The Memoirs

Clark shuddered and lay back against the seat, closing his eyes as they sped on...too fast, too fast, "Too fast." He muttered. He closed his eyes for just a moment...then gasped as he hit gravel, opening his eyes to see a pair of very small legs rushing down wooden steps.

 

Petite, small...holding a dish rag in her hand, Martha Kent watched the scene unfold before her like a nightmare. Her son, her baby, on the ground. Bald, handsome, pulling at the heavy arms of her baby as the young mans face looked at her pale as a sheet. She dropped the rag, turning back into the house, and screamed at the top of her voice. "Jonathan!"  A second later she vaulted down the steps, tears fogging her vision as terror lit her heart. "Lex! Lex, what happened?! Lex!"

 

His mom. It was his mom. He struggled to help his lover, to get to his feet, but the meteor rocks were eating through him like an acid, and he groaned helplessly. "M… mom.."

 

"Thank God!" Lex shouted over the din of his car alarm.  With one casual gesture he flipped it off, and moved back to cradle Clark.  "There was an explosion at the crap factory; Clark was inside when it blew.  He saved the life of my father's drone and I think he inhaled meteor dust."  Lex hit the important highlights.  "I didn't know he was in there, or that he was this allergic to the rocks.  But he insisted on being brought here, and I didn't take the time to argue."  Lex dropped his eyes to his lover, hoping that the lie was convincing enough.

 

Jonathan came pounding down the steps as the cacophony started, and he seethed when he took in the situation.  "You get the hell away from my boy, Luthor!"  He flew down the stairs and knocked Lex back into the car door, away from Clark.

 

She slapped her husbands arm hard, glowering at him with that mom hawk eye that could freeze the blood in her children's veins. And usually her husbands as well. She plucked at her son as he struggled to stand, grasping his waist with a petite arm and the thick, burly sausage arm over her shoulders. "Lex, help me get him inside."

 

Jonathan glowered and shoved Lex out of the way again, picking up Clark's feet and helping Martha get the boy into the house.  Lex tried to follow, but Jonathan stood in the doorway.  "You think I'm letting you in this house, boy?"

 

"I know you are, Mr. Kent.  Because frankly, there's nothing in this world that's going to keep me from being by my friend's side when he needs me."  With that said, he shoved past Jonathan, going to kneel beside Clark and Martha.  "What can I do?  I'll do... anything."

 

"Get me some water, Lex...Jonathan!" She looked up at her seething husband with fury in her eyes. "Swallow your pride and get me the damn medicine! It's upstairs in my cabinet, the blue bottle, hurry!" She looked down at her son then, stretched out right there in the hallway, his chest heaving as his eyes swum a sickly, unnatural green. "Hurry Jonathan, hurry!"

 

Lex jumped to his feet, moving quickly to the sink as he filled one of the large glasses with water, and brought it back to her side.  "Here... I'll hold his head.  You get the water into him."

 

Jonathan glared at Lex, and then hurried up the stairs to their bathroom, and sorted rapidly through their medicine cabinet until his hands closed around the requested blue bottle.  Clutching it tightly, Jonathan sprinted back down the steps and put the bottle in his wife's hands.

 

He was fading, she could see it. Her fingers grasped the bottle, pulling out a single black pill, and pressed it into her son's mouth, watching his eyes get wide and his body flail and shudder. "Hold him, Lex!" a tip of the glass and he choked the pill down, and her fingers grasped his head tightly as he began to shake. Trembles, hard, wracking moans.

 

Screams.

 

Lex pressed down tightly on Clark's shoulders.  "What the hell is that?"  He threw his entire weight into holding the boy down, and even Jonathan threw his weight on top of Clark's lower body.  "Martha!!"

 

The shaking reached its peak, shuddering violently before slowly slowing... slowing... stopping. He lay still under the three bodies holding him down, eyes open and glassy but...painless. His muscles all relaxed and he swallowed reflexively, feeling his mother turn him a little....the meteor rocks were liquefied and a dark color in a puddle under his body, slick against his clothes.

 

"Clark?"  Lex rubbed his back, his shoulder, anything that he could reach.  "Clark... say something.  Please." 

 

Jonathan glared.  "You mind telling me what you did to my boy that got him in this state, Luthor?"

