Cyborg

Title: Cyborg
Pairing(s): Actually Clana, but really it's all about the Clex. Obviously :p
Spoilers: up to Season 5 'Cyborg'
Category: episode-related, drama, angst(ish)
Rating: PG
Summary: A re-write of 'Cyborg.' Clark meets up with Victor Stone, a reluctant cyborg reconstructed against his will after a car accident. When Clark discovers LuthorCorp may have been involved in the experiment he has to decide just how strong his newfound trust of Lex really is. Meanwhile, Jonathan and Lionel come to blows over a blackmail scam.

The Starbucks was a bustle of lunchtime activity. The chatter of students discussing assignments, people ordering drinks and the hum of the coffee machines so strong, Clark was especially grateful for his superpowered hearing, otherwise he'd never be able to hear his friend over the din. And it was hard enough keeping up with Chloe without distractions, she was talking so fast, eyes glowing with excitement.

"Honestly, Clark," she was saying, taking a well practiced sip of her Café Verona so it didn't interrupt her flow in the slightest. "The doctors are all completely shocked. Apparently she's been getting progressively worse ever since she was committed and she finally slipped into a fully comatose state over six months ago. Nothing they did could bring her out of it. But she always responds to me. Only little things, like holding my hand usually. But when I saw her that first time, I'm telling you, she looked right at me. Just for a second, but she recognised me, I know it. And she hugged me, Clark, wrapped her arms right round me. It was... it was pretty amazing," Chloe did pause then, a warm smile on her face. "I mean, Dad and I always thought she left because she didn't care, you know? But the doctors really can't pin this condition down, they think she must have been sick for a long time, maybe even before she left, and we just didn't know it. So maybe she didn't leave because she wanted to... Dad's coming with me next time I visit. I mean, she responded to me, maybe another familiar face will help. He was sorta nervous about the idea at first, but he still cares about her as much as I do, and I know he'll be glad to see her again."

Chloe finally took a break from the explanation she'd started way back at the Daily Planet, ripping the plastic packaging from her blueberry muffin. She'd been visiting her mother regularly for the past couple of weeks now, but this was the first time she'd told anyone outside her family about it, afraid that mentioning it aloud might somehow lessen her happiness at having her mother back in her life again. Today though, her father had agreed to visit with her, Clark had surprised her by turning up and offering to buy her coffee, everything just seemed to be working out so well, and Clark was his usual warm, caring self in his bright red jacket and blue Tee, and Chloe couldn't help but tell him.

Now, Clark looked at her with his brightest smile, his eyes filled with affection and a little pride.

"That's great, Chloe," he said, putting his own coffee cup, already empty, to the side. "I mean, I'm sorry to hear your mom's so sick," he added, more seriously. "But it's great that you're seeing her again, being a part of her life. I'm happy for you."

Chloe took a bite of her muffin and smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Clark," she nodded, calmer now the initial explanation was over. "It's not all plain sailing, of course. I mean, she is still sick, and I still don't really understand why she left us, but you're right, it's good to be with her again." Taking another bite of her muffin, she chewed thoughtfully. "The crazy thing is, I probably never would have gone if it hadn't been for Lex." She shook her head in disbelief and took another sip of coffee.

Clark threw her a bemused smile.

"Lex?"

"Yeah," Chloe nodded. "He came to see me after that thing with Gretchen. Turned out he'd completely broken the patient-doctor confidentiality laws by getting hold of my mother's medical records. Then he gave me the address of the institution she was in and told me to go see her."

Clark looked surprised, this was all news to him, and he'd been meeting with Lex regularly at 33.1 since then. In fact, they'd been there together not two days ago, checking on one of the successfully implemented, self-supervised training sessions Clark had suggested.

"Really?" he asked, uncertain whether to disapprove or not.

"Well," Chloe amended. "I guess he wasn't exactly as blunt as that, or as demanding. And as questionable as his methods were, in a way, he has given me my mother back." She shrugged. "It's weird. I mean, one minute he's building environment destroying weapons, and souping up thugs in secret projects, apparently without any thought to the safety and well being of others. The next, he's so concerned about one person that he goes out of his way to try and reunite them with family."

"And don't forget, he did save you and your dad's life when you were testifying against Lionel," Clark added, eager to bring his friend round to Lex these days.

Chloe nodded in agreement, but looked confused.

"I just don't know what to make of him anymore," she admitted. "I can't figure out if he really is the conniving Luthor everyone's always taken him for and he just plays at being honest sometimes, or if he really is on the side of good after all."

"Well, maybe it's not as simple as being right or wrong," Clark suggested. "It's true some of his projects haven't been ones I've agreed with, but maybe he honestly thought they were for the best."

"Ah, the age old 'ends justify the means' argument," Chloe said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table in a 'ready to debate' stance. "Employed by those in power as an excuse for whatever atrocity they feel like committing next. I never thought Clark Kent would buy into the propaganda." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not! I don't," Clark insisted in a rush. "All I'm saying is, sometimes things aren't so black and white. I mean, look at me," he put his hands to his chest for emphasis. "I try and live my life honestly, helping people, stopping things I think are wrong. But I also lie to people, everyday, about who I am, and what I can do."

"Yeah, but you have to, Clark," Chloe responded. "We all know what would happen if the rest of the world knew about you. Scientists would be falling over each other trying to chop you up and experiment on you, not to mention the media frenzy. There'd be so much commotion you wouldn't only lose any chance you have at a normal life, you'd never get the chance to help anybody again."

"Exactly," Clark nodded. "Which basically means, if I want to live a good life, I have to be dishonest. It's necessary. Even though, a lot of the time, I hate to do it." Clark folded his arms in front of him on the table with a sigh.

Chloe frowned in sympathy.

"And you think maybe Lex has the same problem?" she asked, curious. "He doesn't like building weapons and stuff, but he thinks he has to?" She didn't sound convinced, but she wasn't discounting the idea either.

"Maybe," Clark replied, lifting his eyes to meet hers. Chloe held his gaze for a moment, impressed by the earnestness. Then she shrugged, leaning back and gulping her coffee again.

"I don't know, Clark," she said. "I know you're trying to give Lex another chance, but I'm not sure a bout of coffee-shop philosophy is really enough to convince me of the purity of his motives."

She gave him a surprisingly apologetic smile and Clark grinned back, tilting his head in a 'fair enough' gesture. The goodness of Lex's character would speak for itself in time, he figured.

Further philosophy, coffee-shop or otherwise, was prevented by the shrill ring of Clark's cell and he noted the caller ID with a grin.

"Lana, hey."

He was still a little uneasy about the way Lana was, in effect, spying on Lex for him. Not just because it was unnecessary, but because it revealed a duplicity in Lana he'd hitherto been unaware of, and he wasn't sure he approved of in her. Still, it was an issue that hadn't come up recently, and instead their free time together had been filled with easier activities like going out for lunch, watching movies and the like, as well as making plans for the wedding of course. Clark was starting to feel a bit more relaxed about their relationship again, although his desire to hide the truth about Lex persisted.

Clark frowned at the breathless and slightly panicked response on the other end of the line, feeling his heart rate quicken as Lana explained she was at Metropolis General Hospital and needed his help.

"I'll be right there."

Clark made his way to the accidents and emergency room with trepidation. He'd left Chloe in town, promising to call her with an update once he found out exactly what was wrong. It felt like his whole life revolved around hospitals at the moment. Lana had been shaken on the phone, but still collected - whatever had happened, it didn't sound serious enough to be a result of Jor-El's power. Clark didn't like to write the possibility off completely though - if the experience with Chloe's possession had taught him anything it was that it didn't hurt to be too careful.

Stepping into the room, he saw Lana sitting quietly while a nurse applied a white bandage to a, thankfully small, cut on her forehead.

"Lana," he called, his face clouding with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lana nodded, as the nurse stepped passed them with a smile, leaving them alone. "I'm fine, it's just a cut."

"What happened?" asked Clark.

"I was driving down the street heading toward the library," Lana started explaining, expression deeply serious. "When this guy, ran out in front of my car," she gestured with her hand for emphasis. "I didn't even have time to break. Clark, I hit him, full on." She stressed the last two words, making sure Clark completely understood.

Clark's face clouded with sorrow.

"Lana, I'm sorry," he said, reaching a hand to her shoulder, but stopping just before, uncertain exactly how to comfort someone when they've just accidentally hospitalised someone, maybe even killed them.

"No, Clark, you don't understand," Lana continued. "He didn't have a scratch on him." Her gaze turned intense and Clark took a breath.

"Did he do anything else?" he asked quickly, lowering his voice. "Did he try and hurt you?"

Lana shook her head.

"No," she said. "Actually, he was the one who brought me here. He seemed devastated to have hurt me, he was..." she leaned forward, lowering her own voice. "He was nothing like the others, from the ship. He was kind to me, Clark. He, kind of reminded me of you." She gave a quick smile.

Clark returned it with a brief one of his own, but his eyes were distant as he thought furiously about what this could mean. Clark had always hoped Jor-El had been wrong about him being Krypton's only survivor. Maybe someone else had sent their kid to Earth as well, and there was more of his people here, raised human just like him. Clark's heart jumped at the thought.

"Did he say who he was?" he asked.

Lana shook her head again.

"I asked, but he wouldn't tell me his name. And he was acting sort of jumpy, like someone was after him. He only just left a few minutes before you got here, for all I know he's still somewhere in the hospital."

"I'll have a look round," Clark nodded. "What does he look like?"

Five minutes later and Clark had whizzed through the whole hospital, finding no one who matched Lana's description. He stopped beside a window with a sigh, looking outside to the parking lot. Suddenly he tensed, spotting a young man step out of the exit. He was wearing a grey top and yellow jacket, contrasting sharply with his dark skin, and while it wasn't the strange black and purple jumpsuit Lana had described, it was the closest match Clark had found yet. The man looked round uneasily, and when a police car drove passed he started in notable fear. Must be him. Clark was outside in a second.

"Is that who's after you? The police?" he asked.

The guy spun round, barely concealing his shock.

"You got the wrong guy," he muttered, stepping quickly passed the other man.

"So my fiancée didn't crash her car running into you?" Clark persisted, following him.

The guy stopped for a moment, eyeing Clark intently. Apparently he decided there was no point in lying, because he didn't even try to deny the fact.

"What are you looking for, an apology?" he shot over his shoulder, starting to walk away again.

"Just some answers," Clark responded, softer. "She said she hit you full on and you're not even hurt. How'd you manage that?" Clark held his breath.

The guy sighed, stopping by a fancy blue-stoned mural on the hospital wall. He turned back, face impassive.

"Milk," he deadpanned. "Does a body good. That answer enough?"

Clark paused in sudden shock - standing face to face like they were, he realised he recognised the guy and an unbidden flash of disappointment passed through him. Because Clark knew this was no Kryptonian. Mistaking his silence for acceptance, the other man turned away again.

"Wait, Victor?" Clark asked, stopping the guy in his tracks. "Victor Stone? Met High wide receiver."

Victor turned round slowly, eyeing Clark with more care.

"I know you?" he asked.

"I'm Clark Kent, I played for the Smallville Crows," Clark explained.

"Kent... quarterback," Victor nodded slightly. "That's some arm you got." His lips twitched as though he wanted to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"I don't play anymore," Clark admitted with a shrug - completely lost now.

"Yeah, me neither," Victor responded, sounding sad.

Clark ran his tongue over his top lip in a nervous flick, preparing, and then raised his eyes, holding Victor's gaze.

"It's not surprising, considering I heard you were dead," he stated, recalling both him and his dad mourning the loss over the paper a few months ago.

Victor looked away, not surprised just resigned. "Look, I'm sorry about your girl, Kent," he said, looking back to Clark in genuine remorse. "But there are places I don't want to be right now. Catch ya later, Kent." He made to leave again, this time with a sense of finality, but Clark grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Victor, wait-" Clark started.

"Let me go," Victor demanded, shaking Clark's arm roughly away. The force behind the movement was a shock to both of them, as Clark was hurled into the air, slamming into the blue stoned mural in front of them.

"Kent!" Victor cried in dismay. "Kent, are you...?" He blinked as Clark stepped away from the wall unscathed, quickly dusting off his jacket and making sure no one was watching. "What the hell are you made of?" Victor asked.

"I was just about to ask you that," Clark replied. As an afterthought, he switched to x-ray, scanning Victor's body. What he saw was an implausible mix of human skeleton and mechanical parts, somehow all working together.

"What are you looking at?" the cyber-skeleton asked, uncertain.

Clark blinked, bringing Victor back into focus, human face creased with confusion.

Jonathan sighed at the scraps of metal cluttering up the kitchen table, all parts of the tractor's engine and all of them faulty. He put down the rag and the wrench he was holding and shook his head.

"That's it," he muttered not without sorrow. "We'll just have to get a new one this time..."

Behind him the side door opened and Martha walked in, carrying a stack of plastic tubs balanced awkwardly on top of each other. Jonathan instantly jumped up to her rescue, grabbing a couple of the tubs before they fell.

