Chapter Text
Speed of Sound-Coldplay
Helplessness had turned into a bit of a trend Clair was well and fully sick of. If things had been normal she could have simply run away the way she wanted to. No door or padded walls or jacket with buckles to hold her arms down would have stopped her. Funny how she defines normal, funny in an abnormally normal world that went wrong. She gets cold here, is cold, can't seem to feel warm after being drenched in the rain and being dragged back to the sanitarium. This is a very unpleasant world. She understands her own control issues now that she lost all control and is vulnerable to everything including weather. It has occurred to her that Jor-El, soap product or her AI father, whatever he is, underestimated human strength. There is nothing weak about enduring what they endure each day.
Her day or two has been bad enough and she is not sure she would have the will to keep going if each day were like this. If indeed she is crazy then she understands why she snapped and created her own world. It's a special sort of pain to hear this version of the truth, real or not. The doctor had told her about everyone she knew, told her how happy they all were without her in their life. It mildly registers in her mind that he's rather harsh for a doctor that is supposed to help her but if he is trying to force her to change her mind perhaps it's what is needed; it works to a degree.
Lionel told her things too, things she wished she never knew. What he told her made her wish she could go deaf. She thought it was bad while Lionel was in the room but she knew the second that he left, knew by looking into Lex's eyes, that it was about to get worse still. She could feel the blood running down her chin and pooling in her mouth, giving her that distinct taste of iron. There was probably a black eye blooming too from the blows. Lionel might have worn rings just for the purpose of leaving marks deeper than others.
Lionel's voice had been almost high with his anger, "You are a Luthor now, Clair, and I expect you to behave from now on!"
And Lex never so much as twitched when his father hit her. The warmth was gone like it had been the first moment he saw her up in his office.
Lex smiled but it was anything but kind, it was vicious and cutting like a knife. He wheeled himself right alongside the bed, close as he could get to her. She dared not speak, waiting to see what he might do.
"I was thinking," his voice was low, nearly a whisper to keep others from hearing, "about what you said. I started to wonder what it would be termed considering what you are. Since you are an alien, would that make a relationship with you xenophelia? Or would it be beastiality?"
Clair bit back a gasp of pain, feeling the verbal punch like a stab to the heart and shot to the gut. Beastiality? It hurt more than being hit, hurt so deeply it might have left a mark on her soul. God, she could have lived a lifetime without this much pain!
"Killing you wouldn't even be a crime, would it? Our laws only include human life, not little monsters from the sky."
She held her breath to make sure she made no pained, tortured noises. God, no, it wouldn't be a crime, he could get away with it so long as he could prove what she was. She had no rights under the law, that was true. The fact that he thought of that... could smile like that when he said it... could relish the thought was just more than she could handle.
"If I cut you open and just ripped you apart with my bare hands-" Lex looked like he was envisioning it in great detail and, oh, God that hurt.
Clair swallowed, fighting back the lump in her throat and the sharp, sharp prickle in her eyes. She would not cry in front of him, not when he was-- and not when Lionel was probably still watching. It pained her more than Kryptonite ever could, more than she expected was possible after how numb she already was. It was surprising things could still cut that much after everything else. It was a lie, words hurt a lot more than sticks or stones.
"What happened?" She asked because something must have triggered this.
Lex paused but he answered, "The hospital called, said Lana took a turn for the worse. They don't expect her to last much longer even with machines doing most of the living for her. You managed to show up and ruin the last bit of hope I had, like some kind of jinx!"
Lana, she was slipping away? Was she going to die? Had she done something? Her eyes drifted shut to keep hold of the tears insistently trying to well up. "I'm sorry!" She whispered.
"Don't! Don't you dare! You have no right to be sorry when you did this! You did all this!" It was shocking to watch Lex move out of the chair with his arms, transfer himself to the bed with such strength and familiarity with the motion. He must have to do it every night, alone in his room.
The insane glint of rage was probably different from normal though, and the way he reaches for her once he's seated himself on the cot. Long fingers are around her neck very quickly, his body pushing with a strength she would not have guessed at until she was pinned to the bed by his upper half. Strong fingers are like a vice, preventing her from breathing and she is surprised by how much that burns. Maybe it's a combination of how shattered her heart is and how much the grip hurts that makes it truly unbearable.
While she might be able to shake him off, roll away or use her legs, she doesn't; she lays there as still as a toy. Her hands are bound by straps in the jacket but she does not know that she would have tried to push his hands away even without that.
She had not tried to fight Lionel, had not tried to struggle free of the jacket because she would never let him win a victory that way. She would take whatever he threw with a blank expression the way Lex always did. Fighting would only validate his power.
Now, with Lex's fingers around her throat, doubtlessly leaving his own vivid marks on her skin, she did not so much as twitch. This time she did not try to fight him because she had no desire to, would relax into the end he was offering. Without even that hint of warmth in his eyes she just... had no desire to fight. It would be a release for her and she knew it would be justice for him.