 

"'m...." A croak. "I'm okay. Okay. Yeah..." He sat up slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat hard...but the violent need to puke was gone, as was the nausea and the pain. It was gone, and he felt his strength returning. "I'm fine. I'm okay. God." He dropped his head and rubbed his face.

 

"Let me get you a blanket honey, hold on." Martha disappeared upstairs, tiny body bustling.

 

Lex kept his hand on Clark's back, rubbing.  "I didn't do anything, Mr. Kent.  Nothing except bring him here.  If you've been listening to the news, you'd have heard that my plant was destroyed this afternoon; Clark was inside and he saved a man's life.  When I found him, he was carrying Dominic out of the destruction and was sick like this."  He didn't remove his hand or his presence from his lover's side.

 

Clark noticed, and met his fathers eyes with residual pain as he climbed slowly to his feet, his back soaked with dark green and black, the floor holding what was left of it. "Dad, he's telling the truth. I breathed it in...swallowed it. I was coughing and throwing up." He said it sadly, like a little boy with his first stomach flu. "Lex got me here." He turned and his eyes were shining with secret love.

 

"I wouldn't have failed you, Clark.  You're my friend."  His eyes met Clark's, returning the love-filled gaze with one of his own. 

 

"Son, if you did breathe it in, then there's only one way that it could have gotten there, and that's if the Luthors put it there."

 

Lex bristled.  "Mr. Kent, I know what you are implying, and all I can do is assure you that I didn't put anything in that factory other than cow shit."

 

"Eloquently put." He murmured, and looked at his father.  "Dad...whatever it was, it was particalized. Why would anyone keep particles of Meteor rock? Okay? Whatever it was, it was either there in the first place or in the cow poo anyway."  ....meaning he'd breathed in cow poo? Eww!

 

Jonathan shook his head, mind made up.  "Son, you're sittin' in the proof of it right there.  You sucked the proof of it down your throat and puked it back up again."  A vicious spike of malicious pleasure rolled through Jonathan at the thought of Lex's expensive car covered with Clark's vomit.

 

"Mr. Kent, I've long suspected that your son has an allergy to those rocks.  Why would I deliberately do something that would make him ill?"  He hadn't realized it, but his hand had moved to stroke Clark's hair as they spoke.

 

And Clark had moved into it.

 

It was the first thing that Martha saw when she stepped off the last step of the stairs....Lex's fingers in Clark's hair. Gentle, tender strokes, and it finally clicked for her. She'd known all along, but finally having proof was like a breath of fresh air. And Clark... her precious son was leaning his head in to let Lex stroke, and it reminded her of herself and Jonathan, so many years ago.

 

She paused, swallowed, and kept walking as if nothing had happened. "I found a blanket, honey." She draped it over her son's shoulders and stepped to stand beside her husband. "C'mon, let's get some water… come on."

 

Jonathan glared from the two boys sitting together on the floor to his wife, and sullenly allowed her to pull him from the room.  "I don't want that Luthor near my son again," was the first words out of his mouth.  "Somehow, Clark always ends up gettin' hurt."

 

"Jonathan." Firm, but gentle. "Can’t you see?"

 

"I'll tell you what I see, Martha.  I see a Luthor trying to use a Kent for his own reasons, and I'm not gonna let what happened to me happen to my boy in there."

 

"Oh, Jonathan." How could she say this, without destroying her husband's perception of their baby? No other way then the truth. "They're in love. Lex isn't using him...he's loving him."

 

"Luthors don't know how to love, Martha.  You know that as well as I do."

 

She glared at him.

 

His parents had only been out of the room a second before he sagged against his lover. Pressed him in, hugging him tightly as he could, whispering mindless whispers of love in the small ear. "Lex, Lex I'm sorry, love you, love you Lex, I'm sorry."

 

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark, cradling him close.  "No... you have nothing to be sorry for, Clark."  He kept his fingers buried in Clark's hair, refusing to think about how close he'd come to losing his lover.  "I love you too, Clark, so much."  He pressed soft kisses to Clark's slick forehead.  "It's okay.  We're together now."

 

Jonathan glared back at his wife.

 

She opened the door a crack silently, willing him to look, the eagle eye dark and unforgiving.

 

"Love you, love you, I...Dominic! Your father, you were hitting each other! Are they okay Lex?" He looked at him in fear, cradling him close.

