Abaris’ Arrow

by linda-seton

Chapter One

In answer to the Smallville Fanfiction Greek Mythology Challenge



A thin hand places a miniature tape recorder on the surface of a desk and hits play.

A man’s voice, bored and tired, begins, "March, 8th 1993. This is the fourth scheduled appointment I have had with Alexander Luthor. His father, Lionel Luthor, has cancelled and rescheduled for a variety of reasons. Luthor Sr. is just trying to establish who is really in charge of his son’s court mandated appointment with me."

There is a moment of blank tape and then the voice again.

"Could you please tell me your name, age and why you are here?"

"My name is Alexander Luthor and I’m almost fourteen. I’m here because my father decided it was easier just to send me for my psychological examination than to try to manufacture new excuses." The voice is remarkably mature for someone in his teens.

"Is that all?"

"All?"

"You are here because you violated penal code…"

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly violated…So, you deny it?"

"It? Do you even know what I was charged with?"

"You’ve cancelled on me three times already. I’ve read the file."

Lex’s sigh registers on the tape.

"I’m not your enemy, Alexander. I only want to help you."

"People who use the word ‘only’ are short-sighted." The boy’s voice cracks a little betraying his real age.

"As part of the agreement that was reached in your case you have to meet with me, the lucky court appointed psychologist. Let’s make this easy on both of us. You were charged with a crime and found guilty. Tell me about it?"

"I’m still not sure you’ve read the file but…" Lex begins what sounds like a very well-rehearsed speech, "I was arrested for shooting seven arrows off the balcony of my father’s penthouse apartment. No one was killed or injured. Four arrows lodged in trees in the park, one hit the side of a building on Fifth Street, one landed on the awning of a fruit stand and the last one struck the side of a horse drawn carriage near the park. Everyone who had their property damaged has been repaid."

"Why did you do it? Were you trying to hurt people?"

"What idiot would admit to wanting to hurt people? No. I just wanted to get rid of the arrows."

"Why?"

There is only silence in response. The doctor tries again.

"Where did you get the arrows?"

"My father gave them to me. When we still lived in the house. When my mother was alive."

"Do you miss her?"

"What kind of question is that? I expected more -- even from a psychologist who works for the city. I’ve talked about my mother’s death to a variety of psychiatrists. I don’t think you can offer any observations that they haven’t. Can we stay on topic?"

The doctor exhales. "Fine. Why were you so intent on getting rid of the arrows?"

"I didn’t want them anymore."

"Why?"

He does not answer and the doctor regroups.

"When not firing off of balconies are you a good shot?"

"Of course."

"Because your father wouldn’t have it any other way?"

"Nice. First my relationship with my mother and then my father. I’m a good shot because I wouldn’t have it any other way."

"Fair enough. But if you’re so skilled why get rid of the arrows?"

"You got nowhere approaching the subject from that angle last time. What do you hope to gain this time?"

"Another ulcer, apparently."

There’s a strained laugh from the boy.

"Tell me about how you got the arrows and presumably the bow."

"My father thought I was staying inside too much with my invalid mother. And he sent me outside to play with potentially lethal weapons."

"Which you mastered?"

"I’m bored."

"You’re bored just like that?"

"No, I’ve actually been bored for awhile. Almost every question that I’ve been asked has had the words ‘you’ or ‘your’ in it."

"Well, this meeting is about you."

"I thought it was about the arrows?"

There’s a momentary pause and the doctor tries again.

"What made the arrows so important?"

"A-B-A-R-I-S."

"Abaris?"

"My father gave me the arrows and a book on Greek mythology. A book for children. Remarkably similar to the one on the shelf above your desk."

There’s the scuff of a chair and the shuffling sound of the doctor moving across the room. He returns and his chair creaks under his weight. Pages are thumbed through and then he reads.

"Abaris, a priest who fled to Greece to avoid a plague. Apollo gave him a golden arrow that had the ability to cure diseases and make the possessor of it invisible."

There is a fairly long pause and then the doctor starts, " So, you…" He cuts himself off and tries again. "The arrows didn’t cure Mrs. Luthor’s illness?"

"Very good, Doctor. You immediately jumped to the right conclusion and also managed not to use the phrase ‘your mother’." There is a shifting sound and Lex resumes speaking. "My mother died with one of the arrows under her bed."

"It was only a myth, a story, Alexander. I understand how someone…"

"Please go back to using ‘you’, this is getting tedious." His voice is very uneven.

"You were powerless to save your mother, Alexander. I can understand how you hoped the arrow would cure your mother but it was only a myth. It couldn’t work."

"But it did work, Doctor."

There is a long moment of blank tape.

"What do you mean? How did it work?"

"After my mother died I kept the arrow. I carried it with me. When I slept it was under my bed. And my father stopped talking to me."

There is the rustle of paper. "The arrow made you invisible."

"My father and I left the house and moved to the penthouse. We share 5000 square feet of space and rarely speak."

"I’ve seen your father’s photograph in the newspapers. The tabloids. There are always women…"

"They’re not women, Doctor. They’re girls. A woman implies that the person is my father’s equal. Like my mother. The models, actresses, would-be socialites that my father sees are just girls. Completely unimportant." Lex’s voice cracks and he clears his throat.

"Of course there’s no way for anyone to replace your mother, Alexander." Another long silence and the doctor tries again, "Do you ever have contact with these ‘girls’? Does he bring them to your home?"

"There’s a steady stream of them. None of them matter." His voice warbles again.

The doctor presses, "Do you talk to any of them?"

There’s a prolonged silence. Lex clears his throat.

"Only one, really. She seemed nice."

"Tell me about her."

"We passed in the hallway one morning. She was pretty. I usually don’t think brunettes are pretty. She made me breakfast and we talked."

"It must have been nice to not be invisible."

Lex sighs audibly. "A little obvious."

"Well, it must have been nice to have someone to talk with who wasn’t on your father’s payroll."

Lex laughs. "Not officially you mean." There is a pause. "She kissed me."

"I’m assuming that it wasn’t like a mother’s kiss?"

Lex laughs again. "No. Hardly." He grows silent. "We…" He trails off.

"You had intercourse with her?"

