The Depths We Sink To (Chapter Twenty-Eight)

Still spoiling Descent. I still hate the wonky timeline and how they seemed to cut and paste the scenes. I'm also spoiling Veritas as I've moved the Chlarkana asylum scene (as I think I've said I'm doing before) to after Descent as it made no freaking sense where it was and created many wardrobe headaches and was contradicted as being the next day in this very ep and I'm done ranting about that.

Stupid, lazy show.

Chapter 28

Chloe moved through the Isis offices, thinking this was the last place she expected to be. She had just got home and had been ready to get into pajamas and at least halfway into a bottle of whatever Lois might have lying around, anything but twenty-one-year-old scotch, when she checked her voicemail. At least three messages from Jimmy. She supposed he'd probably tried her cell already, but that was sitting at the Daily Planet with all the rest of her worldly belongings that were now in the possession of Lex Luthor, who'd just fired her. It was pretty safe to say he'd now taken everything from her. Her dreams, her hopes, her once unerring moral fiber and now her damned purse.

Jimmy said to meet him here, of all places. But she supposed it made sense. From what Lana had said, this place was rife with the latest and greatest in technology. And he needed to clear up a picture. A picture he said would prove Lionel Luthor's death wasn't a suicide. That had her pretty damned tense. Because, though Lionel had no small share of enemies, only one was working in that building when he fell to his death. And it made her feel sick and angry on a night when she already felt miserable enough. 

That had been about the only thing she could give Lex during their ill-advised affair: that he wasn't a murderer. She hoped she could still have that, at least. But that strange sort of ruthlessness in his eyes tonight spoke to her. She knew what Lex looked like after he won something, whether it was an argument or a little game of "who comes first." She had a feeling he'd won tonight, though he didn't seem satisfied. That was the problem with Lex. He never would be satisfied and she still hated herself for thinking, on some level, that she could make him so. She'd been so damned foolish, silly, stupid, and now unemployed and...

She cut off her shame-filled inner monologue as Clark strode in. "Hey."

"Hey. Jimmy and Lois here?"

"Not yet, but Jimmy's message said he already sent the file, so I was about to get started." Whether Jimmy was here or not, she damned well had to do something because thinking about this on any level was not an option.

"I got a message that Lionel left for me in his vault. Chloe, I think I know why he was killed. He was trying to protect me."

Chloe moved toward the computer room, deciding that just a bit of thinking might be in order. "Lionel did say something terrible was coming." And she didn't listen, didn't believe him when he said he'd repented, but if he did...

"There's something on Earth that can be used to control me," Clark said behind her.

"Control you?" she said, almost glad of the distraction. She could swallow her guilt a little longer if there was a good mystery to figure out. "As in, 'Do my bidding,' like some sort of puppet? I mean, what could possibly pull your strings?" She moved to the monitors.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it takes two keys to unlock."

She stopped, turned back to him. "Clark, when I went back to the Daily Planet tonight, there was a key in my desk. Lionel left it there for you," she said, glad to have at least one mystery solved.

Clark's eyes widened. "Where is it?"

"Lex took it. I was trying to hide it from him, but then he fired me, which is fine," she went on quickly, off Clark's guilty look, "because I wanted to get out of that black hole anyway, but..." It wasn't a black hole once. It was everything she wanted. She'd hoped it could be again, that she could wait him out, be there to see him escorted out of the building. The fact that it was the other way around was galling. "Besides, we don't have time to talk about my 9-to-5 right now." She had to keep moving on, keep working at something, if not her job. "So you think that that mystery man was after the locket?"

"I don't think our mystery man is much of a mystery at all." She didn't want to agree, no matter how angry she was at Lex, she really hoped he wasn't that mystery man. "Considering that Lex went to the Daily Planet tonight," Clark went on, chipping away at her hopes as she typed, "the same night that his father died and fired you over that key... How long till we get an ID on this picture?"

