Avoid

Title: Avoid
Pairing(s): Clex.
Spoilers: up to Season 5 'Void'
Category: episode-related, drama, angst, romance
Rating: R
Summary: A re-write of 'Void.' A broken-hearted Lana seeks solace in a kryptonite-laced drug that provides temporary passage to the afterlife. While trying to help, Clark and Lex face some near death experiences of their own, prompting significant revelations. Meanwhile, Chloe researches into Milton Fine, Lionel continues his attempts to get closer to Martha and Jor-el's prophecy is finally fulfilled.

Lana was gazing through the manor's stained-glass window when Clark arrived. She turned as though expecting him and waited, still and silent.

"Hey..." Clark called softly, walking over. Lana didn't respond, just blinked her wide, demanding eyes, and in a sudden rush of understanding Clark realised why he was there. "I'm sorry," he said, not in the agonised tone of his usual apologies, but plainly and heart-felt. "Everything I've put you through, all the lies, the mixed signals- I didn't understand. I didn't know what I wanted. I never meant to hurt you, but I have. And for that, I'm truly, truly sorry." Clark placed a pair of confident hands on her shoulders, face warm with new hope and certainty. "But I think I'm finally starting to figure it out. I know what to do now."

Closing his eyes, Clark leant in for a kiss. But the lips finding his weren't Lana's soft, pouting ones - they were firmer, seeking his touch, not yielding to it. The hands against his back were wide and strong and Clark felt along broad shoulders to a smooth, hairless scalp.

Clark whimpered as the kiss broke, and opened his eyes to pools of cool, blue.

"I forgive you, Clark," the other man said, voice gentle, lips curving in a tender smile. And Clark's heart thumped with an almost painful burst of joy, his own mouth widening to a beam. Eyes closed once more, he leant in again...

...and his nose collided heavily with something rough and hard. Snapping his eyelids back up in surprise, Clark was confronted with a flat, white surface, inches from his face. He put a hand to it, blinking in confusion, and just had time to think Odd... looks like my bedroom ceiling, before he was falling, eyes and mouth wide with shock. His back hit the bed with a thump, followed quickly by a sharp crack as wooden legs buckled under the sudden weight. Shaking his head a little, Clark sat up, a small frown crossing his face as he looked from the ceiling to the broken bed. This sort of thing wasn't unheard of, true, but it had been years since the last time and in his dream... had that been... Lex?

"Clark? Son? You alright?" Jonathan called from downstairs.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, dad," Clark yelled back hurriedly.

Ever since the calling off of his and Lana's engagement, his parents had been overly touchy with him, panicking at every little sign of discomfort as though he might break if so much as a teaspoon were out of line. Clark definitely didn't want them prying into this... he wasn't even sure he wanted to pry into it.

"Okay, if you're sure..." Jonathan muttered back, fortunately distracted. "Well, your mom and I are heading to the press conference at the Talon, we'll see you later."

"Okay, sure," Clark called, falling back against the bed in relief.

He'd forgotten about the press conference. He'd probably have been pushed into attending if it hadn't been for the break-up, but as it was Jonathan and Martha were trying to disturb him as little as possible. A small mercy. Clark felt the constant, worried whispering behind his back was much worse. Even now, as they stepped out the door, he could hear the two of them muttering their concern - and their regret. Clark sighed. I need to get away from this...

Before the counter at the Talon, Jonathan resisted the urge to pull against his pristine white collar. Constricting as it was under the formal black jacket, he had to keep up a show of confidence for the group of reporters flashing cameras and waving notebooks in front of him, and five times in twenty minutes really would be too many.

"...basically the upshot of what I'm saying," he continued, voice strong and demanding. "Is that this small tax increase could make a huge difference in our public schools."

He finished with a firm nod and while several reporters jotted down notes a smartly dressed black woman pushed through the throng.

"Senator," she called. "How do you feel abut Clayton's allegation that your proposal will drain money from the constituents while failing to help schools?"

"I'd be more than happy to respond to the congressman's concerns, should congressman Clayton care to ask me in person," Jonathan told the woman, biting back his irritation - the press already knew he and Clayton didn't see eye to eye, he didn't want them insinuating it was anything more than a professional disagreement.

Leaning against the wall by the entrance, Martha Kent watched her husband proudly as he responded to the continuing questions. In support of the conference, she was also formalised - decked in a stylish maroon jacket and skirt, hair neatly tied in a bun. More comfortable clothes were waiting for her in the staff room at the back, and like Jonathan, she couldn't wait to change, but even so, she couldn't help feeling a little excited at the official buzz now filling the room.

"Nice strategy," a voice commented beside her, and Martha turned to see Lionel Luthor moving over, usual suit and tie for once not looking out of place. He nodded to Jonathan in explanation. "When attacked, come out fighting."

Martha smiled at the praise.

"He means it too," she nodded. "A public debate is what we're hoping for."

"We?" Lionel questioned, raising his eyebrows, apparently casually. "I didn't realise the Senatorial position had become a partnership."

The smile lessened.

"I understand your concern," she nodded, recalling the man's previous fears about Jonathan's effect on her independence. "But really, it's not like that at all. I admit I was worried at first, but Jonathan's never forced my involvement in any of his work, and I'm actually enjoying discussing political campaigns with him. It reminds me of my time in Metropolis."

"Ah, well, that's good to hear," Lionel smiled, flatly, eyes implying the opposite.

"Oh, and Lionel," Martha added, smile returning. "I can't thank you enough for your help these past few weeks - the use of your helicopter, getting Jonathan a seat in that meeting the other week. I can't think how you got him to agree to it all, but it's been a great help, I really appreciate it."

Lionel's eyes sparkled again, lips a curve of satisfaction.

"Oh, it's nothing, really," he shook his head in a show of modesty. "I'm just glad to be of assistance. Which reminds me, I've brought something for your husband I thought might give him a bit of an edge at the Governor's dinner tonight." He searched through his jacket pockets for a moment, eventually finding a stack of folded papers. "A copy of my research," he explained. "I'm attending the event also, as you're no doubt aware, and this details everything there is to know about our dinner companions."

Martha gave a short sigh, previously welcoming expression turning defensive.

"Believe it or not, Lionel, Jonathan has done his homework," she said, hurt at the apparent slight. "He knows each person's position and what their voting record is, we went over it together."

Unphased by Martha's sudden coldness, Lionel merely tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"Of course, I expected no less," he insisted. "But this is information of a different sort, here take a look." He held the papers out and Martha took them with a shrug. Opening them up she read out the top line.

"Congressman Clayton... plays polo?" she looked up in surprise and Lionel hummed in the affirmative.

"His passion," he elaborated brightly. Martha, curious now, continued.

"His daughter's a gymnast," she read, nodding with interest.

"Olympic standard," Lionel added and Martha looked up again, questioning. "Look, it may be a political function," Lionel explained kindly. "But in my experience the last thing anyone wants to do over dinner is talk shop. It's another way to connect with your colleges. In fact, in many ways the information may prove more beneficial for you than Jonathan. There's no reason you should be bogged down by business over your meal; this might provide a starting point for more pleasant conversation."

Lionel widened his mouth in a charming smile, but Martha ignored it and re-folded the papers, the glow in her eyes fading a little.

"Oh, I'm not going to the dinner," she explained. "I thought it would be better if I didn't intrude."

"What?" Lionel responded, tone mildly condemning. "Nonsense, Martha, you must attend. This is hardly a stuffy business meeting, or a frantic press conference." He waved a hand over the reporters before them in emphasis. "There'll be good food, wine, very likely music as well. Why, it's one of the few perks politics has to offer, you can't possibly let such an opportunity pass by."

The gentle pleading in Lionel's tone coaxed Martha back to a smile again.

"Well, I'll certainly think about it," she nodded. "And thank you, for the information."

A small lull in questioning gave Jonathan some free time and he instinctively looked to his wife, gaze reaching the Talon entrance just in time to catch the bright, affectionate grin passing between her and the other man. His own smile faded at once, replaced by troubled frown - cameras flashing over it relentlessly.

It was well into afternoon when Lex stepped, a little nervously, into the Kawatche caves and headed for the back chamber.

He fingered the slit in the stone there for a moment, before pulling the Kryptonian key from his pocket. With a quick breath to dispel the tension seeming to seep across time from his last visit, he slipped the disc into its allotted place. The strange, gut-retching teleport was even more disorientating solo, and Lex had trouble regaining his balance once the shining white of the Fortress appeared around him.

He looked round intently as he slipped the key back in his pocket and pulled his black jacket tightly over his plum coloured shirt. Fuck, forgot it would be cold! His eyes lingered over the panel of crystals to the right, but he fought back the urge to examine them - he wasn't here for that.

"Clark?" he called as he stepped passed the panel, a quiet echo of the word circling around him and through the labyrinth of passageways beyond. "Are you here?"

There was a scraping by one of the crystallised pillars to his left and Clark's familiar primary coloured form appeared from behind it. It was strange, Lex thought, that someone so warm should inherit a place so cold.

"Lex?" Clark asked, forehead crinkling in surprise and, oddly, a little anxiety, as he brushed ice off the arm of his own red jacket. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mother called," Lex explained, walking over. "She found out you weren't in class this morning and was... concerned. And when Martha Kent expresses anxiety, you make sure to listen," He raised his eyebrows with a small grin, before resting a shoulder against the icy pillar himself. Clark leant his back against the front of it with a sigh, the vapours of escaping air practically dancing with exasperation.

"She's checking at my college now?" he muttered, shoulders sagging. "I know it's just cos she cares, but honestly it's getting ridiculous. I'll bet anything she called Chloe too..." Clark shook his head lightly while Lex offered silent sympathy. After a moment, Clark turned back to his friend, brow furrowed. "How did you find me?"

"You kidding?" Lex responded, eyes shining as his lips quirked into a familiar half grin. "If I had a place in the middle of nowhere like this, it's exactly where I'd go to get away."

Clark relaxed in a smile of his own.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the sympathy," he explained - glad to have an open ear. "But it's getting kind of restricting. I mean - it's just a broken engagement, not an apocalypse." He rested his head against the pillar with another sigh. "It wasn't so bad when Pete was still around," he continued dully. "After the initial shock he was pretty cool with it, but he left for Wichita again the other day."

"I know," Lex added. "He dropped by the mansion to say goodbye."

Clark's vexation quickly switched to surprise.

"Really?" he queried, flashing a bemused smile. Lex raised his head slightly in the affirmative. "Wow. You know he never said a single thing against you the whole time he was here, not since..." Clark drifted off to an awkward pause. After a second of floundering he managed to continue. "Not since the end of the engagement... What the hell happened with you two?"

Lex chose to ignore the blatant gap in his friend's comment, and gave a small, not-quite-natural smile instead.

During the weeks since Simone, neither had mentioned their kiss during Clark's spell of hypnosis. Early on, Lex had feared a confrontation almost constantly, but Clark's continued silence on the matter suggested he was happy just to ignore the whole thing and if so, Lex was happy to comply. Their relationship was rocky enough without adding unrequited feelings.

"I guess you could say, we bonded over a shared experience," Lex replied.

Clark shrugged, predictably oblivious.

"Okay, whatever," he muttered. "I'm just glad the two of you are finally getting along..." His face clouded. "I mean... it shows a change of heart isn't so strange, right?"

The older man flattened his smile.

"Would you, by any chance, be referring to you and Lana?" he prodded gently. Clark bit his lip and looked away. "Having second thoughts?" Lex pressed, trying to ignore the voice in his head screaming: please say no! please say no! As it turned out, though, the plea was vindicated.

"No, I'm not," Clark stated, turning his head with surprising firmness. "That's what no one seems to understand. They think I'm gonna break down with remorse any second, but it's just not true. I'm sorry Lana got hurt, really sorry, and yeah, it's weird us not being together anymore... but I'm not sorry it's over. It's like, it wasn't just Simone's hypnosis I woke up from that day. I've spent my life trying so hard to be normal, and Lana was a part of that. But you were right Lex, there's no such thing as normal, I've been searching for something that never existed and..." Clark rested his head against the pillar again, closing his eyes in a guilty grimace. "God, that's terrible isn't it? Like I've been leading her on all this time."

Lex reached a hand out to the other man's shoulder, only to pull back at the last minute. Clark was confused enough right now, Lex didn't want contact from him to make things worse. No matter how badly he wanted to give it.

"Clark, it's not terrible," he said, slipping his hands in his pockets to keep them still. "It's just..." He looked away with a small chuckle. "It's just human." When Lex turned back Clark's green eyes were open again, gazing at him hopefully, perhaps gratefully, and Lex smiled gently at the expression. "I know how easy it is to convince yourself of something. You get carried away, until the goal you're striving for becomes more important than your desire for it." He paused; seeing again Clark's silhouette stepping through a darkened doorway, slamming the door behind him; re-living the lonely company of worthless objects and computer sims. The moment Lex realised Clark's secret meant nothing compared to his friendship. A moment Lex feared had come far too late. "It's fortunate, really, you and Lana worked things out before the wedding. I wasn't so lucky with Helen."

Lex finished with a matter-of-fact shrug, overcompensating perhaps for the emotion of the memory, and it was Clark's turn to look sympathetic.

Then his brow furrowed, eyes turning thoughtful.

"You always understand," he said, voice lowered to a whisper, mouth flicking in the smallest of smiles.

Lex gazed at the other man's grateful, beautiful face with silent intensity, the wrinkles there only heightening the charm. It would be so easy to kiss him again. Smooth those lines away with a quick, gentle touch. Lex knew he could do it, slip through Clark's defences - minimal at best - persuade him, seduce him. He certainly had the sexual advantage. Yes, he could do it...

But he couldn't. He couldn't play Clark like that. He didn't want to.

Affection like that, to not want to take advantage, and with the two of them so close - it was overpowering. Lex stepped away quickly, flashing a fake smile.

