The Artifact

THE ARTIFACT

By Raythe

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. No money made.

PAIRING: Clark x Lex; Lionel x Lex

WARNINGS: Slash/Incest/AU

RATING: M

CHAPTER EIGHT: THIEF OF LIVES

Clark’s POV

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. A perfect spring day, but Clark had no appreciation for it. Instead, he sprawled listlessly on the couch in his Fortress of Solitude even as his mind raced over the events of the day before. Clark had looked in his bathroom mirror long and hard that morning, expecting to see some outward change now that Lex knew both of his secrets. But he looked the same as he always had.

Clark had felt a fluttering of panic when he’d come down for breakfast and his mother had been there, afraid that she would see something in his face that he had not. But she had merely asked him why he was home instead of at Lex’s.

“Did you two have a fight, honey?” Martha had asked as she flipped pancakes.

He’d shaken his head and resisted the urge to drink straight from the milk carton. “No, Lionel came in town and spent the night at the so it didn’t seem like a good idea for me to stay over.”

Clark was amazed had at how easily the lie had come. But then again he had been lying to everyone else for quite some time, why not his mother, too?

“Definitely for the best. I don’t want any of this family nearer that man then we have to be,” Jonathan had said as he entered the house from the porch. “Besides you spend too much time with that Lu… with Lex as it is. I’m sure he has better things to do than hang around with a sixteen year old.”

Clark’s shoulders had tensed the moment his father had piped up about Lex and his spending time together. Sometimes he thought his dad suspected how he felt for Lex, but didn’t want to face it. And then there were the constant anti-Luthor comments. What if Clark were a Luthor? Would Jonathan still think and say those things? Would he become painted with the scarlet L just like Lex was?

Yet Clark didn’t believe that he would be named a Luthor regardless of Lex’s statements last night. He had faith that Lex would think of something. The other was inconceivable. Clark believed that the blood tests that Helen had done were somehow totally wrong or she’d mixed his blood up with someone else’s. After all he had the ship and its AI to prove he was Kal-El from the planet Krypton. Clark frowned. He should have told Lex about the AI, but with all that had gone on he hadn’t thought about it. Perhaps he should go talk to the AI now and find out what it thought of this matter. Not that he wanted anything to do with Jor-El. He and Lionel Luthor had a lot in common. Neither man showed the right kind of fatherly concern in Clark’s opinion.

In fact, Lionel hadn’t acted like he cared that Clark was his son or not, only in how that information affected Lex. Clark wondered if Lionel really believed Clark was his child or if it even mattered to him. From what Clark could see, Lionel’s world was really all about Lex. What was ironic was that Lex didn’t understand that at all. Lex thought he meant nothing to Lionel when Clark could tell that Lex was the only thing that mattered to the elder Luthor.

Clark thrashed back and forth on the couch. It groaned ominously, which caused him to sit still. It was already mid-afternoon and still no phone call from Lex. Clark didn’t know how long the tests would take, but he had no doubt that Lex had worked all night and this morning, too. Also, he was sure that no matter how long a normal lab would take to do the tests, Lex would have a quicker, better method of doing it.

Clark sat up with a huff of breath. He was tempted to superspeed over to the Castle, but for all he wanted to see Lex, he was afraid to go over there while Lionel was around. Although the elder Luthor had made it sound like he wasn’t intending on leaving for some time. At that moment, as if in answer to his own silent request, Clark heard the low throaty purr of one of Lex’s sports car rumble up the driveway. Clark’s heart leapt and he wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. He stood up and went to the window to catch his first sight of the older boy.

Lex always looked good. He dressed himself meticulously and even when recovering from the latest meteor-mutant attack, he still managed to appear elegant, refined and … well, just plain beautiful in Clark’s opinion. So Clark wasn’t all that surprised when Lex exited the dark blue Jaguar looking like something off of GQ’s cover even though Clark was sure that he probably had no sleep the night before.

Lex wore a grey, light-weight coat that hung down to his knees, one of the cashmere turtlenecks he had in every color, today’s color was a slate blue, and black slacks that clung in just the right places to his long, lean legs. His eyes were covered by the purple-tinted rimless glasses that glinted in the sunlight as Lex raised his head to look up at Clark.

“Lex!” Clark cried out. He made a move to go back into the Fortress’ interior so he could meet Lex in the yard, but the older boy motioned for Clark to remain where he was.

Clark couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face when he heard the light tread of Italian loafers coming up the stairs. Even though he felt sick with nervousness about what Lex had come to tell him about the tests, Clark still experienced that almost profound joy whenever Lex was near him and today was no different than any other in that respect. The older boy was at the top of the stairs and stood there just looking at Clark, too many emotions crossing his face for Clark to understand them all, but what made him feel weak and strong all at once, was the love he saw there for him for one long burning moment.

“Aren’t you going to come all the way in or is hanging out on my barn’s steps the new hip thing for billionaires to be doing these days?” Clark asked, appropriating Lex’s comment to him from the day before.

