I fucking hate my father.

At least that's how I felt when he had announced the closing of the plant. I spent a lot of time and money on that plant. Invested a lot of myself here in Smallville. I was proud of the fact that the plant was finally making a profit. Proud of the 2,500 people that worked there. I told my father they deserved a pat on the pack.

Instead, he gave them the axe. And blamed it on me.

I'm too emotionally vested he said. We're in the business to make profit, not friends he said. This was just a training ground for me he said. This wasn't my home he said. As the helicopter flew away, I had only one thought in mind.

I wish he was fucking dead.

The phone was ringing off the hook since the plants closing. Newspapers, now ex-employees, I didn't answer it all day. Several times I had noticed Clark's number on the caller ID, but I think fear prevented me from talking to him. The last thing I wanted to do was hear how disappointed in me he was.

I know now that wasn't the case. Clark had come to the mansion to see if I was okay. He knew about my fathers offer to come to Metropolis, he knew I had turned it down. So the rumors about me running the plant into the ground just to go back home were obviously a lie. The other rumor was incompetence. Clark knew that was a lie too.

In the middle of one of the worst days of my life, Clark was there for me. That's what friends are for he had said.

My father of course underestimated me. As I told Clark, I had a plan. A good one at that, beneficial to all involved. I had called a meeting of a few queue employees of the plant. Offered them a chance to control their own destiny. I would be able to supply ninety percent of the funds needed to buy the plant out from under my father. All they had to do was come up with the rest. I assured them that if they could raise the cash, I could convince the board to agree to the employee buyout.

Everybody wins.

Or at least would have won. Until my father graciously informed me that he had just purchased the Smallville Savings and Loan. With him in control of the bank that the employees would get their mortgages and loans from, the buyout would be impossible.

My father has never cared for me in his life. Never given a shit what I was doing, where I was going. The moment I become successful, find my place in the world, that's when he gets all fatherly and wants me with him. I don't fucking understand him. I really don't.

To make matters even worse, yeah I didn't know that was possible either, I decided to take a break and stop by the Talon. That's when I saw Nixon confronting Clark. I'm glad Nixon took my cue and acted as if we'd never met. I warned Clark to stay away from Nixon, and that if he was approached again, he was to call me.

On my way home I called Nixon. Apparently the man had a problem with taking orders. I found him in my study when I arrived. He told me he had some interesting information on Clark. I warned him for the last time. Stay away from Clark and his family. I was not in the fucking mood for him. I really wasn't. But all the questions came flooding back. The car accident, Club Zero, Ryan, everything that reminded me why I hired Nixon in the first place. I had too many questions. He claimed to have the answers.

I had to clear my head. Between Nixon and the Plant, my mind was spinning. The feel of my car doing ninety on the country roads usually helped. Except for today.

Since that didn't work, I resorted to the next best thing that usually made me feel better. I went to see Clark.

I found him in the loft preparing for the big dance. Helped him with his bow-tie, as he obviously was having trouble. Clark seemed a little jumpy, I wondered what exactly Nixon had said to him before I showed up at the Talon. I couldn't help but hear Nixon's voice in the back of my mind, telling me there was more to Clark Kent than meets the eye.

When Clark asked me about how things with the plant were coming along, I told him the truth. I wasn't sure what the outcome would be. I explained to him that my father and I had a complicated relationship. Not built on trust, as he'd like me to believe. Instead it was built on lies and deceit.

Then I made mention that I was glad our relationship wasn't like that. I could've sworn Clark flinched when he agreed.

Still, I felt the need to warn Clark. To tell him that no matter what happened in the next few days, I was still his friend, and that would never change. My stomach was in knots. I had a bad feeling about a lot of things, about what was to come. I had told Clark my fears, and asked him to look after himself.

It took me a lot longer than usual to get back to the mansion. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. My bad feeling was about to be proven correct when I discovered the metal object missing from where I had left it. The object that was found near the supposed space ship crash. The object that 'wasn't of this Earth'.

The events leading up to this day had my emotions in a spin, the weather only echoed my anger. I began tearing the study apart looking for the object, cursing Nixon's name in the process. To make matters even worse, my father arrived, announcing that he knew I was using my mothers stock to fund the buyout.

I didn't have time for him. I had to find that object. I listened to his fatherly babble as I proceeded to tear apart the study. It had to be here somewhere. I had to have misplaced it. My fathers voice was irritating me beyond belief, at this point I was just breaking shit out of frustration. He had warned me that he'd bury me, and everyone in Smallville that took my side.

Then the window shattered.

I was thrown to the ground from the force of the wind, the now empty bookcase falling on top of me. Another blow to my now often bruised head.

My head was pounding. Something was clouding my vision, blood I think. I barely heard my fathers screams over the wind circulating through the study. Glass everywhere from the shattered window, from the objects I had previously smashed in a fit of rage.

I stood up, found my father. He was pinned under one of the columns attached to the support beams. His hand reaching for me, begging me for help. The wind around me fueling my anger, my hatred towards him.

He was helpless.

And I was overjoyed.

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