Clair knew he saw the resignation, the surrender on her face because he leaned into it even harder, crazed rage on his face as he put all his weight onto that one point of contact, making her gag and choke more violently. All she saw was black but she still heard the buzz of the intercom kicking on before Lionel's voice snapped;
"Let go of your step sister!" a pause before a continuation since no response was forthcoming, "Don't make me come back in there!"
The hands did let go and Lex got himself back into the chair with practiced efficiency, drawing up his composure like a mask. For a while, she could only take deep breaths as he studied her. Clair watched, vision still mostly black but for the center, she could still see out of but she did not twitch or move. Her lower lip quivered but she bit down on it, trying to control the gasps that she refused to let be sobs.
If it meant she could forget, that procedure would be worth it. Even if she was from another world she could never get back to, it would be better not to know what she was missing. It would be worth any price she might pay if she could only forget this! If it could take it away she would be willing to do it. A life with Alic might not be what she wanted now but it might be if she let things happen the way everyone wanted. Forgetting was the only way she could survive this amount of torture because otherwise, she would not have the will to get up ever again.
Clair woke to Lex hovering over her and went limp, expecting him to finish what he started, welcomed him to make it stop but she could not stop saying; "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"No, no," his hands cupped her face, cupped her head carefully, "Clair, it's okay! It's fine, everything is fine!"
Fine? How was it fine? Far from it, in a different dimension! She frowned hard, unable to reconcile the shift until it hit her like a slap of cold air. It had been a dream or a trip back to reality, whichever the truth might be.
Blinking rapidly, she reached for his legs, checking to be sure before she burrowed close and struggled to hold herself together while hiding her face in his neck. The feelings lingered from that other world, making her insides crawl and anguish, making everything feel wrong. She always knew it was not right to have Lex, not in either world, not when she habitually hurt him.
"I wanted you to." She confessed in a broken whisper.
"Wanted me to what?" He asked softly, lips against her ear.
She wanted him to end it, to take his revenge and give them both what they wanted. She wanted the absolution offering her life would bring for the sins she committed. She wanted him to wring it from her painfully with his own hands, making her suffer. In the waking world though, she could not tell him that, could not say such words that would confuse and frighten him.
Her last moments in that world had been on a table, midway through the procedure. There were so many times she wondered if things had simply gone wrong and she had been plunged into her desired world via coma, like Lana. She wanted to believe she came home though, wanted selfishly to have the man she loved. Chloe was still alive here though Lana was beyond help in either place. Jonathan Kent never died and she was not tied to Lionel through her mother.
Her sins aside, it was the world she knew and the one she was useful in. There was control here even if she was a freak in mind as well as body.
He could have killed her there. Given the right tools, he might be able to do so here as well. Part of her, even past the splitting of her heart, was glad for the offer of an ending to the cycle. There could have been no greater justice than to die at the hands of the one she destroyed in two worlds. She took away everything he could have had in both worlds simply by being there, arriving in fire or standing on the road. Nothing would ever be enough to earn a clean start, even apart from the dream, maybe especially in this reality. In the fabricated world she carried the guilt of both realities but now that she was free of it, the guilt lingered. There had been more clarity over what her presence, her fall to the earth, had done to everyone even near her. She was Typhoid Marry from another planet.
If he ever made the connection to what brought her to earth and all the pain he endured she wondered if she might not be faced with his hate again. It would be justice. A few times she had gotten a look at what his life must have been like as a child and so much of the pain was all thanks to her. He might have had friends if she had not branded him for life. No one would have judged him on sight. There would have been more freedom offered to him without her.
Beastiality.
Clair did not register moving until the papers in the room fluttered down to the floor from high above, the bedding flopping down after having been flung across the room, and Lex staring at her from the bed. His eyes were so full of wonder as he twisted in place so he could face her again after her abrupt retreat across the room. She wanted to run at full speed and she realized just how badly when she noticed she was vibrating. Lex watched her, astonished, mouth slightly ajar.
"I can't stay here. I have to... I can't... I just want-" Finishing a thought was not working well so she tried something different, speeding back to the bed again, "Do you think we could go away? Just for a while? Go somewhere, anywhere, where no one can find us? Change our names and be someone else for a little while?"
"Now?" He questioned, taken back by the request.
She hasn't wanted him to see her so weak. She had been doing well at banishing the damage to her psyche the visions had caused her for that very reason. It must sicken him to see her act so pitifully. No doubt it distressed him as well. Even so, she felt like she might shatter at any moment like she must escape or crack into millions of pieces.
"Tomorrow," she said with conviction but amended it when she remembered he ran a company, "... or soon."
Lex studied her with careful eyes, dissecting her ever so carefully, almost like he would with a scalpel. She could have pictured that from the man in the chair. She would not have fought him on that either. Something in her would have taken a certain amount of satisfaction in a death like that at his hand. So long as he took her life and no one else she felt she could find her peace with it, particularly if he was quiet. Being peeled apart would have been a symbol, the inward pain demonstrated in the physical.
