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The Will


Clark Kent was seeing Lex Luthor seven years ago until Lex screwed everything up. Now, after receiving dozens of letters from Lex, all left unanswered, one last letter arrives. Implied slash and MPreg.

Age Rating:

The Will

Written Jul 5, 2006

The sound of tires on the gravel drive drew Clark’s attention, and looking out the screen door, he growled when he saw a black limousine pull to a stop. Opening the door as a man got out of the driver’s seat, he strode out into the yard with an icy glare in his blue eyes.

“Mister Kent,” the man began, reaching into his inside jacket pocket, pulling out an envelope.

“Save your breath, Jules,” Clark cut in coldly. “You can just turn around, get back in the car, and leave. I want nothing to do with Lex.”

The man known as Jules sighed heavily and lowered his head for a brief moment before holding the envelope out to him.

“I don’t,” Clark began, only to be interrupted.

“I think you’d better read this one, Mister Kent,” he said firmly. “It’s Mister Luthor’s will.”

Clark blinked in surprise before scowling once more. “Get out of here, Jules. He can’t get me back by buying me.”

Jules sighed in annoyance before thrusting the envelope forcefully into Clark’s hand. “Mister Luthor passed away three weeks ago, Mister Kent. Read the will. I cannot leave until you do so and I have your answer. It was my promise to Mister Luthor.”

Clark swallowed convulsively in shock. Lex was dead? He ripped open the envelope, his eyes moving rapidly over the contents of the letter inside.

Dear Clark,

This is the last letter you will likely ever receive from me, and I using it to declare my last will and testiment. I know that you will likely try and chase Jules away, not wanting anything to do with me, and I don’t blame you. I just hope he sticks to his promise and doesn’t leave until you’ve read this.

After receiving no response from my previous letters, I can only assume you never opened them. Honestly, Clark, I don’t blame you. What I did was wrong, and I have had to live with my mistake every day.

I know it sounds cruel, and when you read the end of this letter, I think you will understand why I must say that I am glad my father is no longer living. As for me, I know my time is coming, and that is why I am sitting here writing this.

Clark wrinkled his brow at this as he turned the page over.

Four yars ago, I was dignosed with cancer. You were right Clark, all the money in the world could not insure my health or my happiness. The doctors have done all that they can, and still, it is not enough. I’m dying, Clark and before I do, I needed to contact you one last time. I need to at least attempt to make sure Destiny would be taken care of.

Clark arched a brow, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

If you have not read my previous letters, then you are at a loss and do not know who Destiny is. I am also positive that you’ve told Jules that you want nothing to do with me, money or otherwise.

Please Clark, understand that I know this when I say I am leaving Luthor Corp. to you. I know that you are not a business man, but I am sure Cloe can help you in finding someone to help run the company who is honest and won’t run it into the ground.

I do this not in an attempt to buy your forgiveness, but to ensure Destiny’s financial security in the future. Please Clark, I am asking that you give her a chance, and open your heart and home to her - she is our daughter, Clark.

Clark blinked in surprise at this as the tears began rolling down his cheeks, and he took a shuddering breath as he continued reading.

I know you are angry with me Clark, and I don’t blame you. I should have talked to you. I realize there is no excuse for what I did. I just-”

Clark could sense a sigh as Lex paused and realized that it must have been a hard subject to broach. He swallowed nervously as he continued on the next page.

I guess I just didn’t think you would understand. It probably seemed a little odd to you when we met, me being twenty-five and you in high school. You probably figured that I had been around the block at least once, but the truth is, I was a virgin in every sense of the word.

You see, Clark, I didn’t want to be with just anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty of opportunity, though I’m not bragging about it. Most, if not all of them only wanted to be with me because I was rich, and I knew that, which is exactly the reason I turned them down.

Even though your parents didn’t like me or my father because of who he was, you saved my life - how, I will never know - and gave me a chance. For that, I am forever grateful.

Honestly, the only explanation for the reason I went to Lana I can give you, is that I thought you might mistake my request to top as wanting control in the bedroom. I was happy to give that to you, Clark, but I wanted to experience what you felt. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be comfortable in granting me that, though.

I am sorry I didn’t trust you enough to ask; maybe you would have. I never meant to hurt you, Clark, but this was something I wanted so badly. I wasn’t stupid though, I knew what could happen, and took precautions, but if I could go back, I would never have done it to begin with because I lost you.

Whether you would have said no or not, I should have just asked you and been happy, and for that, I am truly sorry. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me. I can only pray that you will open your heart and home to our daughter.

