Hidden Intentions (Part 12/?)
Title: Hidden Intentions (Part 12/?)
Author: hoperoy
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Clark/Lex,
Word count: 2,967
Warnings: Dubious seduction, vague spoilers for "Justice," and mpreg.
Summary: After a failed mission for the fledgling Justice League, Clark finds himself completely at Lex's mercy. When Clark begins to feel sick, Lex's real intentions are revealed.
Author's Note: Thanks to danceswithgary for the beta.
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[Four and a half years later]
Clark sighed as he absently watched the floor number rise along with the elevator. Now that he was headed home, he had to admit to himself that he hadn't had such a bad day in a long time. He loved his job--he honestly did--but it certainly had its problems.
Mainly, one Lois Lane.
Ever since Clark had disappeared for nine months over four years ago, only to resurface as Lex Luthor's significant other, she'd been trying to find out why. After becoming his partner at the Daily Planet, that search had become more intense. Not even Chloe--who knew the whole story--could dissuade her.
Actually, the only thing that Lois was more obsessive about than where Clark had gone was finding something on Lex. That, Clark was convinced, was her life's ambition. She *hated* Lex, and as the person closest to Lex, Clark often bore the brunt of her animosity.
The elevator finally stopped and then opened silently, letting Clark out into the hallway of the penthouse that he called home. Emerging out onto the plush carpeting, he could hear noises coming from the kitchen. As tired as he was, he still smiled and headed in that general direction.
As soon as Clark stepped through the door, he was met with the happy cries of a young girl. Moments later, his arms were full of warm little girl.
"Daddy! You're home!"
It was a ritual of sorts: every day when Clark came home, Lena would greet him--provided that she wasn't angry with him--and latch onto him as though he hadn't been around in ages. It was kind of nice, he thought, especially after the day that he'd had.
"Hey, honey," he murmured, scooping her up in his arms before glancing up at Lex, who was seated at the table with some paperwork.
Although Lex flashed him a slight smile, Clark could see his gaze sweeping over him, finding the stiffness in his shoulders and the stress on his face that wouldn't be visible to anyone but Lex. "Lena, I'd like it if you could go play. Daddy and I have things we need to discuss," Lex calmly requested.
She sighed dramatically, her arms tightening around Clark's neck. "But I want Daddy to play with me!"
His daughter's protests made him feel a little better, as did Lex's understanding. Lex took care of both of them, just as much as Clark, in ways that Lex wouldn't admit, took care of Lex. Half the time, Lex didn't know-he had no idea that Clark was involved at all. He'd never know about the files that Clark handed over to the media--files exposing branches of Level 33.1. The information Clark supplied had lead to the discovery of some of the largest secret facilities and, in the face of public outrage and the fear of discovery, the government had forced Lex to shut those branches down. Because of the information Clark had delivered, Lex's work had been compromised.
But Lex had never linked to any of it.
Clark had made certain he wasn't.
Grinning at her protests, Clark planted a light kiss in his daughter's hair before setting her down. "I'll play with you after Papa and I are done," he promised.
"Fine," she replied with another sigh, huffing in annoyance. Her tiny brows scrunched together in frustration as she turned to leave the room.
As he watched her flounce away, Clark couldn't help but think of how Lex had been right: Lena *did* look like him. It was obvious in nearly every physical aspect. Her hair was dark and thick, and her eyes were his sea-green. She even had his high cheekbones.
Had Lena's mind not been more like Lex's, no one would have ever guessed who her other parent was. As it was, most people wouldn't, unless they knew Lex well... and unless they were willing to consider the impossible. Like Lex, Lena was a genius, brilliant in ways that Clark couldn't begin to understand. He was intelligent, but Lex and Lena were something more--possessing minds that thought constantly and in ways most people couldn't comprehend. Clark, though smart, wasn't like that--he couldn't match the level of Lex's intellect or, as he was beginning to suspect, his daughter's.
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" Lex asked once Lena had left the room.
Turning around, Clark was faced with blue eyes filled with intense scrutiny. Lex always looked at him like that when he knew something was wrong and, as always, it left Clark feeling uncomfortable and laid bare.
