The Memoirs

Dominic was passed out asleep.

He and his lover had spent a very pleasurable morning together. After two hours with Eddie, he and Lionel had a long, nice, hot soak in the bath, which had quelled some of the waves of pain coming from the knee that still looked horrid and mangled, but as Jaheel had assured, was slowly healing. His head had felt clear, his mood wonderful, and after eating a nice brunch, Dominic had settled in for a long nap.

A nap which was going on its third hour.

He hadn't slept well, not for anyone's fault, just that his body had been tense and unable to rest properly, especially with the pain killers going through his system. But right now? He felt incredible, and was dreaming the most wonderful, peaceful dreams imaginable.

God bless medication.

Lionel wasn't far; since Dominic had been napping, Lionel had taken the opportunity to move from bed to desk, looking over the legal brief he'd been emailed.

Diane Sawyer's network and her personal lawyers were willing to settle out of court, as they'd been all along, and they'd nearly doubled their offer. However, this latest offer included one more thing; a demand for an exclusive televised interview. If Lionel declined the offer, then they were now willing to go to court.

Which was ludicrous, because Lionel knew, even without benefit of legal counsel, that there was no way that the finding of the court would not be in his favor. They were desperate, and trying to save face, and Lionel was not in the mood for it.

He sighed explosively, sending the latest document to the printer on the far end of the desk to print out for a more thorough reading and note-taking session, and moved on to the next thing, still cursing under his breath.

The heavy sigh, and the tap against a keyboard, woke Dominic up. He shifted absently, turning his head a little and giving a soft, low sigh, before he opened his eyes and looked blearily up at the ceiling. The drapes were closed and the room was in near darkness, but it was wonderful. He was in bed beside his lover, who despite his frustration was sitting with him, and Dominic looked at him, studying him with heavy eyelids that wanted to fall again. "Mm."

At the little murmured noise Lionel looked up, and gave his lover a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Liar," Dominic said softly, but gave him a soft smile as he stretched his good hand up, yawning softly before exhaling and drooping like a languid puddle against the sheets. "What're you doing?"

"Taking care of a few legal matters," Lionel said easily. "My lawyers have emailed me several things needing our attention, and I'm printing them out so we can go over them together and make notations before we decide on a course of action."

"Mmm." Which was an easy enough noise. "You're so warm." And oh, God, he was. Cozy, just like that, lying next to him.

Lionel looked down at the thin slacks and thin shirt he wore. "It's nearly a hundred degrees outside. I would hope I am indeed warm."

"You're warm, and I'm cooold," he pretended to shiver, just to get Lionel close. "See? Freezing. Come here."

Lionel cocked an eyebrow as he left the brief to continue printing as he scooted closer to his lover. "You are not freezing. It's a physical impossibility. You're piled under enough blankets that I want to sweat simply looking at you."

A snort. "That's because I'm a sheared toothpick, and you're not." Which was incredibly true. and he used his hand to slide around his lovers body, murmuring in pleasure when his lover got close. "Like that. See? Now I'm not so cold." Well, he was, but no need to say anything about it. "What legal matters?"

Lionel sighed, kicking off his shoes as he got completely comfortable with his lover, gathering him as close as humanely possible. "I'm not sure your blood pressure could stand it. I'm quite sure, in fact, that if I told you, the top of your head would fly off in the explosion."

Dominic snickered, low in his throat. "Ever the master of the mental image. Come on now, what is it? Honestly, I won't flip out. I physically can't."

Lionel kissed the top of Dominic's head. "Diane Sawyer wants to do another interview with us."

Dominic burst out laughing.

Just... laughed.

"Oh, now that's a good one! Are you serious?!"

"Quite serious, in fact," Lionel replied. "So much so that her network is willing to revoke the out of court settlement and allow us to take them to court if we don't agree to the interview."

"Like we care. We could pay for a hundred different court cases, because we were in the right, and she was not. Oh, now that's rich. What a bitch." he glanced up at Lionel. "Unless you want to do an interview?"

"No, I don't. I most certainly do not." A quiet pause as he stroked through Dominic's hair, what had started to re-grow, at least. "Nor do I want all the hurtful and unpleasant information dredged up, especially now, when it might interfere with your recovery process, or the birth of our child, considering it was Ms. Sawyer's relentless harassment that caused our mother to flee in the first place."

"Which I'm actually quite glad for. I'd rather it were Toni then anyone else, but there's no need for Diane to know that," Dominic answered back, adoring the strokes across the fuzz on his head that was so pleasurable it made him close his eyes.

"I agree, but with Toni's history of miscarriages, despite the gynecologist's reassurances--and my son's--I would feel better if she were not stressed by this harridan re-entering our lives for any reason whatsoever."

