so hopeless. "It's like he's dying inside. Like he's dying with her."
Lex. Lex Luthor. That name Wally recognized. He was one of Wendy's close friends and from the sound of it he was Chloe's significant other as well. Jesus Christ on a crutch, this must be hard for him. But for some reason, it bothered him more that Lex's grief was hurting Wendy than that the man was in pain itself. "At least he knows you're there for him."
"He doesn't. He's shut me out. And...I can't go to Chloe for advice about it because-because...Wally?"
Wally swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "Yeah, baby?"
"How soon can you be here? I just," She sighed heavily. "I need to see you. Please."
His heart tightened in his chest at the sound of her, so small and sad. It was so different from his Wendy: strong, spunky, and full of spark.
"Where are you?"
"Hampton Prep."
"I can be there fifteen minutes." Lie. He could be there in fifteen seconds but that would be a wee bit suspicious.
"Please. I need you."
"Coming, baby."
He made it to his car, a sleek black number built like him- for speed, in less than a second. And it only took him ten minutes to get to Hampton Prep. Wendy was waiting for him in the visitor parking lot.
He was out of his car and had her in his arms in the blink of an eye. And then he heard her crying. She was sobbing, heartbroken into his rumbled shirt. He hugged her tighter as her hands fisted in the fabric and her sobs reached a plateau and became a soft keening cry.
Wally kissed the crown of her head and soothed her hair. He rubbed her back with gentle hands. He let her cry herself out. He let her do anything to help her deal with the pain. "I know it hurts, baby. I'm here, Wendy."
She chuckled on hitching breath. She'd cried so hard she'd started hyperventilating. But she was calming now. "Thanks, Wally. I wouldn't have known you were here if you hadn't told me just now."
Wally could tell she was joking when she kissed him. He could tell she was still hurting when she shoved him into the back seat of his car, clutching at him and needing to feel alive. And Wally knew she would heal when, in the afterglow, she told him about how she'd met her best friend, Chloe.
~*~*~
Gary Noble and Francis Humfrey were both on their way to being well and truly shitfaced. And after watching a girl, bleeding internally and in critical condition, grow transparent and then disappear into thin fucking air both men felt they were entitled.
"Weird shit,” Humfrey muttered for the umpteenth time before downing another shot of Jack.
"Very,” Noble agreed for the same numbered time.
Both were experienced EMTs, Noble had been working for seven years and Humfrey for five. So both men had seem some freaky things before, including a guy who managed to get a live hamster stuck in a very embarrassing place. But that was nothing compared to today.
They'd been a little over ten minutes from Sacred Heart when she'd faded out like a specter in a ghost movie. Panicked and confused, they'd called Gary's uncle. People always gave Noble shit for being the nephew of the hospital administrator. But he'd gotten his job on the sweat of his brow. He just had a higher power to call on with the shit hit the fan.
Hal Noble had put his nephew on hold for three minutes as he speed dialed the hospital's leading benefactor. Mr. Luthor's advice had been succinct and very helpful. After receiving his instructions, Noble had contacted his nephew, instructing him to pull up to the morgue entrance. No sense in stopping up ER traffic with a body that wasn't there.
Neither knew that Hal had then called Hampton Prep's Vice Principal's direct cell phone to deliver the "bad news." The body used in her stead, a Jane Doe suicide, had been exhumed from the morgue. Within twenty-four hours "Chloe Sullivan" had been buried in a small grave in Harbor Cemetery. They did know that the girl had been marked as dead on arrival.
Gary Noble and Francis Humfrey went, once, to visit the grave, about two days after the false body was buried. Gary thought it was nice of Humfrey to have brought the girl flowers. And as he watched his friend lay the white lilies under the simple words Rest in Peace on a plain headstone with no date only her name, Noble wondered where she was.
~*~*~
"Alex are you ok?" Julian asked looking at his brother. He'd been in the same sprawled position on his bed with the same CD on repeat for days.
Corinne had called him at school. She hadn't called him, per say. She'd just left 27, and he'd counted, messages on his machine. And when he'd finally gotten in touch with his sort-of girlfriend later that evening, he'd fallen flat on his ass at the news
As soon as he'd pulled himself off the floor, he'd gone to the dean of students, explained that his "sister-in-law" had just died and his brother would need him. He'd gotten his reading assignments from his professors up through the next three weeks(most of which he'd already finished) and was on a train to Boston the next day.
He'd talked to Wendy and Corinne (who had needed what she called a 'funeral fuck' first, which had involved her pretending not to cry into his shoulder as they made love) and they'd told him the situation.
Lex was not speaking to either of them anymore. Apparently once the reality of the situation had sunk in, Lex had sort of lost it. That was nearly a month ago and Julian was starting to worry and Lex was starting to smell.
"No." Came the deadpan reply. But it was better than nothing. It was the first time in weeks Lex had said anything to anyone.
Jules sighed and admitted to himself that it had been a really stupid question to ask. His brother had just lost the most important person in his world.
"Can I do anything?"
"Julian, shut the fuck up and go away. And if you tell Dad about any of this, I will beat you so hard, you won't be able to walk for a month." Lex growled.
"You would have to get up to do that. And I haven't seen you move in three days." Julian answered smiling slightly.
"Go to hell, Wonder Boy."
"I can't. You look like a skeleton, Alex. You haven't eaten in a week. You haven't slept in almost two weeks. All you do is lay there, starring at the fucking ceiling, and listening to her CDs. You'll burn them out at this rate you know," Julian said, hoping to get a rise out of him. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but notice that Corinne's cursing was rubbing off on him.
"I made copies," Lex said not moving a muscle.
Julian grabbed him by the front of his Metallica shirt and jerked him out of bed. Lex's legs, weak from disuse, gave out and he crumpled to the floor.
"You are a disgusting mess. At least change your shirt for Christ's sake," Julian said, looking down at his older brother.
"Yeah and you are an annoying, geeky, oversized rodent." Lex sighed and leaned his head back on the edge of his bed. "She took my clothes when she left, after we made love. She wore a pair of my boxers and this shirt even though it was freezing out. She didn't give them back. She wore them more in the month she had them then I did in a year," Lex said quietly. "Sometimes I think I still smell her scent in the fabric."
He could feel the pain of loss rip through his chest. He wanted her back. He needed her back. But all his money and power and connections couldn't bring back the dead. Just like none of it could give him back his mother or his baby sister.
"Alex," was all Julian could manage at that. He sank down on the floor next to his brother. He didn't touch him, knowing there was no way in hell Lex would accept it, but his closeness offering support anyway. And for once, Lex took what he offered.
"I was always better when I was with her. She changed me, made me feel alive. And I can't stop loving her even through she isn't here and missing her is killing me inside." He chuckled sadly. "I can't believe I just said that to you of all people."
"I won't exploit the fact that you're in mourning. You have to know that. And you know she wouldn't want you to hurt. She did everything she did to make you happy; and now you're here wasting away from pain. Try to let go." Julian said softly.
"Remember what it was like when we lost Mom and Lena?" Lex asked him in that same dead voice he'd been using through the whole conversation.
I remember you, Jules thought. I remember you angry, hateful, and reclusive. I remember hearing you crying through the door of your locked room. Don't hide from me like you did then. But he didn't say all that. He simply said, "Yes."
"Did the pain ever go away for you, Jules?"
Julian sighed heavily. He wasn't one to lie when asked a direct question. "No"
"Then you have a vague idea of what I'm living in right now. This..."Lex gestured at the room to indicate the almost visible despair that filled the room, "is never going to go away. And despite what people say, the ache never eases up. You just grow accustomed to it. When I'm used to it, I'll be back to my old asshole self. And I'm sure you’ll be ecstatic."
"For what its worth Alex, I'm here for you."
"I know Jules, now get out."
"You getting back in bed?" Julian asked before he headed out of Lex's room.
"Yeah, but I think I'm going to shower first."
Julian shook his head and left the room. Lex would be all right. He always was. He had to be.
~*~*~
Chloe woke with a gasp. Her eyes darted around, desperate for something solid.
"Chloe? Calm down, Sweetheart. It's all right. You're all right."
"Dad?" Chloe stared stupidly at her father. Her father was standing next to her bed, stroking her hand. "What are you doing here?"
Gabe smiled at her. "You got hit by a car. A truck actually. You're lucky to be alive, let alone so healthy. It's a miracle." Her father kissed her hand. "Clark brought you to the hospital."
"I missed you Daddy,” Chloe said softly. And she had. But she still had to be sure of what was happening. "What's the date?"
Her father smiled indulgently at her. "October twenty-third. You've only lost two days. You were so very lucky, Chloe. "
"The date, Daddy. With the year." Something felt different. Things were different. Hell her father was standing right in front of her.
Gabe looked down at his only child with concern but indulged her. "June 23, 2002."
She was back. She could practically hear Christopher Lloyd yelling 'back to the future!' Which meant she had hadn't had a chance to tell Lex, to tell anyone what was happening. This was not good. Not good at all. "Oh shit."
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 18:41:51 GMT -5
Chapter 30 - Unexpected
New York City, NY § early July, 1998
Jules had never been to Greenwich Village before. His father tended to keep him and his brother, not that Lex had ever did what he was told, in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. But Corinne's apartment was in the Village so there he was, standing on the street like an idiot, trying to find his girlfriend's new apartment. It was Independence Day and they were supposed to head to the Statue of Liberty for the fireworks later. Of course, there would be no fireworks if he could not find where Corinne lived.
"You lost, hun?"
Jules turned and blinked. The voice that had asked him had most definitely been male, heavily lined with a Brooklyn accent. But a large Hispanic woman was standing in front of him.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're lost, aren't you cutie?"
Jules blinked at the smiling transvestite. He'd never actually met a real cross-dresser before and felt the ridiculously embarrassing urge to ask her questions. But he contained his fascination and instead shot her a smile that had worked for his brother for years.
"I'm looking for 6th and King. Is that near here? My girlfriend's directions weren't that specific..." Jules trailed off sheepishly.
"You're not a city boy are you?"
"I am. Just not this city."
"Come on cutie. It's just a couple blocks away. Let Tasha walk you there,” Tasha said, smiling widely. The cross-dresser had a smile that was infectious and Jules found himself smiling back. "So you've got a girlfriend huh? I can hear hearts breaking all over the country."
"Yeah, well Corinne's special."
"Delaney? You're dating Delaney? That crazy pink-haired bitch on 6th?" Tasha whistled low and long. "You're more man than I am, cutie. That girl is a hard ass."
Jules smiled warmly. Her hair was pink now? Maybe his girl was softening up a little. "I know."
Tasha laughed, a low deep man's laugh. It unnerved Julian a little coming out of such a feminine presence, but it was nice nonetheless.
"You are just too much, Hun. Very sweet how much you dig your woman. Every girl should have that."
"Thank you."
"How old are you, Hun?"
"Old enough,” Jules said vaguely, looking around at the street. Fifteen was old enough...for Corinne. But he pushed the age difference out of his mind to focus on the street instead.
Eclectically dressed venders stood at intervals on the street, as did homeless panhandlers. The door to a store selling used vintage clothes was open and the thick smell of incense and marijuana floated out, making him feel slightly nauseated. The buildings looked older and more lived in than the clean stones in the Upper West Side. The whole place seemed more alive than anywhere he'd ever been in his life.
"So, you're jailbait huh?"
Jules laughed at that. Tasha was sharp all right. He winced as his laughter caused a cramp to radiate through his stomach.
He paused on the street and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Jesus. He'd hoped that the cramps would go away on his weekend off. But apparently the ulcer school was giving him didn't take weekends.
"You ok, cutie?"
Jules said tightly "Yeah. I'm fine."
"Yes, you certainly are." Tasha purred, “and lucky for you and your Manson-worshiping girlfriend, we're here. Corner of 6th and King. Home of Corinne ‘Tough Bitch’ Delaney. Watch your equipment cutie, she might cut it off. She's...I hate to use the term 'a scary cunt' but hey, if the stiletto fits..."
Jules chuckled at that. "She's scary in a sexy kind of way. But thank you so much for all your help. I've always heard New Yorkers were rude."
"They are, Hun. But by nature, many of us queers are very sweet and/or helpful when faced with a man as tall, dark, and handsome as you. Even if you are straight." Tasha shrugged her large shoulders. "But hey, nobody's perfect."
Jules laughed. "That's what I've been told."
"Enjoy the fireworks." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning and leaving him, startled on the street, to enter on his own.
Jules hoped briefly that his ulcer wouldn't make an appearance while he was with Corinne. It'd been too long since he'd seen her and he didn't want to focus on anything else. He'd just steal some Pepto-Bismol from her medicine cabinet and everything would be fine.
Cambridge, MA § late-December 1998
Julian froze in the hall, biting his lower lip as pain washed over him from his stomach upwards. He braced himself against the nearest brick wall and struggled to breathe through the agony that seized his abdomen.
Six months. Six fucking months this had been going on, the stomach pains and the nausea that seemed to steal his energy and his ability to function, sometimes for hours at a time. He'd thought it was just a stress reaction to the more intense college curriculum and new environment, considering they had begun right before the beginning of the summer semester. Then when the pain had intensified he'd thought it was from the pressure of the fall classes. But as excruciating pain wracked his body, he realized that it couldn't be just stress.
"Hey, are you all right?"
The girl who had her hand on his shoulder was sweet-faced and blonde; she reminded him of Chloe.
"Chloe?"
"No," the blonde said gently, pushing sweaty hair out of his face. "I'm Erica Wells. You're Julian Luthor right? You're in my human anatomy class."
"Oh." That one word took so much work.
"Are you ok?"
He licked his lips in order to speak and tasted copper. He'd drawn blood he'd bitten down so hard. That was...interesting.
"I don't think so,” he gasped as another spasm of pain shock his body.
"Damn." Erica looked around at the throng of coeds moving through the halls of Harvard on their way to classes. "What's wrong?"
He couldn't even see the girl anymore. He wanted to be home, in Metropolis. He wanted to be lying in bed with Corinne in her apartment in New York, listening to her ramble with her trash mouth about anything. He wanted to be fighting with Lex about his rapidly escalating alcoholism. He wanted to be doing anything besides slowly slipping down the wall and into a heap on the floor.
"Help...help me."
"I will. I promise." Erica told him, clearly panicked now. "Just hang on. I'll call an ambulance. Just...don't die."
He was able to manage one small nod before he passed out.
~*~*~
Julian's face was stinging, or at least it should be stinging. He was on the three most wonderful words in the English language; next to 'I love you.' Patient-controlled analgesia.
Because he was *sure* he'd just seen Corinne smack him across the face. He just couldn't feel it. God bless opiate painkillers, he thought with a sigh.
Except...she was crying. And that wasn't good. He didn't like to see his best girl in tears.
"Corinne?"
"Six months? You've been having these pains for six fucking MONTHS and you didn't tell anyone? Why? God knows what the fuck the lab results are going to come back with. What if you've got something? God damn it!"
"Cori...when did you get here?"
She was at NYU majoring in....he wasn't exactly sure what Corinne was majoring in. Neither was she apparently but she wasn't supposed to be back in Massachusetts.
"Last night. I drove. They put you under and did tests all day yesterday." Her voice was shaking.
"Any word?" He asked, his voice was more stable now as the haze started to burn away
He watched her swallow once before speaking. "Soon. They said soon. They wanted to be sure. They...they didn't want to come in with information that wasn’t absolute."
He held out a hand to her and she grabbed it tightly, desperately with both hers. She kissed it gently and he smiled at the touch of her lip ring against his skin.
"Not looking good?"
"You passed out from sheer fucking pain on your way to class, Brain. That in itself is not good!" She snapped.
Jules didn't answer though. He was trying to think of something comforting to say when a pair of doctors arrived.
"Hey." He was usually more articulate than that but he was using most of his lucidity on thinking and Corinne.
"Hello, Julian,” said the first doctor. He was an older black man, thin and wiry with close buzzed white hair and wire frame glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Beside him stood a younger white woman with curly auburn hair and a solemn expression.
He continued when Jules nodded at him. "I'm Dr. Caleb Morres and this young lady is Dr. Sarah Greenberg. She's your general physician."
"And what are you?" Corinne demanded.
"You first my dear." Dr. Morres prompted.
"I'm Corinne Delaney. I'm the fiancée."
Jules turned quickly to look at her. Fiancée? What the hell? Ah well, he thought with a smile, why fight the clandestine?
"Well, unfortunately I'm the oncologist. Mr. Luthor's oncologist." A sad look permeated his warm brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor, but there's no easy way to say this. I'm afraid you've been diagnosed with stage three pancreatic cancer."
Jules' grip tightened on Corinne's hands as the bottom dropped out of his world.
~*~*~
"God, only 6 to 10 months? Good thing we're not playing craps with those odds, huh?"
"They don't joke about shit like this, Jules! You know that! You were premed! You're almost done with your BA and all you take is fucking science classes. So you know they're not joking!" Corinne yelled. Her black eye makeup had smeared and run, leaving black streaks down her cheeks from crying.
"I'm sorry for being flippant. Just...coping. Come here, Cori." Jules beckoned holding out his arms to her. She nodded and climbed onto the bed with him, tucking her head against his bony shoulder. She noticed how much weight he'd lost since the last time she'd seen him now that she was in his arms.
"I don't want to loose you. I'll be so fucking pissed at you if you die on me, Brain."
"I love you."
"Yeah." Say it, she thought frantically. Just say it back. Come on Delaney, he's fucking dying. You know you love him. If ever you can say it...now is the time. "I love you too."
Jules tightened his grip on her. "I'm gonna try and fight, Cori. I will. But, there isn't much...."
Hope. There wasn't much hope. By stage three patients had 6-10 months with treatment if they were lucky. All that Dr. Morres could do was slow down the growth and metastasis of the cancer. Survival would take a sheer miracle.
"I called your brother on the drive down,” Corinne said, abruptly changing the subject
"What did Alex say?"
"He said he was coming. It's a long ass way from L.A. to Cambridge," she said gently. "But he is coming."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Jules, he's gonna be mad as fuck when he finds out you're sick."
Jules rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, wincing as it moved the IV beneath his skin. "Why do you think that, Cori?"
"Cause you're all he's got left, J."
"I am?"
Corinne kissed his collarbone through the fabric of his hospital gown; much like she had the first time they'd made love. "Yeah, Brain. You sure as shit are. And you're all I've got left too."
"Don't say that,” he whispered, tightening his grip on her. "Don't let me be that."
"It's your fucking fault. You did this to me, made me need you. Now you're going to pull a goddamn Nicholas Sparks ending on me. And I'm fucking ticked off at you." She finished in a whisper. It hurt too much to speak normally.
"Love you too, Corinne. Love you too."
~*~*~
"How dare you, you little shit?"
"Alex, calm down."
Lex looked like a wild animal with its foot caught in a trap. Ready to gnaw his own limb off to get out of the situation.
"Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down. I’ll calm down when I goddamn feel like it, you repulsive little freak."
Jules felt tears well in his eyes as Lex paced. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and most likely a hangover. Desperate and panicked and angry, those were words that would describe his older brother right now.
"Look, Alex, its all right."
"No its not! You're fucking dying, Jules! You're DYING!" The desperate look in his eyes seemed to grow even more intense.
"Yeah."
"How can you just take it?" Lex demanded, furious.
"It's not like I can do anything about it. I'm starting chemo in right away, but that's not a sure thing. You know that."
Of course Lex knew. Lex knew all about chemo. He knew all about the fire of chemicals shooting through veins, the nausea, and the grotesque experience of watching your hair fall out in clumps. Although Lex had been a kid when he'd gone through it. Always a small and fragile child, the treatments had left him so damn week he could barely walk around his hospital room on *good* days.
Julian was strong. He was a teenage athlete in peek physical condition. Surely it'd be easier on Jules' body than it had been on his own.
"You can never know." Lex muttered.
"I can feel my body attacking itself. I'm just trying to be up-beat."
"You're just being a pussy."
Julian stared at his brother and suddenly realized this was harder for Lex to accept than it was for him. Chloe had died less than a year ago and Lex still hadn't picked up the pieces of his life. Instead he'd run away to the other side of the country to get shitfaced and "study" at UC Berkley, until he'd gotten expelled and moved on to UCLA.
"Takes one to know one."
"That's so 4th grade."
Jules gave Lex a smug smirk. "I was what, three, in fourth grade? Cut me some slack, here. I'm sick."
For one brief second, Julian could see all of Lex's pain in his eyes.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone sooner. You have no idea how sorry, Alex."
The trapped look was back on Lex's face and Jules realized that for the time being, he had lost him again. "You die and I'll kick your ass, Wonder Boy." He growled, furious.
Julian winced as the door slammed shut with a bang. "I love you, too, Alex."
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 18:43:02 GMT -5
Chapter 31 - Living
Cambridge, Massachusetts § Christmas, 1998
"Corinne, chill out."
"He should fuckin' be here. It's fuckin' Christmas Eve. Goddamn prick."
"I told him he didn't have to be here, Cori. Just calm down. It'll just be you and me tonight." Jules smiled warmly at her. "There're worse things aren't there?"
"Motherfucker's probably out getting plastered."
"That's how Lex copes I guess."
"Don't be a fucking enabler, Jules."
Julian watched her fidget. She was so nervous, so agitated. He'd left the hospital the day before and had to go back tomorrow to start chemotherapy, a fact that was hanging over everyone like a dark cloud.
"Stop pacing and come sit with me,” Jules beckoned, holding a hand out to her. Corinne sighed heavily and sat down on Jules's futon couch with a thud. Julian shook his head and pulled her forcibly into his arms. She tensed for a moment and then relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder.
"It's been a year, Cori. You and me. We've been together a year."
"No shit." Her voice was hoarse.
"No shit,” he said warmly. "You gave me my present early last year, so you get yours."
"No fucking presents,” Corinne mumbled rubbing her face against the soft cotton of his pale blue button-down shirt. The long sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, leaving his forearms bare for her to trail her jet-black nails over.
Julian ran the fingers of his left hand through her bright pink shoulder-length hair and dug in the pocket of his pants with the other. He smiled a small satisfied smile when his hand wrapped around the small box.
"Just the one."
"Jules."
"Just the one." He coaxed her. "For me."
She cursed a little more fluently than usual and he smiled. He loved the way her voice sounded when she dropped an F bomb. It was a major turn on for him for some reason. And this particular stream of cuss words meant he had won.
He dropped the small package into her hand and waited.
He waited as she tore through the wrapping paper. He waited as she ran her fingers over the black velvet that covered the outside of the jewelry box. He waited as she opened the lid. He waited as she stared down at the two identical platinum bands resting in the lining.
"What the bloody blistering fuck is this, Jules?"
Her voice didn't just tremble. It cracked.
"They, uh, they're wedding bands,” Julian said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Corinne was looking at him like he'd sprouted a second, demonic head. So he continued in a rush.
"I know that I can't marry you. I'm too young and even if I could go to...Kentucky or Alabama or wherever it is that a 15 year old can get married. My dad would never sign the releases to make it legal. But I love you." He chuckled. "You know I love you. I've loved you since I met you, walking down the hallway looking like something out of fantasies I didn't even know I had."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He enjoyed the feeling of the longish strands sliding through his fingers, well aware that soon all of it would be gone and he would be as bald as Lex. The movement allowed him time to collect his thoughts.
"I don't know how long I have, Cor. And for everything my family has the only thing worth while I can think to give you is well-"
He took a deep breath, lifted the smaller of the rings out of the case, and slid it on her shaking left ring finger. He slid the other one on his own finger and looked down at the matching silver-hued rings that had a Celtic infinity etched in the metal.
"Me."
"You shit,” Corinne mumbled, brokenly. "You horrible, cruel, amazing little shit."
And then she was inhaling him. She had to be close to him. Now.
Her soul was screaming for Jules. No, her soul was burning for him.
And all of a sudden time was moving too fast. It was rushing by like that scene in 2001:A Space Odyssey a rush of color and light. And she was desperate to get as much of it as possible before it passed. But it was just slipping away too quickly.