"Such is the benefit of age and experience, Clark," he said, turning to scan the intricate web of crystal making up a near-by wall in an effort to curb his emotions.

Behind him, a brief, confused flash of disappointment crossed the younger man's face.

"So," Lex continued, expression soon controlled enough for him to face the other man again. "Do I need to drag you out of here, or should word of your safety be sufficient reassurance for your mom?"

Clark blinked back his previous intensity with a sense of relief and ducked his head in a small grin.

"Nah, I should probably head back anyway, I need to..." But what Clark needed to do Lex never found out, because the other man stopped mid-sentence to shoot Lex a sudden, perplexed look. "Lex, how did you get here?"

Lex nodded, clearly expecting the question, and quickly pulled the octagonal disc from his pocket.

"You left this at the mansion," he explained, holding it up. "Along with some clothes. I figured you hardly needed it get here. Although to be honest, I expected you to have asked for it before now."

Clark shook his head, looking appalled.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself. "I completely forgot. I've still got those clothes I took as well." His face creased in familiar contrition. "Lex, again, I'm really sorry about—"

"Don't worry about it," Lex cut him off, waving his hand. "For once I know for certain you weren't yourself. Besides, the whole thing was partly my fault anyway. I should have taken better care of that stone."

"Hey, that guy at 33.1, the one Simone mentioned, did you find him?" Clark asked in quick concern.

"Stokes? He's ancient history," Lex assured. "And security's been thoroughly tightened since the theft."

"Good," Clark nodded seriously and the two of them smiled - whatever else was going on, when it came to 33.1, at least, they were still happily united.

"Here, you better take this," Lex held the key out again. "Before I decide I don't want to give it back."

The short laugh implying a joke came just a few seconds too late and Clark paused to look over his friend for a moment, green eyes deepening with thought.

"You know what?" he said lightly. "You keep it."

Lex blinked.

"Clark..." he began in protest.

"No, really," Clark insisted. "You'll probably keep it safer than I can, and this way, the next time you want a place in the middle of nowhere, you'll have one. You can come here whenever you want."

Lex looked down to try and cover his astonishment and Clark beamed - he liked being able to break Lex's cool like this, he'd never realised before just how much of an effect he had on the other man. Maybe one day he'd even make him blush...

"Thanks," Lex muttered, raising his eyes from the key to Clark and back again.

He twisted it round slightly, white glare glinting off its surface. He'd spent so much time in the past agonising over the thing, trying to keep hold of it, understand it, learn the truth behind it. It was incredible to think, after all that, everything he'd ever wanted should just be handed to him like this, no strings attached.

His gaze rested once again on Clark.

Well, almost everything.

Clark had just reached the outskirts of Metropolis when Chloe called announcing a problem, letting him whiz to her dorm a whole split second faster than usual. As he reached the door, though, he lost the advantage by pausing self-consciously and eventually raised a hand to the wood in a tentative knock a good thirty seconds later. A surprised Chloe in loose pink sweater, hair tied casually back, opened the door soon after.

"Fast, but oddly formal," she noted, stepping aside to let him in. "Usually when I say it's urgent you leap in here without the least regard for my privacy."

Clark hung about in the doorway with a brief smile of apology.

"I didn't want to... disturb you," he muttered, gaze weary as he looked inside, and Chloe raised her head in a gesture of understanding.

"It's alright, Lana's not here," she assured, pulling him inside and closing the door.

Clark breathed a small sigh of relief. He might be okay with the break-up, but he knew Lana was far from happy with the way things had turned out. Their few meetings so far had been decidedly awkward, so Clark had thought it best just to avoid her, at least until things settled down.

"Actually, she didn't come home at all last night..." Chloe added with a frown. Clark's eyes clouded in concern and she continued hurriedly. "Oh, I'm sure it's not another guy," she insisted - like Clark's parents, Chloe feared the break-up was just another part of her friends' yo-yoing relationship and that a Clark Kent display of remorse was due any day now. "She's just been hanging out with these med students and they keep really wicked hours."

She turned away at that, stepping through the freakily clean dorm - to Clark at least - until she reached her computer.

"You know Chloe, I don't mind if she has found someone," Clark tried to explain as his friend sat down. "She deserves to be happy." Chloe shot him a gentle, slightly pitying and completely unconvinced smile - Clark sighed. At least Lex understands. "So, what's our crisis?" he asked, dropping the subject.

Chloe turned to the computer screen with apparent relief.

"Mass destruction and death in central America," she explained, bringing up an enlarged newspaper image, suddenly business-like. "And the possibility that your former professor Milton Fine is involved."

Clark frowned. He'd been expecting another talk about his concerned mom, possibly a scolding about skipping class, nothing as serious as this and certainly nothing about evil AIs he'd thought only he and Lex knew were still alive. And hadn't Lex said something about Fine revealing himself only to LuthorCorp as part of his nefarious scheme? If so, how and why had Chloe found out about him? Was she to be part of Fine's evil plan too? That was a troubling thought. Dealing with the aftermath of Simone and the break-up had meant Clark never found out exactly what Lex had discovered in Honduras, only noting with relief that whatever happened had left his friend alive - Clark made a note to rectify that ASAP.

Mistaking his confused silence as curiosity and possibly disbelief, Chloe continued.

"I know we thought the guy was dead and all," she nodded, sending the image to print. "But the only thing we're really sure of is that he disappeared, and so did that ship..."

Like all Chloe's electronics, her printer was naturally state-of-the-art and the colour image was complete in seconds. She handed it to Clark immediately, brow furrowed. It was a picture of some kind of rainforest - Honduras, Clark could only assume, because behind the foliage was the slightly blurred, but still unmistakable, form of Milton Fine.

"Chloe, where did you get this?" Clark asked quickly.

Chloe shifted her gaze away, briefly uneasy.

"A source tipped me off," she shrugged, overly casual.

Clark narrowed his eyes. Chloe wasn't usually so shifty with him about her sources, and this was serious - Lex thought Fine had revealed himself to LuthorCorp alone, just to him, if the AI was letting others snap him like this they needed to find out who, and why.
"What source?" Clark persisted, shooting Chloe a sideways glance over the paper.

Chloe bit her lip and ran a loose hair guiltily behind her ear.

"Clark, you know I can't break reporter/source confidentiality..." she muttered, shaking her head.

"Chloe, this is serious," Clark pressed, tone gentle but firm. "Fine's a master manipulator, and he uses little things like this to get at people." He leaned over beside Chloe, one hand on the desk, the other waving the picture in front of her. "He almost tricked me into releasing an evil Kryptonian remember? For all we know your source might be part of some other plot he's developed. I need to know who it is, in case they need help."

Chloe turned back to him, eyes widening a little.

"You really think so?" she queried, raising a hand to her mouth to chew thoughtfully on a nail. Clark nodded. "I never thought of it that way... though I guess this isn't exactly your run of the mill story, we all know it's not gonna be printed." Chloe put her hand down and took a breath, meeting Clark's gaze. "Look, just don't freak, okay? A source is a source, no matter what they've done in the past, and like you said this is serious, I figure it's better to know about it however we find out..."

"Chloe," Clark sighed, trying to bring her back on track.

"Right, okay," Chloe nodded, a sheepish blush creeping down her cheeks. "The guy who tipped me off," she shrugged again, this time with an air of expected disbelief. "...was Lionel Luthor."

Clark pulled back in surprise - face clouding first in confusion, then suspicion.

"I know, I know," Chloe continued, holding her hands up in defence. "It sounds crazy. But as tips go it seemed more helpful than malicious so I didn't think to doubt it... come to think of it though, he did play the confidentiality card pretty strongly." She tilted her head for a second, brow furrowing, then gasped, grabbing the edge of the table as a new thought hit. "God, you don't think he and Fine are both playing us somehow do you?"

Clark's eyes widened to mirror her distress. Lionel Luthor teamed with a powerful, violent, Kryptonian AI? The thought sent shivers down his spine, I better see Lex straight away. He was just about to excuse himself to do just that, when the door behind him opened. Clark caught the sound of low, tired laughter and noticed a flash of disapproval flick over Chloe's face as she looked passed him at the doorway.

Turning himself, an equal look of surprise crossed his own face, followed quickly by one of concern.

Looking away from them with her hand on the door handle, was Lana - dark hair hanging limply at the side of her face, usual smart clothing replaced by a drab grey T-shirt, loose slacks and dull brown cardigan. In the doorway before her stood an equally shaggy young man in a faded green top and jeans, his just too long brown hair slipping under rectangular glasses.

"Alan, enough," Lana murmured, half-hearted at best.

"Come on, Lana," the guy insisted, reaching a hand to her shoulder. "Just one more, for luck. I'm heading back to England tonight, I'll probably never see you again."

Lana shook her head with an indulgent, if rather unfocused, smile. Apparently satisfied, Alan leant over and kissed her full on the lips, pressing her hard against the door at the same time. Lana tilted her head back, unresisting, and Clark and Chloe gaped at the scene. Eventually, Lana lifted her brown-sleeved hand from the door, coarse fabric trailing from the wrist, and pushed the other man gently away. Alan nodded, smiling brightly.

"Goodbye then," he said, running the back of his hand softly across her cheek. "Thanks for last night, it was fun. If only I'd stumbled into the science labs sooner!" He backed away with a dramatic shrug, gave a quick wave then left.

Lana watched him go with another brief shake of her head before turning inside.

Her vague smile vanished at the sight of Clark and she tucked her hair behind her ears, newly tense.

Clark desperately wanted to break the awkwardness by looking away, but seeing her face properly for the first time in weeks he was suddenly transfixed by the pale, waxy shine of her skin and the dark lines beneath her eyes. God, Lana, what's happened to you? It was Chloe's nervous cough beside him that broke the spell and Clark's head snapped down. The movement seemed to free Lana as well and she moved quickly to the other side of the room, busying herself by looking through a drawer.

"I better go," Clark muttered to Chloe, who nodded gave a soft nod in reply and stood up to usher him out.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Oh, and you should talk to your mom, she was asking about you earlier," she whispered, grimacing in sympathy as she shut the door.

Clark turned away, chest tight with guilt. Lana was miserable and hurting and sick, and it was all his fault. As usual. Only this time, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"My father?" Lex queried, face creased not with surprise, but a subdued look of anxiety.

Clark rested an elbow on the counter beside him, nodding tightly as the other man placed the smoking test tube he was holding next to the others in the rack before him.

Clark had zipped to the mansion right after leaving Chloe and Lana's dorm, finding Lex in the lab soaking various samples of rock in a bubbling solution - like the rest of the place, it seemed to be coloured faintly lilac. Clark couldn't even guess at the experiment's purpose and wasn't even certain it had one - Lex had odd ideas about relaxation sometimes - but since none of the rocks were kryptonite and timing didn't seem important, Clark had felt safe interrupting and immediately rushed through an explanation of Chloe's findings, hoping that concentrating on the Fine situation would dispel his guilt and concern about Lana - predictably this hadn't succeeded.

His delicate operation now over, Lex dismissed the rack and still unused samples without a second glance.

He'd got back from the Fortress to find his evening meeting cancelled - an outbreak of measles, supposedly - and set up the current experiment to fill the free time. Like Clark had suspected, though, it wasn't important, just a method of distraction and could be easily discarded. Resting one hand on the counter, he ran the other across his mouth, thinking deeply about Clark's recent discovery.

"LuthorCorp employees never have been known for their loyalty," he muttered. "One of the team I sent to Honduras probably tipped the old man off. But why the revelation to Chloe, I don't know."

Lex tutted in frustration, as though ignorance of Lionel's motives somehow diminished his intelligence.

"Maybe cos he knew Chloe would tell me?" Clark suggested. "Chloe thinks he and Fine might be working together, maybe they thought if I found out I'd go after Fine, run into a trap. I mean, I probably would have done before if you hadn't stopped me."

Lex gave the other man's nervous form an anxious once over and had to swallow quickly to stop his throat seizing up. The thought of Fine and Lionel working to trap Clark, hold him weak and helpless like his father had done once before in that kryptonite memory tank, filling him with violent panic that settled to a heavy numbness in the pit of his stomach once subdued. It was a frightening idea, but didn't quite seem to fit the facts. Lex shook his head.

"No, if Fine did have my father on his side, why bother recruiting me?" he pondered aloud. "Dad might not hold the same sway with the company he used to, but he certainly has enough influence to give Fine what he asked me for."

"What he asked you for?" Clark repeated, lines of anxiety darkening his brow as he remembered again how much he was missing. "What did he ask of you? Lex, what happened in Honduras?"

Lex sighed at the worry and guilt etched on the other man's face, knowing his news would only mar that pretty face further. Clark had never asked for these inherited dangers his kindly nature made him responsible for, and Lex knew only too well the burden of guilt for your family's past sins - he wanted nothing more than to spare his friend the pain. But it was no good. Lex knew that look - Clark wasn't letting this go, not now.

Turning away, Lex made to lean against the opposite counter a few feet away, hoping that not seeing Clark's face would make things easier. Clark twisted round to watch him, but didn't follow.

"Fine asked for LuthorCorp to help him prepare a weapon," Lex explained evenly, running a hand across the counter's marble surface as he reached it. "To defend against an alien invasion."

"What?!" Clark breathed behind him. "But that's..." he paused and Lex could practically feel the tension pulsing through his friend. "What kind of weapon?"

Lex turned round, resting both hands on the smooth edge behind him, to find Clark's face not crumpled with concern as expected, but stony and cold - with a weary resignation Lex found almost worse.

"A virus," Lex explained. "He gave me the formula. Says it's the only thing that will stop them. It doesn't contain kryptonite though."

"Well, he must be lying," Clark insisted, as though Lex needed convincing. "Because there's certainly no invasion coming from Krypton. Whatever he wants that virus for, it's not defence."

