Keysmith [NOT FANFICTION] ✓completed

(E)motive

Lex had been vaguely aware of the figure standing just outside his cell for a while now, but he pretended not to have noticed. He knew for a fact that it wasn't Levi-- the silhouette was too bulky and too tall for a teenage boy. It also wasn't either of the guards-- he could hear them chatting on the other side of the basement prison.

He had a sneaking suspicions of who it was, though, and that made him all the more determined to ignore the silent watcher.

It had been two days since Levi's visit-- Lex knew that because his captors had been kind enough to bring him bread for breakfast and supper, as well as a jug of lukewarm water that tasted vaguely like plastic. He wasn't quite sure why he hadn't been shipped off to Lowlands Security Prison yet, although he'd heard vague rumours about court cases and BRSS regulations. The name Jordan Rivers was frequently mentioned, which worried Lex slightly-- could Joey have been arrested because the BRSS suspected him to be some secret ally of Lex's? In that case he felt sorry for his ex-colleague: after all, Joey was just a keeper, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Unless the fly was bothering Red, of course.

Levi had mentioned Joey's name too, during their short conversation. Had he somehow succeeded in getting Jordan involved in the whole mess?

Oh Levi, why couldn't you just have stayed in Highcrest? You've only brought people into danger, including yourself.

Lex shifted his position so that he was lying on his back, and let out a sigh. At least Levi would've left, now that he'd scared him off. A small part of him still regretted his drastic actions, but it was the only thing he could've done to keep Levi safe. 

"Oh, so you are alive? I was starting to wonder."

There was an unmistakable sarcasm to the silhouette's words as he commented on Lex's sigh, his voice deep and almost spiteful.

"Sarcasm really doesn't suit you, brother," Lex replied, looking up at the ceiling.

"Let's cut to the chase then, shall we?" Marshall suggested.

"Are you telling me you didn't come just to stare at me like some creep? I underestimated you, Martial Arts."

"I want a real answer this time, Lex."

Lex knew exactly what Marshall meant, but he kept his mouth closed nonetheless.

"Lex. I'm serious. I want answers."

The last time the London brothers had been in a similar scenario (Lex behind bars, refusing to speak, and Marshall standing on the other side of the lock) Marshall had only asked one question:

"Why?"

To which Lex had answered with a simple "you know why."

This time around, Marshall wasn't letting the topic go as easily.

"Lex, please. I don't know why, and I want you to tell me. I want to understand."

There was a pleading undertone in Marshall's voice --an undertone only a handful of people had ever been able to get out of him-- and Lex sighed, his shoulders sagging.

"You do know why, Marshall," he answered softly, "or at least, you should."

Marshall gazed at him with an expression suspended between puzzled and desperate.

"Mother wouldn't have wanted this, you know that," he stated after a moment's pause.

Lex cringed, turning his gaze to the back wall so Marshall couldn't read his expression.