beautiful N' Bruised
17th November 2003, 23:36
Summary: Magnetic post-EP. Lex tries to bury a marooned conscience.
Authors Notes: This came about from obsessing over those three scenes - no need to elaborate *g.* Feel free to disagree with the sentiment.
Could be considered to be a companion piece to Tigerbaby's Into the Fire (http://forums.naughty-seduction.net/index.php?showtopic=1301)
Lair
He didn’t know how long he’d been living on auto-pilot. Now smile, now nod, now speak, now glare. Thinking was no longer a necessity. Only action needed. It wasn’t unhealthy. He was just doing what he had to. Survival of the fittest. He had said as much to Helen.
Getting back into his father’s good graces, came naturally. Lionel Luthor prided himself on being driven by logic, and not emotion. Yet only a few careful moves by Lex, and he was being welcomed back with open arms. Literally. But it was a complex game they played, and the years had yet to let Lex come out tops.
He turned over in bed again, taking a tangle of silk sheets with him. A pillow was jammed over his head in a futile attempt to quell the rush of thoughts.
When you had critical goals to meet. When your route was clearly defined, from A to B to C, then nothing jarred your focus. Not a marooned conscience. Not buried emotions.
At night he paid; sleeplessness in exchange for the pane of hard, black ice that he’d coated his heart with, rendering him unable to feel. Unable to care.
And tonight the invoice came from a pair of clear green eyes. Scared. Unsure. Young and innocent. But in the end, trusting. Reluctantly trusting, because what else could she do? A little girl stuck in a game littered with the bodies of skilful players.
I need your help, Lex…
Pushing the sheets off, he padded towards his bedroom balcony. He flung the French doors open, letting in the stifling Smallville air. He stayed in the darkness of his bedroom, staring blindly out towards the world. Somewhere beyond the trees was a full moon, casting its eerie-beautiful glow over the inhabitants of the town.
Sleeping somewhere out there was the proof that he wasn’t becoming his father, he already was his father; - a man capable, of seducing a high-school girl into doing his dangerous bidding.
I’ll protect you, Chloe…
She spun a simple tale of just how artfully his father had pulled her from the shallow end, and taken her slowly deeper, deeper, until she was suffocating. Drowning in her own mistakes.
Again, Lex’s autopilot had done the work for him. Lex barely needed to think. He just needed to *be.* First move – enter the game showing enough knowledge to intimidate. Then bypass the goading and the thrusting, with a quick-and-dirty move, designed to bring the deadly heat of reality, crashing down.
…you have my word.
And then Lex’s own card. The one he had over and above his father. The one that in the end would make him succeed.
Lean forward in the chair, eyes locked on hers, voice low and honest. Intimate almost. Utterly sincere. “I’ll protect you, Chloe…you have my word.”
How long had he been tossing and turning in bed, and how long had he been gazing at stars that neither saw him, nor he them? Because the sunset crept up on him from nowhere, stealing the darkness. The farming community of Smallville awoke early, and soon the bodies would begin to rise, going about their mundane daily activities.
Lex pushed the thick curtains closed against the light, mindful that not a ray would seep in. Stubbornly he lay back on his bed, determined to catch at least a couple of hours of rest.
“But in order to do that, I need to know what you have on my father.”
And there it was. The nail to her coffin, the *but* that was what the whole game had been about. And for a moment, he expected refusal. How could she not see? But of course she couldn’t. Callow and inexperienced. That was the whole point. And he’d played the game so well. Her eyes were flecked with unshed water. Was it relief?
“Don’t worry.”
“Um, thanks, Lex -”
Squeeze to her arm. “No problem.”
She was the new pawn in the never-ending Luthor parent-offspring struggle. And it wasn’t even Lionel that had put her there. It was Lex. Protect her? Lex had murdered her. Taken the pre-sharpened knife, and plunged deeply into vulnerable, untouched flesh. She might not feel it yet, but already her body was cooling, preparing itself for eternal slumber.
The wilful sunlight leached into his room, anyway, worming through his eyelids and into his brain. Lex tightened his closed eyes. She had yet to die, and already her spirit was haunting him. He could see her again and again. Angry. Terrified. Scared. Defiant. Tearful. Ashamed…
From the word go, she was good as buried anyway. Her contamination with his father, had marked her. And what could he do? Station a guard outside her room? Hire a food-taster to check everything she ate? Handcuff her to his arm?