Chloe stared at it. "Jimmy wasn't kidding when he said there isn't a lot of photo in this photograph. I mean, it's gonna take me at least a couple of hours."

"Keep workin' on it," Clark said before disappearing.

Chloe sighed and went to work, even if every click hurt.

****************************

It hurt.

Lex strode down the hall toward his office, knowing he had everything now. And it still hurt. Maybe once he got to Zurich, maybe once he held whatever it was Veritas was protecting in his hands, then it would stop hurting. Then he'd feel... He stopped in the hall. He'd killed tonight. His own father. Maybe nothing would ever feel good again and maybe this was no more than he deserved, or way less than he deserved. 

He moved forward. It's all he could do now. He would grieve later, when he had time. Maybe he'd even find some sort of penance. But not now. Not when everything was... 

He froze at a noise in his office and moved quicker, feeling something now as he saw Clark Kent moving away from his desk. Anger. "My father just died and you're already breaking and entering?" He couldn't even get some fucking peace tonight, of all...

"Lionel would never take his own life."

Lex took a deep breath before replying. Clark didn't know and, if Lex could help it, he wouldn't. "I thought you'd at least try to offer some words of comfort." But if he just assumed he did it and... What the fuck did he care what Clark thought anymore? They were finished. "Get out."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Clark said with narrowed eyes.

"You can still be good, Lex."

Lex put a hand to his head at the tiny, annoying voice. 

"Tell Clark what you did," it whined. "He's our friend."

No. He wasn't. He never had been, not really, and especially not now. He wouldn't understand a life under that man's thumb, why he had to do it, the events that led him here. Not supposed good people like Clark. "I'm not gonna debate my father's mental state with you." And he was not about to argue with a hallucination in front of him, either. "I'm grieving, Clark." It was true. He was trying not to, but it was there. Did it even matter that he did it, was forced to do it? It hurt. "I think you know what it's like to lose a father," he said, moving away, wishing he'd just go.

"Don't bring my father into this," he heard behind him.

"Why not?" Lex turned back to him. "Our fathers were a lot alike. Smart, strong-willed, and both died prematurely." Yours didn't torture you for sport, but...

"You know, you're right, Lex." Clark said, moving closer. "Lionel did die too soon. I wanna know the truth about how he died."

Lex stiffened. So Clark did think he did it. The fact that he did didn't change the bitter taste of it all, that supposed good people like Clark would just point the finger at him. "The truth is," he began acidly, "our dads were alike in another way." He moved around Clark." See, they both felt that you were the kind of son a father could be proud of." Never him, no matter what he did, he was never good enough.

"They would have felt the same way about you, Lex," he heard behind him, "if you would have tried. What happened to you?"

"I did try, Clark." He turned, embittered at the implication he didn't. All he did was try to be accepted, by his father, even by Clark's, by Clark himself, by Lana, and Chloe... He pushed that away and focused on the supposed good person, supposed friend in front of him now. They were all the same now, all on their side. Even his father, arguably the most corrupt man on the planet, had been accepted over him, on that other side. Fuck them! And fuck Clark first! "In fact, when we first met, you inspired me. All I wanted was to be your friend, but you turned your back on me." Lied to me, hid things from me, so many things that some still lay hidden...

"So you're the person you are today because of me."

He wanted to agree because he was beginning to think Clark finally had one thing right, but Clark went on.

"I tried to be your friend, Lex, but all you care about is power and control."

"This is Smallville!" he found himself yelling. "Meteor freaks, alien ships, cryptic symbols..." He wondered if any of this would get through, make Clark admit to... he couldn't even think it, but it was there. Something was there, tickling at the back of his mind. "These threats are real. Someone had to take control. Someone has to protect the world." 

"Listen to yourself, Lex," Clark said dully. "You're so caught up in your own delusions, you've lost track of reality."

