Haunted Immortals

Prologue

He should have died.

When the plane crashed down, and the debris had pierced his skin, he should have died from the impact.

It felt as if he had.

The searing pain of his cut flesh haunted him still, and it was almost as if it had never happened when he woke from his unconcious state and pulled the sheet of metal and splinters of glass from his torso. His hands, covered in his own blood, shook from the impossibility of it all as he watched his damaged skin seal its folds together with flecks of electricity. They pulsed across his torso, tracing a pattern across his flesh, and he was unable to tear his gaze from the miracle he was witnessing while his mind tried to process what had happened. Then the hallways of his mind opened, and he remembered everything with a daunting clarity.

"To our new life…" he toasted, not receiving a response. Voiced the question, brought about by overwhelming uncertainty... "What's the matter?"

And the answer, which now held more implication than he desired.

"Nothing. Everything's perfect."

Helen....

~ ~ ~

Lex woke from his dream. Sweat-soaked covers clung to his bare skin. The moonlight shone through the window, dancing across the wooden furniture, illuminating supple flesh as Lex's erratic breathing calmed, and his violent clutch on the sheet relaxed. He rose from the bed, taking the sheet with him, tying it round his waist as he stopped to pour himself a drink, and walked to the window. Raising the glass, he closed his eyes as the spicy sweet liquor passed his lips. He shook his head. She was still there, hiding behind his eyelids, haunting him with the wondrous beauty that had enchanted him. He berated himself for ever being so trusting, for being weak enough to fall in love. His father was right; love was a weakness... a weakness that had been used far too well against him. Yet he had let it. He had fallen hook line and sinker for the intelligent doctor, who had tested his emotional attachment to her at every level. And still he loved her, as he recalled the way her hair fell across her face when they made love, the feel of her skin against his own...

Shivering, he finished his drink in one shot, wincing as the liquor burned his throat and warmed his insides. He untied the bed sheet, and let it fall to the floor, stretching as he resolved not to take the risk of returning to bed and reliving the fateful day that was permanently etched into nightmare. He picked up a pair of jogging bottoms from the chair, and slipped them on, poured himself another drink and took a seat at a small desk, flipping open his laptop computer.

~ ~ ~

Adam Pierson sat silently in his newly acquired Metropolis apartment, contemplating the events of the previous week. He had been called to the city by the Watcher's - his true identity had come near to being discovered, so Joe had thought it pertinent that he assign him a case to re-establish the trust of the Head of Department after a mysterious phone call he had received concerning the ancient immortal Methos. When Methos had been told he would be relocated to Metropolis to keep an eye on a newly found Immortal in the nearby town of Smallville, he had been nothing but assertive on his desires not to go, but, with the situation of his identity under threat, he eventually agreed to leave Seacouver, and made plans for residence. Initially, Methos had contemplated setting up a home in Smallville, but deciding that it would draw too much attention to himself, he settled for the very expensive apartment that he now found himself feeling extremely comfortable in.

The furniture was rich and dark. The finest produced Mahogany contrasting and complementing the light cream-coloured walls and suite. Dark wooden floors and decorative rugs just added to the aged appearance of his new home, and Methos felt as if he were back in an older time, when he had been free of the worry of hiding behind false identity, yet capable of the utmost destruction to the point where all he wanted to do was disappear…

He sipped at his wine, the spicy taste dancing across his tongue as his attention was drawn away from his memories and to his current "case." The files had been delivered to him by courier as soon as the identity of the new immortal had been ascertained, but Methos hadn't looked over all of the details thoroughly; as soon as he'd seen his future student's name on the file, he'd resisted, unbelieving. Sighing, he picked up the file and stopped delaying the inevitable. The Immortal's name screamed out at him in bold lettering: "Lex Luthor…"

He flicked through the pages of the file, silently cursing while his eyes discovered the truth of Luthor's life; his illegal dealings, his work ethics, his relationship with his father, and his consistent belief of himself being destined for greatness. Unfortunately, Methos feared that such greatness would lead to evil, and as much as he wanted to ignore that fact, he couldn't.
Methos' own past held too much darkness for him to ever receive redemption for the acts of pure evil he had committed, and as much as he wanted to see the ruthlessness in Lex's face as he looked at the pictures in the file, and agree with the hypothesis presented to him by his peers, he found it impossible. In photographs of the young man with his father, Lex fronted as stone cold; something that anyone with an experienced eye would be able to recognise as a façade. In his solitude, though, Lex, while appearing powerful and bold, seemed somehow vulnerable.

Decision made, Methos moved to his computer and pulled up the location records he had on Lex. The only number listed was the business number for the LuthorCorp plant in Smallville, so he picked up his mobile phone and dialled. An answering service clicked on and Methos sighed. He waited for the beep, and then spoke.

"Mr Luthor… my name is Adam Pierson. I think I have some information that you may be interested in, regarding your recent change of status. I'm sure you are aware of what it is that I am referring to. I would prefer to discuss this in person. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."

He hung up the phone. His message was short and to the point, and he hoped that the young man had the sense, or at the very least enough curiosity, to contact him. As far as Methos was concerned, the quicker Lex Luthor understood what had been happening to him for the past week, the better it would be. For everyone...

Chapter One

Lex woke to the feel of the sun warming his skin. He still sat at his computer desk, his body tucked into itself on the chair, aching from the discomfort of sleeping whilst upright. It seemed too regular a routine already, and yet it had only been two weeks. A fortnight of confinement and isolation, brought about by a lifetime of secrets and sins. Lex sighed and raised his hands to his face, rubbing his forehead in frustration, catching the blink from the answering machine out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he wondered why he would have a message. Everyone still thought he was happily enjoying his honeymoon, and the bliss that accompanied marriage… he could think of no one that would contact him. Curious, he pressed the playback button, and listened intently…

"You have one new message, Mr. Luthor." Silently, he cursed himself for having everything personalised. Just the sound of his own name made him wince. He drifted into memory again… the day of the wedding, seeming so long ago, now fresh in his mind. The joy he had felt when he had seen Helen walking down the aisle to him. The elation he had felt as she had uttered those two words that had ultimately changed his life.

"I do."

Two little words that meant more to him than anything ever had... The knowledge, that embedded in that statement was another, declaring that someone wanted to be with him, someone wanted to love him, amazed the young man. He had never thought that he would marry, and certainly not marry for love; reciprocated at that. Of course that was before her; before his Helen... not that she was ever really his in the first place.

