Title: A Semi-Precious Helix

Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Clark/Lex, Clark/OC (implied), Lex/OC (implied)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Self-harm, implied underage, implied non-cons

Spoilers: None

Word Count: 15100

Archive: Fine, just let me know

Summary: You can buy anything you want on the streets of Metropolis for the right price.

helix : noun / plural helices 

Etymology: Latin, from Greek; akin to Greek eilyein to roll, wrap

1: something spiral in form: as a: an ornamental volute b: a coil formed by winding wire around a uniform tube

2: the incurved rim of the external ear

3: a curve traced on a cylinder or cone by the rotation of a point crossing its right sections at a constant oblique angle; broadly : spiral

alpha helix : noun : the coiled structural arrangement of many proteins consisting of a single chain of amino acids stabilized by hydrogen bonds

double helix : noun : a helix or spiral consisting of two strands in the surface of a cylinder that coil around its axis; especially : the structural arrangement of DNA in space that consists of paired polynucleotide strands stabilized by cross-links between purine and pyrimidine bases

The Helix Nebula is a planetary nebula about 650 light-years from Earth in the constellation Aquarius. It is one of the closest planetary nebulae to Earth. The Helix is often referred to as the 'Eye of God' on the Internet.

*  *  A Semi-Precious Helix  *  *  *

You can buy anything you want on the streets of Metropolis for the right price.

If I learned one thing growing up, it was that people are invariably out for themselves. My father made sure to beat that bit of knowledge back into me whenever it looked as if I might forget. It didn't take me long to catch on after my mother died and I couldn't count on her protection, as limited as it had been. I've always believed that, after my brother Julian died, she took the easy way out and that her heart 'condition' had been nothing more than a euphemism for 'broken.'

Of course, losing both of them didn't affect my father very long. He was too caught up in schemes designed to restore the Luthor fortune to its former glory. They might have succeeded if he'd spent his evenings sober, but the habits he picked up when he lost it all were stronger than his will to survive. Investors turned away from him, banks closed their doors, and the only person willing to take a chance on Lionel Luthor ended up buying his soul.

And his only living son.

Me.

Morgan Edge always liked having exotic pets and I guess I fit the bill pretty well back then. There certainly weren't many other bald fourteen-year-olds around...at least, not who could take a substantial beating and fucking without showing the effects the next day. The fact that I also had a brain was simply a bonus. It didn't take Morgan long to let me out of his bedroom and into the front office where I could run numbers for him. There was something in the past between him and my father...something sordid...and he took delight in the fact that my father had sold the one thing that could have pulled the Luthor name out of the gutter. I was just glad that I no longer had to face the disgust that filled my father's eyes every time he looked at his deformed son.

It made it all too easy for me to stand over my father's grave and never shed a tear.

I ached and I healed and I learned and I used every scrap of information I could piece together to make myself indispensable to Morgan. The years passed and the name Lex Luthor came to mean more in Metropolis than Lionel Luthor's ever had, though admittedly it's at a different level of society. No debutante balls or charity functions fill my dance card. Instead, it's shouts and sirens and 'Yessir, Mr. Luthor' that form the backdrop to my days.

Morgan is the king of the streets and I'm the crown prince, and I like it that way.

. . .

He was walking out of an alley. It was dark, just after sundown, but he was still hard to miss. Tall, dark-haired, thin...too thin for my tastes...yet there was something about him that made me order Mercy to pull the car over. He walked past with his head down, never looking anywhere but at the sidewalk, and I found myself wanting to see the face hidden by the tangled curls. It wasn't until he'd walked a few yards further that I realized he was barefoot, the dirt on his feet so thick that it acted as a disguise. After that discovery, I looked closer. As he passed beneath a streetlight, it was easy to see the grime caked on his ripped clothing, and I realized his leanness owed nothing to fashion and everything to starvation.

He'd disappeared around the corner before I thought to ask Mercy if she knew anything about him, and he was nowhere in sight when she started the car to follow him at my direction. Feeling oddly disappointed, I told her to take me to the meeting and then start sending out the new Word for the month. I'd selected Opal to replace Sapphire and was already considering what to choose as its replacement. A text on mineralogy had proved quite useful after I'd exhausted the periodic table.

. . .

I understand the value of money and the price of loyalty. The first doesn't always guarantee the second. My father failed to remember that and it contributed to his downfall. His trusted vice-president staged a financial coup, and the ease with which he succeeded sometimes causes me to wonder if my father sustained more damage than I did that day in Smallville. The meteorites took my hair and changed my health for the better, but his razor-sharp mind had dulled and left him vulnerable.

Trust. It's a word that is almost meaningless in my world, yet there are a few who've earned it. Mercy owes her life to me and, in exchange, she keeps me safe. Toby, on the other hand, can be purchased with a steady supply of what he needs. Still, I'm willing to believe he would throw his lot in with me if he had to choose, simply because I have what he's looking for and he understands that. Others can be granted limited confidence, but I know that complete faith in my fellow man is an impossible dream.

I trust Morgan...to be untrustworthy. I have no illusions. If it came down to it, my life would be forfeit if he felt it would profit him in the long run. Any fondness he holds for me stems from what I can bring to him. It is an important fact for me to remember any time I handle a 'favor' for him.

My reputation is key. I've chosen to avoid certain aspects of Morgan's business, especially when it comes to retribution. I won't handle the body market, either. It hits too close to home for me. Morgan laughs at my squeamishness, but he's never forced me to pick it up. Nonetheless, I'm bound to it on the periphery, since it's an inevitable piece of the streets we own.

Mercy is aware of that, so I was surprised when she stopped the car at a street corner without a word. She had been out earlier with the Word, Jasper, and she'd never indicated that she encountered any problems. The flash and glitter clustered on the sidewalk has never been to my taste, so I waited for her to tell me what she had in mind. It wasn't until a dark shadow separated itself from the side of the building that I grasped the reason behind her action.

The body that had been merely thin before was positively skeletal. This time I could see his face and, despite its gauntness, there was a hint of something extraordinary beneath the dirt. Green eyes caught the light before his gaze dropped to the sidewalk and they were hidden once more. The others drew back as he advanced toward my car, pulling away as if he would contaminate them with an inadvertent touch. Knowing he wouldn't be able to see through the smoked glass, I nodded to Mercy and she lowered the window.