"I most agree, love," Dominic murmured, against the underside of his lovers jaw. He kissed it, sleepily, the raspy feeling of Lionel's beard scraping his lips oddly nice. "If we can keep her out, that would be for the best."

"I know." He bent his head so that Dominic's kisses fell on his lips, instead of his beard. "But I have to balance that out with my concern for you, and how the stress of going through a public court trial, with the accompanying publicity, will affect you, your recovery, and our daughter's birth."

"I'm fine. I swear. Aurora is a different story, but please don't worry after me. I've got everything I need. I feel like I'm losing my mind, but I've got everything I need." Dominic kissed his lover back, the feeling odd, as he was definitely out of practice.

Lionel didn't speak for a few moments as he was busy sharing kisses with his cricket, but eventually sighed. "I'm worried for you all."

Dominic had the unmitigated gall to grin. "That's because you're a worry wart."

"Of course I am, but I have a family worth worrying for."

"As do I," Dominic said, albeit a bit more sleepily. He yawned, softly against his lovers neck, eyes crinkling shut as he did. "I wish I weren't so sleepy. I feel so weak all the time," Dominic murmured against Lionel's neck, even as his eyes closed and he said, in a very small voice, "I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"I know," Lionel said softly, pressing his lips to Dominic's temple. "And you won't for much longer. You'll be getting better soon."

Dominic didn't say anything for a moment, just gently tracing the line of strong muscle through the thin material of his lovers shirt. "I don't know if I will."

"I know you will," Lionel said firmly. "I refuse to entertain any other notion. I refuse to let you give up on yourself."

"I'm trying not to," Dominic smiled, even if his eyes felt like they were stinging. "I'm really trying not to. But you have no idea the depths of my helplessness unless you were in my shoes. At least after your car accident, my love, two months of your life weren't a blur and your legs weren't useless. At least you had your legs, and your dignity. You weren't carried around like a child, helped to the bathroom, helped to the shower, helped out of bed, helped up and down steps."

Lionel kissed his lover gently. "No. I was merely blind, unable to see anything, including my lover's face, knowing that I was nearly twenty five years older than him, and afraid that for the rest of my life, I was going to require him to lead me around, up and down steps, out of bed, into the bathroom, unable to do the work that I have been raised since my birth to do, unable to see anything, ever again." A quiet pause. "Of course I have no idea of the helplessness and uselessness you feel."

Dominic's body was hitching to keep the emotion tucked in close, and he gnawed on his lower lip as he set his head on his lovers shoulder and tried not to think about that as he struggled for calm composure.

"It's all right," Lionel murmured, pulling his lover close. "It's just going to take some time, that's all."

"I don't want it to take time. I want to hold my daughter, to rock her and carry her, to play with her. I can't, when I'm stuck in that goddamn bloody chair, can't even use my hand, nothing," Dominic grit out.

"I know." He kept his arms tightly around Dominic's waist. "I know you don't want to wait, but you must. Because there's no way that we can make it happen overnight."

"I wish it could," was all Dominic replied, quietly. The broad sweeps of his lovers palms, cupping his back, made him all too aware of the bones sticking out in his hips and shoulders, but were still gentle and loving in there own way. His scent, musky, yet purely Lionel, made him breathe him in deeply, relish in it, glory in it. He'd come so close to never having him again, that even the rasp of beard against his jaw and cheek as he rubbed his face to his partners, his husbands, was comfortable. It was safe, right here, right where he was, and to know he'd come so close to letting it go made him mildly sick around the middle.

He rose his good hand and used Lionel's shoulder as leverage, pulling himself a little onto his side, so he could hold onto his husband and set his head in the crook of a cozy arm.

Lionel leveraged himself around to Dominic's whim, pulling him close and stroking the back of his head as it nestled in his shoulder. "Not you but me," Lionel murmured fervently against his lover's scalp. "I wish it nearly as much as you do, I'd wager."

Dominic gently kissed the shoulder under his mouth, softly, as he wound his arm tightly around his lover to hold him close, just like this, where his bum legs could slide against his lovers slacks, where it was definitely okay to be comfortable, where Lionel's mouth was gently touching his nearly bare head. "I feel so violated, when I think about it too much."

"Then don't think about it too much," Lionel said.

He gave a choked laugh against his lovers shoulder. "Ever the optimist. I meant, about my head. Honestly, shaving off the little bit of hair I had left, and drilling holes into it. Bunch of barbarians."

Lionel laughed softly. "Shall I start calling the Hair Club for Men to arrange for a transplant? Would you like some of mine? Long, brown, and wavy?"

Dominic grinned upward, then, and the tension from just a few moments ago was gone. "I thought you'd prefer to have two bald men in your house. I think I'd make a fine looking bald man, you know, if I can get away with it now."

"Well, yes, that would make Enrique's job quite a bit easier. He'd only have one person's hair to dig out of the bathroom drain--mine."

