Lex leaned back in his chair watching the fight on a bank of television screens along one wall of his office. He had the news report on as well as views from some of his personal surveillance cameras hidden around the city. Right now, he had a perfect view as the combatants were battling it out on the roof of the MetroBank building, a building Lex happened to own. A news helicopter circled the building and the security cameras gave Lex a direct feed.

He shifted his weight in his chair and leaned one elbow on the surface of his desk. Was that blood?

This threat was not of his making, and in fact, no one was sure where this particular threat had originated. It was perhaps from off-planet. Regardless, Superman had gone out to meet it head on as he usually did. This time, Lex thought as he noted the blood streaming from Superman's nose, he may have met his match. The creature wasn't organic, it was some sort of machine. Deceptively fast for something so massive, it looked and behaved like a giant spider or scorpion, with multiple clawed limbs and a whip-like tail. Superman had learned about the tail almost immediately when the thing had slammed him into the side of a building.

If Superman could get hold of the thing, he might be able to defeat it. The small body was it's vulnerable point, but the body was also at the center of its thrashing limbs and as fast as Superman moved, the creature seemed to always be one step ahead of him. It had only been a matter of time, Lex thought, steepling his fingers and placing them against his lips, that something came from off planet that could match the alien hero. Of course, Superman always prevailed. Lex didn't think this situation would be any different; harder perhaps, but Superman would win.

Superman backed off, panting, wiping his nose with the back of one sleeve as he clutched at his side with the other hand. He seemed to be assessing the situation. Many people assumed Superman was all brawn and no brain, a dangerous assumption to make. Lex knew he wasn't stupid at all. If he couldn't defeat this monster by beating the shit out of it, he'd do it some other way. The cameras picked up his wince as he moved back a little more. Lex could hear him wheezing.

"Broken rib," he murmured, watching the blue clad body carefully, hissing a little in sympathy as Superman winced.

The robotic scorpion lashed its tail and advanced. It was eerily silent save for whatever alien gyros powered its limbs. A red winking light flashed at its belly. Superman went after it with heat vision.

The shining metallic surface, as bright as chrome, shot the beam back at him. Superman dove out of the way as his own attack backfired and a satellite disk behind him exploded. The creature lost no time in counter attacking. One long limb lashed out at the small humanoid figure and Superman was punted across the roof as if he were a football. He tumbled, rolling in mid-air before hitting the tar papered roof and slamming into the low wall along the roof's edge. Crashing through it, he became airborne nearly thirty floors from the city street. A camera caught his fall and Lex was rather surprised to see it took him a while to catch himself.

Not good.

Superman flew back up to the top of the bank building and beyond. Lex could see him scowling down at the mechanical menace and knew what he was thinking. Perhaps, like a spider, he could drop something on it. Unfortunately, he would crush the entire building in the process, not to mention the fact that nothing he'd thrown at it thus far was proving effective. Strength failed, speed failed, heat vision failed, and even an attempt to freeze the thing failed. If he, an alien being, couldn't defeat the creature, certainly nothing on Earth could.

The creature lashed out at the helicopter buzzing overhead. The pilot took evasive maneuvers and then sidled out of reach while his passengers, newsmen from a local television station, continued to film. Superman hesitated, then dove straight at the monster as fast as he could go, faster than the cameras could follow.

He landed on its back, his hands grappling for a hold on the slick carapace. Hanging on like a tick, he avoided the flailing arms and lashing tail, swiftly moving aside as the creature struck at him. Every time it struck and Superman was not in the way, it hit itself with a metallic clang. The camera zoomed in as one leg whipped back and hit Superman again in the side when he failed to move fast enough. He grimaced in pain, nearly losing his grip, but what the camera also showed was the dents appearing in the body of the robot. It started to move slightly slower. As if sensing its own doom it also started bucking and weaving, trying to shake the man clinging to its back. Superman crawled around to its underside just as it struck itself hard with the spiked end of its tail.

Sparks flew as the metal shell was cracked. A hideous metallic scream rose up from the creature along with a plume of black smoke. Lex sat back in his chair, smiling. Superman had done it again. His audio reception caught the sound of a cheering crowd as they watched the film somewhere on the streets below.

The red winking light pulsed once. That was all it took. It struck Superman in the chest and dislodged him, forcing him to the surface of the roof where he lay momentarily stunned. Above him, the scorpion-thing wavered on legs suddenly too weak to hold itself up, and it continued to scream as flames shot up from the hole in its back. Whether it knew what was happening to it on some sort of conscious level, or if there was something in its programming that lent to it, the world would never know, but it made one last strike against its enemy.

High above its body, flashing in the bright noonday sun, its tail rose to its full length. Then, with the speed of a lightning strike, the tail lashed downward, past the dying body toward its adversary. Superman saw it coming and scrambled backwards, but the trajectory changed swiftly to match his movements. Lex stood up, his eyes widening.

"No!"

The spike drove deep, through flesh and bone, down into the concrete and steel of the bank building's roof. Lex caught a glimpse of Superman's shocked expression and heard the scream before the view was obliterated by the creature exploding.

"You shouldn't be here, Lex." Pete met him at the door to the stairwell. His assistant's dark skin looked ashy pale. His suit was smeared with a greasy, oil-like substance and a bandage was wrapped around one hand where he'd cut himself on a shard of metal. "It's not safe."

"Shut-up," Lex growled.

Pete was used to Lex's temper, and ignored him. "The buildings structure has been damaged. It may not be sound...."

"Have they found him?"

Dark brown eyes met blue. Pete's voice grew soft. "Not yet, there is a lot of debris."

Lex stalked over to where groups of firemen were struggling with chunks of burnt and twisted metal. A familiar black-clad figure stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest as he supervised the rescue. What little Lex could see of his expression beneath the mask seemed indifferent, but Lex knew better. Batman was just as worried as he was, and just as unlikely to let anyone know it. When he saw Lex approaching, he scowled, but nodded a greeting.

"Did you see it?" Lex asked.

A nod. "They replayed the tape for me."

He wanted to ask if Batman thought Superman lived, but was rather afraid of the answer. "Does anyone know where this thing came from?"

"Ironically, yes," Batman growled. "It was the prototype for some sort of orbital defense program, with a newly developed armor constructed of a variety of unconventional metals. The ore was harvested from space." His jaw clenched.

"You mean this son of a bitch was from Earth?"

"Yes. But again, the ore used to forge its metal armor was from extra-terrestrial sources. I had some of it analyzed already. The percentage is very small, but one element was Kryptonite."

Lex groaned.

Batman turned and looked at him with a steady glare. "One of your ex-employees developed it, Luthor."

"I had no idea...."

"Save it," Batman hissed. His gaze did not waver. "He's probably dead."

Swallowing heavily, Lex nodded. "And if he isn't?"

"Not far from it."

"He's got blood stored somewhere."

"I'm aware of that, and I have some of the best medical professionals in the world on stand-by." Batman raised his chin slightly. "His welfare is no longer your responsibility, Lex."

Lex lowered his voice, speaking softly so that no one could possibly overhear. "I still care, Bruce. I'm not the cold-hearted bastard you and that Lane bitch make me out to be. Clark and I reached a truce a long time ago. If he doesn't hold anything against me, neither should you."

"I hold a lot against you, Lex Luthor, and very little of it has anything to do with Clark," Batman sniffed derisively, and started to move away.

"Here!" someone shouted. "He's here!"

There was a flurry of activity from some yards away as everyone dropped what they were doing to attend to a large chunk of twisted metal. Lex and Batman joined in to shove the piece aside, revealing a soot covered body lying sprawled beneath it. A two foot long piece from the end of the monster's tail still protruded from his stomach, still pinned him to the roof, and a dark stain spread from the point of impact, turning the blue cloth black. Blood still trickled from his nose and mouth, too. His face was badly bruised beneath the smears of oil and soot.

