The Memoirs

It was an hour later when his lashes did fluttered. He'd been in a deep, dark place, the lowest possible on the 100 steps to consciousness. It had been some of the most restful sleep he'd ever gotten, but even that couldn't stop the onslaught of sensation. It started at his toes... crawling up his legs, through his chest, his arms, his face...his shoulder. It was a dull ache, thudding gently and he knew that it should hurt a whole hell of a lot more. A gentle pressure... something... something in his throat. He struggled, his eyes wide, and he could barely see the ceiling with his watery, hazed eyes.

 

The struggles woke Lionel, who had been sleeping quietly on his shoulder.  "Dominic.  Sssh.  It's all right.  You're in a hospital."  He raised his own bleary eyes to look at Dominic's reawakening.

 

Lionel's voice. He could hear it somewhere, somewhere very close, and he listened to it as he closed his eyes tight and struggled to keep breathing evenly. He would admit it to Lionel someday, but he'd never been as scared in his life as he was now. Waking up in a hospital was the worst thing in the world. He didn't know if half his arm was missing, or if they'd found a tumor when they were poking around, or if he was an invalid now. His nightmare come true.

 

"Come on, Dominic... open your eyes.  Look at me.  Please, look at me."  Lionel tightened his grip on Dominic's hand.  "Please."

 

He did, breathing hard around the several tubes aiding him in just that, and...Lionel's hand. He could feel it, and he squeezed softly, eyes flickering open to look at him.

 

"Yes."  Lionel smiled, hand reaching up to touch Dominic's face through the tubes.  "I didn't think I'd see those beautiful eyes again," Lionel said quietly.  "Never scare me like that again."

 

He tried to speak... it came out in a garble, and his terror increased, holding on as hard as he could...which was pathetically weak. He didn't know what had happened, didn't know where he was, didn't know if they were in Oregon for all he knew. Nothing, he couldn't remember anything of the moments before...he'd been shot. ....Roger. Roger had shot him. In the shoulder.

 

The pain blazed with each movement, and he whimpered quietly.

 

"No, no, be still.  I'm calling your doctor."  Lionel pressed the call button beside the bed.  "You're all right.  Sssh.  You're in Smallville.  With me.  The plant was destroyed.  Roger's dead.  They operated on you, saved your life... brought you back to me."  Lionel kissed his cheek, almost desperately.  "I'm taking you back to Mercy of Angels as soon as Dr. Braxton will let you be moved."

 

And very suddenly, there she was. She smiled down at Dominic as her stethoscope went around her ears, ignoring Lionel's gentle caress as she looked down into the terrified hazel eyes. "Hi, Dominic. I'm Toni, its nice to meet you. I'm your doctor...looks like you got into a bit of a scrape. Stay still for me, okay? We'll get these tubes out in just a sec." She did an entire check, heart, lungs, belly. She checked over the wound without bothering to ask Lionel to leave...he wouldn't, anyway. Checked all the stitches, checked for bleeding, or strange discharge. She gave him a push of morphine, and with a single rush of air from him, removed the tubes from his nose and throat. "Okay...Mr. Luthor. He's free to go."

 

He was gasping, quiet, eyes closing again as pain and the need for sleep clouded his senses.

 

Lionel picked up Dominic's room phone, cradling it against his shoulder as he refused to release his lover's hand.  "Doctor, I'm arranging for you to accompany him on the Medivac and you'll be brought back here as soon as he's settled and you've discharged him to his regular physician."

 

She had a rugged respect for him, and it pissed her off, but oh well. She nodded because it hadn't been a question but an order, and though her very insides warred not to let him talk to her like that...her inner healer wanted to make sure the man lying under her hand recovered to the best or her ability. "Alright."

 

"Thank you, Doctor."  He turned back to the phone, making the swiftest arrangements possible.

 

"L...L...." He croaked it, terrified eyes looking up at him.

 

Lionel cut his conversation off in mid-thought, hanging up the phone.  "What is it, Jiminy?" he asked quietly, hand going to his cheek again.

 

He spoke, but it was so soft he couldn't hear. The desperation was in his face though, and so this is why in all twelve years working for Lionel he'd only used the doctors twice.

 

"Dominic, what is it?"  He leaned closer, putting his ear almost against Dominic's mouth.

 

His voice was strained and quiet, swallowing harshly. "Please get me o-out of here."

 

"You're in no condition go anywhere, Dominic.  Please... tell me why you don't want to stay."  Lionel pled.  "I won't put your life in danger."

 

"I-I'm..." He looked so distressed. "You know h-how scared you a... are of spiders?" His voice was lower then a whisper, a murmur into his ear.

 

Lionel nodded.  "I know."

 

"I-irrational w...want to go home...pl... please..."

 

"Mr. Luthor... there's no possible way." She shook her head. "We have to keep him in for a minimum of five days, to give him pain relieving drugs and such. There's no way."

 

"There is always a way.  I won't have him denied, do you understand me?"  Lionel's face grew stony.  "If I have to go through the entire hierarchy of this institution, I will have this done.  You make the call.  Do I speak to you, or to your superior?"

 

"Mr. Luthor..." A sigh. "Its not that. If he goes home...does he have a professional health care individual to come and change his bandaging, give him morphine, check for internal bleeding?"

 

"I have a personal physician as he does, as well as a private nurse at 24-hour call, will that satisfy your needs?"

 

She sighed heavily. "I don't like it...but yes, it does."

 

"Good.  Then you take care of the arrangements here, and I will do so on my end."

 

Her frown said volumes. "I'd like to see credentials on your doctors, if you don't mind." Stubborn pride, dammit. She'd had her hands inside this very man only a while ago, and she'd be damned if she was going to give some half-assed crackhead her hard work, this mans life. So she peered at the older, bearded man, one eyebrow high and her arms crossed. Hawk eye.

 

"Fine.  They should be openly available through the hospital system.  Mine is Dr. Eugene Sawyer, graduated first in his class.  Dominic's is Dr. Phillipe Sandoval, both of which have privileges here and at Mercy of Angels.  The nurses are privately staffed by the doctors."

 

She was being snippy, and she knew it. "Mr. Luthor..." She frowned. "I just want the best for Mr. Senatori, I hope you know that. As soon as I get the credentials, you are free to transfer him to Mercy of Angels. But I strongly suggest you convince him not to go home... the chance of infection is still very high, and can be fatal. Do you understand?"

 

"Doctor, I am well aware of what you want.  However, I am not concerned with it.  Both doctors are highly capable. But, if it will set your mind at rest, I'll merely have him moved to my estate here, in Smallville, instead of Metropolis.  You can visit whenever you like, but you will not keep me from moving Dominic, as is his wish.  Do you understand me?" 

 

She smiled in amusement and offered her hand. "You're a very lucky man, Mr. Luthor." A shake of her head and she tucked her pen in her coat pocket, turning to the door. "The ambulance and my nursing staff will help you, as well as Dr Nielson. He'll be here in an hour or so."

