Stand By Me 23
2/20/05 06:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyMy head hurts so bad from writing the part after this. It's a little hurty, and makes me a little sad.
Anyway, here is the next bit--enjoy! (i hope!)
Parts 1--22 are here.
Lex was pulling his car into the garage just as Whitney was rounding the corner, chewing on an apple he’d snagged from the kitchen on his way out.
“Lex,” he called, and Lex smiled at him.
“Whitney, I wanted to talk to you, I’m glad you’re here.”
Whitney raised his eyebrows. “Really? ‘Cause I’d kind of got the impression you didn’t want me around queering your deal with Clark.” He bit down with a crunch.
“That’s been—sorted out, more or less…which is why I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, sure, say, I left you a present in the study.” He threw an arm around Lex’s shoulder and Lex started to smile and then wrinkled his nose. He sniffed, sniffed again at Whitney and paled.
“What did you do…” he asked, his voice low, and thin.
“I told you, I left a present for you.”
Lex was pale as a ghost as he backed away from Whitney.“You- you--” he whirled and ran to the house, leaving Whitney confused and a little afraid, standing in the garage, his apple hanging forgotten from his hand. He raised his arm and smelled; it did smell of the god-awful oil Lionel liked to use…shit. Did he screw up?
######
Lex ran into the house and forced himself to slow at the study door. He calmed his breathing, straightened himself and made sure his hair was in place. He closed his eyes and—waited, waited for strength, for calm, for—
He opened the door and stepped in.
Lionel knelt naked in front of the ugly reproduction Queen Anne chair—
Lex started. no-- *tied* to it…naked, arms tied behind his back and the—the rod was shoved through the bow of his elbows and he was covered with—and his cane was…
Afterward, Lex could never remember moving to remove the cane, to untie his arms, to turn him and remove the gag. His father said not a word, made no sound at all the entire time, even though Lex knew his arms had to burn with agony when he untied his wrists–oh god- suspenders…Whit’s…
The stripes up and down his back had to be on fire, blood seeped sluggishly from some of them and Lionel said not a word. Even in the grip of what had to be agony, he looked at him steadily, silently and Lex saw clearly the insanity that flamed in his eyes—
Lex’s heart, his whole body was in a grip of ice. He slowly removed his jacket and handed it to his father and Lionel silently put it on. His blazing eyes never left Lex’s as he did so. He turned and exited the room without a sound.
Lex stood frozen, holding a mass of wet cotton and looking around in a daze. A cracked glass lay by the desk, the liquid it held staining the floor. The rod lay on the floor, shiny and slick with blood and—Lex kicked it under the chair. His heels crunched on something—he looked down and saw shirt buttons, they seemed to be everywhere. There were scraps of fabric, and he dropped to the floor and scrubbed at the fluids on the bare floor and carpet with them, rubbed frantically at the fabric of the chair, balling everything up and jamming it all in the desk wastebasket, searching for button fragments, threads, glass—trying to make it disappear. He slumped to the floor and put his hands over his face and quietly cried.
Jesus …he’s going to kill me…
Lex wandered out to the garage and Whitney was still there, sitting on the hood of Lex’s car and he smiled when he heard the doors creak but the look on Lex’s face made him gasp. He leaped off the car and ran over to his side.
“What? What’s wrong?” he was alarmed by the sight of Lex so disheveled, his trouser knees wet, face damp and eyes red. Lex was shaking, he looked at Whit and said, “you might as well have taken a gun and shot me, Whitney. You might as well have killed me yourself.”
Whitney was stunned and a little worried by the vehemence in Lex’s voice—he insisted, “No! He’ll never bother you again—I scared him—I let him know not to mess with you ever again.” But his confidence was rocked by Lex’s attitude of quiet despair, a sort of fatalistic acceptance of—disaster…
Lex looked sadly at him. “I don’t know, Whitney. You have no idea what you’ve unleashed there. You didn’t see his eyes... He’ll kill me—and *you*. He can’t have us about to remind him of this…” Lex jerked, looked wildly about, as if awakening from a nightmare—“Fuck! I’m not going to stand here and let him kill me! I’ve got to go—get Clark and—
Whitney grabbed his arm. “Lex, Lex! Think calmly- you don’t have to run…Go to the police.Tell them what he's been doing to you.” He said firmly.
