DPJupiter part 19
10/22/05 03:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThe Previous Parts are blowing through town and unlike Nightwing, they're actually...you get the picture.
So here I am, trying to zip ahead of the wave of depression that's nipping at my heels like an untrained Pomeranian (swear tagawd, if you say 'puppy'...)
I'm fine right now and I'm cooking on several burners--I really tried to finish my RPS but nay, twas not to be. *G* Oooo, I'm all olde english-y sounding! So--next part of Lucas Kills The World anyone? It comes with extra gravy! Yumm!
Lucas called the castle. And called the castle and called the castle. He called the staff, demanding to know where Lex was. No one knew.
He called the Kents. They had no idea. They repeated it at various times throughout the day, until Jonathan offered to have him arrested for harassing them. Lucas called every number he thought might be relevant. He called their friends, he called his friends.
He called bars, stores; he packed and called his pilot.
He was going to Smallville and find the fucker himself.
Lucas landed in Smallville like a tornado. He roared through the place when he arrived, gathered the terrorized staff in the living room and began flaying them alive verbally. Where was Lex, how could he leave with no notice—what the fuck was he paying them if they couldn’t keep track of one man. One single fucking man, with nowhere to go but that fucking farm and that stupid café. He exploded all over the hapless crew of people but as one they insisted over and over they. Had. No. Idea.
Lex was missing.
Lucas ran up the stairs to their room, all of Lex’s clothes toiletries, books—everything was there.
He ran into the room he’d made for Lex and there again, everything was in place, nothing out of the ordinary… except for the bathroom. On a shelf above the fireplace, candles were shoved tightly and haphazardly together, their wicks black and still smelling of having been burned, and the sight of so many crammed carelessly on the shelf was so odd it set off mental alarms.
He rang for the housekeeper, and grilled her. How had she found the room after the weekend? Where were the candles? She described the original state of the room, the tub filled with pinkish water, candles on every surface…the empty wine bottle and the smashed glass and water everywhere.
He could feel the blood pounding against his skull as he asked her over and over what happened---what did the room look like when she came in, why didn’t she call him immediately on finding bloody water in the tub and water all over the floor and empty bottles, why did she clean it instead of calling him and *where* the *fuck* was Lex—a black curtain rolled away in his head and he saw the woman crouched against the floor, her arms lifted over her head, and Lucas backed away.
She sobbed that he hadn’t been there and his friend called to say he was fine and would be home in a few days…she tried to scuttle past Lucas but he trapped her against the doorway.
Lucas forgot himself again and gripped her arms, yanked her to her feet “—what fucking friend, you cow? What friend?”
“I don’t know his name; he said you’d know who it was!”
He dropped the crying woman and ordered her out of the room. Kent?
Clark? Fucking Clark? Lucas felt a pain shoot across his chest and lodge under his jaw. Not Kent, not him. He was a pain in the ass but he’d never go that far in striking back at him. Kent was a pussy at heart. He saw it every time he looked at him with those fucking kicked puppy eyes. “Fuck—It’s been six fucking years--get over it!” he yelled aloud and threw something that broke with a satisfying smash against the far wall. No, he knew who it was, who it *had* to be—that freak. That flying freak in the clown costume stole his Lex.
He picked up a vase that he’d bought for Lex on one of his business trips—Lex had actually liked it. It exploded over the portrait he’d had done of the two of them. He stared at it. He knew Lex had probably laughed at it…he was willing to bet—a crystal decanter ripped into the canvas, tearing gashes in it and raining scotch and broken shards over it. Lucas nodded his head. Satisfying. He leaned against the carved bedpost of the fucking ugly bed he’d bought because Lex said he liked it once.
A red wall of rage swept over him and he reached down and grabbed the cover on the bed and ripped it through, he yanked it off the bed and tore the sheets off, ripped them into ragged streamers and spilled the goose down guts of a pillow across the shredded sheets…he knew he was screaming because his throat burned but he heard none of it…
He was sitting on the floor panting hoarsely, throat dry and raw, sweat matted his hair and soaked his shirt, it clung to him, clammy and wet and tears of frustration ran down his face. He batted at the floating feathers that danced in front of him and suddenly burst into laughter, so hard it bent his head to the floor and gusts of breath sent up puffs of down and made him laugh again.