"Eeeew. Lionel!" Dominic cried, thumping his lovers chest. "I didn't need to imagine that! Besides, mine is short--it doesn't get clogged anywhere." A smirk up at him, as he lay his head down again and reached up, to skim his fingertips over the bumps and ridges of the wounds that had been in his head, very visible against the blond of his hair, what little tiny bit of it there was. "I remember it happening, a little. As it was happening. There was yellow fluff falling everywhere, and there were a lot of people in the room. A doctor as well, who kept trying to talk to me, but it was terribly hard to speak." He studied the dark corners of his and Lionel's room. "I couldn't. Speak, that is. I tried, but my mouth wouldn't work. I remember, too, right after I fell, I suppose, because they were cutting up the tuxedo and I kept telling the nurses how angry you were going to be."

"They wouldn't let me be there," Lionel said softly. "Not surprisingly, I suppose, they didn't think it would be a good idea if I watched the procedure." His fingertips stroked over the scars next. "I could have cared less about the tuxedo." He leaned over to kiss the scars. "Just as long as they brought you back to me."

Dominic couldn't help a sardonic little snicker from the hollows of his husbands throat. "Toni said when the first burr went in it was like a geyser. My gross out power is in full working order, you realize." A glance upward. "I'm glad they didn't let you watch. Because I was still feeling a bit guilty about the tux. Thank God I showered. Could you imagine?" He rose his voice an octave, and mimicked, "Oh, dear God! There's semen all over his arse!"

Lionel gave a wan smile. "Toni came pelting out not long after that, sick to her stomach and white as chalk," he said, sliding his arms around Dominic so that his lover was tightly cradled. "I don't think that after they spoke with her, they would have been surprised to find anything on you."

"Poor Toni." Dominic frowned, though. "I'm sorry to have put you all through so much, Lionel. I didn't mean to, obviously." His voice got even more quiet. "Were you angry with me?"

"Was I... angry? Why would I be angry with you?" Lionel looked down quizzically.

"After the whole DNR came into light." Dominic said, quietly.

Lionel pondered, very quietly, and very long before he answered. "Yes, I was angry. Not because you'd had it ordered, but because you hadn't had it overturned. Because you were so worried with making sure there was nothing to do with you in my will, in my affairs, that you didn't care to take care of your own. But angry with you? No."

"I wish now I'd never signed it," Dominic murmured into his lovers skin. "I had it done when I turned eighteen, with my brother and Gideon, because we wanted all of our affairs in order should anything ever happen to us. Of course at the time it was a bit of a lark, trying to feel adult and what have you." He gently nibbled on his lovers shoulder. "I love you. You found the Hawaiian shirts. You looked for them. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"It was what you wanted of me," Lionel said simply. "I wouldn't deny you." And that was his answer for it all. Dominic had wanted it, and that was enough for him.

He beamed, quietly, against his shoulder. "I shouldn't find it romantic, but unfortunately it is."

And he would have said more, if he hadn't suddenly lifted his head, using his lover as leverage and cried, "Freddie!"

His kitty had been hiding from him for days. He'd refused to get close, and all Dominic had seen were brief snatches of the little thing. Not that he was little anymore. He'd gained at last three pounds and a couple of inches, and had the raggedy appearance of a cat about to leave infancy. "Hey, Freddie, baby!"

Freddie gave a sneeze as he looked up at Dominic, cuddled up in the big bed like he was supposed to be. His whiskers twitched as the big stupidhead called his name, and he sneezed again, padding up towards his head.

Dominic was absolutely delighted. He pushed up from his lover as much as he could, elbow shaking, and moved enough to allow Freddie some room without letting his lover go. "Hallo, love. Its been ages and ages, hasn't it?" he gently stroked velvety ears, and rubbed behind them just to see if he could get the kitty to purr. "I did miss you, love. Aren't you looking like a fetching young man."

Freddie let himself be petted, and sniffed the hand petting him. A third sneeze, because the hand smelled sick, but it was still the same big stupidhead, and since he was finally back where he belonged, Freddie plopped all three pounds of himself on Dominic's hip and started to purr. Loudly. His tail flicked as his little eyes glowed as he demanded treats with a popping of his jowls.

Dominic could'nt have been more pleased. Something hot and happy welled in his heart as the little thing plunked down on top of him, and he gently began to stroke his soft, tangle-free fur, rubbing his paws, his ears, the itchy spot behind his neck, gently. "Oh, aren't you a handsome thing. I did miss you, darling, and I'm so happy to know your other daddy didn't have you done in and skinned into a nice fur hat or something." He scritched Freddie's ears.

"He's been rather skittish around me since I kicked him and threw things at him," Lionel confessed sadly.

Dominic's eyes widened. "You didn't."

"I did, and Clark took me sharply to task for it."