The last words of the message broke him from his reverie…

"…recent change of status. I'm sure you are aware of what it is that I am referring to. I would prefer to discuss this in person. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."

The machine relayed the caller ID to him in a monotonous tone… His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering if this was some scam of his father's, a trick to find out whether his plans with Helen had worked. He played back the message again. The man certainly didn't sound threatening, or as if whatever information he had was possible blackmailing material. God knew he'd had enough experience to tell when that was the case. Besides, he assumed that Helen had already told the senior Luthor what had occurred the afternoon of their wedding day, so there would be no reason for his father to send someone else to check. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. He'd just make sure to be prepared when he arranged to meet Mr. Pierson, and the easiest way to ensure that he was prepared was to be in control of the circumstances under which their meeting took place. He glanced at the clock on the mantle; eleven thirty… he picked up the phone and dialled the number relayed to him by the machine.

~ ~ ~

Methos picked up the phone after two rings. He wasn't given the chance to speak first.

"Adam Pierson?"

"This is he."

"Lex Luthor."

The slight tension-filled pause didn't go unnoticed by Methos. He went to speak but was interrupted.

"Your message intrigued me. I have nothing scheduled for today. I'll expect you at the mansion this afternoon. I'm presuming you don't need directions."

Methos stared at the phone as if it was unfamiliar. He caught his confusion, shook his head, and placed the phone back on the hook… Of course he understood that Lex had been through an ordeal, but not knowing the details made it near impossible for Methos to judge the situation. It amused him how the young man had addressed him. With purely formal conversation, much like one would find in a business deal. He was obviously prepared for the worst, Methos thought to himself.

He glanced at the clock. Two hours to get to Smallville, roughly; that gave him enough time to wash up and sort out some paperwork before he drove to meet Lex. He walked to the bathroom and started the shower. He stripped quickly, and after checking the water temperature, stepped under the spray. As he ducked his head under the warm spray, the sluice caressed his body, travelling the planes of his flesh, bringing back long-hidden memories.

//Tibet - 852 BC

The hot scorch of the midday sun on bare flesh was painful. Water splashed from above, caressing skin and flesh, relieving torment for a short time, before aches and pains became too much. The sting of grief, though, does not compare. Tears welled in Methos' eyes as he hauled another casket of water towards the monastery; sand from the path attaching itself to the sheen of sweat, apparent on his skin. Ruth had died not so long ago, leaving him no purpose, no life. Yet now he lived out of promise to her, promise to make his immortality worthwhile. His mind weighed heavily on her death, expected as it was. Grief and loss could've turned him to stone. It was for her he continued, for her he remained. Learning, studying, hoping to better himself; because of a promise to a woman who saw the best in him.//

Methos sighed. So it was Ruth that haunted him today, with her tall, slim physique, her crystal blue eyes, and her unconditional love.

Atonement, he decided, was a bitch from hell.

He got out of the shower after washing quickly, the suds somewhat cleansing him. He wrapped a towel round his middle and grabbed another to dry his hair, towelling it off as he strode to the kitchen to get a drink. He contemplated a glass of wine, and decided against it, settling for some juice instead. Drinking it quickly, he placed the empty glass on the side, and went to his bedroom. The light of day filtered in through the Venetian blinds, and he sighed, as he scanned the room, noting how empty it felt. For all his comfort in his new apartment, this room was the only one that didn't feel like his own. There was no sign of it having been slept in, which of course, there wouldn't be, because he'd spent his nights on the sofa, falling asleep listening to music, or just by generally thinking too much. Lex Luthor was a powerful man, and his father… Methos didn't even want to think about the infamous Lionel Luthor.

Sighing, he stood and dressed. Casual but comfortable was best, he decided, so he donned a pair of black trousers, and a decent shirt. The last thing he wanted was to give the impression of the meeting being business, though of course, it would be what Lex would be expecting. If anything it was far from business. Methos wondered how the young immortal would react when he was told what he was; did he even know that he was, well, dead? Shuddering at the thought, Methos ran his fingers through his hair, which was now only slightly damp. He moved back into the main room, took the files from the table, and placed them in his bag, which he slung over his shoulder. He grabbed his keys from the mantle, and left for the trip to Smallville.

Chapter Two

Lex opened the door to the mansion as his visitor's car pulled into the driveway. As he turned to the mirror, and straightened his clothes, he felt a sharp pain in his head and moved his hands up to grasp at the sides of his face. It was intense and uncomfortable for a few seconds, as he felt the pain stinging at his temples and taper off. It travelled down past his face, through his neck, and settled in the centre of his torso, before it simply went away. He shook himself and looked to the mirror again, as if expecting to see someone other than himself looking back at him. Shrugging it off as a momentary problem, caused by lack of sleep, his thoughts returned to his situation. He moved out of view of the doorway, and waited. As he heard a tentative call of his name, followed by light footfalls, he exited the shadows.

"Mr. Pierson, I presume." Methos nodded. "Come through to the office."

Lex led the way, and Methos followed cautiously. It wasn't everyday that he lacked control of the situations he found himself in, but he decided to give Lex the benefit of the doubt, and played it his way. Nonchalantly, Lex poured himself a drink and gestured towards the leather seats by the fireplace.

"So, what is it that you would like to discuss, Mr. Pierson?"

"Adam, please. Mr. Luthor, I can assure you there is nothing untoward in my visiting you. I merely feel that you may be interested in what I have to say." Methos sat, shrugging off his coat and placing it over the arm of his chair. Lex raised an eyebrow in speculation, noting his visitor's self-assuredness as he made himself 'at home.'

"Do you know my father, Mr. Pierson?"

"I know of him, yes."

"Then you're aware that he is a very determined man. Much like myself."

Methos' brow furrowed in confusion. He wasn't sure where this conversation was headed, but he was intrigued. He nodded, and Lex continued.

"His level of power and control, however, exceeds my own, at least for the moment." Lex smiled cruelly, his words punctuated with venom and distrust. "If I were to ask you if he sent you here, you would say no; you're already shaking your head in denial, but that's not of any implication to me. My father has the power to control anyone, at any time, and the conviction to do it. Tell me, Mr. Pierson, why should I believe that what you have to tell me isn't merely another orchestration of my father's to ruin my life? What could you possibly tell me that I am not aware of already?"

Methos' hand instinctively moved up to brush his hair back from his forehead. Lex's gaze was burning into him with a cool, collected anger that he had not seen in many but himself. His mind ran through the possibilities of his answers; finding none that were acceptable, save the truth, he sighed.

