Chapter Text
GRACE
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
Addy licks the corner of her ice cream cone as we walk down the street together, back towards the group home.
“Somewhere cold,” she tells me. “Where it snows most of the year. The mountains in Canada maybe. Or somewhere in Scandinavia. What about you?”
I catch a bead of ice cream running down my cone with my tongue. “I used to want to go to the beach desperately. I’ve never seen the ocean before, so I’d love to go to Hawaii or something.”
“Never?” Addy asks, and I shake my head. “My parents took me to California when I was little once, and we went swimming in the waves.” She looks faraway now, lost in some memory.
“Addy,” I say quietly, just as we reach the large gates leading to the group home. “Can I ask…what happened to your parents?”
The unspoken rule in the foster system is that you don’t ask what happened to the other kids’ parents. It’s always sad and personal, a touchy topic for most. But I think Addy is actually becoming my friend—maybe the first girl friend I’ve had that’s all my own and not Clark’s by default—so I want to know her.
She doesn’t meet my eyes, studying her ice cream intently. “They were murdered,” she eventually says, voice quiet. “I was little.” She shrugs. “Whatever, it’s over now.”
Murdered? God, that’s so horrible. My eyes trace the scar on her face, and I wonder how she got it.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggest, and we punch in the code for the gate, then head into the house. Mrs. Miriam is in the kitchen chopping up vegetables, but comes out when she sees us.
“Grace, your friend, Mr. Luthor, called. He said you have a court date tomorrow. He’s going to pick you up at nine AM. I’ve already checked it with your social worker; she’ll be there too, of course.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “Thank you for letting me know.”
It’s been nearly a week since I saw Lex, and everyday I cling to the hope he gave me when he visited. I’ll be back in Smallville, surrounded by those I love, soon enough.
It’s hard to sleep that night. My statement for the judge is written and ready, but I keep going over it in my mind, trying to make myself sound as grown up as I can.
The next morning, Addy lends me a black skirt and I pull on a white blouse I own, tucking it in. I slick my hair back into a bun, hoping it makes me look more mature.
“Good luck,” Addy tells me, though her smile is tinged with sadness. “You’ll be perfect.”
“Thanks, Addy.” I give her a hug, squeezing her tight.
“Hopefully my next roommate doesn’t have night terrors,” she mocks as she pulls back, and I laugh.
Lex arrives at nine on the dot. Jessica and Rory both try to say hello to him, but he only acknowledges them with a nod.
“Ready?” he asks me.
“You have no idea.”
Climbing into his sports car and peeling away from that house feels better than I can even describe, but the nerves hit me again once we walk into the courthouse.
Clarissa is waiting for us there. “This is just ridiculous, Grace. Truly. Dragging me into court for some ridiculous emancipation—”
“You can stop talking now,” Lex cuts in. My eyes dart to him, horror taking over my face.
“Lex,” I hiss. We really need Clarissa on our side for this petition to pass.
But he doesn’t even look at me. His black suit is pristine, his tie knotted perfectly at the base of his throat, and his gaze is completely locked down, frigid in its apathy. “Your utter incompetence when it comes to Grace’s wellbeing hasn’t gone unnoticed and won’t continue to go unchecked. I’ve put in a complaint to your superior; turns out I went to Princeton with him. You’ve been replaced as Grace’s social worker, so your presence is no longer needed. But thanks for showing up.”
Clarissa’s mouth hangs open, her face one of pure shock.
“Let’s go, Grace,” Lex says, a hand on my back. He steers me past Clarissa, further into the courthouse.
“What—?” I splutter.
“She hasn’t done her job adequately for years, Grace,” he tells me. “If she’s failed you so spectacularly, who knows how many other vulnerable children she’s let down.”
Lex is right. If Clarissa had even once believed me, then Anora would still be alive right now. I have been so busy blaming myself for Anora’s death—and certainly part of that blame will always rest on my shoulders—that I forgot Clarissa failed her too.
“This is your new social worker. Vera Claire,” Lex introduces. Vera is an older woman, with graying hair and smile lines around her eyes. She holds out a hand to me.
“Grace,” she says with a warm smile. “Pleasure to meet you, my girl.”
Vera and I chat whilst we head toward the courtroom. Once we’re in there, Lex’s lawyers take over, petitioning the judge to give me independence.
“Miss Cooper,” the judge eventually says. “I believe you’ve prepared a statement?”
