Nightmare at 20,000 feet: chapter 2 of 4

[jlvsclrk]

Title: Nightmare at 20,000 Feet
Author: jlvsclrk
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: S4 – Goes AU during Scare
Word Count: 17,500
Summary: Lex has nightmares about being attacked by a monster only he can see.
Written for the Twisting the Twilight Zone challenge.


Thanks to twinsarein for the beta and danceswithgary for the lovely cover!

The story starts here


Chapter 2

Lex took a deep breath and released it silently, resisting the temptation to show any sign of exhaustion. By all rights, he should be too tired to think, but his mind had never felt sharper. He’d already sat through four conferences today and this was the last, a meeting of the research oversight committee. He’d arranged his schedule that way on purpose, since managing LuthorCorp’s scientific projects was his favorite part of the job. Much more interesting than the necessary but boring hours spent fine tuning budgets and corporate policies, placating the SEC and soothing the financial press. Lionel’s murder conviction had damaged LuthorCorp’s corporate reputation and his own recent arrest hadn’t helped. The vultures were circling: he needed to show them LuthorCorp was far from dead.

 

Since he’d taken over as CEO, he’d been struggling to reshape the company to reflect his own values and vision for the future. But like most giant organizations, LuthorCorp had a high resistance to change and the corporate culture was deeply ingrained. In retrospect, he realized that in the last months he himself had been the one making most of the changes, coming to accept power as his due and expedience as a way of life.  That had to change, but to do so he needed allies. He looked around the conference room.

 

“Fundamental research can’t be expected to deliver results according to an arbitrary time line!” That was Dr Boris Brizeli of Project Draco speaking, impassioned as always. Boris was one of LuthorCorp’s brightest minds. His own work tended to be at the fringes of theoretical science, abstruse even by Lex’s standards, but he had a real genius for spotting errors and opportunities in other people’s work. “We’re exploring what we don’t know and, practically by definition, we’ll make false starts, reach the wrong conclusions, then have to go back and start again. But all the major developments of the twentieth century started that way! Look at DNA, the silicon chip, …”

 

“I’ve heard it a thousand times before, Boris. However, we’re a publicly traded company, and our shareholders have a say in the matter. They expect profits and we have to deliver or we’ll be out of business. Lionel used to understand that before his illness caused him to radically distort our research priorities.” That was Bob Teller, a new hire and firmly in Lex’s pocket. The right man for product development, but too pragmatic to see the big picture. Lex scribbled a note to reassign him.

 

“Gentlemen, ladies,” said Lex, seizing control of the meeting. “I think it’s important for us all to understand that Boris and Bob are equally correct, and realize the implications of this for our business. We’re walking a fine line and need to allocate our resources wisely. I called this meeting for us to discuss ways to deliver some concrete results to show the outside world. But I want to do this without interfering too much with ongoing research projects. Any ideas?”

 

After a brief silence, Dr Hortez of Project Hydra spoke up. “Well, cloning… We’ve made some incredible breakthroughs here at LuthorCorp in the last few months alone. I wouldn’t hesitate to say that we’re the world leaders in this technology. Probably years ahead of the rest. But given the prevailing stance on human cloning…” She shrugged. “There’s practically unlimited potential for applications like organ donation but that’s decades away. The best we could do right now is clone the whole body and then kill it when ready to harvest. But I don’t think that’s the kind of thing we want to be talking to the press about right now.”

 

“Good god, no. But I agree. Cloning has enormous potential and we need to pursue our advantages there. I think though we need to back off on human cloning and go back to animal testing. A lot less controversial and you’ll be able to publish.” Lex noted many pleased smiles at this: publishing was a scientist’s lifeblood.

 

“Pets!” exclaimed Dr Felix Abbottson, head of Project Scorpius. Lex gave him a look and gestured for him to go on. “I mean, cloning pets. I bet you there’s money in that! I was so devastated when my Blackie died last year…”

 

“And it’s something we could roll out almost right away. Bob, I want you to do some market research and prepare a proposal on this. I want it fast, so I think you’ll need to drop off this committee.” Bob nodded, not at all disappointed to be moved back to the world of concrete goals and deadlines.

