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seriousficTitle: The Villain Of The Story
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,855
Author’s Note: Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vagrantdream.
Characters/Pairings: Chloe/Davis, Lex, Clark, Earl Jenkins,
Last Part: Chapter 6
Next Part: Chapter 8
Summary: Davis suspected that anyone could be corrupted, but he never thought an old friend like Earl Jenkins could go bad. He never thought he could put Chloe in danger.
“So you hear about Eric Summers?”
“No, what?”
“Got busted spying on Holly with a telescope. His parents are cracking down hard.”
“Sucks to be him.”
Davis paused, rolling the basketball in his hands. He felt the pebbled texture for another moment, then shot. The basketball soared over Pete’s head and dropped through the hoop. Pete sighed as he went to retrieve it.
“As much fun as it is watching you enjoy your growth spurt, you know your parents are gone, right? We could be having a party.”
Davis fought the melancholy’s return, but it won, as it always seemed to. “Not much in the mood for a party.”
“If it’s a party, Lana’ll be there. She’s easy as pie.” Pete tossed him the basketball. “I hear she’s lost her virginity to half the football team. And blown the other half.”
“How long have you known me?”
“What makes you think I was talking about you? I’ve got needs too, ya know. But hey, I’m sure we can arrange for Chloe to meet you there, super-virgin.”
“Maybe I’m not in the mood for that either.”
“Did you die while I wasn’t looking? This is the same Chloe we’re talking about, right?”
Davis tossed him back the basketball. “Three points. Go for it.”
Pete looked over Davis’s shoulder. “Hey, Davis?”
Davis turned around. A man in a sweat-soaked janitor’s jumpsuit pushed his way out of the cornfield, stumbling, stirring up pockets of dust every third step. He blurred like a mirage.
“Earl?” Davis called.
Earl fell to his knees, biting down hard on his lower jaw as a sandstorm sprang up around him and died back down. “Davey… help me.”
***
They took Earl to the pick-up, holding him down when he had a seizure, and finally they lifted him into the truck bed. Pete rode in the back with him, signaling Davis to stop when Earl had one of his seizures. Whatever caused them, they were powerful enough to make the truck swerve all over the road if it was in motion.
Finally, they got to the hospital. By then, Earl seemed to have it under control. He kept asking for Davis’s father. A nurse on her cigarette break saw them, and then there were orderlies and a stretcher and Pete was filling out forms while Davis called his parents.
They arrived two hours later. Davis walked through the glass as his father talked to Earl. He’d been a farmhand several summers back, taking Davis to ballparks and movies while Jonathan was busy trying to perform a miracle with the lean farming season. They’d pulled through, like they always did, and Earl had gone off to work for
“Luthorcorp,” Jonathan spat. “He was working at their fertilizer plant when there was an explosion. Ever since then, he’d been having those… jitters.”
“Any idea what caused them?” Davis asked, carrying the coffee they were bringing back to Earl’s room.
“He says that the explosion was on Level 3, where Luthorcorp was experimenting with meteor rocks.”
“Meteor rocks?” Davis remembered the weird allergic reaction he’d had to them in Arkin’s mill, the black-out. “Dad, when Earl has one of his attacks, it’s like an earthquake. Could meteor rocks really do that?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. I called the plant. They have no record of an explosion. Neither does OSHA or the newspapers. They won’t even say there’s a Level 3.”
Davis took this in. “My class is going on a fieldtrip to the Luthorcorp plant in a few days. Maybe I could…”
“Davis, no. The Luthors have a lot of money, and you can bet they didn’t get it by playing nice. People get that rich, they think the laws don’t apply to them. If they did have something to do with what happened to Earl, what do you think they’d do to you?”
“I can handle myself.”
“Since when? You’re sixteen years old.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Davis held the tray out to Jonathan. “Can you take this? I need to make a phone call.”
***
Every time they were on a bus, Davis and Chloe would ride pressed into the same bench, Chloe at the window, Davis with a foot up against the back of the seat in front of him, squeezed together by the road. Chloe’s thigh against Davis’s, his arm against the side of her breast. It was an awkward, secret piece of intimacy, broken only by Pete occasionally leaning over the seat in front of them to chat.
Over the last few weeks Davis had been pulling in on himself, like he was allergic to her and a touch could make him break into hives. He’d even sat across the aisle from her sometimes. But on the class field trip to Luthorcorp Fertilizer Plant 3, he took her hand and started talking like a dam had been built between them and just busted.
She agreed to it. Grudgingly.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Chloe said as they got off the bus in front of the plant, where Chloe’s father worked.
“It’s not that bad,” Davis said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You do get to keep your firstborn son.”
“Can we rethink that deal? I’m bad with kids anyway.”
“Sorry, the ink’s dry. Just pull the dear daughter crap on daddy dearest, we find Level 3, Luthorcorp pays the bill for Earl’s cure, you get the story. And we get to snoop around, you love snooping around.”
“I do. Though if you wanted to get me alone in a dark corner, all you had to do was ask.”
Davis blushed and removed his arm. Even Chloe couldn’t seem to believe she’d said it, but went on.
