Two sides to the coin
When the summons came in this morning, Clark was tempted to simply ignore them and let Lionel rage about it later. But he knows that defying his father, especially in this manner, could be not only inconvenient but downright dangerous. So it's with great reluctance, and with as much cold poise as he can summon, that he reports to his father's lab promptly at nine A.M.
The moment he enters, he's once again tempted to leave. In front of him, there's an upright table, the kind that tips back once the subject is in place, adorned with a set of metal restraints that glisten faintly with a green kryptonite coating. Around the table, scientists swarm, and there's a lead crate on another, smaller table nearby.
Not a good sign.
"Father?"
Lionel turns from talking with his lead scientist. "Clark," he says, and when he smiles there's little genuine warmth in it. He puts a gloved hand on his son's shoulder, and it feels heavy and oppressive. "Glad you're here, son. I have something to show you."
Clark lets himself be lead over to the small table, avoiding the other, and he can feel the weakness, the burning pain already just from being ten feet away. "Is this about your meteor rock experiments?" he says, challenging.
"Oh, yes." Lionel opens the lead crate, and pulls out that looks like a black rock. Against his black gloved hands, it begins to glow faintly purple. "As it turns out, superheated green meteor rock yields a new form of the mineral. Preliminary tests show a new type of radiation that we have never seen before."
"Is it dangerous?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Lionel looks at him, the glowing rock in between them, an invisible wall behind which Clark is trapped. "That's why I asked you here. We need to find out what this rock will do to you. And there's only one way to know for sure."
Clark feels a coldness seizing in his chest, a betrayal. He can still vividly remember his appalling lack of control when he was dosed with red kryptonite, unleashing the monster within that he keeps caged and controls through the facade of civilization. He doesn't particularly want that to ever happen again. Doesn't want to lose control. "Why?"
"Because," Lionel says, curling fingers like claws around the black kryptonite, "you've let it slip that you have a weakness. And it's not quite certain what the other varieties will do to you. Therefore, it's prudent to learn their effects and how to counter them in a controlled, laboratory setting, to avoid another disaster like last time. To allow us to prepare."
Clark looks at the rock, suppressing a shudder. He does not like kryptonite, in any variety. But even he can see the wisdom in what Lionel is asking. And even though he hates kryptonite, he doesn't quite hate Lionel more. Not yet. Not where he'd be willing to kill him over it. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
He makes sure his cuffs are fully fastened around his wrists before allowing himself to be buckled into the restraints. It still burns, but it's not in direct contact with his skin, and he can fool himself into thinking it doesn't hurt as much, even a little. Once he's strapped in place, the lab techs tilt it back, laying him out horizontally. He feels helpless, pinned down like an insect waiting to be dissected, and it takes all of his civilized manners to grit his teeth and endure it in a dignified manner.
Lionel hands the black kryptonite to the lead scientist once more, who looms over Clark with it. "Mister Luthor. We're going to expose you in increments, to allow you to describe what you're feeling. Please cooperate fully and we can get this over with in a jiffy."
"Understood," Clark growls, his jaw clenched. Even this small amount of kryptonite is agony, but he doesn't want to show weakness. Has been conditioned not to. Not unless it's to Lionel alone.
The rock is lowered towards his chest. There's a rising buzz in his muscles, his bones, his very blood. Not pain, but something other, a wild energy that feels at once harmless and deadly, searing hot and bone-chilling cold.
And that's the last thing he remembers for a while.
Outside the lab, the air is filled with an earth-shattering kaboom, and the wall goes flying outward, a twisted mass of concrete and steel rebar. A dark blur speeds out of the hole, leaving behind it a ruined lab, torn down by the bare hands of one man.
It's this lab in which Clark awakens, and looks around him, wide-eyed, seeing the bodies of scientists. "Father?" he calls, hopping off the table and not even noticing that the restraints are twisted and broken on the floor. "Father, are you here?"