 

"Everything's okay, Clark.  My father and I were just having an argument, that's all.  They're okay; Dominic's on his way to the hospital, I'm sure my father is making the lives of the hospital staff miserable until they give him what he wants.  All is well."  He pressed more soft kisses to Clark's face, brushing one over his lips.  "Don't worry.  You saved his life, Clark."

 

Jonathan cringed under the eye of his wife, and let himself be dragged to the crack in the door.  His stomach churned as he saw Lex and Clark, clinging tightly to each other, whispering and kissing each other.  The gentle caress of Lex's fingers in Clark's hair, the soothing touch of Lex's hand on Clark's back, all things bespoke a great deal of caring, and Jonathan refused to acknowledge it.  "He's sucking Clark in," Jonathan hissed quietly to his wife.  "Sucking him in until whatever happens happens."

 

"No, Clark.  No.  You did everything you could and then some.  You can't be expected to do everything.  Listen to me, love... I don't care about the factory; the fucking thing can turn to rubble.  The important thing here is you.  Is that you're well.  That's what matters."

 

Jonathan's face hardened.  "And my father turned out to be right.  Lionel didn't care.  He didn't try to see me.  He didn't try to contact me.  Dad took me out of his life, and Lionel let me be cut out.  I'm not going to have Clark go through that same pain, Martha.  Not going to watch him get involved with a man who's only going to hurt him."

 

"Love you." A soft murmur, dragging his fingertips over Lex's lower lip before leaning in and taking a kiss. "Love you. So much."

 

"Can you be sure? Can you be sure Lex will do the same thing? Look at them, Jonathan. Look. Love like that can’t be forced or pretended. It can’t be faked. He dragged our son from the site of an explosion all the way here. Jonathan, he cares." She looked at him sadly. "Are you going to make Clark cut him out?"

 

Lex's hands tenderly cradled Clark's head as they kissed, his tongue lazily seeking his lover's as he nibbled at Clark's lower lip.  "I love you, Clark... and it feels so beautiful to be able to say that."

 

"Would it really be so bad to have Luthor Jr. there out of our hair?" Jonathan countered.  "No more offers to buy the farm, no more flashy presents, no more showing up out of the blue and tainting our boy..."

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

"Sir...please, there's nothing you can do right now. Take a seat... please fill out some paperwork for us. Is the man you came in with your son?" A tender faced nurse, skinny and beautiful, big blue eyes inside of a frame of black curls.

 

Lionel stopped stalking for a moment, glaring down at the woman who'd dared to interrupt him.  "My... son?  You imbecile, do you not know who I am and who my son is?"

 

She rose a small brow. "No sir, I'm sorry, I don't." Pompous ass. "Could you please fill out the paper work?"

 

"I.  Am.  Lionel.  fucking.  Luthor."  He glared down at her.  "Fill out the paperwork yourself."

 

"Sir, please." She wouldn't get mad, because the distress was evident. "Sit down. I'll get you a cup of coffee, and find out how he is. Just sit down."

 

Lionel did as he was told, only for a moment, sitting until the nervous energy in his body drove him back to his feet, back to pacing again, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

 

She returned, with coffee and news. "Sir..." She handed him the cup. "Mr. Senatori has been taken up to surgery." Her voice was gentle, but strong. "His heart stopped, but they got it moving again. The bullet lodged close to his heart, and they're removing it as we speak. My director has asked if you'd like a private room to wait."

 

Lionel's hand crumpled the flimsy Styrofoam cup, not noticing the hot liquid that flowed over his hand, burning him.  "Yes," was his only answer, fist clenched tightly around the destroyed cup.

 

If she noticed she didn't mention it, asking him to follow without words as she led him to the elevators in the middle of the first hallway, in a burrow where six of them blinked and towed people up and down.

 

Lionel waited in silence for the elevator, cursing and swearing against every God he'd ever known.

 

The hospital was busy. Ill children, puking, barfing, lumps, illness, agony, pain, sneezing, coughing, ear aches and rubella, tubes in ears and tubes in bladders, IVs and needles, medicines and paperwork. Nurses, poverty stricken people...then the cool bliss of the elevator. She let the ram rod straight, handsome elderly man up the few levels...level 6 of 15, where the surgery ward and ICU were located. She led him in, nodding at the desk clerk, and led Lionel into a small room adjacent to the ICU, with huge windows that pointed right in. A woman lay prone, asleep, pale and light blue, but for the moment, she was the only one there. "Here you are, Mr. Luthor. Would you like anything?"