"Look out," he said, grinning.

"Wha-?" Martha looked up, distracted. "Jonathan, what are you still doing here? I thought you had a flight to catch for that conference in Topeka?" She suddenly looked worried.

"Relax, Martha," Jonathan reassured her, putting the tubs down by the sink. "The flight's not until this evening, I've got plenty of time."

"Oh," Martha put her stack next to the others with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I must have got confused," she continued unhappily. "There was a problem at the Talon this morning. Somebody made a mistake on the order form and we ended up with far too much butter. I didn't want to waste it, so I'm having all of the staff take some home, that's what all this is. I guess your schedule just slipped my mind..."

Jonathan put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Martha, it's fine. It's not your responsibility to memorise every detail of my senatorial commitments. You've got your own job to focus on, that should come first."

"I don't want you to think I don't care about what you're doing," Martha insisted, still looking flustered.

"I don't think that," Jonathan said, squeezing her shoulder, tone lowered to something more serious. "You've been a great support already Martha, and I appreciate it. But I don't expect you to be with me twenty-four-seven. I promised you when I chose to run for office that I wouldn't let it take over both our lives, and I meant that. You focus on your own job, I can take care of mine."

Martha relaxed; all the fears she'd been harbouring melting with a smile.

"You promise to tell me if you need any help though?" she prodded. Jonathan rolled his eyes a little, but he nodded.

"Of course," he replied, pulling his wife into a warm hug.

A car horn beeped sharply outside.

"Oh!" Martha cried, pulling away. "That's Liz, she's waiting for me. She just drove me up here so I could drop off the butter. I've got to go. Could you put them in the fridge for me?" she gestured to the tubs. Jonathan nodded and Martha leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Jonathan stepped outside with her and watched as she ran up to a small, red car outside the front gate.

"Good luck at the conference!" she called out of the window as it drove away.

"Thanks!" Jonathan called back, waving.

Once the car was out of sight he turned round, intending to head back to the kitchen, but something on the front porch caught his eye. Closer inspection revealed a brown package with a strip of paper taped on it, the name 'Jonathan Kent' typed on the surface.

Jonathan picked it up, frowning. He hadn't heard any deliveries this morning, but then again, whoever left this clearly hadn't wanted to be seen. Opening the front door, he took the package inside. Moving the broken tractor parts aside, he placed it on the kitchen table, opening it up carefully. Inside was a portable DVD player. Jonathan stared at it for a moment, gaze uncertain, then opened it up and pressed 'play.'

He pursed his lips at what he saw, his whole body tensing. It was a shot of an empty warehouse, Lana lying unconscious in the bottom right hand corner. After a few seconds a large explosion started to form in slow motion behind her, but before the flames could engulf her, a figure ran through them, scooping her up and carrying her away. The video stopped with the figure in mid-stride, his face in complete view of the camera. It was Clark.

It was obviously footage of the hostage fiasco Lex and Lana had been involved in a few months ago, Jonathan realised, recalling Clark's explanation of events. Someone had set up a camera in Lex's warehouse, and now they wanted to blackmail him with evidence of Clark's inhuman abilities. Jonathan closed the player with a sharp snap, his mouth a thin line. He had a pretty good suspicion who that 'someone' was. His arrival at the conference would have to be delayed.

A rather quicker than normal truck journey later, and Jonathan was striding angrily down one of the LuthorCorp building corridors, the DVD player, back in it's brown paper casing, clutched tightly in his right hand. Ignoring the protestations of the petite secretary, he pushed the doors of Lionel's office open.

The man in question looked up from the papers on his desk in mild enquiry. Anyone else would have been surprised, but Lionel's expression was its usual blend of arrogant confidence, as if Jonathan was expected.

"Mr Luthor, I'm so sorry," the secretary called from the doorway. "He just barged straight through..."

"That's alright, Miss Robinson," Lionel said with unwavering calm. "Senator Kent obviously has something important to discuss. You may leave us. Oh, and hold my calls until I tell you otherwise." The dark-haired woman nodded, doors sliding shut behind her as she left.

The two men looked at each other for a moment, Lionel flicking his gaze over Jonathan in what appeared to be idle curiosity. Jonathan looked back at him sternly, striking an incongruous figure in his loose blue flannel and patched jeans in the middle of the sharply defined angles of Lionel's office.

"I don't know what game you think you're playing, Lionel," Jonathan said darkly, breaking the silence. "But I thought I made it perfectly clear at our last meeting that I was not going to let you intimidate me."

"Oh, you did, you did," Lionel responded, nodding casually into his hand. "Quite, vividly, if I recall. Which is why I thought it best not to approach you again. At least, until tempers had cooled."

Jonathan scoffed.

"I see," he said, stepping up to the desk. "So you've decided to leave threatening packages for me instead." He threw the brown bag unceremoniously on the desk. The force sent a couple of papers fluttering to the floor. "A rather childish tactic, if you ask me."

Lionel pulled the package towards himself, frowning.

"Indeed," he muttered, removing the DVD player and opening the lid. "Which is why I'd never even considered it," he continued. "What is this?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know," Jonathan responded, resting his hands on the desk and leaning over. "I know what you're trying to do, first with the photograph, now this. Revealing all you know about my son bit by bit, hoping to scare me into submitting to you. Well I can tell you now, it's not going to work."

"I assure you, this is no pretence," Lionel protested. "I've never laid eyes on this package until now. Am I to assume from what you say it has something to do with Clark?" Lionel's eyes flicked back to the small screen and he pressed 'play.' As the scene unfolded his expression darkened. "When did you receive this?" he asked, voice low.

"You know very well it arrived on my doorstep less than two hours ago," Jonathan muttered through gritted teeth. Lionel lifted his head slowly, eyes meeting Jonathan's and fixing there.

"Jonathan," he said quietly. "You really must let go of this incessant desire to villainize me, it's helping no one and could very well impede upon your son's well being."

"Don't you dare sit there and tell me this is about Clark," Jonathan hissed. "You don't give a damn about him one way or the other, you're just using him to get to me."

Lionel gave a small, seemingly impatient, sigh.

"Think logically, Jonathan," he said coolly. "If I truly wanted to use what I know about Clark against you there are plenty of, far more drastic, means I could have employed to do so. Instead, I have done nothing but approach you and offer my assistance. As I told you before, I want to protect your secret as much as you do."

Jonathan grunted in disbelief.

"But only with a price," he stated.

"It seems only fair that any effort I make to help you and your family should allow for some small favours in return," Lionel admitted, leaning back in his chair and arching his fingers. "That's simply good business. And I wouldn't ask for much, just that you allow LuthorCorp to support you during your time in office and let me help you with your campaigns."

"I will never make another deal with you again," Jonathan said firmly.

"Don't be hasty, Senator," Lionel said, leaning forward again. "From the looks of it, you're in serious trouble," he reached over and grabbed the top corner of the DVD player purposefully. "I could make this go away for you. Somehow I doubt it's a problem you'll dispose of so easily on your own." He shut the lid and slipped the player back in the envelope, as though emphasising just how easy the disposal would be.

Jonathan was silent for a moment, eyes weary as he considered. Obviously he wasn't going to trust the elder Luthor for a second, but thinking about it now, Jonathan had to admit, Lionel had a point about the package. If he'd wanted to put pressure on the Kent family Lionel could have contacted the press, maybe even the government. He had enough money and power that, once Jonathan had agreed to his demands, he could call them off without a problem. Blackmail through the sending of a suspicious package was perhaps too low, even for him. Jonathan took his hands off the desk, leaning back a little.

"If, as you say, that package really has nothing to do with you," he said, rather more calm. "And I'm not saying I believe that. We can handle it just fine on our own, without resorting to your underhand tactics to, dispose of the problem."

"Very well," Lionel responded. "Should you change your mind, you know where I am." He pushed to package towards Jonathan. "Now if you're quite finished admonishing me," he continued, tidying the papers where the package had disrupted them. "I really am very busy."

Jonathan gave the other man one last, distrusting look, but there really was nothing else to say. Picking up the package again, he turned and left the room.

Lionel looked up from his papers as the door shut, brow furrowed in thought. Then, slowly, a large, feral smile spread across his face.

Clark arrived at the Kent Farm with Victor shortly after Jonathan left for Metropolis. After a little more debate, Victor had eventually stopped trying to run and consented to Clark's help, providing they got away from the hospital as soon as possible. Clark's first thought was to take him to 33.1, because he couldn't think of anywhere else an unusual person might be safer, but when he called Lex the line was busy. Not wanting to bring anyone new to the project without consulting Lex first, Clark decided to bring Victor to the only other safe haven he knew of, his home. Fortunately, he'd had classes that morning, which meant he had a car available for transport. Not that Clark needed a car to get to college, of course, but he found it useful for storing his books and folders in.

Leaving Victor in the barn, Clark quickly searched the house, planning to tell his parents what was going on, and was surprised to find the place empty. His mom was probably at the Talon, but he was sure his dad should have still been around. The tractor parts left strewn across the kitchen table made his absence all the stranger, but Clark shrugged it off, assuming something had come up. His parents were both a lot busier these days. Unable to tell his parents, Clark called Chloe and updated her on the situation instead, asking if she'd mind heading over to the hospital to check on Lana, who Clark had had to leave behind. As he made his way back to the barn, Lana called him herself.

"Lana, hi," he replied, already sounding apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry I left without explaining things to you. I found the guy you ran into, but he didn't really want to hang around." Clark started up the steps to the barn loft. "No, actually it would probably be better if you stayed in Metropolis until I figure things out," Clark replied to her request to come over - Victor was uneasy enough as it was, more people crowding round him was probably the last thing he wanted. "Chloe's heading over to pick you up." In the loft, Victor sat at Clark's computer, body hunched over in dejection, a newspaper article headed 'Met Wide Receiver Dies in Car Crash' open onscreen. Clark sighed, grimacing with sympathy. Lana was saying something in his ear about love and seeing him soon. "Okay, bye," Clark muttered, distracted, as he clicked the phone shut and slipped it in his pocket.

Clark stepped across the loft, putting on a smile. "Newspapers got it wrong, huh?" he asked hopefully.

Victor shook his head slowly without taking his eyes off the screen.

"No," he said, deep voice very soft. "They didn't." There was a small pause. "We were all in the car. Laughing, carrying on. Then it started to snow." Victor's lips curved in a small parody of a smile. "My little sister always loved the snow... My ma, my pops, my little sister..." he took a breath, eyes shining, and Clark leaned against the wooden railing at the top of the stairs, face deep with sorrow; he couldn't even imagine grief like that, losing your whole family.

"I should have died with them," Victor continued, tone forceful despite being little more than a whisper. "I passed out..." He finally turned to look at Clark with a wry smile. "Expecting to see some angels next time I woke up. Instead I got a bunch of Cyntechnics Scientists playing Frankenstein."

"Cyntechnics? They did this to you?" Clark asked gently, trying to get the full story.

Victor nodded.

"I wasn't the only dead guy they pulled from an accident," he explained. "Just the first to survive their experiments." He seemed bitter about it. "If it wasn't for this one doctor that helped me escape, I'd be more machine than man right now."

"Machine," Clark nodded, stepping away from the railing and moving closer. "You mean bionics," he continued, more thoughtful. "That's what all the metal is in your body."

Victor frowned.

"How do you know what's in me?" he asked, not suspicious, just curious. "And what about that wall you slammed into, how come you're not even hurt?"

"You're not the only one who drinks a lot of milk," Clark deadpanned. Victor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you're bionic, like me?" he persisted. Clark shook his head.

"No," he admitted, cautiously. "I'm, just different."

Victor nodded and didn't push. After a moment his eyes glowed with a hint of interest.

"What about your fiancée, Lana," he questioned, looking up. "She okay with you being, whatever you are?"

Clark opened his mouth to respond with a 'yes.' Then hesitated - thinking of Lana's panic at the mansion that couple of weeks ago; her steely expression as she told him she'd protect his secret. An expression someone could easily hide fears behind.

"She accepts me for who I am," he answered finally. "But I think it's hard on her sometimes, carrying my secret." His eyes dimmed.

Victor noted the change with an unhappy nod and looked away.

"I couldn't put a burden like that on Katherine," he said quietly, lapsing into silence.

"Katherine?" Clark prompted. Victor stared into the distance for a second, then smiled - the first real smile Clark had seen him make.

"She's my girl," Victor explained, voice a little lighter. Standing up, he pulled a dog-eared photograph from his back pocket and gave it to Clark. A young, dark-skinned woman with long wavy hair trailing over her shoulders smiled up at him.

"She's beautiful," Clark said, with a smile of his own. A foolish comment really, all men knew their girlfriends were beautiful. Victor nodded, moving away to look out of the window.

"We were planning on getting married after school," he said sadly, gazing up at the sky. "Some wedding that'd be now." Clark walked up beside him.

"Does she even know you're alive?" he asked.

