For Anatoly

[capable_of]

Totally forgetting what he'd been heading to the Compound for, Lex could only think to return to the hut after assuring Kon that he was fine. Or at least, outwardly he made it look like he was fine so the teenager would leave him alone so he could fall apart in peace. Even knowing it was an island trick, he couldn't get the thought of Clark dead in his grieving mother's arms with his blood on Lex's own hands.

He walked into the hut and didn't even look to see if Anatoly was there or not before sending everything on the dresser and center table to the floor with a sweep of his arms and a frustrated cry. He leaned against the now clear dresser, breathing heavily as he started to shake with fear and frustration from being unable to shake said fear.

Comments

[chesspolitik]

"We are wasting time here," Molokov said, sounding very much annoyed. "Just shoot him and be done with it. This American sentimentality of yours is all very touching but it gets us nowhere."

Anatoly held his breath, his hand on Lex's waist and ready to pull him down should the bullets start flying. He's managed to annoy Molokov and surely his preemptive tone would annoy Lionel in turn...

[capable-of.livejournal.com]

Lionel raised an eyebrow as he looked at Molokov with mild annoyance. "I don't see you shooting either. Perhaps I want to saver the experience. After all, I put a lot of work into the boy. I should get to enjoy his end." But of course, a Luthor didn't like being questioned so Lionel pulled the trigger, shooting Lex in what what would have been the stomach, except Lex twisted towards Anatoly to make sure he was protected and instead got it in the side.

But even though it didn't hit anything vital, it hurt like a fucking bitch and Lex cried out, only remaining standing because Anatoly was right behind him. But despite the pain, he couldn't resist a taunt through clenched teeth as he cradled his side. "That's the best you got dad?"

[chesspolitik]

The shot was fired and the only thing Anatoly could feel was pure, unadulterated rage. He was tired of this - tired of being frightened and manipulated by these men and the island. Lex had gotten hurt again by coming to his defense and this was going to end now.

Heedless of his own safety, he darted around Lex to grab one of the chairs by the chess board and threw it at Molokov and Lionel as hard as he could.

"Get out," he said as he picked up the other chair, completely unaware he'd slipped into Russian in his fury. "I have had enough of the both of you."

[capable-of.livejournal.com]

Molokov and Lionel, being the self preservationists that they were, split as they dodged the thrown chair, leaving the door open. Anatoly was too angry to see it but despite the pain in his side, Lex hadn't taken his eyes off his father.

"Anatoly!" He shouted to get the Russian's attention before grabbing his arm with both hands to get him to drop the chair. Then he hauled Anatoly behind him and through the door, out into the sunlight.

[chesspolitik]

Anatoly raced out of the hut, not daring to look back until they had cleared the immediate area. When he did so, he was shocked to discover that Molokov and Lionel had disappeared so completely as if they had never been.

He turned to remark on this to Lex and found that his injury too was wiped away. They had been caught in one of the clouds, then and it all had been a nightmare.

He slowly sank to the ground, putting his head in his hands, feeling very much overwhelmed by everything that had just happened.

[capable-of.livejournal.com]

It took Lex a moment to realize the pain in his side was gone and a sick feeling started in the pit of his stomach as he looked back and saw not Molokov and Lionel in the door but a cloud hovering over their hut. A very familiar cloud.

"FUCK!" Lex said out loud as he took a few deep breathes to settle his homicidal urges towards the island. As it was, he kicked at the sand, sending it spraying towards the ocean.

When he was calmed down a bit, he sat down next to Anatoly and wrapped his arms around the Russian's shoulders, resting his head against the curls, just holding him.