THE BOY IN THE IRON MASK
Chapter Two by Orphieblue
---
The castle was cold when Lex entered the foyer.
He shivered, running his hands up and down his arms. The leather jacket he wore was fashionable but did little to retain any warmth, just like the mansion itself.
Romy strode in behind Lex, tossing a small suitcase onto the floor. It slide to a stop at Lex's feet and he looked up at the bodyguard in askance. He nudged at it with his foot. "What's this?"
"That's your clothing for now. You'll be awarded more later for good behavior," Romy said. He stared down at Lex until the boy was flinching. "I'll expect you to keep what you have in good condition. If not ..."
Lex didn't have to hear the rest of the sentence. He had an idea of what would happen and it would be nothing good. "So this is what jail is like, I guess. Do I get cigarettes and some outdoor time at least?"
Romy's expression remained stony. "Meals are at seven, four and eight. If you skip one, don't expect anything until the next. You'll be allowed to go to school. When you arrive home, you will do your homework. Once that's done, you'll have access to the mansion grounds. Weekends will be spent at my discretion." His lips ticked upward sarcastically. "If you're a good little boy, maybe I'll let you out for ice cream in a few months."
Lex felt the color drain from his face. Anger was quickly seeping in, past his fear. "Fuck you," he growled, from between clenched teeth. "If you think you can keep me a prisoner here ..."
"You're not a prisoner, Lex. You're Lionel Luthor's son and it's my job to help you appreciate that title," replied Romy, pulling himself up to his full height, making Lex back away. "And that's through the same hard work and discipline your father was brought up with."
"The discipline he's too fucking lazy to dish out himself, huh?" Lex snapped. "He has to hire some half-assed goon to do his dirty work? Some minimum wage jerkoff to keep me from embar ..."
The sentence wasn't finished as a sharp slap across Lex's face stopped him mid-sentence. He stumbled back, his cheek burning, eyes watering with tears at the hot pain.
Scowling, Romy loomed over him. "Next time, I'll crack your head wide open," he said softly, the menace clear. "Now get upstairs to your room and unpack. Stay there until supper. Then, I don't want you to be a minute late."
Still wobbly from the blow, Lex bent to pick up his suitcase. He stumbled a little, but ignoring the dizziness, he picked the luggage up. He ascended the stairs with his head held high, like his mother once taught him to.
They can never take your dignity, Alexander, she once claimed. Head up, always, my darling.
The memory of her voiced soothed Lex as he deliberately climbed the staircase. He waited until he was in the room, with the door safely locked after before he sat down on the bed and head in his hands, cried to his heart's content.
---
Dinner went by without incident and Lex spent a freezing night in a strange, king-sized bed.
It was November and the Kansas countryside was bitterly cold already. There was no fire in the room and the house's oil heat seemed to disappear seconds after it rose so Lex was left to huddle as best he could beneath a thin quilted comforter, there mostly for show rather than warmth.
He wondered what his club buddies were doing at that moment. Probably getting high and fooling around together, riding in their sleek daddymobiles without a care in the world. In truth, Lex never cared much for the high life in the clubs, he preferred to sit in a comfortable chair and read a good book or listen to music, but his father's constant demanding presence made enjoying such simple pleasures almost impossible.
He had to get out of the penthouse every night or die. And when out, he had to drink to get past his discomfort at his "friends" antics. He didn't like any of them, they all wanted something from him, things he couldn't or wouldn't give them. They mocked him behind his back, sometimes to his face when they thought he was too high to care.
In general, they behaved like jerks and none were worth the title of "friend."
Lex sighed and gathered the quilt closer. He cringed beneath it, shivering with cold. There were few warm clothes in the suitcase Romy gave him, so what was there would have to wait for school. He'd just have to deal with until he could get more.
And deal with it, he would. He wasn't about to let anyone grind him down; not Lionel, certainly not one of Lionel's hired goons. Lex's survival instinct was far too strong for any of that, too strong for anyone who dared to try and break him.