"I had kind of worked that one out myself, Clark," Lex said quietly, catching the other man's eye. A small blush coloured Clark's cheeks and he looked down.

"Sorry, I just..." he muttered.

"You're worried," Lex nodded, blue eyes shining with understanding. "I know. So am I. We didn't exactly spend much time together in Honduras, but what I did see of Fine was enough to convince me he's a, formidable opponent."

Clark looked up again, stony resolve cracking. Opponent? We're at war now? Clark didn't feel strong enough to be a soldier.

"What did you tell him?" he asked.

"I told him he had LuthorCorp's full support," Lex stated. "I've got a team working on producing the formula right now." Clark opened his mouth to protest, but Lex raised a hand to stop him. "Clark, if we want to stop Fine we need to understand exactly what he's planning and the only chance of learning that is by keeping him close to us."

Clark sighed, his already dimmed eyes losing their glow completely.

"If it's any consolation, I discovered the virus has an antidote," Lex added, his own eyes dulled to match his friend's. "So if Fine does manage to use it as part of an offensive tactic, we should be able to counteract it."

A flicker of admiration smoothed Clark's clouded expression for a moment.

"Deal and double-cross," he stated. "You've been busy." Lex accepted the not-quite praise with a shrug. "I don't like it, Lex," Clark concluded.

Lex flattened his lips in agreement.

"Neither do I. Better idea?" he raised his eyebrows at Clark, vaguely hopeful, but the younger man shook his head.

"What about Lionel?" he asked.

"I don't think he's involved," Lex replied honestly. "Whatever he's playing, I think it's a different game entirely..." Lex thought uneasily of his father's recent dealings with Jonathan Kent, of his casual use of terms such as 'Krypton' and 'Kal-el' during his coma - whatever Lionel was up to, his son feared it had less to do with the fate of the world and more to do with a specific, non-human, farmboy-shaped visitor within it. "But don't worry," he insisted. "I'll take care of my father." Because unlike the situation with Fine, this was a concern Lex could spare Clark the burden of - for now at least.

Clark frowned, but nodded without complaining.

"I'll have to think of something to tell Chloe," he muttered, lapsing into another heavy sigh. "I miss high school. Anything supernatural seemed a lot less complicated back then, and at least all my friends were together. Well, kind of, anyway."

Despite his friend's despondency, Lex felt his lips start to curve. He didn't miss his own high school years, of course, but often found himself thinking wistfully of Clark's, of happy trips to the Kent farm, of shared laughter. Life had seemed simpler for him then too, for a time.

"Nothing's ever easy any more, is it? And everyone's so scattered," Clark continued. "Mom and Dad are always busy with Senate stuff, or at the Talon. Pete's in Wichita. Chloe and Lana spend most of their time in Metropolis, not that Lana and I are exactly close right now." Clark's expression cracked completely at that as he recalled his ex-fiancée's shattered appearance. "You should have seen her earlier, Lex," he said, voice low with guilt. "She looked awful. Really lost, you know?" He looked down, folding his arms across his chest. "And I hoped that, if anything, knowing my secret might bring us all closer together."

The older man's eyes softened, warm with affection. This, at least, was essentially a domestic problem bringing sorrow not unlike the kind Clark used to bring to him during those high school days - the kind that would hopefully dissolve on its own, given time. Lex didn't fail to notice, either, how his name was conspicuously absent from Clark's list of grievances.

"You know Clark, if it's really unity you're aiming for, there is still one chain in the secrecy circle you might want to let the others know about," he suggested. Clark looked up, curious, and Lex raised his eyebrows, nodding to himself.

"Ah, yeah..." Clark muttered, unfolding his arms and turning away, suddenly evasive. "I'm not sure now's a good time." He tapped the marble surface nervously, brushing against the pebble-sized rock samples. Unconsciously, his roaming fingers picked one up and began to play with it.

"It's your call Clark, and I'm not complaining," Lex admitted. Far from it. "But you'll have to tell them eventually."

Clark's back seemed to straighten at the words, but apparently not with tension because the shrugging of shoulders that followed was calm, almost lazy.

"Eventually's a long way off, Lex," Clark muttered, turning his head to the side, face just short of Lex's line of vision.

Since it had never troubled him, Lex had never thought to question Clark's silence on this subject - but seeing the other man so adamant to avoid the issue now piqued his curiosity and Lex decided to push.

"Look, I know you don't want to worry them, but-"

"God, I'm tired of that excuse," Clark interrupted, an odd, unexpected drawl to his tone making Lex pause. "It's just a fancy way of making lying seem honourable."
Clark shook his head as he turned fully and the difference was shockingly obvious - gone were the troubled lines on his face, replaced by a smooth, almost cocky, expression of confidence. Holding his right hand in front of him, Clark ran the small stone rhythmically across his fingers. "I only did it to protect you. I didn't want to burden you," he jeered in mocking staccato, rolling his eyes. "I held back from trusting people for so long because my parents fed me that line, and it's fucking stupid." Lex narrowed his eyes at the curse, but kept silent - a faintly calculating look crossing his face as he watched the stone continue to move under Clark's deft touch. "It doesn't stop people worrying at all, because when they do find out the truth, which they always do, they're even more upset than they would have been if you'd told them in the first place." Clark's lips spread into a derogative grin - surprising, but oddly familiar. "Most of the time it's not even a real reason either, just a way of hiding deception beneath a sham of nobility. I'd know, I've done it often enough. I'm doing it right now."

Clark leaned casually against the counter, eyes gleaming, turning his grin into one of smug self-assurance. He raised his eyebrows at Lex, apparently in challenge.

"Really?" Lex obliged, the corner of his mouth flicking up a little as he met the new, fiery confidence of Clark's gaze. "How so?"

"It's not because I'm trying to protect anyone, Lex. I just don't want to tell the others about you," Clark admitted.

Lex nodded slowly, eyes flicking briefly back to the stone before returning to Clark's.

"Why?" he asked.

Clark's face softened to a sunshine smile, sharper perhaps because of the dark gleam in his eyes, but no less beautiful. Lex thought of Ferraris and his penthouse in Metropolis.

"I was born into a secrecy I never wanted, and my whole life's been defined by it," Clark explained. "I can never be myself, cos I always have to hide. But not when I told you." Clark ran his eyes slowly down Lex and back up again, meeting the older man's gaze with an intensity that made Lex's heart race. "No... no one forced that, it was my decision, my choice, that was me, and you're mine." Lex stopped breathing. "I don't want anyone to take that away."

The air between them seemed alive suddenly, thick and strong, binding them together.

Lex broke it by looking down.

"I see," he breathed, blinking a little to calm himself before looking back up again. "Clark? Could you give me back that stone before you grind it to dust? I'm going to need it later."

Clark looked to the stone in his hand in surprise, as though he hadn't known it was there.

"Sure," he shrugged, flicking it into the air. As soon as it left his skin, Clark slouched back against the counter, brow furrowing in immediate unease.

Although Lex's faculties had been compromised just recently, it wasn't enough to hamper his reflexes and he caught the rock mid-flight - gazing over his closed fist at Clark's now confused and uncertain form.

"You alright?" Lex asked.

Clark blinked at him.

"Yeah... yeah," he murmured. "I just... I mean... what I just said, I didn't..."

"Talking of things left unsaid," Lex interrupted calmly. "There's something about kryptonite we haven't discussed yet."

Clark tensed.

"Yeah?" he queried, though he suspected he already knew what was coming next.

"Yeah," Lex nodded, blue eyes shining not with accusation but expectancy. "Like, the way it doesn't just come in green."

Opening his hand slightly, he slid the stone up between his thumb and forefinger, its dark shade of red seeming to glow under the main lights.

Clark jerked back against the counter in a reflexive attempt to move further away, eyes wide.

"Did you do that on purpose?" he asked, tone hard, but more with shock than condemnation.

Seeing the other man's distress, Lex wrapped the stone in his fist once more.

"Of course not," he replied. "I assumed all the meteors were toxic to you, so I keep them locked away when you come over. Your arrival today was unexpected, I didn't have time to hide this one."

Clark relaxed a little, but looked away from the other man's gaze, face flushing enough to rival the stone - his experiences with RedK were hardly something he was proud of, and he remembered treating Lex particularly badly during them. His failure to mention the substance wasn't out of neglect, but shame.

"I didn't even know you experimented on the red kind," Clark muttered, stalling.

"I don't, not usually," Lex admitted with shrug, moving beside Clark and sliding a small, lead container out from behind the test tubes. He dropped the red kryptonite inside it and noted Clark's nervous shift away with surprise. "Unlike the green variety, it doesn't seem to have any interesting physical properties."

Lex snapped the box shut with a firm click, and turned to face Clark again, only to find the other man still looking down uneasily. It was strange. Fear of the substance Lex could understand, but this fretful embarrassment was puzzling.

"Yeah, well," Clark shrugged. "That's because its effects aren't exactly physical," he explained quietly.

"Mental?" Lex theorised, eyes sparking. Clark nodded to his hands.

"And emotional," he clarified.

"Fascinating..." Lex muttered. After a second his eyes turned sharp. "Does it make you lie?"

Clark bit his lip.

"No."

Cautiously, he raised his head, and breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of hostility in Lex's expression.

"Actually, it kind of does the opposite. Makes me do and say, whatever I feel like at the time, regardless of the consequences."

Lex tilted his head up in sudden understanding, another puzzle piece from the past finally slotting into place.

"Like running away from home, or planning world take-overs from a Metropolis penthouse?" he suggested, lips curving.

Clark's blush deepened.

"You, ah, you remember that, huh?" he muttered, breaking into a nervous smile.

Lex nodded coolly, blue eyes turning navy. God yes I remember - Clark in black silk, ditching his farmboy awkwardness, along with Lana, for a confidence and control that had even Lex reeling under it. It was everything Lex wanted, which was how he'd known it couldn't be real.

"A personality change like that is hard to forget," he said evenly. "To be honest, I thought you were high."

Clark's mouth flattened and he nodded, eyes dulling.

"I guess I kind of was," he said. "When that stuff touches me it's, pretty addictive... it's hard for me to take it off." He twisted his head uncomfortably. "I spent almost a whole summer on it in Metropolis one time. When you were dead, you know?"

"I heard about it," Lex replied.

It had been pretty impossible not to - all Smallville was buzzing with Clark's summer disappearance, when they weren't gossiping about Lex's second failed marriage that was. The two of them had purposely avoided the topics, though - finding solace in the silence Lex supposed. Some of the best times of their friendship had been spent then, until Belle Reve of course.

"Some of the things I did then..." Clark shook his head with a sadness the older man found difficult to watch. "I can't even say it wasn't me, cos the kryptonite doesn't make me a different person. It just brings out what's already there. Sometimes I think it's worse than the other stuff."

Lex balled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to reach out again. He'd been fighting inner demons for so long, it had never occurred to him Clark might have some of his own. :: we all have a dark side, Lex :: He'd always thought Clark had been parroting, reeling out one of his father's many platitudes - because what could a simple farmboy really understand of inner darkness, of corruption seeped in your blood, surrounding you since birth? But Clark had never been a simple farmboy, and his darkness went beyond a family name, it was literally inside him - Clark didn't just have to fight to be good, he had to fight to be human. The Kryptonian world seemed to move closer to the Luthor one all the time.

"I'll make sure to keep it out of sight, then, if I ever use it again," Lex promised.

Clark glanced back at him with a small, grateful smile - he'd been worried Lex might want to try some tests with it, similar to those they'd tried with the green kryptonite.

"Okay..." he nodded, lapsing into silence. "I, ah, I guess I better go." Lex shrugged in a 'you don't have to' kind of way, but Clark just waved a hand in response. "I'll catch you later," he concluded.

"Okay," Lex nodded, noting the way Clark hung his head as he left - too much guilt for one man. No, Lex would not add to that if he could help it, no matter what Clark had just said about keeping secrets - he'd take care of Lionel's no doubt diabolic plan himself, and would continue to keep his inner feelings firmly to himself, because these were troubles Clark most certainly didn't need. Besides, Clark's earlier sentiments were made under the influence of an obviously powerful Kryptonian narcotic of some sort, not to be taken seriously, right?

Lex stroked the lead box on the counter, fingers drawing invisible circles across the smooth, metallic surface.

The possibilities of green kryptonite had been undeniably tempting - holding an alien being at his mercy, complete power over something so strong, everything he suspected his father would implement without a second thought. But it was Clark, and Lex couldn't - every such thought left him disgusted, and he'd pushed them away until the impulse was thoroughly quashed. But this, this was something else - Clark in black silk, controlled, controlling even. There'd be no pain, just a slight change in perspective - slip it round his neck when his back was turned, or his wrist as their hands brushed, so easy... Lex closed his eyes, breathing in the idea - a cool, tantalising voice echoing in his mind. :: Clark Kent and Lex Luthor, I like the sound of that ::

Following it quietly came a desperate plea of his own :: It won't be much of a life for the two of you, you know. Him always drugged up like that... He doesn't love you :: With a quick grimace, Lex opened his eyes again and shoved the box away. No, whatever he had with Clark he needed it to be real, needed truth more than satisfaction. And red kryptonite couldn't give him that, could it?

Lex shut up the lab for the day after that, science suddenly less attractive than normal, and headed to Metropolis, spending the afternoon tying up loose ends at the office. It was well into evening when he got back, weary but accomplished, visions of a warm, relaxing bath drifting pleasantly through his mind. Throwing his car keys down on the table in the darkened hallway, Lex made to take off his jacket, when the distinct sound of something smashing in the adjacent living room stopped him. Lex stood quietly, body tensing, and a rustling noise like someone searching through drawers met his ears. He shook his head in irritation. Fucking security, I should just sack them all, hire Clark as a permanent body guard...