"Yeah?" His voice rasped as if his throat hurt and his eyes never tried to meet mine as he stood a few feet away.

"How much?"

His shrug was unexpected...and so was his reply. "Whatever."

The simple movement shifted his shirt enough to expose a livid bruise along his collarbone, and I began to understand. It made me sick. "I need a Word and a price."

Lank, greasy hair swung almost imperceptibly with his headshake. "Jasper. You do what you want and pay what you want."

"Get in the front seat." I mentally apologized to Mercy, but I was unwilling to let him join me in the back. She'd brought me there on her own initiative, and I trusted that she had a good reason, but I had my limits.

Without a word, he climbed in and closed the door with a quiet thud. Mercy closed the connecting window to isolate me in the rear, and I watched in quiet amusement as both front windows opened. Thumbing the intercom, I instructed Mercy to take us back to my penthouse and settled in for the ride.

. . .

The trip upstairs in the elevator was appalling. I resorted to breathing through my mouth and glaring at Mercy behind his excessively filthy back. The minute the doors opened, I wasted no time making myself clear. "Get him cleaned up before anything else."

I retreated to my study and occupied myself with paperwork, trying not to speculate about my guest...and why Mercy wanted him inside my safe zone. My cool-as-ice blonde bodyguard had never done anything like that before, and I didn't like the uncertainty.

He was obviously part of the market. He had the Word. No one was given the Word unless he or she had been checked out and found clean of any ties to the cops. The Word guaranteed safe passage and could be used to ask for help out of a tough spot. It changed every month to make sure it wasn't too easy to leak to the authorities. It was one of my better ideas, and Morgan had embraced it enthusiastically when he saw how useful it could be. The best part was that I set the Word myself, so I controlled its distribution and use.

Word or no Word, I was disturbed by Mercy's appearance at the door of the study…alone.

"Where is he?"

"He's still in the shower in the guest room. I just laid out some of your clothes for him."

"Great. Now, who the fuck is he, Mercy?"

"They call him Stone. He's been around for about six months, since the beginning of summer."

"And...?"

"I've heard things about him. He's...different."

"Different. That much was apparent from his...appearance."

"That's not it. Yeah, he takes on the sick fucks, but he never keeps the money. He gives it all away and then sleeps on the street, cruises the dumpsters for food. It's not drugs or booze. It's something else."

"Why is he here, Mercy? Have we become a satellite office for the local mission?"

It was interesting to see emotion flitting across Mercy's normally stoic face. "He's not dangerous, Lex. He...helps people and...."

I knew what she was trying to say. It had been a couple of years since she'd been out on the streets and needing help herself, but she hadn't forgotten.

"All right. He's your responsibility. Just be careful."

The rarely seen smile I received made my snap decision worthwhile. I just hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt us.

. . .

Mercy keeps me in shape with regular workouts and I've never had to worry about my weight, but seeing my clothes hanging loose on Stone made me distinctly uncomfortable. He was a good four inches taller and should have been squeezing into my loosest jeans, not struggling to keep them from slipping off his hips.

At least he was clean.

I hoped Mercy had disposed of the rags he'd been wearing. Just the thought of them still on the premises made my skin crawl. He stood there, still barefoot, in the center of the kitchen, waiting for Mercy to finish making him a sandwich. I wanted to pull everything we had out of the refrigerator and make him eat it, but Mercy had the right idea. From the looks of it, he would probably have trouble keeping food down if he had too much at once.

"Here. Sit down and start with this." Mercy slid the plate holding the sandwich and some potato chips onto the kitchen table before pouring a glass of milk. She frowned at Stone when he failed to take the chair she'd pointed to. "I said, sit down and eat."

<;span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman"'>Keeping his eyes down, Stone shuffled a few steps forward and did as he'd been told. He pulled out the chair and sat down gingerly, almost as if he was afraid he was going to break it. From my vantage point in the doorway, I could see his hand trembling as he reached for the sandwich and I knew I couldn't stay there and watch. "Bring him to the study when he's done, Mercy." She nodded absently, completely absorbed in making sure that he ate, and I left before I said something I'd later regret.

. . .

"What do you want?"

Bare feet meant I hadn't heard him coming, so I have to admit I jumped at his words. "Fuck! Don't do that!"

"Sorry."

I could barely hear his mumbling, and I hadn't seen his eyes since that quick flash on the street...and it was beginning to annoy me. "Where's Mercy?"

He shrugged. "She sent me.... What do you want me to do?"

I was having a hard time deciding which one of them I was angrier with at that moment, but Mercy was slightly ahead in the running. "I don't want anything from you. Go find Mercy and ask her what she wants you to do."

Without a word, he turned and left the study. I sat behind my desk fuming at the interruption, even though all I'd managed to do for the last hour was play solitaire on my laptop. It was getting late, but the thought of trying to sleep with Stone in the next room was disconcerting, to say the least. I decided to give Mercy a few more minutes before I went looking for her myself, hoping she would have everything resolved by then.

It was a forlorn hope. When I finally emerged from the study to make my way down the hallway to my bedroom, Mercy was waiting.

"He's sleeping." She waved towards the guest room. I was surprised to see the door standing open until I walked close enough to look inside. Stone was curled up on the carpet, not the bed.

"What the hell?" I dropped my voice to a whisper when Mercy frowned at me. "Why's he on the floor?"

She shook her head and muttered, "I told you that he was different."

"You meant to say 'certifiable,' didn't you?"

"Lex...."

"Fine. I just...fuck...I don't know what I want to say about this, except...be careful." She didn't reply, and I went into my bedroom and locked the door behind me. I didn't know exactly when I'd lost control of the entire situation or if I was ever going to get it back.

It took me a couple of hours to finally fall asleep, and he was gone before I woke up.

. . .

Neither of us fooled the other for very long. We both took up scanning the corner groups, peering down shadowed alleys as we cruised by during our daily tasks. I needed to be a presence out there, a not-so-subtle reminder of the status quo, but our search was always tempered by the knowledge that my interest in someone could also prove deadly...for him. 

The first snow arrived during Pyrite, and I woke that night from a dream where I ordered boots of all sizes and left them by all the dumpsters of the city. I looked up from my desk a dozen times a day, convinced that a tall shadow had passed by my study door...and Mercy stopped bringing me sandwiches that I couldn't eat.

The second week of Tourmaline was the advent of Hope.

