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tallihensiaThe Journey Back
- Part One (with header info)
- Part Two
Part Three
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In his previous life, Lex had had a broken cheekbone a time or two before. It felt like he had one again. They were back to the pain, obviously. Lex preferred the sleeping.
Staggering, Lex held a hand to his face and tried to adjust. Going from being in Clark's arms to fighting in… Lex looked around. Another alley. Metropolis needed fewer alleys.
The person in front of him didn't make another move, though he stood ready in case Lex did anything. Silver suit contrasting against the dark skin, metal brackets against the skull. Another hero.
What was Lex? A fucking villain? "Well, obviously," Lex muttered to himself. Then he winced. "Ow." Cheekbone, right. Villain, right. Lex had caught a glimpse of somebody running out of the alley as he'd been recovering, but right now, he couldn't dredge up details. There was something that looked like another one of those weird futuristic guns on the ground. Lex didn't make any move towards it, keeping himself still and trying to look unthreatening.
The silver warrior stepped back with a frown. "Who are you?"
Lex blinked. Before he could stop himself, he ran a hand over his head. Yes, still bald. "Lex Luthor," he replied cautiously, getting the words out while moving his jaw as little as possible. It was a good thing it was his cheekbone broken and not his jaw or he wouldn't be able to talk at all. As it was... painful, but possible.
The frown didn't go away. The warrior pulled one of the gadgets off his belt and thumbed it, holding it to his mouth. "Not an emergency, Superman, but if you have a moment, there's something here I want your opinion on."
In spite of himself, Lex's heart raced at Superman's name and he smiled. He quickly wiped the smile –- his other self probably had a very different reaction.
The warrior tilted his head to one side as if listening to something. Then he shook his head. "Sorry about the punch."
That was different. "I'm sure I deserved it," Lex said carefully, resisting touching his face again. It was starting to feel better. Either it was going numb, or his healing was starting to kick in.
"I didn't have a lot of time and forgot to pull the blow." The warrior reached down and picked up the gun. He squeezed his hand and the gun crumpled and then sparks flew around it. He dropped it back to the ground.
Lex's gaze narrowed. There had been that hearing thing earlier too. Yet, he didn't seem quite like Clark did when he was using his powers. There was also something just a little off... Lex looked carefully over the suit and the brackets, watching the way the man held himself. He was human, but... "You're bionic?" he asked in surprise, his mind dredging up the idea from somewhere.
The warrior smiled. "You do realize that nobody in my generation has ever watched that show?"
"Reruns," Lex returned automatically. That's how he had seen them himself and... oh, right, six years. This man, though he looked to be Lex's age, was more likely Clark's. Lex was older now too. He kept forgetting.
The man shook his head. "Didn't see them. Though it might come back in remakes. They're doing a lot of those nowadays."
A weird sense of time warping stretched around Lex. The last time he had watched a tv show was with Clark in the castle, the two of them sitting with popcorn and coke, fighting over the remote. That... was before his wedding, before Helen had started taking his weekends instead of Clark. They watched tv, but movies, documentaries, news, not the seasonal shows. Not like he and Clark had.
Lex was willing to bet that really had been the last time, despite what his other self did. His other self probably liked documentaries too. News, definitely. Stock reports.
There was a brief slide to grey, but Lex managed to haul himself back from the edges of it as bright blue and red swooped down beside the silver.
"Cyborg, what's the--—" Clark cut himself off, staring at Lex. "Lex!" He took several steps up and touched Lex's cheek gently, wincing in sympathetic pain.
"What is it? Written all over my face?" Lex said sourly. "It's the same damn body! How the hell can you tell it's me?"
"Same body, different person." Clark reluctantly let his hand drop and took a step back.
"You're different," the warrior—--Cyborg, Clark had called him—--said. "You hold yourself differently, you speak differently, and you don't recognize me."
"And you do recognize me..." Clark smiled.
"Who is this person, Superman?" Cyborg asked, stepping up to stand next to Clark.
Two superheroes, both giving Lex their full attention. Bully for them. Lex sniffed and looked away.
"Lex Luthor," Clark answered.
"This is not the Lex Luthor I know."
