The Lesser of Two Evils
NC-17/ Angst
Disclaimer: Smallville, the characters therein, and all affiliated copyrighted materials are owned by the WB. This is a work of fanfiction not intended for profit or infringement, only for the pleasure of fans of the series.
Spoilers: All up to Season 4, except things will be twisted to the tune of Lex having never moved to Cowtown, U.S.A.
A/N: What would Chloe Sullivan have had to do to get from under Lionel Luthor’s thumb if Lex had never moved to Smallville? What would she have had to sacrifice to earn the son’s help against the father?
AU for Season 3 and 4, and strongly rated for a good reason:
THERE WILL BE BORDERLINE NON-CONSENSUAL SEX.
Chapter 20
She inspired a childish and inappropriate urge to stare, and he did for a long while. His eyes traced the rise and fall of breath as she nestled deeper into the leather and into what appeared to be the first good rest she’d had in days.
Lex knew she would be more comfortable in his bed where she could stretch out, but he was afraid to move her. It was unlikely that she would wake up and be upset but the experience seemed unsettling for him as well. Something about carrying her against his body, her head leaned on his chest as he cradled her weight and lowered her onto the sheets of his most personal space struck him as too much.
Which was an odd reaction in and of itself. He was usually very matter of fact about handling the young women who came to his bed. He’d certainly never been this reluctant to do something so simple before.
He compromised, bringing a light blanket out and draping it over Chloe. He thought about removing her boots, but couldn’t pull them off easily enough to avoid disturbing her.
He discovered his second problem when he tried to walk back to his office to get some work done. First his feet would only shuffle uselessly back and forth beside the chair, then when he coaxed them to move him his neck turned to look at her. His eyes lingered and his mind tried to think of other small tasks that might help her when she woke up. He ended up bringing in a pitcher of ice water and a tall glass for the coffee table, then laying out a platter of cheese, crackers and fruit.
The nurse said she should eat, he told himself. It was anyone’s guess how long it had been since her last good meal.
He tried to figure how much she weighed, squinting critically at her form under the blanket. She was slender and relatively petite but he thought she might have lost a few pounds in the few weeks he’d known her. Stress was heavy on her face, and he wondered how much of a difference it would make to see Chloe when she didn’t live under constant strain. There was something about her that made him believe her real smile in full force would be stunning.
She would never smile in his presence. He would see it through surveillance photos, so his curiousity would be satisfied even if his emotions were not. Even if those emotions were a hindrance and an embarrassment.
Lex was determined not to dwell so much on the horror of the situation that he lost sight of a solution. He didn’t understand the drive he had to protect her. She wasn’t a damsel or a helpless victim. He didn’t look at her and see weakness, even when he saw her sick and frightened. Beaten down as she was, Chloe still had the perseverance to find him and enlist his help. The nerve it took to rebel against Lionel was rare enough, and finding it in a teenage girl awed him.
Her manner hinted at a resilience he envied, because she was timid but not devastated by his father’s harassment. Why it hadn’t crushed her was a mystery he wanted to solve.
How did you do it alone so long, he wondered. Who helped you be strong enough?
He poured a glass of water for himself and sipped it slowly, wondering how long Chloe would sleep. A ringing started from the hall, a telephone that wasn’t his, and Lex walked swiftly out to silence it. He took her cellphone from the pocket of her coat, checking the name of the caller.
Clark Kent.
He hung up and left the ringer off. The boy was who she had told him, unremarkable in most ways. His grades were a bit lower than average, his life typical of a Kansas farmboy. There had been no accomplishments worth noting in his academic or private life.
But Lex thought it was some kind of good reflection on the young man that Chloe would risk herself for him. There was a feeling of something very much like envy when he thought about her loyalty and sacrifice on the boy’s behalf.
Kent had taken her to their junior prom, but there was no recent record of a relationship between them. He had gone missing during the past two summers, with police reports filed only in the first year. Lex supposed he could have gotten into something that piqued Lionel’s interest, but as yet it was looking like his father was using Clark as leverage to get Chloe. She was the honour student and editor of the school newspaper. She had written for The Daily Planet and broken many major stories in the pages of a student periodical.