"No," Victor replied, turning to Clark, looking heartbroken. "And I don't want to see her. If she knew what I am now... what they did to me... how could she love a thing like me?"

"You won't know if you don't try," Clark advised gently, handing the photograph back. Victor looked down at it, looking pained and hopeful all at once. Then his shoulders sagged in defeat.

"It won't matter if Cyntechnics catches up with me," he said with a shrug.

"Well, I've got some friends who might be able to help you," Clark said, newly confident - even if he couldn't get hold of Lex today, there was still Chloe at the Daily Planet. "We could find out more about Cyntechnics, maybe get them off your back."

Victor's eyes brightened with hope as he turned.

"You'd do that for me?" he asked, clearly moved.

Clark smiled. "I've kinda got this thing about being experimented on in labs," he joked, trying for lightheartedness.

The thought reminded Clark he still hadn't got back to Lex about having himself tested, his nervousness about the idea pushing it to the back of his mind until he'd almost forgotten it. Clark had to admit being duly impressed with Lex, who'd clearly been interested in the plan, for not pushing the matter once since Clark had hesitantly suggested it that time at 33.1. It was good to know that some people, at least, weren't so desperate for scientific advancement that they had to force others into experiments without their consent.

"Sit tight, you should be safe here while I go talk to the others," Clark told Victor, who threw him a grateful smile. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Clark pulled his phone from his jeans as he turned. He was already dialling Lex's number as he headed down the stairs.

Jonathan had just thrown the package into the back of his truck when his mobile started to ring. Leaning against the truck door, he pulled it out of his jeans' pocket and answered.

"Jonathan Kent." He frowned at the response. "Who are you? How did-?" A pause as the person interrupted. Jonathan's eyes flashed with anger. "Yes, I understand," he muttered. "But if you think you can push me around like this you-!" Jonathan held the phone away from him, line now dead, and eyed it menacingly - as though itself the root of his problems. Taking a deep breath he calmed himself down and glanced at his watch before climbing in the truck. It seemed Lionel's protestations of innocence might be true after all.

Lex had still been busy when Clark called, so he'd rung Chloe and asked her to see what she could dig up on Cyntechnics before zipping over to the mansion to find out what was going on. A quick x-ray of Lex's office found him in serious discussion with three Japanese men in sharp business suits. From the small amount of conversation Clark listened in on it seemed all four of them were speaking Japanese. Lex's face was a mask of polite interest, but Clark could tell by the way he leant a little too much against the desk that his friend was tired and probably a little bored. Clark knew if he did step in Lex would no doubt find some excuse to cancel the meeting for him, hell, he might even welcome the disruption. But then again, if Lex really didn't want to talk to these men, he could make up excuses without Clark - clearly the discussion was an important one Lex felt he had to make, even if he didn't want to.

Instead of disturbing him, then, Clark whizzed over to the Daily Planet to see what Chloe had found, figuring he could always try Lex again when his meeting was over. He arrived on Chloe's floor in time to see her and Lana, a clear plaster now fixed on her forehead, walking to Chloe's desk from the coffee machine. They were talking about Victor. Chloe had a large, steaming white cup in her hands Clark wanted to believe was the first coffee she'd had since lunch, but suspected it was more like the third.

"So, on a scale from one to Taye Diggs," Chloe was asking animatedly. "Where exactly are we?"

"Um, he's definitely up there," Lana smiled back as they reached her desk.

"Yeah?" Chloe raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Tall, dark and bionic. You think he likes blondes?"

"His girlfriend's a brunette, sorry," Clark interrupted, stepping over as Chloe sat down. Chloe looked disappointed, giving a small shrug as she turned on her computer screen.

"Does she know what actually happened to him?" Lana asked, concerned.

"No," Clark replied. "He doesn't want her to know. He's afraid how she'll react."

Lana frowned lightly.

"Well, what's he gonna do? Just keep lying to her and hope she doesn't notice how different he is?" she asked, disapproving. "We all know how well that doesn't work out." She caught Clark's eye and he looked down sheepishly.

"So," Chloe chimed in, breaking the tiff threatening to explode. "I did some digging in Cyntechnics' backyard, and I came up with more flowers than dirt." She frowned at Clark in apology.

"There's gotta be something," Clark insisted, leaning round to look at the screen.

"Well," Chloe shrugged, clicking open a window. "Their main focus has become the Machina Project," she read. "Its cutting edge prosthetics designed to replace damaged or severed limbs." She shrugged, acknowledging just how not dirty the information was.

Clark shook his head.

"What they did to Victor is much more extensive than a severed limb," he stated seriously.

Lana looked thoughtful.

"Who owns Cyntechnics?" she asked. Chloe went about looking it up while Clark smiled at Lana's quick thinking - Cyntechnics pristine appearance stank of a corporate cover up, he should have seen it himself.

"Um, it is..." Chloe clicked on a couple more links. "LuthorCorp. Huh." Clark and Lana looked at each other in surprise. "And just when you were starting to convince me Lex deserved another chance, Clark," Chloe continued, looking up, mouth flattening for a moment to a sympathetic line. "Unless you're gonna try and write off what happened to Victor as another one of those, unpleasant but necessary, acts."

Clark turned away - confused, and hurt.

At the mansion, Lex sat down in one of his padded, leather chairs with a long sigh of relief. The three men from Takeda, Japan's largest pharmaceutical company, thankfully out of his office and pulling out of the driveway. They were one of LuthorCorp's largest overseas assets, and were also where Lex acquired many of the drugs for 33.1. Losing them wasn't an option, meaning when they asked Lex for a meeting, he made time for it, whether he wanted to or not. They claimed to be unhappy with their funding, complaining Lex was paying them less than Lionel promised in LuthorCorp's original deal. It was bullshit, of course, Lex had seen their original contract, they were just trying to bleed the company for more money, but he couldn't just say that, there were corporate rules to follow, games to be played. In the end he'd agreed to raise their funding by a third of what'd they'd asked, it was inconvenient, but the company should be able to handle it. Lex closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering what it would be like to have another job, one where people were actually honest with each other, one he really enjoyed. He couldn't imagine it.

Opening his eyes in resignation, he reached across to the glass coffee table before him and picked up the new contract he and the other three men had written up, printed out and signed five minutes ago, checking it over a final time. It was then, when Lex was tired, irritable and wanted nothing more than to relax, preferably with something alcoholic, that Clark barged in, opening the double doors behind Lex with a flourish. All previous fears of interrupting apparently gone.

"We need to talk," he stated. Rather melodramatically Lex thought.

"And you should work on your entrance, Clark," Lex muttered, voice turning cold. It'd been a while now since Clark had sounded so righteous and accusatory towards him, but not so long that Lex had forgotten how to cut himself off from the emotional backlash usually accompanying such confrontations. "A bit abrupt, don't you think?" Clark moved to the side of his chair.

"When you first took me to 33.1, you stood right in front of me and told me you weren't trying to make soldiers," Clark said, gaze intent as he stared at the other man. "And I believed you."

"A fortuitous event for both of us," Lex responded, standing up and taking the contract to his desk to file away. He hadn't finished checking it yet but needed an excuse to move, sitting down left him disadvantaged. "Considering I was telling the truth."

"Were you?" Clark asked, sounding more betrayed than indicative. "Then you don't know anything about Victor Stone being robotized without his consent?"

Lex kept his back to Clark as he slipped the contract in its folder, a flash of curiosity crossing his face as he looked up. Someone was robotized? Lex had to admit, that sounded rather interesting. The name sounded familiar too.

"Victor Stone...?" he muttered. Suddenly a newspaper article sprang to mind, a picture of black kid in a football costume smiling at the camera. Lex always made sure to look over the headlines in the local news, in a town as weird as Smallville even the smallest event could be significant. "Isn't he that football player who died recently?"

"That's what Cyntechnics wanted everyone to believe," Clark responded, moving close enough to breath on the other man's neck. "So they could experiment on him."

Lex sighed, turning his head slightly, but not enough to see Clark's expression. He didn't want to face the matching distrust and disapproval in Clark's eyes that was lacing his tone.

"Then surely you should be badgering Cyntechnics, Clark," he pointed out.

"I am," Clark insisted, not sounding very happy about it. "LuthorCorp bought them out seven months ago."

Lex's brow furrowed, eyes turning distant. His memory was better than most, but seven months was a long time and the tension wafting off Clark's so very close body behind him proved a rather large distraction. Unable to place the company, Lex adopted a general defensive expression and turned round.

"Clark," he said calmly. "In the last quarter alone, LuthorCorp has sold or acquired over a hundred small ventures."

"So you're saying you don't know what goes on in your own company?" Clark raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

Lex sighed. Clark had grown up a small town farmer, what would he know about a business like Lex's?

"Clark, LuthorCorp isn't as simple as a private project," he explained, impatient now. "It's a multinational corporation. The complexity of keeping it operating requires me to delegate responsibilities. Now, if it turns out someone's abusing their position, I promise I'll take the necessary steps to rectify the situation."

Clark scanned Lex's face for a moment, eyes narrow, before looking down, apparently unsatisfied.

"So will I," he said softly.

Lex nodded, acknowledging the opposition.

"I'm glad our agreement not to give up on each other has worked out so well," he said, face impassive, although the spark in his eyes betrayed bitterness.

Clark paused, looking upset, and for a second, Lex thought he might apologise. But the other man turned round and walked out without looking back. Exit as abrupt as his entrance.

Lex closed his eyes sadly.

Clark could have supersped back to the barn, where Lana was checking on Victor, but he chose to walk normally instead, wanting the time to think. His heart felt oddly heavy, the same way it had after finding Lex's secret room - proof the other man had been lying about no longer investigating him. It was the betrayal, not the investigation, that hurt Clark the most, and though Lex had said nothing at the mansion explicitly connecting him to Cyntechnics' Machina project, Clark still felt an echo of that same betrayal. Lex been so cold with him, more than the Kryptonian had come to expect these past few weeks, and Clark couldn't shake the idea he was being lied to. He and Lex had built up a fairly stable partnership since Clark had started helping at 33.1, but Clark realised now, despite the resurfacing affection, there was still part of him that didn't completely trust Lex. Clark wanted to believe he was just being paranoid, but didn't like to get his hopes up yet in case his fears proved true.

The unmistakable sound of Lana screaming snapped Clark out of his musing at once. It was faint, picked up only with superhearing, and it's location was uncertain. Listening hard, Clark picked up a dull thud, like a body hitting wood - indicator enough for him. He was at the barn in a second, finding Lana and Victor knocked to the floor, two men in black combat gear, both carrying rifles, advancing on the bionic man. One of the men paused to speak in a transmitter on his top.

"Target acquired," he reported.

Clark took advantage of his distraction to zip up next to the man and grab him by the collar. The Kryptonian threw him heavily into his partner and the momentum sent them crashing against a wooden beam, knocking them unconscious.

Clark knelt beside Lana and helped her sit up.

"Lana, are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she replied, breathless, wiping loose hair from her face.

"That makes one of us," Victor added, a tremor of fear in his voice.

Clark looked over to see the other man clutching his right shoulder. A black fluid that looked suspiciously like oil seeped through his fingers.

"Oh my god, Victor," Lana called, hurrying over. Kneeling in front of him, she reached a hand out to his arm, then hesitated, uncertain. "What is it? What's happening to you?"

"I'm not sure," Victor said tensely, grimacing. Clark moved next to Lana as Victor removed his yellow jacket, straining his neck to get a better look at the shoulder. "But I know that the bionics in my body are all connected..." he continued.

Finding a small bullet hole, Victor grabbed the loose skin around it with his left hand and pulled. A section of his 'skin' ripped away with a wet, slurping sound, and Clark and Lana shared a glance of equal unease. Victor, however, seemed unperturbed, and examined himself closely. Instead of muscles and blood vessels, his arm was filled with metal and circuitry.

"Damn," he muttered after a moment, looking away. "This goop coming out of my arm?" he indicated to the others. "It's from my power cell," he pulled the loose piece of 'skin' over the 'wound' and held it there tightly. "If it continues to drain like this, I'm a dead man."

For a moment the three of them just stared at each other, panicked. Then Clark sprang into action.

"We're not gonna let that happen," he insisted, helping Victor to stand. "But first, we have to get you away from here. Cyntechnics obviously know about this place now, it isn't safe."

"We could take him to the Talon," Lana suggested, holding Victor's jacket against his shoulder to try and stem the flow of oil. "Chloe mentioned Lois was away for a few days and I know where there's a spare key to the apartment."

"Perfect," Clark nodded. "You go take Victor there, I'll see what I can do about getting him some help. You said there was a doctor at Cyntechnics who helped you?" he asked Victor. "What's his name? Maybe if I find him he can help you again."

"Didn't Lex offer to help when you went to see him?" Lana asked hopefully, wanting to believe in Lex almost as much as Clark did.

Clark didn't meet her eyes.