She simply appeared one day and took up her duties, seconding Mercy without discussion. Mercy never wasted words, but Hope spoke even less. Her dark face and deep brown eyes revealed nothing of her past and asked no questions about mine. Training sessions with Mercy made it clear Hope was more than competent, and Mercy's trust in her ability and willingness to protect was all I required to accept the services of my newest bodyguard.

It would be nice if Mercy occasionally asked me first.

. . .

I'm sure it was merely a coincidence that I first saw his eyes again during Emerald.

When they entered the study together, Mercy's grasp on his arm made it clear that he wasn't leaving the penthouse any time soon. He was still much too thin and the fresh scrape on the side of his face looked raw and painful, but he was a great deal cleaner than the last time.

"Hope found out where he's been for the last month or so. I just picked him up."

"Do I want to know?"

Her frown deepened and she shook her head, cutting her eyes toward our reluctant guest.

"So, what now?"

Her prescription was succinct. "Food, sleep, and then Toby."

He stood there, muscles lax in her grip despite the fact that he had at least six inches on her. It was hard to tell for sure, the way his shoulders slumped. His stance disturbed me, and I had to be sure we were making the right move.

"Are you okay with all this, Stone?"

That's when his eyes rose from his contemplation of the carpet and met mine. They seemed puzzled, perhaps even dazed, by my question. After a moment, his gaze dropped again, and he shrugged. His murmured response was so quiet that I had to strain to hear it. "Whatever you want."

I admit he baffled me, and I looked to Mercy for answers. As usual, she took care of it for me. She gently turned him around to lead him down the hall, and I heard her explain in a firm voice, "We want to help."

. . .

"He sleeping?" I thought it was probably a safe assumption when Mercy showed up about an hour later.

"Yeah. He ate a little bit first and then took a shower."

"And I'm guessing that he's on the floor."

She shrugged as she leaned up against the doorway of the study. "Yeah."

"Is he going to take off again?"

"Not unless he goes out a window and, yeah, I made sure he can't open them. Hope's got the elevator coded so he can't use it, and the same with the stairs. They're both set to your password, by the way."

"Nice to know that I can't keep any secrets from you two."

The smirk on Mercy's face reminded me of my own, and not in a good way. "It's what we're here for." She straightened up then, her face sobering. "He was in one of Edge's houses."

I didn't fail to miss the implications. "Jesus fuck, Mercy! You stole one of his...."

"No one should be treated like that, Lex. No one!"

"It was his choice, wasn't it?"

The slam of her hand on my desk was unprecedented, and I ended up shoving my chair backwards to put some distance between us. "How can you be so blind, Lex? It hasn't been that many years, has it?"

I couldn't face her accusing eyes any longer. Standing up, I walked to the window and looked out over the city instead. When she didn't say anything else, I rubbed the back of my aching neck, and then did something I hadn't done in a very long time.

I apologized.

"I'm sorry, Mercy. You're right. People don't deserve to be beaten just because they exist." I shook my head, still not understanding. "Why him, though, out of all the others out there?"

I jumped a little when I felt her hand on my shoulder. "He's still the same kid he was the last time, Lex. He's...good...and he needs a chance."

Patting her hand awkwardly, I acceded to her unspoken request. "Okay, Mercy. We'll try."

. . .

"Well, he obviously needs to eat, and it'll take a week or so for the cuts and bruises to heal, but he seems healthy enough. I'll run the blood tests and let you know if I find anything." Toby's bedside manner was brusque, but I knew that his examination of Stone had been thorough. "Just one thing, Lex. You've seen the scar, right?"

"Scar? I know he's been abused."

"This is more than the usual, Lex. I've never...."

I pushed by Toby and headed for Stone's bedroom. "The fuck, Toby. Show me." Stone was just buttoning his shirt when I got there, and I waved him to a stop. He dropped his hands to his sides and looked away when I blurted out, "Toby says you have a...scar."

"Show him, kid." Toby's voice was kinder, and Stone only shuddered once before he unbuttoned his shirt as requested. He let the soft cotton drape open and turned so that I could see his chest.

When I saw the raised, red welts, I understood why Toby had been so concerned. I was sick at the thought of someone burning those lines into Stone's skin...and I wanted names so I could make sure it never happened again. "What kind of fucking sick bastard does something like this?" It took an effort, but I was finally able to drag my eyes away from the abomination and look into Stone's face. "Tell me who did this to you."

After one despairing glance at Toby, Stone shook his head and concentrated on re-buttoning his shirt. "No one you know. No one here...in Metropolis." Scar covered again, he stood there quietly, waiting.

Toby spoke up from behind me. "It's healed, as much as you could call it that, but I don't like the looks of those blisters around your neck, Stone. I think you should take the necklace off for a while."

Stone's hand rose and he backed away from us, his head shaking vehemently. "No! I have to wear it!"

It was the first time he'd shown any emotion, and I was naturally curious. Walking forward, I reached out for the necklace in question. "Let me see it, Stone." When his back was flattened against the wall, his eyes darted around the room seeking an escape, but I was determined. I tried to soothe him as I pushed his hand out of the way. "I just want to see it. I'm not going to take it away from you."

After a tense moment, his hand dropped and revealed a leather cord with a single small bead, rough-cut and glowing green against raw-looking flesh. I touched it with one gentle finger and heard him whimper at the slight pressure. I nodded, backed up to give him some room, and then asked the question I was positive I already had the answer to.

"That's why you're called Stone...right?"

. . .

Mercy's reminder didn't help when it was time for me to try to sleep. Compartmentalizing helps most nights, but bringing my past to life and then putting that past in the bedroom next to mine was an open invitation to insomnia. It moved in, made itself comfortable, and...there was nothing that I could do about it. I tossed and turned in the dark and counted...something...anything. I stuck to my resolution not to call Toby and ask for the drugs I've always refused to take.

Then I heard the whimper.

I waited, but my two faithful bodyguards were obviously having no trouble sleeping, and no one came walking down the hall to check on Stone. A second pitiful whine tugged me out of bed and into the next room to see what was wrong.

At first, I couldn't see him in the dim light from the window. I'd expected to find him curled up on the carpet as he had been before, but he wasn't there. The bed was empty, too. I was about to get on my hands and knees to look under the bed, when I heard something shifting around in the darkest corner of the room.