"I'll make some calls." Lex told her softly, and for a moment she forgot what he was telling her, "We can be gone by midday at the latest."
"Thank you." She said earnestly, trying to tell him in voice what words couldn't.
"Where do you want to go? We can go anywhere in the world. Say it, and I'll take you there."
"God, Lex, you are a dream, aren't you..." She knew he had to be, "So kind, so wonderful... good to me when I don't deserve-"
"You deserve the world, Clair! I'm just trying to show it to you." He cut her off with too much sincerity.
It made her laugh because he really seemed to believe his own words, "Oh, Lex, you have no idea what I deserve. I'm really not as wonderful as you think. If anything, I could never earn you. Even in my dreams, I could never win you."
"You already have me, mind, body, and heart. You don't need to win me." It was then that he climbed off the bed to follow her, approaching her the way anyone would a frightened creature, "You win me every day with a look, with a smile. We're planets spinning around each other, helping each other stay balanced. You are the sun to my moon, Clair. I wouldn't survive without your light."
She allowed him to wrap her up in his arms, allowed him to bring her back to bed, and she allowed him to soothe her back to sleep with her head propped up on his chest. She listened to the beat of his hearts and began to believe in her reality again. Just before she fell asleep she whispered her love and devotion to him. He might have heard it but he might not have.
Lex did take her away, true to his word. They got on a private flight and she never asked where they were going. She cuddled up at his side the whole way there, in and out of sleep, never settling fully on either one. He noticed how abnormally tired she seemed, weary in far more than the body. It worried him more than he could have expressed to see so much of her vitality zapped away. She needed a bright sunny spot with no one to ruin anything, and he guessed she needed some time alone with him to be sure she understood how much he valued her. That was exactly what he supplied for her. Far from Kansas, with beaches and mountains, no people for miles.
They touched down on a private airstrip and he sent the pilot away to the nearest town instantly. She would be able to decompress far more easily if there were no people to cause her any sort of stress. He could protect her so much better if they were alone. His father had no idea they were here, he made sure of that. Threatened a hand full of people with things he would only mildly consider actually doing, but they sounded good for motivation purposes. It got him his way and that was really all he cared about.
Lex watched Clair the way he might have watched all the natural wonders, amazed he was able to watch with his own eyes. Her body was nearly bouncy, sort of moving in waves, a bit like a hummingbird in flight and he doubted he could see the full extent. Truly, she was fast and she was not hiding it from him. She was happy and let him see a little piece of what she was honestly capable of rather than hiding it from him. Her smile was wide and ecstatic, happier and freer than she had seemed in far too long. This was the way she should always be, and he would run away with her forever if it made that happiness stay.
He hesitantly reached out his hand to her, wanting and needing to touch her but unsure if he should, pausing at the thought of hindering her from those free displays of fantastic ability. He had watched her float above the ground and on occasion, he now had to wonder if he was a tether in some of the wrong ways. He wanted her to feel free, yet he selfishly wanted her to linger within his reach. How did a man that could not fly stay near an angel without crippling her wings? How could a mortal man measure himself against angels and expect to hold them at his side? It was no a question easily answered, resulting always in more conundrums of moral questions.This guardian angel watched over the world but he had seen her fall, watched her plummet and he would do anything to catch her. He did not want to watch her fall ever again, which might mean keeping her on the ground, but did he have the right to? She took his hand with a sunny smile, unknowingly alleviating his introspective worry.
Clair tugged at his fingers, taking the lead and urging him into motion when he stared at her too long without moving. For now, he supposed she needed time to heal her wings. He could do nothing but watch over her in the meantime, tend her wounds, and bide his time. He had no doubt she would fly again, for he supposed it was in her altruistic nature, but he also had no doubt he would, at some point, have to see her fall again, for that was the true tragedy of angels and heroes; because they protected everyone else, they could not guard themselves. All heroes suffered.
When she looked at him with those guileless green eyes, full of love and devotion he received from no one else, he wondered how he would survive seeing her hurt again. He vowed once again to make the world a safer place for her. He could not stand by and allow her to be hurt and do nothing. Lex loved an angel and he could not fly but he would find other ways to be worthy of her and stay near her without being the one to tie her down. Falling for a child of the stars gave him a new perspective on all the old legends. Lex had found Mt. Olympus, and while he was not but mortal man, he would find a way to navigate.
They wandered without purpose, seeing the grounds and the little house they would be staying in for however long it took to make her feel more like herself. He never put a cap on how long they would stay. Lex did not care if it took a year so long as she came back to him fully, back to that same sort of life he saw and was drawn to when they met long ago. No one was allowed to take that away from her while he was capable of stopping it, not even aliens or any of their respective father figures.
