What You Don't Know...

Chapter Fourteen


A week. Seven days since that fateful night that had changed his relationship with Chloe irrevocably and Lex Luthor sat in his office just as confused as he had been the morning after. And he hated it.

That night he’d let himself have something that he had refused for so long to admit that he needed, and now he found himself unable to give it up.

He had sworn to himself as he’d held her that the next morning would see a change in the state of affairs; and it had, just not in any of the ways he’d considered. Instead of stepping up his plans and bringing the situation to a swift end or, at the very least, putting some emotional distance between the two of them, he found himself drifting further and further away from his original goal and closer and closer to the blissful contentment he found with Chloe.

She was fast become a necessity in his life and that made her a weakness. And with his time split between running a multinational conglomerate, fending off his father, and the unending battle raging with Clark, any vulnerability was unacceptable.

The one thing he could be grateful for, in what was fast becoming a train wreck in the making, was that there wouldn’t be complications in the form of a child from the alteration in their relationship.
He’d been fortunate in that he knew for certain they were both healthy and that birth control was seen to; not that that excused the risk. As first the son of a powerful man and then a powerful man in his own right, he could never be safe enough when it came to sex. His use of condoms was a near paranoid self-dictate that had been overlooked in the tumult of their first night, but not in the nights since. With his genes and Chloe’s amnesia, pregnancy was a disaster that didn’t bear contemplating.

When he’d first decided to keep Chloe for the time it took to unearth Clark’s secret, he’d had her medical records tracked down and discreetly copied. Although he knew that the fallout from his actions would be massive, he’d definitely wanted to mitigate whatever damages he could while still achieving his goal and that had made Chloe’s physical well being a prime concern. And so he’d sought out information on possible health concerns she might have had, so that any treatment could be continued.

Recent records had shown that Chloe had an on going prescription for birth control pills and was receiving monthly B-12 shots. He’d been surprised by the contraceptive measures, knowing that Chloe was neither in a relationship nor promiscuous, but his doctors had determined that they primarily appeared to be a regimen to regulate her cycle and that pregnancy prevention seemed to be of secondary concern.

Chloe also had an as needed prescription for a migraine medication. He couldn’t help but note with satisfaction that, although he’d kept some on hand, she hadn’t had even the stirrings of a headache since her accident. It confirmed his belief that her life was too stressful. Just one more thing that wouldn’t have even remotely concerned him 2 months ago, but now bothered him immensely.

It was unacceptable.

Unbearable.

Intolerable.

And yet he was at a loss as how to change it. Ever since he’d woken with Chloe in his arms he’d felt a sense of completion he’d never imagined could exist and so he’d never known what he’d been missing or how badly he’d ache to keep it.


He’d watched her. For an hour he’d simply held her in his arms and drank her in. She was soft and warm and comforting and while he could clearly see the harm in indulging in any fantasies of happily ever after, he couldn’t keep himself from savoring the moment.

But he’d forced himself to regain some perspective. What had happened was the result of a kind of post traumatic stress on both their parts. Chloe had turned to him because he was all she had in her world and she’d almost lost that. And he’d more than reciprocated because in a moment where near death still clung to him, Chloe’s love made him feel alive in ways he’d never known.

When her eyes had slowly fluttered open, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep, and her still slightly swollen lips had curved in a gentle smile, he’d felt the first tremor in the resolve he’d felt sure was iron.

But when those lips brushed his and whispered her love against them, his determination or lack thereof became irrelevant as Lex realized, with dawning horror, that the words that had come so easily to her wouldn’t even take shape within the confines of his mind.

Which was funny when he’d considered it. A week before the lie wasn’t necessary but, had he needed it, the words would have spilled from him with a seeming sincerity unparalleled. And yet now that his feelings, as jumbled and confused as they were, had become involved, he found he couldn’t utter that particular phrase had his life depended upon it.

The words in the absence of feelings gave him control. The declaration in light of them left him defenseless.

“It’s okay, Lex,” she said as she tenderly placed a finger against his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s so hard for you. I don’t know if I remember or I just know, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve accepted me as I am; I can accept you, too.”

And in an instant it happened; his elaborate construction of stratagems and designs crashed to the ground.

The fact that she knew his limitations, acknowledged his daunting emotional reserve and embrace them as an intrinsic part of who he was, without question, shattered something inside him, something he’d managed to hold safe from her vows of love. Because without this unvarnished evidence of her depth of understanding he could allow himself to believe that she loved the illusion; the caring husband who stood by his injured wife. But now he knew. It wasn’t the lies she loved, it was the reality. It was the broken man whose damaged soul couldn’t even choke out three simple words.


