Fic: Six Weeks (Clark/Lex)
Aug. 2nd, 2007 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fandomcornerTitle: Six Weeks
Author: Hils
Email: ImmortalBeloved2000@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: CLFF Wave 21 - Leaving Behind A Family Member
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary for the beta
Summary: It’s not easy when one of your dads is a billionaire business tycoon and the other is Superman
When I was a kid, people used to ask me if it was weird growing up with two dads. I suppose it was, but I never used to dwell on it. Normal has never really been a word that entered my vocabulary. How can it when one of my dads is the most powerful businessman in Metropolis and the other is a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter who also happens to be Superman? The fact that my parents are both male is just another ingredient in the mixing pot of weird that is my life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s been hard recently though, since Grandma died. She was the cement that kept my parents solid, brought them back together when they had a fight and showed them what they mean to each other. Now that she’s gone there’s no one to help them, except me. Even I can’t fix things the way Grandma did. I couldn’t do anything about the fight, which resulted in Father moving out and Dad practically living at The Planet.
I still see them, but they never talk about each other. It’s always school, sports, if I have a girlfriend, how I feel about going to college. That’s my biggest worry at the moment, not that I’d ever tell either of them. In six weeks, I’ll be going to England to study at Oxford. I was so excited about it until this happened. How can I leave now that my parents aren’t speaking to each other? Neither of them is happy, a blind person can see that, and they’ve both wrapped themselves up so tightly in their work that they’re not taking care of themselves. They need each other; they’re just refusing to see it.
I have six weeks to get my parents back together.
* * *
Week 1
The first problem I encountered was that neither of my parents would acknowledge that the other existed. Every time I brought it up the subject was rapidly changed. This is awkward when you’re trying to get two people in the same room together. Still, my father is Lex Luthor. I’ve learned cunning and ruthless from the best and it won’t be long before I get to put my skills into practise.
“There’s an exhibition on Macedonian History at the museum. Want to go?”
Father raised an eyebrow and barely lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. “Conner, I’ve taught you all there is to know and more about Macedonian history. I sincerely doubt there will be anything there that you don’t already know.”
This was true of course, and I knew it. Once you got Father started on Alexander the Great it was difficult to stop him. I wasn’t going to let that interfere with my plans, though.
“Well, come and point out all the inaccuracies then. Come on, don’t you want to spend some quality time with me before I go to England?”
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t go down the guilt-trip route since Father is pretty much immune to it, except when it’s coming from Dad or me. Thankfully, it had the desired result.
“Fine, we can go tomorrow.”
“Great.”
Now to implement phase two of my plan. I waited until I was out of earshot before calling Dad.
“Hi, it’s me. Listen, there’s an exhibition at the museum that I want to go to. Father’s too busy to come with me and you know how bored I get when I go to these things by myself. It’ll help for when I start college.”
Dad was always telling me how important it was that I worked hard at school, I think maybe because he dropped out of college when Grandpa died, and only went back when he decided to study journalism. I knew that if I mentioned it would help with college that he’d agree, and sure enough he did.
“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Phase one complete.
* * *
Of course Dad was late the next day, probably off aiding some disaster somewhere. I had real trouble stalling Father, who was becoming increasing irritated with my need to use the bathroom, call someone and tie my laces. Of course, the irritation was quickly replaced by anger when Dad jogged over, still adjusting his tie from his landing.
The Luthor stare can be a terrifying and intimidating thing, and if I wasn’t a Luthor myself I might have actually feared for my life at that moment. Dad, on the other hand, was trying to look at anything except Father. This was going to be harder than I thought.
“You clearly don’t need us both here,” Father announced, fixing his eyes on me and refusing to look at Dad. “Clark can show you around. I’ve got business I should be attending to.”
I was about to protest when, surprisingly, Dad stepped in for me. “Come on, Lex. Conner shouldn’t have to suffer because of our disagreement.”
Dad sounded like Grandma when he talked like that and Father clearly agreed, because he simply sighed in the same way he used to when Grandma had talked him into doing something he didn’t want to do.
I had won. This battle, at least. The war was an entirely different matter
* * *
Getting Dad and Father into the museum with me was just the first step. Both of them were willing to talk to me about what they were seeing, but they refused to talk to each other. This was proving to be harder than I ever imagined it would be and my mind raced to try and think of ways to get them talking. That was when I saw it. The one exhibit in this place that could help me.
“Wow,” I said with feigned ignorance. “That’s a cool breastplate.”
I knew they’d seen it before. They’d both told me the story dozens of times. Now I just had to hope it produced the desired effect.
Looking at my parents I’m not even sure that they’d heard me. They were both lost in memories, smiles on their faces as they recalled Dad saying he could never imagine going into battle with a big ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest and Father making clear his intentions to rule the world before he turned thirty.
They looked at each other and the smiles faded. The rest of the walk around the museum was made in silence.
Back to the drawing board
* * *
Week 2
Some people might consider my next course of action cruel. I saw it as the next necessary step. Besides, Father had taught me enough about biochemistry that I knew exactly what I was doing. I would have never considered this option if I’d thought there was any real danger to his life. It was simply a case of modifying the flu virus so that his enhances healing abilities wouldn’t be able to combat it. Simple stuff, really.
Yes, I felt guilty. No one likes to see a parent suffering, but it was for the greater good. Once I’d been reassured by the doctor that he’d be fine in a week, I knew what I had to do next.
“Dad, Father’s sick.”
A pause.
“He doesn’t get sick, Conner.”
I could practically hear him frowning at the other end of the phone. He was clearly a bit wary after my stunt at the museum. Yet another reason why I’d had to create a genuine illness.
“It’s some new strain of the flu. The doctor says he needs rest but he keeps calling for you.”
Yes, the last part was a lie. Father hadn’t said much at all since being brought home after nearly collapsing in a meeting. He kept insisting that he didn’t get sick and that something more sinister was at work.
I’ve never been called sinister before, but if it gets my parents back together again I can live with it.
A gust of wind ruffled my hair, and Dad was in the living room. Result achieved. He strode straight into Father’s room and his face immediately softened when fever bright eyes peered back at him. He took a seat by the bed, and wiped Father’s face with the cloth from the table.
“Clark?”
“I’m here now, Lex. You can rest.”
A flicker of a smile curled on his lips as he closed his eyes. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Success!
* * *
Unfortunately, as soon as Father recovered things went back to the way they’d been before he got sick. Apparently, he had no recollection of his feverish talk with Dad and Dad seemed in no hurry to remind him. Having two extremely stubborn parents was a real pain and now I had to come up with a new plan.
