Places We Have Been (NC-17)

Places We Have Been
NC-17/Angst


Disclaimer: Smallville and all related elements © Tollin-Robbins Productions and Warner Bros. Television, All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction, no infringement is intended, no profit is being made.

Spoilers: Everything just to be safe.

Summary: ‘He lets Chloe heal a part of him no one else has ever been able to even touch.’ Set way into the future, Chlex, with hints of Lois/Clark and Pete/Lana. Lindsay and Claire are a figment of my warped imagination.

Authors Note: This was written to get my muse back into shape so it would let me get back to “Everything” and “Missing Pieces”. This will be three parts or so, each one longer than what you usually see from me. The first part is strictly Lex POV, the second part Chloe POV, and the third part will just tie everything together. This is more centered around the characters (their thoughts, emotions, inner demons) than the Chlex, but trust me the Chlex is there.

Everyone is used or referenced throughout. The first part, which is Lex’s POV, contains a lot of Lex/Lillian/Lionel, which I guess my muse felt there simply wasn’t enough of. Lucas is used in the way I see him in the future, I tried to explain it the best I could, but if you have questions (on anything) feel free to ask.



Part I:





When Lex Luthor isn’t outrunning his life he’s getting run over by it.

Many would say Lex is a mystery, indefinable. In all actuality he’s an open book, most people just never want to take the time to read it.

He fucks women because it’s fun, because it makes him feel powerful and in control. Brunettes are his choice of poison, but ever since his days in good old Smallville, USA he’s enjoyed a blonde here and there too. Although it doesn’t escape him that none of them seemed to have the ability to measure up.

He used to take drugs to forget and drink to feel numb. The drinking is still a daily ritual but his days of doing lines in the back of some swanky, over priced club are over. Ruining your liver is far better than destroying your brain, in his rationalized, well thought out opinion, and to this day he sneaks a cigarette every once in a while when he has a sporadic craving. They’re few and far between, but addictions (of every kind) never really go away.

Lex lies because it’s easier than the truth, and really, just because that was the Luthor way. Telling the truth is an act saved for those he cares for and since that list is pretty much nonexistent nine times out of ten he doesn’t have to bother with it. He cares too little about the things he should and too much about the things he shouldn’t. One day he’ll be able to tell you why you should vote for him for President but he won’t be able to tell you why he’s the better choice.

Is it because he is a better man? Probably not. Standing next to him would probably make anyone look like a damn Saint. He’s killed men with his bare hands, ordered the execution of others with a mere flick of a wrist. He doesn’t think about it as much anymore, his impending future, the darkness that future is bound to hold, but it’s still there, lurking beneath the surface. Itching for a chance to make itself known.

It stings less than it used to, but the bite is still there sometimes, licking at his skin in the darkness of lonely nights when his bones are too tired to fuck the nameless brunette next to him in his satin sheets that some would say are as black as his soul.

Women love him for his money and while years ago he would have cared, today it rolls off his shoulders just as easy as his Armani jackets. He doesn’t love them at all so really, it’s only fair. If they’re okay with meaningless fucking in exchange for fast cars and nice jewelry, than who is he to comment?

Most women preferred to be Lex Luthor’s whore than significant other anyway. He knew how to treat the former, but the latter was foreign territory.

He stopped sending the diamond earrings as compensation around the same time he figured out the action held too much resemblance of his father, and now he just leaves without another thought. Less callous some would say, but for him it just makes him look like more of the cold bastard he really is.

Funny thing was his entire life he’d been trying not to become his father, and yet each day little parts of him seem to make themselves known that makes the two more and more alike.

And finally one day he woke up, looked in the mirror, and realized that in spite of all his attempts, destiny would eventually catch up with him.

Lex couldn’t outrun this forever. He would become his father.

* * *

Lionel Luthor and his two sons meet once a month on Sunday for brunch, a habit that started somewhere between the first heart attack and the mild stroke that had followed. Lucas and Lex oblige because he’s still their father even if the term was used in the loosest sense of the meaning. Age was finally beginning to catch up with the elder Luthor, and despite the full head of hair he still possessed it seemed to get grayer in-between visits, and the worry lines that used to cease his forehead occasionally had become permanent fixtures on his still handsome face.

By all rights a man who has suffered three heart attacks, a stroke, and a bout with liver cancer would have left this word a long time ago. But, in perfect Luthor fashion, Lionel just simply refused to die.

Some days Lucas will bring his wife and daughter to their monthly gatherings, and Lex will look on, watching as he sees a side of his brother that he had once thought he would someday see in himself. Lex Luthor and Lucas Dunlevy were brother’s, sure, but the effects of having Lionel Luthor as your only parent were clearer than day to anyone who cared to take a deeper look.

Lucas was bright and young, smiled carelessly with a wife and daughter, who looked at him adoringly, on his arm. Lex was still young by most standards, stunningly handsome with classic elegance, but alone with everything he could ever truly need, void of the only things he’d ever wanted. Still, after all these years, the love of a father is something he’s never known.

It’s the only thing in Lex’s life that bothers him more now than it used to. Foolishly Lex had made himself believe that his father’s love for his mother had somehow made up for the fact that Lionel had never loved him. Day after day Lex had let that childish notion lure him to sleep, comfort him in the place inside him that was emptied the day his mother died, in the place right next to it that was abandoned by his father.

Years later he finally came to terms with the idea that maybe Lionel Luthor had never loved his wife at all. That maybe Lionel Luthor just wasn’t capable of loving anything.

It was okay, Lex thought, he still loved his mother enough for the both of them.

* * *

Chloe Sullivan hadn’t walked back into his life, she’d strolled leisurely, but the effect was still the same.

Lex meets her again years after Smallville and years after both their relationships with Clark Kent had pretty much came to an end. She was older by then, had a wicked smile that tells of amount of wisdom and experience that didn’t match her young age, and for some reason, that Lex couldn’t explain, he found her irresistible.

They had fucked first of course and became friends afterwards.

The Sullivan-Luthor alliance was always up for speculation. Women would sneer and make crude comments of mistresses and whores under their breath when Chloe would walk by. Men would look at Lex knowingly and grin.

Were they friends? Lovers? Two people who occasionally slept together? The answer was yes, to all of the above, but slowly, over time, it had become more than that. Somewhere along the way, Chloe had become Lex Luthor’s best friend.

Friends were a luxury he’d never had, and when he was lucky enough to find one he’d always done something that had them running in the opposite direction. Lex has given Chloe numerous chances for possible exits, reasons to leave more times then he can count- fought with her, yelled at her, insulted her. She knows that he is not a saint, knows of his spotty past and the dim future ahead of him. She knows about LuthorCorp’s less than honest business.

Lex knows that on his particularly bad days she looks at him and sees the resemblance between him and his father- and yet she’s still there. Still with him in the ways that count. Still his friend.

Most days it didn’t even surprise him, Chloe Sullivan was extraordinary in ways no one would ever understand.

“So is she living here now or something?” Lucas asks one day as he flips through his brothers mail, stopping on something that probably had her name on it.

“Her stuff is all over the place if that’s what you mean,” Lex replied coolly, swiping the mail out of Lucas’s hands. Low fat yogurt in the fridge, her stuff in the guest bedroom, her clothes mixed with his in the laundry pile- Chloe had been invading his home and life long before she’d ever officially moved in.

Chloe was still a reporter, only know she was chasing Pulitzer winning stories all over the world, instead of asking him for interviews. He’d offered to let her stay with him saying it was pointless to have her pay for an apartment when she wasn’t there half the time anyway. A selfless action, Chloe had called it with that smile of hers, but really he’d only done it because he liked having her near. There was some sort of comfort he found in her presence that he had once known but had long since forgotten. That he hadn’t felt since his mother.

Their arrangement works for the both of them. He sees other women and she sees other men. Neither are waiting for the other, even though on some of his particularly bad days he lets himself admit he misses her when she’s gone. Chloe knows who he is, knows not to expect romantic dinners and sweet nothings and he doesn’t expect anything from her. They’re friends before anything else, and as unhealthy as it is, he’d rather take the relationship like it is now- rather than not have it all.

Her good nature and natural ability to light up the room balances out his tendency to be antisocial and revert to bouts of seclusion when worst came to worst. He envies the relationships she stills has with Lana and Pete after all these years, the way she’ll call Lois before she leaves on assignment and the moment she gets back. None of them approve of the arrangement between the two, but Chloe takes it in stride, defends it while she does her best to defend him. Her faith, however misplaced it may be, makes him smile and his chest tighten abruptly.

There was something about Chloe that changed him, made him softer around the edges when she was around. He had refused to notice it of course, but Lucas never failed to point it out- he was, after all, the only person who dared. She wasn’t an angel by any means, screwed around just as much as him, used people, hurt people, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not.

Chloe is his equal in all the ways that matter, and sometimes on the nights she returns from jetting across the globe after the story of the moment, she will crawl into bed with him. Sometimes he’ll screw her, and sometimes she’ll screw him, but most of the time they’ll just sleep.

She doesn’t ask who’s occupied his bed in her absence, she just changes the sheets.

* * *

The twenty-fifth anniversary of Lillian Luthor’s death sneaks up on the son and husband she left behind and hits them hard. The day usually starts the same way each year for Lex: the ritual trip to her grave, the couple glasses of scotch that followed, and then to work. To forget, to ease his mind, the heaviness in his heart. This year he’d woken up too late, had a board meeting too early, traffic had been horrendous. He put off the visit with his mother until later that night, tomorrow at the latest.

As the morning dwindled on he started to think maybe he just wouldn’t go at all, he’d forgo it this year.

The call from Lucas had came around noon, he’d taken surprise at the urgency in his voice, the worry in his tone. Lucas’s jagged edges had lessened considerably over the years, had a soft side to him now that if the people opposite him in the board room knew about, it would cause that “cross me and you die” tactic he used to become useless. Yet, he hardly ever worried unless it was about his family, and despite the slight wave of boredom that washed through him, Lex had only been partly concerned when he found out the worry had been for their father.

“He’s in the piano room having a drink,” Lucas says, and there’s a pause and Lex isn’t sure but he swears he can hear the sounds of Beethoven echo in the background, “And I don’t think it’s his first one either.”

Lionel had gotten more health conscious since he had spent the earlier part of his early sixties in the hospital. Lex had it on pretty good authority that he drank green tea, took vitamins and the crystal decanters that adorned Lionel’s private home office mostly went untouched.

Lex finds his father bent over a piano, two bottles of scotch on the bench next to him, on empty and the other well on the way of getting there. The tumbler is long since gone, smashed to the floor, and Lex watches as his father stops his furious pounding of the ivory keys to take a swig from the bottle. His fingers return soon enough, Schubert this time, complicated and angry as Lionel rushes the pace, hit’s the wrong notes a couple of times, but presses on.

“This is a little depressing,” Lex says, voice passive, face emotionless as he throws open one of the drawn curtains, “even for you, Dad.” A heavy stream of sunlight bounces through the room, over the marble floors and black as night piano.

Lionel hit’s a couple more bad notes, and finally stops abruptly, takes another long drink from his bottle, looks straight ahead. “Close it,” he says, tone as cold as ice.

Lex ignores him, makes his way over to the piano and takes the bottles away. He’ll leave the broken tumbler for the help, but for now, in a rare act of kindness, Lex decides he’d save his father from further humiliation and stop this before he drinks himself into an early grave. Lex gets his stubbornness from his father and he knows this is going to be no easy fight, doesn’t really know why he’s bothering.

Lionel is morose, his face looks worn and his hair is grayer than Lex ever remembered it being. He doesn’t look as full of life as he usually does, he looks… heartbroken almost. His eyes are red from the alcohol or maybe it’s from grief, he’s not sure, and Lex comes up beside him, closes the piano top and watches as his father leans foreword and rests his head against it.

Luthors, by rule, never show emotion, not even about this, not even on this one day a year. “Get over it, Alexander,” Lionel had told him the day of her funeral, “You’ll never get anywhere in this world if you don’t.” That thinking had gotten the both of them far in life, helped them let go of the past, but the funny thing about the past was it always caught up with you eventually.

The sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows sparkles off of something on his father’s left hand, and it’s then that Lex catches sight of the wedding band adorning his father‘s hand, on the finger that every day before had been bare. Lionel turns his head, looks towards his son, his face so emotional, more vulnerable than Lex could ever remember him being. Lionel had been making an effort to be a better father, a good grandfather, and this right here, him being so open, so broken should spark something in Lex. Make him feel something.

The ache in his chest he woke up with that morning was still there, but other than there is nothing. Some things just can never be mended, and both of them know it is damn near impossible to repair a relationship that was never really there in the first place.

“I scared Claire away,” Lionel breaks the silence, his voice was genuine enough and Lex remembers Lucas telling him about how he’d yelled at his granddaughter, reduced her to tears earlier that day. “I just… I-”

Lionel looks pathetic, stricken with emotion, and for some reason Lex couldn’t find reason to gloat at this rare moment of vulnerability.

“I know,” Lex cuts in when his father failed to continue, couldn’t find the words.

Claire invoked something in Lionel that he hadn’t had with Lex or Lucas, never had the chance to have with Julian. Claire Dunlevy had been the apple of her grandfather’s eye, he adored her, and no one had any doubt that he would do anything in the world for her. Until now, that is.

Now, she had a dark head of hair, and haunting, piercing eyes, and maybe it’s their minds playing tricks on them, or maybe it’s some cruel trick of fate, but now when Lionel looked at Claire his eyes were hollow, his usual stoic face torn. Claire, at the tender age of seven, bore such a scary resemblance to Lillian Luthor that Lionel couldn’t even bare to look at her.

So it was then, Lex decided, that maybe he didn’t deserve the privilege of being the only one of them to love Lillian Luthor, maybe he didn’t have to love her enough for the both of them. He still would of course, and it was with that thought that he reached out for his father, and surprisingly, Lionel didn’t object when his son helped him to his room.

He ends up picking up the shattered glass on the floor and sent the help home so his father could stew in peace when he woke up. Or drink alone if that’s what he wanted. He drove home afterwards, fighting tears that burned his eyes and he refused to let fall. And when he came to the turn that would take him to his mother, he kept going straight and couldn’t help but look back.