“Maybe play some Barry Manilow…”
They walked through Luthorcorp’s front door and spent the next half hour listening to Gabe Sullivan’s lame jokes and, in Chloe’s case, praying for the sweet release of death. Then her prayers were answered.
“Could everyone please get down on the ground?” Earl mumbled. He lifted a gun, yelled “Now!”
***
Clark was so concerned he almost sped right into the staging area, but at the last second he looped around and slowed down in an alley. A minute later, he had pushed past the reporters and badgering parents to find his father.
Lionel Luthor was in the middle of a swarm of men, like different herds all drinking from the same watering hole. There were men in business suits, men in paramilitary uniforms, policemen, plant workers, and a chosen few reporters hanging on his every word.
“Dad!” Clark rushed to him. “I came as soon as I heard. Is it true Lex went in?”
“Give us a moment, please,” Lionel said to the throng. It was not a request. Bodyguards sprung into action, giving Lionel and his son some breathing room.
“Is it true?” Clark insisted.
“Son, your brother chose to take a risk. I thought it reckless, but Lex is well past the point of caring what I think.”
“Then let me go in there, I can take Jenkins down in two seconds!”
“Brave words, Clark, but we’re surrounded by the press. Imagine if your secret came out. People would fear you, try to exploit you. And then all the protection I’ve given you would be for nothing.”
“Of course, father. You’re right. As always.” And Clark looked through the plant’s walls, searching for his brother.
***
Davis couldn’t believe it. Earl Jenkins, his old friend, his father’s right-hand man, was holding him and his whole class hostage. It seemed the perfect cap to his new life. Everything else was going to hell, why not Earl? The Red tempted him to stand up, step through the bullets, and put a stop to Earl’s jitters for good. But Chloe was here, and he couldn’t bear for her to look at him like he looked at himself in the mirror.
While Earl raved at the security camera, stuttering with jitters, Davis crept over to Chloe. “You alright?”
“Don’t worry, I’m kinda getting used to insane mutant danger. This is going to make a heck of a story.”
He clapped her shoulder. “Good, you have your priorities in order.”
“Davis, can I ask you a personal question?”
Davis bit his lip. This was it. Life-threatening situations made people think this way. He certainly thought of Chloe every time he killed. She was going to ask if he loved her. And what could he possibly tell her?
“On the night Harry Volk died, you said you were going to protect Jim Gage. You were there.”
“I told you, Chloe, it was a commando, like the ones chasing Arkin.”
“They had guns. Not knives.”
Davis felt it like a punch in the gut. She knew. It was over. Any relief he might’ve felt was swallowed up by the knowledge that he’d lost her.
“Davis, I’m not accusing you of anything. I don’t know what you’re going through or where you are right now. But you’re my friend. And nothing can change the way I feel about you.”
He numbly felt his hand moving to her, pressing slowly against her cheek. She was real. That surprised him somewhat. Her eyes closed and she twisted a little under his touch, letting his hand roam down her face, her graceful neck, then over the delicate curve of her collarbone to feel her heart beat. Even. Sure. Safe.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he promised. “I won’t let it.”
“Of course not. You’re my guardian angel.”
He buried his face in her hair. “Do you have any idea how special you are?”
She put her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “When I’m with you, yeah.”
Davis stood, letting her arms slowly lapse from touching him. He turned. “It’s over, Earl. Let’s end this before anyone gets hurt.”
The gun pointed at Davis. “Sit down, Davey. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t. And you’re not going to.” He put a foot forward. Another. “Put the gun down.”
Earl quaked as another jitter hit him. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I know. I just don’t have a choice.” He took another step. The gun was against his chest. “You do. Put the gun down.”
Earl screamed as another jitter hit him. His free hand shook out, knocking Davis across the room. The hostages screamed. Earl slammed his hands into the wall, feeding his vibrations into it. The room shook. Pipes ruptured, spewed smoke. Cracks split the floor, spreading toward the hostages.
Teeth gritted, Earl forced it down, leaving only the grit tumbling from the ceiling and the sound of slow applause.
“Very impressive, Mr. Jenkins,” Lex Luthor said as he walked into the middle of the hostage situation. “Now if you’re done holding up the class, how would you like to see Level 3?”
***
As soon as the double doors closed behind Earl, Davis moved like a bullet, its gunpowder ignited. He’d worried loose a pipe from the wall and slipped it into his sleeve; now he jammed it through the handles, barring the door so Earl couldn’t double back. “Alright, everybody out! Exit’s that way, don’t stop until you see cops. Go!”
The hostages surged like one organism, stampeding down the hallway and streaming out the door. Davis looked around for stragglers, saw only one. Chloe. She was huddled on the floor.
Davis jogged to her side. “C’mon, Chloe, class dismissed.”
She didn’t move. A thought struck Davis, and he dropped next to her like the notion had drawn blood. Normally he was good at telling when someone was not breathing, but fear blurred his eyes and there was debris near her head, stained the same red as her sodden hair. He felt for her pulse, pressing her fingers into her flesh like he could push his hope into her and force her heart to beat.
