The Sunflower Journal (PG-R)

[Blackberry]

Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or Rurouni Kenshin. This story is for fun's sake. No money was made by creating and posting this...

Summary: What happens with Chloe, Lex, Remy and Shishio's plans to destroy both the Luthor and Shinomori families, thus toppling down his arch-enemy, Himura Kenshin.

A/N: Reposting the chapters.... *sigh* stressed right now... getting books and going to orientations... ugh... working around campus... if i don't lose weight from all this.... *sigh* I can't think properly...



The Sunflower Journal

The best intentions are often fraught with disappointment. – Grissom (CSI)

1 The Silent Man

Lex sat in the backseat of the limousine as it pulled away from the mansion

(of shattered dreams)

his eyes trained straight ahead and out the windshield. It was night and starless; a light rain was showering down distorting the road ahead. He was dressed formally for a ball – wearing a clean cut tuxedo over his hard body – that was being held in the grand Met Hotel. He had consented to help with the country’s deteriorating security by creating a weapon of great power that was to be operated by the country’s armed forces. This had been the first project he had funded since his one month vacation, relieving and preventing the public to further speculate on his sudden leave.

That night, Lex had originally come from his penthouse, but he had told his driver he wanted to stop by the mansion. His employee did as he was told with no outward reaction to the request. They spent approximately ten minutes in the estate, with the bald Luthor standing at the main entrance staring at the handle. It was there that the rain began to sprinkle down. By the time he got back to the limousine, his face and the shoulders of the black trench coat he had put over his tuxedo was wet. They left afterwards, his face stoic and void of emotion. He had patted the water from his head, the sparkling drops gone from his pale skin; little tributes to his loss, soaked up by manufactured soft tissue. This man desired no sympathy from anything – this man with a stone heart and great wit.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, with just the pattering of rain and the engine of the vehicle whirring through the air. They soon slowed and the flashing lights began to get brighter. Something skittered across his heart – once; twice; three times – a spider, spinning a little web; slowly, very slowly. Swallowing calmly, Lex turned his head to the door as it clicked open and the flashing lights suddenly invaded his wake. In a business-like manner, he stepped out and looked around with his trademark smirk plastered on his face. The reporters screamed out questions and the photographers and cameramen took shots of him from where they stood; shots of

(what you look like when you lose something special that the world didn’t know you had)

the ever so famous Alexander Luthor, tycoon businessman and richest man in the country. Lex began to inch his way down the red carpeted way, shaking hands with old business acquaintances and stopping at times to get a shot with these other important military men and women. Once inside he made his way to the area where he would do the grand unveiling. Reporters were already inside, waiting to see what he would present while the more elite mingled, only slightly curious as to what Lex would show. Upon his stepping onstage, the twittering about the room faded to nothing as they focused their full attention to the magnanimous man before them. The bald billionaire before them stood with his arrogant manner.

“For just over half a year,” he began in a sure voice, “I have had a team of scientists creating a weapon that the world has never seen before; a weapon so powerful that those opposing us will have no choice but surrender just at the sight of it. Well, this quest for the most potent machine has been a successful one.” With his smirk back on his face once again he moved back and took hold of a decorated rope. “Now, without further ado, I present to you the military’s saviour!”

Lex pulled the rope and pulled back the curtains revealing his destructive toy. He watched the crowd haughtily as they all gasped at awe and brought their eyes upwards. “This,” he went on with great flair, “is Machina 707 or as I like to call it Thanatos.”

“What is it capable of doing, Mr. Luthor?” someone asked in a squeaky voice.

He in turn chuckled a bit and shook his head before indicating key parts with the smooth gesture of his right hand. “Well, it’s got a large gun of its own as you see right there, that can shoot at an average of thirty bullets per second. It also has back up tracking missiles, flame-throwers for both mechanical hands to handle, and a wealthy share of H-Bombs. We moulded its body with a metal that cannot be penetrated once out of its liquid form. In other words, these babies are unstoppable. They are, in all senses, our puppets and harbingers of death.”

“Mr. Luthor,” a new, confident voice called out, causing his head to snap towards the sound and narrow his eyes almost menacingly. “Wouldn’t these prove to be fatal should they fall in the wrong hands?”

Lex didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at this reporter and her partner with a hard unflinching gaze. Then he smiled a bit. “Then the US will have to make sure they don’t fall into the ‘wrong hands’, now isn’t that right?”

The interview session was swiftly cut off by the sound of concrete being blasted away and the crumbling of the wall and ceiling just by the stage. Women screamed in horror; men yelled in fear. Everyone scrambled away from the area, still watching as helicopters hovered in their newly-made entrance. Other guests, however, became more preoccupied with other affected areas of the room. The reporter who had just posed her question tripped over a fallen piece of concrete and looked up to find that a cement column was tipping over and would eventually crush her. All she could do was see this heavy object come towards her until she finally closed her teary eyes, expecting death a second away.

But nothing changed. She opened her eyes slowly and found that the cement column was just hovering a foot away from her body. Someone groaned and the cement column moved and was thrown to a far corner that the others had abandoned. Even as the intruders came in and stole the new military weapon and left, the reporter switched her disbelieving eyes from where the column landed with a reverberating thump to the one responsible for saving her. She caught blue, yellow and red

(ridiculous-looking)

outfit and most prominent, the large ‘S’ upon his chest. Then he was flying – out through the gaping hole left by the thieves and disappeared in the sky. And all the people could think was there was an angel on their side.

~~ o0o ~~

[Alexander Luthor]

The silence coupled with the darkness is a beautiful companion. Conversation is done without straining the vocal chords or moving the muscles. All you have to do is just sit there and stare into the seemingly endless black. Some people cannot appreciate this solitude – find that it is unnerving and uncomfortable. I on the other hand find it comforting. I have time to think – or drain out my thoughts from my mind. In darkness’s embrace I cannot tell one object from the next and there is a sense of unity.

Tonight, however, I allow a bit of light to line the room with its undesirable presence. After all, I have a very special guest coming and I cannot speak with him without a distinct notion of where he is. He may very well stab my back. And as much as death is a welcome visitor, I have yet to give my share to the world – my gift to those who are living as life have given me such an unforgettable gift in return.

My guest… the man who is plastered on the front page of the Daily Planet – as with the rest of the existing newspapers for his heroic actions yesterday… the man who foiled my plans to hurt more people than had been in the process of Thanatos being stolen… he has covered himself in the triumphant veils of red, yellow and blue, standing tall for ‘justice and all that is good.’ Hear me snort derisively, you fool. And of course he can – he with his super-human powers and skills.

Almost as if in answer, the glass door to the terrace slides open, allowing a gust of wind to blow in with his coming. The moonlight is dull tonight – the nights have always been dull after she – after he – after they all… well, he is a faint silhouette in the dim light, his cape fluttering with the shifting air.