 

“Okay, thank you for that idea, Felix. Now let’s talk about meteor rocks and 33.1. I don’t think anyone can deny that there’s a relationship between the two.”

 

The lead scientist for the Centaurus team replied, “No, although the exact nature of the link has yet to be determined. My team has been looking for what we call the meta-gene in our 33.1 test subjects. We haven’t been able to pin it down yet, but we’ve got very good reason to believe it’s there, and in a significant proportion of the human population. But it’s normally inactive. The meteor rocks act as a catalyst perhaps.”

 

Lex nodded. “I want a team to go back and start examining the meteor rocks again. Boris, can you send me a list of names? We’ve been using the rocks for years without really understanding why they have the effects they do. I think we’ll find they act as a powerful source for stimulated emission under the right conditions. Which could mean hundreds of applications, from power supply to medical research to weapons development.” Boris nodded, a far away look in his eyes as the wheels started turning.

 

Lex resumed, “But first, let’s get some data together for the EPA about their potential side effects. Something that can affect the meta-gene can cause other mutations like cancer. And once we’ve go the EPA convinced, we can secure the bid for the clean-up contract.”

 

More smiles at that. LuthorCorp had a lot of experience cleaning up toxic sites, and there was the potential for huge profits when it was somebody else’s fault. Not to mention they’d wind up with a near monopoly on a unique natural resource. They didn’t need to know Lex’s own reason for sponsoring the clean up.

 

“Susan, I’d also like to discuss your proposal about the treatment regime for the 33.1 test subjects.”

 

Dr Susan Hunt led Project Bootes, where she acted as a sort of herdsman for her flock of meteor freaks. She gave him a briefly puzzled look since he’d rejected her proposal when she approached him privately last week. But she gamely began, “As you know, the inhabitants of level 33.1 are all criminals. Most of them were unofficially transferred to us from prisons and asylums since the state has no way of adequately holding them. We also have a few semi-voluntary residents who came here rather than face criminal charges. We treat them will all due caution, which means they live in conditions suited to a maximum security prison. That is appropriate for some, but not all. What I propose is a system of greater liberty for those who cooperate with our testing. Allow family visits for good behaviour. Perhaps limited releases. Give them some goals to work towards. Some way to be productive members of society.”

 

“Some of those people are murderers!” complained Dr Chang. “We can’t just turn our back on the danger they pose. Once a meteor psychosis sets in, I haven’t seen any case where a person has fully recovered.”

 

Susan shrugged, “There’s a Dr McBride at Belle Reve who claims to be making significant progress. I reviewed his results with Lex, and we concluded they were probably exaggerated. But I’m not proposing we set everyone free or just take them at their word. Really, it’s more a safety valve than anything else. If we don’t start treating these people more humanely, we’re going to reinforce their psychosis and turn them against us. Then, if anyone gets free…”

 

Lex replied, “Exactly. Level 33.1 right now is a necessary evil, but it’s also a public relations time bomb. But it occurs to me that we can turn it into an asset by implementing the changes Dr Hunt spoke of, and then telling the world about it. It’s good PR to let people know we’re keeping them safe. We could even set up an outreach program to hidden mutants and work to ensure they don’t develop a meteor psychosis to start with. Lots of goodwill there: the press will love it. I can even see us setting up a consultation branch with law enforcement agencies. We are the experts on this topic. We don’t need to hide what we know.”

 

Silence greeted his comments, but he sensed he had them on his side. Secrecy had been the byword at LuthorCorp for many years, and the company had devolved into an unethical free-for all during Lionel’s last months. They’d all seen or heard things that made them squeamish at best, and most welcomed the chance to move on.

 

“Any objections? Good. Susan, I’d like to see more details on this by next week. Next, I’d like to discuss Project Canis. It’s a military project involving meteor enhanced dogs. We’ve received a lot of complaints…”

 

The meeting went on well beyond normal business hours, but no one around the table minded. By the time it was through, Lex had made changes to over 40 projects and decisively broken the company from its past. A new LuthorCorp had been created, and Lex imagined a future where it would act as a beacon for best corporate practices. But for all the talk of profit and goodwill, Lex was all too aware of his real reason for implementing the changes. Clark had had the courage to break through the lies; he wanted to return the favour.

