FIC: Light of a Distant Sun (Smallville, Clark/Lex, PG-13) (2/9)
Title: Light of a Distant Sun (2/9)
Author: Regann
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Summary: At one point in time, there are any number of futures possible, no matter how improbable they may seem. With a little help, Clark and Lex might find a better destiny waiting for them than the ones they're heading toward. Goes AU with the events of S3's "Extinction," and features a special guest appearance from a character from Gene Roddenberry's "Andromeda." Complete in NINE parts, to be posted over the next week or so.
Warnings/Notes: I know it sounds crazy, but just go with it. Spoilers for everything in Seasons 1 through 3, but also Season 7's "Artic." Also, this would've never be finished without the crazy support and beta-reading of kaitou_lili!
Past Chapters: 1
Light of a Distant Sun, Chapter 2
As Clark slowly regained consciousness, he was aware of the lack of pain in his shoulder and the fact that he was laying on something much more comfortable than Lex's kitchen floor. The last thing he remembered clearly was the instant the Kryptonite bullet had torn through his shoulder; he dimly recalled the moments after, begging Lex through the haze of pain not to send for any doctors, and then Lex leaning over him, muttering under his breath as he removed the bullet.
When the implications of it all sank in, Clark sat up quickly even as the action brought a wave of dizziness sweeping over him.
"Clark?" It was Lex, sitting at his side in a chair. They were in the library, Clark stretched out on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay," he said. "A little woozy."
"No doubt," Lex said. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned toward Clark. "If I'm not mistaken, Van McNulty shot you with a bullet made of meteor rock."
Lex said "meteor rock" with an anticipatory lilt that made Clark think that he might brandish it for proof, and he flinched against the expected pain caused by the Kryptonite's presence. When it didn't come, he relaxed to find Lex staring at him strangely, obviously expecting some kind of verbal response. "Uh, yeah."
"But that wasn't his M.O. before." Lex was watching him with shrewd eyes, an unfathomable expression on his face.
Clark started to shake his head, then regretted it. "No."
"Any idea why?"
Clark looked away before he answered. "Other than the fact that he's nuts?"
"Misguided, perhaps, but not necessarily insane," Lex said. "Care to try again?"
"Lex..."
Something about his tone on that single word made Lex's spine straighten and his shoulders go stiff. "Clark, I dug a bullet out of you at your request, without question." Each word was as sharp as the knife had been. "I don't think it's too much to ask that you tell me something, like why I couldn't call a doctor or why your wound healed up miraculously."
This was one of those conversations Clark always loathed with Lex and usually his friend had witnessed even less related to his powers. This time Lex had seen so much -- the Kryptonite bullet, his rapid healing. Clark wasn't even certain where to start lying to cover his tracks.
"I don't have time for this," he said. "I need to go find Van. He's still out there with his hit list, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop on his own." Clark stood, letting his anger fuel his movements. Unfortunately, the world started to spin a little. He must've swayed on his feet because suddenly Lex's hand was on his healed shoulder, pushing him back down onto the sofa.
His touch lingered. "Take it easy," Lex said. "Just because the meteor rocks have given you some kind of strange mutant ability doesn't mean..."
Clark sighed, but remained seated. "I'm not infected by the meteor rocks, Lex."
One pale eyebrow rose. "Pardon me if I have evidence to the contrary."
"I'm telling you the truth." There was hurt in his voice, even though Clark knew he didn't have a reason for it. He lied to Lex all the time, it shouldn't pain so much that Lex called him on it.
"And I'm supposed to just take your word for that, Clark?" Lex laughed a little, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "I mean, it's not like our relationship has been built much on trust." Lex rose to his feet and moved across the space with sharp, jerky movements, as if he could no longer stand to be so close to Clark.
Clark ignored the echo of dizziness as he followed, a hand on Lex's shoulder before he thought about it. "You don't understand."
Lex shrugged off his hand, spinning to face him. "I understand perfectly," he told him and Clark flinched from the anger that shook his friend's voice. He had never seen Lex so angry -- at his father, yes, but not at Clark. "I understand that you have lied to me for two years and I've accepted it for the sake of this friendship. But maybe the time has come where I stop making that sacrifice to preserve something that no longer seems worth the effort."
Clark could recall the feel of Lex's hand in his hair, promising help just after the bullet had ripped into him; he could remember his own bleakness when Lex, under Desiree's spell, had dismissed him from his life. He had never realized that words could cause more agony than that bullet had. "It is! Lex...you're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Well you have a funny way of showing it." The icy distance had cooled the fire of Lex's anger, and made something in Clark ache. "All the times you've lied to me..."
"You're not exactly a paragon of honesty yourself, Lex," Clark shot back. "Don't tell me you don't have secrets."
Lex opened his mouth, then closed it, eyes narrowing. Something flickered across his face. "I've trusted you with the most important parts of myself," he finally said. "I don't think you can say the same."
Clark was still reeling from that confession when the door to the office burst open at the hands of one of the bodyguards. "Mr. Luthor, Sheriff Adams is here," he said. "And she's asking about your friend here."
Lex shot Clark a look and sighed. "This evening just gets better and better."
Clark was on Lex's heels as they headed back to the entrance where Sheriff Adams stood, the red-and-blue flash of police lights visible through the opened door. She had her back to them as she spoke into her radio, but then she turned to face them, only to have her eyes go wide when they landed on Lex and Clark.
