'Far From Normal' by bittermint, commentary by danceswithgary
Title: Far From Normal
Author: bittermint
Fandom: Smallville
Commentator: danceswithgary
I selected this fic as one that made me think and that I really enjoyed. My comments are a type of free association, made as if I were watching this on TV, and yelling back at it.
Lex's alarm went off at its usual hour of six AM. He sat up and stretched, yawning, vague wisps of a dream niggling at the back of his mind. He shook off his grogginess with his usual five-mile run, returning home with a cleared mind, his skin still tingling from the early-morning chill. He showered, had his usual breakfast of black coffee, wheat toast and fresh fruit, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and headed for the hospital.
Everything seemed normal up until now. Hospital? Is he visiting someone?
The security guard waved him through the front gate with his usual, cheery "Good morning, Dr. Luthor," and Lex smiled and waved back, as he usually did. He took his usual solitary elevator ride up to his office, put on the pristine white lab-coat with his name stitched neatly over the right breast, and sat down to read the case files on his desk, answer his email, and await his first patient of the day.
Ah, we're in AU land. I wonder what kind of doctor?
The tall, dark-haired young man was a new patient, one he'd never seen before, not even in passing in the hospital corridors. He wore the usual shapeless Belle Reve institutional jumpsuit, with sturdy leather restraints at his wrists and ankles. An orderly led him into the room and helped him to the chair in front of Lex's desk, then stood by silently, arms folded.
Alarm bells went off when Belle Reve showed up. This could be bad...
"I'd prefer to be alone with my patient," Lex said, standing up.
Brave Lex!
"That's not a good idea, Doc. This one's violent. He just got out of isolation."
"Well, I doubt he's going to do me much harm in his present state. Wait outside, please. I'll call you if I need you."
The orderly shrugged, then stepped outside. Lex flipped open the chart on his desk and skimmed it quickly. His new patient was a John Doe, arrested a little over two weeks ago for attacking a woman at a local crafts and produce fair. He'd had no identification, couldn't recall his own name, and nobody else seemed to know who he was. He'd been sent to Belle Reve for thirty days' observation due to repeated violent outbursts and episodes of incoherent ranting and raving.
"I'm Dr. Luthor," he said quietly, coming around to the front of the desk. When the young man refused to look up at him, Lex knelt down a moment, forcing him to meet his gaze. The young man's eyes were a startling shade of sea-green, with the unfocused sheen of mildly-tranquilized docility. "What should I call you?"
I'm impressed with Lex's demeanor here.
"Whatever you want. It doesn't matter."
"I'll call you John, then. Is that all right?"
The young man shrugged, staring down at the floor.
Lex perched on the edge of his desk, flipping open the chart again. "It says here that you assaulted a Mrs. Martha Kent at the winter fair in Smallville."
Ding! I begin to suspect just who the patient might be...
He nodded.
"Can you tell me why?"
"I-I don't know. All I remember about it is that s-she... reminded me of my mother."
Confirmation as far as I'm concerned.
"Then you're from around here? Do you have any family we should contact?"
"N-No." He shook his head. "I don't have anybody."
"All right," Lex said softly. "Can you tell me about the incident that got you thrown in isolation?"
He sighed. "I didn't want to take my meds. And then after the guards held me down and made me swallow them, I got so mad I started a fire in my room."
But, if it is Clark, how is it that he can be restrained? Just how AU is this?
"How did you manage to do that?"
"You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you."
"Well, John, you're sitting here in a state mental hospital wearing institutional restraints on your wrists and ankles. Right now I'd say you have nothing to lose."
Snarky logic, my favorite!
The young man looked up at him, a tiny smile quirking up one side of his mouth. "I stared at the wall for a few seconds, and it caught fire."
"Because you were looking at it?"
"Yeah."
"You're right, that does sound crazy."
Interesting comment from the doctor. No mincing words for Lex.
He shrugged.
"Has this ever happened before?"
"I don't know. I don't really remember much of anything past two weeks ago."
"So you're telling me your entire life is a blank up until that point?"
He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Ahhh, amnesia, but I still don't understand why heat vision works and strength missing.
"What's the first thing you do remember?" "Waking up in the middle of an empty field, and not knowing how I got there. So I started walking, and I ended up at the produce fair. Then I saw that lady, and I thought I recognized her, but when she didn't recognize me, I just... lost it."
"All right, then," Lex said, going around to sit in his chair, making a few notations in the young man's file. "I'm going to order some tests. I think it's possible that you've sustained a head injury, which would account for your amnesia and inability to control yourself."
"Th-Then you don't think I'm crazy?"
"At this point I'd say you're just disoriented and confused, which I'm sure your medication isn't helping. I'm going to have your dosage cut in half, as long as you promise me there won't be any more of this violent acting-out."
The young man looked at him, obviously relieved, and nodded. "Okay."
"I'll see you in a few days, then."
The orderly came back in and took him away, and Lex's day went on as it normally did. He saw more patients, he had lunch, then a staff meeting that ate up most of the afternoon, and then he went home. He'd been invited out to dinner with a group of other hospital staff, but as usual, he declined. He wasn't much for socializing these days. In the last few years, he'd learned to prize his solitude.
He lived simply, and quietly, and alone. And, considering the alternative, he preferred it that way. He'd been married once, albeit briefly, to a woman who'd been more interested in his trust fund than anything else, and their breakup had soured him on any further emotional entanglements. When his infrequent physical yearnings became too urgent to ignore, he'd go to Metropolis and take care of it the way he had in his wild youth -- in the back room of a sleazy club, with some cute, anonymous twink who'd be only too glad to go down on his knees or bend over for the right amount of cash.
So, prefers 'boys', does he?
There were days when his choices in life filled him with regret, and no small amount of sadness. But when he thought of where his path could have taken him, he couldn't help feeling that he'd dodged a bullet. He'd had to endure his father's inevitable anger and disappointment with him for passing over a LuthorCorp vice presidency in favor of medical school, but since they rarely spoke anymore, it had long since ceased to matter. The inheritance he'd received from his mother left him financially secure enough to pursue whatever career he wished. So, if he wasn't absolutely, perfectly happy, at least he wasn't miserable either. Most days, that was enough.
Interesting. Medical school was better than Luthor Corp - but still not enough.
He saw his new patient again at the end of the week. Lex was pleased to see how much more alert and clear-eyed the young man seemed now, though the orderly had delivered him to Lex's office still clad in heavy restraints. Conversely, his test results proved more than a bit puzzling. There was no sign of skull fracture, concussion, brain tumor or blood clot on the cat-scan, and his EEG had come back perfectly normal as well. Lex had been hoping to pin the young man's condition on a concrete physical cause, but it seemed that would now be a bit problematic.
"How do you feel today?" he asked, coming around to sit in the chair opposite John.
"Better. Thanks for cutting back on my meds. I didn't like how they made me feel."
"That's good. Do you remember what we talked about last time?"
"About not acting out anymore? I promised you I wouldn't, and I haven't."
"I know you haven't. The staff would have reported it to me if you had," Lex said, getting up, reaching over to undo the straps and buckles that bound the young man's wrists together. "So I'm hoping I can trust you to behave yourself in here as well." He finished with the wrists, then knelt to undo the ankle restraints. "I'll make a note in your file that you should be left unrestrained from now on."
"Thanks," his patient said softly, rubbing his wrists, which, amazingly enough, appeared to have no telltale marks from the heavy leather.
Odd, another sign that he's 'different'. Is he allowing himself be restrained?
"So, do you remember anything else about who you are, or where you're from?"
"I-I think I remember my name. It's Clark. Clark Kent."
Lex frowned. Not exactly the development he'd been hoping for, but at least it was something. "Kent, like the woman you attacked a few weeks ago? The woman who reminded you of your mother?"
He nodded.
"You do remember that she's insisted you're not her son?"
"I know, it's just... it's the only name I can remember, so I figure it must be mine."
Or it was someone he used to know - silly boy.
So, more like grasping at straws than real progress. Still, if it helped the young man ground himself more firmly in reality, Lex wasn't about to discourage it. "Is that what you'd like me to call you now?"
"Yeah, I think I would. I mean, even if it isn't really my name, it's still got a lot more character than 'John Doe,'" he said with a rueful smile.
"All right," Lex replied, smiling back. "Clark Kent, it is, then."
They talked for over an hour. Lex was impressed by how thoughtful and articulate Clark was, now that the medication was no longer dulling his mind. There was a kind of sadness about him too, a wistful resignation that tugged at Lex's heart. Apparently he'd been alone in the world for quite awhile - or at least, he was unable to recall a time when he'd actually had family and friends, which amounted to the same thing.
Aww, two lonely people.