"Yes."

There is a long pause and then the sound of movement.

"But I wanted to. It wasn’t like she did anything to me. I wanted to."

"Did you tell your father?"

"Yes."

"What was his reaction?"

"He didn’t have one. He continued to see her for the time he usually allots and then moved on. She was three girls ago."

"Did that make you angry?"

"My father’s lack of reaction? No. His moving on to a new conquest? Also no."

"Alexander…"

"I’d like to go to the bathroom. May I?"

The tape goes silent and then resumes with a click.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"My trip to the men’s room?"

"No, your sexual encounter."

"I could say no and we’d continue to talk and you’d keep circling back to it. Let’s get it over with. What do you want to know?"

"Were you frightened?"

"She didn’t rape me, Doctor. I was a willing participant. It was a little different than what I expected but it was fine."

"Different, how?"

There is a pause and Lex takes two small breaths before answering. "Going into it I thought it would be more like something in a book. Kind of weightless. Detached. Drier."

"And it was after you had sex that you shot the arrows off the balcony?"

"No, it was after I told my father."

The sound of an intercom buzzes and the doctor responds angrily, "Yes."

"Mr. Luthor’s father has arrived for his son." A woman’s voice responds.

There is a creak of a chair and Lex’s voice is a little fainter. "It was nice to talk with you, Doctor. You seem perfectly civil in your civil servant kind of way."

"Alexander?"

"I have to go. My father, not a lackey, is here."

"But, the arrows…"

"I just wanted to get rid of Abaris’ arrow."

There is the sound of a door being opened.

"It was nice to meet you Doctor. I won’t be back." There is a silence and then Lex offers, "But if you continue your perusal of the tabloids you might see me there."

The door closes with a soft thud and the tape goes to static.

A hand reaches forward and turns the tape player off.

Captured in a halo of light by a small desk lamp, Chloe Sullivan exhales. She scans the dark corners of her bedroom just to make sure she is still alone.

She refocuses on the collection of documents and about fifty additional tapes on her desk. A press badge for the Metropolis Inquisitor featuring Roger Nixon’s grinning photo rests near her elbow.

Chloe had spent three long months investigating the very dead Nixon. A chance email had led her to one of Nixon’s ex-wives and now…

Chloe moves out of the light and leans against the wall. She had read all of the court papers that Nixon had accumulated including Lex’s juvenile record and a few skin-crawly things about Lionel Luthor.

And she had listened to one tape.

Chloe forces herself to move back to the desk. Public records – even those of a sealed juvenile record variety – are very different things than these tapes. She rifles through them. Each tape bears a label with a single name and a date.

"Probably, the doctor." Chloe says it aloud just to break the silence.

So many tapes. She rubs her temples. Nixon had probably listened to everything and taken copious notes. Nixon? Chloe had found out enough about the man to appreciate why people hate journalists. Nixon wasn’t interested in finding out the truth; he was only interested in gaining the advantage.

Having a logical mind, Chloe knows she is rationalizing. Nixon is evil because of his motives but she is completely innocent in this whole thing because she only wanted to find the truth.

Yippee, the truth.

"Great epitaph," Chloe murmurs.

She fans herself feeling her face flush. Listening to that tape was completely unethical. Now, all she wants is to do the right thing.

But what is it? Take the tapes to the backyard BBQ and ignite them? And leave Lex wondering what had happened to the tapes. Return them to Lex with a mumbled apology about having only listened to one tape? Oh, yes, let’s return the tapes to the guy who put a bullet through the person who last had possession of them.

Ultimately, Chloe realizes that if Lex ever looks for the tapes he will find his way to her. And her LexCorp employed father.

Pacing back and forth, Chloe tries to come to some kind of decision. She stops and closes her eyes. She needs help. And the only person she can think of is Clark. He might be a lousy date but Clark has an infallible moral compass. You need the right thing done, ask Clark. And he knows Lex. Maybe he’ll have some insight.

She checks her watch. It’s almost 9:30. She reaches for the phone.

"Hello, Clark. No, I’m not really okay. I have these tapes that belonged to Roger Nixon…and I don’t know what to do."


~oo00oo~
Chapter Two: Abaris' Arrow

by linda-seton


"Nixon's tapes?" Clark asks loudly enough to cause Jonathan Kent to practically slide into the kitchen.

"Son?"

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Clark listens to Chloe for a few seconds and then nods. "Let me ask my Dad."

"Clark?"

Clark cups the phone with his hand and looks to the clearly panicked Jonathan. "It's Chloe. She got a hold of some tapes that Roger Nixon had. And she wants to see me so we can talk about them."

Jonathan nods his head before he speaks. "Tell her you'll be right over."

Clark lifts the phone back to his mouth. "I can come right over. What? Okay, I'm sure that'll be fine. I'll meet you there."

Clark hangs up the phone and turns to his father. "She asked me to meet her at The Torch. She has to delete emails or something."

"That's actually good." Jonathan turns in a half circle. "Clark, you've been over to the Sullivan house. Do they have a spare key?"

"What? You can't break into Chloe's house!"

"Look, Son, if we had any other choice..."

"I can try to talk to her. Get her to give me the tapes."

"We both know that won't work. It was a struggle for Pete not to go to the press. Do you think Chloe would even hesitate to break the biggest story of all time?"

Clark shakes his head and looks down at his shoes. "They have a key under one of those yard things. It's a frog at a typewriter." Suddenly realizing something, he glances up at his father. "But what about Chloe's father?"

"Gabe Sullivan is in Metropolis. He's stuck at that same meeting as your mother."

"Maybe we should call Mom?" Clark asks hopefully. His father in half-crazed mode without his mom to talk him down is scary. "I think we should definitely call her."

"We don't have time. Go to The Torch and keep Chloe there for an hour. It's pretty much equal distance to the Sullivan's place and to the school. If I can't find the tapes in fifty minutes then we'll have to try something else."

"But even if you do get the tapes, Chloe will tell people..."

"But if she doesn't have the tapes no one will believe her." Jonathan faces his son and lays both hands on the boy's shoulders to steady him. "We have no choice."

Clark reluctantly nods his head in agreement.