 

"Merely to be left alone," he said curtly.

 

"Yes, sir. If you need anything, please just beep the front office and Mandra will help you." She turned, and left.

 

Lionel turned and stared silently out the window.   The hospital room was quiet...still. It had only been an hour since they'd rushed in, and everything is as it was...calm and quiet, still as death, with the usually mannerly bustle of the nursing staff.

   

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

The crack of a hand against skin shocked him from the closed door and his eyes widened, letting Lex go as his mother pushed the door open with light eyes and slightly flushed cheeks.

 

"Would you boys please go on and tell me what exactly happened?" She nodded and offered Lex a kitchen stool. "We saw the plant on the news...what happened?"

 

Lex stepped back only half a step from Clark, still staying close.  "Someone who used to work for me--Roger Nixon--apparently took leave of his sanity and tried to blackmail my father and me.  He was threatening to send evidence of my shady past--"

 

"--That's an understatement."

 

Lex flinched but ignored the outburst.  "--to the press, unless he was paid an exorbitant amount of money.  We found out later that he was holing up in the plant.  When he didn't get what he wanted... apparently he blew up the plant in retaliation.  I say apparently, because nobody was inside with him except Victoria Hardwick, whom he killed, and my father's assistant, who was seriously injured.  It was his life Clark saved today."  And yes, there was a note of pride in Lex's voice when he mentioned that.

 

Her eyes spiked. "Of course, you went in like the silly boy you are, Clark!" She pet his arm, as if to make sure he was still there. "How weren't you burned baby?"

 

"Dominic. He was hurt...it...." Oh, God. "Mom, dad." Truth? Lie? Truth? Lie? "Mom...dad. Lex knows."

 

Lex turned quietly shocked eyes onto his lover.

 

Jonathan strode over to his son.  "How does Lex know, son?"

 

Clark breathed in hard and reached over, taking Lex's hand in his own and squeezing. "I love him, guys." Before his mother could speak, he rose his free hand. "I didn't choose... it just happened. And I'm so, so glad it did... because... because. Just because. Okay?" He met his fathers eyes with the hopeful brilliance of a son begging permission. "Please, dad."

 

Lex raised Clark's hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles carefully before interlacing their fingers together and squeezing them in return.

 

"You... you love him?  Let me tell you something about Luthor's, son... they don't know how to love.  All they know how to do is use."

 

"You're wrong, Mr. Kent."  Lex spoke up quietly.  "I do love your son.  But only because he taught me how.  Clark first taught me how to be a friend.  Then how to care for someone.  And then finally, how to love him."  Lex squeezed his hand again.

 

"And I do. We do." Clark felt the anger, the hurt, the betrayal. All his life his father had told him he'd love him no matter what, that he'd care and support him in everything. Well here was the first time he'd tested that, and the man he looked up to more then anyone had failed him.

 

It broke his heart.

 

"There's nothing you can do, dad." Quietly. "Throw me out, if you want. But… I'm gay, dad. I'm a fag. Can you be okay with that? Can you look at me every morning and know I'm in Lex's bed every night?"

 

Her mouth shut with a click, and she looked expectantly at her husband.

 

Jonathan swallowed hard, looked from his son to his son's lover and then back again.  "I'm sorry, Clark.  But I can't.  As long as you stay under this roof, you'll have nothing else to do with Lex Luthor."  His jaw was set firmly.  "It's not your... preferences I care about, son.  I don't care if you're gay or straight or whatever.  You just won't be it with Lex Luthor."

 

Christ. Clark looked down, and it took everything inside of him not to sob. He couldn't believe it... his dad had failed him. The crushing sense of having lost something chipped at his heart, but when he looked up, his gaze was clean and clear even as his insides raged. "Then I can't live under your roof anymore, dad. You can take away everything I am, but you can't take my heart. That's mine to give to who I want." He was going to leave. What if Lex didn't want him to live in his house? What if this was too fast? What if he just put himself on the street? What if he just ruined his parents marriage?

 

He looked into the soft slate gray eyes and it was suddenly worth it.

 

She was furious. It was avid on her face, clear as anything, and she watched her husband with abject horror and disgrace at what he'd just done. The same mistakes his father had made, the same pain his father had caused to him he was causing to his son.

 

"You're always welcome at my home, Clark.  That's never changed."  Lex gripped his lover hard, pulling him into a tight embrace.  "You're always welcome with me."