The lead paramedic knelt, searching for a pulse. He looked up at the men and women surrounding him and nodded. "We have to be careful. When we pull out that spike he's going to lose a lot more blood."

Lex lowered himself to his knees beside the EMT, brushing Clark's hair back from his face. He was wearing it long these days. It gave him sort of a medieval look, like a warrior knight of old.

"We'll be airlifting him to Gotham," Batman rumbled.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" The EMT looked up at the cowled figure. "Metropolis General is less than a minute away by air. He might not survive a trip to Gotham."

"I want him taken to Gotham."

Lex surged back to his feet, infuriated. "Do you want him to live, or not? Take him to Metropolis General, damnit. Have your specialists brought here."

Batman's expression was cold.

"You aren't taking him." Lex growled. "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

"Why, you...."

"Hey!" Pete stepped between them, giving them both a hard look. "Metropolis General. We're taking him to Metropolis General." He nodded at Batman. "We can send for whatever you need from Gotham now, and by the time we get him freed and to the hospital it should be here. The Lex Corp. 'copter can make the run to Gotham and back in less than an hour." His voice lowered. "Who's more important here, Superman, or your egos?"

Lex smirked a little. He nodded to Pete. "You make the arrangements, since our bat buddy here seems reluctant to cooperate with me. I want those so called "experts" here in under and hour."

He turned on his heel, joining the rescue workers at Clark's side again. They were busy discussing the best way to extricate the metal spike and it didn't seem like they were making any progress. It was, someone said, buried at least six inches into the concrete, and nothing they had could cut through it. Presumably the people behind the construction of the machine had a cutting device, but tracking down that party was going to take time. According to the EMT, Superman didn't have any time left.

As they discussed this, and Pete got Batman on the phone to Gotham, Lex knelt beside Clark's head again. They'd wiped some of the filth from his face but he was still dirty. Lex peered into the med kit and found some wipes and continued the clean up of Clark's face. His skin beneath the dirt and dried blood was deathly pale.

He had hardly begun when Clark gave a gasp and his right arm jerked upward to grab Lex by the wrist. Even as wounded as he was, his grip was outrageously strong. He stopped Lex's arm cold and held it. It was obvious he was disoriented and still thought he was fighting, but when he opened his eyes, his grip loosened. He recognized Lex.

"Don't move, don't talk." Lex ordered.

Clark disobeyed both orders. He turned his head, spitting blood and moaning. His fingers slipped from Lex's wrist to rest on the metal spike. "Fuhhuuk."

Lex grinned. It took a lot to wrench a curse word out of Superman, especially that one. "In case you're wondering, this wasn't mine."

Groaning, Clark shook his head. "Did-dint think so. Not your style."

"I think you have to thank the Federal Government, actually."

"Fuck," Clark repeated.

"Someone will be fucked, that's for sure, especially if this kills you, which honestly, it's likely to do." Lex said quietly, continuing to clean off Clark's face.

"Nuh-uh." Gasping as he struggled for breath, Clark gripped the spike with both hands. They were covered with blood, and slipped off the sharp metal. "Not - yet."

The rescue workers noticed Clark's consciousness and returned, swarming around him like vultures. Lex had to hold his temper as he was shoved aside, knowing that he had to let them work. Clark's jaw was set and despite the agonizing pain, and the weakness, he dictated orders. Upon his request, they wrapped the spike in a towel so that it would not cut him, and he grasped it once again. The EMTs, Lex, and Batman also wrapped their hands around the spike, and on the count of three, with Clark pushing, they pulled upward.

"Aaauuuuuuugh!"

Clark's body arched as the spike jerked out from his body, then collapsed again. He lost consciousness, and he was losing blood rapidly now that the foreign object was removed from his body. As Lex watched, he seemed to grow even more pale.

"Let's move people, let's go!"

They bundled him onto a stretcher as the helicopter rescue unit started its engines. Dust and debris swirled around them, kicked up by the whirling blades. Lex stood with Pete and Batman, watching the helicopter depart, before descending the stairs to his limo for the ride to the hospital.

"....critical condition after a heroic rooftop battle...."

Lex switched off the television. No one in the room needed to hear what they already knew.

It was a private waiting room, situated off of a private wing of Metropolis General Hospital. Security ran high here upon Lex's orders, particularly because Lex himself had established this special high security area of the hospital when he was a patient here. He'd kept his condition quite under wraps. Only a few people knew he wore a prosthetic hand, and fewer still knew why. Only one knew the cancer wasn't completely gone.

~~"Remission? You mean it could come back?"~~

~~"Yes, but the chances are slim." ~~

~~"Any chance is too much."~~

~~"Take it or leave it, Clark. You don't have much of a choice." ~~

That had been before their last big argument, before Clark angrily declared Lex morally bankrupt and stormed out of the apartment they shared. He'd thrown the cancer up in Lex's face too, bringing up their first breakup, which occurred after Lex discovered Clark's secret and retreated into paranoia. He'd kept Clark out of his life by wearing a ring made out of Kryptonite. They'd been apart for four years, while Clark went to college, just enough time for the radiation to do its work on Lex's body. Clark came to him the day before Lex had surgery to remove the hand, and nursed him through all the radiation treatments. Thus, they had made their reconciliation. The cancer went away. Clark stayed with Lex for five years, until the second big fight, then he left.

After the second break-up, Lex figured he'd give Clark a little time apart before making some sort of amends. Clark was very forgiving, and Lex was trying to clean up his act. He'd actually asked Pete to help him, and despite some initial misgivings, Pete had agreed to come on board as Lex's assistant. That in itself should have made an impression on Clark. Lex asked Clark to dinner one night, preparing to apologize, and was declined.

~~"What? What do you mean you have other plans? Hang up the damn cape for one night, Clark, would you, and come see me."~~

~~"Lex, Superman has nothing to do with this. I simply have other plans." ~~

~~"Such as?"~~

~~"If you must know, I'm seeing someone else, and I don't think he'd appreciate me going out to dinner with my ex."~~

Clark's new lover was Gotham's own costumed crime fighter, whose identity Lex spent months trying to unearth. When he finally did so, he made threats, which were countered by not only Bruce, but Clark as well. Clark's threats Lex took with a grain of salt, but not Bruce's. Even if it meant losing his lover, Bruce would kill Lex in a heartbeat if he even thought about revealing Batman's identity. Clark confirmed this, begging Lex to keep his mouth shut.

Lex looked around the room. The only people there were people who knew the truth - Bruce, Pete, Lana, and smuggled in secretly, Martha Kent. Martha and Lana didn't know Bruce was Batman, which made sense. It was Clark who engaged in same sex relationships. Superman had something going with Lois Lane. Batman had nothing going on with anybody, the cold-hearted bastard.

Earlier, Lex had taken great pleasure in tossing Lois out on her ear, despite her pleading. He assured her she and the rest of the media would receive regular updates regarding Superman's condition, then had the guards escort her outside. She resented the fact she'd been reduced to being "the media" and not a close, personal friend of Superman. Lex asked her where her partner was, and Lois promptly went off on a tirade about Clark's unreliability. Lex adored fucking with her.

~~"Why do you string her along, Clark? You've got a mean streak almost as bad as mine when it comes to that girl."~~

~~"I'm not stringing her along, Lex. She knows how unlikely it is for her to have a relationship with Superman. He's an alien after all. Let her have her crush, enjoy her fantasy...."~~

~~"You just like the attention. I've seen how Superman preens whenever she's around."~~

~~"Well, there is that." ~~

He resumed his seat next to Martha. She sat staring off into space, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Jonathan Kent was probably turning around in his grave knowing she'd sought comfort on Lex's shoulder. Of course, Mr. Kent had probably done enough turning over regarding Clark and Lex being lovers to even bother with this minor affront. Lex rubbed her shoulder, and she gave him a small smile.