~oo00oo~
Chapter Three:Abaris' Arrow

by linda-seton



Alone in the dark office of The Torch, Chloe navigates from the printer to the computer by the light of the monitor. She scans through her newly printed pages -- the emails between Chloe and Nixon's ex-wife - and then slides them into a manila envelope. She checks to make sure the emails are deleted from the computer system and then she puts her head down on the desk.

There's the sound of footsteps and she straightens. She hides the envelope in her bag and turns off the monitor.

Clark Kent steps into the dark office and softly calls out, "Chloe?"

"I'm here."

Clark switches on the lights and Chloe almost shouts at him. "Turn those off."

Clark obeys and stands against the door. "Chloe?"

She turns the computer monitor on and it throws a strange glowing light across her face.

"Is something wrong?" Clark asks.

"Just a little paranoid." She snuffles.

"Have you been crying?"

She does not answer and Clark eases over to the desk. He sits across from her. "You wanted to talk about the tapes?"

"I'm so stupid, Clark. You have to believe me that when I started investigating Nixon I never knew where it would lead."

"It's alright, Chloe."

"No, it's pretty far from anything remotely resembling alright. I'm afraid."

Clark leans closer. "No one is going to hurt you."

Chloe staggers to her feet and away from Clark. She is crying and doesn't want him to see.

Clark assumes that she is afraid of him and sits back in his chair.

Chloe sniffs. "I just can't shake the idea that I'm going to be walking along and suddenly I'm dead. Did you know that you can bleed to death in a matter of seconds if someone even nicks your liver?"

"Chloe! He'd never do that!" Clark offers with a fair amount of certainty. His father would never stab anyone.

"You know him better than I do Clark. What should I do?" Chloe asks the question even though she knows Clark's view of Lex is more than a little biased.

"You're fine. It's just the tapes..."

"The tapes. I don't know what to do with them. I just want to destroy them."

Clark exhales a little. "You don't want to go to the newspapers?"

Chloe fights to focus. "What, The Inquisitor? A real newspaper wouldn't touch this stuff."

"You think so?"

"This is strictly tabloid fare, Clark."

Clark looks a little hurt. He had always believed that being an alien from another planet would merit front-page coverage in every paper. He smiles. Actually it is kind of a relief to find out Chloe doesn't think it is a big deal. "I'm sorry Chloe that I didn't tell you sooner."

"You knew about the tapes?"

Clark nods.

"So, he knows too? That Nixon had the tapes?"

"Yes."

"Then, Clark, the only thing I can do is give the tapes to Lex."

"What?" Clark is on his feet. He bumps the desk hard as he rushes over to Chloe. "You can't!"

"Do you want to talk to him first?" Chloe takes a breath and suddenly feels calm. A decision has been made. Chloe realizes that if Clark already knows about Lex's psych tapes then he can broach the subject without too much difficulty.

"Ah..." Clark finally manages in response. He tries to think of a way to tell Lex that their entire friendship has been built around a lie. No, there's nothing special about Clark except, well, the superhuman speed and strength and the seeing through walls and...

Chloe snaps him out of his reverie with a voice bordering on happy. "It definitely would be better if you went to Lex about the tapes. It'd be less of a shock." She goes up on tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

Clark just stands there. He tilts his head to the side. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Earlier this evening I was ready to be certified by FEMA as a disaster area. Now, thanks to you, I'm back on track. Clark, I thought that finding out the truth in this case was going to hurt a lot of people. And maybe it still will. It's just that lying about this will only make it worse."

"Oh."

Chloe grabs her bag off the computer desk and backs toward the door. Clark stands rigidly still trying to process the information. "Are you okay, Clark?"

"I guess."

"Don't forget to talk to Lex. I'm going to try to see him tomorrow afternoon. And, Clark..."

"What?"

"Thanks for your help."

Chloe is out the door and a shocked Clark remains. He glances up at the wall clock and realizes he has been with Chloe all of twenty minutes.

"Dad!"


~oo00oo~
Chapter Four: Abaris' Arrow.

Clark races out into the parking lot just in time to watch Chloe’s car cruise onto the road.

He takes half a step forward to speed off.

"Mr. Kent!"

Clark stumbles and turns to face Mr. Hoffman, the yawning school security guard.

"We got a report some lights were on. Were you in the school?"

"Yes, sir. I was in The Talon office." Clark glances in the direction that Chloe’s car had disappeared.

Hoffman shakes his head. "Were you here with that little blonde?"

"Yes, Chloe just left."

"That girl really needs a boyfriend."

Clark shifts from foot to foot. "Is it okay if I go?"

"I’ve got to call this in Mr. Kent. You mind walking back to the office with me?"

Clark’s shoulders sag as he follows Hoffman back into the school. He’s probably not going to be the only Kent nabbed by the police this evening.

Across town in the Sullivan house, Jonathan Kent surveys by flashlight the damage he has done to Chloe’s room. What started out as a systematic search has turned into an overturned bed, strewn books and scattered clothing.

Jonathan shifts uncomfortably as he tries to get a pair of panties off his boot. The tapes are definitely not in Chloe’s room.

He heads out into the hallway just as the front door begins to open.

Flipping off his flashlight, he freezes in place. With the only light coming from a streetlight, Jonathan catches a glimpse of face and blonde hair in the doorway.

Clark is an idiot. It’s only been about half an hour.

Chloe steps inside and starts to close the door. She immediately senses she is not alone. Her first impulse is to run but she knows that if this is a hired assassin of the Luthor clan she’ll be dead before she reaches her car.

It’s better to stay and fight in familiar surroundings.

She closes the door behind her and eases over to the wall of the hallway. Straining to hear the intruder’s breathing, she closes the distance between them.

Jonathan Kent stands motionless. He has no idea where Chloe is in relation to him or the door. He starts forward and his shoulder collides with the girl’s outstretched hand. He knows he has to get out of this and if it means pushing the girl to the floor and running…

Chloe braces her feet and shoves her fist into Jonathan’s abdomen. Her tumble out of a third story window had inspired her to take an entire summer’s worth of Krav Maga self-defense classes. She’s prepared to deal with an intruder.

