Finally!
Title: Alexiteric
Summary: Lex and Lana Luthor on the birth of their first child.
Fandom: Smallville
Word Count: 1234 (which is creepy)
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Lex/Lana
A/N: Here it is, the moment you've all three of you have been waiting for: the sequel to Symphony. This took me for bloody ever to write, because, well, ::waves little childfree flag:: I had to do a lot of learning to write this, and I bugged the holy hell out of gunstreet_girl, my baby loving, nursing major roommate in the process (who's named Elizabeth... hmm.. funny how that works...). I might come back to this universe; I like it muchly. But for now? I'm done. PS: tinamishi- I don't know why Yahoo turned my dots into Japanese characters. They're supposed to be dots. ::shrug::
a·lex·i·ter·ic: (medicine) A protection against or remedy for the effects of venom or poison.
Lex Luthor, who has never had a god before himself, is on his knees in the chapel of Metropolis General Hospital, praying as hard as he possibly can to any deity that crosses his mind. He comes around to Hera twice, and he’s fairly sure he invoked Warrior Angel somewhere in there.
When the nurse comes in to tell him that his wife wants him, he sprints past her so fast that he almost knocks her over.
Metropolis’s best obstetrician, a kind-looking man with graying hair, is perusing Lana’s chart with a bemused smile. His amusement, however, seems tinged with boredom; he checks his pager, wondering why he’s been called out for such a normal birth.
He has a conversation with the nurse in a bunch of jargon that Lex doesn’t understand. “Ah, Mr. Luthor,” he says, finally noticing Lex.
Lex is already next to Lana. She’s asleep, but Lex is startled when she rouses and makes a horrible noise. He guesses it must be a contraction. “I’m afraid she asked for you, and then fell asleep,” the doctor says with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. She certainly needs the rest.”
Lex sits next to the bed holding her hand for a while, but he gets bored. She keeps going back and forth between contractions and sleep, and both of them make him uncomfortable. He stands next to the bed and dances from foot to foot, a habit he gave up before he went to kindergarten.
It’s some torturous combination of the night before Christmas and the line at the DMV; it feels like it’s never, ever going to come, but he wants it to so badly that he can’t stop thinking about it. Or maybe it’s like the longest piece of music he’s ever heard, building and building and building and never reaching a climax. He can’t decide which is more apt, but either way, he hates it.
This nervous dancing lasts about an hour before Lex can’t take it anymore. He tries to wake Lana up, but it doesn’t work.
He gets into the doctor’s face. “Can’t you induce, help her along, or do something?” he asks, rather desperately. He hates the pleading tone in his voice; he’d meant to be intimidating, but he’d failed.
The look the doctor gives Lex says, very clearly, that Lex is a damned fool. “You said you wanted to eliminate any risk of complications,” the doctor says. Lex is trying even his immense patience. “This is what we have to do. The best and only thing you can do right now is calm down, go and hold her hand, and try to say something soothing. If you won’t, I’ll have you removed.”
Lex makes to protest, and the doctor puts up his hand. “Will you please take Mr. Luthor outside for a moment?” he tells the nurse. Lex is stunned; she takes him easily by the elbow and leads him into the hallway.
She tries to sit him down on the bench, but he holds firm. “Listen,” he pretends to read her nametag again, though he’s memorized it- a favorite intimidation tactic, “Elizabeth, you’re going to let me back in there.”
She’s not having it. “No, Mr. Luthor, you’re going to sit down. This is going to take a long time, and you’re just going to tire both of you out. You want a cup of coffee or anything?” She’s polite, her mouth’s still smiling, but the conversation is clearly over. Lex sits down, making a mental note to hire her away from the hospital.
He drinks his coffee, and he waits. The caffeine does nothing; he’s gone almost immediately and doesn’t know it until the nurse comes to wake him. He pulls himself together, and she lets him into Lana’s room.
“Won’t be long now,” the obstetrician tells him, looking up from Lana. “Everything is right as rain.”
When the birth actually happens, Lex can’t decide whether to weep, cheer, or throw up all over the doctor’s shoes. He does neither; instead he just strokes Lana’s hair and tries not to yelp as she squeezes the life out of his hand.
Then it’s done, and there’s this red, wrinkled, slimy thing that sort of looks like a demon. Lex immediately falls in love with it. He starts laughing fit to beat everything, tears streaming from his eyes.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor says, and Lex feels like dancing. The doctor gives the baby to Lana to nurse. Lex waits for an alarm, a siren, any indication of the doom that’s supposed to befall him.
