Archive of Our Own ^beta

                                                                                               Artwork by the Awesome Tallihensia

Bourbon on the Rocks

Author: SaitouLover (Thomp284)

It was well past two on Thursday morning when Lex finally shut his laptop. His office was quiet, now that the clicking of his keyboard had stopped, and he relaxed in his chair. He let his head fall back, and rubbed at his face tiredly, exhaustion from a week of 18-hour work days catching up with him. He smirked briefly as a subdued feeling of victory washed over him, his neck cracking as he rolled his head.

The contract for the takeover was finally finished, and now all he had to do was sit back and wait for the CEO to start begging for forgiveness. Lex smirked and tapped his fingers on his closed computer. The weak man had been bold enough to make threats, empty as they were, and Luthors had never responded well to intimidation tactics.

The desktop computer beeped, and he looked at it unenthusiastically, wanting to go home and sleep. The screensaver disappeared as he pulled up his mail to view the new message. It was from Hedgers, the manager who kept the Smallville quarry running efficiently.  What most people didn't know was that that efficiency was directed toward the mining of kryptonite and its export to Metropolis, where it was stored to be used later against Superman.

That alone was enough to bring that flying freak to mind, and Lex sneered as he clicked the email open. As he read through it, his face darkened and his prosthetic hand creaked as it fisted. The hand opened, and he forced himself to click calmly on the video attachment Hedgers had included.

The cameras captured the quarry’s details perfectly: the gorge containing buried meteor rocks, unused excavation equipment sitting quietly, lead-lined trucks that would soon be moving back and forth from Smallville to Metropolis. The few miners that worked third shift were on the edges of the screen, working their way through the current dig site. A specially engineered lead-lined box was sitting on the ground, directly in view of the camera lens, and Lex could see what he guessed was roughly a half pound of freshly mined kryptonite inside it.

As he watched the security feed, the kryptonite vanished into thin air, no clue as to what happened. Hedgers’ email had sounded panicked, the man not understanding how it could have occurred. There was no time lapse in the video, none of the workers were anywhere near the rocks, and the manager had been in his office. This singular breach of security was troublesome, and Lex was not happy. Frowning, he saved the video and deleted the email, debating whether or not to fire the man for incompetence. It was obvious from previous visits to the site that Hedgers took every precaution with guarding the rocks, so if it was not ineptitude, how did they disappear? He was sure the idiot wasn’t stealing them; the manager understood what happened when someone betrayed Lex Luthor.

His watch beeped 3:00am, and he sighed. He rolled the chair back, and stood slowly before packing his laptop away and heading for the penthouse’s elevator. His cell phone rang just as the metal doors slid open, and Lex growled, ready to kill the person on the other end.

“What?” he snapped angrily as he entered the elevator. He pushed the button for the penthouse and narrowed his eyes as the other person remained quiet. “I swear to God, if you don’t stop wasting my time…”

“You know…” The voice was breathy, and Lex frowned, not recognizing it. “Even though you’re a genius, you’re not very smart.”

His body tensed, and he scowled at his reflection. “Superman.”

“Hey, Lex.”

“Where did you get this number?” His prosthetic fingers twitched around the phone, and he was forced to switch hands so as not to crush it.

“Oh, here and there.” The other man chuckled, and Lex glared hatefully at nothing in particular.

“Go to hell, Superfreak.” His thumb moved to the disconnect button, but stopped at the man’s reply.

“Already there, Lex.”

“I doubt that.”

“I know you do.”

A brief spark of surprise flared at the way the alien said that, but he pushed it down as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He made his way into the living room and dropped his briefcase over the back of the couch, undoing his tie with the now-free hand. He padded down the hallway to his bedroom and toed the door open, dropping the constricting strip of cloth as he did so.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Nothing much; I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You heard it today.”

A press conference on LexCorp’s latest breakthrough had been held at one o’clock that afternoon, and Perry White had sent Lane and Kent to cover it. He had seen the two in the rear of the hall, the bitch shoving at the reporters blocking her path and pulling on her partner’s suit jacket. Kent had shaken himself free of her grip in order to stay in the very back, hunched over in that ridiculous manner of his and avoiding the majority of the conference. Lane had not been pleased.

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

Lex heard the faint but distinct clink of ice against glass and he frowned. “You’re drunk.”

A breathy chuckle sounded from the other line, and the business mogul heard Superman swallow whatever was in the glass. “I am.”

“You can’t get drunk.” After two years of constant observation -- what some would call stalking -- Lex had been sure that getting drunk was impossible for the invulnerable alien.

“Given the right ingredients, I can.”

“How pitiful: the great Superman, at home getting drunk,” he sneered.

“Not at home,” the other admitted with a light air that reminded Lex of easy conversations over a pool table. “My home’s gone.”

Lex had slipped his shirt off while Kent spoke, throwing it onto a chair, and began to work on his belt. He gritted his teeth as he was reminded of the other male’s otherworldly origins, and chucked the belt at the closet door. “What do you want, Superman?”

The alien was quiet, but Lex heard the glass swishing, ice knocking against the sides as Kent took another drink. He felt his rage building and clenched his free fist, ready to hang up, but the younger man’s slurred response echoed over the line before Lex could work up the anger to press the end button.

“’m not Superman,”

“Oh for the love of… don’t give me that crap! I know you’re that fucking freak!”

“… freak? I guess I am, aren’t I?” There was more silence. “Do you remember that first time, Lex?”

Lex sighed, frustrated. “What?”

“The first time you woke up and realized you were a freak?”

He felt the instinctive hurt but pushed it aside; people called him worse on a daily basis.

“I remember my first time,” Kent continued in an increasingly slurred tone.

Lex growled and hung up. He tossed the phone onto his nightstand and stepped out of his trousers, then pulled on his cotton pajama pants. The sheets were pulled back and the light turned off before he slipped into bed.  Once the soft pillows were beneath his head, his eyelids closed.

When the annoying piece of plastic rang again a minute later, his grey eyes snapped open and he snarled. His hand shot out and grabbed the cell phone, ready to chuck it across the room.  Before he could do so, however, curiosity won over his anger; sighing, he gave in and answered it instead. He held the phone to his ear and stared up at the ceiling, eyes drooped in exhaustion.

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” The man was clearly drunk now, his words slurring into a complex mess of sound that Lex had difficulty translating.

“What do you want?” he asked resignedly.

“What I want?” Kent was quiet for a moment. “I want a lot of things. Most of them aren’t going to happen, though, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Why are you calling me? We’re not friends, Superman.”

“Told you, not Superman anymore.”

Lex frowned and thought about that. It had been strange when Superman disappeared from Metropolis several months ago. The Daily Planet had given the excuse of ‘issues to attend to in another solar system’, and if Lex hadn’t known who the alien really was, he would have believed them. But he did know, so when Kent continued to show up for work every day but there was still no Superman, he grew suspicious. Then, a month and a half ago, the spandex wearing freak reappeared, if only to harass Lex. The flying menace never made the papers, so he knew no one was aware that Superman had returned from his ‘issues in another solar system’, and the CEO’s suspicions rose again.

“I find that difficult to believe.” Lex finally said.

“I know.”

He watched the light on his ceiling flicker as a plane flew in front of the moon, and waited for the other man to continue his drunken dialog. He might as well listen to what the other had to say; it seemed like the menace would keep calling if he didn’t.

“You’re not very smart.”

“Compared to whom?” he snorted. “You?”

“Even I know when someone’s giving me opening after opening, Lex.”

Lex sneered. “I don’t need your fucking lectures, Superman. I’m not going to change. I’m not going to take those fucking second chances of yours.”

“I guessed that, which is why I’ve given up hoping that you’d be willing to do it.”

Lex felt long-buried hurt rise and his chest hitched as he listened to the swirl of alcohol on the other end of the phone. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t cared about your opinion in a long time.”

“Hm. Doesn’t matter. I don’t care anymore. You do whatever you want; Superman won’t be there to lecture you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. Superman’s gone. I’m not going to be him anymore.”

Lex snorted and turned onto his side, giving a gusty and drawn-out yawn as he did so. His eyes drooped and he began to fall asleep, listening to Kent’s unsteady breathing.

“Lex?”

“Hm?” he mumbled.

“What’s something I could do to make you happy?”

“Die?”

“Dying doesn’t count.”

Lex nuzzled the pillow that was under his cheek. He fumbled for the edge of the sheet that rested on his hip and pulled it up over his shoulder, wanting to end this surreal and annoying conversation.

“Really, what can I do?”

He stayed quiet as he thought about it. Lex opened his eyes and gazed out the windows onto the city below. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

The other man’s glass stilled its swirling, and he heard a sharp intake of breath and knew that Kent would never give him what he wanted. The silence grew until Lex yawned once again and went to hang up.

“Okay… okay. I can do that.”

The rushed agreement froze Lex’s finger over the red button, and his eyes opened, sleep fading quickly. He kept still, afraid that any movement would make the other change his mind. Both men were quiet, their breaths mingling over phone static.

“I was scared,” Kent began. “One day I was normal and the next, a freak. I got hit by a fucking car and, wham, nothing happened.”

Lex’s breath caught at the seemingly easy admission. Kent had avoided discussing anything to do with their first meeting like the plague, going so far as to end their friendship because Lex wouldn’t stop digging. The way the confession had rolled off the drunken tongue, effortless and calm, frustrated him like he hadn’t been in years.

“My parents scared the Jesus out of me. ‘You can’t tell anyone, Clark. They’ll take you away from us.’ ‘You can’t let anyone know. Do you know what they’ll do to you?’”

Lex winced at the bitterness in Kent’s words, but could easily picture Martha and Jonathan saying them. Sitting at the kitchen table, their equally stern and fearful looks boring into a young Clark Kent until the frightened boy agreed to keep his secret.

“Dad warned me about you. Said Luthors were bad news and there wasn’t anything good about them. He was so adamant that you were evil, but then you would look at me like I was a fucking goddamn miracle and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hate you like Dad could. I couldn’t see what he did.”

Lex’s chest suddenly hurt and he clutched at the sheets beneath him.

“We were friends. You understood me better than anyone else. I couldn’t… it was never…” The younger man sighed in frustration, perhaps looking for the right words.

He could hear the glass clink several times in the distance before Kent picked back up.

“You never answered my question from before. Do you remember the first time?”

Lex closed his eyes and, even though he knew the other couldn’t see him, nodded yes.

