The Depths We Sink To (Chapter 40 - Epilogue)

I'm ending this by addressing, though not dealing directly with Odyssey. Also mentions of Plastique, but not much. 

Here's the recap of Odyssey if you're curious: http://smallville.wikia.com/wiki/Odyssey 

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Chapter Forty (Epilogue) 

One month later... 

Chloe had told Jimmy she was going straight to bed. She even had every intention of doing it. But she hadn't. She'd ended up curled up with Lois, watching old sitcoms as she claimed it was all too traumatic to talk about yet. Mostly, she just wanted to talk to the others first, get a story straight for Lois as well as for Jimmy. But she accepted Lois' efforts to stuff her full of chocolate and cheer her up. It hadn't been a fun vacay, after all. 

She supposed Clark had been through worse this month, forced into physical labor in a strange country, nearly dying before one John Jones spirited him away and flew him straight to the sun. 

And she'd tried so hard to heal him, laid her hands on him and waited for that pain to leave him and enter her. But nothing. And google didn't exactly have the answers. 

Regardless, Clark was back to normal now. And she was... She didn't even know. That was what had her on her computer after Lois dropped into blissful sleep on the couch. One of the perks of freedom was the internet, after all. But it wasn't the joyful reunion she'd anticipated. More a time of dawning horror as she clicked page after page. She'd found herself absorbing everything she read, understanding medical terms she couldn't remember even reading before, retaining every word and picture. Just like at Black Creek. 

She was different now. 

Of course, she'd been different before, but now there was something else. She had her first inkling the first day she'd been taken from her cell for testing, testing that seemed routine until the technicians around her started whispering. 

Honestly, she didn't know if that was unusual and, having never undergone these tests before, she hadn't known if her responses were something special. But the reaction had raised her hackles at the time. Was she so different? She didn't get to ask any of the others. She was taken from general population from that moment on. 

She only saw one other person for the next four weeks and two days -- Ray. She called him Ray and he called her Chloe. They spent every day together, like pals, except for how one pal liked to stick electrodes on the other and threaten her freedom whenever she pointed out their little games were no fun. 

She wondered how she didn't realize this wasn't the government from day one, if she was such a damned genius now. She hadn't caught on that the facility was definitely outside Uncle Sam's umbrella until she realized one of the phone numbers she was being forced to decode for them was Oliver's. Then there had been a certain satisfaction in clobbering Ray with his own tablet -- short lived as she'd been dragged back pretty damned quickly and faced with Lex's smarmy number two. 

That was the voice she heard that morning she woke up in the suite. Regan Matthews. She hadn't seen him as much as Lex's other cronies. His meteoric rise to henchman had come a bit after her time with Lex. She was kind of glad the pleasure had been delayed as he proceeded to taunt her and force her to hand them Oliver Queen by injecting her with... with her own mother's spinal fluid. 

God, it hurt. She knew now that Lex had gone to an icy, watery grave the night she was taken. But she couldn't say that this would have happened any differently had he been there. He'd been the one to bleed her mother's spinal fluid, after all. But... he'd done that before he'd touched her, before he'd claimed to love her. 

But didn't he? In his own twisted way? She remembered where she'd been first, before the cell. The strangely luxurious suite housed in a prison. One guess as to who was usually tucked away there. Then Lex's smarmy manservant showed up saying the plans have been changed. 

Still, did that change how she should feel now? 

Whatever Lex had planned, he still took her away, let her believe the government had caught her, had her dragged off when she'd told him it was the last thing she wanted. What was his plan? To keep her like some kind of pet freak? Whatever it was, that wasn't love. If he'd loved her, he would have respected her wishes. 

She didn't think she'd have that problem with Jimmy. She supposed that was why she'd said yes. She twisted the plastic ring on her finger. Love... What was it, really? Was it passion and want? Intense feelings against her own better judgment? Maybe that wasn't love. Maybe real love was soft and steady and dependable. Maybe it grew from the kind of relationship that you knew could be good for you if you just let it. 

"All that time in the cell made me realize that what I wanted in the past kept me from seeing what I have right now," she'd told Jimmy, saying yes to life with him. "And that's you. You're perfect." 