She didn't break contact with his mouth as she crawled into Jules' lap. Her hands tore frantically at the long line of buttons on his shirt as best she could with her lips still melded to his.
Corinne added a groan of frustration to their kisses as the buttons refused to cooperate. And then there was a harsh tearing sound and she ripped the shirt open, sending button's flying. She fumbled blindly to pull his shirt off but it stuck at his elbows, hanging around his back. But it was mostly out of her way and her hands began to roam, dragging across his chest, leaving flecks of nail polish in little crescents where she dug in too hard. She had to hold onto him; she had to or she'd go insane. She had to or he'd slip away from her.
Jules broke away from her mouth and began desperately kissing and sucking his way down her jaw to her neck. He needed to see her and be close to her. She was so damn beautiful it broke his heart into a thousand pieces every time he saw her. But now he wanted to crawl inside her and never leave.
He tore the ratty old Slayer shirt she was wearing up and over her head. Or rather he tried. In his haste it caught on her eyebrow piercing. He laughed and slowed down enough to gently detach the fabric from the silver bolt. Then he tugged it off her head and threw it across the room.
He followed the lines on her smooth, tattooed skin with wide eyes and reverent, needy fingers. "God, you are so amazingly beautiful."
She was kissing him again then, desperately trying to get the zipper on Jules's slacks down while at the same time trying to stay as close to him as possible. It wasn't working.
"Fuck,” Corinne muttered, sliding off him, and quickly shedding the sweatpants she was wearing. Then she yanked down the zipper on his pants.
"Cori, I need you." Jules breathed, pulling her back to him.
Corinne straddled his legs and pushed his boxers down enough to free him. There was no foreplay, no hesitating. There was just a rush of heat as she lowered herself onto him.
And then oh, God, he was inside of her. He was hot and alive and so fucking strong for someone who was dying minute by minute. She could feel his strength all the way to her young, callused soul. She shivered and let out a long slow breath, slidding her hands up his chest, his neck, to cup his face in her hands.
"Love you, Brain."
She set him on fire with her words. She loved him. Corinne Delaney "fuckin'" loved him. She'd told him before but never when they were together like this. He groaned as all the control he had slipped through his grasp and he thrust into her, hard and unrestrained.
There was no real rhythm between them. There was just a desperate rocking as they tried to burrow inside each other. Hands flew along skin, stopping to stroke and massage. Jules had always had a fascination with the swirl of tattoos that covered most of Corinne's strong upper body. His hands tried to trace them as he bucked hard into her heat.
"Julesssssssssss." His name slid from her lips in a hiss.
The tenuous grasp he had on his sanity was slowly sliding loose even as his hands tangled in her hair. She tightened around him and he let out a strangled cry.
"Oh God!" Jules gasped tightening his hands in her pink strands and yanking her head back, a little harder than he meant to.
She winced then smiled as he kissed his way around her neck while attempting to keep a steady motion. She wrapped her arms around his back, to steady herself because he was failing to do so. And she loved it. She loved that she drove him so fucking wild just by being herself. He sucked furiously on the side of her throat, enough to leave a serious mark as he grabbed her hips and slammed into her, hard.
"Holy fucking Christ!" Corinne bucked and dug her nails into the skin of his back and dragged upward, leaving trails that nearly drew blood. Marking him as hers as much as the silver band he'd slid on her hand marked her as his.
He lifted his mouth from the soft skin of her neck and caught her lips. His tongue explored every soft crevice, trying to taste her soul through her mouth. And god, he was so close. So fucking close that he wasn't even grounded anymore. He was just sensation. He could just feel her warm and wet around him, soft against him, painful on his back, loving in every way that went far beyond the physical.
"Mine. Always, always mine,” he mumbled against her mouth, playing with the silver in her bottom lip as they rocked together.
She looked down at his words, at their chauvinistic and possessive nature. Shocked, she met his wide honest eyes and just shattered.
He loved her. He was the first and only person to ever really love her and he was going to die and leave her. She sobbed as her orgasm smashed into her like a tsunami wave. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried as her body shook with pleasure.
How on earth was she going to live without him?
"God, J." Corinne murmured, almost brokenly in soul-deep pain and pleasure.
And then, oh God, his whole mind was whiting out as he came inside her. This was what he was fighting for: the feel of shattering in her arms, the smell of her shampoo, the joy of loving her completely.
And then there was nothing but stillness and the soft sound of ragged breathing. Wrapped tightly around each other, they could feel one another's hearts beating.
Gently, Jules moved them so they were laying on his couch. Corinne lay half on top of him, unwilling to let him go, not even for a moment. Jules sighed contentedly at her solid and reassuring weight.
"Corinne?"
"Yeah." Her voice was still shaky.
"I love you."
"Yeah, I get the fuckin' picture."
"So that's a yes then?"
Corinne laughed, and cried a little too. "Yeah. That's a fuckin' yes." She kissed him again, softly this time, little more than a whisper across his lips.
~*~*~
New York City, New York § January 1999
"Motherfucker!"
What the hell was she supposed to do now, Corinne wondered, sitting on the closed toilet seat in her apartment's tiny bathroom. Two pink lines. Positive results. A blessed event.
She shook her head. "Motherfucker."
A baby. What the hell was she going to do with a baby, even Jules' baby?
Corinne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She missed Jules. She would only be in New York a week, to sublet her apartment and communicate the situation with Jules to the dean of admissions at NYU about taking a couple semesters off. But she wanted to be with him right now. He was weak and tired and throwing up nonstop. Well, it looked like she'd be taking a lot of semesters off now.
She needed some air. Corinne dropped the pregnancy test in the trashcan and took off.
She loved living in the village. The place was always alive and the white noise of the streets allowed her to clear her head.
But tonight the sound of people living their lives made her want to cry. Corinne mentally kicked her self. She'd been crying a lot lately. More than she thought was acceptable. But she'd been watching chemo rip Jules to pieces for the past couple weeks and it was eating at her.
And now there was another reason for her uncharacteristic tears. Her hormones had gone ape-shit. Fucking Jules had gotten her fucking pregnant.
He would be so goddamn happy.
She imagined the wide smile that would cross his now gaunt face when she told him. And to her horror, she started to cry, right there in the middle of 6th Avenue. She fumbled back a few steps and leaned against the stone wall of the buildings. No one noticed her, which was fine. She had no desire to publicly humiliate herself.
She just wanted to go home. Not that home was any specific place. It was just where Jules was.
She wondered vaguely, as she pulled herself together, if that drag queen, the one Jules had told her about, would like to rent out the apartment while she was gone.
~*~*~
Metropolis, Kansas § February 1999
"You got expelled again?" Lionel sighed. This was the second school in a year.
"The campus wasn't to my liking,” Lex muttered. He was now no longer a student at Berkeley, which didn't bother him in the least. He'd have free time to go check on Jules.
His red-rimmed eyes darted around the office in his father's house. He was far from sober and wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Lex, you're an embarrassment to our family."
"Hey, I'm not the only person whose ever thrown a rave before, or shown up to class stoned, or had sex with a faculty member, or sold drugs to other students." Lex replied in an icy tone, laughing inside. He may not have been the only one to do those things, but he was the one who seemed to get caught the most.
"You're brother would never pull a stunt like that." Lionel said.
"I'm not Julian. And I'm not the guy who got that nice girl pregnant, am I? Of course, the fact that he's dying of cancer gives him a lot leeway." Lex smirked even though his brother's illness was tearing him apart. It was like a vicarious flashback to his youth with extra emotional baggage.
"I thought it was bad when you were in high school. But ever since that little slut of yours died you've gone off the deep end,” Lionel said notably glazing over the comment on Julian's health and current relationship.
Lionel seemed to be completely ignoring the fact that Jules was dying, considering he had not visited him once since he started chemo two months ago. And while Lex personally was glad that the soul-sucking bastard was not around, Julian was feeling rejected and hurt on top of the effects of the cancer and the chemo. It was yet another thing Lex hated his father for.
Lex shot his father a lethal look. "What was that?" He asked in an equally lethal voice.
"You're behavior. It has something to do with that whore you were seeing at Hampton. You're attitude and behavior has gone down hill since she passed away. Personally I think that she got what she deserved."
Lex, who was a little high and more than a little drunk, slammed his fist into his father's face. He smiled at the thud Lionel made as he fell to the ground.
"Don't you ever, *ever* talk about Chloe like that again,” he said, looking down at Lionel. "Do you understand me?"
"You always were weak, Lex. She simply made you weaker." Lionel said, holding his face. Lex hoped it would bruise.
"She gave me strength, Dad. More than you'll ever know. Don't contact me again. If you have something to tell me, Julian can reach me,” Lex said as he stormed out.
"Lex."
"No." Lex didn't smile as the door slammed shut behind him. He simply felt dirty and in severe need of a shower.
~*~*~
Cambridge, Massachusetts § mid-March 1999
"I'm sorry." Dr. Morres looked sadly at the young man. He'd been so positive, so friendly. He'd wanted things to turn out well for the boy. ""But I believe it would be best discontinue the chemo and radiation therapy. You've reached a stage where pain-control should be our primary focus."
"Meaning I'm dying,” Jules said flatly. His girlfriend and brother weren't with him. For the final prognosis, the youngest member of the Luthor family had decided to go alone.
Dr. Morres met his eyes and nodded slowly.
"I turned sixteen today,” Jules said, his voice hollow as if he were already dead.
Dr. Morres waited for Julian Luthor to continue speaking. The realization of mortality hit different people different ways and years as an oncologist had taught him patience and understanding of people's reactions.
"This is the last birthday I'll ever have. I think..." He sighed and wiped his face with his hands then looked up at Dr. Morres and grinned. "I think that a final birthday deserves cake. What do you think?"
"Chocolate?" Dr. Morres asked gently.
Jules smiled sadly and nodded. "You busy?"
"I can take my lunch early today,” Dr. Morres said carefully.
"Then do want to have some cake with me?" Julian asked warmly.
Dr. Morres looked at the young man, bald and thin as a twig and just as frail, sitting before him in a chair that seemed to swallow him up. The world would be losing a lot with his passing. But for now, Julian Luthor was still breathing, his heart was still beating, his mind was still working. And Dr. Morres was going to share his birthday with him.
~*~*~
Julian sighed heavily as he burrowed himself into the soft fabric of his couch. He'd walked to his apartment, in the melting snow, from the small bakery where he and Dr. Morres had shared a few pieces of cakes, and the trip had sapped more energy from him than he had. It was all he could do to collapse on his sofa. But dear God almighty, it was so good to be home.
"How's this for a kick ass birthday present?" Corinne asked as she burst in the door, making a grand entrance as usual, jewelry shining in the poor lighting of the apartment, her hair a faded blue. She gestured to the small room and smiled at him.
"It’s good. Good to be home,” Jules said as turned his head and stared at Corinne. He smiled at her. He would never cease to be amazed at how absolutely beautiful pregnancy made her. Beneath the silver piercings and body art, her skin glowed.
Granted, she had been puking her guts up right along beside him for the past few months but Corinne was a tough old bird. She took it in stride, and was usually done before he was.
Jules chuckled to himself. That was true love- throwing up with the woman of your dreams.
"What's so goddamn funny?" Corinne demanded. "You better not be laughing at my fat ass, Luthor,” she teased.
"I would never make fun of your ass," Jules said warmly. "You have a great ass."
"Correct answer."
She smiled warmly at him and moved to sit on the couch beside him. She scooted closer, lifted his head, and gently set it in her lap. He sighed as she began to gently stroke his bare scalp with her fingertips. It was soothing.
He closed his eyes, his ear resting against her stomach. He imagined he could hear his baby's heartbeat if he listened hard enough. Few things had ever been as precious.
"I got a phone call yesterday."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It was the Make A Wish Foundation. They want to give me my wish. Interesting considering how much my family has at its disposal, I think. But they're equal opportunity with the dying."
Her hand stilled and Jules moved his head slightly, coaxing her back into movement.
"What shit'd you ask for?"
"I want us to be legally married. That's my wish. They said they could make it happen."
She bent over him. "You're shitting me."
"I shit you not."
"So, what, we're just....getting fucking married now?"
"That's the plan if you don't mind."
"Nah. I don't fuckin' mind. What about the magnificent bastard?"
"Lex or Dad?"
"Your dad."
"This is my wish. And hey, I'm sixteen now, right? There's got to be at least on place in the world we can make it happen."
"You are fuckin' nuts."
"Yeah well, there's a thin line between genius and insanity." He looked up at her with worried eyes. "You will though, wont you? Marry me."
"I already fucking said I would, didn't I?"
"Soon?" Jules asked. It had to be soon, while he could still stand on his own.
"Does next week work for you?"
"Yep."
"Jules?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't have to wear fuckin' white, do I?"
~*~*~
Lionel Luthor had agreed to give his consent for Julian to marry Corinne. Jules had thought Lex was going to faint when he found out. But when the shock wore of Lex made it clear that he was certain that Lionel’s acquiescence had more to do with the fact that he wanted his grandchild to be a Luthor than him wanting his youngest son to be happy in the few short months he had left to him. Jules had been too tired to argue with him.
Almost as if to prove Lex right, Lionel refused to come to the wedding. In fact, he'd refused to see Julian at all since he'd gotten sick in December, a fact that broke Julian's heart.
The wedding was small. It was held at night in Cambridge, on one of the flat grassy lawns near Julian's apartment at Harvard. Lex, and Julian's old roommate from high school, Malakai Johnson, were witnesses when the two of them were married by a justice of the peace. Wendy hadn't been able to make it, stuck in Washington D.C. with exams and deadlines. She'd sent her love and a thin gold chain for something borrowed.
Corinne had worn a long, red slip dress with hair to match and black leather jewelry that actually complimented the black suit Julian wore. She hadn't worn eyeliner or mascara so that when she’d cried, which she had known she would with hormones and emotions running high, she wouldn't look like a bipedal cheetah.
And later, after vows had been exchanged, and documents signed, Julian and Corinne were left alone, on that small stretch of green.
They sat together, in now grass-stained formal wear, and looked up, studying the night sky. It was probably the most beautiful night of Julian's life. He wondered how many more star-filled skies he'd get to see.
"I had one named,” Jules said suddenly.
"One what?" Corinne asked, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.
"A star."
"Which one?"
Jules pointed upward, and a few inches to the right of Polaris. "That one."
"That little faggoty-ass star?" Corinne asked, her gaze following his finger.
"It’s not a faggoty-ass star, Corinne. It's a spectroscopic binary pair. Two stars orbiting each other that shine as one. It's your wedding present."
Corinne pulled away from him sharply. "You bought me a fucking star?"
"Technically, I bought you two stars,” Jules said with a nervous chuckle.
"You are out-fuckin'-rageous. What dumbass name did you give it?" She asked. He could see suspicion in her eyes.
"I named them Corinne and Julian. I thought," he sighed heavily and shrugged. "The Greek gods put their loved ones in the skies as stars when they died, so that they'd always be with them. So..."
"So you thought you'd just go all fuckin' sad and poetic on my ass didn't you?"
He reached out and gently ran his frail hand across her full lower lip, stopping to caress her lip ring, which was gold tonight. "I was going for romantic. You know, with the two as one scenario."
"Jules-"
He moved his hand from her mouth to her chest, resting his hand above her heart. "I'll never leave you, Corinne. Know that, ok? I'll always be with you here," he promised, pressing his hand against the smooth silk of her dress. "And I'll be up there, on our star, watching over you, and waiting for you. And whenever you go out at night, you can look up and know that I'm watching over you, and loving you from wherever I am. And you can show our baby our star, and tell him how much I loved him."
"Don't you fucking do this to me, Luthor." Corinne hissed, her heart singing and bleeding at the same moment.
"And you'll never be alone. Because the stars are forever, so I'll always be there for you. Even when I'm gone."
She placed her hand over his and with her other hand pulled his dying body into her arms. "Then don't go."
"I have to. But I'll never leave you."
"You better fuckin' swear it, Luthor."
"I fucking swear." He swore dutifully before he kissed her gently. "Mrs. Luthor."
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 21:55:02 GMT -5
Chapter 32 - Dying
Julian and Corinne had two good months together before Julian’s condition hit a massive downward spiral.
Lex was at Met U, drunk as a skunk in some pretty brunette’s dorm room, when Corinne called his cell phone. He almost hadn’t answered.
Julian had collapsed in their home, stomach cramps twisting his insides as the cancer cells mutated and spread, destroying his organs. After the initial attack, Julian was completely bed ridden. The chances of him ever getting out of bed again and walking without help were nonexistent.
Lex had hopped on the next plane and been there less than six hours later, even with a layover. The sight that he was met with when he entered his brother’s bedroom broke his heart all over again.
His lower face was covered with an oxygen mask and there were tubes and needles, God, everywhere. His skin was off-color and sallow, and his veins were clearly visible beneath his skin.
As if sensing Lex’s presence, Jules opened his eyes. And beneath his oxygen mask, he smiled.
"You don’t have to come all the way here, Alex. I don’t want to burden you," Julian said quietly, lifting the mask with a frail hand to speak.
"Bullshit, Jules. Where the hell else would I go?" Lex asked looking into his brother’s tired eyes. The skin looked like it was stretched taught across the bones and his head was fuzzy with hair that was slowly returning from the effects of the chemotherapy.
"College maybe?" Julian shot back warmly. He was tired and aching but exceedingly glad to see his brother.
"It’s a lot easier than you think it is. I’ve gotten all the credits I’ve earned from all six universities and AP classes, transferred to UCLA and it turns out I’ve got enough of them to get my BA," Lex said with a sigh. He wondered how the sixteen years old could be so cheerful so close to death.
"I always looked forward to college. And when I got there, I was too sick and too young to enjoy any of the perks," Julian said sadly then he smiled. “Except for…” He stopped, thinking of the one benefit of adult life, aside from the intellectual, he’d been privy too. Yes, Corinne and her love was one of the best things that ever happened to Jules Luthor.
"You won't get better if you think like that," Lex said in a mock cheerful voice. But the tension was clear in his eyes.
"I’m going to die, Alex. The doctors know it. Dad knows it, that’s why he’s not here. I know it, it’s why I love every single thing I see or hear even if it’s just the ceiling or a car backfire. Corinne knows it. Because of that, every time I kiss her, it’s more special than anything else on Earth. The only one who doesn’t want to admit it is you. Why can‘t you just admit that the cancer will win so you can get past it and use what time I have well?" Julian demanded.
"Because I don’t want the only person left in my life that I care about to die. When you‘re gone Jules, I‘ll be alone again. I don’t think I can go back."
"So don’t go back. Go forward. It's what Chloe would have wanted and it's what I want."
There was a pause before Julian started talking again. "You remember when they started me on chemo and all my hair fell out? Everyone said we looked exactly alike. But you know that I’m still better looking."
Lex smiled tightly at him. "No you’re not. You never were; you never will be." There was another long silence. "Are you in pain?"
“I’m on a morphine drip. It’s a wonderful thing," Julian said with a forced grin.
“Opiates definitely have their upsides.”
Jules sighed heavily, placing the mask back on for a few moments before removing it to speak. "I wish you would stop doing drugs, Alex. They’re going to fry your brain. My death bed wish is that you stop hurting your self with substances," Julian declared.
"You’re not dead yet."
"I know that. But I’m going to die on this bed, thus making it a death bed."
"Don’t get morbid like that on me like that, Julian," Lex said sharply.
"Why not, Alex? I will die. Everybody dies. I just need come to terms with it and deal with it sooner than most. Sometimes in life you can either laugh or cry. I have a choice and I’d rather laugh," Julian said quietly.
They sat for a long time, quiet stretching long and oppressive between them. And when Lex broke the silence it was suddenly and softly. "I love you, Julian."
"What was that?" Julian asked sharply. His brother wasn’t one for soft words or mush, at least not with him and not at all since Chloe‘s death. In fact he’d never heard him say that to him before, ever, and now here it was out of the blue.
"You’re my baby brother and I love you. I know it's too late to make a difference but-"
"No, it's not too late. Not yet it's not, I promise. I love you, too. And I’m sorry to be putting you through this, Alex. I know it is hard on you."
"I doubt it, but I know it's not as hard for me as it is for you."
Julian grinned. "Probably not."
~*~*~
Cambridge, Massachusetts § May, 1999
“Get your smelly, drunk ass out of my fuckin’ apartment Luthor. You’re not staying here like that.” She couldn’t drink anymore, what with the baby. But watching Lex loll around the apartment hammered and moping was doing nothing to boost morale.
Lex looked up at Corrine with bleary, red rimmed eyes. “You want me to go out like this?” He slurred.
“Yeah. Go drive a car. Play in traffic. Pick up a hooker. Do whatever the fuck you want just get your shitfaced self the fuck out of my house.”
“I live here too.”
“You stay here as my motherfucking guest because Jules pulled out the goddamn puppy dog eyes and did that thing with his tongue to the roof of my mouth.”
He groaned covering his eyes with the palms of his hand. “No descriptions of my brother’s tongue. Please. I’m not drunk enough yet.”
Corinne gave him a swift kick in the leg. “Get up. I’m too fucking pregnant to waste all my fuckin energy on you. Now get up.”
She watched him pull himself to his feet with difficulty. Once he was standing, swaying ever so slightly, Corinne ushered him towards the door. She snatched the keys to his car out of his reach as he went for them.
“I was kidding about the driving thing, Luthor. Go down stairs, hail a cab, sober the fuck up. It’s not even five o’clock for Christ’s sake.”
Lex straightened his clothes, flipped Corinne the one finger salute, and walked out of the apartment with far more baring than a man as drunk has he was should have been able to.
Corinne shook her head and locked the door behind him. He made her so fuckin’ tired. In any other situation, she’d have had him staying at a hotel instead of sleeping on their couch. Corinne smirked, as she usually did, at the thought of how her brother-in-law unknowingly slept where her baby had been conceived. She was saving that little bomb for a day when she was really stressed and in need of a good laugh.
Corinne wandered towards the small kitchen to find something to eat. A pint Ben&Jerry’s and a pickle sounded good and she could bring it into the bedroom and watch Jules sleep. The pain had been bad today and he’d medicated and crashed out. Watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he slept would make her feel better than all the ice cream in Massachusetts ever could.
She was fighting valiantly with the lid of the jar of pickles, and cursing colorfully at its lack of cooperation, when the doorbell rang.
Pickle jar still in hand, Corinne walked to the door. When she turned the lock and undid the chain, she was faced with a nasty surprise.
Lionel Luthor, in all his Versace perfection, was standing on the threshold of her apartment. She’d never met the man in person before but she knew enough about him to know that she did not like this cocksucker.
“Ms.-”
Corinne thrust out the pickle jar. Startled, he blinked at it. She shook it at him again. “Make yourself useful and open the fucking thing.”
Lionel took the heavy glass jar from her hand and easily popped the seal. He handed it back to her, and Corinne moved aside to let him in as she dug out a pickle.
Ignoring her guest completely, she returned to the kitchen and the now slightly melted Chunky Monkey ice cream. She placed the jar on the counter, dipped the pickle directly into the ice cream, and took a bite. She was sure her expression must have been similar to Julian what liked to call her “orgasm face” but she really didn’t care. It tasted so good and it eased the craving.
She finished off the first one and reached for a second when Lionel reminded her of his presence.
“Miss, I’m looking for my son.” He said, suddenly no more than two feet away from her.
Corinne pulled her empty hand out of the jar and glared at him. She flicked the juice from her hand onto the flawless fabric of his suit. “You’re in my personal fucking space bubble.”
Lionel didn’t move. He seemed shocked both by her crude language and the presence of pickle juice on his suit.
Corinne noticed and smiled. She took a step towards him. "Oh, did I get it on you?" She patted her still wet hand on his chest and then wiped the remainder of it off on his lapel. "My bad, Lionel."
"And you would be?"
"I'm the daughter you never had and never wanted." She held out her left hand, not to shake his but show him her wedding ring. “Corinne Delaney Luthor. But then, how could you have fucking known, its not like you were at the goddamn wedding, were you?”
"Where's my son?"
"Who the fuck are you to ask? Where the fuck have you been when he needed you, hm? Give me one, ONE good goddamn reason why I should let you near him.”