 

***

 

It was well after 10 before Lex arrived back at the mansion. On the long drive home, he’d sent a proposal to talk to the governor about getting the route to Metropolis improved. As much as he personally enjoyed driving around the back roads at outrageous speeds, his chauffeur didn’t have the knack and invariably wound up caught in traffic. He just hoped Clark hadn’t been waiting too long.

 

He was worried when the staff informed him that Clark hadn’t dropped by or left any messages. He tried calling, but Clark didn’t pick up. Curioser and curioser: he’d been sure Clark wanted, no NEEDED, to talk about what had happened earlier. He hated to think that Clark was regretting his decision to open up, or worse, was afraid of what Lex would do with the knowledge. Earlier that day, he’d been too shocked by Clark’s revelations to process much beyond the bare facts. But during the drive home, he’d had a chance to reflect further and cursed himself for missing the emotional overtones hidden by Clark’s monotone delivery and lowered eyes. He realized now just how much Clark blamed himself for letting him be taken to Belle Reve, though for the life of him he didn’t see what else Clark could have done. Lionel would never have stopped looking for him and would have ruined the lives of everyone in Smallville just for spite. And Lionel had known all too much about the mysteries of Clark Kent, thanks in part to his own accursed chamber of secrets. Lex shuddered at the thought of what could have happened.

 

Lex paced around the library and tried calling again, to no avail. Worried, he decided to drop by The Talon and see if Martha knew anything. He hoped that would prove a safer option than going to the farm and possibly running into Jonathan. That man just plain disliked him, and it was hard not to return the feeling in kind.

 

Lex pulled up at The Talon just minutes before closing. Martha gave him a strained smile, then a curt “No” when he asked her if she knew where Clark was. She silently served his decaf cappuccino then moved on to the next customer. Surprised at the near rudeness from someone normally so civil, Lex moved to his usual table in the corner to ponder his options.

 

At two minutes to closing, Chloe burst in with a flurry of energy, demanding a triple shot with her extra large mocha latte. Lex gave her an inquiring look, and she drifted over to say hello.

 

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” he inquired, nodding at her cup.

 

“I’m hot on a breaking news story: no rest for the weary ‘til it’s done!”

 

“Let me guess, somebody attacked a student and somebody, perhaps with the initials CK, stopped them.”

 

Chloe snorted. “That was last week’s news. And any number of weeks before that too. No, this one is a little different. Seems like our teleporting friend Alicia Baker is free, and Clark is the only one I’ve talked to who’s happy about it.”

 

“Alicia Baker. Isn’t she the one who stalked him and then tried to kill Lana?”

 

“That’s her. She showed up just as Clark was leaving for school and told him that she’d been cured. And when I checked out her medical records, they confirmed it. But I figure people have a right to know that she’s free so they can make up their own minds.”

 

Lex was silent for a moment, eerily reminded of Roger Nixon when Chloe used the “right to know” expression. He knew Chloe would never voluntarily hurt Clark, but she could easily do so by setting off a hidden landmine. Everything in Smallville traced back to Clark sooner or later, and his best defense was the townspeople’s normal blinders to one of their one. If she awoke their fears of the meteor enhanced…

 

“Chloe, I respect what you’re doing, but please be careful. It would be all too easy to turn this town into a modern Salem witch hunt. If you like, I’d be more than happy to read over what you’ve done and let you know what I think.”

 

“But, Lex, you’ve suffered through your share of attacks by people with unusual abilities.” Chloe made a quote gesture around the last two words. “How would you feel if one of them returned to Smallville?”

 

“I’d be worried of course. But I’d also try to trust that the authorities had good reasons for setting them free. As much as we may be tempted to throw away the key, I’m coming to understand that people can change for the better, if you give them a second chance.”

 

Chloe flashed her brightest smile and whipped out her reporter’s notebook. “Can I quote you on that?”

 

***

 

Lex returned to the mansion and tried one last time to contact Clark. Nothing, not even voice mail. Having Clark disappear put his mind on red alert, but he decided to give him time to deal with whatever had come up. He didn’t want to risk triggering someone else’s curiosity by starting a manhunt. Clark could take care of himself. He hoped.