Next to them sat Pete and Lana. Lana was very pregnant with the couple's second child. Their first, named after Clark, was with Lana's aunt Nell. Pete was humming softly and stroking Lana's hair as she slept cradled against his chest. In her hand, she clutched a wad of damp tissues, and her makeup was streaked with tears. Pete kissed the top of her head. He closed his eyes as well, knowing it might be some time before they knew anything.

Lex allowed his gaze to slip over to Bruce. He'd removed his "uniform" in favor of a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. The only indication that he was at all concerned about his lover's fate was the fact that the shirt was untucked and the sleeves rolled-up. Otherwise, he seemed cool and unaffected. They were much alike, he and Bruce, Lex thought. A casual observer would see Lex as being rather unemotional about the situation too, possibly even callous and uncaring. Nothing could be further from the truth. If the surgeon walked into the room and told them Clark was dead, Lex would be devastated.

During the height of his illness, Lex had once begged Clark to kill him. Sick, in pain, and utterly miserable, Lex hadn't seen the point in continuing to live if his quality of life would be compromised. It had scared Clark, because he knew Lex meant what he said. If the cancer came back, Lex planned on putting a bullet in his head. He felt almost the same way about this. Even though Clark had another lover, their friendship endured on some level, and that in itself made Lex's life worth living. If Clark were gone completely....

Maybe I should call Lucas, reinstate the little prick as my heir.

Lex thumbed his eyes almost angrily. No. It wouldn't be necessary. Clark was not going to die.

He raised his head. After a moment, he took his leave from Martha and crossed the room, sitting down next to Bruce, who pointedly ignored him until he spoke.

"Bruce."

"Lex."

"He's going to be all right," Lex said quietly.

The younger man turned his head, regarding Lex with a pair of startlingly blue eyes. "Who are you trying to convince, me, or yourself?"

Lex swallowed an angry retort. "No faith in your own people, Bruce?"

"I have very little faith in anything. One takes what life brings." He glanced away, then back again. "Clark and I understand the risks of doing what we do."

"But you always discussed it in terms of him losing you, not the other way around." Lex sat back in his seat, regarding Bruce with a chill look of his own. "You aren't the invincible alien being. You're just a guy with a lot of fancy toys and a knowledge of martial arts."

Bruce didn't say anything in response.

"Having Clark's mortality hit you in the face is hard to accept, isn't it? Far easier to deal with one's own."

"What do you want, Lex?"

Lex shrugged. "Nothing. Just trying to find some common ground, Bruce."

"Sharing ground with you, Lex, is like being stranded on a desert island full of land mines."

"Ouch."

Bruce's jaw tightened.

Lex hit him again. "What are you going to do if he dies?"

The mask cracked. Bruce's voice was low, clipped, and his tight control on his emotions wavered. "He's not going to die."

Achieving the emotional response he was after, Lex backed off, quietly observing as Bruce struggled to regain his control. Having Lex toy him into an outburst was a blow to his ego, and fuel for his hatred. One day Clark was probably going to have to step in and keep Bruce from killing him if Lex didn't stop.

~~"I want you to stop."~~

~~"Stop what?"~~

~~"Don't play dumb, Lex. I know why you out-bid Wayne Industries on that amusement park deal."~~

~~"It's a good investment. Besides, why does Wayne need an amusement park? If he wants to look at a clown he can just look in the mirror."~~

~~"I'm warning you, Lex, stop fucking with him."~~

~~"Why don't you stop fucking with him, Clark, and maybe I'll consider it."~~

~~"Grow up. You had your chance and you blew it." ~~

~~"I miss you."~~

~~"Leave Bruce alone."~~

Bruce looked down at his hands and cracked his knuckles. He rarely showed much skin, probably because the scars on him would lead to some uncomfortable questioning. The suit he wore protected him somewhat, but due to the fact that Batman was all too human, Bruce bore some wicked scars from encounters with various bad guys. A billionaire desk jockey shouldn't have scars like that. A long jagged scar ran up his arm from wrist to elbow, puckered and ugly and rather old. That was one that belonged exclusively to Bruce, not Batman. It had been made by a sword, a Japanese Katana. Lex had one in his collection. Bruce had studied swordplay in the orient, and he was the only other man besides Lionel Luthor who could probably beat Lex in fencing.

They were both scarred, inside and out, and Clark was the balm that made everything feel better.

"He still loves you," Bruce said quietly.

Lex flinched. "What?"

Blue eyes, made bluer by the darkness of brows and lashes, studied Lex carefully. "He's never said it, but it's there, in his eyes when he looks at you, in his voice when he talks about you..."

"You're paranoid, Bruce." Lex replied, his voice low. Was this Bruce's attempt to get back at him? It was certainly working, because Lex felt a strange surge of joy upon hearing the words, true or not. "In case you don't remember, Clark left me."

"You can love someone and be unable to live with them, Lex." Bruce leaned back in his seat. "I'm sure he loves me after a fashion, but I'm not a fool to dismiss what he feels for you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Bruce's broad shoulders rolled back as he stretched a little. Lex heard his joints pop, and idly wondered what it would be like to sleep with him before shoving that thought out of his head.

"I thought you should know."

Lex looked away, swallowing heavily, hating himself for falling for what could possibly be a retaliation for Lex's own taunting. It was on the tip of his tongue to repeat Bruce's denial.

He's not going to die.

A scuffling sound interrupted the conversation before it could go any further, if it were going to go further. Lex wasn't sure. Looking up, they saw the surgeon Bruce had flown in from Gotham enter the room. Martha reached over and shook Pete and Lana awake. Bruce and Lex stood.

The man looked rather pale, which wasn't a good sign, and very weary. He shook his head slightly before he spoke and for the briefest second they thought Clark had died.

"We did what we could with what we had. I would have liked to given him another transfusion, possibly two, but we just didn't have the resources. We used up everything he had set aside."

"There should have been more than enough!" Lex countered.

The doctor nodded. "Blood does go bad, Mr. Luthor, even if it is stored cryogenically. Some of it was unusable."

"But he's alive," Martha said. Lex glanced over his shoulder at her. Her eyes were pleading. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"Yes, although I can't say for certain he'll remain that way. He's still critical. The differences between kryptonian and human biology are subtle, but there nonetheless. I did what I could. The best we can hope for now is that his natural healing abilities kick in and do the rest."

Martha nodded. Lex felt her hand tighten around his. "Can we see him?"

"I'd rather he not have visitors. We're having a hard time finding a pain medication that will work on him. He's unconscious now and I'd like for him to remain so as much as possible. Not only will it relieve the pain, but allow his body to heal."

"Thank you, Robert," Bruce said quietly. "I'm sure your efforts will be successful."

The doctor hesitated, then drew Bruce aside a little. Lex left Martha to be comforted by the Rosses, and eavesdropped on the conversation. Bruce gave him a dirty look, but allowed it.

"Bruce, it's pretty bad. If infection sets in at all, he's going to die. We simply don't have any medications that will work on him, and we have to know ahead of time. If we accidentally give him something he's allergic to, we'll kill him." The doctor ran a shaking hand through his hair. "It was just as well he'd lost so much blood because it kept him unconscious. We couldn't use anesthetic on him. I was afraid he'd wake up with my hands in his guts."

Lex winced.

Bruce sighed, his head bowed. When he looked up again he seemed to have regained his composure. "Can you make a statement to the press?"

The doctor nodded.

Before they moved away, Lex put his hand on the doctor's arm, stopping him. "I'm a man of statistics, doctor. Give me a percentage."

There was a pause. "I'd give him a twenty percent chance right now."

"How can we improve those odds?" Lex managed, his voice somewhat shaky.