The sun is setting by the time he makes it back to the penthouse, he calls the office on his cell phone as he pulls in to the garage, tells them he won’t be in until morning. He’s the boss and no one argues, and even though he didn’t see her car in the space next to his, he still checks the apartment for Chloe. She’s not there, and as he passes the bar in the living room he pauses, but ultimately keeps walking, collapses on the couch and pulls at his tie uncomfortably. It’s too hot for him, and he knows Chloe bumped up the thermostat before she left.

Lex leans his head back against the couch, closes his eyes, and waits. He’s just not sure for what.

* * *

He attacks her the moment he sees her. Pushes her forcefully against the wall, claims her mouth for his own, and sighs deeply. He can feel the grunt of surprise and he swallows it, feels her shock in the rigid stance she took, feels her start to give in, her mouth open against his, her fingers clutch at his shirt. He just feels her, all of her, and as lovely as it is, he wants more. Needs more. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he needs this. He needs to feel this connection with her, needs to get lost in her.

Their kisses are ravenous and hungry, desperate and she’s fighting him for control every step of the way. She tastes like cigarettes and brandy, and Lex swallows the bitter taste, focuses on her hands cupping his face, his lips against hers, his body pinning her against the wall. He claws at the black satin of her dress, pushes it up then hastily moves to the plunging v neck. Slips his hand inside, urgently and rather clumsily fondled her breast.

It got the desired effect, she writhed and moaned against him, grinding her hips against his deliciously. He deepened their kiss, brought a hand to her face, as hers moved to un tuck his shirt, and held her face in a bruising grip, pushed into her forcefully.

Everything about his movements radiated need, want, urgency, and he knew sooner or later she would retreat, pull away from him. And she did, far too soon for his liking, tore from their kiss, gasping for breath, slid her lovely hands against the smooth skin of his back. It was a movement that usually held comfort, easiness, but now it just put him on edge.

“Can we do this every time I come home?” she rasped good naturedly, moving her hands to his sides, trailing her fingers up and down a couple of times until he shivered in response.

He said nothing, bent down to claim her lips, but she moved, and he merely nipped at her bottom lip harshly, forcefully, saw her wince and did it again.

“What’s going on?”

Not wanting to ruin the moment-which was dangerously close to happening- he smiled as lightly as he could, “nothing,” he mumbled brushing his lips against hers, more gently this time, lovingly and not at all urgent.

“Don’t lie to me,” she moved away from his lips, leans her head back against the wall, looks into his eyes. It’s obvious she sees something there she doesn’t like, and scrunches her nose. “What’s going on?” she presses again, more quietly, more carefully.

He sighs so deeply Lex knows she can feel it, they’re so close, Chloe sandwiched tightly between him and the wall and he can feel her ribs against his as he leans his forehead against hers. Looks into her eyes, “I need this,” he tells her, his voice husky with emotion, “Please, Chloe,” she narrows her eyes in concern, raises her hands to cup his face tenderly. When he speaks again his voice is choking, cracks embarrassingly, “I need this.”

Her beautiful face looks confused for a moment, like she wants to ask something, and she actually opens her mouth to do so, but shuts it abruptly. And he waits, would never dream of forcing something on her she didn’t want even though it was pretty clear she wanted this. And when she nods hesitantly, and then once more with certainty he lets the breath he didn’t know he was holding in out and kisses her. Slowly at first, leisurely, then more franticly, just as heatedly as he had been before.

And then the franticness began again, the urgency consumed him.

Fingers are clawing at her hips so hard he is positive she’ll come away with bruises, her moves his body away from her a mere fraction as their mouths tangled hungrily, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His coat and tie had been gone since before she got home, and he’s glad, because it’s less of a hassle to get the shirt over his shoulders.

Her hands run up his arms, over his shoulders, hug him closely as his tears lace and satin, her dress getting pushed up around her hips, her panties torn and fallen to the floor. His fingers tease the inside of her thighs, caress her too forcefully to be pleasurable before pulling away and reaching for the purse she’d dropped when he’d attacked her. Shoves it in her direction as he worked hurriedly to rid himself of his pants.

Chloe dumps the belongings of her purse out all over the floor in her haste to find the foil packet, kicks her shoes off in the process. Lex waits for her to find it, watching as she places it between her teeth and moves to the zipper of her dress.

“Leave it,” he grounds out, running his hands over her sides as he pushed her once again against the wall, she actually does groan in protest this time and if he weren’t so far gone he’d care, try to soothe her. But he needs this, needs her, and without thought he takes the foil packet from between her teeth and tears it open, slides it on in one stroke and returns back to her.

Cups the luscious curves of her ass and waits for her legs to go around him- which they do- almost immediately. He pushes the dress up forcefully, actually hears the fabric rip this time, and doesn’t wait, pushes right through, doesn’t ask if she’s ready- honestly doesn’t care if she’s not. He watches her face closely and doesn’t wait for her to get comfortable, just immediately starts to move, hears the gasp of surprise, sees the wince of pain. Feels the nails digging into his shoulders roughly.

Lex refuses to kiss her, fears he may not be able to breathe if he does, so he nibbles on her neck, sinks his teeth in harshly and he hears her grunt and moan at the same time. And Chloe takes it, all of it, all of him, gives him this. Leans her head back and closes her eyes as he pounds into her relentlessly, as he searched for a solution he’d never find. Not this way.

He’s not gentle, no gentlemen, even though she deserves him to be. Later he’ll feel guilty about this. About using her for her body, for release, using her like he uses the various women he’s been with throughout the years, in her absences.

“Are you alright?” he asks slowly, the leisure in which he says the words a stark contrast to the constant movement of his body against hers.

She nods once again, refuses to look him in the eye, “It’s just been a while.”

She’s lying of course, but he doesn’t care, just gives in and kisses her, slides a hand between them and applies pressure on her sensitized nub. He’s going to come with or without her, but he still wants to try, wants to give her something. Her hips move in guided movements at first, then to their own accord, and Lex can feel her start to respond, her orgasm start to slowly build. He knew her, had done this enough times with her to know the signs.

Lex’s teeth chatter, as loud as the pounding in his chest, he drives further, faster, harder continues to work his fingers against her, as his other hand grips her hips, guiding them to the movement he needs. “Are you-”

“Yeah,” she rasped, pulling him closer, the friction making them both moan simultaneously, “Yeah, yeah,” she repeats jerking her body in rhythm with his.

Her muscles start to flutter around him, grip him, making the sensations inside him intensify, start him down that same path. It pushes him to the point where if he had control to begin with he would have lost it. And then finally he was gone, came with a jerk and long, guttural moan that somewhat resembled her name. Miraculously she followed quickly, her own release not as strong as his, as strong as it could be.

But Chloe says nothing, just rests her head against his shoulder, her hot breath tickling his skin. After a long while he pulls away, slowly untangles himself from her, lowers her shaky legs to the floor. Watches Chloe take shaky hands and wipe the sweat from her neck, brush hair from her face.

“I’m sorry about your dress,” he says honestly, bashful, ashamed -just like he knew he would be- of using her like he did.

Chloe looks down at herself, adjusts the hem accordingly. It’s far past salvageable, ripped too badly for repair, wrinkled from being bunched around her hips. She shrugs, smiles shakily at him, “It was Lois’s.”

Somehow they make it to his room, and while she changes out of her tainted dress he changes the sheets, crawls beneath them and waits for her to join him. She does, crawls in next to him, into him, asks again, with as little pressure in her tone as possible, what was wrong.

And Lex tells her. Everything. Tells him about his mother, his father, and she understands, ignores his apologizes, doesn’t let him try to soothe the marks on her hips that were beginning to bruise, the bite mark on her neck that would keep her in sweaters and turtle necks for at least a week.

Instead she holds him close, her hand over his heart, and finally falls into a restless sleep, and he follows suit easier than he imagined he would. He lets Chloe heal a part of him no one else has ever been able to even touch.

*

He wakes the next morning with sore muscles and a clear head in an empty bed.

It takes him a few moments before he realizes there should be someone next to him. The smell of coffee lingers in the air and he’s shocked that she’s awake (she is never up before him) and even more shocked when he goes looking for her and finds her in her room. Packing.

The dress from last night is off to the side, and he wonders what exactly she’s going to tell Lois, what Lois will end up telling Clark.

“Morning.”

Chloe pauses in the midst of folding a shirt of some kind, sets it inside the suitcase and turns to face him. “I can only imagine how bad this looks,” she says, and he swears she’s beautiful when she’s not even trying.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving,” she says, turning and folding a few more items and placing them into her suitcase, “on an assignment, I didn’t know how to tell you,” she pauses for a moment, “I’ve barely seen you since I’ve been back, and it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Is this because of last night?” Lex thinks it might be, but knows she’ll deny it anyway.

“Of course not. Why would it be?” another speculative glance is thrown over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, you know the drill.”

He does, and he accepts it, says nothing more. It’s her job, and he doesn’t have a say in it either way. She’ll leave that night, slip out while he’s at the office, and he’ll adjust, maybe get a phone call if he’s lucky. It’s more than he should ask for, he’s pretty sure her father doesn’t even hear about these trips, reporting on the stories that are so gritty no one wants, until they are over.

Chloe drives him to the cemetery later that morning, wait’s a few feet behind him as he lays the handpicked flowers at the foot of his mother’s grave, right next to the single red rose that already laid there. Doesn’t question who put it there, just knows.

Lex wouldn’t have came unless Chloe had made him, and he’s glad he did, feels the cool wind of the early morning rush around them, chilling him to the bone. He pressed a kiss to his fingers and trials them over the curves and edges of the letters of her name, closes his eyes and silently says what he always does: I love you. I miss you. I’m trying so hard for you. Believes she hears them. Hopes she knew then without him having to say them.

Chloe’s touch on his shoulder is soft and comforting, and as he stands his hand slides easily into hers, fingers intertwining as they walked back towards the car. He looks back, tries, even after all these years, not to be so broken without her.

As he pulls out onto the lone road that runs through the cemetery, the voice on the radio sings: “Now it seems to me/ Some fine things have been laid upon your table/ but you only want the ones you can’t get…” he watches the cemetery disappear in the rearview mirror and ignores the ache in his chest. “Your pain and your hunger, they’re driving you home/ And freedom, oh freedom/ that’s just some people talkin’/ Your prison is walking through this world all alone…”

Lex laughs mirthlessly.

* * *

Two weeks turn into two months, which slowly turns into three then six, and Lex stops going home with random women, stops going home with women at all. Does exactly what he said he would never do- he waits for her.

Lucas stops bringing Lindsay and Claire to the Sunday afternoon brunches for a while even though Lionel had apologized profusely for his behavior. Still spoils Claire against Lindsay’s wishes not to, as Lucas looked on. That day is never talked about between Lionel and his sons, and Lex decides he likes it better that way. Finds it easier to ignore his fathers biting comments than it had been.

“Lindsay’s pregnant,” Lucas tells Lex one Sunday as they sit in one of the dinning rooms of Lionel’s house that is really just too big for one person. Lionel had been felling less than stellar these days and spends more of their Sundays laying down then with them, but the sentiment is still there, and Lucas and Lex still come. “She didn’t want to say anything until we made it through the first couple of months, but I had to tell someone.”

Lucas looks proud, happy, bursting to the brim with joy. Lex smiles a real smile for his brother, doesn’t object when Lucas pulls him into a hug, does the macho manly thing and slaps him on the back a couple of times. The situation warrants it and Lex follows suit.

“She’s been listening to classical music all the time now, Bach and Beethoven- says it’s intellectually stimulating for the baby- and now all Claire talks about is learning how to the piano,” Lucas smiles brightly, “We thought maybe you could teach her a little bit, you know like ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ until she tires of it and moves on to dance class or something.”

Lex laughs, doesn’t bother to tell Lucas that she probably wouldn’t grow out of it. She was a Luthor- may have the a different last name, but she was still a Luthor- and piano playing was in their blood. His parents played, his grandparents played, and he’s pretty sure if he ever has children they’ll play too.

For the life him, in that moment, he can’t remember if Chloe plays the piano or not.

Lex hasn’t touched a piano in years. Still remembered how to play, but really just had no desire for it. His mother had taught him how to play, used to sit him down in her lap at the piano and let him rest his fingers over hers as they glided over the keys. After she’d died he’d stopped practicing because his father played, because it wasn’t as fun without those lazy Sunday afternoons when he’d play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for her over and over because she never tired of hearing it.

“I don’t really play anymore,” Lex tells him and wonders if his father has touched a piano lately too. Figures the answer is probably no.

He offers more congratulations to Lucas, and when he returns to the empty penthouse he lingers in the living room where the grand piano sat stiffly, unused in the corner by the windows that towered above Metropolis. His feet carry him towards it by their own accord, and he lifts up the top as he sits down on the bench. It’s the same piano he’d learned to play on, a classic, and Lex bet’s the keys are probably made out of real ivory. Nothing but the best for a Luthor.

His fingers pause over the keys for a moment, press down tentatively at first, then with more sureness. He refuses to play Beethoven, plays Schubert instead, like his father had. It takes him more than a few more measures than it used to of to find his groove, but he does, hits a bad note here and there when his mind can’t keep up with his fingers.

Decides maybe he’d teach Claire after all.

As long as they steered away from the Beethoven.

* * *

Chloe stops going on long term assignments when Gabe’s health starts to fail. Starts spending more time in Seattle with her father than in Metropolis, stops working all together. When she fucks Lex after those visits, she’s always needy and frantic, clawing at his shoulders, his hips, holding him in a death grip- like she never wants to let go. Afterwards she’ll pull away from him, retreat to the other side of the bed. When he wakes in the middle of the night most times she’s not even there.

After she returns from one of the last visits she takes with her father, Lex finds her in the living room nursing a glass of scotch and a cigarette. He hates the habit, takes every chance to tell her so, but he lets it slide this time. She’s stronger than most, always cool and clam, not irrational like she had been when she was younger. The news of the cancer shocks even him, and the way she says inoperable, so coolly, so collected, it makes him shiver.

He doesn’t remember her crying, not once.

That night when he wakes to an empty bed and smells the rancidness of her cigarettes he crawls out of bed despite the aching muscles in his shoulders. He finds her wrapped in one of the sheets from his bed, cigarette between her lips, sitting at the piano. He’s not sure why, but it’s fitting almost, and he smiles when she stubs out the half smoked cigarette at the sight of him.