"I'm his father."
"Beeeeeeep. Wrong fuckin' answer."
The comment rolled off Lionel like water of a duck's back. He was now giving her a cursory glance, his gaze setting on her stomach, which had started to show. "You are not what I expected. I never would have thought Jules would settle for a woman with your...considerable girth."
"I'm pregnant you stupid motherfucker. And don’t change the fucking subject.”
Lionel sighed. “I apologize. Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be a…” Corinne watched him struggle for an adjective. “Wonderful mother.”
She gave him a silver glinted smile as her peircings shined in the yellow light of the apartment’s light bulbs. She chuckled a little and shook her head. “You are so full of shit your eyes are turning brown. I know what I look like and I know what you’re thinking. Horrible bitch freak girl who snared your poor dying son by getting herself knocked up.
“Now here’s what you don’t know. My maiden name is Delaney, Lionel. As in Delaney Incorporated, also of Delaney-Tokagowa Electronics and Delaney Manufacturing. Which means my family can buy and sell your smarmy ass. That’s number one.
“Number two, I love your son, I’m going to have his baby, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do to stop it. I also know that you’ve been missing the whole time *my* husband has been dying. So there is *no* reason to let you near him.” Her voice had gone from sarcastic and biting to low and harsh.
She hadn’t been this angry in quite a while and had forgotten how wild and out of control it felt. She had no patience for this shmuck, none.
Still, Corinne had to give him credit, one asshole to another, for managing to continue looking composed despite the pickle juice on his suit, and the tongue lashing she’d just given him. And a part her, the part that was deeply connected to the child growing and moving inside her found pity for him as a parent.
She sighed heavily. “He’s sleeping. He was really fucking hurting today. If you wake him up, I’ll kill you with a goddamn kitchen knife. If he is awake, and you hurt him emotionally, I’ll kill you with a goddamn kitchen knife. If you piss me off in any way shape or form, I’ll kill you with a goddamn kitchen knife.” She gave him a wide, fake smile. “Are we clear?”
She caught a hint of a smile on his lips. “Crystal, Mrs. Luthor. Where is he?”
She pointed towards the back of the apartment. He nodded once and headed toward the bedroom.
She followed him. What? There was a strange man in her house, with her sick spouse. She wasn’t stupid.
Corinne settled herself leaning against the door and waited. She would sit down but her center of gravity had been shifted and she didn’t want to have to ask Lionel to help her up later.
She could hear him moving through the door. She heard the bedsprings creak as he sat down on the mattress. She heard him breathe a heavy sigh. She heard him when he softly spoke.
“I’m sorry, son. You don’t know how much.”
Fucker, Corinne thought angrily, tears welling in her eyes in cahoots with her raging hormones. Tell him you love him. Tell him you’re glad he’s your son. Tell him you’ll miss him. Tell him he made you proud. Tell him something.
But the silence just stretched out. Corinne’s heart broke for her love.
Moments or hours later, Lionel emerged just as composed as he had been throughout the entire time he’d been in the apartment. He seemed a little started by Corinne’s hovering presence.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Luthor.”
“Get the fuck out of my house. You’re not welcome here so don’t get any fucking ideas that you are. Show yourself the hell out. Now.”
Lionel smiled. It was a shark’s smile but it was a smile. “You are a difficult woman, Mrs. Luthor. A force, I must say. Julian could have done worse.”
“Thanks for the backhanded compliment, Lionel. But I still want you the hell out of my house.”
He smiled that malicious smile again. “Congratulations again. On the baby.”
Corinne wanted to throw something at his head, preferably something large and deadly, as he walked away. But instead, she settled herself with kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with Jules. His breathing calmed her and eased her slowly into sleep.
~*~*~
Cambridge, Massachusetts § July 4, 1999
“J.?”
He’d been sleeping for the past few days, but he’d told her, repeatedly, that he wanted to be up for the Fourth of July fireworks. She’d gotten a wheelchair and Lex would help her get Julian out to watch the fireworks.
“Hey baby.” She whispered hoarsely, fighting back tears.
Julian pulled his hand out of her hand and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. “Cori….”
“Happy Fourth of July, Brain. You made it here.”
“You got me here. Wouldn’t without you.”
Corinne shook her head and tried to hold back tears. She failed and crystalline drops fell from her eyes like rain. She wiped them away viciously. “Fucking hormones.”
Julian grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around his wife. She was his wife, he thought still amazed that it was reality, as he ran a hand soothingly through her stop sign red hair.
“Shh. Corinne, it’ll be ok. I promise you. I love you so much Cori. Please don’t cry baby,” he murmured, trying to comfort her, when he could barely comfort himself. “We’re going to have a good day today, right?”
“Yeah.” She said hoarsely, battling her tears like a soldier fights the enemy. “A really fucking super day. But we gotta get your ass outta bed first. Let me go get your brother.”
Julian watched her scoot carefully off the bed and waddle out of the room. Pregnancy agreed with her. God, she was so fucking beautiful it made him hurt sometimes.
Julian stared up at the ceiling for a moment, enjoying the quiet, waiting. That was what he did now- wait. He didn’t mind. He loved everything around him now, grabbing every sight that touched his eyes, sound that met his ears, as the precious snippets of life they were.
Alex looked like hell. Bags beneath his eyes and rumpled clothes, Jules hadn’t seen him look like this since after Chloe died. Although, this was a similar situation, wasn’t it?
He held out his arms to Lex. He was weak and he knew it. But he didn’t mind. Being carried by Lex now that he was fading was the only time in his life that he could ever remember being held by his brother.
“You coming with us, Alex?”
“Yeah. Sure, if you want.”
He looked up into his brother’s thin face. Alex was so lost, so much more lost than he let on. “Of course I want you to. I love you, Alex. I want you to be with us.”
Julian felt Alex’s arms stiffen around him at that but was soon placed in the wheelchair. After a loud, fluent but short argument between Corinne and Alex over who would push the chair (Lex won pulling out the ‘overexertion while pregnant’ card), the small vestiges of family headed out the door.
They settled on a spot in a park with a few other groups of celebrators but not overly crowded. Carefully, Jules slid out of his chair and down onto the grass.
He ran his hands over the blades of grass, feeling teach individual leaf against his palm and between his fingers. He’d miss this.
Jules felt more than saw Corinne and Lex ease down beside him. He reached out and wrapped his frail arm around his wife, letting his hand rest on the side of her stomach. When he felt movement under her skin from his baby kicking, he wanted to cry.
But he didn’t. Instead he settled himself with holding her close and listening to her talk and argue with Alex, who was using the holiday as an excuse to get drunk.
“Don’t want you to ever stop fucking holding me. Don’t ever want you to fucking leave me.” Corinne whispered sounding nothing at all like her usual cocky self a few hours later as fireworks painted the sky with color.
“I won’t. I couldn’t leave you. Never, Cori. Never.” He promised, turning to look at her face which was lit but the light from the fireworks.
She kissed his neck gently as her tears slowed and whispered trying not to draw Lex’s attention, “What do you think of the name Winston, you know like the guy from 1984?”
“I think that with my DNA, he’s already got too high a risk of being a nerd. Don’t make it worse. Let’s just hope he’s as beautiful as you are right now.”
She smiled against his skin and held him tight, wishing that she could stop time. Wishing desperately that she could freeze this moment and never let him or it go. And a part of her soul would always be out on that lawn watching the fireworks with him, even when she was old and gray.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 21:56:11 GMT -5
~*~*~ Cambridge, Massachusetts § August 1999
“Jules?”
Julian looked up at his brother. He shot Lex a trembling smile. His patient controlled morphine was a higher concentration than it used to be and he was a little out of it. He’d called for his brother for something. It took a little bit of focusing for him to remember exactly what it had been.
“It hurts, Lex.” Julian whispered hoarsely, his eyes drooping and his lip trembled as he spoke. Gone was the cheerful, optimistic teenager who took it all with a smile. He knew that the real Julian was still somewhere underneath this quivering patient and he knew that this new Jules came more from the pain than anything else.
And Lex knew how he felt, at least up to a point. He’d never been as far gone as Julian was: his doctors had never completely lost hope for his recovery. But at least he was home, not wasting away in a cold hospital.
But there was no hope for Jules. None. He was going to have to watch his brother die, the same way he’d watched his mother die, seen his sister’s body, and had Chloe fall to her death, unable to stop any of it.
“I don’t know what to do, Jules. Tell me what to do.”
Julian nodded, biting his lip and whimpering just a little. “Cori.” A tear rolled down his face and into the white cotton sheets. “Where is Cori?”
“Jules, she went out to get groceries. She’ll be back soon.” Lex promised as he leaned over the side of the bed and rested his forehead against his brothers. “It’s going to be ok. I promise Julian.”
“It hurts. G-G-God Alex, it hurts so bad.” Julian whispered, his whole body shaking slightly.
Lex fought back tears. The last time he’d cried was when Chloe had died. And he couldn’t be weak now. Not when his little brother, the only person left that he loved, was dying a death that he himself had only nearly evaded.
“I know it hurts.” Lex murmured gently, wiping away the tears that ran down Julian’s pale emaciated face. “I know, but it’ll be alright. I’m not going to leave you Julian. I’ll stay right here and I’ll help you.”
Julian whimpered again, a sound even more broken than the last and Lex just snapped.
Screw the controlled bullshit, Lex thought. He wouldn’t do it, and he *couldn’t* do it.
Lex slipped of his designer shoes and slid onto the bed next to his brother. Gently, he pulled the teen into his arms. It had been over a nearly a decade since he’d *really* held his brother.
“I’m here Jules. You’ve got me. I’m not great Jules but I’m here. And I….I do love you Jules. And Corinne, she‘s on her way home as we speak.”
He looked up into his brother’s eyes. “Alex, I’m tired of hurting, I just want to rest.” Julian whispered hopelessly into Lex’s shirt, which was quickly growing damp with tears.
Lex didn’t know what to say to that. So he touched his lips gently to the top of his brother’s downy head.
Julian nodded against his chest. A frail hand reached out and clicked the button that released the morphine into his system.
“Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to be there for my son. When he needs you.”
Damn him, Lex thought bitterly. Damn Julian for asking that of him. Damn himself for being so jealous of the child his dying brother had created. He damned himself for wishing Chloe had left him a child to love in her absence the way Corinne would love her baby after Jules‘s death, for coveting what his brother had even as he lay dying. But even with all that, he couldn’t say no to Julian.
“I will.”
Julian opened his mouth and yawned quietly. “’m sleepy.”
“Then sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. Corinne will be here too.”
“She’s so pretty. Love her. Love you too, Alex.” Julian whispered as he drifted off.
“Night Julian.” Lex hissed through clenched teeth.
He lay on that bed, his arms wrapped round his brother, for only a few minutes before the monitor beside the bed ceased its rhythmic beeping and let loose one long loud note, almost like a scream.
~*~*~
Corinne found Lex when she waddled awkwardly in the door two bags of groceries in her arms. He was sitting on the ground in front her couch, with a bottle of Jack Daniels. His tie was loose and hanging around his neck, his collar was unbuttoned. His eyes were red rimmed and he looked utterly exhausted.
“Luthor?”
“I haven’t called Dad yet. I’m thinking I should put it off till he’s buried.”
Fear slammed through her body, making her whole body shake and the bags fell to the ground with a thud. Produce spilled out and rolled across the floor. “Luthor, talk to me, goddamn it.”
“He’s gone, Corinne. So fucking quiet, like everything else he did. Had to do it better than anyone else.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank. Corinne watched his Adam’s apple bob for a few very long moments.
“Where is he?” She asked, her voice trembling. She was trying desperately to hold herself together. “H-how long?”
“In your room. Only about fifteen minutes or so.”
“Did you at least have the fucking decency to cover him?”
Lex lifted his eyes to her face and glared at her. “I left him. I foolishly thought you might want to go tell your spouse goodbye. Forgive me for taking on airs.” He took another drink of whisky. “Bitch.”
“Like hell I need this shit from you Luthor.” Corinne snapped, trying desperately not to cry. She might have been nearly eight months pregnant but damn if she was going to let Lex Luthor see her cry now
She took a deep, calming breath, and moved towards the back of the apartment. She moved slowly to Jules and her bedroom and managed not to cry until she entered the room and shut the door.
He was so small, his skin had taken on a yellow color but oh god, he looked…serene. There was a small smile on his lips and she decided, as she scrubbed at her tears with the palms of her hands that rest in peace definitely applied to her Brain.
She stood beside him and simply ached for an uncountable length of time. She would miss him for the rest of her life. And she would love him just as long.
"Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Corinne fought back a sob and continued. "See? I can be poetic, too J." She murmured and placed a soft kiss on his cool lips. "I love you, Jules. I'll see you later, I fucking promise you that." Corinne wiped her face again and gently pulled the sheet up to cover his face.
A sob burst past her defenses and she hurried out of the room they had shared for the last painful months of her husband’s life. She would leave it to Lex call the necessary people.
Corinne made it to the bathroom, and the toilet before throwing up. This wave of nausea had nothing to do with morning sickness and everything to do with the waves of grief that shuddered through her body.
Her hair fell in her face as she made her offering to the porcelain gods.
When her stomach was finally settled her fire-engine red hair was filthy. She’d been too sick, too tired, to everything to hold it back and now it was a disgusting mess.
Corinne blindly reached over to the bathtub, which was directly next to the toilet and turned the water on. She then, carefully, moved herself to place here head under the stream.
When her hair was somewhat clean, she struggled to her feet. It was incredibly difficult and she had to brace herself on the side of the tub to stand.
Her lower back throbbed in pain as she moved slowly to the outer section of the bathroom. Aching and tired, she open the door and stuck her head out.
“Luthor!”
A grunt met her call.
“Call someone, Luthor. Don’t-” Her voice started to break so she started again. “Don’t let him stay like that.” At his grunt in the affirmative, she closed the door.
Corinne turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. It felt good but she still hurt, inside and out. As water dripped down her face, she studied herself in the mirror. Despite her pregnancy, she looked gaunt and thin. Shadows hung under her eyes and damp grimy hair hung around her face. It was still the bright red shade from her wedding. She hadn’t had the heart to change it. Jules had loved it.
He’d always loved her hair. The ever-changing colors fascinated him and as it got longer as her pregnancy progressed, brushing through it had seemed to give him comfort. He’d judged her attitude by the color of her hair, rightly, on more than one occasion.
She was startled out of memories by the sound of a glass shattering. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to block out the sound of Lex’s outburst. The sound of more broken glass followed. “Fucking idiot.” She muttered, shaking her head as she simply tuned it.
As she returned to her train of thought, she was struck again by the reality that Jules was gone now. He’d never touch her hair again. He’d never quietly notice the difference in color, never comb his long fingers through Technicolor strands, and he’d never hold her head in his hands and tell her she was beautiful again.
Why bother, she thought grimly, as tears rolled down her face to mix with the water from the sink. She’d have a baby soon. Someone who would need her 24/7. Not to mention the labor of bringing that little person into the world.
Her baby wouldn’t care what color her hair was. In fact, he probably wouldn’t care or know if she had any hair at all. And if Julian wasn’t there to appreciate it anymore, why the fuck should she bother anymore?
Her eyes still locked on the mirror Corinne Delaney Luthor made a decision. Her hand fumbled in a drawer and she pulled out an electric shaving razor. Jules’ shaving razor. He’d stopped using it after the chemo had started work but it was still in the bathroom in pristine condition.
She clicked it on and smiled at the high buzzing sound it made. It was a calming sound.
Twenty minutes later, Corinne emerged from the bathroom to find Lex in much the same place she’d left him. Only now he was sitting in a little patch of clean in the kitchen among a mass of broken glass and puddles of amber liquid. She wondered, in the back of her mind where shock and pain was still keeping her in an iced over state, if she had any glasses left. Or for that matter, any booze.
“Did you make fucking the call?” She asked levelly.
“Yeah, they’ll be here in a few minutes.” Lex slurred, slowly rolling his eyes up to her face. “Nice do.” Lex deadpanned smoothing a hand over his scalp. “Very original. Think of that all by yourself?”
“Fuck you, Luthor.” Corinne snapped, running a ringed hand over her now bald head. “Get your drunk ass off my floor and clean this shit up. I’m not going to bend over right now.” The pain in her back was getting distracting.
As Lex rose, shakily on liquor-weakened legs, Corinne moved to sit on the couch. The pain in her back was killing, rolling through her in waves. And she didn't think she'd ever been so tired. Or so very, very lonely.
She sat there, with her eyes shut until she felt something wet in her lap. She cracked open one eye and heaved a long heavy sigh.
“Luthor! You’ve got another fucking call to make.”
Great. Going into labor was ex-fucking-actly what she needed. A cramp, long and intense rippled through her. “LUTHOR! NOW GODDAMN IT!”
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 21:58:27 GMT -5
Chapter 33
“Goddamn motherfucking cocksuckers!”
“Mrs. Luthor, I need you to breathe. You’re only two centimeters dilated,” Dr. Kostic said warmly yet cautiously. He was a young doctor, baby faced and blond, and a little bit afraid of the bald headed expectant mother laying in his maternity ward.
She grabbed the front of her OBGYN’s coat and pulled him to her. “Give me a fucking epidural you cuntlicker or I will cut your fucking dick off with a rusty scalpel!” Corinne screamed.
She released him and fell back onto the bed. Christ, she was so tired. She’d been in labor for eight hours already. It was time for a painkiller, damn it.
Corinne intensely wished the whole thing would go faster. Eight hours of labor so far. And for nine hours Julian had been dead.
Corinne needed to hold her baby. She needed to look at her child and see her husband in her child’s tiny features. She needed to have somewhere to direct the love she couldn’t give Jules anymore.
And she needed Lex to sober his drunk ass up. He’d broken down completely after getting her safely to the hospital. He’d slid out of her room and out to the nearest liquor store. The RN had kicked him out a few hours ago.
She cried when the doctors and nurses left her alone. Soft, harsh sobbing jags that came in fits and bursts in between and sometimes during her contractions.
Wiping sweat and tears off her face, Corinne hit the call button. She almost laughed when a timid nurse no more than two years older than her entered the room.
"What can I do for you Mrs. Luthor?"
Corinne flashed a wide, fake smile. "Could you please send Dr. Kostic back in here as soon as fucking possible? I need a fucking epidural or I'll be forced to start slitting some goddamn throats. Thanks. "
Lex came back before Dr. Kostic did. He looked like shit: tired and grimly sober.
"Corinne?"
"Yeah?"
"I just got off the phone with your dad. He’s leaving Tokyo as soon as the jet is fuelled. He said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”
Her dad. When was the last time she’d spoken to him? She couldn’t remember, she’d been busy over the past few months. Getting married, being pregnant, watching the love of her life wither and die before her eyes. Yes, she definitely had been pre-fucking-occupied.
Her parents had divorced when she was seven, leaving her alone with a gin-soaked mother who got 1.5 mil a month in alimony and did not spend it conscientiously. Her father owned not one, but a handful of some of the most powerful companies on the planet. He meant well but before she’d graduated high school she’d only seen him about once every year or so.
That he would be here soon, it was basically unreal and she would deal with his presence when it became a current issue. Right now, she was dealing with Lex, whose high metabolism had burned off what seemed like gallons of booze.
She glared at him through eyes slightly foggy with tears, pain, and exhaustion. “Think you’ll be able to control yourself enough to stay sober for the next day or so, Lex?”
Lex blinked once before replying “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just manage a sentence without cussing?”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”
“Guess I was mistaken.”
“I’m serious, Lex. Do you think you can hold your shit together for this? I’m not happy to tell you of all people this, but I fucking need you. Jules is gone, and I hurt like fucking hell inside and out. I can’t do this shit by myself right now.”
“It’s killing you to say that, isn’t it.”
“Luthor…”
Lex sighed. He HAD promised. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. Very fucking good.”
~*~*~
Lex was smoking. He honest to God could not remember the last time he’d smoked an actual cigarette but right now a little nicotine was doing him a lot of good.
“New dad?”
He looked over at a man, about fifteen years his senior, who was clicking his lighter on and off as he smoked. He just blinked at the man.
“It’s tough the first time. You want to help, you think you know everything, meanwhile your wife’s ready to rip your family jewels off and feed them too you. It gets easier. The birth part. Not the raising them. That never ever gets any easier.” The man said, taking a long drag. “Joanie’s having our fifth right now. She’s got a little while so she gave me clearance for a cig break. But we’re hoping for a girl this time. Five boys is too much.”
“I’m not…”
The man looked at him, quizzically. “Not what?”
“I’m not a father.”
“Not yet. Give it a few hours. You will be. It settles on you. You’ll like it. It’s a good feeling. You’ll never love anyone or anything as much as you’ll love your child once you hold it for the first time.”
“I mean at all. It’s my late brother’s kid. I’m not... I’m not going to be a father.” Ever. He’d never hold a baby with his eyes and Chloe’s hair. Never get to count ten little fingers and ten little toes. Christ, he needed a drink.
“Oh. I’m sorry about your brother. Recent?”
“Yesterday.” Lex said flatly, dropping his used cigarette to the ground and stepping on the butt.
“Shitfuck, man, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You just, you had that new parent jitter about you, so I assumed…”
“You were close. Uncle’s not that bad.”
“No, it’s good. My sister had two before I finished high school. It’s good.”
“You said that already.”
The man sighed heavily. “I know. I just feel like an idiot. You’re in mourning and I’m bothering you. But shutting up isn’t my forte.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Lex replied flatly. “Mind if I bum a cigarette off you? I’m out.” Truth was he hadn’t bought a pack to begin with, instead coaxing one off a sympathetic nurse.
“Sure.” He pulled a filtered cigarette out of his crumpled pack. “I’m Zack Cohen by the way.”
“Lex Luthor.”
They smoked in silence for awhile, tar and smoke and tobacco racing through their lungs. It was bright outside, birds were singing. Lex had an intense urge to go looking for a gun. Whether to shoot himself or everyone else, he wasn’t sure. And after awhile, the urge for violence eased a little leaving an ache for alcohol in its place. But at about the same time, Zack spoke again.
“Thing’s’ll work out. The universe has a way of balancing out. Just…takes awhile.”
“That’s what I hear,” he said in return. Thinking again. Wondering… “This girl of yours, what are you going to name her.”
“Not sure. We’re Jewish, so custom is to name your child after someone no longer among the living. Thing is, all our relatives are alive, grandparents, parents, cousins and the like. And we used up most of our greats on the boys. So we haven’t decided yet.” Zack paused. “What was your brother’s name?”
“Julian.”
“I like it. That was Joanie’s second choice for our youngest, David. Said there were already too many Js running around the house with her and my two oldest. She’s my world, so I figure it doesn’t hurt to let her decide.”
Lex looked at Zack, and for the first time in his life he knew *real* envy. He thought he’d been jealous of Julian but that was nothing compared to what he envied this man. Zack had the life he wanted more than he wanted anything else. His family was alive and well. He had a wife he clearly loved, it was obvious in the very way he said her name. And he had a family, children who he obviously adored and who Lex was pretty sure loved him as well. He wanted so badly to hate this stranger.
“If you run out of ideas, Chloe is a pretty name.”
“Wasn’t she a figure in the New Testament?” Zack asked. “My wife’s not big on Christian-oriented names.”
“She was someone amazing. And she’s dead now. I thought that was your custom, naming your kids after the dead,” He shrugged and took a long inhale of the cigarette.
Zack studied him for a moment. “Loved her a lot?”
Lex didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink.
“I like it. It’s classy. I think Joanie’ll like it too.” Zack glanced at his watch. “Shit, I better go or Joanie’ll have my head. Mazel tov, Lex. On your new niece or nephew. And my condolences on your brother.”
Lex nodded. “Congratulations on your baby.”
“Thanks. Good luck, man.”
“You too.” Lex fought back the urge to scream in pain and rage at life and the world as Zack walked away.
~*~*~
Corinne *loved* her epidural. L-O-V-E, loved it. She was numb from just beneath her oversized breasts to just above her unshaved knees. The last month of her pregnancy Julian had been too weak and she was too far along for sex and so there was no incentive for her to reach that far.