He reeks of righteousness. I saw him yesterday in the crowd – the stench of what he stood for emanating from him in heavy waves it almost made me sick. At least I got to see his outraged expression when the men I hired came crashing through the wall. Oh, the utter joy of seeing all of them scramble! I felt a bit of heaviness lift from my tired shoulders at that moment of utter chaos as I left these unfortunate souls to their supposed doom. But he put the weight back again – only it seemed heavier when I realized exactly what he had prevented… my contentment in their fear and suffering.

I am faintly aware of my nails digging into the palms of my hand as I watch him approach. I see his eyes – windows to an entirely new universe of peace and contentment – and I silently curse him; he who is responsible for my gift from life. I feel a smirk suddenly spring upon my lips. He made me the way I am now – not my father, not my mother… not that insipid brother of mine… this man before me named…

“Clark Kent.” I say his name with biting precision. “Or maybe I should call you Superman? Or perhaps you’d rather I call you Man of Steel? After all, that’s how the world perceives you…”

I watch in delight as his jaw clenches in irritation. “Luthor,” he greets through gritted teeth, causing me to laugh. The sound is like aged bamboo in the room.

I move my arms so that they are folded over my chest. “Only you, Clark… come now, I thought we were friends? After all, our friendship is the stuff of legends.”

“I didn’t come here to verbally spar with you,” he said, failing to smile at my remark. He lifts his chin indignantly instead and mirrors my movement with his own arms. “I came to give you something that may be of great value to you.”

~~ o0o ~~

[Kal-el]

I’m glad I chose to fly here. Lex always had a way of unnerving people and at this moment, with that wild look in his eyes, he’s gotten to me. His look is piercing now and it takes all of my new-found confidence not to squirm like a baby. The object in question resides behind me secured to my body by my belt. He’s curious about it, of that much I am sure, but he doesn’t trust me. He hasn’t trusted me since… well, a long time ago, when I was weak and still learning to control my abilities. Quit avoiding the statement, Kal, the truth is that he hasn’t trusted you since you held him back while he watched his wife die in front of his eyes.

I purse my lips and stare straight at this man before me. I see that he shifts his body to lean back and he lifts his head as if assessing what I just said. “And what would be of value to me?”

That’s my cue. I run my life like that – always in time to save the day. Reaching behind me I pull the object from its place and present it. It’s a hardbound book – entirely black save for a picture in the front. He sees it from its side and gives me a questioning look. “I received it yesterday – it came with a note that just said ‘give this to Lex for me.’” I pause as I recall the distinct scrawl upon the paper. I go closer and I watch as his eyes narrow suspiciously. He thinks that I’m out to kill him, but I’m not. I’m out to save those victims of crime. I gently place the book upon the surface of the table before turning away. Just before I leave I say, “Lex, it was from her.” There is no question of who she is… there is only one woman that we would acknowledge with each other. Only one woman existed between us.

Then I fly out, knowing full well that he’d want to be alone. As I dodge the buildings on my way home, I think back to the hardbound book – that black book with just one picture on it… a picture of a sunflower. I use my super-hearing to check up on Lex and hear the thump of a body falling to the ground and a raspy breath. I never looked inside – never even dared to take a close look at what had been scrawled on the pages of the book… but I know what it is. With a heavy heart I journey home, a sad little thought… or two for the man with all the money that one could only dream of – this lonely, broken man with the Sunflower Journal…

Chloe’s Journal.

[tbc]

[Blackberry]

Disclaimer: don't own it...

*was too lazy to post everything yesterday.... haha*




2 The Opening Page

“Have his movements changed at all?”

“No.”

“But it’s been six months since…”

“He witnessed a traumatizing event… he was too young to have to see such a brutal thing… it’s only natural that he acts this way…” A moment of silence. “Hey, at least he eats and drinks. It shows that he still has a will to live…”

“But… he just sits there all day at the window… staring out… it’s not healthy for a boy his age to do this…”

“You know, it actually seems like he’s waiting for something… did you notice how he has rarely taken his eye off the cherry tree?”

“That’s true. But if he’s waiting for the sakura to appear, he’ll waste the rest of his life away… that will never bloom… I was told that the tree has forgotten how… if that’s even possible.”

“You’d truly be surprised at the range of possibilities there are in the world…” Another lengthy pause. “Well, I just hope he gets out of this stupor before school starts.”

“But that’s in less than a month! And his state hasn’t changed since we arrived! How can you believe that –”

“I only hope for the best… that is all I can do.”

“I guess… ugh… but what about Kenshin? How is he…?”

Listless blue eyes were trained upon the cherry tree in the garden. The voices ebbed away with the soft padding of feet as the two individuals walked off. In the distance, a hollow, aged bamboo fell against a rock, releasing a stream of water that had accumulated in its hollow frame. The blue eyes never wavered from staring at the limbs of the cherry tree. Save for the occasional blink and the times he ate, he never took his eyes off that bare tree.

I can hear it cry silently at night; I see how it stands dignified in the light of every day. The others watch unaware of its sorrow; unaware of the beauty still trapped inside. The rain has done nothing to wash away its sadness; its pain. When will it end? When will it remember again? When?

The blue eyes closed for a moment before opening again, blank; devoid of emotion. Inside the tiny blue droplets poured down. Tears for the family he had loved so and been separated from by death and then space… Inside he reached for the warm, giving touch of a mother-sister and a father… only to capture nothing in the palm of his mind’s hand.

So he chose to wait – wait for the time when someone would reach back and clasp his small hand in theirs – wait for the time when the cherry blossoms would finally bloom on the tree in the yard… he would wait for his spring – no, their spring to return at last.

The bamboo fell against the rock once more, the sound echoing through the air and causing every cell in his body to quiver along with it.

~~ o0o ~~

[Alexander Luthor]

Is it possible for me to breathe? I can’t really say. The control I have on my organs have failed to work. My entire body is trembling on the ground; propped up by my locked arms as I stare at this object before my eyes. I smell her. Oh heavens above, I smell that beautiful scent of her. Her image flashes through my mind with great vividness that I feel the tears stinging my eyes. This wall of anger and vengeance that I have built up during my six months alone is quickly deteriorating. But this is hers! This is her journal! With one shaking hand I move to touch it. I almost cannot believe it is there. But then there is that sunflower – bright yellows and deep brown against a captivating black void. The quick scrawl of her name – her beautiful, sunny name – is there; just barely visible. Even in the dim light I can see its stark presence. Or perhaps I am just hallucinating.

My body scrambles up again; hands fumbling – God, I’m fumbling! – for the light switch of a lamp upon my desk. I finally get one to spring to life – the electricity humming; sending waves of heat through the air so that I can barely feel it. My stomach feels like excreting all of its contents (not that there’s much anyway) as I turn back to where I left – my love, my life, my everything – her book.

And my knees grow weak when I see it is not just an illusion. My whole body feels like collapsing at the site – just as my heart is crumbling inside me. A gust of wind flies in through the open terrace door sweeping along with it the dust that covers my soul. One shaky step at a time – closer and closer to this heaven-sent, torturous object upon the floor. Falling once again to my knees I close my eyes and drink in the aroma of the book – her book before I open my eyes once again.