And it wasn't as if he'd changed. He was still the same -- sweet and boyish and probably good for her. She just couldn't see it past the presence that was Lex, even when he wasn't near. Maybe Jimmy wasn't all-encompassing passion. But look where that had landed her. Jimmy was perfect. Jimmy was the kind of boy... No. He was a man and she'd endeavor to see him that way from now on. He was the kind of man a girl settled down with if she knew what was good for her. She'd stop over-thinking it. 

Though she had a feeling not over-thinking would be a real problem these days. Maybe that was why she'd ended up in room 23 at The Paradise Motel. She didn't even want to know what was going on in her head. 

Checking a month of voice mails had been something she could do quietly and at a more human speed. The message that brought her here had been a week old. 

"Hi, this is Janice at The Paradise Motel. We have your contact info on a month-long rental. Your paid period will be expiring in seven days. If you'd like to extend it, please come by with payment or call with a valid credit to do so. If not, we'd like to invite you to collect any personal items before that time is up. Thank you." 

She'd made it there just before midnight, just in time. Somehow, that made her feel she was meant to be here, meant to see this room one last time. She hadn't been able to say goodbye to Lex. 

You know, at some point, you'll have to decide if you want to be right or happy. Or maybe you've already decided. That had been the last thing she said to him. 

As for the last thing she heard him say... Smug's never been a good look for you, Sullivan. I'm not seeing a life of bliss for you, either. 

Such a petty exchange. Such a throwback to their years of sniping at each other. She wished it had been something prettier. She'd spoken to Clark by now, but she'd been afraid to ask what Lex's last words were. It wasn't just the fact that she really should be focused on Clark with his near-death. It was the fear of Lex disappointing her. 

In the end, Clark ended up volunteering the words. "He held me. He said he loved me like a brother, but that it had to end that way. He said he was sorry. Chloe, I... I hate what he became, but I... I loved him, too." 

So did I, she'd thought but didn't say, covering her mouth to hide her choking sobs. And she did. It was wonderful and terrible and bad for her in every way. Still, she'd loved him. At the moment, she couldn't find it in her to regret it. In a way, she was glad that someone loved him before he was gone. 

And Lex was gone. There was no other possibility. In about thirty seconds, something that still chilled her to the bones, she'd learned that the lowest documented body temperature from which anyone had recovered from hypothermia was thirteen degrees celsius... in Sweden. The Arctic waters came in at zero, even in summer. 

She ran her hands over the soft down comforter, Lex's own addition to the room as his ass was too spoiled for starched linens. She nearly laughed... until she started crying again. She wondered why he'd paid for this room every month, even up to just before he left. Had he hoped they would come back here? 

There was a soft knock on the door. 

She swiped at her eyes and turned to find the woman, Janice she thought, smiling rather sadly from the doorway. Maybe she'd seen something like this before. This place let people rent by the month, after all. How many appointment affairs had these rooms seen? She supposed they never ended well. 

"If you need a little more time, Sweetheart, I can..." 

"No," Chloe broke in, standing and taking a deep, watery breath. "I... There's really nothing I need here." 

Yet she found herself moving to the chair, picking up a soft, light purple button-down shirt, folded on the seat. Two buttons were missing. Her work, surely. 

A strange feeling moved over her as she caught his scent. She wondered if she was in for another fit of crying. Yet she didn't feel that ache behind her eyes. She felt strangely... comforted. 

She folded the shirt again. She supposed she didn't need it. But she found herself stuffing it into her bag as she passed the woman, struggling to smile. 

"I'm all done here," she said softly. 

***************** 

It was done. After a month of sickening boat trips and fleabag motels, one bed away from the human wasteland that was Otis Bergman as he snored the damned night away, it would be over. He'd still pay him well. Lex had always believed in rewarding loyalty, especially when it was hard to find good help on a limited budget. Hell, Otis had been technically working on speculation. He'd paid their way this far on Lex's promises. And Lex would make good on those promises now. They were in Georgetown now. As this was the last fleabag motel, it was only fitting it was the worst of them, dank and mildewy with peeling wallpaper. The only thing he could give it was that it had a coffee maker. 