But this, she could do. She could handle this blessed lack of feeling. She was just tired that was all. Beyond tired. 18 hours was a long time to be working as hard as she was.
Her dad would be arriving any minute now. Any minute. Fuck she was almost as nervous about seeing her dad as she was about having the baby.
Her dad had never met Julian. Didn’t know anything more than that she was married, “Too young. You haven’t lived yet!” and was pregnant “Congratulations, princess. If he’s not taking care of you, I’ll kill him.”
But Miles Delaney would not get an opportunity to kill Julian for knocking up his little girl. It was hard to kill someone who was dead.
“Princess?”
Corinne looked up from her dazed, exhausted stare and was face to face with her father. Younger than Lionel Luthor, Miles had auburn hair with silver at the temples and bright green eyes that always seemed to be smiling, even when they were serious.
“Dad?”
Her dad was across her hospital room and at her bedside in three long strides. He took her up in her arms and gave her the hug she’d been needing for hours.
And for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last 20 or so hours, she broke down. She wrapped her arms around her father’s neck so tight she had to have cut off his airflow and sobbed like the broken hearted little girl she really was. She was dying from the pain in her heart.
Her father made gentle hushing noises and stroked her lightly stubbly head. He rocked her slightly back and forth as she continued to weep.
She was hiccupping and breathing hard when at last her tears stopped. It had been years since she’d cried like that in front of anyone. It was good that it had been her father, the decent parent, the sober parent, who had been the one to witness it.
“Princess, are you alright?”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell me what the problem is or am I going to have to pretend you’re seven and play twenty questions?”
“Julian’s gone, Daddy.” Daddy. Christ, she was loosing it. When was the last time she had called him that? She couldn’t have been more than eight.
Outrage and fury painted themselves across Miles’ face and infused themselves in his voice. “Where is he? I’ll hunt the little bastard down for making you cry like that. How dare-“
Corinne shook her head. The metal in her ears clinked together softly. “No. He…He died yesterday Dad. He’s gone.”
“Oh…oh Princess. Oh, Corinne, Princess I’m so sorry. I would have loved to have met him.”
“He would have liked you Dad.” She whispered and then stiffened as the oddly distanced sensation of a contraction rippled through her. She was close, the doctors had said. In fact…
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“See that button, the big fucking red one?”
“The call button.” “You’ve hit the shit. Push that fucker.” She said, eyes darting around nervously. “And Dad?”
He hit the button and turned back to her. “Yes?”
“Run and go find Lex. Lex Luthor. He’s somewhere in this fucking hospital.”
Her father nodded, kissed her forehead, and hurried out of the room.
~*~*~
“Come on Corinne, push!”
“I’M FUCKING PUSHING!”
Dr. Kostic was sitting on a stool looking up between her legs. His hands were gloved and his face was masked and two nurses joined him down there. “No you’re not. PUSH!”
“I FUCKING HATE YOU!”
Her father was holding her hand. Or rather, was allowing his now useless hand to be broken by her vicelike grip. Lex stood on the opposite side of the room- pale, shaking, and in desperate need of a drink.
“Come on, Corinne. The baby’s crowning. One more good push!”
“You can do it, Princess.” Her father hissed, half from excitement half from the pain of nearly having his hand ripped off.
“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.”
“The head is out Corinne,” Dr Kostic called up to her “Lets have one more good push.”
“I already gave you one fucking more, you cocksucker!”
“Well we need one more than that.”
She let loose another groan and her baby slipped free of her body and into Dr. Kostic’s capable hands. Moments later, a shrill cry rent the air as her baby started to cry.
“It’s a boy, Corinne. You have a son.”
Corinne didn’t cry this time. Instead, she started to laugh. Relief and release surging though her body.
Quickly wrapped in a warm blanket, Baby Boy Luthor was handed to his still laughing mother. Lex moved across the room to see his nephew, feeling wrung out and hollow. Both he and Miles stood back a little ways from the bed, letting the mother and child bond.
Corinne did a quick count. Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes. Julian’s dark, thick head of hair.
“Hey baby.” She whispered, trailing a gentle finger across the soft skin of his forehead. “I’m your Mom.” She swallowed. “And your dad, he’s here too. He loves you to fucking pieces.” She kissed the skin she had just been touching and looked down at him. “You’re Julius, is that ok? Julius Sullivan Luthor. I know, the name seems fucking corny right now, but I promise your dad would have liked it. And you’ll grow into it.”
The baby looked up at her with huge blue eyes and blinked. Twice. And Corinne would later swear to anyone who asked that the kid had fucking smiled at her.
“So you do like it. Good, cause you’re stuck with it, Julius.” She swallowed back a tight lump of emotion. “I’ll love you forever, Julius. I promise you that right now.”
The baby blinked again. And Corinne took that to mean that he understood and promised back.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:04:38 GMT -5
Chapter 34 - The Abyss Looks Back Into You
"When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"Nothing I can do to keep your fucked-up ass here?"
"No."
"Well, don't get yourself killed, I guess."
"Thanks, Corinne."
"I'm not fucking kidding, Lex. You get yourself killed and hell hath no fucking fury like a pissed off mother."
"I know. I'll call you when I get to Metropolis."
"No, you fucking won’t. You'll get drunk, get high, get some pussy, and pass out. Call me after the fucking hangover eases up a little."
"All right."
"You are so fucking lying to me. You totally are, you skeevy shit. Get the hell out of here. You'll miss the fucking plane."
"Bye, Corinne. Bye, Julius."
"Bye."
~*~*~
Lex lost all hope for life exactly three days after arriving back in Metropolis. He looked up at a grey sky through the skyscrapers, at 3 p.m. on a muggy day and felt his soul die in his body. It wasn't as if he'd had a choice in the matter at that moment, everything in him had simply given up just given up.
He didn't go to campus for the classes he had reenrolled in. Instead Lex waited for the sun to go down, before he hit the clubs. It didn’t matter where he went. Whether the club catered to the wealthy or was in the slums, whether the patrons were straight or gay. He didn’t care, as long as he could score.
And score he did. A first class ticket to sensation for a body that was dead on the inside.
He was pretty sure that it had been ecstasy that night, but he honestly couldn't remember. Nor did he care. Combined with the alcohol and the weed, whatever had been in that little pill had been enough to absolutely disconnect him from the life he was not living.
Lex also had no idea who he’d had sex with that night. He couldn't remember what they had looked like. He wasn't even sure what gender his partner had been, since whomever it was that had supplied him with a reasonably distracting orgasm had been long gone when he’d woken up the next morning.
But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered anymore. And he doubted much of anything would matter again.
On the day after Lex's lost his hope, he deleted a message from Wendy and blocked her phone calls. She had called to offer support. He didn't want it. He was too busy throwing himself into the void.
~*~*~
The day Lex lost his grip was rather unremarkable; it had been a cold fall day in New York. He'd been in his penthouse, doing coke (enough of it to topple Keith Richards in an effort to beat out his meteor-enhanced metabolism), listening to Rage Against the Machine, and trying to decide which faceless girl in his rolodex to call for a fuck when the package arrived.
The courier had been nervous, more than nervous. First timer, rookie, poor sap who probably hadn't been on the job more than a week and wasn't used to seeing obscene wealth.
The manila envelope had been heavy in Lex's high-induced ultra-sensitive hands. He’d carried it back to the couch with him and ripped open the top. He’d upended the envelope over the glass-covered coffee table and dumped the contents on the table.
He’d felt bile rise in his throat as about 30 photographs and a handwritten note on folded white paper landed on the glass. He’d taken one look at the pictures, his high had gone south and he’d thrown up all over his carpet.
Pictures of Chloe had littered the coffee table. Captured moments of her laughing, smiling, talking, yelling, fighting, sleeping, dancing, and making love filled his view when he’d been able to sit up again.
He wanted to kill. He’d been screaming with rage but couldn't hear his voice because no sound had emerged from his throat. Everything had been detached and fragmented. Surreal, like a dream.
Someone had been watching them. More specifically, someone had been watching her. Stalking her. But why?
He’d snatched up the note with shaking hands and unfolded it. Scrawled handwriting he didn't recognize had blurred in his eyes for amount before he could read. And when he could see the words again, he’d felt another wave of nausea rise in him.
Sorry about your brother. Sanders wouldn't have wanted you to have this, but you're in a fucked up place and I owe you this much. She was pretty.
Sorry, VR
Hate. Pure, unadulterated, overpowering hate pulsed through his body. He couldn't breathe for the force of his hate. And his inability to do anything to Donovan Sanders; safely protected not only by his family's sphere of influence, but by Lionel Luthor as well, shook him down to the core of his being. It left him hollow and broken at the unfairness of the world.
Lex did one line of coke. Then another, before he pulled out the lighter he now carried on him almost at all times and burned all but a few of the pictures.
He kept one of her laughing; her head thrown back, her face alight, his necklace and a barely noticeable shadow of hickies on her neck. He kept a picture of her sitting next to him and Wendy on one of the steps outside the main building, waiting for classes. He kept one of the two of them, obviously shot through a window, sleeping in each other's arms. And he kept a picture of her looking at something out of sight with a wide, wicked smile on her lips. Holding the pictures in his hands, he closed his eyes and tried to fight back the unending rush of pain in his heart.
~*~*~
Lex groaned and shuddered on top of her as he climaxed. She had already come, hot and hard around him. The blonde beneath him was a screamer, calling out to God, and Jesus, and Heaven as she met her orgasm. Chloe's passion had been quieter, but at the same time more focused and overwhelming for her.
This girl was slim, and straight. No real curves save the breasts she’d obviously bought. Chloe had been full and beautiful in body and spirit.
Unreal. His current fuck might as well have been made of plastic for as much as she did for him save the basic release. She was a pale, unacceptable substitute for the real thing.
He pulled out and rolled over. As almost an after thought, he removed the used condom and dropped it in a trashcan that sat next to the guest bed. Don't let her start talking, Lex thought. Let her be smart enough to know to just get up and leave. He was tired, used up, and his high was starting to fade. Sobriety was a fucking bitch and he didn't want to talk to this nameless woman without the proper chemicals in his brain.
"You're a god,” she whispered, her sensuality sounding forced.
Lex didn't respond at first. Instead he sat up and got out of bed. "I want you out before first light tomorrow morning,” he said sharply, before heading to his room.
He didn't want to sleep in a bed with a body that wasn't Chloe's. He didn't want to have pillow talk with a woman who wasn't Chloe.
He made a stop at the bathroom first. Digging through the medicine cabinet, he grabbed a few Valium and silently blessed Toby, his ever so accommodating "doctor". He took the pill dry and dragged himself into the guest bed, hoping his metabolism would let the medicine do its work.
~*~*~
New York City March, 2000
Lex didn't pay attention to the noise or pulsing lights around him. He never noticed the bright clothing and beautiful people in the backroom of the posh Manhattan club. It was the same as every other club he'd been in, filled with the same music and the same people only with different names and different decoration colors and styles.
/It seems like every day's the same And I'm left to discover on my own /
But then, he didn't really see things in color anymore, not when he was sober. The ability to feel much of anything had died with his brother and Chloe. Now the few seconds of living, of true awareness he had, came only through drugs.
/It seems like everything is gray And there's no color to behold/
Amanda, the girlfriend of his roommate from his brief tenure at NYU (college number 7 as Met U had expelled him for, surprise surprise, possession with intent to sell and the charges that were so neatly taken care of by Luthor family lawyers and a large donation to the school), had pulled him into a hug once and told him that everything was going to be fine. He'd been stoned at the time, so he'd laughed in her face and then tried to fuck her. Needless to say, she'd been a little upset, but more understanding than some. Most likely that was because she seemed to understand far better than most he’d met, including her boyfriend Jude, how much pain he was in.
/They say it's over and I'm fine again, yeah Try to stay sober feels like I'm dying here/
But he remembered her attempt to comfort, and the words she'd used. "You'll be fine, Lex. I know you will. You just need ease up on the powder a little. Try being sober more often."
/And I am aware now of how Everything's gonna be fine one day Too late, I'm in hell /
Fuck sober, Lex thought as he empted the plastic baggy of coke out onto the glass table in front of him.
/I am prepared now, Seems everyone's gonna be fine One day too late, just as well/
You'll be fine, she'd told him. You'll be all right, she'd said. The pain will ease.
Bullshit.
/I feel the dream in me expire And there's no one left to blame it on /
His entire life had been one catastrophe after another. One thing ripped from him after another. Until he was left as he was now, with nothing.
Poor little rich boy, he thought derisively. He had more money than God and was more miserable than anyone else he had ever met.
But then, he had reason didn't he? He was a human plague. Everything he touched turned to ashes and everyone he loved met an untimely end.
/I hear you label me a liar 'cause I can't seem to get this through /
He'd lost the ability to function without the booze and the drugs he consumed at an alarming rate. He didn't sleep much anymore and when he did it was for days on end with no dreams. He was emaciated and paler than usual. A walking talking skeleton still tied to a world that he had long since stopped living in.
/You say it's over, I can sigh again, yeah Why try to stay sober when I'm dying here/
It would be so easy, Lex thought, as he set up a few lines of coke. The razorblade in his hand glinted in the pulsating light of the club. Just a quick downward cut on his wrists and it would be a quick march into death. He wondered if his mother, sister, Chloe, and Jules would be waiting for him on the other side or if suicide really was a hell worthy trespass. He couldn't for the life of him make it matter one way or the other.
"Can I use your blade?"
The moment passed as Lex handed the razor to a fellow club patron.
It wasn't like he had the guts to cut his wrists with that enticing straight razor anyway. Lex supposed it was just another way he failed to live up to the family name. A true Luthor would have ended it already.
/And I'm not scared now. I must assure you/
Lex leaned out of his seat and over the line of coke on the shining table in that pulsing backroom. He covered one side of his nose and breathed in the white powder, shaking his head as the dust hit the sensitive skin in his nose.
There was no point in staying clean anymore anyway, he thought as he rubbed his nose gently. He had nothing to look forward to, nothing to dream for, nothing to hope for any longer. Why bother taking care of the outside when he had already died inside?
/You're never gonna get away And I'm not scared now. And I'm not scared now. No/
Instead, Lex was slowly killing himself in his own way, waiting for the drugs to take their toll on his body, his high metabolism taking away from the little joy he could get from the ride. Ninety percent of what little sensation he had left in his life came from narcotics now. Five percent came from the string of soulless bodies who were nothing more than faded orgasms and hazy hangovers. And the last smidgen of feeling came in the monthly set of pictures of Julius that Corinne sent like divorced husbands send alimony.
/I am aware now of how everything's gonna be fine one day Too late, I'm in hell/
His place in the world was gone. When his connection with those around him had faded and dispersed, his ability to do anything, even breathe, seemed impossibly hard to do without help. Help that would take only a few more seconds to kick in.
/I am prepared now Seems everyone's gonna be fine One day/
And few moments later, he felt the high hit him. A few minutes of joy, a few minutes of feeling, a few minutes of remembering what his world had once been like, when he'd been part of reality and not trapped in his own private hell.
/Too late, just as well I am prepared now, Seems everything's gonna be fine for me For me; for myself. For me, for me, for myself For me, for me, for myself/
~*~*~
It was NOT the first time he had woken up in jail. It was the first time, however, he had woken up in jail with his sister-in-law glowering at him.
He hated himself as he looked at her. She looked good. Her body was pretty much back to its old shape and her hair had grown back in some. It was down to just below her ears and grey, from the compounded trauma of giving birth and loosing her husband within 24 hours, with green streaks.
Things had gone from bad to worse with the very recent Club Zero incident. His drug abuse had escalated to a point where he was waiting for the morning when he just wouldn't wake up at all.
Soon, very soon he felt, his father was going to take an even more active step and he dreaded it. Lionel had limited his involvement in Lex’s life to simple surveillance over the past year or so. But after Jude’s shooting, Lionel had mandated an imminent exile. Most likely he’d be shipped out the Smallville shit factory. The waiting was driving him crazy and Lex could feel the shadow of his father hovering over him like a tangible presence.
"What the motherfuck were you thinking?" Corinne snapped, glaring at him through the bars.
He shrugged, surprised at how little his head hurt. He would have expected a bigger hangover all things considered. "I would tell you Corinne, but I have no idea what I did so…"
"You make my fuckin' stomach turn Lex. When are you gonna quit this petty, juvenile bullshit and grow the fuck up?"
"Says the former campus whore."
Lex could see it in her face. He had crossed the line in a big way and was suddenly incredibly grateful to be on the opposite side of the bars from her.
"Be grateful as fuck that I can’t reach you right now you dick-looking piece of shit. I would tear you limb from fucking limb, got me cocksucker?" She hissed, wrapping her hands around the bars.
"Corinne I-"
"No. Shut the fuck up and listen to me. You are not going to continue to fucking do this Luthor. If you fucking ever want to see Julius again, I strongly suggest that you do exactly what I fucking tell you. I will post your goddamn bail. And I will make fucking sure that your dad doesn't find out. And in return you will check your ass into a fucking clinic."
"Corinne-"
She snarled and glared at him. "What part of shut the fuck up do you not understand?"
Lex sat silently.
"You're going to check yourself into a fucking clinic. You will clean the fuck up. You will stop trying to fucking kill yourself on a regular goddamn basis. And after you come out of the Betty, you will, I repeat, will stay sober as a motherfucking judge. Are we clear?"
Lex could only nod.
~*~*~ Somewhere in California, February 2001
"I'm Lex and," Lex looked around and snorted to himself. This was such bullshit. What the hell did Corinne hope to achieve by manipulating him into this? Something about saving him. "And I'm a drug addict and alcoholic."
"Hi Lex."
Lex looked around angrily. "This is stupid," he muttered. He shouldn't be here. He didn't need fucking help. He needed a fix and some quiet. And he wasn't going to get either from the sympathetic faces.
Disgusted, he pushed his chair back from the group and left the room. But the sound of shoes on the linoleum told him he'd been followed. He sighed. Couldn't these assholes take a hint?
"Having a hard time?" Asked Malcolm, a counselor who had taken a specific interest in Lex during his time at rehab. Lex wanted to beat the living tar out of him.
"Leave me the hell alone."
"It will get easier, Lex. At this point you really need to let go and let God. Trust that your higher power will get you past the withdrawal phase and into sobriety."
Lex snorted. "Let God. Let God what? Do more damage than he already has?"
"Let God handle it. If you want to heal, Lex, you're going to have to give yourself over to a higher power. I know this is difficult but you need to understand that a higher power doesn't necessary equate with God," Malcolm said gently.
"Fuck your goddamn higher power. God didn't just screw me over. God raped me and left me bleeding in an alley. So don't spout to me about a higher power's influence. We make our own destinies."
The man stood still, looking carefully at Lex. "Who did you lose, Alexander? Who left you that brought you so far down into despair?"
"None of your fucking business," Lex snarled, his fists clenching.
"So I take it you loved her very much."
Lex just glared at him. Insightful motherfucker.
"Love is what heals, Lex. It shouldn't be tearing you apart like this. It was enough that you had time with her, loved her, whoever she was. The God you claim violated you gave you a gift for the time you were granted."
"That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."
"Let me ask you this Lex, if you had the chance to go back and never meet and love whoever it was that was taken from you. To never have known them, would you take it?"
Lex stared the man down. He was tired of the psychobabble bullshit, of the sayings, of the mindfucks. He wanted to go home, goddamn it.
"Would you, Lex? If you had the opportunity to make it different, would you take it?"
"Yes. She'd still be alive and I wouldn't be here in this cesspool," Lex said harshly. Anything would have been better than the dead, icy feeling that filled him.
"Then you're not ready to be healed yet," Malcolm said gently, his eyes sad.
"Fuck you."
Malcolm sighed. "Right now, the only person you're fucking over is yourself. You're here for a reason Lex. Try to make use of what's offered."
Lex watched him walk away, silently reassuring himself. Twenty days. Only twenty more days before he was out. In fact, he was almost looking forward to his banishment. Almost.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:06:38 GMT -5
A/N:THE CHLOE IN THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN TO THE PAST!!! I REPEAT! THE CHLOE IN THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN TO THE PAST!!!
Please keep that in mind as you read chapter 35
Chapter 35 - New Friends and Old Ghosts
Smallville, 2001
Lex could feel the water filling his lungs. And for some reason his imminent death didn't bother him. And why should it? He didn't really have anything tying him to life and death meant he'd be reunited with Chloe and his family and he couldn't be upset about that. Worry for the kid on the bridge was the last thought that crossed his mind before blackness swallowed him up and he was flying through nothingness.
When Lex came to, he was lying on the riverbank vomiting up water. His chest was aching and his head was throbbing. He rolled onto his back and looked up at a black haired teenage boy. His first thought was that he looked achingly similar to Julian. His second was that he had run this kid down with his car.
"I could have sworn I hit you," Lex whispered, his throat sore.
"If you did, I'd be- I'd be dead," the teen said, shooting a glance back to mangled and broken railing on the bridge.
"Are you all right?" Lex asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm not the one who was trapped in a watery grave."
"You're right. Well thank you for saving my life…"
"Clark. Clark Kent. And I’m sure you would have done the same for me."
Lex smiled. Yup, this kid definitely reminded him of Julian. "I'd like to think that, too. I'm Lex Luthor. I wish we had met under better circumstances."
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure my folks will let you dry off, and give you a ride to where you were headed."
"Thank you," Lex said quietly.
~*~*~
Lex surveyed Nell Porter's stable with surprise. He hadn't expected quite the level of comfort he saw. Nell ran a flower shop and was not particularly wealthy. At least, in all the years she'd been power-fucking his father he hadn't noticed the familiar scent of money on her.
She'd always been nice to him though. Not particularly compassionate or interested in him, but decent. And that was enough to warrant a quick hello in his book. He'd done more for his hated enemies.
The sound of hooves on turf made him turn. Lana Lang, the princess of Smallville and the holder of young Clark Kent's heart, was riding into the stable.
"Your form's good but his gait's off. You might want to check your shoes." He held out a hand to her after she’d climbed off her horse. "Lex Luthor. I'm a friend of your aunt's."
Lana didn't take his hand. Instead she began tending to the animal that had so patiently carried her. "Sneaking up like that. You're lucky you didn't get kicked."
He tried again "You must be Lana. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
She scoffed. "We've already met."
Lex suppressed a sigh. She was no different from the social climbing debutants of Metropolis, New York, and Gotham. Utterly superior to everyone and everything. But he laid the charm on thickly nonetheless. "I seriously doubt I'd forget meeting you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You were a little preoccupied at the time."
Lex did not give in to the impulse to rub the bridge of his nose. Instead, he plied her with a slightly bashful pseudo-smile. "I get the feeling I didn't make a great first impression."
"When I was ten, I went to Metropolis for a riding competition."
Lex did sigh, though not audibly, as the little girl had now decided to launch into storytelling. He waited patiently for her to finish.
"Your father invited us to stay over. My aunt said you had an indoor pool. When I went to check it out, I found you and a girl skinny-dipping. I think you were teaching her the breast stroke."
Lex was caught a little by surprise. He remembered that. He'd been fucking his flavor of that week, a redhead with a truly amazing rack that had to have been produced by Metropolis's finest plastic surgeons, when a tiny little girl had appeared at the edge of the pool. Needless to say, it had definitely killed the mood. He remembered the redhead reacting to the fact that they had gotten caught more than he remembered her face or her name.
"That was you? Wow. You're all grown up now." That was the summer before he met Chloe, one of his last casual flings before he found her.
He glanced over at the ribbons and trophies that hung on the wall and made an artful attempt to shift the topic. "Very impressive."
"It's tacky. But it makes my aunt happy."
Lex's gaze traveled politely over the vast array of accolades before landing on a picture of her, smiling of course, with the same strange green necklace he'd found on the ground near where Clark had been literally crucified. It made him pause. "That's a very unusual necklace."
"Thanks. It's very special to me."
Lex didn't correct her that 'unusual' was not that same thing as 'pretty', nor was it necessarily a compliment. In reality it was a little garish, but hey, it made her happy so he wasn't going to nitpick.