“I find that being with you is more classic than hip. Never going to go out of style,” Lex said softly with a small smile, just a flash of teeth and then gone, as he walked in further. Even under the sunglasses, Clark could see Lex’s eyes playing over the familiar surroundings of the barn as if he were memorizing it. Clark swallowed and gestured towards the couch.

“Do you want to sit down or … I mean, you look kind of … tired,” Clark said lamely and scuffed the floor with one work boot.

“Thanks. Join me?” Lex asked as he dropped on one end of the couch.

Clark sat down nearer to him than he’d dared in the past, but not as close as he would have liked. He shifted around to face Lex. The older boy was looking at him again, but still hadn’t taken his sunglasses off. ‘He’s hiding from me behind them,’ Clark thought and was plucking the light glasses off of Lex’s face.

“I want to see you,” Clark said in explanation as he palmed the specs.

Dark circles that hadn’t been apparent under the sunglasses stood out vividly against the alabaster skin. Clark could also see that the color of Lex’s eyes was a softer, almost pale gray, which indicated exhaustion, but also resolution.

“Do you … uh, are the tests done? Any … any news on that?” Clark asked even as his throat seemed to want to close shut on the words.

Lex nodded and yet didn’t say anything.

“What did you find out?” Clark asked. “Helen made a mistake handling the test tubes, right? I mean that has to be it. She mislabeled them and somebody else is your brother. Other than me, right?” The words that had been pouring out of him so quickly suddenly dried up when Lex gently covered one of Clark’s hands with his own.

The older boy’s voice was soft, but he could have shouted for the effect it had on Clark as he said, “She didn’t mislabel them, mishandle them or make a mistake in any way. I confirmed that her results are … correct.”

Clark’s mouth fell open. “Wha … what? But that’s … I don’t understand … I don’t … If she didn’t make a mistake … Lex, what are you saying?”

Lex’s eyes pinned Clark where he sat. They were filled with this strange mixture of compassion and determination that made Clark’s heart hurt.

“The tests show that you are my half-brother, Clark. That you’re … Lionel Luthor’s son, too,” Lex said then fished into his coat’s interior pocket and brought out a photograph. He handed it to Clark.

The photo was of a beautiful woman with long dark hair and laughing green eyes. Her skin was olive-hued and her lips full. ‘Just like mine,’ Clark thought as he stared uncomprehending at the picture.

“Where’d you get this?” Clark asked.

“Lionel. We … talked … this morning after I confirmed Helen’s findings.” Lex continued, “Her name is Lucretia Varoletti.”

“She’s Italian?” Clark asked, noting the dark coloring along with the exotic name.

Lex nodded as he explained, “Lionel had an affair with her about seventeen years ago when he was in Venice, Italy. He lost sight of her for about four years until … until she contacted him again saying she had something to tell him and someone whom he had to meet.”

“Did he … did he meet up with her?” Clark asked faintly. He was listening and responding to this story as if it had nothing to do with him even though his intelligent mind had already grasped what Lex was trying to say. But the problem was he thought it impossible.

“He was going to. He,” Lex paused, his eyes flickered outside to the sky for a moment, but then back to Clark. “He requested that she come to Smallville rather than Metropolis so my mother wouldn’t … wouldn’t know. The meeting was to be--”

“On the day of the meteors?” Clark asked, his voice a whisper.

Lex nodded and tightened his hold on Clark’s hand. “The meteors came and … he didn’t make the meeting. He didn’t hear from her after that day either. He thought … well, Lionel isn’t known for … for thinking about others unless it gets him something. So he didn’t connect the meteors and a little boy being found by the Kents with … Lucretia or himself for that matter.”

Clark was standing before he realized this. “You think I’m her son? Their son, together?”

Lex rose, tenderly placing his hands on Clark’s shoulders, “Yes, Clark, I do. You have her … eyes. Her mouth. And Lionel’s … Lionel’s blood.”

Clark felt a tremor go through him. “That’s impossible. You know it is. You’ve seen the ship for god’s sake! Lex, you can’t be saying this!”

Lex’s eyes went dark, not with anger, but with pain for him, and something flashed behind them, which told Clark he wasn’t saying everything he knew.

“What? What is it? What are you holding back?” Clark resisted the urge to shake him.

“Nothing,” Lex said, but he wouldn’t meet Clark’s gaze.

“You’re lying! Lex, please! Tell me! Did you find nothing in my blood to show that I’m … I’m an alien?” Clark asked, clutching at the older boy.

Lex gave a soft sound, but he framed Clark’s face with his hands, his expression anguished. “There are anomalies, but … but you’re clearly Lionel’s son. My … my brother.”

Clark shook his head. His stomach roiled and his skin felt too tight. He’d always wanted to be human before, but now … now he wished he was anything but. Being Lex’s brother would foreclose the one future, the one person, he knew he was supposed to be with, would never feel alien with. He would fight for that. He had to. That’s when he remembered the AI.

“Wait! There was something last night that I forgot to tell you, to show you. It’ll prove that whatever these tests are saying isn’t true,” Clark said. “Please come with me. Let me show you. Let me prove to you that we … that we can be … that it isn’t true!”

