SV fic: Ghosts in the Machine, PG
Yeah, this was. A while ago. For a challenge using the words: drained, doorway, pious, motive, surrender, and there had to be a mention of Lionel somewhere. So, yeah, read if you're interested. Personally I don't think it's very good.
-fugue-
A hundred years from now, no one will remember Lionel Luthor, or his sons. Instead, in their place, people will remember Superman, that alien from Krypton who saved the world and defended the planet from thugs like Lex Luthor. A hundred years from now the sun will glow red in the midday sky, and maybe Superman’s emblem will be charred into the cornfields of a Kansas farm, a lasting reminder of his good deeds.
At the moment, Lex was not a fugitive from justice, and he had not yet discovered Clark Kent’s secret, though he had learned much. Clark was just a Kansas farm boy, his powers a part of him, but not all of him. Enough of him to make him wary around his friends, but careless enough for him to risk his secret in a room full of Luthors when he crawled through the air vent to save Lex’s life. They were friends, and Lex would’ve done the same thing.
-Smallville 2003-
Clark could sense when Lex walked into a room, an almost tangible shift in the air that on a subconscious level alerted him to be careful. Never lie when he didn’t have to. It seemed to Clark that every sentence coming out of his mouth was a lie, or at least it was somehow evading the truth. Being in Lex’s company was the only time when he felt an acute sense of suspension from reality. It allowed him to slide into his lies as easily as a second skin.
That troubled Clark the most.
He could sense Lex now, hear the soft padding of expensive leather climb up the rickety stairs to his loft. Odd, because Lex usually had some important function to attend to on Saturday or he was out of town visiting Metropolis.
“Hey, Lex. Shouldn’t you be in Metropolis rubbing elbows with the city’s best?”
Lex smiled, always amused by Clark’s naiveté.
“Clark. Actually, I am going to Metropolis. I thought you might appreciate the city’s finest cuisine. That is, if you want to join me.”
Clark broke into a huge grin, pulled as if on a leash like an exuberant puppy. “Of course I want to go. Just give me a minute to change.”
Lex waited, and Clark went inside the house to find decent clothes to wear. He told his mother of his plans on his way out, and Martha merely nodded. She was very complacent when it came to Lex, simply because she sympathized with the boy. With a father like Lionel Luthor, she could understand.
“Just be back before your father gets home tonight. You know how he is after one of John Stealer’s agricultural meetings.” Martha straightened out his coat and flipped his collar into place. “He’ll probably want to do a complete renovation of the barn,” she sighed.
Clark promised and kissed his mother good-bye.
Martha watched her son go with a sense of foreboding, the kind that mothers always felt when she realized her son had given up his heart to a stranger.
***
Clark never knew Lex could turn using chopsticks into an art form. He knew Lex was well educated and cultured beyond his wildest dreams, but this was ridiculous. The sticks seemed like an extension of Lex’s own fingers.
So Clark was a little bored.
Lex wasn’t talking much, leaving Clark to stare at the embroidered tablecloth.
“Lex,” Clark ventured, afraid that he really screwed up somewhere. Lex wouldn’t invite him all the way to Metropolis for lunch if it weren’t something drastic. “You seem preoccupied.”
Lex fixed him with a steely gaze, his eyes gray in the 2 o’clock light shading in through the gauzy white curtains. Their table was next to a large and expansive window. Clark felt as if he was at the zoo and they were the animals.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” asked Lex.
“Of course we’re friends. I thought we established that a long time ago. Why – did I do something?”
Lex exhaled slowly as his eyes wandered over the table, their empty plates and half full glasses, Clark’s soda and his own cup of coffee, before settling on Clark’s perplexed face.
“More like what you haven’t done, which is tell me the truth.”
Clark winced. He knew this was going to come up sooner or later. It always did.
“I told you before, Lex. There’s nothing that I could possibly lie to you about.” But it was never enough for Lex, never enough.
Lex knew, had always known, really, if he was honest with himself, when Clark was lying. And Clark just flat out lied to him, and Lex could practically see it. Felt it like an invisible knife pricking his heart, conveying the I-told-you-so message with a voice remarkably like his father’s, and stabbing out his eyes. It was the equivalent to numbness in his extremities, this quiet defeat, feeling nothing and seeing nothing.