Instead he asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question. "How come you're not wearing it?"
"I lent it to my boyfriend."
That made him think. People and events quickly clicked into place. Of course. It made sense that jealousy had prompted her boyfriend into punishing Clark, Roman style. What an asshole. "Lucky guy. What's his name?" He asked, as if he didn't know.
"Whitney Fordman."
"The kid that Kent saved today?"
"I just came back from seeing him. He's lucky Clark was there." She said seriously.
"I know the feeling." Lex replied, remembering the suffocating feeling of gallons of water flooding his lungs. He pushed the memory back and moved to strike a blow for his friend. Clark had saved his life, he owed him that much. "Kind of makes you wonder if you're with the right guy. One chucks footballs, the other helps save lives."
"For someone who just moved into town, you've got a lot of opinions."
Little girl, Lex thought, you have no idea.
"You just seem more interesting than that." Lex bullshitted. "While you're nursing your boyfriend back to health, ask him what he was doing before the big game."
Lana was suddenly defensive. "He was with me."
"Are you sure?" He asked laying one final blow to her confidence in Whitney. "Tell your aunt I stopped by." He said with a smirk before turning to go.
Nell Porter had never been that interesting. Apparently, her niece wasn't either. But Clark was infatuated with her and for the boy who had saved his life and was quickly becoming the first friend he'd had since Julian's death he could tolerate her.
~*~*~
"Two trips in one week. I'm flattered, Dad."
"What is this?" Lionel waved a report at Lex.
Whoo, Lex thought, he is mad, isn’t he? It was a delightful thing to witness. "It's my new proposal. I worked out how to cut the operation budget by twenty percent without losing a single job."
He'd worked overtime on that proposal with Gabe Sullivan for hours. For the first time, he was actually proud of something he'd done in the business. And there was no way in hell he was going to let his father ruin it.
"Lex," Lionel said his fury thinly veiled, "I specifically told you to cut your workforce."
"Why?" He asked, knowing Lionel's motives had nothing to do with the plant. "With this plan, you don't get the bad P.R."
"That's not the point."
No, of course it wasn't. The good of the whole was never the point with Lionel. Winning, being obeyed, and ruling all he surveyed was the point with Lionel.
Lex had refused to kowtow to his mandate to save hundreds of jobs and in so doing, had (gasp) disobeyed his father. It fucked with Lionel's warped perception of himself as master of the universe. And that was making him very angry. So angry, that the careful façade of calm his father had worn for years was starting to show hairline fractures and cracks. They were cracks that Lex used to his advantage.
"Careful, Dad, you're getting emotional," Lex said, throwing out that old slam, not that he believed it. Too much of Chloe's influence still lingered within him for him to be that callous.
He picked up a foil, and studied it, remembering his loss to his father a few days ago. It wouldn't happen again. He learned from his mistakes. "We could always try a rematch...or are you afraid you can't take your son again?"
"You get one,” Lionel said smoothly.
"One what?"
"One chance to defy me,” he said sharply.
Lex chuckled as he looked at his father's face. He could still feel his hand smashing into that face the one time he had ever raised a hand to his father. If one were even slightly sane, which Lionel was not, he would have counted the blow to the face as defiance. How skewed Lionel's world was. And how lonely, as he continued to push away the only family he had simply because he had been defeated in a meaningless battle of wills.
"I can't figure out what you hate more, the fact that my plan works, or that you didn't come up with it first,” Lex said on a slight sigh.
"Just remember, empires aren't built on clever bookkeeping."
"Dad," he said coolly, "You have no idea what I'm capable of."
Lex smiled at his father just a little. Years of pain and sadness were hidden behind that smile. Pushed back even further, behind those emotions was his desire to kill the man in front of him for taking from him the one thing that meant the most. If he were smart, he would take Lex's words as the threat they were.
~*~*~
His plant manager Gabe Sullivan kept harping on about his daughter "Chloe this" and "Chloe that." At first it was simply annoying, but after enough weeks of it, Lex began to get slightly interested. According to Gabe, she worked on her high school newspaper. According to Gabe, she was a spitfire. Of course, according to Gabe she was a "looker just like her mother."
Curiosity was Lex's tragic flaw, and the reason he was now in the Torch office. That and the fact that he had just finished buying a little good will from the principal in the form of a new computer lab. Now the meeting was over and he stood gazing at the collage on the wall. Pictures and articles about meteorites and mutants and other strange occurrences were tacked up in a seemingly chaotic but ordered manner.
"Most of my friends are trying to get OUT of high school," a familiar voice said.
He turned to face Clark and gave him a small but sincere smile. It was haunting how similar Clark was to Julian. They had the same warmth, similar features, and the same innocence about the cruelty of the world.
He was doing his best to make up for everything he had done wrong with Julian. Clark would never have to wonder if Lex cared for him, the way Jules had for years. He'd do everything he could to keep from letting Clark down the way he had Jules. And that had to count for something; it just had to.
"I was meeting with your principal. Apparently, you guys are in dire need of a new computer lab. I figured I could help."
Clark tossed his jacket on a chair and shrugged. "They might even name a lunch special after you. How'd you end up here?"
Lex chuckled inwardly at the idea of the students of Smallville High eating Lex Luthor Lasagna every Wednesday before answering. "My plant manager, Gabe. He's always going on about his daughter, the reporter in the Torch. Thought I'd drop by and say hello. She wasn't around, but I was struck by this."
"That's Chloe's hobby. She thinks she can trace all the freak things in Smallville to the meteor shower."
"Interesting theory."
"Most people think it's crazy."
Lex didn't point out that most people thought that the idea of a spherical earth was crazy at one point in time, or that most people had thought that the idea of the sun being the center of the solar system was crazy as well. "Maybe." He paused. "Do you remember where you were when it fell?"
Clark glanced at his feet. "Not really. My parents hadn't adopted me yet."
"I do. I was right here in Smallville. My mother wanted me to spend some quality time with my dad." Why was he telling Clark this? Why? His mouth was moving but he had absolutely no control over the words that came out. Just because he felt comfortable with Clark was no reason to tell him this much. Although, why not tell him? It wasn't something he particularly needed to hide. Either way, he continued on. "He brought me here on a business trip, just a quick hop to Smallville to finalize a deal. Funny how one day can change your whole life."
"What happened?" Clark's eyes were wide and intent. It was nice, Lex decided, to have someone actually listen instead of just waiting to speak for a change. It had been a long time since he'd had that.
"I was out in a cornfield when the first meteor hit. It was like a tidal wave coming at me. Then everything went black. Next thing I remember, I was waking up in Metropolis General completely bald." He remembered a burning smell too, but Clark didn't need that much detail. No one did.
"Lex, I didn't know. "
He looked so upset it made Lex laugh a little. The poor kid was taking it far too personally. "Not many people do, Clark." Lex walked toward the wall, looking at the pictures of the devastation the shower had caused. "I should've died that day. Instead I walked away with this." He raked his hand over his head.
"I'm sorry."
"Why?" Lex asked, a little disappointed by the requisite answer. "It's not your fault."
Lex gave Clark a level stare. He'd already opened up, started spilling the embarrassingly mundane secrets he held from most of the world. Why stop now? He couldn't think of any better way to gain Clark's trust than this. And that was something he desperately wanted, for Clark to trust him the way Julian had. "When I was younger, I thought it was a curse. Kids figured I was a freak or on chemo." By that point, he'd been done with chemo for two years. It hadn't mattered. He'd still been bald. "Then I began to see it as my gift, the thing that defined me, that gave me strength."
Then Chloe had entered his life and found his abnormality not only special but beautiful. He'd stopped hating that part of himself the first time she laid a kiss on his bare scalp.
"Do you ever wonder what you'd be like, you know, if you hadn't come that day?"
Lex smiled a little, and shook his head. He had wondered about a lot of things in his life. What if his father loved him? What if he hadn't let Lena leave the house the day of the limo wreck? What if Chloe had not been killed? What if Jules had never had cancer? What if…? He couldn't play the 'what if' game anymore. It was too painful. "It doesn't matter, Clark. It happened. Personally, I think my future's going to be brighter than that spoiled, rich brat who walked into that cornfield."
Silence. That was definitely an uncomfortable silence. Lex was about to say something, hopefully something that was witty and/or amusing but Gabe's daughter's arrival aborted that.
"Mr. Luthor."
Lex turned towards her and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. Christ, he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no way the blonde vision in front of him, smiling at him, could be real. He'd only done acid a few times during his drug phase but this had to be a flashback.
It was a doppelganger, a stranger wearing the face and voice of his lost love. He felt like her memory had been violated. He forced his lips to curve upward into a wide, quick smile.
"It's Lex." He said, moving across the room to her.
Christ, he thought as he shook her hand, her skin even felt the same. It was punishment, karmic payback for everything bad he'd done in this life and all lives before.
He had come here to see her. But he hadn't known. He hadn't had even the faintest idea that he would find a mirror image of his Chloe in the hallowed halls of Smallville High.
Years of dealing with his father and his father's business associates had taught him how to conjure small talk when his mind was in utter chaos and execute it fairly believably. "Clark was just telling me your meteor theory. I like it."
"Thanks." Chloe replied, seeming a little shocked. She had a slight flush in her cheeks that Lex struggled to ignore.
"Especially since most people think my company is secretly behind everything that goes wrong in Smallville."
"That's the reigning theory” she said with another smile.
"Are you the only one that blames the meteors instead of me?" Lex asked, attempting to focus on something other than the shape of her lips and failing miserably.
Chloe chuckled before she spoke but that was all it took. He had to get out of there. He had to get away from her. "Pretty much. Well, there is Mr. Hamilton."
Clark scoffed. "Except most people don't have too high a regard for a guy who sells plastic meteor chips to tourists."
"Doesn't exactly inspire confidence." Lex replied as he filed the information about Dr. Hamilton in his mind, all the while executing his escape. He turned one last time to Chloe. He looked down into her upturned face. Fucking hell, she was radiant and he had to get out of there now. "Call me when you're looking for a summer job. I've got friends over at the Inquisitor."
He turned to Clark. "I'll see you tomorrow. I hear you're escorting the birthday girl. Nice work." He didn't wait for an answer as he headed to the door. He was almost out when Clark's voice stopped him.
"We're just going as friends," He called, his tone defensive.
"Sure you are,” Lex replied, the sarcasm evident even to Clark. "Hope you got her a nice gift." He smiled a little and then headed out the door.
He had to remind himself not to run once he made it into the hallway. Successful billionaires did not run away like scared children. Besides that, Italian leather shoes on linoleum would land him with a head injury. But once he was out of the school and safely in his car he let out a long, heavy sigh.
It was scary, how much Gabe's Chloe was like his own. Horrifying even. But she couldn't be the same person. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't.
"It is not possible, damn it,” Lex said aloud as he started the ignition. He repeated his mantra the entire way home to the castle stopping only when he encountered the first member of his staff.
~*~*~
Clark had been fiddling with the camera for a half an hour already. That was a half an hour, that Chloe could have spent pumping the ever-so-eloquent Mr. Luthor for information, that was wasted.
"Are you ready now, Clark?" Chloe asked, her voice tinged with irritation. It had taken months for her to get Clark to convince Mr. Luthor to agree to an interview, albeit grudgingly.
"Yeah. I forgot to press the record button. Sorry."
That was as good as a green light to her so she launched into her first question. "So, Mr. Luthor. Are there anymore secret construction projects going on at LuthorCorp like Level 3?"
"Please, call me Lex,” he said coolly, a small smile touching his lips.
Chloe stared straight at him, refusing to be dissuaded. He had a strange obsession with hearing his name said aloud but hey, different strokes for different folks. She mentally shrugged it off before continuing on her chosen subject with pit-bull-like tenacity. "Okay, Lex. Are you going to answer my question?"
"Chloe..." Clark scolded.
"What?"
"It's okay, Clark,” Lex soothed. "Our critics are our friends. They show us our faults."
"Benjamin Franklin," Chloe shot back. She'd met him all of twice and suddenly they were friends? She was on a first name basis with her friends. Friends did not go out of their way to not talk to friends. Friends did not seem to avoid each other like Mr. Luthor avoided her. At least, he seemed impressed. He should be, Chloe thought. She wasn't some dull chit of a girl who had no idea what was going on.
He was about to answer. She knew he was about to answer when one of Lex's employees entered the room. "Excuse me, Mr. Luthor. Your father's on the phone."
"I need to get this. I'll take it in the conservatory." He leaned forward towards Chloe, invading her personal space bubble. "I look forward to resuming our verbal judo."
Uh huh, sure he did.
~*~*~
The little blonde reporter had been pushed out a window. Out of a fucking window. As the paramedics had lifted the unconscious girl into an ambulance, Lex had done everything in his power to keep from simply retching where he stood.
The blonde had hit the ground and his heart had stopped beating for a few seconds. Clark's friend, the little mirror of his love, had be so close to following in his Chloe's foot prints by dying young in a fall.
But she wasn't dead, damn it, she wasn't. She was ok, or rather, she would be ok after some surgery and a few months of recovery time.
She had been so close though. Seeing her bruised form on his lawn had been overwhelmingly painful, ripping open barely healed wounds in his heart.
Lex was able to wait until the paramedics and the police and Clark had left before he lost it completely. He sent the servants home and barricaded himself in the bathroom.
He let the hot water from twin showerheads mounted on opposite sides of the shower pelt his face. The stream of water sliding down over him allowed him to hide, from the world and himself, any tears that got past his high wall of defenses.
He stood under the stream until eventually, the enormous castle water heaters finally ran out.Lex told himself, as he climbed out of the shower, that he had gotten himself together.
He was fine, he thought as he wrapped a large towel around his waist. Yet, he stood corrected as he looked in bathroom's mirror. His face looked gaunt and his eyes were red.
Lex sighed. He just needed to sleep. That was all. He opened his medicine cabinet and reached for his Valium which he kept, he told himself, for emergencies like this. His hand froze, hovering over the orange pill bottle.
It was just a Valium. That was all. Just a little sleep assistance so he could get through the night. Two pills and boom, he'd go out like a light. It was small. It was fine. Just this one time wouldn't matter.
He hadn't had anything but alcohol in his system since he’d left rehab months ago. He hadn't even had the slightest urge. Except for right after Clark had pulled him out of the river. And the first time he'd met the little reporter; as well as every time he'd seen her since. And every time his father called. And every time Corinne sent him a picture of Julius who looked more like Jules every fucking day.
He hadn't given in any of those times, had he? No, he hadn't. So he'd earned the right to a good night's sleep tonight. Hadn't he? Of course he had.
Why the hell were his hand's shaking as he opened the bottle? It was nothing. Just a tiny pill. Just a little capsule of powder. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.
It stuck in his throat and left a foul taste in his mouth. But at least he'd have some peace. That was worth something, wasn't it?
Lex didn't remember moving but suddenly he was on his knees. He bent low, offering up his insides to the porcelain god. When the contents of his stomach and two light blue pills were both purged, he lifted himself up and flushed the toilet.
His throat hurt and his mouth tasted god-awful. But he hadn't succumbed. He wasn't weak, goddamn it. He wasn't weak.
He found that, after brushing his mouth out vigorously with mint toothpaste, he didn't need a Valium to sleep. The sheer exhaustion of the night had won out over his anxious mind.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:08:13 GMT -5
Chapter 36 – Heat Stroke
The hospital had declared her “under observation” for the next week. Apparently, getting hit by an eighteen-wheeler was a big deal. So Chloe reconciled herself to watching daytime soaps, and eating the slop that was considered food at Smallville Medical Center for a while longer.
In a way, it was a blessing. It was difficult to reconcile herself to the fact that she hadn’t been missed while she had been in Boston with Lex. It had been six months for her. Half a year of separation from her father, Pete, Clark, and everything else in her life here in Smallville had put certain things in a new light. She needed a little time to adjust to the situation.
Some things were better now. After all, she appreciated her father’s nurturing nature far more than she used to. He never left her side while she recuperated. Chloe hadn’t realized just how much she missed his gentle presence.
Then of course, there was the fact that, after half a year of taking care of herself, She had matured greatly. She was used to almost absolute independence. Not to mention the fact that she was a semester ahead of her class here in Smallville.
On the other hand, Clark and Pete were caught in the sharp and harsh light of truth that the distance and time away from them had brought. Clark, who in the old days she had always just assumed he was hiding but now she realized that he was lying through his teeth, almost constantly. He was either a meteor freak or something else. At the time she realized it, she was really too sore and tired to care. Pete had a crush on her. It was obvious now. But she lacked the energy and opportunity to let him down easy at the moment.
Lana was no different to Chloe than when she left, perpetually cheerful, goody-goody golden child cheerleader. Her visits were surprisingly the easiest to tolerate because Lana was easily amused by the sound of her own voice and all Chloe had to do was tune her out.
Then, of course, there was Lex. Lex Luthor who sent her flowers. Roses to be more precise, in that ridiculous, highly impersonal, “I’m willing this problem away with money,” arrangement, like the kind given to the winners of the Kentucky Derby. He didn’t come and see her. He didn’t call. Hell, he didn't even ask after her according to what little information she'd coaxed out of her father.
The Lex in 2002 was not the man she gave herself to, she reminded herself. He was someone else, someone colder and more distant. And he more than likely thought that she was dead. No doubt an old girlfriend rising from the grave and looking to hook up would perturb even him, despite the fact that he had seen people turn into insects, walk through walls, and use telepathy.
She’d spent most of her time in the hospital, watching ironically enough “General Hospital”, clicking the little button for pain relief from all the bruises and abrasions, and trying not to think about what she had lost. Things like her lover, her friends, and her new family, and instead tried to focus through the morphine haze on what she had gotten back instead like her father and Clark and Pete.
It didn’t help much. But she only cried when she was alone. And that, at least, was something.
~*~*~
Chloe felt like a stranger in her own house as she unpacked the suitcase she’d brought home with her from Metropolis. She’d spent the last three months at her cousin Lois’s while she interned at the Daily Planet. She’d left Smallville almost immediately after she’d been released from the hospital. The bruises and cuts had still been evident when she walked into the editor’s office the first Monday of her internship.
Her father had not been happy with her leaving, but he didn’t stop her. For that, Chloe would be eternally grateful to him.
It wasn’t that she’d been unhappy to be home. She’d just needed some time and space away from Smallville, to think and readjust to the present. Besides, she’d been looking forward to the opportunity for ages and she wasn’t going to let a life-altering accident of Fate ruin the experience.
Not to mention of course, the boundless resources the Planet’s databases supplied. She’d spent more than a few late nights ferreting through records and old issues to find out what had happened to her little circle.
Some things had been easy to find. Wendy was a freelance columnist in Central City, no surprise there. A little deeper checking showed that she was still with Wally. They’d announced their engagement in the social papers earlier in the year.
Lex’s life for the past few years had been a parade of drug bust after arrest after sex scandal. His misadventures littered the headlines of the gossip section, culminating in the Club Zero fiasco. Her heart broke at the knowledge, but there was nothing she could do to fix it. What was done, was done.
Corinne had been a little more difficult to find. She was living in Gotham running the Gotham branch of Delaney Inc. with her very young son. But that was all she could find about her aside from paparazzi snapshots of her, piercings and all, from the occasional charity banquet or gala affair.
It had been ten-o-clock on a Wednesday morning when she found out what happened to Julian, the last on her list. After reading the long and poignant obituary, Chloe had gone into autopilot. She’d shut down her computer immediately, mumbled a quick excuse to the nearest reporter, and managed to make it to the restroom before bursting into tears.
It had taken Chloe quite a bit of energy to get a grip on herself. She had battled her breakdown as guilt wracked her. She should have been there to help while he was sick. She should have been the shoulder for Lex to if not cry on then at the very least use as support. She should have been able to go to the funeral and lay flowers on his grave.
Yet somehow she’d managed to get herself together before anyone came into the bathroom. She had taken a few deep breaths and washed her face before going back into the newsroom. No one had even noticed that her eyes and nose were red.
Things had gotten better after that day and her time in Metropolis had flown by. She was more stable, more herself.
Unfortunately, her time in the city hadn’t helped to erase that disconnected feeling. She could only hope that going back to school would do a little better job.
~*~*~
Well, that conversation had been awkward, Chloe thought as she walked away. Clark had done his best to try and spark up a friendly conversation. Evidently, he thought she was still sore from the whole being jilted at the dance thing. Apparently, the long summer break had made him forget that she had already cooled down and gotten over it. She was fine with the fact that he wanted to be with the pink princess. He deserved her.
She still felt a little bad though, lying to him like that. There had been no hot young intern from Metropolis High. The intern from MH was tall, scrawny, covered with acne, and oh yeah, female. Didn’t mean she hadn’t become fast friends with Claudia but all the friends in the world couldn’t have made visiting Julian’s grave any easer.
She turned back and glanced at Clark. He seemed to be on his merry way, oblivious to her pain as usual. She shook her head and headed to her locker.
Strange how different a little thing like a locker could be from place to place. The Smallville High lockers were old and rusted. Most of them required a good hard kick, or punch depending on the elevation, in addition to the correct combination. Hampton’s had been brand-new and glitch free for the most part. Just one more thing she missed.
Chloe sighed as she delivered the quick hit to the metal that jarred the lock free. She’d left her schedule in her locker after orientation so she wouldn’t loose it. She picked up the cardstock and studied it. Honors Biology was first. It was on the other side of the building and if she didn’t leave, she checked her watch, now she would be late.
She arrived at the classroom early, despite her worries. Only a handful of students were there, Clark and Pete among them. Not wanting to sit alone in her current mood, Chloe sat next to Lana, who had really stopped being quite so irritating over the summer. Of all her friends in Smallville, Lana had done the most to keep in contact. Regular emails had actually made them pretty good friends. Who would have guessed?
“Good to be back?” Lana asked softly as she situated herself.
“Good wouldn’t be the word I would use,” Chloe whispered back as a student she knew by face but not by name rolled a creaky projector to the middle of the classroom.
Lana looked ready to reply with something that would most likely be both genuinely supportive and disgustingly saccharine when the door to the classroom was pushed open with a flourish.
All eyes in the room were locked on presumably, the new teacher. She was tall and shapely with long brown hair, sex-kitten eyes, and a dress that was barely there.
Chloe suppressed a laugh at the expression on all the male students’ faces. Step right up ladies and gents, and witness unadulterated teenage lust at its finest.
“Good Morning. I'm Miss Atkins. I'll be your new biology teacher on health and human development.”
Chloe was practically choking on her own tongue to hold back a snicker. Miss Atkins was leaning over to adjust the screen and every pair male eyes, and two or three of the girl’s, were locked on the substitute’s considerable behind.
Standing back up and smiling, Miss Atkins said apologetically, “I'm really sorry about the air conditioning in here, but it looks like we're going to have to suffer through this together.”
“Bring on the pain,” Chloe heard Pete mutter. Lana must have heard it too because she burst into giggles. Chloe smiled as well. Men were so transparent.
The film was boring. The same monotone voice that had been used since the early 60’s in educational movies droned on and on about the scientific aspect of reproduction. Far more applicable was the hot stare that Clark was gracing the substitute with. She laughed to herself. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.
It made her sad, actually. It had been months since Lex had last looked at her like that. Of course, that look had been followed most often by an impassioned and desperate encounter in a closet or bathroom stall. But sometimes, when they both had the self-control to wait, it meant hours of heated, torturously slow lovemaking.
Chloe swallowed against the lump in her throat as she remembered being with Lex. Nothing in the video had anything remotely to do with completing the act itself. But it made her miss his hands in her hair, his lips on her skin, his body…
She was torn roughly from her thoughts by the smell of smoke. She glanced around and saw the projector screen was in flames.
“Ok everybody,” Miss Atkins said a picture of coolness under pressure, “Walk, do not run! Leave your books. Let's go!”
~*~*~
Classes all over the school had been brought to a screeching halt by the fire. The majority of the student body was now gathered in the parking lot in front of the school.
Chloe sat with Lana near the schools main steps while Clark and Pete were next to the fire trucks. Always where the action was, you could find Clark Kent. She’d get the truth out of him eventually but it was no longer her main focus.