Her fingers flow over the keys with little ease, she looks uncomfortable, stiff, like she can’t remember the notes. An unfamiliar melody fills the air, it’s not classical, something modern maybe, he decides, but he can’t place it.

“I didn’t know you played,” he says, taking a seat next to her on the bench.

“I’m horrible,” she shrugs and stops playing. “I was better when I was younger.” Silence passes between him, and Lex doesn’t really know what to say, wants to do something to make this better, make her feel better, but can’t decide what it is he’s suppose to do. “I’m going to have to go for a little while, to Seattle,” she tells him quietly.

Lex places a small kiss on her bare shoulder, she smells like cigarettes, scotch and them. “Okay.”

Another silence and slowly she begins to lean into him, “I don’t know if I can do this,” he can hear her swallow the lump in her throat. Her voice thick with emotion, raspy from the cigarettes and lack of sleep. "I'm not even sure I can survive this."

“You will,” he tells her with an amount of conviction he wishes someone would have used when he was younger, when he needed it. “I know you, Chloe, you will.”

“Are you going to be here when I get back?” She sounds worried, uncertain, and he kisses her shoulder again, and then her forehead lovingly.

Says honestly: “I’m going to be there every step of the way.”

She doesn’t cry, even though he can see the tears in her eyes, hear the resignation in her sigh. She just simply rests her head against his shoulder and breathes deeply.

“Will you play me something?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“Anything,” she shrugs, “Something, I don’t care.”

His fingers only pause briefly before they start to flow easily, the sounds of Beehtohven’s Midnight Sonata fill the stiff air of the Metropolis penthouse. Lex doesn’t really register that’s what he’s playing until the third or fourth measure.

When he does he turns his head and watches Chloe smile blindly at him, a true smile, bright and beautiful. He thinks of his mother then, smiling that way up at him as he played for her all those years ago. Too many years ago. He thinks of her, and the ache doesn’t hurt as much, really doesn’t hurt at all.

Lex smiles back.

Usually, when Lex is busy outrunning his life he’s getting run over by it.

Sometimes, he thinks, it’s just nice to know someone was there, next to him, along for the ride.






End Part I

Wow!!! That was excellent. An emotional and intense chapter. Loved it and I can't wait for Choe's pov.

Oh my god. That phraze just keeps on repeating over and over in my head, along with a litany of swaire words. That piece of wrieting has amazed and awed me. This is one of those fics that really gets inside and touches. I am actually kind of confused, because I don't know what to say really, I can't express what this fic has evoked, because it all seems so unsuiterbly pale beside the rich intencity of the fic itself. So I can really only say, well done, for creating a masterpiece. And that I for one, deaply apreceate its creation, and creator. Wonderful, wonderful writing.

I love it can't wait for the next part.

fabulous!

just adding a thred raiting. :D forgot last time!

This is so ridiculously inciteful of something that could be...are you sure you don't live in Smallville?I mean WOW...

This is the first fic that has made me cry. :( It was so heartbreaking but inspiring. But I fear it will end badly. Please say I am wrong. :puppydoge


Hope ~:puppydoge

Awe-inspiring and simply incredible. Perfectly though out and precisely written. Marvelous. I can not wait for the next part.

That was beautiful writing June. It was nice to see how their relationship changed from being casual to holding so much value for both of them, they used each other for their strength. It was great and I loved that you wrote Lionel showing so much emotion and actually letting himself grieve and think about his wife. It was heart breaking and so was the ending. The fact that Chloe and Lex now have each other is enough to make me smile :) I can't wait to read more.

Steph*

That was beautiful. The characters for me just seemed authentic. Lionel's sadness was touching. I got misty eyed when I read how Lionel got upset at his grandaughter. Knowing that would be something that would cut a grandparent to the core.

Lex's view on how his father may not have really loved his mother,is one of those things that people outside a relationship just do not get. The comfort that Lex is able to give his father and also realize that not all is as it seemed was a favorite part of mine.

Chloe and Lex's relationship is I don't know how to describe it, but it is lovely to read Lex go through the motions on how to feel.

This first installment was wonderful to read.

*sigh* I swear to the heavens above, June, I wish I had your way with words. They move me, destroy me and give me hope...oftentimes in the same installment.

I've limited what quotes I will use because, honestly, if I quoted all my favorites, I'd be here for days and take up more space than one person should unless they are posting a story of their own.

Just know that, as always, I adored almost every word :wub:

Quote:

---

in his satin sheets that some would say are as black as his soul.

---

This is what I'm talking about. This is just beautiful.

Quote:

---

But, in perfect Luthor fashion, Lionel just simply refused to die.

---

Made me laugh a little. Also made me a little sad for some reason.

Quote:

---

It was okay, Lex thought, he still loved his mother enough for the both of them.

---

Just a nice, simple line that was so moving.

Quote:

---

"Her stuff is all over the place if that’s what you mean," Lex replied coolly, swiping the mail out of Luca’s hands. Low fat yogurt in the fridge, her stuff in the guest bedroom, her clothes mixed with his in the laundry pile- Chloe had been invading his home and life long before she’d ever officially moved in.

---

There was just something about this. Something so real, something I wanted. Something amusing and oddly touching all at once.

Quote:

---

She doesn’t ask who’s occupied his bed in her absence, she just changes the sheets.

---

BAM! Like I've said before June, you can pack a punch with very few words. Such a simple statement but it had quite an impact on me when I read it.

Quote:

---

Claire, at the tender age of seven, bore such a scary resemblance to Lillian Luthor that Lionel couldn’t even bare to look at her.

---

So sad. Tragic, really.

Quote:

---

And Lex tells her, everything.

---

Thank God! Because I have to say, I was starting to worry that I wasn't going to like the Chloe/Lex relationship (especially the Lex part) after the previous scene. But having him open up to her made it all worthwhile.

Quote:

---

Usually, when Lex is busy outrunning his life he’s getting run over by it.

Sometimes, he thinks, it’s just nice to know someone was there, next to him, along for the ride.

---

What a way to bring it full circle. And this is only the first part!

Can't wait for more (as always)...

Reese

Perfect story. So many emotions in one story and it just won´t let you go, but you really want to read more and more of this.
Like it very much and waiting for the next chapter.

that was beautiful.cant wait to read more

:puppydoge That chapter was just, wow, really well written. I especially liked the first bit with Lex's voice, describing himself...that was really well written and I could so see it tying with how the character is becoming on the show this season. Great work, keep going.

That was just brilliant, I hope you update soon

I'm so glad that Chloe came back!! I was so afraid that she was going to leave for good!! Beautiful story so far, but so heartbreaking!! I'm so glad that Chloe and Lex have each other!! Post more soon please!!

First of all, I am glad to see that people are enjoying this. And I just thought I would try to explain myself and clear up a few things.

Quote:

---

I fear it will end badly. Please say I am wrong.

---

Hope, I can assure you happiness in the end, but I am warning you it gets worse before it gets better. I hope you will read anyway.

Quote:

---

I tend to read Chloe in a slightly different way than you have her here, but I can totally see how this is an authentic, potential route for her character to take--

---

I can understand where you're coming from on this, Zannie, but just keep in mind that this was only Lex's POV, he calls it how he sees it, and more often then not he doesn't see much when it regards Chloe. She has reasons for doing the things she does, and you'll find them out, don't worry. A lot of questions will (hopefully) be answered during the next part, but if anyone still has more don't hesitate to ask.

Oh, and Kelly, it's an Eagles song: Desperado. I thought it fit well too.

Thank you all again for the wonderful feedback, and I'm glad you all are enjoying this.

that was just great please i must have more.

WOW, i need more because that was magical

W.O.W

love lea
xxx

Dark, sullen, morose, beautiful, gloomy, penetrating, bittersweet...this was well written angst so that by itself makes it amazing...yeah, angst is my addiction :D. This story is all-around simply beautiful. I hope I mention everything I want to...that's one of the many things I loved - the length. Also I want to say that unfortunately, I don't have a way with words in the FB department. So, no matter how simple I make everything sound, I really think it's all amazing. :)

Quote:

---

Many would say Lex is a mystery, indefinable. In all actuality he’s an open book, most people just never want to take the time to read it.

---

It's always striking and memorable when a writer introduces a different perspective than everyone else. Everyone has there own style and there all wonderful. But you wrote Lex in a way that I have never thought of before, but regardless is a completely believable and understandable way. Lex doesn't have the need to hide what he is, generally speaking. He doesn't care what people think and therefore it's all out in the open. People believe him to be a mystery because they don't want to know about him.

Quote:

---

It stings less than it used to, but the bite is still there sometimes, licking at his skin in the darkness of lonely nights when his bones are too tired to fuck the nameless brunette next to him in his satin sheets that some would say are as black as his soul.

---

Lex isn't emotionless, who can be every single day of their life? I liked this because it just affirmed and reminded me that yes, Lex is still human and he's still capable of receiveing pain.

Quote:

---

Lionel Luthor and his two sons meet once a month on Sunday for brunch, a habit that started somewhere between the first heart attack and the mild stroke that had followed. Lucas and Lex oblige because he’s still their father even if the term was used in the loosest sense of the meaning.

---

Lionel has been such a big influence, almost the center, of Lex's life. No matter all that he has done, I don't think Lex can ever really be rid of his father, by some other force and by Lex's own choice. And, although Lionel was never really a father to Lucas, he made Lex suffer much more than Lucas can imagine- this was the reason for Lucas being there. I thought it was very fitting that you had them remain in contact with Lionel.

Quote:

---

Lucas was bright and young, smiled carelessly with a wife and daughter, who looked at him adoringly, on his arm. Lex was still young by most standards, stunningly handsome with classic elegance, but alone with everything he could ever truly need, void of the only things he’d ever wanted. Still, after all these years, the love of a father is something he’s never known.

---

I really enjoyed how different Lex and Lucas are. Lucas has a better life because partly he wasn't faced with Lionel's "particular brand of parenting" all his life like Lex has (hehe...I used a quote from the show!...well, part of a quote anyway). Lucas is what Lex might have been, in his own eyes he once believed that he could have been.

Quote:

---

Were they friends? Lovers? Two people who occasionally slept together? The answer was yes, to all of the above, but slowly, over time, it had become more than that. Somewhere along the way, Chloe had become Lex Luthor’s best friend.

---

I love that their relationship is like this right now...undefined. They both allowed themselves to become friends, best friends. They're there for each other and have no responsibilities towards each other.

Quote:

---

Lionel looks pathetic, stricken with emotion, and for some reason Lex couldn’t find reason to gloat at this rare moment of vulnerability.

---

Another part that jumped out at me...I liked how you didn't have Lex being cruel when he was given the opportunity. I think this action holds very true to his feelings. In Covenant, when Lex tells Lionel when he's going to prison that he "wouldn't have missed this for the world"...I felt that that was never what he wanted to say. It was like a child playing with the grown-ups and instantly gloating when they won something. I don't think Lex truly would ever want to permanently hurt Lionel because he is, after all, his father...and Lex still knows the feeling of wanting his love.

Quote:

---

He sighs so deeply Lex knows she can feel it, they’re so close, Chloe sandwiched tightly between him and the wall and he can feel her ribs against his as he leans his forehead against hers. Looks into her eyes, “I need this,” he tells her, his voice husky with emotion, “Please, Chloe,” she narrows her eyes in concern, raises her hands to cup his face tenderly. When he speaks again his voice is choking, cracks embarrassingly, “I need this.”

---

Quote:

---

Lex refuses to kiss her, fears he may not be able to breathe if he does, so he nibbles on her neck, sinks his teeth in harshly and he hears her grunt and moan at the same time. And Chloe takes it, all of it, all of him, gives him this.

---

This part about their relationship was great. Lex asks Chloes permissions to take what he needs. And when he gets his answer he holds nothing back...knowing that Chloe would do this for him, bear it all.

Quote:

---

Lucas looks proud, happy, bursting to the brim with joy. Lex smiles a real smile for his brother, doesn’t object when Lucas pulls him into a hug, does the macho manly thing and slaps him on the back a couple of times. The situation warrants it and Lex follows suit.

---

This was unexpected because in the middle of reading all this wonderful angst, I was like- wait, that's happiness right there. I love that you showed what kind of situations can make Lex smile genuinely.

I honestly loved everything. But there were two things that are very memorable. I really loved how Lex and Chloe were portrayed as being very similar. Lex told her what he felt on the anniversary of Lillian's death and let her take him to her grave. Chloe expressed her vulnerability about her father's situation when she was sitting at the piano. They are both equals in their lives and in their relationship. I just loved their similarities I kept on noticing. The other thing was the security Lex felt around Chloe reminding him of the same security he felt with his mother. This was such a beautiful view and way to put hope into the future of Lex and Chloe's relationship.

Bah...I'm done now :D. Hehe...now it's my turn to apologize for the length of this review. Err...I don't know what to say now...update this soon please. No, no...update 'Missing Pieces'....no, update...You know what, just update something please.

Oh wow... I got teary-eyed by the end... I do hope you update soon...

i decided to read this twice before i replied. so now that i did, i just have to say that this is an excellent first part. you give away so much information in just a sentence or two and that is really powerful.

i like how this story is a narrative. it makes it flow really well and the timeline is fast, and i like that.

im very excited for chloe's pov, i cant wait!

more soon


randa

If I were to sit here and quote every single powerful line that really stroke a chord and made my heart break and my throat tightened, I don't there would be enough espace.

Though I love fluff, thare's something that just attracts me about angst pieces. And when they are so brilliant like this, it's impossible not to weep and feel conected to the characters and their feelings.

There is not one single thing I didn't love about this. All the relationships were perflectly wroted, even the small ones like Lionel with his granddaughter.A master peice.

I had never cry so much reading fics like I have on this board...

June, I had to read this twice tonight to make sure I got the rhythm and flow in my head. So bittersweet and poignant, but what really drew me in was the juxtaposition of Lex as the odd man out in the Luthor clan. He's seemingly become the obvious dysfunctional branch of a visually functional family unit.

Quote:

---

She doesn’t ask who’s occupied his bed in her absence, she just changes the sheets.

---

Knowing this is Lex's thought and seeing how notably unflorid the statement it, the regret sticks out.