Do I dare touch it again? Do I dare to open it at all? Yes; no; yes; no! The whimper slips out on its own – offending my companions; the silence and pride. Once again I move a hand to take hold of it. With a light hand, I trace the sides of it and my chin shakes. Then, with my weight upon my lower half, I use both hands to gently pick the book up once again. The sunflower – a beautiful agglomeration of yellow, deep crimsons and browns – becomes stark against the black. I cannot help myself any longer. I press the book against my chest and hold it tightly there.

And in the comfort of my rocking I sit upon the floor with the last piece of beauty she has left on this earth for me to keep. I’m not sure how long I stay there – all I know is that by the time I stop my forwards and backwards motion, my lower half is numb. But I pay no attention to it. My entire being is focused upon this wondrous book in my hand. With my thumb I lift the cover from the pages inside – little treasures that are worth more than all the money in the world – and see the precise lettering of a computerized font upon the stark white. Somewhere in my mind I hear a small crack and I twitch.

Foreword

We knew it was coming. It was written somewhere up there – along with the stars – a statement claiming it would happen.

By now, I’m long gone from your side; gone from the grasp of the little one that you had first regarded as your curse, but transformed in your eyes into something beautiful: our blessing. I gave you time to evaluate on your own. I only hope that you have not succumbed to the darkness that has been your second calling – the path of your ultimate destruction. If you have… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I had to leave you and your wonderful son; my brother; our blessings behind.

I know that I can’t change time – I can’t change what has occurred in the past. But I can change or strengthen your views in life by what I leave behind. So I leave you with this book – my journal. I started it when my father passed away as it was a place where I could store what I felt. I changed its purpose to recording in as much detail as possible of every important event that happened when I realized the limited time we had left together.

I just ask one thing of you: remember that I love you, Alexander Luthor, with my entire entity. I love Jeremy Sullivan-Luthor with just as much intensity but in a different way, of course. Remember the happiness we all shared together and forget the sorrows and sufferings we faced. The things that matter most are what make us smile and glow with joy inside. That is all I ask for.

With all my heart,

C. S.-L.

~~ o0o ~~

He stared at the page with unblinking eyes – dry eyes, unable to shed a single drop of sorrow. There was no sense of time in him – just the page; that single page that held everything and nothing at all. The sheets that followed contained Chloe’s essence; her mind, a glimpse of her spirit…

He moved when a sliver of sunlight slid close to him on the floor. This time around he was steadier; surer.

(but the walls of the dam were cracking – slowly but surely)

With the book held tightly against his chest he walked towards his bedroom, a strangely vacant expression upon his face. Shutting the door behind him with a definitive click, he slipped into the bed with black silk coverings. Lex shifted his body until he was curled into himself. The book was close to his bent head. Eyes – blinded by the light of loss – closed; the images came fast through his mind’s eye; her cheerful grin, her irritated looks, her wanton gaze. Now she was holding up her wrist for him to smell.

It’s called ‘Sunflower’, Lex. Don’t you just love the way it smells? Her voice rang so clearly that the dam’s fissures grew larger and the water began to seep through.

“I love it,” he murmured, not caring that his voice cracked; not caring that there was no one to hear him. “I love you…”

His throat closed and the dam inside him burst – freeing the torrents and waves he’d kept barraged in for so long. In a sob, Lex uttered her name for the first time in six months. His friend, his partner, his lover, his wife… “Chloe.”

Across the sea, a pair of solemn blue eyes opened from a dreamless night and slowly moved to watch the cherry tree in the yard. He noticed it was hunched lower than before – its state of grandeur less prominent even in the dull sunlight of autumn.

Remy’s breath hitched slightly at the sight. A heightened sense of loss – I feel it, cherry tree. But shall you remember who I am? Do you still remember me? Quietly, he continued to watch, his determination intensified. The sound of the bamboo on the rock was heightened now in the lonely forest of his thoughts.

It was all just beginning…

3 Old Wounds

He heard her run – heard the fearful footfalls echoing through the endless hallways. He stood in a single shaft of light and tried with all his might to find her. The cackling grew louder then softer, her whimpers tearing at his heart as he listened. Desperately he turned, searching for a sign of some sort – showing him the way to where she was. And there it was: a dim spark in the distance before him, moving slowly. He cried out for her – but he knew she would not hear him – would not be able to hear anything above her terror.

So he ran; ran towards her – always towards her and her light – following the cackles and fearful footfalls. He in turn was chased by darkness – a looming darkness that never left him alone. And just when he thought he would never reach her, he turned a corner and found her huddled against a door, desperately trying to claw it open. He knew she sensed some of his presence – only she had mistaken it for whatever evil had been following her and shuddered in fear. He reached out to her and upon touching her flesh – her hand that was placed on the doorknob, he felt a shiver run through him and the cackling disappeared. She never turned to him, but allowed him to guide their hands to open the door.

The light that came streaming through the new opening was blinding, but a strange, new warmth entered his body – intoxicating him and making all the more aware of the woman with him. Almost entranced, he found himself faced with an endless field of beautiful sunflowers swaying gently in the breeze. Letting go of the doorknob but keeping the woman’s hand in his firm grasp, he led the both of them through the opening and into this wonderfully scented sea of yellow and brown. This vast field sloped gently upwards and at the peak, he and the woman with him stood together, basking in the beauty around him.

But even as he focused on his environment, he began to become all too aware of the woman with him. Unable to help himself he twisted her around to face him, closing his eyes before he got a glimpse of her face. He touched his lips onto hers – lightly at first, as if asking if she didn’t mind and then with more fervour, plunging his tongue into her orifice and tilting his head to intensify the kiss they shared. Someone moaned in arousal – who it was, neither could tell – and he began to slide his hand up her arms to plunge his hands into her soft tresses.

When his hand reached the hairline, he felt her slump against him, her mouth stop battling with his. He pulled back and found himself staring at a decomposing corpse in an old and decaying yellow dress. Horrified, he pushed it away from him and found that all the sunflowers were wilting and rising beneath them was a vast pile of human bones. In the distance, thunder rumbled threateningly, causing him to look above him. Clouds were quickly formulating above him. He felt a drop upon his head and brought a gloved hand to touch it. As he brought his arm down, he noticed that what was raining down upon him was blood. Oddly enough, he felt himself become just as intoxicated with this downpour as he had with the field of sunflowers.

He lifted his hands and welcomed the droplets upon him. A slight tug upon his pant leg brought his attention back to the pile below him and he saw the decomposing body of the woman he had just saved and kissed was staring up at him almost pleadingly.

“Help me,” she said in a faint but diamond voice. “please…”

His eyes widened and he reached out for her but she was slowly sinking into the sea of bones. Her body was re-establishing itself and she was sinking lower and lower; just like the volume of her voice… “Please… help me…”

“CHLOE!”