By the end of the session, Lex had reached the conclusion that there was no mental illness at work here. Clark wasn't experiencing visual or auditory hallucinations, he seemed well-oriented to time and place, and his violent episodes appeared to be a thing of the past. A remarkable change, he thought, from the young man who'd claimed only a few days ago that he'd set his room on fire just by looking at the wall.
He made a notation in Clark's file, then flipped it shut. "Well, I think I've got good news for you, Clark. Your thirty-day observation period ends next week, and I don't see any reason why I can't recommend that you be released."
Sure, doesn't remember anything about his life, where he lived, how he earned a living - let's just throw him out there. Sounds like typical bureaucracy at work.
But Clark didn't look like he'd just heard good news at all. In fact, he looked suddenly apprehensive, almost panic-stricken. "B-But... what if I don't want to leave?"
"Why wouldn't you want to leave?"
"Because if I go back out there, I-I might hurt somebody again. I don't want to do that."
"Clark, I wouldn't let you back out there if I thought you were a danger to yourself or anyone else. I think what's happened here is that you've suffered an emotional trauma so severe, you've blanked it out of your memory. It's called hysterical amnesia, and it's not that uncommon."
"So what're you saying - that I'll get my memory back eventually, or I won't?"
"At this point I wouldn't even hazard a guess, Clark. You might, and then again you might not. I'd rather not give you any false hope."
Clark sucked in a deep breath, but he didn't look much calmer. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second. Lex felt a sudden sharp twinge of personal empathy, but quickly suppressed it. "I still don't want to go. Please, isn't there any way you can keep me here a little longer?"
Suppressing his empathy? Bad Lex! No cookie!
"No, I'm afraid I can't. The law says I have to release you after thirty days, unless I find sufficient cause to keep you, or you can pay for the additional care." He got up and went back around his desk, flipping through his Rolodex. "What I can do is recommend that you go to a local halfway house, just until you find a job and get back on your feet. I have an office in Smallville, and I see patients there in private practice on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. As soon as you get settled, I want you to make an appointment."
OK, feeling like Lex might just have a heart hidden away after all.
"B-But... I don't have any way to pay you."
"We'll worry about that later. Right now I'm more concerned that your progress continues. I'm not about to abandon you when you still need help."
Much better.
"Thank you," Clark said softly. "I-I didn't think..."
"You didn't think what?"
"That there was anybody left who actually cared what happened to me."
Lex sat there for a long time after the orderly had taken Clark back to his room, tapping a pen on his desk, staring blankly at his laptop screen. For some unfathomable reason, the session kept playing over and over in his mind, leaving him irritable and distracted. Finally he got up and left for the day, driving home through a cold, pouring rain that he barely paid attention to, except for the chill that it left in his bones.
I love weather that reflects the mood.
He made himself dinner and laid a fire in the fireplace for the first time that autumn. He poured himself a brandy and sat in front of the fire, but still found himself shivering and preoccupied. Patients didn't usually work their way under his skin the way Clark had. There was something about him, some ineffable quality that Lex found haunting. It was as if they'd somehow known each other before, but of course that was impossible. He'd never seen Clark before he'd shown up in his office at the hospital. If they'd met before, Lex certainly would've remembered it. Wouldn't he?
Wouldn't he? - hmmm.
It was nearly two weeks before he saw Clark again, this time at his Smallville office. He looked completely different in his jeans, t-shirt and jacket, and obviously being out in the sun again had done wonders for him, washing away his hospital pallor with healthy high color. To Lex's surprise, he actually seemed happy and eager to sit down and discuss his progress.
Sun. Was that why the strength was missing or was he faking? Still an open question.
"So, you moved into the halfway house, like I suggested?" Lex prompted.
"Yeah, I did. It's okay, but I don't really want to stay there any longer than I have to. I just got a job at the plastics plant in Grandville, so when I get my first paycheck, I'm going to try and find a room I can rent somewhere."
"Grandville? So you take the bus to work?"
"No, actually, I run," Clark said with a wry grin. "It's a lot faster."
I love how Clark just blurts out the truth - no attempt to conceal anything from Lex!
"I'll bet."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"What, that you run forty miles back and forth to work every day? Well, why not? I'm all for physical fitness."
"I was being serious."
Of course, he wasn't serious. He couldn't be. But he seemed so painfully sincere about it that, for a split-second, Lex actually believed him. "Clark... are you trying to get thrown back in Belle Reve?"
Of course, now Lex doesn't believe the truth when he gets it. Clark just can't win.
"No, of course not," Clark said, ducking his head, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "I-I just... sometimes it's hard, you know? Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier if I just moved someplace else. Someplace where I wouldn't have to see people who look so familiar to me, when they don't even know me at all."
"What specifically seems so familiar to you?"
"Everything. Everyplace I go, I know I've been there before. The other day I followed this dark-haired girl into the coffee shop, but when I tried to talk to her, she practically ran away."
Still with the Lana. Boo, hiss.
"You didn't physically threaten her, did you?"
He shook his head vehemently. "I just wanted somebody to talk to. Sometimes I think you're the only person who's ever going to understand how I feel."
Well, if that wasn't a heartbreaking thought, Lex had never heard one before. "Have you tried making new friends? What about everyone you've met at the plant?"
"They're nice, but they're just people I work with. And news travels fast between here and Grandville. A lot of people there already knew I was in Belle Reve." He sighed. "It's not so bad, I guess. At least the ones who think I'm a freak tend to give me a wide berth."
"Well, if you tell them you run back and forth to work every day, is it any wonder they think you're a freak?"
Ouch, dinged for telling the truth.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I think that maybe you're so afraid to make connections with new people, you throw up roadblocks to make sure it won't happen. You don't want to be rejected, so you reject everybody else first. It's a classic defense mechanism."
Clark nodded. "Yeah, I guess I can see why you'd think that."
"So you think I'm wrong?"
Clark just shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't know what to think about anything anymore."
I'd be confused, too. Poor Clark.
"Being confused in this type of situation is normal, Clark. I think you're doing a lot better than you realize."
"Then you don't think I'm hopeless?" Clark asked with a tiny half-smile.
"I think you're just lonely." He smiled back, trying his best to be reassuring. "The important thing is, you're trying. And you don't seem to have a problem controlling yourself anymore, so I'm not overly concerned. Coming back from something like this takes time."
The session came to an end far too quickly. On an impulse, Lex scribbled his home phone number on the back of one of his business cards and pressed it into Clark's hand as he got up to leave. "I don't normally do this with patients, but if you feel like you need to talk, call me. As long as it's at a relatively reasonable hour," he added with a grin.
Lex just can't resist him. Good.
Clark looked down at the card, blinking. "Th-thanks, but you don't have to-"
"It's all right, I want to do it. I know you won't abuse the privilege."
He spent the rest of the afternoon puttering around his office, trying to get paperwork done. Luckily, he didn't have any more patients to see, because his concentration seemed well and truly shot to hell. He decided to indulge in a rare dinner out at the local steakhouse, but found himself fidgeting and itching to leave long before his entre arrived, even with a glass of cabernet to steady his nerves.
Clark's really getting to him.
He got home a little before nine o'clock and fell right into bed, sleep devouring him like a giant black maw. And he dreamed. He dreamed of driving off a bridge, plunging into freezing water that crushed his lungs like a vise. And just as he was blacking out, a pair of huge, strong hands grabbed hold of him, pulling him free...
Dreams. I love dreams.
And then there was this bell ringing somewhere...
It was the damn telephone. He sat up groggily, grabbing for the receiver. "H'lo?"
"Dr. Luthor? It's Clark Kent. I hope I'm not calling too late."
He glanced at the clock. It was barely eleven. "N-No, it's all right. I'm not usually in bed this early."
"You sure? Because it sounds like I just woke you up."
"It's not a problem, Clark," he replied a bit testily, propping himself up on a pillow. "What can I do for you?"
"I-I went to bed early tonight, and I had this really weird dream. Only I think I've had it before."
Dramatic musical riff.
Talk about an uncanny coincidence. Suddenly Lex wasn't the least bit groggy anymore. "What kind of dream?" "I saw a car go over a bridge into a river, and I jumped in to pull the driver out. But when I laid the guy down on the ground to try and revive him... it was you."
This was beyond uncanny, even beyond bizarre. This was downright frightening. Something tight and icy was closing over Lex's throat, squeezing off his air. It was few seconds before he managed to shake the sensation, but it still left him trembling. He juggled the receiver to his other hand, sucking in a breath. What he was about to do went against every ethical boundary he'd set for himself, but right now that was less important than finding out what was going on here. "C-Clark, if I give you my home address, do you think you can come over? I'd rather not wait until our next session to talk about this."
And Lex takes a huge chance with the spooky.
Clark was on his doorstep a short while later, looking windblown and slightly damp. If Lex hadn't known better, he would've sworn Clark had run the whole way. He ushered Clark into the kitchen and handed him a cup of coffee, then sat down across the table from him. "So... you said you'd had this dream before?"