 

Jonathan refused to meet his wife's gaze, though he felt it boring into the back of his skull.

 

Clark bit his lip tight, and oddly enough it wasn't strange to embrace Lex in front of his parents. It was so natural, so perfect, and he nodded softly before looking at his dad. "I'll get my things."

 

"Jonathan!" She got to her feet, watching her son start to walk to the stairs. "Jonathan, what are you doing?!"

 

"I'll help you," Lex said softly.  "Two of us will make it go faster."  He pulled out his phone.  "I'll call for Enrique to bring your truck; we can put your things in the back." 

 

"I'm trying to protect my son, Martha."

 

"By throwing him out of our home?! By denying him to be happy, by making him leave to have his lover?!"

 

A harsh swallow as he heard his parents arguing, and he was trembling hard. He grasped Lex's hand tight, nodding a little as they reached the landing. He veered them to his room, and automatically reached under the bed to pull out the suitcase he always kept there for impromptu visits to gramma.

 

Lex took the suitcase out of Clark's hands and pushed him to sit down on the bed.  Saying nothing, Lex sat down beside him, wrapping his arms around his lover and holding him tightly.  "It's going to be all right, Clark.  Your father will pull his head out of his ass.  He loves you."

 

"I want him to see just what kind of a man Lex Luthor is.  I want him to see that Lex isn't going to fight to keep Clark in his life, not when his parents object."  Jonathan refused to budge.

 

Her voice was very quiet and hard. "If Clark leaves, I'm going with him."

 

"I'm not going to let him see that Luthor boy, Martha."

 

His chin trembled and he held on tight, burying his face in Lex's shoulder to stifle the emotion, holding on tight for several moments before letting go and abruptly getting up. "C'mon. Help me, please?"

 

Lex held Clark as long as he would allow, and then got to his feet after his lover.  "Just tell me what you want me to do, Clark.  Where do you want me to start?"

 

"And denying him of it is going to help?! He only wants it more now Jonathan! You just proved to your son that you'll never stand behind him, never accept him for the choices he makes. You've just ruined his idea of you. Can't you see that?"

 

"I accept who and what he is, Martha.  I just will not accept it with Lex Luthor."  His chin was set firmly.  "Clark knows that I love him.  One day, soon, he'll understand."

 

"Just like you understood your father?" Quiet murmur.

 

Jonathan tightened his jaw.  "I understood too late," he gritted out.  "I didn't understand until after the damage was done... until I was already in love and hurting.  I will not have my son go through what I did."

 

"Underwear drawer. Just get my t-shirts and a few boxers, kay?" He opened his closet and picked out his favorite jeans, three pairs, and a few t-shirts. What he didn't have he'd get later. And no flannel. He disappeared into his bathroom, nabbing the bare essentials, throwing them into a duffel bag with a few pairs of socks. His box of memories, a small wooden box he'd made in cub scouts with his dad when he was seven. He looked at it with tears in his eyes, before throwing it into the bag as well. His guitar...his favorite pillow. A small blanket, and he snapped the lid of the suit case shut with a click. In the duffel bag he threw a few CD's, a book or two, his school English book and a notebook. Done. "Lets go."

 

Her belly twisted in knots, so she went upstairs instead...and saw her son's room stripped of his favorite things. It broke the very heart from her chest. Her eyes fell on the bald boy... she loved him to pieces, and she hated him with her whole heart. But he was good for her baby, and if that's what Clark needed, that's what he'd have. She squeezed his hand, looking at Clark with sadness in her eyes. "Baby... please. Is there any way..."

 

A simple shake of his head, and he hugged his mother tightly as the tears finally came. Soft and red, and he swallowed them back as hard as he could. "No, mom. Love you."

 

Lex watched his lover, his heart aching.  "Here... let me have those, Clark.  I'll take them downstairs while you say goodbye."  He held out his hands for the suitcase and the duffel bag.

 

He handed them over, swallowing as he looked down at his mom. "Come see me."

 

"Oh, Clark." She hugged him to her tightly. "Every minute. Son..." She cupped his face, tears trickling down the sides of her own face. "Be careful, baby."

 

Lex slipped quietly downstairs, bearing Clark's luggage.  Jonathan Kent was blocking the doorway, and Lex prayed that if there were going to be a confrontation, that it be a silent one.

 

"Drop the bags, Luthor.  My son's not going anywhere with you."