Jonathan stumbles. Chloe grabs him by the throat and uses his weight against him to pin him against a wall. Thrashing around, he gags for air.

A desperate Jonathan kicks out and knocks Chloe off balance. Before she can get her hands on him again he drops and fast crawls for the door. He wrenches the door open and rolls out onto the sidewalk.

He runs for all he is worth.

Chloe stumbles out and watches as a shadowy figure disappears over a neighbor’s fence.

With adrenaline pumping, Chloe kneels down, scoops up a rock and throws it in the general direction of the retreating form.

She stands just outside the house for a few moments and then starts to shake.

She stumbles back into the house and fumbles the lock into place. Crying in little half gasps, she sinks to the floor with her back against the door.

Lex had really sent someone after the tapes. Was it possible that Clark had already told him? That Lex had called some 24-hour dial a thug service? No, that didn’t make sense. Lex must have already known about the tapes. So, Clark going to him and telling that Chloe had them was going to look like she was reacting to the burglary.

Great. Just great.

Chloe wipes away tears and struggles to concentrate. Checking her bag, she makes sure the tapes are still there.

She slides up the door to a standing position and moves toward her room. With an unsteady hand, she flips on the light.

Chloe’s marginally organized world has been thrown into chaos. Shutting the door, she wades into the piles of books and clothes.

Knowing she has to get things back to something bordering on normal before her father gets home, she sets to work.


~oo00oo~
Chapter Five

Pacing in the family kitchen, Clark swings around and knocks the phone off the counter. He half pounces on the handset and checks to make sure the phone has a dial tone. He doesn’t want his dad to stay a full night in jail.

Then he hears keys turning in the lock.

"Dad?"

He rushes over and throws open the door.

Martha smiles at her son. "Clark." She knows immediately something is wrong. "Clark, what’s happened?"

"Nothing."

"Where’s your father?"

"Out checking on the cows." Clark is not a good liar but this one comes naturally. He shuts the door and squirms a little under his mother’s gaze before asking, "How was Metropolis?"

"The meeting went well."

Just then there is a scraping sound and Clark slings open the door. Jonathan Kent, clutching his stomach with one arm, leans against the door facing.

"Jonathan!" Martha rushes toward him as he stumbles inside. Exhausted, he tries to smile at her but all she notices are the angry red and blue bruises on his throat. "What happened?"

"Nothing." He drags himself inside and with a great deal of effort straightens.

"Nothing? Clark, what happened?" Martha turns on her son who merely blinks at her. Shaking her head, she steps back and notices a pair of women’s panties caught in Jonathan’s boot. "Nothing?" She reaches around her husband and retrieves the undergarments. "These are nothing?"

"Those are Chloe’s." Clark offers none too helpfully.

Martha tries to process the information. "What?"

Clark rambles, "Chloe gotta hold of tapes that Nixon had of me. And I went to talk to her at The Torch while Dad broke into her house to get the tapes."

Martha’s jaw drops. "Did Gabe know it was you?"

"Ahm, no lights were on. And Gabe wasn’t home."

"Chloe beat you up?" Clark asks.

"It’s not like I could fight back." Jonathan immediately changes the subject. "You promised me Clark that you’d keep her at the school for an hour."

"I know, but she…" Clark trails off. He stands there studying both his parents. "She said she was taking the tapes to Lex."

"What?"

"Why would she give the tapes to Lex?" Martha touches Clark’s arm. "It’s Chloe. She’d go straight to the newspapers with her story. Why go through the Luthor’s?"

"I don’t know, Mom. That’s what she told me. She gave me a chance to tell Lex first." Clark falters. "I think I should."

"No!" Jonathan almost doubles over.

"Help me get your father up to bed Clark. We’ll talk about this in the morning."

Clark moves around his father and half-carries him toward the stairs.


~oo00oo~
Chapter Six

Chloe huffs for breath as she flips her mattress back into place. She collapses on the bed and shuts her eyes. She considers the emotional train wreck her day has been -- from happy about receiving the Nixon packet to terrified to relieved. Now she is exhausted and oddly resigned.

Chloe sits up. If she’s going to be murdered…

She grabs her bag from beside the bed and dumps the contents on the mattress. She chooses a tape at random and puts in the tape player.

What had seemed like a horrible intrusion now somehow seems justified. Someone had just attacked her in her home and spent an inordinate amount of time going through the bureau that held her undergarments.

She presses play.

The tape crackles to life. An older woman’s voice mutters, "I can never tell when this thing is going. You’d think someone with a degree in psychiatry could figure out how to use a tape recorder. I’m more a notes gal but for legal reasons… "

"May I?" Lex asks and there is soft scrape as the tape recorder is moved. "It’s working."

"Thank God. And how is your stay with us working out for you?"

"Fine."

"I’m going to smoke. You won’t tell, will you?"

"The tape?"

"Smart-ass. I’m smoking anyway." There is a soft rustle of paper. "According to the staff you’ve had 612 calories over the last two weeks."

"I’ve been really trying…"

The doctor stutter laughs. "You’d be in a coma if you had only had six hundred calories in that amount of time. Margo, the girl who works in the kitchen, says you’ve been eating about two thousand calories every evening. And you really like chocolate cake and lemon meringue pie."

"I don’t really like pie. I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings."

"Thanks for playing along Alexander. Your father will probably appreciate all the charts and graphs we can offer him about you starving yourself."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"About your nocturnal kitchen ingestions? Hardly. I like to give the impression that I’ve earned my money. Leading you away from starvation and toward four square meals."

"I think you’re fast becoming my favorite counselor of all time." His voice sounds remarkably relaxed.

"Well, if you want to take some real advice from your favorite doc then get your hands on as much cash as possible and depart for parts unknown."

"You’re encouraging me to run away?"

"I think some of my colleagues might argue the point but I think escaping from something and running away from something are two completely different things."

"And my father is something from which to escape?"

"Your father is a sick…I shouldn’t say it. On tape at least. From our last session remember when I asked you how you had come up with your alias for your hospital check in? And you did your "I’m smarter than you are" dance? I found out whom Julian was and that it was your father who signed you in under that name. You’ve got to get away from him, Lex."

There is a long pause and then a sigh. "Even if I wanted to, do you think I could?"