"Stone?" I kept my voice low and soothing, not wanting him to panic and bolt if he was scared. There was no answer, and I shuffled a few steps closer. "Is something wrong?" Not being able to see his face left me at a disadvantage, and I detoured to the nightstand by the bed to fumble for a light. Turning back to him, I groused, "You're keeping me awake."

That wasn't really fair, because I wouldn't have heard him in the first place if I'd been sleeping. He didn't move from his huddle...just kept his head down against his drawn-up knees and shivered.  I couldn't help hissing when I saw the bloody gouges down the back of his forearms. "What the fuck did you do now?"

Stomping into the bathroom for a washcloth and bandages would have been more satisfying if I hadn't been barefoot. As it was, I had to settle for slamming the cabinet shut and making the water hot enough to turn my hands red. Bringing everything back with me, I knelt down next to him and growled, "Give me your arm, you idiot."

Aside from an initial flinch away from the hot cloth, he offered no resistance to my efforts, allowing me to apply disinfectant and wrap gauze around both arms without a sound. He never said a word or looked up at me...just let me move him around like a mannequin. After I'd cleaned as much blood from under his ragged nails as I could, I made a mental note to schedule a manicure for him.

"You want to explain what all this is about?" I tried for calm, but it proved impossible not to let my anger bleed through. His refusal to answer didn't help. "Do I need to call Toby back?" That made it past his wall of silence and he shook his head, still not looking at me. Resenting Mercy's convenient absence, I sighed and stood up. "Come with me."

He scrambled to his feet and followed me out of the room and down the hall into the kitchen, sitting at the table without protest when I pointed to a chair. I frowned at Mercy when she poked her head in, and then shook my head when she silently asked if I needed any help. She nodded...and wisely avoided smiling at me before she disappeared back to her own room.

I rummaged in the cupboards and pulled out two mugs, which I filled with milk before I popped them into the microwave. Thirty seconds and a beep later, I joined him at the table with the warmed milk and a handful of Oreos. "Here. Eat these and drink that."

Ignoring the cookies, he held the mug in both hands and stared down into the contents until I nudged his arm gently. "My mother always claimed warm milk was the best way to chase away nightmares. Me...I just liked the cookies." I was surprised at the rush of pleasure I felt when he finally took a sip and then downed half the mug with a couple of gulps.

The warm feeling faded as I ended up eating all of the cookies myself. When he left the rest of the milk in the mug, I remembered that he'd eaten very little at dinner, even though I could see that he was starving. His ribs and shoulder blades were visible under the tight t-shirt he was wearing, and the hollows in his cheeks weren't simply fashionable. I added talking to Toby about vitamins and supplements to the manicure, and then shopping for clothes that fit rounded out the list. Wearing my clothes wasn't going to work for very long with the height difference.

Aggravated by not being able to see his face behind the dark waves of hair that kept falling forward to cover it, I briefly considered a haircut, but decided the sacrifice wouldn't be worth it. His lack of stubble made me uncomfortable for a moment, I wondered how old he really was, but then I realized the cause was probably genetic, especially considering the golden tones of his skin.

The milk having done its job, at least for me, I yawned and rose to my feet. "Let's go back to bed." Obediently, he followed me back to his room, and then pissed me off by ignoring the bed once again in favor of the carpet. He flinched when I made it clear just how angry I was. "Get up from there and get into the bed where you belong!"

It got worse when he stood back up and started to pull off his clothes.

It was an accident, but it still made me wince when I grabbed his arm right over the bandage. I shook him anyway, my voice low and furious. "Leave your goddamn clothes on. I don't buy or sell sex. Got it?" I waited until he nodded before I released him, and then I stood there until he pulled his t-shirt back on and crawled under the covers.

Turning out the light, I started to leave and then changed my mind. "Shift over." I knew that the minute I left the room, he was going to be back on the carpet, and I'd had enough for one night. He did as I told him, and I joined him on the bed. Lying there looking up at the ceiling, I sighed. "Listen, I just want to get some sleep while it's still dark out, okay?"

I could feel him radiating tension a foot away, so...in self-defense and from sheer exhaustion...I rolled over and pulled him into me. I rearranged him until at least I was comfortable, with his head on my shoulder and my arm across his back. I rubbed lightly, and slowly felt the tremors settle and his muscles relax. He was warm against me and smelled of soap, dried blood and the acrid odor of sweat I associated with fear and pain. When he shifted a little, his breath washed across my face and the scent of sweet milk replaced the rest, and I felt a little better about being there.

His hand slid over my chest and I was suddenly reminded that I preferred sleeping in the nude and only wore my silk pajama bottoms for Hope and Mercy's sake. My lack of a top didn't seem to bother him, though, and he settled in closer. I was just drifting off when he surprised me with a question. "Why don't you have any hair?"

I considered simply answering him, since I had no reason to keep it a secret, but then changed my mind. "I'll tell you...if you tell me why you wear the necklace."

I fell asleep waiting for an answer.

. . .

"Again. This time, try the other handhold I showed you."

"This way?"

"Yes. Maybe next time you go up against someone with a knife, you won't end up with it in you."

Hope's words startled me, not so much by the content as by the number of them. I couldn't remember when she'd addressed more than five words to me at one time. Drawn by curiosity, I lingered outside the workout room, and listened to her and Stone.

"Better. You know you were lucky that night, but you can't always count on it."

Stone never said a word, but I could hear the sound of flesh striking flesh, followed by a grunt of pain.

"Come on, defend yourself. If you're just looking to have me hurt you, we're stopping."

Mercy walked out of the kitchen and looked down the hall in my direction. When she spotted me standing by the door, she raised one eyebrow in a silent question. Reluctantly, I abandoned my role as eavesdropper and joined her, hoping to get some answers about Stone in return.

"Why is Hope working with him?"

Mercy went back into the kitchen and I followed her, waiting while she checked whatever she had cooking in the oven. Satisfied with what she found, she leaned against the counter and finally answered me. "We think it will help his self-esteem...and with some other issues he has."

"Taking up amateur psychology as a hobby?"

A disgusted twist of her lips made it clear she didn't appreciate my sarcasm. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed he's punishing himself for something? Personally, I think it's a miracle he hasn't managed to get himself killed before now...or done it himself."

Remembering the damage from the night before, I nodded in agreement. "Okay, I'll grant he's got problems, but are we the right people...."