Maybe it was time to bring in the big guns.
* * *
Week 3
I was watching an expert at work, fascinated by the way Bruce moved at the charity dinner, his attention solely focussed on Dad in a blatant yet also subtle way. I still don’t know how he did it, but if there’s ever a girl I want to impress, then Bruce will be the man I go to for advice. Dad seemed oblivious to the flirting that was being sent his way, but then he was always out of tune to these things. From what I can tell if Father hadn’t jumped him one day, they would never have gotten together.
Speaking of Father, he was far from oblivious to the attentions being lavished on Dad, but then that had been the point of this plan. I’m still surprised Bruce agreed to be part of it. He’s never kept his dislike and mistrust of Father a secret, but when I approached him about it he agreed, stating that he couldn’t stand seeing Clark miserable any more. Well, the phrase he actually used was ‘sick of Clark moping around and not focussing on his duties in The League,’ but I knew what he meant.
Father was on his tenth scotch of the evening. It may have been more, but I’d sort of lost count. His eyes were locked on Dad and Bruce the whole time, barely noticing the mingling people around him trying to capture his attention.
It was time to make my move. I casually walked over and stood beside him.
“Wow, I had no idea Mr Wayne felt that way about Dad. He’s all over him.”
I tried to sound as disgusted as I could, hoping it would stir Father into action. He simply sighed and took another drink. Great, the scotch had sent him into one of his morose, depressed moods. Not what I was hoping for.
“Clark isn’t exactly pushing him away,” he replied with a dejected voice. I could have just grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him.
“Dad’s just being polite! But Mr Wayne isn’t going to stop if he thinks you don’t care, and if you just stand here and do nothing then Dad’s going to think you don’t care either. I know that’s not true but you need to show them that.”
I was running out of time and starting to get pissed at the lack of progress that was being made. I really didn’t understand why this was proving to be so difficult, and was now considering just locking them in a room together until they worked this out.
“It’s not as simple at that,” Father replied sadly. “I wish it were.”
I could have screamed. I wanted to so badly. “It’s only complicated because you’ve made it that way. Dad needs you! Why can’t you just go to him?”
“Because he doesn’t want me,” Father hissed with such ferocity that I actually took a couple of steps backwards. I’ve never been scared of him before, but for a split second right there I was.
Then his words penetrated my thoughts. “What? How can you think that?”
“Something gave it away when he told me to move out,” he replied dryly.
No, this wasn’t right. Father had to be mistaken. All this time I had assumed that Father had chosen to leave. It never once occurred to me that it had been Dad’s idea. So stupid of me. Father always told me to consider all the variables before coming up with a solution and I’d just charged in without thinking. I looked over at Dad who was smiling at some joke Bruce was telling.
It was time to abort.
I was about to signal to Bruce to stop, when suddenly I saw Father approach them and place his hand on the small of Dad’s back in what was clearly a possessive gesture. What the hell was going on?
Bruce, as we’d agreed, quickly made his excuses and left as Father pulled Dad onto the dance floor. Neither of them was speaking and they both looked so sad. Maybe Dad had told Father to leave, but looking at them now I knew it wasn’t a decision he’d wanted to make. Maybe there was hope after all. This could still be something I could fix.
When the song finished Dad and Father graced each other with sad smiles and then went their separate ways.
“What was that?” I asked when father rejoined me and poured himself another scotch.
“We were just saying goodbye.”
Not if I could help it
* * *
Week 4
As cliché as it sounds, desperate times called for desperate measures. Father had given up on Dad. I could see it in his eyes and by the way he silently turned off the TV when Dad was on screen for more than a second.
Since the charity ball, Bruce had retracted his help, informing me that if my parents didn’t want to get back together then he wasn’t going to get in the way of that.
I was on my own.
I had to make Dad see what Father meant to him, and the only way I could see to do that was if Dad saw what his life would be like if Father was gone forever.
Obviously, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone but if I could get Dad worried enough then maybe he’d take Father back. It was the only option I had left now.
I thought about letting Father in on my latest scheme. With our two brains working together there was no way the plan could fail. On the other hand, if Dad objected to my idea, which he almost certainly would in his current state of mind, then that would be the end of it, and any future plans too. Best to keep him unaware.
“You look tired,” I announced as I entered the study. “Why don’t we go out somewhere for a couple of hours. I’ll make a picnic.”
Father barely looked at me. “I’m busy, Conner. Maybe some other time.”
There was no way I was taking no for an answer. I strode over and slammed the lid of his laptop closed. “You’re making yourself sick! All you do is work. You don’t sleep and you don’t eat. Now you’re coming with me if I have to get Mercy to tie you up, gag you and throw you in the car herself!”
He looked at me with those eyes that had once sparkled and lately were dull and lifeless. I wanted to cry.
“Please?” I wasn’t above begging now.
I got the smallest of nods in response, but it was enough.
“Not for too long, though. I have a conference call to make this evening.”
I didn’t answer. How long we were gone would totally depend on Dad.
* * *
Father was quiet during our picnic. Out in the light of day, I could see just how exhausted he looked. I didn’t think it was possible for him to become any paler, but somehow he’d managed it, and the paleness of his skin just made the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.
There was none of the usual engaging conversation about the state of the economy or his latest discoveries. It was like the life was literally being drained out of him.
Being apart from Dad was killing him.
“Want some wine?” I asked once we were finished eating. “I’ll drive us back.”
That got a smile at least, albeit a small one. “This was just a ruse so you could drive one of my cars, wasn’t it?”
I played along. “Damn, you caught me. So, can I?”
He tossed the keys over to me and I handed him a glass of wine. Watching him drink it, I’d have probably felt guiltier at what I was doing if I hadn’t seen how bad he looked.
As I’d calculated, the drugs worked quickly, and almost as soon as Father sat in the car he slumped to one side. Now I just had to go somewhere Dad wouldn’t be able to find us. Not right away anyhow.
* * *
As much as Father loved and trusted Dad, he’d made a point of showing me the safehouse he’d built ‘in case something ever goes wrong’. The walls were lined with lead, and it had a sophisticated kryptonite defence system, which Father had designed himself.
It was the perfect place for us to hide.
I left the car outside and dragged Father into the house. In addition to not sleeping, he evidently hadn’t been eating either. I was almost able to carry him, he weighed so little. I got him settled on one of the beds, and quickly relieved him of his cell phone, PDA and numerous other electronic gadgets he never went anywhere without. The plan wouldn’t work if he called for help before I was ready.
