Alone.

That's what I am right now.

I should be feeling something different. Triumphant, maybe, over having succeeded in screwing over my father. Or content to know that I do have a blood brother, and we might, possibly, be able to make that mean something, given time.

Instead, I feel alone. Alone in a house with over a dozen servants.

And I'm not sure why.

I've been looking for my brother since the day I found out I had one, for a number of reasons. All of them personal, although my father probably doesn't see it that way.

Then again, maybe he does.

My father set up a trust allowing any heir to claim ten percent of LuthorCorp upon their eighteenth birthday. My ten percent, in combination with Lucas's, would be enough to force a vote to take control away from my father. I'd been in contact with several other board members, and I knew if I could find Lucas I'd have the support I need.

I found him in Edge City, on the run for his life.

I rescued him, or so I thought, and on the way back to Metropolis I filled him in on how I'd found him. Then I made the introductions to my father. At least my dad had the decency not to feign shock over Lucas's still being alive.

I should have realized my father was being far too arrogant.

I should have realized a lot of things.

Instead, I returned to Smallville with Lucas in tow, and introduced him to Clark.

Clark seemed surprisingly hurt that I hadn't told him about my search for my brother. I don't know at what point during recent weeks he would have liked us to have that rather personal conversation. Still, to spare his feelings I told him I didn't want to say anything until I knew what I was going to find.

The bank called while I was with Lucas, Clark and Clark's homicidal friend Pete. I left the three of them alone and went to decipher the financial problem.

Three hours later, I knew it wasn't a bank error. All my assets had been frozen.

I drove to the mansion, tripling the posted speed limit in my haste, and demanded an explanation from my father. When I took out the loan from Smallville Bank to fund LexCorp, I put up as collateral all my own indepenent wealth. Since my father now owns LexCorp, he decided he wanted to own me as well.

He told me he wanted me out of the mansion.

I pointed out to my father that his petty attempt at payback wasn't going to last very long, once Lucas and I voted him out of LuthorCorp. That's when Lucas came in, and said that, after a nice father-son chat, he wasn't going to vote with me.

With no money, and no place to live, there was really only one place I could turn to.

Thankfully, the Kents seem to have a soft spot for strays.

I got up early the next morning and went downstairs to find Mr. Kent on his first cup of coffee. I offered to help out around the farm while I was staying with his family, and he accepted.

He was almost nice about it.

Clark met me out in the barn when he woke up, and I told him about the ranch my family used to own before my mother died. We talked for a little while, then Clark offered to help me. I refused... I wanted to prove to his father once and for all that some Luthors can pull their own weight.

And I spent the day doing just that.

Clark found out some information from his reporter friend about Lucas. He was adopted through 'Metropolis United Charities'.

I have to admit, whatever my issues with my father, he's good.

I fell for it completely. Believed without question that I was pulling one over on the old bastard, for once, instead of the other way around. I knew instantly that my father had spoken to Lucas long before the night I found him in Edge City.

I went straight to the mansion to confront my long-lost brother.

He'd remodeled my office.

I really don't understand why both my father months ago, and my brother a few days ago, felt the need to do so. What's wrong with my office the way it is?

Though I admit, the television Lucas brought in is great.

Lucas revealed to me that he'd been in touch with my father weeks ago. I tried to find out what, exactly, Lucas was getting out of the deal. He wouldn't let it slip, unless, of course, he really was after my father's love. I hope not, for his sake.

I left after what was a most enjoyable confrontation, all things considered. I'm so used to dealing with my father... it's nice to be able to manipulate someone myself, for a change, instead of always being on the receiving end.

After three days, I knew it was time to leave the Kents. As enjoyable as my time with Clark had been, I wasn't going to make any points against my father from the homey little farm. I packed a small bag, then made the rounds of farewells.

I saved Mr. Kent for last, as I was anticipating a fair amount of gloating from him over the events that had led to my stay in the first place. I thanked him for everything he and his family had done for me...

...and he said I was welcome back any time.

I must remember to warn my father that when he finally does go to hell, he's going to need to bring a sweater.

I refrained from going outside to check and make sure the pigs were still on ground level, and instead tried to turn the conversation to a more normal level by telling him that was nice of him to say. Mr. Kent said I'd have made a hell of a farmer. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, considering, but... well, it's definitely one of the more civil things he's ever said to me.

We shook hands.

Again.

But before I could recover from the shock of Clark's father actually smiling at me, he was knocked unconscious and I was staring down the barrel of my brother's gun.

There's a song in that, somewhere.

It was a long drive to Metropolis, thankfully, or I doubt I'd still be alive to write this entry.

Then again, I'm sure Clark would've saved me, if I hadn't managed to save myself, for once.

It was brilliant.

It wasn't just brilliant, it was... it was a masterpiece in planning. Truly a stroke of genius if there ever was one. The maneuver I made against my father should be written in strategic history books.

When my father walked into his Metropolitan office, he saw me tied to a chair, with my brother pointing a gun at my head.

I believe that bears repeating.

He saw me tied to a chair, with my brother pointing a gun at my head.

The sonofabitch had been faking it. Not the entire time, according to him, but a good portion of it.

On second thought, I'm not going to tell my father to pack a sweater. I'd rather let the bastard freeze.

The plan continued on, however. Lucas handed my father another gun, and told him that if he didn't shoot me, Lucas would shoot him. Then my brother and I waited.

My father protested.

To keep up the charade, I began to fill my brother in on a few fundamental facts I thought he should know. Like why Clark had had to save his life from an Edge City representative a couple days ago. Like why he'd never gotten adopted, but had been shuffled from foster home to foster home until he came of age.

I told Lucas what I still believe to be true. We were an experiment. One son gets everything, the other nothing.

My father protested that I wasn't helping.

No, I wasn't. At least, I wasn't helping him.

Still, my father proclaimed that he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't kill his own son.

And then Lucas dropped his weapon.

My father punched my brother, pointed the gun at him, and fired. Repeatedly.

Unfortunately for my father, the gun wasn't loaded.

I couldn't keep from laughing, even as Lucas untied me from the chair. It truly was a brilliant performance on my part, if I do say so myself.

Lucas and I walked out of my father's office together, leaving him behind.

I've spent most of today clearing the mansion of Lucas's more extravagant purchases. I made sure the movers kept the television, however.

I was actually in the process of reading my father's touching newspaper story of his miracle "recovery" when he walked in, smiling and calling me 'son', as though nothing had happened.

My father made me some offers, among them getting LexCorp back, in exchange for my silence. He also claims that he's only been able to see for 'a few weeks'. There was something about the way he said it... I can't quite pinpoint why it makes me so uneasy.

My father then went on to warn me, through parable, of course, that Lucas is a sociopath, who will never change. I'm sure his warning has nothing to do with the power I now have, and can wield whenever I choose, over LuthorCorp itself.

I may be back in the mansion now, but it's bringing me no comfort.

I'm sure I must have left something at Clark's. Now seems like as good a time as any to retrieve it.

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