The doctor was very frank.

"Pray."

~~"Hmm, Lex? What are you doing?"~~

~~"Watching you sleep."~~

~~"That's a pretty boring hobby."~~

~~"On the contrary, I find it exhilarating."~~

~~"How's that?"~~

~~"Simply because you're here, in my bed, and I love you."~~

~~"You're a sentimental sap."~~

~~"I won't deny it."~~

~~"Should I go back to sleep then?"~~

~~"No."~~

~~"Why?"~~

~~"Because now I get to have sex with you."~~

~~"You sure about that?" ~~

~~"You're a tease, Kent." ~~

Lex sat in the darkness, back in one corner of Clark's room. At one point, a nurse came into the room and didn't even see him there, which was all right by Lex. He wasn't supposed to be there but he'd snuck in after everyone else had left. Lex Luthor had a lot of pull at Metropolis General Hospital, and he suspected that was one reason why Bruce hadn't wanted Clark brought here.

Martha was in a room down the hall, sleeping. Pete and Lana had gone home, and Bruce disappeared just after nightfall, presumably to take care of his duties as Gotham's dark knight. Lex suspected Bruce needed the time alone. He wasn't the type of person to seek comfort from others, but instead retreated alone into his own thoughts. Not for the first time he wondered at the relationship between the dark and brooding Bruce, and the more sociable Clark. Once again, he found himself comparing himself to Bruce Wayne.

One of the few differences was in Lex's obsessive-compulsive personality. While Bruce could retreat into himself and find comfort, Lex would find one thing and one thing only that could ease his sorrows. That one thing would become an obsession, something he needed to possess beyond anything else, and he would have it at any cost. Only Clark seemed to elude Lex's grasp. Lex wondered if Clark knew how much he needed him, decided he probably did.

~~"Your new boyfriend know you call me all the time?"~~

~~"Yes."~~

~~"And he allows it?"~~

~~"It's not a matter of him allowing it, Lex. He doesn't own me. You still don't understand the concept of partnership between two people, do you?" ~~

~~"Whatever, Clark. He can't be too pleased."~~

~~"As a matter of fact, he's not."~~

~~"Then why do you call me?"~~

~~"Because you're my friend."~~

~~"I'm not buying it. There has to be more."~~

~~"You'd like to think so. Okay, there's more. It's because I know you're holed up in your office watching movies all by yourself and aren't even trying to get out and meet someone. It's not healthy for you to be alone so much, Lex, you get weird."~~

~~"Thanks a lot, Clark, and can I remind you at this point that it was you who left me?" ~~

~~"I'm aware of that."~~

~~"Just come over. We'll talk...."~~

~~"I'm not coming back, Lex."~~

~~"Clark...."~~

~~"No."~~

They were giving him morphine, enough to kill a human man. It didn't seem to be working very well. Even unconscious, Clark's face looked strained beneath the abrasions and bruises. There was a pinched look to his features, as if the pain reached down past his normal senses into his very soul. It probably did, considering he'd nearly been cut in half. A few centimeters to the left and the tail spike would have severed Clark's spine. Had he been just slightly slower when he made that last ditch effort to get out of the way....

Lex shuddered.

There was a breathy moan from the bed. Lex raised his head and saw Clark's lips part slightly. He moved the chair closer, into the light issuing from the head of the bed where the monitors kept watch on Clark's vital signs. A moment later Clark's eyes fluttered open and he focused slowly on Lex's face.

"Enjoy your flight?" Lex whispered.

Clark smiled a little. It was an in-joke, developed during Lex's cancer treatments when he'd sometimes fall asleep or simply lose consciousness, only to wake with Clark sitting beside him looking anxious. Lex once said something about dreaming he was flying during those little outages, and Clark had come up with their catch phrase. It made them both feel better.

"Knew you'd...be huhhere."

"Bruce is off playing caped crusader. Somebody had to sneak in and give the nurses a hard time."

"Hmmm." Wincing, Clark shut his eyes tightly.

"Hurt?"

It came out in a gasp. "Yes."

"Ride it out, you'll be okay."

Lex watched the struggle, and slipped his hand beneath Clark's. He felt Clark's fingers close around his, felt them squeeze with a grip as weak as a small child's, not that of a man who could bend steel bars.

"All at once," Clark murmured.

"What?"

"The pain. It's...all that...I never felt before. All 't once." His throat worked, swallowing back a moan. "God...."

"Shhh, it's okay. It'll pass and you'll be as good as new. The doctor thinks once you stabilize your body will heal itself." Lex cast a wary eye on the heart monitor. The pain was causing Clark's blood pressure to do the tango. The machine had been recalibrated to Clark's normal vital signs instead of that of a human. It was disturbingly accurate and what it was saying wasn't very good.

"Uuuhmmm, huhhurts."

"I know, I know. Shhh."

Was this what it was like for him, when I was so sick? This feeling of helplessness,* and fear*? Was that what he went through when he knelt on the floor beside me watching me puke my guts up after the chemo? Maybe I should have died,* and spared us both*.

Clark settled after a moment, lying very still with eyes closed and the fingers of his free hand curled into the mattress. Sweat was beaded across his forehead, tears ran from the corner of his eyes. His color had faded even more.

"You set those monitor alarms off, Clark, and Nurse Ratchet will come kick me out." Lex said softly. He lifted the hand locked around his and rubbed the back of it. Then he kissed it. "You understand me? I know you studied bio-feedback. You can control the pain if you just calm down and relax. Just relax."

There was a sigh, and Clark's eyes opened again. He turned his head slightly to regard Lex with a worried expression. " 'm so tired."

"You lost a lot of blood."

"Tired." Clark moaned a little, then licked his lips. "Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"If I...."

"You aren't going to die, Clark."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Lex...."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

They stared at each other, and Lex felt his chest tighten. There was something in Clark's eyes that Lex hadn't seen there in a very long time: self-doubt. Concerns for others had become paramount over the years and Clark never feared for himself. Why should he? He was Superman. Now, however, he heard Lex's words of confidence and doubted them, doubted himself. Lex knew there had to be a reason why.

"What is it?"

Clark's fingers disengaged from Lex's. Slowly, painfully, he reached beneath the covers. When he brought his hand back into view, the fingertips were stained crimson.

Lex's breath caught. He stood, and with trembling hands pulled back the sheets and blanket. The thick bandaging around Clark's midsection was brightest white, save for a round spot where blood had soaked though to the surface. The wound was bleeding again, possibly internally as well. Lex replaced the covers but before he could move or say anything, Clark's hand caught his again.

"Wait."

"Clark...."

"I want...wuhant you to take care of Muhmom." Clark whispered. His voice was barely audible. He swallowed hard, wincing at the pain again. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Clark nodded. His grip loosened on Lex's wrist, leaving behind his fingerprints etched in red, and he drifted into unconsciousness again.

Lex jammed his hand down frantically on the call button.

"What the fuck happened?"

Bruce slammed through the door to Clark's room, startling both the doctor and Lex, who stood near the bed. His hair was damp with sweat and clung to his face. He was wearing the same clothes he'd had on earlier, only now they were rumpled and creased as if they'd been picked up off the floor. They probably had been, and he'd thrown them on when he'd come back from Gotham, changing out of Batman's costume. Lex had called the Wayne mansion knowing Bruce's butler would know how to contact him. Batman had probably gotten a very disturbing page.

"He's bleeding again. Something we missed." The doctor shook his head. "I don't know, but...."

"Can't you go back in? Fix it?"

"Bruce, he's not stable enough for that. We'll have to play it out a little. The bleeding may stop on its own...." His tone was hopeful, his expression contradictory.

"And if it doesn't? You've already said he's lost too much! Now this?"

"I've got my people working on developing a synthetic," Lex said. "I sent them a sample this afternoon."