Clair strolled into the little cabin with great wonder, marveling over everything including the fact that there was a small fridge, sink, and cabinets in the bedroom as well as there being full-sized versions in the kitchen. having things simply for the convenience of not having to leave the room was clearly not a concept she was accustomed to after living on her families farm. The idle rich and their eccentricities were beyond her. Though she seemed to rather approve of the spa style hot tub in the bathroom.
"Why don't we use it?" He suggested casually, "here is more than enough room for both of us. We could both use it after the trip."
She beamed at him excitedly like he just suggested to a person deprived of sleep for days that they could sleep until noon or longer. "Really?"
He shrugged one shoulder, "Why not? The place is ours. We can do precisely anything we like at any time we like."
Her grin spread just a bit more and she nodded, "I'll get my swimsuit."
"Don't bother," he waved away the notion with a dismissive motion, "it's just us. We can fill the tub with bubbles to keep our modesty." At that he gave her a wicked smirk, perhaps revealing that had been his intention from the moment he brought up the idea.
They were a couple now, it was time he flirted more. They needed to have fun and be playful to break up the seriousness that had hung over them too long. Getting them both out of their element was what the trip was about. He missed the times they were more playful, like the time he chased her through the castle. They needed to do things like that again. They needed to laugh more and act their age, or younger.
She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him, but ultimately he could tell she would eventually give in to his wishes. "I don't know... that seems a little odd."
He adopted a bit of an overdramatic air for the occasion, one she would know he was faking, "We're adults. We can handle ourselves. My intentions are honorable, I assure you."
Clair snorted, "Now I kind of doubt that."
He smirked charmingly, pulling out the playboy persona he had not used in quite some time, "You think my offer is less than beneficant? Why, my dear Clair, I assure you-"
"Don't bother," she shoved him playfully, "I've watched Lois at work."
Lex blinked at her and frowned, "I fail to see how you are comparing us or what possible similarity there is in anything I do with anything she might do."
Clair hmmed noncommittally, "Fine, but you wait in the other room while I get in and only come back when I say it's safe."
Lex nodded sagely, "Perfectly reasonable. You will no doubt divert your eyes for me when I get in. It all works perfectly."
With that settled, Lex got out the bath salts and bubbles while she began the process of filling the tub. He bent over with a particular intent while he mixed in the salts and bubbles. When he straightened and turned around only to catch her eyeing him, he felt entirely gratified and victorious when she blushed. As promised, he stepped out of the bathroom, relishing his few moments of fun. He wouldn't do anything but tease her though he knew he was indeed testing his self-control by initiating something of this nature but once the thought struck him he had been unable to resist. He had every intention of being perfectly good and doing nothing untoward because he might be a man but he was no fool, he knew there were boundaries he could not push, just toe the line of. He knew her well enough by now to know how far they could go before she pulled away, though he couldn't say why she did pull away.
He slipped out of his button up shirt and set it aside on one of the chairs in the secondary dining table in the bedroom. Clair had shaken her head once again when she found that. It was apparently foolishness to duplicate everything rather than taking the time to walk into another room. He attempted to explain the reasons behind little allotments like those, such as the probable occasions when more than one party might stay in the house, and thus the need for everyone to have their own space, but she did not seem to see the need. Why she had asked, could people not manage to eat breakfast at the same table if they were all staying there? He admitted her responses amused him greatly. Flustering her in any way tended to amuse him, thus the reason for this rather dangerous exercise of his own restraint.
The expensive shoes were settled nicely by the door and his socks folded neatly onto the chair with his shirt and slacks for later. Normally he hung his socks on hangers which he knew would also get a response from her once she noticed. When he unpacked he doubted very much that she would be able to keep her commentary about his habits to herself. At home, he put lesser items like socks in drawers but on trips he was more particular since there were only so many things one could easily pack, so they had to be wrinkle-free. He could manage to console himself to hanging a shirt over a chair but he had never been able to bring himself to stuff his socks into his shoes the way she did.
He was aware Clair put little value in clothing and was prone to only buy things other people had formerly owned or items that were entirely too large for her. His tailored and crease free attire was subject for her own amusement and he knew it. She told him he was very particular, muttering "prissy" under her breath, and he only managed a mild glare at her. He knew for a fact that her clothing would all be on the floor, probably kicked to the side when he went in there again. He left his silk boxers on since he had a feeling she would rather he not return in the nude.
"You can come back in!" She called from behind the door.
Lex slipped back inside and shut the door to hold in the humid air. The jets of the tub were already humming, churning the water up around her while she watched him move closer. She was hunched low in the tub, the water almost lapping up over her shoulders with her knees drawn up and peeking out of the water. She had taken care to be sure the water and bubbles were high enough to hide her the way they were supposed to, obviously. Sometimes he was reminded through simple actions just how different they were. Girls he had grown up with would not have been too shy to display anything to outsiders, or they would at least have appeared confident. The girls he grew up with were wild and rich with money to throw at recreational and ill-advised activities the press enjoyed reporting on. It was a world of sex, drug, fast cars, and drunken disorderly charges.