"I do know your father, but that's not why I'm here. This has nothing to do with him. If you do know about what I have to tell you, which you couldn't," or we'd be killing each other right now, he said to himself silently, "then we wouldn't be having this visit at all."

It was Lex who looked confused now, and he found himself intrigued by the stranger's words. Blackmail had been ruled out as soon as his visitor had entered the office and sat down. From Lex's experience, people who wanted money from him often just got right to the point. He would pay them off, or threaten them with disparaging information that could be used against them, and they would leave. It was obvious, however, that Mr. Pierson had no intention of going anywhere any time soon. He sighed.

Methos looked Lex over, seeing his inner thoughts as clear as day. Lex couldn't think of a reason for him to be there, and it seemed more than possible that Lex knew that Lionel wasn't involved. Methos took the next step cautiously, not one for socialising himself, and lacking the ability to ease himself into it like MacLeod did at the drop of a hat; he took the initiative. Standing, he moved slightly towards Lex, not wanting to appear confrontational.

"Perhaps we should start again." Lex looked at him questioningly, and he put his hand out in greeting. "Mr. Luthor, my name is Adam Pierson. It's nice to meet you."

Lex took the proffered hand, and shook it once, sharply, before releasing it. Methos took the opportunity of the young immortal's tentativeness to continue talking. He walked to the display cabinet, taking a crystal tumbler from the counter top, and poured himself a drink from the decanter. "May I?"

The look on Lex's face was priceless. He looked dumbfounded, and Methos suppressed a laugh. Now that he had the full attention he desired, he made his move.

"You may want to sit down." Methos spoke, his tone indicating it was more of an order than a request. Lex, of course, followed it, and Methos was thankful for his years of experience spent practising controlling techniques. It wasn't so much about controlling people's actions as it was conveying to them through tone of voice and body language that they would do what you told them to. Oblivious Influence was his dubbed nickname for it. He smiled slightly, and moved to sit opposite Lex.

"Two weeks ago, you married a young doctor by the name of Helen Bryce; against the wishes of your father, might I add. And then something inexplicable happened. Unfortunately I don't know the details; I was hoping you may be able to help me with that." Lex looked surprised. "However, I know enough to determine that whatever it was that happened was life-changing. In fact, one could say that you were indeed reborn."

"Reborn?" Lex questioned.

"Yes," Methos replied, "In fact, that statement is more appropriate than you believe it to be."

Lex raised his hand, as if to halt the conversation, but Methos shook his head. "Please, let me continue. You are haunted by dreams of the events that occurred, and find it difficult to sleep. More often than not, you stay awake until you can't fight it anymore, and aren't even aware that you have slept until you wake, probably from your recurring dream, or nightmare." He gave Lex a piercing look, and kept talking. "I know what happened to you, Mr. Luthor. I don't know the details. I know that you have recurring dreams about… whatever it was that happened. I know you feel stronger, yet weakened. I know that when I arrived here today you felt a pain unlike any you have ever experienced, and I know how to help you." Methos stopped then, allowing Lex time to absorb what he had said, waiting for the inevitable questions. He drank the liquor down in one smooth motion, and moved to the cabinet again, plucking Lex's glass out of his hand as he did, and refilling them both, before passing Lex his glass back.

The sight of a fresh drink in front of him broke Lex's silence. He looked up at Methos, shock etched on his features. He'd told no one of his dreams; there was no one to tell. He just assumed it was a natural way of coping with what had happened to him, and how much hurt it had caused. It was only right, after all, for him to be plagued by memories of Helen, and her betrayal of him, especially after all he had done to her. Organising the break in at her office, stealing the vial of blood, and then admitting it… He berated himself for his naivety. He had been in love, and still was. Was it such a bad thing? Apparently it was, for a Luthor anyway, or at least Luthor Junior. He'd only loved his mother and Pamela before Helen, and they'd been taken from him by death and his father, to a certain extent. Why not just exclude the former from the equation and let himself believe Helen's betrayal was down to Lionel; after all, it seemed fairly apparent that it was.

"How do you know all this? What are you? Who are you?" Lex stalled, trying to gain control over himself. "What else should I know?"

"You died, Alexander." It was the first time Methos addressed him with his given name. "You were reborn."

Confusion again passed across Lex's features, before his eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out. The crystal glass fell to floor and smashed, the echo resounding through the halls of the mansion.

~ ~ ~

Lex woke sometime later, to the aroma of freshly cooked chicken and spices. He wondered for a moment why he could smell food, seeing as there was no one around to cook for him - all the staff thought he was on honeymoon, and had been relieved for the fortnight - when he remembered his visitor, and his last words to him before everything turned to black. Lex stood too quickly and swayed with dizziness. He composed himself, regained his balance, and walked out of the office and down the hall to the kitchen, only half surprised to see his visitor at the table while something sizzled on top of the stove.

Methos looked up at Lex from his seat, and smiled slightly.

"Oh good, you're awake. I helped myself to a drink; hope you don't mind," he said, raising his glass of wine. As Methos stood, Lex went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink of the cool liquid, sighing contentedly as it quenched his thirst. He looked questioningly at Methos, and then at the stove.

"Oh, I thought you may be hungry; you've been out for a while. When I was sure you weren't unconscious, and that you were just sleeping, I thought it best to leave you be. I popped into town and picked up some food. There's absolutely nothing edible in this place."

Lex nodded. He felt like he'd lost the ability to speak, and that he was undoubtedly making himself look like a fool in front of this man who looked so at ease in his kitchen It was almost as if the mansion was his home, and he always cooked food for the two of them.

"So, you said that I…" Lex paused for a moment, as Methos looked at him with concern. "You said I died, and that I was reborn?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible."

"If you believed that, you would have told me to leave by now."

Lex nodded. It was completely true. If he honestly believed that this man was a lunatic, and that he hadn't died, he wouldn't be having this conversation. Lex scoffed to himself, and shook his head. "That makes that twice now then." Methos looked at him questioningly. "I drowned when I first arrived here; a local boy saved me when my car flew off a bridge. Technically I died and he revived me. So that makes it that I've died twice. I guess."

Nodding, the older immortal began dishing out food onto the plates he had found. He put them both down on the kitchen table, and sat down, gesturing for Lex to join him.
"It's only spicy chicken with salad; I didn't know what you liked, so I decided on something simple. Wine..?"