Dominic gave a little smug smile. "Good." Even as he gently stroked Freddie's ears, he looked up at Lionel, and was silent for just a moment, before he said lightly to his kitten, "I do wish someone would stroke me for a change. Though my own master has said a big old 'no', without any regard to the medication that is in fact resuming all testosterone levels back to normal and causing terribly frightful reactions. Aren't you glad you're a cat, love."

"A cat that we are going to be taking to Clark's vet shortly to be fixed, as he's nearly old enough," Lionel said, skillfully ignoring the rest of the comment. "Shall we take you in to be fixed as well?"

"You might as well, as its not nearly long enough to be a fifth limb, and lord knows I need all the help I can get," Dominic shot back just as skillfully.

"Oh, I don't know," Lionel answered, reaching over to let Freddie sniff his fingers. "I've heard it called a third leg before."

Freddie sniffed the fingers, and as soon as he placed the scent as the Kicker, he laid his ears back along his skull and hissed.

Lionel snatched his hand back.

Dominic smirked.

Broadly.

"Freddie agrees. As for it being a third leg, that title goes over to our own Clark J. Kent," he murmured, even as he kept gently stroking Freddie, to get his hackles down. "Shhhh, love, it's alright, shhh."

Freddie kept his ears roached back until Dominic petted him, and he slowly let his fur bristle down and his ears prick back up normally as he just gave a kitten glare to Lionel.

"He's not happy with you. See what you've done? You've made an enemy of our cat, you vicious bastard," Dominic murmured, and gently tucked Freddie up a little more as he sideglanced Lionel.

"I was in quite a bad mood and he would not leave me alone," Lionel said, pulling his hand back as Freddie kept glaring at him. "But at least he still likes you."

"Of course he does," Dominic murmured, still looking at his lover out of the corner of his eye. "You aren't going to touch me until I can move again, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Lionel said.

And here was The Pout. "Whyever not?"

"Because you could be hurt, over-extended, and set back your recovery by draining energy and resources that could be used in other pursuits--namely, your therapy."

The Pout intensified to the Sullen Sniffle. "I'd tell you if it hurt, you know."

"No, you wouldn't, because you would know that I'd never do it again, and rather than risk that, you would keep the pain to yourself." Lionel's elevated eyebrow dared his lover to challenge that.

"You're saying that like I haven't already brought myself to orgasm."

"What you do to yourself is your own business." A little glare. "I will not add to that stress on your body."

A sniff. "You were supposed to say when I had. Which I hadn't. Haven't. The medicine is doing bloody terrible on me, love, but every time I try I lose steam." Another little look to match the glare, and his eyelashes fell. "Please?"

"I will speak to Eduard about it tomorrow, and if he believes that it is all right and will not hurt you, then we shall."

Dominic's eyes widened. "You are not talking to that boy-man about my sexual urges, Lionel."

Lionel's gaze remained steady. "If you wish me to do anything to alleviate them, yes, I am."

Oh, Dominic knew Lionel was baiting him, because he was obviously very aware of Dominic's low threshold for mortal embarrassment right now. However, if it meant Lionel's mouth was on his cock, then did it matter? Really? He felt a blush light his cheeks, hotly. "Alright, then."

Lionel leaned over and licked the line of his lover's blush.

Oh. At that he felt his skin flush, and swallowed as he looked away, blushing even harder as the heat from Lionel's lick penetrated clear down to the bone. Muh.

Lionel sucked along Dominic's cheekbone, following the line of the blush as he smiled and straightened once he'd nibbled lightly at the very top of Dominic's throat.

Dominic moaned, softly, eyelashes fluttering closed as he moved his cheek toward Lionel's little touches, and then lurched a little when Lionel let go. He cleared his throat, still blushing furiously as he cleared his throat, realizing at once that Freddie had moved down to the edge of the bed again. Alright. He cleared his throat, his voice squeaking terribly before he did it, and tried for a, "Well."

"A deep hole in the ground," Lionel teased.

"Usually," he managed, swallowing hard and rubbing his cheek absently, as his limp fingers twitched a little, still unable to look at Lionel, and only shyly gazed at the wall across from them.

Lionel's fingers caught his lover's chin and made Dominic look at him. "Soon," Lionel promised.

Dominic's eyes flickered up. "Mmm." And then he shifted nervously away, still blushing hotly. "Will you help me get up? My back is aching."

"Of course I will." Lionel moved back just enough to get maneuvering room, and helped to slide Dominic up into a sitting position. "Would you like to move to your chair?"

"Yes, please. I might go downstairs a bit, if its alright with you," Dominic answered, and when Lionel helped him push up to sitting, his back creaked and he winced, before sighing softly.

"I don't mind at all." He was in the midst of pulling Dominic back up to entirely upright, before moving to the chair, when the phone rang. He reached out, and held the phone to his lover. "Here, Dominic. Answer the phone while I get you moved."

