Title: A Semi-Precious Helix
Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Clark/Lex, Clark/OC (implied), Lex/OC (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Self-harm, implied underage, implied non-cons
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 15100
Archive: Fine, just let me know
Summary: You can buy anything you want on the streets of Metropolis for the right price.


Click for Full Size





helix : noun / plural helices
Etymology: Latin, from Greek; akin to Greek eilyein to roll, wrap
1: something spiral in form: as a: an ornamental volute b: a coil formed by winding wire around a uniform tube
2: the incurved rim of the external ear
3: a curve traced on a cylinder or cone by the rotation of a point crossing its right sections at a constant oblique angle; broadly : spiral

alpha helix : noun : the coiled structural arrangement of many proteins consisting of a single chain of amino acids stabilized by hydrogen bonds

double helix : noun : a helix or spiral consisting of two strands in the surface of a cylinder that coil around its axis; especially : the structural arrangement of DNA in space that consists of paired polynucleotide strands stabilized by cross-links between purine and pyrimidine bases

The Helix Nebula is a planetary nebula about 650 light-years from Earth in the constellation Aquarius. It is one of the closest planetary nebulae to Earth. The Helix is often referred to as the 'Eye of God' on the Internet.



* * * A Semi-Precious Helix * * *


You can buy anything you want on the streets of Metropolis for the right price.

If I learned one thing growing up, it was that people are invariably out for themselves. My father made sure to beat that bit of knowledge back into me whenever it looked as if I might forget. It didn't take me long to catch on after my mother died and I couldn't count on her protection, as limited as it had been. I've always believed that, after my brother Julian died, she took the easy way out and that her heart 'condition' had been nothing more than a euphemism for 'broken.'

Of course, losing both of them didn't affect my father very long. He was too caught up in schemes designed to restore the Luthor fortune to its former glory. They might have succeeded if he'd spent his evenings sober, but the habits he picked up when he lost it all were stronger than his will to survive. Investors turned away from him, banks closed their doors, and the only person willing to take a chance on Lionel Luthor ended up buying his soul.

And his only living son.

Me.

Morgan Edge always liked having exotic pets and I guess I fit the bill pretty well back then. There certainly weren't many other bald fourteen-year-olds around...at least, not who could take a substantial beating and fucking without showing the effects the next day. The fact that I also had a brain was simply a bonus. It didn't take Morgan long to let me out of his bedroom and into the front office where I could run numbers for him. There was something in the past between him and my father...something sordid...and he took delight in the fact that my father had sold the one thing that could have pulled the Luthor name out of the gutter. I was just glad that I no longer had to face the disgust that filled my father's eyes every time he looked at his deformed son.

It made it all too easy for me to stand over my father's grave and never shed a tear.

I ached and I healed and I learned and I used every scrap of information I could piece together to make myself indispensable to Morgan. The years passed and the name Lex Luthor came to mean more in Metropolis than Lionel Luthor's ever had, though admittedly it's at a different level of society. No debutante balls or charity functions fill my dance card. Instead, it's shouts and sirens and 'Yessir, Mr. Luthor' that form the backdrop to my days.

Morgan is the king of the streets and I'm the crown prince, and I like it that way.


. . .


He was walking out of an alley. It was dark, just after sundown, but he was still hard to miss. Tall, dark-haired, thin...too thin for my tastes...yet there was something about him that made me order Mercy to pull the car over. He walked past with his head down, never looking anywhere but at the sidewalk, and I found myself wanting to see the face hidden by the tangled curls. It wasn't until he'd walked a few yards further that I realized he was barefoot, the dirt on his feet so thick that it acted as a disguise. After that discovery, I looked closer. As he passed beneath a streetlight, it was easy to see the grime caked on his ripped clothing, and I realized his leanness owed nothing to fashion and everything to starvation.

He'd disappeared around the corner before I thought to ask Mercy if she knew anything about him, and he was nowhere in sight when she started the car to follow him at my direction. Feeling oddly disappointed, I told her to take me to the meeting and then start sending out the new Word for the month. I'd selected Opal to replace Sapphire and was already considering what to choose as its replacement. A text on mineralogy had proved quite useful after I'd exhausted the periodic table.


. . .


I understand the value of money and the price of loyalty. The first doesn't always guarantee the second. My father failed to remember that and it contributed to his downfall. His trusted vice-president staged a financial coup, and the ease with which he succeeded sometimes causes me to wonder if my father sustained more damage than I did that day in Smallville. The meteorites took my hair and changed my health for the better, but his razor-sharp mind had dulled and left him vulnerable.

Trust. It's a word that is almost meaningless in my world, yet there are a few who've earned it. Mercy owes her life to me and, in exchange, she keeps me safe. Toby, on the other hand, can be purchased with a steady supply of what he needs. Still, I'm willing to believe he would throw his lot in with me if he had to choose, simply because I have what he's looking for and he understands that. Others can be granted limited confidence, but I know that complete faith in my fellow man is an impossible dream.

I trust Morgan...to be untrustworthy. I have no illusions. If it came down to it, my life would be forfeit if he felt it would profit him in the long run. Any fondness he holds for me stems from what I can bring to him. It is an important fact for me to remember any time I handle a 'favor' for him.

My reputation is key. I've chosen to avoid certain aspects of Morgan's business, especially when it comes to retribution. I won't handle the body market, either. It hits too close to home for me. Morgan laughs at my squeamishness, but he's never forced me to pick it up. Nonetheless, I'm bound to it on the periphery, since it's an inevitable piece of the streets we own.

Mercy is aware of that, so I was surprised when she stopped the car at a street corner without a word. She had been out earlier with the Word, Jasper, and she'd never indicated that she encountered any problems. The flash and glitter clustered on the sidewalk has never been to my taste, so I waited for her to tell me what she had in mind. It wasn't until a dark shadow separated itself from the side of the building that I grasped the reason behind her action.

The body that had been merely thin before was positively skeletal. This time I could see his face and, despite its gauntness, there was a hint of something extraordinary beneath the dirt. Green eyes caught the light before his gaze dropped to the sidewalk and they were hidden once more. The others drew back as he advanced toward my car, pulling away as if he would contaminate them with an inadvertent touch. Knowing he wouldn't be able to see through the smoked glass, I nodded to Mercy and she lowered the window.

"Yeah?" His voice rasped as if his throat hurt and his eyes never tried to meet mine as he stood a few feet away.

"How much?"

His shrug was unexpected...and so was his reply. "Whatever."

The simple movement shifted his shirt enough to expose a livid bruise along his collarbone, and I began to understand. It made me sick. "I need a Word and a price."

Lank, greasy hair swung almost imperceptibly with his headshake. "Jasper. You do what you want and pay what you want."

"Get in the front seat." I mentally apologized to Mercy, but I was unwilling to let him join me in the back. She'd brought me there on her own initiative, and I trusted that she had a good reason, but I had my limits.

Without a word, he climbed in and closed the door with a quiet thud. Mercy closed the connecting window to isolate me in the rear, and I watched in quiet amusement as both front windows opened. Thumbing the intercom, I instructed Mercy to take us back to my penthouse and settled in for the ride.


Part 2