She grew up in a small town and hardly knew the meaning of wild parties or promiscuous behavior. She was what people called a wholesome girl and it frightened him sometimes because he never met anyone like her before. It nearly made him back right out of the room to avoid tainting her with his own illicit background. Then she smiled up at him and he could not have left if he tried.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and she promptly looked away like the well-raised Kent she was. Her eyes stayed diverted until he was safely submerged in the hot swirling water as well. This girl was a gift he never deserved. So honestly good and righteous it frightened him at times. She had the Kent charm and she had the Kent smalltown values. She was one of those good girls men like him only ever heard existed. After all, she had been through there was still that innocence about her that baffled him.
He smirked wickedly, to hide his sudden doubt that he should even be in the same room with her, "I don't have much modesty to protect, really. You didn't have to look away."
Clair smirked back, "I'm protecting your virtue."
Lex couldn't help the bark of laughter bursting from his chest, "I don't think anyone has accused me of having virtues of any kind in years."
"Then I suppose they haven't been looking at you. I see plenty of virtues." She looked him right in the eye as if to let him know she meant it, which was sobering as well as touching.
For lack of anything to use as a comeback, he fished his hand into the water until he found one of her feet. She jumped at the contact but did not pull away. He carefully settled her foot on his knee and began to kneed to flesh. By the look of her, she considered protesting, more than likely insisting he needn't do such a thing. For whatever reason, after a moment she visibly swallowed the words and allowed the process. He watched her relax back against the tub, watching him from under her thick lashes.
It seemed she could not hold herself back forever though, because she did eventually speak, "You really don't need to do that. I should be the one pampering you considering you brought me here, at my request, no less. You have been catering to me for ages. You certainly deserve at least a few hundred foot massages."
Lex chuckled but kept his self-appointed task. She never was good at accepting gifts in any format, never good at accepting kindness or gestures of affection without feeling the need to repay with whatever currency she had available. Of course, she never seemed to take saving the lives of half the town of Smallville, his own in particular on multiple occasions, as any sort of payment. She could not grasp that it was he that owed the immeasurable debt for that alone, not to mention her priceless gift of love and acceptance. He craved her love more than he did the air he breathed like the poets would have said.
He worked over every inch, massaging nerve endings with what he knew of pressure points and the map of the portions of the foot. He studied acupuncture at one point and massage techniques for his own curiosity. He always tended to love information even about particularly random facts. Once he finished he kissed the top of each toe before letting her foot sink back into the water. Being a completionist he fished out her other foot and offered it the same treatment with his fingers.
The bath was a game, he would admit, but it was a bit more as well. It was not about seduction, it was about intimacy and most definitely trust. He had no plans to lure her into a trap, he more or less sought to prove himself to her. Allowing them an intimate act was a way to build trust and close connection but proving himself capable of being more than his youthful self, prone to indiscretion and impulse. He was a different man now, one that loved her with every part of his being, and he hoped he could prove it to her while they were away from the rest of the world. He needed her to understand.
"Did you know that in some cultures a kiss to the foot, and sometimes the big toe specifically was a sign of loyalty, respect, or fealty?" He could never seem to help the way he bubbled up with random information, but all the same, he peppered her foot with small kisses, unable to help the vows of loyalty coming to mind with each kiss.
She pulled her foot from his grasp and he suddenly found her seated at his side, pressed against him, arms curled tightly around his upper body. He swallowed a gasp at both her uncanny speed that left the water sloshing and at the feel of her skin against so much of his own. His heart pounded hard in his chest and he could admit guiltily to himself that a large portion of his blood rushed south. He could not return the hug well at the angle since she was more or less pinning him, but he twisted his arm to grip her shoulder. Her lips pressed a long, oddly reverent kiss on his shoulder and then his pounding pulse point in his neck.
"I love you." She whispered with an odd rasp in her voice.
Lex was a bit distracted by her body pressed against his but he wrestled his mind from entertaining those thoughts, "I love you too, more than anything."
"You're my world, you know?" Her voice was tight and quiet, "I've lost you so many time- times..." when her voice broke he leaned his head against hers, trying to offer support, "but you always find your way back to me somehow, or I find the way to you."
"That surely counts for something, right?" He nuzzled his nose in her hair, nudging her scalp affectionately, letting her hair tickle his face. "Means it's destiny."
That might not have been the thing to say seeing how she seemed to wither against him, though she did not let go of him, "I thought you didn't believe in destiny anymore. We make our own destiny, I believe you said."
"We do, but some connections are so strong, maybe they really were meant to be. When I see you I can't imagine life without you. From the moment I opened my eyes and saw you hovering over me, I'd never felt a sense more... right. Being with you is like finding... home, something I never knew I was missing before. People would probably scoff at me if they heard me say this, but I've felt for some time that you were... a piece of me I'd been missing all my life." He let his eyes shut as he breathed in the smell of her hair, "Maybe soul mates are real, for all I know."
