Furious Angels
            by Nymph Du Pave
 

            CHAPTER NINE: The Thrill is Gone

            In the split seconds before Shawn killed Lex, the young Luthor reached a profound understanding of himself and his predicament:

            He'd previously thought he didn't want to die but, apparently, that just wasn't entirely true.

            He'd only wanted to breathe and exist if there was a chance for happiness, for doing great things in the future with his friend by his side.  His friend that had saved him and, he knew, would have continued to do so.  He knew that his friend would continue to save him, to liberate him because it was meant to be.

            Their futures.  Their lives.

            Their destinies.

            It was all supposed to be entwined.  Connected to the point where he could no longer tell if it was him or Clark that was breathing for the other on that fateful date by the bridge.  Because it had started then.  Not that Clark really needed him for any real purpose though; the farmboy chose him, and for whatever reason Lex didn't care to ponder.  It was better that Clark just wanted him there.  It made their relationship, their kinship, all the more real, all the more unquestionable.  The only thing Lex had known was that he had been selected, selected by the Kent boy, and that was all he wanted to know.

            Our destinies.  We belonged to each other.  We were meant to do something, some things, amazing in this world.

            There was no chance for that now, though.  If he fought, if he tried to beat Shawn, he knew he could.  He was his father's son after all and Luthor's never, ever lost.  But he would just be wandering through life, dead inside.  Worse than Lionel, who had assets and bitterness to keep him going.  Lex would just have ebony hair highlighted by a dazzling smile of the past and his own two feet.  He couldn't live knowing that smile would no longer grace another living being.  Because now that Clark was gone, surely Lex would no longer be Lex.  Jonathon and Martha would no longer be Jonathon and Martha.  Chloe.  Pete.  Even Lana and Whitney.  Everyone would disband.  Everything would change.  Nothing on this green and lush Earth would stay the same as when Clark had been here.  The innocence, the sheer bliss, the raging hormones that the boy brought with him…  The aura…

            The people they once were would no longer be and Lex wanted to fall on his knees and cry out at that harsh disgrace to Clark's memory.  It wasn't fair, but it would happen.  Everyone but Lex would move on, would live their lives, have babies and happy moments.

            Lex couldn't do that.  He couldn't have that.  Because the part of him that had been able to be happy, the part that had the ability to cause others to laugh and bring out emotions of any sort…  It had been frozen and left by a quarterback's truck, breathless.  Dead without the luxury of warmth.

            The warmth of home?

            Lex closed his eyes and prayed that he would see Clark when he got there.  Their fates were intertwined, were one.  If Clark died by Shawn's hand, then he wanted nothing more or less for himself.
 
 
 
 
 

            TBC Tomorrow