Bruce whirled on him, his dark brows dipping low over his forehead while his blue eyes glinted icily. "Yeah, and how long will that take? It's a waste of time, Luthor!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Lex asked softly.

Teeth clenched, Bruce turned his head away from both Lex, and the pale figure in the bed. Without another word, he pushed back through the doors out into the hallway. Lex followed to find him leaning heavily against the wall, his face buried in his hands, utterly silenced. When he finally looked up, his eyes were dry, but his distress was clearly written upon his face. Lex put his hands in his pockets and leaned on the wall across the hall from him.

"I should have been here. I heard about the machine. I could have come and helped him."

"Yeah, and you'd be toast right now, Wayne. You would have just gotten in the way. If he couldn't handle it, what hope did you have? Nobody could have predicted this. Superman is invincible."

"You and I know otherwise," Bruce snapped.

"And so now you're blaming me." It was a statement, not a question. "Of course you are, after all, one of my ex-researchers developed the thing. What, did you think I sent it for Clark on purpose? You think I'd rather have him dead than with someone else? Is that it?"

"I don't blame you, damnit! Why does everything always come back to you? This has nothing to do with you. Clark and I cover each other's backs, I should have been there regardless of my own safety. That's what partners do...."

"Always the martyr."

Bruce pushed himself off the wall and lunged across the space separating them. He came within inches of Lex's face. Lex could feel his body heat.

"I don't have to take this from you, Luthor."

"Take what? You're beating yourself up. I just want you to know that I in no way blame myself, nor anyone for this and I won't have any finger pointing going on about it. You said it yourself, Clark knows the risks." Lex paused, and swallowed the remnants of his brief flash of anger. "Clark would have kicked your ass if you'd shown up, Bruce, and you know it. He'd kick your ass now if he could for blaming yourself. So stop, just stop."

Meeting Lex's gaze, Bruce studied him carefully before backing up a step. He was still angry, probably more at himself than Lex, and he resumed a brooding silence as he returned to the opposite side of the wall. He leaned a shoulder on it, gazing out toward the empty waiting area.

Lex sighed.

~~"So, how did you meet? Was it some sort of convention for the Spandex Wearers of America?"~~

~~"Very funny."~~

~~"Hmm, is there a club for vigilantes?" ~~

~~"Lex...."~~

~~"What? Clark, I'm just curious."~~

~~"Yeah, sure."~~

~~"Truth, I swear. I just want to know a little bit about him. I mean the man runs around dressed like a bat for God's sake, although the black is a bit more dignified than colors picked from a kindergartners crayon box." ~~

~~"You like pissing me off, don't you?"~~

~~"It's better than sex." ~~

~~"You idiot." ~~

"Where are you staying?"

"I'm not leaving."

"How long has it been since you slept?"

Bruce glared at him. "I'm not leaving."

"Bruce, if anything changes, they'll call. My penthouse is a block from here. I'll have something brought in to eat, you can crash on my sofa. You won't be doing anyone any good if you run yourself into the ground." Lex rolled his eyes at the stubbornness of superheroes. "Clark wouldn't hold it against you."

"You seem to think you know what Clark would or would not do, don't you?"

"I've known him a hell of a lot longer than you have." Lex met his gaze unwaveringly. "I don't want to leave either," he added softly. "But sometimes logic has to prevail."

Lowering his eyes, Bruce nodded.

Bruce noted the blood on Lex's sleeve when Lex handed him a drink. Lex had washed it from his skin, but had failed to remove one smeared thumbprint from the edge of his white dress shirt. He excused himself and went into his bedroom to change.

As he removed his jacket, and pulled off the shirt, he paused, staring at the smear of blood as he sank slowly onto the bed. He ran his thumb over the spot repeatedly. How much of Clark's life did this small drop of blood represent?

"Just how long have you known Clark?"

Lex looked up. Bruce stood in the door, sipping the scotch Lex had given him. In the dim light of the hallway Lex could see a passing resemblance to Clark in the broad shoulders and dark hair. Bruce was just slightly shorter, Lex's height, and lighter of build than Clark, but he had a certain air about him. Maybe it was just some hero thing. They were all cut from the same cloth.

"Fourteen years this October," Lex said. "I met him when he was fifteen."

"Just a baby."

"If you're implying what I think you are, Bruce, you're wrong. I never laid a finger on him until he was eighteen, and he initiated it." Lex tossed his shirt to a nearby chair and stood up, crossing the room to his dresser. "I'm not into cradle robbing."

"I was implying nothing, Lex. It was simply a statement." Bruce tipped up his drink and moved into the room, setting his empty glass on a bookshelf. He paused to read some of the titles. "And just how does a multi-millionaire wind up with a poor farm kid? I've often wondered."

"You're a multi-millionaire, you tell me."

"He was beyond being a poor farm kid by the time I met him."

Lex withdrew a shirt from his dresser drawer, then replaced it in favor of another. "I'm surprised Clark hasn't told you this already."

"Clark is fairly tight-lipped when it comes to discussing you."

"Certainly goes along with your theory that he still loves me." Glancing over at his guest, Lex saw him wince slightly, obviously not pleased to review that conversation. "How do you think we met?"

Bruce shrugged.

"He saved my life." Lex said bluntly. "Pulled me out of a car accident, and of course denied the fact that what I'd hit prior to going over a bridge was not a guard-rail, but Clark himself."

~~"What do you think happened, Lex?"~~

~~"I think I hit you with my car at sixty miles per hour."~~

~~"If you did, I'd be dead."~~

~~"Do you believe a man can fly?" ~~

~~"Aliens? I'd keep that one to yourself, Lex."~~

~~"Clark, I'm sorry."~~

~~"I think I'm having feelings for you I shouldn't."~~

~~"I love you."~~

"Lex?"

Lex jerked to attention, realizing he'd let his mind wander. When he looked down, he was surprised to discover he was not holding one of his shirts, but one of Clark's. He'd left it when he moved out, and although Lex fully intended to return it, he always seemed to forget it was there. The plain white cotton was soft beneath his fingers, like Clark's skin.

Bruce was watching him intently from across the room, holding a volume of ancient Roman poetry in one hand. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." He put the shirt away and grabbed one of his own. "Yes, I'm just...tired."

There was a soft "thunk" as Bruce replaced the book back on its shelf. "You were telling me how you met Clark."

Clearing his throat, Lex nodded. He pulled the shirt over his arms and up his shoulders, pausing to button the cuffs. "I run him over, he saves my life, and I realize not only do we have a few things in common, but he's not the slightest bit interested in who I am nor how much money I have. I'm sure you realize the value of a such a friend."

"Indeed."

"So we become friends, eventually lovers, and unfortunately seem to always be on the verge of a breakup. I have secrets, Clark certainly has secrets, and neither us is completely trusting of the other." Lex shrugged, and his fingers hesitated on the next button. "It leaves a lot unsaid," he added softly. "A lot unsaid."

He could feel Bruce's gaze, and pointedly ignored it, instead turning to glance at himself in the mirror above the dresser. Why, he didn't know. He wasn't going anywhere that he needed to check his appearance. Maybe he wanted to make sure he still existed, as if he would fade away upon Clark's death, as if they were one person. The sight of his weary face with the dark circles beneath his eyes reminded of him poignantly of when he was sick. He and Clark had done a lot of talking during that time. Lex was too weak to do much else. In retrospect, Lex realized it was because they'd both been afraid he'd die.

But we're not finished. Clark, I have so much more I need to tell you.

"It's always in terms of his loss," Bruce said, echoing Lex's sentiments from another conversation.

Lex resumed dressing. "Superman is invincible," he murmured. "This was never supposed to happen. Nothing could touch him. That this...it's idiotic, unbelievable."