"He said he'd look into the project," he muttered. "But we don't have time for that, Lana. Victor needs help now."

"Kent, I'm sorry," Victor breathed. "I never meant to bring my crazy world into your life."

"Don't worry about it," Clark told him, tone firm. "Just tell me the name of your friend and get over to the Talon where you'll be safe. Everything'll be okay, I promise."

"Dr. Hong," Victor replied. "I never knew his first name. We didn't exactly get the chance to have a proper conversation. He's a good man, Clark. Don't force him to help if he doesn't want to. I don't want him getting into trouble because of me."

Clark nodded, understanding.

After making sure Victor and Lana were both safely in Lana's car and on the way to the Talon, Clark headed back over to the Daily Planet to see if Chloe could track down Dr. Hong. It was a research mission the two of them had completed plenty of times before, Clark knew Chloe wouldn't let him down, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this time it was somehow a painful act of defiance not turning to Lex instead.

Ten minutes later and Clark was knocking at the front door of the address Chloe had found for him. There was no reply.

"Dr. Hong!" he called, knocking again. Still no reply. Clark frowned. Listening carefully he could make out a strange hissing noise coming from the garage on the left. Heading over to it, Clark looked through the window. Inside, a car had its engine running, a tube attached to the front window and leading down to the exhaust pipe pumping carbon dioxide steadily into the car body. A man Clark could only assume was Dr. Hong slumped over in the driver's seat.

Hurrying inside, Clark pulled the car door open, yanked the tube away and turned off the ignition. Not feeling very hopeful, he reached across and checked the man's pulse. After a second of no response, Clark moved his hand sadly away.

"Is he dead?" a quiet voice asked behind him.

Clark turned to see Lex standing in the doorway - black coat, combined with the smoke now pouring from the car, making him an ominous shadow.

"You sure you don't already know the answer to that question?" Clark asked, voice dull as he moved passed Lex and away from the smoke, craving the fresh air outside. He noticed a car was now parked in the drive, one of Lex's. He must not have heard it pull up as he was taking Dr. Hong's pulse, remiss of him.

"Clark, do you actually think I had something to do with this?" Lex asked, following - not defensive, only questioning. If anything he sounded disappointed.

Clark stopped walking, shoulders sagging.

"I don't know, Lex," he admitted, not turning round. "Your being here is kinda suspicious, considering last time we talked you acted like you'd never heard of Cyntechnics."

"Last time we talked, I hadn't," Lex insisted behind him, making no attempt to move. This kept Lex in a powerless position - weak, almost desperate - but he didn't seem to care. "It's only a small project, Clark, I'd simply forgotten about it. But after you waved the red flag, I looked into it, like I promised. It turns out Dr Kreig, the man behind Cyntechnics' Machina project, did request funding for research into cyborg theory, as well for the project's other technological endeavours. It sounded interesting, so I gave it a green light. I had no idea he'd be using people without their consent like he did with Victor. You have to believe me."

Clark turned at the appeal, scanning Lex's face. The other man looked back at him steadily, lips parted, eyes pleading. Clark's heart ached for him in a way the younger man didn't understand.

"That still doesn't explain how you come to be here," he stated simply. Lex nodded in agreement.

"I checked out the rest of Cyntechnics' staff as well, not just Kreig," he explained. "It turned out Dr. Hong had an appointment with the Metropolis Police tomorrow morning. I think he was going to blow the whistle on Krieg's less than ethical methods of experimentation. I figured if anyone were going to give me information on Victor Stone, it would be him. It looks like Kreig found out about Hong's intentions and got here first." Lex looked back to the garage, his eyes dull.

Clark's brow furrowed in painful uncertainty.

"I want to believe you, Lex, I do," he said. "But I don't get it, if you're not trying to build soldiers, why fund a cyborg project?"

"Cyborg technology isn't just about enhancing people so they can fight," Lex said, a spark of interest flaring behind his eyes. "If all I cared about was its military application, I would have had Dr Kreig move his research into the 33.1 facility, where I could keep a closer eye on him. But that's not why I agreed to the funding. Bionics is also a way of trying to improve people's lives, make them stronger."

"By turning people into metal?" Clark questioned, sceptical.

Lex shrugged.

"Why not?" he asked. "There's more to a person than their physical appearance. That's a lesson I learnt early on." Clark ran his eyes over Lex's scalp and curiously tilted his own head. "I could say a lot more on the subject, believe me," Lex continued, lips flicking a quick half smile. "But we don't really have time for philosophy right now. If you know where Victor is you should tell me, if we're going to help him, we need to get him somewhere safe before Kreig finds him."

"Why can't you just call Kreig and tell him to back off?" Clark asked. "I mean, if LuthorCorp owns the project?"

Lex shook his head with a quick breath of anger, though the inward look in his eyes proved it wasn't at Clark.

"I tried," he said seriously. "But Kreig wouldn't listen to me. He said he wasn't going to let me destroy his life's work. I told him I'd go to the police, but it didn't make any difference. The man's gone completely rogue, and the truth is, I have no evidence he's doing anything wrong. That's another reason I came here, I was hoping Dr. Hong might have the information I needed to shut the project down. Now Hong's dead, it looks like Kreig will stop at nothing to see this project through, which is why you have to tell me where Victor is, Clark. If we can get him to 33.1, he'll be safe there, while I figure out how to deal with Cyntechnics."

Clark bit his lip hard as he thought what to do, if his skin hadn't been invulnerable he probably would have drawn blood. Lex's explanation did make sense, it all came down to whether Clark believed him or not.

Lex noticed Clark's hesitation and understood what it meant. This was a make or break moment for them, because if Clark didn't believe him now, then everything they'd rebuilt after Lana's accident would come crashing down and their friendship really would be over. It wasn't a decision Lex was about to let Clark make lightly, not when so much of the older man's life was riding on it.

"Clark," he said, tone grave. "If we really want to be friends again, we have to trust each other. If we don't, there's no point." Clark lifted his eyes to meet Lex's, holding them both in the moment, significance perfectly mirrored in both their expressions. "You're either with me or against me, Clark. Which is it?"

Clark blinked, startled at the phrase. An almost exact repetition of what Lex had asked him that time at the farm, when all the others thought he was crazy. Clark's answer then had been instinctive, so obvious he hadn't even needed to say it, he'd just left with his friend and hadn't looked back, needing to believe in Lex as much as Lex had needed to be believed in. And after all that time, here they were, re-living that same moment. Or rather, living it again for the first time, since Lex had forgotten the exchange along with everything else the treatment at Belle Reve had taken from him. And what had changed between them, really? It seemed to Clark their needs were still the same, if anything, perhaps they were a more desperate now - the passing of time had shown them both how difficult it really was to get what you want. But this was a second chance, and maybe this time they'd get it right.

"Victor's at the Talon, with Lana," Clark stated clearly. "He's hurt, he was shot. He says his power cell is draining, he needs help urgently."

Lex indulged in a small smile he saw mirrored in Clark's eyes, before focusing on the situation in hand.

"Right," he said, business-like again. "You get him and bring him to 33.1, you'll be faster," Lex instructed, walking to his car. "I'll call my scientists and have them get a lab set up ready for him. Bionics isn't exactly their speciality, but I'm sure between them they'll be able to come up with something that will help. After all, we have the technology. I'll meet you there." He opened the car door and made to get in, while Clark nodded.

The ringing of Clark's mobile stopped them, though, and Lex leant against the car door as the other man answered.

"Hold on, it's Lana," Clark told Lex, putting to phone to his ear. "Lana, what's wrong?" he asked immediately. "What do you mean, he's gone? Gone where?" Clark frowned, then looked dismayed. Lex watched him with growing anxiety. "Lana, that's the first place they'll look!... Okay, okay. Look, don't worry about it, it's not your fault. Just stay at the Talon where it's safe, I'll find him, don't worry."

Clark hung up and shook his head, mostly worried, partly frustrated. "Victor's gone to see Katherine," he sighed. "Lana couldn't stop him."

"Who's Katherine?" Lex questioned.

"Victor's girlfriend," Clark explained, looking up. "He's scared he's dying, he wanted to see her one last time."

Lex's eyes were sympathetic, but his face remained impassive.

"Then the chances are Krieg's already got him," he stated.

Clark nodded grimly.

"Then I'll head to his lab and bust Victor out of there," he said, looking determined.

"On your own?" Lex asked lightly.

"Lex, he sent snipers over to the farm, who knows what kind of security he'll have at his place of work," Clark argued.

"I'm guessing, not as much as you think," Lex replied with a surprising amount of confidence. "If he wants to avoid drawing the attention of the authorities he can't go beyond standard LuthorCorp security, or it might look suspicious. I also suspect a man like Kreig won't have trusted the little team he does have with the full details of his situation, which means I'll still have full access to his facility. Which would be a little easier than 'busting in' don't you think?"

Clark smiled at his friend's desire to help, but seemed unsure whether to accept. Lex shrugged.

"Well, if you'd rather try it your way, please, go ahead, it's not like I can stop you," he said, suddenly over casual. Clark gave him a curious, side-long glance, before nodding and turning to leave. Then he paused, closing his eyes with a wry smile as he realised what Lex was up to. "You do know how to get there, don't you?" Lex asked innocently, folding his arms across the top of the car door.

"Where is it?" Clark asked half-heartedly over his shoulder.

"I'll drive."

Clark turned to find Lex smirking in triumph.

The lights of Metropolis twinkled in the background as Jonathan pulled his truck up to the parking lot just outside the city, as the man on the phone had instructed. Through the padlocked gate, topped with barbed wire, Jonathan could see the lot was only sparsely filled with cars, while the area outside seemed completely deserted, an abandoned warehouse looming ominously to the left. Jonathan jumped out of the truck and looked round, tense and wary.

"Did you bring the money?" a low voice asked from behind him.

Jonathan whipped round to find himself facing a tall, well-toned man decked in black, his blond hair shaved in a military buzz cut. If Jonathan had been in a better state of mind he might have been intimidated. Lionel, at least, was a relatively known quantity; this man was entirely unknown and therefore infinitely more threatening. But Jonathan was never one to admit simple fear, especially now, when his family was relying on him to keep them safe. So instead, he flooded himself with anger, approaching the man with reckless bravado.

"No," he said clearly. "And I'm not going to. I will not have myself or my family controlled in that way."

The man shook his head, looking disappointed.

"A mistake," he responded. "With the information I got, I could ruin your family. Is that really what you want?"

"We can take care of ourselves," Jonathan replied.

"You won't just be facing the press, you know, though it'll probably be them who'll pay the most if you don't cough up," the other man said with a sneer. "You'll have scientists, the government, maybe even the military on your back, looking for that freak you call a son..."

At that, Jonathan snapped, grabbing the man by the shirt and pushing him as hard as possible into the wire gate of the parking lot.

"Don't you ever talk about my son that way again," he hissed. "And you'll get nothing from me. I mean it."

The man in black laughed, pushing Jonathan away easily. Jonathan staggered a little at the force, still weak from the strain on his heart after his last Metropolis tussle.

"What are you gonna do, old man?" the other guy mocked. "Kill me? You don't have the guts. Or the ability. If you want my silence, you know the price. This is your last chance to accept my offer."

Jonathan considered using Clark as means of intimidation, since this guy knew about Clark's powers it probably wouldn't be ineffective as a tactic. But the idea was discarded immediately, he couldn't use his son like that, and besides, despite what this man threatened, Jonathan could never stoop as low as using real, physical harm against him. Unfortunately, it seemed reason was an equally impossible option, not that he'd really held out much hope. The truth of the matter was, Lionel had been right; this was something Jonathan didn't have the means to fight. But neither was it something he was just going to lay down and accept, the Kents had more dignity than that. He only hoped Martha and Clark would be able to forgive him, and they'd get through the inevitable fall-out together.

Jonathan looked the other man in the eye and shook his head.

"No," he repeated. "I can't. Do what you will, we'll get by."

The man looked at him quizzically for a second, as though Jonathan had just told him grass was purple, then he shrugged.

"Whatever old man," he scoffed. "It's your life, and my story to sell. Just remember -" He sauntered passed, waving a finger at the older man. "I offered you a way out."

Stepping into a, previously unnoticed, black Toyota, parked outside the warehouse, the blackmailer sped away.

Once the car was out of sight, Jonathan let out a shaky sigh, shoulders sagging. He walked slowly back to his truck, and then paused - how do you go home and tell your family life as they know it is over? Resting his hands on the bonnet, as though for support, Jonathan closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat.

The black Toyota pulled up by a block of flats outside suicide slums a few minutes later and Jonathan's blackmailer stepped into the building and up the stained staircase to the second floor, a cruel smile playing round his lips.

"Crazy fool," he muttered, slipping his key in the lock of his apartment. After a few seconds of being unable to turn it, he realised the door was unlocked. He turned the handle with a frown and stepped cautiously inside.

"Ah, Mr Oldroyd, you're back at last," called a voice from the small living area. "Please, don't loiter it the hallway, it makes conversation terribly difficult."