"No, he's the one I know -– the original Lex. My friend. I don't know who, or what, the other is. He moved in when I wasn't paying attention. But Lex is back now."
Cyborg smiled slightly, a bare quirking of the mouth. "Suddenly, much becomes clear as to why you constantly tried to explain away or refused to see all of his wrong-doing."
"He is right here, thank you!" Lex snapped, annoyed at the talking around him.
Clark grinned at both Lex and Cyborg. "I knew he wouldn't do those things."
"This one wouldn't," Cyborg agreed.
And they were still talking around him. "How the hell do you know I wouldn't?" Lex growled, almost ready to prove them wrong.
"Because you would not do this to me." Cyborg gestured at himself.
For a moment, Lex was puzzled, then realization came crashing through. Cyborg. Bionic. Somebody had made a fusion between machine and human and that person... was himself. The world went a little dim around the edges of his vision, though he stanchly refused to let it grey out. "Volunteer?" He asked in a whisper.
Cyborg shook his head. "It is true it saved my life… but it was not by choice and they had plans for me before I escaped. But I know you are not the Lex Luthor I know, because when I was in his labs, he looked at me with pride and possession. When I escaped, exasperation replaced the pride. And now, when I encounter him, he eyes me with the same amount of possession, tempered only with a waiting aspect, until he can have me under his control again. Until then, he is willing to see what I do. He has never not recognized me."
Lex gulped. He knew exactly the sort of look that Cyborg described. His dad used to turn it on him all the time, usually accompanied with a touch or some sort of gesture to remind Lex that he was still a Luthor and belonged to his father. Which was creepy as all hell and Lex had often gone afterwards to the gym and his punching bag for a workout to try and dispel it. That Lex had done this himself to another human being... "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"You are not him," Cyborg simply said.
"Wait..." Clark put in. "You don't recognize him at all?"
Lex turned with fury and shame on Clark. "If you think--—"
Clark waved his arms, cutting him off. "Not what I meant! No, Lex, no. I just... you had talked about some memories you did have, of, well... of the between time. And I just wondered..."
The two years after Belle Reve, when Lex had been breaking into pieces and hadn't noticed. Perhaps he should have stayed in the mental institution, if this is how he came out. Lex studied Cyborg carefully and tried to search in the fuzzy memories. "Nothing. Soldiers. I remember a soldier... his wife tried to come and claim him but she blew us up instead underground. I remember... lab rooms. Glimpses. Scientists. Burning man... wings on a dime..."
"Wings on a dime?" Clark questioned with a blink.
Lex shook himself out of it and shrugged. He didn't know.
"You didn't do the work yourself," Cyborg rumbled. "The lead scientist..." and he proceeded to describe him.
"Yes." Lex could almost see him. "I remember him. Contacting me... and then nothing."
"Huh," Clark said. "That's weird, to be such a complete gap like that."
It was. What was almost stranger, though, was that Clark had thought of it. Lex turned his focus to Clark. "I thought you weren't listening, back when I was describing those memories."
"I had other things on my mind then," Clark grinned. Then the grin was lost. "But I've had a lot of time to go over it and think about what else you said."
A lot of time. "How long?" Lex took a step towards Clark, towards the pain he saw in those... blue eyes. One of these days, he would ask Clark about that color change.
"Three months," Clark whispered, his voice breaking, his eyes heart-breakingly sad.
Lex took another step. "Go watch the alley entrance or something," he directed the order to Cyborg without looking at him. Then he was in Clark's arms and holding him tightly. "I'm sorry."
Clark held him just as tightly, his hands digging in almost painfully. "If I thought you'd done it on purpose, I would have kicked your butt," he murmured.
Lex couldn't help the snort of laughter. Then he just hung on.
"I thought... I thought at first you might have been doing it deliberately, breaking it off so I wouldn't be hurt later. But you are here now."
Lex closed his eyes. "I tried the self-sacrifice thing once or twice. It didn't work out so well for either Amanda or my mom. So that's probably not the way to go unless I want to see you hurt more. Which I don't want."
"Lex, how did I ever lose you?" Clark's voice wavered in a way superhero's voices shouldn't. Then they were kissing, trying to crawl into each other's bodies and take up residence there, reassurance and desperation all in the same.