“The real reason I couldn’t tell you wasn’t because of my dad, or because I didn’t trust you, or that you were doing some seriously messed-up stuff. I couldn’t tell you because…” The silence dragged on, and Clark took a deep breath and let it out again.

When the reporter next spoke, it sounded to Lex as if he were forcing himself to continue. The words came out in a detached voice that sounded somehow off to the billionaire. Kent’s words had always betrayed him, full of whatever emotion he was feeling at that moment: anger, giddiness, sorrow, hurt. To hear only emptiness now was a novel experience, and, Lex realized, was not one he enjoyed.

“If you knew, then everything would be that much more real. I would wake up and realize just how much of a freak I actually was. You would have hated me, Lex,… and I would have been alone. I didn’t want to accept that. I tried so hard to be normal… something my parents wouldn’t have to hide. I was a… a stupid scared kid who didn’t know who to go to: …my parents, who raised me… despite the fact that I was a… an abomination… or my best friend… who protected and believed in me.”

Lex's heart was pounding as Clark trailed off.  He waited for more, but more never came.

“Clark?” He cursed himself for the weakness in his voice.

“Want to know a secret, Lex?”

Lex nodded, unable to mar with words the surreal mood that had developed during the course of the strange conversation.

“I felt empty for a long time.” Clark’s drunken giggles were harsh and so very, very wrong to Lex’s ears. “Not so empty now, though.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Don’t know. Three… four?”

“Glasses?” Lex asked incredulously, finding it difficult to believe that a mere four glasses of alcohol could put Superman under the table.

“No, stupid… bottles. Wouldn’t work with glasses.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Mm. I’m tired, Lex.”

“Then you should probably shut up and stop bothering me.” He rolled his eyes and tried to force venom into his tone, but it didn’t work and they both knew it.

“Hey, Lex?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

Lex closed his eyes and thought about it. Clark had finally told him the truth, but he knew that his openness was only a temporary thing, tomorrow he would be right back to lying to Lex’s face about everything that ever really mattered. This would never, could never, happen again. He had gone so long without Clark, actively hating him these past years, that there could be no true reconciliation. So what was the harm in giving his one-time friend something he wanted?

“Yeah,” he said simply.

“Good.” Clark’s smile could be heard over the phone, and Lex felt his heartache worsen. “’m tired, so I’m going to hang up now.”

Lex snorted at the innocent tone but nodded nonetheless.

“Bye, Lex.” The other man hesitated before adding, “I really wish we would have stayed friends. You wouldn't have let this happen if you had been here.”

Lex frowned, but didn’t bother to tell him that if they had still been friends, he would have been right there with Clark getting drunk. “Don’t stay at the bar too long. Knowing you, you’ll probably get arrested.”

“Hm, not at a bar.”

“Where are you, then?”

“Hm. I’m really tired, so I’m gonna go now. I really want to go home, Lex, I miss it. But I guess it hasn’t been my home in a long time. Bye, Lex.”

With that, Clark hung up and Lex was left alone in his bedroom. The billionaire looked at his phone for a long time before placing it on the nightstand. He pulled the covers up and lay there, watching it, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He picked it up to call Clark, but found it wasn’t the reporter’s number that he dialed.

“Hello?” Mercy sounded tired. “Mr. Luthor? What is it?”

“Mercy.” He wet his lips. “I need… I need you to go over to Clark Kent’s apartment.”

“Kent’s apartment?”

Lex wanted to laugh at her tone, but couldn’t; he was too drained from listening to his ex-friend. “Yes. Please go now.”

“Why?”

“Just go. Kent isn’t there, so there won’t be any problems.”

“Sir, what am I doing?”

“Mercy.” Lex’s tone was warning.

Mercy sighed, but he heard sheets rustle as she got up from her bed. “Yes, sir. I’ll go now.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mercy hung up, and Lex laid the phone back down. He stared at it for a minute before rolling over onto his other side, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

His phone rang at 4:02am, and he blearily groped for it, knocking his watch off the nightstand as he did so. He didn’t even check the caller id before pressing it to his ear and answering.

“’llo?” he slurred.

“Sir.” Mercy’s voice was tight. “I’m at Mr. Kent’s apartment. You need to come over.”

“What?”

“Sir, you need to come, right now.”

She sounded odd, and Lex immediately knew something was wrong. He sat up and turned on the light, wincing as it stung his eyes. His clothes from the day before were still out, so he stripped off his pajamas and then slipped the pants on, grabbing the shirt as he made his way to his dresser.

He stuffed haphazardly dressed feet into shoes, and the car keys practically flew into his hand as he jogged towards the elevator.

“What happened?” he asked her, the cell phone cradled between shoulder and cheek as he fastened his watch.

“Sir, I’d rather not say until…”

“Mercy,” he said sternly through his growing unease, and she sighed.

“Mr. Kent was here when I arrived.”

Lex knew that Mercy’s breaking in would have caused a fight, so he waited for her description of the confrontation. When she hesitated before forcing herself to continue, he felt his stomach drop.

“He’s on the bathroom floor.” A heavy pause. “It appears that he ingested a large amount of Kryptonite.”

“Given the right ingredients, I can.”

“Dying doesn’t count.”

“Not so empty now, though.”

 “Bye, Lex.”

Lex remembered the video of the kryptonite in Smallville vanishing, and his breath left him as he caught the wall, swaying dangerously. A pained sound escaped his throat and echoed in the elevator as his knees threatened to buckle. He straightened, put the phone back up to his ear and forced himself to ask Mercy the one question he had never thought he’d ask.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes, a weak and irregular pulse, but still there.” The ‘for now’ was left unsaid.

“Call Dr. Prescott. I want him there by the time I arrive.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hung up the phone and counted floors as he descended into the parking garage, clenching trembling hands.

Mercy was at the door before he reached it. She side-stepped and allowed him access before closing and locking it, pointing toward the bathroom.  He quickly made his way in that direction, and had to fight the rolling of his stomach when he saw the condition the room was in.

Small articles like a toothbrush and razors were scattered about, as if they had been knocked off the sink in a struggle. But the thing that made Lex really sick was Clark.

The kneeling doctor was blocking part of his view, but he could see that Clark was still lying on the floor.  Beside him was a large puddle of vomit filled with kryptonite stone. Observing the faintly-glowing veins that stood out from Clark's pale skin, Lex concluded there must still be rocks in him.

“He has kryptonite in his stomach,” he said unevenly, trying to reign in his panic. The doctor turned to him, and Lex lost it when he saw the blood, the back of his hand flying up to press against his mouth.

Clark’s lower half was covered in it. His shirt and pants were soaked, and the red liquid had spilled onto the cheap linoleum floor to pool around his body. Lex felt himself begin to tremble, and the doctor noticed his growing distress.

The older man motioned for Mercy to get Lex out of the room, and she tugged at his arm until he backed up, away from the horror in the bathroom.

“The rocks…” he began again, but Mercy cut him off with a gentle admonishment.

“He knows, Mr. Luthor. Let him do his job.” She helped him over to Clark’s couch and sat him down.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked down at him questioningly. “Don’t leave him alone.”

Mercy nodded and went back to watch over the doctor.

Lex examined the apartment, and froze as he saw the tumbler and empty bottles of bourbon on the coffee table. The green kryptonite clinked against the side as he lifted the glass and his eyes fell to the bottles. There was kryptonite in those as well. The only bottle with any liquid left had rocks and loose powder floating in it, and his nausea finally won.

He threw up in a nearby trashcan, and when the gagging was over, pure rage coursed through him. He picked up the glass and threw it against the far wall, relishing the sound as it shattered. He collapsed onto the couch and cradled his head in his hands.

It was over two hours before there was any sign of activity besides Mercy’s ferrying of the kryptonite. The doctor emerged, his clothes soaked with blood -- Clark’s blood, Lex thought despairingly -- and looked at him with a distracted gaze.

Lex stood and crossed over to him, stopping short of grabbing the man.

“Well?” he asked forcefully. The doctor shook himself free of his thoughts and his lips thinned as he considered his words carefully.

“He’ll live, I think.”

“You think?”

“Yes, well. I’m not accustomed to his kind.”

Lex’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he stepped even closer to the doctor, his words low and even and filled with malevolence. “Is that going to be a problem?”

The doctor’s eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. “No! I just meant that his body might react differently to the trauma than ours would. He’s lost a lot of blood and I honestly don’t know if his healing abilities can fix it quickly enough.”

Lex glared but nodded at the man’s words. He looked back at the bathroom and waited for Mercy to exit. He frowned when she didn’t, and moved to step around the older man, but Prescott stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“She’s cleaning him up. You shouldn’t go in there.” When it looked as if Lex would ignore this admonishment, the doctor reiterated, “You can’t go in there.”

Lex looked at the man incredulously, but gave in under the stern look he got in response. He glanced around, unsure of what to do, and Prescott sighed.

“Go put clean sheets on the bed. We can’t move him far, not in this condition.”

It was past seven in the morning when Mercy and the doctor laid Clark down in the bed, and Lex couldn’t help but notice the state the other man was in. The once-hulking alien was now thin and gaunt, his mass seemingly shrunken and withered. His impressive height no longer gave the image of strength, but only served to exaggerate his weight loss. Clark no longer dwarfed the bed, his deteriorated form actually appearing small for the first time since Lex had known him. He watched the shallow but steady rise and fall of the man's chest for awhile until Prescott motioned to him, and he stumbled once from exhaustion before making it to the man’s side.

“You should go home, Mr. Luthor.”

“No,” he said fiercely.

“Mr. Luthor…”

“No.”

The doctor sighed but conceded to the younger man’s stubbornness. “Fine, but go sleep on the couch. You’re no help like this. I’ll call Mr. Kent’s work and give them a general excuse.”

Lex glared, but Mercy’s cajoling got him back into the living room and onto the couch. She dropped a cover onto his stomach and promised to stay with Clark at all times, so he could go ahead and rest. He scowled but nodded tiredly, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. He fell asleep to a heated discussion between Mercy and Prescott, and made a note to ask what they were arguing about when he woke.

Mercy shook him awake and he bolted upright, looking at her with mild panic.

“Clark? Is he… did something?”

She shook her head and frowned at him. “You were having a nightmare.”