It was him. He’d confronted Earl, he’d brought this on her…
He felt a pulse. Davis leaned down and kissed Chloe in brief gratitude. Scooped her up and carried her out the door. His heart still beat like a volcano erupting, both in fear for Chloe and in outrage for her. How dare Earl do this! There was no excuse. Davis’s sympathy for him was dwindling quick, and it was only the weight of Chloe in his arms that pulled him back from the threshold. If it had been anything other than Chloe nearest to him, he would’ve torn it apart and not stopped there… He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.
He emerged into sunlight, blinding. A street festival of joyous reunions thrummed in front of him. He corralled Whitney away from a tonsil-cleaning by Lana. “Take her, don’t set her down until you find an ambulance. I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.”
The way Whitney took hold of Chloe, like she was a sleeping baby, and the way he promised he would take care of her, made Davis look at him in a kinder light.
“Davis, your eyes,” Whitney said, jaw slack.
Davis looked at his reflection in a puddle. His eyes were a demonic red, like a fire within him was raging out of control. If that was the case, thinking of Chloe’s blood was gasoline. Some of it was on his sleeve…
She stirred, called his name weakly. He couldn’t let her see him like this, he couldn’t be near her like this. If he hurt her… But he already had hurt her. Him and Earl.
His parents saw him, called to him. He turned and walked back into the plant.
“Son, where are you going!?”
“Earl’s still in there.”
***
“This isn’t possible,” Lex said as the elevator jerked into motion. Jenkins had just hit a concealed button for the 3rd floor. A floor that shouldn’t have existed.
“That’s what I’ve been saying for the last two years.” Jenkins dug the gun barrel deeper into Lex’s skin. Lex didn’t think he was going to use it, but all it would take was one spasm at the wrong time…
The elevator shook. Lex winced before he realized it was coming to a stop. The doors opened. A catwalk bridged a vast open space.
Lex shook his head. “Clark would’ve told me about this.”
Earl prodded him with the gun. “Move.”
Lex walked out onto the catwalk, his steps echoing mechanically. Clark couldn’t have known. Could he? Of course, it would be just like Lionel to only trust his golden boy, the boy he handpicked instead of the one he was saddled with like some genetic disorder.
Lex turned to face Earl. “We’ve both been lied to. It’s obvious we’re in the same boat…”
“Boat? Buh-buh-boat? Lionel Luthor took everything from me! Now I’m going to take something from him.”
Lex had time to think something vaguely blasphemous of Someone’s idea of irony. Earl pointed the gun at Lex’s head. Then another jitter twisted him into a ball and back again repeatedly, like a toy being broken. The gun flew out of his hand. Lex watched the painful contortions, fascinated. A real-life Kryp. Intriguing.
Earl latched onto the handrails to stay up, causing the entire catwalk to quake. Lex lost his footing. On all fours, he scrambled for the other side. Behind him, the metal shrieked, almost overwhelming the disc-scratching noise of Earl’s jitters. Then, Lex was weightless, the ground stolen out from under him. The catwalk had broken. He snatched a guardrail as he fell, slipped off it, dropped, grabbed Earl’s legs.
They floated there, hanging off the broken catwalk, and Lex thought with odd calm so this is what it feels like to die. This is what Mom felt. Earl was blubbering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and the catwalk kept tilting down like a clock-hand. Lex closed his eyes, felt himself being pulled upward. Heaven was probably too much to hope for, so he opened his eyes.
One of the hostages was pulling Earl up, and Lex along with him. As soon as Earl had his arms wrapped around the guard-rail, the farmboy offered Lex a hand. Lex took it, and there was no mistaking how little effort it took him. It was like Lex weighed the same as a sheet of paper.
Then he set Lex down and ignored him, staring at Earl. Lex didn’t see his eyes, but from the way Earl reacted, that was probably a good thing. Earl curled into a ball, not going anywhere, and the farmboy took several deep breaths, his shoulders unknotting, his hands relaxing into a splayed rigor mortis, only a little less tense than fists. He said something like “she’s alive” before turning to Lex.
“You okay?” the kid asked.
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” A Kryp? He didn’t seem dangerous… anymore. “Lex Luthor.”
“I know who you are,” he said, too rapidly to be polite. “I’m Davis Kent,” he added apologetically, offering his hand.
Lex shook it. “Nice to meet you. Especially just now.”
“Yeah.” Davis looked at the drop. “Crazy the things you can do when your adrenaline’s pumping.”
The rest, Lex could’ve predicted in his sleep. Davis faded into the background with his parents. Clark gave Lex a brief hug and Lionel clapped him on the shoulder with a private squeeze to remind him who he belonged to. But as he fielded questions, Lex found his eyes drifting between two extremes. Earl Jenkins being led into a paddywagon, to be run through the system for a few weeks before ending up in 33.1; and Davis Kent reunited with his family, a short blonde girl hanging off his neck. Rejoicing in being alive.
The first chance he got, Lex dialed Roger Nixon. “Hi Rog. I’ve got a new assignment for you. Davis Kent.”
***
Trailing the ambulance that held Earl was easy. Davis just turned his headlights off and let the Red show him everything. When the ambulance stopped at a gas station, he made his move. He parked a mile behind and ran while the driver used the restroom.
Davis forced the lock and climbed into the cab. Earl looked up at Davis from where he was strapped down, seeing a silhouette blackened by the setting sun. “Davey, thank God! Get me out of here, they’re taking me back to Luthorcorp, they’re going to do tah-tah-tests on me…! Davey?”
“That’s not my name anymore.” He walked around Earl to the head of the gurney, where a strap held Earl’s neck. He grabbed it.
It wasn’t his fault. He’d given Earl every chance to change his course. But the beast inside Earl was too strong. It had to be stopped before it hurt anyone else.
“I’m sorry.” He pulled on the strap, drawing it taut around Earl’s throat. “It’s better this way.”
Earl just gurgled, looking up at Davis with muddled eyes. Like he couldn’t understand what was happening to him.
Davis gave the strap one last pull. “You’re free now.”
Someone had left the ambulance’s radio on.
Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
Davis held it together. He’d gotten good at that. The storm of fear and recrimination raging inside him, what was it compared to the Red? And he could control that, couldn’t he?
He got home, staggered inside, stripped off his outerwear as he went up the stairs. Fell into bed facefirst and thought about how loud he could scream if he let himself.
A thought struck him. He got up and ripped through his CDs until he found the mix Chloe had burned him. He shoved it into his radio and pressed play.
W.C. Handy -- won't you look down over me?
Yeah I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a boy can be
He turned it up until he was sure no one could hear his fractured sobs under the music, as he collapsed slowly inward on himself, pulled to the ground as if Hell had its hooks in him.
Then I'm walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?
His phone rang. He ignored it until it reached voicemail, then he heard Chloe’s voice. He answered before he could think about it.
“Chloe?”
“Yeah. It’s funny, just hearing you pick up is… I feel better.”
Davis scrubbed his face with his hands, pulling himself up to sit on his bed. “Yeah. Me too.”
Saw the ghost of Elvis
On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
But there's a pretty little thing
Waiting for the King
Down in the Jungle Room
“You know when I told you I was fine? Well, I was being gung-ho. I just had this really… fucked-up nightmare about us being back in that plant and I was wondering… okay, there is no way to say this without coming across like a complete wuss, so would you like to keep me company? We can watch King Kong. I’ll share my popcorn, you can geek out about the spider pit… hell, I can geek out about the spider pit.” She paused, her voice cracking a little. “I just don’t want to have nothing to think about but Arkin and Kelvin and all the others. I want something good.”
He knew what he should’ve said. I don’t quite know what these things are. But someone has to stop them. And you deserve someone with clean hands, not with blood. Instead, he said “I can’t. I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, farm stuff.”
He couldn’t have a life with her, not without trusting her with this, and she’d never understand. She would think he was a freak. A monster.
Then I'm walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?
“Oh, okay. Cool,” Chloe said, though it obviously wasn’t. “I’ll just grab a stuffed animal or something. Mind if I call him Davis?”
Davis almost smiled. God. He didn’t deserve her anyway. “I’d be honored.”
They've got catfish on the table
They've got gospel in the air
And Reverend Green be glad to see you
When you haven't got a prayer
Boy, you've got a prayer in Memphis
He had to protect Chloe. Even from himself.
“Is that Walking in Memphis on the radio?” she asked, desperately trying to shift the subject.
“Yeah. Yeah it is.”
“I love that song.”
“I did too.”
Now Muriel plays piano
Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her
And they asked me if I would --
Do a little number
And I sang with all my might
She said --
"Tell me are you a Christian, child?"
And I said "Ma'am I am tonight."
Author’s notes: This chapter covers 1x07 Craving and 1x08 Jitters.
This chaptervagrantdream saved like a crashing 747. Originally it started with the hostage situation in progress and ended it with Lex calling Roger Nixon. This was back when Davis’s rejection of Chloe took place back after Kelvin’s killing, which is the terrible story element I was talking about. It would’ve been so awful if, after being through that, Davis’s first thought wouldn’t be “I need Chloe’s help” (although I doubt he parsed it that way at a conscious level). But having time to reflect on it and commit more fully to this path he’s on and let his self-loathing grow, the decision to break away from Chloe comes much more naturally. And Earl Jenkins’ death makes an excellent impetus for this.
Again, so much of this from my e-mails with Vagrant, like Davis’s cold-blooded murder being propelled by Chloe’s injury. Adding the additional context also let me put in some hints at the storyline, so the characters who are going to be showcased later on feel like they’re part of a living, breathing world instead of walk-ons who are introduced suddenly. The little bit of redemption for Whitney was another late addition, since I’m not going to leave him at just being… Flash Thompson.
In my fiction, Nikki and Paolo can be seen as extras from the plane crash onward. Shut up, you know you’re geeky enough to get the reference.
I should note that the Walking in Memphis songficcery is all on me. I just liked the image of someone having a complete meltdown to this beautiful gospel song. The moral ambiguity of Davis’s actions are piling up fast, aren’t they? Never forget, he’s killing people.
As you should realize by now, the watchword for this is making it more than just Smallville with Davis in the lead role. So although eventually the Davis plotline and the Luthor plotline had to intersect, I held off on it until now, when Davis was already in deep shit. It really is almost going to be an incestuous love triangle between Clark, Davis, and Lex, with all the maneuvering and bitterness that implies, so you’ll have something to look forward to that isn’t TINY BLONDE PROTECT.
So no murder (probably) next time, but trust me, such shit will go down that you will be pounding the keyboard like you’re a flipper baby.
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,855
Author’s Note: Betaed by
vagrantdream.Characters/Pairings: Chloe/Davis, Lex, Clark, Earl Jenkins,
Last Part: Chapter 6
Next Part: Chapter 8
Summary: Davis suspected that anyone could be corrupted, but he never thought an old friend like Earl Jenkins could go bad. He never thought he could put Chloe in danger.
“So you hear about Eric Summers?”
“No, what?”
“Got busted spying on Holly with a telescope. His parents are cracking down hard.”
“Sucks to be him.”
Davis paused, rolling the basketball in his hands. He felt the pebbled texture for another moment, then shot. The basketball soared over Pete’s head and dropped through the hoop. Pete sighed as he went to retrieve it.
“As much fun as it is watching you enjoy your growth spurt, you know your parents are gone, right? We could be having a party.”
Davis fought the melancholy’s return, but it won, as it always seemed to. “Not much in the mood for a party.”
“If it’s a party, Lana’ll be there. She’s easy as pie.” Pete tossed him the basketball. “I hear she’s lost her virginity to half the football team. And blown the other half.”
“How long have you known me?”
“What makes you think I was talking about you? I’ve got needs too, ya know. But hey, I’m sure we can arrange for Chloe to meet you there, super-virgin.”
“Maybe I’m not in the mood for that either.”
“Did you die while I wasn’t looking? This is the same Chloe we’re talking about, right?”
Davis tossed him back the basketball. “Three points. Go for it.”
Pete looked over Davis’s shoulder. “Hey, Davis?”
Davis turned around. A man in a sweat-soaked janitor’s jumpsuit pushed his way out of the cornfield, stumbling, stirring up pockets of dust every third step. He blurred like a mirage.
“Earl?” Davis called.
Earl fell to his knees, biting down hard on his lower jaw as a sandstorm sprang up around him and died back down. “Davey… help me.”
***
They took Earl to the pick-up, holding him down when he had a seizure, and finally they lifted him into the truck bed. Pete rode in the back with him, signaling Davis to stop when Earl had one of his seizures. Whatever caused them, they were powerful enough to make the truck swerve all over the road if it was in motion.
Finally, they got to the hospital. By then, Earl seemed to have it under control. He kept asking for Davis’s father. A nurse on her cigarette break saw them, and then there were orderlies and a stretcher and Pete was filling out forms while Davis called his parents.
They arrived two hours later. Davis walked through the glass as his father talked to Earl. He’d been a farmhand several summers back, taking Davis to ballparks and movies while Jonathan was busy trying to perform a miracle with the lean farming season. They’d pulled through, like they always did, and Earl had gone off to work for
“Luthorcorp,” Jonathan spat. “He was working at their fertilizer plant when there was an explosion. Ever since then, he’d been having those… jitters.”
“Any idea what caused them?” Davis asked, carrying the coffee they were bringing back to Earl’s room.
“He says that the explosion was on Level 3, where Luthorcorp was experimenting with meteor rocks.”
“Meteor rocks?” Davis remembered the weird allergic reaction he’d had to them in Arkin’s mill, the black-out. “Dad, when Earl has one of his attacks, it’s like an earthquake. Could meteor rocks really do that?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. I called the plant. They have no record of an explosion. Neither does OSHA or the newspapers. They won’t even say there’s a Level 3.”
Davis took this in. “My class is going on a fieldtrip to the Luthorcorp plant in a few days. Maybe I could…”
“Davis, no. The Luthors have a lot of money, and you can bet they didn’t get it by playing nice. People get that rich, they think the laws don’t apply to them. If they did have something to do with what happened to Earl, what do you think they’d do to you?”
“I can handle myself.”
“Since when? You’re sixteen years old.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Davis held the tray out to Jonathan. “Can you take this? I need to make a phone call.”
***
Every time they were on a bus, Davis and Chloe would ride pressed into the same bench, Chloe at the window, Davis with a foot up against the back of the seat in front of him, squeezed together by the road. Chloe’s thigh against Davis’s, his arm against the side of her breast. It was an awkward, secret piece of intimacy, broken only by Pete occasionally leaning over the seat in front of them to chat.
Over the last few weeks Davis had been pulling in on himself, like he was allergic to her and a touch could make him break into hives. He’d even sat across the aisle from her sometimes. But on the class field trip to Luthorcorp Fertilizer Plant 3, he took her hand and started talking like a dam had been built between them and just busted.
She agreed to it. Grudgingly.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Chloe said as they got off the bus in front of the plant, where Chloe’s father worked.
“It’s not that bad,” Davis said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You do get to keep your firstborn son.”
“Can we rethink that deal? I’m bad with kids anyway.”
“Sorry, the ink’s dry. Just pull the dear daughter crap on daddy dearest, we find Level 3, Luthorcorp pays the bill for Earl’s cure, you get the story. And we get to snoop around, you love snooping around.”
“I do. Though if you wanted to get me alone in a dark corner, all you had to do was ask.”
Davis blushed and removed his arm. Even Chloe couldn’t seem to believe she’d said it, but went on.
“Maybe play some Barry Manilow…”
They walked through Luthorcorp’s front door and spent the next half hour listening to Gabe Sullivan’s lame jokes and, in Chloe’s case, praying for the sweet release of death. Then her prayers were answered.
“Could everyone please get down on the ground?” Earl mumbled. He lifted a gun, yelled “Now!”
***
Clark was so concerned he almost sped right into the staging area, but at the last second he looped around and slowed down in an alley. A minute later, he had pushed past the reporters and badgering parents to find his father.
Lionel Luthor was in the middle of a swarm of men, like different herds all drinking from the same watering hole. There were men in business suits, men in paramilitary uniforms, policemen, plant workers, and a chosen few reporters hanging on his every word.
“Dad!” Clark rushed to him. “I came as soon as I heard. Is it true Lex went in?”
“Give us a moment, please,” Lionel said to the throng. It was not a request. Bodyguards sprung into action, giving Lionel and his son some breathing room.
“Is it true?” Clark insisted.
“Son, your brother chose to take a risk. I thought it reckless, but Lex is well past the point of caring what I think.”
“Then let me go in there, I can take Jenkins down in two seconds!”
“Brave words, Clark, but we’re surrounded by the press. Imagine if your secret came out. People would fear you, try to exploit you. And then all the protection I’ve given you would be for nothing.”
“Of course, father. You’re right. As always.” And Clark looked through the plant’s walls, searching for his brother.
***
Davis couldn’t believe it. Earl Jenkins, his old friend, his father’s right-hand man, was holding him and his whole class hostage. It seemed the perfect cap to his new life. Everything else was going to hell, why not Earl? The Red tempted him to stand up, step through the bullets, and put a stop to Earl’s jitters for good. But Chloe was here, and he couldn’t bear for her to look at him like he looked at himself in the mirror.
While Earl raved at the security camera, stuttering with jitters, Davis crept over to Chloe. “You alright?”
“Don’t worry, I’m kinda getting used to insane mutant danger. This is going to make a heck of a story.”
He clapped her shoulder. “Good, you have your priorities in order.”
“Davis, can I ask you a personal question?”
Davis bit his lip. This was it. Life-threatening situations made people think this way. He certainly thought of Chloe every time he killed. She was going to ask if he loved her. And what could he possibly tell her?
“On the night Harry Volk died, you said you were going to protect Jim Gage. You were there.”
“I told you, Chloe, it was a commando, like the ones chasing Arkin.”
“They had guns. Not knives.”
Davis felt it like a punch in the gut. She knew. It was over. Any relief he might’ve felt was swallowed up by the knowledge that he’d lost her.
“Davis, I’m not accusing you of anything. I don’t know what you’re going through or where you are right now. But you’re my friend. And nothing can change the way I feel about you.”
He numbly felt his hand moving to her, pressing slowly against her cheek. She was real. That surprised him somewhat. Her eyes closed and she twisted a little under his touch, letting his hand roam down her face, her graceful neck, then over the delicate curve of her collarbone to feel her heart beat. Even. Sure. Safe.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he promised. “I won’t let it.”
“Of course not. You’re my guardian angel.”
He buried his face in her hair. “Do you have any idea how special you are?”
She put her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “When I’m with you, yeah.”
Davis stood, letting her arms slowly lapse from touching him. He turned. “It’s over, Earl. Let’s end this before anyone gets hurt.”
The gun pointed at Davis. “Sit down, Davey. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t. And you’re not going to.” He put a foot forward. Another. “Put the gun down.”
Earl quaked as another jitter hit him. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I know. I just don’t have a choice.” He took another step. The gun was against his chest. “You do. Put the gun down.”
Earl screamed as another jitter hit him. His free hand shook out, knocking Davis across the room. The hostages screamed. Earl slammed his hands into the wall, feeding his vibrations into it. The room shook. Pipes ruptured, spewed smoke. Cracks split the floor, spreading toward the hostages.
Teeth gritted, Earl forced it down, leaving only the grit tumbling from the ceiling and the sound of slow applause.
“Very impressive, Mr. Jenkins,” Lex Luthor said as he walked into the middle of the hostage situation. “Now if you’re done holding up the class, how would you like to see Level 3?”
***
As soon as the double doors closed behind Earl, Davis moved like a bullet, its gunpowder ignited. He’d worried loose a pipe from the wall and slipped it into his sleeve; now he jammed it through the handles, barring the door so Earl couldn’t double back. “Alright, everybody out! Exit’s that way, don’t stop until you see cops. Go!”
The hostages surged like one organism, stampeding down the hallway and streaming out the door. Davis looked around for stragglers, saw only one. Chloe. She was huddled on the floor.
Davis jogged to her side. “C’mon, Chloe, class dismissed.”
She didn’t move. A thought struck Davis, and he dropped next to her like the notion had drawn blood. Normally he was good at telling when someone was not breathing, but fear blurred his eyes and there was debris near her head, stained the same red as her sodden hair. He felt for her pulse, pressing her fingers into her flesh like he could push his hope into her and force her heart to beat.
It was him. He’d confronted Earl, he’d brought this on her…
He felt a pulse. Davis leaned down and kissed Chloe in brief gratitude. Scooped her up and carried her out the door. His heart still beat like a volcano erupting, both in fear for Chloe and in outrage for her. How dare Earl do this! There was no excuse. Davis’s sympathy for him was dwindling quick, and it was only the weight of Chloe in his arms that pulled him back from the threshold. If it had been anything other than Chloe nearest to him, he would’ve torn it apart and not stopped there… He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.
He emerged into sunlight, blinding. A street festival of joyous reunions thrummed in front of him. He corralled Whitney away from a tonsil-cleaning by Lana. “Take her, don’t set her down until you find an ambulance. I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.”
The way Whitney took hold of Chloe, like she was a sleeping baby, and the way he promised he would take care of her, made Davis look at him in a kinder light.
“Davis, your eyes,” Whitney said, jaw slack.
Davis looked at his reflection in a puddle. His eyes were a demonic red, like a fire within him was raging out of control. If that was the case, thinking of Chloe’s blood was gasoline. Some of it was on his sleeve…
She stirred, called his name weakly. He couldn’t let her see him like this, he couldn’t be near her like this. If he hurt her… But he already had hurt her. Him and Earl.
His parents saw him, called to him. He turned and walked back into the plant.
“Son, where are you going!?”
“Earl’s still in there.”
***
“This isn’t possible,” Lex said as the elevator jerked into motion. Jenkins had just hit a concealed button for the 3rd floor. A floor that shouldn’t have existed.
“That’s what I’ve been saying for the last two years.” Jenkins dug the gun barrel deeper into Lex’s skin. Lex didn’t think he was going to use it, but all it would take was one spasm at the wrong time…
The elevator shook. Lex winced before he realized it was coming to a stop. The doors opened. A catwalk bridged a vast open space.
Lex shook his head. “Clark would’ve told me about this.”
Earl prodded him with the gun. “Move.”
Lex walked out onto the catwalk, his steps echoing mechanically. Clark couldn’t have known. Could he? Of course, it would be just like Lionel to only trust his golden boy, the boy he handpicked instead of the one he was saddled with like some genetic disorder.
Lex turned to face Earl. “We’ve both been lied to. It’s obvious we’re in the same boat…”
“Boat? Buh-buh-boat? Lionel Luthor took everything from me! Now I’m going to take something from him.”
Lex had time to think something vaguely blasphemous of Someone’s idea of irony. Earl pointed the gun at Lex’s head. Then another jitter twisted him into a ball and back again repeatedly, like a toy being broken. The gun flew out of his hand. Lex watched the painful contortions, fascinated. A real-life Kryp. Intriguing.
Earl latched onto the handrails to stay up, causing the entire catwalk to quake. Lex lost his footing. On all fours, he scrambled for the other side. Behind him, the metal shrieked, almost overwhelming the disc-scratching noise of Earl’s jitters. Then, Lex was weightless, the ground stolen out from under him. The catwalk had broken. He snatched a guardrail as he fell, slipped off it, dropped, grabbed Earl’s legs.
They floated there, hanging off the broken catwalk, and Lex thought with odd calm so this is what it feels like to die. This is what Mom felt. Earl was blubbering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and the catwalk kept tilting down like a clock-hand. Lex closed his eyes, felt himself being pulled upward. Heaven was probably too much to hope for, so he opened his eyes.
One of the hostages was pulling Earl up, and Lex along with him. As soon as Earl had his arms wrapped around the guard-rail, the farmboy offered Lex a hand. Lex took it, and there was no mistaking how little effort it took him. It was like Lex weighed the same as a sheet of paper.
Then he set Lex down and ignored him, staring at Earl. Lex didn’t see his eyes, but from the way Earl reacted, that was probably a good thing. Earl curled into a ball, not going anywhere, and the farmboy took several deep breaths, his shoulders unknotting, his hands relaxing into a splayed rigor mortis, only a little less tense than fists. He said something like “she’s alive” before turning to Lex.
“You okay?” the kid asked.
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” A Kryp? He didn’t seem dangerous… anymore. “Lex Luthor.”
“I know who you are,” he said, too rapidly to be polite. “I’m Davis Kent,” he added apologetically, offering his hand.
Lex shook it. “Nice to meet you. Especially just now.”
“Yeah.” Davis looked at the drop. “Crazy the things you can do when your adrenaline’s pumping.”
The rest, Lex could’ve predicted in his sleep. Davis faded into the background with his parents. Clark gave Lex a brief hug and Lionel clapped him on the shoulder with a private squeeze to remind him who he belonged to. But as he fielded questions, Lex found his eyes drifting between two extremes. Earl Jenkins being led into a paddywagon, to be run through the system for a few weeks before ending up in 33.1; and Davis Kent reunited with his family, a short blonde girl hanging off his neck. Rejoicing in being alive.
The first chance he got, Lex dialed Roger Nixon. “Hi Rog. I’ve got a new assignment for you. Davis Kent.”
***
Trailing the ambulance that held Earl was easy. Davis just turned his headlights off and let the Red show him everything. When the ambulance stopped at a gas station, he made his move. He parked a mile behind and ran while the driver used the restroom.