I love how Lex 'knows' Clark couldn't have run all the way there.
Clark nodded. "The first time was back when I was in Belle Reve."
"Why didn't you tell me about it then?"
"I-I don't know. It was just a dream. I didn't think it meant anything. I thought about telling you, but I figured it'd just freak you out."
And it was a good thing he hadn't, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting there talking with Lex.
"Clark, it's normal to dream about people you've just met. It wouldn't have upset me."
"But... the first time I had it was before I met you."
All Lex could do for several long moments was stare. "Now you're lying to me."
"I'm not, I swear I'm not. I-I just... I wish you remembered me, is all."
"Clark, there's nothing to remember. I never laid eyes on you until a month ago."
"But I remember you, Lex. I remember everything about you," Clark whispered. "We've known each other for years. I saved you from that car wreck. We lived together. We were lovers."
Jumped into the deep end, didn't he?
Dear God, he should have seen this coming. Clark was obviously more deeply disturbed than he'd ever suspected. But damn it, he should have suspected something. The red flags had all been there, waving right in front of his face, yet he'd still managed to brush aside every one of them. "Clark, listen to me," he said softly. "You've never saved me from a car wreck. I've never been in a car wreck. There's no way we could know each other."
"If it never happened, then why did you dream about it too?"
"H-How did you know I-"
Back away from the crazy man, Lex. But, still, how did he know?
"Well, you did, didn't you?" The calm, serene way Clark was looking at him now chilled Lex to the bone. He'd seen too many patients at Belle Reve with that same look on their faces, right before the orderlies strapped them into straitjackets. "You do remember me, even if you don't want to admit it."
"Clark, I-I think you may have been right about it being too early for you to be released from Belle Reve," Lex said slowly, reaching across the table to grasp his hand. "It's my fault. I should have listened to you when you told me you weren't ready to leave. If you want to go back tonight, I can arrange it. I'll drive you there myself."
"No! You're not sending me back there!" Clark cried, pulling away, pushing back from the table with such force he sent his chair skidding across the floor. "You said you didn't think I was crazy. You lied to me!"
Lex darted into the living room and grabbed his medical bag. By the time he got back to the kitchen, Clark was curled up in the far corner of the room, rocking back and forth, holding his head like he thought it would explode. Lex filled a syringe with a mild sedative and knelt down beside him, pushing up the sleeve of his flannel shirt. "This is just something to calm you down, okay?"
Snerk - flannel shirt - just can't escape them.
Clark gazed dully at the needle. "That won't work on me."
Lex found the vein easily, but the syringe refused to go in. It was like trying to give an injection to a boulder. He pushed harder, and the needle shattered. Clark didn't even flinch. "I told you," he said softly.
This was what going mad felt like. It had to be. Lex wasn't even sure of what he was seeing anymore. "H-How did you do that?"
"I'm not from around here, Lex. Neither are you. This isn't our Smallville. This isn't where either of us is supposed to be."
Clark is acting oddly, with symptoms (rocking, holding head, depressive), but also calmly insisting they don't belong there. Which is it? No wonder Lex is confused.
"Clark, if you're still trying to convince me you're sane, I think you should shut up now."
"What if I could show you something that would prove what I'm saying is true?"
"I don't see how that's possible."
"Just come with me," he said, wobbling a bit as he stood up. "It's only a little ways out of town, right on the road to Belle Reve. If you still don't believe me even after you've seen it, I promise I'll let you take me back to the hospital. Please, Lex."
Lex hesitated, weighing his options. The simplest and sanest solution would be to call the hospital and have them send an ambulance over, and that would be the end of it. They'd take Clark back and commit him against his will, but at least he'd get the help he needed. Of course, he'd probably be assigned to another doctor - as well he should, after the way Lex had bungled the case up till this point. Chances were, he'd never see Clark again. The thought filled him with sadness, but no doubt it was the best thing for both of them.
Or he could go along with Clark, and see what there was to see, if anything. In truth, Lex didn't see any harm in humoring him; even during his psychotic episode, Clark hadn't tried to hurt him. If it got him to go back to the hospital of his own accord, it was worth it.
They got in Lex's car and drove until they reached the five-mile marker just past the town limits. Lex was sorely tempted to keep on driving even after Clark told him to pull over, but he knew he'd regret it if he passed up this chance to see Clark's explanation for himself. There were too many unanswered questions here, and he needed them resolved, if only for his own peace of mind.
Brave, foolish man. Doesn't he watch movies? I'd be yelling at the screen about not remembering the rules about now.
They climbed out and started walking across an empty field. It had been raining earlier, and mud soon covered their shoes, so thick it felt like quicksand. Clark led the way into a dark, musty-smelling cave with high rock walls on all sides. There were paintings on the walls, though Lex couldn't make out much of what they depicted in the shuddery, anemic beam from the one flashlight that Clark was carrying.
"All right, so where's this explanation you have for me?"
"Right here," Clark replied, digging in his pocket, pulling out an octagonal hunk of metal. There were small symbols etched on it, similar to the symbols covering the cave walls. Clark held up the piece of metal, and it seemed to fly right out of his hand and into a slot on the wall directly in front of them.
If Lex wasn't sure what he was seeing before, now he surely had to be hallucinating. Because if he believed his eyes, the cave wall was splitting open, spewing forth a flood of multi-colored refracted light. He threw up an arm to shield his eyes, and felt Clark grab hold of him at the same time. A split-second later, the world exploded, disappeared and dissolved into black.
Why the hell didn't Clark just pick him up and bring him there weeks earlier? Still missing something here.
He woke in a soft bed that wasn't his own, a familiar protective arm slung around his waist. Clark was sleeping beside him, snoring softly into his ear. The air wafting around them was cool and gentle, the light enveloping them tinted a pale blue.
They were back at a familiar place that felt like home, despite the alien yet strangely beautiful ice formations arching overhead. A fortress. And suddenly Lex remembered how they'd gotten there. The portal down in the cave. The blinding light. Clark, shielding him with his body.
He remembered everything else too. He had two sets of memories now, two divergent paths that both still felt real to him. Well, of course they would - he'd lived them both. At least now he had the luxury of choosing which ones he wanted to believe.
Divergent paths - we're really talking alternate universe here!
Clark stirred and grunted, finally opening his eyes. "Hey," he murmured, "you're awake. The AI said you'd probably sleep all day."
"I guess I'm just anxious to find out where the hell I've been."
"All right," Clark said, getting up, handing Lex his robe. "Let's have something to eat while I tell you. This could take awhile."
Lex was on tenterhooks by the time they were ensconced at the table, their midday meal in front of them. Or maybe it was dinner. It hardly mattered what they were eating anyway - he was so nervous he couldn't swallow a bite.
"So tell me already," he prompted impatiently.
"You disappeared, Lex. Your father told everybody you'd slashed your wrists, but I didn't believe it. We'd been together the night before, and you weren't suicidal. When I saw the body lying there in the casket, I knew it was a lie. At first I thought it was a cloned body, but when I had the AI scan its DNA, it wasn't an exact copy. In fact, it wasn't a copy at all. It was you, Lex... only not from this timestream."
Was the DNA different or not? Different timestream? Clark's thinking zebras, not horses.
"So, when you said it wasn't our Smallville, you meant-"
"The timestream you were in was what Smallville would've turned out to be if the meteor shower had never happened. So naturally, you didn't know me. I never existed there."
No mutation? Is that what was different about the DNA? Hair?
"But apparently I did."
Clark nodded. "Lionel must have figured out how to use the cave portal to access the different timestreams. He found the version of you that existed in that parallel dimension, implanted you with his memories, and had you switch places. Then he killed the other you and passed off his body as yours."
Did Clark know the portal could do that before Lionel did? Did the AI?
It made a twisted kind of sense, if you could even apply sense to a situation like this. He'd known for years that his father wanted to be rid of him, but he'd never thought Lionel would seek out such otherworldly extremes to get the job done. "Jesus."
Twisted sense, indeed.
"Yeah."
"But... how could the AI even tell the difference between us, if we had the same DNA?"
"Not exactly the same -- the meteor shower changed you, remember? But by the time I'd figured that out and reprogrammed the AI to compensate, you'd already been gone awhile."
Ah, as I conjectured.
"So, how long was I there?"
Clark hesitated, swallowing hard. "Five years."
Lex suddenly felt very dizzy. "Y-You're not kidding, are you?"
"I wish I was. I would've found you sooner, but the portal can only access that particular timestream for a short time every couple of years. It's slightly out of phase with our reality, which is why I had such a hard time adjusting once I got there. It's sort of like an eclipse. If you miss it, all you can do is wait till the next one."
"I'm amazed you found me at all. I can only imagine how many thousands of different timestreams you had to sift through."
"Not thousands, millions. I was lucky I had the AI scanning for you, or I'd still be looking."