After a couple of minutes, Cyborg cleared his throat a couple of times, then came and physically pried them apart. "Hate to break this up," he said, sounding like he meant it. "But there are cops heading this way. Probably summoned by the guy Le... Luthor was after."
Real life again. Lex glanced at the mangled gun on the ground. "Take that with you when you go."
"Lex, —"
Knowing what Clark was going to say, Lex cut him off. "No, I stay. You go. I... I need to work this out. He's going to be back soon anyway. Let it be here and I might be able to do something sooner. But you go. I wouldn't be able to explain you."
Cyborg nodded. "He's right. Come on, Superman." Reaching a hand out, the silver warrior persuaded the blue and red one, and they both left.
Lex watched as the cops ran into the alley, guns out, their eyes on him but also scanning around.
"About time," Lex said sourly, his hand hovering near his broken cheekbone, hoping it looked appropriately nasty. He didn't think it was quite as broken as it was before. It didn't hurt as much. But maybe that would make it look worse, the bruising showing up darker. He tried to speak to them as the person he was would. "I was assaulted and it took you this long to show up? I pay taxes for a reason. This is not the reason."
They stumbled to a halt. The more senior one holstered his gun. "I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor, sir. If you could please describe the person who assaulted you..."
"But that's not--—" The younger cop started to say before the other hushed him. Well, Lex knew where the bribe money went.
"He was about six-foot one, Caucasian, wearing a green leather hood..." Maliciously, Lex described in detail the arrow-wielding hero who had tried to shoot him. Friend of Clark's or not, Lex had been left with a bad taste in his mouth about him.
The cops nodded. "We know him," the senior said grimly. "That damn vigilante is active sometimes in our city as well as his own. He is nothing like our own Superman."
Lex certainly agreed with that. "I will press charges. Send somebody to my office later to collect my statement. You can add it to the collection for when he is finally arrested."
Lex blinked as he heard the words come out of his mouth. That wasn't… he didn't…
"Do you need an ambulance, sir? For your face?"
"No. I'll have my own, competent doctor deal with it. You can have her statement later to verify extent of the assault."
Lex hadn't said that either. Yet the words had come out of his mouth. Lex was horrified to realize that he was not in charge anymore. He was an observer in his own skull and the person there now was the other Lex Luthor. He struggled not to panic, but it washed over him in a wave, engulfing him in terror.
Spinning around, his gaze tracked back inside the alley behind them, looking for somebody. "Who is there?" There was nobody there. He looked in each corner, then turned, frowning, back to the police. "Somebody is watching us. Possibly the perpetrator."
Lex realized that his other self was looking for him. He had felt Lex's struggle and interpreted it as somebody there outside of them. Lex tried to force himself to be calm, to not worry about his lack of control. Movie. He was watching a movie. There was nothing to control, just to observe. It wasn't him… he was eating popcorn and watching from a distance.
The cops moved into the alley, hands on their guns. Lex watched with narrowed eyes as they searched. Didn't find anything, of course.
Still watching the movie, Lex observed as he talked some more with the police and then climbed into a limo that had been called for him. Conversations on a cell phone to people. Business and research. A stop at LuthorCorp towers and then a doctor was examining him.
"It was shattered, but it's starting to pull the pieces back together. You're going to have a spectacular bruise for awhile. However, as usual, it will be in an accelerated pattern. You'll have to use the make-up to avoid people seeing how quickly you heal." She wrote a quick set of instructions as to what shades and look the injury should appear as for the next few weeks, saved the file and handed him the drive. "Do you need medication?"
"No." Lex's eyes roved around the room, looking, searching, suspicious. "There's something not right about this and I need to be clear-headed."
Inside, Lex couldn't help the near-hysterical fit of giggles. Clear-headed.
The searching gaze paused and returned to the doctor. "Did you ever find anything about the sleep-walking?"
She shook her head. "Your system was clear, no drugs, just some normal coffee. It hasn't happened again. Maybe the monitors we put up have discouraged your subconscious from acting out again. Or it was just that once. You still can't remember anything from it?"