If Clark wanted his secrets, he could have them. But Lex wasn’t going to ignore them anymore.
Betrayal never felt so painful.
Clark realized the end when Lex scraped his chair back across the golden wood panels as he stood, and couldn’t meet Clark’s eyes. Couldn’t, or didn’t want to.
Clark wanted to surrender, but his tongue felt like lead. He wanted to tell Lex nothing but truths more than anything else, but Jonathan’s voice was reciting a tirade in his head, storming his thoughts and leaving everything jumbled in its wake. Clark could not risk another lie, and he couldn’t repair the past.
“I’ll take you back,” Lex pulled on his gloves and straightened his coat, “But after that, I’m cutting my ties with the Kents.”
Like a kicked puppy, Clark could do nothing but follow. He kept his mouth shut, afraid a secret might slip if he wasn’t careful.
It was better this way, he reasoned. Lex didn’t need this complication anymore. Lex had no use for a friend who could only lie.
***
“It’s good you’ve finally broken things off with that Kent boy. One who harbors secrets as ruthlessly as that boy cannot be trusted, especially not with your friendship. I should think Martha Kent would raise a more exceptional child.” Lionel lounged in the doorway to Lex’s study before approaching, his costly heels clicking briskly as he walked.
“Save the lecture, Dad, I’m feeling drained. Could we do this another time?”
Lionel gave him an appraising look as he tossed a bulky folder on Lex’s desk.
“What’s this?”
“Files. Everything from every abnormal occurrence in Smallville, and guess whose name is mentioned in each and every one?”
Lex glanced at his father. Lionel smiled in grim satisfaction.
“I think you’ll find that my people have done very thorough and extensive work on each case. It behooves you to read them.” Lionel shared a pointed look with his son and nodded to the folder. “On my word, Lex. You won’t regret it.”
Lex gave him a shifty look as he searched for ulterior motives, but could find none.
Brandishing a smug smile, Lionel swept out of the double doors without another word. He had said enough and was confident that Lex would consider his advice.
Lex glanced at the folder, ran his finger around a corner, and wondered what truth would finally be revealed that was hidden inside.
-Smallville 2023-
“He’s here, Mr. Luthor.”
Lex signaled his engineers, and the handful of men scattered and took up their positions. He glanced out the darkly tinted windows that formed the entire west wall of their high-rise steel tower at the rapidly approaching blur of red and blue.
“Everything ready?”
“Ready.” Hope took her place beside him and slipped on her purple shades. Her braids were beaded in white, an appropriate color for mourning, and they jangled when she shook her head. “Are you ready, Mr. Luthor?”
Lex turned to face her with an expression of conviction.
“I’ve been ready for twenty years,” was his reply.
“What if he doesn’t take to our scheme?” Hope asked in mild curiosity. In truth she had nothing to worry about, since Superman had never been known to pass up innocent lives when they were in danger.
Lex’s gaze drifted briefly over her face before responding. “We go through with things as planned.”
“There’s a bedrock of Kryptonite under there.” Mercy approached and squared her shoulders as she took Lex’s other side, sweeping her hair over her shoulder as she assessed the Kansas farm eighteen floors below. Lex was all too aware of the implications.
Innocent victims were trapped in the barn, and one in particular was sloppily tied to a trigger that would activate if he were freed. Just in case the detonation didn’t happen like Lex’s engineers had programmed it to when the right button was pushed.
Everything had led up to this moment. The twisted knots in his heart were meant for this, and the slow burning through his veins had held their fire for this retribution. It couldn’t have happened any other way, Lex thought. No other way to calm the tide but to rein in the serpent.
He watched as Superman barreled through the decades old wooden door, a pious creature devoted to saving but never saved him, and in a split second, the first victim was carried out. Superman went in again, and Lex had had enough time to think things through.
“Do it.” Lex ordered.
He felt a wire trip in his heart as the ground below exploded into a million shards of green rock and dirty soil, as the earth underneath was scorched in the shape of Superman’s blazing insignia.
A hundred years from now, no one will remember Lionel Luthor, or his sons.
In their place, people will remember Superman, that alien from Krypton who saved the world and defended the planet from thugs like Lex Luthor.