That's dedication! I love you, Clark!
"Thank God you were," Lex murmured. "I could've been stuck in that place for the rest of my life. Which is no doubt what my father had in mind."
"It didn't look like you had such a terrible life there," Clark said quietly.
"It was a lie, Clark. It wasn't my life, it belonged to a person who, by some fickle quirk of fate, just happened to look like me. I'm not about to exchange my destiny for someone else's."
So Lex just merged into the other timestream and no one noticed he was different. Whoa.
"Hey, at least you had a destiny. I was making mine up as I went."
"So what made you decide to masquerade as a lunatic? Wouldn't it have been simpler to just find me on the street and strike up a conversation?"
He was faking!
"What, like, 'Excuse me, but I'm your lover from another dimension, and I've come to take you home?'"
Lex laughed. "Point taken."
"As for the lunatic part... well, it wasn't much of a masquerade," Clark went on. "I really was starting to lose my mind. You had the memories of someone who was actually supposed to be there keeping you sane. I was just holding on by my fingernails, hoping I could get you out before the timestream closed and we were both stuck there for another two or three years."
Really interesting concept - the merging into existing memories, but with own body. Clark never existed in that reality, so couldn't fit in.
"You would've never survived another two or three years, not in the state you were in."
"I had to try. I couldn't just leave you there."
"My God, Clark, you risked your sanity for me. How can I ever repay that?"
"Oh, I can think of a way," Clark replied with a wink.
They went back to the soft white bed, and Clark pushed him down into the warm covers. They kissed with a hungry, almost manic desperation, exploring each other's bodies like it was their first time all over again. And, in a way, it was. Lex looked up into Clark's face, remembering the beautiful, lost young man he'd been in that other dimension, and felt his own heart breaking. It was only by mere chance that they'd found each other again. The enormity of that realization nearly overwhelmed him, and he clung to Clark like the lifeline he was, memorizing every kiss, every soft, smooth expanse of gorgeous skin. He'd never take any of this for granted again.
Can't help wondering what type of boys Lex looked for in the clubs...
He rolled onto his stomach while Clark took his sweet time licking and fingering and getting him ready, teasing Lex mercilessly before finally pushing inside him. They fucked like eager demons, moaning and thrusting then slowing down, trying to draw the pleasure out for as long as they could, clasping hands and entwining their fingers as they came. Clark rolled off with a spent, happy sigh, kissed Lex gently on the shoulder and fell asleep at his side again, one arm curled protectively around his waist.
Lex lay there a long time, watching the sky above the fortress darken, his own thoughts following a similar moody vein. He could have gone the rest of his life, twenty or thirty or fifty years, empty and alone in that parallel dimension if Clark hadn't found him. And the saddest part of it all was that the person he'd been in that other dimension would never have known the difference. His father hadn't just robbed him of five years of his life, he'd very nearly robbed him of every last shred of happiness and hope.
Lex was not about to let that pass.
There's our Lex! He was too mild-mannered in the other universe.
Kidnapping a billionaire wasn't nearly as difficult as it looked on paper, especially when one had access to LuthorCorp security codes and a superhero boyfriend in tow. They ambushed Lionel in the LuthorCorp Plaza parking lot, with Clark using his superspeed to knock out his bodyguards and throw a hood over his face before Lionel had a chance to get a look at either of them. They bound his wrists, tossed him in the trunk of a nondescript company fleet sedan, and headed for Smallville.
Flexible ethics, Clark?
Lex took a grim satisfaction in every bump, thump and indignant howl emanating from the trunk, but, luckily, Lionel seemed to have worn himself out by the time they pulled over to the side of the road a short distance from the caves. He didn't resist when Clark finally hauled him out of the trunk and led him underground.
He fell to his knees with a grunt when Lex pushed him down and whipped off the hood, then blinked, his jaw working, plainly dumbfounded.
"Hello, Dad," Lex said with a smirk. "Bet you thought you'd never see me again."
"S-Son... my God... I-I thought you were dead!"
"You can drop the bereaved-father act. It's about five years too late."
His expression morphed from stunned to steely, all in the blink of an eye. "So you know, then."
"Well, at least you're not insulting my intelligence by pretending to be sorry about it."
"I did what I had to do, son. I was tired of your endless attempts to overthrow me. When an opponent won't back down, you find a way to take him out of the game."
"So why the elaborate subterfuge? Why not just kill me?"
That's what I'd like to know.
"I couldn't take the chance that I wouldn't need you alive somewhere down the line. And if I didn't... well, it wouldn't make any difference. For all intents and purposes, the rest of the world thinks you're dead."
Right, and how would Lionel resurrect him if he had decided he needed him?
"Well, that's rather convenient, don't you think?" Lex drawled, grabbing Lionel by his shirtfront, dragging him to his feet. "Because now nobody will come after me for killing you."
He nodded to Clark, who pulled the octagonal key from his pocket and held it up. The key flew to its slot on the wall, and the portal slowly began to open. Lex shoved Lionel toward it so hard his father nearly went sprawling.
"Of course, you probably won't die," Lex went on. "Maybe if you're lucky, you'll end up in the same dimension you sent me to, and you can find your other self and kill him and take his place. That is, if you don't go insane first."
Cold, so very cold. What if Lionel just happened to be good in that other universe? I'm finding it hard to believe Clark would condone this.
"L-Lex, you can't be serious about this. I'm your father, for God's sake!"
"Since when has that ever mattered to you?" He shoved Lionel again, until they were both so close to the portal they could feel its whirlwind force battering their faces. Lex stepped back and gestured to Clark, who came up behind Lionel and grabbed him by the belt, barely keeping him from being sucked into the cave wall. "What's the matter, Dad? You look a little scared."
"Go ahead, throw me in," Lionel sneered. "What're you waiting for?"
"I want to hear you beg," Lex said coldly. "Beg me for your life."
"You're insane!"
"Brave words, coming from a man about to be hurled into a raging vortex. Let go of him, Clark."
"N-No! God, no! I-I... please, Lex!"
"Please, what?"
"Please..." he rasped, "don't do this to me." For a split-second, Lex could've sworn he glimpsed genuine terror in his father's eyes. "Let me walk out of here, son. Let me live."
Not exactly effusive, but coming from Lionel it was tantamount to abject groveling. Lex nodded to Clark, who pulled Lionel back from portal and let him go. He landed on his knees again, breathing hard, head hanging down. Dark, telltale splotches of panic-piss stained the front of his slacks.
Whew, I was getting worried.
Lex circled around, cutting the bindings from Lionel's wrists while Clark closed the portal. He hadn't expected any sincere outpouring of gratitude or newfound fatherly affection, and felt a pang of perverse, ironic gratification when it appeared neither was forthcoming. It made what he was about to say that much sweeter.
"This is the end, old man." He stood up, letting the twine he'd used to tie Lionel's wrists flutter to the ground. "The world thinks I'm dead, so you might as well keep up the pretense. I don't want your name. I don't want your money, or LuthorCorp, or anything else that belongs to you. What I want is to never see or hear from you again."
So Lex just wanted his pound of flesh because he could have left Lionel none the wiser about his return.
Lionel didn't reply, or move, not even to lift his head.
They left him kneeling there, silent and broken, and walked back to the car to start the long drive back to Metropolis. Neither of them spoke again until Smallville was fading in the rearview mirror.
"You scared me back there," Clark said finally.
Me, too!
"What, did you actually think I'd throw him in?"
"Truth is, I was half-hoping you would. He's poisoned your life long enough already."
"I'm surprised at you, Clark. You're not usually so cold-blooded."
Me, too!
"Where your father's concerned, I can make an exception."
"I think he'll leave us alone, now that he knows I'm not interested in being his competition. He was less afraid of dying than he was of me trying to take LuthorCorp away from him again."
"You still could, you know. It's not like you haven't risen from the dead before."
"Not if it was the last job left in the world."
Smart man.
Clark swung the sedan onto the freeway onramp and drove on in silence for a few miles, fingers tapping idly on the wheel. "Well, I guess you'll have to move in with me, seeing as you're now officially homeless."
"Thanks. I'll try not to get underfoot too much."
"Hey, I don't mind. We've got five years' worth of catching up to do." He grinned. "So what're you going to do, now that you've torpedoed your career as a future captain of industry?"
"To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought."
"You're a blank slate now. Not too many people ever get an opportunity like that."
No, Lex realized, they didn't. For most of his life he'd wished he could change his path, do anything but be his father's son and heir. The pressure on him had been incredible, and now, miraculously, that pressure had disappeared. He was finally his own man, with no expectations laid upon him, no destiny other than what he chose to make of it. For the first time in his life, he was truly free.
As soon as he establishes a new identity, of course.
"I don't know," he mused softly, reaching over to grasp Clark's hand, "but something tells me I wouldn't make a bad doctor."
