Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Purgatory 7

I know you thought I'd disappeared. Sorry for the wait. Thanks again for reading and commenting. It means a lot!

TOC here

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New York City in the year 2002 wasn't much different than it had been in 1993. But Clark had to pause as he took it all in. He wasn't sure exactly where it was he'd been all this time. He could clearly recall starting out in South America, but if they were docking here, that clearly meant he'd been taken somewhere other than the place he'd started from. Along the route, the air had been crisp, indicating they had no longer been near the equator. They'd also traveled a great deal of time at a South Westerly heading before turning North, a sign he'd been taken across the Atlantic before being locked away. Since he hadn't recognized the port they'd left from, he wasn't exactly sure where he'd been.

Besides, Clark decided, it didn't matter now. He was out and that's all he was concerned with.

Clark felt a little anxious and overwhelmed as he gazed upon the sights he thought he'd never see again. He hadn't realized that since he'd gotten out of that prison, he was slowly coming back to life. It didn't resemble, in any way, the life he'd had before, but it was still a life.

He didn't have long to take in his surroundings before Edward ushered him into a waiting car. Warren took his leave, explained that his job was done and Edward would make sure the last leg of the journey was completed as ordered. A little while later, Clark boarded a small plane. When it landed, he was put into another car and driven through some of the most beautiful country he'd ever seen. Of course, he 'had' seen it before. He was somewhere in the New England states of the US. He contented himself with staring out the window at the beautiful fall colors as the scenery rushed by. When a massive estate came into view, he sat up a little straighter.

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Clark felt like a kid in a candy store as he walked through the large hallway of the mansion he'd entered. Nine years in a tiny room built of rock had certainly given him an appreciation of the finer things in life, and he had to admit that this seemed to be a very fine house. He was led to a huge library where a man was looking up at the contents of the bookcase before him. The man turned to look at Clark when he came in.

"Welcome," the man offered softly. "I am Travis."

"Travis," Clark answered in a flat tone. He 'd been locked away far too long to dance around formalities. He'd rather jump directly to the point. "Would you mind telling me why I'm here?"

"Certainly." He waved to a chair and moved to take one himself. For a long while he could only look at Clark and smile understandingly. The sudden change in circumstances for the young man surely had to be a bit of a shock.

The man's scrutiny made Clark uneasy, but he chose to occupy himself by looking around the room. Finally Travis spoke.

"Warren didn't tell you much, did he?"

"He didn't," Clark answered looking back at Travis. "And who was he anyway?"

"Just a man hired to get you here. Look at me, young man."

Clark's expression remained blank. What was he supposed to see? "And?"

"I am Travis Devon," the man told Clark. "And I am very pleased to meet you." He thrust his hand out to shake Clark's.

Clark grasped the man's hand wearily. "Do you mind telling me what all of this is about? Why is the fact that you are Travis Devon supposed to mean something to me?"

"Just look at yourself. Well, maybe not now. With a haircut and a shave, we could pass as father and son."

"What?"

Travis reached for a photo that was laid faced down on the desk beside them. "Look." The man chuckled slightly. "Actually, the coincidence with our looks is somewhat of an ironic added bonus."

Clark didn't respond to these vague and confusing answer, but took the photograph, eyes widening in surprise. The image staring back at him did look an awful lot like himself. His eyes lifted to the man before him. "This is…"

"I know, though that was taken a long time ago. So, now I guess you want to know why? Why did I bring you here? Why did it take me so long?"

"Those are all very good questions," Clark said ruefully as he dropped the photo back onto the desk.

"Let's start this way… The place where you were held is called Purgatory."

Clark snorted his indignation. "Yeah, well, it was named perfectly."

"I know. That place and several like it have been in place all over the world for years. It is where the governments of the world send those who have embarrassed them… or those who have simply ticked them off. Hundreds of missing persons have been lost inside those horrible walls."

"I can see why."

Devon smiled and waved a hand in the direction of the door. Immediately a servant was there with a tray of food and drinks.

"Please. Eat." Devon lifted a glass to his lips and sipped the liquid as he watched Clark.

After a few moments, Clark put his empty glass down and looked back over at his benefactor. "So what does that have to do with me?" Clark found himself wondering if he'd been wrong about who'd sent him to Purgatory. Could he have annoyed the government... and which government? In fact, Clark was beginning to get the uneasy suspicion that perhaps the US govnerment had somehow discovered his secret and wanted to get rid of an overpowerful being, just on the off chance that one day he might pose a threat. The older man's next statement, however quickly relieved his fears.

"But... you didn't do anything to any government, did you?" Devon let that settle with the young man a moment before he continued. " Instead, you upset a very powerful, man, but I'll get to who later." Devon put his own glass back down and clasped his hands in front of him. "Meanwhile, I want you to claim my fortune and expose this person as one of the largest evils in this world."

"Excuse me?"

"We look so much alike, no one would ever doubt you if you claimed to be my illegitimate son. That would make you heir to my fortune and with the kind of money I have, you could cause a lot of trouble for the monster that has caused us both a great deal of misery."

Clark paused mid-bite on a piece of fruit. He looked at Devon as if he had just grown another head. This man couldn't possibly mean who he thought he meant.

Devon couldn't help but smile. This young man across from him knew exactly who he was referring to. He carefully set his glass down and folded his hands across his lap.

"I see you know exactly of whom I speak."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't very hard to figure out," Clark said sarcastically. "And with all that free time…" He shrugged slightly before continuing with his piece of fruit.

Travis smiled at the younger man. "He's also made my life hell over the last few years and it's become so damned annoying."

"With your money," Clark was quick to remind him, "It seems you could have handled him a long time ago."