Clark wondered what had surprised her but then he glanced down at himself and Lex. His shirt hung open, buttons gone, exposing a swath of skin from his neck to the waistband of his jeans. Lex, usually as precise in his appearance as he was in everything else, had the sleeves of his pale gray shirt pushed up to his elbows, its fine cloth rumpled and creased. He hadn't realized until that moment how undone they both looked.
"Is there something I can help you with, Sheriff?" Lex asked, perfectly cool and courteous.
"Well, well." Her eyes stayed steady on Clark. "The rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated."
"What?"
She glanced back at Lex. "Dispatch got a call that said Mr. Kent here had been murdered," she explained. "First, we tried the farm but his folks hadn't seen him, but his mother said he'd told her he planned to stop by and see you, Mr. Luthor, so here we are."
"You can see that he has not been murdered," Lex said.
"I can," she said, as she clicked at the radio on her shoulder. "All clear at the Luthor estate," she said into it. "Clark's fine. Somebody call the Kents and let them know their boy's alive."
"Any idea why someone would make such a call?"
The sheriff shook her head, but Clark wasn't interested in the question, let alone the answer. He knew what he had to do -- and that was stopping Van.
As Sheriff Adams continued to speak with Lex, Clark edged around so that he was blocked from their sight by the door. In his head, Clark spared a silent apology to Lex for abandoning their earlier conversation.
Once he was sure neither Adams nor Lex was watching him, he whipped into super-speed and out of the mansion, pausing to make use of the radio in the police car.
"Van, I know you're listening. You didn't get me. If you want to finish this, meet me where I saw your dad's picture."
**
Lex wasn't surprised to find that Clark had vanished in the five seconds he'd taken his eyes off of him during his discussion with Sheriff Adams. Disappearing acts were one of Clark's many talents, right up there with telling lies badly and saving Lex's life. In fact, they were just one more step in the complicated dance they played to keep the status quo of their friendship intact. Lex would see something Clark refused to acknowledge, then Clark would disappear, time and distance like a reset button that quieted all the awkward questions between them.
And Lex had went along with it for two years, two years of hoping through trust or subtle subterfuge that he'd find out the truth. But it had yet to happen and Lex was tired of playing a waiting game in which he cautiously hoped Clark would come to him on his own and be honest with him. He should've known better -- the only thing Clark did right when it came to telling lies was tell them consistently.
The whole day had been much more taxing than Lex had realized because he had shared the shameful, sentimental truth that he had trusted Clark with everything important he had when Clark had trusted him with nothing. It wasn't something he had ever planned to admit, especially when he got nothing in return.
Clark probably expected Lex to fall into the usual pattern where the disruption of their talk would signal its end and they would both pretend to forget everything they'd said. But Lex had also spoke the truth when he'd told Clark he no longer wanted to make that sacrifice. If they were to have a future past tomorrow, Clark would be the one sacrificing something on the altar of their friendship.
The sun was just above the horizon when Lex pulled up to the Kent farm house, but he knew the family would be up and about, even on a Saturday. The backdoor was open, letting in the cool morning breeze, which smelled like the bread Mrs. Kent was obviously baking.
He tapped on the screen door. "Can I come in?"
Martha turned and smiled, a pan of muffins in her hand. "Of course, Lex. You're up early this morning."
Lex offered her a polite smile as the door closed behind him. "Is Clark around?"
"He should be in the barn," she said, carefully placing the pan on the counter. "Tell him that breakfast should be ready in half an hour or so."
Lex excused himself and headed out across the sunlit property toward the old barn. It was a familiar path from the farm house to the barn, up the stairs to Clark's hideout. Clark was there, as his mother said, sprawled out in the hammock, eyes unseeingly focused on some timber in the barn's roof. There was a severity to the lines of his face that seemed out of place, both for Clark and a bright Saturday morning.
"Your mother said you were up here."
"Lex!" Clark scrambled to sit up, drawing his legs over the side of the hammock. "What are you doing here?"
He spread his hands and shrugged. "I think that should be obvious. It's going to take more than a hasty departure to avoid finishing our conversation from last night."
Clark looked guilty, which gave Lex a tiny thrill of satisfaction. "That's not why I left," he said. "Someone had to stop Van, and I --"
Lex held up a gloved hand to stop his excuses. "I know, Clark. I'm well aware of your need to play hero. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let this drop."
"I'm...not sure what you want me to say, Lex."
Lex decided that an evasive answer was better than the usual lie. "I'd settle for the truth."
Clark sighed. "It's not that simple. I wish it was."
Another improvement. "Would it be easier if I go first?" Lex asked. "I'll go in reverse chronological order, start with the way you healed after I removed the meteor rock bullet from your shoulder and work my way back to how you survived the car crash that precipitated our first meeting."
"I thought we were friends," Clark said.
"I did, too."
"But, what? If I don't tell you whatever it is you think I'm hiding, we're not anymore?"
Lex hated it, but he could feel his determination wavering. The look on Clark's face -- frightened, hurt, angry, even a little betrayed -- was one he'd never wanted to see there, especially through his own actions. Despite all the frustrations between them, they were friends; Clark was probably the only real friend he'd ever had.