Quote:

---

Lionel is morose, his face looks worn and his hair is grayer than Lex ever remembered it being. He doesn’t look as full of life as he usually does, he looks… heartbroken almost. His eyes are red from the alcohol or maybe it’s from grief, he’s not sure, and Lex comes up beside him, closes the piano top and watches as his father leans foreword and rests his head against it.

---

Yet it is only when Lionel is in the winter of his discontented life that Lex accepts his father's grief over the loss of Lillian so many years ago. Powerful visual, June - my favorite of this part.

You've got another winner on your hands, my friends, and call me a fish. I am hooked.

On its own, this is truly a beautiful story with regret and heartache.
Will there be more? Perhaps Chloe's POV? If not, this is a great stand alone story.
:respect:

Wow this was really amazing and so full of emotions! Please continue soon!

wow. oh wow. that shit was awesome.

totally stunned over here.

You know, I haven't been feeling very well lately.

And tonight I finally realized why. *eyes not-updated June fics on NS*

Help a girl out, June. Please *hopeful smile*

Reese

Quote:

---

*in the best whine she can manage* JUNE! :eek: where are you? I haven't seen you around at all! Please come back and feed my fiction addiction.... please, please, please, please!

---

I have had quite a few people PM me over the past few weeks and ask me when the next update of this fic will be, and I just wanted to let anyone and everyone know who is interested that I'm hoping to get one up in the next few days. I have been meaning to post this Authors Note for a while now, but time is a luxury I've been deprived of lately. I have, however, been working on this more than "Missing" and "Everything" the past couple of days, so there will be an update soon.

This story is close to me in a number of ways, and for those of you who know why-- I thank you for your support and to every one else please be patient and know that I am thankful for each and every one of my readers. Please don't give up on me or this story. There are updates in the very near future, I promise.

June

Again, I can't think of any compliment that gets near of what I think of this fic... It's cruelly real, almost brutal, but beatifully wroten. It's one of the bests pieces of fiction I've ever read. Again you got me crying like a baby, and and feeling helpless because of Chle and what she is going trough.
Once more all the realtionships were master pieces and at the last line was just...Strong, and totally heart brokening.

And I can't wait to read the rest.

Wow that was confusing. The time really jumped in the begining. Its very sad. :(

intense please update soon and make it happy this time.

There aren't enough words to describe the sheer excellence of that chapter. Heartbreaking, powerful, beautiful, manificent writing. Well done, can't wait for part 3.

:( This is so beautifull written, I hope you update soon

It's so sad, depressing and well written. Waiting for the next update.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by June

She finds the nearest phone, dials the first number that comes to mind. Keeps pushing away tears angrily because they just won’t stop falling.

Lex doesn’t answer and it’s then, only then, that she finally allows herself to break.

---

Lex, answer the freaking phone! What's wrong with you?

Love it, love it, love it. Wonderful update, I love how you've portrayed Chloe and Lex's relationship.

Places We Have Been
NC-17/Angst


Author's Notes: I took some liberties with Chloe's character here, I'm not Catholic so if someone is and I wrote something wrong let me know. And in case anyone is confused: the first section of this part is the only one set in the past. It probably should have been placed in the last update but it didn't work out that way. Read, enjoy, and let me know what you think. Thank you everyone for you kind reviews, they mean a lot more than you think.






Part III




One time Chloe had left Lex.

It hadn’t been because of a fight, because she was upset or hurt in any way, she just left. The day she took him to his mother’s grave, the day after he’d taken her up against the wall and left bruises that were seared into her skin. Left a mark on her soul that made her break-- silently, slowly, completely unbeknownst to him.

Chloe never understood why she had done it, why she had lied to him about some assignment that wasn’t suppose to start for weeks-- all she knew was she needed to get out. Needed time and space, and to figure things out because everything in her life was a mess. In a complete disarray and the one person she had counted on to be strong and unyielding had broken and come to her for fixing.

She didn’t even know how to fix herself, to fix her own problems, tackle her own demons and he wanted her to mend his wounds? Be his shoulder to cry on? Chloe didn’t even know where to begin, how to begin.

So she left, packed her bags and got on a plane to Seattle. Ate the tasteless airline food, drank a glass of scotch and thought of Lex. Realized somewhere mid flight that she really didn’t have anything to leave. That leaving sort of lost it’s effect when the person you were leaving didn’t know you were leaving them.

Maybe she was selfish, she was pretty sure she’s screwed up in every which way-- but she didn’t know. Didn’t know about him, how she felt about him, or worse: how he felt about her. They were a web of feelings and emotions that she could never figure out. One minute they were one thing and the next they had become something else. Something less than what they were, something more depending on the day.

It had hurt her head when she thought about it. Made her feel as helpless as ever, made her cry because she realized that what she felt for him was stronger than what it was suppose to be. Love was never suppose to be in the equation, not for her, not for them. Her and Lex were only suppose to be friends who indulged in their carnal urges every once in a while because it was better with each other than anyone else.

In college she had been promiscuous, a slut. She used guys because it was fun, and she always got out before the tables were turned. Chloe took and took and took until they didn’t have any more to give and in the end she was always the winner. Chloe played dirty so she would never get hurt, but with Lex, she painfully realized, she was playing it safe.

Not by being with him of course, because that was as dangerous as it could get, but by not sharing parts of herself with him. By always telling herself don’t give to much, don’t say too much, don’t show him your scars, your secrets. Don’t, Don’t, Don’t, her mind kept telling her when she was with him, and she slowly realized over time that playing it safe did exactly the opposite of what everyone had always told her it was suppose to do-- it hurt her.

When she took her assignment in Africa-- reporting on the civil war in one of the poorest countries of the world where children, babies, were being taught how to use a gun instead of read, for the first time she looked at other guys. Took interest in a photographer they had sent with her that time, cute and handsome-- a geek-- but to her that just made him irresistible.

They kissed. They slept together. They held hands and Chloe forgot to call Lex. There were times when she didn’t even think about him. What started off as a three week assignment turns into a month, then two and when she’s done she takes another and decides to request for him to come along with her. Jeff-- that was his name -- held her after she got the call about her father.

He was sweet and caring and said all the right things. But when he kissed her, touched her, made love to her sweet and slowly-- which was incredible but just not what she needed-- all she saw, all she felt was Lex. And before she knew it she was back in Metropolis, back with him, falling into the same patterns.

Her footprints were like tracks in the snow that she knew was leading her to this great, big downfall but she traced them anyway. Took the same path she had before. Couldn’t help it.

Lex weaved this web around her that dragged her back in when she started to escape.

It was so much easier, she found, to fall back into old patterns than trying to forge new ones.

* * *

When she was younger she had attended Sunday School because her parents made her. After her mother left she attended mass with her father and ignored the pitiful looks that were sent their way the “that poor little girl” comments she had heard but didn’t truly understand until much, much later in life. Smallville brought a lot of new changes, and her father had stopped going to church sometime after their move and somewhere along the way Chloe had stopped believing.

It wasn’t until Gabe had met Joanna that he returned to his faith, and up until the cancer had finally overtaken him every Sunday you could find him at the eight O’clock mass at St. Mary’s Church.

Chloe walks through the church now, after consolation and condolences and prayer-- things she is surprised she still remembers-- Father Michael talks about arrangements and Chloe nods at the appropriate times but really doesn’t listen. She makes the proper payment plans with the funeral home afterwards-- puts half of it on her credit card and the rest she pays from pocket.

It has been raining for the past three days and by the time she makes it back to the house, it’s finally began to lighten up, the torrential downpour slowing into a slow drizzle that fell from the blackened skies.

There is an unfamiliar car in the driveway, and she lights a cigarette as she enters the house, conveniently turns her head as she passes the bare library and makes her way to the back towards the kitchen..

“Anna?” she calls, her voice harsh, raspy,--from crying and trying not to cry and all the smoking she’s been doing the past few months. It’s horrible, what she’s doing to herself, but she stopped caring months ago.

Chloe’s stance immediately straightens, her senses on immediate alert as she enters the kitchen. The cigarette gives her an excuse not to say anything, and she watches him stand-- cool and impersonal in his business suit and muddy shoes as he turns to her.

“Hi,” is all he says, and she looks for that spark he always had when he saw her-- that gleam in his eye. Chloe looks for certainty from him too and looks away when she doesn’t find it.

“Thanks for coming,” she says automatically, impersonally, the same way she’s said it to every single other person who has stopped by in the past three days. “Have you been waiting long?”

Chloe is angry with Lex for not calling, for not answering his phone three nights ago. For breaking that promise he’d made months ago-- because he hadn’t been there, not at the beginning or even at the end, and when he was it was only by way of phone calls and in-between business meetings and sometimes during his lunch hour making her feel like a nuisance than what she was-- or was supposed to be.

But he is here now, and somewhere inside of her Chloe knows that means something.

Anna makes a quick exit and Chloe stubs out her cigarette because she knows he hates it. Lex steps closer to her, unsure, nervous almost and as he reaches out to grab her hand, his fingers curling around her slender wrist and pulling her close, and she feels a warmth she hadn’t felt for ages. She feels strength she had needed all along, and she burrows closer to him, hugs him tightly.

Better late than never.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his neck again, “for coming,” she says and means it this time.

Food is delivered over the next few days--tons and tons of it, pasta, cake, pie, peach cobbler that would never be eaten because no one likes it but no one also had the heart to tell the sweet woman who made it that. On the day of the funeral it is still raining, pouring actually, and she can hear the crackle of the morning thunderstorm as she slides into the cold wooden bench in-between Nick and Lex. It echoes off the marble walls and floor, the stained glass windows.

Lex’s hand slides easily into hers, and she turns into him but still looks forward. Chloe realizes then why her father had loved this pace so much. It's peaceful and haunting with a nice mix of innocence.

She wonders pitifully as the Priest begins the services if she had been a better Catholic, if she had believed just a little bit more would it have made a difference? Would her father still be alive? Joanna? Selfishly she believes if she had all that would be true, selfishly all she can think about is why this is happening to her. Why now? Why now when she still needed him so much?

She was raised Catholic and she knows what goes where, when to kneel, when to cross herself-- even when she isn’t paying attention. When she’s thinking about Sunday morning mass with her parents, then with her dad, and then not going at all. When she’s thinking about how she didn’t even know where the nearest church was in Metropolis, how her father used to tell her to sit up straight, not to chew the communion wafer until she got back to her seat.

“Amen” echoes throughout the large church, and Chloe says it a beat after everyone else-- her face stoic and unreadable as she goes through the motions without thinking.

Afterwards, the reception is held at the house, hundreds of people crammed into the living rooms, the kitchen, the dinning room and Chloe makes her rounds. Shakes hands of cousins she doesn’t remember, Aunts she hadn’t seen in ages. Lois is there, off to the side and as far away as possible from Clark. Pete and Lana too, and Lex is somewhere in the midst of it all, caught between this relative or that friend.

Chloe looks for him but can’t place him, but she knows he’s there, she can feel him.

* * *

“So,” Chloe draws the syllable out as she collapses onto the bed, exhausted and tired and desperate for sleep that she knew wouldn’t claim her. Not tonight. “How are you?” It feels good, she thinks, to be the one asking instead of the one being asked.

Lois taps the pack of cigarettes against the plam of her hand, obviously contemplating taking one. She quit years before, but Chloe knew that quitting never really worked-- most of the time you just ended up going back to the habit when things got rough. Lois’s own situation warrents it, but she still sets the pack ot the side.

“I’m alright,” her voice drops and Lois slides deeper into the chair. “I asked him for a divorce.”

When Chloe had first heard about the troubles in their marriage she had laughed it off. Waved her hand and said “Clark and Lois can beat this, they beat everything.” Now, almost six months later, she is starting to realize there were so many things she had been wrong about.

“I love him, Chloe, I still do.”

“I know you do, Lo.”

“I mean,” she laughs ruefully, “I’ve loved him since the minute I stepped foot in Smallville I think, and now, after all these years I still love him… but it is so hard. It has always been just so hard.”

“Clark isn’t an easy person to love,” Chloe says easily as she taps her foot against the foot of the bed, “You are stronger than most for even trying.”

“He think it’s because of who he is.. Because he’s,” she pauses and looks at Chloe expectantly for a moment, “you know. But it’s not, it has never been about that.”

“You know what I keep thinking about,” Chloe laughs as a memory filters through her mind, “Do you remember when we were younger and we would play around in your father’s study and we ended up breaking that thousand dollar antique vase?”

Lois laughs too, her sad, remorseful fase transforming into a beautiful smile as she does so, “And we tried to glue it back together with Lucy’s craft glue and your dad found us and took the blame so I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Chloe can remember every word of his tanget, every look on his face. The memory plays in her mind over and over and it makes her happy and sad at the same time. A smile comes to her own face but it’s bittersweet. She misses him, she wants him back.

“We can’t depend on our parents to fix our mistakes any more.”

Lois seems to understand what she’s saying, the underlying meaning in it all and the smile falls from her face immediately. “I don’t want to walk a way,” she says somewhat defensivly, “You know I hate giving up, hate failing at anything. I just… It’s hard Chloe. It’s always been so, so hard and it’s like climbing a mountain only the top never gets closer and at the end of the day he’s farther and farther away.”

Chloe does know, boy, does she know. She loved Clark Kent for four years-- longer if she really thinks about it-- and in the end she realized, pitifully a little to late, that all it ever did was bring her pain. Chloe doesn’t hate Clark the way Pete thinks she does, she doesn’t resent him in some way for breaking her heart. She resents him for lying, for not trusting her. Pete was right-- he was her best friend before she ever realized he was a boy and she resents him the most for not seeing that specific aspect of their relationship the same way she did.

“Maybe you guys should give it time, try to work it out.”

“I‘ve given it time,” Lois says, sitting up straighter in the chair and reaching for the pack of cigarettes again. “Maybe we just aren’t suppose to work out. Maybe this was just in the cards for us and I was foolish to think otherwise.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, Lo, you’ll be fine. You’ve surived without Clark Kent before.”

Lois smiles sadly, twirls a cigarette between her fingers. “I just wish we could be more like you and Lex.”

Chloe laughs heartily, tries to imagine any other time when those words would have passed through Lois’s lips. When she would have meant it. “Lex and I aren’t anything. We just keep waking up in the morning...”