"Hard day," he replied slowly, trying to choose his words. Lex already hated Lois--he didn't want to make things appear worse than Lex already knew they were.
Sighing, Lex got up from the table and advanced towards him. "I can always get her fired, Clark," he said coldly. Clark knew he'd have liked to.
"And give her a valid reason to hate you? No, I'd rather you didn't."
Lex's eyes darkened a shade--they always did whenever Lois was mentioned--and he raised a hand to brush Clark's hair back gently. Clark liked it when he did that, because it was something that Lex did when he knew Clark needed soothing. "I've already given her plenty of valid reasons to hate me," Lex reminded him as he leaned up to kiss Clark. When he pulled away, he added, "None of which she can use."
"No, Lex," Clark muttered, arching his neck to give Lex better access when the kiss progressed lower, trailing over his neck. "You can't get her fired just because she's hard on me."
Lex had offered at least five times before, and Clark's answer was always the same. The thing was, he knew that Lex truly would get her fired--he wasn't playing. He'd really do that just to make Clark's life easier.
It was sweet, in a warped, demented sort of way.
"Clark, she has no right to harass you." Lex reproached him gently, untucking Clark's shirt and slipping a hand up and under it. "You could file charges against her."
Clark moaned quietly at the feel of the hands working their way across the hard planes of his stomach. Lex was always so good about touching him in the ways he enjoyed. "You know I'd never do that. Besides, she's not wrong about everything, and do we really want people investigating? I've told her that Lena is the result of a one-night stand, but she doesn't believe it, and she'll tell the police that, too."
"Then get another job. Hell, *I'll* get you another job."
"No," Clark replied immediately. He'd told Lex from the beginning that anything he earned would be his achievement, and he planned to stick to that. Lex had already put him through college--he still supplied the place where they both lived. Clark wanted everything else to be his own doing. "You know I won't accept your help in this."
That had always been a point of major frustration for Lex. He wanted to do as much as he could for Clark, and while Clark knew he understood why that didn't work, it didn't stop him from wanting to.
"Clark, you don't even have to work at all," Lex muttered, finally pulling his hands away from Clark. They had a four year old who could walk into the room at any time, and activities like the one they were rapidly heading towards were reserved for a bed behind locked bedroom doors.
"What, and waste a journalism degree?" he asked. "You paid for all my college; still pay for the place where we live; and right up until I got my first paycheck, you paid for everything else, too. I want to feel like I'm at least a little self-sufficient."
Lex had never been particularly happy about Clark's stubbornness. Nonetheless, Clark knew Lex understood the need to feel as though he had power over his own life. Lex had suffered, powerlessness under Lionel, and while he might have wanted all of Clark, Lex didn't want to Clark to feel he was in the same situation.
"You are, Clark," Lex assured him, sighing as he gently curled his fingers around Clark's elbow. "Speaking of which, you want to pick Lena up from school tomorrow? I have a meeting."
Clark nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"Thanks," Lex replied. Pausing, he gave Clark another once-over. "Are you sure you're all right, Clark?"
Sure? No, but he was going to be. He had a good life--he liked his life--and his work partner wasn't going to ruin what he had. Clark wouldn't let her.
"Yes," Clark reassured him with a quirk of his lips and nod of his head. "It was just kind of a hard day. Tomorrow will be better."
Clark's sunny outlook on life always caused Lex to smile so that the corners of his mouth turned up in a way bordering on cute and, best of all, Clark knew that smile was reserved for him.
He loved it.
"Always the eternal optimist, hmm?" Lex laughed, giving Clark a light kiss on the lips. "Now, I think you have a daughter who's waiting to play with you.
Clark matched his grin as he turned away to head off in search of his daughter. "Can *we* play later?" he asked over his shoulder when he reached the door.
Fire flared in Lex's eyes. "Count on it," he murmured. Clark loved the way his mouth twitched into a dirty little smirk, already making promises about all the things that mouth could do. "We'll make it an early night."