Lex rubbed his face tiredly and shuddered as a faint memory of blood and screaming trickled back. He looked at the clock on the wall -- 1:25pm. The couch dipped as he stood up; the cover dragged along with him as he made his way to Clark's bedroom, and Lex didn't even care that it might look a little like a security blanket. Clark was still unconscious, but his breathing was better. There was moisture coming off him, and Lex could see that the hand towel on his forehead was soaked through with greenish sweat.

“The doctor said he had to work the fine powder out of his system himself.”

Lex looked around. “And where is Doctor Prescott?”

“He had to go to his office.”

Lex whirled around and hissed at her, “You let him leave?! How could you be so stupid?”

Mercy placed a hand on her employer’s shoulder and squeezed. When he was calmer and would listen to what she had to say, she explained the situation.

“We had a long conversation, Lex. He’s not going to cause any problems. He needed to get some things done at work and then he’ll be back. I’m tracking him and his phone, car, computers, and any other form of communication. He’ll be back.”

With a growl, Lex turned from her, toward Clark.  Hesitantly he reached out to touch a clammy hand. In the ensuing quiet, he could hear Mercy shift slightly; undoubtedly she was uncomfortable with the remorse her boss was showing towards his arch-nemesis.

“He should be fine now. It’ll take a little time, but he’ll be back to bothering you within the week.”

Lex shook his head and picked the hand up, holding it gingerly in his. “He won’t be fine.” He looked at her over his shoulder and squeezed Clark’s hand. “He called me last night. He was drunk.”

Mercy frowned. “He can’t get drunk.”

She would know, Lex thought. Mercy Graves was possibly the only human being on this planet that knew as much about Clark Kent as Lex Luthor. She had spied on the superhero for her employer long enough by now to know such things

“He can if he laces it with kryptonite.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Something’s been wrong with him for months, Mercy. I noticed something off but I didn’t care. He was suicidal. He needed me and I didn’t realize it.”

“You were enemies. Why would you rush over to stop him if you knew?”

Lex shook his head roughly. “He’s been at it for months, Mercy, giving me chance after chance to do it, to kill him. But I didn’t, and so he decided to do it himself.”

He squeezed the slack hand again.

“God. He called last night. Said he wanted to hear my voice. Asked what he could do to…” His throat tightened “…what he could do to make me happy.” He laughed bitterly.

“I told him to die. You know what he told me? ‘Dying doesn’t count.’ It didn’t count because he was already doing it!”

Lex heard Mercy back out of the room, and could only imagine what she was thinking of him right then. Though, he had an idea of what it could be: the great Lex Luthor, remote businessman and hateful enemy, hurting because Clark Kent, his arch-nemesis, was suffering. No doubt that it was a mortifying scene to watch, and Lex had no wish to ever see how truly low he was in this instant.

He was glad that she decided to give him time alone with Clark. She was probably on her phone, talking to only God knew who, making some type of arrangements. If nothing else, he thought with a drained smirk, she was skilled in anticipating Lex Luthor’s needs.

For the next several hours, Lex sat beside Clark's bed, holding the younger man’s hand and wiping away the poisoned sweat, swamped with guilt.

He felt guilty about abandoning Clark, for not trying harder, not confronting him about his secrets in a better way. Guilt for not seeing the other’s pain, guilt for not understanding, guilt for hating his only friend… on and on the reasons came, falling on his shoulders and each weighing more than the previous. But most of all, he felt crushing guilt for not noticing how bad things had become.

He had known something was wrong when Superman stopped appearing. Clark had a martyr complex as wide as the Pacific; there was no way he could simply stop saving the day. Lex had spent two months tracking him after that, trying to discover whatever the alien was planning, and the man’s odd behavior had only intensified his suspicions.

It had started after a mission gone wrong. Lex assumed Clark had been tortured, since the wounds were visible in papers the next day, but there hadn’t been any surveillance cameras for Lex to hack into to confirm it. That the wounds remained for almost 24 hours instead of healing immediately was a major indicator of kryptonite usage. After that, the man had become withdrawn, keeping to himself at the Daily Planet and doing only the minimum amount of work required.

He would finish at the paper and then head home, refusing to leave the confines of his small apartment until morning. There had even been times when Mercy forwarded Lex footage of Lane screaming at her partner through his door, pounding on it and pulling at the handle. Clark hadn’t answered the first time or any other time after that, and now their friendship, if it could be called that, was in tatters. No one wanted to work with Lane, not now that her partner wanted nothing to do with her.

But after two months of nothing but normal human behavior, Lex had realized that it wasn’t all part of some devious plot of Superman’s. He had been vastly disappointed, but, seeing there would be no interference from his self-appointed conscience, set thoughts of his enemy aside and focused instead on his business and labs.

So, when Superman returned two weeks after Lex had given up, and, rather than saving people as he usually did, seemed solely interested in destroying Luthor property and causing millions of dollars in damage, Lex had become furious and attacked mercilessly, often with kryptonite. Superman’s carefully calculated lectures and disapproving looks had only fueled his rage.

Now, looking down at Clark’s limp form, he knew that he had been stupid. Superman hadn’t come back to save the day; he’d come back to die.

Lex placed a freshly-soaked towel on his ex-friend’s forehead and got up to rinse the kryptonite-laced water out of the bowl.

Prescott returned at 6:18pm. Lex had given him until 6:30 before he planned on sending someone to kill him and destroy any possible evidence.

As the doctor stepped past Mercy into the living room, he rolled his eyes at the dark look Lex shot him, and incongruously held up a couple of take-out bags.

“I doubted you would have gone for food, and Ms. Graves wouldn’t have left you by yourself. So I stopped to get some.” He set down all the bags he was carrying -- medical and fast food -- on the coffee table. “So, how is our patient doing?”

“He isn’t sweating as heavily anymore, and what there is isn’t green.”

The doctor nodded, pleased with the news, and went to check on the young man himself. After examining eyes and veins for green kryptonite and taking his pulse, weathered hands turned Clark's head from one side to the other and felt along his neck. Lex watched as he pushed against his stomach and frowned.

“What are you looking for? I thought you got all the rocks.”

Prescott’s hands halted and he stared at Clark’s skin for a moment before restarting their movements. Lex saw Mercy, who was standing off to the side, stiffen and he felt his suspicion rapidly rise. His eyes narrowed and he looked at his bodyguard’s closed expression angrily, knowing they were hiding something from him.

“There was internal damage,” the doctor tried to explain.

“Really?” he asked silkily. Lex bared his teeth in a false smile, and Mercy twitched, knowing full well her employer didn’t believe the doctor’s incomplete answer.

The other man stood straight and, after a deep breath, turned to face Lex resolutely. “Yes. There was internal damage, but I cannot explain it to you without his consent. I don’t care that you’re my client, he’s my patient and it’s his decision.”

Alarms began to ring in Lex’s mind, but what could he do? Nothing Lex could do would pry the information he wanted out of Prescott, whom he'd hired in the first place because of his legitimate dedication to patient confidentiality. He turned to Mercy for the answers he wanted, but the woman kept her anxious gaze focused on the doctor, trying to avoid having to respond.

“She’s not telling either. Now, you’re just going to have to wait. Go eat, and I’ll keep an eye on this young man.” Prescott waved his hand in a dismissive motion, drawing Lex’s attention off of Mercy.

Mercy herded him back into the living room and forced him to eat the Chinese food Prescott had brought.

When the sun had set and it was completely dark out, Prescott exited the bedroom. He motioned to Mercy and slowly made his way over to them. The woman hesitated before nodding once, the front door closing softly behind her as she left. Lex watched in confusion as she stepped out of the apartment before he turned back to the doctor. Prescott looked grave and his body was tense as he stood across the coffee table from him.

“He’s awake.” When Lex moved to stand in response to this, the doctor waved a hand to stop him. “I’m not finished.”

Lex slowly sank back onto the couch and, as he waited for the bad news, realized for the first time just how uncomfortable it was.

“He’s been awake for a half hour or so. I needed to talk to him about his injuries and what he wanted you to know. He was surprised that you’re here, as am I. But he told me to tell you everything you wanted to know, that it would be easier if I was the one to do it. So I’m going to, but you need to stay quiet until I’m through. Can you do that, Mr. Luthor?”

A scowl formed instinctively, but Lex nodded anyway.

The doctor shifted, uncomfortable with the situation, but started explaining. “Mr. Kent’s underweight, stressed, depressed, and exhausted. He lost a lot of blood, massive internal bleeding due to a violent allergic reaction. This is not an easy thing for me to say, and if I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

The doctor stopped and breathed deeply, readying himself for Lex’s reaction. “The bleeding was a direct response to a complete abortion.”

Lex went still, blood rushing in his ears, and he sat there, staring at the doctor.

“What?" he frowned. “What does that…?”

“He miscarried, Mr. Luthor,” Prescott said simply.

The living room grew quiet as the businessman processed that. Grey eyes focused on the coffee table -- the mind behind them thinking -- before closing, and scarred lips pressed into a tight line.

Lex felt his anger rise, and his hands fisted. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, Doctor, but it won’t work.”

“I’m not trying to pull anything.”

“Not trying to… men can’t get pregnant!”

“If you’ve forgotten, Mr. Luthor, he’s not exactly human. If you don’t believe me, ask your guard. She saw it as well.”

Lex deflated at that, and his doubt began to waver. Mercy had always been loyal to him. She would never lie about something like that. Prescott cautiously made his way around the coffee table and sat down on it, facing his employer with solemn eyes.

“It appears that he’d been… pregnant… for several months. I’m not sure if he knew beforehand or not. I didn’t ask. All I know is that, besides residual weakness that will fade in a few days time, he is suffering from depression.”

“What about the…” Lex’s throat choked closed, unable to fully accept the doctor’s diagnosis.

“… I’ve disposed of it. I thought that best. Ms. Graves agreed after a brief discussion.”

Remembering the argument between the two as he'd fallen asleep earlier, Lex nodded his understanding.  "Is... will he try this again?" he asked eventually, still almost unable to believe that Clark was pregnant... or had been until last night.

“In my professional opinion?” Prescott sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. I think he might try it again.”

The doctor stood and looked down at the businessman. “If I may ask, why are you so upset? I assumed you would be happy if something happened to him.” He flinched at the enraged snarl he received in response but said nothing as he saw Lex quickly compose himself.

“That’s none of your business,” Lex said coldly.

“It is if you’re going to harm him,” Prescott returned sternly. “He’s my patient now and I won’t have you killing or torturing him.”

Lex deflated at that and looked out the window at the night sky. “I won’t.”