"Have I?" He wondered at his gall, to tell him he was deluded after all he'd seen. "Then let's talk about something you can't deny," he said, moving toward him. "After years of pleading with my father to show me some compassion, he turned to you with open arms. Now, what would a worldly billionaire have in common with a simple farm boy?"

Clark hesitated. And Lex caught it. "Maybe he just knew he could trust me."

"Of course," Lex scoffed. "Everyone can trust Clark Kent. You're the perfect son. So... so why did Jonathan Kent always seem so stressed?" he tried, pacing away, wondering if this would make him fucking leave? Because he wasn't sure he wanted to speak so baldly, not until he knew for sure... "I mean, was raising the perfect son really that much work?" he said, driving it home. "I wonder how much of a strain it put on his heart?"

"Are you blaming me for my father's death?" Clark moved forward, in his face now. "Are you? You're the guilty one, Lex, not me. And this time, you're gonna own up to what you've done." Lex knew what was coming. He took deep breaths, steeling himself for it. "I know you killed Lionel."

"Who's delusional now?" he said calmly.

"I have proof," Clark sneered, storming out.

Lex stared after him, hoping it wasn't true, but he knew it very well could be. He hadn't taken precautions. He'd hardly knew what he was going to do until just before he'd done it. But he'd been sloppy. If there was something... He pulled out his phone, dialed Gina.

"Lex," she answered eagerly. "Don't worry. I'm nearly there and..."

"There's evidence. About my father," he growled. "Someone said there's proof and..."

"I'm on it," she cut in. "I'll make sure it's completely eradicated. I've already..." She broke off. "Someone's here," she hissed. 

"Where?"

"Isis. I'll take care of her," she hissed again. "Don't worry."

"Isis?" 

Isis. That was Lana's little haunt. He felt a small frisson of worry. As spectacularly as their marriage had failed, he knew he'd played a part in it. "Just don't hurt her," he said tiredly. 

"I swear, Lex," she said, dispensing with "sir," it seemed. "This will all be over. I swear. And all your hard work..."

"Yes. Fine." She was good. Her rather annoying crush on him aside, she was damned good. "Just don't kill anyone," he snapped before hanging up. Enough people had died this week. And it hurt.

But he had to. Maybe Patricia Swann could have been handled better, but Lionel... He'd been meant to and that was the moment. He'd felt it. No matter how it hurt, no matter what happened now, he had to do it. It would be worth it in the end. He had to do it. Had to...

**************************

She didn't want to do this. Every frame brought her closer and closer to so many things she didn't want to know, had refused to see. According to what Clark had found in his vault and Lionel leaving that key, Lionel really was protecting Clark. So maybe Lionel was telling the truth about not killing Patricia Swann. That left only one suspect, only one other person who had something to gain by killing someone connected to Veritas and... It all hung on these last frames. If Lex killed Lionel, then she couldn't deny, he might have killed Swann, too. And she almost didn't want to know it. She couldn't say she hated him now and she didn't want to hate him, not really. She just wanted him to stop. 

But so many things followed from murder. It would be easy to think a man who killed for knowledge would fuck a silly, inexperienced girl like her for more than some jollies. She didn't want to think these last months should be nothing for her, and less than nothing for him. But it followed. Everything she didn't want to know and everything that followed was now becoming undeniable as the last frame cleared. There, just beyond the vertical blinds to the right of Lionel's flailing body in midair, there he was.

"You really did it, Lex," she said dully. She felt grieved, angry, guilty, duped. She wasn't sure which took precedence and she didn't have time to figure it out before she felt stabbing pain on the back of her head, felt her body hit the floor, and saw the world go black.

She saw Lex in that blackness, taunting her, telling her corrupting her dreams was all a test, watching her with narrowed eyes, asking her what kind of freak she was, telling her he'd had better, but also... staring at her in that soft, disconcerting way, whispering her name... Chloe... Chloe... 

"Chloe?" Not whispering. And not Lex. Clark. "Chloe, you in here?" She opened her eyes, wincing and putting a hand to her head. "Chloe, what happened?" She felt his hands on her. "You okay?"