"You’re the only person on the planet who I think could outmaneuver Lionel. Maybe you’re just not ready yet." There’s a rattle of paper. "Only fifteen. You seem like fifty. Be sure to pick your own college."

"It sounds like you think I’m cured?"

"Oh, you have anorexia like I, with my ample ass, have anorexia."

Lex laughs.

"You father just wanted to embarrass you by putting you in this place. At home you were probably staggering your meals so you wouldn’t have to eat when he wanted you to eat. And he just wanted to prove to you that he could make you eat any time he wanted. Sound familiar?"

"In so many ways."

"I personally have to thank you for not sleeping your way through the bulimia wing."

"No one really appealed to me."

"Keep it that way. You don’t need to fall into a series of relationships with girls who abuse themselves because they can never live up to what mommy or daddy want. I can see that happening to you pretty easily."

"Why?"

"Well, you can relate to their situation of course. Why else do you think?"

Lex remains silent.

"You’ve got a good heart Alexander. And I think you’re more than strong enough to save yourself. You know you are. A little bruised maybe, but strong when it counts. And you want to help people so you’re more than likely to fall for someone who needs a lot of help."

"Who should I fall in love with?"

"If I were fifty years younger you’d have to watch out."

Lex laughs again.

"Whenever the girls leave here I always make them promise to keep food diaries and start making lists of emotional triggers about their eating. Raise your hand."

"What? In the taking-an-oath position? All right."

There’s a shifting sound that presumably accompanies the pledge.

"Alexander Luthor…aka Lex…solemnly swears to get away from his father as soon as he can. He also promises that he won’t fall in love with any tragic heroines."

"I swear." There’s the sound of a shifting. "And as fond of you as I am Dr. Steeves I also swear I’m never going to end up in another of these treatment centers. Let me get that for you." There’s a scraping sound and the tape goes to static.

Sprawled on her bed, Chloe turns the tape off and blindly reaches for another.

~oo00oo~
Chapter Seven

The tape squeals to life and a man's voice speaks directly into a microphone.

"December 12th, 1996, John Doe A231-56T7..."

Another voice interrupts. "C'mon, everyone in Metropolis knows who this kid is."

"John Doe A231-56T7 was brought in at 1:32 AM. When admitted his blood work showed trace amounts of methamphetamine. His blood pressure was low and he was severely dehydrated. Doctors put him on an IV...The label's turned. Can you....don't twist it like that. Never mind. The doctors expect a full recovery. John Doe A231-56T7 was dropped outside the door of the emergency room without ID..."

"Except his face and the chrome dome?"

"Look, according to our new training manual he's John Doe until someone who is a friend or family member identifies him right?"

"You know I can't read."

"Well, it does. And we have to take photos of him to distribute to all the law enforcement people. Or we're breaking the rules and you won't have this job after tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Help me get his pants off."

"What?"

"We have to check for any tattoos or scars."

"I guess."

The two men huff and strain and there's the scuff of clothing being removed.

"You can practically see right through him." The second man comments.

"Meth-head. Get me the camera."

There's the sound of footsteps going and then returning.

"Thanks."

The rhythm of the shutter and flash practically echo off the wall of the room.

"How many are you taking?"

"You know I've always wanted to move to Coast City."

"What?"

"I take a few extra. This guy at The Inquisitor told me that anytime anyone good came in to take some pictures. And this kid will probably get me a new start."

The sound of the camera stops and the men are silent.

"What's wrong?"

"Help me get his boxers."

"No way. He's just a kid. Like you could go to prison for that."

"Hold the camera."

"Man. I'm so outta here."

"I'll cut you in. You can repay your sister all that money she loaned you.

There is a long pause. "How much do you think it'll be?"

"A lot."

There is scuffle of movement and then the first man's voice. "Give me the camera. And stand back. You're casting a shadow."

The shutter and flash resume.

"I think he's waking up."

There is silence again.

"His eyes are open."

"Let's get out of here."

The sound of running feet is caught on the tape and then the slamming of the door.

There's a soft cough and a very faint, though recognizable voice, "Hello..."

The coughing grows louder and then there's a shifting of weight.

"Where am I? Is there anyone here?"

The tape goes to silence and Chloe stares down at the spinning cogs. "Bastards."

She rolls over on her back and stares up at the ceiling tile. "Oh, just when I'm ready to hate him completely. Great..."

Her eyes slowly close and she dozes.

The shrill sound of a ringing phone jolts her to a sitting position. It takes her a moment but she finds the phone on the floor. With a sweeping hand she hits the speaker button.

"Yes?"

"Is this Chloe Sullivan?"

Chloe rolls over on her stomach so she is closer to the phone. "This is she."

"I'm calling from Smallville Medical Center. Your father, Gabe, is all right but he was in a minor car accident."

Chloe tries to get her brain and mouth to work.

"Are you there, dear?"

"Yes, what happened to my dad?"

"He was a little rattled when they brought him. He thinks someone ran him off the road."

"I'll be right there."

Chloe presses off the speaker button.

She takes a series of breaths to steady herself and then begins to gather her things. She sweeps all the tapes into her bag and moves to the door.

"I actually felt sorry for him...bastard..."

She slams the door behind her.

~oo00oo~
Chapter Eight

Chloe locks the door of the house behind her and hustles down the sidewalk toward her car. She notices
the rivulets of orange cutting across the dark blue horizon. It is dawn and she hasn't slept in forever.

She fights with the door and manages to slide behind the wheel of her car. Concentrating on each action,
Chloe puts the key in the ignition, revs the car to life and begins her journey to the hospital.

Rolling down the window, she edges out a few inches and lets the cool air revive her. After a moment she
settles back behind the wheel.

She extends her hand and her fingers rest on the radio dial. She glances over at her bag and then digs out a
random tape. She fumbles the recorder and hits fast forward and rewind indiscriminately before managing
to find play.

A male voice, with a sort of sergeant-at-bootcamp quality, rattles on, "Let me see if I have all the details.
Your friends, if you want to call them that, were picked up a few blocks from the accident. All tested
positive for heroin and XTC. And all of them said you were driving. You rich kids are always the same.
Denying responsibility."