But all thoughts of Clark’s lies vanished at the sight of a sleek sports car tearing into the parking lot. Her heart seemed to take up residence in her throat as Lex Luthor climbed out of his car in an obvious hurry. God, he was gorgeous. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten just how amazing he looked.
He was still painfully handsome. But a different kind of aura permeated off him now. It was one of absolute self-control and superiority. Even in crisis and he rushed forward to talk to Clark, he was collected. Cold. The coldness was heartbreaking.
She watched as he talked briefly to Clark before moving on. Right on to…god, no.
Chloe’s heart stopped beating as she watched Lex and the freaking substitute teacher neck in the school parking lot. The kiss broke as he then stroked her hair and spoke gently to her. And Chloe’s heart shattered at the look of tenderness that was evident from all the way across the parking lot.
It hurt so very badly to watch him bestow love on a woman other than her. A woman who fit into his type with a long body and thick brown hair. She bitterly hoped they’d be happy together. He deserved, Lord, he deserved all the happiness in the world. But why couldn’t be happy with her?
Somewhere nearby a fireman gave the ‘all clear.’ But Chloe remained frozen until Lana poked her gently in the side.
“Come on, Chloe, we’ve got to get to class.”
“Yeah, of course,” Chloe said, flashing a quick grin, digging up a retort from deep within her witticism reserves. “Not hail, nor meteor, nor threat of fire can stop the public school system.”
She and Lana were joined by Pete moments later, and the three of them waited for Clark. He wandered in a few minutes after most of the other students, a white envelope in his hand and a dumbfounded look on his face.
“Clark?” Lana asked gently, “Are you all right?”
Clark nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…surprised is all. Lex is getting married. Tonight. Can you believe it?”
The group began walking to their next class, not noticing that Chloe was screaming inside.
~*~*~
The wedding was simply beautiful, a fairy tale come to life. The bride was a vision in white and the groom couldn’t have been more handsome in his tuxedo if he tried. Lex and Desiree couldn’t have looked more deliriously in love if they tried.
The whole thing made Chloe so fucking angry she saw red. She wanted to beat that substitute skank over the head with one of the white folding chairs until she lay limp and bleeding. She wanted to slap Lex silly. She wanted to make a screaming, raving scene.
Instead, she eyed one of the flutes of champagne and wondered if she could get away with getting drunk at this matrimonial torture chamber. A glimpse of her father a few feet away from her killed that idea.
She swallowed hard as she watched as Lex fed Desiree wedding cake off his hand. This should have been hers. She fought back tears and decided to hell with her dad. The man she loved was married to someone else and she wanted a drink. Even if it was just a single glass of the most expensive champagne money could buy.
She glanced over at Clark before grabbing a drink off a table. He motioned to her and headed over.
“Hey Chloe, I’ve been looking all over for you.”
She smiled and chuckled. It was forced but Sir Clark, Knight of the Perpetual Obliviousness didn’t notice as he started walking with her across the veranda.
“Hey. Really? I'm not that hard to find, Clark.” She sighed and pointed at the beautiful decorations when they found a suitable spot on the opposite side of the reception. “Only Lex Luthor could put together a fairy tale wedding in less than 48 hours.” Lex was an amazing planner. He could make things come together in a way that was really quite brilliant. Too bad he had used that talent to marry that life-draining, gold digging, bitch-whore.
Clark laughed at that for a little while before sobering. “Look... you seemed a little distant this morning. I wanna make sure everything's OK between us.”
Chloe fought the urge to shake him out of his self-centeredness. It had nothing to do with him. It had nothing to do with his relationship with Lana. She didn’t begrudge him happiness with the Pink Princess if that was what he wanted.
Instead she faked another grin. She was bleeding inside over this whole Lex marriage to another woman thing and yet was somehow managing to stay composed all the while. She could almost hear Meryl Streep’s voice in her head “And the Oscar goes to…”
“Yeah, it’s honkey-dorey.” She chided herself at how hollow that sounded. Meryl would take back her Oscar with that kind of shoddy performance.
It was so bad that even Clark noticed and he never caught anything. “Wait. Now I know something's wrong. The only person who says ‘hunkey-dorey’ is my father.”
Clark had no idea what was really keeping her from being “hunkey-dorey”. He wasn’t the type to understand anyway. No one was. Wendy hadn’t and she was the most open-minded person Chloe had ever met, besides herself. Lex, here and now in the present certainly wouldn’t. He wanted logic and science behind everything. He needed things to be real and grounded, which explained his obvious interest in the enigma that was Clark. Not to mention Lex avoided her here in Smallville. He didn’t really know her and he didn’t seem to particularly like her. Tolerate was a better word. It was almost as painful as watching him blissful with someone else. But if anyone deserved happiness, it was Lex. And he obviously wasn’t open to having it with her. How could you love someone you ignored and shunned?
Not to mention, Lex was a different person now. Cold and calculating. If her Xan still lived inside the shrewd businessman, he was chained up and walled in alive like Fortunato in Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado.” She decided, as she watched him across the reception that she wouldn’t tell him. He’d thought her dead for years. He had moved on, several times if there was even an inkling of truth behind the news. She would be able to cope. She’d get on with her life. She’d damn well have to.
“Ok, Clark, I... I guess I just let my feelings get the better of me.” She didn’t mention that her feelings weren’t for him, but his older, wiser, far more wounded friend. “But, you know... we made a decision and I'm perfectly fine with it.” Polygraph her about that one and she’d come up clean.
Sir Clark smiled, returning quickly to his happy state of ignorance. “Me too.”
“Great,” Chloe returned with false cheerfulness as she watched Lex and his, God grant her strength, wife make goo-goo eyes at each other. “But I still don't know how I feel about taking sex-ed from Mrs. Luthor.” Not true. She knew exactly how she felt about taking sexual education from the woman who was married to the man to whom she had given her virginity. She felt like stabbing her in the eye with a pencil on Monday, that was how she felt.
“I can't believe Lex is married.” She said, uttering the understatement of the year.
“He says he really loves her.”
Chloe knew that. She’d heard that before. From her dad, from Clark, from the other students, from Lex himself even though he hadn’t been talking to her directly. She steeled herself against the tears that had yet to fall before replying.
“Yeah, well love is rarely if ever logical.” There had been no logic between she and Lex, less for Julian and Corinne but they had burned for each other. So maybe… Maybe Lex would be happy with Desiree. If he was, Chloe would survive. Then again… “Maybe they just have the right pheromones.”
“Hm?”
“It's chemistry, Clark.” She replied, remembering the way her body had come alive under Lex’s touch when compared to the dull thud of Clark’s hugs. “Some people have it... others don't.”
She didn’t wait for him reply, but walked away quickly, her mind awash with images. Memories of whispered promises in the dark, intimate touches filled with trust, moaned names, and heartfelt ‘I love yous’, all of them compounded with the fact that she would probably never be held in those strong yet hairless arms served to show what the entire horror of a day had been leading up to.
After a few minutes of searching, she found an empty bedroom in Lex’s giant home, so that she could have her breakdown in private. She sat down gingerly on the pristine comforter and covered the sounds of her sobs with her hands.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:10:50 GMT -5
Chapter 37 –The Plot Thickens
She had never been a fan of skirts. At Hampton she had loathed the Brittney Spears-wannabe kilt she’d been forced to wear. The male students had had a habit of pushing pencils, pens, books, hell anything not attached to skin out of the girl’s hands and onto the floor to watch them bend over and retrieve them. Chloe had hated the skirts.
She hadn’t liked the knit sweater she was given to wear in lieu of a decent coat either. It was not sufficient and she was always cold. Not to mention the green had never been particularly flattering on her.
Now she wore the clothes that had traveled back with her through time like she had used to cling to a security blanket. They were what she was most comfortable in after six months of nothing else. Jeans felt too tight on her legs, a coat too heavy on her body.
She could almost pretend she was back in the dormitories some days. Usually it was simply a small comfort while she finished homework, studied ahead to where she had left off in Boston, or the worked on the paper.
But she never wore them outside the house. Her father might be oblivious as to what she was wearing, but not everyone was as oblivious. Her friends might ask her where it came from, not Clark certainly, but Pete and Lana might. Lex wandered around town like a stray dog and she wouldn’t take the risk.
Then one day, she slipped up. It had been a simple mistake. She’d put in a ridiculously late night at the Torch. Tired, her caffeine high fading, she’d managed to crawl into bed sometime after four. Her alarm clock didn’t go off since she’d set it to p.m. instead of a.m. by mistake giving her less than three hours sleep and making her late, terribly late.
Still partially asleep, she grabbed the first articles of clothing her feet met when they touched the floor and pulled them on. Sufficiently clothed, she rushed down stairs, calling a quick goodbye to her father, and out to her car.
Chloe didn’t even realize the situation until the day was nearly over. Turning to talk to Lana, she spotted herself in the mirrors outside one of the restrooms. Her skin looked a little sickly due to the green color.
She glanced down at her arms and suppressed a mild panic attack. She had nothing on under the Hampton sweater and nothing to change into. Worse, she was meeting her father at the plant directly after school today. The plant Lex Luthor owned.
“Well, shit.” Chloe muttered.
“What was that?” Lana asked, looking puzzled.
“Nothing.” Chloe said. “It’s nothing.” And it was nothing. Everything would be fine. Lex did most of his work from home. Hell, he probably wouldn’t go by the plant at all today.
~*~*~
“Gabe do you have those reports I asked for?” Lex asked as he entered his employee’s office. Except Gabe wasn’t there. Instead, seated at his desk, playing solitaire on his computer was his own personal ghost.
“Sorry,” his ghost said with a smile, “He had to run down to the first floor to talk to accounting.”
Gorgeous, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her blue eyes were radiant and she looked unbelievably sexy in that simple outfit of a sweater and jeans. She was so beautiful, she was nearly toxic.
Lex stared at her for a moment, noticing the emblem, where a chest pocket would have been, when he perused her ample breasts. It caught his attention more startlingly than her figure. A coat of arms and the name of a school in blue calligraphy. It was impossible, utterly, completely, and totally impossible for her to have a Hampton sweater on her body.
It was like relieving his memories. Casual and comfortable, she was a vision out of his past, one that produced a painful tightness in his chest. As she was now, he could almost let himself believe that he was back at school and had walked into his love’s dorm room, not his employee’s office. But his Chloe was dead, her body smashed on the ground beside the dormitories of Hampton Prep.
What he saw now as not reality. It was a trick. The vision before him was nothing more than a cruel manipulation at the hands of his father or one of his other enemies, a violent rape of his memories playing out before him. It had to be. There was no other explanation.
But he kept his cool. He was an expert at that, save that one incident with the meter maid’s car and the golf club. But this was more important than parking ticket vengeance.
“That’s all right, I’ll catch him before he leaves,” he replied coolly. He raked his eyes over her body, obviously this time, letting her know what he was doing, making her fidget slightly. “I like your sweater. Where’d you get it?”
He saw a deer-in-the-headlights expression flash quickly across her pretty face and inwardly smirked. He knew now. He could no longer convince himself that her presence was just a coincidence, a cosmic joke where he was the punch line. Now, she was a plant, no doubt sent to throw him off balance.
“My cousin graduated from this school.” She lied smoothly. “She sent it to me when she out grew it.”
“Hm.” Lex studied her, growing more angry with every passing second. He was angry at her for daring to take on Chloe’s face, angry at Gabe for daring to lie to him, at his father who was no doubt behind this. “Well it suits you,” he said with an even voice.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice trembling. He could hear it across the room, further cementing his conclusion.
“You’re very welcome,” Lex returned icily.
He knew what he was looking for now. And he would be damned if he would let this little girl continue her charade.
~*~*~
Chloe sat shaking in her father’s chair, staring at the door Lex had just closed behind him. That had been so very bad. It was bad on multiple levels, levels that piled upon each other to make a mountain of not good.
She sighed and sank down into the black cushions. This had been very large mistake on her part.
Why couldn’t she have just gone home and changed? It wouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes. She wouldn’t have been more than thirty minutes late, tops.
But oh no. She’d *had* to take risks. And look what it had done.
God, the look on his face had killed her. His expression had gone from awe and pain, to fear and pain, to anger and pain, to betrayal and pain. It had been like watching something beautiful wither before her eyes.
She’d known he was lost before now. She’d known he was beyond her reach since his failed marriage to Desiree Atkins but the ice in his voice, the fury in his eyes had cemented it.
Her Xan was gone with the wind. She highly doubted she’d ever see him again. And that broke her heart. She lifted her hand to the pendant she still wore around her neck, the weight between her breasts reassuring.
She was going to have to get her shit together now. Lex was suspicious of her, and if she had learned anything it was that Lex’s suspicion was a near living force. She’d watched it tear at Clark with a ferocity that was shocking and now it was trained on her.
Chloe wondered for a moment if maybe this wasn’t such a terrible thing. After all, Lex had loved her once. She was convinced by his reaction that he still loved her, or at least the girl Lex thought had died on that cold afternoon in February nearly five years before.
But he would never believe that she was the same person. From here on out, she was the enemy to him. She was a danger to be observed at a safe distance and an enigma to be researched and solved.
Chloe shook her head. Things were a royal mess, all because of a stupid careless mistake.
She lifted her hands and massaged her temples. Lack of sleep from the night before and the stress of that disastrous encounter had produced a throbbing headache to add to her laundry list of problems.
How she wished that she could have enjoyed the recognition in Lex’s eyes when he’d seen her, instead of worrying about the wariness that had followed it so very quickly. She knew that he’d remembered the many times she’d worn the same or similar outfit during their long weekend or after class meetings. She thought of the way he’d liked to slip his hands under the fabric and let his palms rest against her stomach or lower back.
She let out a slow exhale, banishing thoughts that did nothing to help lift her spirits. She could handle this. All the information Lex was bound to dig up would lead to nothing. As long as she didn’t fuck up again, things would be fine.
That is if living her life without him could ever be considered fine.
~*~*~
Lex did not throw the computer off his desk, as much as he would like to. Damaging another plasma screen would do nothing to expedite the situation, and it would be a bitch to clean up. So he contented himself with glowering at the monitor.
Thus far, everything checked out. Every little fucking thing that had popped into his brilliant mind had come up as a dud.
Her birth certificate, signed by doctors at Metropolis Sacred Heart hospital, was a matter of public record. She was born in mid-October, 1985, making her seventeen as of a few weeks ago, and about four and a half years younger than his Chloe would have been if she were alive now.
Her parents were listed as Meredith O’Reilly Sullivan (deceased) and Gabriel Sullivan, which corresponded to her school records perfectly. The birth dates lined up. Hell, the registered blood type matched up with her last donation to the Smallville Blood Bank.
There had to be a falsity in there somewhere. He hadn’t particularly wanted to call in an investigator but as he looked through pictures of the doppelganger at younger ages, smiling with Gabe in most of them and a beautiful blonde woman in a few, he became more convinced he would have to call in outside help.
Which naturally meant that his father would soon find out and demand an explanation. That would of course, complicate things even further since he was fairly sure the old bastard was behind the whole thing.
Lex steepeled his fingers, thinking. The private investigator option was out. Too risky. The distanced approach was obviously not going to work either. He was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
He made her nervous, that much was obvious. And when people were nervous, they slipped up. It was human nature. All he had to do was dog her until she failed to keep her cover. And when she did…well, Luthors were known for many things and mercy was not one of them.
It meant getting his hands dirty, but for this Lex was not above involvement. His father had gone too far with this tactic and he was going to get his vengeance this time, goddamnit. Twice over, once for taking Chloe from him in the first place and once for throwing a fake in his face as a form of torture.
He glanced back at his monitor, at the pixie face smiling at him from the screen. The resemblance unnerved him even now.
He clicked out of the image and ran another check, this time on her bank statements. There was absolutely nothing unusual, in either hers or her father’s. No large sums of money beyond Gabe’s paycheck, no extravagant withdrawals, nothing.
He sighed. This was not going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination. But if he could get proof of her deception, of his father’s, then it would be worth it.
~*~*~
She did not set the sweater on fire. She did not cut the skirt into little pieces. And she did not take off the pendant Lex had given her for Christmas.
She had considered all of the following and come to the conclusion that as much as she needed to cut ties to the past for her own safety, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t bear to let go of the few things she had to remind her of her trip and his love.
So instead she tucked the clothes in the back of her closet, safely next to her baby blanket and one of her mother’s favorite dresses. The pendant, on the other hand was trickier. But she quickly figured out a solution. The gold chain that held it disappeared into her jewelry box for safekeeping and was replaced with a length of transparent fishing line. Strong and heavy, it nearly disappeared against her skin.
She convinced herself that those things were enough. She had to. Because they were all she was willing to do.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:26:12 GMT -5
Chapter 38 - Insurgence
Lex pressed his fingertips together and fought for his cool.
“I was under the impression that the deal had closed.” He ground out through a thin veil of control. It was after midnight and only recently had he been able to get a hold of his panicked lawyer to deal with the situation at hand.
“Mr. Luthor,” His lawyer said, looking about ready to shit himself, “I'm sorry.”
“I don't want ‘I'm sorry.’ I want to know how the hell my father beat me out of a 150-million dollar contract that you assured me was a done deal!” He snapped, his tight grip on his fury slipping away.
“The only way they would have known the exact dollar amount was if they had inside information.” His lawyer said, stating the painfully obvious.
“And since you and I were the only ones who knew about it, and I certainly didn't tell my father, that leaves you in a very uncomfortable position.” He growled.
“If I no longer have your confidence, I'll tender my resignation in the morning.” The man said sheepishly, fear permeating his every word.
Lex rose from behind his desk and walked furiously over to his lawyer. The man was practically shaking.
“My father would want more than your resignation. He'd hobble you at the knees and do everything in his power to insure you'd never work in the corporate world again.” His words were sharp with an obvious threat ringing through to his terrified employee. So much so that the man swallowed visibly before he turned to leave.
“But I'm not my father,” he said, his voice far more level this time. No, he wasn’t his father and he wouldn’t stoop to the old man’s level. “All I want to know is how he found out. And how I can stop it from ever happening again.”
The man didn’t answer. Instead he made a wise and hasty retreat from the office as fast as his greasy, little legs could take him.
Lex watched him go, frustrated and wrung out. He turned and leaned against the solid glass of his desktop. He hadn’t been this angry in…huh, weeks.
He glanced down at the desk and saw his father, looking smug as ever staring up at him from the cover of a magazine. His anger got the better of him as he threw both the magazine and the contents of his desk, computer included, onto the floor.
Goddamn it. He walked over to the mess his lack of control had created and sighed. Once again his emotions had gotten the better of him. No. That was something his father would say. And it wasn’t all of his emotions. It was just his rage.
He squatted low to look at the wreckage. The monitor was ruined but it had been yanked free of the pc so nothing valuable had been lost. The vase he kept next to it was shattered, the tiny flower bud it had held lay underneath one of the computer screen’s plastic panel sides. He tossed the destroyed plastic aside and lifted the flower up.
He stared at it for a moment before he realized what he was looking at. A tiny wire poked up from within the petals. With hands that were steadier than they had any right to be he lifted the tiny wireless microphone out of the plant.
Fuck control, he thought as he wrapped his palm around the bug his father had so obviously had planted. Now was the time for wrath. And damn it, he had that in spades.
~*~*~
The pounding sounds of Metallica flooded over him as he tore into the library floor of his office. He yanked books off the shelves, shaking them as he flung them to the floor. He pulled apart every piece of furniture he came into contact with, the pounding bass washing through him, feeding into his vengeance.
His hatred for the old man seethed as he ripped open a cushion from one of the library’s chairs with his bare hands. He grabbed the table and threw it off the balcony and on to the level below. It landed with a satisfying crash. He imagined for a moment that it was his father’s body instead of a dead piece of wood.
Millions of dollars of his own property came were torn apart in his ruthless hunt. Once he was through scouring the upper level, finding one camera lodged between a second edition of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and Kafka’s The Trial, he began his ravaging of the downstairs.
The bastard had defiled everything of any value to Lex. His childhood, Lex thought as he destroyed another sofa. He’d ruined his mother, Lex thought through the rage as he pulled a metal bar loose from some of the wreckage. He’d destroyed Julian when the boy had needed the old man most. The image of his father’s disinterest was accompanied by a stab of the metal bar through the purple felt covering of his prized pool table.
The son of a bitch had killed the only woman Lex had ever and would ever loved and was using her ghost to make him weak. He fumed over that one as he slid underneath it. Adrenaline powered him as he tore into the thin underside with the bar and his own fists and feet. Without too much work, it gave way, releasing colored balls which hit his body before rolling across the floor. He felt around inside until his hands hit pay dirt, another sound recorder.
He threw it on his desk with the rest of the bugs he’d found. Every new plant he found increased his frenzy. Every thing he was forced to destroy to free him of the surveillance compounded his anger.
The whole thing added insult to injury by invading not only his private business dealings but his private life. No doubt the man now knew he was onto his pseudo-Chloe and would send someone or something to take care of that problem as well.
“Damn it!” He cursed, hurling his metal tool at a far wall. It clattered into one of the shelves, sending artifacts and books flying. A tiny lens blinked at him from behind the new mess, pushing him forward anew.
He wasn’t aware of time passing and when he heard Clark’s voice, he was shocked to discover it was morning.
“Lex, what's going on?”
Lex placed a finger to his lips as he looked up from the painting he was destroying. Poor Clark looked so befuddled. Not that that was anything unusual.
Lex crossed the room to his stereo. He turned up Metallica’s “The Frayed Ends of Sanity” to an earsplitting volume. “Big Brother is listening, or should I say ‘Big Daddy’?” He said sardonically, pointing towards the devices he had dug out of his office. “These are just what I found so far."
He picked one up and held it out to Clark. “State of the art in high-tech surveillance. I'm going to have to bring in a team of experts to sweep the rest of the mansion.”
“What are you saying, your dad's spying on you?” Clark asked, startled and confused.
“I had the inside track on a multi-million dollar contract.” Lex said with more cool that he had possessed in the last six hours. “At the last minute, LuthorCorp manages to underbid me. You do the math.”
“Lex, you’ve got to calm down...,” Clark said, trying his best to mediate.
No doubt his young friend had seen the open bottle of brandy when he’d come in, Lex thought as he stormed toward the door Clark had just entered through; Of course it would be so typical of him, of everyone, to just brush off his concerns by assuming he was drunk. Well damn it he’d had enough of it.
“Don't tell me to calm down, Clark! How would you feel if someone were listening to every private word you uttered, learning all your secrets?”
Lex watched his eyes grow wide and knew he’d struck a nerve. After all, what was more important to Clark Kent than his secrets?
“Lex,” he said, sounding truly concerned now, “These devices could be anywhere. They could be in the sofa cushions or the heating vents.”
Lex shook his head as he waded through the rubble of his study. “I already checked.”
“What about your stereo?”
Lex walked and stared at the small but powerful stereo system that had kept him company through his descent into destruction. It had been running nonstop for the last several hours. And it was one of the only places he hadn’t checked.
“Fighting the fear of fear. Growing conspiracy. Everyone's after me. Frayed ends of sanity,” the lead singer screamed at him as he lifted his trusty metal bar and brought it crashing down on the front of the stereo. The player came to a grinding halt and Lex was able to pick the pieces of yet another bug out of the remains.
~*~*~
The whole bugging operation had been one spectacular disaster. Lex hadn’t really expected a simple thing like planting a few recording devices to turn into the hostage situation it had become. He should have learned his lesson, really. Two wrongs did not make a right. Of course, before things had gone down in flames and a fucking hostage situation had developed, Lex had been almost enjoying himself.
As much as he hated to admit it, he rather liked corporate espionage. There was something about the thrill of the planning and execution that appealed to him. Lex realized belatedly that it would probably please his father to know that sort of thing.
Honestly, though, he didn’t care. He refused to focus directly on his father right then. Because at the moment, he was staring at a the front doors of Smallville High School which at present housed Chloe Sullivan, editor-in-chief of the Smallville Torch and trying to figure out if she knew anything about the disaster at Luthor Towers.