A hundred years from now the sun will glow red in the midday sky, and Superman’s emblem will be charred into the cornfields of a Kansas farm, a lasting reminder of his good deeds.
the end.
-fugue-
A hundred years from now, no one will remember Lionel Luthor, or his sons. Instead, in their place, people will remember Superman, that alien from Krypton who saved the world and defended the planet from thugs like Lex Luthor. A hundred years from now the sun will glow red in the midday sky, and maybe Superman’s emblem will be charred into the cornfields of a Kansas farm, a lasting reminder of his good deeds.
At the moment, Lex was not a fugitive from justice, and he had not yet discovered Clark Kent’s secret, though he had learned much. Clark was just a Kansas farm boy, his powers a part of him, but not all of him. Enough of him to make him wary around his friends, but careless enough for him to risk his secret in a room full of Luthors when he crawled through the air vent to save Lex’s life. They were friends, and Lex would’ve done the same thing.
-Smallville 2003-
Clark could sense when Lex walked into a room, an almost tangible shift in the air that on a subconscious level alerted him to be careful. Never lie when he didn’t have to. It seemed to Clark that every sentence coming out of his mouth was a lie, or at least it was somehow evading the truth. Being in Lex’s company was the only time when he felt an acute sense of suspension from reality. It allowed him to slide into his lies as easily as a second skin.
That troubled Clark the most.
He could sense Lex now, hear the soft padding of expensive leather climb up the rickety stairs to his loft. Odd, because Lex usually had some important function to attend to on Saturday or he was out of town visiting Metropolis.
“Hey, Lex. Shouldn’t you be in Metropolis rubbing elbows with the city’s best?”
Lex smiled, always amused by Clark’s naiveté.
“Clark. Actually, I am going to Metropolis. I thought you might appreciate the city’s finest cuisine. That is, if you want to join me.”
Clark broke into a huge grin, pulled as if on a leash like an exuberant puppy. “Of course I want to go. Just give me a minute to change.”
Lex waited, and Clark went inside the house to find decent clothes to wear. He told his mother of his plans on his way out, and Martha merely nodded. She was very complacent when it came to Lex, simply because she sympathized with the boy. With a father like Lionel Luthor, she could understand.
“Just be back before your father gets home tonight. You know how he is after one of John Stealer’s agricultural meetings.” Martha straightened out his coat and flipped his collar into place. “He’ll probably want to do a complete renovation of the barn,” she sighed.
Clark promised and kissed his mother good-bye.
Martha watched her son go with a sense of foreboding, the kind that mothers always felt when she realized her son had given up his heart to a stranger.
Clark never knew Lex could turn using chopsticks into an art form. He knew Lex was well educated and cultured beyond his wildest dreams, but this was ridiculous. The sticks seemed like an extension of Lex’s own fingers.
So Clark was a little bored.
Lex wasn’t talking much, leaving Clark to stare at the embroidered tablecloth.
“Lex,” Clark ventured, afraid that he really screwed up somewhere. Lex wouldn’t invite him all the way to Metropolis for lunch if it weren’t something drastic. “You seem preoccupied.”
Lex fixed him with a steely gaze, his eyes gray in the 2 o’clock light shading in through the gauzy white curtains. Their table was next to a large and expansive window. Clark felt as if he was at the zoo and they were the animals.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” asked Lex.
“Of course we’re friends. I thought we established that a long time ago. Why – did I do something?”
Lex exhaled slowly as his eyes wandered over the table, their empty plates and half full glasses, Clark’s soda and his own cup of coffee, before settling on Clark’s perplexed face.
“More like what you haven’t done, which is tell me the truth.”
Clark winced. He knew this was going to come up sooner or later. It always did.
“I told you before, Lex. There’s nothing that I could possibly lie to you about.” But it was never enough for Lex, never enough.
Lex knew, had always known, really, if he was honest with himself, when Clark was lying. And Clark just flat out lied to him, and Lex could practically see it. Felt it like an invisible knife pricking his heart, conveying the I-told-you-so message with a voice remarkably like his father’s, and stabbing out his eyes. It was the equivalent to numbness in his extremities, this quiet defeat, feeling nothing and seeing nothing.
If Clark wanted his secrets, he could have them. But Lex wasn’t going to ignore them anymore.
