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DPJup part 9
Happy Birthday, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carolandtom! Have a great one!
The Previous Parts are here, still giddy with cowboy joy
Smallville had changed tremendously in six years. It seemed smaller and grimier and grim. The feeling of family, of belonging that the people of Smallville seemed to have was nearly gone. It was a colder, harder town, and with the plant’s closing several years ago, it was a poorer town. The Luthors had shut down the plant and the organic farms, sold off the land, walked away without a care.
Lex had wanted to drive to Smallville himself, but Lucas was adamant that he be driven.
“Remember what happened before,” he’d said and looked so frightened that it made Lex laugh at him, which set him off.
After the fight, when Lucas calmed down again, Lex had agreed to his demand and now he was being driven through the center of town in a shiny black stretch limousine with the LuthorCorp logo plastered on it’s side …and god, he knew how stupid and pretentious it looked—just ridiculous. He blushed and frowned, slouched down in the seat regardless of the fact no one could see through the windows, the glares directed at the car felt like they were meant for him.
The car crawled out of town and headed to the countryside and out to their ‘ancestral’ home. Lex thought it looked a little less green, less surrounded by fields of tall corn and borders of sunflowers than he remembered—but of course those had been different times—he’d been a different person.
The crenellated towers of the house loomed above the trees at the end of the drive. He felt surprised that it looked just the same and then wondered why. It was an enormous heap of stone and there was no good reason why it should look different.. He could see some sort of repair work going on at the rear of the house-there were trucks, and scaffolding laying in the drive, but all in all it looked good—better than good—it looked exactly the same.
When he was let in by the housekeeper he felt a weird twisting moment of disorientation—at first glance the interior looked exactly the same as he remembered. After a few seconds he realized the furnishings were new—similar to the old pieces but all recent purchases. Lucas was—trying to bring the past back? None of it was Lucas’ Spartan, clinical taste—it recalled his father, and his love of dark wood and cozy overstuffed pieces…the thought of his dad made Lex’s heart hurt. He missed him; he missed him almost every day.
Lex sighed and walked across the highly polished and sparkling clean floor, following the housekeeper. He noted that she seemed perfectly comfortable in the space and wondered just how long Lucas had had the house and why? He turned in circles and looked around at his house—what was on Lucas’ mind?
Curiosity sent him up the stairs, and down the hall—he could walk it in his sleep—he opened the door of his old bedroom.
The room, his room—didn’t exist. Of course it wouldn’t but the reality was unsettling…it was empty.
Clean, dust free and completely empty. He went to Lucas’ room, looked inside.
Empty.
Further down the hall he could see a note attached to one door and went to it. The card was blank save for his name scrawled across it. Inside the room was a pretty fair approximation of his bedroom at the apartment. He felt a laugh bubble up--how could Lucas know what was in that room--he barely knew himself. He wandered around the room, and dropped down on the bed. Perfect.
Lucas was going to run his life from a distance. Fine. He didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was a few days to get over this sudden fixation on the past. Maybe if he was here, he would realize that what was past was…bad, finished…over. That what it was that made him so tired, bone tired all the time, was a distant horrible memory. He stretched out on the bed, and felt cold and alone. He wanted someone to hold him, warm him and the only arms he could imagine were Lucas’. He toed his shoes off, pulled the bedspread over himself and drifted off, unaware that he cried in his sleep.
******
He woke in the early evening, still feeling worn. His eyes were swollen and gummy and his mouth felt sticky. He washed up and thought about unpacking, thought about food….
He went back down to the living area. He hadn’t yet gone to see what had become of the study. He knew that had to have been long ago repaired, but he felt almost afraid to look in that room. What if it was the same…what if it was different? He couldn’t do it yet—not yet. On impulse, he went to the entertainment room before calling for the housekeeper.
Memories flooded his mind as he stood in the doorway of the identically furnished room. Everything was the same. Just the same. He moved forward slowly, looking around him.
Stacks of unopened, still wrapped in plastic DVD’s, sat next to the armoire containing the TV…brand new CD’s, all of it music he liked were neatly stacked next to the audio system…the little glass fronted fridge in the corner was fully stocked with what he liked to drink, pillows in colors he favored sat plump and inviting on the wide leather couch…he shivered.