With a frustrated sigh Lex forced his sightless gaze to focus again on the engineering report lying open on his desk. He’d wasted over an hour so far on his ever growing personal dilemma. It was time he couldn’t afford to spare and yet he was fairly certain that if he didn’t soon determine a resolution no work of any usable quality would be forthcoming.

And to make matters worse, and Lex had been taught by time and tragedy that matter could always be worse, Chloe had begun having more neutral dreams; memories of unremarkable events that demonstrated a growing inclination of her mind to access a more basic class of information.


“Do I know someone named Lois?”

The question froze his fork in mid air.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“You’ve remembered something?” He’d strove for casual, but even Lex could here the stiffness in his stilted words.

“Not exactly,” she answered looking for all the world like a child who’d just demonstrated some new and hard won talent to the adults around her. “I had a dream. But it wasn’t just a dream, was it? I do know a Lois, don’t I?”

As she related the rather benign dream of her and her cousin having coffee at what, from her somewhat bewildered description of the décor, could only be the Talon, Lex felt a pressure building in his chest. Dr. Heideman had told him that the appearance of mundane remembrances was a sign of the brains reconstruction of neural pathways to non-emergency areas of memory and was generally thought to be a precursor to a major recovery of memories. Although he could offer no timeline, the man was certain that Chloe would eventually see a complete absence of any mental deficit due to her injury.

It was what he’d wanted all along. Lex had never intended for Chloe to be impaired for life. But the fact that she was progressing so quickly disturbed him. And though he wanted to believe that it was because he hadn’t learned all that she knew about Clark, a small voice in the back of his mind taunted him with the incompleteness of that truth.

And so, as Chloe continued her ebullient description of every moment of her dream, Lex attempted to feign an appropriate enthusiasm and returned to eating a meal made tasteless by something he refused to name as anxiety.


And he’d maintained that self-deception until the previous evening.

Chloe hadn’t talked about his hostage experience since the night it had happened; the night his deceptions had begun to take on the beginnings of truth. The ordeal had been harrowing for them both in different ways and neither seemed eager to relive the draining experience.

But yesterday, as she’d reclined on the couch in his office, her silent company soothing as he poured over the excess of facts and figures that never quite seemed to fit into normal business hours, she seemed to have finally come to terms with the near tragedy enough to address something that had clearly been weighing on her mind.


“Lex,” Chloe’s soft voice drew his attention from the papers before him. “That day…”

He didn’t need to ask which day she meant. Lex knew that there was only one in her limited memory that she would speak of with such hesitation.

“That day,” she started again, “something odd happened.”

“You mean besides my brief captivity and the unwarranted beating death of an innocent armoire.”

Lex could see that, although Chloe was willing to discuss that day, she was in no way ready to make light of it. Adopting a more somber expression he waited for her to continue.

“I was watching you walk into that building, so scared you’d never walk back out, and the one thought that burned through me was that I wished Clark was there.” Her eyes raised to meat his and he could see the confusion swirling in their depths. “Why would I want that, Lex, when what you’ve told me, what my own memories have shown me about him is so very alarming?”

Lex knew the answer to that, of course. Clark had an uncanny knack for showing up at the height of a crisis and bringing things to a swift resolution. No matter how much their relationship had deteriorated, Lex was man enough to acknowledge that Clark had saved them all more times than he could count…probably more times than he knew. It wasn’t any wonder that Chloe’s subconscious clung to that hope when danger had loomed.

Of course there was a difference between silent recognition and open approval. He’d be damned if he’d spend his evening deifying Clark. Whatever abilities the younger man had that allowed him to constantly play the hero also made him dangerous. Chloe’s own memories supported that.

But it was more than that, more than just a virulent dislike of Clark Kent. It wasn’t the customary dull throbbing that came with knowing that he was continually being lied to, constantly being judged and found wanting. No; this was sharp and stabbing. It was the heated lick of flames, burning across his mind, reducing all rational thought to cinders in its wake.

It was jealousy. And it caught Lex completely off guard.

Not because he’d never experienced the feeling before. He was human and his life was filled with more tragedy than a Russian novel; he’d been envious of many people over the years. Their family, their friends, their simple existence devoid of negative expectations; he’d longed for them all. And before he’d truly embraced his purpose, his place in life, he’d often pondered what life would have been like being a Queen or a Kent as opposed to a Luthor.