They lapsed into silence and she settled against him more comfortably after a while. Once she moved to allow it, he wound his arm around her shoulders, careful to keep his hand in an appropriate location. His heartbeat eventually calmed moderately even with her proximity and the intimacy of the skin contact beneath the water. Their breathing fell into sync and he felt incredibly connected to her at that moment, but she shifted away to her own side and he tried not to regret the loss.
With that crooked smile of hers, she reached into the water and he felt her fingers catch his ankle. It was then that he realized why she moved away. Her fingers were smoother than they ever should have been for someone that worked on a farm. He had always noticed that little detail, even when they simply shook hands. He had shaken hands with quite a few farmers, including her father, and their hands were harsh with callouses. Clairs were not butter-soft as many socialites were, but they were far different than they should have logically been.
Lex found himself protesting as she had, "You-you really don't need to. I was just enjoying your company."
"I know." She said simply, but began her methodical study of his feet, mimicking with surprising accuracy what he had previously done, including the kisses at the end. It sent the message she intended perfectly well. Things were mutual between them. They were in it together and she was his as much as he was hers. He understood she was willingly putting herself on his level even though she was miles above him in every sense. It made him swallow and close his eyes to compose himself. It did feel rather good even if he was fairly sure she could crush his bones to dust if she so desired, the key was that she wasn't. She was doing everything but hurt him. The danger in her gentleness was rather intoxicating and he found himself focusing on that rather than any other emotions.
Once it was time to step out of the whirling water he went first, wrapped in a towel he left her to dress on her own to prevent intruding on her. It had been enjoyable, bathing with her but he felt it had been a little more emotionally draining than he anticipated or intended. He felt a bit wrung out, though in a warm, pleasant sort of way but still overwhelmed. They had quite a long way to go between them. Destiny or not, love was work and it was not of an easy variety. If anything, their love was the hardest experience he had in a very long time even if it was well worth it.
He was only half dressed when he heard the doorknob twisting, though at least it was the important half that was clothed.
When the bathroom door flew open, her expressing was one of clear purpose, "I was thinking," was all the preamble to the sudden rush of words coming out her mouth with surprising speed, "We need fake names for going into town. Considering who you are, you sort of just radiate money and power naturally. Where we're staying is also a clue and people will probably assume we have connections, so the names should reflect that; pompous without being obviously fake, ones we could turn normal. We need disguises too! Wigs maybe! And I know how to look different with makeup now so it shouldn't be hard."
Did she take a single breath through that? And she was only in a purple teary house robe, something he decided she must have done to put his good intentions through the wringer since there was only one belt tied around her waist to keep him from wonderful things. After the bath, his control was starting to thin. He wasn't a teenager though, he could stay focused, but sometimes he could not even begin to fathom how to handle her.
"Pompous... but can be turned normal?" He asked, incredulous.
"Yes!" She flapped her hands enthusiastically, "So we could be rich people trying to fit in but we could be faking it too, so no one can tell. It makes us suspicious so it makes us believe."
Lex balked at her, "That makes absolutely no sense."
"Trust me!" She insisted vehemently, "I'm using Lois logic and it always works!"
"Didn't we go away to get away from people?" He questioned.
"Mostly, sure, but that doesn't mean we can't explore. We just need a change, to be away from familiar things. That's why we need to be other people. I figured they out when I pretended to be your secretary."
With a roll of his eyes he conceded, with no way to argue, and attempted to put effort into it, "Fine... how about Britney, Charity... or... Tiffany."
She scrunched up her nose in distaste, "You literally picked the worst cliche names for gold diggers or strippers. I refuse, next try."
Lex sighed and rubbed his temple, "Alright, how about Gwendolin or Sophia?"
She made a considering expression before nodding, "Gwen for short. The other one makes me think of soap." She grinned in a slightly worrying way, "What should we call you?"
"Why not use my middle name? Joseph?"
She waved her hand, shooing away the suggestion, "No, no, that doesn't work at all."
It was his turn to make a face, "Why not? The nickname would even be the same length. L-E-X and J-O-E."
Clair visibly cringed but he was unsure why "Exactly why it won't work! It's too similar and someone might make the connection. You don't look like a Joe anyway and I could never call you that."
Once again he decided to acquiesce, "What would you suggest?"
"Oh! I know! Harinford! It's the most pompous name I've ever heard, and I could call you Harry!"
The earned her a disgruntled look, "Very funny! I'm going to say no."
She rolled her eyes, "Fine, fine, how about... Lucious!"
"It sounds very close to Lucifer. Are you trying to hint at something?" He sneered.
She was not deterred, "No, no, I think it's perfect! It's even got the 'L' so it makes it easier for me."
Lex found himself laughing at the surreal nature of his life since he met this girl. Sometimes he would swear Chloe and Lois had done things to her brain with all their wild, insane ideas. He knew she tended to emulate them when she was unsure of what to do. Some days he was a little afraid he was dating a mix of all three women. He could accept that, he supposed, so long as the largest portion was Clair. While he might be insane he loved her enough to console himself to such a future.