“Uh yes.” I am trembling and nervous as I step up to the podium, a thin microphone at my lips. God I hate public speaking. I smooth out my crinkled speech, my eyes darting to Lex for strength. He gives me a reassuring nod and his confidence bronzes me. I begin to read. “Your Honor, I—I’m petitioning for emancipation because I believe I am capable of supporting myself and making responsible decisions about my future. I am seventeen years old and have been in the foster care system for most of my life. While I am grateful for the care I have received, I am ready to take control of my own life and become independent. I currently attend Smallville High, where I maintain steady grades. While I may not be at the top of my class, I work hard and am committed to my education. For the past few years, I have lived on a farm where I was responsible for daily chores such as feeding and caring for animals, maintaining property, and managing my time efficiently. I—“ My voice dies in my throat as I stare down at the piece of paper.
I can feel Lex go rigid across the courtroom, can feel his lawyers ready to jump in.
Folding up my speech, I look at the judge and take in a deep, halting breath.
“I can list out a dozen responsibilities that I’ve had, Your Honor. I can try to prove to you that I’m ready to take this next step into adulthood, but…the truth is that I haven’t been a child in a long, long time. I didn’t get to be.” My voice cracks, but I power on.
“When I was five, I found my mother passed out on the bathroom floor. She’d overdosed on pills. I managed to drag her into the shower, stuck my fingers down her throat, and made her vomit them up. I looked after her for the next three days till she was better, feeding her plain bread because that was all I could reach from the counter. Throughout my entire childhood, I’ve regularly been responsible for getting myself to and from school, for making my own lunch and dinner, for doing homework unprompted. Until I went to the Kents…I never had real parents.” My eyes burn but I cannot cry.
Nothing screams incompetence like balling your eyes out in court.
“I learnt a lot from a childhood of neglect and abuse. I learnt to be self-sufficient and how to survive. But the Kents taught me all the things that were missing: compassion and love and the importance of a strong moral compass. Those are things I will carry with me, always. Even when I can’t be with them, in their home. I make no claim to know everything, Your Honor. But whether it’s in a year or tomorrow, I’m going to be independent soon enough. I am just lucky enough to not be alone now, like I was when I was young.” I look back at Lex to find he is staring at me so intensely it would make me shrink if I knew him any less.
“I have a home in Smallville, a school I want to graduate from, friends and family who care about me…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I want to go home, Your Honor. Becoming emancipated will allow me to do that…Thank you.”
My cheeks burn as I rush to take my seat. I keep my head low for the rest of the proceeding.
The silhouette of the mansion is a welcome sight. I take in the straight lines of the castle-like structure, the sloping green hill. Sunset casts a golden glow over everything.
Lex’s car comes to a stop and I’m already flinging open the door, throwing myself out. I slip through the fence and run toward the stables as fast as I can.
Apollo is waiting for me in his stall. He whinnies when he sees me, coming up to the stable door.
“Hi, hi.” I am crying, but out here, with no one to see, I let the tears flow freely. I hug Apollo and kiss his face, stroking him. “I missed you, boy. Are you ok?” I run my fingers through his mane, touch his coat and feed him a handful of oats from the bucket outside his stall. “You weren’t lonely, were you?” I coo to him.
“Don’t worry, he was plenty spoiled while you were gone.”
Lex stands at the end of the stable block, hands in the pockets of his trousers, sunlight outlining him from behind.
“I’m glad.” I smile, wiping my cheeks. “I missed him.” I missed you.
Lex slowly walks closer. “He missed you too. Desperately.” His voice is quiet and low. He reaches out to pat Apollo as well and the gelding huffs happily under all the attention. “You ok?” I like the way Lex asks without looking at me; it takes the pressure off, doesn’t make me feel suffocated, but still cared for.
“I’m ok,” I assure him. “I just…want to get settled in.”
He nods. “Let’s go inside.”
After giving Apollo a final kiss, I follow Lex back toward the mansion. “You can have any room you want,” he tells me as we go through the back door and into the large dining room, then through the kitchen.
“I really don’t mind,” I tell him, staring around as though I’m seeing the mansion for the first time. It just feels different now because…well, it’s my home. For awhile, at least. I have learnt that nothing is permanent, but Lex at least feels stable.
We make it to the bottom of the staircase when suddenly a red blur flies up the corridor.
“Gracie!”
I don’t even have time to process what’s happening when I’m lifted from the ground and into a familiar chest.
“Clark,” I breathe, grinning into his red jacket, holding him tightly. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”
His hold is strong enough to hurt, but I don’t mind right now.