“You’ve been living with him for what? Five years? And he’s here, that’s gotta mean something is working.”

It’s funny because she can remember every year she’d ever lived without him, every morning she’d woken and he wasn’t next to her. She has to count backwards on her fingers to realize she hasn’t been living with him forever, that she hasn’t been with him for just as long. Years seem to mesh together and Chloe finds her life is divided into two parts: Life before Lex and Life now, with him.

There would be a time when she would have to classify life without him too, she knows, and she hates thinking about it.

Lois leaves late into the night, hugs Chloe close like she never wants to let go.

“If there is anything, anything, I can do,” she begins the moment the embrace breaks. “Please let me know.”

“I’ve got it covered.”

Lois frowns, “you always were an awful liar.”

She’s gone before anything else can be said, and Chloe is immediately grateful as she lays back down on the bed that she never said “I’m sorry.” It’s what everyone says, the same two words over and over and she’s tired of hearing them. Tired of people being sorry-- she’s sorry enough for everyone. She never wants to hear it again.

Lex makes his way into the room some time later, looking tired and worn as he pulled at his tie and slipped it over his head. He’s dealt with realtives and friends and Clark for her and she smiles sadly towards him as he slips out of his shoes and places them right next to hers. To the left like always.

It’s familiar and foreign to her at once and she wonders how that could be. How he could be standing just a few feet away from her, how she can know him so well, hold him so dear in her heart and yet she still feels alone. Empty.

“We were in New York,” she says without thought as he unbuttons his top button and tugs at the collar of his shirt, “In Manhatten.”

“When?”

“When your father had his stroke,” she watches out of the corner of her eye as he sits on the foot of the bed, somewhere near her feet. “We went to that small church in the middle of nowhere and we sat and prayed,” she clears her throat when he still didn’t look at her. “Well I did anyway,” she says as an afterthought and Chloe sits up and draws her knees to her chest, the black dress-- half of a suit combo she bought years before-- slides up in the process.

They haven’t talked much since he arrived, haven’t really done much at all, and most nights they will lay in silence and ignore each other and everything else around them. He’s there, she thinks as Lois’s words echo in her mind, and it is almost enough. Only it’s not and she knows it.

“Lois is depressed,” she remarks for no reason at all and only because it easier to talk about this-- about other people’s problems-- than their own.

“I would suspect she is.” Lex doesn’t know them half as well as she does, wrote them off years before and had the strength not to look back, but he wait’s a beat before continuing. “They shouldn’t have gotten married.”

“That’s easy for us to say, but then again what do we know?”

Lex raises an eyebrow at that, his eyes meeting hers head on. He’s sad, tired and she can see in his eyes what must be in hers too. He had told her once, such a long time ago, that when she hurt he hurt. That they were connected somehow. It went both ways she knows now, but what he was feeling then couldn’t possibly be close to what consumed her daily.

“I can stay as long as you need me too.”

He had come to Joanna’s funeral years before, in-between meetings and mergers and stayed a total of three days in the spare bedroom down the hall because her father had said so. He can afford to take off as much time as he wants but he won’t -- he’s much to responsible, too much of a Luthor and Chloe knows “as long as you need me too” translates to three or four days so please don’t ask for longer.

It surprises her as she picks at the soft lace of the blanket on the bed how well she knows him. And it clicks into place then-- the aches and the longing, the job offers that were always coming and would always be there just in case. She knows him so well and yet there are days when she feels he doesn’t even know her at all.

“There’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done here,” she says quietly and avoids eye contact. “We have to do personal effects and I may… I might have to stay here for a while.”

“I can leave Saturday,” he traces a line from her ankle bone up her calf and then back down, “or Sunday if it’s easier for you.”

“I don’t know, Lex,” she rests her cheek on her bare knees, moves her ankle out of his grasp. “I can’t just leave. I have to stay and I don’t know for how long.”

“What do you want, Chloe?” He says it earnestly, honestly, and his voice holds patience and love and she hates him for it.

Hates him for being patient with her, for understanding. She’s a jumbled mess of feelings and emotions and she doesn’t know what she wants. She wants to touch him and yell at him, she wants to fuck him so badly she can already feel his skin underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t want to need him.

“I want to be left alone,” she says instead and it gets caught in her throat and she has to swallow painfully to get rid of it.

Lex doesn’t ask and Chloe doesn’t explain.

Silence fills the room and it’s eerie and calming at once. Chloe moves herself to the other side of the bed and lays down, her arms at her sides and ankles crossed. She watches Lex finish undressing for a few moments, closes her eyes and waits for the bed to dip, for him to slide in next to her. He doesn’t reach out for her nor she for him and sleep takes her by surprise, like a hunter pouncing on it’s prey and aiming right for the jugular.

When she wakes a few hours later she’s still in the same position-- arms at her side, ankles crossed and still wearing her black dress from the funeral. Lex wakes seconds later, turning over from his side and on to his back as he blinked away sleep and exhaustion. He stares at her-- fixes her with that same stare he used to look at Clark with-- like he was trying to figure her out, trying to learn all the secrets she keeps from him.

Lex stares at her like she used to stare at a sentence that wasn’t formed correctly, that confused her, and Chloe doesn’t apologize. Just moves closer and reaches out for him, and surprisingly he lets her.

The next morning he packs his things and does not say a word. They hug goodbye and he kisses her briefly on the lips, his arms around her wasit tightening, bringing her closer as he does so. He hasn’t asked her to come back with him, and she’s not sure what he’s discussed with Anna and Nick but she figures, as his eyes bore into hers somewhat coldly, that whatever it was it was enough for him to know they would let her go with him in a heartbeat.

“I got a job offer in San Fransico,” she tells him quietly, her tone conversational as the wind blew around them promising more rain to come. “I think I’m going to take it.”

Lex just stares straight at her, balancing his overnight bag on his shoulder, his eyes cold and lifeless-- pale blue-grey like her fathers and it takes her breath away. Chloe stares at her feet-- her dirty sneakers that need replacing, her jeans that had holes in the knees and were fraying every which way possible.

She looks like a little girl when standing next to him. He is all elegance and sophositacation and unleashed anger that was simmering below the surface. And yet he continues to say nothing, just stares at her-- eyes cold and unfeeling behind that deliberately placed Luthor mask.

Another moment and he walks away.

Chloe watches him from behind the closed front door. Watches him slide into the rental car and not look back. She slowly makes her way back upstairs, back to a room that had become hers over the past few months, crawls back on to the bed. On to the side of the bed he had occupied for the past three nights.

She breathes in his scent and closes her eyes. She does not wish for things so impossible. She does not sleep.

* * *

Left behind are papers, letters, pictures she refuses to look at. Old clothing and furniture that would probably never be used again. Nothing was left that didn’t have value besides sentimental. They weren’t rich people by any means-- but what is left behind is used to pay doctor bills and to pay off debt. The house is in all of their names, Joanna and Gabe having wanted to keep it in the family, but none of them want it. It’s suffocating and holds memories they want to forget.

Like everything else it was only a matter of time before that was gone too.

The house smells of carnations and flowers that could only bloom in the fall. Floral patterns that were hideous and filled with too much baby’s breath and not enough roses. Days go by and she writes thank you notes to people who have sent food that will never be eaten and flowers that never get watered. The sympathy cards-- piles and piles of them-- get stored away and it gets to the point where she stops opening them. She just pushes them off to the side, forgotten.

Time passes by when she’s not watching it-- when she’s dusting or vacuuming or scrubbing the floors. It ticks slowly at night when the wind blows and the harsh coldness of early winter sets in. She sleeps weird hours, most times not even at all, and drinks coffee and soda and eats fast food and take out because it’s easy and she is so, so tired.

She goes through her father’s belongings bit by bit each day. Sorts clothes for the salvation army, boxes up books and files and personal items-- some of which she keeps for herself as reminders, tokens of certain memories from the past she wants to remember. One day she comes across page long letters, postcards bundled up and bound by a rubber band in one of his drawers. They are the one’s Chloe sent home during college and she reads every single one and tries not to think about how much time has changed her.

Lois calls every once in a while, their phone calls are long and they talk about everything and Chloe is relieved when she finds out her and Clark are building towards a reconciliation. Neither of them are sure if it will work out-- sometimes things are never suppose to be mended and she knows this too well. When Lois asks her what she thinks will happen Chloe says nothing. She doesn’t gamble too much on the future anymore.

“Nick’s going to bring the kids by next week,” Anna says on day in early December as they sip bitter day old coffee. Neither one caring, neither one really noticing. “They want to see you.”

“That’s good,” she says with a sigh, her nails that were bitten to stubs drumming against the table top restlessly.

“They miss you,” Anna presses on a she sets the coffee aside.

Anna left weeks before, back to her job, back to her life, and Chloe is the only one left now. Left in a now spotless and dust free house that smells like Pine Sol and Glade air fresheners. Besides Lois no one calls anymore, and even though she’s here now, Anna’s visits are few and far between. Chloe can’t decide if she likes it, but she knows it’s better than the alternative. Silence was better than coughing and counting breaths that weren’t hers.

She blindly reaches for her pack of cigarettes and easily lights one. Anna makes a face of concern, then disgust, but still reaches for the ash tray and places it in front of her.

Her perfect forehead creases, “That stuff kills you, Chloe.”

The blonde’s smile is bland, cold, and dangerous, “That’s the basis of it’s appeal,” she says without emotion and her throat after all these months is still scratchy and sore.

Anna’s brown eyes narrow, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared at Chloe carefully. Regarded her oddly. As if she were a puzzle and Anna couldn’t find the last piece to put her back together.

“What are you doing here, Chlo?”

Chloe blows out a stream of heavy smoke, twirls the lighter between her thumb and forefinger before setting it back down with a loud clang that echoes throughout the kitchen.

“I honestly don’t know,” Chloe says and even she is surprised by her answer.

That night she flips back and forth between late night talk shows restlessly. Does not sleep. Does not dream. Reaches for a book beside the bed but can’t concentrate on the words. She slides out of bed and makes her way towards the bathroom-- the wooden floor then the linoleum cold underneath the soft pads of her feet.

One cigarette is consumed before she even starts the shower and then another as she waits for the water to heat up. The house is old-- too old-- and the water heater takes forever to start working. Chloe doesn’t mind the coldness of it though, lets it wash over her, cleanse her. It’s refreshing and scalding at once, and it alerts her senses. The shower takes longer than it normally would, and as she rubs brand new soap over her skin that smells like African Violets, Chloe is surprised to be reminded that not everything in life smells like stale cigarettes and Dial soap.

Skin is wrinkled and raw from scrubbing when she emerges from the shower, she wraps a light blue towel around herself and wipes the steam off the mirror with her bare hand. She steps back so she can see as much of herself in the mirror as possible and ignores the way the blue towel makes her skin look paler than usual, almost translucent. Chloe stares dispassionate and resolute into the reflection of her own lifeless, green eyes.

She looks like hell. Maybe even worse.

Bags are black and noticeable under her eyes, collarbone and cheekbones are more prominent than ever before, and her skin is dull and loose. She reminds herself of a ghost and as she takes in a deep breath she can imagine the way her ribs poke out, become even more noticeable with the movement. Bony fingers trail up and she repeats the process, and Chloe isn’t surprised when she can count her ribs through the bland blue towel.

Chloe looks aged, tired, and worn. Used. And as her eyes meet her own in the mirror once more she realizes she barely recognizes herself. Barely knows the lifeless green eyes staring back at her.

Chloe stands in the bathroom with nothing but herself and her own reflection and she feels tired. Beyond exhausted. Her bones, her muscles, her mind. She’s exhausted, and her reserves are exhausted and as she washes the remains of her smoked cigarettes and discarded ashes down the sink she is suddenly very tired of feeling alone. Of being alone.

“What are you doing here, Chlo?”

She takes her pack of cigarettes and tosses them into the trash.

And she honestly does not know.







End Part III.

Damn you're good. I'm running out of adjectives to describe how awesome this story is. I'm afraid to quote the best parts cos I think I'd end up re-posting the entire chapter. Chloe is breaking my heart in this fic. Why is she closing herself off and pushing Lex away??? :puppydog: Completely excellent update.

I love this story. I never thought as Chloe being the closed off party in their relationship and pushing Lex away, and him being all understanding and doing the right things [ even through it isn't necessary all she needs] but somehow it fits. I feel so bad for both of them.
This story does have a happy ending right?

I wish I had more eloquent words for this piece but I don't.....Marvelous, brilliant, emotionally gut-wrenching and simply wonderful.

I don't have time to reply to your last post before you put up part 3 but what an amazing story. It's heart breaking and I can't help but feel for Chloe and everything that she has to deal with, with all the emotions she must be feeling after her father's death. But it's killing me that she's pushing Lex away, I know that their arrangement isn't conventional but there's love there and she's letting it go. Just so sad, I hope, HOPE that there's a happy ending but I guess I'll have to wait and see, update again soon!

Steph*

Beautifully written. Can't wait to see how you end it.

I don't think I can write anything that will meseaure up to this fic. Every part is just so real, and you don't think it can get better, but it does...

I swear I will come back and try to do a better review...maybe when I stop crying, or actually being able to tipe coherent words...

This story is full of ouch. I just kept saying ouch over and over. It is so compelling though because you feel the impact of each scene so clearly.

Wow. Just caught up with all of this. It's almost overwhelming to read all of it in one go, and it's only three chapters. LOL I don't even know where to start. I rarely ever tear up at movies or books and things like that, but man... I started balling when Gabe died. I mean like full on tears. And there were a few other places where I teared up as well.

This is so well written. You really have a knack for detail. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent but you've clearly spelled out Chloe's grief in this. It almost hurts to read about it.

I just hope Chloe realizes that Lex went through the same thing with his mom and that he seems to still be dealing with it, so she knows she's not alone in her pain. And hopefully she'll be able to find some comfort from him.

Quote:

---

Usually, when Lex is busy outrunning his life he’s getting run over by it.

Sometimes, he thinks, it’s just nice to know someone was there, next to him, along for the ride.

---

This really stuck with me. Three chapters later and it's still ringing through my head. It just seems very... human, to me. I have a feeling that that line is going to stay with me for a while and it's definitely already one of my favorites from any story I've read.

Well done and I can't wait for more.

