Not Silent
by Celli Lane

Feedback: Please! Thank you. celli@fanfic101.com
Category: Drama.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through "Asylum."
Summary: They talk in their sleep.
Archiving: Ask and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: Smallville and its residents belong to Millar Gough Ink, Warner Brothers, DC Comics, and other assorted people with lawyers. Bummer.

Notes: Thanks to Karen and Caro for the betas. *smooch*

O my God, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent.
--Psalm 22

The servants say Lex talks in his sleep.

Only a few remain from before, the few that saw only what Lionel intended them to. (The rest have pay raises and comfortable jobs at Luthor properties around the world. Blackmail and exile in one.) But those who remain report their concerns.

He's fine in the daytime, they tell him. Getting back to work, driving as fast as usual, boxing in the gym downstairs. Only the occasional blank look on his face while reading the newspaper marks his memory loss, and even those come less and less as he catches up on world events.

He drinks less bottled water, too, but Lionel just smiles at that and orders more lemonade prepared. (Hand-squeezed, from the greenhouse on the property. You need more vitamin C, son, after so long...out of the sunlight.)

He talks in his sleep, though. Mumbles and grunts; words that are indistinguishable but still loud enough to be heard down the hall.

Lionel bans everyone from that wing while Lex is asleep. Give the boy his privacy. Anyone would have a troubled sleep after what he's suffered. Then, he oversees the installation of a hidden camera himself while Lex is working out.

Every morning, he reviews the tapes, watching his son twitch in the fetal position he's adopted since he came home. Listens over and over to the sounds, straining to discern their meaning.

Does Lex's sleeping mind know the secret Lionel most wants, or the one he's gone to every length but one to destroy?

He rewinds the tape and listens again.

***

Martha says Clark talks in his sleep.

It would be easy for Jonathan to believe that everything is fine. Clark goes to school, does his chores, hangs out with his friends. He spends time with Lex but won't discuss it, sees Lana but only in groups.

Martha thinks he's dealing fairly well. Jonathan secretly wonders how she could know, since Clark's conversations these days consist of more monosyllables than even a teenaged boy should be able to produce.

Yes. Fine. Thank you. Pass the salt? Good dinner, Mom. Sure, Dad.

But the look on Clark's face when he's avoiding talking about Lex is too calm, too blank. Jonathan knows his son. He knows Clark's sense of guilt.

He finally tries to force the conversation. Clark listens with a polite smile. You're right, Dad. Lex is happier this way. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt him. Again. I promise I'll leave Lionel alone.

Jonathan wants to trust that promise.

But Martha says Clark talks in his sleep, and the name he says isn't Lex or Lana.

Jonathan rests his head against Clark's door and listens again.


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