 

Lionel shook her hand as she offered it, and then turned back to the telephone.  "If you'll pardon me, Doctor... I have quite a few arrangements to take care of."  He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his lover's face.  "You'll be out of here just as soon as I can arrange it, Dominic.  Hold on just a few hours longer."

 

He nodded a bit, and was asleep before the words had finished coming out of Lionel's mouth, relaxing into the blankets and pillows... skin trembling from the cool way they kept the hospital.

 

Lionel rested his hand on a cool shoulder, felt the trembling.  "Have another blanket brought in here."  He picked up the phone, and started making phone calls.

 

She was nodding as she left.

 

Lionel's fingers danced gracefully over the keypad of the phone, voice raising and lowering as he encountered stubborn people who refused to give him his way.

 

It was hours, alright. Four, to be exact, four of the most terrifying hours of his entire life. Christ, he hated hospitals. Death and illness and pain and disgust and horror. It helped that he wasn't awake for all of it...a small nap after waking up, and the pain brought him awake. Bright and piercing and he'd felt every single tug at his skin, every spot where it was sewn together as if he'd done it himself. He stayed quiet though...Lionel had told him always to tell him when he was in pain, but there was nothing he could do. Not now. He vaguely recalled a warm male voice in his ear, a woman's he couldn't quite decipher, and then the cushy feeling of being padded with drugs. Mmmm. Druuuugs.

 

Lionel's eyes caught when Dominic awoke, wrapped up his conversation quickly, snarled a threat into the receiver, and slammed it down before turning his attention to Dominic.  "I hope I didn't wake you."

 

He didn't bother shaking his head, just watching him with wide, glassy eyes. "Feel p… pretty good."

 

"Liar," Lionel whispered softly, teasing his lover's face with his fingertips.  "But, you've slept nearly four hours; that was my last phone call.  The room at the castle is being readied as we speak with all the equipment required, and as soon as it's ready you're being discharged."

 

"'m sorry." he whispered, letting his eyes fall shut again... then open, hoping they'd be clearer and less foggy.

 

"No.  Don't be sorry."  Lionel kept his hands on Dominic, touching and petting to reassure himself that his lover was still alive.  "There is nothing to be sorry for."

 

"You...you are the driving force i-in m...my life, Lionel." He watched him, from his circle of tubes and paper gown, glassy eyes and blood.

 

Lionel brought one of Dominic's hands to his mouth.  "I... I nearly hit Lex," Lionel confessed.  "He would not leave me alone, and I thought... you were dead.  And I almost hit him, because he would not let me mourn."  Lionel paused to take a deep breath.  "I just... could not think with you not there.  I could not function.  I was... scared.  And that's something I have not been in more years than I care to remember."

 

He squeezed his eyes shut again, opening them to find them pooled with tears and red. "Th... there isn't anything... it just wouldn't feel right... wi... without you by my side." He whispered, repeating the same words Lionel had whispered to him time and time again in the past few weeks, and he swallowed hard and squeezed his hand as gently as he could. "T... told you I'd never leave...  H...have...Lex?" The shot of medication was making him groggy thanks to the nice nurse who'd shot him up good and good a bit ago. "Talked? To him?"

 

Lionel squeezed Dominic's hand in his own.  "He called not long after you got out of surgery.  He... he wanted to know how you were doing."  He stroked the back of Dominic's hand with his fingers.

 

A sudden harsh gasp, and his eyes went wide. "Cl...Cl....Clark! Clark! He was there! Lionel!" His heart beat sped up, obvious by the leaping heart monitor, and two nurses came rushing in as Dominic grasped Lionel's arms. "He was there! H...he! He was there! He s-saved m... my l..!..."

 

"Clark is fine," Lionel reassured him, struggling to push Dominic back down on the bed.  "He was with Lex when Lex called.  Clark is just fine."

 

The nurse, the tiny woman who'd led Lionel into the room, came bustling in. "Mr. Luthor!" She said it firmly, as Dominic squirmed and tried to get up. "Mr. Senatori, lie back this instant!" Mother henish cluck of her tongue and she dismissed the male nurse, taking out the last batch of medication before he went home.  One of which was, of course, a tranquilizer.

 

Lionel did not budge from his position.  "Dominic.  Be still this instant.  You... nurse.  What do you think you're doing?" 

 

"The last batch." She knew he meant the tranquilizer, and shook her head a bit. "Its needed, for the last antibiotic to get through his system." She spoke a little louder as the man on the bed stilled and watched Luthor with big eyes, and she prepped the needle in her fingers.

 

He kept Lionel's eyes, staring into them, pleading with him to understand because he couldn't get the words.

 

"You will not," Lionel said firmly.  "I don't care what that is, you will not inject that into his system."

 

Too late. She glared at him and pushed in the penicillin and the other three medications into the IV, and left the room.

 

"Li... Lionel..." He whispered it softly, willing him to understand, grasping his fingers. "Lionel...Clark saved my life."

 

"I know he did, Dominic.  Lex and I saw him bringing you out."  Lionel wrapped Dominic's fingers in his own.  "I didn't question how, I was so... happy to see you alive."

 

The doctor was coming in as the nurse was leaving, having been notified of her patient's distress by the cardiologist, sighing heavily. "You both are going to give me a heart attack." She turned and shut the door behind her before walking to the free side of her patients bed. "Mr. Senatori... Mr. Luthor. I talked to the hospital administrator and he cleared you for leaving, with the condition that you stay in Smallville for a few days." She nodded it, checking her patients pupils... he was already falling back to sleep. Good. "In a few minutes the paramedics are going to come get you and take you home. Is everything set already, Mr. Luthor?"

 

Lionel blew an exasperated breath out through thinned lips.  "Yes, it is.  The equipment is being set up as we speak, and will be ready for him by the time we arrive.  The police have already removed the reporters from the grounds, so there should be no difficulties."

 

She restrained the gleeful smile at having irritated him. "Alright, then."

 

It only took about a half hour. The paramedics came and took him in the ambulance, though this time under completely different circumstances, of course. The media was going nuts just a few yards away from the house, but the police held them back at a safe distance.

 

Before he knew it, Dominic woke up in a completely different place. Warm, fuzzy bed, blankets and cozy pillow and oh. Home. He didn't even have to wake up to know it, just curling in closer and sleeping on.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

"Lex?" quiet voice, a warm hand touching his, squeezing. "Lex?"

 

"Yes, Clark?"  Lex's voice was quiet, squeezing the hand that touched his.

 

"Now....now that the plant's gone? Does it mean you're going back to Metropolis?" He murmured it from his perch, looking at his lover with sad eyes. He sat comfortably at the edge of Lex's desk, holding his lovers hand in his for just a moment. The photographers and media hounds were calming down from Lionel's grand entrance, sitting in piles and cliques or drifting around, waiting for any more movement, and he watched them with his sharp vision from the foggy glassed windows.

 

"No.  I'm not going back to Metropolis.  I'm going to stay here, preside over the rebuilding of the plant, and settle back into management as soon as it's rebuilt."  Lex rubbed his thumb over Clark's hand.  "I'm not leaving you, Clark."