"Somebody hit me," she grunted, trying to rise up off the floor. Clark helped her and she stood, staring at the screens, full of static now. "They destroyed the picture," she breathed, not even surprised. She was used to him being one step ahead, screwing her over, clouding her judgment, making her think she was something more... "But you were right, Clark," she went on blankly, refusing to let him hurt her anymore. "I saw the picture. It was Lex."

Clark didn't react, as if he knew all along. She wished she had. It would be easier. "When I went to see Lex, I found Lionel's locket. But without that photograph, we can't prove anything."

She hardly wanted to prove anything, hardly wanted to believe it, still. Chloe glommed onto something more solid. "What about the key?"

"I X-rayed the entire mansion. It's nowhere to be found. What happened to Jimmy and Lois? Where are they?"

"I don't know, and I'm worried." She wasn't even sure how long she'd been out. "The last I heard, they were leaving the Daily Planet. If whoever attacked me followed the photo from there to here..."

"He may have stopped Jimmy and Lois from leaving the building," Clark said, finishing her thought. As he did. She should stick to him from now on. They was nothing to be gained from even thinking about gray areas and Lex. "I gotta go," he said, moving to the door.

She followed, gripping his arm, turning him to her. "Clark, if Lex has both of those keys, not only will he discover your secret, but he'll have total and complete power over you." And one of them needed to be totally clear of him. "Now that's not just your worst nightmare, it's everyone else's, too." And still hurt to think of it, of what he'd done and what he could do. It followed. "Be careful," she said softly.

He sped out and she watched, taking a moment to stare after him. Yes. She'd stick to Clark now. Stick to working. Maybe she was unemployed, but she had a job and Clark was that job. Lana was that job. Kara was that job. She wouldn't even consider Lex beyond how to stop him. It was like stopping Brainiac. Lex was about as cold and dead as that machine. It was best to think of him that way. 

She moved into the control room, grabbed the overnight bag she was now using as a purse. She'd work from home. This place gave her the heebie-jeebies, anyway. Being knocked out for however long didn't help. She'd find Brainiac. Find Kara. Fix Lana. That was her job now. And she'd make sure she was damned good at it.

*****************

She might be the best damned assistant he'd ever had. He'd decided now, halfway into a bottle. Right from the bottle. He played her voicemail again. 

"Hi, Lex, it's Gina. Please call me back. I've found who you've been searching for. I know who The Traveler is."

She was definitely getting a raise.

He pressed one to listen again, looking over his office from up high. "Top of the world, Pa," he yelled, hoisting his bottle and chuckling to himself, thinking this was like a wake, wondering if his father would appreciate him quoting classic gangsters. That's what his father was, in so many ways, until he suddenly found Jesus or Clark Kent or whatever the hell... "Just doing right by you," he slurred. "Just finishing your work. Think you'd like that, you... crazy old bastard." Maybe it was fitting. Lionel killed his parents. "Just... following in your footsteps, Dad." But better. Not for anything as petty as insurance money. At least he had a damned good reason.

"...found who you've been searching for," he heard, then put his phone back to his ear. "I know who the Traveler is."

"And so will I," he whispered, deciding the wake was over. Time to focus. But he played it again, noting that she sounded rather satisfied, which meant she'd succeeded in deleting whatever proof Clark claimed was out there, which meant he was free to go where he wished. On that note...

He dialed her again. It didn't even ring. He hung up and knocked back the last gulp, not too worried. He was a little too drunk to be worried anymore. There were dead spots on the freeway and she'd be here soon enough. They could plan then. He stumbled to his chair and sat down hard, taking another swig. He was feeling no pain now. He'd just a little more while he waited for Gina, then...

He stopped, some scotch splashing on the glass table.

Fuck waiting. He should be planning now, not getting drunker. And out of a bottle. How fucking low was that?