“Please forgive my skepticism on that.”

Lex turned to him with an analyzing stare. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room, under any circumstance.” Lex rubbed his bare head in an old nervous gesture, and the doctor nodded. “We used to be friends.”

Prescott’s eyebrow went up.

Lex smirked, self-disparagingly. “I know: hard to believe; but it was when I was exiled to Smallville. He saved my life and we became best friends. I started to notice things about him, odd things, but he would never tell me the truth and eventually, I just had enough of his lies. I realize now that I pushed too hard. I ruined everything: our friendship, his trust, everything. I hated him for not telling me what I wanted to know, and I made him hate me.

“He called last night and I just… I couldn’t not listen. He… I…” He looked at Prescott helplessly, not knowing how to articulate his feelings. “I can’t… yesterday morning, I was willing to kill him, but now I can’t. I’m still angry as hell, but I can’t hurt him like that.”

The doctor was quiet before placing a hand on the dejected man’s shoulder. Lex looked up at him, and he smiled tightly. “He needs to stay here for another day or so; I don’t want to risk upsetting his healing process. If you’re serious about helping him then I suggest moving him somewhere else. Does he have family?”

Lex paled at the thought of Martha knowing. The woman was a force of nature in and of herself, and Lex feared her far more than he ever had his father. She would kill Clark when she found out about his suicide attempt. Well, she’d kill Lex for telling her, start sobbing, and then kill Clark.

“No. His mother can’t know. Not right now. It’s best if he’s healed before letting her loose on him.”

Prescott smirked at that as he gave the matter some thought.  “Is there no one else?”

Lex shook his head. He stilled and looked at the wall separating him from his ex-friend. His eyes narrowed as he thought things over, and his shoulders squared with his decision.

“I’ll take him.” He continued defensively at the raised eyebrow. “I won’t kill him. I have the space and he used to trust me. He wouldn’t have called me if there wasn’t anything there. He needs someone and I think I’m the only one able to do it. None of his friends know who he is; I do.”

“What about his ‘other’ friends?” Prescott emphasized other like it was significant, and after a moment Lex realized what he meant by it.

“No. I haven’t seen them around, and even if I had, I want to do it.”

The doctor nodded in agreement. “I’ll need to check on him.”

“Yes, yes. To make sure I don’t kill him.”

“Hm. He should be healed, physically, within the week. He will remain tired for several days, possibly longer, but that, too, will dissipate in time. I don’t know much about his system, so I’m guessing here. Also…” He hesitated. “also, I’m not sure if this is my place, but he’ll need support. There’s more healing that needs to be done than just his body; he’s depressed and hurting. Losing his child will only have made things worse, especially if he didn’t know he was pregnant.”

Lex’s mind froze at that. Clark had been pregnant. Clark… pregnant. He had been going to have a baby. Had he not realized he had been carrying a child? Or had he done something Lex thought impossible, and taken the kryptonite fully aware of the situation? The thoughts swirled around and around until his mind was a vortex and the only thing that registered was that Clark had been pregnant.

“Breathe!” Hands grabbed his shoulders and shook them.

Lex gasped and covered his eyes as the panic intensified. “God! How did this happen? Since when could Clark get pregnant?”

The doctor abruptly slapped Lex upside the head and snapped at him, “Get yourself together! If you’re going to help him, you need to calm down and not fall apart like some hysterical woman.”

Lex forced himself to calm down, and nodded at the other man. He slouched and rubbed his face, a sigh escaping before he wondered helplessly, “What do I do?”

“Well for starters, stop panicking. I’m going home. He’s stabilized, so I’ll check on him tomorrow. Do not abscond with him while I’m gone, or I will hunt you down. Am I clear?”

 Lex nodded and stared at the far wall, trying to see Clark through it.

“Good. Ms. Graves will be back in shortly; I suggest you take the time to compose yourself, and then go talk with him. He’s expecting you to interrogate him as soon as I’m gone. That won’t be happening, will it?”

He shook his head, and Prescott hummed once before leaving. The door closed behind the older man, and Lex was left alone in the apartment with Clark. He paced for several minutes, composing himself and organizing his thoughts, before he straightened and carefully made his way into the bedroom.

Across from the door, in the bed that stood perpendicular to the window, Clark lay on his side. The moonlight streamed through the bare panes of glass onto his still form, and Lex stood in the doorway, watching him. Uncertainty rose, feeding off his discomfort with the situation and growing guilt. He shouldn’t be here.

It wasn’t right to assume Clark wanted his help just because he had called. Clark shifted on the bed and looked over to the door. His green eyes fell on Lex’s still form and watched him silently for a minute before moving back toward the wall.

The billionaire waited for Clark to speak or move again, but when he didn’t, Lex knew he was the one that would need to start things. He slowly walked over to the bed, drawing the chair up, and sat down in Clark’s line of vision. Lex half expected Clark to turn over, away from him, but wasn’t overly surprised when he didn’t. He was motionless, his eyes locked onto Lex’s shirt buttons and body lax on the bed, arms limp and tucked up by his chest. Clark didn’t move or acknowledge Lex’s presence, and Lex felt awkward.

“Clark?” His voice came out soft, disappearing into the space between them. Green eyes didn’t flicker, so he tried again. “Clark, please, I’d like to talk.”

He waited for the other to move or do anything, and felt disappointment rise.

“Alright, that’s okay. You don’t have to.” He wanted to hold one of Clark’s hands, but he didn’t know how the younger man would react. So he kept to himself but leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, collecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Clark. I… I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.”

He watched his ex-friend carefully for any sign of movement.

“You know something? I was scared when Mercy called me. Hypocritical of me, isn't it? I was so afraid that I would be too late; I think I broke a hundred different traffic laws getting here.”

He was quiet for a minute before drawing a deep breath.

“Doctor Prescott told me… told me about the…” He trailed off, unable to say it. “I’m sorry. I never knew you were able to…”

Lex clasped his hands together in the dark of the room and sighed, not knowing how to draw Clark out of the disturbing state he was in.

“… me either.” Clark’s voice was scratchy and faint, his vocal cords damaged by the kryptonite.

Lex looked into the dull green eyes and gave in to his earlier urge. He reached out and carefully picked Clark’s hand up, holding it in between his own. Clark’s gaze didn’t waver, and Lex squeezed gently.

“I’m sorry.” When the man on the bed didn’t respond, Lex went on, “I’m so sorry, Clark. I can’t imagine what it must be like to… to lose something like that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.”

“I know, but still, I’m sorry that you had to lose your… lose it.”

“I’m not.”

He tensed. “What?”

“I’m not sorry.”

Lex’s stomach plummeted at those deadened words, and he looked down at the man on the bed. Clark shifted slightly, tilting his head so he could look Lex in the eye.

“I wanted it gone. Me dying was just an added bonus.”

“You knew?” It came out as a harsh whisper.

Clark gave a small nod and pulled his hand out of Lex’s grasp. He curled up and went back to staring at the other man’s buttons.

“What? You… you did this? You killed your… why? Why on earth would you… Why, Clark?”

Clark stayed quiet, and Lex stood up, backing away from the other man. He paced in a tight path around the room, trying to calm down. He told himself not to do anything stupid, that he didn’t know everything. Until he knew what he was dealing with, he couldn’t do anything. If he did, he could ruin whatever was happening right now. Clark had called him for a reason, so he couldn’t be stupid and wreck this chance.

He turned and watched Clark on the bed, curled up and motionless, staring at the wall blankly. It would be so easy to walk out. So easy to destroy the unstable truce that formed between them because of Clark’s desire to commit suicide. Lex closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, forcing a superficial level of calm over his anger and hurt and disbelief, so when he looked back at his ex-friend, it was with forced patience. He walked back over to the chair and sat down, hands reaching out to hold one of Clark’s. Clark didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either.

“Why, Clark? Please, I need you to tell me why.”

Clark was quiet for a time before repeating, “I wanted it gone.”

Lex felt the urge to growl but pushed it down. “Clark… why?”

The younger man pulled his hand away and laid it limply on the sheets. He looked down, towards the floor, and stayed stubbornly quiet. Lex narrowed his eyes in frustration and his brain jumped track.

“What about the other father?” He noticed Clark stiffen slightly, but the injured man stayed quiet, so Lex pressed on. “The baby…”

“It wasn’t a baby!” Clark hissed suddenly.

Lex wrenched back at the pure venom he heard in the other’s voice. “Clark…”

“It was evil! Just like him, an abomination!”

“… Clark…” Lex started hesitantly, watching the other warily, “what happened?”

Clark’s eyes clamped shut and his hands fisted in the sheets, still so weak that they couldn’t rip it. Lex reached out for him, but the younger man jerked away and began to shudder. He looked on helplessly as Clark closed in on himself, the shaking dying down until he was still and limp once more. The green eyes slid open again, and he winced at the dead look in them.

“Clark?” Lex leaned forward but didn’t touch. “Clark, please?”

He stood, pushing the chair back as he did so and began to pace again. He faintly heard Mercy reenter the apartment, but knew she would stay away. Clark remained motionless, staring straight ahead, and Lex was honestly at a loss about what to do. He had always known how to comfort Clark when they were younger, but what did he do now, now when they had been enemies longer than friends?

He had his growing suspicions, but they were too dark to speak out loud. He needed Clark to admit it. He needed him to say it. For the first time in years, Lex Luthor found himself praying that Clark would tell him the truth. He knelt down in front of his friend and reached for his hands. He held onto Clark and squeezed tightly, silently begging the other to tell him. Clark looked at him for several long moments before he licked his lips and whispered out his shame sorrowfully.

“He raped me.”

The confession hung heavy in the air, suspended between them like a primed bomb ready to explode, and unbridled fury washed over Lex. It burned him cold, and every inch of his body froze over with it. Clark’s wounded and betrayed eyes stoked the rage filling him; colder and colder it burned until all he could feel was the pulsing need for vengeance and blood. Clark must have understood, because he squeezed Lex’s hands and forced a faint and bitter smile onto his face. Lex freed his left hand and cupped Clark's face, running his thumb over the sharpened cheekbone.

“I really wish we had stayed friends. You wouldn't have let this happen if you had been here.”

“I want a name,” he said calmly.

Clark studied Lex as the man continued to caress his face and wait patiently for the name of the person he was going to kill. He felt part of him try to rise up, crying out that he couldn’t give in to Lex, that it was wrong, no matter what the man had done; but Clark remembered what had been done to him, and that small piece of his conscience was easily suffocated.