 

He smiled a little absently. "That...that's good to know, Lex. That's...really good to know, actually."

 

"Clark... aside from the obvious... is something bothering you?"

 

A slight nod. "Yeah. I.." he sighed softly. "I don't really know. This...its my fault. And… my parents...its just been such a life changing day."

 

"Wait... what is your fault?  Clark, if you mean the plant... there's no possible way that could be your fault!"  Lex rose from his chair, moving to stand between Clark and the window so that his lover looked at him.  "I know you're overwhelmed.  But nothing that has happened today is your fault."

 

"It was." A soft look at him before looking away. "It was my fault. I was...I followed Roger. I know he had a bomb, but if… if he felt threatened... I'd know he'd blow it all up. Lex... I saw him kill Victoria, and shoot Dominic, and I didn't do anything."

 

"What could you have done, Clark?  Acted faster, delayed the evacuation?  Have the plant collapse in on thousands of people as they tried to escape?"  He wrapped his arms around Clark, pulling the boy to him.  "This isn't your fault, Clark.  Not at all.  You saved Dominic's life."

 

"I could have saved Victoria's. I could have." He murmured into a warm shoulder. "But I didn't."

 

"No, Clark.  You couldn't have.  You did save her life once, remember?  Here, in the castle.  You saved her once, and she went on to betray me, and then plot against me.  You don't owe people second chances, Clark... though God knows I'm glad of the one you gave to me."  He pressed Clark's head against his shoulder.  "Don't blame yourself for Victoria's mistakes."

 

He breathed in the heady scent of Lex's sweat, there on his skin, old cologne and the very soft smell of pure him. He pressed a kiss to the warm neck before lying his head on it, breathing softly. "You need to see your dad."

 

Lex ran his fingers through Clark's hair.  "You... you were right about him, Clark."

 

He leaned into the caress, linking his fingers warmly around his waist. "About what?"

 

"How... how he feels about me."  Lex's other arm slipped around Clark to hold him tightly.  "I... did what you said.  Before all this... I told him... I told him that I loved him."  Lex took a deep breath.  "And he still loves me."

 

He suddenly broke out into a smile, looking up with adoration and joy, then haphazardly rolled his eyes. "Told you. What did I tell you? I. Told. You. Points for Clark."

 

Lex smiled.  "Yes, you did.  You told me.  I didn't believe it, but you told me.  And you were right."

 

"Except the time where you punched him in the face." He frowned a little then, letting the easy smile slide from his lips. "You clocked him in the jaw, Lex."

 

"You also told me to act on my instincts, and my instinct was... not to lose him again.  And if I had to make him angry with me to keep him with me... then that's what I'd do."

 

"Good." He murmured it, listening to the people walking upstairs for a while as he curled in close. Cuddled and warmed himself with Lex's body, to remind himself what he'd given up to be here. "Lex... “Who ever said a man cant cry and be lonely?"." He nodded after the simple quote, looking up at him. "Who says you have to cry and be lonely? You're stronger then that."

 

"And so are you, love.  As long as you have me, you will never have to cry and be lonely."  He tugged Clark behind him to the couch, curling up with him on the leather sofa.  "You're stronger than I am."

 

"Hah. And also? Hah." He snickered it and sat down, leaning in close. "Lex?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"We're stuck in your castle in the middle of Kansas with the media outside, we're kissing and making out like the gay guys we are, your dad's upstairs with his wounded assistant that for some reason or another they came here, and Enrique's outside listening to us." A pause... and he cracked up.

 

Lex couldn't help it.  He laughed.  "Well, now that you mention it... that is a rather unique situation, and not at all one that I ever imagined myself in."  He wrapped his arms around Clark's waist as he laughed.  "I have imagined you with me in nearly every room in the house, but the other factors?  Not even a thought."

 

"Yeah?" A pause, and he gave him innocent, bright eyes. "Every other room? Really?"

 

"Especially the kitchen."  He kissed Clark's chin softly.  "But yes.  Really."

 

He kissed back, looking into his eyes as he nibbled. "Lex?"

 

"Hmmm?"  Lex was too busy staring into Clark's eyes to remember little niceties like speech.

 

"When...if…this ends...I want you to promise me something." He curled into the warm leather deeper, and linked a leg through Lex's, grasping his hands as he brought them to his mouth to kiss.

 

Lex shook his head slightly.  "You mean us?  We'll never end, Clark. But I will promise you anything."

 

"We might...you never know, Lex. You don't. But...I want us to stay friends. Can you promise me that? Will we always be friends?"

 

"I swear to you, Clark.  On my heart... my soul... my name... my love for you.  We will always be friends.  First, last, always friends."

 

"Good." He grinned and suddenly twisted his nipple hard. "So its okay to do that then run away cackling evilly?" He smirked. "Except I didn't run, a'course."

 

Lex gasped and then grunted, landing a smack on his lover's thigh.  "Only if you don't mind a little... payback later."

 

"You wouldn't dare."

 

Lex looked seriously at his lover.  "Wouldn't I?"

 

"You so wouldn't." His grin was wicked at the edges. "Cause then I'd have to show you how high I float when I.....you know." A soft flush.

"I'm a scientist, Clark. I'm always into... experimentation." He said it with enough lechery that it would not be possible to take him seriously.

He giggled, softly into Lex's cheek, then looked up with dancing eyes. "You're a bitch."

"Aaah, yes, but I'm your bitch, and that is the only reason you get to call me that." He pounced forward, pressing Clark back against the arm of the sofa as his eyes twinkled down at his lover.

 

Clark laughed out loud, eyes dancing as he looked up at him, being pinned because it amused him and he got to feel all the long, hard planes of his lovers body. "I dunno, I thought I heard Enrique call you that the other day."

 

Lex snorted.  "Not in my hearing, he didn't."

 

"Lex..." He rubbed his lips up gently against Lex's, rubbing the sides of his rib cage with his palms. "We should go check your father and Dominic...get everything together. This...your plant blew up. You gotta talk to the press and do all the money stuff, right?"

 

"If my father and Dominic are smart, they're doing the closest facsimile to this as they can right now."  Lex nuzzled Clark's throat.  "The press can rot in hell."  The nuzzle moved lower.

 

He sighed softly, duty calling him even as he sunk into his lovers caresses. "But....your business...stocks...people..."

 

Lex grinned into Clark's skin.  "Business, stocks, and people are the whole reason that LuthorCorp employs people like Dominic in the first place," Lex reminded his lover.  "They can handle it, it's what they're paid to do.  Even as we speak, one of our representatives is going over the casualty lists and seeing who is unaccounted for and the assessment team is on the way."

 

"Oh." He blinked at the wall as he cupped the back of Lex's head. "That... oh. Well. Okay, now I get it." He grinned a little and leaned down to take a kiss from his lovers warm scalp. "Lex? I have to... to ask you a dumb private question." He grinned into warm skin as his body started to spike with interest.

