Furious Angels
            by Nymph Du Pave
 

            CHAPTER FOURTEEN:  Trust

            Lex felt Clark pull back, wary and panicked as he stopped screaming but continued to groan.

            "Lex?!"

            Lex gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight, refusing to make another noise that would only show his weakness.  "It's-" he gasped and had to take a deep breath before continuing.  The pain had knocked the wind right out of him.  "My leg.  It's like knives and fucking fire."

            Clark put his hand to Lex's forehead, soothing the ailing Luthor as he pulled away.  Moving back, he removed his own limbs from the tangle that had unintentionally become their legs.

            Lex watched over his chest with confusion and the slightest amusement as Clark examined his leg.

            What does he think he can do?

            "It's not the knee or the shin," Clark muttered to himself as he moved up Lex's leg.

            Lex frowned.  How can he tell?  I didn't even-

            ---A flying body.  No sound of it landing.---

            Lex sat bolt up, body reacting before the thought could fully process.  "Jonathon!" he yelled, then his face scrunched up in pain from the quick and unthinking action.  Sitting up had not been good for his body.  "Jesus!"

            Clark picked Lex up from under his arms and pushed him back up against brick wall for support.  His stomach and sides were cramping, the wounds on his back were stretching and on fire, and his hands hurt from punching Shawn repeatedly.  He was sure that a few of the fingers were either sprained or broken.

            Jonathon.  Shit.

            "Clark," Lex wheezed, the sound achingly familiar.  "Your dad!"

            "I know."

            "No, you don't.  He's-"

            "In the mansion."

            "No, he was.  He came out.  With me.  To-"

            "Check the front gate."

            "Right.  Then that fucking kid came out of-"  The words stopped tumbling from his mouth as soon as he understood the implications of Clark's previous sentence.

            Clark nodded when he saw comprehension pass through Lex's eyes.  "My dad's fine, Lex."

            "What happened?"

            "I caught him- uh, sight of him and took him back to your office.  He told me what had happened and I came out here in time to see Shawn standing over you."

            Clark went back to looking studiously at Lex's leg. 

            Lex did the math in his head.  It took a while to get from just the front door to his office and back.  About eight or nine minutes.  Running really fast could subtract maybe for or five minutes from the time depending on how fast you were and how well you knew your way.

            From the moment that Jonathon was thrown to when Lex spotted Clark was, at the most, a minute and a half.  At the very most.

            What the-

            "It's just dislocated, Lex."

            Clark's voice broke his chain of thought and he shook his head vigorously.  "I don't think so.  I feels horrible."

            "I'm going to put it back into place."

            "No, don't!"

            "It'll hurt like hell at first, but it'll get better."

            "Clark, I-"

            Clark's hand moved to Lex's cheek and the dark green eyes were pleading with his.  "Do you trust me?"

            He swallowed.  "Of course."

            "My dad dislocated his leg after Reggie, one of our cows, got pissed and kicked at him.  I put his leg back into place.  I can do this and we can get you to safety in much less pain."

            He nodded slowly.  The green eyes were hypnotizing, painfully pretty and all of a sudden reminding that he'd almost lost this person.  Reminding him that he'd been sure Clark was gone forever.

            Irritated at the seemingly ever-present stinging sensation in his eyes, he shut them and just nodded.

            Clark misinterpreted the reaction.  "Don't worry, Lex.  I wouldn't do this unless I knew exactly what I was doing."

            He just shook his head, trying to communicate that this wasn't what he meant, not trusting his voice to do the job properly.

            "What is it?"
 
 
 
 
 

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