Couple(s): Chloe/Lex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me.

Spoilers for: nothing

Author's Note: This is set ten or eleven years after the last chapter.

Suffer, Little Children

******

Benjamin Raphael Lawrence was his name. He knew he was adopted, knew he'd been named by his adoptive parents, and he assumed that explained the emptiness he felt whenever he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His parents--Nicole and Terry Lawrence--were the only guardians he'd ever had; unless one counts the workers at the orphanage, but he'd been too young to remember them. The Lawrences were wonderful to him, treating him like the son they'd never had; though they didn't have much money and lived in a split-level on the outskirts of Kansas, they tried to provide him with whatever he needed--the typical adoptive couple who was unable to have their own children.

Even though he'd only known them, he didn't *feel* like a Lawrence; Benjamin--he refused to go by 'Ben'--took in his long curly blonde hair, piercing bluish eyes and square face, imagining himself as a prince. It was a childish fantasy, but it was *right*.

When he closed his eyes, he saw himself in a castle with servants and his parents; his real parents. They were a handsome couple: his mother wore long dresses or other elegant outfits, his father was a business man though he was more comfortable in jeans than suits. They smiled a lot, at him and each other. Though they had money, they weren't stuck-up; the town loved them.

Bracing his hands against the rusty sink in the Lawrences' single bathroom, Benjamin squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to extend the fantasy as long as he could; he couldn't face reality, even with parents he loved. That dream--that *life*--was for him.

He was determined to find it.

******

Lena had fallen in love.

This certainly didn't surprise Lex; his daughter had grown to be beautiful. When she came home for the summer--she'd gone to school in Metropolis--her boyfriend was with her. Her father wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

"Hello, Mister Luthor; I'm Roger. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." The man's grip was firm, his tone sincere, and he *did* look Lex straight in the eye. That was a plus.

"Hello, Roger. Lena's told me so much about you." He found himself checking out the guy who intended to be with his daughter; Roger was no taller than Lex--six foot, if that--and he seemed to be an artist/musician type: his long black hair, offbeat, paint-splattered wardrobe, and acoustic guitar more or less cemented that assumption.

The couple's eyes instantly followed his. Both students chuckled nervously. "Roger's a music student," Lena announced cheerfully, fingering her cropped red hair--something she did when apprehensive.

"Ah." What else could Lex say? 'You plan to support my daughter through medical school by being an artist?' wasn't exactly polite. (Besides, Lex himself was finding her education; on principle, however, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of his baby girl running off with a flighty artist.)

"Is John home?" Lena wondered, darting her head around as if to find her brother.

"Not yet; he's visiting your mother." Chloe's being in jail was no longer a touchy subject; John and Lena understood why she was there and why she did what she did in the first place. Lex had adjusted to the fact that he wouldn't touch her ever again, though he hadn't bothered finding someone else.

"How *is* Mom?"

Shrugging, Lex rocked on the heels of his stocking-clad feet. "As good as can be expected. She's not so lonely anymore."

"You miss her a lot, don't you?" Lena whispered, resting her hand on his shoulder. Roger watched this curiously.

"Of course I miss her," Lex muttered. It struck him that they were still standing in the foyer. "Um, why don't we take this to my office?"

"'kay." The trio walked silently through the familiar hallways; the two Luthors silently marveling about how empty the house was since John and Lena had left.

Martha continued to live at the Manor, though her failing health kept her confined to her suite most of the time. "I'm gettin' old, Lex," she remarked one afternoon when he'd come to sit with her--he always saw her at least twice a day. "Taking care of you guys is a full-time job."

He'd grinned and agreed. What neither said was that if Chloe had been around, things would have been easier.

******

Chloe hadn't seen her son for the better part of a year; he'd been too busy studying at Yale to come back to Kansas. It was summer, she knew, so she expected to see him more frequently. "You look great, John," she greeted him.

With a smile, he blushed. "Thanks, Mum."

"Fighting off the chicks with sticks yet?" she teased, noticing his model good looks and wavy blonde hair that ached to be run through with delicate fingers. "Excuse the unintentional rhyme, if you can."

This brought a full-fledged grin to his handsome face. "I missed you, Mum. Nah, the girls don't pay me much attention, and I don't have time for love right now."

Her blue eyes rolled in mock annoyance. "That's what summer's for, hon!"