“I was so worried.” When he pulls back his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “I tried to contact you but…” He shakes his head.
“It’s ok.” I touch his cheek, smiling up at him. With how big and powerful he is, it is so easy to forget that Clark is my younger brother. But right now he is wide-eyed and hurting, and I’m reminded that sometimes I need to be the big sister.
“I wanted you to come home,” he says.
“I know, I wanted that too. Lex’s lawyers persuaded the judge that a restraining order for Jonathan and Martha was completely unnecessary. But I’m still not really supposed to go to the farm,” I explain. Despite the abuse allegations not turning up any real evidence, I think bitterly. “But when school starts, I’ll be with you everyday, and we can hang out until then. I know it’s not the same, but I’m still here. And no matter what…you’ll always be my brother.” I wait with bated breath for him to reply.
“Of course I will,” he says, and relief spirals through me.
He asks me a few questions about the group home and what court was like. We end up agreeing to meet up tomorrow in town.
He hugs me once more before turning to leave. “And Clark, tell your parents…” I trail off, trying to find the right words to encapsulate everything I want to say to Martha and Jonathan Kent. Unfortunately, I’m not sure the right words exist. “Just tell them thank you,” I end up deciding.
Once Clark has gone, Lex takes me upstairs and left down the hallway, into a giant bedroom. My bags rest at the foot of the bed, brought in by one of his workers.
“Where’s your room?” I ask.
“Back down the hall, all the way at the end,” he replies.
I look at him sharply, feeling a little odd. Maybe even hurt. “We’re really at opposite sides of the house?”
He stares at me evenly, but there is some kind of hitch in his expression, only noticeable because I have spent so much time studying his face.
“I told you, Grace: you can have any room you want.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, chewing it for a moment. I don’t want to suffocate Lex—I am already aware of my extreme imposition—but I also don’t want us to be sequestered at different ends of the house like we’re trying to avoid each other. I’ll feel secluded.
Snatching up my bags, I turn and march back down the hallway, Lex trailing behind me. I nudge open his bedroom door with my foot and peek inside, taking in the four-poster bed, the blood-red silk sheets and large, framed artworks adorning the walls.
When I glance over my shoulder, he’s watching me, hands in his pockets, expression indulgent.
I step back and go into the bedroom right next door, popping my things down. This one is slightly more modern than the others, with white bedside tables, a standing rack and a beautiful ensuite. Granite countertops, the largest shower known to man and a standing, clawfoot tub.
“Well…” I look around, feeling short of breath for some reason. “I mean, look, it’s no group home but it’s not too shabby.”
I laugh, and he smiles.
Placing my bag on the mattress, I stare at the big, wooden bedhead. It has intricate carvings over the stained wood.
The ceilings are high, and this is probably six times the size of my room at the Kent Farm. Still, a part of me pangs with yearning for that farmhouse.
“I might ask Clark to bring some of my stuff over,” I say, turning back to Lex.
He nods. “If you want anything, just let me know. I’ll have it set up for you.”
“Thanks.”
With a small smile, he turns to leave, but I step forward. “Lex.”
He stops.
“I want you to know that I…I won’t be any trouble, I promise. What I mean is you don’t need to change your life to suit me. You just do your thing and…I’ll do mine.” I swallow, my throat feeling dry. “I don’t want to ruin your life.”
When he looks at me, there is something wistful yet intense in his expression, something I can’t quite identify. “You could never ruin my life, Grace,” he says, then walks away with his head low.
I sleep fitfully my first night in the mansion. The old house creaks with the wind, and my room is so big that I keep thinking I see moving shadows in every corner. Finally, around sunrise, I fall deeply asleep. And I sleep and sleep.
The past few weeks have utterly exhausted me.
It’s around midday when I finally emerge from my room like a hibernating bear exiting a cave, still wearing my pyjamas. I find Lex at his desk downstairs, typing away on his laptop. He tilts the screen down as soon as I come in like he owes me his undivided attention. I sink down in the chair across from him.
“How’d you sleep?”
I make a noise, shrugging. Terrible is the real answer.
“You’ll get used to it, I promise.”
“It’s always hard the first night in a new place,” I say. “Did you move around much as a kid?”
“No, but also yes. My family has always owned a lot of properties, so even though our primary residence in Metropolis always stayed the same, we were always in new places.”
“Other properties?”
“Sure. This place, for instance.” He casts his eyes around the cavernous space. “We’d come here occasionally when I was a kid. My father had an apartment in New York; that one he usually visited alone. A beach house on the California coast. Then the chateau in France, and the estate in England.”