He knew it. Ever since that night he turned up on the balcony he knew Superman would try to take Lex from him. Because he wanted to hurt him and because everyone wanted Lex—he could tell, everywhere he went, someone tried to steal him away. He’d had to stop a lot of people from trying to take Lex from him. He shook his head sadly. Lex was responsible for so much death.
“See how much I love you, how I protect you from that.” Lex would never know. He was too weak to know. That was okay, that was why he loved him. He needed his little brother to keep him safe.
He stood, stepping around broken glass and little puddles of alcohol. So, Superman made his move, he attacked where he thought Lucas was the weakest.
He wanted war? Fine, he’d bring him war.
*****
He called the Kents again. “Tell Clark to let his costumed fuck buddy know that I know he has Lex—tell him I’m coming after him.”
He slammed the phone down and leaned against the mesh back of the desk chair in the entertainment room. He slammed his heels against the cherry wood desktop and said, “Right, how do I get that bastard to give up Lex, and how can I do it with the most pain…”
Son Son, you can’t win against Superman and Lex would never have left unless he wanted to. .
“Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, *shut* up!”
Lucas dropped his feet to the floor and shoved the chair back. He paced around the area, growling in anger. Lex. Lex wouldn’t leave him. He promised him and he wouldn’t leave. The voice in his head told him Twice…he tried to leave you twice. And now he’s with Superman. Maybe he wants to be there. He shook his head hard. No. He didn’t He loved him and he wanted to be with him.
******
“Clark, Lucas called again and son, you’re going to have to be very careful with him. I think this incident might have pushed him over the edge.” His dad’s voice was worried, filled with concern for him. “Maybe you should let Lex go. I hate to even suggest it, but Lex is dangerous to you now.”
Clark bristled, angry enough that the phone creaked in his hand. He loosened his grip and spoke again when he’d calmed a bit. “Dad, I know you’re worried about me right now, but I’m more worried about Lex, and you guys—I’m going to have to deal with him sooner than I wanted to, I guess.”
“He was looking for Superman this time. He said he knew that Superman had Lex and he wanted him back. Clark—Lucas is working on weapons he can use against you. This just gives him more incentive….”
Clark shook his head, said aloud, “It doesn’t matter Dad, Lex needs my help.”
There was a crackling noise on the line and brief murmuring in the background. great, they’re double-teaming me, he thought. He waited until…“Sweetie…” yep; Mom’s going to work on me now.
“You know how I feel about Lex, and our goals are the same for him--” He could tell by his mom’s carefully chosen words Dad was still in the room with her. “—but I have to tell the truth, if it comes down to choosing between you and…anything, I choose you every time.
Clark laughed quietly. “I know Mom, I know. But…I choose Lex.”
******
Lex sat at a small table in the apartment, drinking coffee and looking over a book he’d picked up in the incredible library he’d found roaming the hallways of Clark’s…place. He was having a pleasant conversation with Lara about the author when Clark strode into the room and without greeting Lex asked, “How badly can your brother hurt me?”
Lex didn’t waste time tweaking Clark for being rude, answered immediately, “It’s possible that he can be deadly to you. I don’t have details but I do know that he’s working on a dozen different counter measure s against you.” He bit his thumb and stared back at Clark. “He’s almost as obsessed with you as he is with me. He sees you as a rival.”
Clark puffed out his chest. “Yeah? Good.”
Lex stopped tearing at his thumb and looked at Clark. “*Good*?”
“Yes, damn it. Good. I’m going to save you from him. I’m going to make it so you never have to worry about him again.”
“Oh, thanks Clark. You and Lucas beat each other up with clubs, why don’t you? And the winner can drag me home!” Lex threw the book on the table and walked out of his apartment.
Lara brightened the lights in the corridors that led the way to the library, subtly guiding Lex there. Lex had no idea that a week before it had been much less a library and more of an example of the kind of obsession Lucas would have admired. He leaned against a bookshelf, his fingers splayed against the spines of the books there, his head leaning against the cool glass of the shelf.
He had no idea why Clark’s words made him so angry. He wished that he could understand the web of emotions that tangled all three of them up in his mind.
Clark appeared at the threshold of the room, hesitated. Casting a quick glance around before recovering, he stormed into the room, shouting furiously. “You get angry at me all the time-I never saw you yelling at *Lucas* and fighting with him all the time—why do you fight with me?” He took a deep breath and continued,” I’m forgiving you, god damn it.”
Lex whirled around and glared at Clark. “You’re forgiving me? Fuck you! I don’t need you to forgive me—you fucking left me! You abandoned me!”