"I went to sleep in my bed and woke up with my pants around my ankles in an alley," he snapped. "I want something more than 'system clear'!"
As the doctor reassured him they were working on it, Lex tried hard to keep himself in his corner and not bring attention to himself as he laughed. Pants around his ankles? They hadn't gotten that far in the necking. Clark obviously had improvised. Lex wished he could have seen it. But if he could, then he wouldn't be here. Or there. Or whatever.
While he thought about it, the world took another turn and Lex was no longer in a corner. He was removed another step away, a grey film between him and sight and sound. If he concentrated, he could make out what was happening, what his other self was doing, however it was an effort to do so.
The removal felt familiar, like an old home. A corner in the closet he was returning to. Lex wondered how long a person could be in the dark before becoming blind. How long with sensory deprivation until insanity?
It was remarkably easy not to think, back in his corner. Lex found himself floating for long stretches without noticing anything until he forced himself to try and pay attention to what his other self was doing. Each time he did that, though, the other stopped to look around. He could obviously feel Lex, yet just as obviously didn't know Lex was inside him.
That night, as the other closed his eyes and went to sleep, Lex crept out of his corner and then out of the closet. He didn't dare move from the bed. They were monitoring him now. But it felt so good to be in his own body again. Lex stretched in the bed and then rolled over, reveling in the simple feel of sheets against his skin, sliding over, warm and comforting. Though not as comforting as Clark's arms.
Lex got up and went to the bathroom. That was something nobody could object to, nor something his other self would necessarily remember. A common, everyday happening that was so normal it was forgettable. Except it was Lex that was doing it, in his own body.
He stared at his face in the mirror, wondering at the lines on his face, the automatic way his mouth curved down, the frown that threatened to gather. They had done studies that showed that even if people weren't happy, the simple act of putting their faces into a smile often cheered them up. Lex suspected the inverse was also true.
It was possible that this person, the other, was still Lex, a road he could have gone down. Dissociative identity disorder, multiple personality in the colloquial, fit his symptoms. Lex had been drugged into the sanitarium, yet while there perhaps he really had gone insane. Electroshock helping the process.
Currently, Clark believed in Lex as a different person, completely and wholeheartedly. Yet Clark had also been disappointed in Lex back when he'd found out about Nixon, about Hamilton. How much worse would Clark have reacted if he'd ever found the room? Lex had been an idiot for putting it together. He had wanted to know about Smallville, about the things Hamilton had found, about the meteors and about his friend. Perhaps his curiosity about the things was a way to cover up his interest in his underage friend in another way. He'd always been attracted to Clark, yet had always ruthlessly shoved that attraction into a corner. The same corner he was staying in now? It was possible. If Lex had wanted to be a good person for Clark, yet wanted to push his feelings for Clark away as dangerous... would that have turned him into a bad person? Splitting himself into two people and hiding the one that wanted Clark and wanted to be good away?
It just didn't feel right. It made sense, and Lex agreed that the other person in Lex's body was definitely different than himself. But though Lex seemed to fit the symptoms, he didn't feel like it was right. He'd watched his other self through the day, floating in his corner. The other was familiar… Lex thought that he knew him. Yet he didn't think he was himself. Or a version thereof.
Lex walked out of the bathroom and stared at the huge window overlooking the city. Metropolis was beautiful and dangerous. Smallville had been just as dangerous for him, its dangers hidden in innocence and simplicity.
Taking several steps towards the window, Lex stood as near to it as he was going to get. Fingerprints on the glass proved that his other self regularly went closer, and that was just today, before the maids would be in tomorrow.
Right-handed, no fear of heights. A completely different attitude on things. Lex just didn't understand some of the things he'd done. Even if he'd gone absolutely nuts in the sanitarium and split personalities, there was so much of what he'd done that Lex just didn't think he would ever do, such as marrying Lana and the human experimentations. Though if he was insane, Lex supposed that he shouldn't judge himself by his former standards. Could a personality be that different and still be the same person?