There is the sound of someone drinking water.

"I was driving. And I hadn't been using either heroin or ecstasy."

"No, but you had, what? $5,000 worth of cocaine in your system and in your pockets?"

"Closer to $10,000, actually."

"Are you getting off on this?"

"Talking to you? Hate to disappoint you, but not really."

There's the sound of something heavy striking the table and rattling the tape recorder.

Lex sighs. "Very nice. There's nothing like a pointless display of violence to inspire me to tell the truth. I
have a feeling you're not going to believe me no matter what I say."

"Try me."

"What do you want to know?"

"How it happened."

"Which 'it'? My acquiring the cocaine? The party? The accident?"

"Why cocaine, Lex? Isn't that a little 1982?"

"I'm guessing, just guessing mind you, that hashish is probably your drug of choice." There is no response
and Lex continues. "People who smoke a lot of pot have your same problem keeping on topic."

"As opposed to someone on coke?"

"I'm doing my best to answer your questions."

"Right. But you didn't answer my question."

"Which, 'why cocaine' or 'where I got the cocaine' or 'the party' or 'the accident'?"

There is a long pause.

"You're all the same." There's the sound of paper being shuffled. "How about these pictures? She went
completely through the windshield."

There is a prolonged silence and when Lex speaks his voice has a monotone quality. "I didn't find out her
name until about a week afterwards. She had just met..."

"Jude Royce. We got that from one of the waiters at the party."

"She had just met Jude and we all decided to leave the party and go to a club."

"And you decided to drive rather than take a cab."

"Cab drivers, like waiters, talk to reporters."

"So, this was all about keeping your name out of the paper?"

"Yes. It really worked didn't it?"

"Do you think this is funny?"

"No."

"Tell me about the accident, Lex. Or as much as you remember of it."

There is the stuttering sound of a chair being moved and then Lex begins, "We were making the turn onto a
one way street, 28th. The business district at 2:30AM is completely deserted and when you come off of
Wilcox you've got that steep dip and that long, rolling incline toward the river."

"You were going 97 miles per hour when the police first spotted you. Did you ever even see the patrol
car?"

"No, all I saw..." Lex trails off. There is a good two minutes of silence and then he begins again. "We
were midway down 28th and I noticed them for the first time."

"What?"

"Did you know that painted on the curb the entire length of 28th Street are directional arrows. They're
about a foot long, yellow reflective paint."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"They were apparently put there in the 1920s and the Historical Society repaints them every other July.
And as I was driving I just kept looking to the right and to the left. Watching each individual arrow flow
into the next."

"All very pretty but meaningless, Lex."

"That's what cocaine is for me doctor. You asked after all. Unless you've lost interest in that question.
Cocaine allowed me to see each individual arrow and not just the smear of a pattern. Cocaine offered me a
sense of clarity. And that's all I've ever really wanted."

"And what you wanted to cost Veronica Sellars her life."

"I was trying to tell Jude about the arrows. I looked into the backseat and I saw him unbuckle Veronica's
seatbelt and pull her over into his lap. I looked ahead and we were at the end of the street. All I could see
were the three arrows painted at the point where 28th merges with Weyburn. I could go straight out onto
the bridge or veer to the right or left. I tried to go straight, lost control and the car slammed into the metal
pylons at the entrance of the bridge."

"And you were the only one not hurt."

Lex says nothing and the doctor drums his fingers on the table.

The sound is mirrored by the soft thud of the tires of Chloe's car going over the speed bump in the parking
lot of the medical center. She clicks off the tape and manages to squeeze her car into a spot near the
entrance.

Half dragging her bag behind her, she staggers away the car and runs toward the entrance.

Chloe throws open the door of the emergency room and rushes toward the front desk. A sleepy-eyed nurse
looks up at her.

"My father, Gabe Sullivan..."

"You must be Chloe. He was really concerned about you when he was first brought in." The nurse rises
and beckons Chloe to follow.

The two women stop outside the door of one of the hospital rooms. Chloe sees her father through the glass
panel in the door. A sleeping Gabe Sullivan has a cast on his right arm and a series of scratches on his face.

"Dad?"

"He's fine. The doctors used a mild sedative to help him rest. It's fast approaching visiting hours so if you
want to sit with him..."

Chloe has already opened the door and stepped inside before the nurse can finish the sentence. The girl
grabs a chair from near the doorway and plants it at her father's bedside. He stirs but does not wake.

Chloe gently pulls the blanket up and over Gabe's exposed hands.

"What have I gotten us into to, Dad?" She asks softly.

~oo00oo~
Chapter Nine

Standing in the early morning shadow of the Luthor house, Clark Kent wipes his hands against the legs of
his jeans. He is so nervous his palms are actually sweating. He glances down at his wristwatch. It's 8:32.
Exactly three minutes since the last time he looked.

He takes a breath and begins his march toward the door.

"Clark?"

He whips around to face Lex who has just emerged from the garages of the estate.

"Is something wrong?"

Clark shakes his head 'no' but says, "Sort of."

"Why don't you come in and 'sort of' tell me what's happened."

Clark smiles nervously and trails after his friend as Lex opens the door of the main house.

~oo00oo~
Chapter Ten.

In a move of practiced grace, Lex drops into the chair behind his desk. Clark shifts from foot to foot in front of him.

"What’s wrong, Clark?"

"I had no idea of how hard this was going to be."

The boy grows very still but makes no effort to speak.

Finally, Lex prompts, "Just start at the beginning, Clark."

"I have to tell you something, something I should have told you from the start but I couldn’t."

"So, this is Clark Kent’s deep, dark secret?"

"It’s not so much of a secret anymore. Pete knows, Chloe knows…"

"I’m glad you consider me enough of a friend to trust me, Clark." Lex interlaces his finger and leans forward. Studying Clark’s face, Lex tries to determine how hard he is going to have to work to make the young man talk.

Clark pivots and backs off a few steps. He finely offers, "I’m a little, a lot, different than anyone else in Smallville."

"All of Smallville?" Lex asks with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Probably the whole world."

"I was sixteen once, too, Clark. It’s not that unusual to feel a little separated from the world at large."