"A seemingly routine encounter, a simple attack, nothing spectacularly heroic, Superman shouldn't have to die like this."

"He shouldn't have to die at all." Lex groped for, and found, the end of the bed, supporting himself on the foot-board. He was suddenly very dizzy as exhaustion and grief started to get to him. It made him curse. The meteor strike had given him immunity from everyday illnesses, but not the cancer. The meteor had caused Lex's cancer, and even though he'd beat it back, it had left scars. He was so tired.

He felt a strong hand beneath his elbow.

"Clark...."

"Don't bother to play host," Bruce guided him to the bed, gently pushed him down onto it, and Lex found neither the strength to be outraged at the man's familiarity, nor to continue standing. "Get some sleep."

Both of them would wonder, much later, what happened. Bruce started to move away, his hand slipping away from Lex's arm, but pulling up short when Lex's fingers curled around his wrist.

Bruce's lips parted but he didn't say anything. Lex spoke for them both.

"Stay."

"Lex...."

He stood again, using Bruce's strong arms to pull himself back to his feet. His eyes studied those before him, his mouth hovered close to Bruce's mouth. Their breath mingled.

"Please," Lex whispered, and kissed him. "I can make you forget. You can make me forget."

There was only a minute hesitation, and Lex knew he'd won.

The phone had woken him sometime in the wee hours of the dawn but he'd let it ring several times before answering it. It had been a long time since Lex had shared his bed with anyone, and he was loathe to leave the warm circle of his lover's arms. Bruce was built much like Clark, felt similar to Clark, but wasn't* Clark at all. Despite the differences, he was someone Lex could cling to when he so desperately needed it. Neither one of them expressed their guilt. They didn't have to verbalize what they already knew. Lex wondered if it even mattered.

The phone call had woken them both.

"Yes. I'll be there."

He'd rolled over and buried his face in Bruce's chest, inhaling the faint musky odors of sweat and sex among the dark curls. Clark wasn't nearly as hairy, something to which Lex, given his own hairless state, was more accustomed.

Bruce pulled away. "Who was it?"

It had been Robert. Clark was conscious, and asking for them both.

Lex's first thought was, "He knows!" But he put it out of his head as he and Bruce hurried to dress and get to the hospital.

Once there, Bruce went in to see Clark first. When he came out again his expression betrayed nothing, but his mannerisms did. He ignored Lex, and instead walked out of the waiting room down the hall where he bought a cup of coffee from a vending machine. He stood there, a silent, brooding, figure, sipping his coffee and looking out the window into the parking lot below. Lex turned away and went into the room.

It was dark. The shades were pulled shut. It was silent. The monitors were turned low. Looking at Clark's pale white face and listening to the silence, Lex thought he had died until he sat down. Close to the bed, he could see the slow rise and fall of Clark's chest, and hear the soft rasp of his breathing. Lex watched him without speaking until his eyes opened and he turned his head ever so slightly to meet Lex's gaze.

"How is he?"

"Upset," Lex replied quietly. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing," Clark whispered. "He told me you put him up for the night."

"Among other things?"

"Bruce isn't like us. He'll say what's on his mind."

"And make a guilty confession to a dying man? How noble." Lex snorted, and crossed his arms over his chest, irritated that Bruce had told of his - their - betrayal.

Only Clark did not see it that way. "I don't care, Lex."

"You don't?"

"No, not if it was a comfort for you, or him."

Lex hesitated for some time before replying. "It was for him, I think," he said, and then his voice and his eyes, lowered. "I don't think I can be comforted or consoled. Clark, I...."

~~"I'm dying."~~

~~"No, Lex. You're not dying."~~

~~"Don't lie to me!"~~

~~"Lex, the doctors said this was going to be rough, but you aren't dying." ~~

~~"Don't laugh at me, Clark. You don't know what it's like to have your insides scrambled until you can't do anything but puke. The human body isn't meant to take this shit. Oh, God!"~~

~~"Easy..."~~

~~"God, oh God. Please, just break my neck. Put me out of my misery."~~

~~"Don't be an idiot. Come here, let me hold you." ~~

~~"I reek of vomit."~~

~~"I don't care." ~~

~~"Clark, I can't do this."~~

Abruptly Lex rose from his chair, stalking across the room to the windows. "Why the hell is it so dark in here?"

"Death isn't allowed to be sunny." Clark murmured.

"You aren't dying."

Lex jerked back the heavy drapes like he was opening flood-gates. Bright sunlight poured into the room, falling over the bed in streams of yellow and gold. Dust motes danced in it as if freed from their prison of darkness. It stung Lex's eyes and made them water.

Or was that something else?

He went to the bed and sat on the edge. Clark winced as he was jostled, but shook his head at Lex's immediate apology. He raised a hand and Lex took it, stroking the back where the I.V. penetrated. Clark's hand was hot, feverish, and discolored. Even with him so weak, they'd had a hard time getting the needle through Clark's skin, badly bruising him in the process. Morphine, among other things, ran freely into Clark's body, and seemed to have little effect.

"Beautiful day," Clark closed his eyes. The sunlight sucked what little color did have right out of him, leaving his skin the pale milky white of parchment and making the bruises and lacerations left from his battle with the robotic spider look frighteningly livid.

"The forecasters predict sun for the rest of the week."

"Hmm. It feels good."

~~"What are you doing?"~~

~~"Soaking up the sun, care to join me?"~~

~~"No. It's bad enough for me to have a naked man lolling around on my roof. Can you imagine what a field day the press would have if I did it too?"~~

~~"Lex, this is one of the tallest buildings in Metropolis. Only a very silent helicopter or Superman could spy on you up here."~~

~~"Have you spied on me before, Clark? Ah, well, the grin answers that question. Isn't that illegal? What would the press say if they knew Superman was a peeping Tom?"~~

~~"That I have excellent taste. You'd better get used to this, Lex. I do it on a regular basis."~~

~~"Whatever for? You don't tan."~~

~~"No, but Earth's sun and kryptonian biology are uniquely compatible. Maybe it's my imagination, but I always feel better after I've spent a few hours sun-bathing." ~~

~~"You want to explain that?"~~

~~"In scientific terms or layman?"~~

~~"Whatever floats your boat, Clark."~~

~~"Cellular mutation."~~

~~"Ah, see, I always knew you were a mutant."~~

~~"Only it's the planet and her atmosphere, not a meteor rock causing the mutation. The sun is part of the equation. Krypton's sun was red, not yellow, and emitted a different sort of radiation. If I had been raised on my native planet I would not be 'super' at all." ~~

~~"You'd always be super, no matter where you were raised."~~

~~"Sap."~~

~~"No arguments here." ~~

"Where do you go?" Clark murmured. "When your mind wanders."

Lex looked down at him. "The past."

"A wonderful thing, hindsight."

His fingers trembling, Lex brushed an errant lock of hair from Clark's forehead. "It gives us the power to correct our mistakes, if only in our minds."

Clark's eyes opened. The sunlight turned them a bright, vivid green. "And what mistake would you correct?"

"I would have never let you get away."

"Locked me up?"

"Loved you better," Lex whispered, and kissed his fingers. Clark's hand, like the rest of him, was warm, both from the sun and from a fever. The fever was not a good sign. "I can't love you more, but I could have loved you better."

"Hmmm," Clark smiled slightly as he closed his eyes again. His fingers tightened around Lex's hand. He began drifting off to sleep again, and Lex sat with him until he heard the creak of the door. It was Robert. Lex gently set Clark's hand down, standing to meet the physician at the door.

"I want the drapes left open," he stated. "Furthermore, I want him taken outside at least once a day, at noon."

"Outside? Mr. Luthor, I have to protest. I don't think...."