Lex shook his head, and picked up his fork, prodding it into the chicken on his plate; tentatively he took a bite out of the tenderly cooked flesh. Surprised that the taste was so explosive, he realised how hungry he was, and continued to eat. Methos took the small noises Lex was making as he delved into his food as a good sign, and started his own meal. So far, Lex was taking the whole dying issue well, and Methos wondered silently if it was a façade, or if Lex had just simply accepted it. They ate together in silence.

When the meals had been finished, and the plates pushed aside, Methos finally asked the question he had wanted to ask since arriving at the mansion.

"What happened to you? How did you die - again?"

Now wasn't that the question, Lex thought to himself. Chuckling out loud, Lex startled both himself and Methos, and told his tale.

Chapter Three

Two weeks ago: the crash

Lex woke on the beach, the sand grainy beneath his soaked and pained body. He opened his eyes slowly, finding it difficult to breathe, his gasps short and sharp. He looked down to his chest, and retched at what he saw there. His shirt was tattered and torn around him, ripped and bloodied by the shards of metal and glass that were stuck into his flesh. More noticeable though, was the bloodied sheet of metal that protruded from his stomach. He screamed in terror on the silent predawn beach, and moved his hands over himself, removing the smaller pieces of shrapnel first, surprised that the blood wasn't still freshly flowing. His mind reeled in shock as he reached around his body to his back, and felt metal there too, supposedly from the shard that was through his stomach. Breathing as deeply as he could, he braced one of his hands on the sand beneath him, digging his palm into it as deep as he could to get purchase, and then brought his free hand round to the piece of metal embedded in his stomach, and screamed again. As he screamed, he pulled.

The noise that he made startled him from the pain. It was an animalistic shriek, almost like the howl of a wolf caught in a trap. Tears flowed from his eyes, blurring his vision as the metal was wrenched free of his body, the pressure he exerted using the remainder of his energy. He tossed the metal sheet aside and collapsed onto his back, coughing and sputtering, trying to find the air to breathe, when suddenly he found it easier. His eyes opened in wonder as he watched blue and white lightning sparks dance across his torso, the ripped skin folding over itself, and repairing. Stunned, he pulled his hands up to his body, and ran them across his now smooth skin, gazing in wonder as the bloody cuts and scrapes disappeared, leaving behind nothing but blood and sand.

For the first time in his life, Lex didn't know what to do. His life had been turned upside down in a matter of - well, he didn't know how long it was - nevertheless, turned upside down it was, and all he felt was a wrenching pull of devastation and heartache. He was heartbroken, stranded somewhere after his wife had attempted to murder him, no doubt in cahoots with his father, Lex presumed, with a weird lightning-type thing mending his skin and stopping him from dying. His first thought regarding the latter was the meteors in Smallville. He'd not been sick since they hit and he lost his hair, perhaps, for once, he had been blessed, and they had given him the power to heal himself. After all, others had been affected by the meteors in such ways - but it seemed so farfetched an explanation, Lex didn't really know whether he could honestly believe it.

Then there was the question as to where he was. He looked around, scanning the area for any signs of life, finding none. He decided to try moving, needing to work out how to get back home…

Home... There was a word he didn't think he'd ever use for Smallville, but it was all he had left now. If his father was involved in whatever had happened, which Lex believed he was, he wouldn't be expecting his return to Smallville. He wouldn't be expecting him to return at all. Obviously the plan was for him to have either died from the impact of the crash, or drowned. Luckily, Lex thought, neither had happened. Taking a deep breath, expecting pain, he stood. When he didn't feel any, he sighed with relief. The heat was making him more uncomfortable than he already felt. He was covered in his own blood, and sand from the beach. He hated being dirty and impulsively attempted to clean himself off, brushing his legs with his hands roughly, trying to dislodge the crap on his trousers.

"Well, this is fucking marvellous!" he exclaimed to himself. "Way to go, Lex, marry a friggin' psycho." As he said the words, his stomach clenched, and his face reddened. Tears welled in his eyes and they fell freely. He began walking, heading away from the beach, though going nowhere in particular. The foliage was scratchy, and marred his skin as he waded through it, stopping on occasion to wipe his eyes, the tears seeming endless. After what seemed like hours of walking, his legs gave out on him, and he collapsed into darkness.

~ ~ ~

Jonathan Kent was pacing the length of the front room of the farmhouse. His face was furrowed with concern for his missing son. Lana sat on the sofa next to Martha, watching him intently.

"Mr. Kent..? Are you okay?" She sighed. "I mean, obviously you're not, but…" She looked at Martha pleadingly, who offered her a reassuring smile.

Martha was released from the hospital's care early due to overcrowding after the anomaly that had passed through the town. The Kents had arrived home to find Lana in hysterics on the steps of the porch, crying about Clark, rambling nonsense. When Jonathan had gotten Martha inside and rested on the sofa, he calmed Lana down. She told him how Clark had just left, told her that everything was his fault, even asked her to go with him. Jonathan had phoned Pete's house, hoping to find more answers from him, but he wasn't there. All they could do now was wait.

Lana stood, and moved to Jonathan, stopping him from pacing. "Clark's smart, Mr. Kent. Smarter than he knows. He'll do the right thing. He always does." Jonathan looked at her in wonder, the tone of her voice reflecting just how much she believed in his son. His son who he had turned away when he needed him most... The son who believed that he was the cause for Martha's miscarriage... He should have comforted Clark, let him be part of the family when he had the chance at the hospital, but he was angry and upset, and Clark just turned up at the wrong time. Jonathan felt guilty for taking out his own hurt on him, not even thinking about how Clark must've felt at the time. He was just a kid who thought he was doing the right thing.

Just then, the back door flew open, revealing Pete sporting a nasty cut on his head.

"I'm so sorry, I tried to stop him, tried to tell him. He just went mad; he…" Spotting Lana in the living room, he rethought his sentence. "He's not himself."

Jonathan ushered him over to the sofa, and Lana went to the kitchen and came back with the first aid kit. She cleaned his forehead, and listened while he told the Kents what had happened.

"He pushed me into the lockers," Pete said warily. "Sometimes, he doesn't know his own strength." Realisation dawned on Jonathan as he began to understand what Pete was trying to tell him. Clark had obviously used his powers against Pete. He sighed. Noting the confusion on Lana's face, he spoke to her.

"Lana… Perhaps you ought to get home; it's getting late, and I'm sure you're tired, and want to tell Chloe what's happened. She'll want to know." Lana moved to protest but something stopped her. Jonathan continued. "I promise; you'll be the first person we call if we hear anything."

