Twelve years since the day the meteors came down -- Lex's body always remembers. Pamela begs him to stay below, safe in their lead-lined bunkers, but Lex wants to taste air.
Lionel's three months dead; only he told Lex what to do.
Precious moments of too-bright-green-fresh-blue, then shadow, a hand bruising his neck. Pinned by a tall boy with wild dark hair and a body that's an invitation to sin. "Pretty," it says.
The alien implores the sky. "Father," it calls, "can I keep him?"