Adrian stood in the hospital corridor, his posture rigid under the harsh lights.
Lionel Luthor spoke to Martha Kent with a calm certainty that made her uneasy. "Lex hired some shady investigators and criminals to dig up dirt on Jonathan. These people have no morals, no limits, they will harass or threaten your husband or your family while calling it an investigation."
Martha frowned, uncertain where this was going.
"But they all have a weakness," Lionel continued, his voice steady, "as soon as someone pays them enough, they switch sides, betray their former employers, and hand over everything they think is worth something."
He paused and placed a thick envelope in Martha's hand.
"I already have information from Lex's partners that could ruin your husband's reputation, so you don't have to fear that these thugs will damage Jonathan's name."
Martha's eyes widened, confusion mixing with disbelief.
"Why would you help us?" she asked, unable to disguise her bewilderment.
Lionel met her gaze directly, his expression devoid of bitterness. "I don't want Lex to win the election."
Martha blinked, seeking clarity. "So you want Jonathan to defeat him?"
"It's not easy," Lionel admitted. "Even if your husband weren't ill, his chances were slim. Lex's financial backing is massive, politics often comes down to money, don't underestimate how powerful capital is. But ever since Jonathan collapsed on stage from exhaustion, his approval ratings overtook Lex's. It's strange, but it's true."
Martha let out a hollow laugh. "I'd rather not have this support."
She looked down at the check Lionel had given her, torn between pride and desperation.
"No one can refuse fate's gifts whether they come out of kindness or malice," Lionel said, watching her struggle with the decision.
She finally looked into the hospital room where her husband lay and took a deep breath. At last, she nodded.
"Thank you."
Lionel lingered for a moment, then turned to leave.
Before he reached the exit, Clark Kent appeared at the end of the corridor, eyes fixed on him.
Clark had seen Lionel taking Martha's hand and giving her the check. His expression soured instantly, suspicion flaring.
"Don't come near my mother," Clark warned, his voice low but tense.
Lionel turned, offering a polite smile. "Excuse me Clark, when I conduct normal social interactions, I don't let opinions or threats dictate my behavior."
He stepped around Clark and continued down the corridor. Clark watched him go, jaw tightened, tension rippling through him.
The next morning at Metropolis Hospital, Adrian walked down another corridor holding little Rachel, weighed down by lack of sleep and the exhaustion evident in his weary stride. Rachel, however, was lively and curious, her bright eyes taking in every detail as she was cradled in his arms.
As they passed a nurse's station, Adrian brushed past a woman who immediately froze at the touch of his shoulder. She stood motionless for a long moment, her body trembling, fear evident in her eyes.
Adrian didn't notice anything unusual and continued walking.
Only after he was gone did the woman release a slow, shaky breath. She hurried toward a nearby patient room, pushing the door open, then closing it quickly behind her.
"You will not believe who I just saw!" she blurted to her roommate, Betty, who was lying in bed with her wrist still bandaged from the previous night's collapse in the dormitory.
Betty looked at her weakly, confusion flickering across her face. "Don't tell me you saw a ghost," she said dryly.
"No," the woman said, breathless, "it's way scarier than that! I saw Adrian Kent. I'm serious, even brushing past him gave me the feeling of intense danger!"
Ever since the tragedy at the sorority dorm, Betty and her friends reacted to Adrian's name like a mouse does to a cat, fear twisting their stomachs.
"Well, whatever you do, don't bring him in here," Betty warned, voice small.
"I can't promise that!" her roommate said, then changed the subject, nudging Betty. "So, let's talk about your problem first, Betty, why did you try to kill yourself last night?"
"I didn't try to kill myself," Betty protested, gesturing weakly at the bandage on her wrist. "After the power went out, I lit a candle and saw a woman in the mirror, she was covered in blood with hair all tangled, it scared me so much I fainted."
Her roommate didn't seem convinced. "Betty, there are no ghosts. People would think you slashed your wrist because of emotional issues, heartbreak, exhaustion, fear — any of these can make someone's mind spiral."
"That's not the point," Betty mumbled, overwhelmed by confusion, "I'm more baffled now with all these vampire and ghost stories. Maybe I need to understand this world better."
Her roommate pulled a flyer from her bag and waved it in front of Betty.
"What's that?" Betty asked.
"This," her roommate said with a grin, "is the Adrian Kent Fan Club flyer. I picked it up earlier. They say the club president is a freshman named Hanna. If you're not afraid of death, you could try joining."
Betty's attention wavered as she read the bold title: Adrian Kent Fan Club. Curiosity flickered through her fear.
Meanwhile, Adrian had no idea someone was talking about infiltrating his fan club. He sat in the hospital's public lounge, Rachel asleep in his arms, the newspaper from the Daily Planet next to him.
His tired eyes scanned the headline, which caught his attention immediately: Avenging Angel Strikes Again in Metropolis, Three Gang Members Injured.
Adrian frowned, Rachel shifting beneath his arm as he picked up the paper.
The Daily Planet described the Avenging Angel as a figure of immense strength, able to leap from rooftop to rooftop, and possibly linked to the death of one gang member. Police suspected the mysterious masked figure was responsible.
"Another Avenging Angel sighting?" Adrian whispered, lips tightening as he considered whether to send Bart and Jenna out to investigate this sudden new threat.
He was lost in thought when Clark approached, hesitant, eyes flicking toward Adrian before settling.
"Adrian, I…" Clark paused, searching for words, "There's something I wanted to ask you."
"If this is about teenage problems, I don't have any advice that helps," Adrian said, lifting the torn newspaper from Rachel's tiny hands.
Clark's expression grew serious, "It's not a teenage problem, but if you were faced with a difficult emotional choice, how would you handle it?"
Adrian blinked, staring at Clark with mild curiosity, "A difficult choice? Clark, are you caught up in some kind of emotional dilemma?"
"It's not a dilemma exactly," Clark said, face flushing slightly, "It's about how I feel about a girl, I don't even know if this is love yet."
Adrian's eyebrows raised slightly at Clark's confession.
---