Fic: Chill (1/2)
Title: Chill (1/2)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Lionel Luthor, Clark/Bruce (past implied Clex)
Continuity: Smallville
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major character death (off-screen). Not Clark or Bruce.
Spoilers: For "Traveler" and "Fracture".
General Summary: Lionel’s chickens come home to roost.
Chapter Summary: Lionel is feeling nervous at the castle the night of Lex’s funeral.
Date Of Completion: March 20, 2008
Date Of Posting: March 21, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1142
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The aria that Lionel is listening to in "Traveler" and in this story is "The Queen Of The Night" (It’s never a good sign on Smallville when a Luthor is listening to opera ;) ). Lines from that aria are the chapter titles. It appears my college music appreciation class was good for something! ;)
The additions to Veritas are my own, taken from an idea I had while watching the episode "Traveler" last night.
All chapters can be found here.
I
“HELL’S VENGEANCE”
Lionel took a drink with a shaking hand. The operatic tones of his favorite CD played on, filling the empty mansion with its mournful beauty. Moonlight glittered through the stained-glass windows in the library, creating diamond patterns on the polished floor.
A fire crackled in the fireplace, but Lionel was cold. He had been cold ever since learning of Lex’s death.
Saving Superman.
Saving Clark.
Lionel poured another drink from the cut-glass decanter he held in one hand. How long had it been since Lex had gone down his dark path, a true Luthor?
Too many years.
And yet, at the end, he had performed the final sacrifice, the final redemption.
Why?
Lionel brooded as he stared into the glass, the amber light swirling in crystal. The funeral had been well-attended. The corporate types hadn’t dared stay away, and Clark? Why had he been there at all? With Kara, Chloe, and Lana? Oliver Queen had been there, with his live-in love, Dinah Lance, and Bruce Wayne and his young ward. There were others whom Lionel hadn’t recognized as old friends of Lex’s or his own.
Not that he’d ever had any friends.
He twisted the glass around in his hands. Friends had been baggage or a commodity to be used. Friends like Swann and Teague and the Queens…all easily disposable.
Among others.
Lionel drank again, poured again. It was going to be a very long night.
A sound at the window caught his attention, but he dismissed it as the wind. Autumn nights were cold and windy.
The fire didn’t even warm him.
The aria crested, filling him with pain, loss, and a restlessness that was strange to him. He was a man of purpose, of action, not of philosophy. Lex had been more inclined for the philosophical, the artistic.
What had happened to the man who had first come to Smallville and had made friends with Clark Kent?
And why had he been Clark’s friend, in the end, after all that had happened between them?
It was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Not since that day when Kara had freed Clark from the Kryptonite prison in which Lionel had put him.
For his own safety.
And if Clark believed that, he had this bridge in Brooklyn…
The expensive liquor burned down Lionel’s throat. He should have just picked up a bottle with a screw cap from the local liquor store, for all he was appreciating this.
Another sound.
He was getting up to investigate when the window burst open.
“Batman?!”
The Dark Knight perched on the windowsill, cape billowing out behind him, darkness cutting off the moon as the soprano sang pure, clear notes. Cold wind gusted through the room, entering Lionel’s bones.
“Lionel Luthor.”
The voice was rasping, guttural, scraping along a decaying brick wall.
“What do you want?” Despite his best effort, Lionel’s voice shook slightly.
“I come for your reckoning, Luthor.”
Lionel took another swig. “Your theatrics don’t frighten me, Bat. Go back to Gotham where you belong. Smallville is not your place.”
“It is my place.” The Batman drew out an old, leather-tooled journal from his cape. “You’re a very fortunate man, Lionel. Oliver wanted to kill you years ago when Clark told him you’d killed his parents. I can’t say as I blame him, but Clark talked him out of it. Ever the Boy Scout.” The journal’s clasp was unlocked and the book opened. “Did you know that Lex had been doomed almost from the start?”
“If you’re going to start talking bad blood nonsense…”
“No, Lionel.” The Batman turned the pages of the journal. “The meteor shower affected him more than he knew. He was a meteor…freak…as the term goes, though all anyone ever knew was his ability to heal faster than normal. Turns out that the intense burst of radiation affected his brain, as it always eventually does to the meteor-infected. He felt a darkness in him as he grew up, but he thought that came from you.” The smile chilled Lionel’s already-cold body. “Turns out his brain cells were infected, half-dormant, half-active. He was able to become friends with Clark…the best of friends and more…and then he was wrenched away, twisted and dying in the darkness.”