 

Lex barely paused his mouth's trail down Clark's chest.  "Ask me anything."

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

The clouded sky shown over the bed as he settled into it, the numerous instruments and tubes set all around him, and the warm button pajamas were buttoned over him by the nurse who'd aided them home. He was quiet, asleep, until they'd finished and he managed to look at his love. Lionel's face was flushed in some spots and deathly pale in others, and he squeezed the hand holding his gently to reassure him.

 

Lionel gripped Dominic's hand as tightly as he dared.  "Better now?" He asked softly, indicating the surroundings of home with an airy gesture of his head.  Which he immediately regretted, as the pounding behind his eyes protested the movement.

 

A soft nod, and for the first time in this whole ordeal, his body was relaxed, his eyes were closed without the lines at the edges. "'m sleepy."

 

"I am too, love," Lionel said softly.  "But at least I got a doctor to look at your leg."

 

Amusement sparked his expression and he creaked open bleary eyes. "She bet-better not've messed it up."

 

Lionel laid his head against Dominic's shoulder.  "She didn't.  Only stitched it closed."

 

"Lion'l..." He murmured it, turning his face to his lover on the wide double bed. "Sleep."

 

Lionel kissed Dominic's throat.  "I will.  But I have to watch over you."

 

"Lovely..." A quiet murmur, already slipping back asleep as he felt Lionel's skin... his mouth...the never ending, lovely feeling of being loved. "Lo-lovely one... gotta sleep... you... you're tired... Sleep, please..." He whispered it even as he fell back asleep, his breath evening out as his muscles relaxed.

 

Lionel watched until Dominic fell asleep, and for a long moment simply watched his lover breathe, chest rising and falling steadily.  Exhaustion dragged at him, and Lionel lowered his head to rest on Dominic's stomach as he wept silently, soon falling to sleep against his lover's side.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

"Your head...it... it always smells really..." A little gasp and Clarks eyes went wide. "Really...good. What...what do you...do you use lotion? Or something?"

 

Lex snickered against Clark's throat, biting his Adam's apple before answering.  "It's a very unique fragrance, Clark.  One you may not be familiar with."  His eyes were laughing as he looked up at his lover.  "It's called... soap."

 

He grinned wickedly, looking back down at him with a raised brow. "This...soap, you say. Does it have a hefty price tag of 167.99 perhaps?" His other brow shot up as he dared him to say something, squeezing his ass teasingly.

 

"Not quite.  It's actually sold by the bottle, and it's $120 a bottle."  Lex smirked as Clark squeezed his ass.

 

"Lex, you do realize that you're a total spoiled brat, right?"

 

"Of course I am."  He grinned.  "And you say this like it's a bad thing."  Lex rubbed his lover's chest.  "I'd like to spoil you."

 

He murmured around a mouthful of ear, sucking at the lobe softly as they moved gently against another, caressing and touching and kissing and... loving. "Just as long as we're all sure, here." He glanced up with a grin. "You already spoiled me."

 

Lex eyes were suddenly serious.  "Not nearly so much as I want to, Clark.  There's nothing I can do to fix the thing that is hurting you the most, and that is what I want to do."  He kissed Clark softly and lazily.  "But I'll try and make it up to you."

 

He kissed back, but when they pulled away for breath he was frowning. "He won’t come around. We both know that."

 

"Yes he will.  Between your mother and I, we'll make sure of it."

 

"Lex, he'll so soon as come through here with his shot gun and rip you apart then come to apologize. He's too proud for that." A soft frown.

 

"Clark... if my father can overcome his pride to admit that he loves both me and Dominic... then there is hope."

 

"Your father isn't like mine, Lex." A soft shake of his head. "Your dad...he's classy, and elegant, and ruthless. My dad...he's proud and stubborn and a pig headed jerk. Mine...he wont come around."

 

Lex sighed.  "Clark... do you know why your father hates mine so much?  I do; my father is just as proud, stubborn and pigheaded as yours is.  Mine just goes about it in a different way." 

 

"My dad knew yours… way back when. Did your dad ever talk to you about it? I think they were friends at some point."

 

Lex sighed and rolled back on the couch, tucking Clark between his legs.  "They were lovers, Clark.  A long time ago.  I think my father loved him, as much as he was capable, and from what I learned, I know Jonathan loved him.  But Hiram--your grandfather--wouldn't have it.  Not his son, not with a Luthor.  So he forbid Jonathan to see my father."  Lex rested his hand over Clark's heart.  "Hiram wouldn't even allow Jonathan to explain things.  My father... my father grew angry and bitter, thinking that he'd been betrayed by his lover; I'm sure your father felt the same way."

 

WHAT?!  His stomach clenched and rolled and his eyes went very, very wide. "L...l....lovers? What? My....dad? Mine? The...the, you know, straight guy?" His mouth was open in a sexy "o" of surprise. It was comical... except for the whole lovers part. "Are you sure?" His anger suddenly peaked as he was tucked into Lex's legs.  "Wow. Hey! Then why was he so mad at me for being with you?"

 

"I'm positive, Clark.  I know that my mother wasn't lying.  And I also know that I wasn't supposed to overhear it."  Lex sighed.  "He's angry because he's afraid that I will do to you what he thinks Lionel did to him... abandon him.  My father never tried to contact Jonathan.  He believed that Jonathan had cut him off.  So he left the connection in the dust.  But I am betting your father doesn't know that."

   

"No...God, Lex, that explains why he hates your dad so much. Oh my god. That's...oh my god. How...but he's married to my mom! How...dammit. This is all...very...very brain achy." He said it as he rubbed his temple.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

She was giving him the silent treatment. Not a word had been said since Lex and Clark had driven off, and she'd cleaned the glass that she'd thrown in anger a bit ago. Clark’s room was organized with the things he hadn't taken, the kitchen sink emptied. Without a word.

 

Jonathan had stopped trying to talk to his wife after his first few attempts had been rebuffed, and had instead retreated to the barn, where he sat in the doorway, polishing the walnut stock of his shotgun.

 

And tonight, she'd pack her things and leave. She had taken and taken and taken, until finally the time had come where she'd taken to much, and she couldn't stand him anymore. Whatever thread she'd been holding onto had been snipped when he'd thrown their only son on the street.

 

As soon as Jonathan had finished cleaning and polishing his gun, he carefully locked it back away in the corncrib, and walked back up to the house.  "Martha."

 

She didn't answer...she hadn't in the hours before and she wouldn't now, arranging the pantry for lack of something to keep her hands busy, straightening whatever needed to be straightened before turning and leaving the room.

 

"Martha, I'm going to go talk to Clark."

 

She stopped walking and turned to look at him, her eyes clear and steady, watching him for a long moment. "Good."

 

"I'm not coming home without our son."

 

"It won't fix everything, Jonathan." She said it without a hint of relenting, of sorrow. "Not everything."

 

Jonathan sighed.  "He's my son, Martha.  I don't care what choices he makes, he's always going to be my son."

 

"I didn't mean with Clark, Jonathan." And with that she turned and walked up the steps.