Lex howled her name as he reached out fervently into the darkness of the bedroom. With heaving breaths and fresh tears pouring from his eyes, he shot his gaze about disoriented for a moment before he realized it was all just a dream. As his panting slowed to normal inhales and exhales, he fell back onto the bed’s soft embrace. He didn’t want this. He’d thought he had gotten over the pain of the beauty he had lost. But there it was again – just as intense; or perhaps even more so than it had been the first time he had experienced it. With a dejected look at the book placed beside his body, he pushed the object away from him, causing it to slide across the silk and fall onto the floor. And as it hit the floor with a loud clatter, the spider began to skitter across his heart again – the spun web grasping its prey like a vice.

~~ o0o ~~

[Kal-el]

Sitting at my work desk at the Daily Planet, I go over events that have happened – things that have changed my goals and ambitions… and caused me to drop friendships along the way.

Thoughts of a small-town girl I had loved for so long causes a fresh helping of bile to rise from my throat. Oh how the world can corrupt beauty is a terrible thing to witness… and yet she could have prevented this slow weathering; could have stopped the corrosion of the natural beauty she barely grasped… but she was never strong enough. In the years I had known her she was always searching for someone’s help even when she was trying to do it all on her own. And then when she was finally given the chance to prove her independence and her capabilities, it transformed into a way to show that she was weak and defenceless. And she died the same way… no wait, add in insane, selfish and vengeful to the list as well.

It’s a wonder I was blinded for so long by such a weak spirit when there was someone clearly more worthy of my attentions – but who had come slightly – or rather far later than everyone else. Old friends have teased my about the old ‘Lex Luthor’ complex I seem to have – as the woman I have come to care greatly for – even more so than

(weak, defenceless, insane, selfish and vengeful)

Lana Lang – had a brown mane. But they forget about the flaxen-haired one; the one that had been so willing to walk through fire for us, her friends because we were who she had and she cherished us even when we didn’t return the sentiment as equally… the similar spirit of Chloe Sullivan lives now in Lois Lane.

I heave a weighty sigh and lean back on my chair, only to topple backwards quite ungracefully and fall straight onto the ground. I hear the snickers around me and know that this was no accident. Getting up as dignified as I can I smile at the crowd, push my useless glasses up the bridge of my nose before picking up the remains of my chair. Lois comes up behind me and clucks disappointedly.

“You’re just so damn easy to pick on, Kent,” she berated as she shook her head. “It’s a wonder you’re still willing to come here every day with the stunts they keep pulling for their own kicks.”

I smile to myself as I lift the pieces from the ground and bring it to the large garbage nearby. No, I don’t like Lois by her looks… those are just perks. Her gung-ho attitude, so like her cousin’s is what ultimately got me. Perhaps I was in love with Chloe all these years… but, no, that’s not true. Chloe was a friend – a good and always loyal friend, even when I doubted her – but that’s how she stayed.

Past tense… it’s strange to have her actions dubbed as in the time before because it doesn’t feel right… seeing her there as she fell to the floor didn’t feel right. Seeing Lana with her sword and wild brown eyes made more sense than Chloe’s passing. There was something odd about it – but that was her pale face staring sightlessly at the ceiling with her dull hazel gaze; those were her dry and cracked lips slack and hanging open; that was her limp dirty blonde hair fanned around her face… I saw it.

“Kent? Hey, Clark!” Lois’s impatient voice snapped me out of whatever stupor I was in.

With my usual confused gaze I turn my gaze to her, wondering what it is that has her so worked up. She’s always like that with me – always spouting about how slow I am to react or how I’m so thick-headed; Anything to prevent her from connecting me to the sure, level-headed saviour of Metropolis, Superman. Now, however, I note that there’s something edgier to her; like there’s something weighing on her. I quickly drop the stuff in my hand inside the bin and turn fully to her. She knows I’m concerned. As Clark Kent, I make it a point to show as much as possible without giving away my alter ego.

“I need to speak with you privately, Kent,” she said in a low murmur gazing at him with hard brown eyes. “It’s really important…”

Cocking my head to the side, I frown in further confusion. “Okay…” I draw out the word, knowing it would sound out my uncertainty. “What do you want to talk about?”

I see her gaze waver then – see the telltale quiver of her chin but she purses her lips in confidence. “My cousin,” she answers in a strained tone.

I look at her for a moment – my thoughts coming to a screeching stop. We never talked about it… not in the few months we reacquainted ourselves to one another. Then I heave that great weighty sigh I had just moments before.

(You knew it was coming – that impending, dark train in the distance – only now it’s at the station and ready to unload its passengers – each one carrying a heavy load.)

“Very well,” I concede before glancing at my watch. “This will take a while, though… we’ll talk after working hours at the deli just down the street, okay?”

She nods her head in a very curt manner then leaves. I watch as she disappears around the corner. It is later when we are seated before each other silently looking at our drinks that I feel contained and trapped. I didn’t think about what I would say – just that I would say something; something to ease that painful curiosity as to why her cousin suddenly disappeared and showed up one day in a graveyard with a tombstone six feet above her. I know that she probably blames Lex for the Loss, but she’s got it all wrong – he, too, feels the Loss just as intensely or even more so that it causes him to avoid it and hide behind his new misdeeds and bad business choices.

“You know, you’d think that when someone dies, that should be it,” Lois suddenly says in a low voice.

No one else hears this but me.

“She, on the other hand, defies all the natural laws and ends up alive after the explosion of that safe house… only to die again for reasons beyond me.” She looks at me then her eyes piercing. “You know some of what happened to her, Clark. And I need to fill in the blanks – I need to know if she’s really gone or if it’s some damn scheme again. I need to know who the villain is in her story.”

It’s hard for me to look at her now but I keep my eyes on her slowly twisting her words around in her head weighing them and the voice that she says it in. She’s out for answers. That’s all. And I know that I must give it to her before she digs up the dangerous ground I tread upon; before she can find information that could lead her to discovering who I am – who I hide from the world that isn’t satisfied by a seemingly one-dimensional hero. I lean back in my chair and push the glasses up the bridge of my nose before gazing down at my cup of green tea.

“I won’t allow you to publish anything I say about him,” I warn her. She knows who I’m talking about. There is no need to say names.

Her eyebrows shoot up in incredulity. “Why the hell would I –”

“Because where he’s involved you’re always ready to jump to the conclusion that he’s the bad guy when actually he’s not,” I interrupt in a low voice bringing my hard gaze up to hers.

“I saw her tombstone with his damn name on it!” she whispers fiercely leaning close to me. “How is it that he always ends up living and she has to turn out dead? If he had nothing to do with her death –”

“He didn’t murder her,” I shoot back in a fervent, but hushed murmur. I feel my irritation rise at her stubbornness and her rather narrow view on my old friend. Chloe never did that; she always kept her options open. “Look, would just shut up and listen to what I have to say or would you rather I leave you hanging with nothing but what you’ve got right now?”

It’s the first time I’ve actually done anything so aggressive – and that is strange and new to her when she thinks of Clark Kent… I’m sure of that. Her open mouth closes before she slumps back looking like a girl who was denied any ice cream for dessert. A grumbled ‘fine’ is all I need before I sip my drink then launch into the story of what came to pass between the Shinomoris’, Luthors’ and Shishio’s entourage.