Lex glanced up and right at the small monitor in the corner of the room, then he went back to bed, unwilling to do too much that would alert his other self. Curled up in the sheets and blankets, he tried to think. Stoke victims sometimes changed personalities radically, kind people one day, mean SOBs the next. Electroshock was an argument for that. However, in strokes, the changes were usually instantaneous, and there weren't separate personalities.
Lex believed in himself as a separate entity. Clark believed in him. Even the unknown Cyborg believed in him. That must mean he existed. But why was he back now, and who was the other? How could Lex reclaim his life? What would there be for Lex, even if he could reclaim it, with so much of his life now tied up in being a villain?
With a sigh, Lex rolled over. He wanted Clark. He wanted so badly to be in Clark's arms and to have Clark holding him and to make this all go away. None of Clark's powers, though, could help a man lost in his own mind.
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Meetings. Lex hated meetings. At least when he wasn't in charge. Lex felt like a nine-year old again, forced to sit in a chair next to his father and watch silently.
Actually, the comparison was very apt –- these meetings were run as Lionel would have. A mixture of charm and heavy-handed business; a velvet glove that still left a bruise. The subordinates were either afraid or slavishly devoted, sometimes both. Those that showed signs of rebellion were put down swiftly.
Lex had become his father. When he had watched those tactics as a child, he had always said he would not repeat that pattern. When he had worked with Gabe Sullivan on the fertilizer plant at Smallville, Lex had steered as far away from those practices as he could, and he'd proved his ideas of management were better. What, then, was he doing repeating the same things?
To make things worse, Lex couldn't now even stir out of his closet without alerting the other. Every time he pushed forward, his other self took notice. Several times, now, when Lex had ventured to look at something clearer, his other self had gone still, closed his eyes… and explored his mind.
Lex could feel the other searching. The personality shifting through and looking for someone else. It was the oddest feeling, and Lex was grateful for his closet that he hid in. Inside the closet, he was safe. It helped that the other didn't actually suspect Lex's existence. When he searched, he was looking outside. He built fortifications around Lex's mind so others couldn't get in. He reinforced old walls and set up patrols. Yet so far, he was not actually looking inside for the problem. If he did, Lex didn't think his closet would keep him that safe.
The closet, though, was limiting. Lex had to watch everything through the fuzzy haze of greyness, and it was an effort to part through. Slowly, he was falling back into the habit of not bothering to watch, not bothering to be. When he looked out and saw a calendar that showed weeks had passed since the last time Lex had been out... Lex didn't care. It was safe where he was.
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Date: 2010-12-08 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-12-12 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-12 03:02 am (UTC)Heh... {keeps silent and waits until you're at the next part} ;D
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Date: 2010-12-09 09:31 pm (UTC)I loved that Clark pantsed Luthor, and that Lex checked to see if he was bald when Cyborg wondered who he was. Such funny touches and a very serious story.
It's fascinating that Lex can now look out without Luthor knowing he's there, also fascinating (and sad) that he's comfortable in his closet and doesn't necessarily want to come out.
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Date: 2010-12-12 03:07 am (UTC)Heh, I couldn't resist the pantsing! And all the other things... it's possible for me to write a totally serious story, it is... but you'll only see it once in a blue moon. ;p I hope the humor doesn't mess up the stories otherwise. They're just things that I see as happening in there. Life can be both funny and serious at the same time.
Lex had been in that place for so long without knowing it, that it's like a second home to him. Comfortable, safe. He knows he should get up and about... but honestly, how often do *we* exercise and eat our vegetables when it's so much easier to sit on the couch and eat popcorn? ^^; (Says the person who really really really needs to exercise more, and knows it, but, um, yeah. ;p)
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Date: 2010-12-12 05:23 am (UTC)how often do *we* exercise and eat our vegetables when it's so much easier to sit on the couch and eat popcorn? True words.
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Date: 2010-12-12 11:14 am (UTC)Oh good. :) Sometimes I worry. But it's particularly good you like it, because I don't think I could stop if I tried. ;D
Veggies. {nods} {glances over at the twinky} Well... ^_^
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Date: 2011-01-04 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-07 02:25 am (UTC)Hee - it was fun to stick that in. ;D It fit, for the odd things Lex was trying to remember... maybe. ^__^ I'm glad you liked it, and my random bits of humor in the stories!