Was the truth worth losing that? Sometimes -- like last night -- he thought so. But then sometimes...he'd thought Clark was dying the day before. It was not a feeling he wanted to relive any time soon.
This time it was Lex who sighed. "No," he said softly. "Stuff of legend, remember?" He tried to smile at the reminder, but he couldn't quite manage it. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to know you trust me."
Clark was suddenly there, his hand was heavy and warm on his shoulder. "I do trust you."
"Of course you do." He had been trying for glib, but he missed by a mile, and tried another smile to hide his wince. "How could I think otherwise?"
Lex didn't dare look back as he marched out of the barn, got into his car, and left the Kent Farm behind in a cloud of dust.
**
The echo of Lex's high-performance vehicle had long since faded by the time Clark actually regained his ability to move. His mind was caught on replay, going over and over what had been said, first last night and then that morning.
"Clark! Breakfast!"
As Clark joined his parents at the table for breakfast, he realized he hadn't told them anything of what had happened yesterday. By the time he'd gotten back to the farm after his confrontation with Van, he had been too tired for anything more than assuring them he was alive and well, and letting his mom hug the daylights out of him. He had risen with dawn, his mind a jumble, and he had retreated to his fortress of solitude.
Then Lex had shown up.
"Are you sure you're all right?" his mother asked, her perceptive eyes noticing the way he picked at his food.
"I'm fine, Mom, but...there's some things I want to tell you and Dad, about last night."
"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked, setting down his fork in favor of his coffee cup.
"The reason Van thought he killed me was because he shot me...with kryptonite bullets."
"What?" His father's question and his mother's gasp mingled.
Clark reminded them of how Van had realized his weakness when Clark had stopped his attempt on Lex, and then hesitantly continued, telling them how when he'd stopped at the mansion to deliver the flowers from Trance's shop, Van had taken his chance.
"How did you -- were you hurt?" Martha asked, her hand gripping his arm.
"It was bad," Clark managed. "If I hadn't got the bullet out..."
"How did you?" his father asked.
"Lex." Clark reached for his orange juice to cover his desire to look away. "He pulled it out of me."
"What?" It was amazing how much anger his father could pack into a single word.
"He saved my life," he said.
"He saw the effect that kryptonite has on you," Jonathan told him. "That's dangerous knowledge for a Luthor to have."
"He saved my life," he repeated, glaring at his dad.
"And we're grateful for that." As always, his mother was ready to play mediator. "But, honey, your dad is right. You've seen what comes of people knowing how to exploit you like that."
"I know," Clark admitted. "But Lex is my friend and I trust him." It was the truth, but it was only part of a bigger truth, one that he knew his parents weren't going to like. Despite his reluctance earlier, Clark didn't want to lie to Lex, didn't want to keep so many secrets from him. And while he didn't believe in destiny the way Lex did, Clark couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't some sign that maybe it was time to trust his own instinct in lieu of his father's.
His parents shared a look, some silent conversation going on between with them. Clark wondered if someone would ever know him well enough to read his mind with a glance. "We know that, sweetheart," his mother finally said. "But it's not as simple as trusting or not trusting Lex."
His father was silent and probably had memories of Roger Nixon dancing in his head.
"Do you know how hard it is to lie to him all the time?" he asked them. "It's bad enough with Lana and Chloe, but Lex...he knows I'm hiding something. He knows I lie to him all the time, has since the beginning. It's amazing he still even wants to be my friend."
"You're not a dishonest person, Clark, you're just..."
"A habitual liar?"
His father sighed. "It's a fact of your life, like your abilities. You can't trust just anyone with your secrets."
Clark wanted to tell his father it wasn't just anyone he wanted to tell, it was Lex, but he couldn't force the words past his throat. Part of him worried that it was too soon after the summer for his family to be faced with something like this, while another part said the same was true for him and Lex. The conflict between those two parts kept Clark silent, caught somewhere between anger and sadness and resentment.
The tension didn't ease until Jonathan pushed back from the table and stood up, mumbling about chores. Clark and Martha watched in silence as he stalked out of the backdoor, the screen door banging shut behind him.
He felt his mother's hand on his and took the comfort she offered. "I told you once that you would have to carry the burden of your gifts on your own," she said softly. "In the end, it's your life and your secret. But it affects all of us, your decisions. Just remember that, okay?"
It was the closest he would ever get to permission, Clark realized as his mother quietly began to clear away three plates of uneaten breakfast, and it wasn't even really permission. It was a warning wrapped up in resignation; she knew that they couldn't stop him if his mind were truly made up, but she wanted him to be sure before he did.
So far, everyone Clark had trusted with his secret had been done without thought, just a gut reaction to the circumstances around him or an inadvertent slip in the heat of a fight. He didn't want to regret whatever decision he made about Lex because, for some reason, he knew it mattered more.
Lex mattered more.
Whatever happened next, Clark knew he had to be sure, for everyone's sakes.
**
Since his return to Smallville, Lex had only been vaguely aware of Trance Gemini and only because of her unlikely comraderie with Clark. Given a fraction of what he thought Clark was hiding from him, it didn't feel like paranoia to be concerned when a mysterious new resident in town showed an unusual amount of interest in a shy teenager.
His suspicions had been aroused further when it was a delivery from her shop that had put Clark in the crosshairs for McNulty's meteor rock bullet.
