I watched, horrified, as Ezra & Lex struggle against each other. Their eyes locked, sparks flew. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off that needle. I knew if it even nicked Ezra’s skin, it would mean a slow deterioration that could send even the strongest begging for a quicker end.
Lex at one point had Ezra against a wall, pushing his wrist ever closer to Ezra’s bare arm. I barely held back another scream, but just barely.
“So, do you think your demise at my hands will bear heavily on my conscience?” Lex hissed tauntingly to Ezra’s struggling face. “No, not a bit,” he continued bitterly. “Like I said, as far as I’m concerned, you are no family of mine.”
That did it for Ezra. With a great herculean effort, he threw Lex & the needle to the floor.
In the final moments of the struggle, Lex’s syringe had found itself, to his horror, in his own beefy neck. His breathing became audibly shallow.
Ezra stood over him, glaring.
“Please,” he pleaded weakly, “please, I’m your uncle…”
“I’m sorry,” Ezra said resolutely, reaching down, “but I’m afraid I haven’t, & won’t, consider you family.”
He depressed the plunger.
A few eternally tense moments.
The Commissioner lay still.