He sat on the couch and it sighed quietly and conformed to his body like a well-worn glove. He stared at the phone on the end table…tapped his fingers on his knee and stared at the phone…. he scratched distractedly at a flickering itch on his hand and grimaced. Turned on the TV and stared…he picked up the remote and ran through channels over and over…there was a distinct possibility he might go insane here. He giggled quietly. More insane.
He kept waiting for his dad’s footsteps, waiting for Dad to call his name…
“Mr. Luthor.”
Lex jumped at the voice and managed not to shriek. “Yes?” he answered calmly.
“Dinner is ready sir—do you want it brought here…”
“Thanks, no, I’ll eat in the dining room.” He rose and followed the woman and even tried to engage her in conversation but beyond her name, it was a futile effort, and probably for the best.
After dinner he went back up to his bedroom, shook three pills out of a bottle he had in his shaving kit and lay down so they could work. He closed his eyes and saw Clark’s face, that expression of shock and disgust.
Ah well. He’d wait a few more minutes and if he didn’t fall asleep, he’d take one or two more….
For two days he ate what was put in front of him without tasting it, he drank what was in the bar and swallowed what was in his kit, dozed in and out on a pleasant haze and talked to Lucas as infrequently a possible. Every time he spoke to him, his hard earned daze fractured—Lucas kept asking him if he was lonely and every time he did, Lex wanted to go back to Metropolis and crawl into his lap and he hated himself more and more.
TBC
carolandtom! Have a great one!The Previous Parts are here, still giddy with cowboy joy
Smallville had changed tremendously in six years. It seemed smaller and grimier and grim. The feeling of family, of belonging that the people of Smallville seemed to have was nearly gone. It was a colder, harder town, and with the plant’s closing several years ago, it was a poorer town. The Luthors had shut down the plant and the organic farms, sold off the land, walked away without a care.
Lex had wanted to drive to Smallville himself, but Lucas was adamant that he be driven.
“Remember what happened before,” he’d said and looked so frightened that it made Lex laugh at him, which set him off.
After the fight, when Lucas calmed down again, Lex had agreed to his demand and now he was being driven through the center of town in a shiny black stretch limousine with the LuthorCorp logo plastered on it’s side …and god, he knew how stupid and pretentious it looked—just ridiculous. He blushed and frowned, slouched down in the seat regardless of the fact no one could see through the windows, the glares directed at the car felt like they were meant for him.
The car crawled out of town and headed to the countryside and out to their ‘ancestral’ home. Lex thought it looked a little less green, less surrounded by fields of tall corn and borders of sunflowers than he remembered—but of course those had been different times—he’d been a different person.
The crenellated towers of the house loomed above the trees at the end of the drive. He felt surprised that it looked just the same and then wondered why. It was an enormous heap of stone and there was no good reason why it should look different.. He could see some sort of repair work going on at the rear of the house-there were trucks, and scaffolding laying in the drive, but all in all it looked good—better than good—it looked exactly the same.
When he was let in by the housekeeper he felt a weird twisting moment of disorientation—at first glance the interior looked exactly the same as he remembered. After a few seconds he realized the furnishings were new—similar to the old pieces but all recent purchases. Lucas was—trying to bring the past back? None of it was Lucas’ Spartan, clinical taste—it recalled his father, and his love of dark wood and cozy overstuffed pieces…the thought of his dad made Lex’s heart hurt. He missed him; he missed him almost every day.
Lex sighed and walked across the highly polished and sparkling clean floor, following the housekeeper. He noted that she seemed perfectly comfortable in the space and wondered just how long Lucas had had the house and why? He turned in circles and looked around at his house—what was on Lucas’ mind?
Curiosity sent him up the stairs, and down the hall—he could walk it in his sleep—he opened the door of his old bedroom.
The room, his room—didn’t exist. Of course it wouldn’t but the reality was unsettling…it was empty.
Clean, dust free and completely empty. He went to Lucas’ room, looked inside.
Empty.
Further down the hall he could see a note attached to one door and went to it. The card was blank save for his name scrawled across it. Inside the room was a pretty fair approximation of his bedroom at the apartment. He felt a laugh bubble up--how could Lucas know what was in that room--he barely knew himself. He wandered around the room, and dropped down on the bed. Perfect.
