Can't Find My Way Home, Chapter Sixty-Eight
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Disclaimer: ‘Smallville’ and certain characters belong to Miller-Gough et. al. No profit is gained from this writing. Only, hopefully, enjoyment.
He’d never been in a fire, didn’t quite know what to expect. Sure, Lex knew it’d be hot and smoky and hard to see, but none of that prepared him really. It wasn’t hot; it was boiling. He could barely see a foot in front of him, the clouds of smoke and flame were so high. He couldn’t breathe.
Bruce grabbed his shoulder, kept a hand on him at all times, and Lex was glad he wasn’t alone. They dashed across the lobby of the Centre over to the stairwell. Lex pushed past Bruce as they climbed up to the second floor, then the third. He’d only been up here once, maybe twice in his whole life, but when he slammed the stairwell door open and stepped out. . .
He could smell the smoke from down below, but the fire hadn’t caught up here yet. He didn’t know which way to go, didn’t know what was the likeliest place they’d be. The display cases down the right hall? Or the library straight ahead?
But there was a shout and a sudden crash to the left, and before he knew it, Lex was running full out towards his father’s office. As he and Bruce tore off down the hall, the shouts resolved into Lucas’ hoarse voice. And once around the corner, it was easy to see that both doors were flung wide open and several people were inside the room.
“Stop it!” Lucas was shouting. “You’re killing him!”
Just as he was about to race inside, Bruce grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. They banged into the wall on the right and Lex was about to yell at him to get off, when his mouth was covered.
“We’ve got to assess before we go in,” Bruce whispered. The people inside were all still too focused on each other to have noticed Lex and Bruce’s arrival. “Stay here,” and then the hand was gone and Bruce almost slithered farther down the hall.
“You can’t do this!” came Lucas’ pleading voice. “Just-- just think of all that work, Lionel! All of it’s gone if he dies!”
“No, Lex-- ” Bruce started to say, reaching out to try and stop him.
If he dies. . . If he dies. . . If he dies. . .
The first guard’s back was to the door. He was pointing a gun down at someone curled on the floor. Lex didn’t even take the time to see who it was, but there were only a few people it could be. He quietly moved close to the man, balling his hand into a fist. His right hand slid up to cup the side of the man’s head, while he sent the bottom edge of his left slamming into the guy’s temple, knocking him out before he even knew Lex was there.
There was silence for a heartbeat, then guard number two over by the windows turned his gun on Lex, and away from Colin. Lex pulled the mask off, looking down at Lin’s still form.
“Alexander! What do you think you’re doi-- !”
Lex ignored Lionel, crouching down next to Lin just as a large dark shadow detached itself from the wall near the windows. He heard Bruce disarming the other guard, and felt air as Lucas moved past him, but his eyes were all for Lin.
He looked. . . not good. At first, Lex’s heart had almost stopped in fear. Lin was grey, not pale. There were veins and blood vessels straining against what was visible of his skin, green and black, and. . . hard. But, as Lex reached out a hand to touch him, the worst was the look on his face. His mouth wide in a scream, and his eyes open and. . . blue, a pale, pale blue Lex had never seen before except in pictures of Huskies, Lin was in agony. He was curled up in a fetal position, his chest barely moving.
Lex began searching. He ran his hands up and down and still found nothing, no trace whatsoever of any green meteorite. But that’s what it had to be. That was the only thing that would be able to keep Lin down. It had to be there somewhere.
“Jesus Christ!” Lionel shouted, and Lex glanced up. Bruce had finished with the guard and was now stalking towards Lionel. They were behind the desk, Bruce moving closer and closer. Lionel had a gun, but Bruce didn’t seem too worried about that. Lucas, meanwhile, had dropped to the floor near a sofa, behind which a pair of high-heeled feet stuck out.
Lin was cold. Lex slapped him, but he didn’t even blink.
They were late. They were too late.
If he dies. . . If he dies. . .
A rush of air blew against him, pushing Lex back and causing him to fall flat on his ass. It was Lucas, holding a huge syringe full of--
“Is that blood?!” Lex demanded. He grabbed Lucas’ hand, stilling it until the kid looked at him.
“It’s our blood,” he said. “It’s his.” He shook Lex’s hand off almost effortlessly, then took a deep breath and slammed the needle into Lin’s chest. Into his heart.
He pushed the plunger down, then pulled the syringe out. Nothing happened. Lex watched Lin’s face for signs of. . . anything resembling a change, but it didn’t come. He stared at Lucas, but the kid looked as scared and confused as Lex felt.
“No! No, you can’t do this to me! Get your hands off me this instant, you freak!”
He’d always wondered if seeing red were just a turn of phrase, or if rage could actually make it happen to someone. But when Lex looked over at his father again, now being held up high against the window by Batman,
He saw red. In his mind’s eye, he saw Lionel’s blood all over his hands, saw himself bathing in it and, for a split second, wanted that more than anything else in the world. He got to his feet, stepped over Lin’s dead body, and walked over.