Promises like that made something warm and excited curl up inside Clark. Lex always touched him just how he needed, always made Clark feel special. What they had might have started out rocky, but it had become something good along the way.
Dysfunctional, perhaps, but still good.
Laughing, Clark headed out of the room, feeling like a very lucky man. So what if his job wasn't perfect? His home life was pretty damn special, he thought with a grin.
-------------------------------------------------------
"Is Papa going to be home early tonight?"
Clark glanced over at his daughter, whom he had just picked up from school. "I think so, why?"
She sighed theatrically and made a face. "Miss Lawrence gave me a *super* hard worksheet, and I want his help."
Unable to suppress a grin, Clark nodded. Lex was unexpectedly good at explaining all things academic to their daughter. Clark would never have believed he'd have the patience, but he never failed in his detailed explanations of nouns and verbs and mathematics, and Lena preferred his help to Clark's.
"I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you," he assured her. Lex always was--he actually seemed to enjoy it.
The rest of his promise was cut off when his cell phone rang. Sighing, Clark pulled off onto a little-used side street before parking the car next to the curb. He'd never liked to talk on a cell phone while driving.
The caller ID informed him that it was Lex. "Hey, Lex," he greeted, some of his annoyance lessening. Lena, clearly bored, began looking out the window.
*Clark, I need you to come home right now. Whatever you're doing, just come home.*
The worry in Lex's voice was sharp, so palpable over the line that Clark found himself tensing. Lex almost never sounded that edgy.
"Lex, are you okay?" he asked. "What's wrong?" He looked down when he felt a sharp tugging on his sleeve. "Just a second, Lex," he interrupted, covering his mouthpiece and turning to his daughter. "Honey, I'm talking to Papa. What is it?"
Lena wasn't even looking at him--her gaze was fixed on something outside the window. Out of habit, Clark glanced up to see what had caught her attention. It didn't take him more than a second to decide that maybe he ought to be staring at it, too.
Clark had heard stories of carjacking and murders, but he'd never thought that he might be a victim of one. Had he not been looking directly at the man standing a few feet from his car, he still might not believe it.
Whoever the man might be, a black mask obscured his face, and the gun in his hand made his intentions all too clear.
Immediately, Clark dropped his hand from the mouthpiece of his phone. "There's a man holding a gun outside my car, Lex," he managed to force out, anxiety making the words difficult to say.
*"Fuck."*
The stark fear in Lex's voice was unmistakable, and Clark felt his heart plummet. Lex never sounded like that unless something was outside of his control.
*"It's going to be all right, Clark. It's not what you think it is--they won't harm you. Just do whatever they say and take care of Lena. It's going to be all right.*
Lex was speaking rapidly, as if he were racing to get the words out of his mouth. Clark understood why a moment later when the man outside of the car made a jerking motion that clearly signaled for Clark to put the phone down. Shakily, Clark let it drop from his hand and land on the floor of the car, not disconnecting the call on purpose.
"Daddy," Lena choked out, frightened.
With trembling fingers, Clark reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt, quickly pulling her from her seat and into his lap. He felt better with his arms around her, as if he were more in control. At the very least, he might be able to protect her better, frustrated because he wasn't invulnerable and it was the best he could do.
Keeping his gun drawn and visible, the man approached the driver's side door and opened it. "Get out," he ordered, speaking for the first time in a cold, automated voice that revealed he was using a voice modifier.
Not knowing what else to do, Clark did as he'd been ordered, carrying his daughter with him. She was clinging to him tightly, but she hadn't started to cry. More than likely, it was because she was too scared to make a sound.
In all honesty, Clark almost felt the same way.
It wasn't unexpected when the man pointed, expecting Clark to move further down the side street. He'd been unlucky enough to stop in an area where the windowless walls of buildings bordered the road on both sides--no one was going to see him. There would be no witnesses to whatever was about to happen.
At the end of the street, parked on the side of the road, was a black van. Even through the haze of fear, Clark found himself thinking that a black van seemed almost clichéd. Did all criminals use black vans? How was he even managing to think about that? Everything seemed to have gone insane.