"Now for a new low," he grumbled. He hated doing it, but he called Regan. "Fucking Regan," he muttered as he dialed. Guy was kind of an asshole, but he was efficient enough.

"Sir," he said, in that smarmy way of his. "I'm very sorry about the loss of your father."

"Yeah," he slurred, pushing the bottle away. "Anyway, I can't get Gina."

"Well, Mr. Luthor, I can arrange for whatever you need to comfort you in this time of..."

"I need a funeral," he cut in. He had a feeling Regan knew as well as he did that he didn't need comfort right now. "I need it tomorrow." He wasn't sure he had time for one, but the old bastard deserved at least that.

"Sure. I'll make sure a notice is in the early edition and hire a piper as I believe your father would appreciate a Scottish..."

"No. No notices. No guests. This is... private." He didn't want to be gawked at, whispered about. And he sure as hell didn't want to stand alone on the hillside his father had long ago chosen with some fool in a kilt. "Just make the arrangements." He leaned back in his chair.

"Absolutely, Sir. And if you wish..."

"After the funeral," he cut in, "I plan on taking some time off." He wouldn't tell Regan with what. He was sure as hell no Gina. "Get the jet ready."

"And where..."

"Zurich," he said abruptly before hanging up. Then leaned back, sighed, thought about his own funeral. He might not be far behind his father. A part of him felt it, felt death, knew he had to beat it to the answers before...

"You can't run away, Lex." He looked in front of him, not surprised to see that baby-faced spectre anymore. "No matter where you go, I'll always be there." He looked away, wondering if being stalked by a hallucination made you crazy if you at least ignored it. "You can't get rid of me. You need my help. There's still good inside you. I know it."

"I don't want your help," he said aloud, pretty sure arguing with a hallucination, multiple times now, meant he was half past crazy, anyway.

"Don't go to Zurich," the little voice pleaded.

"I'm going." He stood. "I have to." He moved to the stairs. He wasn't going to discuss it anymore, particularly not with someone who didn't exist.

"Dad was right." He stopped, hating the way it called Lionel Dad, with that whine, that sad little crack that spoke of years of trying to please a man who gave him nothing but loathing in return. "If you open the box, it'll destroy you."

"It's all I have left," he said loudly. He'd lost everything now. No lovers, no friends, no family. Just answers now. That was the only... 

"It's not true." The thing nearly smiled. "You still have me."

God help him, it sounded like a fucking threat. "No." If he had to spend what was left of his days dogged by a memory of a sniveling boy... "I'm done listening to you," he growled, moving forward. It refused to disappear with words, then maybe action...

Even as he dragged it to the stairs, down each one, hearing the thump of its legs on each one, for God's sake, he knew he was fucked in the head. Sane men didn't interact with ghosts, especially not physically. But he was doing it. He'd found himself doing lots of things these days that sane men, supposed good men, would never do. And he was through caring. All he had to do was survive a little longer and he wouldn't, not with this thing on his back.

"You make me weak," he grunted, pushing it into the fire as it stared with wide, frightened eyes. Maybe that's what this thing was. Fear. Because he felt that fear leave him, felt a calm settle over him as the fire seemed to blaze in front of his eyes, swallowing the thing until... He found himself alone again, in front of that fire. Not blazing. Hardly even crackling, except weakly, dropping flaming embers weakly into the grate.

So he was insane. 

Of course, it was gone. He'd rid himself of his... demon. 

Maybe, in the end, this was just an episode. A momentary breakdown. Maybe it was over now. 

************************

Chloe wondered when this would be over. She walked into the barn, remembering simpler times. When the Kents were here, when she'd come to study or just to be with him, when her biggest worries were the latest meteor freak, a math quiz, her hopeless crush on Clark, and the irresistible Lana Lang. Now she was a meteor freak, Lana was a vegetable, and Clark was about to be Lex's puppet. Add in no small measure of guilt at having fucked, for months, that very man and she hadn't slept a wink. 