Nice ending, driving off into the sunset together.
-- End
Author: bittermint
Fandom: Smallville
Commentator: danceswithgary
I selected this fic as one that made me think and that I really enjoyed. My comments are a type of free association, made as if I were watching this on TV, and yelling back at it.
Lex's alarm went off at its usual hour of six AM. He sat up and stretched, yawning, vague wisps of a dream niggling at the back of his mind. He shook off his grogginess with his usual five-mile run, returning home with a cleared mind, his skin still tingling from the early-morning chill. He showered, had his usual breakfast of black coffee, wheat toast and fresh fruit, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and headed for the hospital.
Everything seemed normal up until now. Hospital? Is he visiting someone?
The security guard waved him through the front gate with his usual, cheery "Good morning, Dr. Luthor," and Lex smiled and waved back, as he usually did. He took his usual solitary elevator ride up to his office, put on the pristine white lab-coat with his name stitched neatly over the right breast, and sat down to read the case files on his desk, answer his email, and await his first patient of the day.
Ah, we're in AU land. I wonder what kind of doctor?
The tall, dark-haired young man was a new patient, one he'd never seen before, not even in passing in the hospital corridors. He wore the usual shapeless Belle Reve institutional jumpsuit, with sturdy leather restraints at his wrists and ankles. An orderly led him into the room and helped him to the chair in front of Lex's desk, then stood by silently, arms folded.
Alarm bells went off when Belle Reve showed up. This could be bad...
"I'd prefer to be alone with my patient," Lex said, standing up.
Brave Lex!
"That's not a good idea, Doc. This one's violent. He just got out of isolation."
"Well, I doubt he's going to do me much harm in his present state. Wait outside, please. I'll call you if I need you."
The orderly shrugged, then stepped outside. Lex flipped open the chart on his desk and skimmed it quickly. His new patient was a John Doe, arrested a little over two weeks ago for attacking a woman at a local crafts and produce fair. He'd had no identification, couldn't recall his own name, and nobody else seemed to know who he was. He'd been sent to Belle Reve for thirty days' observation due to repeated violent outbursts and episodes of incoherent ranting and raving.
"I'm Dr. Luthor," he said quietly, coming around to the front of the desk. When the young man refused to look up at him, Lex knelt down a moment, forcing him to meet his gaze. The young man's eyes were a startling shade of sea-green, with the unfocused sheen of mildly-tranquilized docility. "What should I call you?"
I'm impressed with Lex's demeanor here.
"Whatever you want. It doesn't matter."
"I'll call you John, then. Is that all right?"
The young man shrugged, staring down at the floor.
Lex perched on the edge of his desk, flipping open the chart again. "It says here that you assaulted a Mrs. Martha Kent at the winter fair in Smallville."
Ding! I begin to suspect just who the patient might be...
He nodded.
"Can you tell me why?"
"I-I don't know. All I remember about it is that s-she... reminded me of my mother."
Confirmation as far as I'm concerned.
"Then you're from around here? Do you have any family we should contact?"
"N-No." He shook his head. "I don't have anybody."
"All right," Lex said softly. "Can you tell me about the incident that got you thrown in isolation?"
He sighed. "I didn't want to take my meds. And then after the guards held me down and made me swallow them, I got so mad I started a fire in my room."
But, if it is Clark, how is it that he can be restrained? Just how AU is this?
"How did you manage to do that?"
"You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you."
"Well, John, you're sitting here in a state mental hospital wearing institutional restraints on your wrists and ankles. Right now I'd say you have nothing to lose."
Snarky logic, my favorite!
The young man looked up at him, a tiny smile quirking up one side of his mouth. "I stared at the wall for a few seconds, and it caught fire."
"Because you were looking at it?"
"Yeah."
"You're right, that does sound crazy."
Interesting comment from the doctor. No mincing words for Lex.
He shrugged.
"Has this ever happened before?"
"I don't know. I don't really remember much of anything past two weeks ago."
"So you're telling me your entire life is a blank up until that point?"
He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Ahhh, amnesia, but I still don't understand why heat vision works and strength missing.
"What's the first thing you do remember?" "Waking up in the middle of an empty field, and not knowing how I got there. So I started walking, and I ended up at the produce fair. Then I saw that lady, and I thought I recognized her, but when she didn't recognize me, I just... lost it."
"All right, then," Lex said, going around to sit in his chair, making a few notations in the young man's file. "I'm going to order some tests. I think it's possible that you've sustained a head injury, which would account for your amnesia and inability to control yourself."
"Th-Then you don't think I'm crazy?"
"At this point I'd say you're just disoriented and confused, which I'm sure your medication isn't helping. I'm going to have your dosage cut in half, as long as you promise me there won't be any more of this violent acting-out."
The young man looked at him, obviously relieved, and nodded. "Okay."
"I'll see you in a few days, then."
The orderly came back in and took him away, and Lex's day went on as it normally did. He saw more patients, he had lunch, then a staff meeting that ate up most of the afternoon, and then he went home. He'd been invited out to dinner with a group of other hospital staff, but as usual, he declined. He wasn't much for socializing these days. In the last few years, he'd learned to prize his solitude.
He lived simply, and quietly, and alone. And, considering the alternative, he preferred it that way. He'd been married once, albeit briefly, to a woman who'd been more interested in his trust fund than anything else, and their breakup had soured him on any further emotional entanglements. When his infrequent physical yearnings became too urgent to ignore, he'd go to Metropolis and take care of it the way he had in his wild youth -- in the back room of a sleazy club, with some cute, anonymous twink who'd be only too glad to go down on his knees or bend over for the right amount of cash.
So, prefers 'boys', does he?
There were days when his choices in life filled him with regret, and no small amount of sadness. But when he thought of where his path could have taken him, he couldn't help feeling that he'd dodged a bullet. He'd had to endure his father's inevitable anger and disappointment with him for passing over a LuthorCorp vice presidency in favor of medical school, but since they rarely spoke anymore, it had long since ceased to matter. The inheritance he'd received from his mother left him financially secure enough to pursue whatever career he wished. So, if he wasn't absolutely, perfectly happy, at least he wasn't miserable either. Most days, that was enough.
Interesting. Medical school was better than Luthor Corp - but still not enough.
He saw his new patient again at the end of the week. Lex was pleased to see how much more alert and clear-eyed the young man seemed now, though the orderly had delivered him to Lex's office still clad in heavy restraints. Conversely, his test results proved more than a bit puzzling. There was no sign of skull fracture, concussion, brain tumor or blood clot on the cat-scan, and his EEG had come back perfectly normal as well. Lex had been hoping to pin the young man's condition on a concrete physical cause, but it seemed that would now be a bit problematic.
"How do you feel today?" he asked, coming around to sit in the chair opposite John.
"Better. Thanks for cutting back on my meds. I didn't like how they made me feel."
"That's good. Do you remember what we talked about last time?"
"About not acting out anymore? I promised you I wouldn't, and I haven't."
"I know you haven't. The staff would have reported it to me if you had," Lex said, getting up, reaching over to undo the straps and buckles that bound the young man's wrists together. "So I'm hoping I can trust you to behave yourself in here as well." He finished with the wrists, then knelt to undo the ankle restraints. "I'll make a note in your file that you should be left unrestrained from now on."
"Thanks," his patient said softly, rubbing his wrists, which, amazingly enough, appeared to have no telltale marks from the heavy leather.
Odd, another sign that he's 'different'. Is he allowing himself be restrained?
"So, do you remember anything else about who you are, or where you're from?"
"I-I think I remember my name. It's Clark. Clark Kent."
Lex frowned. Not exactly the development he'd been hoping for, but at least it was something. "Kent, like the woman you attacked a few weeks ago? The woman who reminded you of your mother?"
He nodded.
"You do remember that she's insisted you're not her son?"
"I know, it's just... it's the only name I can remember, so I figure it must be mine."
Or it was someone he used to know - silly boy.
So, more like grasping at straws than real progress. Still, if it helped the young man ground himself more firmly in reality, Lex wasn't about to discourage it. "Is that what you'd like me to call you now?"
"Yeah, I think I would. I mean, even if it isn't really my name, it's still got a lot more character than 'John Doe,'" he said with a rueful smile.
"All right," Lex replied, smiling back. "Clark Kent, it is, then."
They talked for over an hour. Lex was impressed by how thoughtful and articulate Clark was, now that the medication was no longer dulling his mind. There was a kind of sadness about him too, a wistful resignation that tugged at Lex's heart. Apparently he'd been alone in the world for quite awhile - or at least, he was unable to recall a time when he'd actually had family and friends, which amounted to the same thing.
Aww, two lonely people.
By the end of the session, Lex had reached the conclusion that there was no mental illness at work here. Clark wasn't experiencing visual or auditory hallucinations, he seemed well-oriented to time and place, and his violent episodes appeared to be a thing of the past. A remarkable change, he thought, from the young man who'd claimed only a few days ago that he'd set his room on fire just by looking at the wall.
