Act Two: Only the Good Die Young
"Well, there ain't no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good."
-- "Ain't no rest for the wicked" by Cage the Elephant
*****LnC*****
Chapter 22:
His fingers traced the edge of his steak knife methodically, running up and down the safe side of the blade almost absentmindedly as he zoned out.
This was not at all how he'd planned his night on going.
Lex squared his jaw with anger, a silent fury rattling in his chest. He supposed he should have expected it. Not once had things gone his way since Mister-Clark-call-me-Kansas-Kent came into their lives. As far as he was concerned, the man was his own personal demon, hell-bent on tearing his relationship with Lois apart. True, today had been extenuating circumstances, but that didn't change the facts. Lois wasn't here. It was their anniversary, and she wasn't here. She was there, with him, and that thought bred a level of hatred in his soul that he hadn't felt in... quite possibly ever. At least not since his father had driven his mother to suicide and taken a bullet to the brain as a follow up.
The trouble was, Lex was having a hard time discerning who his hate was for. Kent, of course, topped the list. But he had a growing resentment for Lois Lane as well, with a healthy helping for himself. He should have seen this coming. It was a big news day, as everyone seemed intent on reminding him. Lois had an article to write, her boss had papers to sell, and it just was a coincidence of course that Clark Kent owned the paper. He knew there was nothing Lois could do to help that. Besides maybe filing a sexual harassment lawsuit against the man, though she insisted he wasn't harassing.
Then of course, that freak-god who had saved his girlfriend showed up. And Lex was grateful, of course. But the way she'd gazed at the hero, swayed on her feet... The universe was playing one hell of a prank on Lex Luthor. He was somehow the last man on his girlfriend's list, and he hadn't even thought he was competing. He thought they were past that.
Stupid Clark Kent.
Lex traced his finger back around the knife, this time accidentally pricking himself with the sharp tip. He looked at it, startled from his thoughts for a long moment as he watched a small bead of blood rise and fall from the pad of his index finger. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus. It was just a huge news day. An historic launch, an attempted explosion, and the debut of some god-like hero? That was like the triple crown for journalism. He understood that. She'd promised him a rain check, and Lex would make sure she kept whatever arrangement they set up the next time.
A big news day.
Lex shot from his chair in a flash, jostling the table with the extra set of empty dinnerware accidentally. Lightning struck his brain, and suddenly he needed to be in action, expending some of this energy.
Clark Kent had predicted that it would be a big news day. Before anything happened.
"Mr. Luthor, is everything all right?"
He nodded rapidly, distraction glazing his eyes. "Yes, Andre. Fine. Would you please have someone come by and clear the table?"
"Of course."
Lex practically fled the room, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Maybe it was nothing. A sort of throwaway remark, or something snarky to shake his confidence. Wishful thinking, even. But there was no getting around the fact that he'd said it and then it came true, and that led him to only one foregone conclusion.
Who was Clark Kent to know something would go wrong?
Lex pushed through the doors of his office with more than the necessary amount of force. He grabbed the receiver from his desk and dialed the first number on his speed dial. "Nigel, I need you to look into something for me."
*****LnC*****
Smallville, 1975
Lex stumbled unsteadily down the empty country road, his eyes blurred with tears and the sting of alcohol. He was considerably more sober now that he'd been walking through the cold night air for a while, but the headache that followed said buzz was enough to make any man trip over his own two feet.
It's not like he didn't have a good reason for it.
One year. It had been one god-damn forsaken year since he'd lost little Jaxon. One year, and nothing was better. He'd thought this trip would help— get his mind off the date, off the fact that he was childless for over 365 days now and help him focus on his work again. That was the only thing he had left anymore— his company. And even that had hardly seemed worth it to him over the past year.
But no. This was good for him— not only would it get him out of his current funk, but he might actually be able to fix up his business. So, he'd travel the world, personally examining all of his financial holdings and various branches where he could.
Which is how he found himself about forty minutes south of Topeka, Kansas and God knows where after that. He couldn't hold it together any longer— he'd examined the midwest branch of his recently redefined LexCorp and headed for the nearest bar. Glass after glass of drowned sorrows until the bartender at the club demanded he had to eat something or be removed from the premises, and he was out on his ass.
Perhaps he was lucky Kansas was a mostly dry state with such strict liquor laws— he had to travel to a county with a club that he had to join in order to drink. If he hadn't, Lex truly believed that he could have drank himself into oblivion tonight.
But now, he just wandered through an out of the way town and at nearly two o'clock in the morning he was getting a little new perspective on life. It was hard to be depressed under a sky like that. He marveled at the twinkling expanse of stars that stretched overhead, his mind filled with wonder. How could the world be both so beautiful and so cruel? How could anybody look up at that and give any sadness or anger or violence even a second thought?
How much had he had to drink again?