Lucas was going to run his life from a distance. Fine. He didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was a few days to get over this sudden fixation on the past. Maybe if he was here, he would realize that what was past was…bad, finished…over. That what it was that made him so tired, bone tired all the time, was a distant horrible memory. He stretched out on the bed, and felt cold and alone. He wanted someone to hold him, warm him and the only arms he could imagine were Lucas’. He toed his shoes off, pulled the bedspread over himself and drifted off, unaware that he cried in his sleep.
******
He woke in the early evening, still feeling worn. His eyes were swollen and gummy and his mouth felt sticky. He washed up and thought about unpacking, thought about food….
He went back down to the living area. He hadn’t yet gone to see what had become of the study. He knew that had to have been long ago repaired, but he felt almost afraid to look in that room. What if it was the same…what if it was different? He couldn’t do it yet—not yet. On impulse, he went to the entertainment room before calling for the housekeeper.
Memories flooded his mind as he stood in the doorway of the identically furnished room. Everything was the same. Just the same. He moved forward slowly, looking around him.
Stacks of unopened, still wrapped in plastic DVD’s, sat next to the armoire containing the TV…brand new CD’s, all of it music he liked were neatly stacked next to the audio system…the little glass fronted fridge in the corner was fully stocked with what he liked to drink, pillows in colors he favored sat plump and inviting on the wide leather couch…he shivered.
He sat on the couch and it sighed quietly and conformed to his body like a well-worn glove. He stared at the phone on the end table…tapped his fingers on his knee and stared at the phone…. he scratched distractedly at a flickering itch on his hand and grimaced. Turned on the TV and stared…he picked up the remote and ran through channels over and over…there was a distinct possibility he might go insane here. He giggled quietly. More insane.
He kept waiting for his dad’s footsteps, waiting for Dad to call his name…
“Mr. Luthor.”
Lex jumped at the voice and managed not to shriek. “Yes?” he answered calmly.
“Dinner is ready sir—do you want it brought here…”
“Thanks, no, I’ll eat in the dining room.” He rose and followed the woman and even tried to engage her in conversation but beyond her name, it was a futile effort, and probably for the best.
After dinner he went back up to his bedroom, shook three pills out of a bottle he had in his shaving kit and lay down so they could work. He closed his eyes and saw Clark’s face, that expression of shock and disgust.
Ah well. He’d wait a few more minutes and if he didn’t fall asleep, he’d take one or two more….
For two days he ate what was put in front of him without tasting it, he drank what was in the bar and swallowed what was in his kit, dozed in and out on a pleasant haze and talked to Lucas as infrequently a possible. Every time he spoke to him, his hard earned daze fractured—Lucas kept asking him if he was lonely and every time he did, Lex wanted to go back to Metropolis and crawl into his lap and he hated himself more and more.
TBC
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Darling heart, my poor Lexy!!
:(
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You keep saying that!!
*wipes snot on your skirt*
;P
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I am converted now
I am in love with lucas, you make him cunning, evil, manipulative, more cruel then lex in most fics, hotter then hell.......I am in love...........guhhhhhh
Re: I am converted now
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*sniffle*
Lex needs to wake up and get his fucking life back. Sheesh.
*sniffle*
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More, soon, please!! =D
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And thanks for being such a great writer. *Bows at her talent*
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I think, lex is better off dead in your sequel...
He missed him; he missed him almost every day.
He stretched out on the bed, and felt cold and alone. He wanted someone to hold him, warm him and the only arms he could imagine were Lucas’. He toed his shoes off, pulled the bedspread over himself and drifted off, unaware that he cried in his sleep.
I am not sure, even with your talend and Clarks help , this broken lex can and should be fixed....
Re: I think, lex is better off dead in your sequel...
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is secretly hoping an upcoming chapter will feature some hot reunion sexno subject
and I'm thinking your dreams may come true, lol!
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Please make this better!
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O_O ::SQUEEEE::
Larissa
Re: O_O ::SQUEEEE::
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"He kept waiting for his dad’s footsteps, waiting for Dad to call his name…"
I am reading these so fast cause i want to get to the reunion or at least have them talking to each other part!
I hate that Lex can't see his way out of this. That's just gotta change.