She smiled at him and said her goodbyes. "He will come back," she said, seemingly trying to convince herself more than anyone else in the room. "He's a Kent; he knows where he belongs." Jonathan smiled at her, and watched her leave.

"What's going on, Pete?" he asked, hurt evident in his tone.

"He found Chloe's class ring..." Jonathan whipped round to face the young man. "I tried to stop him… I did, but he pushed me... next thing I know, I'm waking up in the dark in the school corridor. It's bad, Mr. Kent. Real bad. I've never seen him like it before. Even when he's pissed, he's never that bad." He paused, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. I'm so sorry."

"It's ok, Pete…" It was the first time Martha had said anything since she'd arrived back and listening to Lana's story. "He'll be okay." She looked at Jonathan. "Lana's right. He'll come home. He knows we love him."

She rested her hand on her stomach and began to cry. Jonathan moved over to her, embracing her in a hug. Neither of them heard Pete leave.

~ ~ ~

Lex woke to a light shining in his eyes. Reflexively, he raised his hands over his face to block out the glare from a flashlight pointed at him by a man in uniform.

"You stay where you are!" the man ordered, moving away from Lex, but still pointing the light at him. He got on the radio, and spoke. "Deputy Malloy reporting from Baldwin County, State Route 59. I have a Caucasian male, looks like he's just been through hell. I'm takin' him to the hospital, get him checked out. I'll stay with him there, and then bring him in." The deputy glared at Lex. "Just in case. I'm working on benefit of the doubt here, Sergeant."

"What's your name, son?"

"Lex Luthor. And don't call me son."

The deputy reached his hand out and offered it to Lex, who took it, and used it to help himself stand.

"Now don't you try anything, Mr. Luthor. It looks like you're hurtin' pretty bad, let me help you." The deputy guided Lex into his patrol car.

Lex nodded, and moved without hesitation. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the hospital, get you checked over. Then to the stationhouse, where you can tell us what the hell happened to you, you're a mess."

"Yeah." He paused. "I'll need to make a call."

The officer nodded, and shut the door, and got into the drivers driver's seat. He started the car with a sharp, "All in due time, Mr. Luthor," and headed to the hospital.

~ ~ ~

The phone rang shrilly, echoing through the Kent's living room, and waking Jonathan. Martha was curled up next to him, stirring slightly. He jumped up and ran to the phone. "Clark? Is that you, son?"

"Mr. Kent? What's happened to Clark? Is he still missing?"

"Lex?" Jonathan questioned.

"Yes, it's me. Why did you think I was Clark?"

Jonathan sighed. Lex was the last person he'd expected to be calling. He was supposed to be honeymooning in St. Thomas, not phoning the farm. Exasperated, Jonathan answered.

"It's nothing really, Lex, we just had a fight and he took off, y'know how kids get. Did you want to speak to him? How's the honeymoon going?"

Lex winced at the mention of the honeymoon, and shrugged it off. "No, I... I'm sorry, I--" he stuttered, "I need your help. I had no one else to call."

"What's happened, Lex? Where are you?"

"I'm in Bay Minette, Baldwin County, in Alabama… It's off state route 59 from Interstate 65 from Montgomery… There's been an accident, if you can call it that." Jonathan noticed the cautious tone of the young man's voice and decided against questioning him about the accident. Obviously, whatever had happened was important enough for Lex to call him, and regardless of Jonathan's feelings for Lionel Luthor, this was a friend of his son's, and someone whom he found himself wanting to believe in.

"Are you hurt? What do you need?"

"No, I'm okay, I'm just a little, well, and I'm a mess. I need for..." Lex gulped audibly. Asking for help was harder than he thought it would be. "I wondered if you could come and pick me up from here. I'm at the stationhouse. Please? I wouldn't ask but I have no one…" He broke off. "I'll settle up with the gas costs and the…"

"Lex, it's okay. Let me work something out. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Mr. Kent."

"Jonathan."

"Thank you, Jonathan."

Jonathan placed the receiver on the hook, and sighed. He went into the kitchen, and grabbed a batch of road maps from the drawer, scattering them over the table. Finding the Mapsco for the Southeast, he set to work planning his route to Lex.

Some time later, he woke Martha and relayed to her the details of his earlier conversation with the younger Luthor. She burst into tears almost immediately, an emotional wreck.

"I won't go, Martha, I'll call Lex back right now, and stay with you. You need me here."

"Jonathan Kent you will do no such thing!" she yelled at him through her tears. "I've already lost two children today. I don't intend to lose another!"

Jonathan looked shocked. He knew that Martha had a maternal instinct towards Lex, but he had no idea that she cared for him so deeply. As if reading his mind, she continued.

"I know he's not our child, but Clark believes in him… I believe in him, and I know you want to. He's a good man, Jonathan; he just needs someone to show him the way to stay like it. You have to help him." She sighed, "Think about it. Why on earth would Lex call us, when his own father has enough money to just fly there and pick him up? Something's wrong and you know it, or you wouldn't have gone to the trouble of getting directions. Lex needs you."

Jonathan nodded. "But you need me too, everything that's happened, I mean, how can we even start to…" Martha shushed him by placing her fingers to his lips, and shaking her head. A tear fell from Jonathan's face, his bravado and strength for his wife's sake giving out for just a moment before he composed himself again.

"Okay, I'll go. You're right, he does need me, but I want you safe. You want to be here if Clark calls, but I don't want you alone. I'm going to call Lana and ask her to stay over until I get back. She's young, but she cares, and that's good enough for me. Perhaps you can show her some embarrassing pictures of Clark, exchange stories, so that when he comes back, she can…" he trailed off. "Well, whatever, but I'm calling."

Knowing better than to argue, when it was obvious that Jonathan had made his mind up, Martha nodded. The trip to Baldwin County was at least 17 hours, possibly more, especially seeing as Jonathan would be using the old truck. Besides, Martha thought, it would be good to have company, something to make her forget, at least for a little while.

Lana agreed to stay while Jonathan was out of town, and turned up less than half an hour after his phone call to her. After a quick change of clothes, a kiss goodbye from his wife, and a thank you to the teenager, Jonathan grabbed his jacket and took his keys from the kitchen table.

As he started the truck and headed for the nearest gas station to fill up before his journey, his thoughts turned to Lex, and what could have happened that was so bad he needed to ask for help. Help from a Kent at that...