He made a notation in Clark's file, then flipped it shut. "Well, I think I've got good news for you, Clark. Your thirty-day observation period ends next week, and I don't see any reason why I can't recommend that you be released."
Sure, doesn't remember anything about his life, where he lived, how he earned a living - let's just throw him out there. Sounds like typical bureaucracy at work.
But Clark didn't look like he'd just heard good news at all. In fact, he looked suddenly apprehensive, almost panic-stricken. "B-But... what if I don't want to leave?"
"Why wouldn't you want to leave?"
"Because if I go back out there, I-I might hurt somebody again. I don't want to do that."
"Clark, I wouldn't let you back out there if I thought you were a danger to yourself or anyone else. I think what's happened here is that you've suffered an emotional trauma so severe, you've blanked it out of your memory. It's called hysterical amnesia, and it's not that uncommon."
"So what're you saying - that I'll get my memory back eventually, or I won't?"
"At this point I wouldn't even hazard a guess, Clark. You might, and then again you might not. I'd rather not give you any false hope."
Clark sucked in a deep breath, but he didn't look much calmer. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second. Lex felt a sudden sharp twinge of personal empathy, but quickly suppressed it. "I still don't want to go. Please, isn't there any way you can keep me here a little longer?"
Suppressing his empathy? Bad Lex! No cookie!
"No, I'm afraid I can't. The law says I have to release you after thirty days, unless I find sufficient cause to keep you, or you can pay for the additional care." He got up and went back around his desk, flipping through his Rolodex. "What I can do is recommend that you go to a local halfway house, just until you find a job and get back on your feet. I have an office in Smallville, and I see patients there in private practice on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. As soon as you get settled, I want you to make an appointment."
OK, feeling like Lex might just have a heart hidden away after all.
"B-But... I don't have any way to pay you."
"We'll worry about that later. Right now I'm more concerned that your progress continues. I'm not about to abandon you when you still need help."
Much better.
"Thank you," Clark said softly. "I-I didn't think..."
"You didn't think what?"
"That there was anybody left who actually cared what happened to me."
Lex sat there for a long time after the orderly had taken Clark back to his room, tapping a pen on his desk, staring blankly at his laptop screen. For some unfathomable reason, the session kept playing over and over in his mind, leaving him irritable and distracted. Finally he got up and left for the day, driving home through a cold, pouring rain that he barely paid attention to, except for the chill that it left in his bones.
I love weather that reflects the mood.
He made himself dinner and laid a fire in the fireplace for the first time that autumn. He poured himself a brandy and sat in front of the fire, but still found himself shivering and preoccupied. Patients didn't usually work their way under his skin the way Clark had. There was something about him, some ineffable quality that Lex found haunting. It was as if they'd somehow known each other before, but of course that was impossible. He'd never seen Clark before he'd shown up in his office at the hospital. If they'd met before, Lex certainly would've remembered it. Wouldn't he?
Wouldn't he? - hmmm.
It was nearly two weeks before he saw Clark again, this time at his Smallville office. He looked completely different in his jeans, t-shirt and jacket, and obviously being out in the sun again had done wonders for him, washing away his hospital pallor with healthy high color. To Lex's surprise, he actually seemed happy and eager to sit down and discuss his progress.
Sun. Was that why the strength was missing or was he faking? Still an open question.
"So, you moved into the halfway house, like I suggested?" Lex prompted.
"Yeah, I did. It's okay, but I don't really want to stay there any longer than I have to. I just got a job at the plastics plant in Grandville, so when I get my first paycheck, I'm going to try and find a room I can rent somewhere."
"Grandville? So you take the bus to work?"
"No, actually, I run," Clark said with a wry grin. "It's a lot faster."
I love how Clark just blurts out the truth - no attempt to conceal anything from Lex!
"I'll bet."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"What, that you run forty miles back and forth to work every day? Well, why not? I'm all for physical fitness."
"I was being serious."
Of course, he wasn't serious. He couldn't be. But he seemed so painfully sincere about it that, for a split-second, Lex actually believed him. "Clark... are you trying to get thrown back in Belle Reve?"
Of course, now Lex doesn't believe the truth when he gets it. Clark just can't win.
"No, of course not," Clark said, ducking his head, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "I-I just... sometimes it's hard, you know? Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier if I just moved someplace else. Someplace where I wouldn't have to see people who look so familiar to me, when they don't even know me at all."
"What specifically seems so familiar to you?"
"Everything. Everyplace I go, I know I've been there before. The other day I followed this dark-haired girl into the coffee shop, but when I tried to talk to her, she practically ran away."
Still with the Lana. Boo, hiss.
"You didn't physically threaten her, did you?"
He shook his head vehemently. "I just wanted somebody to talk to. Sometimes I think you're the only person who's ever going to understand how I feel."
Well, if that wasn't a heartbreaking thought, Lex had never heard one before. "Have you tried making new friends? What about everyone you've met at the plant?"
"They're nice, but they're just people I work with. And news travels fast between here and Grandville. A lot of people there already knew I was in Belle Reve." He sighed. "It's not so bad, I guess. At least the ones who think I'm a freak tend to give me a wide berth."
"Well, if you tell them you run back and forth to work every day, is it any wonder they think you're a freak?"
Ouch, dinged for telling the truth.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I think that maybe you're so afraid to make connections with new people, you throw up roadblocks to make sure it won't happen. You don't want to be rejected, so you reject everybody else first. It's a classic defense mechanism."
Clark nodded. "Yeah, I guess I can see why you'd think that."
"So you think I'm wrong?"
Clark just shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't know what to think about anything anymore."
I'd be confused, too. Poor Clark.
"Being confused in this type of situation is normal, Clark. I think you're doing a lot better than you realize."
"Then you don't think I'm hopeless?" Clark asked with a tiny half-smile.
"I think you're just lonely." He smiled back, trying his best to be reassuring. "The important thing is, you're trying. And you don't seem to have a problem controlling yourself anymore, so I'm not overly concerned. Coming back from something like this takes time."
The session came to an end far too quickly. On an impulse, Lex scribbled his home phone number on the back of one of his business cards and pressed it into Clark's hand as he got up to leave. "I don't normally do this with patients, but if you feel like you need to talk, call me. As long as it's at a relatively reasonable hour," he added with a grin.
Lex just can't resist him. Good.
Clark looked down at the card, blinking. "Th-thanks, but you don't have to-"
"It's all right, I want to do it. I know you won't abuse the privilege."
He spent the rest of the afternoon puttering around his office, trying to get paperwork done. Luckily, he didn't have any more patients to see, because his concentration seemed well and truly shot to hell. He decided to indulge in a rare dinner out at the local steakhouse, but found himself fidgeting and itching to leave long before his entre arrived, even with a glass of cabernet to steady his nerves.
Clark's really getting to him.
He got home a little before nine o'clock and fell right into bed, sleep devouring him like a giant black maw. And he dreamed. He dreamed of driving off a bridge, plunging into freezing water that crushed his lungs like a vise. And just as he was blacking out, a pair of huge, strong hands grabbed hold of him, pulling him free...
Dreams. I love dreams.
And then there was this bell ringing somewhere...
It was the damn telephone. He sat up groggily, grabbing for the receiver. "H'lo?"
"Dr. Luthor? It's Clark Kent. I hope I'm not calling too late."
He glanced at the clock. It was barely eleven. "N-No, it's all right. I'm not usually in bed this early."
"You sure? Because it sounds like I just woke you up."
"It's not a problem, Clark," he replied a bit testily, propping himself up on a pillow. "What can I do for you?"
"I-I went to bed early tonight, and I had this really weird dream. Only I think I've had it before."
Dramatic musical riff.
Talk about an uncanny coincidence. Suddenly Lex wasn't the least bit groggy anymore. "What kind of dream?" "I saw a car go over a bridge into a river, and I jumped in to pull the driver out. But when I laid the guy down on the ground to try and revive him... it was you."
This was beyond uncanny, even beyond bizarre. This was downright frightening. Something tight and icy was closing over Lex's throat, squeezing off his air. It was few seconds before he managed to shake the sensation, but it still left him trembling. He juggled the receiver to his other hand, sucking in a breath. What he was about to do went against every ethical boundary he'd set for himself, but right now that was less important than finding out what was going on here. "C-Clark, if I give you my home address, do you think you can come over? I'd rather not wait until our next session to talk about this."
And Lex takes a huge chance with the spooky.
Clark was on his doorstep a short while later, looking windblown and slightly damp. If Lex hadn't known better, he would've sworn Clark had run the whole way. He ushered Clark into the kitchen and handed him a cup of coffee, then sat down across the table from him. "So... you said you'd had this dream before?"