"Fine," Clair huffed, "if you hate it that much, we can think of a different one." Her eyes rolled up to the side like she was thinking, "If you want, we can just call you John Smith and be done with it."
They both cringed suddenly, "John is too close to your father's name. I don't think I could answer to that."
She shook her head in agreement, clearly thinking the same thing, "It's actually why I don't care to call you Joe either. It's too close..." She trailed off and it suddenly struck him, a long past memory of her mentioning the name her biological father went by.
That made him cringe as well, "Let's avoid 'J' names then."
"Probably best." She agreed, but she smirked at him suddenly, "We could aim for my mother's name and call you Markus."
Lex huffed and shook his head in amazement, "While I feel less strange about that one for some reason, I'm still going to say no. Let's avoid any and all parental association for this trip."
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, "Then it has to be Harinford because your father's name starts with 'L' and so does my mother's... and your mom."
Lex blinked at her in surprise, "Your mother? Your... birth mother?"
Bypassing his question she slapped her thicks as if making a decision, "Forget it, we'll just be Gwendoline and Georgianus. Problem solved."
Lex found himself letting out a highly undignified snort at that. "That sounds horrible!"
"There's no helping it! You didn't like Harinford!" She insisted, but graciously amended it for him, "I guess we could go with Harigan."
"How magnanimous of you!" Lex couldn't help snickering because honestly, it was funny, "Very well, you win! Call me Harry if it makes you happy! You conniving thing, you!"
She bounced up to him with a wide grin and kissed his cheek, "Can I help my own genius?"
"Yes!" Was his succinct retort.
She ignored him, gasping suddenly, "Harigan Harinford! That should be your name! I'll be Gwen Harinford."
Lex covered his face in his hands at the sheer notion of such a horrible name, groaning playfully before letting his hands fall to his sides, "You are never allowed to name our children." They both froze and he made an attempt to salvage his abrupt intimation of their future, "Hypothetically speaking." Not one of his better saves.
She smiled nervously at him but allowed his blunder to slip by without any comment. They had yet to discuss what they planned to do in the future. The day to day was more than enough for them to handle at the moment anyway. A future though? One that consisted of all those grown-up things, very real and tangible things like wedding rings and baby names? A few years ago and he would have balked at the notion and run the other way. Not so much anymore, obviously, considering he was the one to bring it up. He never consciously contemplated it but now that he said it out loud he realized that he had thought about it in abstract ways. He even... wanted it. For once in his life, there was someone he wanted to have all those cliche things with. He had not wanted them with Helen, not really, he only wanted the woman rather than the future aspects. He wanted it with Clair and the realization was like ice injected into his blood, he could even feel some of the color draining from his face. Alden would have told him he had been domesticated, he was sure.
Lex's eyes turned to the angel that bewitched him and he wondered how bad that could really be so long as it was her. The silence must have drawn on even longer than he suspected if the quizzical way she looked at him was an indication. Those green field eyes looked into his soul to search out his secrets but he allowed it. Luthors never allowed anyone too close but he circumvented all his years of training and allowed his own vulnerability for good or ill. She seemed to have found something in his eyes because she smiled again, but more softly than before, with all pretense of the awkward conversation, banished. He looked down when he felt her fingers link with his and then he inexplicably felt like crying. Instead, he called back a moment from their previous conversation, "You're my world too."
They took a car and drove out of town in order to procure their disguises for the stay in the little tourist town and it felt strange to hold her hand and drive because it seemed somehow intimate, like a commitment, but he could not bring himself to want to let go. They drove with the top of the convertible down and the wind was a marvelous companion she seemed to relish greatly as if she was well accustomed to the feel of wind whipping over her. If he had seen anything of her true speed, he supposed that was highly likely.
She lifted her arms over her head, swaying them in the wind, eyes closed, baggy sleeves of the plaid shirt that probably formerly belonged to her father, flapping with the motion.
Her hair was wild, flowing like dark ocean waves in a storm. She was quite a picture, stunning and beautiful with those hints of darker things underneath. She was, in a word, stunning. It was something like an honor to be seated beside her. Few in all the world could claim they sat beside a creature of legend, least of all one so stunning and brilliant like the sun itself.
The baggy shirts are a stark reminder that she still has not understood the fact. She isn't secure in herself, not even now. There is a lot that goes into her insecurity, and he suspects part of it is her guilt and the feeling of being different, but it's more than that.
He knows it is there, has seen it all along, but the more he learns the more wrong that has become. There is something so fundamentally wrong in this girl that can do absolutely anything, that can run circles around any human, this beautiful girl that is the embodiment of every myth known through the ages, that is the same girl that feels inferior!