Lionel poured another drink. “Did he tell you all that?”
“He wrote it in a journal he kept. He didn’t remember writing it. He was blacked-out most of the time. Clark always told me he had good in him. Said Alexander lived in him.” The Batman noticed the expression on Lionel’s face. He probably missed nothing. “He never stopped hoping, believing. I guess he was right about Lex. Lex saved him, and died for him.” The cowled eyes looked at Lionel. “How he ever came from a bastard like you is one of life’s mysteries.”
Lionel felt fear trickle down his spine as the music thrummed. He gripped the glass tightly. “Clark is naïve, even after all these years.”
“Oh, no doubt, there’s a streak of genuine naivete in him. But he did say that he saw Lex’s memories that time he was in his head.” The pages kept turning. “Saw you.”
An owl hooted somewhere in the woods.
“Said you bullied a very little boy over some briefcase being opened.” Pages turning. “Said you verbally and physically abused your own son, until he gave it up that his mother had opened the briefcase, then you assaulted her.” The voice was almost conversational despite its rasp. Lionel felt the fear increase. “Clark told me that Lex’s mother was cold to him, just got up and walked away. Little wonder he was so screwed up, with parents like that.”
Lionel started to inch back toward the fireplace poker. “Why are you so interested?”
“Oh, come now, Lionel. I’m interested in many things.” He stopped turning pages. “This journal of Dr. Swann’s…the one his daughter gave Clark before she was killed…it tells of Veritas, the organization that came together to protect the Last Son of Krypton after he arrived in the first meteor shower, and the people involved. You, Dr. Swann, Edward Teague, Robert and Laura Queen.” The trees swayed in the wind outside. “You had them all killed.” A black gloved finger traced words on the page. “Right after plans had been made to admit two new members.”
“And who might that be?” Lionel pretended to scoff as he tried to get closer to the poker.
“You know who Superman is. You know who Green Arrow is.” The white-lensed eyes bored into him. “You know who I am.”
Lionel’s fingers brushed the poker.
The voice grew ice-cold.
“The two new members were…Thomas and Martha Wayne.”
Lionel’s fingers grasped around the poker as a burst of cold wind swept into the room and the Batman moved as the aria reached a crescendo, crashing all around them.
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Lionel Luthor, Clark/Bruce (past implied Clex)
Continuity: Smallville
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major character death (off-screen). Not Clark or Bruce.
Spoilers: For "Traveler" and "Fracture".
General Summary: Lionel’s chickens come home to roost.
Chapter Summary: Lionel is feeling nervous at the castle the night of Lex’s funeral.
Date Of Completion: March 20, 2008
Date Of Posting: March 21, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1142
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The aria that Lionel is listening to in "Traveler" and in this story is "The Queen Of The Night" (It’s never a good sign on Smallville when a Luthor is listening to opera ;) ). Lines from that aria are the chapter titles. It appears my college music appreciation class was good for something! ;)
The additions to Veritas are my own, taken from an idea I had while watching the episode "Traveler" last night.
All chapters can be found here.
I
“HELL’S VENGEANCE”
Lionel took a drink with a shaking hand. The operatic tones of his favorite CD played on, filling the empty mansion with its mournful beauty. Moonlight glittered through the stained-glass windows in the library, creating diamond patterns on the polished floor.
A fire crackled in the fireplace, but Lionel was cold. He had been cold ever since learning of Lex’s death.
Saving Superman.
Saving Clark.
Lionel poured another drink from the cut-glass decanter he held in one hand. How long had it been since Lex had gone down his dark path, a true Luthor?
Too many years.
And yet, at the end, he had performed the final sacrifice, the final redemption.
Why?
Lionel brooded as he stared into the glass, the amber light swirling in crystal. The funeral had been well-attended. The corporate types hadn’t dared stay away, and Clark? Why had he been there at all? With Kara, Chloe, and Lana? Oliver Queen had been there, with his live-in love, Dinah Lance, and Bruce Wayne and his young ward. There were others whom Lionel hadn’t recognized as old friends of Lex’s or his own.
Not that he’d ever had any friends.
He twisted the glass around in his hands. Friends had been baggage or a commodity to be used. Friends like Swann and Teague and the Queens…all easily disposable.
Among others.
Lionel drank again, poured again. It was going to be a very long night.
A sound at the window caught his attention, but he dismissed it as the wind. Autumn nights were cold and windy.
The fire didn’t even warm him.