Quickly and quietly, he stepped over to the wall opposite and slid open a hidden compartment in the wooden panelling. Inside it was a silver handgun, identical to the one Simone had taken from his desk drawer not so long ago. He remembered laughing as his father showed him the amount of hidden weaponry inside the Luthor family home, but he had to concede now that if there was one thing Lionel did well it was prepare for attack. Removing the weapon from its resting place, Lex cocked it and stepped towards the room, holding the gun before his face. Only one half of the double-doored entrance had been opened and Lex ducked his head cautiously through it.

A small flashlight flickered over the desk before the window, held by a shadowy figure rifling urgently through some papers. After a few seconds, the tiny flash of light and the flames from the small fire burning in the fireplace on the right penetrated Lex's vision and he became accustomed enough to the otherwise surrounding dark to scan the rest of the room. The figure seemed to be alone. Positioning himself a few feet from the doorway, he aimed the gun directly at the intruder.

"Don't move," he said clearly.

The figure started in obvious panic and ignored the instruction completely, making a dash for the door - as they crossed the moonlight from the window Lex saw whoever it was also carried a large, fabric sack - it might as well have been labelled 'swag' it was so stereotypically burglar. For a spilt-second he considered just shooting the thief, it would be a faster way of stopping them, but their fear suggested incompetence and Lex disliked unnecessary violence. Grabbing the figure roughly by the arm as they passed, Lex forced the would-be-robber against the closed door, one hand pining down a struggling shoulder, the other holding the gun to the intruder's face. A high collared black shirt covered their neck, but did little to protect the thief's identity.

Lex, breathing heavily from the sudden exertion, frowned in shock. He lowered the gun with a shaky sigh, slightly sick at the recollection of his considered gunfire.

"Lana?" he muttered, disbelieving.

Clark had mentioned Lana wasn't looking so good, but Lex had expected nothing like this. Her dark-rimmed eyes showed blood-shot flecks of red as she flicked them away and Lex noticed clammy patches of sweat on her skin. This was more than post-break-up stress, something was seriously wrong. Lana made no effort to explain herself, just started to shake lightly beneath his hand. The movement brought Lex out of his musings and, after a quick shake of his head to dispel his surprise, he led Lana gently to one of the sofas on the right. Once she was safely seated, he moved back to the doorway and turned on the lights.

Turning round again, he found Lana crouched on the black leather, knees to her chest, arms folded across them. The fabric bag was discarded beside her. As he walked over he realised he was still carrying the gun, and dropped it on the glass table as he passed - it clattered loudly against the surface and Lana flinched.

"My god, Lana!" he said through the din, fear at what might have happened slipping into anger. "I had no idea it was you, I could have killed you."

Lana looked down, red-rimmed eyes fearful, and started to rock, slightly but persistently. Lex softened at the pitiful sight.

Taking a breath to compose himself, he moved to sit in the chair opposite her, warm flames from the fireplace now between them - have a fire ready for me sure, but staff that actually keep my home secure? forget it, Lex thought bitterly. Still, considering the state Lana was in, he couldn't helping thinking perhaps it was better she'd been caught by him, anyone else might not have been so lenient.

"If you needed money, all you had to do was ask," he said, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.

Lana swallowed, her pale faced creased with guilt and something more - Pain? Sorrow? Desperation?

"I know," she nodded, voice tight. "Lex, I'm really sorry..."

Lex looked away, mildly exasperated - 'sorry' didn't quite cover the situation.

"Just tell me what's wrong," he stated.

Their separate discoveries about Clark had put an obvious distance between the two of them lately, but Lana had been and still was one of the few people Lex had come to consider a friend - during his fall-out with Clark, she'd been a particularly close one in fact - he hated seeing her so obviously in trouble like this. He wondered what could have made her desperate enough to attempt burglary - did she owe someone money? could it be blackmail?

Lana broke into an odd, slightly manic smile at his question.

"There's nothing wrong with me," she insisted, overly defensive.

Lex narrowed his eyes - he hadn't asked what was wrong with her. Her pasty appearance and gentle rocking suddenly took on new meaning, one he'd never have thought to associate with Lana. But then, until today, he hadn't thought to associate it with Clark either.

"Lana, you broke into my home and tried to steal from me," he said evenly, refuting her statement. "You're acting like a junkie trying to find her next fix."

Lana frowned indignantly at first, but Lex stared her down - he'd seen enough addicts in high school to know the signs and how to deal with them. Eventually Lana's frown dissolved and her eyes dulled in shame.

"There's this guy at school," she began. "He's created these chemicals..."

"So, it is drugs," Lex prompted when she lapsed into silence again. Lana shook her head, hair not so much as flicking, and Lex realised it was slick with grease - a tell-tale sign of bodily neglect.

"It's not what you think," she said, predictably. "They kill you. And then they bring you back." Lana's cracked lips curved into a wide, painful smile. "Lex, I died. I died and I came back." Her voice was suddenly bright, excited.

Lex looked away with a sigh. Some kind of hallucinogen then. And from the look of her she's been taking for a while. Since the break-up maybe? Lex had never had much patience with drug addicts, his own experience with narcotics kept strictly minimal - submitting to addiction showed, in his mind, a lack of control. But the thought that Lana might have been driven to her condition by the lost of Clark made him oddly sympathetic - during the rockier times of their relationship, it was a way out Lex had certainly found tempting himself, and Lana had got infinitely closer to the man than Lex had ever done.

"I'm telling the truth," Lana insisted, in response to Lex's show of disbelief. "I went to the other side... and I saw my parents..." Lex's eyes flicked back to her at the description, shining now with a hint of understanding, although his expression remained stony. A drug that gave you passage to the afterlife? It was certainly an impressive pitch - fascinating, in fact, if it were true, not to mention incredibly dangerous. "It was beautiful..." Lana continued, breathless with wonder, and the corner of Lex's mouth curved upwards, very briefly, as a painful stab of empathy twisted inside him.

He stood up slowly and moved to sit beside her, careful not to make any sudden moments.

"Lana," Lex said, sliding a calming hand over her shoulder. "No one understands the loss of a parent more than I do. And you, growing up without a mother or father, I can understand taking any chance you get to see them again." He paused for a moment, thinking how much he'd love to see his own mother once more - there were times when a loss of health would have been a small price to pay. "But you have to look at yourself. Look at what you've become. This isn't what your parents would have wanted for you."

When Lana turned to him her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but Lex wasn't embarrassed, he just held her frightened gaze quietly, willing her understanding, willing her to listen, willing her to be stronger - because, aside from being truly concerned for her, he couldn't help fearing that if Lana collapsed under the weight of not having Clark, how long would it be before he did the same?

"Lex, I'm sorry." Lana shook her head. "I just wanted to see them so badly. These past few weeks, I've just felt so alone."

Lex gave a gentle nod in response, thinking of the lonely weeks after his mother had died, the months after Clark had discovered his hidden room, the years spent at Excelsior. Loneliness he was well acquainted with.

"I know it feels that way," he said, hiding his own sorrow behind a well-practiced mask of assurance. "But you're not, Lana. You have lots of friends here for you, who care about you very much. Chloe, the Kents, me." He gave a soft smile, taking a breath as he readied to touch the heart of the matter - he knew he risked scaring her off by doing so, but she needed to face it soon, before her escape tactics landed her in even more trouble. "Break-ups are always difficult, especially after such a long relationship. Trust me, I know, I've faced two failed marriages already. But it gets better, and easier. You just have to give it time."

Lana just blinked at him for a moment, then nodded.

"I, I think you're right, Lex," she muttered. Lex nodded back, shifting forward to pat her hands. She shivered beneath the touch and he frowned.

"You're freezing," he noted.

"Oh, no, I'm okay," Lana responded half-heartedly.

"I'll get you a blanket," Lex insisted - giving her arm a soft squeeze as he stood up and headed to the hall. There was no question of letting her leave in her current state either - she'd stay at the mansion tonight, and tomorrow he'd sort everything out properly, starting by paying a visit to this mysterious guy from school and having a serious chat about the ethics of his chemistry experiments. Once he was out of the picture, hopefully Lana could start getting back to normal, which would no doubt be a load off Clark's mind too - another burden Lex could lift from his friend's shoulders.

When Lex returned a few minutes later, warm, woollen blanket in hand, Lana was gone. And so were the keys to his Porsche.

Raising his eyes skyward, Lex sighed, partly in concern, partly irritation, the latter addressed to himself as much as Lana. Like Clark said, nothing's ever easy.

The next morning, Lex's careful attempt to protect Clark from Lana's troubles by calling Chloe instead was thwarted when Chloe subsequently phoned the Kryptonian herself. Clark was in the girls' dorm in a second, this time not bothering with niceties.

"What do you mean, Lana's in trouble?" he questioned, door still flapping behind him. "Is it something to do with that guy from yesterday?" he ventured, trying the first thought that came to mind - he might not care if she saw other guys, but Clark didn't want Lana in a bad relationship.

Chloe shook her head.

"No, he's just some guy she met on the way home the other night," she explained, slipping a warm green jacket over her pink top. "It's the med students she's been hanging with I'm more concerned about. You know, the ones I mentioned before?" Clark nodded quickly, affected by Chloe's breathless animation, and watched attentively as she pulled a hefty and well-read book from Lana's desk. "Well, I'm starting to think they're up to more than partying during their late night get-togethers."

He took the book from her with a frown.

"Beyond Death?" he read, eyes darkening. "I don't understand, what does this mean? What do you think Lana's involved with?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Chloe admitted, her own face creasing with worry as she took the book back and slipped it into a small, denim bag. "But it's certainly not doing her health any favours, and if it's enough to make even Lex Luthor take notice, I'd say it must be pretty serious." She nodded sombrely - slipping the bag over her shoulders and heading passed Clark to the doorway.

"Wait, Lex?" Clark blinked, turning round. "What does he have to do with this?"

Chloe paused in the doorway, tapping impatient fingers against the handle.

"He called me earlier," she explained. "Said Lana was round his last night, acting suspiciously out of character."

"He didn't say anything to me..." Clark muttered, eyes sharp with sudden hurt. Chloe just shrugged.

"He probably thought I was in a better position to look out for her," she suggested. "What with being her room-mate and non-ex-fiancé and everything."

"Yeah, I guess," Clark concurred, forehead still furrowed. Chloe softened her expression lightly in sympathy, assuming her friend was upset about the break-up.

"Look," she said. "That hardly matters now anyway. The important thing is we find out what Lana's got into and help her get out of it. If it's as serious as I'm afraid it is, she's gonna need all the friends she can get."

Meeting Chloe's gaze, Clark was suddenly struck by the raw concern in her eyes. Wow, this is really serious, he realised, a stab of guilt hitting him as he considered avoidance of Lana might have been more neglectful than helpful.

"Okay," he nodded, pushing thoughts of Lex aside, along with the odd, painful knot in his stomach that hearing of Lana and Lex alone together had tightened—that didn't even make sense anyway, why should he mind if the two of them were closer again now? "So, what's the plan?"

"I swiped the address of one of Lana's new groupies from her desk drawer," Chloe stated matter-of-factly, no sign of shame whatsoever. "So I say we pay a visit and find out exactly what's been going on."

By way of response, Clark stepped past her into the corridor and the two of them headed across campus to the stolen address. It was roughly a ten-minute walk to the college, Clark choosing not to superspeed - he needed Chloe's superior grasp of the situation. It then took another five minutes or so to find the right dorm room, by which time Clark's anxiety had risen to uncomfortable levels. The ominous, black Celtic cross on the room's door did little to dispel his fears.

A pale girl with long blonde hair, tinged with faded red highlights, opened the door at their knock. Her skin was the same waxy complexion Lana's had been, but the shadows round her eyes were significantly larger.

"We need to talk," Chloe stated at once, stepping in the room without further preamble. Clark followed a little less assertively.

The girl turned her head with a sarcastic smile, silver stars and hoops jingling in her ears.

"Lana warned us her room mate was nosey," she muttered, shutting the door. "And who are you? Overprotective boyfriend she neglected to tell us about?" She nodded to Clark as she walked back, stopping at her ill-made bed and pulling her short leather skirt over the black and red stockings on her thighs as she sat down.

"I'm just a friend," Clark replied, voice quietening at the girl's fragility. "You look worse than Lana."

The girl gave a small, throaty laugh.

"You gonna go all Mrs Brady on me? Bring me some chicken soup?" she mocked, pulling a red, quilted blanket around her bare shoulders.

Chloe pulled a metal chair from a desk to the side and sat in front of the girl, Clark hovering behind.

"No," Chloe said, gentler now - the girl's appearance affecting her too. "We're here because we're worried about our friend. We know you guys aren't involved in the usual kind of late night college recreation and we want to make sure Lana's not doing something she might later regret."

Clark felt that was ballsy of Chloe, as they didn't know any such thing, only suspected, but then Chloe never had been one to beat about the bush.

"And you think it's your business?" the girl replied, scrunching her nose in disdain.

"Oh, I know it's our business," Chloe responded, tone sharp again. "And if you don't tell us what you guys are up taking all night, I'll make it the university's business too."

Behind the chair Clark swallowed his surprise - Chloe thought it was drugs? Lana? Had he really hurt her so badly she was willing to risk something like that?

The girl rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Chill," she said. "We all know what we're doing, Lana's not in any danger."

"Well, she isn't exactly acting like herself," Chloe insisted. "And the two of you look like the poster children for the Betty Ford clinic."

"Look, I told you, let it go. Now, I'm done talking with you," the girl stated in a manner that would have been firm if her voice hadn't been so breathy. She made to leave the bed, but Chloe put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down.

"No. What is she taking? Drugs?"

The girl tutted.

"You are so narrow minded. No wonder Lana came to us."