 

He knew he should try to get some sleep: even his own enhanced biology needed more than the three hours he’d been able to get this last week. But he was too wound up to do so right now. Today had featured some of the most exhilarating moments of his life, but Clark’s absence this evening made it feel like all foreplay and no climax. He poured a glass of scotch, leaned back on his favorite couch and opened up his laptop to review more budget data. That should eventually do the trick.

 

He stands at the top of a tall tower, gazing down at a strange city carved into cliffs of ice. The light from a setting red sun reflects off the snow in dazzling bursts of colour. In the sky, the first stars start to twinkle in unfamiliar constellations. Almost directly overhead, a giant half moon now outshines the sun, slowly, so slowly dipping beyond the horizon.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“Dreaming,” responds a newly familiar voice, cultured but coldly forbidding. “Your mind is trying to assimilate what it learned today.”

 

Lex turns to face the voice and sees Clark standing before him. No, not Clark – it’s someone older, worn down by pressing cares. “You look like Clark – or are you a figure of my imagination?”

 

“Your science does not have the terminology to describe what I am. You may refer to me as Jor-El, the father of Kal-El. He is the last survivor of a great civilization. I sent him to Earth to save his life. In return, he shall keep Earth safe while your race finds its own way to the stars.”

 

“‘Keep Earth safe?’ What about ‘Rule them with strength?’ What do you really want from Clark?”

 

Jor-El’s face flickers then distorts. The cheekbones and lips are still familiar, but the eyes are colder. “On Krypton, we prided ourselves for keeping the peace in the 28 known galaxies. When we first visited your planet many thousands of your earth-years ago, we tried to help and live amongst you. But your people ever wanted more and schemed to control us through our friends and allies. Worse still were the rogue Kryptonians who became addicted to their power, setting off civil wars on Krypton itself. The Science Council finally ruled that the portals to Earth be closed and its location hidden. Only the House of El was entrusted with the knowledge, to maintain a watchful guard. Many technologically advanced species still cling to war and destruction as ways to expand their influence: they represent a threat beyond Earth’s current ability to handle. We also feared our earlier presence on your planet would make you a special target for our enemies.”

 

“And you are?”

 

“You may refer to me as Kem-El, although that it a vast simplification. My programming is based on a distant relative of Kal-El, updated with each visit to earth by my descendants. Through me, Kal-El has access to over 100,000 years of Kryptonian science and history. But I am not at full power. For this, I require the devices that humans call the Stones of Knowledge. They were entrusted to humans many hundreds of years ago when we withdrew from Earth. If they fall into the hands of an enemy, they send out a beacon to alert the Science Council to send aid. That is another function of mine: to ensure that those who come to help Earth do not abuse their power.”

 

“And what do you define as abuse?”

 

“That which is contrary to the will of the Science Council.”

 

“But the Science Council no longer exists. So how do you decide?”

 

“The Jor-El persona is accepted as the voice of the Council. It was downloaded into me when Kal-El’s ship entered the solar system. But Jor-El’s judgment is compromised on the matter of his son. We have reached, in your expression, a stand off.”

 

As Kem-El speaks, images flicker through Lex’s mind. He sees Krypton at the height of its culture, renowned through the galaxies for its wisdom and dedication to justice. He sees more recent Krypton, still mighty but culturally sterile, thanks in large part to a reliance on genetic manipulation to create “perfect” children. Family and community ties weaken as children are increasingly raised by the State. He sees Krypton racked by civil war, led by renegade warriors eager to restore the glory of a mythical past. He sees the promise of Krypton’s last great science project, the Brain-interactive Construct. He watches as, somewhat reluctantly, Jor-El launches the prototype only to have it perverted by his enemies and turned against him. He sees a star killing device launched towards Rao, Krypton’s sun. He watches as, in a desperate bid for survival, all too few ships lift off, most of which are caught in Rao’s death throes. But the smallest ship survives and heads steadily for its goal, finally reaching safety on Earth amongst a deadly rain of meteorites.

 

And out in space, he sees enemies: searching, ever searching; hoping for a signal to guide them to the Last Son.

 

“We have to stop them. Is that why you want Clark to collect the stones?”