He flung an arm over his eyes. All he had done was use a doomed girl. His father had been the one to bring her to the lair.
*
Authors Notes: This came about from obsessing over those three scenes - no need to elaborate *g.* Feel free to disagree with the sentiment.
Could be considered to be a companion piece to Tigerbaby's Into the Fire (http://forums.naughty-seduction.net/index.php?showtopic=1301)
Lair
He didn’t know how long he’d been living on auto-pilot. Now smile, now nod, now speak, now glare. Thinking was no longer a necessity. Only action needed. It wasn’t unhealthy. He was just doing what he had to. Survival of the fittest. He had said as much to Helen.
Getting back into his father’s good graces, came naturally. Lionel Luthor prided himself on being driven by logic, and not emotion. Yet only a few careful moves by Lex, and he was being welcomed back with open arms. Literally. But it was a complex game they played, and the years had yet to let Lex come out tops.
He turned over in bed again, taking a tangle of silk sheets with him. A pillow was jammed over his head in a futile attempt to quell the rush of thoughts.
When you had critical goals to meet. When your route was clearly defined, from A to B to C, then nothing jarred your focus. Not a marooned conscience. Not buried emotions.
At night he paid; sleeplessness in exchange for the pane of hard, black ice that he’d coated his heart with, rendering him unable to feel. Unable to care.
And tonight the invoice came from a pair of clear green eyes. Scared. Unsure. Young and innocent. But in the end, trusting. Reluctantly trusting, because what else could she do? A little girl stuck in a game littered with the bodies of skilful players.
I need your help, Lex…
Pushing the sheets off, he padded towards his bedroom balcony. He flung the French doors open, letting in the stifling Smallville air. He stayed in the darkness of his bedroom, staring blindly out towards the world. Somewhere beyond the trees was a full moon, casting its eerie-beautiful glow over the inhabitants of the town.
Sleeping somewhere out there was the proof that he wasn’t becoming his father, he already was his father; - a man capable, of seducing a high-school girl into doing his dangerous bidding.
I’ll protect you, Chloe…
She spun a simple tale of just how artfully his father had pulled her from the shallow end, and taken her slowly deeper, deeper, until she was suffocating. Drowning in her own mistakes.
Again, Lex’s autopilot had done the work for him. Lex barely needed to think. He just needed to *be.* First move – enter the game showing enough knowledge to intimidate. Then bypass the goading and the thrusting, with a quick-and-dirty move, designed to bring the deadly heat of reality, crashing down.
…you have my word.
And then Lex’s own card. The one he had over and above his father. The one that in the end would make him succeed.
Lean forward in the chair, eyes locked on hers, voice low and honest. Intimate almost. Utterly sincere. “I’ll protect you, Chloe…you have my word.”
How long had he been tossing and turning in bed, and how long had he been gazing at stars that neither saw him, nor he them? Because the sunset crept up on him from nowhere, stealing the darkness. The farming community of Smallville awoke early, and soon the bodies would begin to rise, going about their mundane daily activities.
Lex pushed the thick curtains closed against the light, mindful that not a ray would seep in. Stubbornly he lay back on his bed, determined to catch at least a couple of hours of rest.
“But in order to do that, I need to know what you have on my father.”
And there it was. The nail to her coffin, the *but* that was what the whole game had been about. And for a moment, he expected refusal. How could she not see? But of course she couldn’t. Callow and inexperienced. That was the whole point. And he’d played the game so well. Her eyes were flecked with unshed water. Was it relief?
“Don’t worry.”
“Um, thanks, Lex -”
Squeeze to her arm. “No problem.”
She was the new pawn in the never-ending Luthor parent-offspring struggle. And it wasn’t even Lionel that had put her there. It was Lex. Protect her? Lex had murdered her. Taken the pre-sharpened knife, and plunged deeply into vulnerable, untouched flesh. She might not feel it yet, but already her body was cooling, preparing itself for eternal slumber.
The wilful sunlight leached into his room, anyway, worming through his eyelids and into his brain. Lex tightened his closed eyes. She had yet to die, and already her spirit was haunting him. He could see her again and again. Angry. Terrified. Scared. Defiant. Tearful. Ashamed…
From the word go, she was good as buried anyway. Her contamination with his father, had marked her. And what could he do? Station a guard outside her room? Hire a food-taster to check everything she ate? Handcuff her to his arm?
He flung an arm over his eyes. All he had done was use a doomed girl. His father had been the one to bring her to the lair.
*