He tripped over his own two feet and leaned heavily against a supportive fence, swaying underneath the bulk of his form. He blinked his eyes furiously for a moment, trying to clear the brief fog that had somehow clouded them— couldn't be tears, no. Nothing of the sort.
Man, he needed to sober up fast.
Lex closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, practicing his meditation techniques. His therapist would be proud. Sometimes, he could even feel it working. The rest of the time, he wondered if maybe he was paying a quack. Like breathing wouldn't remind him of his son that wasn't.
A clang echoed across the empty fields to his ears, startling him. He squinted out across the expansive space, not seeing anything to have caused the noise. Maybe it was in his head. He wished he could call a cab and go home.
But then another clang rang out, this time coupled with a few choice words. Lex straightened up and turned around to scan the field behind his little fence post. The source became apparently obvious. Lex's eyes widened as he saw a middle aged man toss his shovel off to the side and wipe a hand across his brow. Ice filled the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be what it looked like. He could be gardening. He could be burying the family pet...
But at two in the morning?
No. Didn't matter how suspect it seemed. What were the odds of coming across something genuinely nefarious just by walking around after dark? Lex paused a moment, tried to convince himself to just keep walking....
But he couldn't be sure.
Quietly, Lex took a few steps back, following the fenceline stealthily as was possible for a man who was completely hammered just five minutes before, trying to get a closer look. He squinted at the base of the tree where the man leaned heavily, trying to catch his breath. There was something there, he just couldn't quite make it out—
The bespectacled man seemed to steel himself, and picked up the shovel once again. He hefted it in his hands for a few moments, as though it weighed more this time, before digging again. Lex watched in sickened fascination for a few minutes, until the man tripped over what Lex thought was a tree root. That is, until the lumpy form rolled.
The man bent over and dragged it back closer, and the shape and movement of the thing was eerily familiar. Lex's heart started pounding through his ears, and he cried out louder than he'd intended. "Hey!"
The man froze. Lex ran his hands over his face, fear coursing through his veins as the man slowly turned his head and locked eyes on him. Lex tried to bolster himself. He couldn't just stand by and watch complacently as some stranger buried a body in the country. Besides, maybe he would get spooked. Lex squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and lifted a leg as gracefully as he could over the wires of the downed fence. "What do you think you're doing? Is that a—"
"You should mind your own business, son."
Lex roiled at the patronizing term, and stomped closer defiantly. "Who do you think you are? You think you can get away with this?"
The man pushed off the tree and wiped his brow, stepping towards Lex. "You're gonna want to get off my property."
Lex turned and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hey! This man has a dead body! Help! Fire! Anybody!"
"You drunk, son? You're in the country. Now get off my property or I'll—"
"What? You gonna call the police?" He scoffed. "Yeah, you do that."
There was a flash of silver in the moonlight that Lex didn't recognize until it was almost too late. He yelped and dove away as the sharp end of the spade came down over his head. A sharp sting streaked across his brow where it grazed him. His eyes went wide as he felt the gash and glanced back at the man. He was menacing over him, and Lex had to swallow down some bile.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
He scrambled underneath the man's large form as he swung the shovel again, slipping in the mud and landing on top of the feed bag. He gagged at the contact with the distinctly human form and pushed off. Mud squelched under his shoes as he stood. Lex spun and threw a punch at his attacker and caught his cheekbone, knocking off his glasses. He shook his hand to numb some of the pain, and went in for another swing.
"Dad!"
The young voice from the distance startled Lex. He felt his heart skip a beat at the moniker before realizing it wasn't directed at him, and his split second of hesitation cost him. He caught a glimpse of a boy in the distance—
The shovel slammed into his back, square between his shoulder blades.
Lex cried out in pain and crumpled to his knees. The cries of the boy were lost to the ringing in his ears, along with any recognition of where his opponent was. Dazed, Lex steeled himself and waited for the final blow.
"Go back in the house, son!"
A blow that didn't seem would arrive.
"But—"
"Inside! Now!"
Lex winced as he pushed himself up partially, and kicked backwards. He landed the kick with a satisfying crack, and the man toppled down next to him. He rolled painfully away, grabbing the shovel as he went.
"Hey!"
Lex swung back blindly on his knees, taking advantage of his sudden upper hand. Hysteria zipped through his veins, the shovel feeling lighter than it should, his head feeling much the same, the spasming in his back taking a backseat to the adrenaline. His attacker was vaguely in front of him, clearly thrown. Lex turned off his brain and went for it.
A scream was wrenched from his throat as his shoulder was wrenched back. Belatedly, Lex realized that something had stopped the shovel mid-swing. His eyes swam as he searched for the reason for his pain.
His eyes locked on the young boy, who stood at his back with the tool firmly in hand. How he'd materialized behind him, he hadn't the faintest idea. The child took the shovel out of his hands and, with a surprisingly gentle shove, pushed Lex face down into the dirt.