Clark looks baffled. "No, I’m really separated from the world."

"You’re otherworldly?" Lex asks with a laugh.

"Exactly." Clark blushes three varying shades of crimson and then smiles in relief. That wasn’t as hard as he had thought. "You know I don’t have many friends. And my dad would never let me do much stuff at school – like sports. Y’know, in case someone figured it out."

"Oh." Lex murmurs as he realizes what the blushing Clark is trying to tell him. "I’ve always had my suspicions. I just didn’t want to bring it up."

"I thought you might. With all the stuff that’s happened."

"I mean there’s the Chloe-Lana situation." Lex shakes his head. "You have a perfectly lovely young woman actively pursuing you and you opt for the unobtainable homecoming queen – because after all she’s what every ‘normal’ adolescent male wants."

Clark tilts his head to the side. He opens his mouth just as the phone rings.

A startled Lex apologizes. "I’m sorry. I have to get that. Only emergency calls come to this line."

Lex picks up the receiver and listens for a moment. "I’ll be right there, thank you." He hangs up the phone. "I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this conversation later. That was the hospital. Gabe Sullivan was in a car accident last night."

"Is he okay?"

"Nothing serious, apparently, but I want to see if there is anything I can do to help."

Clark nods and follows Lex toward the door.

"We can pick up our conversation later Clark. And thank you for feeling that you can trust me. I only imagine how difficult it is to be a gay teenager in a place the size of Smallville."

Lex hurries out of his office.

A dumbstruck Clark stops in his tracks and mutters to no one in particular, "I’m not gay."

~oo00oo~
Chapter Eleven
Abaris’ Arrow

by linda-seton



Slumped in the hospital room chair with her feet braced against Gabe’s bed, Chloe starts awake. She had just had some sort of nightmare about Lex and a cat that played pinochle.

And then she hears Lex’s voice outside the hospital room door.

Forcing herself to stand, she pads across the floor in her sock feet. She can see Lex, a well-rested and presumably showered Lex, through the blinds covering the window of the door.

She glances at her sleeping father. He looks so pale under the hospital fluorescents which highlight every scratch and bruise. And the only reason he is in that bed is because she crossed the man just outside the room.

She slams open the door and turns all her frustration and anger on a hapless Lex.

"Chloe?"

"Get out of here! Now!"

Lex actually glances behind him to see if she really means him. "Chloe, is your father…"

"My father is fine. No thanks to you. Get out!"

She points toward the door and Lex reaches for her hand to try to calm her.

She reacts by punching him in the jaw.

Bewildered, he just blinks at her. There is no tensing of the shoulders, no instinctual forming of a fist. He’s not the type who would hit an obviously terrified girl.

Lex retreats a few hesitant steps and then with a strange I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing smirk turns on his heels and hurries down the hospital corridor. He does not glance back as he shoves open the exit door.

Chloe squints as he vanishes in the harsh glow of the morning sun.

Cradling her freshly bruised hand against her stomach, Chloe turns back toward her father’s room. She catches sight of Jonathan Kent being helped through the doorway of the Emergency Room by Martha and an orderly.

Chloe takes a step forward just as a doctor rushes toward the hurt man. The doctor gently lifts Jonathan’s chin and Chloe can clearly see the bruises on his throat. She looks down at her hand and retreats back to her father’s room before the Kents spot her.

Chloe hovers just inside the doorway of Gabe’s room watching through the blinds as the Kents pass. The bruises are fairly unmistakable. Is it possible that Jonathan Kent broke into her house? And why?

"Chloe?" Gabe murmurs softly.

"Dad, you’re awake!" Chloe rushes to his bedside and touches his arm. "Of course you’re awake or you wouldn’t be talking."

"That’s my girl. Great powers of observation." He laughs softly.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I just remember driving and glancing off the road. And then blam, scrape, unconscious in that backyard of the Sutcliffs." Gabe sits up a little in bed and forces a smile. "I dozed off behind the wheel. I was lucky I didn’t hurt anyone."

"When they brought you in you said someone ran you off the road."

"I told them I ran myself off the road, honey. There wasn’t another car for miles."

"Oh," Chloe exhales and sits down beside the bed. "I thought someone was trying to kill you."

"Sorry to spoil your exclusive but I was just exhausted after the meeting in Metropolis. And that long drive back here." Gabe yawns. "Have you been here all night?"

"Since they brought you in."

"Go home and get some rest. I’ll call you if I need anything. Scat." He reaches out and squeezes Chloe’s wounded hand.

She flinches but smiles. "Can do." She kisses Gabe gently on the forehead as he dozes off again. Sliding on her shoes, she grabs her bag from the floor and slips out to the hallway.

She rushes toward her car without spotting a single Kent.

She had assumed that the day before was going to ultimately be the strangest day of her life. Surprise. Things just got stranger.

She slides behind the wheel of her car and tries to find a coherent thought buried beneath all the stress, hunger and sleep deprivation.

All thoughts lead to one newly smacked face.

She starts her car and begins her journey to the Luthor house.


~oo00oo~
Chapter Twelve: Conclusion.
Abaris’ Arrow

by linda-seton



With a blue water bottle pressed to his wounded cheek, Lex flips through Gabe Sullivan’s personnel file. The intercom on his desk buzzes and without looking up from the papers he presses the speak button.

"Yes."

"A Ms. Sullivan is asking to see you, sir." A man’s voice crackles in response.

"Send her in." Lex straightens and places the bottle on his desk. He reconsiders and drops it in the trash basket. Then he buries Gabe’s file under a stack of EPA reports.

The door of his office eases open and Chloe Sullivan, gaze deliberately fixed on the floor, enters the office. Something in the bag she wears slung across her shoulder seems to be causing her to list a little to the left as she walks toward Lex.

Chloe reaches the desk, squares her shoulders and curls her slapping hand against her stomach. "I’m sorry that I hit you." She lifts her chin and meets his gaze.

Lex glances down at his own hands. "I know that I should have been at that meeting instead of your father. And I should have made it very clear to him to stay at hotel in Metropolis."

"Hold it. Hold it." She shakes her head. "None of this is your fault. None of it." Her voice quavers and she fights down tears, "You’re actually the victim in this piece so there’s no reason to blame yourself for anything. I’m sorry."