“Valdez,” he said at length.

Lex’s wrath doubled at that. Valdez was the mutant that had captured Superman all those months back and tortured him. The Justice League had been forced to rescue him, but only many long hours after it had been clear to everyone that something had gone wrong. Valdez had escaped back to his gang and had never been apprehended.

Lex was going to slaughter him.

“He used blue kryptonite,” Clark added softly, knowing full well that he was only adding to Lex’s murderous rage. “He laughed, Lex, said green would have given me an out. I couldn’t stop him.”

Lex smiled softly at him and ran a hand through Clark’s dirty hair.

“It’s alright.” He spoke gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

Clark closed his eyes and squeezed the hand he held. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not being able to stop him. For bothering you. For making you hate me. Pick one.”

Lex nudged at Clark’s cheek until Clark was looking at him. He looked down at the tortured young man and spoke with a conviction that he hadn’t felt in years. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You will not blame yourself for what he did. We were both at fault for our friendship failing, and I don’t hate you, Clark, not anymore. I’ll take care of things; I’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t hate me for killing it?” Clark whispered brokenly.

“Could you have loved it?”

Clark shook his head immediately.

“Then no, you had every right,” Lex answered. “I could never hate you for it. Any child with your DNA would have your abilities, so it’s not like you could have had it and then given it up.”

Lex watched as Clark’s eyes brightened with life and then filled with tears, his chest aching in misery as the other man began to cry quietly. He stayed like that, kneeling beside his friend, until the anguished Kryptonian succumbed to exhaustion, and after he pulled the sheets up over Clark’s shoulders, he left the bedroom to find Mercy.

He noticed Mercy’s demeanor change rapidly when she saw his face, her body tensing and then loosening in a forced calm.

“I want Valdez by breakfast,” he said smoothly.

Mercy nodded, seeming to understand immediately what wasn’t being said. Lex looked at the wall between him and Clark, and knew that things had changed. Lex had a strange feeling that they had obliterated the single largest barrier that blocked their reconciliation. Whether that meant they would come together as friends or something more, he didn’t know, but it was painfully obvious to him that it would be impossible to give Clark up again.

 “Find out what happened,” he said calmly. “I want to know what he did, if anyone helped, and who it was.”

Mercy’s body stiffened and she nodded her acceptance to Lex’s order.

“Yes, sir.”

“Names, Mercy. Only names.”

Lex Luthor was possessive. No one hurt what was his and got away with it. Valdez had committed a grievous sin against Kent, and Lex would make sure the man paid. The same went for anyone that had ‘helped.’

“Yes, sir. I’ll bring Valdez in and get you the names.”

“Good. I’ll be here if you need me.”

They both knew she wouldn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

“Clark will be coming to stay at the penthouse--” he started, but Mercy cut him off.

“Yes, sir. Necessary arrangements have been made. The Kryptonite lining is being removed right now, and then the maids will be in to settle the rooms.”

Lex nodded approvingly. “Remind me to give you another raise.”

“Of course, sir.” She smirked before turning to leave.

“Mercy?”

She turned back.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me."  Lex smiled gently at her, his face smoothing out and looking suddenly younger.

She blushed, and scowled as he chuckled.

"I know it's not easy putting up with me," he went on, "but thank you.  "I honestly don't know why you stay."'

“You’re welcome, Lex, and if you want to know why, I suggest you ask Mr. Kent.”

With that, she turned and left the apartment. As he watched her leave, Lex couldn’t help the warm, pleased feeling that welled up inside him.

He was sitting beside the bed when Clark woke up early Friday morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the light would not reach them for another hour or so. Eyelids fluttered before opening to bare green eyes, and Clark gazed at Lex blearily before shifting away. Lex frowned and leaned forward, trying to get Clark to look at him.

“Clark?”

The Kryptonian turned his head back, and Lex could suddenly see glossy tears appear. “I thought you’d leave.”

Lex stiffened in hurt, but then forced himself to see things from Clark's perspective. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears began to slip down pale cheeks, and Lex reached over to wipe them away. His hand rested on Clark’s, and he squeezed once before withdrawing.

“Doctor Prescott called you in for yesterday and today, so you won’t have to go into work.”

Clark nodded gratefully and stared into his eyes, looking for something that Lex hoped to God was there. “Thank you, Lex. I don’t know what… I’m sorry that you had to…”

“It’s alright. Just promise me that you won’t do this again.” Lex felt his stomach clench as Clark remained silent. “Clark, promise me.”

Clark looked up at him before nodding once, a small gesture that Lex barely caught. He sighed in relief, and Clark’s expression saddened.

“I’m sorry. It just… it just got so bad, I didn’t know what to do. I just…”

“Does anyone else know?”

Clark shook his head rapidly in horror, and Lex frowned as he assimilated that piece of information.

“What about the Justice League? Surely they know?”

“No!” Clark denied quickly. “I didn’t want them to know. How could I?”

“Then what excuse did you give them? You haven’t been Superman in over four months, Clark.”

Clark picked at the sheet and bit his lip nervously. “I… told them that I… didn’t want to work with them. That I… couldn’t trust them.”

Lex’s brow furrowed and he waited for his friend to continue.

“They didn’t come!” the other finally burst out. “I was hurt and couldn’t get out, and they didn’t come! I’ve saved every single one of them at one point or another, and they didn’t come!”

“They did eventually.”

“But it was too late!” Green eyes snapped closed. “He had already… already…”

“Clark, how can they not know… if they rescued you?”

“They… put my… clothes back on,” came the broken whisper, “and there weren’t any cameras. He used green kryptonite after that. I didn’t have my powers, and it hurt so bad.”

Lex’s intent to kill ratcheted up a notch, but he hid it as he comforted Clark.

“I told them that I couldn’t work with people that I couldn’t trust. They weren’t happy.”

“Did they do anything?” Lex asked dangerously. If the Justice League had, then they’d suffer as well.

Clark shook his head. “No. They argued some, said I was being a child. One mission gone wrong was not an excuse to run away and I was a coward for doing it.”

The prosthetic hand whined as it tightened too far, and Lex forced it open.

“I think Bru… Batman knows something’s wrong. He’s called the Planet for an interview. Perry didn’t say anything about what he said, but I knew Batman wanted me to be the one to talk to him. I passed it off to Lois.”

Lex sat back and digested that. He’d known for a few years now that Batman was Bruce Wayne, how could he not, but he didn’t know how to proceed with that knowledge. Now he had a potentially disastrous situation to deal with if he wanted Clark back in his life.

“Do you think Bruce would cause problems?”

Clark looked at him with wide eyes, and Lex rolled his own in exasperation. “Please Clark, you said it yourself, I’m a genius. Figuring out Batman’s identity wasn’t really all that hard.”

“Please, please don’t do anything, Lex.” Clark pleaded with him.

Lex waved his hand dismissively. “Unless he went after me openly, I’ve never had any plans to. You were always my enemy, not him.” He watched Clark relax and asked silkily “So I take it you’re friends?”

The younger man nodded. “Yeah, I guess. We were.”

“A friend doesn’t call you a coward for not wanting to work with people you can’t trust.”

“Bruce wasn’t there,” Clark defended. “He was in Japan on a business trip that he couldn’t get out of. He called to see if I was okay.”

“Then who was there?”

“Everyone but Bruce. Well, J’onn was there, but he stayed out of it.”

 “And none of them have tried contacting you?”

“No. Everyone but Bruce and J’onn made it pretty clear that I wasn’t welcome back until I apologized. Well, maybe not Wonder Woman. She was disappointed, but didn't push.” Clark laughed bitterly. “They’re expecting me to apologize. I bet they’ll just love me now.”

Lex made a mental roster of ‘everyone but Bruce and J’onn’ and narrowed his eyes in displeasure. Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Flash, Aquaman, Chloe… great, he was so making a call to Bruce later.

“Well, they can kiss my ass.” Lex felt his cheeks heat slightly as Clark looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t give a fuck what they think. They don’t know you, so they can go to hell.”

“I’m starting to think that J’onn knows what happened. He’s tried calling me, his own way you know…" Clark tapped his temple. "but I haven’t answered him. I don’t want to talk to any of them right now.”

“Not even Bruce?”

“No. After he asked if I was okay, he started to lecture me about duty and responsibility, hinted that it’s fine to work solo, but I have a obligation to use my powers… I hung up on him.” Clark whispered that admission ashamedly, his head ducking in obvious guilt. Lex laughed.

Only Clark would think hanging up on Batman a crime.

“Lex?” Clark gave a weak smile when grey eyes turned towards him. “Thank you.”

Lex felt heat spread through him and nodded. Clark smiled before closing his eyes.

“Clark?” he called hesitantly.

“Hm.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

Clark stiffened and his face twisted briefly before smoothing out into a false calm. He curled up and refused to answer, his mouth thinning. Lex’s real fingers made moves towards the other man, but he knew Clark needed some space so he kept his hands to himself.

“I…” the wounded man started. “A long time.”

“How long?”

Clark looked at him, and Lex resisted the urge to shift away from the piercing gaze. “It started before… before we stopped being friends.”

It felt like a blow to Lex’s gut. He stared, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, at Clark.

“But you never, you always seemed so…”

“It wasn’t that bad. Not at first. Just a thought here or there… ‘would mom and dad would be better off without me?’ ‘would anyone really be upset if I were gone?’ it wasn’t a lot, but whenever it happened I would dwell on it until I went to spend time with you or mom.”

“What?” Tentative pleasure filled him at the last part, but he forced himself to stay still and listen.

“I always felt better after talking to you guys. Mom would make me feel loved, and you made me feel accepted. It wasn’t all that hard to get rid of those kinds of thoughts after that, not a first. But after things got really bad between you and me, well, it was harder to ignore them. Mom knew something was wrong but she couldn’t help. Talking to her didn’t help anymore, and I couldn’t go to you, I screwed that up too bad. So I tried to deal with it on my own.

“It was easier once I started college and started saving people. I had something to focus on other than Smallville mutants and you. When it got bad, I would say to myself ‘if I weren’t here, who would help them?’ and then it would go away for a while.”

“Clark…”

“I thought I could handle it. I thought that, as long as I had a purpose, as long as there were people that depended on me and that I could depend on as well, then everything would be worth it. I just had to suck it up and deal.”