"I said... to go inside!"
The wheezing sound of his attacker prompted Lex to try and rise to his feet again. Plant one hand, then two....
No dice. He collapsed in agony, back and shoulders throbbing in opposition to each other, clouding his brain.
"But Dad—"
"Get over here! Give me that shovel."
"Dad, what are you gonna do?"
"I don't want you to see anything more tonight! Now get back in the house now!"
The sound of gravel crunching in the distance didn't alert any of them, not in time. Neither did the lights traveling along the road. But the car door slamming did get the boy's attention quickly. His head snapped around quickly, wide eyed. "Dad!"
The changed tone in his voice pricked Lex's ears, barely cognizant of what was going on anymore. But the man hovering over him with the shovel menacingly above his head tensed, slowly lowered his weapon to a less aggressive position.
"Kent! Odd to see you up at this hour. Oh hey, kiddo. You're up too?"
"Uh... Harris. Surprised to see you on patrol. I, uh, what are you doing out?"
The officer waved him off casually as he approached the property. Kent positioned himself between Lex and the other body casually, pretending to just move closer. "Irig called in with a complaint. Apparently saw some drunk and disorderly wandering down the road, and demanded that I search for him. You know Wayne. Figured it wouldn't hurt to do a quick loop, give him some peace of mind. Haven't seen anything, have ya?"
"Uh, can't say I have—"
A police officer. Lex thanked whatever lucky star was suddenly looking out for him. He couldn't get up. Damn. If he was this close to being rescued from whatever this crazy Kent guy had planned, and just missed it, he'd hate himself forever. Or just be dead. Lex groaned loudly, then froze. He tried again, as best he could with the wind knocked out of him, groaning louder, muttering for help.
"What was that?"
"What? I didn't hear anything."
Lex lifted his head up partially, trying to get a look at the officer.
Harris took half a step back, seeming to absorb the environment surreptitiously. He stayed poised like that, one foot forward, one foot back, and shot Kent half a smile. "Must have been nothing. Anyway. What are you doing out here so late?"
"Heh. Yeah. Uh, the dog died. Shelby. Just before midnight. Didn't want to wait to bury her."
"That's a shame."
"Yeah."
"What kind of dog was she again?"
"Golden Retriever."
"Uh-huh. You want to tell me what's really going on here, Jonathan?"
He froze. "I-I don't know—"
Harris held down the button on his three-way radio. "Hey Darrell, want to come out and give me some back up?"
Jonathan wiped his brow, hand trembling. "Okay, okay. I did see your drunk. He tried to break into my house, y'see, and I got a little overzealous—"
"Help me!" Lex finally croaked out louder.
Harris drew his gun and indicated for Jonathan to step aside. He leaned out of the way, and the officer stepped towards him, keeping his weapon aimed at Kent but in a much looser manner. "Y'all right, sir?"
"M-my back..."
Harris leaned over Lex, surveying his injuries. He picked up his radio again. "This is Officer Harris, we're gonna need an ambulance down here at the Kent farm as soon as possible. And requesting more back up please."
"He's lying," Lex whispered.
"What was that?"
"Don't listen to him, Harris. How long have you known me?"
"Body..."
His assailant’s face went ashen as he watched it all unravel at his feet. He ran a hand over his thinning hair, and a wave of pride washed over Lex. It was all so surreal that he could hardly believe it was all happening, but at least he’d caught the man.
Kent’s eyes alighted on the shovel once again. He darted a glance at Harris, who was trying to encourage Lex to get to his feet. Lex cried out in pain, collapsing once more. Out of the corner of his eye, while the officer was distracted, Lex watched in horror as the man spun and picked up the tool, and without hesitation, he swung towards Lex’s head. He did the only thing he could think of to defend himself.
"Kent! No!"
Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut.
"Dad!"
Kent stumbled back, and the sound of the gunshot echoed in Lex’s ears, ringing. The assailant dropped to his knees, hissing in agony.
Harris' jaw dropped in disbelief and he shook Lex’s drunken grip off his gun. He rushed over to Jonathan's side. "Kent? Lord. Hey, Kent? Listen to me. Looks like a clean shot, through and through. Just a bit of the leg. You're gonna be okay."
"Killer," Lex called out breathily. "He's a killer."
"You kindly need to shut your mouth. You just shot a staple of this community."
"He... shot first... Over there."
Sirens wailed in the distance, and Harris finally got a look at what he was talking about. "Holy hell."
Lex let his eyes drift shut, finally getting a little bit of peace. His head was dizzy with pain, but it was over. He could rest knowing he'd done something good today.
Red and blue lights washed over his face as the sound of several cars pulling up through the gravel met his ears, and Lex Luthor felt himself go numb to the world.
***