 

"Mr. Kent... what he does is his choice.  I love your son; just remember that.  I wasn't the one who made him choose."  With that, Lex pushed out the door, and put the suitcase and the duffel bag carefully in the small trunk.

 

Clark was down the steps the next minute, his face carefully blank as he reached the bottom. His dusty work boots kicked up a storm to meet his eyes, and he started to move past his father.

 

"Clark… son."

 

"I'm not your son. Don't call me that. Don't. Okay? Just... don't." He shook his head. "You've made it perfectly clear how you feel. I thought... I thought you loved me no matter what. But now..." Another shake of his head, and oh, his heart ached to cry.

 

Jonathan's shoulders slumped.  "You are my son, Clark.  Maybe not by blood, but... you're more my son than any blood relation ever could be.  You got my temper, my stubbornness, my pride, and a lot of other things too."  He flicked his eyes to where Lex leaned against the car.  "I love you, Clark.  More than anything in this world.  I just don't want you hurt."

 

"You're kicking me out of the only home I've ever known because I made the first adult choice I've ever made." His eyes flashed in pain. "You gave me an ultimatum. I made a choice." He walked past him, and down the steps without looking back. "Lex. Lets go."

 

Lex nodded.  "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to clean the car out, and... watch out for the glass."  He slid into the driver's seat, and gripped Clark's hand tightly.  "I love you, Clark.  But you don't have to do this.  I know how you feel about your father right now; I've felt that way about mine for most of my adult life.  But you don't have to choose.  You can have us both, because I love you and I'm willing to wait, Clark.  Willing to wait until your father accepts me."

 

"You shouldn't have to wait. If he understood me, trusted me...Lex, he should believe in me. He doesn't. He doesn't believe in me at all. And I'm gonna chose you, because you do... you have faith in my decisions. You treat me like I'm nearly an adult, not like I'm just a kid. I wont wait to be you, and if kicking me out of his house is what he needs to do, then its what he needs to do." I never had a home... a game, it was all a game. Loved for nothing, cared for nothing. God. "Its my choice."

 

Lex sighed deeply.  "I know I shouldn't, Clark, but look at this from your father's point of view.  He doesn't like me, doesn't trust me, and your life is completely entangled in mine.  I know your most dangerous secrets, and you know he's got to be scared!  Don't let his fear and your stubbornness drive you apart.  I don't want you and your father to end up like me and mine."

 

"Things'll cool down." He said it softly, as if he believed it. "It'll be okay, Lex." He paused and looked at him. "Are you sure its okay I stay with you?"

 

Lex grinned at that.  "Of course I'm sure.  You can have your own room, or you can share mine."

 

He would have smiled back, but his heart was too broken. Instead he lay back, passing a stare over at him. "The police must be swarming the plant."

 

"I'm sure they are," Lex agreed softly, driving like a bat out of hell back to the castle.  "Clark... It kills me to see you like this.  Tell me how I can make it right for you."

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

The press was swarming the hospital, filled to brimming and trying to get the story. Trying, being the operative word.

 

"Neurology, paging cardiovascular, to OR 4, calling cariovascular to OR 4." 

 

Lionel rubbed the pounding pain behind his temples, wondering vaguely if that was Dominic's operating room that cardio was being called to.

 

Four and a half hours. It took four and a half grueling, tedious, tension filled hours, but when Dominic was finally wheeled into ICU, it was as if it hadn't been that long at all. The doctors fussed, injecting medicines to help him out of the anesthesia, IV's and pumps and tubes all over him. But he breathed on his own. And his heart beat, blinking on the monitor, was strong and steady.

 

Lionel looked at the telephone in the room, the direct line to the front desk.  Hours had passed, he'd quit counting after three, and he had heard no news about Dominic.  He glared at the phone, willing it to ring.

 

It rang.

 

He pounced.  Literally.  "Luthor."

 

"Hello, Mr. Luthor? Mr. Senatori is now in recovery, if you'd like to see him." Came the quietly serene, serious voice through the phone.

 

Lionel barely held his temper in check.  "Of course I'd care to see him!"

 

"He's in room R3. Would you like me to come and escort you?"

 

"An escort would be a lovely idea, thank you."  Lionel hung up the phone and waited.  If Dominic was in recovery, that meant he had made it through the surgery.  Thank God.

 

It only took a moment before a plump, elderly woman opened the door, looking inside. "Mr. Luthor? This way."