4 Acceptance

Lex watched the world around him – all striking colours that jumped out at him, burning into his irises so that when he happened to close his eyes the image would still be just as stark and real in front of him. That was before it faded into an image of Her face – soft hazel eyes that smiled all on its own, an equally tender mouth that lifted at the sides as She looked at him; watched him with amusement and love.

The delicately spun web snapped in several places and the spider moved swiftly to tend to the damage.

He opened his eyes again, the renewed pain of his Loss weighing upon the grey depths; causing his eyelids to sag noticeably. No one said a thing – for fear of his wrath – kept going on with work, feeling the gravity of his presence more than usual as he passed by them. It wasn’t that he didn’t portray a steady and sure businessman – he never faltered in that.

But for the past week, there was a darker aura about him – the way he never smirked anymore and the quick strides that told he was avoiding anyone and everyone. It was evident in the way he would shut himself in his office the whole day, speaking to people only through the intercom or through his phone. Yes his demeanour was different and heavier, but what was it that changed him to being so reclusive? This is what the employees wondered.

But they never asked.

So they never found out… they never found out that he hadn’t slept for seven days. They never found out that he was burying himself in his work. They never found out that he was suffering quietly inside the growing void that was close to overtaking his entire being. They never found out about his Loss because he avoided it like the incurable disease that slowly ate away the soul until all that was left was an empty vessel.

They never found out that this incurable disease that consumed a person from the inside was already residing him, gnawing slowly but surely.

As he watched the world through tinted windows his insides churned. It was from starvation… not physical starvation – he’d had enough to eat since he had started boycotting sleep. This starvation ran deeper… as the worm in his mind ate away at him – feasting and he in turn did nothing to stop it. Anything but having to face that journal again… her journal…

And yet to fight it only meant heightening the awareness of its presence; everywhere he went he was haunted by her image and the sunflower laid out on a hard black that looked ready to consume it wholly. And with it came the remembrance of the dream he sought to forget; with the mountain of decayed corpses, the rain of blood and his love being consumed by death.

His hand twitched at his side and a voice whispered across his mind telling him of amber liquid solace. Drown in it, the voice coaxed. He could almost see the beckoning hands in the darkness of his rambling thoughts; see the clear glass container with his Solace.

But that wasn’t the one he wanted. He wanted what he’d lost when she went away… he even left at her passing… mostly to his insistence. His failure to protect one of those he loved made him believe he was incapable of protecting anyone… which is why he sent the small package of safe Solace he had left in the world far, far away from him… because everything he cared about was destroyed; a curse passed on to each Luthor generation. Oh he ached to see the boy again – hold him close to fend off the unbearable hurting; to ease the weight from his shoulders… but he could not… would not risk it.

And so he stood there in his office before the tinted windows, overlooking the bustling city that burned his eyes, while his hand twitched for the easy Solace that he refused himself to have. Thoughts marched through his head with loud precise steps – one, two, one, two – thoughts of her, him, and the black journal with a bright yellow flower on the front.

The spider scuttled about desperately trying to revive its web – its tight hold around his heart… but the strings snapped as the heart swelled beyond the web’s abilities. The spider’s work broke, releasing its firm grip of the heart and falling in a soft whisper into the dark abyss.

Lex moved towards the intercom in an uncontrolled movement. “Cancel my meetings for the next few days.” He left no explanation after that, ignoring the string of protests that followed his wake as he grabbed his jacket and stalked out of the office towards the elevator. He threw a thoroughly icy look at his secretary who had opened her mouth to continue her objection to his sudden cancellation, swiftly muting her as she fearfully watched him storm away.

Once outside of the building, he got in his readied car and shot it down the road

(towards open wounds; wounds that had been scabbed over but the tops were ripped off revealing the unhealed tissue inside)

towards the penthouse. He was a Luthor for fuck’s sake… and Luthors confronted anything and everything head on… even when it tore their soul out in the process…

~~ o0o ~~

Kenshin stared at the shoji across from him, purple eyes blank and red-rimmed. His body was weak from not eating much at all the past half a year. Had it really been that long? The thought struck him as odd. It felt more like seven lifetimes at least. Somewhere along the way, Sano had taken him by the lapels of his shirt dragged him upwards until his feet barely touched the floor and shouted aimlessly at him. He caught nothing of what the spiky-haired man had said, too consumed in his thoughts – thoughts of Kaoru, her smile, her life and her untimely death.

My fault… all my fault… I should never have met her; gotten close to her… that way she would still be alive and safe from people like Shishio and Enishi and the rest of my enemies…

His chin settled upon his chest and he gripped his sakabatou harder with his hands. He dared not close his eyes for too long for fear of picturing the wondrous woman he had come to care so much about… if only she had known before she died… if only she had known how much he cared about her… how he had come to…

But he couldn’t… she was long gone; into the afterlife where her father and mother were… Oh if only he could have died along with her… if only…

Kenshin barely heard the muffled thump of sock-covered feet, but saw the shoji slide open. He didn’t bother to look up at the face. They came and went – spoke when they wanted to, but he rarely really listened; he who was too consumed by his grief; his never ending grief and guilt and pain…

A feminine hand slid a roll of paper towards him on the floor before taking two paperweights and spreading it completely open; placing the heavy weight on either side of the delicate piece. Bowing the woman stood and left, sliding the shoji shut behind her. His eyes blurred from rarely sleeping took time to adjust on the slip of paper on the ground, but when it focused, he felt his insides twist agonizingly. It was Kaoru’s style of writing… his grip upon his sakabatou loosened and he leaned forward, falling heavily onto his free outstretched arms. The sword clattered loudly to the ground but his ears were filled with a strange buzz. His upper limbs buckled slightly under the weight of his body, but they stayed locked so that he could read the message scripted upon the paper.

This is my late, but last goodbye. I was given just so much time to make this for you… I’m sorry to leave you and everyone else. Aoshi-san, Yahiko-chan, I love you both, my dear brothers; I will love you forever. Oka-san and Oto-san will always look down from the heavens… I, too, will look out for you.

Ken-san… I’m sorry we had so little time together… I – I care about you very, very much… sometimes it hurts… but it’s a good hurting.

I beg you to please keep living… for me, for the ones you love or care for… for what you stand for because… dying isn’t the challenge of life, Ken-san… trying to live is… and you never just back down from a challenge unless there is no other choice… and you have a choice now…

I miss you so much… I will see you.

In your hearts for all time,

Shinomori Kaoru.

All Kenshin could do was drown in her words at that moment… but something niggled in the back of his mind silently… but he didn’t notice it for the cry of his sorrow was louder than the cry of his logical one…

~~ o0o ~~

[Alexander Luthor]

It sits there innocent as a newborn child – heavy with responsibility and deep-rooted sentiment that only the one that helped create it can feel. My hand twitches again. The voice in my head whispers coaxingly in my mind’s ear. Drown in it. Amber liquid that burns my throat then spreads its warmth throughout my body once downed. But I can’t. I must honour every promise that I made for her – anything to compensate for the broken one.