Silence answers him.
Unnerved by the lack of his father, and the total destruction of the lab, Clark speeds off in search of Victor. The one person he knows that he can still trust.
The moment he enters, he's once again tempted to leave. In front of him, there's an upright table, the kind that tips back once the subject is in place, adorned with a set of metal restraints that glisten faintly with a green kryptonite coating. Around the table, scientists swarm, and there's a lead crate on another, smaller table nearby.
Not a good sign.
"Father?"
Lionel turns from talking with his lead scientist. "Clark," he says, and when he smiles there's little genuine warmth in it. He puts a gloved hand on his son's shoulder, and it feels heavy and oppressive. "Glad you're here, son. I have something to show you."
Clark lets himself be lead over to the small table, avoiding the other, and he can feel the weakness, the burning pain already just from being ten feet away. "Is this about your meteor rock experiments?" he says, challenging.
"Oh, yes." Lionel opens the lead crate, and pulls out that looks like a black rock. Against his black gloved hands, it begins to glow faintly purple. "As it turns out, superheated green meteor rock yields a new form of the mineral. Preliminary tests show a new type of radiation that we have never seen before."
"Is it dangerous?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Lionel looks at him, the glowing rock in between them, an invisible wall behind which Clark is trapped. "That's why I asked you here. We need to find out what this rock will do to you. And there's only one way to know for sure."
Clark feels a coldness seizing in his chest, a betrayal. He can still vividly remember his appalling lack of control when he was dosed with red kryptonite, unleashing the monster within that he keeps caged and controls through the facade of civilization. He doesn't particularly want that to ever happen again. Doesn't want to lose control. "Why?"
"Because," Lionel says, curling fingers like claws around the black kryptonite, "you've let it slip that you have a weakness. And it's not quite certain what the other varieties will do to you. Therefore, it's prudent to learn their effects and how to counter them in a controlled, laboratory setting, to avoid another disaster like last time. To allow us to prepare."
Clark looks at the rock, suppressing a shudder. He does not like kryptonite, in any variety. But even he can see the wisdom in what Lionel is asking. And even though he hates kryptonite, he doesn't quite hate Lionel more. Not yet. Not where he'd be willing to kill him over it. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
He makes sure his cuffs are fully fastened around his wrists before allowing himself to be buckled into the restraints. It still burns, but it's not in direct contact with his skin, and he can fool himself into thinking it doesn't hurt as much, even a little. Once he's strapped in place, the lab techs tilt it back, laying him out horizontally. He feels helpless, pinned down like an insect waiting to be dissected, and it takes all of his civilized manners to grit his teeth and endure it in a dignified manner.
Lionel hands the black kryptonite to the lead scientist once more, who looms over Clark with it. "Mister Luthor. We're going to expose you in increments, to allow you to describe what you're feeling. Please cooperate fully and we can get this over with in a jiffy."
"Understood," Clark growls, his jaw clenched. Even this small amount of kryptonite is agony, but he doesn't want to show weakness. Has been conditioned not to. Not unless it's to Lionel alone.
The rock is lowered towards his chest. There's a rising buzz in his muscles, his bones, his very blood. Not pain, but something other, a wild energy that feels at once harmless and deadly, searing hot and bone-chilling cold.
And that's the last thing he remembers for a while.
Outside the lab, the air is filled with an earth-shattering kaboom, and the wall goes flying outward, a twisted mass of concrete and steel rebar. A dark blur speeds out of the hole, leaving behind it a ruined lab, torn down by the bare hands of one man.
It's this lab in which Clark awakens, and looks around him, wide-eyed, seeing the bodies of scientists. "Father?" he calls, hopping off the table and not even noticing that the restraints are twisted and broken on the floor. "Father, are you here?"
Silence answers him.
Unnerved by the lack of his father, and the total destruction of the lab, Clark speeds off in search of Victor. The one person he knows that he can still trust.