It doesn’t come.
He kisses Lana on the head and goes very quietly out of the room. The nurse watches him go, but says nothing. He goes to the nearest exit and walks very calmly outside.
It’s dark and cold, and a light snow is falling. And Lex Luthor, suave, dignified billionaire businessman, screams as loud as he possibly can. He cheers and hollers and dances around like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has.
His heart is about to burst, and his mind is on fire. He’s done it. He’s actually done it. He has his family and his money and his power and everything he could ever possibly want. He’s beaten his father, and the Luthor name, and there is nothing stopping him from protecting Lana, himself, or any of his children, current or future. He’s fought fate, and he has finally won.
But that doesn’t mean it’s over.
He collects himself and goes back inside. Lana is alone for the moment. He pulls his chair back up next to her and cradles her shoulders. She nuzzles against him, but doesn’t seem to have the strength to do much else.
“Can we do this?” Lex asks her softly, his voice and his heart cracking. There is a long pause.
There have been many conversations like this; there will be many more. It started before they even conceived. It was Lana that had brought it up, late at night in bed. She has a habit of springing things on him then, when it’s just them and he’s pliant and relaxed.
“This won’t make things any better,” he told her, wishing she’d not listen. “It might even make them worse.”
She didn’t. “I want this,” Lana told him, looking him in the eye with the same fire that he never has been able to argue with. “You want this. I know you do.”
With some effort, he pulled himself away from those eyes. “I don’t want to ruin things.”
Lana took hold of his face and pointed it at her own, giving him no escape. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t dream about our family. Tell me you don’t want a whole pack of redheaded Luthors running around this place. Look me in the eye, Lex, and tell me.”
He couldn’t. She won every single one of those fights.
“Doesn’t matter if we can,” Lana answers. “We’re doing this.” Her smile is weary, but it’s broad.
The nurse wheels the baby back into the room in a bassinet. “Have you thought of a name yet?” she asks, trying to break the tension in the room.
“Alexander Joseph Luthor,” Lana says, without breaking eye contact. “After his father.”
“Alex.”
Lana drifts off to sleep not long after that. Lex stays by her bed until morning, holding her hand.
Summary: Lex and Lana Luthor on the birth of their first child.
Fandom: Smallville
Word Count: 1234 (which is creepy)
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Lex/Lana
A/N: Here it is, the moment you've all three of you have been waiting for: the sequel to Symphony. This took me for bloody ever to write, because, well, ::waves little childfree flag:: I had to do a lot of learning to write this, and I bugged the holy hell out of gunstreet_girl, my baby loving, nursing major roommate in the process (who's named Elizabeth... hmm.. funny how that works...). I might come back to this universe; I like it muchly. But for now? I'm done. PS: tinamishi- I don't know why Yahoo turned my dots into Japanese characters. They're supposed to be dots. ::shrug::
a·lex·i·ter·ic: (medicine) A protection against or remedy for the effects of venom or poison.
Lex Luthor, who has never had a god before himself, is on his knees in the chapel of Metropolis General Hospital, praying as hard as he possibly can to any deity that crosses his mind. He comes around to Hera twice, and he’s fairly sure he invoked Warrior Angel somewhere in there.
When the nurse comes in to tell him that his wife wants him, he sprints past her so fast that he almost knocks her over.
Metropolis’s best obstetrician, a kind-looking man with graying hair, is perusing Lana’s chart with a bemused smile. His amusement, however, seems tinged with boredom; he checks his pager, wondering why he’s been called out for such a normal birth.
He has a conversation with the nurse in a bunch of jargon that Lex doesn’t understand. “Ah, Mr. Luthor,” he says, finally noticing Lex.
Lex is already next to Lana. She’s asleep, but Lex is startled when she rouses and makes a horrible noise. He guesses it must be a contraction. “I’m afraid she asked for you, and then fell asleep,” the doctor says with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. She certainly needs the rest.”
Lex sits next to the bed holding her hand for a while, but he gets bored. She keeps going back and forth between contractions and sleep, and both of them make him uncomfortable. He stands next to the bed and dances from foot to foot, a habit he gave up before he went to kindergarten.
It’s some torturous combination of the night before Christmas and the line at the DMV; it feels like it’s never, ever going to come, but he wants it to so badly that he can’t stop thinking about it. Or maybe it’s like the longest piece of music he’s ever heard, building and building and building and never reaching a climax. He can’t decide which is more apt, but either way, he hates it.