The few times Lex had been inside Nell's shop, it had been dim and refrigerator-cool, but Trance's shop was bright and humid, as if she had tried to recreate the tropical environment to which many of her plants were native. Lex didn't recognize all of the vegetation on display, but he knew enough of them to know they came from far-off exotic locales, some even he hadn't visited.
"Mr. Luthor," Trance said, setting aside her watering can. "This is a surprise. How can I help you?"
Lex laid the blank card from the arrangement on the counter between them. "I have a few questions about a delivery I received yesterday."
"So Clark got it out to you?" she asked pleasantly, her elbows propped against the countertop.
"He did," Lex said. "But the card was blank. I was wondering if there had been some mistake."
"No mistake," she said. "They were for you."
"Any way I can find out who was behind such a thoughtful gesture?" he asked.
She only smiled a little wider. "Who am I to ruin someone's act of anonymous kindness?"
Lex narrowed his eyes at the self-satisfied expression on her face. Clark might've been fooled by the too-innocent innocence in her eyes, but Lex had known enough tricksters in his time to resist the con.
"What I find interesting, Ms. Gemini, is that Clark's unexpected stop to deliver this Samartian's gift put him right where Van McNulty could find him." Lex's voice was pitched low, a mildly threatening rumble. He noticed a minute shift in Trance's expression, perhaps startlement. "That seems rather...coincidental, doesn't it?"
"I don't like what you're implying," she said. "Clark is my friend,"
"Friends don't always have our best interests at heart," Lex told her.
Trance's eyes watched his face intently. "You sound like you know a lot about that."
Lex tried to ignore the stab of that uncomfortable truth. "Clark is my friend, too. I don't like the thought of someone deliberately putting him in harm's way."
"Van would have found Clark somewhere else if it hadn't been at your home," Trance said. "I'm not to blame for his actions."
"That might be true," Lex conceded. "But I meant what I said about Clark."
There was a hint of a smile when she answered. "I know."
"Good day, Ms. Gemini."
Just before the door closed behind him, he heard Trance's last statement. "You have to admit it was lucky that you were there, wasn't it?"
Even after he left the flower shop, Lex didn't head straight back to the mansion. Instead, he drove the country roads like the maniac Jonathan Kent had once accused him of being. When the thrill of taking curves at breakneck speed worn thin, he finally went home, craving alcohol and solitude.
What he got was a bodyguard with a message. "Clark Kent is waiting for you in your office," the man explained. "He's been for over an hour and he, ah, declined our suggestion that he come back later."
Lex tried to ignore his quickened pulse at the news. "It's all right. I'll see to him in a minute."
He shed his gloves and his coat somewhere between the garage and his office, little displays of routine to delay the confrontation ahead of him. In his office, he found Clark sitting near the fireplace, nervousness in his gestures. He looked much as he had that morning, old jeans and bright blue T-shirt, jacket thrown across the cushion behind him.
"Clark."
He looked up and smiled, a little hesitant at one corner of his mouth. "Lex, I, uh, waited for you. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. I'm glad you felt you could."
"I was worried I wouldn't be able to," Clark admitted.
In the silence that followed, Lex busied himself with pouring himself a glass of scotch while Clark stared at the flames flickering in the fireplace.
"I've been thinking about what you said last night and this morning," Clark said, looking at his hands instead of Lex as he spoke.
"Don't worry about it," Lex said. He took a sip of his drink and sat down across from his guest. "I let my curiosity get the better of me yesterday and I apologize for that. Answers are not worth the loss of this friendship."
"Lex." The smile wasn't as hesitant as it had been a moment before and Lex couldn't explain why that made breathing easier, but it did. "I appreciate that but...that won't make it go away."
"No," he agreed. "It won't."
"We both know that I have secrets," Clark told him. "That's probably the only thing that's not one."
Lex suppressed a smile at the understatement.
Clark's hands clenched and unclenched where they lay in his lap. "I do want to tell you because I do trust you. I'm just not sure where to start."
"Clark," Lex warned. "Don't say anything you'll regret."
"I'm not," he said. "I won't." Clark took a deep breath and caught Lex's eyes with his own. He almost flinched from all the sincerity looking back at him from Clark's green eyes. "Go ahead. Ask me whatever it is you want to know."
Lex wondered if Clark even understood the rush he had to control, the selfish desire to lay it all bare with that kind of invitation. But he had been sincere when he'd said the fulfillment of his curiosity wasn't worth losing Clark. Some days, Lex felt like their friendship was all that kept him from succombing to the darkness he had inherited from his father.
Showing a restraint he didn't feel, Lex settled back in his chair and thought about how to proceed. Finally, he asked, his voice low and soft. "Did I hit you with my car?"
Clark nodded, swallowing. "Yeah."
"Can you read the writing on the cave walls?"
Clark started, as if he hadn't expected that question. "Yeah."
Lex wanted to follow that line but he stopped himself. "Are you as strong as I suspect you are?"
Clark looked down at his hands. "Probably stronger."
Something else he wanted to explore -- eventually.
"Why meteor rock bullets?"
Clark's eyelids fluttered, not quite a blink. "I'm allergic to them."
Lex reached out and laid a hand on Clark's arm, feeling the tense muscles move under his fingers. "I think that's enough for now. Much more honesty might be too great a shock to my system."