"Mmm." He winced again and grasped Lionel's shirt, in case Lionel lost his balance and pitched them both over, before turning the phone on and setting it to his hear. "Dominic Luthor."

"Dominic?" Alexis' voice was little more high-pitched than usual. "Just the man I wanted to talk to."

"Nothing good ever came from those words," Dominic muttered, drolly, as Lionel lifted him, and he had to let go to hold the phone, just for a moment as he pushed it in the crook of his shoulder. "Whats up?"

"We... uh... Clark and I are at the hospital. We met Chloe and Whitney and Shayla here earlier, and... well... we need you down here. There's um..." Alexis let it trail off. "We need your signature on these admission forms."

Dominic fell silent, for a moment. Chloe, Whitney, Shayla. "What's she done now?" He asked, calmly, even as he looked up a hairsbreadth from Lionel's eyes, in horror. "Is she okay?"

Lionel tightened his grip on his lover as he transferred Dominic carefully to the wheelchair. "Your sister?"

Alexis shook her head. "We... we're not sure, actually. Chloe... Whitney... they seem to think she's been binging and purging. The ER doctor's re-hydrating her right now, with an IV. But they need to admit her, while they do some blood tests... Dominic... they think she might be developing bulimia."

Dominic closed his eyes, as a headache formed right between his eyes. Lovely. Thinking about sex one moment, and his sister, possibly with bulimia, the next. "Christ. We'll be there in about twenty minutes, alright?"

Alexis nodded. "I didn't... I didn't want to tell you until we knew something for sure, but we can't admit her without your signature, because she won't admit herself, and you're responsible for her."

"Don't panic, love. We'll be there soon, not to worry. Give us about twenty minutes, to thirty minutes, so Lionel can get the wheel chair clunked about, mmm?" he looked up at his lover. "Shayla's in the hospital, the doctors think she might be bulimic, love."

"Panic? Me? Never." Alexis gave a little grin. "Okay. We'll be waiting for you in the ER lobby." She hung up the phone, and leaned against the wall, thudding her head gently.

Lionel straightened quickly. "That's... never a good thing. We'll call Elaine from the car, and see if she can work Shayla into her schedule now."

Dominic, of whom didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry, laughed instead, rolling his eyes at his partner. "With the way we use her services, we should offer her a cottage right off in the backyard."

"I already did offer her a two-year lease on one of the townhouse apartments here in town, but she turned me down, saying she preferred the commute so that she could keep her practice open in Metropolis, at least for now, even though she is not actively seeing any patients."

"That's because we're hoarding her, darling. Poor dear. I can imagine how frustrating I must get, especially with us two old--ow!" He hissed it, as a muscle twisted in his knee. "Shit. Fuck. Ow."

"Be still," Lionel ordered as he finished tightening the restraints and the belts around Dominic's waist. "Stop fidgeting; we'll be moving as quickly as we can, don't worry."

He let out a long breath through the pain, his eyes tearing with it as he reached down with his free hand to rub at it. "it's so bloody sore."

"I know it is," Lionel said helplessly. "I wish there were something more that I could do for you, but you are already at your limit of medication for it already."

"Lovely. I wish they still had me hooked up to the morphine--what a fabulous drug," Dominic muttered between clenched teeth, as Lionel finished belting him in. "Come on, love. I'll drive."

Lionel snickered softly. "Yes, you will drive, all the way downstairs, and out to the garage, at which time I will take over all driving responsibilities."

He flashed a grin up at his lover, all teeth and dimples. "You mean to tell me you don't approve of my driving prowess, Lionel?"

Lionel just grinned in return. "When you can reach the pedals again? Then I'll let you behind the wheel of the car."

"Oh, I'm just thin, I haven't shrunk. Not a lot, anyhow." but then he gave a very quiet, very deep, sigh. "What the bloody hell do you think my sister was thinking, love? She's been thin, I noticed, but throwing up?" He rubbed his eyes with one hand, then remembered, "Grab my glasses there on the night table, please?"

"I honestly don't know." Lionel handed Dominic his glasses, then picked up his own. "She's probably been worried about you, and not reacting well to it, but I have honestly no further idea than that."

Dominic pushed the glasses onto his nose and behind his ears, before he took the little joystick and motioned his head. "Come on. Grab your briefcase love, just in case. You still have all the legal guardian paperwork, right?"

"Yes, I do, fresh from the lawyer's office. And your mother's arm didn't even have to be broken to sign it. Whatever you said to her, definitely cowed her into submission." He picked up his briefcase, and slid it into the basket on the back of Dominic's wheelchair.

"I feel terrible over it," Dominic said softly, but shook his head firmly. "You push, love. Ive a feeling Im going to need all my strength."