Lex swallowed deeply and his eyes flooded with that knowledge again that he wouldn’t share with Clark. The anomalies. Since Lex didn’t know about Jor-El, it could only be the anomalies in Clark’s blood that Lex had found making the older boy act like this. That’s what Lex wasn’t telling him. It made Clark ill, because Lex would only lie to protect him. But what knowledge was he protecting Clark from? After all, what could be worse than knowing that he was Lionel Luthor’s illegitimate son, that the Kents had lied to him about who and what he was, knowingly or unknowingly, and that his and Lex’s love for each other could never happen?

“Come with me, Lex. Please,” Clark begged.

Lex nodded reluctantly.

“Meet me in the cellar. I have to go get something,” Clark said, knowing he had to superspeed to get the octagonal key in his room to turn the ship on and access Jor-El’s consciousness

Lex hadn’t even made it down the barn stairs before Clark was already down in the cellar with the octagonal key in hand. Lex started when he saw Clark down there waiting for him.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” Lex said with a gentle smile.

“This is the key to open the ship,” Clark explained, showing Lex the metal octagon.

“My paperweight?” Lex asked, one eyebrow raised.

“My key … I’m sorry I stole it back from you, but … I was--”

“Never mind about that, Clark,” Lex interrupted. “What’s mine is yours.”

Clark lowered his head and nodded. He had hated taking something from Lex, but that seemed so minor now compared with what they were faced with at this moment.

“The ship contains an AI of Jor-El of Krypton. He’s my father. He’ll prove that I’m not … not your brother,” Clark said.

Clark slid the key into place. The ship hummed, glowed softly and began to hover a few feet off the ground. Clark could feel Lex’s interest blooming. The scientist in Lex had always scared and fascinated Clark, but now it was all the latter and he appreciated how much Lex could help him with his alien heritage. ‘If I’m an alien …’ Clark thought then squelched it.

The booming voice of Jor-El reached out to them. “Kal-El, my son, what brings you to see me with the Luthor clan?”

For the first time ever, Jor-El announcing he was Clark’s father was welcome. Clark glanced over at Lex. The older boy’s eyes had widened and the glow of the ship was reflected in them.

“We’ve come to establish what you just said,” Clark responded. “That I am your son and not Lionel Luthor’s … and not of the Luthor clan.”

The ship was silent for long moments. Clark felt his mask of calm slipping. Why wasn’t the ship answering? It was a simple yes or no answer, wasn’t it?

“You are my son,” Jor-El intoned.

Clark’s shoulders slumped in relief, but not for long.

Jor-El continued, “But you inhabit the body of another’s child, which was modified by our technology and the Kryptonite that accompanied your craft to Earth to accommodate your consciousness.”

Clark’s heart seemed to stop. He saw Lex shut his eyes for a moment as if the words hurt him. Then Lex laced one hand with his and squeezed it tightly. Clark drew strength from that touch to keep going.

“What are you saying, Jor-El? That you … that this body …”

“Was made from a human form we found acceptable at the landing site of your pod,” Jor-El said.

“A human … form? You mean a little boy … a little boy with his … his mother ... who was in Smallville that day?”

“Yes. The human form was with a female of the species. The pod could not sustain your young body within it on your long journey and we knew it would be easier for you to adapt to Earth in an indigenous form, so we downloaded your consciousness alone into the pod and then when you landed … we transferred it to the most suitable human form nearby after the necessary alterations were made,” Jor-El explained simply.

“And the boy who … the boy whose body this is? Is his consciousness in the pod?” Clark asked through numb lips. The only thing keeping him standing there, asking questions calmly, was Lex’s warmth at his side.

“No, he is … not in the pod. It would have made no sense to sustain him in that way and human consciousnesses are more … fragile than ours and not fit to survive such a transfer,” Jor-El answered.

“So he’s … he’s just gone? Wiped away and I … I replaced him?” Clark asked. The world seemed to grow a little dim around him as he took in what Jor-El was saying. “And what of his mother? What happened to her?”

“She was too near the landing site. Her body was reduced to ash,” Jor-El responded.

Clark turned to Lex. His body hurt as he if had been beaten by Jor-El’s words. He moved slowly, almost carefully, because he felt if he moved more quickly he might break.

“Lex … you knew, you guessed about all this, didn’t you?”

Lex ran one hand down Clark’s cheek. “I guessed that it had to be something like the ship said. You are … too human … not to be.”

“But I’m not human, Lex. I’m just wearing a human form,” Clark said, his voice cracking. “Like a suit coat. Like a … pair of sneakers.”

Lex was shaking his head. “No, Clark, that’s not true. You are human. You’re more human than anyone I’ve ever met. And you’re … you’re my brother.”

“Lex, I’m not,” Clark said, tears running down his face that he only knew he was shedding by the wetness on his cheeks. “I’m just the person who stole your brother’s body … stole your brother’s life.”

At that moment, there was a gasp and cry behind them on the stairs. Both boys turned around and saw Martha Kent standing there, one hand covering her mouth, her face looking bone-white under the ship’s glow.

“Clark … Lex … what’s … what’s going on?” she asked.

“Mrs. Kent,” Lex said gently, but firmly, “Let’s go upstairs. We need to talk.”