He took a deep breath before getting out of his car. With every step he took, he could feel his confidence oozing back into him.
The girl in that massive concrete building was not his Chloe. She was a hateful ploy and nothing more. As long as he could keep that in mind, keeping his cool and staying under control was a piece of cake. After all, this was nothing but basic damage control.
He found her where he expected to, in the Torch Office. Music of some sort, fluid and haunting rock, was turned up on a small jukebox. She was facing away from him, leaning over a desk arranging pieces of paper on a table.
“Doing anything interesting?”
“Shit!” She yelped and jumped. Papers went flying and she spun to face him. Her anger brought fire into her eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on a person like that? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been working on that layout? Hours!”
“I’m sorry,” Lex said, mildly amused by her anger.
She deflated quickly as he looked at her. “It’s ok,” she sighed. “Can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you were planning on publishing anything about the hostage situation in your next issue of the paper.”
“Why?” Chloe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
He was so…coolly detached. She ached as she looked at him, so different from the man she had loved, who had loved her. Gone were the band t-shirts and comfortable sneakers on his feet. Instead he was clad in silk shirts and Italian leather shoes. His entire aura was one of togetherness and adulthood. She felt so damn young around him now.
“My father was involved and I want to see to it that he’s not incorrectly depicted in any article you happened to write.”
“Why do you care what I write about him? It’s not as if you like the man. And he’s been nothing but an asshole to you, anyway.”
Oh crap.
Lex blinked at her. His expression was a mixture of shock and anger. “How would you know anything about my familial life, Miss Sullivan,” he ground out. “My relationship with my father, like everything else in my life, is my business. Not yours. And you would do well to keep out of this.”
Chloe was mentally kicking the living tar out of herself for being so freaking stupid. She knew better than this but when he was around, looking practically edible and so painfully familiar even with such a different demeanor, it was just too easy to slip up.
“I-“she swallowed quickly trying to hide her reaction. “It’s obvious that he’s a jerk. And for your information, I didn’t have time to write an article about the siege before this weeks paper went to bed anyway so it’s a moot point.”
She regained her composure and was able return his fury with a glare of her own. She transmuted frustration and pain into righteous anger, something she’d learned all to well from the man in font of her.
“And anyway, you wouldn’t be able to say a damn thing if I did decide to write an editorial on why I and the rest of Smallville think your father is a magnificent bastard. Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do, excuse me, re-do thanks to you. So please, feel free to leave.”
He could almost believe in that moment that the woman before him was really who he wished she was. She had the spark, the passion, which had been so characteristic of his Chloe.
He wished he could believe; wished it were possible. God he missed her so much he could almost feel himself breaking from the pain.
“Forgive my intrusion then,” he said coolly.
His posture and voice revealed nothing. Despite that, nothing covered the hurt she could see in those icy blue eyes she loved so much.
She almost slipped again. She almost begged him not leave as he turned to go. She nearly threw herself at him, crying and babbling about how much she still loved him, would always love him. But before she could give into to the urge, he was gone. She thought she could hear the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway back to her over the pulse of the music that filled the office.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:27:48 GMT -5
Chapter 39 - Rush
She often wondered why no one besides herself ever noticed the fact that they lived in the Sunnydale of the Midwest. She wondered more when strange things happened. Things like her meek little chemistry partner doing something completely out of the blue like throwing himself to his death just for a thrill.
Sure the school was abuzz with Travis’s death. But teenagers dropped like flies around here. In a week or two, she doubted anyone would even remember his name.
Today had been a little strange as well. Lana and Clark were back at their on-again off-again dating-but-not-really bullshit which Chloe had mistakenly believed was well and done with before her temporal experience. Not that that was anything new, but that Clark had suddenly regained his balls and backbone was a little surprising.
Far more notable was that Pete had been missing most of the day. Pete Ross was not one to skip school. Not to mention, when she’d asked him for help earlier he’d been a complete and total asshole. The sheer bizarreness of Pete’s behavior was the reason Clark was standing in her office now, playing to role of the concerned guy.
“Hey, Chloe. Have you seen Pete today? I think he skipped school.”
“Well, I asked him to help me with the memorial issue, but he totally blew me off. Why?” she asked, reasonably
“He's just acting strange. I think Travis's death really got to him.” Clark said, his face more puzzled than sad.
“Pete did try and save him, but he just couldn't get there in time. Maybe, you know, he feels guilty.” Chloe suggested, the very voice of reason.
“He definitely isn't acting that way.” Clark replied. Ah, gotta love that negativity.
“Different people deal with grief in different ways. So, any big plans for the weekend?”
Clark shrugged. Chloe sighed and turned back to her files. The boy was living in denial, and not the river in Egypt. But she wasn’t one to talk. She still couldn’t confront Lex so she didn’t push the subject further.
“Do you know if they found any drugs in Travis's system?”
Chloe felt the urge to tell him to go to the frigging coroner’s office and ask for himself. She was getting more than a little tired of being treated like his personal Google. But instead she said, “The autopsy report was inconclusive, but they did find a small puncture wound in the back of his neck and his adrenal gland was unusually enlarged.”
“Adrenaline does give you a rush. Maybe that's why he jumped.” “Yeah, but he wasn't the only one. Two other kids at the rave, one from Grandville, the other one from Smallville Community College, they both turned up dead. One took a swan dive into an empty pool and the other one wrapped his Corolla around a tree. Same puncture wounds, same enlarged adrenal gland and same extreme behavior.” She told him. Once she was in fact-sharing mode it was rather hard for her to stop until she ran out of information
“It's like they all had a death wish. What do the police think?” he asked, trusting and reliant.
“Somebody may have been sticking them with a new designer drug.” Chloe blinked and suddenly put two and two together to get four. Why hadn’t it occurred to her earlier? “You think they got Pete? “
“I don't know. But I know I need to get him to a doctor. I'll see you later,” he said before darting out of the Torch office.
Chloe shook her head as he left. “Yeah, you’re welcome. Don't worry about it. It was nothing, really," she muttered sarcastically. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time he, or anyone for that matter, had thanked her for all the work she did for them.
She wanted to go home where she was appreciated. But going back to her dad’s still didn’t feel like home. Home was over a thousand miles away and 5 years in the past.
She gave herself a mental shake. There was no point dwelling on what was gone. She had a memorial to get finished.
~*~*~
Chloe tried to remind herself why she had agreed to go with Clark to the caves but for the life of her, she could not think of the reason. So she told herself she was tracking a story as she surveyed the strangely painted walls.
“Whatever happened to Pete started in this cave,” Clark told her.
That was all well and good, Chloe thought, but if Pete was riding high on an unknown designer drug then he needed to be in a hospital. And medical attention was far more important than rummaging around in a wet cavern.
“Well, have you gotten him to a doctor yet, or is he as needle-phobic as you are?”
“I haven't been able to find him. My dad called the Rosses. They haven't seen him all day,” Clark said, sounding just this side of desperate. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so worried.
Chloe decided not to press him so she changed the subject. “So what exactly are we looking for?”
“I don't know. A certain reporter friend of mine always said to explore all options.”
“In that case, I'll look over here,” she replied with a smile. It was nice to know he actually did listen to her sometimes.
“Okay. I'll check out the other chamber.”
Chloe walked up to one of the painted walls. She raised her camera to snap a picture and through the viewfinder she noticed a deep crack around one of the crude paintings. Carefully, she reached in to feel what was back there but recoiled quickly as her hand hit something cold and slimy. Of course, it was the reporter in her that spurred her to do the unbelievably foolish act of leaning closer to look inside.
“Hey!”
Chloe spun around quickly to face the owner of the voice. It was a weasel little man with dark hair and beady eyes.
“This cave is off-limits. Why don't you find somewhere else to make out?”
As he spoke Chloe felt something prick her in the back of the neck. She gave a small, involuntary gasp.
“You all right?” the man asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” She was feeling a little light headed and she pulled off her jacket, revealing a red tank top underneath.
As she did so, she decided that she really didn’t like the way that man had addressed her. Clearly, the little weasel person was an asshole and should be treated as such. “As for your snide remark, people haven't made out in this cave since the 20th century. Now back off.”
Her eyes rolled to Clark who had suddenly reappeared. And for a moment she was a little distracted by the way his jeans clung to his groin. She wondered if he and Lex tasted different or if all men were the same to the taste buds.
But Clark was effectively ignoring her, as per usual so she shrugged and went back to examining the cave. There was a ledge about ten feet up that was just begging for her to climb it. Who was she to resist?
“Hey, you're Frederick Walden, the linguist. You wrote that book.”
“I've written many books,” Fredrick, aka the Weasel Man, replied. Chloe watched from her spot on the ledge.
“Did Lex Luthor hire you?” Clark asked.
And speak of the devil, bald, hot, and wrapped in purple arrived just in time to answer. God, she loved the way those pants made him look. Absolutely fuckable.
“Thanks to you, Clark. I'm counting on Professor Walden to translate these pictographs for us. It'll help the preservation effort.”
God, his voice was enough to make her come all by itself. She had gone without a good orgasm for far too long. She’d have to do something about that.
“Hey, rule one-- no guided tours,” Weasel Man practically whined.
“They're friends of mine, Professor, and I didn't realize you'd accepted my offer.”
“I have, but we do things on my terms, and I don't allow anybody except for my staff on a work site.”
He was a pompous, arrogant asshole who no doubt had a needle dick and needed to compensate by being a dickhead. The fucker needed to be brought down a peg. She smirked at the thought.
“With all due respect, Professor, I was the one who found the caves.”
That’s it, she thought; be a man, Clark. Stop letting them push you around, you walking, talking pussy.
“I don't care if you discovered the Shroud of Turin, kid.” Weasel Man turned to Lex. “If you're unhappy with my method, I can take the first flight to Chile.”
“I'm sorry, Clark,” Lex said.
Chloe knew for a fact that he was lying. He was a great liar. And a great layer. God she was really fucking horny.
“Lex, you can't do this.”
That tone of voice only worked on Lex during sex. She knew that from experience. Clark didn’t stand a chance in hell.
“The man's one of the most renowned linguists in the world. If that's the way he works, we have to respect that.”
The man they were supposed to respect had finally noticed her. And he was not happy. But Weasel Man didn't seem like the type who was ever very happy. "Hey! You get down from there!”
“Come on, Chloe, let's go.”
Well, since he asked so nicely. She walked down from her perch, smirking at the three men.
“What are you smiling at?” Fredrick the Weasel Man demanded before grabbing her camera. “I want those photographs.”
“Take your own.” Chloe snapped, pushing him away.
“I'm serious, young lady.”
“You're the cunning linguist,” Chloe purred, ignoring Lex and Clark completely. “Why don't you translate this? Kiss... my... ass.”
She smirked before sauntering away. She had seen a muscle in Lex’s jaw actually tick and Clark looked utterly flabbergasted. Good. She liked it that way. They were both better looking when surprised.
And she had loads of surprises in store for them.
~*~*~
She felt great. Better than she had in months, years, hell her whole life. She’d stayed up all night the night before, roaming around Smallville, looking for something to do.
The real thrills had been right at home in her very own beloved Smallville High. She didn’t know his name, nor did she particularly care what it was.
She’d found him in one of the hallways after classes, roaming around like a lost puppy. A lost puppy who either had a sock in his pants or he was happy to see her. So she’d pulled him into the Torch and proceeded to secure some momentary relief from the itch she’d been seeking to scratch.
She didn't fuck him, but she didn't need to. Some grinding and saliva exchange and she was good to go for the next couple of hours. Of course, Clark would have to walk in just as she and Nameless-Guy were wrapping it up.
“Hey, Chloe, I need the-“
Poor farm boy. Stunned into silence. She pulled away from Nameless-Guy.
“Don't worry, Clark. We're done.”
“Can I get your number?” Nameless-Guy asked. He was still hard and practically drooling.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Why? The thrill is gone.”
And with that he was out of her mental spectrum. After a few moments she forgot what his face looked like.
“Who was that?”
“I don't know. I met him in the hall, thought he was cute, and asked him if he wanted to do some investigative reporting.” She smirked. What the fuck did he care? Her sex life was her business.
“Chloe, what's going on? Are you okay?” Clark asked, all concerned. Cue the deer-in-the-headlights expression on three.
One.
“Oh, Clark, don't tell me you're jealous. I thought you only had eyes for Lana.” she cooed.
Two.
“Oh, I heard about your date. But of course it's not like you have the guts to tell me.” You fucking pussy.
And three. There were those big doe-like eyes.
“Is that what this is about?”
“Don't flatter yourself, Clark,” She replied dryly, amazed by his self-centeredness. “I just want to explore my options, take a risk. So what can I do for you?”
She grabbed a cherry sucker out of one of the many drawers in her desk. She put it in her mouth and worked it between her lips, pretending for a moment she was back in Hampton, sucking Lex’s brain out through his cock on the floor of her dorm room. Mhm.
Clark actually flinched. Jackpot. But he spoke anyway.
“Remember you said there was this weird hole in the back of Travis's neck? I was wondering if it could be from some kind of parasite.”
“What orifice did you pull that one from?” Chloe shot at him before going back to sit on the couch.
“That's kind of harsh, isn't it?”
“Come on, Clark. It's not like you hit the mute button on your scepticism when I take a logic leap.”
“It's just a hunch. Travis's adrenal gland was abnormal. Maybe the parasite was feeding off his adrenaline, making him want more and more.”
“Hey, Sherlock, don't you think they would've found the parasite during the autopsy?”
“Not if it burrowed out of that hole after he died.”
“All right, so what do you need me for?”
“I can't get within 50 feet of Pete. I figured you could talk to him.”
She stared at him stonily, fighting the urge to lick her lips again. She was waiting for him to say the P word. No, not that one. Although if he did offer to eat her out she’d probably accept. She was waiting for the magic word of every American’s youth. Please.
It never came. What did was a whole, misguided spiel. Captain Oblivious strikes again.
“Chloe, I'm sorry that you're angry with me about this date. I thought we knew where we stood with each other. But right now the only thing I can think about is Pete.”
It was so cute. And with the sincerity of concern, a sort of concern she had only seen him extend towards Lex and Whitney before now, she was becoming relatively sure that her dear friend Clark was just this side of being a queer. Which meant that, if she offered to take both him and Lex at the same time, Farmboy McVirgin might just agree. The thought made her smile wickedly.
“Sure, Clark. I'll do it for you.”
“Just get him to your house. I'll see you there.” he said relieved.
No ‘thank you’, no ‘please’ she noticed again. So of course, she was now obligated to fuck with his curly head.
“It's a date,” she purred. She took a seductive pull on the sucker one last time as he glanced at her then licked her lips and smiled at him as he left.
Men were so easy.
~*~*~
Finding Pete had been a piece of cake. The two of them were of like minds lately. Both of them wanted to ride the rush and only one thing stood in their way. Clark.
Pete had something planned. He hadn’t told her the specifics but she trusted him and whatever it was, it was going to be one hell of a doozy.
They found Clark exactly where they had expected to, in the Talon playing out the same bullshit soap opera with Lana that had been going on for the last two years.
“Hey, lovebirds. Look who I found.”
“Chloe, we were supposed to meet at your house. “
Again with the lack of manners. Thank you was the correct response to someone who did what you asked.
She smirked and seated herself out of the way to watch the show. She’d always been a fan of fireworks.
“Pete, how are you feeling?” Lana mewled. It amazed Chloe that the girl knew how to form a single declarative sentence.
“Awesome, never felt better in my life.”
“Huh. Clark made it sound like you were on your death bed,” She said, looking at Clark. Betrayal was obvious in her eyes.
Welcome to the club Lana, Chloe thought. We’re making t-shirts. You’re a small right?
“And you believed him? Haven't you learned by now? That's just Clark being Clark,” Pete replied.
She and Pete both cracked up at that. How anyone was able to believe a single fucking word out of Clark's mouth was unbelievable. He lied like the biblical serpent for God's sake.
“I guess not,” Lana muttered softly.
“Ouch,” Pete said, smirking at Clark.
It had been enough, because finally the pink princess was gone, no doubt escaping to the back of the Talon to mope. Chloe couldn't find even a lick of sympathy.
“Pete, I need to get you help,” Clark said placating.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Clark, I know you’re worried about me. You're my boy. You always have been. But I figured it out. In your world green means stop. And red-” Pete seemed to be ready to burst into maniacally laughter at any moment. He placed a small red rock into Clark’s shirt pocket. “Red means go.”
Chloe felt like crowing as a slow, sinister smile crept across Clark’s soft lips. That was more like it.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:29:17 GMT -5
~*~*~
“We're gonna have some fun now! Where are your parents?” Pete asked as they exploded into Clark’s barn.
“Out looking for you.”
“So what's the plan?” Chloe asked as they climbed the stairs up to the loft.
“I don't know. I was thinking maybe we'd go down to Saunders Gorge and jump the quarry. If we miss, Clark can catch us,” Pete said, a manic grin on his face.
“Let's do it,” Clark agreed, obviously thrilled at the idea.
Chloe might have been looking for a good time but plunging to her death was not on her list of things to do. “Yeah, right.”
“I'm serious,” Clark replied, completely deadpan.
She looked at him. Puzzled. Unless, this all tied into the unending stream of lies that constantly poured from Clark’s mouth. The reason he was so closed off and anal retentive about himself. In which case, bring on the truth motherfuckers. Because it was about time she had it.
“Can we tell her?”
“I'm surprised she hasn't figured it out already,” Clark said with a wry chuckle.
“Figured out what?” Chloe demanded, starting to get more than a little pissed off at the way they were talking about her as if she wasn’t standing right there in fucking front of them.
Clark picked up a baseball bat and handed it to the black teen. “Hey, Pete. Do the honors?”
“With pleasure.”
She watched with a mixture of horror and morbid curiosity as Pete took the bat and slammed it into the back of Clark's head. She was awed when it shattered into splinters on impact.
“Whoa!”
“Gets better. Clark, uh, it's a little dark in here.”
She watched as his stare caused a lantern hanging in the barn to be lit.
“How did you—“
“Do that?” Clark asked appearing behind her.
“What are you?” She spun around to stare up at him.
“Let's just say I'm not from around here.”
“You knew about this?” Chloe demanded of Pete. She was torn halfway between giddy excitement of knowing an honest-to-God alien/extraterrestrial and anger at being kept in the dark.
“He's my brother... from another planet.”
“You should see the look on your face right now,” Clark said and smiled.
Chloe’s anger quickly dissipated at the thought of all the things Clark could probably do. She glanced between her two best friends. “Oh my God. This is so cool.” She grinned widely as an idea entered her mind. “Can you fly?
Pete laughed aloud but Clark looked mildly insulted.
“Whoa, wait a minute. I may be an alien, but I'm not a cartoon.”
She bet he’d make a great cartoon. He’d make a better animated Japanese porn character.
With a bit of effort she pushed thoughts of alien sex out of her mind to explore the possibilities that now stood before her. “So if I fall...,” she asked as she climbed up on a railing of the loft. “Would you catch me?
Clark gave her a nod. “Go for it.”
Embracing the thrill, Chloe let herself fall off the edge of the railing. It was over in less than a second but the rush on the way into Clark’s arms was exhilarating.
“My own personal superhero.” She grinned, enjoying his unusually strong grip. “I always knew there was something special about you, Clark Kent.”
He was mere inches from kissing her when Lex arrived. Time was, after all, everything.
“I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” Lex said coolly.
“You are.” Clark practically snarled as he set her down.
Chloe was distracted from Clark by Lex’s presence. The way his trench coat hung on his strong shoulders and the way that black shirt complimented his pale skin demanded her focus. As did the arrogant, defiant stance that had never been there before she left Hampton.
Fuck him, she thought angrily. Fuck him for changing on her into someone she neither recognized nor liked. Fuck him for not realizing who she was. Fuck him for breaking his promise to her and Wendy and reverting to his drug habit after she was gone. Fuck him for making love to her and leaving her without his touch for months of aching loss. Fuck him for every piece of her soul he had stolen. Fuck him for every second of pain he had ever caused her. Fuck him all the way round. And not in a good way.
Quiet fury seeped through her and she ached to give him a taste of what she had felt because of him for the past months.
“Does he know?” she asked, leaning into Clark’s touch.
Lex recognized her, she realized suddenly. But his eyes told her that in her, he saw a haunting mirage. Fine. She could use that to her advantage. Resentment permeated her as she gazed lastingly up at Clark.
“No. I only tell people who don't go around stabbing me in the back and lying to me,” Clark said on a sigh.
“Clark, can I have a word with you?” Lex asked, his tone sharp. “Alone?”
“I'm busy,” he snapped back.
“Don't even worry about it, Clark. It's cool,” Pete said as he came down from the loft. “We'll meet you in the car.”
Chloe pulled away from Clark to follow Pete out. Instead of walking past the young billionaire, she sauntered up to him, her hips swaying provocatively. Her shirt was low cut and gave him an ample view of the valley between her breasts. Breasts he had once spent over an hour focusing his complete attention on. Breasts Clark would hopefully be fondling within the next few minutes.
“You know, I always wondered. For a boy who has all the money in the world…” She paused to blatantly look him up and down, all the way down, slowly with a hot gaze. “You'd think he could afford a good toupee.”
Chloe then pushed past him, sliding her shoulder and full breast against him as she did so. She’d hit him at his most sensitive point, the freakish bald head she had once kissed with love and reverence. She didn’t need to turn back to see him wince.
~*~*~
Lex couldn’t resist. God help him, he’d tried. But she had come so close that he could smell her shampoo, a clean sharp smell that was as unforgettable to him as the taste of her lips. He couldn’t help but glance briefly down that sinfully low-cut shirt.
He had expected the glimpse of pale, beautiful skin. He had not expected to notice a pendant, hanging on a nearly invisible string of fishing line, barely in view resting in the valley between her breasts. A diamond glinted at him from a rim of the piece.
However, before he could do more than resist the urge to flinch at her cruel words, she had pushed past him. Clark’s laughter brought him back to himself.
“What's going on, Clark? If I didn't know better, I'd say you guys were on something,” Lex asked, truly worried. Kids had been dying on designer drugs lately and he didn’t want anything to happen to Clark or his friends.
Clark walked to Lex and threw a casual arm around him and turned them both toward the door. It was not a gesture Clark had ever made before and it set Lex on edge.
“We're just having a good time. Not that it's any of your business,” Clark said as he not-so-subtly walked them both to the door. “You ever hear of a phone? I'm sick of you just barging in like you own the place. It's really-“
“I came here to tell you, Clark. I talked to Walden. He won't budge,” Lex cut in.
“He won't budge or you don't want me in the cave? Come on, don't lie to me. You're Lex Luthor. You pay a guy to do a job; he does what you tell him. Isn't that the way it always works?” Clark demanded, withdrawing not only physically but emotionally as well.
“Clark…” Lex sighed. He really had tried but Walden had given him an ultimatum. And he needed to know what those damn cave paintings meant almost as much as he wanted to know where his blonde doppelganger had come from.
“I'm gonna go into those caves whenever I damn well please. I dare you to stop me,” Clark snapped.
“Is this really about a term paper?”
“You'd love to know, wouldn't you? I'm gonna go. So are you.” Clark was practically snarling as he pushed Lex out of his way.
“I like to see you standing up for yourself, Clark, I really do. But be careful not to cross the line.”
Clark whirled to glare at him. “Is that a threat?”
Lex shook his head. This was one of the worst days he’d had in quite a few…huh, it had only been a couple of weeks since the hostage situation hadn’t it? He was tired and thrown and frustrated with the behavior he was witnessing.
“I'm just giving you a friendly piece of advice.”
“Let me give you some back,” his friend spat. “If you know what's good for you, stay the hell away from me.”
Lex watched him go join his friends to do god knew what. It was amazing how fast a day could turn sour, he thought sadly as he heard the sound of tires squealing as a car tore off outside.
~*~*~
She was going to fuck Clark Kent’s brains out right there in the middle of the fucking Talon. Lana could walk in at any moment and find her perched on top of her would-be-if-they-ever-stopped-beating-around-the-bush-for-just-five-goddamn-minutes boyfriend on one of her precious faux chic sofas.