“Jesus.”
“Did I forget to mention the townhouse in Metropolis where my father housed various mistresses over the years?”
“Jesus!”
The corner of his mouth pulls up. “My favorite though…” he says as he stands and comes around the desk. He leans back against it, his smirk quickly transforming into a soft smile. “Was a ranch we owned in Montana. My mother would take me there when I was younger in the Summer. It’d be just me, her and the ranch hands for weeks at a time.” He is lost in memories now, gone somewhere I can never follow. “Some of the happiest parts of my childhood were spent on that ranch.”
“Why’d you love it so much?” I whisper, not wanting to break him out of this reverie.
“When I was there, I felt…normal. I felt like I had a true home, free of anger or guilt or pain. But I don’t think it was the place; it was really that my mother felt free there. I just…fed off her emotions.”
“Lex…” I pull my knees up, resting my chin on them. “Why didn’t your mom leave your father?” It’s something I’ve wondered for a while now.
His jaw clenches, and I worry that I’ve pushed too far. But he does eventually answer, “You know I used to ask myself the same thing. I couldn’t understand it when I was a kid. But I do now. I get how trapped she felt with him, how she felt she couldn’t get out from beneath his control. My father can be very…” He trails off, thinking.
“What?”
“Persuasive,” is what he ends up saying, though I don’t think that’s exactly the word he intended to use. I have been on the receiving end of vitriol and abuse before, and something about Lex tells me he has too. I know his father is the perpetrator, even if Lex has never outright said that. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
He urges me up from the chair and keeps his hand on my back as he leads me through the winding corridors and hallways. Finally, we come to a large kitchen. There’s a man dressed in a white chef’s uniform and an older woman both hard at work cooking.
“Rosa,” he says, smiling at her fondly. She’s a bit shorter than me and plump, with warm eyes like melted chocolate. “This is Grace. She’s going to be staying with us from now on. Grace, Rosa can help you with anything you need. Food, bedding, laundry. She’s been on my staff for years now.”
“Welcome, Grace. We’re happy to have you here,” Rosa says with a warm smile, taking my hand in hers. “Tell me what foods you like.”
“Oh…uh. I don’t know. I’m not that picky so…anything?” I laugh awkwardly.
Lex rubs his hand once up and down my spine. “You’re in good hands.” He turns and leaves.
“Wait, have you eaten?” I call after him but get no response.
“He had a protein shake this morning,” Rosa tells me.
“Pretty sure that’s not proper food,” I mutter.
“I’ve been telling him that for years. Maybe you’ll finally talk some sense into him. Now, how does pancakes sound?”
My heart skips a beat. “Any chance you can add in some choc chips?”
She grins.
The secret library—hidden in the walls of the mansion—gets a little drafty, even in Summer. I have the fireplace crackling as I read, curled up in one of the oversized, velvet armchairs when Lex finds me. He slides the wall back into place, effectively sealing us off from the outside world.
It’s like my own little universe in here.
“Hi,” I say with a smile, my face poking over my novel.
“Good book?”
“Not sure yet, I’m only a few chapters in. It’s one I’ve never heard of before, found it on the bottom shelf.”
He hums as he comes closer. “Haven’t read it,” he notes, studying the cover.
“Have you finished work?” It’s got to be five or six o’clock by now.
The edge of his mouth tugs up. “I usually work past midnight.”
My lip curls in disgust. “Boo.”
He smiles, but it’s a little solemn, then crouches in front of me. “I got you something.”
“Really?”
I sit up more, placing my book on the side table. Lex reaches into his pocket and produces a beautiful necklace. It has a thin, silver chain and a teardrop, midnight blue pendant that gleams.
I gasp. “It’s just like my other necklace!”
He nods, his smile widening, becoming more genuine at my reaction. “Except this one won’t break or fall off. It’s not from a cheap county fair.”
“It was a farmer’s market, and I loved that necklace!”
His voice is quiet when he says, “I know.” The swirling blue of his eyes is almost the same shade as the jewel. “Can I?”
I nod, turning and gathering my hair up. He rises and lifts it over my head, the gemstone settling against my chest.
His knuckles brush the back of my neck as he does up the clasp up, causing a shiver to run down my spine. I reach up to touch the necklace, feeling its weight. He takes my hair from me and lays it back down, his fingers brushing through the strands to flatten them.
“Thank you, Lex,” I whisper as I turn to face him. “I love it. Is it a real sapphire?”