Clair has an inferiority complex! She knows what she could do, knows she could kill with a flick of her fingers, understands her superiority, yet feels lesser for it. He has watched her many, many times, watched those lesser human scum of her high school rip her up and spit her back out, and he watched her let them do it, watched her try to hold her expression even though her eyes were all the proof he could need to see how destroyed she was over the opinions of lesser mortals. It made him want so badly to destroy those pitiful teens, demolish the family all the way down the line including extended family, but he refrained.
Clair was what history would have called a goddess, and yet she felt inferior to the mortal men that would have crumpled at her feet a few hundred years earlier, and probably still would if they had any idea what she could do. Even with his own actions, he had to take great care. There had been far too many times he had hurt her, watched the pain flash deep in her eyes; sometimes he had even done it intentionally. It was one of the biggest reasons he could never stay angry with her in the past. Hurting her was like kicking a puppy and he always found himself regretting his actions almost instantly.
Honestly, too, her lies always looked like they hurt her as much in the telling as they did for him in the listening. Whenever she lied her shoulders tensed, muscles visibly knotting, her expression was fixed but he could still see the twitching hiding under the surface, her eyes turned pained and desperate, begging for him not to ask questions that would make her lie more than once. Whenever he accepted a lie she just looked so grateful, eyes almost worshipful when she looked at him; the look made it sting less, soothed the pain of being held at a distance. If he had understood her reasons sooner it might never have hurt him the way it once did.
At this juncture of time, he supposed they were even as far as disclosure because they both still had things hidden but they were working on it.
She leaned over in her seat and gave him a quick peck on the check. The broad smile she shot him told him of her happiness more than words ever could have because her eyes were sparkling at the prospect of this new adventure they were taking. She seemed to revel in this secrecy and anonymity. He dared not ask her if she felt anything like this the last time she hid from the world and wrapped herself in the cloak of namelessness and dove head first into the sea of Metropolis to evade the rest of the world and anyone that knew her. He knew she did not consider it one of her more shining moments but he did understand the lure of getting lost. He had done it himself many times in many different ways. Occasionally he had done it as they were now, changing his name to exist as anyone else in the world. He had worn disguises before, and even brought a hat along with them, though it was resting on the seat rather than on his head considering the wind. They both had a nice set of aviator glasses perched on their noses.
While she had been intent on procuring wigs for both of them he had already convinced her that a temporary hair color kit would be best for the long run. Her hair was thick and lush so hiding it under a wig would have been more a task than simply changing her color. He could privately admit his adamant stand had been more because he was looking forward to doing her hair than any real hesitance about wigs.
Shopping for their alter egos, he would admit, had been as much fun as dressing her for the party had. They were in very mundane local stores but they still modeled for one another. They took turns popping in and out of a dressing room and twirling dramatically or striking highly ridiculous poses. She dissolved into hysterics by the time he finished with his turn, which had been his aim. He did purchase a terrible little Halloween wig that would need some extra help to look at all like real hair, and even then he intended to keep the fedora on, but he felt up to the task.
Once they acquired their personas they found a dingy, pay-by-the-hour motel. Lex relished the attention he was allowed to give her hair considering he had a bit of a thing for her hair on any given day and this was just an excuse to play with it an inordinate amount. While the color was setting, he worked on his own future hair until it seemed plausibly something one would not find on a cheap doll or street worker.
He watched her twirl a now fiery red curl in her fingers, contemplating her own reflection rather intently. She had initially insisted on being blond but when he explained how much work they would have to go to in order to lighten her very dark hair enough to take blond, she settled on red. He found it almost frightening to look at her considering Martha Kent was a very powerful, strong redhead that he was mildly terrified of, and Clair held a striking resemblance to her like this. Not so much a familial similarity but there was something distinctly like the woman that raised her staring out of the mirror. His own mother was a distinct redhead but somehow he did not see any resemblance there, however, it did strike him as all the more frightening. All the women he knew with that color hair had always been quite a force to be reckoned with.
Something told him red meant something to her as well but he could not decide what it might be, nor if it was a good or bad association. There was just something about the look in her eyes that kept him wondering what she could be thinking. Thoughts were so clearly swirling in her head but there was nothing he could identify because it all seemed to whirl by faster than he could have a hope of catching.
There was a gleam in Clair's eyes when she turned in the chair to face him again, clutching the chair a little too tightly if the way it creaked meant anything, "I have an idea!" She told him simply before she shot from the chair and beckoned him to follow her out the door.
Lex found himself desperately wondering if he just created a monster because he was personally a little afraid of exactly what her epiphany for their next venture might be. There was little he could do but follow, however, even if he was distinctly apprehensive of the future outcome. He swallowed his wondering when they flopped into the car and he focused on her smile. The way she smiled, it was almost dangerous in its glee. He had seen that smile a few times before but the occasions had been rather rare. She kissed him almost roughly and he surrendered easily to the attention.
"Let's have some fun!" She purred down his ear when she turned the key in the ignition for him, revving the engine, "Let's go."