"Long night," she sighed at the top of the steps, seeing Clark hunched over his desk. At least one thing hadn't changed. When things were at their worst, she could always find him here, cursing fate. "It's good to see the sun again." 

"It's too bad Lionel's not here to see it," he said miserably, leaning back.

Chloe stared down at the silver object on his desk, Lionel's message, thinking that she wouldn't have agreed a week ago. But if he really was trying to protect Clark... Well, she would have tolerated him better. Maybe not forgiven all, but formed an uneasy truce. "Lex closed the funeral to any and all guests." It was almost a relief. Saved her the decision of going. She wasn't sure she had it in her to stand and mourn for one man who'd made her life hell in front of the other who'd made her life hell. "In other words, Lex is the only one invited."

Clark stood and moved around the desk. "Lionel deserves better."

She wasn't sure she agreed, so she didn't try to. "At least we know how Lionel truly felt about you. I mean, he thought of you as his second son."Screwed with you as bad as the first, she thought as he stared out the window, but didn't say. Clark didn't need her bitterness right now. He needed her comfort.

"Another person who treated me like a son and died because of it."

He also made comforting him impossible. "Clark..."

"Jor-El died getting me on that ship. My dad died from a heart attack from the powers he took on protecting me. And now Lionel's been murdered protecting my secret."

Chloe couldn't argue with that, so she didn't try. But she moved forward, tried to find something nice, something nice for all of them. For Clark's sake. "They did die for you, Clark. But ultimately, they died for all of us. There was a reason those men were in your life. Each of them added something to the man that you are today." It sounded pretty, was even true.

Clark didn't turn. "How can Lex have done it? How does a son...murder his own father?"

"Total absence of love," Chloe said firmly. On both their parts and in so many ways. "Some say that's the definition of evil." Lionel created Lex in his own image, like an evil God. It almost didn't matter that he changed in the end. He'd left them with this mess. This son he created. "You have to get those keys away from Lex, Clark, before he kills anyone else."

"He's not gonna have the chance," Clark said, turning to her. "I won't let him."

She nodded, staring into his reddened eyes. He looked so tired, so beat down and she wondered, if she'd been around more, available to him more, if things would be different. How could she ever let herself get so far from...

A shrill ring cut into her thoughts and Clark moved to his desk, picked up his cell. It was just as well. She couldn't let herself mope. She had no one to talk her out of it. She doubted Clark would, if he knew what she'd done. Of course it didn't look like Clark was in any condition to comfort anyone.

"I see. I... I'd like to see her when..." He broke off and Chloe moved to him, gripping his arm. "When it's done." He hung up, breathing heavily.

"Clark?"

"It's Lana. They're transferring her to St. Christopher's. They say there's... nothing else..."

She pulled him down, then. Because there was nothing else she could do. There was no comfort today.

*****************

They spent the rest of the morning alone. Clark pacing a waiting room, waiting to see Lana and Chloe trying to get something, a blip, on Brainiac. She couldn't prevent Lana being sent to St. Christopher's, but she could sure as hell make sure her stay there was as short as possible.

Of course, hours into it, she found herself frustrated, covered in coffee stains, and unable to stare at her computer for one more second. Maybe she should be doing this at Isis. Someone needed to be there, with Lana... away. She couldn't think about that now. She stared at her laptop again. The screen was blurring in front of her. She knew she needed sleep, but it seemed out of the question these days. 

So she changed her coffee stained clothes and headed to St. Christopher's. She had to see Lana. These last few days had been so upside down, she hadn't had a chance just to be there. Clark said Brainiac said she was aware. After that hell of a day they spent together, she at least wanted Lana to know she was pulling for her, doing what she could.