Chapter Four

Methos shook his head in disbelief as he listened intently to the young Luthor talk about what had happened. He was astounded that a father could orchestrate such a plot, and use a woman to make Lex vulnerable to his scheming. Looking back into his own past, Methos knew that he used manipulation and vulnerability to acquire the lifestyle he had set for himself. He used to believe that his ruthlessness was what had made him - the reason that he had survived for so long. Lex's belief that his father had arranged everything regarding Helen and the eventual plane crash, in order to acquire the Smallville plant for himself, was, in Methos' opinion, taking things too far. Of course, he'd killed for less in his own past, but that was due to his survival instincts, and yes he felt guilty, but not enough for it to ruin his inevitably long life. It wasn't about survival for the senior Luthor. It was about power. It seemed that it was all he was interested in, if what Lex had theorised so far was true. Which Methos thought it was.

There was a hopeless sincerity and an obvious dislike when Lex talked of his father, explaining his various plots and plans to ruin Lex's career. From placing highly technologically advanced bugs in his home, to feigning blindness, it seemed that there was no line that Lionel would not cross.

The two moved from the kitchen back into the comfort of the office. Lex poured two glasses of bourbon, and handed one to Methos' as he sat down.

"But that's my father. Perhaps now you understand my… concern regarding your visit. There's no level he won't lower himself to. I haven't left the mansion since Mr. Kent brought me here two weeks ago." Methos frowned at him. "Not through fear, of course; purely because I want him to believe he has won." Lex fell silent for a moment, thinking of Helen, trying to force his painful emotions down under the surface. "I want to know why they did it. No, that's not true. I want to know why Helen did it. I was willing to change everything I was for her; I did change everything I was for her. I just…" he trailed off.

Methos nodded in understanding, and noted tears shining in Lex's eyes. The young man looked so heartbroken; he realised why Duncan always involved himself in the personal lives of his students, and helped them find peace. It wasn't something that the older Immortal would usually do, but he felt an overwhelming urge to help Lex, not only by training him in the ways of Immortal life, but also by guiding him forward to the future, and not letting him get caught in his past. All too often, Methos had caused himself unnecessary heartache and distress by concentrating on what he had done, so much so that he occasionally felt no reason to live. He wanted to help Lex avoid the situations he had been in, save him from going through more pain than he was already suffering.

Two weeks previously

Bay Minette, Baldwin County, Alabama.

Jonathan Kent arrived at the stationhouse early evening, nearly 24 hours since his call from Lex. The farmer pulled his car over to a space, turned off the engine of the rickety old truck, and sighed, his head dropping to his arms, crossed on the steering wheel. At a few points in his journey to Alabama, he'd thought the old truck would give out on him, and he'd wind up stuck in the middle of nowhere, trying to find his own way home. Thankfully, it had survived the long haul, and he hoped would make it back home. His worries for Martha, and Clark, had done nothing but grow since he'd left his wife at the farmhouse with Lana. He'd called, of course, both women desperately trying to convince him that everything was fine, and that there was nothing to worry about. Clark still hadn't called, or returned home, and that thought played on Jonathan's mind more than anything else. He prayed that Clark wouldn't get into trouble, and that he still had some sense left, some of the real Clark left in him, that could keep himself under control, and not do anything stupid. Those red rocks were a curse to Clark and everyone around him when they affected the teenager. Jonathan sighed again. Images of Clark's possible escapades were running away with his mind. He shook himself out of his reverie, and exited the truck. He entered the stationhouse, walked to the desk, and addressed the officer behind it.

"I'm here for Lex Luthor."

The officer, apparently busy, ignored him.

Annoyed at the lack of response from the officer, Jonathan tried again. "Will you please tell where the hell Lex Luthor is?"

The desk sergeant looked up then, and looked more than a little ticked off. He put his paperwork down, and looked at Jonathan, before glancing over to another officer, who walked to where Jonathan was.

"Go and get Mr. Luthor for me, please, Joe. Tell him his lift home is here." He turned to Jonathan then, his eyes still cautious. "Mr. Luthor will be out in a minute, sir. I'm sure he'll explain everything to you. Now, why don't you calm down, and wait over there?" With that he pointed to a set of chairs placed against the wall, and returned to his paperwork.

Jonathan sat and waited for no more than a minute or two before he spotted Lex at the end of the corridor. His clothes were filthy and bloody, and he looked like he hadn't slept or eaten for a week. It was obvious that Lex had been through an ordeal, and for the moment, Jonathan wondered if he should ask what happened. He looked at the boy in front of him again, noting that he did indeed look like a boy, and not the man he was used to dealing with. This was not the charismatic, powerful man he had seen deal with situations that were seemingly out of control. This was a scared boy who had needed help, and didn't know who else to go to, so of course, he had called the only man who had no reason to help him. At that moment, Lex looked up, catching Jonathan's assessing look, and did something unexpected. He smiled. That was all the encouragement Jonathan had needed. He walked to Lex and stretched out his arm, wrapping it round his shoulder protectively.

"Mr. Kent." Lex sounded relieved. "Thank you for coming."

Jonathan shook his head. "It's not a problem. Now, let's get you out of here."

"I just have to sign these statements, and I'll be right with you."

Jonathan waited while Lex signed his releases, and thanked the officers. As Lex walked up to him, he smiled, opened the door and followed him onto the street.

Waiting until they were far enough away from the station, Jonathan turned Lex to face him. "Are you okay, Lex? You're not hurt are you?" Jonathan lowered his head to his hands and sighed. "What the hell happened to you..? No actually, don't answer that." Lex lifted his hand in protestation, but Jonathan shook his head. "Give me a minute, I need to say this." Lex nodded, and Jonathan continued, looking at Lex head on. "I know I've said this before, but I'm gonna say it anyway. I don't like your father, not one little bit, and I didn't like you… not at first. Now I'm getting to the stage where I'm used to having you in my life. Martha dotes on you, and I don't want anything to change that." Lex frowned. "My point is, that, well, I've become quite fond of you myself, and I just wanted you to know, that if you want to… if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. You don't have to tell me anything now, or ever; and I'd understand if you didn't… but the offer's there. If you want it." He reached out his hand and as Lex took it, Jonathan took the opportunity to pull the young man into a leisurely hug. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you're safe." He released Lex, watching the emotions play over his face, and decided to give the young man some time to absorb what he'd said. Spotting a diner across the street, Jonathan tilted his head. "Hungry?"