 

Lionel followed the woman.  "What is Dominic's condition?"

 

"He made it fine through surgery." She bustled him through the hall. "His doctor's in with him, you can speak with her." She nodded and passed through a glass door, leading him through the quiet rooms to one with huge windows where a slim figure lay prone under white sheets and tubes. "Here we go." She smiled, nodded, and away she went.

 

Lionel strode into the room.  "I'd like to know his condition," Lionel said, without preamble or introduction.

 

A beautiful, dark haired woman rose a brow, looking into Lionel's eyes and introducing herself to his extreme rudeness. "I'm Dr. Braxton. Mr. Senatori here is going to make it through just fine." She clicked the small pen light off and let Dominic's eye fall shut. "There were a few complications when we removed a bit of the bullet from beside his heart, but he's sewn up and fine." She nodded it, slipping the pen light into her pocket.

 

"When can he be moved?  I'd like to have him moved to Mercy of Angels in Metropolis as soon as it's safe."  Lionel drew up a chair beside Dominic, and clasped one of the slim hands in both of his own.  "It's a private facility, and it's where he's always gone in the rare occasions he's needed medical attention."

 

He lay prone, motionless. Multiple tubes were down his throat and threaded through his nose, IVs and heart monitors attached all over his body. The simple hospital gown was drawn down below his shoulder, which was taped and bandaged to perfection...so close to his heart. His skin was cool, lips pale, dried blood and other fluids on his skin.

 

The trill of the phone was shattering in the silence of the ICU, and Lionel swore at himself for not turning it off.  Checking the display, he picked up the phone in Dominic's room and called Lex.

 

"Mr. Luthor?" A raised brow as he looked at her from his phone call. "He also had a shallow cut on his thigh...we sewed it up, as well as the minor cuts and abrasions. He'll be ready to be transported as soon as the anesthesia wears off, and we've had time to monitor him."

 

Lionel looked up when she mentioned the cut on his leg, and motioned for her to wait until he finished his phone call.  Slamming the phone down, he turned and looked at the woman.  "How bad was the cut on his leg?"

 

"Shallow. Four stitches." Her tone was annoyed, as well as her eyebrow, which was stuck in a permanently offended way.

 

"How long until the anesthesia wears off?"  Lionel turned back to the slim hand clasped between his own, and rubbed it gently with his thumbs.

 

"About an hour, or less, with another hour and a half of prep time to move him." A look. "I hope you understand I don't like it one bit."

 

"At the moment, Doctor, I am not concerned with your likes or your dislikes.  I am concerned with Dominic's health, comfort, and well-being.  In Metropolis, there is access to specialists and other facilities which are not available here in Smallville.  And unless there is a reason that his stability or his condition will prevent me from moving him there, then that is what I am going to do."

 

"I understand." She bristled. "However, at the moment I am his doctor, and I will keep him for as long as I deem necessary to make sure he doesn't lapse into a coma and die on the hour long trip to Metropolis. Sir. And if it takes a day, it takes a day. If it takes ten minutes, it takes ten minutes. But nothing will make me release him without making absolute sure he'll be all right." She snapped his file back onto the end of the bed. "Good day, sir."

 

"Doctor... I never asked you to do otherwise.  I said, as soon as it was safe.  Dominic's well-being is my only concern."

 

She stopped to look at him, studying him for a long moment, but dammit, she'd spent 5 hours in surgery and she was tired. She nodded, simply, and turn and left.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

Clark shook his head, still feeling the gook on his back from the insane reaction to the plant, still reeling, still in shock. His life had changed in the last five hours in such a way that it was unrecognizable to him. "Is Dominic okay?"

 

Lex shook his head.  "I don't know, Clark.  I haven't talked to my father yet.  I wanted to make sure you were all right first."

 

"I just..." He rolled his head to look at his lover and took his hand, squeezing. "I want to know if it was all for something. If he made it."

 

Lex kissed Clark's hand.  "I'll call."  He dug out his phone, and dialed his father.

 

"Luthor."

 

"Lex, what do you want?"

 

"Hello, Dad.  I'm doing fine, thanks for asking."

 

"I don't have time for games, Alexander."

 

"I called to hear about Dominic."

 

"He's in recovery right now; that's where I'm calling you from.  The surgery ended just a little while ago."  Lionel's tone was brusque.  "Is there anything else you needed?"