He went about making it mechanically, not that he'd drink it. It was only Otis who was stupid enough to drink the water here. Still, he stared at it for a moment. Those stupid miniature coffee makers seemed to have that effect on him. They made him think of her. He supposed they always would. She was the one who'd showed him how, speaking obnoxiously slowly with a condescending smirk he still saw so clearly, still wanted to kiss right off her.This is how real people live, Lex, she'd said that weekend, that weekend that, though he'd not known it at the time, had turned out to be the best he'd ever have. He'd long accepted that she'd always be there, always the voice in his head. He wondered if she'd be impressed at how effortlessly he could make coffee now. Obviously not, considering he'd destroyed her best friend. 

He grabbed Otis' piece of shit laptop and stepped outside, trying to ignore the memory of his supposed death as it assaulted him again. He'd done what he had to. He'd intended on paying for it with his life. The fact that he hadn't was something he couldn't help. But still... Even after he got the money, what kind of life was this? What good would that tropical island be when he was alone? Without the quest, there was only her -- the only thing he needed now and the one thing he'd never have. Still, after a month in squalor, his wants were selfishly eclipsing his needs. He wanted soft beds and good food and the fucking internet... 

He slapped the side of the laptop as it slowly powered on, knowing it didn't help, but feeling some small satisfaction in just hitting something. This shit hole boasted free wireless, but only delivered it in choppy bursts if you marched back and forth outside the room. Still, he didn't need much. Just a glimpse of a full account and maybe... maybe just a glimpse into the feed. He'd only seen the world through Tess Mercer's eyes a mere handful of times in this month. But it had been almost enough. 

Enough to see Lana Lang alive and well, though she'd escaped from Tess. He didn't much care about that. He was magnanimous enough to be glad she was free from what he was sure was The Traveler's infection. He'd seen a Daily Planet headline claiming Regan, Fucking Regan, was missing. He couldn't be too bothered about that, either. He knew what happened now. Not in exact detail, but he knew where Chloe was kept at Black Creek. And it wasn't under his orders. 

That was another thing that made him positive he could never touch her again. He'd never be anything more to her than a locked door. 

The door opened behind him and he stepped quickly away as Otis barreled out. "Damn it, Otis..." 

"Oh, hey. Sorry, Mr. Lachlan. Just wanted to thank you for making coffee. Real nice of ya. So how about our money, huh?" 

"Soon," Lex said, rolling his eyes at Otis' presumption, as if they were some kind of team. He'd be dropping his services as soon as... His eyes flew to his second tab. He always had Mercer's feed open, but it barely ever came through. He rather hoped she wasn't bathing. He'd caught that once or twice and quickly shut it off. Tess was a beautiful woman, but something about the sight of her left him disturbed. He wanted to see Chloe. He saw the files through Mercer. He knew her status. But he had to see her face. Just once more. Just to know for sure... 

But Chloe wasn't what he saw on that feed. He saw Clark. He saw Clark looming above him... or Tess. Heard sirens and saw smoke behind him. 

"Guess this must be my stop," he heard Tess say. And Clark. He smiled. 

"He's alive," Lex breathed. 

"Who's alive?" Otis asked, almost disinterestedly. "Hey, this is great coffee, Mr. Lachlan. I'm not even kidding." Lex found himself stiffening as Otis threw a rather beefy arm over his shoulder. "Aw, heck. I'll just say it. I'm gonna miss you." 

Lex shook him off, waiting for another glimpse, but Clark was gone, replaced by paramedics and... 

"So what do we do after we get the money, huh? You know, they got some sweet resorts here. Or maybe somewhere else in the Caribbean. I just bet..." 

"We're not staying here," Lex said, realizing he'd keep Otis around after all. He'd need some help. He had a real mess to clean up over there. It wouldn't do to be seen. "We're going to Metropolis," he said calmly, switching over to his newly replenished account. "And call me Mr. Luthor." 

Continued in... Out of the Depths -- right this way