The aria crested, filling him with pain, loss, and a restlessness that was strange to him. He was a man of purpose, of action, not of philosophy. Lex had been more inclined for the philosophical, the artistic.
What had happened to the man who had first come to Smallville and had made friends with Clark Kent?
And why had he been Clark’s friend, in the end, after all that had happened between them?
It was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Not since that day when Kara had freed Clark from the Kryptonite prison in which Lionel had put him.
For his own safety.
And if Clark believed that, he had this bridge in Brooklyn…
The expensive liquor burned down Lionel’s throat. He should have just picked up a bottle with a screw cap from the local liquor store, for all he was appreciating this.
Another sound.
He was getting up to investigate when the window burst open.
“Batman?!”
The Dark Knight perched on the windowsill, cape billowing out behind him, darkness cutting off the moon as the soprano sang pure, clear notes. Cold wind gusted through the room, entering Lionel’s bones.
“Lionel Luthor.”
The voice was rasping, guttural, scraping along a decaying brick wall.
“What do you want?” Despite his best effort, Lionel’s voice shook slightly.
“I come for your reckoning, Luthor.”
Lionel took another swig. “Your theatrics don’t frighten me, Bat. Go back to Gotham where you belong. Smallville is not your place.”
“It is my place.” The Batman drew out an old, leather-tooled journal from his cape. “You’re a very fortunate man, Lionel. Oliver wanted to kill you years ago when Clark told him you’d killed his parents. I can’t say as I blame him, but Clark talked him out of it. Ever the Boy Scout.” The journal’s clasp was unlocked and the book opened. “Did you know that Lex had been doomed almost from the start?”
“If you’re going to start talking bad blood nonsense…”
“No, Lionel.” The Batman turned the pages of the journal. “The meteor shower affected him more than he knew. He was a meteor…freak…as the term goes, though all anyone ever knew was his ability to heal faster than normal. Turns out that the intense burst of radiation affected his brain, as it always eventually does to the meteor-infected. He felt a darkness in him as he grew up, but he thought that came from you.” The smile chilled Lionel’s already-cold body. “Turns out his brain cells were infected, half-dormant, half-active. He was able to become friends with Clark…the best of friends and more…and then he was wrenched away, twisted and dying in the darkness.”
Lionel poured another drink. “Did he tell you all that?”
“He wrote it in a journal he kept. He didn’t remember writing it. He was blacked-out most of the time. Clark always told me he had good in him. Said Alexander lived in him.” The Batman noticed the expression on Lionel’s face. He probably missed nothing. “He never stopped hoping, believing. I guess he was right about Lex. Lex saved him, and died for him.” The cowled eyes looked at Lionel. “How he ever came from a bastard like you is one of life’s mysteries.”
Lionel felt fear trickle down his spine as the music thrummed. He gripped the glass tightly. “Clark is naïve, even after all these years.”
“Oh, no doubt, there’s a streak of genuine naivete in him. But he did say that he saw Lex’s memories that time he was in his head.” The pages kept turning. “Saw you.”
An owl hooted somewhere in the woods.
“Said you bullied a very little boy over some briefcase being opened.” Pages turning. “Said you verbally and physically abused your own son, until he gave it up that his mother had opened the briefcase, then you assaulted her.” The voice was almost conversational despite its rasp. Lionel felt the fear increase. “Clark told me that Lex’s mother was cold to him, just got up and walked away. Little wonder he was so screwed up, with parents like that.”
Lionel started to inch back toward the fireplace poker. “Why are you so interested?”
“Oh, come now, Lionel. I’m interested in many things.” He stopped turning pages. “This journal of Dr. Swann’s…the one his daughter gave Clark before she was killed…it tells of Veritas, the organization that came together to protect the Last Son of Krypton after he arrived in the first meteor shower, and the people involved. You, Dr. Swann, Edward Teague, Robert and Laura Queen.” The trees swayed in the wind outside. “You had them all killed.” A black gloved finger traced words on the page. “Right after plans had been made to admit two new members.”
“And who might that be?” Lionel pretended to scoff as he tried to get closer to the poker.
“You know who Superman is. You know who Green Arrow is.” The white-lensed eyes bored into him. “You know who I am.”
Lionel’s fingers brushed the poker.
The voice grew ice-cold.
“The two new members were…Thomas and Martha Wayne.”
Lionel’s fingers grasped around the poker as a burst of cold wind swept into the room and the Batman moved as the aria reached a crescendo, crashing all around them.