Lex looked down at himself.

Sensing his discomfort, the older Kent smiled, and slapped his hand across Lex's back. "C'mon, you can pay me back later..."

~ ~ ~

Again the older Immortal listened as Lex spoke of his return to Smallville. He seemed to talk of the Kents wistfully, admitting that it was them who were taking care of him, until he decided what to do about the current situation he was presented with. As far as Lex knew, Lionel had no idea that his plan hadn't worked. There was a search party sent out to look for any survivors of the crash, when it had been discovered that the newlyweds hadn't arrived at their destination, and a few days had passed by. Lex's admiration for the Kents seemed to only grow as he recounted his conversation about what had happened with Mr. Kent; he'd told Jonathan the basics of what had happened, leaving out the part about being inexplicably healed when he should be dead, and just putting it down to luck, which Jonathan agreed with.

On arriving back at the Kents' farm, as Lex had insisted on seeing Martha after hearing about the loss of her baby, and Clark going missing, Jonathan had been the one to tell his wife what had happened, while Lex had sat on the sofa opposite her. Martha's immediate reaction shocked both men.

~ ~ ~

"That bastard..!" Martha yelled across the room to no one in particular. "How could he even think about doing that to his own son?" Seemingly forgetting the presence of Lex, she ranted on. She looked at Jonathan, and went to him. "What he's done to us, and having that information about Clark was despicable, but this is… well there aren't any words for this." She moved across to where Lex sat, and knelt in front of him. She placed her hand on his chin, and raised his face to her own, seeing tears in his eyes. "Oh, Lex..! I'm so sorry…"

She trailed off and pulled him towards her, and he went willingly into the embrace. It was the first time anyone other than Pamela had seen him cry, and embraced him like a mother. His emotional barriers collapsed around him, and his silent tears became anguished sobs. His mantra of "it hurts so much" echoed through the Kents' home, and for the first time, after years of being told how wrong it was to show weakness, he let go. He clung to Martha like a lifeline, grasping at her for all he was worth. She stroked his scalp, and shushed him, whispering reassurances to him as she rocked him like a baby in her arms, and as he drifted off to sleep, her tears took the place of his.

~ ~ ~

Methos watched Lex as he paced the office, replaying the events of his return, and silently noted the tears running down Lex's cheeks before they intensified and he began sobbing audibly. Mentally cursing emotion, Methos stood, and moved over to the young man, gently, yet cautiously placing a strong hand on his shoulder. Lex leaned into the touch; and Methos drew him closer into a hug. He stood there in silence as Lex's tears slowed and finally stopped.

When Lex looked up at him, his eyes were red and swollen.

"So much for me being in control!" he said hysterically. "You must think I'm seriously fucked up after hearing all this." He gave a distressed laugh at the sound of his words, and drew back from his visitor's touch, realising that he was still encased in strong arms. It seemed that being emotional was becoming a habit. He lowered his head, and tried desperately to return to the hard-faced Luthor he had been when Mr. Pierson had arrived, but failed miserably. Sighing, he gave up, and sank back down into the leather chair. His voice was quiet and wary as he asked his next question.

"What happens now?"

Chapter Five

//Los Angeles - 1999

"What happens now?" Methos asked the young slim brunette, as she donned her clothes, and set about cleaning herself up before she left the hotel room.

"Guess it's best to tell the truth, huh?" She responded. "Ain't that always the way. Open your legs and think you can get anyone to do anything?"

Methos frowned, uncertain as to what the brunette was referring to. He watched as she sidled up to him, seemingly leaning forward to give him a full kiss on the mouth. A sly smile played on the corners of her lips, and without warning, she slammed her hand around his throat. He could feel the power in her grasp, and see her intent as she looked into his eyes.

"I'm on my way to see an old friend. Guessed I deserved a last pleasure before I wind up bein' a good guy." She drawled, sarcasm dripping vilely from her words. Using her force, she pushed further into him, then, using the hand still wrapped around his throat, threw him into the wall across the room.

Shocked, Methos stayed down. The young woman was extremely strong; he could feel the force of years of training in her push. She was also dangerous.

"Who are you?" He asked, huskily, his throat raw as he rubbed at it.

"That's not important, what is important is how I feel."

"Then I'll rephrase… how are you?"

"I'm five by five, lover; five by five."//

Countless nameless faces haunted Methos. They lived in his past. For a moment, he thought it funny how a simple question could force him back into previous times, but then he supposed that was the way it worked. Memories could be easily triggered if you knew how, or if you'd let your defence down enough to allow them to manipulate their way into your mind. Sighing he returned to the conversation at hand, his thoughts lingering only slightly on the beautiful young woman who'd nearly strangled him to death, before disappearing. Yes, she had been dangerous, but he'd not thought until that moment that Lex may be. Impulsively, Methos put his hand to his throat, and coughed.

Out of all of the questions Lex could have asked, that was the one Methos expected least.

What now?

"Now?" Lex nodded. "Now you take it one day at a time, and learn about who you are."

"I know who I am."

"No. That's the point, Lex. You don't. You have no idea. I still have no idea who I am, and I've been around for longer than you can imagine, and no doubt longer than you would believe." Lex shot him a questioning look, and Methos ignored it, and moved to sit on the chair opposite him. "I don't know what the reason for my existence is, you're twenty one, and just think you know it all. God, you remind me so much of myself it's scary."

Methos rose and poured himself a drink before sitting again, he looked at the young man before him, who was obviously deeply confused and intrigued about the situation he was in, and sighed. Shaking his head he met Lex's eyes as he spoke.

"It's not just a matter of the fact that you died Lex. It's that you are Immortal. You'll live until your carelessness gets the better of you and you lose your head."

"Immortal?" Lex asked incredulously… "So I can't die?"

"No, well, yes, well, it's complicated." Methos gulped down his drink and raised his hands to halt any interruption. "You are an Immortal, is really what I should have said. You can die, just not permanently, unless you have your head cut off."

Lex audibly gasped and Methos shook his head again.

"I'm really no good at this. I've never really explained the "ins and outs" of the game to anyone, so you'll have to bear with me I'm afraid. We are Immortals. The background of those who have immortal life is unknown. Immortals have no parents, cannot be parents, and constantly fight in 'the game' for 'the prize'. When the fight of the Immortals is over, the prize will be given to the last Immortal. No one knows what the prize is; it could be anything from finding peace in death, to being restored to mortality."