Mercy shook her head with a frown before turning away to pull dishes and glasses out of a cupboard, insisting over her shoulder, "We're the only ones who care enough to try. He's not willing to help himself, Lex, although he'll step in front of a knife or a gun for someone else."

I'd already had the feeling that there was something important that I was missing about Stone, and Mercy's statement only made it stronger. "What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

"Hope. She's alive because of him. Edge found out...and Stone ended up in the house."

Suddenly, some of the things Mercy had said earlier began to fall into place. "You're paying him back."

Finished with setting the table for four people, Mercy nodded with an indulgent smile that congratulated her idiot employer for finally understanding. "It was time somebody tried to."

. . .

I was quiet during dinner, busy thinking about Toby's report on Stone's blood tests as I watched Stone avoid eating most of the food on his plate.

He was clean, no disease, but there were some anomalies that bothered Toby, which said something right there, because very little shook Toby out of his casual view of the world. Toby was going to keep looking, but he admitted that there was little chance of finding anything documented, since what he'd found in Stone's blood seemed very similar to the unique markers in mine. I told him not to spend too much time on it.

Still, the coincidence certainly gave me something to ponder...something other than the looks I saw Hope and Mercy exchange over Stone's bowed head when he refused dessert. I suspected his self-imposed starvation diet wasn't going to be tolerated too much longer.

I retreated to the study while Stone was drafted for cleanup. I worked steadily without interruption, making notes about people to see and changes to investments until my eyes decided I was finished for the day. I powered down my laptop, which had a new password, and meandered down the hallway to my room, anticipating a good night's sleep.

Of course, that was before I caught a glimpse of him through the partially open door of his bedroom.

"Damn it, Stone! What is it with you and the fucking bed?"

I probably shouldn't have shouted quite so loudly, because he ended up in the corner of the room again, head down on his knees and shaking. Mercy and Hope both came running out of their rooms with their guns drawn, so my night was complete. I waved them both back with an apologetic shrug and went into the room to pick up the pieces.

"Come on. Let's go get some warm milk before we get into bed, okay? And this time, you have to eat at least two cookies or you'll sleep by yourself...on the bed, even if I have to tie you down myself."

. . .

"I understand you've managed to acquire something of mine."

Morgan's cool voice made it seem like he didn't care one way or another, but the finger that stroked across his upper lip said otherwise. I've learned through the years the importance of reading his body language. It's helped keep me alive when others have run afoul of his hidden agendas and paid the price.

I kept it casual, shrugging it off. "I guess Mercy thought I was getting bored." I waved my hand in her general direction, and she continued to pretend not to hear anything Morgan and I discussed while she stood against the wall a few feet away. "She brought me a new toy to play with."

"So...your tastes have changed?" One lifted eyebrow conveyed Morgan's skepticism and then he shrugged, dismissing the subject with one final caveat. "If you get tired of him, let me know. I have some clients who might be interested."

I could only hope that my face betrayed nothing of my relief as I brought up the prepared spreadsheets and projected them on the wall of Morgan's office. I ran through the quarter's profit and loss figures for the offshore shell corporations I managed for him, and proved my worth to Morgan once more as his greatest asset.

My crown was still secure...for a little while longer.

. . .

"How old are you?" I didn't hold out a lot of hope for an answer, but it was worth a try. A week of sharing the same bed hadn't supplied me with many insights into Stone's life or mind, although the warmth of his body next to mine, along with the quiet, even breathing close to my ear, was contributing to the best sleep I'd had in years. There had been a few whimpers from the depths of his dreams, but they were easily soothed with a few strokes of my hand along his back.

I wasn't interested in sex. He was too badly damaged for me to take advantage of him. He had offered, kept offering, but the thought of fucking him in return for room and board made me sick. There was something about Stone that spoke to me, that made me want to fix him...and I no longer wondered why Hope and Mercy had brought him home.

"Seventeen."

It was the first question about himself that he'd answered, the first chink in the wall.

Jade followed Emerald. When I found myself debating on whether to use Malachite or Peridot next, I finally had to admit to myself that green had become my favorite color.

. . .

"Hope said you might be able to help me with this?"

I looked up from my laptop at Stone, who was hovering in the doorway of my study. He was holding a textbook that I vaguely recognized, his finger holding his place as he waited. I waved him closer and held out my hand for the book, which turned out to be a calculus text. "Isn't this a little advanced? You shouldn't need it for the GED."

He shrugged and ducked his head shyly. "I like math."

I studied him for a few moments, noting the improvements made in the last few months. He'd put on muscle and flesh with the workouts and meals the two women forced on him and his skin had a healthy glow, except for where his necklace touched. His clothes fit, even flattered him, the colors selected during shopping expeditions favoring reds and blues, although I always preferred him in green. Sometimes I saw him smiling, and he even joked now and then with Hope and Mercy, but an air of melancholy still lingered about him.

There had been more than one discussion before my bodyguards convinced him to try for his GED. The most surprising part of it all was that Hope was joining him in study sessions so that she could take the test, too. They trekked to the public library and brought home what they needed and worked together daily, even quizzing each other during dinner. Based on what I overheard, they were more than ready, but neither had made the move to sign up yet.

Realizing that he was still waiting, I directed him to pull a chair around to sit next to me. "I'm not sure how good I'll be at explaining this. I taught myself."

"We saw your name in the front of the book, so we thought...."

"Yeah, I guess you could say I like math, too. At least, I used to. I'd teach you how to work with these spreadsheets, but I'm afraid that would be the end of the love affair for you."

His chuckle warmed me, and left me with the hope that someday I might even get a spontaneous hug from him, like he gave to Hope and Mercy sometimes. Oddly enough, even though we still slept together every night, he never initiated physical contact with me...and I never sought it outside the bedroom. That didn't stop me from wanting that small proof that I was...more.

At least he stopped offering sex as repayment after I refused him enough times.

I shook my head at my ridiculous sense of disappointment over that turn of events and began to explain differential equations.

. . .

"What did you want to be when you were growing up?" I could see his reflection in the window, knew that he was standing a few feet behind me as I mused over the lights of the city. I shrugged carelessly and didn't answer. "I had a telescope and I used to think about being an astronomer." He closed the few steps separating us, and I could feel his warmth an inch or two away. "Come on, Lex. You didn't just get out of bed one morning and decide you wanted to be Edge's financial advisor after you graduated."