The smile was slow in coming, but when Clark finally managed it, it was blinding and it outshone even the most curious corners of Lex's dark mind.
Continue...
Author: Regann
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Summary: At one point in time, there are any number of futures possible, no matter how improbable they may seem. With a little help, Clark and Lex might find a better destiny waiting for them than the ones they're heading toward. Goes AU with the events of S3's "Extinction," and features a special guest appearance from a character from Gene Roddenberry's "Andromeda." Complete in NINE parts, to be posted over the next week or so.
Warnings/Notes: I know it sounds crazy, but just go with it. Spoilers for everything in Seasons 1 through 3, but also Season 7's "Artic." Also, this would've never be finished without the crazy support and beta-reading of kaitou_lili!
Past Chapters: 1
Light of a Distant Sun, Chapter 2
As Clark slowly regained consciousness, he was aware of the lack of pain in his shoulder and the fact that he was laying on something much more comfortable than Lex's kitchen floor. The last thing he remembered clearly was the instant the Kryptonite bullet had torn through his shoulder; he dimly recalled the moments after, begging Lex through the haze of pain not to send for any doctors, and then Lex leaning over him, muttering under his breath as he removed the bullet.
When the implications of it all sank in, Clark sat up quickly even as the action brought a wave of dizziness sweeping over him.
"Clark?" It was Lex, sitting at his side in a chair. They were in the library, Clark stretched out on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay," he said. "A little woozy."
"No doubt," Lex said. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned toward Clark. "If I'm not mistaken, Van McNulty shot you with a bullet made of meteor rock."
Lex said "meteor rock" with an anticipatory lilt that made Clark think that he might brandish it for proof, and he flinched against the expected pain caused by the Kryptonite's presence. When it didn't come, he relaxed to find Lex staring at him strangely, obviously expecting some kind of verbal response. "Uh, yeah."
"But that wasn't his M.O. before." Lex was watching him with shrewd eyes, an unfathomable expression on his face.
Clark started to shake his head, then regretted it. "No."
"Any idea why?"
Clark looked away before he answered. "Other than the fact that he's nuts?"
"Misguided, perhaps, but not necessarily insane," Lex said. "Care to try again?"
"Lex..."
Something about his tone on that single word made Lex's spine straighten and his shoulders go stiff. "Clark, I dug a bullet out of you at your request, without question." Each word was as sharp as the knife had been. "I don't think it's too much to ask that you tell me something, like why I couldn't call a doctor or why your wound healed up miraculously."
This was one of those conversations Clark always loathed with Lex and usually his friend had witnessed even less related to his powers. This time Lex had seen so much -- the Kryptonite bullet, his rapid healing. Clark wasn't even certain where to start lying to cover his tracks.
"I don't have time for this," he said. "I need to go find Van. He's still out there with his hit list, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop on his own." Clark stood, letting his anger fuel his movements. Unfortunately, the world started to spin a little. He must've swayed on his feet because suddenly Lex's hand was on his healed shoulder, pushing him back down onto the sofa.
His touch lingered. "Take it easy," Lex said. "Just because the meteor rocks have given you some kind of strange mutant ability doesn't mean..."
Clark sighed, but remained seated. "I'm not infected by the meteor rocks, Lex."
One pale eyebrow rose. "Pardon me if I have evidence to the contrary."
"I'm telling you the truth." There was hurt in his voice, even though Clark knew he didn't have a reason for it. He lied to Lex all the time, it shouldn't pain so much that Lex called him on it.
"And I'm supposed to just take your word for that, Clark?" Lex laughed a little, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "I mean, it's not like our relationship has been built much on trust." Lex rose to his feet and moved across the space with sharp, jerky movements, as if he could no longer stand to be so close to Clark.
Clark ignored the echo of dizziness as he followed, a hand on Lex's shoulder before he thought about it. "You don't understand."
Lex shrugged off his hand, spinning to face him. "I understand perfectly," he told him and Clark flinched from the anger that shook his friend's voice. He had never seen Lex so angry -- at his father, yes, but not at Clark. "I understand that you have lied to me for two years and I've accepted it for the sake of this friendship. But maybe the time has come where I stop making that sacrifice to preserve something that no longer seems worth the effort."
Clark could recall the feel of Lex's hand in his hair, promising help just after the bullet had ripped into him; he could remember his own bleakness when Lex, under Desiree's spell, had dismissed him from his life. He had never realized that words could cause more agony than that bullet had. "It is! Lex...you're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Well you have a funny way of showing it." The icy distance had cooled the fire of Lex's anger, and made something in Clark ache. "All the times you've lied to me..."
"You're not exactly a paragon of honesty yourself, Lex," Clark shot back. "Don't tell me you don't have secrets."
Lex opened his mouth, then closed it, eyes narrowing. Something flickered across his face. "I've trusted you with the most important parts of myself," he finally said. "I don't think you can say the same."
Clark was still reeling from that confession when the door to the office burst open at the hands of one of the bodyguards. "Mr. Luthor, Sheriff Adams is here," he said. "And she's asking about your friend here."
Lex shot Clark a look and sighed. "This evening just gets better and better."
Clark was on Lex's heels as they headed back to the entrance where Sheriff Adams stood, the red-and-blue flash of police lights visible through the opened door. She had her back to them as she spoke into her radio, but then she turned to face them, only to have her eyes go wide when they landed on Lex and Clark.