- = - = -

Shayla looked down at the needle taped into her elbow, then followed the clear tube up to the plastic bag of saline hanging from the IV stand beside her. She didn't know what all else was in there, but she felt like they'd taken all the blood out of her veins to go off and test, and more doctors than she ever wanted to face paraded in and out in front of her. Her friends were around the bed, but she didn't look at them quite yet.

Alexis slid back into the room, and tapped Clark on the shoulder. "I just talked to Dominic," she said quietly. "He and Dad are on the way, but I need Pete's phone number; I don't know it, but I need to call him."

"That's fine," Clark answered from his slouch by Shayla's bed. He'd had enough of sitting by sick beds to last him a long time, but he nevertheless pulled a scrap of paper out of his wallet, borrowed the pen from the chart on Shay's bed, and wrote out, '599-4921' for his lover on it, before hanging it over.

Chloe was sniffling. A lot. her eyes were rimmed with red and blood shot, and she couldn't stop sniffling and looking generally terribly sorry for herself, with various hiccupped sobs and clenches on her lovers arm.

Whitney was sitting close beside his girlfriend, holding her tightly against his side and murmuring softly to her as he rocked her.

"Thanks," Alexis said, gripping the scrap of paper tightly in her hand. "I'm going to call him and I'll be right back. I'll let Dad and Dom call the rest of her family." She leaned over Clark, bracing on his shoulder, and kissed Shayla on the forehead.

She disappeared out the room then, dialing Pete quickly and leaning against the wall.

Life in the Ross household was a nightmare. Honestly. Kids were screaming, music was blaring, BJ and his boyfriend were downstairs with his mother--who'd just found out her son was gay and was dating a very wealthy doctor--and Pete was sprawled on his bed, his earphones on with rock music blaring out so loudly he was sure he was going to be partially deaf when he pulled them off his ears.

Even so, he felt the vibration going off on his cell and dug it out of his pocket, peering at the number. He didn't recognize it, but answered it anyway. "Lo?"

Alexis cleared her throat. "Pete? It's A--Lex. I don't... you need to come to the hospital, the emergency room. Shayla's in one of the cubicles here, and we're waiting for Dominic to come so he can admit her, at least for a couple of days."

Pete got up so fast he fell out of the bed, his free arm wind milling as the curve of his pelvis hit the ground. His lamp fell into a pile of dirty laundry, thank God, but he wasn't so blessed when his soda hit him on the head and exploded orange everywhere. He sighed, deeply, even as he righted the can. "Is she okay? Is she hurt?"

"We don't know yet. Right now, they've got her on an IV, to re-hydrate her. And they're running a few blood tests now. Chloe and Whitney caught her throwing up this afternoon, and they're testing her for bulimia." Never a conversation Alexis thought she'd ever have, especially with this young man. "But they don't know for sure yet, if it's just a bug that's made her stomach upset or what it is, because she isn't talking." A pause. "Which makes them pretty sure what it actually is in the first place."

Pete buried his face in his hands. He'd been right. He'd suspected it for weeks, but he hadn't been sure, and Shay had been so testy lately, and something like guilt lodged beneath his breastbone. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"We'll be waiting for you. If she's been moved to a room, either Clark or Chloe or I will meet you downstairs so you'll know where we are," she answered, pausing softly. "We'll see you when you get here."

"Okay." Pete hung up, and exhaled deeply as he climbed to his feet, shoved his feet into some tennis shoes, and changed his soda-spilled shirt before he nicked his keys and went pounding down the steps.

Alexis hung up the phone, and took a deep, calming breath before she went back into the little cubicle with the others, and settled on Clark's lap. "I called Pete, and he's on his way," she said quietly, looking at her sha'nauch, and then at Shayla.

Clark, for his part, felt his eyes widen as he whispered under his breath, "Lex? Baby? Everyone else can see you as a guy," he pressed his lips to his lovers neck. "Sit beside me.:"

"Right," she said, sliding immediately off his lap and into the chair beside the bed, crossing her legs and tucking her hands between them. "Sorry. I keep forgetting."

Whitney would have been slightly amused if Chloe hadn't been still sobbing into his shoulder, and if... well, yeah, Shayla was his friend, and it was never a good thing to see a friend lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV.

"It's okay. You just have a little bit of a rep to uphold," Clark murmured in her ear, before looking sadly at Shayla. "Shay, how are you feeling?"

Chloe was still sniffling, and trembling, and just basically looked like a bloody wreck, but she tried not to say anything as she sniffled and shuddered out little breaths.

"Yeah, a masculine one," she said with a little snort.

Shayla didn't answer, just kept her head turned as she stared at the furthest blank little cubicle wall.

"It's okay, you know. Chloe and Whitney and I have dealt with this before… Lana Lang did it, our freshmen year. I dunno if Chloe's told you about her?" Clark asked, gently.

Still no answer, and Shayla just closed her eyes.