Green eyes glassed over and Lex wanted Clark to stop talking.

“But it didn’t get better, it just got worse. There are so many people that need me all the time. They’re always calling, screaming for help about the smallest things. I can’t do it all and they get mad because I can’t. I try! I try so hard to save everyone, but I can’t. I have to make choices and it hurts, and the voices in my head won’t shut up whenever someone dies because of me.”

“Clark, stop. Please stop.” Lex begged.

Clark’s mouth snapped shut and, as he clenched his eyes shut in misery, Lex realized what that must have sounded like. He rubbed a hand over his scalp in agitation.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just… it’s not your fault. You’re not perfect, Clark. You can’t save everyone, and it’s not fair for even one person on this planet to think that you can.”

“But they do!”

“Yeah, I know they do. But I don’t.” Lex leaned down and rested his head against the other man’s as Clark looked at him, defeat etched onto his face. “I’ve always known Superman isn’t infallible. There’s only so much any person can do, Clark, and that doesn’t change just because you can do more than most.”

“Lex…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you felt like this back when we were friends. I’m sorry, Clark.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just how I am.”

“I wasn’t a good friend then.”

“You were, Lex. You made it easier than my mom did for me to ignore that I was crazy. It just got so bad that I couldn’t not listen to it anymore.”

“Was it because of the ba… was it Valdez?”

Clark stiffened but nodded. “I would have done it sooner, but you weren’t very cooperative.”

Lex felt anger rush through him at that. He pulled back and glared at Clark, hissing furiously. “Don’t EVER think you can use me like that again! I am not going to help you commit suicide.”

“But you were willing to commit murder.”

It was spoken plainly, a simple statement, one not intended to rile Lex. He felt his anger deflate and stared at his broken friend helplessly.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know you would be so angry, I’m sorry.”

“How did you…?”

“How did I know?” Clark shrugged after Lex nodded. “I felt weird, so I x-rayed myself. I barely made it to the toilet before throwing up.”

Lex sighed in pain. “What did your AI tell you?”

“I didn’t go.”

“What?”

“If I had gone, Jor-El would have known what I was planning. He would have tried to keep me there until… until…”

Lex nodded, not really understanding, but ran a hand up and down Clark’s arm nonetheless and stifled a yawn. The Kryptonian’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“How much sleep have you had?”

“Enough.”

Clark shook his head, exasperated, and shoved at Lex’s chest. “Go sleep.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“I know.” He pushed again. “Go, I’m sure Mercy will keep an eye on me.”

Lex stood, not bothering to mention that Mercy was out, and yawned again. He tried to tuck the covers around Clark but the other man chuckled weakly and knocked his hands away. Lex sighed but gave into the demand and staggered into the living room. He heard Clark’s tired chuckle follow him and couldn’t help but feel the fear lift off his shoulders as he collapsed onto the couch.

Mercy passed a bag of food over to him when she entered the apartment later that morning. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hit him, and he gave her an incredulous look.

“Mercy, it’s ten o’clock in the morning. Isn’t it a little early for this much grease?”

She pointed at Clark’s bedroom doorway, and he rolled his eyes before getting up from the couch. He noticed that she had a duffle bag by her feet, so he knew that, after finishing with Valdez, she must have stopped by the penthouse to pick up a change of clothing for him. He nodded his thanks and continued on, burger bag clutched in his right hand.

Lex nudged the door open, and Clark lifted his head from the pillows he was propped up against.

“Should you be sitting up?”

“Probably not.”

Lex huffed but felt better at Clark’s flippant tone. He was most likely faking, but it helped Lex keep it together that his friend wasn’t nearly catatonic.

“Well, Mercy decided to provide sustenance, big mistake.” He sat down in what was now his chair and opened the bag. “Let’s see… we have three burgers, two large fries, and something that I think is fish. I really can’t tell under all the grease.”

“Fries, please.”

Lex handed one over, and the two began to eat in silence. Lex finished his first, which threw him off because normally he picked like a bird, and started on a burger. Clark set the remainder of his fries aside and closed his eyes, as if to go back to sleep.

“You’re done?” Lex asked him around a mouthful of food.

Clark gave him a lopsided smile and nodded. “I’m not very hungry.”

He gave Clark a pointed look and placed a burger onto his lap. Clark began to argue, but one glare from the billionaire, and he was unwrapping the food, slowly making his way through it. Lex nodded, pleased with himself, and Clark rolled his eyes.

“You’re still as bossy as ever. I forgot that about you.”

Lex’s fingers stilled as they pulled at a pickle. He glanced up at the man on the bed with a hooded look, and Clark shook his head.

“I kind of missed it. It usually meant you cared.”

“Clark, you’re the only person who ever thought that.” He said good-naturedly, pushing the instinctive defensiveness away. “I’m rarely bossy because I care. I’m bossy because I’m a domineering bastard who likes to get his way.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, a perfectionist is more-like it. On regular, ordinary business, I mean.” He rushed to add when Lex raised an eyebrow in sarcasm.

“Nice save.”

“Thanks.”

They finished their breakfast in silence, after Lex goaded Clark into eating the last burger, and found themselves at a loss of what to talk about. He examined his friend subtly and found that he didn’t like what he saw. The morning before, it looked like Clark had lost twenty or thirty pounds; now it was as if it was double that.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself,” he accused as Clark looked down at his hands. “You have to start…”

“Don’t tell me what I have to do!” Clark snapped. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m… I’m just really bitchy right now.”

Lex knew that it had to do with the fading hormones, but didn’t dare mention it to his volatile companion. The last thing he needed was an upset and enraged super-being, fragile as he may be right then.

“It’s fine.” He said simply, waving the apology off. He leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up on the bed, making Clark snort.

“Getting comfortable are we?” He gave a weak laugh as Lex squirmed in his seat and smirked. The weakened man began to play with the fingers on his left hand distractedly.

“…Clark?” Lex waited for the green eyes to focus on him before continuing. “I know you’re going to be upset, but… I want you to come back to the penthouse with me.”

The younger man stilled his nervous movements, looking at him blankly, and Lex waited with baited breath as the other processed the words. Hands twisted into the sheets and a look passed over the pale face, signaling that a drag-out fight was going to be necessary.

“Clark…” He started, expecting the other to jump in with refusals. When none came, Lex really looked at Clark and saw that the hands were trembling. He looked into the shuttered face and noticed tension lines and glossy eyes. “Clark?”

Clark raised a shaking hand and roughly scrubbed at the offending tears, scowling horribly.

“I don’t need your pity!” he growled.

“What? Clark, I don’t…”

“I don’t want it!”

“Clark! I’m not pitying you!”

“Then why are you here?” The question was asked in a low, vicious tone, and Lex flinched back from it.

“Because I want to help.”

“Bullshit. You feel guilty; you would never be here otherwise.”

Lex felt himself bristle and he bared his teeth. “You don’t know anything about me, Clark.”

“I know enough to know that you would never be here unless I tried to kill myself!”

Both men’s jaws snapped shut and the room fell silent. Clark’s eyes were wide as Lex sat stunned, staring at him.

“You’re right.” Lex said finally, and watched as Clark recoiled at his agreement. “I wouldn’t have come. But you did try to kill yourself, so I’m here.”

“I don’t want you here because of guilt.” Clark said quietly, looking away from him.

“I did initially come because of guilt.” He plowed on, cutting Clark off when the other opened his mouth. “But I’m not staying because of it.”

Clark looked at him warily, doubt and distrust still present. Lex understood. They weren’t suddenly best friends again. That wasn’t going to happen in a day, or even a year for that matter. But Lex found himself willing to try, needing to try, to fix things between them. If he was truly honest with himself, he missed Clark. He missed the easy smiles and his simple way of looking at things. The way Clark seemed to accept him without any explanation needed.

“I don’t know why, but I miss being friends. Even though you did nothing but lie to me,” he cut Clark off again. “I miss you.”

“You lied too, Lex.”

“I know.”

“You kept pushing.” Clark looked away again.

“I know.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“… I… I know.”

Clark glanced at him with a scowl.

“What?”

“This is where you say ‘I’m sorry’ back.”

Lex’s head fell back and he laughed.

“You’re going to have to talk to White.”

Lex and Clark were sitting on the couch watching a rerun of the Warrior Angel movie, the latter mummified in a cover. Clark hummed but didn’t respond and Lex sighed, pausing the television. He turned his head to look at his friend, snickering at the blanket Clark had been wrapped in.

When Prescott had arrived to check on him, Clark had begged to be let up. The doctor had given in and, with the help of Lex, helped Clark out to the couch. Mercy had snuck up behind them with the comforter and had bound the injured man in it before anyone could blink. Clark cursed, trying to wriggle out of the confining bedspread, but Mercy turned him around and gently pushed him backwards onto the couch. She snapped her fingers at her employer and Lex sat down next to a complaining Clark as the remote and a bowl of popcorn was deposited onto the coffee table.

Lex’s smile from the memory dimmed as he glanced at his silent companion. “Clark, you’re in no condition to go back to work. You can’t keep doing this, Lane is about ready to rip you to pieces and White is going to fire you.”

“Let him fire me.”

“Clark, even I’ll admit that you love your job.”

“Not anymore.”

Lex sighed. “You hate everything right now.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Not everything.”

Warmth spread across Lex’s cheeks, and he ducked his head before looking back at Clark stubbornly. “You’re not in a good place to make decisions. If you get fired or quit you might not care now, but you will later.”

Clark was silent and Lex didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to answer, or because he was thinking about what Lex said. So Lex exhaled and turned the movie back on, wishing that the director had had a better filming budget.

“What do I tell him?”

The question was almost too soft to hear, and Lex stopped the movie again. He stayed facing the screen but fiddled with the remote as he thought about it.

“Lex? What do I tell my boss? That I haven’t been able to do my job because I can’t stand to be around people anymore? I’m sorry but I can’t deal with Lois and her bitchy insensitive questions? I’m sorry I’ve been a jackass, but some bastard raped me and I’m freak enough that I got knocked up? What Lex? What do I tell him?”

Clark was breathing harshly after his outburst and Lex played with the mute button.

“Something like that.”

The mound of blanket growled, a deep chesty sound, but Lex ignored the warning and put a hand where he thought a knee should be. He continued on in a pacifying tone. “I can talk to him.”

The growling stopped and Clark looked at him through the gap where his face was, green eyes filled with surprise. Lex couldn’t help but squeeze his hand and then pat the cover.