The grounds were beautiful. They could give stately Luthor Manor a run for it's money. It's a shame that both places were filled with people who were unable to appreciate what they had. She allowed her mind to wander to Lex as she parked, moved up the tree-lined path. Pushing the fear of what he might do aside, she wondered what he was feeling now. Was he happy now? She sure as shit hoped he wasn't, but she just bet he was. He'd bested them. He had those keys in his hands before she and Clark even knew they existed. And now...

She pushed him away again as she checked in at the front desk, was directed to the waiting room. She was here for Lana. And for Clark. Clark said he'd take care of Lex, stop him. She had to believe he would because she didn't have it in her to do more than she was doing. She suspected, with Lana here, she'd have to do more than keep an eye on Isis. This had to be Clark's...

She stopped on opening the door. She wouldn't push him on it now. He looked upset enough.

"Hey. How is she?"

Clark only glanced down, opening and closing his mouth. She wasn't expecting a change. They didn't work miracles here.

"Clark, I'm so sorry," she said. It was all she had to offer.

"I really need to find Brainiac," he said, his voice hoarse. "Please tell me that you've got a lead."

"I wish I did. But it's like Kara and Brainiac vanished off the map." She wished she had more to offer.

She didn't have much time to dredge up a bright side as an orderly opened the door behind her. "You can see her now," he said as she turned.

She turned back to Clark. She wanted to see her as well, but knew Clark needed a moment. "I'll wait here for you," she said softly, watched him follow the man out the door.

She tried to sit, tried to wait, but she found herself unable. She had to see her, had to tell her all she was doing, all she would do, how she was going to fix this. She moved though the door and stopped in her tracks, seeing them at the end of the hall. 

Clark, bent over her lap, crying. She found herself crying as well, all of it crashing down on her, these last days that felt like years. In a matter of days, Lionel Luthor had gone from villain to savior to dead. In a matter of days, Lana had gone from rival to partner to friend to... gone. In a matter of days, Lex had gone from looming threat to outright murderer. And in a matter of days, Clark might go from hero to... she didn't know what. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Or not all of it.

She wiped her tears, tried to draw them back in, because she didn't have time for them.

She moved back to the waiting room, then into the outer hall, pulled out her cell. She could do some things.

She rubbed at her eyes and did the only thing she could think of, something she'd meant to do last night. She called Oliver.

"Well, hey there, Sidekick. Haven't heard back from you in a few months. Shame, too. You missed a hell of a lot of fun. A.C. and I hit a little snag in Guatemala. Could have used you. But you're just too busy for us," he sighed. 

"Well, I'm about to have a hell of a lot more free time, since Lex just fired me."

"Bastard. The gall. By the way, I knew that was coming."

"Didn't everyone?" She wouldn't go into the rest. There just wasn't time.

"Anyway, his loss is my gain. I have a few things going down near your neck and I can use a little light hacking. We've been using Victor, but he's killing team morale. Guy's too stiff. Plus, Bart thinks..."

"Actually, I could use your help," she cut in, not having time for pleasantries. "I'm trying to track power surges and I'm finding myself locked out."

"Let me guess. Clark's giving you homework. That task master. You know, one of us pays, so you might want to consider that when choosing which..."

"Oliver, Clark really does need my help right now. Lana's..." She wasn't sure she had time to explain the Brain Interactive Construct. "She's been infected by a virus," she said, summing up. "She's in a kind of coma."

"Well... I'm sorry. I figure you two were close."

They weren't, not really. But they could have been. She felt like they were so close to... being close. "We're just trying to do all we can. Tracking these power surges is a part of that, but I can't get beyond DWP grids and..."

"No. I get it. You need more clearance." He sighed. "Tell you what, I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll put my head together with Vic and see what we come up with. Get back to you in an hour or so."

"Thanks, Oliver," she sighed. "I owe you."

"I'll remember that," he said lightly before hanging up.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Not all the way finished with Descent. Have a few wee things to add in the next chapter. I could have added them here, but they seemed better to start with in the next. Or maybe I'm just trying to avoid *shudder* Sleeper. Somebody hold me.