Lex grinned, a ferocious cold gleam of perfect white teeth, and Whitney stared at him, thinking, God they look so sharp—he was beginning to feel a trickle of fear and it was…unfamiliar, and unpleasant.
Lex smacked Whitney’s hand away, grabbed the neck of his undershirt and pulled him close. “Are you crazy or just stupid?” he hissed. “Do you think they’ll believe me? They sure aren’t going to believe you—no matter how much you seem to think people will do anything for you.”
Whitney winced, started to speak, and fell silent. He chewed on his thumb, watched Lex unravel with a guilty expression.
Lex stalked around the garage, yanking at his hair and cursing, mumbling until he finally came back to Whit, dropped back against the car and laughed, an ugly hopeless sound. “Damn! You killed me.” He dropped his head back against the hood and stared up into the rafters, his lips drew up again into an imitation of a smile. “You killed me.” He repeated.
“Shut the fuck up—I have to come up with a plan—“
Lex’s head whipped around and he gaped at Whitney—“You—you—a plan?” Lex burst into real laughter then. “I tell you what Whitney, here’s *my* plan, I’m running away as fast and as hard as I can—what about you?”
“Me?”
“What do you think he’s going to do to you? We’re in this neck deep, Whit, old boy. It’s time to motor, I believe.”
Whitney tossed the forgotten apple core to the floor. “Listen, I’m going home—I’m going to bed, and then, in the morning, I’m going about my business, like nothing happened because you’re wrong. Things haven’t changed and your old man is still a creepy fuck who’s got a thing for underage meat.”
Lex glared at Whitney, fury sparking a glow in his eyes.
“You little bastard, you –you son-of-a-bitch, you have no fucking idea what he wants- what he does. You think he’s some kind of creep—fuck—I’m telling you, he’s Satan, and I’m not joking.” Lex closed his eyes, shook from head to toe. “You don’t know what he’s done, what he can do.” He opened his eyes again, and stared at Whitney. “Even if he doesn’t kill me, he’ll make me wish he had.”
“Bullshit,” Whitney snorted. “He’s not going to do anything, but if it makes you feel better, get your self out of there—you don’t even need to go back inside if you don’t want—you can come with me.”
Lex seemed calmer, more focused. “No, not yet. I’ll be careful, but there are things I want, some arrangements I need to make before I leave. Once I do, I don’t ever want to come back here.”
Whitney nodded. “All right. I’ll be back tomorrow; if you need me tonight you can call me. You have a telephone?” Lex nodded and Whitney gave him the number, “Chestnut 2414--Will you remember?”
“Chest-*nut*? Yes, I think so.”
Whit grinned, relieved that Lex was joking, maybe it would turn out all right. Lex must have over reacted, he thought. I’m sure he did. And no way Lionel can resist me, no way possible.
whew...hard part coming up...stay tuned.
Anyway, here is the next bit--enjoy! (i hope!)
Parts 1--22 are here.
Lex was pulling his car into the garage just as Whitney was rounding the corner, chewing on an apple he’d snagged from the kitchen on his way out.
“Lex,” he called, and Lex smiled at him.
“Whitney, I wanted to talk to you, I’m glad you’re here.”
Whitney raised his eyebrows. “Really? ‘Cause I’d kind of got the impression you didn’t want me around queering your deal with Clark.” He bit down with a crunch.
“That’s been—sorted out, more or less…which is why I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, sure, say, I left you a present in the study.” He threw an arm around Lex’s shoulder and Lex started to smile and then wrinkled his nose. He sniffed, sniffed again at Whitney and paled.
“What did you do…” he asked, his voice low, and thin.
“I told you, I left a present for you.”
Lex was pale as a ghost as he backed away from Whitney.“You- you--” he whirled and ran to the house, leaving Whitney confused and a little afraid, standing in the garage, his apple hanging forgotten from his hand. He raised his arm and smelled; it did smell of the god-awful oil Lionel liked to use…shit. Did he screw up?
######
Lex ran into the house and forced himself to slow at the study door. He calmed his breathing, straightened himself and made sure his hair was in place. He closed his eyes and—waited, waited for strength, for calm, for—
He opened the door and stepped in.
