Work Text:
"Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug." - aphorism, origin unknown
The first words that left Lex’s mouth were “Jesus Christ…” and immediately he wondered at them, where they’d come from, because until this moment he had never given God much thought, but maybe it was because the boy’s body, sprawled on the ground in front of his car was splayed like in crucifixion with his arms outstretched on either side. And if he had just hit Jesus with his porsche at seventy miles per hour then damnation, if it had not been before, seemed assured now.
His first day in this shit hole town, well this seemed only appropriate, given the general trend of Lex Luthor’s life so far. He’d been looking at his phone- moron- and hit the brakes but not soon enough as his Porsche collided with a roll of wire in the middle of the road, his ears rang with the sound of his screeching tires as the vehicle swerved out of his control and in the windshield he saw him- they actually made eye contact, just for a moment, that felt like a lifetime. Pale blue eyes like the summer sky. Beautiful as an angel. And Lex, plus 4,000 lbs of sleek steel, charged into him at nearly 70 miles per hour. Fast and loud enough to have been the big bang. Lex blacked out and when his eyes opened again he was still in the front seat, blood dripping from where his forehead had collided with the steering wheel, his shoulder burning from where the seat belt had clutched him.
In that bleary moment of recovery the only thought in his mind, like a photographic imprint, was that face he’d seen just before everything had gone dark. The spider web cracks shattering his windshield, the oily black smoke billowing out of the crumpled front of the car, he couldn’t even see them. I hallucinated him, he assured himself. Some sick pre-death figment of my imagination my twisted subconscious conjured up in lieu of an inventory of my life flashing before my eyes.
Weakly he unbuckled his seatbelt and stumbled out of the car. His body swayed, his bones had suddenly gone brittle, deciding they couldn’t support his weight any longer and his vision swam with dark spots. But despite that, he could see well enough that there was no denying the body laid out in front of the bumper of his car.
There was something terrifyingly peaceful about the scene. About the motionless body, free of any blood, head turned to the side and eyes shut gently as if in sleep. Long black eyelashes shadowed sun kissed cheeks. He couldn’t have been more than a teenager.
And I killed him. The words didn’t have the weight Lex would’ve expected of such a momentous declaration. His brain felt numb but suddenly bile was boiling at the back of his throat and he wretched hard, his whole body caving in on itself and forcing him to his knees, folded in half with his fist over his mouth to keep from throwing up. When the feeling passed with a few coughs and his eyes watering, he weakly swiped his hand over his face, ignoring how it came back stained with fresh, wet, blood.
Lex knew that if he was a better human being he would be feeling something like guilt… sadness… But all he could manage in that moment was paralyzing fear.
All those years he’d spent terrified of his own destiny, wasted, when it would all come to an end right here. This wasn’t Metropolis, his father couldn’t bribe Lex’s way out of this. He’d just killed a teenage boy in a head on collision. Even if he avoided jail, Lex’s reputation would never recover. His reputation- fuck! he angrily swiped his hand over his face again, the blood was spilling into his eyes, distracting him. He hated himself viciously. Wished he could rewind and somehow throw himself under the wheels of his own Porsche rather than deal with what would happen when his father heard about this, the knowing smirk he’d give him, as if he’d been expecting this exact scenario to happen for years. He wasn’t even the only one. Everyone was waiting for Lex to finally screw up so badly he killed either himself or someone else. Why couldn’t it have just been the former instead?
He managed to force his eyes back to the body next to him. Black curls haloed a handsome face. Oh, god, his backpack… he must have been on his way home from high school. The bag had ripped in the impact, the books and pencils from it strewn from the point of impact in a trail down the street over the black skid marks, loose paper whirling in the breeze. A library copy of Nietzsche had been crumpled under the force of the tires, shredded and stained, disemboweled pages strewn about like the innards of roadkill- very funny, Lex thought, fate has a glib sense of humor. Well played.
A small town high schooler with the face of an angel. He’d probably never bribed a cop, never hired a hooker at 15, never blown over a hundred thousand dollars in one weekend just to make a petty point to his father, never covered up a murder in a night club, never done anything wrong in his life. But here Lex was, awake and alive while this kid who probably would actually be missed, mourned, who’d been loved by someone, was the one on the pavement. His father would have something philosophical to say about that, about survival of the wickedest, probably, but Lex would have to cut him off, remind him how easily his old friend Nietzsche had been torn apart under his wheels.
As Lex’s thoughts raced, the boy’s face stayed placid. Don’t you look at me like that, Lex thought hysterically. Trust me, if I could do anything about it, it would be me and not you. It should’ve been. Unfortunately, I was made for Greek tragedy. You’re just the sucker who got caught up in it. When you woke up this morning and put those clothes on and got ready for school, I bet you didn’t think you were going to die today, did you?