She grinned at the feel of Clark’s hands on her. They were huge and rough, calloused from years of hard labor. The sensation was completely alien to what she was used to. Sense memories told her Lex’s hands were soft and strong from years of a life that didn’t require shoveling cow shit every few days. But both felt good.
Even through the haze of excitement and sexual tension she knew that this wouldn’t scratch the itch the way she needed it. No matter how masterfully the xeno-sapien beneath her brought her to climax, she knew she wouldn’t be able to convince herself it was exactly what she needed.
But that didn’t really matter. She was having a fucking great time and it would do just fine until she could find a way to work her way back into Lex’s pants.
Her mind wasn’t even focusing as they shared a little banter before she ripped off his shirt. She turned her attention to the expanse of smooth tanned skin that was now available to her greedy palms.
Except suddenly, fun Clark was gone. Babbling about how she didn’t know what she was doing, how it was wrong. How she had a freaking parasite. The concept that she had a bug living in her was fucking insulting.
“Well, I love the way I feel. So maybe this is exactly what I need. To spend more time actually living life and less time reporting it,” Chloe said sharply.
Then she caught hold of his face and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. When she finally let go of his lips, Lana was standing in front of them, looking ready to burst into sobs.
“L-Lana,” Clark stuttered as he realized that his dream girl was gaping at his little lip lock with her best female friend. “This is not what it looks like.”
The Asian girl made to leave but Chloe stopped her cold. “Yeah, it is, Lana. It's exactly what it looks like. Oh, and guess what? Clark told me everything. And I mean everything.”
Chloe wasn’t quite sure where that venom came from but she didn’t really care. This whole thing was getting boring. She was going to find Pete and together she was sure they’d find something to do.
~*~*~
She had lied to them all. She remembered every liberated moment she had experienced with the parasite. She had had it a significantly shorter period of time than Pete, who remembered next to nothing after all the toxins that went through him due to the parasite.
She remembered making Lana cry. She remembered the thrill at finding out her best friend was an alien, an alien for Christ’s sake! She was still having trouble getting over the fact that her friend was a little green man from Mars. Except that he was neither little, nor green, and he was most likely from somewhere farther away than Mars.
And she remembered seeing Lex and saying that hateful thing to him. In her defense, he’d driven her up the wall as far as her then-tenuous control was concerned. She hadn’t realized how much anger and hurt she had been carrying around inside her before her little brush with the wild side.
She had needed time to think. The quiet hours when visitation wasn’t allowed had been the perfect time. And in that time she’d come to several conclusions.
First being that she was never going to mention to Clark what she knew but now that her curiosity was finally eased she would stop digging about him. She knew his secret and that was enough to keep the curiosity cat from getting killed, simple as that.
Lana was even easier. Again she would feign ignorance and allow their friendship to continue. Granted, the girl would never be what Wendy and Corinne had been to her but she needed a friend who wouldn’t freak out if she needed to watch Titanic(which she had literally dragged Lex to see with her in theaters back at Hampton), eat Ben n’ Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, and have a good cry. She shouldn’t need to, but the way her emotional life had been progressing it would be better to lie and have someone to lean on than tell the truth and lose a friend.
Lex, on the other hand, was far more difficult. Now that she was being honest with herself she could see that he had been watching her freakishly closely lately, practically studying her. No doubt trying to figure out how, exactly, someone had placed a girlfriend look alike in Smallville and why.
She had seen what his digging had done to Clark and she was not about to risk that same scrutiny. There was nothing that could come of it but trouble.
The whole experience had left her more resolved than anything else. It was a slap in the face to the real world. Things were going to have to change. Clark used her and she wasn’t going to tolerate his shit anymore. Lana wasn’t that bad a person and she would need to be nicer to her if she hoped to keep the only female friend she had left. And Lex…Lex was forever beyond her reach. She needed to get over him. She needed to let go.
However, Chloe had always done her best to be honest with herself. And honestly? She knew for a fact that it was going to be far easier said than done.
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Post by Blaire on Dec 17, 2005 22:32:11 GMT -5
Chapter 40 - Regaining Orbit
She’d been more careful than ever since the disaster with the adrenaline parasites. Honestly she had. But it had been so damn long since she had worn those jeans, the ones with that dipped low on her hips and made her feel gorgeous even if she was wearing a huge baggy sweater that came midway down her thighs to hide it. She hadn’t pulled them on since before Hampton.
But Chloe’d had what she dubbed “a Lexless night” the evening before. One of those nights when she missed her friends and the life she had built so acutely that it was almost physically painful. So she’d pulled on her old attractive jeans in the morning as a pick-me-up.
She’d worn a long jacket over her shirt which she kept buttoned at the bottom. Dress code and a desire to hide her tattoo from her friends demanded it. Never the less, by the time she climbed into her Volvo she felt much better. Amazing what a little self-esteem boost could do.
Once again, she hadn’t been thinking. It was just that Lana kept the Talon so fucking hot all the time she couldn’t keep the jacket on. She’d been sweating like crazy.
And it should have been fine. No problem, just she and Lana chatting about the latest Johnny Depp movie over coffee. Well, she would be drinking coffee. Lana would be working.
It was a Sunday morning and the building was nearly empty. Pete was at church and Clark wasn’t supposed to meet up with them until around two. It should have been fine.
And for a good half hour, it had been. She had sat on one of the Talon’s high stools at the bar, talking pleasantly about shallow things that didn’t require too much thought one moment and the next Lex had sauntered into the Talon and everything was different.
He walked up to the counter and dropped off some documents for Lana. As it always did, his gaze perused her but she saw it settle south of where it normally did.
Oh. God.
Chloe was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was standing on her right hand side. She was at once hypersensitive to the sensation of slowly moving air caressing the skin of her exposed right hip. And when she managed to look at his face she saw something between agony and fury stretched on his face.
She swallowed hard and waited for him to make the first move. Which he did of course with perfect calm; at least that was the mask he showed Lana.
“Lana, would you mind if I stole Chloe from you for a few hours?” Lex asked, grabbing a deceptively firm hold of Chloe’s forearm. Chloe took the hint when he applied pressure and climbed down from her seat.
Lana bit her lower lip. “We sorta had plans with Clark.”
“I’m sure you can reschedule. I know that Chloe can. Can’t you, Chloe?” Lex asked in a falsely genial tone. Still his hand was wrapped around her arm in a vice like grip. He squeezed once more and she nodded.
“Let’s rain check this, Lana. You and Clark don’t need a third wheel anyway.”
It took Lana exactly ten seconds to give in to the suggestion. “If you’re sure.”
“She’s sure.” Lex answered for her. Not letting go of her arm, he dragged her as discreetly as he could out of the Talon.
“Get in the car.” Lex snarled, shoving her against the passenger side door of his latest sports car.
“Lex I can-“
“Shut up, and get in the car.” Lex said. Every word was clearly enunciated and his hands were clenched at his sides.
She nodded once and did as he told her. She’d never been one to obey blindly but she hadn’t seen him this angry since that Halloween night when he had nearly beat Donovan Sanders to death.
Lex slammed the door shut after she climbed in. Nervous and well aware of Lex’s driving history, she fastened her seatbelt.
He said nothing as he drove. His knuckles were white as he drove through downtown Smallville and out into the country side. His jaw was clenched and for a few horrible moments, she thought for sure he was pulling a Sopranos on her, dragging her out into nowhere to shoot her in the back of the head.
~*~*~
She sat still as a statue in the soft leather seat of Lex’s car. She didn’t move to unbuckle her seatbelt or move to open the door.
Lex climbed out. “Get out of the car,” he said, once again doing that strange enunciation thing that made him seem angrier than screaming ever could have.
Chloe felt his eyes on her. She knew if she looked at them now they would hard and cold making the blue of his irises look like ice chips.
He led her into one of the grassy fields off to the side of the road they had parked on. He pushed her in front of him.
“Take off your jeans.” He ordered, his arms crossed over his chest.
She knew she was going to have to draw the line somewhere and this was just as good a place as any.
“You can go fuck yourself if you think I’m taking off anything.”
“You have two ways to do this the easy way and the hard way as cliché as that sounds. I suggest you choose the easy way as I don’t have any great desire to take them off you by force.” He was completely cold, like something dead.
“I know what you want to see.”
“Then show me.”
She shook her head. “Lex, please don’t do this.”
“Let me see it.”
Chloe didn’t move. His gaze didn’t waver. “Now.”
With shaking hands she undid to top button on her jeans. Why was she so fucking nervous? She wasn’t even taking everything off, just pulling down the side of the fabric a little to show him her tattoo. Then why was she more nervous than the night she had lost her virginity to him?
She pulled down the right side enough to show him the comet that sailed across her skin in ink.
Before Chloe had a chance to react, Lex was on her. Grabbing her around the waist he bent slightly to study her tattoo. She felt naked as he studied the skin of her hip, as he traced the slightly raised ink with his fingertips.
Suddenly he pulled away, as if he had been burned. He stared down into her face, so close it was nearly suffocating. “How did you find out about this, about her tattoo? Who told you?”
“Lex, I didn’t find out about anything,” she said softly. Of all the times she’d dreamed about him finding out, this was never how things had played out.
“You’re lying,” he hissed through tightly clenched teeth. “You’ve stolen everything. Everything she ever was and everything I ever gave her. You have her face, her hair, her smell, her pendant,” Lex’s hand shot forward and ripped the necklace off her neck. “Even her tattoo. And I want to know why. You are going to tell me why you have been here tormenting me for the last two years, or so help me god I will make you very, very sorry.”
“Lex, please. Listen to me. I didn’t steal anything. I didn’t take anything. I promise. I-” she stopped. How did she do this?
“I am sick and tired of your little charade Miss Sullivan,” His voice was low and precise. And his hands kept twitching. It made her very nervous. “I want the truth. And I want it now.”
“You won’t like it.”
“I seldom do.”
“You’ll never believe me,” she tried again. Nearly desperate.
“Try me.”
Chloe sat, very abruptly on the cold ground. She pulled her knees up to her chest and stared fixedly at the legs of Lex’s pants. She took several deep breaths before she began to speak. But when she did speak, it all came out in a rush.
“It’s me. I’m the same person you loved in 1997. I’m not hired by anyone. Not your father, not your competitors, not some sick mutant who hates you. I’m just me, Chloe Sullivan. Only now I’m back where I belong. I went back in time to meet you Lex, and when I got pushed out that window I came home to the present. I left not long after the tornado.”
“You are a fucking liar,” Lex growled, glaring down at her. “That’s impossible.”
“No,” she whispered, “It’s not. Trust me on this one.”
“You can’t be telling the truth,” he shot back. “Time travel doesn’t exist outside of science fiction. “
“See this is why I didn’t tell you,” She said her voice trembling. “I knew you would never believe me.”
“I’m giving you one last chance to tell me the truth,” He replied, his voice still soft, his demeanor still dangerous. “You’re wearing out my patience.”
“What do you need to hear? Do you need me to tell you that I love you? Do you need me to tell you about our first time together on New Years? Do I need to call you Xan? Tell me wha-.”
“Don’t you call me that!” Lex shouted, his eyes bright with anger and pain he’d never allowed himself to let go of. His temper well and truly lost now. “Don’t you ever call me that. You’re not her, goddamn it! You can’t be her!”
Tears stung Chloe’s eyes and she rocked forward and upward to a kneeling position. She could see that, miracle of miracles; she was actually getting through those high walls he’d built around himself.
~*~*~
Lex was losing his grip on his world. He hadn’t had this poor a handle on things since before he went to rehab. But now it was as if the ground beneath him was tilted at a ninety-degree angle and he was barely hanging on. His legs were shaking as he sank to kneel on the ground to be face to face with her.
“It is me, Lex. I promise you. Ask me anything.”
Her face was hopeful and her eyes misty. She was so damn beautiful. It was far more painful than the pendant digging into his palm and drawing blood.
“I’m not going to play your game,” he hissed, sitting back on his heals. “This is a trap.”
“When did you start thinking the world is out to attack you?” she asked sadly her face soft and compassionate. She looked surprised, as if she had just realized something.
“None of your business.”
Suddenly she was smiling. He cursed himself for ten times a fool for letting his emotions slip through his defenses as they must have to have elicited such a reaction.
“You’re still in there, aren’t you Xan?”
He flinched despite himself. Whoever the imposter really was, she was amazingly skilled at her job.
“Don’t ask me anything then.” She told him. She seemed happy but the tears were still in her eyes. “I know you like to ask questions but obviously you’re not in the mood right so how about I tell you some things instead?”
Lex said nothing. He simply stared at her, his fist wrapped tightly around the necklace he had given his girlfriend on the only Christmas they had spent together.
“I know you better than anyone, Xan. I’ve seen you at your best with me and Wendy in the dorms at Hampton and at your worst while you were vomiting and near-death in an ambulance. But I loved you anyway. More importantly, I know that you loved me. So I really need you to believe in me now.”
She leaned closer, within arms length and gently touched his face. Sense memories flooded him of countless similar moments and similar touches. He shook his head away from her touch. “I can’t.”
“You took me to get that tattoo. Remember? That guy Sean did it in his apartment. You gave me that necklace on Christmas,” she said gently, catching his face again. “And you gave me your love.”
He swallowed hard as he looked into those eyes and despite the fact that everything he knew about physics and reality told him that the young woman before him wasn’t Chloe he was no longer sure. She felt right and her words sounded so true.
“This isn’t possible,” he said again, shaking his head as if to clear it.
Chloe snorted. “I’d like to remind you that you married a woman who emitted mutant pheromones, met a kid with telepathy, and live in a town where boys turn into insects.” The thumb of her left hand began to gently stroke his right cheekbone. “Maybe it’s time to expand your views of what’s possible,” she said gently.
Lex wasn’t sure he could. She had died. Everyone had told him she had died, down to the coroners report. Hell, he’d visited her grave. Yet for the past two years he had been haunted by a vision who had really been his lost Chloe all along. It was too much.
“I remember things no one else could. I remember Halloween night when you saved me from being raped by Donovan Sanders, beat him and then took me upstairs to your room and took care of me.”
“Stop,” Lex whispered, his voice hoarse.
“You and I used to play gin rummy. You never let me win.”
“Stop it.” He hated the way his voice nearly broke. He had to get away from her. He moved backwards slightly as she continued to speak. She followed him, her hands still on him, gentle and warm.
“Corinne and I locked you and Jules in the janitor’s closet because you wouldn’t talk to him.”
His eyes closed against the past. “Stop.”
“I remember that you told me you loved me the night we made love for the first time. In a club at a New Year’s Eve party.”
“Goddamn it, stop.” He snarled pulled away from her soothing hands. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.
“It was amazing Lex, making love to you. You spent hours at a time tracing that tattoo with your hands and your mouth. You used to hold me so closely. You don’t know how much I’ve missed being in your arms since I left.”
“Stop goddamn it!” Lex snapped. He jumped to his feet and glared down at the girl on her knees as if in supplication. “Just stop!”
“No. I won’t. ” She laughed, actually laughed out loud as she stood up. “I have been killing myself hiding from you for months and I’m not going to do it anymore. I love you, Lex Luthor. And I’m not going to let you being an idiot get in the way of that.”
And then, sweet Jesus, her arms were around his neck and her mouth was on his. He moaned at the feeling and opened his mouth to her tongue and wrapped his arms around her waist. God, she tasted the same as he remembered, sweet and hot. When her fingernails scraped across his bare head his world exploded.
After several long minutes, they broke apart gasping for breath. It *was* her. And it was a fucking miracle that he had her back. But his need to know the truth, the need for answers was too strong and the words spilled out before reason or self control could stop them.
“Why did you leave, Chloe?” He demanded moving his arms from her waist to tangle in the soft blonde hair he had missed for so many years. “I needed you and you were gone. How could you not tell me?”
~*~*~
Chloe gaped at him. “Tell you? How could I have told you?” She shook her head at him, his hands fell away with the movement. “You would never have believed me. You barely believe me now.”
“That’s not true,” he shot back, his hands sliding down the back of her head to caress her neck. He couldn’t get over the feel of her skin under his fingers.
"The hell it’s not. You were this close to hitting me earlier, Lex," she snapped, holding her hand up in front of his face, her thumb and forefinger mere centimeters apart. "I thought you were going to have a stroke or turn into the Incredible Hulk."
“That’s not really the issue here, Chloe.”
“Yes it is. You made it the issue. I would have been happy for you to have just let us be, for us to enjoy being together again but you’ve got to complicate it,” she sighed “You always complicate things more than is necessary.
“It is complicated Chloe. I though you were dead.” He ran his hand across the skin at her nape again, reassuring him that she was real. “I’ve mourned you for more than five years.”
Her expression softened a bit at that and she lifted a hand to his face. “I know. And if I could have done anything to prevent that I would have.” She caressed his cheekbone with her fingertips. “But I didn’t force you to start using again.”
He jerked away from her as if she had struck him. And just as quickly his walls were back in place, though far less stabile than they had been mere hours ago.
“Oh, come on, Lex. Like everyone in the northern hemisphere and parts of Europe didn’t know all about your wild child years. There’s no excuse for what you did.”
“I just lost the love of my life and then I had to sit by and watch for almost two years as cancer ate Jules from the inside out. I couldn’t do anything. What the hell did you want me to do?”
“I don’t know!” Chloe snapped, frustrated at him, herself, and what life had dealt. “Be strong. Stay in touch with Wendy and Corinne. Start your life over.” She threw up her hands and took a few steps back in hopes that the distance might help her think. It didn’t. “I knew it was coming. I did. I knew that all that Club Zero shit was going to happen but I had hoped…”
“What Chloe, what did you hope?” Lex demanded, standing still as a statue. His face was an icy mask, save his brows which were furrowed slightly despite his best efforts.
He didn’t look like Xan at the moment. Right now he was pure Lex, seeking truth, no matter what the fallout might be. He would have made a great reporter if he’d had a chance to live his own life. He would have been great at many things had he ever gotten a chance.
But that he kept saying her name over and over again was at once reassuring and depressing. It was as if he was working overtime to convince himself of the reality of the situation. It also meant that he still didn’t really believe her, not deep down.
She hung her head and took another step backward. “That I could change the past. That what I did was in spite of what happened, not the cause of it.” She sighed. “It’s egotistical but I had hoped that my being with you meant things would be different now.”
Chloe laughed and rubbed her upper arms with her hands. “But they’re not. Your brother is dead. You killed someone at Club Zero for all I know. You went on a bender that is still legendary in Metropolis. I think Slash and Sid Vicious would both give you commendations for your performances if even a quarter of the things I read in those old papers are true. And god, you fucked more women than I can possibly imagine.”
She began to pace slightly, her agitation mounting. She’d been so naïve, so childish. She had really thought she had made a difference. “Meanwhile I was living my innocent little life until bam! I get hit by a damn truck and suddenly I’m in a strange place with strange people and a strange new life.”
Chloe finally turned away from him, unable face him as she spoke. It hurt too much. “Then I’m unceremoniously dumped back into a world where I am no longer the person everyone thinks I am and I find the man I love gone. In his place is this asshole business man who not only moved on but was marrying another woman.”
She took several deep breaths, composing herself. But the tears still slipped through her emotional barriers to linger near the edges of her eyelashes only to fall.
When she met his gaze again slow tears made lazy pathways down her cheeks. “That was supposed to be ours, Xan. It killed me to watch you marry her. Even if it was just the pheromones, I died inside because I was so sure that would never be us.”
Lex fought the urge to flinch at the sound of that name on her lips. But more than causing pain, it drove him to close the space between them and catch her by the shoulders. "And you think it wasn't hard for me? I lost the only people I had left in the world within less than two years. I didn't get a chance to say good-bye to you and Jules died in my fucking arms. I'm sorry I couldn't be the hero you want me to be Chloe, but goddamn it,” he shook her gently but firmly, “I’m just not that strong."
“Yes you are,” Chloe murmured, searching for something in his eyes. She smiled slightly despite her tears as she found the compassionate glint behind his gaze that was the core of the man she loved so much. “You have to be, Xan. You’ve survived this long. And you’re still you underneath all that armor. It just…scared me. Things I heard and read. You promised me and Wendy you wouldn’t use again. I was just terrified that after all that, you had still been driven to such extremes.”
Lex relaxed his grip into a loose hug. “I didn’t have a reason to hold on anymore. You were long gone. Corinne took her baby and left. There wasn’t really anything left for me. I didn’t really see the point.”
“The point is always that where there’s life there’s hope. The point is you swore to us you would stop.”
“You were dead and Wendy was off in New Orleans at Tulane, dragging her boytoy behind her. No one cared. There was no reason-”
“How about just staying clean because it’s the right thing to do, or because you are an important person no matter what anyone thinks?”
“Xan, look at me,” Chloe said, emphatically. He didn’t meet her gaze so she caught his face in both her hands. “Look at me,” she commanded again, holding his face, forcing him to look her in the eye. “I love you, goddamn it. I always will. But knowing what you did to yourself, it kills me. I don’t understand it. I don’t think I ever will.”
“What do you want me to say?” Lex asked, staring into eyes he’d thought belonged to a specter mere hours before.
“Tell me that still you love me, too,” she demanded, crying in earnest now. “Tell me that you’re ok now or if you’re not, tell me you’ll let me help you.” Her voice hiccupped on a sob. “That’s what I want you to say. But only say it if you mean it,” she said gently. She did her best to keep the fear that he might no long love her, the fear of rejection hidden.
Lex shook his head slightly. “I never stopped loving you, Chloe. Never, not for one second.”
“But all those women-“
He jerked her suddenly closer. “Never. Not when I was so high I couldn’t think, not when I was so drunk I couldn’t see. I didn’t stop loving you all those lost years in Metropolis and New York and L.A. I didn’t even stop when I was so full of anger at you for leaving me that it was choking me. I have never stopped. I couldn’t. You were it for me. When I lost you,” he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple visibly moving at the reflex, “I lost hope.”
Her hands were gone from his face and wrapped around his neck once again. She buried her face against his chest and breathed deep. God, he still smelled the same. When his hand moved to caress her hair the gentle hands were so familiar it nearly brought her back to tears.
"Tell me this is really happening," he whispered into her hair. His voice was hoarse and choked. "Promise me this isn't some delusion or hallucination. Tell me you're real."
“I’m real, Xan,” Chloe murmured against the silk of his shirt. “I promise you, I’m real.” She let her left hand drop from around his neck and brought it to rest over his heart. “I know you can feel me. And that must be real.”
“God, Chloe,” Lex breathed. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” He held her tightly, afraid that if he let her go he would lose her again.
She let out a choked laugh. “I’m starting to get an idea.”
Lex pulled back slightly so he could look down at her. “Don’t leave me again, Chloe.”
I couldn’t bare it if you left me again. I wouldn’t be able to handle it the next time. I love you too much to go through it twice. These things were left unsaid, but Chloe heard them in his tone, saw them in his blue eyes, so open once again.
She gave him a wavering smile. “I’ll do my damnedest. Smallville’s not the safest place in the world. But I have no desire to be away form you again, I assure you. It wasn’t any fun for me either. So don’t leave me either, ok?”
He smiled back, a smile that was pure Xan. “Ok. I can live with that.”
Her grin grew wider. “Kiss me again, Xan? Like you used to.”
He couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to. And he didn’t.
After several moments of desperate kissing, clutching at each other with hands that had been empty for too long, they broke apart. Lex’s hand cradled the back of Chloe’s neck, the fingertips of both her hands gently stroked his hairless scalp.
“I’m sorry I insulted your head during that parasite fiasco,” Chloe said after several moments of silence. “I didn’t mean it. You know I love your head just the way it is.”
Lex stared down at her, absolutely astounded. The corners of his lips curved upward at her apology and suddenly it was all more real than the last half decade had been. Chloe was back with him, a miracle he wasn’t sure he would ever deserve. But he wasn’t going to take it for granted and he was never going to let her go again.
The End
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gecko
New Member
Posts: 9
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Post by gecko on Feb 22, 2006 13:56:19 GMT -5
loved it, great work
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