She heaves her bag off her shoulder and upends it. The contents slide across the desk with a soft whoosh of paper and a clatter, clatter, clatter of tapes.

A photo of Lex making a less than polite gesture in the direction of the camera falls just at the young man’s fingertips. He swallows, hard, and goes completely still.

Half asleep, Chloe begins to collect her personal belonging – lip gloss, a couple of tampons, pens, various cards and a roll of packing tape – from the arrest reports and tabloid photos. She feels as if she is moving in slow motion. She reaches for her library card and her fingers just brush the side of Lex’s hand.

The contact breaks the man out of his trance.

Swinging up and out of the chair, Lex shoves the massive mahogany desk with enough force to cause it to stutter a few inches across the floor. In the low light of the room his eyes seem completely black.

Chloe takes half a step back. He moves around the desk and closes ground. She slides around the side of the desk. She prefers having at least one corner between them.

"Where did you get this?" His voice has an odd breathy quality to it.

"Roger Nixon’s ex-wife." Chloe explains. Lex pales and she offers, "Maybe you should sit down."

Without seeming to move at all, he sweeps a dozen or so tapes off the desk. A few connect with Chloe’s arms and mid-section before deflecting off and scraping across the floor.

She stifles a yelp and scurries around to the back of the desk.

Lex struggles for control and after a deep breath, "What do you want?"

"What?"

"What do you want?" Each syllable is louder than the previous.

"Want? I don’t want anything." Chloe tries to make her exhausted brain work and she regroups. "Actually, I do want something. I want you to accept my apology for marching through your personal life."

"How charming. Without a second thought, without a first thought, you rashly rush into something. You acquire the most intimate detail of my life and then actually want me to believe that all you want is to be forgiven. How much money do you think the tabloids would pay a novice reporter for this?" He sends more tapes flying.

Chloe holds her ground. "Rash? Maybe so. But I think I’d rather be rash than what you’re accusing me of being. I’m not calculating." Angry, she moves a few steps toward Lex and forces him back. "I’m not like that. I’m not Roger Nixon."

She strides forward and Lex slides around the desk.

"What did Roger Nixon want, Lex?"

"Nothing that should concern you."

"And now that Nixon’s dead no one has to concern themselves with him at all." Chloe offers with a voice that ultimately cracks and goes soft.

A vein throbbing in his temple, Lex stalks forward. "You think I killed Nixon to save myself? And you thought I knew about the tapes and tried to have your father killed?"

"Yes," Chloe swallows.

"What kind of man do you think I am? Oh, wait, you went through all the psychological data available on the subject and now you’ve come to the conclusion that I’m some monster."

"No. I don’t think you’re a monster…"

"But you thought I tried to hurt Gabe?"

His voice drops and he moves closer.

Chloe holds her ground and tries to string together the last few hours in some coherent way. "I told Clark I had the tapes. I thought he told you about them. Somebody broke into my house last night looking for the tapes. I managed to drive him off…"

"You were attacked in your home?" Lex takes another half-step closer.

Uncomfortable with the proximity and what she has to say, Chloe musses her hair. "By Jonathan Kent."

There is the type of silence that might have preceded the creation of the universe. Lex finally manages, "What?"

"After you left the hospital I saw Mr. Kent. He had bruises that I would have left on whomever was in the house." Chloe pauses and almost laughs. "I’m sure if you ask Clark he’ll tell you it was a tractor accident."

"Clark? Clark was here earlier." Lex leans against his desk and half-smiles. "He was trying to tell me about his overprotective father."

Without really acknowledging the statement Chloe begins to gather the tapes and documents that seem to flow in waves across the tile.

Lex considers the situation as Chloe works. The only sound in the room is the dull shuffle of the papers against the floor. She finally retrieves everything and cautiously places the items on the desk.

She turns to face Lex and her stomach growls. Nervous, she murmurs, "to have gone with his arrow all round the world without once eating. Oh, sorry…"

"Abaris with his arrow?" Lex smirks. "It’s a little unnerving to have had someone with a good memory go through one’s life."

"I could apologize again but I’m figuring you’re probably getting tired of hearing it."

Lex makes the slightest of sounds. "Did you know that Abaris’ arrow was a gift from Apollo? A gift of light and healing and knowledge." Lex moves around to face Chloe. "Ultimately, the Gods set the arrow in the heavens where it became known as Cupid’s Arrow. A symbol of passion and loss of control."

"The Greek’s balancing act?"

"Exactly. It’s all about finding the proper balance between the head and the heart." He speaks in a strained but slightly lighter tone, "Or in our case finding a balance between my wanting to kill you and you not wanting to be killed."

Chloe stifles a giggle. "I’m sorry. I’m sleepy and hungry and guilty." She clamps her hand over her mouth.

"Do you want to know what we’re going to do, Chloe?"

She shakes her head ‘yes’.

"We’re not going to do anything." Lex turns in a half-circle and then back. "Jonathan Kent obviously wanted the tapes so he could have some sense of power over me. And Clark…"

"Clueless?" Chloe asks.

"That goes without saying."

"So, you’re just going to pretend that nothing has happened?"

"I know what it’s like to have an insane parent. And I think you’re likely to torture yourself more effectively than I ever could."

"Thanks."

The two lapse into silence.

Chloe straightens and shoulders her bag. "I should go. I’ll just tell Clark that I destroyed all the tapes and I never saw you about it." She exhales. "And I am sorry." Without losing eye contact with Lex, she backs toward the door. With an ungraceful turn and a soft thud of bag against door facing, Chloe is gone.

Lex sighs. He hates the fact that the only thing he can do is sit still and wait. Jonathan Kent? All he can do is try to keep out of the man’s path. Chloe? It would be like cutting the wings off a butterfly. His father would enjoy it, which is reason enough for Lex just to leave the girl alone.

He looks at the pile of documents and tapes on his desk. Five years of his life. He returns to his desk chair and drops down. Without really looking he chooses a tape and slides it into the player on his desk.

His voice, younger and irritated, explains, "Yes, my name is Alexander Luthor and I don’t know why I’m here…"


The End
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