 

Jonathan was left with the distinct impression that he had missed something, something very vital to the survival of his marriage.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Lex's hands moved his lover's out of the way and massaged his temples for him.  "I believe your parents met not long after your father ran away from home."

 

"Ran away?!" He stopped ranting and just stared. "Its very, very sad that you know more about my parents then me."

 

Lex gave a small grin.  "I have quite a few resources at my disposal, Clark.  One of them being Nasty Nell, who was quite... close to my father after my mother's death.  She was more than happy to dish on your father's... situation."

 

"I can only guess that has to do with being, you know, rich and all." He smiled very gently, rubbing the back of his knuckles against his lovers cheek. "Do you ever wish things were different, Lex?"

 

"Different?  Sometimes.  I wish Julian had lived, though I think my father would have seen to it that we hated each other.  I wish my mother had lived."  He sighed and leaned into Clark's caress.  "But do I wish I were a different person?  No.  I make the best of who I am now."

 

"No… I..." He stroked the warmed fingertips over his lower lip very gently and lovingly, watching his hand moved as he traced the line of Lex's lip. Sexy little white scar... the slope of lower lip, the miniscule crevices, and he wondered if Lex ever used something to keep these lips as gorgeous, and perfect, as they were. "Do you...do you ever wish you were a normal kid? Living in the 'burbs...mom and a mini van...going to college, drinking with your sorority brothers?"

 

"When I was younger, yes.  I used to wish very much that I was just a normal child.  I used to wish that I didn't have asthma, that I didn't get sick all the time, and that my hair wasn't flamingly red.  I stopped... I stopped wishing after the meteor shower.  I got all my wishes.  My asthma went away... I didn't get sick..."  he paused to sweep his hand over his head.  "And my hair was no longer a problem."

 

"Do you ever think that God gypped you, Lex?" It was a quiet question, his fingers moving to follow Lex's palm as they swept over the cool scalp.

 

"If I believed in God, then maybe I might.  But I haven't crossed the threshold of a church since my mother died, and my faith, whatever it might have been, died with her.  But no, I don't think that." He shivered at Clark's touch, again leaning into it, rubbing his cheek against Clark's shoulder.

 

"You're stronger then you know." He murmured very gently, and began to rub his fingers lightly over his lovers ear an jaw and cheek, holding him close. "You've always been stronger then you know, even when you were little and full of red hair." A sudden soft grin, and he ran his free hand down to his crotch, caressing it with the back of his fingers. "Got some left here, though.."

 

Lex laughed softly.  "That's how you know I was a natural redhead."  He thrust up softly into Clark's easy touch.  "I haven't been strong, Clark.  I haven't been strong so much as ruthless, and I didn't know there was a difference until I met you."

 

“I just think you think to little of yourself." An easy slide into comfort, wriggling closer to him as he let warm eyes fall shut and his head on his shoulder. "I just think you don’t want to look closer because you're afraid of what you'll see."

 

Lex shook his head.  "Lately, I've been afraid that I won't see what you do."

 

"Then you're quite frankly, a dork." He murmured it into a soft cheek bone, grinning as he licked and kissed… before a moment, and he was serious again. "Lex...I don't understand you half the time. Hell, more then that. You're always in your own mind, doing your own thing, so my observation skills aren't great. But what I DO see....is you. Just… you. With money and power and fancy clothes and slick cars all stripped away... you're Alexander Luthor. And you're a hottie."

 

"I'm... not that great a person, Clark.  I hurt you with my words, I say things in anger that I don't mean, I decked my own father, for the love of God.  I don't know... I don't know that I see the person you do, and... that scares me, Clark.  It scares me that you see things in me that I myself don't." Lex moved so that he was coiled more completely around Clark.

 

"I don't have the answer Lex." He finally said, tucking him in close. "That's just something you have to decide for yourself."

 

Lex found himself snuggling tightly against the larger form of his lover.  "I will, eventually."  His fingers laced through Clark's.  "I hope to see the same man you do."

 

They sat together in contorted, comfortable silence, until Clarks voice murmured in the darkness of the room. "Lex....we need to check on your dad."

 

Lex nodded.  He'd put off facing the old bastard as long as he'd could.  He was torn; half of him wanted to hug his father in relief and be glad for him that Dominic was alive, and the other part wanted to rip him to shreds for having the meteors in the plant that had nearly killed his lover.  "You're right."

 

A moment. "You wont hit him again… right?"

 

Lex considered, and gave the only honest answer he could.  "I won't unless he gives me a reason."

 

"Lex?" It took him a minute to stand, to offer a wide palmed hand down to help him up as well. "I gotta go talk to my dad. You talk to yours and make things right between you." His large fingers cupped the sides of the slim face and he angled him up to look at him. "Not just acceptable. Right."

 

"Only if you try and make things right with yours.  Clark... I don't want you to end up with Jonathan like I have with my father.  You both love each other, and that's not something you can throw away."  He gazed up at Clark.  "I will do what I can to make peace with my father."

 

A hollow shrug, then a crooked smile that lit his face for a moment. "At least the journalist bowling will be fun." He stopped and leaned in, cupping his elbows as he pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "I love you."

 

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark, deepening the kiss for a long moment.  "I love you, Clark.  And if you need me, I am with you."  He rubbed his hand over Clark's chest.  "Always."

 

"Okay, okay, break up the mushiness." He grinned, but there were tears in his eyes. "I don't know when I'll be home, Lex...I'll call you from the house."

 

"Do you... do you want me to come there when I'm done with my father?  I don't know how long that will take either, but... if you'd like... I will be there."  He reached up and rubbed his thumb over Clark's cheekbones.

 

"I need to do this alone, Lex." He kept his hand to his cheek with his palm, squeezing gently. "Check on Dominic for me."

 

"I will."  He rubbed Clark's face again.  "And I understand.  Wait here."  He went to the desk, and opened the bottom drawer, rummaging for a moment, and returned with a silver phone.  "I had... I'd gotten this a few weeks ago... waiting for the right time to give it to you without your parents having you return it.  But it's yours."  He closed Clark's hand around it.  "Call me."

 

He looked down at his hand, blinking at it, before up at Lex with a soft grin. "You're such a cheeseball." He reached forward and pressed their mouths together, warm and heated for just a second before he tucked the phone safely away. "And I've got something for you... too." A reach into his pocket and he pulled out a small silver chain, where a small criss crossed rope pendent sat at the end. "I found it in Ireland. Its old...and it means "Life so beautiful". " A serious nod, and he squeezed Lex's hand.

 

Lex ran his fingers lightly over the chain as Clark held it up.  "It's beautiful."  He twisted his torso so that his back was to Clark, and tilted his head to the side so that Clark could slide the chain around his neck and clasp it in place.