Clark wondered what had surprised her but then he glanced down at himself and Lex. His shirt hung open, buttons gone, exposing a swath of skin from his neck to the waistband of his jeans. Lex, usually as precise in his appearance as he was in everything else, had the sleeves of his pale gray shirt pushed up to his elbows, its fine cloth rumpled and creased. He hadn't realized until that moment how undone they both looked.
"Is there something I can help you with, Sheriff?" Lex asked, perfectly cool and courteous.
"Well, well." Her eyes stayed steady on Clark. "The rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated."
"What?"
She glanced back at Lex. "Dispatch got a call that said Mr. Kent here had been murdered," she explained. "First, we tried the farm but his folks hadn't seen him, but his mother said he'd told her he planned to stop by and see you, Mr. Luthor, so here we are."
"You can see that he has not been murdered," Lex said.
"I can," she said, as she clicked at the radio on her shoulder. "All clear at the Luthor estate," she said into it. "Clark's fine. Somebody call the Kents and let them know their boy's alive."
"Any idea why someone would make such a call?"
The sheriff shook her head, but Clark wasn't interested in the question, let alone the answer. He knew what he had to do -- and that was stopping Van.
As Sheriff Adams continued to speak with Lex, Clark edged around so that he was blocked from their sight by the door. In his head, Clark spared a silent apology to Lex for abandoning their earlier conversation.
Once he was sure neither Adams nor Lex was watching him, he whipped into super-speed and out of the mansion, pausing to make use of the radio in the police car.
"Van, I know you're listening. You didn't get me. If you want to finish this, meet me where I saw your dad's picture."
**
Lex wasn't surprised to find that Clark had vanished in the five seconds he'd taken his eyes off of him during his discussion with Sheriff Adams. Disappearing acts were one of Clark's many talents, right up there with telling lies badly and saving Lex's life. In fact, they were just one more step in the complicated dance they played to keep the status quo of their friendship intact. Lex would see something Clark refused to acknowledge, then Clark would disappear, time and distance like a reset button that quieted all the awkward questions between them.
And Lex had went along with it for two years, two years of hoping through trust or subtle subterfuge that he'd find out the truth. But it had yet to happen and Lex was tired of playing a waiting game in which he cautiously hoped Clark would come to him on his own and be honest with him. He should've known better -- the only thing Clark did right when it came to telling lies was tell them consistently.
The whole day had been much more taxing than Lex had realized because he had shared the shameful, sentimental truth that he had trusted Clark with everything important he had when Clark had trusted him with nothing. It wasn't something he had ever planned to admit, especially when he got nothing in return.
Clark probably expected Lex to fall into the usual pattern where the disruption of their talk would signal its end and they would both pretend to forget everything they'd said. But Lex had also spoke the truth when he'd told Clark he no longer wanted to make that sacrifice. If they were to have a future past tomorrow, Clark would be the one sacrificing something on the altar of their friendship.
The sun was just above the horizon when Lex pulled up to the Kent farm house, but he knew the family would be up and about, even on a Saturday. The backdoor was open, letting in the cool morning breeze, which smelled like the bread Mrs. Kent was obviously baking.
He tapped on the screen door. "Can I come in?"
Martha turned and smiled, a pan of muffins in her hand. "Of course, Lex. You're up early this morning."
Lex offered her a polite smile as the door closed behind him. "Is Clark around?"
"He should be in the barn," she said, carefully placing the pan on the counter. "Tell him that breakfast should be ready in half an hour or so."
Lex excused himself and headed out across the sunlit property toward the old barn. It was a familiar path from the farm house to the barn, up the stairs to Clark's hideout. Clark was there, as his mother said, sprawled out in the hammock, eyes unseeingly focused on some timber in the barn's roof. There was a severity to the lines of his face that seemed out of place, both for Clark and a bright Saturday morning.
"Your mother said you were up here."
"Lex!" Clark scrambled to sit up, drawing his legs over the side of the hammock. "What are you doing here?"
He spread his hands and shrugged. "I think that should be obvious. It's going to take more than a hasty departure to avoid finishing our conversation from last night."
Clark looked guilty, which gave Lex a tiny thrill of satisfaction. "That's not why I left," he said. "Someone had to stop Van, and I --"
Lex held up a gloved hand to stop his excuses. "I know, Clark. I'm well aware of your need to play hero. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let this drop."
"I'm...not sure what you want me to say, Lex."
Lex decided that an evasive answer was better than the usual lie. "I'd settle for the truth."
Clark sighed. "It's not that simple. I wish it was."
Another improvement. "Would it be easier if I go first?" Lex asked. "I'll go in reverse chronological order, start with the way you healed after I removed the meteor rock bullet from your shoulder and work my way back to how you survived the car crash that precipitated our first meeting."
"I thought we were friends," Clark said.
"I did, too."
"But, what? If I don't tell you whatever it is you think I'm hiding, we're not anymore?"
Lex hated it, but he could feel his determination wavering. The look on Clark's face -- frightened, hurt, angry, even a little betrayed -- was one he'd never wanted to see there, especially through his own actions. Despite all the frustrations between them, they were friends; Clark was probably the only real friend he'd ever had.
Was the truth worth losing that? Sometimes -- like last night -- he thought so. But then sometimes...he'd thought Clark was dying the day before. It was not a feeling he wanted to relive any time soon.