 

“Correct. The Brain-interactive Construct is relentless and, even with billions of targets to search, it will inevitably find Earth. But the longer that discovery can be put off, the more power Kal-El will have to fight back. And the more allies he will have.”

 

“I wish to be one of those allies.”

 

Kem-El’s face flickers, then settles into the almost regal form of Jor-El. “That would be well. You are marked for greatness, Lex Luthor, but whether your legacy be for good or ill only you can decide. Beware the danger of expedient answers: of sacrificing others for the greater good. If sacrifice be necessary, make sure it is freely offered.”

 

Lex wants to ask more, but a movement behind Jor-El catches his eye. Something lurks in the shadows, darker than black. “Is there someone else here?”

 

The darkness shifts and Lex steps forward to confront it. Red eyes flash in warning. “The stones are not meant for you.”

 

“You’re not even human,” Lex whispers with dread. He turns back to Jor-El. “We have to stop it. Tell me how.”

 

The darkness descends over Jor-El, whose shape distorts and grows larger in the shadow. A voice of cold menace booms out, “Pitiful human, expect no help from the House of El. They are doomed by my final creation. Kal-El shall die alone. Your only hope of survival is to aid us in our conquest.”

 

“No, stop! Clark, help me!” Lex gives one last scream of despair as the darkness descends on him.

 

“We’ve got to stop it!”

 

***

 

Lex awoke with a gasp to once again find worried green eyes staring down at him. He shook his head to clear away the nightmare, then sat up with a sigh of annoyance. His muscles ached from tension and his skin felt clammy. “I hate this. I’m not going to be able to function much longer without sleep.” He felt too dizzy to stand and asked Clark, “Would you mind getting me a bottle of water?”

 

Without a sound, Clark moved to the bar and withdrew two bottles of Ty Nant. He handed one to Lex, then moved to the other couch and started drinking from his own. His face, normally so expressive and open, was entirely closed off. His body language screamed, ‘don’t touch’. The silence stretched.

 

Lex broke it first. “Clark, I’m sorry I was late getting home last night. My meetings ran late and then my driver got stuck in traffic. I really didn’t mean to let you down.”

 

Clark gave him a briefly startled look, then looked away again. “There’s no need to apologize Lex. I was waiting for you sure. But then something came up,” Clark trailed off vaguely.

 

“Something?” Lex prodded.

 

“Well, someone actually.” Clark flushed. “I don’t know if you remember Alicia, but she came back today. And I was so happy when she told me she’d been cured. I thought, great, all those people who’ve been hurt by that accursed meteor shower can be helped. I won’t have to spend my spare time beating up classmates then wondering what’s going to happen to them next. We talked after school for a while and it looked like everything was going to be OK for once. We had a real good time together.”

 

Lex wondered for a moment if this was Clark’s way of saying they’d enjoyed making out, before remembering just who he was talking with. Even if Clark was attracted to Alicia, he’d probably wait ‘til the fifth date before giving her as much as a good night kiss. He smiled encouragingly, “And then what?”

 

“Later, at the loft, I was waiting. I didn’t want to come over here too early. So Alicia shows up and starts to tease me about being alone on a Friday night. But I can see she’s pretty upset. She tells me her doctor threatened to lock her up if she didn’t stop seeing me. She wanted to run away, and asked me to come too. I told her no, Lex. I said no.”

 

Lex leaned towards Clark, sensing his distress and needing to offer comfort. He reached towards Clark’s shoulder, only to have him twist away. Lex prodded more gently this time, “And then?”

 

“She said goodbye and that she wanted to give me something to remember her by: a necklace. God, I’m so stupid! But I put it on, and then I felt such a rush. Just like the first time with the class ring. Do you remember that, Lex? When I borrowed your Porsche? It just felt so good.”

 

Lex nodded and suppressed the urge to ask for more details on the significance of the class ring. He could only assume it acted as a drug of some sort, not so strange in a town where meteorites transformed students into monsters. He could understand why Clark might find it liberating. He’d gone through his own phase of experiments with drugs before accepting that the drawbacks far outweighed the benefits. But for someone to dose Clark was a different matter entirely: he squelched the urge to hire a team to take out Alicia. Time for that later. For now, he needed to focus on Clark.