While I was glad to hear the confidence behind his mockery, the words stung old wounds. "I never graduated...never finished high school." Snugging my hands deeper into my pockets, I rocked back on my heels and fought to keep my voice even. "I did get out of his bed one morning and decide I'd do anything I had to...so that I never had to get back into it."

The gentle hand on my shoulder startled me. While I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to shut out the memories, he closed the distance between us. "Lex? What...what are you saying?"

Keeping my eyes shut tight, I gritted out a terse explanation. "You weren't the first one in Edge's bed, and you won't be the last. You know what he likes."

"God, Lex. I'm...sorry."

"It's not your fault. My father sold me...his freak son...to Edge because he couldn't stand the sight of me. He's dead now, so I might as well blame the damn rocks that fell out of the sky, hell, better yet...blame the town we were visiting. Blame Smallville and creamed corn factories and scarecrows and...fuck...just fuck it." I pulled free from his tightening grip and tried to put some distance between us. He did let go, but didn't move away. Frustrated with the direction the conversation had taken, I shook my head and insisted, "Don't pay any attention to me, Stone. Self-pity is never very attractive."

I could feel him quivering next to me, a problem that had faded away with his bruises, but returned whenever he was distressed. "That's why you're bald? You were caught...in the meteor shower? In Smallville?"

"You sound like you know something about that. Part of your astronomy research?"

He had no answer for me, and his refusal to say anything more rankled. I felt as if we'd become no closer, despite the nights we spent together. Feeling tired, I decided it was time to go to bed. I said good night at his bedroom door and went on alone to my room, after suddenly concluding that I was holding him back by continuing to force my presence on him every night.

It was only a few minutes later that he knocked at my door, pushing it open slowly when I told him to come in. He stood there, a shadowy silhouette. "Lex, are you mad at me?" I could hear the uncertainty in his voice and almost gave in right then.

I didn't turn on the light and I didn't allow any emotion to creep into my voice. "No."

"Then why...why are you sleeping in here?"

"It was time. You're getting better, Stone. You don't need me there anymore. I'm giving you...the space to make your own decisions."

There was silence and then the shadow came closer. "I can sleep wherever I want?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. "That's what I just said."

"Okay."

I felt the covers shift and the mattress depress under his weight before his arms drew me close, my head settled on his chest and tucked under his chin in a reversal of our normal positions. My throat felt too thick to say anything, so I settled for rubbing his side and back the way I did to calm him in his dreams.

"You told me why you're bald."

"Mmmm...."

"I wear it because it lets me feel the pain...and so I won't forget."

There were so many questions that I wanted to ask, but none of them was important right then.

"Thank you for telling me, Stone."

It was enough...for now.

. . .

Waking up with a hard-on jammed along my thigh was something new, especially when it wasn't my own. At first, I thought that Stone was making another decision, but I quickly realized he was still asleep and his rubbing was strictly a normal physiological reaction, one that we hadn't dealt with before, despite Stone's offers.

Of course, my own cock was reacting as well, and the soft moan that escaped Stone's lips did nothing to convince it to do otherwise. I could feel his heat and hardness through the two thin layers of fabric that separated us, and it was almost impossible to hold back a groan. All those nights that we'd spent together without the complication of sex seemed to be coming to an end...and I wasn't sure I was ready for that...yet. I only had a few moments to worry before Stone jerked against me and a warm dampness seeped through, gluing silk to my skin. Stone rolled away with a mutter and dropped into a deeper sleep, while I slithered out from under the covers and headed for the shower.

Peeling my sticky bottoms away, I stepped under the pounding hot water, hissing when the spray hit my sensitized cock. I leaned against the tiles and closed my eyes, my hand cradling and then circling my erection a strong grip. It only took a few strokes before I lost it, curling over at the force of the spasms as I emptied myself with a groan. With an effort, I remained standing, even though I would have preferred to slide down the wall and give up thinking...for just a little while longer.

After I left Edge's, I never really cared about fucking someone else, never felt the need for anything but the basics that I took care of myself. I didn't even date. I couldn't risk someone being taken as a hostage or destroyed in some twisted scheme for revenge. Mercy, and then Hope, were different. It was their job to be with me, keep me safe, and I'd never wanted to compromise their positions with sex. Of course, the fact that I wasn't attracted to them that way helped.

Stone was a different story.

He had become part of my world before I knew it and, whether or not he stayed with me, he'd never be safe from Edge or Edge's competitors. As far as I was concerned, Stone was mine. I wanted him...all of him.

I just didn't know if he wanted me the same way.

When I came back out, Stone was gone, although the scent of his release lingered in the air and teased me with might-have-beens while I dressed for the day...and wondered about the night.

. . .

It had been just one more tragedy in a town plagued by them.

The time I've spent in the past researching investment opportunities means that it took me no time at all to follow up on the hints I received from Stone. A few minutes in a search engine and I was reading the online Smallville Ledger articles about the unexplained explosion and fire that had taken four lives...and wondering what the real story had been. According to all the reports, the destruction at the Kent Farm had been so complete that there were four empty coffins buried a few days later to represent Martha and Jonathan Kent, their adopted son...and his girlfriend, Lana Lang. The grainy photographs from high school yearbooks and a town festival revealed a happy family and a sweet young couple, four lives cruelly interrupted.

I knew that Stone was the only one who knew the true story.

I could only hope that someday he'd trust me enough to introduce me to Clark Kent.

. . .

A celebration ushered in Topaz. Hope passed her GED test with flying colors, and Stone asked if we could take her out to dinner. It was the first time he'd requested anything like that, and I was happy to comply, especially since he'd been disappointed in his own attempt at the test. It wasn't that he failed. The problem was that none of us had thought about the need for identification until he had to fill out the test application.

He wasn't ready to be someone yet.

There was no real change between us. We still spent the nights together in my bed, sleeping...and nothing else. If Stone woke up with a hard-on, he took care of it in his own shower, not against me. I did the same. It was all very platonic...and fucking frustrating. I knew I needed to wait until he could tell me the rest, until he could see me as someone to trust with everything. I didn't require his gratitude. I wanted his desire.

In the meantime, I decided to add a trip to the planetarium for a treat before dinner. I remembered what he'd told me, and I thought he might like to see the new show that had just opened. It was an unqualified success.

"Did you see that nebula, the one they called The Eye of God? It was so gorgeous." The four of us had become comfortable enough that even Hope had loosened up enough to contribute to the chatter.