~Manda

I hate putting off updates, especially on this because I really need to finish this story, but it is going to be a little longer than I expected for the next update of this-- or anything. I'm nearing the end of my rotation at the hospital which pretty much means for the next week I go to work when I'm told and I stay there until I'm told I can go home. And on top of that I have two other jobs so *takes a deep breath* It's going to be a busy week. I already know I'm working two twelve hour shifts this weekend (luckily not back to back) but next week I'll be doing a double shift sometime-- I won't know until my schedule is posted tonight. So it will probably be impossible to write anything...

So bare with me guys, an update is coming just not as soon as we would all like, but I swear to you it will not be another month until you hear from this again. I can never thank you enough for you patience with me. I really hope you all are enjoying this story.

Have a great weekend,

June

Quote:

---

I'm freaking you out now aren't I?

---

No hon, you're not. In fact that is quite possibly the most flattering thing I've ever heard. I'm glad to hear someone is reading my stories and enjoying them...

I'm training to be in pediatrics. I want to work in emergency medicine-- although I am quite resigned to the fact that life in the ER is nowhere near what it looks like on ER. Luckily, I'm okay with that... and if anything the residents are much, much cuter here. Thanks for being patient with me 'Belle, I know how hard it is. :D

Have a great Friday everyone!

don't work too hard June! Take care of yourself!

Like AnnaBelle, my bf is in Med School too... I can't really imagie how hard it must be ! So I wish you really good luck with your shifts *hugs*, and hope you can get a good night (or day) of sleep as soon as possible :blinkkiss

Like everyone else, I'll be waiting patiently (well I'll try my very best!), 'til you are able to write.

Again, good luck with your work!

Part II and III were intense. It inspired a strong sense of sadness in me that was bitter and lovely in its grimness. Throughout the story, many different tangents are touched upon. What made it compelling was that they all related to each other in some way. Some aspect of the previous paragraph was carried over to the next paragraph and so on. Each different memory, emotion, along the way strengthened the emotion I felt and pulled me forward.

Chloe is strong, stubborn, resilient, resourceful (and many other things). Yet here, she abandons these (and more) characteristics. Here she seems so unlike herself. And it is because of her personality that I believe makes her reactions and feelings to Gabe's dying that much more devastating and true. Death is extreme and life-altering. I believe that it would be incredibly hard for Chloe to deal with something she has absolutely no control over.

Lex and Chloe's relationship could be viewed as complex. How deep her love for him runs is obvious. Seen from Chloe's p.o.v., Lex may seem cruel at times (him saying that he stay for however long she needed, however meaning only a few days), but that is only from Chloe's p.o.v..

Quote:

---

He was sweet and caring and said all the right things. But when he kissed her, touched her, made love to her sweet and slowly-- which was incredible but just not what she needed-- all she saw, all she felt was Lex. And before she knew it she was back in Metropolis, back with him, falling into the same patterns.

---

She can forget ( keep him out of her head) about him during times when she is almost carefree or somewhat happy. But, when she needs someone, it was only Lex she could think of, feel.

There are so many things that touched me as I read. It's truly amazing how you've built Chloe's characterization just through this time of distress and death. I felt as if I was with her. As if I knew what she was thinking, what she was going to think and feel and do. You've written this story beautifully. It made me feel for Chloe, and simply just feel.

Strangely (in that I'm not very fond of smoking), one of the aspects that have stuck with me throughout is Chloe and her smoking. I'm not very fond of smoking. I love how you gave reason to Chloe smoking.

Quote:

---

Chloe half stumbles down the stairs of the back porch, drops on to the cool cement and leans her head against the fading dullness of the white paint. The sky is blue and cloudless as she lights the cigarette, bright and beautiful. Abundantly filled with promise. As she takes a drag of the carcinogenic stick, it pulls back, takes something away from her. Makes her feel empty. Alone.

---

To me, this part seemed very powerful. In such an appealing manner, you depicted the pain and illness that (I feel) comes from cigarettes. Chloe let death surround her. And by each cigarette she smokes, she voluntarily pulls more of that death into her.

I can't describe how beautiful this story is in its ability to make its readers feel what is actually going on in the story itself. Can't wait for the next update!

Fascinating story. You make it seem so real, it's easy to get lost in the story. I seriously hope you are going to come back soon to finish it. I need to know how it ends! please...

*Still sitting on her chair waiting for an update*

Hey, could I get on of those marshmallows ?

Quote:

---

You hear that June? Update!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please????? I'm distraught here...

---

Same here... Please, please, pleaseeeeeeee????? Just one tiny little update?

Places We Have Been
NC-17/Angst


Author’s Notes: It has taken me forever, I know. But I have been dealing with a few real life issues that needed my full attention. This has been an uphill battle, trust me, and grew very close to me in a number of ways which is why I needed to take my time to give you the best work I am capable of giving. Thank you all for your time and patience and especially your wonderful feedback and PM’s of support. I say this every time, but it really does mean more than you can even imagine. So this is it ladies, as promised the fourth and final installment. Read, enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Big thanks and a lot of credit to beantree, who inspires me with her PM’s and mindblowing stories and kicked my butt into gear.





Part IV





She can taste the adrenaline in her mouth-- mixed with cheap soda, comp- limentary peanuts and a trace of peppermint from the gum she had chewed on for hours. Her heart beats, head pounds, and as she slips her key into the lock she swears she can feel it turn, the vibration as the lock clicks out of its place. The door is heavy against her shoulder-- heavier than she remembers it-- and the apprehension she feels as she pushes it open and sets her bag on the floor is immediately overcome by something else.

Something that plagues Chloe as she glances at her dirty sneakers and ratty jeans fading into the marble floor of the entryway. She breathes deeply, closes her eyes and the apprehension somehow starts to ebb away. The weight on her shoulders lifts. Feels almost nonexistent now as she closes and locks the door behind her.

Green eyes scan familiar surroundings and the pounding of her heart and in her head stops. She knows she was right before, that trusting her instincts had been the right choice.

This is home.

Sneakers tap against the floor as she searches every room as if she’d never been here before. She explores as if it were the first time and something foreign washes through her. Fingers trail across a discarded copy of The Daily Planet, across table tops, the backs of chairs-- the leather and silk like fabrics cool and smooth under her fingers.

She spots the piano in the corner-- used, and not at all as dusty as she remembers and she smiles as memories she has forgotten-- almost lost-- flood back and overwhelm her.

The kitchen is spotless; the floor spot free and shiny as new. Everything is as she remembers it-- not a thing out of the ordinary and she likes it that way. Likes that she knows exactly where to find things she left behind, likes the familiarity. Welcomes it gladly. She recognizes these eggshell white walls just when she had forgotten what that was like.

Her bedroom door is closed and she opens it and the euphoria slows down as she sees boxes stacked upon boxes full of clothes and books. Her bed is bare, nothing but the flower print of a mattress where her blue as the sky comforter had once laid. She sees that in the corner, folded with sheets and bare pillows on top of it and her heart starts to ache in a dull, pulsing movement.

For a second Chloe thinks she understands, thinks she gets it. And she is suddenly reminded of just how hard this is going to be, how there had been something to leave this time and she had made it very clear that was what she was doing.

She closes the door with a silent sigh and makes her way farther down the hallway. Lex’s door is closed, just like hers had been, but his office door was left slightly ajar and she lets herself in. Is not even the least bit surprised when she finds him sitting at his desk, fingers clicking against the keys in a rapid movement.

It is a scene she has seen over and over throughout the years, a sight she’s gotten used to. But it is different today.

Chloe is suddenly reminded just how much she had missed him. How much she had missed them. Just how much she had missed the person she was when she was here, with him.

Fingers continue their movement and she crosses her arms over her chest, shuffles her feet nervously. His beautiful eyes do not meet hers, his handsome face does not show acknowledgement in the least. And she is okay with that, she does understand. She deserves it.

But it hurts. Hurts too much and she can’t stand it. She has done nothing but hurt for the past year and she doesn’t want to feel that anymore. She wants to be here, to be with him, and recognize the person staring back at her in the mirror. She wants to like that person staring back at her in the mirror. She wants him to look at her the way he used to-- and she knows that is going to be the hardest thing to achieve.

Chloe clears her throat. Continues to shuffler her feet restlessly. Waits for him to answer. To do something in acknowledgment of her presence.

He does nothing.

“So,” she begins, her voice foreign to her own ears, “You packed my things.”

Lex finally does look up at that, pauses his actions and meets her eyes head on. Regards her for a moment, his eyes sweeping up then down then back up again. He makes an effort to sneer in disgust, but it comes out half assed and she can tell he didn’t mean it. Which, she figures, was a good thing because she was getting sick and tired of missing something that didn’t exist. Something that she wasn’t suppose to miss. That didn’t miss her back.

There is a glimmer of hope for her in his response, and she lets it give her strength that she desperately needs.

“I thought it would be easier for you,” he resumed with his typing, eyes back on the computer instead of on her. It makes her feel empty, alone-- like her cigarettes used to make her feel-- and yet somehow it hurts more now than ever. “When you move to San Francisco.”

“That’s rather childish, don’t you think?”

“Actually, I thought it was rather realistic. Why stay any longer in a place you don’t want to be?”

His normal coolness is replaced with traces of anger and disappointment-- two things he never, ever let show. It bites at her skin and makes her heart ache.

“Lex--”

“No,” he cut her off coldly, “I get it. I do. I had stupidly thought that what was holding us back was that you didn’t know what you wanted,” he laughed ruefully, pushed the keyboard away from him and leaned back in his overpriced chair. “it turns out I was wrong. You know what you want, you just don’t want this.”

“That’s not fair--”

“Life isn’t fair, Chloe. You and I both know that.”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Lex,” Chloe says, tired and defeated as ever.

He meets her eyes again, “There’s nothing left to argue about. You left.”

“I had to leave--”

He sends her a pointed glare, “You know full well what I meant, Chloe.”

“I didn’t leave. I took a step back... I was confused--”

“You couldn’t have been confused here in Metropolis--”

“No--”

“This was honestly something we couldn’t figure out together? Work through?” Lex’s voice was angry, teetering the edge of furious and for a person who usually did so well to guard his emotions he was doing a poor job of it now. It gave her just inkling of the severity of the situation and that amount of hope she has held on to dwindles. Slowly begins to fade away.

“How was I even suppose to know that there was a ‘we’ to work these things out together?” Her voice is calm, surprisingly neutral and not so surprisingly tired. “You’ve never given me any indication that we were any more than two friends who occasionally--”

“Don’t say it,” he cuts her off, “Don’t you dare say it. I offered to stay, I asked you what you wanted and you said you didn’t know. That you wanted to be left alone. What else was I suppose to do? Bare my soul to a woman who didn’t seem to care.”

“You knew how I felt about you…” she swallows the sudden thickness in her throat, tries to ignore how soft and vulnerable her voice sounded. How so unlike her it was, and how somehow over time she has gotten used to it.

Lex laughed ruefully, short and gruff. “That’s just thing, Chloe. I didn’t.”

She says nothing. Can’t find it in her to say anything. There’s so much to say, so much between them that needs to be resolved. There is so much damage she is drowning in it and she can’t figure out a place to start climbing her way out. Fears, at the end of it all, she is going to drown and take him down with her.

Lex stands, crosses the room and moves past her, and makes his way down the hall towards his room, and she follows despite herself.

Follows him despite the fact that the Chloe Sullivan she used to be would never follow him. Anywhere. Would never follow anyone.

Yet, she realizes too as she enters him room behind him, that the person she had been before these past months had happened was lost. She didn’t know her anymore and as she sees a blue as the sky pillow on his bed, mixed with his pristine white ones, something thaws inside of her that she didn’t realize was frozen.

And Chloe understands, knows somewhere inside of her, that somehow this-- what was so obviously between them-- would be okay. She hopes, somewhat foolishly, that everything would eventually work out. She didn’t know whether she could handle losing someone else. Losing someone else she loves.

She draws in a deep, shuddering breath, watches his back as he moves towards his closet. “I should have let you take me home, Lex.”

He stops. Turns slowly to look at her. His face frozen, shuttered, but his eyes were beginning to regain that warmth she was so fond of. That warmth she had missed so dearly.

“I realize that now, I do. And I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t--”

“I also realized,” she cuts him off, stepping further into his room, “That I know almost everything there is to know about you. I know your favorite color, favorite food. I know that you love it when it rains because it reminds you of your mom and that you like winter better than summer and that in your top nightstand drawer you keep a picture of Lindsay and Claire because you want that but you’re so damn stubborn you won’t admit it,” Chloe smiles sadly towards him, watches him watching her with a blank expression she’s become to used to over the years. “I know all of that about you, and you know nothing about me--”

“It’s not by choice,” he says angrily, taking one, single step closer to her. “I’ve been waiting here for five damn years for you to open up to me Chloe and you wouldn’t do it. I’ve always been here, always been waiting, and all I ever got in return was nothing.”

Lex was right. So incredibly right and it makes her feel awful. Cheap, and she knows she has no one to blame for this mess around her but herself. Chloe has been having this conversation over and over in her head for days, weeks almost and whatever she had imagined-- whatever scenario she had thought up-- it hadn’t gone like this. The situation had never gotten this far out of her control.

But it was now. Was spiraling away from her and she had to do something. Anything. She started speaking so suddenly and rapidly that she even surprised herself.

“I hate the left side of the bed,” she begins when he went to say something further, cutting him off completely. He looks surprised and confused and she ignores it. “I hate it and I never tell you because I always thought it was trivial, and stupid-- but I still hate it. I hate that some mornings the first think you do is pour yourself a glass of scotch and then turn and nag to me about my smoking. I like summer, not winter. I hate the rain, and I really, really hate Lois some days because she has everything I’ve ever wanted-- the chance to have everything I’ve ever wanted-- and she was so quick to want to throw it away. And I really, really don’t like the way I am when I’m not with you,” Chloe lets out a breath she realized she hadn’t been holding in and tries her very best to not let the tears threatening to fall spill over.

She hates crying. Has done it so much in the past few months that she honestly doesn’t think she has any tears left. And she is so tired, so tired of pretending. Pretending to be alright, pretending that she doesn’t love Lex. Tired of lying to herself when she manages to convince herself that San Francisco was even an option. Because it wasn’t, she knew it all along, she was only just now acknowledging it.