“If you want, that is.”

Clark thought about it before nodding. “Please.”

“Alright, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“No, do it now. I don’t… I might change my mind otherwise. I’m tired, Lex, I think I’m going to go lay down. Just… just wait until I’m asleep, alright?”

With that, the younger man began to worm his way upright, and Lex chuckled helplessly. He reached forward and loosened the corner that kept Clark imprisoned, and the other sighed in relief as the blanket fell to the ground in a heap. Lex picked it up and handed it to his friend and Clark nodded his head in thanks before beginning to slowly walk to the bedroom, his balance uneven. After Lex finished the movie by himself, he went to see if Clark was asleep and then stood by the front door to call the Daily Planet’s Editor-In-Chief.

“Perry White, Daily planet.” The editor’s voice was rough from years of cigarettes and cheap booze, but the harsh edge suited his image.

“Mr. White, this is Lex Luthor.” There was silence on the other end, and Lex already knew this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.

“What do you want, Luthor?”

The man’s tone was barely civil and Lex admired his restraint.

“I’m calling in regards to one of your reporters, Clark Kent.”

 “What did he do to piss you off?”

“Nothing, my sincerest apologies that you can’t give him another raise.”

White snorted. “Give it a week or so, he’ll find me a reason.”

“Hm. As I was saying, I’m calling in regards to him.”

“Kent isn’t in right now.” Perry answered abruptly. “He’s called in sick, the flu or some crap.”

“I know. My doctor was the one to call.”

“What?” There was a squeak of the man’s chair as the editor sat up straight. “What games are you playing at?”

“I assure you, none what so ever.”

“You’re not fooling me, Luthor. You two hate each other, there’s no way in hell he’d deal with you.”

Lex sighed. “Mr. White, Clark asked me to call you. He’s going to be taking some time off from work.”

“Bullshit. I want to talk to Kent. Right now.”

“I’m sorry but that’s not possible.”

“… not possible?” Perry’s voice was low and filling with rage.

“No. I’m afraid he’s asleep. I just wanted to let you know. I’m not sure how much time he’ll need, so I’ll have him call you later when he knows.”

“Luthor, if I don’t talk to him this instant, I’m calling the police.”

Lex’s hand gripped the phone and he was glad that it was the normal one.

“Mr. White,” he began in a placating attitude.

“Now!” The older man shouted.

“Mr. White!” Lex shouted back. He stuck his head into the living room and waited for Clark to wake up. When he didn’t, Lex turned his attention back to the Daily Planet Editor-In-Chief. “Clark called me two nights ago, drunk. I thought it odd when we’ve been nothing but at each other’s throats this past decade, so I went over to his apartment.”

Perry was quiet so Lex took a breath and continued. “It’s not really any of your business, but I can see you’re not going to let it be. So I’m telling you this in the strictest of confidences. He tried to kill himself.”

Perry gasped and Lex rushed to reassure the man. “My doctor assures me that he’ll be fine, but I barely found him in time. However, even when he’s well enough, I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to go in, certain… stressors… there are not going to be helpful.”

“…What happened?” Perry whispered.

“He overdosed on alcohol and migraine pills.”

Perry sucked in a breath and Lex waited for the man to gather himself together.

“Why did he call you?” The tone was rough with shock, but the accusation was still there.

“…it’s personal,” he hedged, not wanting to get into sensitive topics with someone other than Clark.

“Why?” White pressed again.

“He wanted to apologize.” Lex hissed in displeasure. “He wanted to talk about our failed friendship.”

“Oh…I’m… I forgot that you two were…”

“Don’t be, Mr. White, our past is private, and few know anything about it. I would prefer to keep it that way.”

“Has this anything to do with…”

“With what?”

“Don’t pull that with me, Luthor. You’re not stupid.”

Lex frowned. He honestly didn’t know what Perry White was talking about. The only thing that came to mind was Superman, but White couldn’t know about that. It wasn’t like he was ever in… Smallville. His eyes closed and he sighed at his own stupidity.

He mentally kicked himself before growling threateningly into the phone. “You know nothing! Do you understand me, White? Nothing!”

“…so you do know.” White whispered, making Lex snort breathily. “You’ve known for God knows how long, and you haven’t done anything?”

“Oh I’ve done plenty, White. It’s usually all over your fucking paper.”

“To Superman maybe, but not to Kent, you’ve been protecting him.” Perry paused. “That’s messed up, even for you.”

Lex barked out a harsh laugh. “You have no idea.”

“He really tried to do that?”

“Yes.” He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “We’re at his apartment right now. I’m taking him to my penthouse for the next week or so. He’s promised not to do anything but…”

“You think he might.”

Lex didn’t respond, he didn’t need to.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. Clark and I used to be friends. What he did, it served to bring that fact back into focus. I’m trying to rectify things.”

“Superman…”

“He doesn’t want to be Superman.” He cut Perry off. “He’s tired of playing the martyr. Whether that’s because he’s depressed or because that’s how he honestly feels, I don’t know, but I’m going to give him the time he needs to get his head on straight. Right now, he’s not my enemy; he’s a friend that’s in need of help.”

“His mother?”

“Can’t help, not with this. She won’t understand. I’m afraid that if she knew, she’d just make things worse. You know Martha, White. How do you think she’d react to her son trying to kill himself?”

“She’d kill him.” Perry shuddered and Lex smirked. “God, this is so fucked up.”

“How do you think I feel? I hated him the day before yesterday.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know. I’m still angry, but I want to move past that. My being angry won’t help Clark.”

“You swear that he’ll be safe with you?”

Lex’s eyes closed and he leaned his head back against the wall. “On Clark’s soul.”

He heard Perry still at that telling promise, but the man didn’t comment and for that Lex was grateful.

“I want to talk to him when he’s awake. If he told you to call me, then it shouldn’t be a problem. I won’t bring any of what you said up, I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

“Alright, that’s fair.”

“… Thank you… for letting me know.” It sounded painful for the older man to say, and Lex was kind enough not to taunt him on it.

“Of course, Clark looks up to you, Mr. White. It would have pained him greatly to lose your good opinion of him.”

“…it wasn’t his idea to call me, was it?”

“No. I knew you were growing upset with his efforts at work, or lack thereof. I felt you deserved some sort of explanation before he took a large amount of time off. I pressed and he agreed. He merely asked me to wait until he was asleep.”

“Damn that kid.” Perry huffed. “Lane will be frothing at the mouth.”

“Lane can…” Lex cut himself off and Perry laughed.

“Yeah… I think it would be best if I didn’t tell her where he is.”

“God, no. I won’t be responsible for her disappearance if you do.”

“Hm…” The editor hesitated before inhaling deeply and continuing. “Luthor, what really happened?”

Lex sighed tiredly. “Do you honestly want to know?”

“No, but I think I need to.”

“Valdez.”

“That psycho bastard that tortured Superman?”

The billionaire heard the editor’s rage and decided to test just how loyal Perry White was to Clark Kent. “He did a bit more than that.”

“God damn it! I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll tear his mother-fucking head off!” The older man began to curse and Lex smirked as he heard a passer-by open the editor’s office door. “Shut the god damn door! Did I say to come in? No! Get out!”

After another moment or two, Perry’s yelling abruptly stopped and Lex waited quietly for White’s next move.

“You know, I find it hard to believe that Valdez would still be out on the streets, ratty little bastard like that. He’ll probably be hard for me to find now.”

“Hm.”

“He’s probably holed up with his druggy-buddies.”

“Possibly.” That was all Lex allowed him.

“…I have a feeling I might be seeing a new headline: ‘Drug Overdose in Slums.’”

Lex licked his lips and analyzed the situation carefully. “Try: ‘Gang Destroyed in Civil War.’”

“Son of a…”

Perry easily comprehended Lex’s subtle meaning and erupted into another fury induced fit. Lex held the phone away from his ear for several minutes until the editor had controlled his rage.

“That sounds like a fucking good headline,” came the low, dangerous growl.

“So it’s agreed?” Lex held his breath.

“Agreed, but just this once. The hell I’m teaming up with you.”

“Hm.”

“Are you going to let Martha know?”

“Eventually.”

“Let me guess, in a day or two when you’ve safely absconded to your penthouse where she can’t get at you?”

“Exactly. I may be a Luthor, Mr. White, but all Luthors fear Martha Kent.”

Perry chuckled, suddenly sounding so very tired. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’ll give Kent two weeks to start with. He has to let me know if he’s going to need more. And I still want to talk to him.”

“I’ll let him know.”

“You do that, Luthor.”

Lex heard a click of the dial tone and rolled his eyes. The phone was pocketed before he pushed away from the wall, intent on checking on Clark before catching some more sleep. After he rested some, he would take Clark back to the penthouse. It was better to do that at night anyway, when there were less people about. Especially when the majority of the city knew Clark Kent and Lex Luthor hated each other; the much-loved phrase ‘with a fiery passion’ coming to mind.

“Clark. Hey, wake up.”

Lex shook the sleeping man’s shoulder until he woke, eyes looking around blearily. When Clark spotted the body directly above him, he flinched back violently, and Lex gritted his teeth.

“It’s just me, Clark.”

“Lex?” He nodded and Clark sighed in relief. “Sorry, all I saw was a shadow...”

“It’s fine. Come on.” He helped Clark sit up and the younger man instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck.

“What’s going on? It's eleven o’clock at night.”

“Eleven thirty and we’re going home.”

“Home?”

“My penthouse.” He felt Clark still under his hands and looked down at him worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Clark shook his head and started to stand. Lex gently stopped him.

“Clark? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… it’s silly… just…”

“I really want to go home, Lex, I miss it. But I guess it hasn’t been my home in a long time.”

Lex closed his eyes briefly before helping Clark stand the rest of the way. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”

“It’s okay.”

He heard the disappointment in Clark’s voice and kicked himself. Lex felt the urge to open the penthouse to Clark as his second home, but knew it was too soon for that. They had a lot of problems to deal with before he felt comfortable with allowing Clark free access to his house, like he had in Smallville.

“Let’s work on not wanting to kill each other, then we’ll work on the other thing.”

Clark lowered his arm to Lex’s waist, and the two shuffled towards the door, stopping when the taller man realized an important fact.

“Lex, I’m still in my pajamas.”

“Clark, we’re going from your apartment to my car. You’ll be fine.”

“Lex. I’m. In. My. Pajamas.”