My eyes are trained upon it – still where I left it a week before – as I walk unsteadily towards it. My feet feel heavy but I force them to move. Luthors face their problems head on, I remind myself as I grit my teeth. Once I am just a step away from it I bend over slowly, swaying slightly then grab it before pushing myself up and seating myself on the softness of the mattress. The lamp I had turned on is dim but sufficient for me to see this torturous treasure in my hand.

So many thoughts and images engulf me that it is difficult to push them away and lock them in the basement of the back of my mind. It takes several long breaths to accomplish this but soon they are gone from overcrowding me and all I am left with is the lone drop of blue liquid inside my head. I can never get rid of it no matter how hard I try to prevent it; it is there – that sign of my sorrow – our sorrow; Remy’s and mine… at our Loss.

I call upon the spider to bury my heart in its web and then open the Sunflower Journal to a random (precious) page.

~~ o0o ~~

[C. S.-L.]

November 21

Still feeling my heart pound inside my ribcage. I can’t believe that I never experienced such a thing before. But I’m glad I didn’t… glad that I saved myself for someone so beautiful inside and out to show me such wonders. Lex was shocked when I told him I’d never done it before, but once he got over that initial reaction… ah, heaven! It was utter heaven... now I know why so many women want him. Forget the money…

The whole night was reserved for exploration… and pleasure… oh, yes, endless pleasure! If only words could describe what it felt like; the stars that flitted in my eyes as he laid kisses all over me; the explosions inside as his fingers slid inside me… and then there’s that lovely… erection… of his… I don’t think anyone will fill me as completely as he has… and I don’t think I’ll allow myself to try anyone else. I know I have the best. And I’m not going to let go of it. No, I’m not… not ever.

Lex is out of the bathroom now I better end this before he notices that I’m writing about –

~~ o0o ~~

Lex knew what happened when the journal entry was cut off. He had seen her seated at his desk, writing furiously on the paper with a blush upon her cheeks with the blanket covering her front but leaving her back and part of her rear shamelessly displayed. He had swept her up into his arms, cutting off her protests with an almost desperate open-mouthed kiss, which they both drowned in. He had promptly stumbled towards the bed where they made love frantically. Something had snapped inside him when he had seen her – a strange thought that made him panic – that made him reckless; that made him lose so much control. He proceeded to show her the raw passion that only she could unleash inside him; this wild beast that had finally been released and roared its satisfaction as he climaxed with her in a final deep-penetrating thrust.

Inside, a stream of blue liquid fell in a growing puddle and in the distance the sound of a pounding against the basement door echoed.

Remy – who stared at the cherry tree with his solemn blue eyes; who resided in a land surrounded by a crystalline blue sea; who lived in a world filled with the Loss – was banging on the barrier with his mind’s fist, reaching desperately for the doorknob that was too high up and the hands that would in turn clasp is own.

5 Her Story

[C. S.-L.] (Lex flipped to another entry…)

November 28

Lex tinted the windows to one of his cars today. He wants to drive me to school – though I told him it was too much of a hassle for him – when I have class. He, being brought up like a Luthor, had insisted (and didn’t stop insisting) on bringing me and just so that we wouldn’t be under the close eye of the press, he brought up the option of adding tint to the windows… That’s what I lo – like about him; even though he’s so damn stubborn, he finds a way to make both parties win.

Remy has asked if he, too, could come and drop me off, so on certain days, when Lex has time and it’s not too early for Remy, we will all drive together to Met University and I’ll get dropped off by my boys… hmm… what good did I do in my past to deserve such wonderful people?

I think I’ll go check on Remy… and then on Lex… my boys…


December 16

It is nine days until Christmas. Lex has been gone on a business-trip in Paris for the past week. Remy is anxious for him to come back and makes it a point to voice his sentiments when his father calls… which is basically every morning and evening. I never say anything, but I know my voice carries the same wishes as the young boy… Lex promises that he’ll be back in time for Christmas Eve. He never said when and I don’t bother asking as his tired voice prevents me from doing so.

For the meantime, it is just Misao, Remy and I along with the wonderful Luthor staff that I have befriended. We’re a merry bunch, making it a habit to play random games – sometimes with the cards, or Twister… hah; it was fun to have everyone joining in the fun. I wonder what Lex’s mother would think if they saw them goofing off like this…

Daddy would be rather amused by the situation… I’m sure he is laughing somewhere…

Edited to add:

Lex came back tonight. I was just sitting in the study listening to a George Gershwin CD, attempting to read “Obras Completas” by Gustavo Becquer when the track changed and “Home Blues” began to play. Again, words seem lacking in describing the joy and relief I felt when I heard Lex speak and I saw him there at the doorway holding the remote. Who cares if he looked haggard? He was home and he was damn happy about it… or at least I made sure of it… oh yeah… Right now he’s checking up on Remy and by the way that things are taking a while, the child’s probably wide awake now and glad that his daddy’s home.

The whole family is home for Christmas… and Lex told me that this would actually be the first holiday that he was sure he would enjoy…

But I can’t help but see a slightly hidden strain in his expression when he says it… as if he’s almost sure something would come along and ruin it. But I know that nothing will… That moment of pain… it isn’t on a holiday…

I know it is coming. I hear it in whispers as I dream of the field of sunflowers and the dark corridors; of the raining blood and mountain of corpses… I haven’t told Lex that I have been having that dream over and over again. Where I used to wake up fearful and cold, I only wake up with a deep feeling of sadness.

Ugh! Change of subject! No more tears or dark thoughts today. Lex is back and he’ll be here for Christmas and I’m making sure that he’ll also be here for New Year’s… though that may be asking for much from a businessman… we’ll see…

Lex is back and Remy’s with him… holding – ooh, my saviours; they brought a lovely cup of coffee and one mug of chocolate milk for Remy! (No height-stunting drinks for my little boy&#33 Long night ahead of us, I guess! Not a problem for me… not at all…

~~ o0o ~~

[Kal-El]

“I considered Chloe a good friend of mine – a best friend… but apparently my idea of a best friend was different than hers… and I have to admit that my version was way more warped than hers. I now regret the way I treated her – hell, most people would feel that way when they lose that particular thing that they’ve been mistreating… only now… I owe her a lot – for her loyalty, her strength of character and the belief that I was capable of being a good friend in return… I think she saw more than I was capable of at the time… I have many regrets when it comes to the relationship I had with Chloe… but let’s not go into that.

“The thing is that Chloe found out I was confiding mostly in Pete and – Lana – at the time and only went to her when I needed help getting information on whatever it was that was occupying me at the time. That was, in effect, the last straw. After all, I trusted people who weren’t even present in Smallville with my dilemmas – Pete was in Wichita with his mother because his parents were – well, having trouble in their marriage and… Lana… was in Paris – and she was always there, sticking up for me, seeing the good person I really wasn’t at the time. When we graduated, she stopped talking to me in total – didn’t even look at me when the graduation ceremony was over – or even when she was leaving for Metropolis.