 

He followed, slowly clasping the pendant around Lex's throat. The heavy silver slid to hide down underneath the simple collar of his shirt and the pendant, criss crossed and encircled with tiny ropes, slipped between the buttons and into its hiding place there by his heart. "Its a circle of ropes, Lex. It symbolizes..." He ran his fingers gently over the slim column of throat, caressing with his thumb. "Life being a never ending circle. You twist and weave, you experience heart ache and great joy, and when you die it starts all over again, and hopefully people from this life learned of you from the last and learn from you." He gently pressed his mouth to the knob on the back of his lovers naked skull, kissing softly before wrapping his arms around Lex's waist. "I hope it gives you hope."

 

Lex arched his throat into Clark's tender caresses.  "It gives me hope, Clark... hope of always being bound to you.  I did die; I started over again because of you."  He ran his fingers over the intertwined strands.  "This is you and me, Clark... always intertwined, always together, always meeting."

 

He smiled and mouthed the very warm spot behind his ear, licking it gently and tasting the cologne of the day. Something spicy...raw and dark but light at the same time, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "We always will be, Lex. Even when we curse and fight and hate each other… we'll always be intertwined."

 

"I'll never hate you, Clark.  I couldn't."  He turned around, rubbing his face gently in the crook of his lover's neck.  "I can't imagine anything that would tear us apart now."

 

He gave himself the warmth of Lex's arms for another long moment, gently rubbing his lips softly against a warm cheek, and let go. "I've got to find my dad, Lex. I have to..." Make things right? Change what happened? "Do something. You know?" He brought the slim fingered hand to his mouth, gently kissed the back. "Love you."

 

"I know."  He raised himself to kiss Clark's cheek.  "You will make it right, Clark.  I know you will.  I have faith in you."

 

Ditto." He kissed again, squeezed his hand tightly, and in a half second he was racing out of the mansion at the speed of sound, a whir of site as he slipped out the back and disappeared into the vast corn fields behind Lex's home.

 

Lex watched his lover leave, fingers playing with the fine silver around his throat as he turned to climb the stairs.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

Jonathan swung himself into the cab of the pickup truck, cursing the day that Lionel Luthor had impregnated his wife and the day nine months later that had given birth to Lex Luthor.  Without that boy in their lives, Jonathan just knew that somehow, his life would be much easier and Clark would be happier too.  Shaking his head to clear it of those thoughts, Jonathan cranked the truck and pulled out the long driveway, swallowing his bitter pride and going to his son.

 

Clark ran. As hard as he cold, the cold wind blowing in his face and the clean scent of it filling his body to exploding with ripe oxygen. He ran, because it was the only time when he was truly alone, when he could think without anyone interrupting him. Last summer he'd run all the way across the United States, and he vowed by the next summer he'd fly across the Atlantic. It was his goal. Sort of. Aside from not letting anyone die and all, of course.

 

Aside from his parents kicking him out.

 

A fence...tall...coming up. He picked up his speed, jumped, and exerted all of his energy into keeping his center of gravity up...up....over the 10 foot tall fence by a whole two feet before landing and continuing on. He swerved around Mr. Johnson's herd of cattle, leaping over a small wall, and took off through the corn down by the edge of the highway.

 

Jonathan drove swiftly and surely, bypassing the cornfield next to the Johnson herd and slowing, as he always did, to study the herd carefully.  If Lex hadn't killed his herd before, it would have been about the size of Johnson's by now.  The replacement herd was good stock, though, and grudgingly Jonathan admitted, at least to himself, that Lex had done that much right by them.

 

He sped along it, weaving in and out of the corn at his lightening clip...and he felt the first tears of this whole ordeal take him over. They slipped off his face before they came out of his eyes, but after a long moment he slowed… stopped, and let them run down his dusty face. Christ. He'd nearly been killed, he'd seen someone die, he'd seen someone else get shot, he'd had a building fall on him, his dad had kicked him out of his house because he was gay, and he didn't know what he was going to do.

 

Jonathan slammed on his brakes when he saw a streak cutting through the corn, and then stop abruptly.  He snatched the keys out of the ignition, almost stalling the old truck in the middle of the highway as he flung the door open and jumped out.  "Clark?  CLARK!!"

 

He turned like deer-in-headlights, eyes wide, and quickly swiped his cheeks clean with his sleeves, hearing his dad come closer. He stepped over a small stalk that had been broken during his abrupt stop and cleared the corn, standing in the dusty gravel of the side of the road as his father...someone he'd used to adore and look up to and now could barely look at, came towards him.

 

"Clark... what are you doing out here?"  He walked closer to Clark, and as he saw the tear tracks, he growled.  "What did he do to you, Clark?  If he hurt you... I'll kill him."  He stopped a few feet away from his son.

 

"Fuck." He growled it himself under his breath but loud enough to be heard, looking down and wiping his face again as his fury ebbed close. He stayed quiet, looking back up to gaze at his father in the eyes, to see if there was any understanding there… anything at all.

 

Jonathan didn't drop his eyes, not sure what Clark was looking for in them, but hoping he found it.  "Clark... you shouldn't use language like that.  If your mother heard that, she'd skin you and me both.  You for saying it and me for teaching it to you."

 

Silence. Just watching him, arms at his sides, his shoulders almost slumped as the dying sun lit the world a beautiful gold and red, shadows and lights.

 

And it nearly killed Jonathan to see his son looking... so defeated.  So world-weary.  "Clark... son."

 

"Don't." He said it softly, holding up a hand and taking a step back. "Don't. Please." He let his hand fall again, their distance greater and not just what road was between them.

 

Jonathan tried not to flinch, but then let himself, let Clark see how much that refusal had hurt him.  "You're... you're always my son, Clark.  No matter what else passes between us, you're always gonna be my boy."

 

He shouldn't have said that, because the ball of emotion was in his throat now, and he was trying so hard to stay straight faced but his expression was crumbling with each stiffly inhaled breath. "You made me leave because I'm gay."

 

Jonathan closed the distance swiftly.  "No, Clark.  Never because of that.  I didn't want you to leave.  I thought... I thought you'd choose us over Lex.  I don't care that you're gay, Clark.  I... I was.  Still am, I suppose, if I didn't love your mother so much.  I'd... I'd never throw you out because of that."  He wanted so much to reach out and touch his son, hug him, hold him, but he didn't, and it hurt.

 

Shit. Twin tears slipped down his cheeks at his words, reflected by the golden light reflected over the road, and his chin trembled hard. "W… why would I ever choose Lex over you? Why? How can you even say that? How could you put me in a situation to choose? You made me stand there, with one of the people I love most in this world, and choose between you and him. You made me do that, dad." He would be damned if he'd let his father see him cry, and he swiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand every time one of the tears fell, and as anger stole his voice to make it sound like a sob. "If you are, why did you make me choose? Why?"

 

Jonathan didn't care what Clark did to him, and he reached out to wrap his arms around his son's shoulders.  "Clark... I thought I was doing the right thing.  I thought... I thought that I was protecting you from Lex the way my father tried to protect me from Lionel."

 

Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to hug him like that, and most importantly of all, why did he hug back? "Lex told me. Told me all about it. Told me that your dad made it seem to Lionel that you didn't want him anymore. That you didn't ever want to see Lionel again. That's why he didn't come back, that's why."