"We can die, just like mortals do, the only difference being that we don't die permanently, unless we are killed as part of the game. Other Immortals who desire the prize will find you, and try to take your head. It is the only way we can die. Your energy… essence if you like, is passed onto the Immortal who takes your head. Eventually, there will be only one of us. There can be only one."

"When we are reborn, into Immortal life, it is through violent means. Most Immortals are discovered by Watchers and we are known to them only because of legend. It's very rare that you will see them, or meet any of them, but they are there, watching what you do, how you live, how you die… who you fight. Countless times I have made a life for myself and had to reassert myself into the world by some means. Now I am Adam Pierson, assigned as one of the Watchers…. like I said, sometimes, I don't even know who I am anymore. I came looking for you at first because it was the Council's wish that I do so, that I become your watcher, but I want to help you Lex, I really do. I can teach you... I can help you, but you have to let me."

Lex visibly paled as Methos continued, describing the rules of the game, and holy ground, the difference between immortals, how some just strived to survive for as long as possible, and some deliberately sought out younger, less wise immortals, and occasionally more powerful, older immortals, to obtain their power, and ultimately become "the one" to win the prize.

His thought returned to a previous statement, and he voiced his question "You said we have no parents… That we don't know how we came to be?"

"Yes. We just are."

"So Lionel isn't my father, and Lillian…" he trailed off, his head bowed low as he raised his hands to cover his face.

"Isn't your mother?" Methos finished for him. "No, they're not your parents, not biologically at least. But to all intents and purposes…"

His mind reeled as he realised that Lionel wasn't his true father, and that his beloved Lillian was not his mother. He had no background. He had nothing. Lex lost himself in his thoughts, and they trailed to wondering how the older man had coped with existence, how every new death brought a new person into being, a new name, a new home; more isolation. It saddened Lex to think that his own fear of being alone was going to become a reality. He was an Immortal; and information about the game and the prize was limited, but still needed to be kept secret. There was far too much at stake to even risk researching the subject, let alone sharing it with anyone, even if they were trustworthy. Still, he wondered how he could possibly not tell anyone what he was going through, how he would cope alone, as Methos had; avoiding the game, but retaining his strength of self. How it could not break a man to be alone for so long. How it could not affect such a long life of loss and pain… Plain and simple, the answer came to him. It couldn't.

~ ~ ~

Methos watched as Lex battled with his emotions. It was hard, telling him only most of what was known about Immortal life, without being able to share his own experiences with Lex. Methos inwardly cringed at the fact he found himself wanting to talk to this boy of his past, but to do so, would put himself, and his new student into too much danger. If the Watchers ever found out who he was, there would undoubtedly be trouble.

Added to that, almost as a connecting afterthought, was the trust issue. He'd never trusted Lionel Luthor, not through all his years of seeing the name mentioned in the press; his constant scheming, as Lex had put it. Regardless of Lex's immortality, he was still a Luthor, and capable of whatever he set his mind to. Lex could be dangerous if he had too much personal information, and Methos had always made a point of protecting his true identity. He wasn't going to be less cautious just because the man had cried on his shoulder, and he'd seen himself in times long gone, buried beneath the glistening light of bright blue eyes.

Chapter Six: Interlude

Two months earlier.
Luthorcorp, Metropolis.

"Ms. Bryce, so nice of you to join us…"

The brunette's heels clicked sharply against the polished floor of the Luthor office, bringing attention to her arrival. She was late for her appointment, due to an emergency at the hospital in Smallville.

"Lionel, sorry I'm late. I hate that pathetic little town; it would be so much easier if these illnesses the population kept contracting didn't have miraculous cures." She glared at the older man, and shrugged her jacket off, tossing it onto one of the leather covered chairs. Slipping her shoes off lightly, so as not to annoy her boss, and lover, she walked towards the dark marbled cabinet, and poured herself a drink. As the vicious liquid warmed her throat and chest, she rolled her shoulders back, and rubbed her neck with her free hand. "So, you've made the final adjustments to our plan?" she asked, sidling up against the senior Luthor.

Lionel smiled at her boldness. It was what had attracted him to her when he had begun recruitment for his newest 'project'. Helen had so much potential, as a doctor, as a lover, and as a betrayer. She held herself well, and projected a persona similar to that of a Luthor. He knew that would initiate attraction for Lex; the rest would fall into place naturally. And he'd judged the situation perfectly. Lex had fallen for his temptress, and now all that was left to do was to have Helen withdraw from the relationship, and wait for Lex to come crawling back to her, begging for her to take him back. Begging for her to help him be better than his father… And Lionel knew that would happen. Love was Lex's weakness. It always had been. If nothing else, Lionel could exploit weakness and use it for his own benefit. It was just a matter of finalising details.

"Of course I have, or I wouldn't have called you to me. You know that, Helen." He raised his hand and brushed it lightly across her cheek before bringing it back down to his side, and turning his attention across the room.

"This is James, that's all you need to know. He'll be the pilot on your trip."

The young man rose from his seat, and picked up a large board from the floor. He raised it to reveal a map, and both Lionel and Helen sat as he relayed the journey that would be taken to the honeymoon at St. Thomas.

"We will jettison, here," he pointed to a section just off the coastline of Alabama. "From here, a boat will collect us, and take us to safety, where you will be met by Mr. Luthor personally."

Helen looked at Lionel, and nodded her approval. He smiled slightly at her, and dismissed James from the office. He left without a word.

Present Day

Methos arrived at his Metropolis apartment early morning. He'd left a fairly riled Lex Luthor in his home, considering all of his options. Of all of his dealings through his lifetime, none had been as intense as his visit to the young immortal. He had taken the role of teacher and watcher, counsel and tormentor. Without him, Lex would survive, though for how long, Methos was unsure. The young man was strong willed, and held a large amount of hate inside him. Hate strong enough for him to wreak havoc as an Immortal, unless it was tamed. If it was tamed, Lex could be trained to use it when necessary, to fuel his strength, and survive in the inevitable fights of the game. If it wasn't and Lex used it for other means, and allowed it to consume him, the effects could be disastrous, for both immortals and humans. His desire for power was where the danger lay. If Lex achieved true power, he wouldn't allow anything to stand in his way. Methos shuddered at the thought as he closed his journal and retired to bed, wondering what his dreams would hold for him.

As he drifted in and out of sleep, back in Smallville his student showered and dressed, grabbed his keys to his Porsche from the table in the hallway, and left his mansion… decision made. It was time for him to confront Lionel…

To Be Continued...

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