Mercy agreed with a smile. "That was the Helix Nebula, right?"

"Yeah, and the supernovas were cool and I remembered a lot of the constellations from...." Stone's voice died away and his face lost some of his animation. I was sure that some memory had intruded and I resented the intrusion of his past on what had been a pleasant occasion. Mercy and Hope picked up on it immediately and began discussing some of the exhibits they'd seen and the conversation was soon back on course, although some of the sparkle never returned.

Catching the waiter's eye, I signaled him to bring the special dessert I'd ordered. I checked my watch and Stone smiled at me, his head cocked for a question. "Whose face is on your watch, Lex? I keep forgetting to ask." I took it off and handed it over for him to look at it more closely. He frowned for a moment, and then his face cleared as he recognized the silhouette. "Napoleon?"

I accepted the watch back and nodded. "It's a Napoleon franc. My mother had it made for me just before she died."

Mercy was curious. "Why Napoleon?"

"There's a painting of Napoleon's coronation that my mother always liked, at least she liked the idea behind it. Napoleon's mother couldn't make it to his coronation. But Napoleon told the painter, David, to paint her in as if she were there, right in the center. Even though she couldn't be there physically, he brought her into his life through sheer force of will, there to share in his greatness."

Green eyes gazed into mine and I could see the sympathy and understanding in the depths. Stone's tone was kind, gentle. "That's a good story. She must have loved you very much."

"She did. Sometimes, I wish...." I shook my head, refusing to let the memories drag me down. "My father sold it, but as soon as I had enough money, I tracked it down and bought it back."

The arrival of the five-layer death by chocolate cake interrupted any further discussion, but even during the fake arguments over the size of pieces and greediness, a general feeling of unease lingered. It wasn't until I looked up and spotted Morgan Edge watching us from a table across the restaurant that I understood.

The look on his face was revealing, his finger slipping over his upper lip in a move that sent a shudder through me. His eyes flickered toward Stone, who was laughing at something Mercy had said, and then back at me. I deliberately looked away, rejoining the festivities, and the next time I glanced in his direction, he was gone.

I sat there absently rubbing the face of the watch I'd lost and reclaimed...and wondered.

. . .

I wasn't ready for bed when we got back from the restaurant. I had too much to think about after Edge's unexpected appearance. My plans were going to need to be moved forward more quickly than I originally thought. Knowing what was involved, the changes I...no, we were facing left me jittery and restless.

Indulging in a drink probably was a bad choice on my part. I rarely allowed myself to lose my edge with alcohol or drugs...I needed to remain alert in my dealings with others to remain alive. Still, there were times when the false comfort and relaxation that I could find in a bottle seemed worth the risk.

I threw back two, and part of a third, before I ambled into the bedroom, yanking my tie loose and unbuttoning my shirt with impatient, fumbling fingers. I kicked free of my shoes and toed off my socks, wobbling a little with my balance off.

"Lex?" Stone was sitting up reading a popular fantasy novel he'd brought home from the library, the soft light by the bed highlighting the golden glow of his skin against the white of his t-shirt. "Are you all right?"

Letting my shirt drop carelessly to the floor, I unzipped my pants and shoved them down along with my boxers. Without a word, I crawled into bed, not bothering to don my usual bottoms. I flopped back onto my pillow and closed my eyes.

Stone closed his book and shut off the light before sliding down under the covers. He rolled over and reached out for me, but I didn't trust myself and I stayed rigid and apart. I wouldn't let the hurt in his voice soften me. "What's wrong? Did I...did I do something...?"

"Nothing. You didn't do anything."

"Why are you acting like this?"

I couldn't help feeling a little pride in Stone's persistence. The past few months had rebuilt his confidence enough to be able to disagree, offer opinions, and refuse to be ignored. However, my pride was mixed with annoyance and I bit out, "Not everything has to do with you, Stone. I'm...tired. Just go to sleep."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

You could say I was a classic example, the alcohol breaking down my carefully constructed barriers with ease. I rolled away from him, muttering, "It's too fucking late for that. It's already happened...you're in too deep for me to ever let you go." The warm hand placed in the center of my back grounded me and I couldn't help relaxing into for a moment before I jerked away. "Stop it, Stone!" I gentled my shout to a low growl, not wanting Hope or Mercy to come knocking on the door looking for trouble. "I told you that you don't owe me anything."

Soft lips against my shoulder rejected my protest, while soft words melted my resistance. "What if I want this, Lex? What if I need you? What then?"

I shuddered, racked with longing, and I rolled to my back, my hand rising to his face where it shimmered above me in the dim light from the window. "Then you have me...I'm yours."

I don't know what I expected from him, but I'm sure it wasn't a smile gleaming in the moonlight, eyes glittering with unvoiced emotion. After sitting up and skimming his clothes off with a few spare motions, he knelt next to me, his trembling hands removing the blanket and sheet that concealed me from his eager gaze. "Oh, Lex...." The reverent whisper did wonders for my ego, as did the delicate strokes over my touch-starved skin.

His lips followed his fingers in exploration, his tongue flickering out to taste the crease of my elbow, the inside of my wrist, the dip of my throat. Sensation washed over me, my movements languorous as if drugged by passion. My head spun from his kisses...he stole my breath away, and then my heart, pleading, "Can I...can you...inside me...please?"

I could only nod my agreement, words beyond me. He was gone for a moment, returning before the heat of his body had dissipated. I heard a crackle and felt the squeeze of the condom he'd found in the nightstand, and then he was above me, bearing down. I murmured a protest...it was too quick...he had to feel it, but his mouth stopped mine with quiet assurances. He licked away my words before I could speak, devoured my groans, tight heat and slick sweat and hardness against my belly that spread warmth with his moans and I was deep...and lost...and found.

I wanted him to rest there, cover me with his strength, but he pulled away with a murmur. Soft cotton, his shirt, cleaned us both...and I began to remember how to breathe as he lay back down next to me. Rolling onto my side, I faced him, my fingers tracing the lines of his face, his neck, his chest. "Does this hurt?" He shook his head, letting me continue to investigate what he usually kept hidden. The scar was barely visible in the faint light, but I could feel the raised edges, the smooth gnarls that formed it. I found myself shaking a little with barely suppressed rage as I imagined the pain buried in his past. My grim voice did little to disguise it. "You know that I want to kill whoever did this to you, don't you?"