I love how Lex 'knows' Clark couldn't have run all the way there.
Clark nodded. "The first time was back when I was in Belle Reve."
"Why didn't you tell me about it then?"
"I-I don't know. It was just a dream. I didn't think it meant anything. I thought about telling you, but I figured it'd just freak you out."
And it was a good thing he hadn't, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting there talking with Lex.
"Clark, it's normal to dream about people you've just met. It wouldn't have upset me."
"But... the first time I had it was before I met you."
All Lex could do for several long moments was stare. "Now you're lying to me."
"I'm not, I swear I'm not. I-I just... I wish you remembered me, is all."
"Clark, there's nothing to remember. I never laid eyes on you until a month ago."
"But I remember you, Lex. I remember everything about you," Clark whispered. "We've known each other for years. I saved you from that car wreck. We lived together. We were lovers."
Jumped into the deep end, didn't he?
Dear God, he should have seen this coming. Clark was obviously more deeply disturbed than he'd ever suspected. But damn it, he should have suspected something. The red flags had all been there, waving right in front of his face, yet he'd still managed to brush aside every one of them. "Clark, listen to me," he said softly. "You've never saved me from a car wreck. I've never been in a car wreck. There's no way we could know each other."
"If it never happened, then why did you dream about it too?"
"H-How did you know I-"
Back away from the crazy man, Lex. But, still, how did he know?
"Well, you did, didn't you?" The calm, serene way Clark was looking at him now chilled Lex to the bone. He'd seen too many patients at Belle Reve with that same look on their faces, right before the orderlies strapped them into straitjackets. "You do remember me, even if you don't want to admit it."
"Clark, I-I think you may have been right about it being too early for you to be released from Belle Reve," Lex said slowly, reaching across the table to grasp his hand. "It's my fault. I should have listened to you when you told me you weren't ready to leave. If you want to go back tonight, I can arrange it. I'll drive you there myself."
"No! You're not sending me back there!" Clark cried, pulling away, pushing back from the table with such force he sent his chair skidding across the floor. "You said you didn't think I was crazy. You lied to me!"
Lex darted into the living room and grabbed his medical bag. By the time he got back to the kitchen, Clark was curled up in the far corner of the room, rocking back and forth, holding his head like he thought it would explode. Lex filled a syringe with a mild sedative and knelt down beside him, pushing up the sleeve of his flannel shirt. "This is just something to calm you down, okay?"
Snerk - flannel shirt - just can't escape them.
Clark gazed dully at the needle. "That won't work on me."
Lex found the vein easily, but the syringe refused to go in. It was like trying to give an injection to a boulder. He pushed harder, and the needle shattered. Clark didn't even flinch. "I told you," he said softly.
This was what going mad felt like. It had to be. Lex wasn't even sure of what he was seeing anymore. "H-How did you do that?"
"I'm not from around here, Lex. Neither are you. This isn't our Smallville. This isn't where either of us is supposed to be."
Clark is acting oddly, with symptoms (rocking, holding head, depressive), but also calmly insisting they don't belong there. Which is it? No wonder Lex is confused.
"Clark, if you're still trying to convince me you're sane, I think you should shut up now."
"What if I could show you something that would prove what I'm saying is true?"
"I don't see how that's possible."
"Just come with me," he said, wobbling a bit as he stood up. "It's only a little ways out of town, right on the road to Belle Reve. If you still don't believe me even after you've seen it, I promise I'll let you take me back to the hospital. Please, Lex."
Lex hesitated, weighing his options. The simplest and sanest solution would be to call the hospital and have them send an ambulance over, and that would be the end of it. They'd take Clark back and commit him against his will, but at least he'd get the help he needed. Of course, he'd probably be assigned to another doctor - as well he should, after the way Lex had bungled the case up till this point. Chances were, he'd never see Clark again. The thought filled him with sadness, but no doubt it was the best thing for both of them.
Or he could go along with Clark, and see what there was to see, if anything. In truth, Lex didn't see any harm in humoring him; even during his psychotic episode, Clark hadn't tried to hurt him. If it got him to go back to the hospital of his own accord, it was worth it.
They got in Lex's car and drove until they reached the five-mile marker just past the town limits. Lex was sorely tempted to keep on driving even after Clark told him to pull over, but he knew he'd regret it if he passed up this chance to see Clark's explanation for himself. There were too many unanswered questions here, and he needed them resolved, if only for his own peace of mind.
Brave, foolish man. Doesn't he watch movies? I'd be yelling at the screen about not remembering the rules about now.
They climbed out and started walking across an empty field. It had been raining earlier, and mud soon covered their shoes, so thick it felt like quicksand. Clark led the way into a dark, musty-smelling cave with high rock walls on all sides. There were paintings on the walls, though Lex couldn't make out much of what they depicted in the shuddery, anemic beam from the one flashlight that Clark was carrying.
"All right, so where's this explanation you have for me?"
"Right here," Clark replied, digging in his pocket, pulling out an octagonal hunk of metal. There were small symbols etched on it, similar to the symbols covering the cave walls. Clark held up the piece of metal, and it seemed to fly right out of his hand and into a slot on the wall directly in front of them.
If Lex wasn't sure what he was seeing before, now he surely had to be hallucinating. Because if he believed his eyes, the cave wall was splitting open, spewing forth a flood of multi-colored refracted light. He threw up an arm to shield his eyes, and felt Clark grab hold of him at the same time. A split-second later, the world exploded, disappeared and dissolved into black.
Why the hell didn't Clark just pick him up and bring him there weeks earlier? Still missing something here.
He woke in a soft bed that wasn't his own, a familiar protective arm slung around his waist. Clark was sleeping beside him, snoring softly into his ear. The air wafting around them was cool and gentle, the light enveloping them tinted a pale blue.
They were back at a familiar place that felt like home, despite the alien yet strangely beautiful ice formations arching overhead. A fortress. And suddenly Lex remembered how they'd gotten there. The portal down in the cave. The blinding light. Clark, shielding him with his body.
He remembered everything else too. He had two sets of memories now, two divergent paths that both still felt real to him. Well, of course they would - he'd lived them both. At least now he had the luxury of choosing which ones he wanted to believe.
Divergent paths - we're really talking alternate universe here!
Clark stirred and grunted, finally opening his eyes. "Hey," he murmured, "you're awake. The AI said you'd probably sleep all day."
"I guess I'm just anxious to find out where the hell I've been."
"All right," Clark said, getting up, handing Lex his robe. "Let's have something to eat while I tell you. This could take awhile."
Lex was on tenterhooks by the time they were ensconced at the table, their midday meal in front of them. Or maybe it was dinner. It hardly mattered what they were eating anyway - he was so nervous he couldn't swallow a bite.
"So tell me already," he prompted impatiently.
"You disappeared, Lex. Your father told everybody you'd slashed your wrists, but I didn't believe it. We'd been together the night before, and you weren't suicidal. When I saw the body lying there in the casket, I knew it was a lie. At first I thought it was a cloned body, but when I had the AI scan its DNA, it wasn't an exact copy. In fact, it wasn't a copy at all. It was you, Lex... only not from this timestream."
Was the DNA different or not? Different timestream? Clark's thinking zebras, not horses.
"So, when you said it wasn't our Smallville, you meant-"
"The timestream you were in was what Smallville would've turned out to be if the meteor shower had never happened. So naturally, you didn't know me. I never existed there."
No mutation? Is that what was different about the DNA? Hair?
"But apparently I did."
Clark nodded. "Lionel must have figured out how to use the cave portal to access the different timestreams. He found the version of you that existed in that parallel dimension, implanted you with his memories, and had you switch places. Then he killed the other you and passed off his body as yours."
Did Clark know the portal could do that before Lionel did? Did the AI?
It made a twisted kind of sense, if you could even apply sense to a situation like this. He'd known for years that his father wanted to be rid of him, but he'd never thought Lionel would seek out such otherworldly extremes to get the job done. "Jesus."
Twisted sense, indeed.
"Yeah."
"But... how could the AI even tell the difference between us, if we had the same DNA?"
"Not exactly the same -- the meteor shower changed you, remember? But by the time I'd figured that out and reprogrammed the AI to compensate, you'd already been gone awhile."
Ah, as I conjectured.
"So, how long was I there?"
Clark hesitated, swallowing hard. "Five years."
Lex suddenly felt very dizzy. "Y-You're not kidding, are you?"
"I wish I was. I would've found you sooner, but the portal can only access that particular timestream for a short time every couple of years. It's slightly out of phase with our reality, which is why I had such a hard time adjusting once I got there. It's sort of like an eclipse. If you miss it, all you can do is wait till the next one."
"I'm amazed you found me at all. I can only imagine how many thousands of different timestreams you had to sift through."
"Not thousands, millions. I was lucky I had the AI scanning for you, or I'd still be looking."
That's dedication! I love you, Clark!