This nervous dancing lasts about an hour before Lex can’t take it anymore. He tries to wake Lana up, but it doesn’t work.
He gets into the doctor’s face. “Can’t you induce, help her along, or do something?” he asks, rather desperately. He hates the pleading tone in his voice; he’d meant to be intimidating, but he’d failed.
The look the doctor gives Lex says, very clearly, that Lex is a damned fool. “You said you wanted to eliminate any risk of complications,” the doctor says. Lex is trying even his immense patience. “This is what we have to do. The best and only thing you can do right now is calm down, go and hold her hand, and try to say something soothing. If you won’t, I’ll have you removed.”
Lex makes to protest, and the doctor puts up his hand. “Will you please take Mr. Luthor outside for a moment?” he tells the nurse. Lex is stunned; she takes him easily by the elbow and leads him into the hallway.
She tries to sit him down on the bench, but he holds firm. “Listen,” he pretends to read her nametag again, though he’s memorized it- a favorite intimidation tactic, “Elizabeth, you’re going to let me back in there.”
She’s not having it. “No, Mr. Luthor, you’re going to sit down. This is going to take a long time, and you’re just going to tire both of you out. You want a cup of coffee or anything?” She’s polite, her mouth’s still smiling, but the conversation is clearly over. Lex sits down, making a mental note to hire her away from the hospital.
He drinks his coffee, and he waits. The caffeine does nothing; he’s gone almost immediately and doesn’t know it until the nurse comes to wake him. He pulls himself together, and she lets him into Lana’s room.
“Won’t be long now,” the obstetrician tells him, looking up from Lana. “Everything is right as rain.”
When the birth actually happens, Lex can’t decide whether to weep, cheer, or throw up all over the doctor’s shoes. He does neither; instead he just strokes Lana’s hair and tries not to yelp as she squeezes the life out of his hand.
Then it’s done, and there’s this red, wrinkled, slimy thing that sort of looks like a demon. Lex immediately falls in love with it. He starts laughing fit to beat everything, tears streaming from his eyes.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor says, and Lex feels like dancing. The doctor gives the baby to Lana to nurse. Lex waits for an alarm, a siren, any indication of the doom that’s supposed to befall him.
It doesn’t come.
He kisses Lana on the head and goes very quietly out of the room. The nurse watches him go, but says nothing. He goes to the nearest exit and walks very calmly outside.
It’s dark and cold, and a light snow is falling. And Lex Luthor, suave, dignified billionaire businessman, screams as loud as he possibly can. He cheers and hollers and dances around like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has.
His heart is about to burst, and his mind is on fire. He’s done it. He’s actually done it. He has his family and his money and his power and everything he could ever possibly want. He’s beaten his father, and the Luthor name, and there is nothing stopping him from protecting Lana, himself, or any of his children, current or future. He’s fought fate, and he has finally won.
But that doesn’t mean it’s over.
He collects himself and goes back inside. Lana is alone for the moment. He pulls his chair back up next to her and cradles her shoulders. She nuzzles against him, but doesn’t seem to have the strength to do much else.
“Can we do this?” Lex asks her softly, his voice and his heart cracking. There is a long pause.
There have been many conversations like this; there will be many more. It started before they even conceived. It was Lana that had brought it up, late at night in bed. She has a habit of springing things on him then, when it’s just them and he’s pliant and relaxed.
“This won’t make things any better,” he told her, wishing she’d not listen. “It might even make them worse.”
She didn’t. “I want this,” Lana told him, looking him in the eye with the same fire that he never has been able to argue with. “You want this. I know you do.”
With some effort, he pulled himself away from those eyes. “I don’t want to ruin things.”
Lana took hold of his face and pointed it at her own, giving him no escape. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t dream about our family. Tell me you don’t want a whole pack of redheaded Luthors running around this place. Look me in the eye, Lex, and tell me.”
He couldn’t. She won every single one of those fights.
“Doesn’t matter if we can,” Lana answers. “We’re doing this.” Her smile is weary, but it’s broad.
The nurse wheels the baby back into the room in a bassinet. “Have you thought of a name yet?” she asks, trying to break the tension in the room.
“Alexander Joseph Luthor,” Lana says, without breaking eye contact. “After his father.”
“Alex.”
Lana drifts off to sleep not long after that. Lex stays by her bed until morning, holding her hand.