Betrayal never felt so painful.
Clark realized the end when Lex scraped his chair back across the golden wood panels as he stood, and couldn’t meet Clark’s eyes. Couldn’t, or didn’t want to.
Clark wanted to surrender, but his tongue felt like lead. He wanted to tell Lex nothing but truths more than anything else, but Jonathan’s voice was reciting a tirade in his head, storming his thoughts and leaving everything jumbled in its wake. Clark could not risk another lie, and he couldn’t repair the past.
“I’ll take you back,” Lex pulled on his gloves and straightened his coat, “But after that, I’m cutting my ties with the Kents.”
Like a kicked puppy, Clark could do nothing but follow. He kept his mouth shut, afraid a secret might slip if he wasn’t careful.
It was better this way, he reasoned. Lex didn’t need this complication anymore. Lex had no use for a friend who could only lie.
“It’s good you’ve finally broken things off with that Kent boy. One who harbors secrets as ruthlessly as that boy cannot be trusted, especially not with your friendship. I should think Martha Kent would raise a more exceptional child.” Lionel lounged in the doorway to Lex’s study before approaching, his costly heels clicking briskly as he walked.
“Save the lecture, Dad, I’m feeling drained. Could we do this another time?”
Lionel gave him an appraising look as he tossed a bulky folder on Lex’s desk.
“What’s this?”
“Files. Everything from every abnormal occurrence in Smallville, and guess whose name is mentioned in each and every one?”
Lex glanced at his father. Lionel smiled in grim satisfaction.
“I think you’ll find that my people have done very thorough and extensive work on each case. It behooves you to read them.” Lionel shared a pointed look with his son and nodded to the folder. “On my word, Lex. You won’t regret it.”
Lex gave him a shifty look as he searched for ulterior motives, but could find none.
Brandishing a smug smile, Lionel swept out of the double doors without another word. He had said enough and was confident that Lex would consider his advice.
Lex glanced at the folder, ran his finger around a corner, and wondered what truth would finally be revealed that was hidden inside.
-Smallville 2023-
“He’s here, Mr. Luthor.”
Lex signaled his engineers, and the handful of men scattered and took up their positions. He glanced out the darkly tinted windows that formed the entire west wall of their high-rise steel tower at the rapidly approaching blur of red and blue.
“Everything ready?”
“Ready.” Hope took her place beside him and slipped on her purple shades. Her braids were beaded in white, an appropriate color for mourning, and they jangled when she shook her head. “Are you ready, Mr. Luthor?”
Lex turned to face her with an expression of conviction.
“I’ve been ready for twenty years,” was his reply.
“What if he doesn’t take to our scheme?” Hope asked in mild curiosity. In truth she had nothing to worry about, since Superman had never been known to pass up innocent lives when they were in danger.
Lex’s gaze drifted briefly over her face before responding. “We go through with things as planned.”
“There’s a bedrock of Kryptonite under there.” Mercy approached and squared her shoulders as she took Lex’s other side, sweeping her hair over her shoulder as she assessed the Kansas farm eighteen floors below. Lex was all too aware of the implications.
Innocent victims were trapped in the barn, and one in particular was sloppily tied to a trigger that would activate if he were freed. Just in case the detonation didn’t happen like Lex’s engineers had programmed it to when the right button was pushed.
Everything had led up to this moment. The twisted knots in his heart were meant for this, and the slow burning through his veins had held their fire for this retribution. It couldn’t have happened any other way, Lex thought. No other way to calm the tide but to rein in the serpent.
He watched as Superman barreled through the decades old wooden door, a pious creature devoted to saving but never saved him, and in a split second, the first victim was carried out. Superman went in again, and Lex had had enough time to think things through.
“Do it.” Lex ordered.
He felt a wire trip in his heart as the ground below exploded into a million shards of green rock and dirty soil, as the earth underneath was scorched in the shape of Superman’s blazing insignia.
A hundred years from now, no one will remember Lionel Luthor, or his sons.
In their place, people will remember Superman, that alien from Krypton who saved the world and defended the planet from thugs like Lex Luthor.
A hundred years from now the sun will glow red in the midday sky, and Superman’s emblem will be charred into the cornfields of a Kansas farm, a lasting reminder of his good deeds.
the end.