However this wasn’t that familiar sense of want, or some yearning for an abstract ideal he’d held in his heart. This was about Chloe; about his need for her. Not some nebulous concept of love, but the beautiful, passionate woman before him.

Lex didn’t want her thinking about Clark with anything other then the disdain he himself felt for his former friend. In fact he didn’t want her thinking of any other man at all. He’d been spoiled by being the sole focus of her attention for nearly two months and he was loathe to give that up, even if it were just to a vague memory.

Pushing those new and disturbing feelings aside, Lex set out to answer Chloe’s questions in a manner that would ease her mind without giving away his plans or the turbulent state of his emotions.


But those feelings didn’t go quietly and they refused to stay buried for long. And another night of passion and a morning of waking up wound tightly around Chloe hadn’t helped as, instead of any sense of reassurance, there was simply the inexorable ticking of the clock counting down the seconds until she was lost to him for good.

If there was one thing Lex despised more than confusion it was fear. But he could no longer deny the trepidation consuming him. In fact, the dread was so pervasive that the first thing he’d done when he’d reached the office that morning was to call Dr. Heideman.

Circumstances were changing; he was changing, and since Lex was at a temporary loss as to how to stop it, all he could do was increase his options so that whatever came about he was prepared.


“Dr. Heideman, Lex Luthor here.”

“Yes, Mr. Luthor?” The slightly nervous voice of Chloe’s primary physician came over the line.

“I have some questions about Ms. Sullivan’s memory.”

The word Sullivan felt strange on Lex’s tongue and it strengthened his resolve to follow through with his current line of inquiry.

“Of course. Although I really have no new information since I last examined her. As I said it’s impossible to predict when her memories–”

“Heideman,” Lex barked. He had very little time for blathering employees and absolutely none for those who were prattling on about things in which he had no interest. “I want to know if there’s a way to prevent her memories from returning all together.”

“P-permanently?”

“Yes, doctor. Permanently.” Lex was already doubting his sanity in this matter, he didn’t need any questioning from his subordinates.

“Well, I’m really not qualified to even speculate on that topic, Mr. Luthor, much less give a definitive answer.”

Lex knew the man must have sensed his escalating impatience for he rushed onward.

“But, if it were possible, then Dr. Karlsson, the colleague I’ve been consulting in this matter, would be the best source of information as to how to go about such a procedure. I can contact him immediately.”

With a terse, “Do so.” Lex ended the conversation, unsatisfied and uneasy.


Lex ran a hand over his head in a gesture of weariness he rarely indulged as he contemplated the sheer impossibility of the endeavor he’d posed to Heideman.

Even if there were some procedure, even if the process had been medically achievable, the idea was completely infeasible. He couldn’t keep up the excuses forever; Chloe’s absence was already being far too keenly felt by those closest to her. And those very people would most certainly go to any lengths to secure her return. So the only way to keep her with him would be to hide her from the world indefinitely which, even were he inclined to try, Chloe would never accept. She was barely tolerating the restrictions the doctors had given her as it was, and he had the ruined furniture to prove it. She’d never go along with any plan that kept her a virtual prisoner in her own home.

Even without her memories, Chloe had a drive and a focus that had to be funneled into something productive. Right now that energy was directed towards cataloguing whatever information she could divine about her previous life. Lex knew she believed him unaware her activities, and though he was sure that some had escaped his attentions, his plans had demanded a substantial monitoring of Chloe at all times. He was informed of most of the moves she made.

Still, he’d been assured by Dr. Heideman that most of her activities were self-soothing in that they gave her the feeling of being proactive in her recovery while actually doing very little to actually jog any memories.

No, Chloe would never be the kind of woman who was satisfied to live a life of quiet luxury, ensconced in a gilded cage.

Which left Lex with two choices.

One, he could see his original plan through, using every moment left with Chloe to squeeze out what information could be had before her memories were restored.

Or two, he could go to her now, while her heart was full of her new love and her mind was empty of her old animosity, and he could tell her the truth. Well, he could tell her a version of the truth, carefully spun so that when she did finally recover, it would be difficult, but the situation with her would possibly be salvageable.

The latter seemed rife with so many hazards and pitfalls as to make it nearly impossible. And yet it was, by far, the more attractive of the two options for the former meant losing her for good. And that; that was a risk he was no longer willing to take.

Because finally, after all the weeks of togetherness; the days of cherished companionship, the nights of heated passion, Lex was ready to face the terrifying truth –

He was desperately in love with his wife.

TBC