"Thank God you were," Lex murmured. "I could've been stuck in that place for the rest of my life. Which is no doubt what my father had in mind."
"It didn't look like you had such a terrible life there," Clark said quietly.
"It was a lie, Clark. It wasn't my life, it belonged to a person who, by some fickle quirk of fate, just happened to look like me. I'm not about to exchange my destiny for someone else's."
So Lex just merged into the other timestream and no one noticed he was different. Whoa.
"Hey, at least you had a destiny. I was making mine up as I went."
"So what made you decide to masquerade as a lunatic? Wouldn't it have been simpler to just find me on the street and strike up a conversation?"
He was faking!
"What, like, 'Excuse me, but I'm your lover from another dimension, and I've come to take you home?'"
Lex laughed. "Point taken."
"As for the lunatic part... well, it wasn't much of a masquerade," Clark went on. "I really was starting to lose my mind. You had the memories of someone who was actually supposed to be there keeping you sane. I was just holding on by my fingernails, hoping I could get you out before the timestream closed and we were both stuck there for another two or three years."
Really interesting concept - the merging into existing memories, but with own body. Clark never existed in that reality, so couldn't fit in.
"You would've never survived another two or three years, not in the state you were in."
"I had to try. I couldn't just leave you there."
"My God, Clark, you risked your sanity for me. How can I ever repay that?"
"Oh, I can think of a way," Clark replied with a wink.
They went back to the soft white bed, and Clark pushed him down into the warm covers. They kissed with a hungry, almost manic desperation, exploring each other's bodies like it was their first time all over again. And, in a way, it was. Lex looked up into Clark's face, remembering the beautiful, lost young man he'd been in that other dimension, and felt his own heart breaking. It was only by mere chance that they'd found each other again. The enormity of that realization nearly overwhelmed him, and he clung to Clark like the lifeline he was, memorizing every kiss, every soft, smooth expanse of gorgeous skin. He'd never take any of this for granted again.
Can't help wondering what type of boys Lex looked for in the clubs...
He rolled onto his stomach while Clark took his sweet time licking and fingering and getting him ready, teasing Lex mercilessly before finally pushing inside him. They fucked like eager demons, moaning and thrusting then slowing down, trying to draw the pleasure out for as long as they could, clasping hands and entwining their fingers as they came. Clark rolled off with a spent, happy sigh, kissed Lex gently on the shoulder and fell asleep at his side again, one arm curled protectively around his waist.
Lex lay there a long time, watching the sky above the fortress darken, his own thoughts following a similar moody vein. He could have gone the rest of his life, twenty or thirty or fifty years, empty and alone in that parallel dimension if Clark hadn't found him. And the saddest part of it all was that the person he'd been in that other dimension would never have known the difference. His father hadn't just robbed him of five years of his life, he'd very nearly robbed him of every last shred of happiness and hope.
Lex was not about to let that pass.
There's our Lex! He was too mild-mannered in the other universe.
Kidnapping a billionaire wasn't nearly as difficult as it looked on paper, especially when one had access to LuthorCorp security codes and a superhero boyfriend in tow. They ambushed Lionel in the LuthorCorp Plaza parking lot, with Clark using his superspeed to knock out his bodyguards and throw a hood over his face before Lionel had a chance to get a look at either of them. They bound his wrists, tossed him in the trunk of a nondescript company fleet sedan, and headed for Smallville.
Flexible ethics, Clark?
Lex took a grim satisfaction in every bump, thump and indignant howl emanating from the trunk, but, luckily, Lionel seemed to have worn himself out by the time they pulled over to the side of the road a short distance from the caves. He didn't resist when Clark finally hauled him out of the trunk and led him underground.
He fell to his knees with a grunt when Lex pushed him down and whipped off the hood, then blinked, his jaw working, plainly dumbfounded.
"Hello, Dad," Lex said with a smirk. "Bet you thought you'd never see me again."
"S-Son... my God... I-I thought you were dead!"
"You can drop the bereaved-father act. It's about five years too late."
His expression morphed from stunned to steely, all in the blink of an eye. "So you know, then."
"Well, at least you're not insulting my intelligence by pretending to be sorry about it."
"I did what I had to do, son. I was tired of your endless attempts to overthrow me. When an opponent won't back down, you find a way to take him out of the game."
"So why the elaborate subterfuge? Why not just kill me?"
That's what I'd like to know.
"I couldn't take the chance that I wouldn't need you alive somewhere down the line. And if I didn't... well, it wouldn't make any difference. For all intents and purposes, the rest of the world thinks you're dead."
Right, and how would Lionel resurrect him if he had decided he needed him?
"Well, that's rather convenient, don't you think?" Lex drawled, grabbing Lionel by his shirtfront, dragging him to his feet. "Because now nobody will come after me for killing you."
He nodded to Clark, who pulled the octagonal key from his pocket and held it up. The key flew to its slot on the wall, and the portal slowly began to open. Lex shoved Lionel toward it so hard his father nearly went sprawling.
"Of course, you probably won't die," Lex went on. "Maybe if you're lucky, you'll end up in the same dimension you sent me to, and you can find your other self and kill him and take his place. That is, if you don't go insane first."
Cold, so very cold. What if Lionel just happened to be good in that other universe? I'm finding it hard to believe Clark would condone this.
"L-Lex, you can't be serious about this. I'm your father, for God's sake!"
"Since when has that ever mattered to you?" He shoved Lionel again, until they were both so close to the portal they could feel its whirlwind force battering their faces. Lex stepped back and gestured to Clark, who came up behind Lionel and grabbed him by the belt, barely keeping him from being sucked into the cave wall. "What's the matter, Dad? You look a little scared."
"Go ahead, throw me in," Lionel sneered. "What're you waiting for?"
"I want to hear you beg," Lex said coldly. "Beg me for your life."
"You're insane!"
"Brave words, coming from a man about to be hurled into a raging vortex. Let go of him, Clark."
"N-No! God, no! I-I... please, Lex!"
"Please, what?"
"Please..." he rasped, "don't do this to me." For a split-second, Lex could've sworn he glimpsed genuine terror in his father's eyes. "Let me walk out of here, son. Let me live."
Not exactly effusive, but coming from Lionel it was tantamount to abject groveling. Lex nodded to Clark, who pulled Lionel back from portal and let him go. He landed on his knees again, breathing hard, head hanging down. Dark, telltale splotches of panic-piss stained the front of his slacks.
Whew, I was getting worried.
Lex circled around, cutting the bindings from Lionel's wrists while Clark closed the portal. He hadn't expected any sincere outpouring of gratitude or newfound fatherly affection, and felt a pang of perverse, ironic gratification when it appeared neither was forthcoming. It made what he was about to say that much sweeter.
"This is the end, old man." He stood up, letting the twine he'd used to tie Lionel's wrists flutter to the ground. "The world thinks I'm dead, so you might as well keep up the pretense. I don't want your name. I don't want your money, or LuthorCorp, or anything else that belongs to you. What I want is to never see or hear from you again."
So Lex just wanted his pound of flesh because he could have left Lionel none the wiser about his return.
Lionel didn't reply, or move, not even to lift his head.
They left him kneeling there, silent and broken, and walked back to the car to start the long drive back to Metropolis. Neither of them spoke again until Smallville was fading in the rearview mirror.
"You scared me back there," Clark said finally.
Me, too!
"What, did you actually think I'd throw him in?"
"Truth is, I was half-hoping you would. He's poisoned your life long enough already."
"I'm surprised at you, Clark. You're not usually so cold-blooded."
Me, too!
"Where your father's concerned, I can make an exception."
"I think he'll leave us alone, now that he knows I'm not interested in being his competition. He was less afraid of dying than he was of me trying to take LuthorCorp away from him again."
"You still could, you know. It's not like you haven't risen from the dead before."
"Not if it was the last job left in the world."
Smart man.
Clark swung the sedan onto the freeway onramp and drove on in silence for a few miles, fingers tapping idly on the wheel. "Well, I guess you'll have to move in with me, seeing as you're now officially homeless."
"Thanks. I'll try not to get underfoot too much."
"Hey, I don't mind. We've got five years' worth of catching up to do." He grinned. "So what're you going to do, now that you've torpedoed your career as a future captain of industry?"
"To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought."
"You're a blank slate now. Not too many people ever get an opportunity like that."
No, Lex realized, they didn't. For most of his life he'd wished he could change his path, do anything but be his father's son and heir. The pressure on him had been incredible, and now, miraculously, that pressure had disappeared. He was finally his own man, with no expectations laid upon him, no destiny other than what he chose to make of it. For the first time in his life, he was truly free.
As soon as he establishes a new identity, of course.
"I don't know," he mused softly, reaching over to grasp Clark's hand, "but something tells me I wouldn't make a bad doctor."
Nice ending, driving off into the sunset together.
-- End