Lionel knelt naked in front of the ugly reproduction Queen Anne chair—
Lex started. no-- *tied* to it…naked, arms tied behind his back and the—the rod was shoved through the bow of his elbows and he was covered with—and his cane was…
Afterward, Lex could never remember moving to remove the cane, to untie his arms, to turn him and remove the gag. His father said not a word, made no sound at all the entire time, even though Lex knew his arms had to burn with agony when he untied his wrists–oh god- suspenders…Whit’s…
The stripes up and down his back had to be on fire, blood seeped sluggishly from some of them and Lionel said not a word. Even in the grip of what had to be agony, he looked at him steadily, silently and Lex saw clearly the insanity that flamed in his eyes—
Lex’s heart, his whole body was in a grip of ice. He slowly removed his jacket and handed it to his father and Lionel silently put it on. His blazing eyes never left Lex’s as he did so. He turned and exited the room without a sound.
Lex stood frozen, holding a mass of wet cotton and looking around in a daze. A cracked glass lay by the desk, the liquid it held staining the floor. The rod lay on the floor, shiny and slick with blood and—Lex kicked it under the chair. His heels crunched on something—he looked down and saw shirt buttons, they seemed to be everywhere. There were scraps of fabric, and he dropped to the floor and scrubbed at the fluids on the bare floor and carpet with them, rubbed frantically at the fabric of the chair, balling everything up and jamming it all in the desk wastebasket, searching for button fragments, threads, glass—trying to make it disappear. He slumped to the floor and put his hands over his face and quietly cried.
Jesus …he’s going to kill me…
Lex wandered out to the garage and Whitney was still there, sitting on the hood of Lex’s car and he smiled when he heard the doors creak but the look on Lex’s face made him gasp. He leaped off the car and ran over to his side.
“What? What’s wrong?” he was alarmed by the sight of Lex so disheveled, his trouser knees wet, face damp and eyes red. Lex was shaking, he looked at Whit and said, “you might as well have taken a gun and shot me, Whitney. You might as well have killed me yourself.”
Whitney was stunned and a little worried by the vehemence in Lex’s voice—he insisted, “No! He’ll never bother you again—I scared him—I let him know not to mess with you ever again.” But his confidence was rocked by Lex’s attitude of quiet despair, a sort of fatalistic acceptance of—disaster…
Lex looked sadly at him. “I don’t know, Whitney. You have no idea what you’ve unleashed there. You didn’t see his eyes... He’ll kill me—and *you*. He can’t have us about to remind him of this…” Lex jerked, looked wildly about, as if awakening from a nightmare—“Fuck! I’m not going to stand here and let him kill me! I’ve got to go—get Clark and—
Whitney grabbed his arm. “Lex, Lex! Think calmly- you don’t have to run…Go to the police.Tell them what he's been doing to you.” He said firmly.
Lex grinned, a ferocious cold gleam of perfect white teeth, and Whitney stared at him, thinking, God they look so sharp—he was beginning to feel a trickle of fear and it was…unfamiliar, and unpleasant.
Lex smacked Whitney’s hand away, grabbed the neck of his undershirt and pulled him close. “Are you crazy or just stupid?” he hissed. “Do you think they’ll believe me? They sure aren’t going to believe you—no matter how much you seem to think people will do anything for you.”
Whitney winced, started to speak, and fell silent. He chewed on his thumb, watched Lex unravel with a guilty expression.
Lex stalked around the garage, yanking at his hair and cursing, mumbling until he finally came back to Whit, dropped back against the car and laughed, an ugly hopeless sound. “Damn! You killed me.” He dropped his head back against the hood and stared up into the rafters, his lips drew up again into an imitation of a smile. “You killed me.” He repeated.
“Shut the fuck up—I have to come up with a plan—“
Lex’s head whipped around and he gaped at Whitney—“You—you—a plan?” Lex burst into real laughter then. “I tell you what Whitney, here’s *my* plan, I’m running away as fast and as hard as I can—what about you?”
“Me?”
“What do you think he’s going to do to you? We’re in this neck deep, Whit, old boy. It’s time to motor, I believe.”
Whitney tossed the forgotten apple core to the floor. “Listen, I’m going home—I’m going to bed, and then, in the morning, I’m going about my business, like nothing happened because you’re wrong. Things haven’t changed and your old man is still a creepy fuck who’s got a thing for underage meat.”
Lex glared at Whitney, fury sparking a glow in his eyes.