 

“Alicia put a stone from one of those rings in the necklace. It didn’t turn me into a monster, at least not right away. But it’s like every thought I think is the best idea ever. There’s nothing to stop me from acting on it. So I was feeling a little restless and there’s a pretty girl who wants me. I’m guessing you know what happened next. And it felt like the best thing ever, to be so completely in the moment.” Lex took it as a side of deep agitation that Clark wasn’t even blushing about a topic he was normally so reticent about discussing.

 

“Having sex is nothing to be ashamed of Clark, it’s perfectly natural. But I can guess how you’d feel now, knowing you didn’t have control over your actions. Knowing someone you trusted would slip you the equivalent of a date rape drug.”

 

Clark ducked his head. “Yeah. But it’s also knowing that these impulses have to come from somewhere inside me. Part of me that I hold in everyday. I hate losing control of that.”

 

Lex reached out again, and this time Clark didn’t shrug off the touch. Instead, he took another sip of water then resumed the story. “But anyways, Alicia asks me to slow down and make it special. I’m thinking of how to get things back on track and then it hits me. Let’s get married! So I propose and she teleports us off to Las Vegas. We get married for 50 bucks at some chapel of love after Alicia empties her bank account. I offered to steal some more, but she said that could wait ‘til after the honeymoon.” Clark’s voice was bitter.

 

Lex grimaced with sympathy, resisting the urge to defuse the tension with a joke about his somewhat similar experience with Desiree. He nodded for Clark to continue.

 

“Then we zoom off to a honeymoon suite on the Strip. We start to take off our clothes, and I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun. She was so beautiful, so happy to be Mrs. Clark Kent. And then, we’re finally on the bed and…” Clark gave a pushing motion with his arms, then continued, “She takes off the necklace.”

 

Lex blinked. “So she didn’t go through with it. That’s something in her favour I guess.” He thought to himself that maybe he wouldn’t need to hire a hit squad after all.

 

“I know. But she teleported away before I could start thinking straight. I was so angry that someone who claimed to love me could do that to me. And she didn’t even think it was wrong.”

 

“You have a right to be angry. I’d be calling the police on her right now if I wasn’t worried about them finding out too much about you. But you’ve always been more forgiving than I am.”

 

Clark laughed harshly. “Mom and Dad seem to think I do too much of that. I went home right away and thought they’d help somehow. Instead, they’re just furious that I ignored their warning to stay away from her in the first place. And Mom seems to think it’s the ultimate betrayal that I asked Alicia to marry me. As if that’s worse than all the things I did that summer in Metropolis.”

 

Lex resisted again the urge to make a joke, this time about the Kents’ seesaw response to his presence in their lives. He’d never understood Midwestern morality, but their reaction this time struck him as uncharacteristically harsh. “Maybe they’re just reacting to what happened back then, now that it feels safe to do so. Now that they know you won’t run away again.”

 

Clark sighed, “Maybe. But it made me feel worse than ever. So I came over here, hoping to sleep on the couch. Only to find you there.”

 

“And having another nightmare. I really need to tell you about it: I figured out a lot about what’s going on. But you know, I think we both need some sleep first. I can barely think straight. How about you take this couch and I’ll take the other?”

 

Clark nodded: he wanted to argue over who got the comfy couch, but knew Lex would prevail. They switched places and closed their eyes, but sleep proved all too elusive. Clark rolled over and saw Lex was also still awake. He said softly, “I can’t sleep, Lex. I’m worried about Alicia. I hate that she’s got no one to turn to right now. Her psychiatrist really did a number on her.”

 

“I’ll look into that in the morning, Clark. I’ve got some people who I think can help. And I’m going to see if we can get her doctor disbarred: I don’t want him trying this with anyone else. We might not be as lucky the next time.”

 

Clark gave a slightly strained but still luminous smile. “Thanks, Lex. I knew I could count on you. Telling you the truth was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

 

Lex gave him a fond smile in response before settling back down. “I’m glad you feel that way now, Clark. I hope you always will.”

 

Silence descended once again, soon broken by the sounds of deep and welcoming sleep.

  Continued in chapter 3