"Came to you for what?" Clark asked, something about the gleam in the girl's eye turning him cold - because, if it wasn't normal drugs, there was a far worse substance readily available and too often dabbled with around these parts.

"That's between Lana and her loved ones," the girl whispered back cryptically and Chloe turned her head to meet Clark in a puzzled look.

Before either of them could question further, however, the girl began to cough - softly at first, but then harder, eyes widening in sudden panic as she grabbed at her throat.

Interrogation forgotten, Chloe leant forward and put a supporting hand on the girl's shoulder.

"What is it? What's happening?" she whispered in quick concern.

"Near, death experience," the girl choked. "It's caused by, meteor rock." She seemed about to say more, sudden fear prompting an explanation, but before she could a violent cough racked through her and she spit a pool of crimson liquid onto the bedsheets.
"Oh god," Chloe muttered at the sight of the blood, hurrying to the girl's side and sliding comforting arms about her shoulders to keep them still. She shot Clark a quick, instructive look, but the Kryptonian was already dialling 911 on his cell. The girl had her hands to her mouth now, a frightening amount of blood sliding down her fingers.

"I need an ambulance please, it's an emergency," Clark demanded, while the girl lifted her head, blood from her hands now coating her nose and chin.

"I don't wanna die..." she muttered weakly to Chloe, while Clark finished giving the address.

Chloe held her as another coughing fit took hold, and Clark - slipping his phone back in his pocket - was just about to move over and help, when girl jerked violently backwards. Slipping out of Chloe's hold she fell flat against the mattress and lay still.

With a soft gasp Chloe stepped shakily away.

"Oh, god," she breathed again as Clark put a hand to her back, providing much needed support.

Both of them stared in horror at the lifeless form before them - Jor-el's prophecy, never far from Clark's mind, ringing potently in his ears.

Lex watched from across the street as Lana approached the closed cafeteria. She was still decked in the black ensemble from last night, but the paleness of her skin prevented her blending properly into the gathering evening. She looked nervously over her shoulder as she started up the steps to the doorway and Lex stepped further into the shadows of his sheltered alcove-cum-observatory. As it was he needn't have worried, Lana was clearly too preoccupied to notice anyone right now, turning unfocused eyes away almost immediately and hurrying inside.

Receiving no word from Chloe, Lex had succeeded in tracking down his Porsche, and with it Lana, hours ago, but instead of confronting her, he'd decided to wait things out. Cornering the girl now wouldn't solve anything - it was her dealer Lex wanted to talk to, and for that all he needed was patience. Once the door behind her closed, Lex moved deftly across the street, following Lana inside and through darkened passageways to a back room. Peering through the grimy glass panels in the door, Lex saw a couple of medical examining benches set up inside. On a table beside them a young man in black coat and striped polo shirt was frantically packing bottles of green liquid into a fabric folder. Lex smiled grimly, this was the guy he wanted all right. Lana frowned as she saw what he was doing.

"Lance, what's going on?" she asked.

"I'm getting rid of evidence," Lance responded, ominously. Lana moved to his side, blinking in confusion.

"Evidence?" she repeated, a hint of fear shaking her voice.

"Ally," Lance muttered, avoiding her gaze. "She's dead."

Lana's black-rimmed eyes widened. Behind the door, Lex's narrowed.

"What?" Lana breathed, a look of pure terror crossing her face. "What happened to her?"

"I warned her there's only so many times you can die before you stay that way," Lance replied, hands stilling briefly against the folder as he fought an emotional influx of his own.

Lana swallowed. "Did your serum kill her?" she asked sharply. Lance turned to her then, eyes wide with anger.

"My serum didn't do anything," he insisted, too manic to be truthful. "She did it to herself."

Lana trembled under the gaze, the fear in her eyes betraying her disbelief. Any other time, Lex would have felt for her, but right now he was glad of her fear - it was just what was needed to halt her downward spiral. Too bad it came at such a price. Lex wondered if the girl - Ally? - had known what she was getting into or if Lance had enticed her, as Lex suspected he'd done with Lana.

Lex was on the verge of stepping in and taking control, when Lana did something to exceed both men's expectations. Her eyes turned hungrily to the bottles on the table, and after licking her lips quickly she spoke up, clearer and more controlled than before.

"Well, I'm willing to take my chances. I need you to send me back." Not waiting for a response, she headed straight to one of the medical benches behind them, rolling up her sleeve in a chillingly practiced gesture.

Lex blinked in shock, while Lance followed her, shaking his head.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked in disbelief. "The police are gonna be here any minute, I gotta get outta here!"

Ignoring his protestations, Lana rifled through a familiar fabric bag around her shoulder. "Then we better hurry," she stated, pulling out Lex's car keys and handing them over.

"What the hell is this?" Lance asked, looking from the keys to Lana with a kind of morbid fascination.

"Those are the keys to a very expensive Porsche, which is parked outside," Lana explained, not even the slightest trace of guilt accompanying the statement. "I figured they'd cover the cost for one more trip to the other side."

Lance's mouth quirked in dark amusement. "You stole a Porsche?" he queried, oddly proud.

"I borrowed it, from a friend," Lana deadpanned, with a certainty so convincing Lex had to wonder if even he might have believed her - had the Porsche not been his. He'd had no idea Lana was capable of such quality deception, and with faculties impaired too.

Lex opened the door commandingly. He'd seen more than enough.

"And he wants it back," he called - doubling intimidation by indicating not only his presence, but the fact he'd been listening in.

Lana's face crumpled when she saw him, confidence fading.

"Lex..." she breathed, grabbing her bag tightly as though planning to run again.

"The cool thing about expensive cars," he explained, staring her down impassively. "They all come with GPS tracking."

"Lex, I can explain," Lana tried, eyes beseeching, but Lex turned his head. After the sterling performance he'd just witnessed, he found himself unwilling to believe her. Lance raked his own eyes over the other man's scalp and finally cottoned on.

"Lex? Lex Luthor?" Lance stated with almost comic incredulity. With a brief, angry shake of his head he thumped the car keys on the table. "You dumb bitch," he muttered, picking up the folder full of serum. "I never should have let you in on this."

He made to leave and Lana grabbed his arm desperately. "No, Lance please wait," she begged, tone suddenly sickeningly weak. Lance threw her off easily and continued towards the door.

"I'm outta here," he insisted, but Lex begged to differ. Reaching out a stronger arm than Lana's, he gripped the other man's arm below the shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere until the authorities get here," Lex stated, prompting a violent but not unexpected blow to the jaw. Lex heard the slam and tinkle of the black folder falling open on the floor, but ignored it, focused on channelling his strength into the subsequent tussle. Lance was enthusiastic, Lex gave him that, but lacked control and stamina - a series of head punches soon had him on the floor.

Before Lex could properly disable his opponent, though, the sound of a slamming door distracted him. Turning quickly, Lex saw Lana's retreating form hurrying along the outside corridor and a brief glace at the fallen folder revealed a missing bottle. As much as Lana's betrayal angered him, preventing her death was still a greater priority than convicting a criminal, so Lex made to follow her, calling her name as he reached for door. He wasn't quite there when a sharp pain erupted in his right shoulder, followed by the familiar sensation of liquid seeping through his blood. Lance. Not so defeated after all. Lex didn't even have time to curse his incompetence before the drug took hold, plunging his whole body into an instant, freezing numbness. Fighting hard, Lex managed just enough strength to raise a hand half way up his chest, and then he was falling...

...falling...

Lex fell heavily on his side, the impact oddly painless - part of the numbing effect of the drug he could only assume. Rolling over to face his attacker, Lex was met by a vast, uncanny mass of darkness.

His eyes filled with confusion that he blinked quickly away. Lana was on the verge of killing herself and he was hardly out of danger either, he didn't have time to indulge in perplexity. As he pushed to his feet, he found the pain in his shoulder had spread to a warm sensation across his whole back... except, no, the heat was inconsistent, familiar, pleasant even.

Turning round, Lex found himself before an elaborate fireplace, large, golden flames greedily licking up the wood inside. He put a hand to the mantelpiece. It was solid. More than that, it was familiar - not the emblazoned bronze from the mansion, but something older, something from his childhood...

Soft notes from a piano drifted into existence behind him. A melody echoing across time. Haunting. Lex turned slowly, a painful longing soaking his heart.

Behind him, where once had been darkness, now stood a gleaming grand piano, illuminated by two ornate candelabras. He could just make out a glow of feminine red hair through the open lid. An odd feeling of despair and desperation tightened his chest as he moved slowly closer, revealing the slender, shining figure of Lillian Luthor - her fingers moving deftly over the keys.

"Mom?" he asked. Disbelieving. Hopeful.

"I used to practice this for hours when you were young, before Julian was born," the figure responded, beautifully curled hair bouncing over smooth shoulders as her gaze followed her hands. "You used to sit next to me, quiet as a mouse. Such a good little boy."

Lex swallowed as a pair of blue eyes looked up at him, exactly as he remembered. Same gentle spark, same bright smile, same music. Even the pearly, white dress she wore was one he knew - worn away to nothing through over use at corporate parties. It was what he missed most from his collection. What she said was true too, he remembered every detail - the warmth of her body against his shoulder, the touch of her hands on his own when, tiring of her own practice, she'd guided his fingers across the ivory instead.

A sudden wrong note and she pulled away abruptly, a dark fear marring her features, betraying the madness that came to plague her later years.

"Never could get that part right," she muttered, lips spreading into the vague smile Lex had learnt to mean her mind was slipping - the same one she'd worn when Julian died, the one that made him want to reach out and grab her, bring her back. But no, this wasn't right, it couldn't be real. His mother was dead.

"I was injected with a hypodermic dosed with some kind of chemical," Lex stated aloud, trying to focus. "I must have gone into shock and - "

"No, you're dead," his mother interrupted, so quick Lex had to make a mental double-take to grasp her meaning. He shook his head weakly.

"This is just a delusion..." he whispered, but his mind recalled Lana's painful smile at the mansion :: I died. I died and I came back... I went to the other side... and I saw my parents ::

Lillian stood up and moved towards him, eyes sharp again, and despite his doubts Lex couldn't prevent an old relief at the sight.

"Like last time?" she asked, Lex tilted his head, uncomprehending, so she continued. "What was it then that brought you to me?" She moved a few steps passed him, gazing away. "Oh yes, you were shot coming out of a meeting with a man you'd hired to destroy Jonathan Kent's reputation. So you could become Senator. How'd that turn out, by the way?"

Disapproval laced her tone and Lex's face clouded as he turned. Her condemnation was all the more damning because he shared it and her ghostly presence over Christmas suddenly held new significance.

"If you really are my dead mother, wouldn't you know?" he asked quietly - curious, hopeful and afraid all at once. His heart fluttered as she turned back to him, eyes sad.

"It was a rhetorical question, Alexander, of course I know," she shook her head a little, apparently despairing. "You ignored everything I showed you. The life you could have had..."

She turned her head with a sigh, and Lex felt a hot anger burn inside him. Yes, he'd made some bad choices, but if she really had been trying to guide him with that nightmarish vision she'd hardly gone the right way about it.

"What, you mean where I was a penniless widower with two kids to provide for?" he snapped back. Lillian closed her eyes, nodding unhappily.

"Yes, yes, my mistake," she moaned, opening her eyes again in a gaze so full of sorrow it melted her son's anger at once and Lex's heart reached out to her instead, just as it had all those years ago by Julian's crib. Because this was his mother as he'd known her then, flitting painfully between insanity and reason. He couldn't hate her for it now, any more than he had before, no matter what she did. "I thought she was what you wanted," she continued, face clouding in beautiful anguish. "You sought her out so often then. But your mind and heart rejected her, in the end, perverted the vision I'd so carefully planned. No, no, no..."

She moved towards him, violently shaking her head. When she raised her eyes again they were clear, penetrating and importantly, loving - a Luthor gaze Lionel could never hope match. She raised a hand to his cheek and Lex leaned into the touch instinctively, closing his eyes. So real.

"No," she said, calm now. "She couldn't save you. And neither can I."

Lex opened his eyes again, fearful and suddenly cold.

"Save me?" he repeated. "What are you talking about, save me from what?"

"The barren wasteland encroaching on your soul," Lillian whispered, gripping her son tighter. Enough to hurt, even, but Lex was too riveted to pull away, inexplicable images flashing before him. Himself all in white, ruling a land of bones. Sunflowers turning to ash at his touch. "You are so close, Alexander, so very close to it. On the very brink of destruction. And we put you there, both of us," his mother continued, a brittle bitterness filling her tone. "He with his constant talk of leadership and strength, money and success. While I, too weak and too blind, stood back and let him, let him lock up your heart piece by piece..." Mind and heart fogged with anxiety, it was a while before Lex realised she meant his father. "I kept Julian safe. Yes, by then I knew," she nodded, vague smile flashing once more, dimmed eyes meeting her son's shining ones. "But you... I failed you, Alexander."

Lex grabbed her hand with his own, quickly and desperately.

"Mom, no," he stammered, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "You didn't fail." Because if there was one thing worse than becoming his father, it was having his mother blame herself for it. He gave a watery smile. "My life isn't perfect, but you help, you keep me good, you keep me grounded."

She stepped back, hand falling. Lex's shaking fingers touched new wetness on his cheeks.

"No," she said, calm again. "I don't. Because memories of the dead can't compare with visions of life, I see that now." Her face blossomed suddenly, smile so unusually radiant Lex had to choke back a sob at the sight. "Which is why I have to let you go, Alexander."

Lex wiped his eyes impatiently, because he was losing her again. Losing her when he hadn't even known she was there. And she was, wasn't she? There in spirit, with him right now. Lana had seen her parents more than once, maybe he could come back... but his mother's gaze was too calm, too final, like it had been the visit before she'd died.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's all I can do for you now," she explained. "Send you back. Back to one who can help you more," she placed a hand gently on his trembling chest. "The one you truly long for. So secretly, so hidden. Your father taught you well how to lock away all that is precious."