Whitney answered for her. "Yeah. Chloe's told her about Lana."

"Remember, Lana had that terrible eating problem, for a while? After the whole thing with you and her breaking up, then getting back together, and all? She was throwing up all the time." Clark answered, still watching Shay as he said it.

"Yeah, I remember," Whitney nodded. "She was in the damn apartment above the Talon all the time, yacking her guts up and I was stupid enough not to think anything was wrong."

"She wasn't as discreet about it as our Shayla, though," Clark said, quietly. "Nor did we like Lana much at all, while we love Shayla very, very much. She's part of our group now, and all, and there probably isn't anything we wouldn't do for our sha'nuke, now is there?"

"That's right," Alexis said suddenly, leaning forward. "Take it from me, Shayla, Lana was not the most popular person around. But you are. Despite the fact that you hide in the walls of my castle like a little rodent, and despite your penchant for spying on me when I'm having sex with Clark, I like you, and so do the rest of us. We're not going to give up on you."

Whitney nodded. "That's right. We're not. None of us are, not me, not Chloe, and I'm going to venture a guess and say not even Pete, who's on his way over to see what you've gotten your skinny ass into now."

At the mention of Pete's name, Shayla turned on her side and winced as the needle shifted in her arm when she pulled the sheet up over her hip.

"Mmm. Denial. Anger, sha'nuke." Clark said, wisely, and arched a brow at the skinny line of her back. "Nice panties," he said all too cheerfully, at the shiny sparkles of the waist band he could just see.

Shay jerked the sheet up further, hiding the waistband, and her lower back, from view.

"Too late, already got an eyeful. Not that its helping me any, as I'm sure you realized I could overhear, as I'm super manly and super human. thanks, by the way, about talking about the size of my erections." Chloe gasped under Whitney's arm, and Clark graced her blond head with an arched brow.

"And super gay," Alexis mumbled teasingly.

"And super gay," Clark sighed, even as he smiled shyly at his lover, but just a little, as he looked back toward Shay. "Come on, sweetie. Talk to me?"

"Go away." First thing she'd said since they'd brought her in and hooked her up to the IVs.

"I don't want to go away, sorry. What else?" He rose a brow. "I thought you and I were alright, and we could talk, Shay."

"I don't want to talk. Go away."

Clark sighed, and looked toward his lover, motioning toward the door. "Alright, Shay. I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee with Lex, kay? Whit, Chloe, want anything?"

Whitney shook his head; what he wanted they didn't have in the cafeteria. "No, I'm fine, but Chloe?" He nudged her gently. "Baby, do you want something to drink? Juice, maybe?"

Chloe gave a hard hiccup from below her lovers shoulder and held tight to him, biting on her lip tightly and keeping her eyes closed. "No," she muffled from it, plugged and horrible sounding.

Yeah, well, Clark would bring her something anyway. "Alright, honey. Come on, Lex."

Alexis uncrossed her legs, leaning over the side of the bed and kissing Shayla's cheek. "Talk to us when we get back, Shay. We're just worried." She followed Clark out of the hospital room, tamping down the urge to slide her hands down the back of his jeans, just for reassurance.

Clark heard the thought and he turned, winding an arm around his aushna's waist and holding him close, as they walked together toward the elevators. "Shhh. It's alright, honey. Shay's just... we were expecting this, weren't we? She's been acting crazy."

"Yeah, she has been. I just didn't expect it to be this of all things." She slipped her arms around Clark's waist at that, and let her head rest on his shoulder. "I just thought she was having a nervous stomach, maybe an ulcer, because of Dominic."

Clark shook his head. "She's been acting wonky, Lex. Puts my eating habits to shame--I haven't been able to find a Twinkie in our house since July."

Alexis made a face. "You're still eating those things. They're horrible for you." Her nose wrinkled.

"Lex, look at who you're talking to," Clark grinned down at her, as he led them both to the elevators, and after hitting the call button, climbed into one of them.

"Clark! Hold that elevator," boomed a thundering voice across the lobby as a tall, dark-haired man loped across the tiled floor, dressed in a pair of Clark's jeans and a sweater.

Clark automatically held the elevator, because it wasn't very odd that someone knew his name, especially not in the hospital, but when he looked up and saw the much older version of himself racing after him, his mouth literally dropped. "Father?!"

Jor-El gave a curt little nod as he joined them in the elevators, and waited for the doors to close.

With two people Clark's size in the carriage, the little car seemed cramped as it started to climb up. "Yes, I am your father, the last time I checked," he said with a grin.

Alexis' jaw dropped. "Um... okay, obviously, but..."

"How the hell are you able to leave the house?!" Clark cried, eyes wide even as he embraced his father tightly. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you! What a joyous sight!"