 

Jonathan tightened his arms around his son.  "I... I wanted to see him, Clark.  He... I loved Lionel Luthor with everything I was, and... when my father said I couldn't see him... Lionel never tried to contact me again.  I hated him for that."  He swallowed back his own tears and old anger.  "I didn't want Lex doing that to you; I wanted to protect you."

 

"Lex isn't like that." He pulled away fiercely, looking at his father in anger and a strange sense of fatigue, as if the weight of the world was finally taking its toll. "Lex isn't Lionel. Lex is Lex, kind and funny and intelligent and dammit, I love him. Nothing you can say is going to change that, nothing is going to keep me away from him, and you want to know why? Huh? You want to know why, dad? Because he makes me happy."

 

Jonathan's own tired eyes looked back at Clark.  "Lionel used to be, too.  He used to smile, sometimes... smile in such a way that you just... wanted to give him anything in the world just so you could see that smile again.  He used to laugh, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world; the only thing that I've heard more beautiful than his laugh was your first words, your first laugh.  I know how Lex is, Clark... because Lionel used to be that.  And you see what Lionel turned into."

 

"He. Makes. Me. Happy. Haven't you ever realized I'm never happy? I'm not. I'm always worried and anxious and sad, I'm always mourning someone or wishing things had happened differently with someone else. I've put friends in the ground and I've thrown others in jail... I've killed people for the sake of good, dad. I'm a murderer. The guilt eats away at me every single day of my life, until I met Lex. And you know? Even if it doesn't last, even if he betrays me and turns into a rotten bastard, u--" He was crying again. Damn you, hormones. "Until the day he looks at me in hate, I'll take what I can. Because its all I've got."

 

Jonathan moved and wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him to sit on the tailgate of the truck as he lowered it.  He crouched down in front of Clark, taking both of his son's hands in his own.  "Clark... Jesus.   Listen to me.  You're not a murderer.  You just... did what you had to do."  He sighed.  "Maybe... maybe I pushed you too hard about your gifts, I don't know.  Maybe I didn't teach you how to handle things well enough  But Clark... you're a good man.  You're probably a better man than your dad here is."  He hugged Clark tightly.  "Lex is never all you've got, Clark.  You've got your mother and I until the day we die."

 

For the first time since he was a little boy he pressed his face into his father’s neck hard, hugging him as tightly as he could to him and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely safe. Like it was okay, like everything was okay. And it helped. "Dad...I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry I got mad, I'm sorry I didn't hear you out, I'm sorry."

 

"No, son... it's okay.  You got nothing to be sorry for."  He pulled Clark tight to him, rocking his son in his arms.  "I shouldn't have flown off like that, shouldn't have let my temper get the best of me, and I shouldn't have made you choose."  He squeezed Clark tightly, his fingers rubbing his son's hair.  "I just don't want to lose you, son."

 

He held on, even as his father rocked him, even as he held him in his arms like he was little again… and he suppose he still was. "You'll never lose me dad, not ever, I promise. Ev-even when I get mad I won’t do that again, I promise." He mumbled it into his fathers shoulder. "Dad, please don't make me leave Lex. Don't make me. If you say it, I will. But please don't, please."

 

Jonathan tightened his grip on Clark.  "I won't, Clark.  I won't.  I won't make the same mistake my father did.  I won't make you leave Lex."  Part of his brain screamed at him for his idiocy, but the fatherly part of his brain held tightly to his son.  "I love you, Clark... never doubt that."

 

"I love him, I love him so much, not like anything, ever, I feel like there's something for us, something more. Please don't make me leave him. Please." Then the words, blessed words, and he let the sob escape him as he clutched tighter. "I love you, dad."

 

Jonathan didn't say anything else, couldn't speak around the lump lodged in his throat.  He just squeezed Clark tighter, rocking him as he hugged.  His son was back, and for him, Jonathan could swallow his pride.  Finally, he blinked hard and spoke.  "I love you, Clark... so much."

 

They sat like that for a long time, their embrace tight and hard for a while...until the golden sun arched low underneath the horizon and the world spilled with the first light blues of oncoming night, the moon already starting to show its pretty face in the darkest part of the sky. "Dad... I'll be home tonight. I've got to go to Lex's… he... he was gonna talk to his dad. I... I gotta be there for him. Lionel doesn't treat him well, dad... really badly, in fact. Lex... he's got all this... this heartbreak over it, you know? He hates his dad, but he loves him... and it hurts him."

 

Jonathan nodded.  "You... you can stay with Lex if you want to, Clark.  Just... you're still welcome at home too.  It's up to you, whatever you want to do."  He looked down.  "But... you should call your mother.  Let her know that you're all right."  He squeezed Clark's forearm.  "And... I've still got some pull with Lionel Luthor, and if I yell loud enough, he'll listen.  If you boys need me, you call me.  If he hurts Lex, that hurts you, and... and I won't have it."

 

"Dad..." He looked him in the eyes, fingers wrapped tight around his own fathers arms.

 

"Yeah, son?"

 

"Thank you. Thank you, dad. You've just...you'll never know what you just did for me. Thank you." He nodded it, squeezing his arms and swallowing hard.

 

"Don't thank me, Clark.  You're my son; I love you, and I want you to be happy."  He moved to dry Clark's face with his shirt sleeve, and sighed quietly.  "That's all I ever wanted, Clark.  I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I could never give that to you, but I'm glad that Lex can."

 

The grin was suddenly luminous, damp but sweet. "Dad...you guys make me happy. Overjoyed. I love you and mom so much. But Lex... Lex kicks into this part of me I never knew existed, you know?" A soft pause, and okay, might as well. They were being close, so he had to say it. "I've slept with him, dad. Does it change how you look at me?"

 

Jonathan shook his head no, despite the lump that rose in his throat and he forced it back down.  "No, Clark... all that does... is make me realize just how grown up you are... you're not my little boy anymore, and that's just not easy for a father to face."

 

He felt so much better. So much. His heart was as light as it had been in a while, and his soft smile was a little crooked. "We're safe. Always. In everything, dad, even stuff not about sex. We're safe, and we're good to each other. Dad...and we've been dating for almost six months, but until recently we didn't really get that we were, you know? Did it...it happen to you and Lionel like that?"

 

Jonathan boosted himself up on the tailgate beside Clark.  "Lionel... Lionel and I were like lightning in a bottle, Clark.  I was a different person.  We set each other on fire."  He moved so that he was sitting back to back with his son, staring up at the stars that were just beginning to show themselves.  "It was almost like a badly written pop song at first; uptown boy and backwards farmboy.  But we just... we clicked.  He was so smart, so handsome and he was interested in me."

 

He pressed to his dad and watched the sky, feet dangling off the side of the car as he looked up, not knowing how much he mimicked his father, down to his very body movement. And as he listened, he could picture it in his mind. His dad, sweet and kind and all flannel, and Lionel, young and robust and swamped in love. "Where did you meet him?"