The man gestured for Clark to walk up to the back of the van to where he'd stopped. Carefully, he opened the rear door, making it clear that he still had his gun trained on Clark. "Get in," he ordered, once the door was open.
Clark didn't know what else he could do other than listen to the man. He'd never felt his mortality so strongly before. If he were to be shot, he'd feel it like any normal man, and he'd die here in the alley, leaving his daughter alone. "Daddy," Lena whimpered against him, clutching him a little tighter as if she felt his fear. "Daddy, what are you doing?"
"Shhh, baby," he whispered as he climbed into the back of the van. Carefully, he let one hand drift up to stroke her dark hair back--his hair. Because she was his child, formed from him and Lex, and the enormity of that miracle was hitting him in a way that it never had before.
This child that he was holding wasn't normal--she was like him. She looked like him and, while she hadn't shown that she had any abilities, Clark knew she couldn't be *human* normal. If anyone looked hard enough, the differences would be there to find. She'd probably develop abilities, as she grew older. If these people wanted to, they could discover enough to conduct experiments on her for the rest of her life.
The very thought left him feeling more nauseated than morning sickness or fear for himself ever had.
As soon as Clark climbed into the van, it became obvious that the man who had forced him out of his car wasn't the only one in on the kidnapping. There were two more men visible in the darkness, both of whom grasped his arms and pulled him forward. Their grips weren't rough, merely firm, something that Clark didn't understand. He'd expected bad treatment, not a firm command.
They didn't address him as they settled him back against the wall, nor did they attempt to take Lena from him. If they hadn't been seated on either side of him, their presence might not have been noticeable.
It became *very* noticeable when, as he shifted a little in an attempt to test their limits, he felt a gun being shoved against his ribs.
Feeling the cold muzzle of the gun, Clark's breath caught in his throat, and he stiffened. While these people might not be interested in needlessly hurting him, it was clear that they had their orders, and they were planning to follow them. He wasn't going anywhere.
Trying to take a deep breath and relax, Clark sat back against the wall and held his daughter against him. For the time being, his options were limited. He'd have to wait to find a way out.
Author: hoperoy
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Clark/Lex,
Word count: 2,967
Warnings: Dubious seduction, vague spoilers for "Justice," and mpreg.
Summary: After a failed mission for the fledgling Justice League, Clark finds himself completely at Lex's mercy. When Clark begins to feel sick, Lex's real intentions are revealed.
Author's Note: Thanks to danceswithgary for the beta.
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[Four and a half years later]
Clark sighed as he absently watched the floor number rise along with the elevator. Now that he was headed home, he had to admit to himself that he hadn't had such a bad day in a long time. He loved his job--he honestly did--but it certainly had its problems.
Mainly, one Lois Lane.
Ever since Clark had disappeared for nine months over four years ago, only to resurface as Lex Luthor's significant other, she'd been trying to find out why. After becoming his partner at the Daily Planet, that search had become more intense. Not even Chloe--who knew the whole story--could dissuade her.
Actually, the only thing that Lois was more obsessive about than where Clark had gone was finding something on Lex. That, Clark was convinced, was her life's ambition. She *hated* Lex, and as the person closest to Lex, Clark often bore the brunt of her animosity.
The elevator finally stopped and then opened silently, letting Clark out into the hallway of the penthouse that he called home. Emerging out onto the plush carpeting, he could hear noises coming from the kitchen. As tired as he was, he still smiled and headed in that general direction.
As soon as Clark stepped through the door, he was met with the happy cries of a young girl. Moments later, his arms were full of warm little girl.
"Daddy! You're home!"
It was a ritual of sorts: every day when Clark came home, Lena would greet him--provided that she wasn't angry with him--and latch onto him as though he hadn't been around in ages. It was kind of nice, he thought, especially after the day that he'd had.
"Hey, honey," he murmured, scooping her up in his arms before glancing up at Lex, who was seated at the table with some paperwork.