His sigh was quiet, resigned. "You...can't. I...." I could feel his sudden resolve in his taut muscles gathering beneath my hand. "My name is Clark Kent...and I grew up in Smallville. That's how I knew about the meteorites. The thing is, you weren't the only person changed by them. Through the years, there were so many and...it was...I...." I could hear the tremor in his voice as he struggled to continue. "They weren't supposed to be there...my parents and...my girlfriend, Lana. She was working in town that day...and they were on their way to Metropolis for...their anniversary. I don't know why they came back...why Lana was with them." Nails scraped against the sheets as he scrabbled for control. "The explosion...I found out...I had to stop him! No one...else...was supposed to get hurt!"

"So, you somehow survived what happened...but you let everyone think you died, too."

I pulled him closer. Still, his nod against my shoulder was almost imperceptible. "I thought about turning myself in, but I was afraid of what he might do. I didn't...I didn't want anyone else to get hurt." A sob broke free and tore at my heart. "I kill...killed everyone I loved. I...can't...."

"Why did you set off the explosion? Who is he, Stone...uh...Clark?"

Hot tears that slid along my neck and shoulder were his only response, and I set the questions aside in favor of rubbing his back and side in soothing motions. Eventually, his breathing became soft and regular, his muscles lax in sleep...and I joined him in dreams.

I should have known he would be missing when I woke up. Alcohol never impaired my memory...just my judgment. It was all very clear in the cold, and sober, light of day.

What we had shared...had been his way of saying goodbye.

. . .

After the first day, I had to face the fact that finding Stone wasn't going to be as easy as I'd originally believed. Days passed, and no one reported seeing him on the street, he wasn't hanging out in his old haunts...and time was running out rapidly...for all of us. I had to conclude that he'd either left Metropolis...or Edge had him again.

That first morning, after I woke up alone, I'd called the two women into the study and explained what I'd been planning for the last few months. When Stone entered my life, I'd been compelled to take a hard look at what I'd become...and I hadn't liked what I'd seen. My feeble justifications for my actions had melted away when faced with a young man who had suffered, yet still tried to protect others with everything he had left to give. I'd begun pulling out of the business, transferring funds to untraceable accounts, gathering evidence against Edge, and erasing my tracks.

Stone's latest departure had forced me to accelerate the schedule. Suspecting the worst, I outlined our escape from Metropolis to go underground, where we would remain until Edge had been brought to justice using the information I intended to turn over to the proper authorities. I gave them both the option of leaving without disgrace, only asking that they not reveal my plans. After all, I knew that taking on Edge would be considered suicidal in most circles.

Of course, they'd stayed...after making it clear how stupid I had been for thinking there was ever any question. Then they'd traded off searching for Stone, neither willing to leave me alone as I finalized the preparations for our departure.

Mercy finally brought back a tip she'd received from a frightened hooker who'd been working the bus terminal the day Stone left. She remembered seeing a dark-haired young man being dragged away by two of Edge's men. She'd also claimed that he'd looked drunk or drugged...and my heart sank at the thought of Stone under Edge's control again.

Once we were sure Edge was involved, finding where Stone was being kept was a matter of checking all of Edge's usual locations...again. In less than a day, we'd pinpointed the most likely possibility and began working out some way to make sure he was actually there...without alerting Edge's guards.

It suddenly got simpler when I received a phone call from Toby. "Lex? Thought you'd like to know I just got back from Edge's place at Hobb's River. They called me in to take care of a broken arm and dislocated shoulder. Lex...it was Stone...and he really looks bad."

I thanked Toby for the information, hung up, and then just barely stopped myself from imbedding the cell phone in the nearest wall. It was going to be fucking hard not to kill Edge the next time I saw him. I wanted to storm the castle, but was resigned to the need for intrigue against the king and his court.

It would be my last act as the crown prince.

I was abdicating.

. . .

Sleep eluded me. I'd grown too accustomed to spending each night with another body next to mine. I missed the shared warmth, the quiet breathing, the shift and slide against skin and soft cloth as positions adjusted and settled into comfort. When I finally succumbed to exhaustion, I walked a tightrope between horror and erotica in my restless dreams. Stone's mouth bestowed kisses until I could taste the blood from torn lips, skin mottling beneath my fingers from unseen blows. Morgan's face, granite under gray-blond, scowled and his thin lips sneered and demanded tribute in broken bones. Mercy's hand shook me free from the nightmares, and I resigned myself to spending one more night, the final one in the penthouse, locked in my study with my laptop and files.

Mercy and Hope had packed two nondescript sedans with the items we would take with us into exile. I had completed the transfers, and set up the 'dead man' files for delivery. As the sun came up, I went through the extraction scenario a final time and could find nothing missing. In a few short hours, we would set off for a meeting with Edge on the other side of town...that we wouldn't make.

After that, it was just a matter of vanishing.

. . .

My face got us in the door. Guns and attitude did the rest.

The sight of Stone handcuffed to the bed hit me hard. Only one wrist required the restraint, since a cast and sling effectively immobilized the other arm. His once-handsome features had receded beneath bruises and cuts, one eye swollen shut. His breathing rasped, which was understandable with the livid rope burn visible around his throat. It took an effort, but I remained silent as I approached the bed, unwilling to chance an alarm being raised, even this late in our rescue mission.

Placing my hand gently over his torn lips, I bent down and whispered next to his ear, "Stone, we're here." One green eye half-opened and looked around wildly until it focused on my face. Fortunately, he was conscious enough to understand that he needed to stay quiet. The key ring Mercy had given me made short work of the handcuffs, and Stone lowered his arm with a sigh of relief. His eye closed in obvious fatigue and pain, and I frowned in sympathy as I forced myself to shake him back into a state where I could get him up and moving. "Come one, you can sleep later, Stone. We have to go. You have to listen to me and sit up. Now."

As he managed to move into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress, Hope appeared in the doorway, making no attempt to be quiet, her gun in hand...ready to fire at will. "Hurry up. We've taken care of all the guards." Her normally stoic face cracked a little when she saw the condition Stone was in, and then it hardened again with fresh resolve. When she started forward to help, I waved her away, needing her to stay focused in case anyone else showed up unexpectedly. We had a limited amount of time before Edge would figure out that we weren't coming...and what our absence meant.

After that, all bets were off.

Slinging Stone's good arm over my shoulder, I dragged him to his feet and began force