“I didn’t leave you, you didn’t want me.” He came closer to Lex. “I’d see you smiling at him, with him, …how do you think that made me feel, hands all over each other like no one else existed and looking beautiful together,” Clark choked and went on, “and he kept doing horrible things, horrible things, but you never left him.”
“I’ve been trying to!” He laughed wildly, turned his face upwards to avoid the look of dismay on Clark’s face.
Clark grabbed him and Lex froze. “I know, please, don’t, please don’t do that again.”
Lex tried to pull away from Clark. “You really don’t have the right to ask me anything.”
“When I saw you that day, in the hospital, you and him, it felt like all the lies Lucas gave me were lies you shared to hurt me.” Clark was trembling as he spoke, his eyes and face red.
Lex’s eyes glazed over. The memory was sharp and painful as it always was. “I was so drugged out that day, but I still remember your face. I couldn’t move. He took advantage of me. And you cursed me and left and I decided I was lost forever.”
“I hurt myself more than you ever hurt me, I know this now. I understand…better.” Clark leaned his head on Lex’s shoulder and Lex awkwardly pet his hair and tried to control his reaction. It was the first time Clark had touched him because he wanted to in years. It overwhelmed him, Clark leaning on him. It frightened him. “You don’t have to go back to him. Please stay with me. Please.”
“I want to, okay? I really want to.” Words weren’t enough to convey how he felt at this moment—there was no way to let Clark know how much he wanted to stay. If only he could. And he couldn’t explain it to Clark. Never.
“Okay,” Clark wiped his face with one hand and fished about in his pocket with the other, and handed Lex his cell phone. “The first thing you have to do is tell him, and we can work from there.”
Lex graced Clark with a startled burst of laughter, quick but genuine. “What, no alien technology? We’re in a palace made of ice and I get a cell phone?”
Clark blushed slightly and grinned, thrilled that Lex was teasing him. He shrugged. “We get incredible reception.”
Lex nodded, trying to smile still but his heart was a block of ice in his chest. He stared at the little silver bar on Clark’s palm. Clark was so certain; seemed so positive that he could do it that he took the offered phone.
TBC…*crosses fingers and frantically thinks plotty thoughts*
So here I am, trying to zip ahead of the wave of depression that's nipping at my heels like an untrained Pomeranian (swear tagawd, if you say 'puppy'...)
I'm fine right now and I'm cooking on several burners--I really tried to finish my RPS but nay, twas not to be. *G* Oooo, I'm all olde english-y sounding! So--next part of Lucas Kills The World anyone? It comes with extra gravy! Yumm!
Lucas called the castle. And called the castle and called the castle. He called the staff, demanding to know where Lex was. No one knew.
He called the Kents. They had no idea. They repeated it at various times throughout the day, until Jonathan offered to have him arrested for harassing them. Lucas called every number he thought might be relevant. He called their friends, he called his friends.
He called bars, stores; he packed and called his pilot.
He was going to Smallville and find the fucker himself.
Lucas landed in Smallville like a tornado. He roared through the place when he arrived, gathered the terrorized staff in the living room and began flaying them alive verbally. Where was Lex, how could he leave with no notice—what the fuck was he paying them if they couldn’t keep track of one man. One single fucking man, with nowhere to go but that fucking farm and that stupid café. He exploded all over the hapless crew of people but as one they insisted over and over they. Had. No. Idea.
Lex was missing.
Lucas ran up the stairs to their room, all of Lex’s clothes toiletries, books—everything was there.
He ran into the room he’d made for Lex and there again, everything was in place, nothing out of the ordinary… except for the bathroom. On a shelf above the fireplace, candles were shoved tightly and haphazardly together, their wicks black and still smelling of having been burned, and the sight of so many crammed carelessly on the shelf was so odd it set off mental alarms.
He rang for the housekeeper, and grilled her. How had she found the room after the weekend? Where were the candles? She described the original state of the room, the tub filled with pinkish water, candles on every surface…the empty wine bottle and the smashed glass and water everywhere.
He could feel the blood pounding against his skull as he asked her over and over what happened---what did the room look like when she came in, why didn’t she call him immediately on finding bloody water in the tub and water all over the floor and empty bottles, why did she clean it instead of calling him and *where* the *fuck* was Lex—a black curtain rolled away in his head and he saw the woman crouched against the floor, her arms lifted over her head, and Lucas backed away.