Although Lex flashed him a slight smile, Clark could see his gaze sweeping over him, finding the stiffness in his shoulders and the stress on his face that wouldn't be visible to anyone but Lex. "Lena, I'd like it if you could go play. Daddy and I have things we need to discuss," Lex calmly requested.
She sighed dramatically, her arms tightening around Clark's neck. "But I want Daddy to play with me!"
His daughter's protests made him feel a little better, as did Lex's understanding. Lex took care of both of them, just as much as Clark, in ways that Lex wouldn't admit, took care of Lex. Half the time, Lex didn't know-he had no idea that Clark was involved at all. He'd never know about the files that Clark handed over to the media--files exposing branches of Level 33.1. The information Clark supplied had lead to the discovery of some of the largest secret facilities and, in the face of public outrage and the fear of discovery, the government had forced Lex to shut those branches down. Because of the information Clark had delivered, Lex's work had been compromised.
But Lex had never linked to any of it.
Clark had made certain he wasn't.
Grinning at her protests, Clark planted a light kiss in his daughter's hair before setting her down. "I'll play with you after Papa and I are done," he promised.
"Fine," she replied with another sigh, huffing in annoyance. Her tiny brows scrunched together in frustration as she turned to leave the room.
As he watched her flounce away, Clark couldn't help but think of how Lex had been right: Lena *did* look like him. It was obvious in nearly every physical aspect. Her hair was dark and thick, and her eyes were his sea-green. She even had his high cheekbones.
Had Lena's mind not been more like Lex's, no one would have ever guessed who her other parent was. As it was, most people wouldn't, unless they knew Lex well... and unless they were willing to consider the impossible. Like Lex, Lena was a genius, brilliant in ways that Clark couldn't begin to understand. He was intelligent, but Lex and Lena were something more--possessing minds that thought constantly and in ways most people couldn't comprehend. Clark, though smart, wasn't like that--he couldn't match the level of Lex's intellect or, as he was beginning to suspect, his daughter's.
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" Lex asked once Lena had left the room.
Turning around, Clark was faced with blue eyes filled with intense scrutiny. Lex always looked at him like that when he knew something was wrong and, as always, it left Clark feeling uncomfortable and laid bare.
"Hard day," he replied slowly, trying to choose his words. Lex already hated Lois--he didn't want to make things appear worse than Lex already knew they were.
Sighing, Lex got up from the table and advanced towards him. "I can always get her fired, Clark," he said coldly. Clark knew he'd have liked to.
"And give her a valid reason to hate you? No, I'd rather you didn't."
Lex's eyes darkened a shade--they always did whenever Lois was mentioned--and he raised a hand to brush Clark's hair back gently. Clark liked it when he did that, because it was something that Lex did when he knew Clark needed soothing. "I've already given her plenty of valid reasons to hate me," Lex reminded him as he leaned up to kiss Clark. When he pulled away, he added, "None of which she can use."
"No, Lex," Clark muttered, arching his neck to give Lex better access when the kiss progressed lower, trailing over his neck. "You can't get her fired just because she's hard on me."
Lex had offered at least five times before, and Clark's answer was always the same. The thing was, he knew that Lex truly would get her fired--he wasn't playing. He'd really do that just to make Clark's life easier.
It was sweet, in a warped, demented sort of way.
"Clark, she has no right to harass you." Lex reproached him gently, untucking Clark's shirt and slipping a hand up and under it. "You could file charges against her."
Clark moaned quietly at the feel of the hands working their way across the hard planes of his stomach. Lex was always so good about touching him in the ways he enjoyed. "You know I'd never do that. Besides, she's not wrong about everything, and do we really want people investigating? I've told her that Lena is the result of a one-night stand, but she doesn't believe it, and she'll tell the police that, too."
"Then get another job. Hell, *I'll* get you another job."
"No," Clark replied immediately. He'd told Lex from the beginning that anything he earned would be his achievement, and he planned to stick to that. Lex had already put him through college--he still supplied the place where they both lived. Clark wanted everything else to be his own doing. "You know I won't accept your help in this."
That had always been a point of major frustration for Lex. He wanted to do as much as he could for Clark, and while Clark knew he understood why that didn't work, it didn't stop him from wanting to.