Moving into the next room revealed the figure of Lionel Luthor, complete with full business suit and tie, immaculate as always, leaning back nonchalantly in a tattered, green easy chair placed in front of a wide screen TV. In his hand was a small plastic tumbler Oldroyd recognised as one of his own, filled with what looked like brandy. A small hipflask stood on the coffee table to the left, amongst an array of empty beer bottles and cans. This was a detail that passed Oldroyd by, however, as the two men in uniform standing behind the chair, arms folded threateningly, proved the greater concern.

"What do you want?" Oldroyd asked, with more than a hint of unease.

"Just to talk, Morgan," Lionel responded with crooked smile. "I can call you Morgan?" Lionel paused as though expecting an answer, but just when Oldroyd was about to give one, he continued. "After all, it is your name. Morgan Oldroyd, former member of Metropolis Police Academy. Discharged six months ago for 'aggressive and disorderly behaviour.' Your current work as a warehouse security guard is an impressive display of outward respectability, but I'm afraid not enough to hide your alcoholic tendencies, or pay for the, quite incredible, amount of debt you seem to have run into." Lionel raised his eyebrows at the other man and tutted, as though scolding an errant child. "Morgan, Morgan," he shook his head. "You are in trouble." Lionel took a sip of his drink, not taking his eyes off the other man.

"Yeah, well what's my life got to do with you?" Oldroyd responded bitterly, apparently Lionel's description had hit a nerve.

Putting the cup down on the coffee table, Lionel reached behind the left arm of the chair and pulled a laptop out from behind it. Oldroyd's brow furrowed at the sight of it.

"I found this in your bedroom," Lionel explained, unflappably cool. "It contains some particularly, fascinating, images. Images, which, I'm sure, you aren't concerned with in the slightest." Here, Lionel's eyes locked on to the other man's menacingly for a second, before the businessman continued. "But I, on the other hand, have a personal interest in acquiring them. I was hoping that, between us, we could reach some kind of agreement."

Oldroyd's gaze moved slowly from the laptop to the men behind the chair. He swallowed.

Lex pulled up sharply outside Cyntechnics' labs and was already walking confidently towards the entrance before Clark had even left the car, speed and efficiency, when occasion called for it, being one of the more positive results of the Luthor lifestyle. Clark started to catch up with him, then paused, switching to x-ray instead and scanning the building in front of him. It was surprisingly complex inside, making it difficult to search through all the rooms. If I can just find out where Victor is...

"Don't even think about it, Clark," Lex called, distracting Clark back into normal vision. "You're not going in there alone."

"Lex," Clark responded, moving over to where his friend had stopped, tone oddly pleading. When exactly did Lex take control of this rescue? "Anything could be happening to Victor by now, if I go in by myself I can find him faster."

"Clark, Lana phoned us as soon as he'd gone and we drove right here," Lex said reasonably. "In that time, Kreig and his team had to pick Victor up from his girlfriend's as well as bring him back. They won't have had time to do anything drastic. So there's no need for you to rush in and do something rash in front of the facility's state of the art surveillance system just yet."

Clark automatically opened his mouth to disagree, then stopped as what Lex had said registered fully.

"State of the art surveillance?" he queried. Lex nodded.

"Clark, trust me, I want to stop anything else happening to Victor as much as you do," Lex assured him. "But risking you being in the public eye isn't going to help that. We've still got time to find him without moving faster than the speed of sound, I promise. I drove fast, remember?" Lex flashed a quick smile. Clark returned it and nodded, though his body was still tensed for action, and the two of them headed towards the small security booth beside the front gate together.

"Sometimes I wonder how you ever managed to pass your test," Clark muttered as they walked.

"I didn't," Lex responded, matter-of-fact. "Failed three times. By the third time, Dad was so sick of the negative publicity he paid off the instructor," Lex shook his head with a small frown. "That's what it means to be a Luthor, Clark. Success, no matter what."

They'd reached the security booth before Clark had time to decide what appalled him most, Lex's failure or Lionel's principles. Inside, a rather large man wearing a drab, grey uniform was watching security footage on four different screens. Every so often the images would change to different areas in the building. Lex coughed commandingly from the entrance and the man spun round in his chair in an obviously well practiced motion. Clark was impressed the guy didn't hit the walls as he turned, considering how small the booth was.

"Mr. Luthor," the guy stated, eyes widening. "I didn't know we were expecting you."

"An unscheduled visit," Lex replied smoothly. "It's not a problem, is it?"

The man shook his head.

"No, no, of course not," he insisted. "I'll let you right in." He reached over to a button on his right and the metal gate started to open. Lex nodded and moved away, Clark right behind him.

"Wait," the guy called before they stepped through, moving from his chair to stand in the booth's doorway. He sounded nervous, and Lex justified the fact by shooting him a withering look, one that Lionel would have been proud of. The guy seemed to visibly pale under it, but had strength enough to continue. "You're fully cleared, Mr. Luthor, of course. But I'm afraid I can't let anyone else though without express clearance from Doctor Kreig."

Clark shot Lex an anxious look, thinking now might be a good time to do something 'rash,' cameras or not. They couldn't afford to waste any of the time they did have. Lex caught Clark's eye and apparently picked up on the plan, because he shook his head ever so slightly, raising a hand by his side in a staying gesture.

"Clark's with me," Lex stated firmly, and the corner of Clark's mouth twitched a little at Lex's choice of phrase.

"I understand that, Mr. Luthor," the security guard said, looking pained. "But I'm afraid I still can't let him through."

Lex nodded, setting his lips in a thin line.

"I see," he said coldly, moving over to the doorway. The guard flinched a little as Lex stopped in front of him and Clark watched, intrigued, as Lex gazed, apparently idly, over the man's shoulder at the screens behind him.

"You're linked to the entire surveillance system from here aren't you?" Lex said, facing the guard - too close to be as casual as his tone implied. "That means, you must know better than anyone, what goes on in the laboratories here," Lex raised his eyebrows and the guy nodded, uncertain. "So if I told you, I'm here to shut the facility down, you'll probably know why, won't you?" The man frowned, eyes bright with anxiety, instantly proving Lex's hypothesis. "It's not going to be pleasant," Lex continued. "Doctor Krieg's in a lot of trouble, and many of his staff are likely to go down with him. But you seem like a sensible guy. I'm sure you never condoned the Doctor's actions. As you sat here, day after day, watching them... So why don't we make a deal? You let us both through, tell us where Doctor Krieg's holding Victor Stone, and walk away, hopefully to a job that's rather less ethically challenging. In return, I promise not to mention your name to the authorities, during their inevitable involvement."

The guy looked over Lex's expressionless face in notable fear for a second, and then cracked, nodding vigorously.

"Sure, okay, no problem," he babbled. "Last I saw, the Stone kid was being taken to Lab Two in the basement, barely five minutes before you arrived. I don't know what Krieg's gonna do, I mean, like you said, I don't agree with his work, I'm just paid to keep people out, you know?"

"Thank you." Lex dismissed the guy with a wave of his hand and walked through the now fully open gate without a second look. Clark followed him hurriedly, faintly awed by his friend's performance.

"Are you really just gonna let him go?" Clark questioned as they walked across the courtyard. "Isn't he, technically, an accessory to Doctor Krieg's experiments, or something?"

Lex shrugged.

"Technically, yes. But he's not evil, Clark, he's just stupid. I'll have my people keep an eye on him for a few weeks, but I doubt he'll get involved with anything like this again."

Clark nodded, impressed at the extent of Lex's consideration about this one man. It was certainly more than Clark had shown to the various guards he'd slipped passed, or knocked out, in his time. Plus, it had got them both inside without the need for violence. Perhaps Clark really wouldn't need to use his abilities to save Victor after all. It would certainly be refreshing to help someone via normal, human means for once.

It didn't take the two of them long to find the relevant lab at the far side of the basement. They passed several security locked doors on the way, but Lex whipped out a key card from somewhere in his jacket and swiped himself and Clark through without any trouble. Clark wondered if the card was specific to this facility, or if Lex just had some kind of magical Luthor skeleton card that opened any door for him, anywhere. It wouldn't have surprised him. Peering through the tiny, square window in the thick set steel door, Clark saw a shirtless, but apparently healed, Victor, strapped to what looked like a nightmarish metal version of a dentist's chair, around him an assortment of robotic and synthetic limbs hung from the shining white tiles in the ceiling - the sight made Clark shiver. To the left were three men decked in blue gowns akin to those of a hospital surgeon. One of them was dictating something to the other two, who were scribbling intently onto clipboards - this, Clark presumed, was the infamous Doctor Kreig. The doctor typed something into a computer on a bench beside him, looked over the screen and nodded in satisfaction, before picking up an unpleasant drill-like object and turning to Victor. Clark tensed, which was no mean feat considering how keyed up he already was, and curled his hands into fists, ready to punch through the door.

"Clark, wait," Lex whispered next to him. "If I go in first, I might be able to reason with him."

"You tried that already, Lex, it didn't work," Clark whispered back urgently.

"Physical presence can make a lot of difference," Lex explained lightly with his hand on the door handle, an oddly excited glint in his eyes. "Besides, there's a lot of expensive, LuthorCorp funded, equipment in there, Clark. I'd hate to see it destroyed without cause. I'll call if I need you." And before Clark could protest at the inadequacy of his reasoning, Lex had already pushed the door open and stepped resolutely inside.

Clark bit back his response and flattened himself against the wall as the door closed again, not wanting Kreig to know Lex wasn't alone. If something did go wrong, which after seeing the chilling look in the doctor's face as he picked up the drill, Clark was increasingly of the opinion it would, then it would be better to keep an element of surprise up their sleeve.

"God, I miss Pete," Clark muttered to himself as he moved cautiously towards the window again. "I mean, sure he complained about this stuff, but at least he always did as he was told..."

Inside the lab, Lex was walking easily towards the rather horrific tableaux in the centre of the room, somehow fitting completely into his new surroundings, despite the clash of his black jacket with the room's sterile whiteness.

"Doctor Kreig," he called, making the man turn to look at him in pure astonishment, the drill in his hand apparently forgotten, while Victor looked over Lex uncertainly. "I see you haven't reconsidered your position at all since our last talk. A pity. Perhaps there's still time to convince you otherwise, before I involve the authorities."

Doctor Kreig shook his head, recovering from his surprise.

"As we discussed earlier, Mr. Luthor, you have no evidence to justify police involvement, and my contract guarantees me to another six months of LuthorCorp funding. You're legally obliged to allow my experiments to continue." His lips curved in a thoroughly relished smug grin.

Lex walked unperturbed to the other side of Victor's chair. Resting his hands lightly on the steel arms, he looked at Kreig calmly over the nervous man between them.

"That was before," Lex said, holding Kreig's gaze. "Now, one of your employees is dead, under suspicious circumstances."

"Suicide," Kreig responded. "Unfortunate, of course, but nothing to do with me, or my work."

"Still, reason enough to postpone your project, at least," Lex said. "While I have the matter fully investigated."

"A waste of time," Kreig scoffed. "You won't find anything to incriminate me."

Lex tilted his head a little, apparently in amusement.

"On the contrary, doctor," he said, tone rich with confidence. "It'll give me ample time to talk with the rest of your staff. I'm sure Doctor Hong wasn't the only one less than enthusiastic about your little side project here." Lex waved a hand over Victor, whose expression flitted from fearful distrust, to cautious hope. Kreig looked worried. "Besides," Lex continued. "I think you'll find the word of a Luthor holds quite a lot of weight with the police. And I assure you, it's certainly not going to be on your side."

"But you haven't seen anything," Kreig protested weakly. Lex just smiled.

"Victor," he said suddenly - the man in the chair blinked in surprise. "Did you consent to any of Doctor's Kreig's, modifications?" Lex looked down at the other man, face sombre. Victor narrowed his eyes, as though suspecting a trick, but found nothing in Lex's expression to suggest one.

"No, sir," he replied clearly. "I didn't want any of this. And I've told them that often enough, too."

For a split-second, Lex's expression softened to a sympathetic frown and he nodded, but then his mouth set in a firm line and he looked back to Kreig, his eyes hard.

"Good enough evidence for me," Lex said. "Certainly enough to testify with. As I'm sure these two good people will agree." Lex nodded at the other two blue robed scientists beside the computer, who looked at each other in apprehension. He then took his hands off the chair and stood up straight, staring Kreig down.

Kreig looked defeated, and from his position outside the door, Clark relaxed slightly. It looked like Lex might have succeeded after all. But then Krieg's face darkened and his hand gripped the drill tighter.

"You can only testify if you're alive," he said, flicking a switch with his thumb. The drill began an ominous whirr.

Lex frowned at him, but didn't move, and Clark felt a twinge of sadness that Lex could face down a man a weapon so easily, while the knowledge of Clark's origins had seen him back away in fear.

"What are planning to do, Kreig?" Lex asked. "Kill everyone involved in the project?"