He nods and backs up to sit on the edge of the opposing armchair. “You know my mom used to wear a necklace just like that—an emerald though. She’d never tell me where she got it; I always assumed it was from my father. Found out later on that it’d been given to her by an old flame she dated in college.” The tiny smirk that lights up Lex’s mouth is a little sadistic. “It killed my father that she wore it everyday.”
I huff out a laugh. “So is this your way of inspiring jealousy in my future boyfriends?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. If there is one topic Lex and I avoid like the plague, it’s anything related to our dating lives. Cringing internally—especially at the ensuing, heavy silence—I mutter, “Sorry.”
He looks down at his hands as he rubs them together. “Don’t be. Nothing to apologize for.”
Oh god, can the ground swallow me up and never spit me out?
“I have a meeting with a distributor, but Rosa’s making you something for dinner. Should be ready soon,” he tells me and stands.
I can’t meet his gaze. “Ok. Thank you again for the necklace.”
“You’re welcome.” His hand touches my shoulder as he walks away.
“Come and eat,” I tell Lex the next morning. He’s already at his computer working.
“I’ve got a meeting in an hour with—“
“Lex, you have to eat something so you might as well do it with me…Please?”
He looks up from his computer screen, and I am thoroughly obsessed with the way his expression softens as soon as his gaze lands on me. Nobody has ever looked at me like I’m…special before. “Ok,” he agrees, voice warm.
There are two Lex Luthors, I decide as we sit at the dining table and eat bacon and eggs. The first Lex is a business tycoon, clever and sly as a fox, ready to outwit his father or take on the world at any given moment. And then there is the Lex that belongs to just me—and Clark, on occasion. Our Lex is not a ruthless businessman; he is kind and compassionate and ready to drop everything to help us. He is trying always to be better, to prove himself as more than the Luthor name. That’s the Lex that sits across from me now.
“You know, I’ve been thinking: we should have the Kents over for dinner sometime. Give you a chance to catch up with them. We both know they’d love to see you,” Lex says.
“Mm.” I am noncommittal.
“I thought you’d be thrilled at the prospect,” he says. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I feel bad I suppose. I mean, they were accused of abuse because of me.”
His face hardens “That wasn’t your fault. It was the ER doctor that reported it.”
But I shake my head, pushing around my food with my fork. “She was just doing her job, doing what she thought was right. Can’t fault her for that, I guess.”
He takes a moment to gather his next words. “About that…I don’t suppose you care to explain where that bruising came from?”
And just like that, he switches from Lex to Luthor in a heartbeat.
I go still, gripping my fork a little too tight. “I told you: farm accident.”
“Farm accident,” he repeats. “Do I get a little more specificity with that or am I supposed to guess?”
“I tripped and fell from the loft.” I am already standing and starting to clear my plate to escape this conversation.
“Grace, that loft is twelve feet high and the ground is concrete. If you fell from it, you’d have a broken spine, not some bruising.”
I try to walk past him but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, keeping his hold loose. Though I can feel him looking up at me, I can’t meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed no more lies,” he says lowly.
Goddammit, he’s right. I hate lying to him so much.
Grimacing, I tell him, “Ok, I didn’t fall from the loft. But I promise it was a farm accident. And it’s not going to happen again so it really doesn’t matter.”
He stands up, close enough that I can smell his aftershave, his thumb rubbing against the skin of my wrist. “If it doesn’t matter, why can’t you tell me?”
My mouth opens, but I don’t have anything to say. How do I get around this without lying to him? Now that I’m living with him, it’s more important than ever that I try to maintain some truth between us.
I chew my lip before hesitantly admitting, “There was…a minor explosion.”
He blinks, studying me as though trying to figure out if I’m lying or cracking a joke. “An…explosion?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes narrow slightly before he puffs out a breath. “Well, I didn’t realize farms were such hotspots for terrorism.”
“It’s a very politically fraught time.”
“Come on, Grace. Be straight with me.”
I hate that I can’t be. If it were about me, I would tell him in a heartbeat, with no hesitation. But I made a promise to keep Clark’s secret, and that will never change.
“Lex, please. Let this one go.” I am setting him up for failure; this is an impossible task for him. His mind—as brilliant and beautiful as it is—doesn’t allow him to just let things go.
But he seems at least willing to try for me. “Alright,” he murmurs. “For now.”
For now will just have to be good enough. But I don’t know how long he’ll continue to accept the lies and half-truths before it all blows up in our faces.