Lex blinked, brow furrowing as he tried to understand, because nothing had ever seemed so important. He was in danger, on the very brink, but someone could help him, pull him back... And his throat was burning suddenly, choked with water, emerald eyes holding his own, dragging his life back in deep, gasping breaths.

"You... you mean, Clark?" His questioning gaze met a knowing smile, and his mother's delicate hand pushed against him.

A flash, and he was pulled backwards through a kaleidoscope of lights, arms stretching out as the image of his mother began to recede.

"Wait!"

Talking to the ambulance crew and police about Ally had taken up a good couple of hours, during which Chloe and Clark persistently shot each other nervous, impatient looks. Extensive notes in Ally's room had revealed a formula for the kryptonite cocktail she and Lana had been taking, along with its shocking effects and, helpfully, the name of its creator—Lance Currie. The police sent a team to track him down straight away, but Chloe and Clark had kept Lana's name out of their reports—there was no need to get her in more trouble if they could help it. The longer they spent with the authorities, though, the more frustrated the two friends became, because every second that past was now a second closer to making Lana a permanent resident in the great beyond. Their nervous fidgeting eventually became so blatant, Clark was sure the cops would find it suspicious, but thankfully Lance was foremost on their mind and after strict instructions that the two of them weren't to leave the country, Chloe and Clark were free to go. Deciding they'd cover more ground if they split their forces, Chloe headed back to her dorm, hoping to track Lana's whereabouts via her laptop by hacking into the Uni mainframe, while Clark whizzed off round campus on his own.

A quick zip and x-ray through the rest of Ally's college turned up a lot of bored, and horny, students, but no Lana, as did a scan of Lance's apartment. Clark then began a systematic sweep of the entire University, skidding to a halt outside an empty cafeteria when a familiar flash of silver caught his eye. Sure enough, the car parked outside was Lex's Porsche—identical in every way to the one Lex had driven them both into the river with all those years ago. In fact, the older man had taken to driving it a lot more often recently, a curiosity Clark might have pondered on had he not been in such a hurry. As it was, the car simply implied Lex was at MetU, and the only reason Lex would be at MetU right now, that Clark could think of, was to find Lana. Since grimy, closed, student eateries were hardly Lex's style, the older man had either under gone a dramatic change in taste, or else discovered something about Lana's location Clark was unaware of. Violent irritation at Lex for having kept him so thoroughly out of the loop propelled Clark into x-ray and he identified the building's single occupant at once—an all too recognisable skeleton laying face down in a back room, heart frighteningly still. Clark's anger vanished instantly, replaced by a sickening fear as his own heart mimicked that of his friend.

Whizzing inside, Clark found Lex stretched awkwardly on the dusty floor, barely three feet from the now open doorway. His eyes were open and glassy and he wasn't breathing. A large hypodermic protruded from his shoulder, still glowing faintly green.

"Lex..." Clark breathed, face contorting with a grief his mind refused to accept.

Ignoring the vague bubbling under his skin the remnants of liquid in the needle had begun to prompt, Clark moved towards his friend, stretching out an arm to snatch the offending item away. Before he'd even bent down though, a bright flash of white light pushed him back and Clark's arm moved automatically to his eyes instead. The sudden glare disappeared as fast as it had arrived, and Clark blinked over his sleeve, lines of concern blurring into ones of astonishment.

Lex was no longer painfully positioned, but lying peacefully on his back, the hypodermic discarded by the far wall. More amazing, though, was the glowing figure kneeling beside him. Clothed in shining white, with smooth, slender hands tenderly caressing his friend's face, Clark couldn't help but think her an angel and looked on in wonder as the woman touched gentle lips to Lex's forehead.

When she turned to him though, sparkling blue eyes emphasised by the redness of her hair, her identity blended into a collection of memories—a series of photographs from the Luthor mansion. A woman in glittering black dress, smiling sombrely through an ornate silver frame in the room he and Simone had ransacked; the same woman, grinning beneath a wedding veil beside a younger, cleaner Lionel, framed by polished wood in a bedroom from the east wing; and the same woman again, less sophisticated but just as elegant in a loose, medical nightgown, weak arms around a small, hairless boy clutching a gold watch—no frame this time, just a raw photograph with frayed corners and fold marks round the edges. Clark had found the picture pressed carefully between the pages of an old edition of To Kill a Mockingbird Lex had leant him one time—he'd slipped it softly back between the paper, finished the story within a day and returned it to Lex immediately, even before school. Other than those penned by Harper Lee, neither of them said a word about the book's contents, but Lex had seemed extremely relieved to have the book back again so soon.

There was no mistaking the woman gliding towards him now, and although not an angel as such, Clark's sense of wonder wasn't dispelled. He knew full well how much Lex loved his mother—the soft catch in his voice when he spoke of her, the warm glow in his eyes, his attachment to the gold watch she'd given him, these and a thousand other things spoke to Clark so much louder than Lana's kryptonite necklace and perpetual grieving had ever done. He'd felt sorry and guilty about Lana's parents, but Lillian Luthor was someone he truly regretted he'd never meet.

Now, as she rested a cool, yet oddly insubstantial, hand on his cheek, Clark held his breath, completely speechless. Heart racing, mind suddenly locked on the woman before him, Clark didn't notice the other man's soft gasp back to consciousness at the touch. Lillian's intense blue eyes held him for a moment—so like Lex's, Clark thought. Then she nodded gently, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

Rolling over with a small groan, Lex flicked his eyes open. Finding his mother, young, shining and beautiful as he'd just seen her, with a hand to Clark Kent's face, seemed strangely appropriate. A small, tender smile, much like Lillian's own just then, smoothed his lips as his mother moved forward, Clark bowing his head obligingly so she could kiss his brow. As the scene dissolved into darkness, Lex was engulfed by a warm sense of contentment.

The next thing he knew someone was shaking him by the shoulder.

"Lex, Lex! Come on, don't die on me..."

Desperate words, oddly familiar, and Lex's eyes snapped open again, body shuddering with a racking cough. A large hand rubbed soothingly against his back and the shuddering died down enough for Lex to lift his head and face a visibly relieved Clark. The deja vu was uncanny.

"Clark..." Lex muttered, wincing at the painful burn in his throat and steady ache in his head. "What... where... where's...?" He looked over Clark's shoulder in confusion, frowning at the empty room, had he been hallucinating after all?

"Lex," Clark said, tone commanding, and Lex blinked back at him, trying to focus. "You've been drugged, some kind of kryptonite chemical. I'm gonna get help, okay?"

Clark nodded encouragingly, but as the hand on Lex's back slipped away the older man felt an irrational sense of panic. Clark couldn't leave, not now. He was important—Lex needed him.

"Clark, don't—" Lex wrapped a hand tightly round Clark's wrist, then swallowed, uncertain. Don't leave me, sounded pathetic, but don't leave me, my dead mother says I need you, seemed worse. "Don't... don't leave," he ended finally, haltingly, the ache in his head growing stronger and more oppressive all the time.

Clark smiled, slipping his other hand over Lex's grasping one and gently prying it off—the ease of which Lex put down to alien strength, because he refused to believe his hold was so weak.

"Lex, it's alright," Clark assured, rubbing a thumb over Lex's knuckles. "I'm just calling an ambulance, I'm not going anywhere."

Lex kept hold of Clark as the younger man pulled a cell from his bright red jacket. Ignoring the clear, careful instructions his friend was giving, which grated Lex's headache, the other man focused instead on the soft, rhythmic movements across his hand—gentle, soothing, unconscious, it reminded Lex of how Clark had stroked the red kryptonite, an unconscious desire...

Lex didn't realise he'd passed out again until Clark was shaking him awake once more. This time, he was resting in a proper sitting position, back against a wall, with both of Clark's hands on his shoulders. The green of Clark's eyes flashed clearly against the drab backdrop, and Lex used them as a focus. Clark smiled, nodding in satisfaction.

"They said on the phone you're probably in shock, so you need to stay awake until the ambulance gets here." Clark's gaze was caring and beseeching at the same time, in a way only Clark Kent could manage.

Lex nodded his understanding, and immediately regretted it, blood in his head thumping painfully at the movement. He groaned and started slipping to the side. Clark moved to sit next to him, keeping him upright.

"How do you feel?" he asked, wincing in sympathy.

"Like a whole Roman legion's marching over my head," Lex muttered back, surprised by the gentle shake in the shoulder next to his. Turning, he found Clark suppressing a chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"Only you could think of a Ancient Roman metaphor at a time like this," Clark grinned.

The tone was so affectionate Lex was surprised into grinning back, relieving the tension in his head somewhat. He'd just opened his mouth for a quip reply, when a murky darkness on the edge of his vision stopped him, enfolding him, until it seemed he was drifting... the warm pressure of a hand threading through his own focused him again and the world clarified with Clark speaking softly in his ear.

"Lex, stay with me."

Lex stared straight ahead, breathing deeply to fend off impending unconsciousness—because that was one request he had no intention of disobeying.

They stayed that way until the ambulance crew found them, sitting quietly, hand in hand. Clark was surprised at how loath he was to let go, but Lex's safety was more important than personal, inexplicable, impulses, so he gave his friend over to the professionals without complaint. Fortunately, they were not the same team sent to Ally, a thought that had troubled Clark during the wait, since he hadn't wanted the suspicious glances his presence at two drug induced accidents would no doubt have caused.

Clark hovered round anxiously as Lex was loaded on a stretcher and taken outside, well aware of the need to get back to finding Lana, but not wanting to leave until he was sure Lex was okay. In the end, Lex solved the problem himself.

"Clark!" he yelled suddenly, waving away a man offering him an oxygen mask. Clark was at his side in a second.

"I'm here Lex, what—?" he started, but Lex cut him off, apparently more awake now.

"No, don't be here. Get out of here. You have to find Lana," he instructed. "Clark, she's in trouble. There's this guy, a chemistry student, he's been—"

"Making meteor based drugs, I know," Clark finished, not wanting Lex to exert himself. "Chloe and I are looking for her, that's why I was here."

A flash of guilt crossed Lex's face.

"I should have told you, I'm sorry..." he trailed off with a wince of pain and the attending physician rested his head back against the cotton pillow. He turned to Clark a little impatiently.

"We need to get him out of here," he said firmly. Clark nodded and stepped back.

"Just find her before she takes another dose," Lex persisted, holding the oxygen mask off once more. "Don't worry about me."

"I will Lex, don't worry," Clark promised. Green and blue eyes met in united assurance, and while both attendees were distracted with moving the stretcher Clark zipped away.

Lex smiled at the empty space on the sidewalk, finally accepting the mask in relief.

Clark had just restarted his methodical search when Chloe rang.

"Clark! I finally got in the system. Lana last used her student ID to get into the chemistry labs, less than five minutes ago. She's probably still there, you should—"

But this time Clark didn't need a prompt for what he should do, and was breaking the lab door open in seconds, arriving just in time to see a guy in a striped polo shirt holding a full hypodermic to the neck of a whimpering Lana. Whizzing forward, he pulled the guy back into a shelf of lab equipment, where he fell heavily amongst a collection of plastic pipettes and broken test tubes.

Lana spun round, eyeing the other man's fallen form with wide, unfocused anguish. Clark grabbed her by the shoulders, fearing she might also be in shock.

"Lana," he said clearly, grabbing her attention. "Are you okay?"

Wide, desperate, demanding eyes met his own, and for a second Clark thought he was dreaming again.

"Clark, please help me, please..." she begged. "I need them... I need them..."

Clark shook his head in confusion. Them? Then something clicked, what Ally had said about loved ones, the reason Lana was so willing to make dangerous trips to the afterlife in the first place. Losing Clark's love must have driven her to seek the emotion from the only people she was sure could provide it—her parents. Clark was shocked at the sheer desperation of it and realised he had absolutely no idea how to help. Protection from outside forces he was good at, mostly, but how could he fight an inner force of self-destruction like this?

"Lana," he muttered weakly, unclear what was more distressing—the degradation his friend was suffering, or that he was the one who'd driven her to it, without even noticing, and without being able to take it back. He could hardly offer her his love again now, not when he finally understood he didn't have it to give.

"Clark, please," Lana continued, gripping his arms. Then, a sudden spark of clarity entered her gaze as she looked over his shoulder. "Clark!"

Spinning round at the obvious warning, Clark faced Lance advancing on him with the same hypodermic he'd so recently threatened Lana with—the same stuff she'd just been begging Clark for. Ironic, Clark thought dryly.

He grabbed Lance's arm as the other man made to stab his chest, but the kryptonite in the liquid was already affecting him and Clark's arm soon buckled under the pressure. Lana was apparently not so far gone as to miss the significance this particular threat held to Clark, but her only help was an ineffective scream. As the needle slipped painfully through his skin, Clark's last thoughts shifted from fear for Lana, to regret at failing his promise to Lex.

He didn't hear himself cry out, or feel the cold rush of kryptonite spilling through his system. All he knew was a strange, bodiless sensation, like he was floating...

...floating...

Clark opened his eyes with a gasp, wildly clutching his chest. But the needle was gone. He sat up, surprised to find he was spread out on the floor, and looked round quickly for Lana. Instead of the lab, though, his gaze met a blinding, empty whiteness.

Scrambling to his feet, Clark blinked desperately against the glare. Lana was in danger, Jor-el's prediction maybe seconds from completion, he didn't have time for this.

Reaching his arms in front of him, his fingers brushed against something. He pressed against it and a series familiar sharp corners and smooth edges came into being at his touch. As he focused, the object developed into a crystalline pillar. Several others came into existence around him. They were exactly like the crystals in the Fortress... but this wasn't the Fortress, Clark could tell—it was vaster, with a cool but gentle breeze passing through that he'd never found in the Arctic. On a faint, half-remembered impulse, Clark looked up and saw a beautiful, crisp night sky, glittering with stars. The constellations were hauntingly familiar, yet he knew none of them.