"I don't think that will be necessary," Kreig replied, advancing round Victor's head. "I think, once you're out of the picture, my team will be more than happy to be back under my command."

Lex turned a little uneasy at that - unable to refute the truth behind Kreig's assessment. Without the treat of Luthor involvement, Cyntechnics' scientists wouldn't have any need to leave their well-paid jobs, Lex's implication about their ethics no more than baseless intimidation. Doctor Hong seemed to be the only person to have questioned Kreig's work at all.

"You're crazy," Victor called, struggling vainly against his restraints. "You'll never get away with it."

Lex agreed whole-heartedly with the cyborg's first assessment, but a life more acquainted with murder than he would have liked meant he couldn't be as sure about the second. The game had been fun while it lasted, but it looked like back up was now most certainly required. As Kreig moved closer, Lex was comforted by the knowledge that this time he had security he could rely on. It reminded him of his particularly troublesome first year in Smallville, when he seemed to be threatened or kidnapped at least once a month, but never felt afraid, because he knew that somehow Clark would always get to him in time. Now, though, Clark was no guardian angel swooping in from afar, but a friend working at his side - overall a much more beneficial arrangement, Lex felt.

As Kreig moved to grab Lex with his left hand, Lex spun round unexpectedly and landed a flying kick against the arm holding the drill. He then raised his head to call Clark, but Kreig turned out to be tougher than he'd thought. Only slightly stunned by Lex's kick, Kreig still had enough strength to backhand the other man hard across the face. Lex fell back and hit his head against a workbench behind him, blacking out.

Clark, of course, didn't need to wait for a call, and sped in right away. Not giving Kreig time to react to his presence, Clark threw the man over Victor and into the two other doctors beside the computer. The three of them smashed violently into the equipment, falling unconscious amongst a mess of broken wood and electronics. Clark winced a little; hoping Lex's attachment to the lab equipment hadn't been deep. Uncertain how much more staff was lurking around, or what their reaction would be to Kreig's now unconscious state, Clark started freeing Victor immediately, thinking that getting him out quickly was probably the best course of action. As he broke the various restraints, he x-rayed Lex carefully all over, making sure he was okay.

"Nice tackle," Victor complimented, grinning with relief. Clark gave a breathy laugh in response, more than a little relived himself that the tension of waiting and watching was finally over.

Once Victor was free and slipping on a purple and black top he'd grabbed from the workbench, Clark moved over to Lex and gently lifted him to a sitting position, resting him against one of the bench legs.

"Lex?" he called softly, resting a hand behind the other man's neck so his head didn't roll uncomfortably. Lex moaned quietly, grimacing, eyes still closed.

"Clark," Victor called from the now open doorway. "Someone's coming. If we're gonna get out of here we gotta split, now."

Clark looked up, anxious, and tilted his head. He picked up the sound of at least half a dozen booted feet hurrying down the corridor outside, and a clicking noise of rifles being cocked. He nodded unhappily, acknowledging the sudden urgency.

"Okay," he told Victor. "Just hold on, I'll be right there."

Victor nodded and stepped fully into the corridor to keep a better look out. Turning back to Lex, Clark saw the other man's eyes flicker as he came back to consciousness.

"Lex, I've gotta get Victor out of here," Clark said quickly, keeping his voice low so as not to be too loud for Lex's still foggy senses. "There are men with guns coming, like in the barn."

As Lex's sight came back into focus it was to see Clark's face, inches from his, clouded with worry, obviously torn between helping Victor and staying with his friend. As Lex moved his head to try and dispel some of the lingering grogginess, he felt the softness of Clark's warm palm against his neck and had an irrational urge to make the other man stay, Victor be damned. The sight of broken equipment and unconscious bodies over Clark's shoulder snapped Lex back to reality, and he remembered there were more important issues to deal with right now than the touch of Clark's hand on his skin.

"Clark, go get out of here," he muttered, moving away from Clark's supporting hold and sitting up on his own. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. They won't do anything to me." Fully awake now, Lex held Clark's eye in reassurance.

Clark wasn't entirely satisfied, but a tilt of his head revealed the men were getting nearer. Making a decision, Clark nodded at Lex, squeezing the other man gently on the shoulder, before hurrying to join Victor outside.

Lex watched him leave with a smile playing about his lips. Wondering at the way a man strong enough to bend steel could possibly be so gentle.

In the corridor outside, Clark realised he and Victor were blocked off from the basement entrance, so instead he led Victor up a stairway to the next level.

"Was Luthor okay?" Victor asked as they ran up the steps.

"I think so," Clark nodded over his shoulder.

"When Lana told me LuthorCorp owned Cyntechnics, I thought he was behind all this," Victor admitted. "I guess I was wrong."

"You're not the only one who made that mistake," Clark said ruefully as he opened the door to the ground floor. A few more men in black were now guarding the main entrance. "Damn," Clark muttered. "They must have spread out over the whole building... Come on." He pulled Victor away before the men could see them and headed to the nearest fire exit. Clark slammed the door open and the two of them headed to the roof.

"How you do that back there anyway, Kent? Throw those men like that, break my restraints?" Victor queried as they reached the top.

"I can do a lot of things," Clark shrugged. The two of them paused, looking at the edge of the roof and then at each other. Victor raised his eyebrows, questioning, and Clark nodded back with a grin. They started running. When they reached the edge, both of them jumped clean over it.

When the armed men finally made it to the top of the building, all they found was an empty roof, and an area of cracked concrete four stories below.

The next morning, Clark left Victor in the Kent kitchen eating a hearty breakfast, more for Martha's benefit than anything else, and made his way over to the mansion to check on Lex and find out what had happened to Cyntechnics. He'd wanted to contact his friend again last night, but just hadn't found the time.

Lacking a get away car, and considering Victor was now as close to knowing about Clark's non-human status without actually knowing it, Clark had decided to drop all pretence at normality and sped Victor back to the Kent farm as soon as they were outside the facility's grounds. The black snipers they'd left unconscious there were gone, most likely forming part of the crew who'd chased them out of the lab. In their place, however, was a concerned Martha, who, it turned out, had been closing up at the Talon when Lana brought Victor over. After Victor had given both women the slip in his quest to find Katherine, Martha had agreed to head back to the farm in case either Clark or Victor returned there, while Lana waited at the coffee house. Martha had been fretting ever since her return, more than normal because of Jonathan's absence, and had therefore been overjoyed at the two men's safe arrival. She'd insisted Clark phone Lana and Chloe immediately to update them on the situation, and hadn't been satisfied about Victor's health until she'd checked him over herself and given him a cup of hot cocoa. Her knowledge of bionics was almost non-existent, so really she couldn't be certain if he was healthy or not; but nevertheless, the ritual seemed to pacify her.
The extent of fussing and explaining, though, had made it a good half hour before Clark was able to zip back to Cyntechnics and check on Lex. Once there, he'd been relieved to find the other man safe and well, and talking seriously to a group of policemen, one of whom had Doctor Kreig constrained in a pair of handcuffs. Since Lex seemed to have the situation well in hand and Clark suspected any involvement from him would probably be more hindrance than help, so he'd slipped quietly back to the farm without being seen.

Now, Clark was more than a little curious to discover how Lex had resolved the situation, and eager to apologise, both for leaving his friend behind and for not trusting him about Cyntechnics in the first place. Stepping into Lex's office enthusiastically, Clark was surprised to find his friend wasn't there. And neither was his laptop. Clark looked round, perplexed, for a moment, as if Lex might suddenly materialise if he looked hard enough, and then noticed a neat strip of paper on Lex's desk labelled 'Clark.' He walked over curiously and picked it up. It read:

Clark,

If you're looking for me, I'm downstairs.

L.L

Clark put the note down again with a bemused smile. Downstairs? Turning his gaze to the floor he switched to x-ray to try and determine what Lex meant. He didn't find his friend, but did notice the bottom left hand corner of the basement seemed to be missing. This confused him for a moment, but then he broke into a grin.

Zipping down there, he found the area was apparently walled off. Further x-raying quickly revealed a hidden mechanism, however, and Clark pressed one of the bricks carefully. A section of the wall moved back and slid to the side almost instantly, revealing a metal door with a security lock, which, Clark had to admit, would probably have stumped him, if it hadn't already been open. As Clark stepped through, the wall slid back into place behind him, though the Kryptonian barely registered it, being too distracted by the sight before him.

Stretching out in front of him was one of the most expansive laboratories Clark had ever seen. A side surface covered the entire perimeter, bar the front wall Clark had just come through, and was filled periodically with neat, metallic sinks, expensive looking microscopes and other interestingly shaped equipment Clark couldn't even guess the purpose of. The centre of the room was filled with two long work stations, covered with gas taps, Bunsen burners, racks of test tubes and other elaborately set up glass containers, some of which were filled with different coloured substances, as well as a section towards the back that held an assortment of computers and other electronic devices.

Clark just stood and gaped for a few seconds, mesmerised. Then he blinked in surprise, wondering why he wasn't feeling nervous and intimidated, like he had at Cyntechnics and he usually felt in the labs at 33.1. It was then that he noticed this lab was significantly lacking the usual sterile, white glare. Instead it seemed strangely warm, and faintly, purple? Clark looked at the walls and ceiling more closely and realised they were in fact a light lilac in colour, while the work surfaces turned out to be a rich violet. The floor broke the pattern, remaining the traditional white Clark had come to expect from these places, but it was hardly noticeable within the room's prevailing colour scheme. Even the light seemed vaguely lavender, though Clark was sure he must be imagining that.

A light tutting sound to the right snapped Clark out of his colourful musing and he turned to see Lex standing at the end of the second work bench. The area in front of him had been mostly cleared, containing only Lex's laptop, a hefty brown folder and a metallic hand Clark recognised from Kreig's lab. Lex was prodding its circuitry with a screwdriver, unsuccessfully if his tutting was any indication. Amusingly, he was wearing one of his light purple shirts, along with his usual black trousers and expensive shoes. Clark was relieved not to have found him in a lab coat, not only because it would have been another potential source of intimidation, but because Lex in a lab coat would just have seemed silly.

"All this for recreation?" Clark asked Lex's back, stepping away from the door.

Lex looked up at the sound of Clark's voice, the same smile from last night again touching his lips. He put down his screwdriver carefully, giving himself time to tone down his expression before turning round.

"I play hard, Clark," he responded, eyes glinting. Clark grinned.

"Do you always leave the door open?" he teased.

"No, that was just on the off-chance you might drop by," Lex explained, leaning casually against the surface behind him. "I assumed you'd manage the wall okay, but didn't want to risk breaking the security lock on the door. They're difficult to replace, you know."

Clark raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, so you being down here was intended to test my ingenuity, huh?" he said. "Did I pass?"

Lex looked away, smiling.

"How's Victor?" he asked evasively, as he looked back. Clark acknowledged Lex's avoidance with a light shake of his head, moving to the other's man's right and leaning against the work station himself.

"He's doing okay," Clark replied. "Mom's filling him up with eggs and bacon as we speak, although considering the literal mechanics of his body I'm not sure how good that is for him exactly." Clark frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "In any case he's not complaining, he's just glad to be out of the lab again." Clark expression clouded. "I'm sorry I had to leave you," he added.

Lex tried not to let Clark's sincerity affect him too deeply. And failed. It felt like he was twenty-one again, eager for any show of affection from his beautiful saviour, and he hoped Clark wasn't looking at how fast his heart had started beating just by having the other man in the room with him. This room, which no one else had ever been in since he'd first had it built.

"It was for the best," Lex assured his friend, a lot more controlled than he felt. "Your presence would have complicated matters, and the last thing I wanted was for you to get into trouble."

Clark's eyes brightened, and Lex felt a rush of joy that he had the power to do that again, as opposed to filling Clark's gaze with anger and distrust. That had so often been the case this year, before Lana's accident and Clark's revelation, and yesterday's clash had left Lex honestly believing their friendship was once again on a downward spiral. He'd never been so happy to be wrong.

"So what's happened with Cyntechnics and Doctor Kreig?" Clark asked.

"Doctor Kreig's facing a jail sentence for attempted murder and unlawful experimentation, and Cyntechnics is officially shut down," Lex related, and Clark gave a smile of relief. "If he'd managed to actually kill me," Lex continued. "I suspect Kreig's faith in his employees' loyalty would have proved true. As it is, no one wants to support a failed murderer." Lex smirked. "In the end, there was enough testimony against the doctor from the other scientists and the snipers to make mine redundant, and to make security footage of the evening basically unnecessary. Which was fortunate for the police considering a fault in the system managed to wipe all of yesterday's recordings before they arrived."

Clark blinked in surprise and instant gratitude. In the rush of breaking Victor out and keeping him safe, he'd forgotten about the surveillance footage of himself at the facility.

"Thanks," Clark said warmly. Lex shrugged, uncharacteristically modest.

"Well, if it hadn't been for me you'd probably have been in and out of the facility without even being caught on camera," he said, looking away.