And then Lex thought he was going to throw up again and his shoulders crumpled forward but this time only a sob escaped. Apparently this was the part where he felt sad. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed, as Luthors were not supposed to cry, but he couldn’t stop his body from shaking like a convulsion.
When were the police going to come? Did anyone even drive on these roads in this back country, podunk, crap factory, hillbilly town? Or was it just the two of them? The last two people on a quiet earth save the sound of the river flowing beneath the bridge, and one of them was dead. Lex had just killed him.
It felt nauseatingly wrong that when Lex opened his eyes, blurred with unshed tears, that the sky above him was still blue- the same color as the boy’s eyes- and the sun was still shining down on them. Surely the earth should’ve opened up to swallow him by now. He'd cut a life short that would probably have consisted of normal things- a loving family, middling high school grades, tears at graduation, friends, maybe a partner he'd settle down with... And in exchange, what would Lex walk away from this to do with his life? Continue to fuck up everyone around him in his self generated whirlwind of self destruction until his father finally stopped financing him? Or choosing to follow in his father's footsteps, cheating people out of their money, crushing competition under his heel, living up to his neck in corruption and empty ambition?
He was afraid to touch the body. All at once, he was 9 years old again and by his mother’s bedside realizing that dead bodies and alive bodies look very different. One moment his mother had been next to him, the next it was just her corpse, as inanimate as a doll, an empty shell where the spirit had fled from.
When he summoned the courage to touch the hand, it felt… warm. Well, dead bodies could still be warm. It was late August after all.
Lex had taken fencing, piano, horseback, chess, polo, but never in all the lessons he’d been signed up for in his youth had he been given a first aid class and now he felt singularly helpless and useless. He shook the shoulder of the boy slightly, with his own trembling, blood stained fingers.
“I’ll give you a billion dollars if you just open your eyes right now…. Please…” Lex hissed under his breath. “I’ll do anything….”
Pathetic. Luthors never begged. If he somehow managed to stand up again and walk away from this bridge, Lex promised himself, he’d never give a shit about what Luthors did or didn’t do anymore.
He placed the palm of his hand on the boy’s cheek. His thumb hovered over his mouth but no breath escaped. Lex leaned forward and put his lips against the ones in front of him. He breathed into the stranger’s mouth as if he could give his own life as a replacement for the one he might’ve taken. If he believed it fervently enough, maybe it could be true.
Come back to life… Please… I’m not very accustomed to praying or begging, but please don’t let him be dead…It's just not fair. If one thing in my life can be fair for once, let it be this. Let him live...
Lex opened his eyes and saw blue, Kansas sky blue. The breath left him, all used up from the resuscitation or maybe they really had swapped places and he was on his way to dropping dead. Lex would be okay with that because as he pulled away the stranger blinked, lips parting and staring at Lex, he’d never seen anyone in his life so beautiful.
“I thought I killed you…” Lex managed to somehow say without breathing still. His chest was too tight for that anyway.
Wonder lay bare on the young man’s face as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, hesitantly, as if he was as shocked as Lex to find his body was still obeying commands to move. “I… thought I was dead, too….” he finally said. His eyebrows creased together as he stared down at himself. “You hit me. I should-”
But then something seemed to dawn on him and his expression suddenly changed, he swallowed and his eyes flitted around, landing on Lex, the car behind him, back to Lex.
“I…. you must have j-just skimmed me. Th-the side of the bridge must’ve… wrecked your car like that.” and then he did the most unlikely thing, his face crinkled into a bashful smile and he said “Sorry.”
Lex would’ve wept if he wasn’t still holding onto some infinitesimal shred of dignity. Instead he followed suit and burst out in a half mad, breathless, laugh, with tears in his eyes.
“You’re sorry?”
The stranger blushed self consciously, worrying his lip between his teeth. “About your car…” he mumbled.
Lex caught his breath, laughter still threatening to burst from his throat. “Yeah… Uh…. Apology accepted.” he finally said, unable to suppress one last huff of a laugh. He felt winded, like he’d just sprinted a mile.
Later, later, Lex would think about the car. Look at it closer. He’d examine the crash site and he would come back confused. And Lex rarely felt confused, would hate to be confronted with this new emotion. But that was for later. For the now, all he cared about was that he was alive, so alive it almost hurt his eyes to look at him like he’d been in darkness and someone was shining a flashlight in his face.
“You’re… you’re new here, aren’t you?” his dark brows creased again, sky eyes taking in Lex’s appearance and Lex knew he didn’t look like he was from around, he’d never looked like he was from around no matter where he was, but somehow the boy’s eyes didn’t hold any repulsion or judgement.
“I’m Lex Luthor.” Lex said- the name enough to precede any further introduction with his reputation.
But the other just smiled.
“I’m Clark Kent.”
End.