“You little bastard, you –you son-of-a-bitch, you have no fucking idea what he wants- what he does. You think he’s some kind of creep—fuck—I’m telling you, he’s Satan, and I’m not joking.” Lex closed his eyes, shook from head to toe. “You don’t know what he’s done, what he can do.” He opened his eyes again, and stared at Whitney. “Even if he doesn’t kill me, he’ll make me wish he had.”
“Bullshit,” Whitney snorted. “He’s not going to do anything, but if it makes you feel better, get your self out of there—you don’t even need to go back inside if you don’t want—you can come with me.”
Lex seemed calmer, more focused. “No, not yet. I’ll be careful, but there are things I want, some arrangements I need to make before I leave. Once I do, I don’t ever want to come back here.”
Whitney nodded. “All right. I’ll be back tomorrow; if you need me tonight you can call me. You have a telephone?” Lex nodded and Whitney gave him the number, “Chestnut 2414--Will you remember?”
“Chest-*nut*? Yes, I think so.”
Whit grinned, relieved that Lex was joking, maybe it would turn out all right. Lex must have over reacted, he thought. I’m sure he did. And no way Lionel can resist me, no way possible.
whew...hard part coming up...stay tuned.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/21/05 12:55 am (UTC)Though it threw me out, a little, that Lex actually shed tears -- canonically he does the tears-welling-up-but-not-falling thing, but only actually wept when he was being strapped down for the ECT.
(no subject)
2/21/05 05:44 pm (UTC)Wow, thanks--yes, I went over this section a few times-- but this I left. And you're right, it does stumble. Thank you for the heads up, a lot of stuff you don't catch until it's too late! *blush*
(no subject)
2/21/05 01:18 am (UTC)Wow. I think the only way this can work out is if *someone* or *something* kills Lionel first. Because otherwise, I think Lionel's going to torture Whitney in the basement for the rest of his life or soemthing equally icky.
(no subject)
2/21/05 05:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/21/05 01:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/21/05 05:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/21/05 01:54 am (UTC)Gahhhhh! Can't believe that Lex is actually going to go back into that house. He had the right idea, his first idea, getting into that car and running now. The wait, the staying to see to whatever he needs to leave clean, is going to get him very very hurt in the short term. I only hope that Clark can get to him and get him away from Lionel without killing him. [Don't get me wrong, I want Lionel dead - deader then a dead regurgitated thing that was then run over by a slow moving tank, but I want someone else who is not Clark to do it. Hand of god or act or misadventure would be fine.]
(no subject)
2/21/05 05:51 pm (UTC)Don't get me wrong, I want Lionel dead - deader then a dead regurgitated thing that was then run over by a slow moving tank,
wow-you're just so inventive and descriptive, Oh My Goddess.*goggles in awe*
(no subject)
2/21/05 03:12 am (UTC)Ack! Nonononono! Run, Lex, run! Go get Clark! Whitney! Have a brain in your head for once and go get Clark! Clark! Save your Woobie! He's gotten infected with Whitney's StupidVirus! Ack!
Ohgodohgod there's a part coming up that even upsets roxy. I'm hiding under the bed now.
(no subject)
2/21/05 05:55 pm (UTC)eep!
2/21/05 04:05 am (UTC)Lex, run, run away now!!!!!!
And Whit'll wake up manana and hear Lex is gone when he's really in his dad's clutches and Whit will have to go to Clark for help, and, and, and...
Eieee!
I don't want Lex tortured any more!!!!!!
Need happy fic NOW!!!!
*sigh*
Yes, I still adore you. Just hard to deal with RL now, need happy fic.
*kisses*
Re: eep!
2/21/05 06:02 pm (UTC)I've got a few funny stories in memories, maybe they'll make you smile a little. (((hug)))I'm sorry RL is being lousy to you, beloved. *kiss*
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2/21/05 08:41 am (UTC)This wasn't it??
*spins and faints*
More please!!!
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2/21/05 06:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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2/21/05 05:33 pm (UTC)A really excellent section. Lex, in particular, hit me hard.
Now I'm all nervous for him going back in the house!!!! eeep!
(no subject)
2/21/05 06:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/21/05 10:14 pm (UTC)Did you get my email I sent Saturday?
(no subject)
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2/22/05 02:43 pm (UTC)Is Lex overreacting or is Whit not as good as he thinks??
Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!
*flails*
You, so evol!!