"Maybe," Clark nodded. "But that wouldn't have stopped Kreig, or the project. Meaning Victor would still be being hunted down right now. You've done a lot more to help him than I have, Lex." Clark looked at the other man earnestly for a second and then lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you sooner," he said, voice turning quiet.

Lex blinked back at him, curious. Clark's display of trust last night had been apology enough for him, and learning Clark was still worried about the issue troubled Lex slightly. Gratifying as it was to see Clark so contrite, Lex didn't want the other man's fears of inadequacy to lead to any falsely assumed hero-worship. Lex had already made that mistake with Clark, almost to both their costs. What they needed now was a level playing field, not a role reversal.

"I don't really blame you for doubting me, Clark," Lex admitted gently. "To be honest, if the circumstances had been different, if I hadn't learnt the truth about you when I did, I think maybe your suspicions might have been well founded."

Clark looked up, eyes suddenly clouded.

"You think you'd have supported the project? Started making soldiers after all?" he asked.

"Maybe," Lex replied honestly. "If I thought I had to." Lex let Clark's eyes lock on to his, wondering if this was going to revert them back to their cycle of condemnation, but while Clark's gaze was deep, it wasn't critical.

"You don't have to," he stated, serious. "And you won't have to. The ends don't always justify the means, Lex."

Lex cocked his head; both surprised and pleased by the ardour of the statement, since it proved Clark hadn't lost his ability to challenge him when he felt it was necessary.

"No," Lex conceded with a small smile. "No, I guess they don't." Clark's eyes cleared and he smiled back, looking strangely satisfied.

"It is a shame about Cyntechnics though," Lex continued, more nonchalantly, moving round to look at the robotic hand on the desk behind them. "The advances they'd made in bionics, irrespective of the Machina project, are really quite astounding." He tapped the metallic limb thoughtfully with his right hand. "Maybe if I can get hold of enough of the right people, I could continue the research..."

Clark shifted against the work bench so he was leaning on his side, smiling at his friend affectionately. Talking through issues with Lex always felt more satisfying than with anyone else.

"Would that mean building more cyborgs?" he asked, curious now as he remembered the obvious fascination with the subject Lex had shown last night.

Lex nodded.

"If that's what people want," he replied. "Although, only if that's what they want." He amended.

Clark nodded, though his nose crinkled in distaste.

"I still don't get why anyone would want to do that to themselves," he said.

"Why not?" Lex challenged with a half-smile, deep blue eyes darkening with interest.

"It just..." Clark shrugged. "It'd make you less human."

Lex laughed, fully at ease again.

"Coming from you, that argument seems particularly ridiculous," he grinned.

Clark frowned for a second, and then blushed, lips curving back into half of a grin. It was both strange and pleasant the way Lex could tease him about being an alien. With Pete and Chloe, and now Lana, the issue was viewed, for the most part, with the utmost seriousness. It was nice, how Lex could so easily make light of the matter, it made Clark feel less of a freak.

"You know what I mean," he muttered.

Lex nodded, composing himself so he was more suited for a serious debate, although his eyes still shone happily.

"I know," Lex said. "It's a common form of opposition to advanced technology, but really it doesn't wash. I mean, are people with pacemakers, or artificial limbs any less human?"

"That's slightly different to a full body work over, Lex," Clark protested.

"You mean, like Victor has?" Lex asked, raising his eyebrows. "Does that make him not human?"

Clark paused. He'd never thought to consider Victor as anything but a guy whose body had been altered without his consent, but when Lex put it that way, what was to say Victor's mind was even his own anymore... but then Clark remembered the guy's obvious love for Katherine and his concern for his friend Doctor Hong.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Victor's human. Definitely." His brow furrowed pensively. "But surely there's got to be a point when you end up going too far? I mean, if all of you was mechanical, there wouldn't really be any 'you' left, would there?" He looked up expectantly, but Lex just smiled and shrugged.

"I don't know, Clark," he admitted. "Science hasn't got that far, we'd need to do more tests. And even then, we'd probably never be certain. The self is a difficult concept to define. I'd like to think there's part of us that exists regardless of our physical forms though." Lex looked a little sheepish suddenly. "You can put that down to my romantic side, just don't tell anyone, I try to keep it hidden."

Clark smiled.

"Your secret's safe with me," he assured. "Just as long as you don't recruit me for this project, I'd like to keep my body the way it is thanks. Nice and organic."

Lex let his eyes flicker over Clark for a second; he certainly had no desire to change that body in any way either.

"No problem," he said, a little more forcefully than necessary. Fortunately, Clark was his usual oblivious self and just grinned, but Lex realised he was letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a lack of control he hadn't allowed for some time, so he immediately stood up straighter in an attempt to reign himself in, grip on the mechanical hand tightening. He almost jumped out of his skin when the metallic fingers twisted round his in response.

"Woa," he muttered, whipping his hand away quickly. Clark started to laugh.

"Good to see you have all your experiments under control," he teased.

Lex glared at him, trying to regain some dignity, but it was completely ineffective in the face of Clark's mirth. Falling back on the traditional 'if you can't beat them, join them' philosophy, Lex rolled his eyes and gave a small smile in defeat.

"What are trying to do with that thing anyway?" Clark asked once his laughter had died down.

"I'm trying to figure out how all the parts work together, but I'm not having much success," Lex explained with a sigh. "I even tried reversing the polarity of the neutron flow, but it didn't seem to have any effect. The trouble is, the mechanics are incredibly complex, more than anything I'm used to, and unfortunately, Doctor Kreig destroyed a lot of his research after our phone call yesterday. It turned out he wasn't as confident about there being no evidence for the authorities as he seemed... that reminds me," Lex added, reaching over to pick up the brown folder. "This is all the information I was able to find on the Machina project. Thanks to Kreig, certain details are missing, but a lot of the specifics on Victor were backed up on a hard drive hidden in Doctor Hong's apartment. Victor will probably need this if he wants to know how to look after himself properly." He handed the folder to Clark.

Moving away from the desk, Clark took it with a nod. "Thanks, Lex."

"Of course, it would probably be a lot easier and safer for him at 33.1..." Lex suggested, quietly hopeful. Clark's smile held a touch of apology.

"I know," he nodded. "But I really don't think Victor would be interested. He's had enough of labs and institutions. I think it's best if we just let him live his own life now."

Lex nodded, a little disappointed.

"I thought as much," he admitted. "He's a lucky guy, getting a second chance like that."

"I'd hardly call losing all of your family and becoming a walking science project 'lucky,' Lex," Clark responded.

"Do you really think he'd have been better off if he'd died with them?" Lex argued.

Clark sighed. Lex had a point. Victor might be grieving now, but at least he was alive. And where there's life, there's hope, as his dad was so fond of quoting.

"I don't know," Clark admitted, it seemed to be becoming his mantra. "Do you really think he's better off this way?"

"I think," Lex said seriously. "That sometimes miracles come with a price. But that needn't make them any less profound."

Clark tapped his fingers unconsciously against the folder. Thinking of the trouble he'd caused his parents and friends over the years, and yet his mother had always called him a miracle. There really aren't any easy answers anymore, are there?

"What about you, anyway, Clark?" Lex asked, leaning back against the work station, a little too tense to be casual. "Have you had enough of labs and institutions too?"

Clark lifted his eyes from the folder to meet Lex's.

"Well, that depends," he said, face sombre. Lex waited quietly and after a moment Clark's lips spread into a slow grin. "On if my lab partner's given up on me or not," he continued. "I wouldn't blame him, if he had. I can get kind of, erratic, sometimes."

Lex relaxed into a matching smile.

"I think your 'lab partner' knows how to cope with that by now," he replied. Clark's eyes sparkled at him delightfully for a second, and for the first time in what felt like years, Lex's future suddenly looked bright. Then Clark moved to lean against the work bench again, turning his head to look round the room.

"I guess I'll be seeing more of this place from now on then," he said, still sounding nervous, but now his voice was also held a hint of excitement.

"I can't believe you never discovered it before now," Lex said.

"Oh, I figured that out before I came down," Clark replied, turning to face the other man. "You've got the whole place lined with lead."

Lex looked confused.

"Yes," he agreed. "Along with cement, ceramic tiles and expanded polystyrene. It helps prevent any radiation that might be released from escaping and also keeps the room soundproof. I don't expect many people to be listening in on me, as out of the way as this place is, but you can't be too sure. How is the lead significant?"

"I can't see through lead," Clark explained with a shrug.

"Huh..." Lex muttered, his eyes narrowing. "So, it blocks the effects of debris from your home planet, and also you?"

"Only my x-ray," Clark clarified. "It's not like I'm strong enough to lift everything but lead or anything, and I can melt it just like other metal."

"Really?" Lex said, looking at Clark quizzically. Clark noticed his expression with a smile.

"I guess you don't know about that one yet," he grinned.

"No, actually I've got that one," Lex replied, trying to sound uninterested. "Lana told me the others had the ability to form some kind of heat ray, presumably you can do something similar."

Clark gave Lex a curious side-long glance, reading his disinterest like a challenge.

"That's right," he nodded, eyes brightening with mischief. "Wanna see?"

Lex turned to look over Clark's expression carefully, as though this was a test and he could somehow find the right answer there. In the end he just shrugged lightly, trying to maintain his air of indifference. Apparently this was enough for Clark, who started to move round to one of the sinks in the surface to the right, hands searching quickly through his pockets. Lex turned round and folded his arms across the work desk, trying not to look too curious as he watched the other man.

Now at the sink, Clark seemed to have found what he'd been looking for in an empty chocolate bar wrapper. Checking briefly to see Lex was looking, he held the wrapper over the sink and stared at it intently. Lex had a pretty good idea what was going to happen, but still started in wonder as the wrapper burst into flames, quickly disintegrating in Clark's hand, which remained unharmed by the heat. Once the flames faded, Clark dropped what was left of the wrapper in the sink and washed it away. Turning back to Lex, he spread his hands like a magician awaiting applause.

"From your eyes?" Lex asked, leaning a little further across the desk. He then cursed himself inwardly for showing his excitement.

"Yup," Clark nodded, grin wide and infuriating. Lex stared at Clark's satisfied face in silence for a moment, then snapped.

"Okay, that's it," he exclaimed, unfolding his arms and putting his palms face down in front of him. "You're telling me everything else, right now. My patience only stretches so far, and it has definitely reached it limit."

Clark laughed, moving over to fold his own arms across the desk, opposite Lex.

"I was wondering when you'd crack," he smiled. "I expected you to have asked a lot more questions by now."

"I was worried you might yell at me and disappear if I tried," Lex replied frankly. "You have been known to, in the past."

Clark nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I know," he acknowledged. "But not this time. Ask away."

"What else can you do?" Lex asked immediately.

"To be honest, you pretty much know everything now," Clark started.

"Pretty much everything, is not the same as everything, Clark," Lex persisted, impatient.

"Okay, okay," Clark replied, holding up a hand to pacify his friend. "I also hear pretty well."

Lex raised his eyebrows.

"Exactly how well is 'pretty well'?" he questioned.

"Well," Clark shrugged, lowering his hand. "I haven't exactly measured it, but there's a tap dripping in the sink at the back there, which I guessing you haven't noticed. It's kind of annoying, actually."

Lex looked at Clark curiously and then cocked his head. As Clark had assumed, Lex heard nothing. He opened his mouth to question Clark further, but then changed his mind, moving away from the desk abruptly and heading over to the back of the lab instead. Clark stayed where he was and watched in amusement as Lex headed towards the sink in the far left hand corner of the room. This is way more fun than it was telling anyone else.

Over at the sink, Lex shook his head in astonishment as he leaned over to twist the offending tap tighter.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. "And that's from almost fifty meters away..."

"Actually, I hear things from a lot further than that," Clark amended, appearing at Lex's side with a gentle breeze. Lex blinked a little, but didn't start, Clark's speed he was already getting the hang of. "This was just the easiest thing to prove."

Lex nodded, just plain smiling now.

"What else?" he asked, stepping back to look Clark over thoughtfully, trying to guess what other abilities the alien could be hiding.

"I can jump really high too," Clark smiled. "But that's it."

"How high?" Lex queried.

Clark shrugged.

"From the Daily Planet to the LuthorCorp building at least," he suggested.

Lex shook his head again, letting out a small laugh.

"Are you sure you can't fly too?" he joked. To his surprise, Clark grimaced.

"Hmmm..." Clark muttered. "Actually, the jury's kinda still out on that."

Lex, stunned into speechlessness, just gaped in response.

The two men could probably have stayed in Lex's lab for hours, talking things over together, but Lex had some LuthorCorp business to take care of before lunch and Clark did have to get back to Victor, so after fixing a time to meet up again the next afternoon, they both parted ways.