"Welcome home, Kal-el," a soft, melodic voice called before him and Clark's heart beat faster—he'd heard that voice before, dampened with tears and speaking of love.

Clark lowered his head slowly, and stared in open wonder at the woman now framed by the whiteness in front of him. She wore a deep blue robe, hands hidden beneath the sleeves as she clasped them before her, and her hair was a soft, golden brown, falling round her face in gentle curls. She smiled at him, the green in her eyes an exact match of his own.

"You... you're..." he muttered. "You're Lara." She nodded calmly.

"Yes, Kal-el. I am your mother," she said, face softening delightfully. "And this is Krypton, or part of it at least. It is, so good to see you again, my son."

Clark looked away, eyes flashing with confusion and wild excitement. His mom? His real mom? As much as he loved Martha he'd always wondered... Imagined what his birth mom might be like, what'd she think of him. Could this really be happening? Was he really, finally, meeting her? Was he really...?

His head snapped back again as he hit the obvious conclusion.

"Am I dead?" he asked.

Lara inclined her head.

"Temporarily," she assured. "It is what brings you to this place, to me. But our time together is short." Her smiled remained, but her eyes dulled lightly in sorrow.

A crazy thought filled Clark then, and he rushed towards her, reaching to grab her shoulders but pulling back at the last minute.

"Then make it longer," he suggested breathlessly. "Keep me here. Keep me... dead."

Lara's nose crinkled in amused confusion.

"But you have so much life left in you, my son," she stated. "Why choose to lose it now?"

"Because," Clark explained urgently. "Because Jor-el... my father, he restored my life once already, but at the cost of another, someone close to me. If you keep me here now, then maybe that person will be saved."

Lara's face cleared, eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Kal-el, why do you continue to concern yourself with this matter?" she inquired, extracting small hands from her sleeves and placing one on Clark's trembling shoulder. "Don't you know that price has already been paid? Didn't you feel it?"

"What?" Clark replied, face clouding. "But, when...?" Oh god, how long have I been here? Maybe that guy got to Lana already. "Who? Who was it paid by?"

"That man you know so well," she answered. "The one you helped restore so recently."

Clark blinked. Man? What? Unless...

"Lex?"

Lara nodded, but Clark shook his head.

"But Lex didn't die, he came back," he argued—this was too important to get wrong.

"Yes," Lara agreed. "He was spared his role in the balancing, when another made the exchange in his place." Clark's eyes narrowed questioningly. "One who loves him as dearly as I you, and has stayed with him so long," Lara clarified, and Clark recalled the vision of Lillian Luthor, her few whispered words—"Look after him for me."

That made as much sense as anything else in Kryptonian logic, Clark supposed, but aside from the issue of how a dead woman could sacrifice her life, there was another thing that didn't seem to quite add up.

"No, there must be some mistake," he insisted. "Jor-el said the life would be taken from someone I... I..." he trailed off, eyes glowing curiously. Someone I love. Everything else seemed to pale suddenly under that.

Looking up he found Lara smiling at him proudly, as though he'd just solved a particularly difficult puzzle, and Clark felt himself blush. What with that time under hypnosis and his dream this morning, it seemed to him some wires had been crossed somewhere.

"Oh, right, well, yeah, that makes sense, I guess. Lex is a, a friend, like Chloe, practically family actually..." Clark babbled, excuses that all made perfect sense, all completely true, and all completely obvious. Which, only make his pause earlier more telling.

Lara shook her head affectionately.

"My sweet Kal-el," she said, gently slipping her hand from Clark's shoulder to his cheek. He stilled at the touch. "You don't see, do you? How lucky you are on your third planet from Sol, your Earth, where its people are free to love where they will." Her face darkened for a moment and she looked away sadly. "Laws were, stricter, on Krypton. So many hearts broken, warped by loss..." When she turned back to him her eyes were almost pleading. "Do not trap your heart in needless conventions, false assumptions of what is right. You should never be afraid of love, my son."

They stared at each other quietly for a moment, then Clark raised a tentative hand to the one on his cheek.

"I..." he tried, but words failed him. Always more at ease with touch than talk anyway, Clark captured all his feelings by flinging his arms round the woman's neck instead—an impulsive, childish embrace. Lara smiled warmly, resting one hand on her son's back, the other in his hair.

As she held him close, the white shine around them seemed to dim.

"The time of our parting draws near," she whispered.

Clark drew back at once, unashamedly wiping fresh tears on his red sleeve.

"What? No," he protested. "There's still so much I want to ask you. Why didn't you come with me when you sent me to Earth? And what about the paintings in the cave? Don't they mean Lex and I are supposed to—" Clark cut himself off, the image of Naman and Sageeth was one he'd been desperately trying to avoid lately—the thought of it now left him particularly cold.

"It broke our hearts to be parted from you," Lara responded, eyes shining with painful honesty. "But your father's duty was to his people, and I could not leave his side," the way she said it made Clark wonder if a force other than love might have been involved, but there was no time to question further as she continued hurriedly. "And as for the paintings," she shook her head. "Prophecies made in ancient times when our race was gifted with foresight long since lost. Your father, like so many, saw pain and destruction in their colours and would have you fulfil them, even to the last drop of blood. But even we have read the signs wrongly before, the loss of our planet is a testament to that."

"Then, what should I do? How should I read them?" Clark practically shouted, as a rushing wind began to engulf them.

"Do not," Lara said simply, still and calm despite the violent wind attacking her hair and blowing her robes behind her. "Follow your heart, Kal-el, and what else will be, will be."

She stretched a hand out to him and Clark tried to grab it, but the wind was too strong, pulling him back through a tunnel of flashing lights into blackness...

"Clark! Clark!" a weak voice called down to him, and he opened his eyes again to Lana's anxious, pale face.

She sagged with relief at his return, a move that only emphasised the tautness of her skin, and knelt back.

Clark sat up, blinking, trying to organise the wave of newfound emotions flooding through him. A touch to his chest proved Lance's hypodermic really gone and a glance to the right revealed the man himself, face down in a pool of blood.

Jolted back to the matter in hand, Clark turned back to Lana in shock and his ex-fiancée looked down, a painful guilt flashing in her eyes as they flooded with tears. Clark moved over and put an arm round her immediately, appalled with himself for thinking, even for a moment, that whatever happened while he was out could have been anything other than self-defence—Lana might have become susceptible to drug addiction, but Clark knew she'd never go as far as murder. Guess it's time to talk to the police again, he thought unhappily.

As he shifted position slightly to find his phone, Clark didn't notice the dark, satisfied look Lana gave the body over his shoulder.

After the tenth failed attempt, Jonathan threw the untied bow-tie on the living room sofa in disgust. The Governor would just have to accept him without it.

"Martha!" he called, heading into the hallway. "If you're coming it's about time we were leaving."

"I'll be right there," Martha's voice echoed down the staircase, soon followed by the woman herself, and Jonathan brightened with amazement as she stepped down. Martha had changed her usual farmyard slacks to an elaborate orange dress, a matching orange throw round her shoulders and a small, white purse in her hand. "I'm sorry I was so long," she breathed. "I wanted to make sure my hair looked alright." She raised a hand to give the expansive curls one last critical examination.

"It looks beautiful," Jonathan assured her. "You look beautiful. Truly amazing."

Martha blushed as she reached the end of the stairs and Jonathan leaned forward to kiss her. Then the doorbell rang, turning her head away before their lips could meet.

"Oh. Now who could that be?" Martha wondered aloud, moving to open the door. Behind it stood the outwardly courteous figure of Lionel Luthor, his own bow-tie immaculately presented beneath the collar of his tux. His eyes sparkled in pleasure as he looked over Martha's dress. "Lionel," Martha stated curiously. "Well, don't you look dashing?"

"Next to you, I'm a man in rags," he replied smoothly. "You should always wear that colour, Martha. And to think the guests tonight were so nearly deprived of such a glorious vision. Frightful. I have a limo waiting outside to transport all of us to dinner in style."

Martha was still blushing at Lionel's compliments when Jonathan moved beside her, his own face reddened for other reasons entirely.

"That's very kind of you, Lionel," he muttered. "But we do have our own means of transportation."

"Ah, I hope you don't mean that farmers truck so prominently parked by the front gate," Lionel responded with a grin, the slightest raise of his eyebrows the only suggestion derogatory intent. "An occasion such as this demands something rather more highbrow, and it seems foolish for us to travel separately when we're heading to the same destination."

"Now see here, Lionel," Jonathan began heatedly. "I've have just about enough of your interfering..."

"Jonathan," Martha interrupted, putting a gentle hand on his arm—she'd been wondering how long it would be before her husband spoke against Lionel's recent assistance. "He's only trying to help, and it is rather silly for us to all travel separately."

"Martha," Jonathan insisted, voice hard with hurt now at her support of the other man. "That's not the point. My truck isn't just a mode of transport, it's a statement to the other Senators that I'm not ashamed of my heritage."

Martha sighed at the determination in her husband's tone, it meant reasoning with him was unlikely.

"Where's Clark?" Lionel asked suddenly. Martha's look was mildly curious, but Jonathan whipped his head round at the question, eyes narrowing. "I mean, he's always such a dutiful son, it's surprising he's not here, seeing you both off."

"Oh, I see," Martha nodded. "Actually, Jonathan and I haven't seen him all day. I suppose he's been, busy, you know..." she trailed off with a small shrug, not wanting to voice her real concern about Clark and Lana's break-up just now.

"Ah, of course," Lionel nodded, projecting a sense of understanding. "A... special... project no doubt," he glanced briefly to Jonathan, who pursed his lips in barely suppressed anger. "That's college these days, working students to the bone."

Martha nodded, face pinching with fresh anxiety.

"Yes," she muttered. "Perhaps it's been too much for him lately. Jonathan, do you think we should call him?"

Jonathan put a hand to her shoulder, uncertain if he was comforting or acting out some primal display of possession.

"I'm sure he's fine, Martha. We just need to give him some time right now," he insisted, not wanting to dwell on the subject of Clark with Lionel near by. "Come on, let's get this dinner over with. We can take the blasted limo if it's going to save a fuss."

Martha raised her eyebrows—surprised but not displeased at Jonathan's change of opinion - while Lionel grinned in satisfaction.

"Very well," he nodded. "Your carriage awaits, my dear." Lionel led Martha outside with a flourish while Jonathan followed sulkily behind.

Lex was at the piano when Clark dropped by the next day. Fingers floating like liquid over the keys. A slow, sad tune, Clark thought as he leant quietly against the doorframe to watch, with a hopeful undercurrent—a series of swift, light notes trailing after each other in rapid succession.

The older man had his eyes closed, head tilted, as though to an embrace, and Clark relished the moment. It was rare to see Lex abandon all pretence like this, especially since he'd taken over the company, and the younger man looked over the smooth, open look of contentment his friend held intently. And realised he liked it. He liked it a lot. Too often that face was lined with trouble, with anger, and Clark hated that, always had. Seeing Lex's graceful body tensed with pain he fought so hard not to show - it twisted Clark's heart, every time. A hurt the young Kryptonian had never really acknowledged before. Never understood. He'd expressed it in shouts of anger instead. In violent bouts of distrust. Stronger than he'd known how to handle.

Because no one affected him like Lex. No one could take him to the emotional extremes the older man had. Laughing one day, threatening the next. It was crazy, now he thought about it. The way Lex made him feel sometimes. Totally irrational. How was it that every little thing Lex did was more noticeable to him than with anyone else? So much sharper. So much harder to let go? Why, out of everyone's lies, and betrayals, and disappointments, had it always been Lex's that hurt the most? That seemed the most damning? When really, the older man had done little worse than his other friends over the years. Even less, perhaps. He'd never worked against him with Lionel, after all, like Chloe. Never left town and abandoned him, like Pete.

No, there was something about Lex. Something different. Something that was slowly, surely starting to manifest with every new stroke of the older man's deft fingers. As though it were Clark's heart-strings he was plucking and not the piano's at all.

I'm in love with Lex... Clark realised. Surprisingly calm, as he rested his head against the wooden frame, sighing gently.

A small, wondrous smile quirked his lips as Clark raked new eyes over the man before him. It was like seeing Lex for the first time, every detail delightfully fresh—the perfect line of his back above the stool; the elegant lift of his feet against the pedals; the smooth curve of his neck above his shirt. Achingly beautiful. The sight left Clark breathless, and a tight, harshly suppressed knot, slowly, carefully opened inside him, warming him all over as the feared, neglected understanding it'd been hiding was finally acknowledged. It'd been Lex all along. Ever since he'd crashed into town. The rich, sophisticated, city boy, who everyone doubted. The anti-thesis of everything Smallville. The opposite of everything Clark. And yet, despite that, or maybe because of it, he'd found in Lex everything he wanted. Everything he needed. Finally, a friend to open up to. Insightful frankness to temper his tongue-tied confusion. Logic to lead his passion. And amongst all the differences, a sense of 'other' enough to match his own. A perfect balance.

The image of Naman and Sageeth came to him then, the same as always but completely altered. Betrayal to balance, enemies to lovers. Another interpretation to add to the list and Lara was right—why bother trying? He'd spent his whole life trying to embrace things he thought he needed - the caves, humanity, Lana—when what he really wanted had been right in front of him the whole time, and he'd ignored it.

And Lex had spent so long trying to hook him up with Lana too...

Suddenly, it all seemed ludicrous, and Clark put a hand to his mouth to stifle the chuckle he couldn't contain.

The music stopped.

"Clark?"