She sobbed that he hadn’t been there and his friend called to say he was fine and would be home in a few days…she tried to scuttle past Lucas but he trapped her against the doorway.
Lucas forgot himself again and gripped her arms, yanked her to her feet “—what fucking friend, you cow? What friend?”
“I don’t know his name; he said you’d know who it was!”
He dropped the crying woman and ordered her out of the room. Kent?
Clark? Fucking Clark? Lucas felt a pain shoot across his chest and lodge under his jaw. Not Kent, not him. He was a pain in the ass but he’d never go that far in striking back at him. Kent was a pussy at heart. He saw it every time he looked at him with those fucking kicked puppy eyes. “Fuck—It’s been six fucking years--get over it!” he yelled aloud and threw something that broke with a satisfying smash against the far wall. No, he knew who it was, who it *had* to be—that freak. That flying freak in the clown costume stole his Lex.
He picked up a vase that he’d bought for Lex on one of his business trips—Lex had actually liked it. It exploded over the portrait he’d had done of the two of them. He stared at it. He knew Lex had probably laughed at it…he was willing to bet—a crystal decanter ripped into the canvas, tearing gashes in it and raining scotch and broken shards over it. Lucas nodded his head. Satisfying. He leaned against the carved bedpost of the fucking ugly bed he’d bought because Lex said he liked it once.
A red wall of rage swept over him and he reached down and grabbed the cover on the bed and ripped it through, he yanked it off the bed and tore the sheets off, ripped them into ragged streamers and spilled the goose down guts of a pillow across the shredded sheets…he knew he was screaming because his throat burned but he heard none of it…
He was sitting on the floor panting hoarsely, throat dry and raw, sweat matted his hair and soaked his shirt, it clung to him, clammy and wet and tears of frustration ran down his face. He batted at the floating feathers that danced in front of him and suddenly burst into laughter, so hard it bent his head to the floor and gusts of breath sent up puffs of down and made him laugh again.
He knew it. Ever since that night he turned up on the balcony he knew Superman would try to take Lex from him. Because he wanted to hurt him and because everyone wanted Lex—he could tell, everywhere he went, someone tried to steal him away. He’d had to stop a lot of people from trying to take Lex from him. He shook his head sadly. Lex was responsible for so much death.
“See how much I love you, how I protect you from that.” Lex would never know. He was too weak to know. That was okay, that was why he loved him. He needed his little brother to keep him safe.
He stood, stepping around broken glass and little puddles of alcohol. So, Superman made his move, he attacked where he thought Lucas was the weakest.
He wanted war? Fine, he’d bring him war.
*****
He called the Kents again. “Tell Clark to let his costumed fuck buddy know that I know he has Lex—tell him I’m coming after him.”
He slammed the phone down and leaned against the mesh back of the desk chair in the entertainment room. He slammed his heels against the cherry wood desktop and said, “Right, how do I get that bastard to give up Lex, and how can I do it with the most pain…”
Son Son, you can’t win against Superman and Lex would never have left unless he wanted to. .
“Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, *shut* up!”
Lucas dropped his feet to the floor and shoved the chair back. He paced around the area, growling in anger. Lex. Lex wouldn’t leave him. He promised him and he wouldn’t leave. The voice in his head told him Twice…he tried to leave you twice. And now he’s with Superman. Maybe he wants to be there. He shook his head hard. No. He didn’t He loved him and he wanted to be with him.
******
“Clark, Lucas called again and son, you’re going to have to be very careful with him. I think this incident might have pushed him over the edge.” His dad’s voice was worried, filled with concern for him. “Maybe you should let Lex go. I hate to even suggest it, but Lex is dangerous to you now.”
Clark bristled, angry enough that the phone creaked in his hand. He loosened his grip and spoke again when he’d calmed a bit. “Dad, I know you’re worried about me right now, but I’m more worried about Lex, and you guys—I’m going to have to deal with him sooner than I wanted to, I guess.”
“He was looking for Superman this time. He said he knew that Superman had Lex and he wanted him back. Clark—Lucas is working on weapons he can use against you. This just gives him more incentive….”
Clark shook his head, said aloud, “It doesn’t matter Dad, Lex needs my help.”
There was a crackling noise on the line and brief murmuring in the background. great, they’re double-teaming me, he thought. He waited until…“Sweetie…” yep; Mom’s going to work on me now.