"I suppose so." Pause. "Dad and Lena said they'd drop by later."

Chloe nodded, cleared her throat. "How's your sister, anyway?"

There was so much Chloe hadn't heard! "Uh, she's alright; her boyfriend came home with her."

A sad sigh escaped his mother's lips. "Have I failed you as a mother, John? First letting your sister get kidnapped, then letting you both get abused by Guy, then deserting you because I took my rage out on him, then missing every milestone in your lives....first kisses, dates, prom, graduation..." Trailing off, she gazed at him imploringly.

John felt his heart breaking. "Mom, don't say that! We fully understand why you did what you did; it was necessary. As for prom, I chose to avoid that archaic, superficial custom."

She smirked. *No doubt in anyone's mind that he's my son* "And Lena?"

"Prom queen. The girl's a bloody diva." It was his turn to roll his eyes, though he did it with actual annoyance.

Chuckling, Chloe brushed her long hair out of her eyes. "Well, yeah, I could've guessed she'd turn out that way. What do you and your father think of her boyfriend?"

Her son shrugged. "I haven't met him yet. Dad was a mess for two weeks, preparing for this meeting; the idea of Lena running off with some random college guy has him all worked up. I guess she's responsible enough, but I understand his concern."

She sensed a rant coming on. "Why? What's up with Lena?"

Raking his hands through his own hair, John groaned. "She's just so...stereotypically boy crazy! She had at least four boyfriends this year--those were all the ones I met on vacations, at least--and I know she did the breaking up most of the time. I guess I'm worried about her; she could get with the wrong guy and really screw things up, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, sweetie. Have you tried telling her that you're worried?"

"No; I'm too much of a wuss."

That made her grin. "No, you aren't, John. Luthors aren't wusses."

His head darted up, his eyes searching for some clue as to why she said that. "Mom, since when do you acknowledge being a Luthor? I thought you kinda shunned that when you and Dad married; you go by your maiden name, don't you?"

"I wasn't being serious. I only go by my maiden name at the *Ledger*, anyway." She was suddenly worried about him; he looked lost and depressed. She was used to his being quiet and shy, but the expression on his face alarmed her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

John frowned. "Nothing; I'm fine."

"Which is why," she began wryly, "you look so upset."

Two minutes. "Damnit," John swore. "Can we finish this tomorrow?"

"Of course. Take care, Johnny-boy; I love you." Her smile was sad, and he almost cried.

"I love you, too, Mom. See you tomorrow." Blowing her a kiss, he headed for the door.

******

Nicole Lawrence set down her fork and smiled warmly at her son. "Did you have a good day, Benjamin?" A woman in her late thirties, she was unconventionally beautiful: she had a squarish face with a tiny nose and full lips, jet black hair--naturally red--that she kept pulled back in a tight ponytail, and gray eyes that Benjamin always felt were judging him.

Shrugging, he turned back to his tough pot roast and mashed potatoes. "It was okay," he mumbled. He loved his parents, but they were never around! His father worked at the LuthorCorp plant in Smallville--Benjamin had vague ideas regarding where the town was--as a janitor; his mother cleaned houses in their neighborhood. She took Benjamin with her when he was younger, but then he began to get in the way, so she asked him to stay home.

He didn't mind at all; watching her work only reminded him how not well-off they were. "Did you do anything fun?" Terry spoke up, his deep brown eyes pleading with his son to say that he did. With his short, straight blond hair, firm face, and hard gaze he looked more like an accountant than a janitor. Still, Benjamin loved his parents, and they loved him back.

"I finished *A Tale of Two Cities*," he replied, forcing himself to smile. Despite being only ten years old, he was incredibly intelligent; he'd skipped first grade, and was even put in the 'advanced' second grade classes. Ever since then, all he'd done is read and study. He enjoyed doing work, especially since his parents didn't have the money to afford a computer.

"Well, good," Nicole said brightly. "Maybe we can discuss it sometime."

"Uh, sure." He was aware that neither of his parents had finished high school; his father had dropped out during junior year due to a family illness--his brother had been gravely ill, and no one else could care for him--and had never gone back.

His mother, on the other hand, left because of discipline issues. She had told Benjamin many times that he was her 'second chance'.

It pained him to think about it, but he still did frequently: he loved his parents, but he loved his imaginary ones more.