 

Lex flattened his lips.  "No, I think that's everything.  See you later, Dad."  Lex hung up, and tossed the phone onto the floor at Clark's feet.  "Dominic's in recovery right now.

 

He'd heard the terse tone in Lex's voice and turned to look at him again. "I saw you guys fighting."

 

Lex shook his head casually.  "Nothing more than we ever do.  My father... doesn't handle love well.  He and I are in the same boat on that.  But... I believe he loves Dominic, and we both thought that Dominic was dead.  He was... not coping well."

 

"Such idiots." He muttered it, closing his eyes as his fingers tightened on the ones in his. "Such fucking--" He winced out the window at a sudden bright flash...Oh, God. Lex's house was crawling with media, hundreds of camera crews set up and dozens of reporter in all states of dress suddenly rushed to the car.

 

"Calm down, Clark.  This is why I have Enrique.  Look there at the porch.  He's waiting.  Notice the driveway curves around the front.  We won't have to deal with them."  Lex revved the engine and grinned.  "Ever played Bowling For Journalists?"

 

He couldn't help it. Amusement lit his face, and he rolled his eyes at his lover as he let go so he could work the gears. "You're such a dork."

 

"Yeah... but I'm your dork."  Lex gunned the engine again and let it roll forward, scattering the reporters onto his lawn and clearing a path to the front door, where Enrique and several other staff members were waiting to usher them into the castle.

 

"Always." He watched the journalists scatter with avid amusement, then winced when they stopped. This was the part where he was making a run for it, and very suddenly he got a mental picture of Enrique wielding a bat and beating the off the guys with his Latino accent and his attitude. He giggled.

 

"All right, Clark... Go.  I'll get your things out of the car and follow you in.  Go now."  Enrique stepped forward, using his body to block Clark's identity as he raced from the car to the front door.  Lex slipped out of the driver's side, raised the trunk and tossed both bags to his manservant, ignoring the questions that were shouted at him as he walked behind Enrique and into the safety of the hallways.

 

He couldn't help it. It was damn funny. He looked at Lex as Enrique gave him a quick push into the house, closing the door behind them...and he snickered. "That was by far the most insane thing I've ever done"

 

Lex grinned.  "Oh, it's fun, admit it."

 

"It really is. I bet they try and crawl in through the bathroom windows." He grinned.

 

Lex smirked.  "Let them try.  I've got wrought iron bars that slam in place over them and I'd love to impale people on them.  Just for fun."

 

Snerk. "You're such a liar." A pause. "You've got to talk to them though, Lex. Your poo factory is really...really....broken."

 

"You think I'm lying?"  Lex led Clark over to the window, and hit one of the hidden buttons.  A screen of wrought-iron bars snapped into place over the window.  "You see?"  And then he sighed.  "The factory can be rebuilt, Clark.  They're not looking for a story about the factory.  They're sniffing to see what we've done wrong.  See if it was really a madman or if we're covering up a methane leak."

 

"What are you gonna tell 'em?" Enrique had disappeared with his things, and he wasn't sure he liked it. "The truth? Or the other truth?"

 

"The truth.  Roger was hiding out in my office, trying to blackmail my family with falsified records.  Dominic was sent in to negotiate, Roger shot him, and when he didn't get what he wanted, he destroyed the plant.  You just happened to see Dominic struggling out of the debris and helped him."

 

His mouth quirked a little, and he took a seat on the stairs with a little thud. "Three fourths the truth. Better then nothing." A pause, and he looked up. "Lex...thank you."

 

"You're welcome, Clark."  Lex dropped down easily on the steps beside Clark.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

Lionel rested his cheek against Dominic's hand.  "I think you were wrong about one thing, Dominic," he whispered softly against his lover's hand.  "I am old."  He placed a quiet kiss on Dominic's hand.  "The nurses thought I was your father."  He rubbed his cheek against Dominic's hand.  "I wish you would wake up soon."

 

No change...just the gentle intake and release of air, the suction of the tubes a quiet noise underneath the breathing every few minutes. Limp, cool, his skin raised with goosebumps from the cool air of the hospital. His eyelids didn't even flutter; laying gently on his cheek as he breathed steadily.

 

Lionel closed his eyes, laying his cheek on his lover's uninjured shoulder.  "I'm so tired, Dominic."  He never let go of Dominic's hand as he rested on his lover's shoulder.

   

-fin-

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