"I'm very sure
this never happened to me before
I met you and now I'm sure
this never happened before," Paul McCartney

So, it's been a couple of weeks since my confrontation with my father and I'm starting to get used to my new life. God, how many times have I said that, when he first started—no I don't want to think about that—with every new school, when I moved to Smallville, when Dad moved here, there's more but that was my old life. It's amazing how quickly Martha and Clark have assimilated me into their family. I've never felt like I belonged until now. Clark has been showing me how to do different things, chores. Even with someone like Clark, even with all of his abilities there are always things that need to be done, when you live on a farm. I don't think I've ever worked this hard in my life. Not that I'm complaining. Actually I think I'm enjoying myself, even now as we're working on this fence at 5:00 am. Clark is doing most of the work, but I'm holding up my end. OUCH! Splinter. Shit! Maybe I can keep working. I just can't bend my OW.

"Shit," I yell, looking at Clark quickly and then trying to go back to work even though I've only got one hand.

"What happened," he asks, picking up my wounded limb and hold it in his hands. "That looks like it hurts. Come on we'll go back to the house. I think Mom has a tweezers somewhere."

"I can keep, oomph, working. I just need to be careful," I try to explain my forehead bent in frustration and pain.

"Come on. It's okay. I was gonna suggest we take a break soon anyway. I can smell those pancakes from here."

"Okay." It feels strange, working side by side with Clark day after day, mainly because I've had an opportunity to see just what he can do, how strong he is, and all of the love and tenderness inside of him. I feel so great, being loved and surrounded by all this care and comfort but at the same time I can't help but feel that I come up incredibly short in comparison to Clark. He keeps on telling me how I shouldn't do that; how we are both so different it's like the apples and oranges thing. Except that with Clark and me it's more like apples and bowling balls. We get most of the way to the house, standing right by the barn when suddenly Clark pushes me inside of the barn and into a corner. I know what he's doing. Clark is trying to hide me and I know why he would try and do that. There is only one reason why he would try and do that. Lionel is in the house and Clark has seen him before Lionel could even know we were coming. I think if I could only have one of his abilities, I would like to be able to see through walls. Even if I couldn't stay here, I would be able to avoid Lionel as much as humanly possible.

"He's here isn't he? My father, I mean, he's inside. He came back for me." Clark looks away desperately. That's the only answer I need.

"I'll go in there and tell him that he can't—that he can't even see you." Clark's voice is quick and panicked. He wants to protect me. He thinks that if my dad and I are apart, if he keeps us separated, then Lionel's power over me will, disappear and I will be okay. I will be safe, then. There's only one problem with this plan of his. Lionel doesn't control me with a pair of handcuffs but with a long leash. I can run as far away as I like but then one day Lionel will pull the rope back, dragging me in kicking and screaming.

"I have to go in there Clark. Last time he figured I was just angry, scared and that I needed a break. Now that I've had my "vacation" he's here to tell me that it's time to come home." Clark sighs, touching the side of my face and hugging me.

"Please. Don't go with him. You can stay here and be safe, forever. If you let him take you away he'll hurt you."

"I know. But I have to fight him myself. I have to be the one to tell him no. I have to tell him goodbye—well not good but. It has to be me." Clark looks back at me with tears in his eyes, and nods.

//\\

Lionel is standing in the kitchen. His eyes pass over my body and I can feel myself shudder. Dad sees my hand curled at my side and he picks it up, examining it, running a finger over the splinter.

"That looks painful. Let me take care of that hmmm?" he asks, looking me straight in the eyes. Dad reaches into his pocket and like magic pulls out a pair of tweezers. Every one of his touches is gentle, deliberate. It's as if he's trying to show me that he's changed but I know better. I try to force my eyes open, despite the burning sensation building up inside of me.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," I whisper under my breath as he pulls the sliver of wood from my palm. Clark stands at my size, poised and snarling like an attack dog.

"There," Dad says, patting my hand but not letting it go. "That's better now isn't it?" He holds my hand, rubbing it, bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

"Let him go!" As angry as he is, Clark's words are smooth, even, controlled. Lionel relinquishes my hand, looking disappointed.

"I think it's time for Lex to come home now. I know what a strain it must be, having another person who needs food, shelter, and space."

"Lex helps out here. He's not taking anything we can't afford to give up," Clark tells him. "The only strain around here comes from you!"

"Clark. It's okay. Look, Dad, I know I've said this before but I don't wanna be a Luthor anymore." I decide to just right how and tell him what I'm thinking, feeling.

"Now Son, that's not something you can simply remove from your life. You're my son, not just by law but by genetics and, other ties."

"I'll give up everything that would have been mine. All I want in return is for you to leave me alone."

"You'd really be willing to give that up? You would forfeit all that I've worked so hard to give you?"

"All you have ever given me is pain. Now I don't know exactly what the steps would be in this situation but you do what you have to do so I'm not your son anymore. And don't—if you need my signature on something, don't bring it by yourself." Lionel places a hand on my cheek, slides it down my neck, shoulders, chest, down, down, down, until it rests on my thigh. Please just leave. I can't fight you and if you push any harder I'm gonna go with you and stay there forever. I can see Clark deciding whether or not to tackle my father but then he lets go.

"Now Lex, you understand you're giving it all up not just the money. If you need help getting yourself out of a situation, don't waste your one phone call on me."

"Yeah, okay," is about all I can manage but it's enough. Lionel turns, reaching to grope me again, but then he thinks better and just walks out the door. As soon as he goes, Clark and Martha both hug me and say over and over how brave I just was, but I can't hear them. All I can think is that it's over; it's finally over. No mater how many times I tried to leave, tried to run away, tried to get out of my father's clutches, the only time I have ever believed I was truly safe is now.

"I am so proud of you, Lex," Martha tells me, kissing the side of my head.

"Me too," Clark says holding me in his arms. "I love you Lex. I love you so much."

"I love you too Clark," I say. I don't think I've ever said that before and meant it. I'm getting better. I know that now and I'm gonna be okay.