Clark had been as reluctant as Lex to cut their time together short, since talking about himself with Lex was proving more liberating than Clark ever imagined, certainly more so than with anyone else. Telling Lex the truth had been an impassioned attempt to get his friend back, at a time when Clark felt everything around him was falling apart. He'd had no idea quite how grounding it would end up being, how Lex's curiosity and desire to understand would actually make Clark feel more at ease with himself than before. Because with Lex, Clark was less of a fragile, wondrous, otherworldly being, that must be protected, and more of an actual person, someone tangible, different, but equal.

If only Lana could see him like that, instead of stepping back and giving him superiority, Clark thought. :: How many times have you been there, saving me, when I didn't even know it? :: she'd asked him after learning the truth. No complaints about the past, no repercussions, just instant awe, as though being an alien suddenly made Clark perfect. Clark had always feared if Lana knew the truth about him it would put a barrier between them, that she'd no longer see him for himself. And while Lana's newfound adoration wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting, it seemed to be becoming equally obstructing. What was it Lex had said? Clark was just close enough to perfect to make people think 'maybe'? It was funny how his alien abilities seemed to create this false impression on everyone else, whereas with Lex, learning the truth seemed to have given him a real understanding of Clark for the first time.

Clark was still smiling at the look on Lex's face after he'd related his one time flying excursion as Kal-El as he walked into the Kent barn, finding Victor resting on an upturned crate and flexing his right arm experimentally. Clark deposited his red jacket, which he'd been carrying over his shoulder, on a near-by bench, and moved closer to his new friend, holding the folder on the Machina project carefully in his left hand.

"Is everything working alright?" Clark asked. Victor looked up, registering his presence with a smile.

"I feel like a billion dollars," he responded. "Which probably isn't that far off..." he added with a frown. "Is Luthor really just gonna let that much of his money walk off into the sunset?"

Clark smiled down at him, reassuring.

"Well, he'd like it better if you didn't," Clark admitted. "But I told him it was probably better for everybody if LuthorCorp stayed out of your life from now on. Here," Clark held out the folder. "It's all the information about what Cyntechnics did to you. It might be helpful, if you're wanting to start a new life."

Victor took the folder with warm grin, standing up in front of Clark. As he caught the other man's eye, he looked away a little embarrassed.

"I'd, ah, say thank you," he said. "But the words just seem too small."

"And completely unnecessary," Clark smiled back.

Victor gave a small laugh.

"Your mom raised you modest, didn't she?" The two men shared a companionable silence for a moment and then Victor's gaze sobered. "You're a hero, Kent," he stated earnestly. "And I'm not gonna forget how much I owe you."

Shifting the folder to his left hand, he raised his right in a gesture of friendship. Clark grabbed it instinctively, though he was slightly concerned at being thought a hero. In fact, all things considered, Victor had probably been the more heroic of them both during this ordeal. Clark didn't think he'd be able to cope with what the other man had endured so easily.

"You just help someone else out when they're in need and we'll call it even," Clark requested. "You're just as much a hero as I am."

The sound of footsteps interrupted them and they looked to the other side of the barn curiously. Lana entered confidently through the opposite entrance, a pretty but nervous dark-skinned woman following her. Clark was confused for a second, then smiled, recognising the woman from Victor's photo and realising what Lana had done.

Victor walked over slowly, uncertain at what he was seeing, but then the girl stepped into the light and the two of them locked on to each other.

"Katherine," Victor whispered, breaking the spell. And then the two of them were running gratefully into each other's arms, Victor's folder left carelessly on the crate behind him.

Lana and Clark kept a respectful distance at their opposite ends of the barn, Clark smiling at the lovers' embrace, but with eyes sadly dimmed.

After a second Katherine pulled softly away, feeling Victor's shoulders and arms, a confused expression on her face.

"Victor?" she questioned, looking up at him in concern. "What happened? What did those men do to you?"

Victor looked away, tensing.

"It's a long story," he said. Katherine looked at him anxiously for a moment, then lay a gentle hand on his cheek, pulling his face forwards her again.

"We got time," she nodded, smiling. Slowly, Victor smiled back, and Katherine pulled him close, holding him tight.

Behind them, Lana broke into a sunny grin at the exchange, but then her eyes caught Clark's and they too dimmed. The two of them stared at each other over the happy couple and the distance between them seemed incredibly vast.

Outside, Jonathan Kent pulled his truck slowly in front of the farmhouse, looking at the cheerful front door with a heavy heart. He'd spent a fretful night in a Metropolis hotel, simply unable to face Clark and Martha with the truth about the blackmailer, but now he couldn't wait any longer. For all he knew the man was already talking to the press, Clark and Martha needed to prepare themselves. Jonathan gripped the steering wheel of the truck tightly for a second, steeling himself, and then jumped out quickly and walked through the side door into the kitchen. Where he stopped dead.

In front of him, Martha and Lionel Luthor were sat at the dinning table, sharing companionable laughter.

"You did not say that," Martha was protesting, shaking her head so her long, auburn locks bouncing attractively round her face.

"I did, cross my heart," Lionel smiled back. "A little shameless perhaps, but the man certainly never bothered the company afterwards."

Jonathan glared at Lionel over Martha's head, both angry and terrified that the man should be here, in his home, at such a delicate time. He didn't know what the other man was up to, but knew it couldn't be good. Looking up, Lionel caught his eye.

"Ah, Senator, there you are," he called, jovially, for all the world as if the two of them were bosom friends.

Martha twisted round in her chair. "Jonathan," she smiled, though her eyes seemed curious. "Lionel just got here about twenty minutes ago. He's been explaining the business you two were involved in yesterday, and how it made you miss your flight." Her tone was light, but she raised her eyebrows questioningly, obviously confused and rather concerned about whatever Lionel had told her. It was a relief to Jonathan to know the companionable scene he'd walked in on wasn't as friendly as it seemed.

"Has he?" Jonathan asked cautiously, trying to determine what game Lionel might be playing now without worrying Martha about it. She'd have worries enough in time, he recalled painfully.

"Oh, I didn't bore her with the details, of course," Lionel replied with a small smile, apparently in reassurance, but to Jonathan it looked more like a challenge. "I simply explained about our mutual support against that troublesome third party, whose continued conduct would no doubt have been detrimental to both of us." Jonathan narrowed his eyes, body tensing, and Lionel raised an eyebrow, apparently pleased with the response. "I have the relevant information, as I promised," Lionel continued, pulling a CD smoothly out of his jacket pocket. It didn't take much for Jonathan to figure out what disc must contain. "There shouldn't be any more problems there."

"I see," Jonathan muttered, eyeing the CD darkly. So Lionel had taken care of the blackmailer after all. Jonathan had to admit, as angry as he was that the man had gone against his wishes, it did take a load off his mind, and prevented the need to worry Martha - which was, of course, what Lionel was banking on to keep Jonathan's silence.

"Oh, Jonathan, I wished you'd called me to let me know what you were doing," Martha said now, a little exasperated. "To think you spent the whole night, on your own in Metropolis. I mean, I know it was for the best, this business the two of you were taking care of lasting so late and everything, but I could have had a nice breakfast ready for you here if I'd only known... What was this third party you were both approaching anyway?"

Martha looked up at him, eyes wide with curiosity, face open and carefree, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach Jonathan realised Lionel had him. He couldn't trouble that beautiful face, any more than he could have submitted to the blackmailer's demands last night, not if he didn't have to. His eyes flicked over to Lionel, who was watching him intently, his own eyes oddly pleading, as if he too wished to keep Martha's blissful ignorance in tact. The idea did little to raise Jonathan's opinion of the other man, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Oh, it was nothing important," he lied; forcing his face into a smile he didn't feel.

"Exactly," Lionel added, waving the hand holding the disc in dismissal. "Just a small, upstart of a company. An annoyance to LuthorCorp and potentially a threat to society should its policies have been allowed to continue, it's good that the two of us were able to have it shut down when we did."

"Oh," Martha nodded, still looking a little confused, but a nod from Jonathan was enough to convince her that everything must be okay. "Well, I'm glad the two of you were able to do something positive together," she smiled.

"I'm just sorry the business has made Jonathan miss his conference," Lionel continued, his manner light again. "Which is actually why I'm here. The conference does last the whole day I believe? And I'm more than willing to have a LuthorCorp jet ready to take you to Topeka immediately. That way, you should be able to catch the end."

"That's, very generous of you Lionel," Jonathan began, pursing his lips.

"Well then, it's settled," Lionel interrupted, standing up and taking out his cell phone. "I'll have my people send it down straight away. And remember, if you ever need anything else, I'm never far away." Lionel smiled widely at the two of them, before pressing a button on his phone. Turning his back on the couple, he started to give quiet instructions through the speaker.

"Now, Jonathan," Martha said, getting up and leading her husband to the table. "You should sit down and let me fix you something to eat before you leave. I've already used up the bacon, but I know we still have plenty of eggs..."

Jonathan accepted Martha's administrations without protest, face anxious as he watched Lionel pace round the kitchen. The other man might have sounded friendly, but Jonathan read the veiled threat behind his words, and he didn't like it. Neither did he like the way Lionel had carefully slipped the blackmailer's disc back into his jacket pocket. It was far too much to hope that this jet ride would be the end of their 'mutual support' either. It seems I've traded one blackmailer for another, Jonathan thought darkly, suspecting, all things considered, that Lionel could well prove the worst of the two.

Up in the loft of the barn, Clark was looking over his old Smallville Crows memorabilia fondly. Victor and Katherine were gone now, off to try and work out a new life together, and while Clark had wished them both the best, shaking Victor's hand and kissing Katherine gently on the cheek before Lana had driven them back to Katherine's apartment, inside he felt a deep concern for the both of them. He knew how hard it was maintaining a relationship when you were as different as he and Victor were, it wasn't going to be easy for them, and there was no guarantee they were going to make it.

Clark picked up his old football shirt with a sigh. There were no guarantees about anything any more, and the simplicity of high school life seemed light-years away.

"I haven't seen that in a while," Lana smiled, as she came up the stairs.

Clark turned and smiled lightly at her - he'd heard her car pull up a few minutes ago, along with her uneasy pacing outside the barn entrance. There was something on her mind, which meant this would probably end up as one of those deep, heartfelt conversations that always left him exhausted. Best to enjoy the light moments while he could.

"I guess Victor kinda reminded me of the glory days," he grinned.

Lana nodded.

"Why'd you quit football anyway?" she asked, curious. "You always seemed so at peace on that field. Like everything that was weighing you down just evaporated."

Clark looked away, hiding old sorrow behind the act of putting the shirt down.

"I kinda had to. Super powers give you a rather unfair advantage," he muttered.

"Oh, of course," Lana responded softly. She gave Clark a small, pitying smile. "Clark, I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Clark shrugged. Lana was right; he'd always loved playing football, not just because it was a 'normal' high school activity, but because he'd really enjoyed the game. Giving it up had been hard, and thinking about it still stung, Clark couldn't help it. But he didn't want to be pitied for it either.

"It's just a game," he told Lana as he turned back, trying to sound like he believed it. It was the wrong answer apparently, because Lana's smiled faded and her eyes turned hard.

"Clark, why do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

Clark tried a bemused grin, trying vainly to make things light again. "Do what?"

"Hide what you're really feeling," Lana stated, unmoved by Clark's attempt.

Clark sighed, but didn't reply. Because you wouldn't understand definitely wasn't the thing to say right now.

Lana's brow furrowed unhappily, enflaming the red cut on her forehead. She moved over to where Clark was standing.

"Clark, you know how much I love you," her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But seeing Victor and Katherine today, how passionate they were together. It made me wonder if we haven't lost something lately."

"Are you saying you're having second thoughts, about the wedding?" Clark asked, worried.

Lana shook her head, though the anxiety in her expression didn't clear.

"No, of course not. I want to marry you more than anything, you know that," she insisted. "It's just, since you proposed, there's been this, distance, between us, and I've been worried that..." she looked down briefly, clasping her hands together. "Do you still love me, Clark?" She looked up at him, pleading.

"I've always loved you," Clark replied instantly, rather surprised. "And I always will." That's never been in question, has it?

Lana nodded and attempted a small smile, twisting her engagement ring unconsciously.

"Maybe I'm just being silly," she muttered, with a shrug. "It's probably just the stress of trying to get all our college work done while planning the wedding. I mean, with all that to do, not to mention crazy stuff like kryptonite ghosts and Victor, it's not surprising we haven't had any proper time together, right?"

Clark nodded; it seemed a good enough excuse.

"Don't worry, Lana," he assured her, resting his fingers lightly on her shoulder. "Once the wedding's sorted, everything will be alright."

Lana nodded back.

"Well, I, ah, better get back to that college work then," she said, a little too brightly, as she stepped away. "Stop it being such a load on my mind. Maybe we can, get together afterwards?"

"Sure. Absolutely," Clark promised, watching as Lana gave him one last brief smile before hurrying away down the stairs.

Things would be better, he assured himself, when they met up later, when neither of them had work to do, when the wedding arrangements were over, when they were finally married. Turning to pack his high school things away, Clark tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that things were supposed to have been better once Lana knew the truth as well.

——end credits——