Better late than never, she thinks again like she had months earlier, but still knows it may not be enough. Not for him.

“I hate it, Lex,” Chloe says tearfully, “I hate needing you the way I do. And I’ve tried not to, tried to push you away, but I’m still here. I still came back and that’s got to mean something, right? I mean, it has to. It has to, Lex, because I just can’t do this anymore.”

Lex look just as exhausted as she felt, looked tired, and worn, and used and Chloe realizes she knows those feelings too well. He shuffles his feet, rocks back and forth on his heels, avoids her eyes.

“And I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry-- and I never say that and actually mean it,” she pauses and laughs ruefully, “Because I am hardly ever sorry about anything. But I am, Lex,” Chloe chokes on his name, her throat suddenly dry, eyes burning. “I am sorry, you have to know that.”

When he finally does meet her eyes, when he takes the few steps between them and bounds over to her, she knows. Knows that this is what it is suppose to feel like. This is what she had felt all along and it is okay. She recognizes it. This is love, and it isn’t easy, and it sure as hell isn’t perfect but it is her. And it is Lex. And for now, for right that moment it was enough.

And as he pulls her against him forcefully she felt the tears she’s been holding in for months-- not tears for her father, not tears for herself but for him, for them for what she had done to them-- fall in steady streams down her face.

“I should have let you take me home,” she whispers over and over against the warm skin of his neck.

And she is broken. Breaks so easily and it doesn’t even surprise her anymore. She is Confused. And so, so exhausted. So she clings to him, clings to the one thing she knows now she always had within her reach, but had pushed away in a moment of sheer stupidity.

And when Lex kisses her like she had hoped against all odds he would-- gently, tenderly, his lips moving against hers with such precision and cautiousness, she kiss him back. Harder, more desperate as if everything she needed, everything she wanted could be found by just kissing him. By just holding him close and never letting go.

It scares her-- for a brief, fleeting minute-- the moment she realizes just how much she really does needs him. But when his arms wrap around her waist, her body being brought closer to his by what seemed like his own sheer will Chloe knows he needs her just as much-- even if he never said it.

Lex slows his kisses, tortures her with a few, short simple brushes of his lips before he pulls her closer-- if that were even possible-- and rests his cheek above her hair.

Neither one of them say anything. Can’t think of anything really to say. They just stand there and bask in the presence of one another. Drawing strength from each other, drawing love from one another and knowing that with that love and that strength they can rebuild the cracked foundation beneath them, the bridges that seemed to have been burned over the last months.

It wasn’t a new beginning or a fresh start. It wasn’t a do over. It was a continuation of something that would always be flawed. Would never be perfect, but would always be there. Something that was worth fixing.

Chloe realizes this now, and she hates herself for not seeing it sooner.
Hands run over her back, and she can feel his frown of disapproval, “You’re too thin,” he says softly and places a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Chloe sniffles, pulls away and wipes the tears from her splotchy face. “I’ve been a wreck,” she laughs pitifully, “I’m still a wreck. But I’m going to try and catch up. To be better.”

She thinks of all the soda and fast food she’s eaten and her stomach turns unpleasantly. It makes her remorseful and sick thinking about how awfully she’s treated her body. How neglectful she has been about taking care of herself.

“Although, I think I may become a vegetarian.”

A look of distaste crosses Lex’s handsome features, “Tofu and cigarettes isn’t a suitable diet, Chloe.”

“Neither is scotch and cigars,” she raises an eyebrow in a weak challenge.

“Some would beg to disagree.”

Lex’s voice is rich with amusement, his face still that solid mask of Luthor indifference, but his eyes-- his cool, gray- blue eyes-- hold a fondness she remembers. A lightness that made them seem less cold and more loaded with an emotion she has seen for as long as she can remember but would never admit was there.

It is love at its finest and scariest moment and it takes her breath away.

* * *

In his bed this night Lex is hungry and adulterated with lust and want and need. His hands are roaming over her body every which way as he pushes her towards the bed, overcome with the need for her that has been building up within him for months. Chloe begins by matching him kiss for kiss, grab for grab, but as her back hit’s the mattress with a silent, beautiful thud she slows her hands. Slows the kisses.

“Slow,” she tells him, her lips a breath away from his, “Please,” it’s a quiet plea and it gets caught in her throat the moment his eyes-- raw and dark with desire-- meet her own.

Lex slows his hands, his kisses to a leisurely pace. He kisses her then like he has all the time in the world, and suddenly, to Chloe, nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that they shouldn’t be doing this so quick, so soon. That they should talk about things more, mend what is broken between them. It doesn’t matter because even though they were once sensible, smart adults in what feels like another life, they are now two completely different people-- and somehow to them, it makes this okay.

Neither one of the can explain it, don’t want to even try, and sooner or later they will both realize it doesn’t even matter anyway.

Chloe’s ratty jeans are long gone-- removed with precision she barely remembers, but still knows all too well. It’s been too long since they’ve done this, since they have taken their time and felt every muscle, every limb and both of them soon find themselves doing nothing but feeling. Just closing their eyes, their lips barely touching as they memorize each other. Make new memories in their minds to erase the old ones that can never measure up to this, right here, right now.

Green eyes looking more alive than they have in months watch in sudden fascination as Lex’s nimble hands work on the buttons of her sweater. Each one removed from its hole slowly with an amount of attention she’s never seen Lex give. As his pushes it open ever so slowly revealing paleness and plain beige satin underneath, she swears his hands shake as his fingers trail over her prominent ribs, the skin at her sides. A breath catches in his throat and a shiver runs up her spine as the muscles in her stomach quiver underneath his gentle touch.

Lex kisses her then, full and hard on the mouth, his hands clutching almost bruising on her hips. “I missed you so much, Chloe,” he whispers truthfully, his lips brushing hers with every syllable and tears pool at her eyes and she chalks it up to the moment. To being overwhelmed. But it’s more.

It will always be much more. Always has been.

She pushes the tears back, willing herself not to cry. Moves her hands to his pants and pushes them down, slips his shirt over his shoulders and kisses him like he’s the only thing in her world-- which isn’t far from the truth.

Lex’s fingers fumble with her bra, his once quick and nimble fingers that used the skills he had acquired over the years shaking and faltering at every turn. It has been almost a year since he has done this and not because there weren’t opportunities-- they have always been there at every turn-- but because it was never with Chloe. And no matter how hard he had tried the memories that ran through his mind behind closed eyes could not erase the reality of any woman that was beneath him.

He has tried to forget her, tried to move on, but he didn’t really want to and even if he did he always had a sneaking suspicion his heart wouldn’t let him.

Lex has missed her so much. Missed her touch, her smile. Missed this. He tells her over and over as his lips brush over the skin of her neck and cheeks, her forehead. When their bodies finally meet, connect on the most intimate level, the moan that escapes from his throat is loud and primal and echoes throughout the room and mingles with Chloe’s before finally fading away.

And then he looks at her, watches her close her beautiful eyes, a hint of a smile on her kissed lips, and he tells her how beautiful she is and kisses her again ever so lightly. He moves inside of her, a fraction of an inch and watches her eyes slide open, meet his and suddenly they are both overwhelmed. Caught up in the moment and full of emotions that grip them both and will not let them go.

The slow place that had set the tone in the beginning edges away as kisses become deeper and more frantic, holding turns to clutching, and hips meet hips with increased frenzy with no sign of the skillful movement they once shared. Lust and love intermix within them both and join the need and want that has been simmering for months and over take them both completely. Renders them speechless and thinking coherently takes an extra effort neither one of them can focus on.

Kissing become a desperate task as their pace becomes hungry, and suddenly they were both acting out of instinct, their movements primal. Lex’s lips brush against Chloe’s for a fraction of a second and it is all too much. He pulls away, rests his forehead against hers as his hips worked against hers, their breaths-- hot and heavy-- mingling with each others between them.

Nothing is said as her mind hazes over with fuzziness and images of Lex's handsome face, Chloe’s eyes falling closed as she groans and whimpers under his touch and the sounds echo around them beautifully.

Chloe loves him, and bites her tongue from saying it out of habit as orgasm threatens to overtake her.

And yet, Lex must understand, he must know, because in a moment of what feels like sheer perfection he says it first and sounds so sure, and it sounds so right, she can do nothing but follow suit. And she means it, every word of it and it is the most amazing thing in the entire world.

They appear to be the same two people, doing something they had done countless times before. But it was different now. It feels different.

It feels better.

If there are tears they are stroked into her skin by fingers in a loving, tender touch or disappear under his lips. They are now much older than they used to be and more tired than ever. It has been too long and it is over too soon but a languid smile crosses her features as he rolls off of her and pulls her closer.

They have all the time in the world.

With his arms around her, warm, inviting, and secure she falls into sleep easier than she has in months. She dreams a true dream of New York-- making love all morning in between his meetings and walking down narrow streets that are filled with too many people. His father is sick and the woman she used to be couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t go to see him, makes him go to a church and sit there next to her as she prays for a man that by some standards didn't deserve it. The woman she has become understands completely.

Lex watches her wake with their legs intertwined, his fingers comfortably resting in-between her own. He’s laying crooked on the bed, her head on his stomach, and she kisses his navel softly before turning towards him. It’s still night and the dark, cold Metropolis night streams in through half shut curtains and a gentle stream of snow could be seen falling and blanketing the sleeping city.

Her blue pillow is resting behind his head, and she can’t help but smile.

Chloe moves farther up his body, the sheet falling in the process and like a weight that has been lifted from her shoulders she feels alive and more free than she has in months. Lex watches her with half a smile and feels the strain of exhaustion pull at him when he moves to adjust to their current position. He hasn’t slept at all, his mind cluttered and racing a thousand miles a minute. He is full of coiled energy underneath the surface and he hasn’t felt that way in years.

“What are you thinking about?” Chloe asks, her voice light as she kisses his shoulder and snuggles closer to him.

His arm doesn’t move to wrap around her like she expects, and her eyes turn to his cautiously. “You…Us.”

She raises on her elbow, rests her head on her hand and smiles, “Oh, really?”

“I’m enjoying something,” Lex says nothing for a long while, turns his eyes away and then speaks. His voice is tinged with pure surprise and a hint of irony. “I’m angry with you.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise, she should have seen this coming a mile away, but it is and she didn’t. Chloe moves away out of instinct, flops onto the bed next to him dramatically. “I can understand that,” she sighs heavily. She doesn’t like it, but like the boxes in her room and the pillow behind his head, she understands somehow.

“I’m angry with you,” he says in pure amazmenet. “I’m never angry with you, I never really get truly angry,” he turns his eyes towards her, and he can feel her arm next to his, and it surprises them both when he doesn’t reach for her hand. “This is a pretty big deal, Chloe.”

“I should have let you take me home,” her voice is quiet, a mere whisper in the large room that smelt of them and their love making.

“That’s not… I mean, yes, you should have, I am not going to argue with you there,” he turns his head towards her, “but you don’t push me away, you don’t keep me at arms length. It doesn’t matter where you are, Chloe, don’t stop talking to me, and don’t lie to me. I’m all you have,” he looks her in the eye, swallows thickly. Speaks after a long, pregnant pause, “And you’re all I have.”

Two years ago she would have argued. A year ago she would have apologized. But now she does nothing. She feels sort of like crying, but surprisingly she doesn’t do that either. Chloe has done everything he has said and worse, and he’s still here, still with her and she realizes that he’s a better person than she has ever given him credit for.

“I have lied,” she admits quietly, tracing mindless patterns on the little patch of sheet between them. “A lot.”

Lex looks at her out of the corner of his eye, “You are an awful liar.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he stares at the ceiling, playing over every conversation, every lie. Tries to forget how it had hurt in a way he had never imagined to have her look him in the eye and lie to him. “I’ve always been honest with you.”

It’s half the truth, she knows-- neither one of them have been particulary good at the whole honestly aspect of their relationship, but it isn’t the time to say anything, so she doesn’t.

“I am genuinely angry with you, Chloe. ” he says, and he sounds legitimately amazed at the entire situation.

Chloe stairs at the blankness of the ceiling, closes her eyes and sighs silently. “Alright.”

“I need space. Time. I need to get over this. I can’t be with you and be angry with you the way I am. I might need to leave for a little while.”

She reaches out to touch his hand, but stops herself. Drops it to her side and swallows thickly. He isn’t touching her, isn’t looking at her so he doesn’t see her response, doesn’t see the panic overtake her for a breif, fleeting moment. A month, maybe two? Six or maybe even a year? She calculates the time in her head-- 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes-- Chloe thinks she could handle a year.

“How long,” she strays off for a minute, looks over at him and lets her eyes roam over his face, “For how long do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, and he honestly doesn’t. How long could he handle being away form her? He looks at her seriously, considers the question with as much seriousness as he does the business that consumes his life daily. “A couple of days. A week maybe.”

A breath passes through her lips she has not realized she has been holding in. Air rushes into her lungs, and she feels immediately at ease, relieved and she laughs despite herself.

Even in the darkness of the room, Chloe can feel his scowl. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“I don’t,” she tells him seriously, burying the unleased laughter in her throat. “That was rueful laughter. I assure you.”

He places his arms underneath his head, “I think it’s important, I think we both need this.”

In this twisted relationship they have always had Lex has always been the impulsive one, Chloe the one that acts out of common sense and makes sensible choices. It’s odd to see him like this-- see him older and wiser than ever before-- but she welcomes it. Change can be a good thing, and the both of them know full well changes are going to have to be made for this to work between them.

And she wants this to work, she wants this more than anything.

“I’m going to call,” he says all of a sudden, still obviously frustrated by her laughter. “I reserve the right to call, and check up on you. Make sure you’re consuming more than those damn cigarettes you insist on smoking,” he pauses, looks over her, “I mean, if I want to, of course.”

She doesn’t tell him that she quit smoking, figures he’ll figure it out eventually. “You should go pack then,” she tells him raising an eyebrow in the dark.

“It’s three in the morning,” Lex says, not showing any intention of moving. Of going anywhere any time soon.

It’s easier to do this now, the both of them know.