Clark met Lex's curious, vibrant blue eyes with a small swallow—the faint blush in his cheeks as he recalled yesterday's dream fortunately hidden beneath his palm. Getting a hold of himself remarkably faster than usual, Clark lowered his hand from a clear, apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Please don't stop because of me," he insisted, but Lex waved a hand dismissively, standing up with a smile.

"It's okay, I've been playing all morning. I've pretty much done this tune to death."

Blue eyes glittered with a sad type of amusement Clark didn't understand.

"It's... it's really beautiful," the young man complimented tentatively, heart skipping a beat when Lex's small smile spread to a beam.

"It's my favourite," Lex explained, stepping away from the instrument. Just a little closer and Clark might have been brave enough to embrace him. As it was the three or four foot distance held the younger man back. "So, what brings you here, Clark?"

"Oh, I just wanted to..." Clark floundered for a second. Figure out if I love you. I do by the way. "Make sure you were okay."

The older man's eyes glowed above his smile, warm with genuine gratitude.

"I'm flattered," he replied. "Two people concerned with my well-being in almost as many hours. Lana was here checking on me earlier."

Clark's face darkened a little.

"Oh really?" he muttered, thinking if he'd only overcome his nerves earlier he might have been Lex's first concerned party, instead of sloppy seconds. Fiancée to rival in under a month, that's gotta be some kind of record.

"She's looking a lot better already," Lex assured, misinterpreting Clark's expression. "I'm sure she'll pull through just fine. There's a lot more to Lana than people give her credit for."

"Yeah, yeah I guess there is," Clark nodded, noting Lex's sudden, thoughtful, look with a twinge of sadness.

Just because he didn't love Lana the way she wanted, didn't mean others couldn't, and of course Lex was too much of a gentleman to act while Lana was still attached to Clark. It'd probably be for the best, no doubt Lex would make her a lot happier than he ever had, but Clark couldn't stop the ache of disappointment inside him. Knowing he was in love with a guy was new and strange enough, but loving a straight guy... well that was just a kick in the teeth. And there'd always been so much speculation about Lex in the media too, for a second there Clark had honestly thought there might be a chance.

Lex blinked, focusing away from the curious discoveries he'd made about Lana recently and back to more important matters.

"I heard you also took a trip to the land of the dead," he stated, frowning lightly at the other man. "Considering the chemical make-up of Lance's drug, I'd call that a greater cause for concern than mine."

Clark shrugged, pushing newfound feelings, hard, to the edge of mind. It didn't quite seem to work. Friendship. he told himself firmly. I can still do friendship. Right?

"Apparently not. I'm just fine," he said, flashing a patented, goofy 'I don't know' smile, as part of his effort to get back to normal. "Chloe thinks being dead somehow neutralised the kryptonite in my system. Good to know, I guess, if it's true."

"Indeed..." Lex nodded in agreement, but his focus didn't last long. Something outside of Clark was clearly distracting him and it wasn't long before he was trailing off into thought again. "For the rest of us, there was another drug, apparently. To bring you back," he muttered. "An orange one. That's what Lana used. Your not needing it is hardly surprising, but it is odd how I managed to get back without it..."

Clark bit his lip nervously. Of course. He was questioning his unusual recovery. Lex didn't like to let open mysteries about himself go unexamined for long. But this was worse than the truth about a broken Porsche, this was about his mom, the woman Lex, master of deception, loved more than he could hide. And who Clark had effective killed. This was a 'leave you or kill you' kind of reality and Clark thought he might shatter if he lost Lex now.

"I have to admit," Lex continued, moving away a few paces, staring into the distance. "Crossing over was an enlightening experience."

Clark swallowed.

"What did you see?" he asked quietly, playing for time.

"My mother," Lex replied, face softening to the same expression he'd held at the piano.

And although Clark could only see his back, he sensed the change, the muted joy the other man took from the memory. And he knew then he couldn't lie, he couldn't not tell. Lex deserved to know what had really happened. And who knew? Perhaps he'd have something new to add, perhaps what Clark understood wasn't the whole truth. After all, how could a woman's previous death be taken in exchange of a future one? It didn't make sense.

"Me too," he whispered.

Lex spun round, eyes suddenly sharp.

"What?" he asked.

"I mean, my mother," Clark amended hurriedly, not quite ready to discuss Lillian just yet. "When I crossed over." Lex frowned worriedly and Clark realised he was thinking of Martha. "My biological mother," he clarified and Lex's face cleared.

"Wow," he muttered.

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "I even saw Krypton. Kinda. I think."

The corner of the older man's mouth started to curve.

"What was it like?" he asked, not even trying to hide his curiosity.

Clark gave a flat smile.

"Icy," he shrugged. Lex breathed a small laugh and Clark grinned back, anxiety fading as he found himself suddenly wanting to explain everything about that vision. Everything he'd felt, everything he'd seen. Because no one would appreciate it like Lex did. "The sky though, it was amazing," he continued easily. "It was night, but it was so clear. No clouds, no smoke, just thousands and thousands of stars. I didn't know what they were, but it was like I recognised them, like they were part of me. I wish you could've seen it Lex, it was beautiful. And Lara - that's her name, Lara - she was... she was perfect. She didn't try and tell me what to do like Jor-El always does she just... she just loved me..."

He looked down, blushing slightly at the sudden intensity and Lex smiled, eyes shining. While his past returned in a haunting melody tempered with madness, Clark's was a starry sky, brightened with love. Lex wished he could have seen it too.

"It sounds incredible," he responded softly, and Clark focused back to him, expression sobering.

"Lex..." he started, heart drumming faster. "While I was there, my mom... she said something." He paused, shifting uneasily. Lex just waited respectfully. "Do you remember when I was shot?" the younger man asked suddenly, and Lex tilted his head at the randomness. "You know, when that guy kidnapped Chloe and shot me. I was rushed to hospital, but I died, remember?"

Brow furrowing, Lex nodded.

"Vividly," he replied. He certainly remembered how painfully his heart had stopped when he'd heard the news. "Your miraculous resurrection a few hours later suggested a mistake. But presumably your Kryptonian abilities got the better of the bullet in the end."

"They didn't though. I was still without my powers then," Clark insisted. "There was no mistake. I was really dead," Clark gazed at Lex intently until he was sure the other man believed him. "Jor-el brought me back."

A heavy silence as Lex took this in, body tensing with shock.

"He can do that?" he breathed eventually.

"I don't think... not usually," Clark shook his head. "I mean, I don't think he could do it again. He had to change destiny, or something, it took a lot of power. But Lex, he told me afterwards that to keep the balance, the life of someone I—" he broke off for a moment, swallowing. "Someone I'm close to, would be exchanged for mine."

A range of emotions passed quickly over Lex's face—shock, wonder, fear and finally concern.

"God," he whispered.

"He didn't say who, how, even when," Clark clarified. "It's been a nightmare, Lex. Waking up each morning knowing someone I care about might die. Then there was Lana's accident, my dad, Chloe..."

His eyes clouded, stomach knotting painfully as he remembered the fear he'd been living with for so long. Lex moved a few feet closer.

"Didn't you get any indicators at all?" the other man asked matter-of-factly, trying to calm his friend. "Will it be soon? Could it be years? Anything?"

When Clark raised his eyes again, they were shining—nervous, guilty.

"That's just it," he said quietly. "When I saw my mom, she said the price was already paid. Yesterday... By you."

After a beat, Lex stepped back, flashing a nervous smile.

"Clark, as significant as my resemblance to Bruce Willis may be, I wasn't aware one of your powers was seeing dead people," he quipped, but Clark didn't smile, he could hear Lex's heart and knew the humour hid a real fear.

"Yeah," he said quietly, acknowledging the obstacle if not the joke. "She said, someone else made the exchange in your place. Someone... someone who loves you, as much as she loves me. And you, you said you saw your mother..."

Clark trailed off as Lex looked down sharply, a sad resignation dulling his eyes.

"She said there was only one thing she could do for me now," he muttered under his breath. "God, it was all true wasn't it?"

"That's not everything," Clark continued, his own expression clouding in sympathy—the lines on Lex's face paining him in a way he finally understood. "When I found you yesterday, I thought I saw someone with you. A woman in white, she looked like—"

Lex's head snapped up.

"You saw her too," he whispered, face a blend of hope and sorrow. Clark nodded.

"She kissed me," he admitted.

Lex stepped back on his heels, turning away with a weak noise part way between and laugh and a sob. He wiped a hand across his face as though to literally bring it under control, then turned sharp eyes back to Clark. Stepping closer, he raised a hand towards the other man's face and for a second Clark thought Lex was going to slap him. And he was more than willing to take it. But Lex's hand turned instead to a pointing finger.

"Stay there," he instructed, moving swiftly away to the desk by the far window.

Clark's shoulders sagged at his absence—crying or punching would have at least provided the small consolation of physical contact. Banishment like this, however deserved, was infinitely more cutting.

After a few seconds rummaging through a drawer, Lex pulled out a familiar gold watch.

"Do you remember this?" he asked, slightly breathless. Bemused now, Clark nodded.

"Your mom gave it to you," he replied. Lex nodded vehemently.

"Did you know it never stopped once since I got it?" he continued, voice quickening with excitement. "I always thought it was impressive, but I just put in down to good workmanship. The way it never lost a second, never needed resetting... Until yesterday. When it stopped dead, the moment I came back to life." He raised his eyebrows to Clark, but the young man just frowned in confusion, not sure what Lex was getting at. Lex nodded, answering an unspoken question. "I unscrewed the back earlier, to find out what was wrong, and I found this." He pulled the already loose metal casing behind the watch away, and a perfect circle of kryptonite fell into his hand. Lowering the watch, he held the disc up between his fingers, shaking his head at it in a kind of confused wonder. "I guess she had it installed out of sentiment, a way of symbolising how I could overcome all obstacles, even my past. Maybe even, how she hoped to overcome them for me... I don't know," he stroked the disc unconsciously, face softening. "After what happened to Chloe just recently though, it makes me wonder if this might have had an effect my mother wasn't anticipating."

Clark eyes widened in understanding, :: one who loves him as dearly as I you, and has stayed with him so long :: It wasn't Lillian's past death he was responsible for. Because she'd never really died.

"You think the kryptonite kept her spirit, like it did with Gretchen," he summarised.

Lex flicked raw, vaguely pleading blue eyes to the other man.

"It's not impossible, is it?" he asked. "When I was shot, over Christmas, I saw her... I thought I was dreaming, but she mentioned it yesterday. As if, maybe it was really her all along..."

Clark looked over the disc while Lex mused, awed by the level of power the debris from his home planet was continually displaying. Even with the meteor shower long over, he was still causing so much havoc... As he looked, he noticed an irregularity near the top of the otherwise smooth, green surface.

"Is there something written on it?" he asked.

Lex turned the circle over with a small nod.

"Amor vincit omnia," he read clearly. "Latin."

"What does it mean?"

"Love conquers all."

Lex gave Clark a sad smile and the younger man's heart plunged into icy coldness. A beautiful phrase, but in the end it had failed.

"Lex, I'm sorry," Clark said heavily, hanging his head. "If it wasn't for me she, she might still be with you."

"Clark, if it wasn't for you, she wouldn't have been with me at all," Lex argued.

When Clark looked up, Lex's face was open, friendly—but just then it felt wrong, undeserved.

"Maybe," Clark muttered. "But even so, I dragged you and your family into my crazy life when you didn't even ask for it. And it's not just you, I'm always doing it, to anyone I'm close to. And it's not fair."

"Clark," Lex started to protest, but the other man waved a hand to stop him.

"No Lex, don't," he insisted. Not just loving him then, but loving him painfully, desperately. It was killing him how much Lex had suffered because of him and the disc in the other man's hand and smooth skin of his scalp served only as further signs of condemnation. "I'm really glad you're okay, and that you figured things out, but I... I've got go, I'm sorry."

Lex grimaced at the empty space before him a second later, the slight breeze Clark always left in his wake tugging his shirt collar. Just like a butterfly, he thought, wild and beautiful. And flutters away the closer you get.

"Clark..." he muttered, placing the kryptonite disc carefully beside the watch. "You have no idea, do you? Being dragged into your crazy life was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm not sorry at all."

The concluding chuckle to Lex's small soliloquy travelled swiftly to Clark's open ear, where he was sitting attentively on the stone steps outside. Embarrassed by his sudden exit, and still not fully in control of his newfound feelings, Clark had paused to get a hold of himself. He'd thought perhaps if he calmed down enough, he could venture back inside. Lex obviously didn't hate him for what had happened, and he'd have to get used to these intense emotions around the guy sometime if he wanted to keep their friendship.

The heartfelt honesty in Lex's few words as they drifted down to him, though, had Clark's heart beating with new hope. The best thing that ever happened to me? Clark blushed, that's not something you say about a friend...

And slowly, a wide, plotting smile started to creep over Clark's face.

Chasing Lana had been a tedious, nerve wracking experience because he'd never known what to say or how to act, always painfully aware his actions were being monitored, assessed as relationship worthy or not. But none of these problems existed with Lex. If anything, the older man was always looking to help him as opposed to dragging him down. Encouraging him with positive comments, helpful hints, teaching him to be better. And it was always so easy being with Lex. There was no anxious stammering, no over analysing every word, no tense silences where the younger man realised he'd got something wrong. No. Lex could be intentionally, infuriatingly, cryptic sometimes, but Clark still understood him so much better than he ever had Lana and... it'd certainly be a refreshing change. To actually feel happy about flirting for once. To enjoy it.

And why not? Courtship had never been one of his talents, it was true, but Lex had accepted so much about him lately, Clark thought he might not mind a little inexperience. Plus, unexpected flirting from him was practically a guarantee of breaking the other man's cool. He might manage that blush after all. A flutter of excitement started up in Clark's chest. Oh yeah, this could be fun...

——end credits——