I know it must come as a surprise to you, believing that I never told you about her, but I did. Everything you could possibly want to know about her is in those letters I sent.

Clark, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for not replying. I know if you had read them, you would have. I know that you would have come back. You aren’t the kind of person to turn your back on a child. I only have myself to blame. In a way, I’m glad you didn’t because I know that you wouldn’t have been happy, and that you had every right not to trust me.

Please Clark, take care of our daughter.

Love always,


Clark folded the letter with tears in his eyes, then turned and strode toward the house.

“Mister Kent?” Jules called after him uncertainly.

“She can stay, Jules,” Clark called over his shoulder, not turning around. “She can have the room upstairs, first door on the right.”

Jules watched, swallowing hard as the screen door on the old farm house slammed behind the man, and he disappeared. He opened the door to the back seat and pulled out a small suitcase, then held the door open as a little seven-year-old brunette climbed out, looking around warily.

“It’ll be all right Miss Destiny,” he murmured softly as the child reached for his hand after he shut the door behind her. Leading her up the steps, he opened the screen door and looked around only to find the room was empty.

“Mister Kent?” he called out but there was no reply. After a moment, he swallowed hard then led the girl upstairs through the silent house to the room Clark had indicated.

“I’m sure it will be okay, Miss Destiny,” he said as he began to unpack the child’s belongings, helping to get her settled. “It seems that Mister Kent had not heard of your father’s passing, and is in shock. He is a nice man; your father held him in the highest regard. He just needs some time to adjust. I am sure you will be fine here. I know your father wished for you to come and live with Mister Kent,” Jules continued as he put away the last of her belongings, stowing the suitcase in the closet.

“You can always contact me should you need anything, Miss Destiny. I can come check on you later in the week if you like, to see how you and Mister Kent are getting along.” He quirked his brow questioningly and the girl nodded. “Very well, Miss Destiny,” he continued when she remained quiet. “I do apologize, but I must leave you now. My place is at Luthor mansion.”

The child nodded, her face filled with sorrow, and his heart wrenched before he bowed and left her in to the silence of the empty house.

Clark strode into the barn and collapsed on the cot that still resided up in the loft, memories of him and Lex swirling like a maelstrom in his mind. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

It was dark when he awoke again a few hours later and made his way into the house. He poured himself a drink, then built a fire in the fireplace, sitting before it, brooding in silence. The only thing that broke the stillness was the crackle of flames and the ticking of the clock on the wall. If minutes passed or hours, he did not know, as he stared unblinking into the golden glow of the fire.

His expressionless face disolved into one of pain and rage. He threw the still-full glass of hard liquor into the fireplace with a crash and the flames lept for a brief moment. His rage was not quelled though. He forced himself from the chair with a scream before he began wrecking everything in his path.

Finally, after destroying nearly everything in the living room, he collapsed by an antique desk, and gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest as tears of hate and anguish rolled hot down his cheeks, he reached out with a shaky hand and opened one of the drawers.

Reaching in, he pulled out a stack of letters tied together. He untied the string binding them and flipped through them in sequential order before going back and opening the first, beginning to read.

He hadn’t gotten through the first page when a small hand was timidly placed on his shoulder and he turned to look into Lex’s grey eyes in the face of his daughter.

“Sir,” the girl asked uncertainly, and Clark saw the question in her gaze.

He swallowed hard, wiping his tears his tears away with the back of his hand. “Do,” he began and glanced to the letter in his hand. “Do you know who I am?” he asked softly as he looked back up to her.

She nodded slowly after studying him for a moment. “Yes,” she whispered.

Clark launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her as though she were his lifeline. “I’m so sorry,” he rasped in her ear. Tears came to his eyes when he felt her return the embrace. “I’m so sorry, Lex,” he whispered against her hair. “Please forgive me.”

He was startled when he heard the girl - his daughter - reply, “It’s okay, Dad. I’m sure he does, and I do, too.”

Clark pulled back to smile down at her, and realized by the chiming of the clock how late it was and how tired she looked. Gazing around at the destruction he had caused, he chuckled. “Let’s get to bed, its late. I can clean this up in the morning.”

She smiled and nodded hesitantly. He hugged her once more and combed his fingers through her dark hair - his hair - as he gazed into her eyes. He hesitated briefly before kissing her on the forehead. “Goodnight Dad,” she said softly.

“Goodnight Destiny,” he replied and followed her up the stairs. He hugged her again at her door, then continued on to his own room where he had the first peaceful sleep in ages.

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