Easier for her to lie next to him, millimeters away and not feel as far away as she used to. Easier to see his eagerness to walk away. Easier to lose him completely because she has experienced and understands the idea of loss better now. Easier for him to see her readiness to make it work and know what he has to do to achieve it. Easier for him to look at her and see her dear face and know that she and what they have isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“I know,” she says quietly and reaches her hand out for his and because his is already there waiting she knows they both understand everything better.

That this is it. Everything and everyone else was just practice. Stepping stones to get them to this point in ther lives. They understand that they have seen how awful life can get, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor and her strawberry shampoo in his shower isn’t as scary as it used to be.

It’s a welcomed sight and they are both now just realizing it. It is a little late in the game, sure, but the game is still going strong and that is what matters the most.

They unconsciously move towards each other at the same time-- tiny movements that look like nothing but mean everything. She pulls the sheet up over them both with her free hand, the other resting firmly in his. He does not move, does not look at her, but his fingers intertwine perfectly with hers and she closes her eyes, counts her own breaths and listen to the steady stream of his.

And when she finally feels his eyes on her, feels him move closer to her, she slips back into a peaceful slumber for the second time that night and dreams a true dream of the future instead of the past.






End.

I've read this two times already and the lump in my throat is so strong that it's almost sure that if i open my mouth I will be crying even harder than I'm now.

I feel kinda bad for not having enough words to describe what I feel about this fic cause you really, really deserves it.

Cloe's realization of what she was doing to her and to Lex,the thruth about how Lex felt all that time. And mainly his anger towards her, his acknowledgement of it and the choice to work that to try and pass that...Chloe and Lex's relatioship just can't get more real than this.No words can't be more sad nor give so much hope than the ones you used.

This was a kick in the stomach, a hard one. Trough the whole storie the kicks keept coming and at some point it really hurted. Character problems and sadness and dispair were mine as well.

It wasn't just a fanfiction. It was a piece of art, one of the most perfects understandings of an completely messed up relatioship in many levels. The kind of, once in a while, we find ourselves in.

I'm usualy too lazy to quote, but this time I couldn't resist.

Quote:

---

When he finally does meet her eyes, when he takes the few steps between them and bounds over to her, she knows. Knows that this was what it was suppose to feel like. This was what she had felt all along and it was okay. She recognized it. This was love, and it wasn’t easy, and it sure as hell wasn’t perfect but it was her. And it was Lex. And for then, for right that moment it was enough.

---

That's it. The point where she finally undertasnds and welcome what she feeld. Perfect.

Quote:

---

It wasn’t a new beginning or a fresh start. It wasn’t a do over. It was a continuation of something that would always be flawed. Would never be perfect, but would always be there. Something that was worth fixing.

---

I like this line. It seemed somemewhat necessary, to show the evolution, the progression and that forget all they've went tough it wouldn't make things right. And you've done it perfectly.

Quote:

---

That this is it. Everything and everyone else was just practice. Stepping stones to get them to this point in ther lives. They understand that they’ve seen how awful life can get, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor and her strawberry shampoo in his shower isn’t as scary as it used to be.

---

This kinda reminds me something my friend once said, and I just love that line.

That's it, there are no more I can use to describe how much this affected me other than this is that kinda of storie that,once in a while you just have to find and read again, and every time you will feel the connection with the characters and the emotion your writing evokes.

I would love to go into a big long thing but it's late and I have to pack, but I am so happy that you updated!! This story just has so many nuances and I'm so glad that Chloe came back...that she was finally able to realize that there was something more to their relationship. I understand why Lex has to leave but you're killing me! I want him to stay and I then they can make more amazing, beautiful love. Just great, update again soon!

Steph*

:worship: :worship: Excellent update and ending to this wonderful story on so many levels. Glad that Chloe decided to go back to Metropolis and that she realised where home really was.

Quote:

---

I also realized,” she cuts him off, stepping further into his room, “That I know almost everything there is to know about you. I know your favorite color, favorite food. I know that you love it when it rains because it reminds you of your mom and that you like winter better than summer and that in your top nightstand drawer you keep a picture of Lindsay and Claire because you want that but you’re so damn stubborn you won’t admit it,” Chloe smiles sadly towards him, watches him watching her with a blank expression she’s become to used to over the years. “I know all of that about you, and you know nothing about me--”

“It’s not by choice,” he says angrily, taking one, single step closer to her. “I’ve been waiting here for five damn years for you to open up to me Chloe and you wouldn’t do it. I’ve always been here, always been waiting, and all I ever got in return was nothing.”

Lex was right. So incredibly right and it makes her feel awful. Cheap, and she knows she has no one to blame for this mess around her but herself. Chloe has been having this conversation over and over in her head for days, weeks almost and whatever she had imagined-- whatever scenario she had thought up-- it hadn’t gone like this. The situation had never gotten this far out of her control.

But it was now. Was spiraling away from her and she had to do something. Anything. She started speaking so suddenly and rapidly that she even surprised herself.

“I hate the left side of the bed,” she begins when he went to say something further, cutting him off completely. He looks surprised and confused and she ignores it. “I hate it and I never tell you because I always thought it was trivial, and stupid-- but I still hate it. I hate that some mornings the first think you do is pour yourself a glass of scotch and then turn and nag to me about my smoking. I like summer, not winter. I hate the rain, and I really, really hate Lois some days because she has everything I’ve ever wanted-- the chance to have everything I’ve ever wanted-- and she was so quick to want to throw it away. And I really, really don’t like the way I am when I’m not with you,” Chloe lets out a breath she realized she hadn’t been holding in and tries her very best to not let the tears threatening to fall spill over.

She hates crying. Has done it so much in the past few months that she honestly doesn’t think she has any tears left. And she is so tired, so tired of pretending. Pretending to be alright, pretending that she doesn’t love Lex. Tired of lying to herself when she manages to convince herself that San Francisco was even an option. Because it wasn’t, she knew it all along, she was only just now acknowledging it.

Better late than never, she thinks again like she had months earlier, but still knows it may not be enough. Not for him.

“I hate it, Lex,” Chloe says tearfully, “I hate needing you the way I do. And I’ve tried not to, tried to push you away, but I’m still here. I still came back and that’s got to mean something, right? I mean, it has to. It has to, Lex, because I just can’t do this anymore.”

Lex look just as exhausted as she felt, looked tired, and worn, and used and Chloe realizes she knows those feelings too well. He shuffles his feet, rocks back and forth on his heels, avoids her eyes.

“And I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry-- and I never say that and actually mean it,” she pauses and laughs ruefully, “Because I am hardly ever sorry about anything. But I am, Lex,” Chloe chokes on his name, her throat suddenly dry, eyes burning. “I am sorry, you have to know that.”

When he finally does meet her eyes, when he takes the few steps between them and bounds over to her, she knows. Knows that this is what it is suppose to feel like. This is what she had felt all along and it is okay. She recognizes it. This is love, and it isn’t easy, and it sure as hell isn’t perfect but it is her. And it is Lex. And for now, for right that moment it was enough.

---

Gahh. This entire exchange was just wonderfully written. Chloe acknowledging her mistakes and the fact that she's the one who never let him in (which considering who Lex is, is quite the feat). Loved how she started revealing bits of herself to him and how she laid it out to him about just how much she needs him. For a second there I was scared he wasn't going to give her a chance but then he took her in arms and the tears started.

Quote:

---

Neither one of them say anything. Can’t think of anything really to say. They just stand there and bask in the presence of one another. Drawing strength from each other, drawing love from one another and knowing that with that love and that strength they can rebuild the cracked foundation beneath them, the bridges that seemed to have been burned over the last months.

It wasn’t a new beginning or a fresh start. It wasn’t a do over. It was a continuation of something that would always be flawed. Would never be perfect, but would always be there. Something that was worth fixing

---

I think I loved this especially. Something about the way you said it that's just so beautiful and real and describes their relationship so perfectly.

Quote:

---

[It’s easier to do this now, the both of them know.

Easier for her to lie next to him, millimeters away and not feel as far away as she used to. Easier to see his eagerness to walk away. Easier to lose him completely because she has experienced and understands the idea of loss better now. Easier for him to see her readiness to make it work and know what he has to do to achieve it. Easier for him to look at her and see her dear face and know that she and what they have isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“I know,” she says quietly and reaches her hand out for his and because his is already there waiting she knows they both understand everything better.

That this is it. Everything and everyone else was just practice. Stepping stones to get them to this point in ther lives. They understand that they have seen how awful life can get, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor and her strawberry shampoo in his shower isn’t as scary as it used to be.

It’s a welcomed sight and they are both now just realizing it. It is a little late in the game, sure, but the game is still going strong and that is what matters the most.

They unconsciously move towards each other at the same time-- tiny movements that look like nothing but mean everything. She pulls the sheet up over them both with her free hand, the other resting firmly in his. He does not move, does not look at her, but his fingers intertwine perfectly with hers and she closes her eyes, counts her own breaths and listen to the steady stream of his.

And when she finally feels his eyes on her, feels him move closer to her, she slips back into a peaceful slumber for the second time that night and dreams a true dream of the future instead of the past.

---

Loved that even though Lex feels he needs time to get over being angry at that they both realise that this it for them and that their future is together. A truely excellent story from start to finish. You've done an awesome job.

It was really amazing. I don't really have words except for that, amazing, and beautiful.
I know I said it before, but there's this authentic feeling to it, like it's real, with the 'not everything is always perfect' feel.
Thank you for having written this splendid fiction.

Alright, I wanted to adress a quick issue now instead of later because due to Real life complications I won't be around much for the next week or two. I have recieved quite a few PM's concerning a sequel or continuation of this story, and as much as I loved writing this story, I am going to have to say the answer is a definite no.

I know I didn't give you all the happy Chlex ending that you were looking for, but this was honestly the best that I could do. I must have written three different endings to this story, draft after draft, and after a lot debate and editing I chose this one. I said once that if I had changed one thing this story wouldn't be the type of story I wanted it to be, and if I had given them a happily ever after it would have ruined this story plain and simpe. That wasn't the message I was trying to send, and it just would not have fit after everything I had put these two characters through. The point of this installment was to show that not all problems can be fixed, but some can be and when you find the right person it is always worth it to try.

Anyway, that is all I'm going to say. I'm going to follow the lead from an author I have great respect for (I hope she doesn't mind) and say that I'm not going to defend this story any more than I already have, because I believe a story should be able to stand on its own.

Sorry folks, no sequel, no continutation. And *looks pointedly at Gina, Libby and 'Belle* I regret to inform you that I am hell bent on being a graduate of Brown Medical School this time next year. Sorry, girls.

I can tell you that I am hard at work on updates for both "Everything" (I know, don't fall over in shock or anything) and "Missing". You will see them all as soon life slows down a little bit.

Thank you all for everything,

June

Great story but the ending made me sad. Good job!!!!!

Oh, June! Oh, June! This fic just blows me away. I think one of the greatest dangers to a fanfic writers is cliche or predictibility (a tendency to repeat patterns found in most fics) that never seems to be a problem for you. Everything is so original and yet perfectly in character.
I especially love the idea of Chloe being unable to be emotionally available (hate this phrase but what else are you going use?) to Lex instead of the other way around. It makes perfect sense, though. Lex said once to Clark that love is about taking risks and on the show at least he has usually been quite willing to take them.
A lot of people have noted this particular (and undeniebly brillant) exchange, so I'll just say I love this line especially-

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by June

“And I really, really don’t like the way I am when I’m not with you,” Chloe lets out a breath she realized she hadn’t been holding in and tries her very best to not let the tears threatening to fall spill over.

---

Is there any great declaration of love than, "I like who I am when I'm with you"?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by June

His normal coolness is replaced with traces of anger and disappointment-- two things he never, ever let show. It bites at her skin and makes her heart ache.

“I’m enjoying something,” Lex says nothing for a long while, turns his eyes away and then speaks. His voice is tinged with pure surprise and a hint of irony. “I’m angry with you.”

“I’m angry with you,” he says in pure amazmenet. “I’m never angry with you, I never really get truly angry,” he turns his eyes towards her, and he can feel her arm next to his, and it surprises them both when he doesn’t reach for her hand. “This is a pretty big deal, Chloe.”

---

This just gets to the heart of Lex's personality to me- and their relationship. They make each other human in unexpected ways.

Also love this-

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by June

Follows him despite the fact that the Chloe Sullivan she used to be would never follow him. Anywhere. Would never follow anyone.

---

I really like this way of making an absolute and true statement about a character- something that says "this defines the character". So succinct, it gives me the chills.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by June

Make new memories in their minds to erase the old ones that can never measure up to this, right here, right now.

---

Beautiful. Beautiful.

Wow! Wow-we-WoW! I don't know whether to be completed inspired or depressed by the depth, and passion, and realism of this fic. Thank-you!

Even though it wasn't a "happy" ending it was still a very good fic.

:ecstatic: This was soooo powerful. Their emotions [and my emotions] were all over the place and it was a little exhausting to feel so much in so little time. I cried like an idiot. I was telling myself, '"Stop crying". It was great. Well done! ;)

Great story really great

Littlepearl

I was crying my eyes out reading this, it was so sad, and I really liked the ending, I think that a fluffy happy ever after ending would not have done this outstanding fic justice, the ending was perfect as was the rest of the fic!!!

Kimmie :grin3:

Awesome. Just awesome :)

This is heartbreakingly beautiful.

I really can't say much b/c Part III was like twisting the knife already imbedded in my heart, but I did want to respond a little.

My understanding of "how awful life can get, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor and her strawberry shampoo in his shower isn’t as scary as it used to be," removed my Lex from me, so I don't think I will ever be able to say more or even read this again, but what you have written is heartbreakingly beautiful.

This is stunningly beautiful.

just re-read it and its still great

I'd thought I'd left areply here already, guess not. Well I enjoy'd the story, was very angsty though.




): )

i have just read part i. but part ii is missing. can someone give a different link for the missing part if there is one.

i'm confused too, is there a part 2 or is it one of those artsy missing number things? this was very angsty and kinda a downer and i was disappointed with the smut. not that it was bad but i thought there should be more in a nc17 fic. maybe it was all in part 2 or maybe you should move this to a different section. but good job with the deep thoughts, now i need to read some smut to recover from the angst.

I loved this story - though I did miss part II.

A complete rollercoaster ride of emotions. Thank you so much for such a well written story. :grin3:

beautifully written! loved it! :)

That was amazing! Dark but realistic! Great ending!