Davis forced the lock and climbed into the cab. Earl looked up at Davis from where he was strapped down, seeing a silhouette blackened by the setting sun. “Davey, thank God! Get me out of here, they’re taking me back to Luthorcorp, they’re going to do tah-tah-tests on me…! Davey?”
“That’s not my name anymore.” He walked around Earl to the head of the gurney, where a strap held Earl’s neck. He grabbed it.
It wasn’t his fault. He’d given Earl every chance to change his course. But the beast inside Earl was too strong. It had to be stopped before it hurt anyone else.
“I’m sorry.” He pulled on the strap, drawing it taut around Earl’s throat. “It’s better this way.”
Earl just gurgled, looking up at Davis with muddled eyes. Like he couldn’t understand what was happening to him.
Davis gave the strap one last pull. “You’re free now.”
Someone had left the ambulance’s radio on.
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
Davis held it together. He’d gotten good at that. The storm of fear and recrimination raging inside him, what was it compared to the Red? And he could control that, couldn’t he?
He got home, staggered inside, stripped off his outerwear as he went up the stairs. Fell into bed facefirst and thought about how loud he could scream if he let himself.
A thought struck him. He got up and ripped through his CDs until he found the mix Chloe had burned him. He shoved it into his radio and pressed play.
Yeah I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a boy can be
He turned it up until he was sure no one could hear his fractured sobs under the music, as he collapsed slowly inward on himself, pulled to the ground as if Hell had its hooks in him.
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?
His phone rang. He ignored it until it reached voicemail, then he heard Chloe’s voice. He answered before he could think about it.
“Chloe?”
“Yeah. It’s funny, just hearing you pick up is… I feel better.”
Davis scrubbed his face with his hands, pulling himself up to sit on his bed. “Yeah. Me too.”
On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
But there's a pretty little thing
Waiting for the King
Down in the Jungle Room
“You know when I told you I was fine? Well, I was being gung-ho. I just had this really… fucked-up nightmare about us being back in that plant and I was wondering… okay, there is no way to say this without coming across like a complete wuss, so would you like to keep me company? We can watch King Kong. I’ll share my popcorn, you can geek out about the spider pit… hell, I can geek out about the spider pit.” She paused, her voice cracking a little. “I just don’t want to have nothing to think about but Arkin and Kelvin and all the others. I want something good.”
He knew what he should’ve said. I don’t quite know what these things are. But someone has to stop them. And you deserve someone with clean hands, not with blood. Instead, he said “I can’t. I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, farm stuff.”
He couldn’t have a life with her, not without trusting her with this, and she’d never understand. She would think he was a freak. A monster.
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel?
“Oh, okay. Cool,” Chloe said, though it obviously wasn’t. “I’ll just grab a stuffed animal or something. Mind if I call him Davis?”
Davis almost smiled. God. He didn’t deserve her anyway. “I’d be honored.”
They've got gospel in the air
And Reverend Green be glad to see you
When you haven't got a prayer
Boy, you've got a prayer in Memphis
He had to protect Chloe. Even from himself.
“Is that Walking in Memphis on the radio?” she asked, desperately trying to shift the subject.
“Yeah. Yeah it is.”
“I love that song.”
“I did too.”
Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her
And they asked me if I would --
Do a little number
And I sang with all my might
She said --
"Tell me are you a Christian, child?"
And I said "Ma'am I am tonight."
Author’s notes: This chapter covers 1x07 Craving and 1x08 Jitters.
This chapter
vagrantdream saved like a crashing 747. Originally it started with the hostage situation in progress and ended it with Lex calling Roger Nixon. This was back when Davis’s rejection of Chloe took place back after Kelvin’s killing, which is the terrible story element I was talking about. It would’ve been so awful if, after being through that, Davis’s first thought wouldn’t be “I need Chloe’s help” (although I doubt he parsed it that way at a conscious level). But having time to reflect on it and commit more fully to this path he’s on and let his self-loathing grow, the decision to break away from Chloe comes much more naturally. And Earl Jenkins’ death makes an excellent impetus for this.Again, so much of this from my e-mails with Vagrant, like Davis’s cold-blooded murder being propelled by Chloe’s injury. Adding the additional context also let me put in some hints at the storyline, so the characters who are going to be showcased later on feel like they’re part of a living, breathing world instead of walk-ons who are introduced suddenly. The little bit of redemption for Whitney was another late addition, since I’m not going to leave him at just being… Flash Thompson.
In my fiction, Nikki and Paolo can be seen as extras from the plane crash onward. Shut up, you know you’re geeky enough to get the reference.
I should note that the Walking in Memphis songficcery is all on me. I just liked the image of someone having a complete meltdown to this beautiful gospel song. The moral ambiguity of Davis’s actions are piling up fast, aren’t they? Never forget, he’s killing people.
As you should realize by now, the watchword for this is making it more than just Smallville with Davis in the lead role. So although eventually the Davis plotline and the Luthor plotline had to intersect, I held off on it until now, when Davis was already in deep shit. It really is almost going to be an incestuous love triangle between Clark, Davis, and Lex, with all the maneuvering and bitterness that implies, so you’ll have something to look forward to that isn’t TINY BLONDE PROTECT.
So no murder (probably) next time, but trust me, such shit will go down that you will be pounding the keyboard like you’re a flipper baby.