By now, Dad would have found the note informing him that we’d been kidnapped and that Superman had to find us, alone of course. If he didn’t, then Father would be killed, and I would be forced to watch.
Dad was more than likely already searching for us, and all I had to do was wait.
* * *
After about an hour, Father started to stir. Sooner than I’d expected, really, but I shouldn’t have been surprised, given his healing abilities. His eyes focussed on me and he frowned.
“Conner? Where are we? What happened?”
There was no point hiding it. As soon as he saw where we were, and that there were no kidnappers, he’d figure it out anyway.
“Uh…I put chloral hydrate in your wine.”
“Wha’? He sat up and groaned as the post-drug headache hit him.
“You should probably lie down,” I advised, trying desperately to keep my voice calm. “The drugs probably aren’t fully out of your system yet.”
Not surprisingly, he ignored me and staggered to his feet. I moved over and let him lean on me before he collapsed. His eyes narrowed as he took in his surroundings, and then widened as realisation hit him.
“Has something happened to Clark? Is that why you brought me here?”
He sounded so worried that my heart ached. “He’s fine, I just don’t want him to find us for a while.”
Father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’d better tell me what’s going on.”
“Well…uh…Dad thinks we’ve been kidnapped.”
I could see Father’s thoughts racing as he tried to process what I was saying. It didn’t take him long to catch on to what I’d done. “I see. And just how, exactly, did he reach that conclusion?”
I cursed my face for flushing red under his scrutiny. For a moment, I felt what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of his less than satisfactory board meetings.
“Uh…I left him a note saying that we had.”
“And why did you do that?”
“I thought that if he was worried enough about you, that when he found you he’d realise how much he missed you.”
Yeah, it sounded lame when I spoke the words, but to his credit, Father didn’t say so.
“How is Clark supposed to ‘rescue’ us when he can’t even see inside this place? Even if he could, he can’t come inside. That was the point of building it.
This is why Father is the genius, and I am just his wayward son.
“Uh…”
“Come on. We’re going outside and I’ll call him.”
“No.”
Father stopped mid-stride and looked back at me. “I’m sorry?”
“If we leave now, then Dad will know what I did and the plan won’t work.”
Father walked back over to me and ran his fingers through my hair. It was something he hadn’t done since I was a kid, and I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it until now. “What about all the people Superman isn’t saving right now, because he’s looking for us?”
I wanted to say that I didn’t care, but I couldn’t. The truth was, I hadn’t even thought about anyone else until now. “I just want us to be a family again. You’re wasting away without Dad and I know he needs you too, because all he does now is work, so he doesn’t have to think about it.”
He pulled me into his arms, and it was all I could do not to let the tears fall.
“Come on,” he said gently. “I’ll think of something to tell Clark, and I’ll try and take better care of myself from now on, ok?”
I nodded and together we stepped out into the dusky evening. Father called Dad’s name as loudly as he could, and a couple of seconds later, Dad landed in front of us. Before either of us could speak, he pulled us both into a hug.
“Are you ok?”
Father held on as long as he could before answering. “We’re fine. Our kidnappers had an attack of conscience and let us go.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know. We never saw their faces.”
As I stood there, an arm around each of my parents, I didn’t want the moment to end.
Unfortunately, it had to
* * *
Week 5
Things were better after the ‘kidnapping’ ordeal. Better, but not great. Dad and Father hadn’t moved back in together, but they could at least talk about each other in conversations with me. Father was taking better care of himself as he’d promised, and had lost the pale, gaunt look that he’d picked up over the last few weeks.
I had a feeling this was going to be as good as it got, and I would have to live with that. I would be just like the thousands of other people who had separated parents. At least neither of mine was drunk or abusive. I should count myself lucky, really.
So, I headed out to yet another charity dinner with father, only this time I had no thoughts or schemes in my head. Father had made it clear that he wouldn’t cover for me again.
“I just have to drop these files off,” he told me as we pulled up outside Lexcorp. “You want to come or stay in the car?”
Experience had taught me that a quick stop at the office rarely turned out to be quick, so I opted to tag along.
As we rode up in the elevator, I wondered how things would work out in the future. Would I spend alternate vacations with each of my parents, or would Dad be too busy saving the world and just see me when he had a spare day? It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I couldn’t keep it out of my head.
Thankfully, we reached the top floor and I didn’t need to dwell on it any longer, because there were two men in dad’s office and their guns were currently pointing at us.
“You said this place would be empty,” one of them hissed to the other.
“It was supposed to be! Well, it looks like we just got ourselves a couple of hostages.”
“Hey, no one said nothing about no hostages. That’s some serious shit, man.”
I was amazed when Father stepped forward, and interrupted this little argument as though there wasn’t a gun currently aimed at his chest.
“Gentlemen, whatever you want I’ll make sure you get it. Just let the boy go. He’s of no use to you and you know how trigger happy the authorities get when there’s a kid involved.”
Part of me wanted to be angry with him for dismissing me like that. I’m eighteen years old, not a ‘boy’ or a ‘kid’. The rational part of my brain knew he was just trying to keep me safe, and if these guys let me go I could get Dad to save Father.
“He’s right,” the more nervous of the two thieves said. “I ain’t getting shot for no one.”
“Shut up and don’t be an idiot. If we let the kid go he’ll call the cops, or worse, Superman.”
“I swear I won’t call the cops, and how am I supposed to call Superman? I don’t exactly have his cell phone number.”
The lie would have been amusing, if not for our current situation. I could laugh about it later when we’d gotten out of this.
The smarter of the two thieves snorted. “Well, of course I believe you then. You swore.”
I hate being patronised, even if it’s by petty criminals like these two. I could feel my body stiffen with rage, and it was only the feeling of Father’s hand on my arm that stopped me doing something stupid.
“Neither of you are going anywhere. In fact, you’re going to show us where the loot is.”
Father raised an eyebrow. “I hate to break it to you, gentlemen, but this is hardly a bank. The only things in here are files and folders on my business associates. Since neither of you strikes me as a budding entrepreneur, I don’t see that they’ll be of any value to you.”
“Don’t get smart, Luthor. You’ve gotta have some stuff of value in this joint. You’re the richest man in the city.”
I was starting to get nervous now. These guys clearly had no idea what they were doing, and dumb criminals were the most dangerous type.
Father’s voice was dangerously calm now, and I knew he’d reached the same conclusion I had. “I can assure you all of my valuables are kept in my home. You’re welcome to search the building if you don’t believe me.”
“How about I search you, instead? You’re bound to have some jewellery or something on you, I reckon.”
One of them moved forward and began to frisk him. That was when all hell broke loose.
It all happened so fast that I could barely keep up with what was happening. Father attacked the guy who was frisking him, knocking him to the floor with a kick, and knocking him out with another one. He was reaching for the guy’s gun, when a shot rang out. The other guy’s gun was smoking, his hands trembling.
“I…I didn’t mean to.”
The shock of everything that had just happened had slowed my brain down to the point of idiocy. It took me a moment to realise what he’d done. Then my eyes shot over to Father, who was staring in surprise at the blood blossoming on his chest.
My body went cold, so cold that I couldn’t move. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t manage that either. All I could do was stare in the same way Father was.
“Conner…” his voice was so soft and faint, but it was enough to bring me back to myself, and I rushed over and caught him as he collapsed, easing him gently to the floor.
“Just hold on,” I said, tearing off my jacket and pressing it against the wound. There was so much blood. I could feel it soaking through the cloth and onto my hands, warm and sticky. My father’s life was trickling away right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I felt sick, but more than that, I felt unbelievable rage towards the men who had done this to him. I could feel the white heat of it boiling inside me like I was about to explode. I focussed on them, and specifically on their weapons, the killing machines that had hurt my father in less than a second. I wanted to obliterate them.
That was when it happened.
I could feel the energy pulsing behind my eyes and somehow I just extended it, pushing it out into those weapons that I despised, and working it in between every separate component and forcing them apart from each other, until they just fell apart in the thieves' hands.
“What the…?”
“Let’s get out of here!”
Before they could move, I focussed my energy on Father's desk and it flew across the room and pinned them to the wall.
To say I was freaked out was an understatement. It was just like a scene from 'Carrie', but at that moment I didn’t care. The danger was over and father needed me.
“Conner? What’s happening?”
I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m going to get help.”
Help came to me before I could move as Dad crashed through the window and landed in front of us. His eyes widened when he saw Father, and he crouched down beside us.
“What happened?”
“He’s been shot. He needs to get to a hospital. Now.”
In one fluid motion, Dad removed his cape and wrapped it tightly around Father to keep him warm.
“Clark?”
“Shh. It’s ok, Lex. I’m going to get you to a hospital. You’ll be okay.”
I knew he was trying to reassure himself and me more than anything but I stayed quiet. Father reached out with the hand that wasn’t clutching mine, and took hold of Dad’s.
“I love you. Both of you.”
I could feel the tears falling now. He was saying goodbye, and I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t lose him. I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Papa.”
It was a name I hadn’t used for him since I was a kid. I don’t know why I used it now.
A smile twitched on his lips and then his eyes closed and he fell still. I blinked, and he and Dad were gone. Probably already at the hospital. I just had to pray they weren’t too late.
I called the cops, told them what had happened, and that I would be at the hospital. Right then, I would have killed for Dad’s superspeed.
* * *
When I eventually arrived at the hospital, Dad had already changed from his Superman gear into his regular clothes, and was currently pacing the hallway. As soon as he saw me, he hugged me tight. I never wanted to let go.
“He’s in surgery. He’s lost a lot of blood, but they won’t know how bad the damage is until they’ve operated. We just have to wait.”
I hate waiting.
* * *
Week 6
There was still no change in father’s condition. The surgery went well, and they were able to repair the damage, but he’d fallen into a coma, and no one knew when he’d wake up.
Neither Dad nor I left his side, except when ordered to by the nurses. We couldn’t bear the idea of him waking up alone or in a room full of strangers.
Dad essentially put his life on hold. He told The Planet that he wouldn’t be back until father woke up, and that they could fire him if they want to. He told The League they’d have to manage without Superman, and he only ate when I forced him to. He just sat by father’s bed, holding his hand and apologising over and over.
“I never wanted him to move out,” he told me one day, while we were waiting for the nurses to finish their work. “I said it without thinking, and then I was too stubborn to take it back.”
“What were you fighting about?” I asked
“That’s the stupid thing. He was right. He told me that I was working too hard and that I needed to take some time to properly grieve for Mom. I told him that if he didn’t like my lifestyle choices then he should leave. I didn’t mean it though. God, I didn’t mean it, and now he might never know.”
So, that was it, then. A few poorly chosen words had broken up my family. I wanted to be angry with Dad. I wanted to hate him so badly, but I couldn’t. Father didn’t have to have given in so easily. He left without a fight, and blaming anyone at this stage wasn’t going to help.
So I held Dad as he wept, and whispered reassurances I wasn’t sure I believed.
* * *
Dad was reading the business pages aloud when Father woke up. It wasn’t a gradual return to consciousness like I’d expected. One minute he was lying there, pale and still, and then with a gasp he was awake, and calling Dad’s name.
Dad was there in an instant, holding him and telling him everything was going to be okay, all the while peppering his face with kisses.
“I dreamed you left me,” Father whispered as he struggled to hold Dad, despite all the tubes that were attached to him.
“I’ll never leave you again, Lex. I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
As they kissed each other, I almost wanted to leave the room. No one likes to see their parents making out. But it was such a perfect moment, too beautiful for me to look away. It was everything I’d ever wanted.
“Conner?” Father suddenly called, seeing me lurking in the corner of the room.
I went over and joined them, wrapping my arms around them both.
“Are you ok? Did those men hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” I said with a smile.
“He restrained them by himself,” Dad added proudly. “Seems I’m not the only superhero in the family.”
Father smiled. “I never doubted you could do great things, son.”
I grinned. “It helps having two great dads.”
As they wrapped their arms more tightly around me, I knew then that my life was complete.
* * *
“Remember, I have super-hearing and I can be there in a few seconds if you get into trouble.”
I rolled by eyes. “Thanks, Dad. That’s reassuring, and slightly scary.”
“As scary as the fact that I have Lexcorp spies all over England to keep an eye on you, and make sure you do at least some studying while you’re over there?”
“Uh, no, not quite as scary as that. Good to know. Thanks.”
They both hugged me tight, having both made their dutiful parent speeches, and when I pulled away, they wrapped their arms around each other.
“I’ll see you guys at Christmas.”
“Bye, son!”
With a final wave, I left them. Sure, I’d miss them but the best thing about leaving your family is the loving reception you know you’ll get when you return.
No one could ask for more than that
The End.
Author: Hils
Email: ImmortalBeloved2000@yahoo.co.uk
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: CLFF Wave 21 - Leaving Behind A Family Member
Notes: Thanks to
danceswithgary for the betaSummary: It’s not easy when one of your dads is a billionaire business tycoon and the other is Superman
When I was a kid, people used to ask me if it was weird growing up with two dads. I suppose it was, but I never used to dwell on it. Normal has never really been a word that entered my vocabulary. How can it when one of my dads is the most powerful businessman in Metropolis and the other is a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter who also happens to be Superman? The fact that my parents are both male is just another ingredient in the mixing pot of weird that is my life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s been hard recently though, since Grandma died. She was the cement that kept my parents solid, brought them back together when they had a fight and showed them what they mean to each other. Now that she’s gone there’s no one to help them, except me. Even I can’t fix things the way Grandma did. I couldn’t do anything about the fight, which resulted in Father moving out and Dad practically living at The Planet.
I still see them, but they never talk about each other. It’s always school, sports, if I have a girlfriend, how I feel about going to college. That’s my biggest worry at the moment, not that I’d ever tell either of them. In six weeks, I’ll be going to England to study at Oxford. I was so excited about it until this happened. How can I leave now that my parents aren’t speaking to each other? Neither of them is happy, a blind person can see that, and they’ve both wrapped themselves up so tightly in their work that they’re not taking care of themselves. They need each other; they’re just refusing to see it.
I have six weeks to get my parents back together.
* * *
Week 1
The first problem I encountered was that neither of my parents would acknowledge that the other existed. Every time I brought it up the subject was rapidly changed. This is awkward when you’re trying to get two people in the same room together. Still, my father is Lex Luthor. I’ve learned cunning and ruthless from the best and it won’t be long before I get to put my skills into practise.
“There’s an exhibition on Macedonian History at the museum. Want to go?”
Father raised an eyebrow and barely lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. “Conner, I’ve taught you all there is to know and more about Macedonian history. I sincerely doubt there will be anything there that you don’t already know.”
This was true of course, and I knew it. Once you got Father started on Alexander the Great it was difficult to stop him. I wasn’t going to let that interfere with my plans, though.
“Well, come and point out all the inaccuracies then. Come on, don’t you want to spend some quality time with me before I go to England?”
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t go down the guilt-trip route since Father is pretty much immune to it, except when it’s coming from Dad or me. Thankfully, it had the desired result.
“Fine, we can go tomorrow.”
“Great.”
Now to implement phase two of my plan. I waited until I was out of earshot before calling Dad.
“Hi, it’s me. Listen, there’s an exhibition at the museum that I want to go to. Father’s too busy to come with me and you know how bored I get when I go to these things by myself. It’ll help for when I start college.”
Dad was always telling me how important it was that I worked hard at school, I think maybe because he dropped out of college when Grandpa died, and only went back when he decided to study journalism. I knew that if I mentioned it would help with college that he’d agree, and sure enough he did.
“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Phase one complete.
* * *
Of course Dad was late the next day, probably off aiding some disaster somewhere. I had real trouble stalling Father, who was becoming increasing irritated with my need to use the bathroom, call someone and tie my laces. Of course, the irritation was quickly replaced by anger when Dad jogged over, still adjusting his tie from his landing.
The Luthor stare can be a terrifying and intimidating thing, and if I wasn’t a Luthor myself I might have actually feared for my life at that moment. Dad, on the other hand, was trying to look at anything except Father. This was going to be harder than I thought.
“You clearly don’t need us both here,” Father announced, fixing his eyes on me and refusing to look at Dad. “Clark can show you around. I’ve got business I should be attending to.”
I was about to protest when, surprisingly, Dad stepped in for me. “Come on, Lex. Conner shouldn’t have to suffer because of our disagreement.”
Dad sounded like Grandma when he talked like that and Father clearly agreed, because he simply sighed in the same way he used to when Grandma had talked him into doing something he didn’t want to do.
I had won. This battle, at least. The war was an entirely different matter
* * *
Getting Dad and Father into the museum with me was just the first step. Both of them were willing to talk to me about what they were seeing, but they refused to talk to each other. This was proving to be harder than I ever imagined it would be and my mind raced to try and think of ways to get them talking. That was when I saw it. The one exhibit in this place that could help me.
“Wow,” I said with feigned ignorance. “That’s a cool breastplate.”
I knew they’d seen it before. They’d both told me the story dozens of times. Now I just had to hope it produced the desired effect.
Looking at my parents I’m not even sure that they’d heard me. They were both lost in memories, smiles on their faces as they recalled Dad saying he could never imagine going into battle with a big ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest and Father making clear his intentions to rule the world before he turned thirty.
They looked at each other and the smiles faded. The rest of the walk around the museum was made in silence.
Back to the drawing board
* * *
Week 2
Some people might consider my next course of action cruel. I saw it as the next necessary step. Besides, Father had taught me enough about biochemistry that I knew exactly what I was doing. I would have never considered this option if I’d thought there was any real danger to his life. It was simply a case of modifying the flu virus so that his enhances healing abilities wouldn’t be able to combat it. Simple stuff, really.
Yes, I felt guilty. No one likes to see a parent suffering, but it was for the greater good. Once I’d been reassured by the doctor that he’d be fine in a week, I knew what I had to do next.
“Dad, Father’s sick.”
A pause.
“He doesn’t get sick, Conner.”
I could practically hear him frowning at the other end of the phone. He was clearly a bit wary after my stunt at the museum. Yet another reason why I’d had to create a genuine illness.
“It’s some new strain of the flu. The doctor says he needs rest but he keeps calling for you.”
Yes, the last part was a lie. Father hadn’t said much at all since being brought home after nearly collapsing in a meeting. He kept insisting that he didn’t get sick and that something more sinister was at work.
I’ve never been called sinister before, but if it gets my parents back together again I can live with it.
A gust of wind ruffled my hair, and Dad was in the living room. Result achieved. He strode straight into Father’s room and his face immediately softened when fever bright eyes peered back at him. He took a seat by the bed, and wiped Father’s face with the cloth from the table.
“Clark?”
“I’m here now, Lex. You can rest.”
A flicker of a smile curled on his lips as he closed his eyes. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
Success!
* * *
Unfortunately, as soon as Father recovered things went back to the way they’d been before he got sick. Apparently, he had no recollection of his feverish talk with Dad and Dad seemed in no hurry to remind him. Having two extremely stubborn parents was a real pain and now I had to come up with a new plan.
Maybe it was time to bring in the big guns.
* * *
Week 3
I was watching an expert at work, fascinated by the way Bruce moved at the charity dinner, his attention solely focussed on Dad in a blatant yet also subtle way. I still don’t know how he did it, but if there’s ever a girl I want to impress, then Bruce will be the man I go to for advice. Dad seemed oblivious to the flirting that was being sent his way, but then he was always out of tune to these things. From what I can tell if Father hadn’t jumped him one day, they would never have gotten together.
Speaking of Father, he was far from oblivious to the attentions being lavished on Dad, but then that had been the point of this plan. I’m still surprised Bruce agreed to be part of it. He’s never kept his dislike and mistrust of Father a secret, but when I approached him about it he agreed, stating that he couldn’t stand seeing Clark miserable any more. Well, the phrase he actually used was ‘sick of Clark moping around and not focussing on his duties in The League,’ but I knew what he meant.
Father was on his tenth scotch of the evening. It may have been more, but I’d sort of lost count. His eyes were locked on Dad and Bruce the whole time, barely noticing the mingling people around him trying to capture his attention.
It was time to make my move. I casually walked over and stood beside him.
“Wow, I had no idea Mr Wayne felt that way about Dad. He’s all over him.”
I tried to sound as disgusted as I could, hoping it would stir Father into action. He simply sighed and took another drink. Great, the scotch had sent him into one of his morose, depressed moods. Not what I was hoping for.
“Clark isn’t exactly pushing him away,” he replied with a dejected voice. I could have just grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him.
“Dad’s just being polite! But Mr Wayne isn’t going to stop if he thinks you don’t care, and if you just stand here and do nothing then Dad’s going to think you don’t care either. I know that’s not true but you need to show them that.”
I was running out of time and starting to get pissed at the lack of progress that was being made. I really didn’t understand why this was proving to be so difficult, and was now considering just locking them in a room together until they worked this out.
“It’s not as simple at that,” Father replied sadly. “I wish it were.”
I could have screamed. I wanted to so badly. “It’s only complicated because you’ve made it that way. Dad needs you! Why can’t you just go to him?”
“Because he doesn’t want me,” Father hissed with such ferocity that I actually took a couple of steps backwards. I’ve never been scared of him before, but for a split second right there I was.
Then his words penetrated my thoughts. “What? How can you think that?”
“Something gave it away when he told me to move out,” he replied dryly.
No, this wasn’t right. Father had to be mistaken. All this time I had assumed that Father had chosen to leave. It never once occurred to me that it had been Dad’s idea. So stupid of me. Father always told me to consider all the variables before coming up with a solution and I’d just charged in without thinking. I looked over at Dad who was smiling at some joke Bruce was telling.
It was time to abort.
I was about to signal to Bruce to stop, when suddenly I saw Father approach them and place his hand on the small of Dad’s back in what was clearly a possessive gesture. What the hell was going on?
Bruce, as we’d agreed, quickly made his excuses and left as Father pulled Dad onto the dance floor. Neither of them was speaking and they both looked so sad. Maybe Dad had told Father to leave, but looking at them now I knew it wasn’t a decision he’d wanted to make. Maybe there was hope after all. This could still be something I could fix.
When the song finished Dad and Father graced each other with sad smiles and then went their separate ways.
“What was that?” I asked when father rejoined me and poured himself another scotch.
“We were just saying goodbye.”
Not if I could help it
* * *
Week 4
As cliché as it sounds, desperate times called for desperate measures. Father had given up on Dad. I could see it in his eyes and by the way he silently turned off the TV when Dad was on screen for more than a second.
Since the charity ball, Bruce had retracted his help, informing me that if my parents didn’t want to get back together then he wasn’t going to get in the way of that.
I was on my own.
I had to make Dad see what Father meant to him, and the only way I could see to do that was if Dad saw what his life would be like if Father was gone forever.
Obviously, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone but if I could get Dad worried enough then maybe he’d take Father back. It was the only option I had left now.
I thought about letting Father in on my latest scheme. With our two brains working together there was no way the plan could fail. On the other hand, if Dad objected to my idea, which he almost certainly would in his current state of mind, then that would be the end of it, and any future plans too. Best to keep him unaware.
“You look tired,” I announced as I entered the study. “Why don’t we go out somewhere for a couple of hours. I’ll make a picnic.”
Father barely looked at me. “I’m busy, Conner. Maybe some other time.”
There was no way I was taking no for an answer. I strode over and slammed the lid of his laptop closed. “You’re making yourself sick! All you do is work. You don’t sleep and you don’t eat. Now you’re coming with me if I have to get Mercy to tie you up, gag you and throw you in the car herself!”
He looked at me with those eyes that had once sparkled and lately were dull and lifeless. I wanted to cry.
“Please?” I wasn’t above begging now.
I got the smallest of nods in response, but it was enough.
“Not for too long, though. I have a conference call to make this evening.”
I didn’t answer. How long we were gone would totally depend on Dad.
* * *
Father was quiet during our picnic. Out in the light of day, I could see just how exhausted he looked. I didn’t think it was possible for him to become any paler, but somehow he’d managed it, and the paleness of his skin just made the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.
There was none of the usual engaging conversation about the state of the economy or his latest discoveries. It was like the life was literally being drained out of him.
Being apart from Dad was killing him.
“Want some wine?” I asked once we were finished eating. “I’ll drive us back.”
That got a smile at least, albeit a small one. “This was just a ruse so you could drive one of my cars, wasn’t it?”
I played along. “Damn, you caught me. So, can I?”
He tossed the keys over to me and I handed him a glass of wine. Watching him drink it, I’d have probably felt guiltier at what I was doing if I hadn’t seen how bad he looked.
As I’d calculated, the drugs worked quickly, and almost as soon as Father sat in the car he slumped to one side. Now I just had to go somewhere Dad wouldn’t be able to find us. Not right away anyhow.
* * *
As much as Father loved and trusted Dad, he’d made a point of showing me the safehouse he’d built ‘in case something ever goes wrong’. The walls were lined with lead, and it had a sophisticated kryptonite defence system, which Father had designed himself.
It was the perfect place for us to hide.
I left the car outside and dragged Father into the house. In addition to not sleeping, he evidently hadn’t been eating either. I was almost able to carry him, he weighed so little. I got him settled on one of the beds, and quickly relieved him of his cell phone, PDA and numerous other electronic gadgets he never went anywhere without. The plan wouldn’t work if he called for help before I was ready.
By now, Dad would have found the note informing him that we’d been kidnapped and that Superman had to find us, alone of course. If he didn’t, then Father would be killed, and I would be forced to watch.
Dad was more than likely already searching for us, and all I had to do was wait.
* * *
After about an hour, Father started to stir. Sooner than I’d expected, really, but I shouldn’t have been surprised, given his healing abilities. His eyes focussed on me and he frowned.
“Conner? Where are we? What happened?”
There was no point hiding it. As soon as he saw where we were, and that there were no kidnappers, he’d figure it out anyway.
“Uh…I put chloral hydrate in your wine.”
“Wha’? He sat up and groaned as the post-drug headache hit him.
“You should probably lie down,” I advised, trying desperately to keep my voice calm. “The drugs probably aren’t fully out of your system yet.”
Not surprisingly, he ignored me and staggered to his feet. I moved over and let him lean on me before he collapsed. His eyes narrowed as he took in his surroundings, and then widened as realisation hit him.
“Has something happened to Clark? Is that why you brought me here?”
He sounded so worried that my heart ached. “He’s fine, I just don’t want him to find us for a while.”
Father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’d better tell me what’s going on.”
“Well…uh…Dad thinks we’ve been kidnapped.”
I could see Father’s thoughts racing as he tried to process what I was saying. It didn’t take him long to catch on to what I’d done. “I see. And just how, exactly, did he reach that conclusion?”
I cursed my face for flushing red under his scrutiny. For a moment, I felt what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of his less than satisfactory board meetings.
“Uh…I left him a note saying that we had.”
“And why did you do that?”
“I thought that if he was worried enough about you, that when he found you he’d realise how much he missed you.”
Yeah, it sounded lame when I spoke the words, but to his credit, Father didn’t say so.
“How is Clark supposed to ‘rescue’ us when he can’t even see inside this place? Even if he could, he can’t come inside. That was the point of building it.
This is why Father is the genius, and I am just his wayward son.
“Uh…”
“Come on. We’re going outside and I’ll call him.”
“No.”
Father stopped mid-stride and looked back at me. “I’m sorry?”
“If we leave now, then Dad will know what I did and the plan won’t work.”
Father walked back over to me and ran his fingers through my hair. It was something he hadn’t done since I was a kid, and I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it until now. “What about all the people Superman isn’t saving right now, because he’s looking for us?”
I wanted to say that I didn’t care, but I couldn’t. The truth was, I hadn’t even thought about anyone else until now. “I just want us to be a family again. You’re wasting away without Dad and I know he needs you too, because all he does now is work, so he doesn’t have to think about it.”
He pulled me into his arms, and it was all I could do not to let the tears fall.
“Come on,” he said gently. “I’ll think of something to tell Clark, and I’ll try and take better care of myself from now on, ok?”
I nodded and together we stepped out into the dusky evening. Father called Dad’s name as loudly as he could, and a couple of seconds later, Dad landed in front of us. Before either of us could speak, he pulled us both into a hug.
“Are you ok?”
Father held on as long as he could before answering. “We’re fine. Our kidnappers had an attack of conscience and let us go.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know. We never saw their faces.”
As I stood there, an arm around each of my parents, I didn’t want the moment to end.
Unfortunately, it had to
* * *
Week 5
Things were better after the ‘kidnapping’ ordeal. Better, but not great. Dad and Father hadn’t moved back in together, but they could at least talk about each other in conversations with me. Father was taking better care of himself as he’d promised, and had lost the pale, gaunt look that he’d picked up over the last few weeks.
I had a feeling this was going to be as good as it got, and I would have to live with that. I would be just like the thousands of other people who had separated parents. At least neither of mine was drunk or abusive. I should count myself lucky, really.
So, I headed out to yet another charity dinner with father, only this time I had no thoughts or schemes in my head. Father had made it clear that he wouldn’t cover for me again.
“I just have to drop these files off,” he told me as we pulled up outside Lexcorp. “You want to come or stay in the car?”
Experience had taught me that a quick stop at the office rarely turned out to be quick, so I opted to tag along.
As we rode up in the elevator, I wondered how things would work out in the future. Would I spend alternate vacations with each of my parents, or would Dad be too busy saving the world and just see me when he had a spare day? It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I couldn’t keep it out of my head.
Thankfully, we reached the top floor and I didn’t need to dwell on it any longer, because there were two men in dad’s office and their guns were currently pointing at us.
“You said this place would be empty,” one of them hissed to the other.
“It was supposed to be! Well, it looks like we just got ourselves a couple of hostages.”
“Hey, no one said nothing about no hostages. That’s some serious shit, man.”
I was amazed when Father stepped forward, and interrupted this little argument as though there wasn’t a gun currently aimed at his chest.
“Gentlemen, whatever you want I’ll make sure you get it. Just let the boy go. He’s of no use to you and you know how trigger happy the authorities get when there’s a kid involved.”
Part of me wanted to be angry with him for dismissing me like that. I’m eighteen years old, not a ‘boy’ or a ‘kid’. The rational part of my brain knew he was just trying to keep me safe, and if these guys let me go I could get Dad to save Father.
“He’s right,” the more nervous of the two thieves said. “I ain’t getting shot for no one.”
“Shut up and don’t be an idiot. If we let the kid go he’ll call the cops, or worse, Superman.”
“I swear I won’t call the cops, and how am I supposed to call Superman? I don’t exactly have his cell phone number.”
The lie would have been amusing, if not for our current situation. I could laugh about it later when we’d gotten out of this.
The smarter of the two thieves snorted. “Well, of course I believe you then. You swore.”
I hate being patronised, even if it’s by petty criminals like these two. I could feel my body stiffen with rage, and it was only the feeling of Father’s hand on my arm that stopped me doing something stupid.
“Neither of you are going anywhere. In fact, you’re going to show us where the loot is.”
Father raised an eyebrow. “I hate to break it to you, gentlemen, but this is hardly a bank. The only things in here are files and folders on my business associates. Since neither of you strikes me as a budding entrepreneur, I don’t see that they’ll be of any value to you.”
“Don’t get smart, Luthor. You’ve gotta have some stuff of value in this joint. You’re the richest man in the city.”
I was starting to get nervous now. These guys clearly had no idea what they were doing, and dumb criminals were the most dangerous type.
Father’s voice was dangerously calm now, and I knew he’d reached the same conclusion I had. “I can assure you all of my valuables are kept in my home. You’re welcome to search the building if you don’t believe me.”
“How about I search you, instead? You’re bound to have some jewellery or something on you, I reckon.”
One of them moved forward and began to frisk him. That was when all hell broke loose.
It all happened so fast that I could barely keep up with what was happening. Father attacked the guy who was frisking him, knocking him to the floor with a kick, and knocking him out with another one. He was reaching for the guy’s gun, when a shot rang out. The other guy’s gun was smoking, his hands trembling.
“I…I didn’t mean to.”
The shock of everything that had just happened had slowed my brain down to the point of idiocy. It took me a moment to realise what he’d done. Then my eyes shot over to Father, who was staring in surprise at the blood blossoming on his chest.
My body went cold, so cold that I couldn’t move. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t manage that either. All I could do was stare in the same way Father was.
“Conner…” his voice was so soft and faint, but it was enough to bring me back to myself, and I rushed over and caught him as he collapsed, easing him gently to the floor.
“Just hold on,” I said, tearing off my jacket and pressing it against the wound. There was so much blood. I could feel it soaking through the cloth and onto my hands, warm and sticky. My father’s life was trickling away right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I felt sick, but more than that, I felt unbelievable rage towards the men who had done this to him. I could feel the white heat of it boiling inside me like I was about to explode. I focussed on them, and specifically on their weapons, the killing machines that had hurt my father in less than a second. I wanted to obliterate them.
That was when it happened.
I could feel the energy pulsing behind my eyes and somehow I just extended it, pushing it out into those weapons that I despised, and working it in between every separate component and forcing them apart from each other, until they just fell apart in the thieves' hands.
“What the…?”
“Let’s get out of here!”
Before they could move, I focussed my energy on Father's desk and it flew across the room and pinned them to the wall.
To say I was freaked out was an understatement. It was just like a scene from 'Carrie', but at that moment I didn’t care. The danger was over and father needed me.
“Conner? What’s happening?”
I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m going to get help.”
Help came to me before I could move as Dad crashed through the window and landed in front of us. His eyes widened when he saw Father, and he crouched down beside us.
“What happened?”
“He’s been shot. He needs to get to a hospital. Now.”
In one fluid motion, Dad removed his cape and wrapped it tightly around Father to keep him warm.
“Clark?”
“Shh. It’s ok, Lex. I’m going to get you to a hospital. You’ll be okay.”
I knew he was trying to reassure himself and me more than anything but I stayed quiet. Father reached out with the hand that wasn’t clutching mine, and took hold of Dad’s.
“I love you. Both of you.”
I could feel the tears falling now. He was saying goodbye, and I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t lose him. I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Papa.”
It was a name I hadn’t used for him since I was a kid. I don’t know why I used it now.
A smile twitched on his lips and then his eyes closed and he fell still. I blinked, and he and Dad were gone. Probably already at the hospital. I just had to pray they weren’t too late.
I called the cops, told them what had happened, and that I would be at the hospital. Right then, I would have killed for Dad’s superspeed.
* * *
When I eventually arrived at the hospital, Dad had already changed from his Superman gear into his regular clothes, and was currently pacing the hallway. As soon as he saw me, he hugged me tight. I never wanted to let go.
“He’s in surgery. He’s lost a lot of blood, but they won’t know how bad the damage is until they’ve operated. We just have to wait.”
I hate waiting.
* * *
Week 6
There was still no change in father’s condition. The surgery went well, and they were able to repair the damage, but he’d fallen into a coma, and no one knew when he’d wake up.
Neither Dad nor I left his side, except when ordered to by the nurses. We couldn’t bear the idea of him waking up alone or in a room full of strangers.
Dad essentially put his life on hold. He told The Planet that he wouldn’t be back until father woke up, and that they could fire him if they want to. He told The League they’d have to manage without Superman, and he only ate when I forced him to. He just sat by father’s bed, holding his hand and apologising over and over.
“I never wanted him to move out,” he told me one day, while we were waiting for the nurses to finish their work. “I said it without thinking, and then I was too stubborn to take it back.”
“What were you fighting about?” I asked
“That’s the stupid thing. He was right. He told me that I was working too hard and that I needed to take some time to properly grieve for Mom. I told him that if he didn’t like my lifestyle choices then he should leave. I didn’t mean it though. God, I didn’t mean it, and now he might never know.”
So, that was it, then. A few poorly chosen words had broken up my family. I wanted to be angry with Dad. I wanted to hate him so badly, but I couldn’t. Father didn’t have to have given in so easily. He left without a fight, and blaming anyone at this stage wasn’t going to help.
So I held Dad as he wept, and whispered reassurances I wasn’t sure I believed.
* * *
Dad was reading the business pages aloud when Father woke up. It wasn’t a gradual return to consciousness like I’d expected. One minute he was lying there, pale and still, and then with a gasp he was awake, and calling Dad’s name.
Dad was there in an instant, holding him and telling him everything was going to be okay, all the while peppering his face with kisses.
“I dreamed you left me,” Father whispered as he struggled to hold Dad, despite all the tubes that were attached to him.
“I’ll never leave you again, Lex. I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
As they kissed each other, I almost wanted to leave the room. No one likes to see their parents making out. But it was such a perfect moment, too beautiful for me to look away. It was everything I’d ever wanted.
“Conner?” Father suddenly called, seeing me lurking in the corner of the room.
I went over and joined them, wrapping my arms around them both.
“Are you ok? Did those men hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” I said with a smile.
“He restrained them by himself,” Dad added proudly. “Seems I’m not the only superhero in the family.”
Father smiled. “I never doubted you could do great things, son.”
I grinned. “It helps having two great dads.”
As they wrapped their arms more tightly around me, I knew then that my life was complete.
* * *
“Remember, I have super-hearing and I can be there in a few seconds if you get into trouble.”
I rolled by eyes. “Thanks, Dad. That’s reassuring, and slightly scary.”
“As scary as the fact that I have Lexcorp spies all over England to keep an eye on you, and make sure you do at least some studying while you’re over there?”
“Uh, no, not quite as scary as that. Good to know. Thanks.”
They both hugged me tight, having both made their dutiful parent speeches, and when I pulled away, they wrapped their arms around each other.
“I’ll see you guys at Christmas.”
“Bye, son!”
With a final wave, I left them. Sure, I’d miss them but the best thing about leaving your family is the loving reception you know you’ll get when you return.
No one could ask for more than that
The End.
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Date: 2007-08-02 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-02 09:30 pm (UTC)