“I knew that when she cut someone off like that, it was basically final, but I denied it for a long time, believing that I was still somehow on her good side and a friend of hers. But when I tried to speak to her or see her, I’d always miss her – in short, she was avoiding me. Being the dense idiot I was, I thought perhaps luck wasn’t on our side. So I left it to chance that we would meet.

“Two years – that’s how long it took before chance finally considered our situation. I was just supposed to help Lex with a problem – a particularly big problem that involved a gang that was out to kill him and those related to him. I went to his mansion, expecting to see a cold Luthor, but instead I come face to face with an angry Sullivan and a cold Luthor… double-edged knife really.

“There were two things that I found out that day – one was that I didn’t have a friend in Lex or Chloe anymore and another was that they had gotten into a relationship with one another. At first I was shocked. Then they kissed in front off me and I was basically furious… I felt as if they betrayed me… but I know now that was such selfish things to think… You don’t have to tell me that, Lois… I left the mansion that day with that mindset, though. I never really wanted to see them again… maybe if I was really drunk and not myself at all I’d be willing to see them, but in that mindset that I was in, I didn’t want to.

“As it turned out I ended up seeing her – a few months later and in clear-headed. I was just visiting Pete – he was still fine with me and transferred back to Metropolis for university… I – I didn’t know what happened to Lana after the first year… she just suddenly stopped communicating altogether… Anyway, I was there at his apartment, just talking to him about a few things when someone knocked on his door. Pete answered and it was Chloe… or Chloe, a little boy and another woman. I later found out that the boy was Lex’s son, Chloe’s adoptive brother and the nephew to the woman that accompanied the two.

“When I saw Chloe that time, there was something different about her already – she still had her usual zest for life and was still rather snarky about everything, but she was a lot more forgiving… it was a wonder, but she actually started talking to me as if I – as if nothing bad had happened between us. She surprised me further when she gave me a hug and a smile before she left.

“I can’t say that the other two – Remy (that’s Lex’s son by the way) and Misao (the boy’s aunt) – showed the same sentiments. They were actually very wary of me…” I shake my head and take a sip at my now cold drink. “I don’t blame them though. I did a few things that are worth… Sorry, going off course again.

“Well, that was the day that Chloe and I reconciled… sort of… it was the second week of December and Lex was in Paris dealing with business. After that, I didn’t see her until… until I found out that she was kidnapped over four months later by the people that I tried to warn them about… and at that time, they were just newlyweds and fresh from their honeymoon…”

~~ o0o ~~

He proposed in January – the twenty-first to be exact – when the rain fell quietly in the awakening day. Remy was wedged between them, deep in slumber and with a light smile upon his little face. Chloe, too, had been sleeping, but Lex’s light but insistent shake had woken her up. It was there, with the rain pattering lightly against the window and the family that mattered in his arms that he proposed to Chloe… In a state of shock, the blonde was presented with a beautiful but not too gaudy white gold and diamond ring and his very first ‘I love you’. Remy didn’t miss any of the action as he was jarred awake by Chloe’s sobs and the unaccustomed sound of his father’s close to hysterical laughter.

Remy pulled back from the hugs and cheer to see the two adults give a heartfelt kiss upon each other’s lips. The young child had grown used to the emotions that hadn’t been familiar to him before – this kind of love that was just as intense but different from that he shared with Lexie and Chloe. He had no reason to feel left out for he knew that he fit in the picture, too… after all, where would they be without him?

(Separate but happy and alive. Chloe would have become the person she wanted to be and Gabe would be alive and Lex would be safe from Shishio and monsters that were never satisfied until their target was absolutely ripped into small pieces. They would be separate, but happy and alive. Mommy would be alive and the family wouldn’t have fallen apart. Kaoru-san would have been here with Aoshi-san and Yahiko-san… Without you, that’s how they would have been.)

Remy’s blue eyes snapped open and he screamed and screamed – the sound ripping through the silent night like the katana that was driven into an innocent. “Iie!” A high-pitched, piercing cry filled with so much denial. “Iie!” He scrambled on all fours to the window and searched the cherry tree’s appearance desperately… panting he saw accusing limbs pointing menacingly at him but when he blinked, it was gone… all that was left was the slumped limbs of defeat and that same deep-seated sadness he had seen since he began watching it.

When Misao came in frantic fear for her nephew, she held him close to her body and felt the boy’s tears stain her silk robe… little tributes to his Loss… as well as Lexie’s. The woman held the boy; rocking them back and forth while the hollow bamboo hit the rock in a slow sad rhythm, releasing streams of blue liquid at each beat.

~~ o0o ~~

[C. S.-L.] (Last entry)

May 6

Beirut is beautiful – this place reconstructed from ruin; the architecture a reminder of what had been destroyed, but with new life generating through its buildings and streets. The crowds come out mostly at night and the lights and life never go out until the dawning sun comes up… the people are reluctant to leave, too consumed in the joy of being in the moment – being around so many exuberant faces; faces of old couples seated in the street cafes lining both sides of the stone-paved streets; faces of the young children on skates or on bicycles going round and round the clock at the centre of the city square.

How ironic that it would stand amongst all this life – this place which seems to float above all the harsh reality that hides within the reconstructed pillars. The timepiece – positioned where life in this city converges – seems to hold it all down and ground it; a constant reminder that they must go back to ploughing the fields, the business deals, the harsh realities of battling nations and the struggle to live. I wonder at times how they can keep going like this… and yet the manner in which they live seems balanced in some strange way.

It makes me wonder… and then understand… I share this kind of lifestyle they have; no matter what is ahead of me, I know that there has been a balance between harsh reality and blissful fantasy. This is my field of sunflowers and Lex is the man in white who saves me from the Voice…

God, I’m afraid for Lex… it is probably wrong, given that this is our honeymoon, but… I walked through the square with the joyous and loud crowd and that image of that clock haunts me still… how it reminds me of how limited of a time we have… and it reminds me of the rain of blood… rain of blood – rain – reign – reign of blood and death.

But I don’t want him to succumb to this… he must be like the ones who come here every night with the intention of enjoying whatever time they have, no matter what is to come in the light of morning… for they always have another chance for happiness and joy… but will he see that? Can he see that? The end is coming, but shall he see beyond this landmark and find the life in this devastation? Only time will tell… and I hope – God, I hope so much that he will…

~~ o0o ~~

But he didn’t; hasn’t. Six months since his Loss, he was still trapped in the harshness of life – night and day – trapped in the nightmare of the mountain of corpses and the

(reign)

rain of blood that marred his purity…

For a moment he blamed the boy that brought them together… but then again, Lex had started this cycle – of life… death… and life after this death… Only now he was stuck – stuck between death and the life after this death… he had only himself to blame – this man that destroyed everything; everything that destroyed this man. Back and forth it goes, in a small circle in the bigger cycle. Slipping under the black covers and closing the lamps – the clicks definitive – Lex gave up consciousness and finally slept with tear stains on his cheeks and eyes rimmed red.

