inalienable rights CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Lex, though slight in stature when compared to Clark, cut an imposing silhouette against the motionless backdrop of those surrounding them. The fiery challenge glowed tangibly in his eyes as he stared Clark down, taut and unblinking.

Clark's mind was overrun, trying to process both the notion that Lionel Luthor was dead, and Lex's allegation that the blame for it belonged to him. "Lex…" he managed to stammer after a prolonged silence. "I… I'm sorry, your dad was - how? I had no idea, I - wait, what do you mean, strength of my rule?" His jaw fell agape as he regarded his friend's accusatory stance. "You think I killed your father?" He suddenly looked winded, as if he'd run a marathon with no super-human abilities to sustain him.

Lex's scrutiny did not soften outwardly, though he secretly acknowledged the ardor of Clark's reaction. "So, it's just a staggering, cosmic coincidence that within hours of your home being invaded on his orders, he suffered a cardiac arrest and -"

"What could Clark possibly have had to do with him having a heart attack?" Jonathan interjected in his son's defense.

Lex's glare was a visual dagger. "I think the events of the last twenty-four hours have earned me the right to speak without interruption, Mr. Kent," he spat coolly.

"Not if you speak to me that way, they don't!" Jonathan countered. "You may feel you have some justification in attacking my son, even though it's ridiculous, but you will not speak to him, or me, or anyone else under this roof like that again! This is my house! I've had enough of Luthors trying to take over my house, my family, my farm - you and your father have somehow managed to stick your finger into every damn aspect of our lives and I will not tolerate it anymore! You can not come in here and accuse Clark of - "

"My father died in a routine MedEvac flight out of the Kansas State Penitentiary! Routine, that is, until it exploded!" Lex shouted over Jonathan's tirade. "I've had every available record checked, that helicopter was meticulously serviced and maintained, and I have no doubt at all that investigators will find evidence that it was tampered with. Now, you tell me, who else had more motive or opportunity?"

Jonathan took a brisk step in Lex's direction. "Oh, there's no shortage around here of motive to get rid of a Luthor, got that right!"

"Are you threatening me now, Mr. Kent?" Lex demanded, meeting Jonathan's advance.

"No, Lex, that's the difference between Kents and Luthors - we have a sense of morality, for one thing, and - "

"All right! That is enough!" Lois shouted, stepping between the two foes before they drew close enough to throw punches. "I for one am sick of watching this scene unfold and apparently being the only one who has no idea what it's about! Mr. Kent, you're right, this is your home, but cool it - sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds there, but Lex's dad just died, I think he's entitled to some answers. And you - Lex - step back and look at who you're accusing, Mr. Salt-of-the-earth over here! Yeah, things happen around Clark and I better get some answers about that in the next ten seconds or I'm gonna give you all a demonstration of what it's like to be raised by General Sam Lane - but damn it Lex! He's still Clark! His moral compass is permanently stuck on 'choir boy.' How could you really think that he'd kill your father?" Lois' eyes skipped between the room's occupants along with her disjointed monologue, then finally landed on Clark. His eyes met hers with gratitude and sadness, and… something else. Something new and undefined. It unsettled her, evoking a reaction she hadn't wanted or expected, so she diverted her gaze again.

"Now both of you, sit down," Lois continued, regaining herself after her momentary departure from clarity. "Neither of you is objective enough to handle running this discussion, and I doubt anybody else here is either, so I'm gonna do it. Nobody talks unless I ask them to, got it? Everybody here wants an answer to something and nobody's gonna get it unless everyone shuts up and stops talking over everyone else."

"Lois," Jonathan tried to take back control. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but - "

"Well then please, Mr. Kent, take a seat and do as I ask," Lois replied with an authoritative smile. Nobody in the room could discern whether Lois was taking excessive liberties with the situation, or if she really was the only one with a clear enough head to make any sense of it. Lois herself was a bit taken aback by her unabashed audacity, but she nonetheless pressed on, taking charge from an investigative stance as Jonathan settled reluctantly into a chair beside the table.

"Well then, let's get started," Lois commenced. "First, let me see what I got out of this so far. Evidently the meteor shower had something to do with Clark's arrival from another planet, which - okay, that's a completely X-Files idea and I'm just gonna table that for a minute - and the meteor rocks are responsible for a ton of the weird stuff around here. Clark can do a lot of unusual things, presumably because he's an alien - oh my God, is he really? Wait, no - no, I'm not asking questions yet, let me finish thinking out loud. So, Clark's an alien - ha! Of course he is! And he's supposed to take over the planet? Yeah, okay, fearless leader in flannel… whatever - and Lex, you've always suspected there was something different about him, right? So what? You figure your dad found out his secret and Clark killed him for it? Is that what the whole house-arrest situation was this morning? Wait, was that only this morning? Shut up Lex, I'm still not actually asking you for answer. Today I've been held hostage without having a clue why, and I come back here to find all kind of weird evidence that this guy who's butt I've saved on more than one occasion is some kind of super-human alien thing or whatever, and - yeah, hey, who the hell are you two? And what are you doing here?" Lois demanded as she turned to Marin and Dr. Crosby, remembering them suddenly.