“You know how I feel about Lex, and our goals are the same for him--” He could tell by his mom’s carefully chosen words Dad was still in the room with her. “—but I have to tell the truth, if it comes down to choosing between you and…anything, I choose you every time.
Clark laughed quietly. “I know Mom, I know. But…I choose Lex.”
******
Lex sat at a small table in the apartment, drinking coffee and looking over a book he’d picked up in the incredible library he’d found roaming the hallways of Clark’s…place. He was having a pleasant conversation with Lara about the author when Clark strode into the room and without greeting Lex asked, “How badly can your brother hurt me?”
Lex didn’t waste time tweaking Clark for being rude, answered immediately, “It’s possible that he can be deadly to you. I don’t have details but I do know that he’s working on a dozen different counter measure s against you.” He bit his thumb and stared back at Clark. “He’s almost as obsessed with you as he is with me. He sees you as a rival.”
Clark puffed out his chest. “Yeah? Good.”
Lex stopped tearing at his thumb and looked at Clark. “*Good*?”
“Yes, damn it. Good. I’m going to save you from him. I’m going to make it so you never have to worry about him again.”
“Oh, thanks Clark. You and Lucas beat each other up with clubs, why don’t you? And the winner can drag me home!” Lex threw the book on the table and walked out of his apartment.
Lara brightened the lights in the corridors that led the way to the library, subtly guiding Lex there. Lex had no idea that a week before it had been much less a library and more of an example of the kind of obsession Lucas would have admired. He leaned against a bookshelf, his fingers splayed against the spines of the books there, his head leaning against the cool glass of the shelf.
He had no idea why Clark’s words made him so angry. He wished that he could understand the web of emotions that tangled all three of them up in his mind.
Clark appeared at the threshold of the room, hesitated. Casting a quick glance around before recovering, he stormed into the room, shouting furiously. “You get angry at me all the time-I never saw you yelling at *Lucas* and fighting with him all the time—why do you fight with me?” He took a deep breath and continued,” I’m forgiving you, god damn it.”
Lex whirled around and glared at Clark. “You’re forgiving me? Fuck you! I don’t need you to forgive me—you fucking left me! You abandoned me!”
“I didn’t leave you, you didn’t want me.” He came closer to Lex. “I’d see you smiling at him, with him, …how do you think that made me feel, hands all over each other like no one else existed and looking beautiful together,” Clark choked and went on, “and he kept doing horrible things, horrible things, but you never left him.”
“I’ve been trying to!” He laughed wildly, turned his face upwards to avoid the look of dismay on Clark’s face.
Clark grabbed him and Lex froze. “I know, please, don’t, please don’t do that again.”
Lex tried to pull away from Clark. “You really don’t have the right to ask me anything.”
“When I saw you that day, in the hospital, you and him, it felt like all the lies Lucas gave me were lies you shared to hurt me.” Clark was trembling as he spoke, his eyes and face red.
Lex’s eyes glazed over. The memory was sharp and painful as it always was. “I was so drugged out that day, but I still remember your face. I couldn’t move. He took advantage of me. And you cursed me and left and I decided I was lost forever.”
“I hurt myself more than you ever hurt me, I know this now. I understand…better.” Clark leaned his head on Lex’s shoulder and Lex awkwardly pet his hair and tried to control his reaction. It was the first time Clark had touched him because he wanted to in years. It overwhelmed him, Clark leaning on him. It frightened him. “You don’t have to go back to him. Please stay with me. Please.”
“I want to, okay? I really want to.” Words weren’t enough to convey how he felt at this moment—there was no way to let Clark know how much he wanted to stay. If only he could. And he couldn’t explain it to Clark. Never.
“Okay,” Clark wiped his face with one hand and fished about in his pocket with the other, and handed Lex his cell phone. “The first thing you have to do is tell him, and we can work from there.”
Lex graced Clark with a startled burst of laughter, quick but genuine. “What, no alien technology? We’re in a palace made of ice and I get a cell phone?”
Clark blushed slightly and grinned, thrilled that Lex was teasing him. He shrugged. “We get incredible reception.”
Lex nodded, trying to smile still but his heart was a block of ice in his chest. He stared at the little silver bar on Clark’s palm. Clark was so certain; seemed so positive that he could do it that he took the offered phone.
TBC…*crosses fingers and frantically thinks plotty thoughts*
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10/23/05 01:28 am (UTC)