Time was on his side. If he were strong enough -- patient enough -- Lex hoped he could outlast them all.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to get some rest. Tomorrow would be his first day at Smallville High, no doubt replete with the endless snickers and jeers he always seemed to attract. Other kids his own age seemed to be uniformly assholes, so Lex coped by mocking them in ways that usually went right over their thick heads.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes it got him expelled from the school as it did the week before, but Lex didn't have the inclination or the energy to play nice. He'd tried that once or twice, it got him nowhere, so now it was kill or be killed.
Even if the weapons of choice were only words.
But words could be deadly, and Lex planned on fighting on this new battleground with everything he had.
---
Running downstairs after dressing Lex discovered he was already late by Romy's standards, if the empty breakfast table was any indication. His stomach grumbled loudly, but Lex simply shrugged and scooped up the set of motorbike keys and five-dollar bill left for him in the food's stead.
Five-freakin'-dollars. Lex shook his head. He was used to throwing away five-dollar bills as if they were pennies, since they were, at least to a billionaire's son.
What-ever, he thought angrily, shoving the money in his pocket. It was better than nothing.
A bookbag was waiting by the garage door. Lex considered leaving it behind -- he'd never bothered with books in any of his other schools, relying purely on his sharp memory -- but Romy would probably wrap it around his neck if he tried to leave it behind. At least this was a nice one; black Italian leather, designer make and Lex slung it sideways across his body.
Jogging through the garage, he found his motorbike. He was still under the driving age for a while longer, so this would have to do, but Lex didn't mind. It was a faithful machine, one of his favorite escape rides and Lex ran an affectionate hand over the handlebars. "It's just you and me, Millie," he said, snickering at the thought of Lionel finding out he named all his vehicles after ex-girlfriends.
Why not? They treated him better than any girl ever had. They deserved nice names.
Lex hopped aboard and gunned the engine. It was loud and powerful in the confines of the garage and Lex strapped on his helmet, smiling. At least the ride to school would be fun.
The automatic door slid open. Lex let the brake up and was off, racing down the mile-long driveway of Luthor Estates. If he stuck to the shortcut roads, he'd be in school fifteen minutes early. That might be enough time to sneak into a classroom and sit in the back, avoiding as much notice as possible.
Corn fields raced by. Lex relaxed, enjoying the powerful bike beneath him, the chilly wind brushing against his face. The roads were pleasantly empty, so Lex opened the engine some more, pushing it to the limit. He loved the thrill of danger, refusing to slow down even as a bridge came clearly into view -- even as his vision blurred a little from lack of food.
He hunkered down, steadying himself for a quick zip across the metal grating, when the unexpected happened.
A truck. In his lane, coming head on. Lex shook his head, thinking it was an illusion, but the truck wasn't disappearing. Shocked, he grabbed desperately at the brakes on the right handle. Too hard of a squeeze, too quickly and Lex felt the queasy feeling of a spinout coming on.
Turning ... turning ... and there was no longer any control. The bike spun wildly toward the bridge fence, straight into the river below with Lex still holding onto the handlebars.
I'm going to die, Lex thought, very calmly. I'm going to die here, where I almost died before.
Where I wish I had died and be careful what you wish for because ...
A flash of another face, just as shocked, standing in front of Lex as he flew over the fence and then ... darkness.
Cold darkness. Dreamless peace. No pain, just floating and Lex allowed himself to let go, to sink into the murky depths below. There was no sense of time so it might have been seconds ... or hours ... before Lex felt his chest being assaulted by a pair of clumsy hands, pushing ... pushing ...
Opening his eyes, Lex choked out mouthfuls of water. Everything came back in a rush. The cold ... the light ... the pain and Lex squinted through the bright sunshine, trying to focus on the unfamiliar face above him.
It was the face that had flashed above him on the bridge. How odd. How very odd. "Are you okay?" the face was saying. It belonged to another boy with dark, wet hair and a kind face, kinder than any Lex had ever encountered.
Lex didn't know what to blink at first. "I could have sworn I hit you," he ground out, spitting out the rancid taste of not-exactly-fresh water.
The boy stared at him for a long moment, before shaking his head. "If you had hit me ... I'd be dead."
With that, Lex's rescuer fainted dead away.
tbc
Chapter Three: Clark and Lex are introduced. School uniforms are improvised, and the first day at SV High begins.