[tbc]

[asharnanae]

:biggrin: good to re read it again, and I cant wait for the next Chappy. But agh, this is so sad! :crygreen: :worship2:

[autumngold]

Thank you for reposting!! I still really wish that Chloe wasn't dead though!! :crygreen: Hope you post more soon!! :chlexsign4:

[chril1]

i love this fic that last chapter was great

looking forward to more

love lea
xxx

[Blackberry]

heyyy sorry people í've been really busy with starting uni and moving in and i've been having problems with my internet in my room so.... i'll try to get some updates soon!! I really hope to... i just haven't found the brain power to get anything put down... -_-;

Very sorry again for such a long delay!!!!

BB

[AlabamaWorley]

I'll look forward to it

[Blackberry]

Okay, considering I haven't updated in such a freaking long time, here's a very short update for you guys... it's been slightly difficult to get properly inspire to write, but I'm starting to get back into the groove of things...

______________________________________________

6 The Coming of Mourning

(Six months earlier…)

[Shishio Makoto]

I hear the whirring of the airplane engines in the distance and a flashing light in the dawning day. The sun has touched some of the perimeter but I stand safe in the shadows of the present night with a smile upon my face. I glance at my young pupil, who shifts impatiently from one foot to the other and I widen one eye.

“You are not displaying the proper manner of a student under my tutelage,” I remark.

The shifting stops, but hard eyes – brown, wildly determined eyes – are trained at the distant plane making its way in. I, too, bring my gaze back to the skies where the flashing dot has transformed into a blob of sorts. My pupil’s destiny awaits. This causes me to smile – this special smile of satisfaction, although it is not my directly my personal triumph.

My hand snakes out to latch onto the supple waste of my woman and pull her towards me. Yumi – with her violet, intoxicating lips and lustrous eyes – slides her limbs against me, distracting me thoroughly. I wonder why I only met her just over four years ago – how I survived so long with a woman equally scheming as me is a wonder. I had stopped believing in blessings and angels, but she is my exception in all things. Apart from my fierce desire for revenge, I have an equally fervent need for her. It is like a never ending combustion of chemistry between us. I doubt there is another connection like ours.

As I think this, I trail a firm touch up and down her hip. I am a rage of desire now mixed with a great sense of satisfaction.

The whir of the airplane engine grows louder and the speck in the sky has grown to the definitive shape of the aircraft. The smile on my face only grows.

I see the clench of my pupil’s hands and feel a rumbling chuckle grow in my chest. Soon, my child, very, very soon you shall have your revenge… and it comes closer.

~~ o0o ~~

[Alexander Luthor]

Something shifts inside of me as we near the landing strip in Metropolis – a mountain that I had hoped would stay put for a longer period of time had moved so that the way was clear for passing.

(The way of our destinies)

My arm tightens unconsciously around the waist of my love, my life, my everything: Chloe, now a Luthor in name. Her body shifts in slumber but she doesn’t wake. Glancing down, I note that there is a small frown marring her smooth skin. I nuzzle her head lovingly, inhaling her scent – that wonderful sunflower scent; … don’t you just love the way it smells? She sighs in her sleep – an action that I was planning to do. I pull away far enough to see that the frown is replaced by a relaxed smile. How peaceful she looks…

I hear the chime of bells and I glance at the clock I had ordered to be within the cabin. 5:30 am, it says in big bold lettering. Morning is slowly making its way across our path and I suddenly feel a wave of panic. But it’s only morning – the dawn of a new day… but something clicks in my head – something that sounds like the locking of the door. But to what, I wonder… what is it that it bars me from?

I choose to ignore it, despite its insistent presence. The land below approaches at an alarmingly fast rate – but that is expected. Still, my free hand twitches on my lap – as if wanting to pick up the nearby intercom to tell the pilot to turn back – turn back to where reality didn’t meet their fantasy – where morning never comes.

But I stop the urge – stopped for I need to have my curse that has turned into my blessing – our blessing. Remy is waiting for his father and mother-sister to come and hold his hand once again.

The sound of many doors locking in a resounding click fills my head once again and I clench my jaws together.

~~ o0o ~~

The tip glinted silver and red.

~~ o0o ~~

[Jeremy Sullivan-Luthor]

Am I holding onto oba-san’s hand? Yes, it’s there. Soon I will hold Chloe’s and Lexie’s hands. They have big palms and fingers – they make me feel safe. Their arms are big, too. They can hold me and each other, too.

I can see them in the sky. I point to oba-san – ‘Look! There they are! I see them! I see them!’ – I smile and show my teeth. Oba-san smiles at me when I look at her instead of the airplane. I am happy – happy that they are coming. Closer and closer they come. I can hear the vroom of the airplane, but it is still quiet. The sun is coming now. The sun is coming out.

But why am I scared? There is something here. But I don’t know where it is. It’s a scary thing… who is it? Closer and closer Lexie and Chloe come.

The vroom of the airplane is louder and I get more scared. Who else is here? Who else? I’m looking around; looking and looking but I don’t see. I feel a scary happiness coming from somewhere – someone. Go away!

‘Go away!’ I scream at someone – no one at all.

~~ o0o ~~

Eyes wide and unseeing stared up at the ceiling.

~~ o0o ~~

Chloe was jarred awake by the airplane touching down upon the earth. Turning her head slightly, she eyed the clock. 5:45 am, it read in big bold letters. Lex’s hand around her waist began to rub the area it was in contact with and she looked up at him with a sleepy smile. He in turn smiled back and brushed his lips against her temple.

A small cocoon-like object took shape. Inside a baby spider began to form.

The airplane began to slow and soon they were readying to get off. Through the cabin window, the morning’s light shined, disabling the couple to see the airport and the people that waited for them.

(Cursed coming of morning… mourning…)

Although reluctant, the two got up, hands clasped tightly; bodies close to one another… Siamese twins, but not really. With every step closer to the exit, the stiffer they became. The hiss of the cabin doors bit into their ears and Chloe jumped slightly in reaction. As the door opened, light of morning flooded in, blinding them momentarily. A figure stepped in – an unidentifiable lithe silhouette of a figure.

The sound of their heartbeat thumped loudly in their ears. In the background, they heard Remy’s desperate scream – a cry like bamboo hitting against a rock, shattering the silence. No! No! Go away! Stay away from her! The person did not heed his pleas – rather the individual drank it in along with the look of disbelief written on Lex’s face.

Before the bald Luthor could voice out a protest, Chloe was wrenched out of his grip and he was upon the ground, unconscious from a blow to the head by the handle of a sword. When Chloe stared into the eyes of her captor, there was no trace of malice… just a deep sadness and a little smile.

“How have you been, Lana?” she lightly asked the other woman all in black.

~~ o0o ~~

Someone smiled. Another’s anguished cry rang out.



[to be continued...]

[asharnanae]

:huh: LANA!!!! what!!! OMG, come back hear right now, I wanna know more!!!!! Grat chappy!

[autumngold]

As much as I love your story, I hate it too because you kill Chloe!! :crygreen: So, so sad!! :crygreen: I wish things could be different!! :crygreen: You are such an excellent writer!! Please update soon!! :chlexsign4: