Chapter Text
”Hey! Hey,hey,hey!”, Martha cried indignantly, when Jonathan used their shared kiss as a distraction to steal one of the cookies from the fresh batch.
”I want just one”, he whined.
”You cheater!” – “Just one!
Their harmless squabbling was interrupted when the telephone rang behind them. Martha blindly groped for it while she gave her best to defend the baking sheet from her husband’s greedy fingers.
“Hello! Kent farm?” – ’Sorry to bother you, Madam. Is Mr. Kent available?’ – “It’s for you, Jonathan.”
”Who on earth is calling this late on Christmas Eve?” Still licking his burned fingers, Jonathan went over and took the receiver from her hand. ”Yes, hello?” The slight exasperation on his face slowly turned into confusion. “Come again? … What?! No, why would he- … There must be some mistake, I-“
Martha kept an eye on Clark for a moment, knowing his habit of listening in on unexpected phone calls, always on edge, always alert to potential danger. Especially now that Jonathan ran for senate. At the moment, however, all of Clark’s senses seemed entirely fixated on Lana and the Christmas tree.
”Yes … Yes, I understand.” A longer silence, then: “Alright. I’ll be there shortly.”
He hung up and just stood there for a few seconds, clearly dumbfounded. Martha felt a trickle of fear run down her back. Whatever had transpired, it couldn’t be good..
”Jonathan?”
”That was the hospital”, he managed. “Lex has been shot.”
There was a sharp gasp from Lana, the news apparently grave enough to get through to the lovebirds in the living room. Martha, still wearing one of her oven gloves, covered her mouth with her hands, while from the corner of her eye she saw the blood draining from Clark’s face. When he reached Jonathan’s side, though, his features had been composed into a mask that gave nothing away.
”How is he?”, Lana demanded, dark eyes wide with concern.
”Alive for now”, Jonathan assured them. “But he’s still in O.R.”
”Why did the hospital call you, Dad?”, Clark asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
Seemingly at a loss, Jonathan opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering: “I don’t know how or why, but apparently Lex has named me as his emergency contact.”
This caused a collective outcry of surprise around the Kent kitchen.
”Why you of all people?”
”He named his opponent?”
”What about Lionel?”
”Jonathan raised his hand to stem their flood of questions. “I don’t know any more than you do.” Martha’s heart grew heavy when she saw him eyeing the car keys. “But I’m going to find out soon enough. They want me there; in case any vital decisions need to be made.”
Martha watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, probably regretting his choice of words when Lana’s eyes welled up with sudden tears.
Clark took another step in Jonathan’s direction. “I’m coming with you.”
”I’m coming too”, Lana chimes in, her voice wobbly but determined. Martha’s gaze switched between her husband and son, knowing that she had to give them the opportunity to talk freely without the girl standing by.
”There’s no need for all of you to barge in”, she said. “We’ll have to wait and let the doctors do their job.”
”But-!”
”No!”, Jonathan stops them firmly. “You will stay here and start the party. I promise I’ll call if there’s any new developments.”
Lana still looked like she was about to argue with him, the fine crease between her brows deepening significantly, so Martha gently took her arm and led her back into the living room. “Please, Lana, would you help me lay the table? I have my grandma’s china set in that cupboard over there.” She shared a last look with her husband who gave her a thankful nod before slipping out the door.
***
As expected, Clark followed him outside to the car.
”You don’t think this might be a ruse to harm you or the campaign in some way, do you?”
Jonathan paused at the open driver’s door. “I don’t know, Clark. I don’t know what to make of this, but it’s giving me a bad feeling.”
”I could run to the hospital and back real quick”, Clark suggests. “Make sure there aren’t any unpleasant surprises along the way.”
But Jonathan shook his head. “No, Clark. I want you to stay put. What if this is exactly the reaction Lex is anticipating?” He gets in and starts the car.
”Be careful, Dad!”, Clark said as he watched him leave.
Against all skepticism, the drive was entirely uneventful, and Jonathan reached his destination without any complications.
”Excuse me. I’m here about Mr. Lex Luthor?”
The young receptionist looked up from her screen, giving Jonathan a compassionate smile that he had little use for. “Mr. Kent? We’ve been expecting you. Please take a seat! The doctor will be with you in a minute.”
Reigning in his impatience, Jonathan went over to the little waiting area, which was eerily empty, even for Christmas Eve. The receptionist hadn’t exaggerated, because soon he was approached by a middle aged man wearing doctor’s scrubs and a serious look on his face. If the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, it had been a long evening for him. He introduced himself as Dr. Scanlon and shook Jonathan’s hand with a weary smile.
”I’m glad you could make it on such short notice, Mr. Kent. The emergency surgery went as well as was to be expected. We managed to get both bullets out – one had lodged itself in Mr. Luthor’s shoulder; the other hit him here in his abdomen.” Jonathan’s eyes followed the man’s hand to a spot roughly a handbreadth over and two to the left of his navel. He swallowed thickly; the possibility of this being nothing but a Luthor subterfuge getting smaller and smaller by the minute.
”There was a lot of internal bleeding, but his life is no longer in danger at the moment”, the doctor explained further, blissfully oblivious to any of Jonathan’s misgivings. “For the time being, we put him in an induced coma to give his body the time it needs to recover.” Dr. Scanlon gently shook his head. “Unfortunately the X-rays show a blood clot, which is currently compressing the spinal cord.”
”What’s his prognosis?”, Jonathan heard himself ask, wondering where the gaping pit in his stomach had suddenly come from.
“I’m sorry to say that there’s a considerable chance he might stay paralyzed from the chest down.”
”I’m afraid this is unacceptable, doctor!”
The sudden interjection brought their attention to the imposing figure of Lionel Luthor, who was currently striding down the hallway in their direction. “I’ve already contacted Dr. Litvak, a highly regarded neurosurgeon, and he is of the opinion that there’s still something to be done.”
Stopping in front of them, his eyes narrowed slightly when he recognized Jonathan, clearly wondering about his presence just as much as Jonathan himself. “What are you doing here?”
The doctor cleared his throat. “Mr. Kent’s name came up as Mr. Luthor’s authorized representative. Which yours – I might add – did not. In fact, his patient decree is very specifically excluding you from the list of people privy to his health data.” Crossing his arms, he fixated Lionel with a cold stare. “Which raises the question how you got your hands on sensitive information like that in the first place?”
Entirely ignoring the question, Lionel demanded: “What is this foolishness, doctor? I’m the boy’s father! I have a right to decide in his interest. And the decision is already made: I’m going to have him airlifted to the Davis clinic immediately. My son will undergo treatment by the best surgeons available and he will walk!”
Jonathan tried to fathom what he himself would do if it was Clark in this situation. Somehow he doubted this reckless endeavor had really been formed with Lex’s best interest in mind, but it might simply be born out of a father’s desperation. These last words, though, and especially the tone in which they were uttered, raised his hackles.
Clearing his throat, he intercepted: “Lionel, I’m not sure how I was roped into this whole affair, but it seems to me, in this case I have the final say.” Disregarding Lionel’s indignant gasp for air, he caught the doctor’s gaze. “What’s your opinion on this? Is there a possibility?”
To his credit, the man took a moment to really consider it, before slowly shaking his head. “In theory, yes, but such a touch-and-go procedure shortly after the recent surgery … His chances of survival would be vanishingly low. Not to mention he hasn’t stabilized yet. He might not even survive the transport in the condition he’s in.”
Jonathan nodded once. He took a steadying breath, dismissing the fleeting thought how much easier Clark’s life would be if Lex just died on the operating table. “That’s it. We’re not doing it.”
Breathing his relief, the doctor gave him a small encouraging smile and then took his leave. Unlike Lionel, whose gaunt cheeks quivered in suppressed outrage. His mouth sprang open, most likely with the intent to threaten Jonathan into submission, but he had long since had enough for one Christmas Eve.
”No, Lionel! Not this time!”, he growled. “I’m done being entangled in your shit! It’s no secret I have no more love for your son than I have for you, but I do remember Clark’s statement in front of the jury. I recall everything he said about the so-called therapy you put Lex through in Belle Reve.”
Come to think of it, that whole unsavory ordeal might be exactly the reason, why Lionel’s flesh and blood was putting more trust in a political opponent than his own fucking father, Jonathan realized.
“You wanna hold my son’s adoption files against me? Fine! Do it! Clark is a grown adult now. And he will stay my child no matter what!”
But Lionel was changing gears now. Jonathan saw it in the way his face slowly went from cold ire to feigned distress and just a touch of carefully layered compassion. He was almost impressed. “You don’t know Lex as I do, Mr. Kent. His resentment can be very dangerous. And believe me, he won’t appreciate your cautious approach. Not when faced with a lifetime in a wheelchair.”
But Jonathan wasn’t that easily intimidated. Not anymore. Not when he had seen the truth in Lionel’s eyes, clear as day: The sheer horror at the prospect of having to deal with an offspring who was merely subpar; incapable of living up to the ludicrous Luthor ideal in his arrogant head.
He stepped closer into Lionel’s private space and hissed in his ear: “Be honest! Is it really your son who couldn’t bear living with such an outcome? Or is it actually you!”
That seemed to finally shut Lionel up. Shaking with renewed rage he took a step back, then another, until he was slowly retreating down the hospital hallway. At the corner he threw one last glare Jonathan’s way. “This will have consequences, Mr. Kent. One way or another, you will regret this!”
***
”Clark. Here to accuse me of faking a disability?”
The sound of Lex’s voice made Clark freeze just inside the door to the gloomy hospital room. He crossed his arms defensively, eyebrows drawing together in reaction to the reproach, even though he did feel a stab of guilt at the words. It was not as if he hadn’t scanned Lex’s body from the hallway, only to find an ominous dark spot near his spine, just between the lower ends of his shoulder blades. The implications still made his heart flutter with dread. It’s so high up! What will this mean for him?
Taking the only visitor’s chair in the room, Clark placed it next to the bedframe and took a seat. He tensely watched how Lex used the bed’s controls to prop himself up a bit. “I came to see how my friend is doing, actually.”
Lex’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Oh, am I again?”, he scoffed. “How come?”
Well, I was gonna ask you that!”, Clark retorted. “You must surely think you are, because why else would you take it into your head to put my Dad in charge of your medical wellbeing? And while you’re on different sides of a senate race at that! Do you even know what a field day the press is having with this?”
That made the steel in Lex’s eyes soften a bit. “It may come as a surprise to you, but I haven’t had time to focus on that lately. So tell me, what’s their verdict?”
A reluctant smirk pulled on one corner of Clark’s mouth. “They are either idolizing you as a saint for trusting your opponent with your life, or calling you a lunatic.”
A chuckle. “Figures.”
”Why did you, though? Put him in charge?”, Clark asked. “You know Dad hasn’t the best opinion of you. And your political ambitions haven’t helped exactly.”
Lex gave him a wry look. ”Believe me, it hasn’t escaped me.” When he continued after a second, his face had lost all mirth, taken over by a vacant stare that went right past Clark. “After Belle Reve, I needed to make sure my father could no longer wield that kind of power over me. So I had my lawyers formulate an advanced directive, robbing Lionel of all legal authority regarding my health care once and for all.” Lex blinked, lowering his gaze on the thin hospital sheet covering his legs. “Problem was, I couldn’t think of someone close enough to me to consign that kind of responsibility to.”
When he looked up again, there was resentment in his eyes, but it was tinged with something softer, heavier. “I’m well aware of your father’s animosity towards me, Clark, but I also know he’s an honest man; a man with principles. I always admired him for that. Even though my neck hurts from looking up to him on his incredibly high horse.” Clark was glad for the familiar bite of Lex’s sarcasm. “I was certain that, when it really mattered, the honorable Jonathan Kent would find it in him to put our differences aside and come to a rational decision.”
”So you’re not upset? Mad at him for how things … turned out?” His Dad was still convinced, Lex would either file a lawsuit or straight up burn down the farm, now that he had regained consciousness and was faced with the reality of his situation.
Lex shook his head on the pillow. ”The doctors told me about my father’s attempt to have me airlifted to Metropolis. They also told me the odds of survival I would’ve had going into surgery.” Clark knew that the hatred on his face was meant for Lionel not Jonathan, but the sight still chilled him to the bone.
”I’m sure your Dad just wanted to give you the best chances”, he pointed out. “Like you did for him after the tornado, remember?”
“I was put in between two medical professionals, giving me contradictory advice, while time was running out! I had to trust one over the other eventually, and it turned out to be the wrong decision. A fact I kept beating myself up about for years!” The scorn in Lex’s eyes had grown corrosive like lye. “My father, on the other hand, acted entirely of his own volition, dismissing objections from the physicians familiar with my case in favor of some star surgeon who probably hadn’t even got to see my X-ray yet!” His breathing had become labored, and the heart monitor picked up on his distress. “So, no Clark ... I’m not mad at your Dad ... for not playing God with ... my life.”
A stretch of silence followed, while Lex was catching his breath, and the unnerving beeping went slowly back to its normal pace.
”What will you do now? Are you still gonna run?” The question felt clumsy and dense in his mouth, and Clark winced when his poor choice of words was finally registered by his synapses.
Lex’s glare told him he had noticed as well. “Fuck no, Clark! We’re not doing this! You are not going to walk on eggshells and start second-guessing your words around me! Do you understand?”
Clark nodded, not able to look at him for a long moment.
”I have months of rehab ahead of me”, Lex clarified, his tone and face carefully neutral. But Clark knew him too well to be fooled. He could tell Lex was frustrated; having failed some kind of test he had set up for himself. “The senate seat belongs to someone who can put all their time and effort into it.” His throat clicked as he swallowed. “And I’m going to need all my strength right now to rebuilt my life.”
There was a heaviness in his voice that clenched around Clark’s heart like a vice. At a loss for words, he let his eyes wander across the room until they fixated on the unused respirator next to the bed. Outside he had listened in on some of the nurses, who had expressed astonishment on how Lex was able to breath unassisted already considering the damage one of the bullets had done to his lungs.
”You’re a fast healer, Lex. Do you think that … maybe …”
But Lex raised a shaking hand, effectively shushing him. “I can’t think of that right now. Who knows how my meteor mutation might affect things on the long run, but this isn’t asthma or a broken bone. This is a neurological problem, not unlike brain damage from shock therapy. And it hasn’t brought me back my seven weeks of lost memories, now has it?” His gaze cut into Clark’s, before gliding up to the ceiling. “I’d rather try and focus on managing my current situation than putting too much hope in a miracle that might never happen.”
The sudden wetness in Lex’s eyes spooked Clark more than anything before that. For the first time since entering the room he took a real good look at his friend and realized with a start how utterly terrified he was. Before knowing what he was doing, he had crossed the distance between the chair and the bed and gathered Lex in his arms.
”You’re not alone in this, Lex. You can always come to me or Lana or my family. We’ll be there every step of the way. I promise, we’ll get through this together.”
It was a whole new kind of frightening how Lex’s body lay slumped against his own like a sack of corn, his core almost non-responsive. But the firm pressure of his arms around Clark’s shoulders was reassuring nonetheless.
”Together”, Clark whispered a second time, putting all his conviction into the single word. “I promise!”