Knowing that the truth was imminent anyway, Dr. Crosby answered honestly. "I'm Dr. Bridgette Crosby, and this is Marin Blake. We're both employed by Dr. Virgil Swann, under the Swann Foundation, and have been working for the past several months on studying Clark's origins, abilities, biology, and weaknesses, among other things. After learning that Clark is the only known survivor of Krypton, a planet which was destroyed just after his departure as an infant, Dr. Swann assembled a team to study Clark for his benefit rather than that of the scientific community. We're here now because a former colleague - our biogeneticist - manipulated some of Clark's and Marin's genetic material into six alien embryos and secretly implanted her with one, and has since absconded with all of the data that reveals Clark's identity, along with all of our discoveries. We believe he brought this information to Lionel Luthor, which resulted in your unfortunate confinement here this morning, and which is no doubt the reason that the younger Luthor believes Clark to be responsible for his father's death." Dr. Crosby, in her usual fashion, delivered her address in a direct manner without pause to allow its gravity to settle.

Lois managed to hold her determined expression through the length of the doctor's speech, then began to slowly bob her head when she finished. "Okay then," she said casually, jutting out her lower lip. "That was… straightforward."

"Lois?" Clark spoke timidly, taking a step toward her.

"Hold it," she answered briskly, halting him with a raised hand. "I kind if need to digest that for a minute." She looked down at the floor and shook her head several times, disbelieving her own memories. "Oh my God!" she cried suddenly, raising her head to reveal that her eyes had grown moist. "Oh my God, I'm an idiot, I should have known something - and wait a minute!" She gestured to Marin with slightly shaking finger. "You - you're carrying his - his what? His baby clone? Is that it?"

"Lois," Clark tried again pleadingly, reaching for her shoulder. "Lois please, just listen to me for a minute, I can - "

"Did you kill Lionel Luthor?" Lois queried abruptly, wheeling on him and pulling herself just out of his reach.

"What? No! Of course I didn't, I've never killed anybody! I never would kill anybody!" Clark's eyes were ablaze with sincerity, and none of it was lost on Lois.

She held his gaze for an interminable length of time, searching his eyes for something. After a long, silent moment, she stepped back on her heel and nodded, appearing to have found what she was looking for. "Of course you didn't."

"You believe me?" Clark looked incredulous.

"I believe you. You're not a good enough liar to have done something like that and gotten away with it. You haven't even hidden your secret very well, the only reason it stays secret at all is because it's too unfreakingbelievable for most people to guess."

Clark stared at her, impressed with her acceptance and composure in the face of what she'd learned. "You're okay with this?"

Lois laughed out loud, and it sounded cold and hollow. "Not by a long shot! Not yet at least. You're an alien, Clark! It's gonna take a little time for me to combine that fact with the all-American farmboy quarterback image, okay?"

Clark looked around quietly at the other faces in the room, all focused with rapt attention on he and Lois. Lex - as always - was unreadable, Jonathan was still livid, Martha's face was ashen, Chloe's hands were clasped together in front of her mouth as she held her breath and her heartbeat in anticipation of her cousin's reaction. Dr. Crosby appeared perturbed by the interruption and the widening of the circle of those in the know.

Marin anchored her gaze toward the floor, though her eyes were closed against it, the lids holding back hot tears that betrayed the brokenness she felt. You - you're carrying his - his what? His baby clone? Is that it? Lois hadn't meant it venomously, but those words nonetheless poisoned her already bitter outlook. Is that it? Yes, Marin Blake, that's it. And that's all.

"Excuse me," she whispered meekly, slipping out through the kitchen door without anyone making a move to stop her, not that she expected to be chased.

Clark considered going after her, but was arrested by the look on Lois' face - shock, confusion, fascination - and he couldn't tear himself away. "Do you want to talk about this?"

Lois released her breath in a heavy gust. "You know, I'm not so sure my brain can process any new information right now, it needs a breather, I think. And the lump on my head is killing me - got an ice pack?" In other words, got a diversion?

"Yeah, of course," Clark replied, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the freezer. He wrapped a cold pack in a dishtowel and held it to the back of her head, meeting her eyes as she brought her hand up to replace his.

"Clark," she whispered reaching a cautious hand toward his face. She looked nervous, uncertain, biting her lower lip - then she brushed her thumb against his cheek, and her face broke into a wide, relieved smile. "It's funny, you know?"

"What?" Clark was transfixed. Her hand was still there, warm and soft against his face.

"You still feel like an all-American farmboy quarterback."