"Dr. Forester, you are not being paid to think. You're being paid to save a man's life and thus far you are failing. You are aware of just how Superman comes about his powers, I assume?" Lex demanded. He fixed the man with an expression he usually reserved for the boardroom, an expression that usually produced results.

"In theory, yes."

"It's beyond theoretical. His body can heal itself. I have seen it happen. If his reserves are so low he cannot heal himself, then it is up to us to replenish those reserves. How many other options do we have here?"

"Nuh...."

"That's right, none. Get him the fuck outside, doctor, or I will do it myself."

The door to Lex's office flew open with a bang and Lex didn't flinch. He'd retreated back to work after his visit with Clark and the confrontation with the doctor because his nerves simply could not take another minute of torment. Work provided a distraction. He accomplished a great deal in the two hours he'd been thus absorbed too, closing several key deals and setting up a few more. One such deal would have screwed over one of Lex Corp's biggest rivals, and in a move many would find out of character, he backed down, offering a compromise. The rival was Wayne Industries. On one hand, the deal could be seen as a peace offering, but in the event things went sour between himself and Bruce, Lex could always use his generosity as leverage as well.

Considering the way Bruce had slammed into his office, Lex thought a souring of their relationship was imminent.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Lex ignored him, leafing through some paperwork he was to sign. "Working. I should think it obvious considering this is my office and I am sitting behind my desk."

"Don't patronize me, Luthor. You know what I'm talking about. I just had a talk with Robert and Mrs. Kent."

"Then you'll find that Mrs. Kent agrees with me."

When there was no immediate reply, Lex looked up from his reading. Bruce was working on getting his expression under control, but it was obvious he was infuriated. His body language indicated he was just short of grabbing Lex by the throat and choking the life out of him.

"You're going to kill him," Bruce said hoarsely. "Or worse, prolong the inevitable. He's already suffering. Is this some sort of payback, Lex?"

"Payback?" Lex closed the file folder and set down his pen, leaning forward over his desk.

Bruce smirked. "For the meteor shower. For the cancer. For leaving you...."

Lex's own temper flared, but unlike the younger Bruce Wayne, he was incredibly adept at keeping it under wraps. Bruce had not known Lionel Luthor. He did not know that the more calm a Luthor appeared, the more dangerous the situation. Had Clark been there he would have known immediately Lex was pissed. If Lex had a gun, he would have put a bullet right between Bruce's pale blue eyes.

"I don't play games, Bruce," he said quietly. "I'm not a vigilante. My life does not revolve around vengeance."

Bruce stiffened as Lex's barb sunk deep. "Son of a bitch."

Shrugging, Lex sat back in his chair once more. "Furthermore, if I wanted Clark dead, I could have done it many times in the past. I could have simply let my father 'exterminate' the alien as he'd mentioned doing many years ago and walked away without dirtying my hands." He paused before adding:, "I'm trying to save him, Bruce. If you want him to live, you'll stay out of it."

Turning away, Bruce stared at the bank of monitors in which Lex had watched the initial fight and Clark's unfortunate injury. They were turned off, their dark screens looking like so many dead eyes. Lex watched him, and struck another blow.

"Or is it you who want him dead?"

Whirling, Bruce rushed him. What he'd intended, Lex didn't know and didn't care. In one smooth motion, he rose from his chair, turned to the shelf behind him, and withdrew the ornate Japanese Katana from its stand. The sharp blade cut through the air with an ominous "thwip" as he unsheathed it still turning. When his momentum ceased Lex was standing at his desk with his sword pointed toward Bruce, who had stopped his advance when the tip of Lex's blade struck his chest.

They stood there glaring at each other until slowly, ominously, Bruce smiled.

"You don't know what you're doing."

Lex was unwavering. "And I don't think you know who you're dealing with - Batman. Don't push me."

The stalemate lasted only a few seconds more. Bruce finally raised his hands, and with a slight incline of his head, backed away from the sword's point. Lex put the weapon back in its scabbard, but did not return it to its stand behind him. Instead, he laid it across his desk before him as he sat down again. It was a line, and Bruce had better not cross it.

"Did you talk to Clark?"

"No, he was sleeping."

Lex nodded. "You talk to him, Bruce, and maybe you'll learn a few things about me, and him, that you didn't know before. Then you'll understand why Robert has his new instructions."

Clark never gave up on me, and I refuse to give up on him. Not until the last breath has left his body will I cease trying to find a way to save him. I. Will. Not. Give. Up.

"You're both fools." Bruce spat the words, as if they left a bad taste in his mouth, as if he were utterly disgusted.

"And thou art guilty by association, Bruce. Do you love him?"

The abruptness of the question took Bruce off guard. For a moment, all he could do was look at Lex without speaking. Lex wondered if he were trying to figure out what game Lex was playing and failing, failing because Lex wasn't playing any game. It was an honest question. He expected an honest answer.

He didn't get one. Whatever Bruce's feelings toward Clark were, he intended them to be kept to himself. Lex spoke instead.

"Clark has saved my life more times than I can count. We've been friends for nearly half our lives, lovers almost as long. Love him or hate him, I would still owe him, and Luthors always pay their debts."

The silence stretched on until Bruce, obviously fighting with himself, broke down and looked away, his stern expression shifting into one of confusion and weariness. Like Clark, Bruce Wayne lived with duel identities. Unlike Clark he couldn't stay active as long without taking a break. Night and day he'd been going, traveling between Metropolis and Gotham, living with the stress of dealing with Clark's illness. Lex easily recognized a man on the verge of breaking. He'd been there many times himself.

~~"How did you find out?"~~

~~"I have my sources. I could ruin him, you know. If it were revealed that Gotham's flying rodent were really Bruce Wayne, he'd be completely destroyed. No one would do business with him and the Wayne empire would crumble."~~

~~"And Lex Corp. would swoop in to scoop up the remains. You wouldn't dare, Lex."~~

~~"Are you threatening me, Superman?"~~

~~"You're behaving like a jealous child. Leave him alone. You and I are over, so just deal with it." ~~

~~"Do you love him?"~~

~~"I don't have to answer that."~~

~~"You hesitated, though, didn't you? Does that mean you don't love him? I never thought you'd be one to forge a casual relationship based purely on sex."~~

~~"Really? Why do you think I stayed with you?"~~

~~"Clark, you're a horrible liar, especially when you're ticked off. I know better than to believe you were with me only for the sex."~~

~~"I stayed with you because I felt sorry for you."~~

~~"Now that I would believe, because you are a sentimental fool, among other things." ~~

~~"That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think, Lex? I'm not, after all, the one behaving like a jealous brat because his boyfriend is dating someone else."~~

~~"Well, Clark. I never stayed with you for the sex, nor because I felt sorry for you... Clark?"~~

~~"I'm still here. Please don't screw around with Bruce, Lex. Please?"~~

~~"Do you love him?"~~

~~"Yes, yes I do."~~

"Yes," Bruce whispered.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what?"

"I love him, Lex, and I can't stand to lose him."

The scrape of Lex's chair as he pushed it back seemed very loud in the silence of the room, as was the quiet "click" as he replaced the Katana back in its stand. He turned slowly and met Bruce's gaze with the arrogance of one who had won a major battle.

"Then trust me."

Robert had set up a secluded spot on the hospital grounds away from the prying eyes of the press and other curiosity seekers. Security guards lined the perimeter. They were the same ones who kept watch on Clark's room, and knew who was permitted to come and to go; therefore, Lex had no trouble getting by them. He strode out into the sunlight to where a gurney sat in the brightest spot in the little courtyard. There was a fountain there, and on the concrete edge sat Martha Kent, reading a book.

Lex admired Mrs. Kent a great deal, especially after everything he'd learned about the family over the years, and having been a part of the family, in a manner of speaking. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman who'd overcome much hardship and grief during her lifetime. Despite it all, she always had a smile ready and a kind word at hand.