Lex sighed. “No one’s going to see, Clark.”

“Lex, you have a camera set up to record 24/7. If you do, then I’m pretty sure Bruce does. Do you want Batman at your door?”

“Why would Bruce have a camera watching you?”

“Because you do.”

“What? That makes no sense!”

“It does to him. He sees what you do… or something like that. Really? I just think he’s competitive. Most creepy stalker of the year runner-up third year running.”

“Runner-up? What… who won… Hey! I am not a stalker!”

“Lex, you watch the farm, my apartment, my work, my sources, who I save, and the heroes I deal with. You had a room dedicated to my secret, which, I’m sure, is now a warehouse. You have one of every Superman action figure in existence and you’ve reserved the first edition of the Superman Comic Book. If that’s not stalking, I honestly don’t know what is.”

Lex’s mouth flapped for several beats before snapping shut. “I don’t have every action figure!”

“Oh, sorry. You’re one plastic doll short of stalker.”

“I am not a stalker!”

“Bruce has the one you don’t, doesn’t he?”

“…”

“Oh my god, he does! Bruce totally wins!”

“We’re not competing!”

“So it doesn’t bother you that Bruce probably knows where I am every moment of every day, knows everything about Superman and has all my action figures?”

“…”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I swear to God I’m going to drop you.”

“Well, at least Batman will be there to catch me.”

“… I fucking hate you.”

Lex tensed, realizing his mistake, but Clark only laughed. He smiled at the sound and then found himself joining in. They both laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks and their sides hurt. Clark clung to him helplessly as he broke into random fits of snorts and giggles.

“Come on.”

“Lex, I’m not leaving until I have actual clothes on.”

“Technically you already...”

“Lex!”

“Alright! Damn, I forgot how much of a prude you were sometimes.”

Clark sat back down while Lex hunted through his clothes for sweatpants and a tee-shirt. He helped Clark with the shirt, but large hands stopped him from reaching for the waistband of pajama pants.

“I… I’ve got it, Lex.” Clark spoke stiffly, and Lex backed up.

“Got it.” To lighten the mood, he took an exaggerated step back and whirled around with his arms straight out, like an airplane. “I’ll just be over here all by my lonesome, with my back turned and my eyes covered.” The other man snorted and Lex forced an easy grin, trying to hide how Clark’s fear bothered him.

He heard Clark grunt once as he changed into the sweatpants, but then the bed squeaked and he heard a quiet ‘okay.’ Lex turned around and helped Clark back up. The reporter slipped into his shoes and they started out to the front door.

“What about my things? I’ll need clothes.”

“I’ll take care of it, Clark.”

“You’ll come back and get my toothbrush?”

“No. I’ll buy you a new toothbrush.”

“An expensive one, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Clark sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Well, if you hate new, better clothing, a wonderful toothbrush that promotes dental hygiene, fabulous food, and a great entertainment system? Then yes, you’ll regret this.”

“I forgot about the tendency of buying me expensive things.”

“Some clothing versus a great truck…”

“What qualifies as a few clothes? Oh!” Clark asked warily as they left his apartment. He seemed to remember something and turned awkwardly in Lex’s embrace to look back. “My phone.”

“Have you been answering your phone?”

“Well… no.”

“Then I’m not going back.”

Clark huffed but let Lex maneuver him down the stairs. “You never answered my question. What clothes would I need?”

“I don’t know… shirts, pants, shoes, a few of the basics.”

“High quality, right, things like yours?”

“Mhm.” Lex agreed absentmindedly as they reached the bottom of the staircase and he pushed open the building’s main door.

“I’d rather take the truck.”

“Alright, just as soon as we…” Lex turned his head and glared. “Haha. I’m buying you clothes, Clark. I saw your closet.”

“Hey!”

“Rumpled suits and flannel, two nightmares merged into one.”

“Hey! I like my clothes.”

“Which is reason enough to get new ones. Ow!” Lex winced as Clark stomped on his foot. They made their way down the street to Lex’s car, and Clark leaned against it as Lex unlocked the door. He helped Clark sit down and waited until his friend drew his legs in before closing it with a soft click. Lex jogged around to the other side and slipped into the driver’s seat, sighing as the buttery leather melded to his body.

“You are such a car-whore,” drifted from the passenger seat.

Lex laughed and started the engine, the car purring to life. He put it into gear and pulled away from the curb, careful of other vehicles as they merged into the sparse traffic of the neighborhood. “Takes one to know one.”

“Eh, you’re probably right. But unlike you, I don’t spread my wallet for every flashy girl that drives by.”

As Lex chuckled, he realized that it had been literally years since the last time he enjoyed spending idle time like this. In the past day alone, he’d genuinely laughed more than in the last year combined. There wasn’t a lot of good in his life, and he had forgotten that a lot of what there used to be was because of Clark. He gripped the steering wheel at that thought and his face fell.

“Lex?” Clark asked softly next to him.

“Yeah?” He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to look at his soon-to-be guest.

“Stop thinking so hard. We’ll figure this out.”

He felt the tension in his shoulders loosen and he relaxed his hold on the wheel as Clark shifted beside him, resting his head against the window, content to watch the streets go by. They both stayed quiet, thinking about everything that stood between them and a true reconciliation. Metropolis’ lights gleamed off of the dashboard and at a red light, Lex turned to Clark.

“Do you really think we can make this work, Clark? I mean, really?”

Clark was silent, his eyes locked on the street ahead of them, and Lex put the car back into motion when the light turned green. They drove in a hushed calm until the base of LexCorp Tower appeared in the distance, luminous windows shining under high-powered lamps and glorious shadows cast up the walls. The traffic thickened and Lex joined the fray as he shifted lanes to get to the underground parking lot.

“I think we can.” Clark said finally.

Lex glanced over and smiled slightly at the sight. Clark was sitting angled in the seat, his head rocking against the pane of glass behind it as the car started and stopped with the bottleneck traffic. His eyes were hooded, but he was looking at Lex with a fond expression, one that he hadn’t worn in years and one that made Lex’s chest ache with nostalgia.

“How?” Lex couldn’t help but ask, trying to see past the lies and deceptions, past the death and destruction and hatred.

“Deal with things one at a time. Not jump to conclusions or run when it gets bad.” He gave Lex a crooked smile. “Remember how to fight with something other than superpowers and kryptonite.”

“We didn’t fight, Clark. We screamed and beat the shit out of each other.”

“Screaming is good, there just has to be a point to it.”

Lex gripped the steering wheel again in a flash of agitation and breathed in deeply. His fingers spread out and he relaxed in the seat.

“You really think we can do this?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Superman?”

“I don’t want to be him anymore. Remember?” The other man’s voice was edged with irritation, and Lex found himself nodding, simply to appease the younger man.

“But what happens if you do, later down the road? What if you miss it?”

Clark sighed and turned his head to look out the windshield. “Then I guess that’s something we’ll have to take one step at a time.”

“Clark, I haven’t changed in the past two days. I’m still very much the same man. I’m willing to hurt people to get my way. I’m willing to kill if necessary.”

“… I know.”

“Then why are you so willing to tie yourself to me? We can’t just do the same thing as before, Clark. We can’t be friends and then start hating each other again. I can’t do that.” His voice was hoarse with rare emotion and he was angry at his lack of control.

Clark reached up to toy with the collar of the tee-shirt he was wearing. “We may have told each other more lies than the truth, Lex, but we took care of each other. No one messed with you if I could stop it and you did the same. I miss that.”

The Kryptonian looked out the window distantly. “Mom tries, but she doesn’t realize what it’s like to be different. At the end of things, I have to take care of myself. There isn’t anyone I can turn to that I trust. No one else has a burden like this and I’m tired of having to be my own source of strength. I can’t do it anymore.”

Lex couldn’t bring himself to respond after something like that so he simply drove the car into the parking basement. He checked Clark in with security so they knew their employer had an important guest, and the partition wall closed behind them as he entered his private garage. He parked the car and pulled the keys out, careful not to scratch the interior.

Clark was sluggish as he was helped out of his seat and Lex found himself supporting a great deal of the man’s weight as they approached the elevator. He pushed the call button and sighed in relief when the metal doors slipped open to reveal the bench that Mercy had added while he was gone. Clark slumped down onto it gratefully and rested his head against the wall, mumbling.

“You better have a nice bed.”

“Yes, Clark, the best.”

“There better be two of the best.”

Lex snorted but couldn’t stop the smirk from forming. He opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Clark may be making innuendoes right now, but he was tired and it didn’t mean that he wanted to be reminded of sex. His eyes narrowed as he remembered the exact reason for Clark’s hesitance and his rage returned at a lightning speed. He would get Clark settled and then go and deal with that bastard Valdez.

“Hm, Lex?” Clark muttered.

“Yeah, Clark?” He turned to look at his friend.

“Stop thinking so hard. Makes my brain hurt.”

He snorted again but nodded anyway. When the elevator stopped, he helped Clark up and half-dragged him down the hallway to one of the guest bedrooms that was beside his. Lex helped him down onto the covers, removed the other man's shoes, and pulled Clark into position so he could cover the limp form up. He hesitated before turning the nightstand lamp off and as he turned to leave, Clark reached out and clutched his wrist. He tugged Lex down onto the side of the bed and the billionaire looked down at him with curiosity.  Clark looked up at him with a solemn gaze.

“You’re going to go kill him.”

It was not an accusation and Lex’s hand reached up to push a loose strand of hair off of the sweaty forehead. He nodded, forcing himself to be honest with Clark. Clark hummed softly and let go of his wrist, curling up on his side facing the door. The life that had slipped back into Clark’s eyes was fading again, and Lex felt frustrated with himself.

He had always been able to do things, fix things. Either money or influence, many times both, usually moved any annoying obstacle that was in his way nowadays, so of course Lex forgot how difficult it was to help Clark. The younger man had always been unimpressed with both of Lex’s methods and was stubborn enough to refuse them on principle.

Lex blamed Jonathan.

“It’s safe here Clark.” Lex said soothingly, trying to stop his friend’s impending slip backwards in progress.

“I know.” Clark said easily, even though he began to withdraw into himself. “Lex?”

“Yes, Clark?”

He looked up at him, and Lex’s breath caught as the green irises seemed to glow with a grim, humorless light.

“Make it hurt.”

Lex felt his insides flip in surprise, and he carded his hand through Clark’s hair before standing in a single smooth motion.

“My pleasure.”