This time it was Lex who sighed. "No," he said softly. "Stuff of legend, remember?" He tried to smile at the reminder, but he couldn't quite manage it. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to know you trust me."
Clark was suddenly there, his hand was heavy and warm on his shoulder. "I do trust you."
"Of course you do." He had been trying for glib, but he missed by a mile, and tried another smile to hide his wince. "How could I think otherwise?"
Lex didn't dare look back as he marched out of the barn, got into his car, and left the Kent Farm behind in a cloud of dust.
**
The echo of Lex's high-performance vehicle had long since faded by the time Clark actually regained his ability to move. His mind was caught on replay, going over and over what had been said, first last night and then that morning.
"Clark! Breakfast!"
As Clark joined his parents at the table for breakfast, he realized he hadn't told them anything of what had happened yesterday. By the time he'd gotten back to the farm after his confrontation with Van, he had been too tired for anything more than assuring them he was alive and well, and letting his mom hug the daylights out of him. He had risen with dawn, his mind a jumble, and he had retreated to his fortress of solitude.
Then Lex had shown up.
"Are you sure you're all right?" his mother asked, her perceptive eyes noticing the way he picked at his food.
"I'm fine, Mom, but...there's some things I want to tell you and Dad, about last night."
"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked, setting down his fork in favor of his coffee cup.
"The reason Van thought he killed me was because he shot me...with kryptonite bullets."
"What?" His father's question and his mother's gasp mingled.
Clark reminded them of how Van had realized his weakness when Clark had stopped his attempt on Lex, and then hesitantly continued, telling them how when he'd stopped at the mansion to deliver the flowers from Trance's shop, Van had taken his chance.
"How did you -- were you hurt?" Martha asked, her hand gripping his arm.
"It was bad," Clark managed. "If I hadn't got the bullet out..."
"How did you?" his father asked.
"Lex." Clark reached for his orange juice to cover his desire to look away. "He pulled it out of me."
"What?" It was amazing how much anger his father could pack into a single word.
"He saved my life," he said.
"He saw the effect that kryptonite has on you," Jonathan told him. "That's dangerous knowledge for a Luthor to have."
"He saved my life," he repeated, glaring at his dad.
"And we're grateful for that." As always, his mother was ready to play mediator. "But, honey, your dad is right. You've seen what comes of people knowing how to exploit you like that."
"I know," Clark admitted. "But Lex is my friend and I trust him." It was the truth, but it was only part of a bigger truth, one that he knew his parents weren't going to like. Despite his reluctance earlier, Clark didn't want to lie to Lex, didn't want to keep so many secrets from him. And while he didn't believe in destiny the way Lex did, Clark couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't some sign that maybe it was time to trust his own instinct in lieu of his father's.
His parents shared a look, some silent conversation going on between with them. Clark wondered if someone would ever know him well enough to read his mind with a glance. "We know that, sweetheart," his mother finally said. "But it's not as simple as trusting or not trusting Lex."
His father was silent and probably had memories of Roger Nixon dancing in his head.
"Do you know how hard it is to lie to him all the time?" he asked them. "It's bad enough with Lana and Chloe, but Lex...he knows I'm hiding something. He knows I lie to him all the time, has since the beginning. It's amazing he still even wants to be my friend."
"You're not a dishonest person, Clark, you're just..."
"A habitual liar?"
His father sighed. "It's a fact of your life, like your abilities. You can't trust just anyone with your secrets."
Clark wanted to tell his father it wasn't just anyone he wanted to tell, it was Lex, but he couldn't force the words past his throat. Part of him worried that it was too soon after the summer for his family to be faced with something like this, while another part said the same was true for him and Lex. The conflict between those two parts kept Clark silent, caught somewhere between anger and sadness and resentment.
The tension didn't ease until Jonathan pushed back from the table and stood up, mumbling about chores. Clark and Martha watched in silence as he stalked out of the backdoor, the screen door banging shut behind him.
He felt his mother's hand on his and took the comfort she offered. "I told you once that you would have to carry the burden of your gifts on your own," she said softly. "In the end, it's your life and your secret. But it affects all of us, your decisions. Just remember that, okay?"
It was the closest he would ever get to permission, Clark realized as his mother quietly began to clear away three plates of uneaten breakfast, and it wasn't even really permission. It was a warning wrapped up in resignation; she knew that they couldn't stop him if his mind were truly made up, but she wanted him to be sure before he did.
So far, everyone Clark had trusted with his secret had been done without thought, just a gut reaction to the circumstances around him or an inadvertent slip in the heat of a fight. He didn't want to regret whatever decision he made about Lex because, for some reason, he knew it mattered more.
Lex mattered more.
Whatever happened next, Clark knew he had to be sure, for everyone's sakes.
**
Since his return to Smallville, Lex had only been vaguely aware of Trance Gemini and only because of her unlikely comraderie with Clark. Given a fraction of what he thought Clark was hiding from him, it didn't feel like paranoia to be concerned when a mysterious new resident in town showed an unusual amount of interest in a shy teenager.
His suspicions had been aroused further when it was a delivery from her shop that had put Clark in the crosshairs for McNulty's meteor rock bullet.