"Clark, you don't even have to work at all," Lex muttered, finally pulling his hands away from Clark. They had a four year old who could walk into the room at any time, and activities like the one they were rapidly heading towards were reserved for a bed behind locked bedroom doors.
"What, and waste a journalism degree?" he asked. "You paid for all my college; still pay for the place where we live; and right up until I got my first paycheck, you paid for everything else, too. I want to feel like I'm at least a little self-sufficient."
Lex had never been particularly happy about Clark's stubbornness. Nonetheless, Clark knew Lex understood the need to feel as though he had power over his own life. Lex had suffered, powerlessness under Lionel, and while he might have wanted all of Clark, Lex didn't want to Clark to feel he was in the same situation.
"You are, Clark," Lex assured him, sighing as he gently curled his fingers around Clark's elbow. "Speaking of which, you want to pick Lena up from school tomorrow? I have a meeting."
Clark nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"Thanks," Lex replied. Pausing, he gave Clark another once-over. "Are you sure you're all right, Clark?"
Sure? No, but he was going to be. He had a good life--he liked his life--and his work partner wasn't going to ruin what he had. Clark wouldn't let her.
"Yes," Clark reassured him with a quirk of his lips and nod of his head. "It was just kind of a hard day. Tomorrow will be better."
Clark's sunny outlook on life always caused Lex to smile so that the corners of his mouth turned up in a way bordering on cute and, best of all, Clark knew that smile was reserved for him.
He loved it.
"Always the eternal optimist, hmm?" Lex laughed, giving Clark a light kiss on the lips. "Now, I think you have a daughter who's waiting to play with you.
Clark matched his grin as he turned away to head off in search of his daughter. "Can *we* play later?" he asked over his shoulder when he reached the door.
Fire flared in Lex's eyes. "Count on it," he murmured. Clark loved the way his mouth twitched into a dirty little smirk, already making promises about all the things that mouth could do. "We'll make it an early night."
Promises like that made something warm and excited curl up inside Clark. Lex always touched him just how he needed, always made Clark feel special. What they had might have started out rocky, but it had become something good along the way.
Dysfunctional, perhaps, but still good.
Laughing, Clark headed out of the room, feeling like a very lucky man. So what if his job wasn't perfect? His home life was pretty damn special, he thought with a grin.
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"Is Papa going to be home early tonight?"
Clark glanced over at his daughter, whom he had just picked up from school. "I think so, why?"
She sighed theatrically and made a face. "Miss Lawrence gave me a *super* hard worksheet, and I want his help."
Unable to suppress a grin, Clark nodded. Lex was unexpectedly good at explaining all things academic to their daughter. Clark would never have believed he'd have the patience, but he never failed in his detailed explanations of nouns and verbs and mathematics, and Lena preferred his help to Clark's.
"I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you," he assured her. Lex always was--he actually seemed to enjoy it.
The rest of his promise was cut off when his cell phone rang. Sighing, Clark pulled off onto a little-used side street before parking the car next to the curb. He'd never liked to talk on a cell phone while driving.
The caller ID informed him that it was Lex. "Hey, Lex," he greeted, some of his annoyance lessening. Lena, clearly bored, began looking out the window.
*Clark, I need you to come home right now. Whatever you're doing, just come home.*
The worry in Lex's voice was sharp, so palpable over the line that Clark found himself tensing. Lex almost never sounded that edgy.
"Lex, are you okay?" he asked. "What's wrong?" He looked down when he felt a sharp tugging on his sleeve. "Just a second, Lex," he interrupted, covering his mouthpiece and turning to his daughter. "Honey, I'm talking to Papa. What is it?"
Lena wasn't even looking at him--her gaze was fixed on something outside the window. Out of habit, Clark glanced up to see what had caught her attention. It didn't take him more than a second to decide that maybe he ought to be staring at it, too.
Clark had heard stories of carjacking and murders, but he'd never thought that he might be a victim of one. Had he not been looking directly at the man standing a few feet from his car, he still might not believe it.
Whoever the man might be, a black mask obscured his face, and the gun in his hand made his intentions all too clear.
Immediately, Clark dropped his hand from the mouthpiece of his phone. "There's a man holding a gun outside my car, Lex," he managed to force out, anxiety making the words difficult to say.
*"Fuck."*
The stark fear in Lex's voice was unmistakable, and Clark felt his heart plummet. Lex never sounded like that unless something was outside of his control.
*"It's going to be all right, Clark. It's not what you think it is--they won't harm you. Just do whatever they say and take care of Lena. It's going to be all right.*
Lex was speaking rapidly, as if he were racing to get the words out of his mouth. Clark understood why a moment later when the man outside of the car made a jerking motion that clearly signaled for Clark to put the phone down. Shakily, Clark let it drop from his hand and land on the floor of the car, not disconnecting the call on purpose.
"Daddy," Lena choked out, frightened.
With trembling fingers, Clark reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt, quickly pulling her from her seat and into his lap. He felt better with his arms around her, as if he were more in control. At the very least, he might be able to protect her better, frustrated because he wasn't invulnerable and it was the best he could do.
Keeping his gun drawn and visible, the man approached the driver's side door and opened it. "Get out," he ordered, speaking for the first time in a cold, automated voice that revealed he was using a voice modifier.
Not knowing what else to do, Clark did as he'd been ordered, carrying his daughter with him. She was clinging to him tightly, but she hadn't started to cry. More than likely, it was because she was too scared to make a sound.
In all honesty, Clark almost felt the same way.
It wasn't unexpected when the man pointed, expecting Clark to move further down the side street. He'd been unlucky enough to stop in an area where the windowless walls of buildings bordered the road on both sides--no one was going to see him. There would be no witnesses to whatever was about to happen.
At the end of the street, parked on the side of the road, was a black van. Even through the haze of fear, Clark found himself thinking that a black van seemed almost clichéd. Did all criminals use black vans? How was he even managing to think about that? Everything seemed to have gone insane.
The man gestured for Clark to walk up to the back of the van to where he'd stopped. Carefully, he opened the rear door, making it clear that he still had his gun trained on Clark. "Get in," he ordered, once the door was open.
Clark didn't know what else he could do other than listen to the man. He'd never felt his mortality so strongly before. If he were to be shot, he'd feel it like any normal man, and he'd die here in the alley, leaving his daughter alone. "Daddy," Lena whimpered against him, clutching him a little tighter as if she felt his fear. "Daddy, what are you doing?"
"Shhh, baby," he whispered as he climbed into the back of the van. Carefully, he let one hand drift up to stroke her dark hair back--his hair. Because she was his child, formed from him and Lex, and the enormity of that miracle was hitting him in a way that it never had before.
This child that he was holding wasn't normal--she was like him. She looked like him and, while she hadn't shown that she had any abilities, Clark knew she couldn't be *human* normal. If anyone looked hard enough, the differences would be there to find. She'd probably develop abilities, as she grew older. If these people wanted to, they could discover enough to conduct experiments on her for the rest of her life.
The very thought left him feeling more nauseated than morning sickness or fear for himself ever had.
As soon as Clark climbed into the van, it became obvious that the man who had forced him out of his car wasn't the only one in on the kidnapping. There were two more men visible in the darkness, both of whom grasped his arms and pulled him forward. Their grips weren't rough, merely firm, something that Clark didn't understand. He'd expected bad treatment, not a firm command.
They didn't address him as they settled him back against the wall, nor did they attempt to take Lena from him. If they hadn't been seated on either side of him, their presence might not have been noticeable.
It became *very* noticeable when, as he shifted a little in an attempt to test their limits, he felt a gun being shoved against his ribs.
Feeling the cold muzzle of the gun, Clark's breath caught in his throat, and he stiffened. While these people might not be interested in needlessly hurting him, it was clear that they had their orders, and they were planning to follow them. He wasn't going anywhere.
Trying to take a deep breath and relax, Clark sat back against the wall and held his daughter against him. For the time being, his options were limited. He'd have to wait to find a way out.