She possessed the mixture of intellect, physical beauty and toughness that he admired. It was unfortunate that his father had similar tastes. His bizarre desire to have a child this late in his life was enough to send Lex reeling.
He had hired every investigator he could trust to stand up to Lionel’s pressure tactics and they were slowly gathering the evidence that would put the older man in prison. Once they had a little more he would arrange for Chloe to meet with the FBI liaison, but until then Lex was nervous about her safety. He had someone following her discretely, but there was no real way to guard her when she visited his father.
And as much as he wanted to shield her from any contact, those visits were their only hints of what Lionel was going to do next. He’d never mastered predicting what the old man would do, and Lex had come to terms with an innate truth about his nature.
He just wasn’t as much a cagey bastard as Lionel. His upbringing hadn’t given him the same instincts or the same opportunities to develop them. He would never think quite as heartlessly or be as fearless about being found out. Lex had grown up with a desire to have people he could trust and that included sometimes being fooled by those who didn’t deserve his confidence. Lionel thought he was infallible, his son knew no one was.
For the sake of his father’s young victim and the perfectionist in himself, Lex wanted to believe he wouldn’t fail.
He cupped his hands underneath the cool drinking glass, sat back on the sofa and waited for Chloe to wake up.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What a weak-minded simpleton. How can anyone expect respect if they cannot command it?
Lionel had put aside his initial emotional outburst and was giving his doctor another chance to discuss his condition. The man was looking paler and acting more queasy than the previous visit, and as far as he knew all the really bad news had already been given. The foot shuffling ballet of apprehension was making him want to punch the man for such a childish display.
“Doctor,” he said coldly, “You appear to be concerned that you will be shot for the news you are about to impart to me. While I have no interest in easing your mind, I can assure you after another minute of this stupid behaviour will make your untimely death a certainty.”
The white coat almost flew over the man’s head as he plunged into a chair. His legs crossed and his fingers laced together and squeezed as if he wished someone else was holding his hand.
“Mr. Luthor, I’m afraid there’s something that will prevent your plans for Miss Sullivan. The test results from your most recent blood sample-”
“My most recent blood sample would seem to have little to do with it,” the billionaire interrupted. “My contribution to the endeavour is momentary, but her ability to carry the child to term is something I insist upon.”
The man uncrossed his legs and almost began the stupid tap dance again, stopping himself only when he realized Lionel was glaring at his feet.
“Sir, I’m aware, but the young woman’s tests have been excellent. She will do fine.” He paused and cold hazel eyes waited for him to moisten very dry lips before he spoke again. “There is a 70 per cent chance that you are infertile.”
The humiliation hit first, even in a man who had many more accomplishments than functional private parts. It hurt his pride that there was a chink in his virility, that his body was failing even before it was dying. In that moment there was nothing to appease him, not even the idea of having Chloe Sullivan at his mercy.
The second impulse was to blame the man who was pronouncing him less a man than he had been. Lionel had held on to the conceits of the young, his girlfriends remaining 20-somethings while he aged into his late fifties and early sixties. He was a youthful 64, and proud of the way he’d remained as sharp as he had always been.
But the absence of a gradual decline meant the shock was more like the precipice he secretly feared. He had risen from nothing to have everything and now he was at the brink of losing it all again. Lucas would blunder through his fortune with impunity, never stopping until the bankruptcy lawyers came in. Lex would do better, but he would never maintain the greatness of the Luthor name.
He wouldn’t let the Luthors become the nothings they had been for too long. Huddled in squalor and not even noticeable enough to be a disgrace, the family he had destroyed was entirely deserving of it’s destruction. His parents’ best hope of being something was to die. It was the best thing that had happened to them in a life of misfortunes with no meaning.
Death wasn’t always a loss.
“Will I still be able to perform sexually,” he asked.
The doctor’s chagrin was palpable.
“I believe so, sir.”
Well, that was something.
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