The few times Lex had been inside Nell's shop, it had been dim and refrigerator-cool, but Trance's shop was bright and humid, as if she had tried to recreate the tropical environment to which many of her plants were native. Lex didn't recognize all of the vegetation on display, but he knew enough of them to know they came from far-off exotic locales, some even he hadn't visited.
"Mr. Luthor," Trance said, setting aside her watering can. "This is a surprise. How can I help you?"
Lex laid the blank card from the arrangement on the counter between them. "I have a few questions about a delivery I received yesterday."
"So Clark got it out to you?" she asked pleasantly, her elbows propped against the countertop.
"He did," Lex said. "But the card was blank. I was wondering if there had been some mistake."
"No mistake," she said. "They were for you."
"Any way I can find out who was behind such a thoughtful gesture?" he asked.
She only smiled a little wider. "Who am I to ruin someone's act of anonymous kindness?"
Lex narrowed his eyes at the self-satisfied expression on her face. Clark might've been fooled by the too-innocent innocence in her eyes, but Lex had known enough tricksters in his time to resist the con.
"What I find interesting, Ms. Gemini, is that Clark's unexpected stop to deliver this Samartian's gift put him right where Van McNulty could find him." Lex's voice was pitched low, a mildly threatening rumble. He noticed a minute shift in Trance's expression, perhaps startlement. "That seems rather...coincidental, doesn't it?"
"I don't like what you're implying," she said. "Clark is my friend,"
"Friends don't always have our best interests at heart," Lex told her.
Trance's eyes watched his face intently. "You sound like you know a lot about that."
Lex tried to ignore the stab of that uncomfortable truth. "Clark is my friend, too. I don't like the thought of someone deliberately putting him in harm's way."
"Van would have found Clark somewhere else if it hadn't been at your home," Trance said. "I'm not to blame for his actions."
"That might be true," Lex conceded. "But I meant what I said about Clark."
There was a hint of a smile when she answered. "I know."
"Good day, Ms. Gemini."
Just before the door closed behind him, he heard Trance's last statement. "You have to admit it was lucky that you were there, wasn't it?"
Even after he left the flower shop, Lex didn't head straight back to the mansion. Instead, he drove the country roads like the maniac Jonathan Kent had once accused him of being. When the thrill of taking curves at breakneck speed worn thin, he finally went home, craving alcohol and solitude.
What he got was a bodyguard with a message. "Clark Kent is waiting for you in your office," the man explained. "He's been for over an hour and he, ah, declined our suggestion that he come back later."
Lex tried to ignore his quickened pulse at the news. "It's all right. I'll see to him in a minute."
He shed his gloves and his coat somewhere between the garage and his office, little displays of routine to delay the confrontation ahead of him. In his office, he found Clark sitting near the fireplace, nervousness in his gestures. He looked much as he had that morning, old jeans and bright blue T-shirt, jacket thrown across the cushion behind him.
"Clark."
He looked up and smiled, a little hesitant at one corner of his mouth. "Lex, I, uh, waited for you. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. I'm glad you felt you could."
"I was worried I wouldn't be able to," Clark admitted.
In the silence that followed, Lex busied himself with pouring himself a glass of scotch while Clark stared at the flames flickering in the fireplace.
"I've been thinking about what you said last night and this morning," Clark said, looking at his hands instead of Lex as he spoke.
"Don't worry about it," Lex said. He took a sip of his drink and sat down across from his guest. "I let my curiosity get the better of me yesterday and I apologize for that. Answers are not worth the loss of this friendship."
"Lex." The smile wasn't as hesitant as it had been a moment before and Lex couldn't explain why that made breathing easier, but it did. "I appreciate that but...that won't make it go away."
"No," he agreed. "It won't."
"We both know that I have secrets," Clark told him. "That's probably the only thing that's not one."
Lex suppressed a smile at the understatement.
Clark's hands clenched and unclenched where they lay in his lap. "I do want to tell you because I do trust you. I'm just not sure where to start."
"Clark," Lex warned. "Don't say anything you'll regret."
"I'm not," he said. "I won't." Clark took a deep breath and caught Lex's eyes with his own. He almost flinched from all the sincerity looking back at him from Clark's green eyes. "Go ahead. Ask me whatever it is you want to know."
Lex wondered if Clark even understood the rush he had to control, the selfish desire to lay it all bare with that kind of invitation. But he had been sincere when he'd said the fulfillment of his curiosity wasn't worth losing Clark. Some days, Lex felt like their friendship was all that kept him from succombing to the darkness he had inherited from his father.
Showing a restraint he didn't feel, Lex settled back in his chair and thought about how to proceed. Finally, he asked, his voice low and soft. "Did I hit you with my car?"
Clark nodded, swallowing. "Yeah."
"Can you read the writing on the cave walls?"
Clark started, as if he hadn't expected that question. "Yeah."
Lex wanted to follow that line but he stopped himself. "Are you as strong as I suspect you are?"
Clark looked down at his hands. "Probably stronger."
Something else he wanted to explore -- eventually.
"Why meteor rock bullets?"
Clark's eyelids fluttered, not quite a blink. "I'm allergic to them."
Lex reached out and laid a hand on Clark's arm, feeling the tense muscles move under his fingers. "I think that's enough for now. Much more honesty might be too great a shock to my system."
The smile was slow in coming, but when Clark finally managed it, it was blinding and it outshone even the most curious corners of Lex's dark mind.
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