“Lex!” his father cried out, seeing him. “Don’t let him do this! He’s going to murder me, son!”
Lex stopped right at the edge of the desk, with its expensive but tasteless furnishings. Gold pens, gold lamps, gold paper weights. Jeweled this and jeweled that. Dirty money.
“I used to love you,” Lex heard himself say. He looked up and met his father’s eyes, the whites showing around the irises. “I respected you,” he told him. “You were a great man. . . I thought.”
He stepped closer, then even closer. Lionel kept struggling against Bruce’s grip, kept making small, determined, injured noises.
“Lex-- ” he gasped.
“You’re weak and disgusting,” Lex told him. “You’ll never amount to anything.” He waited until he saw recognition in the man’s eyes, then said, “I can’t stand the sight of you. You make me ashamed to even be in the same room.”
There was a roaring from down the hallway, then suddenly the sprinklers went on just as flames started licking at the doors to the hallway. The fire had reached them. Red and blue lights flashed through the window from the emergency vehicles outside, and water was everywhere.
Lex was about to take a step back and tell Bruce they needed to find a way out of here, when Lionel abruptly stopped struggling. He was looking past Lex, and his face was. . . terrified.
“Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is-- ”
Lex turned his head around, saw Bruce doing the same from the corner of his eye. Lionel kept up the Ave Maria, and with his voice in the background praying, and the sight before him, Lex felt the power of God for the first time in his life.
If it weren’t a miracle, then what the hell was it?
Lin was up and walking, trying to push Lucas away from him as the kid attempted to drag him back. And Lex knew it wasn’t the fire outside or the red light reflecting from the emergency vehicles that made Lin’s eyes that color.
“We have to get out of here,” Lex said. “The fire’s out of control, and the sprinklers won’t get it. Lin!” And those fiery eyes finally turned to him. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get out now!”
“He killed her,” Lin said, gaze again focused only on Lionel’s face. “When she refused to call us, he tortured her. Then he called us anyway, made her scream so we could hear.”
“No, Lin-- ” Lucas tried again, yanking Lin’s arm. But Colin just flung him away. Lucas flew back so hard, he hit the wall behind and went right into the flames that’d begun crawling into the room. “Shit!” Lucas yelled, scrambling out of the fire and ripping his smoldering coat off. “What the fuck are you doing, Lin?!” he screamed at Colin’s back.
But Lin just steadily moved closer. Bruce was biting his lip as he stared at Lionel, and Lex had the feeling time had run out.
“He murdered Liza, and he had them shoot Dr. Izer.”
Lex then realized three things in rapid succession. One, the air was running out. Two, the body behind the sofa was dead, not unconscious like he’d previously thought. And three, it’d belonged to Dr. Izer, the woman who’d escorted him around the Centre weeks ago. She was the one who’d shown him Lucas, who’d made the place seem so. . . benign.
When Lex looked back at Lionel, he saw the man choking. Bruce had moved his hands from the man’s shoulder and neck, to just his neck, and was now proceeding to strangle the life out of him.
“No!” Lex shouted, darting over and shoving Bruce away with everything he had. All three of them hit the floor in a heap, Lionel’s rasps for breath almost as loud as the fire in the room. Bruce pushed himself up, trying to get at Lionel again, but Lex punched him in the face. “We don’t have time for this!” he yelled over the flames. “We have to get out!”
There was cracking along the far walls, and framed photos were melting. Soon the floor would collapse, and while Lucas and Lin would undoubtedly survive, Lex, Bruce, and Lionel most likely would not.
Hands abruptly grabbed Lex from behind, jerked him up. He turned around in the circle of Lin’s arms.
“Lin-- ” he started, but Colin just shook his head and looked back at Lucas.
“You got them?” he asked.
“Go, go!” Lucas shouted, nodding and grabbing at Bruce as he spoke.
“Here we go,” Lin whispered into Lex’s ear. “Close your eyes.”
They went out the window, Lin’s body curled around Lex like a giant, impenetrable blanket. The glass shattered, but never touched him. And Lex kept expecting the downward descent. It would be brief. They were only three storeys up, after all.
But it never came. Instead, they actually went. . . higher and, if anything, faster.
“Lin. . .?”
“It’s okay, Lex,” he shouted over the wind. “Just keep your eyes shut.
“We’ll be home in no time.”
***
It took a little over three hours to fly by plane from Metropolis to Gotham City, and vice versa.
Lin and Lex made it in a matter of minutes, with Bruce calling soon after to tell them he and Lucas were driving the Tumbler back to the jet, then taking off themselves.
They didn’t mention Lionel, or security tapes.
But then, they didn’t need to. Family is its own language.
***
On to Epilogue
Disclaimer: ‘Smallville’ and certain characters belong to Miller-Gough et. al. No profit is gained from this writing. Only, hopefully, enjoyment.
He’d never been in a fire, didn’t quite know what to expect. Sure, Lex knew it’d be hot and smoky and hard to see, but none of that prepared him really. It wasn’t hot; it was boiling. He could barely see a foot in front of him, the clouds of smoke and flame were so high. He couldn’t breathe.
Bruce grabbed his shoulder, kept a hand on him at all times, and Lex was glad he wasn’t alone. They dashed across the lobby of the Centre over to the stairwell. Lex pushed past Bruce as they climbed up to the second floor, then the third. He’d only been up here once, maybe twice in his whole life, but when he slammed the stairwell door open and stepped out. . .
He could smell the smoke from down below, but the fire hadn’t caught up here yet. He didn’t know which way to go, didn’t know what was the likeliest place they’d be. The display cases down the right hall? Or the library straight ahead?
But there was a shout and a sudden crash to the left, and before he knew it, Lex was running full out towards his father’s office. As he and Bruce tore off down the hall, the shouts resolved into Lucas’ hoarse voice. And once around the corner, it was easy to see that both doors were flung wide open and several people were inside the room.
“Stop it!” Lucas was shouting. “You’re killing him!”
Just as he was about to race inside, Bruce grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. They banged into the wall on the right and Lex was about to yell at him to get off, when his mouth was covered.
“We’ve got to assess before we go in,” Bruce whispered. The people inside were all still too focused on each other to have noticed Lex and Bruce’s arrival. “Stay here,” and then the hand was gone and Bruce almost slithered farther down the hall.
“You can’t do this!” came Lucas’ pleading voice. “Just-- just think of all that work, Lionel! All of it’s gone if he dies!”
“No, Lex-- ” Bruce started to say, reaching out to try and stop him.
If he dies. . . If he dies. . . If he dies. . .
The first guard’s back was to the door. He was pointing a gun down at someone curled on the floor. Lex didn’t even take the time to see who it was, but there were only a few people it could be. He quietly moved close to the man, balling his hand into a fist. His right hand slid up to cup the side of the man’s head, while he sent the bottom edge of his left slamming into the guy’s temple, knocking him out before he even knew Lex was there.
There was silence for a heartbeat, then guard number two over by the windows turned his gun on Lex, and away from Colin. Lex pulled the mask off, looking down at Lin’s still form.
“Alexander! What do you think you’re doi-- !”
Lex ignored Lionel, crouching down next to Lin just as a large dark shadow detached itself from the wall near the windows. He heard Bruce disarming the other guard, and felt air as Lucas moved past him, but his eyes were all for Lin.
He looked. . . not good. At first, Lex’s heart had almost stopped in fear. Lin was grey, not pale. There were veins and blood vessels straining against what was visible of his skin, green and black, and. . . hard. But, as Lex reached out a hand to touch him, the worst was the look on his face. His mouth wide in a scream, and his eyes open and. . . blue, a pale, pale blue Lex had never seen before except in pictures of Huskies, Lin was in agony. He was curled up in a fetal position, his chest barely moving.
Lex began searching. He ran his hands up and down and still found nothing, no trace whatsoever of any green meteorite. But that’s what it had to be. That was the only thing that would be able to keep Lin down. It had to be there somewhere.
“Jesus Christ!” Lionel shouted, and Lex glanced up. Bruce had finished with the guard and was now stalking towards Lionel. They were behind the desk, Bruce moving closer and closer. Lionel had a gun, but Bruce didn’t seem too worried about that. Lucas, meanwhile, had dropped to the floor near a sofa, behind which a pair of high-heeled feet stuck out.
Lin was cold. Lex slapped him, but he didn’t even blink.
They were late. They were too late.
If he dies. . . If he dies. . .
A rush of air blew against him, pushing Lex back and causing him to fall flat on his ass. It was Lucas, holding a huge syringe full of--
“Is that blood?!” Lex demanded. He grabbed Lucas’ hand, stilling it until the kid looked at him.
“It’s our blood,” he said. “It’s his.” He shook Lex’s hand off almost effortlessly, then took a deep breath and slammed the needle into Lin’s chest. Into his heart.
He pushed the plunger down, then pulled the syringe out. Nothing happened. Lex watched Lin’s face for signs of. . . anything resembling a change, but it didn’t come. He stared at Lucas, but the kid looked as scared and confused as Lex felt.
“No! No, you can’t do this to me! Get your hands off me this instant, you freak!”
He’d always wondered if seeing red were just a turn of phrase, or if rage could actually make it happen to someone. But when Lex looked over at his father again, now being held up high against the window by Batman,
He saw red. In his mind’s eye, he saw Lionel’s blood all over his hands, saw himself bathing in it and, for a split second, wanted that more than anything else in the world. He got to his feet, stepped over Lin’s dead body, and walked over.
“Lex!” his father cried out, seeing him. “Don’t let him do this! He’s going to murder me, son!”
Lex stopped right at the edge of the desk, with its expensive but tasteless furnishings. Gold pens, gold lamps, gold paper weights. Jeweled this and jeweled that. Dirty money.
“I used to love you,” Lex heard himself say. He looked up and met his father’s eyes, the whites showing around the irises. “I respected you,” he told him. “You were a great man. . . I thought.”
He stepped closer, then even closer. Lionel kept struggling against Bruce’s grip, kept making small, determined, injured noises.
“Lex-- ” he gasped.
“You’re weak and disgusting,” Lex told him. “You’ll never amount to anything.” He waited until he saw recognition in the man’s eyes, then said, “I can’t stand the sight of you. You make me ashamed to even be in the same room.”
There was a roaring from down the hallway, then suddenly the sprinklers went on just as flames started licking at the doors to the hallway. The fire had reached them. Red and blue lights flashed through the window from the emergency vehicles outside, and water was everywhere.
Lex was about to take a step back and tell Bruce they needed to find a way out of here, when Lionel abruptly stopped struggling. He was looking past Lex, and his face was. . . terrified.
“Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is-- ”
Lex turned his head around, saw Bruce doing the same from the corner of his eye. Lionel kept up the Ave Maria, and with his voice in the background praying, and the sight before him, Lex felt the power of God for the first time in his life.
If it weren’t a miracle, then what the hell was it?
Lin was up and walking, trying to push Lucas away from him as the kid attempted to drag him back. And Lex knew it wasn’t the fire outside or the red light reflecting from the emergency vehicles that made Lin’s eyes that color.
“We have to get out of here,” Lex said. “The fire’s out of control, and the sprinklers won’t get it. Lin!” And those fiery eyes finally turned to him. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get out now!”
“He killed her,” Lin said, gaze again focused only on Lionel’s face. “When she refused to call us, he tortured her. Then he called us anyway, made her scream so we could hear.”
“No, Lin-- ” Lucas tried again, yanking Lin’s arm. But Colin just flung him away. Lucas flew back so hard, he hit the wall behind and went right into the flames that’d begun crawling into the room. “Shit!” Lucas yelled, scrambling out of the fire and ripping his smoldering coat off. “What the fuck are you doing, Lin?!” he screamed at Colin’s back.
But Lin just steadily moved closer. Bruce was biting his lip as he stared at Lionel, and Lex had the feeling time had run out.
“He murdered Liza, and he had them shoot Dr. Izer.”
Lex then realized three things in rapid succession. One, the air was running out. Two, the body behind the sofa was dead, not unconscious like he’d previously thought. And three, it’d belonged to Dr. Izer, the woman who’d escorted him around the Centre weeks ago. She was the one who’d shown him Lucas, who’d made the place seem so. . . benign.
When Lex looked back at Lionel, he saw the man choking. Bruce had moved his hands from the man’s shoulder and neck, to just his neck, and was now proceeding to strangle the life out of him.
“No!” Lex shouted, darting over and shoving Bruce away with everything he had. All three of them hit the floor in a heap, Lionel’s rasps for breath almost as loud as the fire in the room. Bruce pushed himself up, trying to get at Lionel again, but Lex punched him in the face. “We don’t have time for this!” he yelled over the flames. “We have to get out!”
There was cracking along the far walls, and framed photos were melting. Soon the floor would collapse, and while Lucas and Lin would undoubtedly survive, Lex, Bruce, and Lionel most likely would not.
Hands abruptly grabbed Lex from behind, jerked him up. He turned around in the circle of Lin’s arms.
“Lin-- ” he started, but Colin just shook his head and looked back at Lucas.
“You got them?” he asked.
“Go, go!” Lucas shouted, nodding and grabbing at Bruce as he spoke.
“Here we go,” Lin whispered into Lex’s ear. “Close your eyes.”
They went out the window, Lin’s body curled around Lex like a giant, impenetrable blanket. The glass shattered, but never touched him. And Lex kept expecting the downward descent. It would be brief. They were only three storeys up, after all.
But it never came. Instead, they actually went. . . higher and, if anything, faster.
“Lin. . .?”
“It’s okay, Lex,” he shouted over the wind. “Just keep your eyes shut.
“We’ll be home in no time.”
***
It took a little over three hours to fly by plane from Metropolis to Gotham City, and vice versa.
Lin and Lex made it in a matter of minutes, with Bruce calling soon after to tell them he and Lucas were driving the Tumbler back to the jet, then taking off themselves.
They didn’t mention Lionel, or security tapes.
But then, they didn’t need to. Family is its own language.
***
On to Epilogue