 

"Here in Smallville.  His family had just acquired the Sharks; I was on the football team senior year, Walt had called the scout down, and Lionel came with him."  Jonathan smiled softly.  "He was sitting on the fifty-yard line, I saw him, and got creamed because he distracted me.  Walt reamed my ass out but good for watching the stands."

 

He laughed out loud, twisting his head a little to look at his dad out of the corner of his eye. "No way. You guys clicked like that? That's really cool. Did he come find you after the game?"

 

"Yeah, he did.  Came right down on the field after the game like he owned the place.  Introduced himself to everyone on the team, and teased me about watching him."  Jonathan warmed at the sound of his son's laughter.

 

“That sounds so like him, too." He grinned and watched the first stars twinkle into existence, wishing on them like he had as a young boy. "Dad...did you..." A little blush, and he shifted a little. "Did you know you were gay, before he came along? Or was it like....like something else?"

 

"No... I didn't know.  I'd dated a couple of cheerleaders, went out with Nell and Laura Potter, before Laura met James, anyway.  But there just wasn't that spark.  When I first saw Ly, it was... it was like someone had started shooting sparks under my skin."

 

The pet name caught him off guard, because suddenly he understood how his dad felt about Lionel. And that was something very strange to consider, but romantic at the same time. "You loved him a lot, huh?"

 

"Yeah, I did.  He was... really, he was the first person I ever loved.  First person I made love with."  Jonathan looked down at his hands.  "When my father said I couldn't see him... I felt like my world was ending.  And then, when he didn't try... I died a little every day."

 

"Did you ever try to see him?" A soft question, because oddly enough, this wasn't about son and father much anymore. It was about friends. "I mean, without your dad knowing?"

 

"Yes... I did.  Once.  I hitchhiked all the way to Metropolis."  Jonathan kept his eyes on his hands, studying his nails.  "I tried to get in to see him, but I was met with the cold shoulder by the staff, and was told that Master Luthor had said I was no longer to be admitted to the home and that any business I had was to be conducted through his personal secretary."  He swallowed hard.  "I didn't try after that."

 

"He did it because your dad told him you didn't want to talk to him anymore. Ever." A frown. "Dad, I'm not sure I like Grampa too much anymore." He changed the subject subtly, motioning a hand into the dark, cool air. "With me and Lex....we tried not to think about it. I mean...I...when I saved him from his car, it was right there, instant bang, like a part of the puzzle of me had slipped right into place. You know? I brought him back to life... he breathed because of me. And from then on... he stared at me a lot. Those kind of stares. Whenever we were in the same room, it would just... Lana used to say that we were like two high voltage batteries touching, and the sparks just about took form." He paused a moment. "But I was 15 at the time, he was 21. I wasn't old enough, even though I know you and mom lied on the adoption papers I knew you'd skin me alive for even considering it. So we waited...waited and waited, until… well. I couldn't take it anymore."

 

"Your Grampa Hiram was just doing what he thought was the right thing."  Jonathan listened in silence.  "I remember those sparks, Clark.  I remember them very well.  I know they're not easy to ignore."  He tilted his head back and rested it against the back of his son's head.  "You did well to resist them as long as you did; that definitely puts you one step in front of your old man."

 

"Not really." Cause the night when we did let them loose? Yes, well. Lex still had the bruises to prove for it. He changed the subject again, his brow furrowing at the middle. "Why did you marry mom, dad?"

 

Jonathan sighed.  "Because I love her.  As much as I loved Ly.  Just... in a different way.  She's good for me, Clark.  She makes me happy, and she makes me a better person.  I don't know that I make her happy, though."  He sighed.  "Especially when I do boneheaded things like what I did today."

 

And he winced. "She's pretty mad, huh?"

 

"She hasn't said a word since you left."

 

"Dad... she'd never leave you. You know that, right? She loves you more then the world, more then anything. When... when I was younger, right after she taught me English, she would talk to me about emotions. Remember, I couldn't get the differences in them? She would always keep the word "love" for her and you, and she would tell me all about how you guys met... I didn't understand at the time, but I do now. And... I'm sorry I hurt you guys like that. I gotta talk to her."

 

"I remember."  Jonathan sighed.  "You didn't hurt us, Clark.  I did."

 

"She's gonna go through that, "I'm not just throwing things at you because its fun" phase next, you know." His voice rang with love and amusement at it, because for as long as he could remember they'd done it... then made noises in the other bedroom he wasn't sure he liked thinking about right now… or, you know, ever.

 

"She's already done that, Clark.  I had a glass, four pillows, and God only knows what else thrown at me whenever I tried to talk to her."  Jonathan sighed.  "I told her... I told her that I was coming to talk to you, and not coming home until I had you with me.  And she said... that wouldn't fix everything."  He shook his head.  "But that's not your problem, son.  That's mine."

 

"Dad..." He turned on the car and took his dad's hand in his, squeezing hard. "Dad. It'll be okay. Things will be okay, you know? Sometimes these things happen to make our relationships stronger." And he didn't know what else to say, simple breathing in the cool night air.

 

Jonathan squeezed back.  "Yeah, son.  I know.  Like this.  With us.  I just... think I screwed up.  And I don't know how I'm going to fix it."

 

"I'll never forget tonight. Never." He didn't know it now, but he'd remember every word his father said one cold lonely night while flying over Metropolis and considering suicide. "Never, dad." He hugged him gently from behind. "Thank you for just being here. Knowing you understand what I'm going through… it means more to me then you know. I just...I wish you could have had the same thing. I love you, dad."

 

Jonathan returned his son's hug wholeheartedly.  "I love you too, son.  And I'm happy with my family now, don't ever think I'm not."

 

"I know, I never will." Though Lionel and Jonathan's story was bittersweet, and it hurt him to think about it. "Dad... I gotta get back to Lex. I'll call mom from the castle, okay? Stay out a while, give her time to cool down." He climbed off the truck and looked at his father amidst the jeans and flannel, t-shirt and coat and work boots. His nose shone red from the nip in the air, and he just smiled at his dad in the mirror image of Jonathan at his age. "For an old guy, you're pretty hip."

 

Jonathan nodded quietly.  He didn't express the quiet fear inside him that by the time he did get home, Martha wouldn't be there.  "Be careful, son.  Those two... they can get mean with each other.  Don't let them drag you into it."  That was his last piece of advice, and he smiled at his son.  "Don't you worry, Clark... things are gonna work out."  He laughed at the comment.  "Hip?  Well, thank you son, but... don't go puttin' me on the fashion train just yet.  Come home when you're ready.  And... take care of Lex."

 

"I will, dad, on both accounts." He rubbed his hands against his jeans. "It’s cold, dad. Go get some coffee, okay? I'll be home soon, and all three of us can talk." He leaned over to tie his boot a moment, and with a soft grin, he shot out of sight like a bullet.

 

Jonathan watched as Clark took off, and slid into the cab of the truck, cranking it with cold hands and turning the heater on full blast, warming the cold air in the cab. 

 

 

-fin-

 

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