Devon laughed aloud. Kent was a wonderful choice. "I could have," the man agreed. "However, wouldn't you agree that revenge is much sweeter when it's just a tad ironic?"

Clark finished chewing the food in his mouth before he spoke again. "What makes you so sure I seek revenge?"

"Come now, Mr. Kent. Surely you want Luthor to pay for sending you to that damn place?"

Clark's eyes lowered to gaze at the plate before him. He couldn't deny that making Luthor pay for sending him to Purgatory was the main thing on his mind these days. And it would be hilariously ironic to do so as someone else.

Devon saw the expression of concentration on Clark's face. He knew this man had thought often of revenge. But to think it out and carry through with it were two totally different things. "As I've said, Luthor has been giving me a significant amount of trouble for a matter of three years or so. Actually, it's been much longer than that..." The older man seemed lost in unpleasant memories for a few moments, though he quickly brought himself under contol. "But I digress... I decided late last year to have him researched in more detail than what is usually customary." He chuckled softly. "Most of the time, bad guys keep no more dirt than is necessary for their selfish purposes. I had unearthed a fair amount of that, but felt there was much, much more to my enemy than your standard profile. So… a little more digging produced you."

"Excuse my bluntness, but how is it you were able to find me when others haven't?" Clark felt he had to ask that question. After all, Lois was the best investigative reporter in the world. Why hadn't she found him?

"Mr. Kent, I travel in entirely different circles than your brilliant partner."

Clark almost spat his drink across the room.

"Relax. I'd hardly know about you without knowing about Lois Lane."

The young man wanted to ask more about that particular topic of conversation. At the same time, he remembered his promise to himself not to contact her. He would eventually check up on her. It was just too soon. He had to organize his raging emotions and his torturous thoughts.

"As I said, after a little digging… and some persuasion… I discovered what the evil Mr. Luthor did to you." He stopped to watch Clark. When the man showed no expression at all, he continued. "It wasn't easy to find you. You were supposed to be dead."

"What?"

"Luthor had given the order to have you executed. He called in quite few debts to get rid of you. One of those debts was with a certain power head in the underworld. He runs most of the smaller countries in the southeastern part of South America. He's known to the world as Diego."

Clark searched his frazzled mind for a moment before that name registered. Diego was supposedly the drug lord of the southern continent. When he and Lois had been working on the Thomas case, Perry's informant had led them to believe that a trail could be followed directly back to Diego's organization and hopefully to the kingpin himself. Of course, that tip had been a plant, orchestrated by Luthor.

Devon continued when he noticed Clark knew of whom he spoke. "Diego has never been one to take orders. He felt Luthor was giving them and decided it wouldn't hurt to keep a little insurance in case the need ever arose to use it."

"You mean he kept me alive to use against Luthor if the man ever got on his bad side?" Clark asked ruefully. Not only had he been one man's play-thing, he'd been two, possibly three.

"Yes," Devon answered soundly.

"And it helped that the man giving the orders would never know."

"That it did," Travis answered with a smile. "Word was passed along that you were taken care of and that was that. Luthor never bothered to check or decided Diego could be trusted because they both were member of the same brotherhood."

Clark thought about that for a moment. He had to admit he could clearly see the irony Devon had spoken of.

"Now you understand the irony." Devon smiled and took another sip of his drink.

"I may understand it from my point of view, but what will you get out of it?"

"The satisfaction of knowing that bastard slipped and someone discovered it." Sometime during his statement, his expression had grown grim. "Mr. Kent, you don't know the half of what I have endured at the hands of Lex Luthor."

"I think I have a good idea," Clark said sarcastically.

Once again, Devon's expression cleared. "I guess you do. That's why I chose you to help me carry out my plans."

"And those are?"

"Bring Luthor to his knees… expose his evil empire… then watch his face when he realizes his ugly past has reared its head to bite him on the ass." Devon let his head fall back and laughed fully.

As he watched the man, Clark couldn't help but picture the scene that had been described. Luthor would swallow his own tongue if he were to see the face of the man he had been so sure was sent away to be killed brutally.

Devon collected himself and addressed Clark again. "Tell me, Mr. Kent, why do you think Luthor sent you to that hell hole?"

That hit home with unforgiving force. He knew exactly why he'd been sent away, but that was a subject he was not about to discuss with this man. Never mind he owed his freedom to him.

Devon understood immediately. He knew what Luthor's motives had been. That, too, had been one heck of an ironic situation that still brought a smile to his face when he thought of it. However, he completely understood Clark's reluctance. He recognized it as an imaginary boundary that would not be breached and respected that.

"Understood, Mr. Kent. It will not be mentioned again. Now… will you help me?"

Clark didn't answer. Instead he stood and walked around the room. They were in a library, every wall was covered with shelves and filled with one of the most eclectic and rare collections of literature Clark had ever seen. He studied the titles all the while his mind ran the invitation around in his head.

If he took this man up on this, wouldn't that put him in the same class with Luthor? Quickly he decided that didn't matter because he no longer belonged to a class anymore. Luthor had seen to that. He'd seen to the end of his life as he knew it. Travis Devon offered him that new life he'd said he would create. Purgatory had turned him into someone he neither knew or respected. Did it matter what kind of life he created and lived out now? Hardly. Any kind of life was better than the one he'd lived inside those stone walls. That had been existence. And did it matter that he would live for the sole purpose of torturing another man? Why not? That man had done nothing less to him.

He faced Devon as a new light sparked in his dark eyes. "I love irony."

Devon smiled and rose to extend his hand to the younger man. "Welcome home… son."

tbc...