Jor-El embraced his son tightly, and then Alexis in turn. "I realized, as I was searching through the computer on the ship, that the answer to that question had been in front of us the entire time." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular piece of metal, no larger than a personal Walkman. "This is the heart of the mechanism, my son, and the home of the power source. As long as I carry this on my person, I am allowed complete mobility, as you can see."

Clark beamed. He… beamed. So hard he was sure the sun had opened up in the elevator. "Really?" But he didn't ask again, as he reached forward and hugged his father again, tightly. "Father, this is wonderful, how wonderful. I want you to see everything you can!"

"Yes, really." Jor-El returned the hug tightly. "I will see everything, Kal-El, I assure you, but I am here because of your aushna', to be honest." He turned towards Alexis. "I believe that I have found a solution to your problem."

"Oh that's... that's very good," Clark answered, beaming at his lover, then back up. "What do we have to--" he stopped, then, when the elevator stopped to let doctors in, and he shook his head a little at his father as he quieted.

Jor-El nodded. "I was sorry to hear that your friend was in the hospital, Clark, and I came as soon as I heard," he said conversationally. "If there is anything I can do, you have only to let me know and it will be done."

"That's fine. Would you like a cup of coffee, now that you're here?" he asked, when the elevator stopped again, and he held it open for them to pass through. the doctors, one of whom Clark recognized as the man who'd treated Dominic toward the end, walked in, and Clark waited until his lover and his father had stepped out.

Jor-El grimaced. "No, thank you, Clark, but hot tea would not be amiss," he said with an incline of his head, following Lex out of the elevator and over towards the cafeteria.

Alexis gave a little laugh. "Trust me, Jor--dan, you'll be much better off with the coffee, because I seriously doubt the tea is anything close to fresh."

"In that case, I will bow to your and Clark's superior tastes in the matter."

"God, he sounds like Lionel," Clark grinned, winding an arm around his father's shoulder as a cell phone trilled from the doctors who'd just gotten off the elevator, and he led his lover and father toward the little cafe where they could get a hot cup of lighter fluid.

And he would have said more if he suddenly didn't hear his father in laws name.

Jaheel didn't consider himself a pleasant man. A fair man, yes. A noble man, of course. But a nice one? No, surely not. He was an excellent practitioner in his field, and was rich beyond imagining, but who, who would turn down three million dollars? Honestly? That's what he told himself everyday, to suffer through the thoroughly horrid phone calls every week, usually while he was on fucking duty. "Hello."

"Hello, Braham." The voice on the other end of the phone was clipped and cultured, heavy with a British accent. "I see that the newspapers are still trying to get pictures of the poor crippled Mr. Dominic Luthor. You've done quite well."

"Indeed, I have, did you think otherwise?" Jaheel snapped, as he moved his phone call out onto the terrace, where it was much too warm for anyone to stay for prolonged periods of time, thus making it quite deserted.

"No, no, I haven't, just calling to let you know that I think you have done a superb job, and to gather my weekly status report on our favorite patient."

"Hmmph." Little bastard. "He's weak. I've still got him on the nerve suppressants and muscle relaxants, so the pain in his knee won't give what I did away. Oh, it'll deteriorate--he won't walk again. Luthor will be too busy taking care of him when it grows gangrenous to be of any use to LuthorCorp, and with the littlest Luthor out of the way, I believe the company will be ripe for the picking. I'm assured my next million, correct?"

There were audible keystrokes on the other end of the line. "Oh, that's excellent news, excellent. You've been such an excellent butcher, Dr. Jaheel. Your money has just been deposited into the regular accounts, and there's a rather sizeable bonus added for your good work. I'm quite pleased."

"I thought you might be," Jaheel sneered. "I also added a little bit of depressants to the cocktail, so he's being a right little bastard at this point, and making poor little Lionel all sad," He smirked. "I'm catching my flight to Cuba tomorrow, I'm assured you will wait to contact me until my arrival?"

"Oh, of course, of course. You'll be greeted just as we've arranged before." The man's voice was laden with a smirk. "If those arrangements are still agreeable to you."

"Mmm," Jaheel smiled back. "Is there anything else you wanted to know, or could I go back to being a respectable doctor until I mysteriously disappear?"

"Just one more thing; it's been reported to me that they've hired a physical therapist? How is that going to impact the... course of treatment that you've laid out?"

"None at all. Sir Harry, the tendons aren't connected to the bone as they should be--the muscle won't recuperate, nor will it in his shoulder. His left side will be practically useless, until they begin to rot from the lack of blood circulating through it. In another four months, he'll oh so terribly lose both limbs, and truly be bed bound."

Harry Hardwick smiled on the other end of the phone. "That's perfect, Doctor. That's just what I wanted to hear." Harry hung up on the doctor, and stared at the computer in front of him, tapping his fingertips together. Lionel Luthor had taken the most important things in his life--his business, and his daughter.

Now it was Lionel's turn to lose.

 

-fin-

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