She saw Lex approaching and excused herself, closing the book and meeting him halfway across the lawn. The sunlight turned her once auburn hair silver-glint. Older, but definitely wiser, and somehow even more elegant than before. Lex found his admiration of her swell into genuine affection. She'd always reminded him of his mother, in more than just looks.

Up close, he could see the strain despite her smile and the quick kiss she planted on his cheek.

"Martha, how is he?"

Martha shook her head, her pleased expression fading into one of sorrow. "Lex, I don't know. He's in a lot of pain, and burning up with a fever. But I swear...I would swear the bruises have faded."

"What does the doctor say?"

Her fingers tightened around the book in her hands. "I asked him if it could be that the fever is a result of Clark's immune system, his healing abilities, beginning to take hold. After all, a fever is a result of the body trying to fight off disease and infection."

Lex nodded slightly. "And?"

"He was pessimistic. He tried to be kind, Lex, but...." Martha's eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back and her voice was unwavering. "He said not to get my hopes up."

She couldn't hold back the tears when he wrapped his arms around her. Lex held her while she cried, stroking her hair gently and whispering nothing in particular to her, just making the soothing noises she needed to hear.

~~"Dad's not speaking to me."~~

~~"Is that all?"~~

~~"Is that all? Lex, that's pretty significant."~~

~~"Yes, of course, but I sincerely expected him to break in here and ram a shotgun up my ass." ~~

~~"He wouldn't do that, but he did put a hole in the side of the barn."~~

~~"With a shotgun?"~~

~~"With his fist. Nearly broke his hand. He's really upset, Lex."~~

~~"I guess so. Of course, one can't blame him. He's hated me for a long time, Clark, and then to find out I'm fucking his son up the ass...."~~

~~"Lex, damnit...."~~

~~"What?"~~

~~I hate it when you're vulgar."~~

~~"Sex IS vulgar, Clark. You can couch it in pretty words but the long and the short of it is that in bed we all succumb to our baser instincts. We rut like animals. I won't even mention the fact that to a die-hard heterosexual such as your father, anal sex is abhorrently disgusting."~~

~~"I lied a little."~~

~~"There's a surprise. How?"~~

~~"I told him I was fucking you up the ass." ~~

~~"Now who's being vulgar? And I suppose the idea of me being the bottom was much more acceptable. In his little homophobic mind that paints you as being more 'manly', doesn't it?"~~

~~"He didn't accept any of it, but yeah, he looked a little relieved. And grossed out. God, he is so mad at me." ~~

~~"What did your mother say?"~~

~~"Not much. She was pretty shocked. I think if you got pregnant that would cheer her up, though."~~

~~"Clark, you have an utterly sick sense of humor." ~~

Lex sent Martha to the cafeteria for something to eat, and went back to sit on the fountain wall next to Clark. She'd given him the book she'd been reading - Dickens. Lex found Dickens depressing, but that was probably apt for the situation. Leaning his elbows on his knees as he looked up at Clark. Martha's fears were understandable. Clark's hair clung to his face in damp tendrils, his cheeks were flushed, and there was a set to his jaw that indicated he was desperately trying to beat back the pain. There was no longer an iv drip. They'd given that up as pointless.

"The bruises do look faded," Lex said quietly.

"So they say," Clark's voice was breathy, and barely audible, as if he could not spare any more energy toward speaking.

"Bruce thinks I'm trying to kill you."

"Not sure...uhnn...you aren't." Swallowing heavily, Clark turned his head away from Lex, hiding the pain.

"You told me once that it was going to get worse before it got better."

There was a soft grunt of acknowledgement and that was all. Lex sighed and rubbed at his neck. He was stiff and sore, a result of a little bedroom acrobatics with Bruce. Bruce had still been a bit miffed regarding their fight and let Lex know it. Clark turned his head around and watched as Lex fingered his collar, under which an ugly red mark was hidden.

"He plays rough," Lex murmured.

"He does."

"Has he ever hurt you?"

"No. I am able to...let him do as he pleases."

"And given what little I've seen of Mr. Wayne's tastes, I'm rather afraid to ask you what that entails."

Clark smiled slightly. "Best not to."

Lex didn't smile. In fact, his chest tightened as something that had never occurred to him before entered his thoughts. He lowered his eyes to his hands, tracing the gilt script indicating the book's title on its rough leather cover.

"Did I bore you, Clark?" he asked softly.

"You could never be boring, Lex."

"I didn't bore you in bed, because I couldn't play rough? Or because you always ended up having to pull my fat out of the fire, or play nurse-maid when I was sick, and psychologist when I went over the edge?" Lex shook his head. He looked up to find Clark regarding him with a gentle expression. "Bruce is no alien being with extra terrestrial powers, but he's a hero nonetheless. I'm not, Clark, and if that is something you needed...."

Clark sighed. "Is that wuh-why you think...."

"You left me? Yes."

"No. I left, " Clark paused and gathered his strength. "I left because I couldn't stand to see you dig yourself deeper, Lex. You didn't seem to learn anything from your illness, but kept right on destroying yourself. Every day you seemed more and more like Lionel - greedy, corrupt, bitter - and less and less like the man I luh....uhuhn." He broke off with a moan, squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers curled into the sheets. It was a struggle for him to catch his breath, but catch it he did. "I left you because I loved you."

~~Goddamnit, Lex! I can't keep doing this!"~~

~~"Doing what?"~~

~~"Every day I'm busting people who work for you! I'm closing down illegal operations sanctioned by Lex Corp. at least once a week, and don't try to deny it! You can hide it from the authorities, and the press, but damnit you can't hide it from me. What the fuck are you doing?"~~

~~"Surviving, Clark. I do what I have to do to survive. The world I live in isn't as squeaky clean and innocent as life on a farm, in case you've forgotten." ~~

~~"You're breaking the law! Innocent people are suffering...."~~

~~"To the conquerer go the spoils. Survival of the fittest."~~

~~"I can play the quotation game too. How about 'the meek shall inherit the Earth?' " ~~

~~"Does that apply to alien invaders?"~~

~~"You know how I feel about that."~~

~~"Blew your chance, didn't you?"~~

~~"Fuck you!" ~~

~~"Really, Clark. I don't know why you're so pissed off. So I engage in a little bit of illegal activity, it's not like your father never cheated on his income tax."`~~

~~"Leave my father out of this, Lex."~~

~~"Why? You certainly don't hold back when it comes to condemning my father? Besides, Superman, if I remember correctly what you're doing isn't exactly legal either."~~

~~"I'm not a vigilante."~~

~~"No? Ah, yes. A citizen's arrest. You aren't a citizen. Technically you're an illegal alien in the most literal sense."~~

~~"My adoption records say otherwise."~~

~~"My, don't we have a selective memory. Your adoption records are bogus, illegally obtained by your father via my father. You don't have an argument here, you might as well just shut up and keep your nose out of my business"~~

~~"I can't do that. I can't ignore what you're doing."~~

~~"Why? Don't drag me into your passion play, Clark. You know how I feel about your on-going alien guilt trip, your messiah complex. Take your holy mission of truth, justice and the American way somewhere else."~~

~~"Is that what you want? Fine." ~~

"You broke my door," Lex murmured. "Stormed out and broke the door of my office right off it's hinges."

Clark snorted softly. "Better the door. I wanted to rip your head off."

"The ability to infuriate people is a Luthor trait genetically encoded in my DNA. Can't help it." Lex grinned.

It was a fleeting moment. The grin slowly faded as the ache in Lex's chest increased.

"Do you still love me?"

"I will always love you," Clark whispered.

Lex was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He lay sprawled across his bed, sweat running down his face, his breath coming in gasping heaves as he tried to recover from one of Bruce's sexual assaults. The man had no patience, no mercy, and absolutely no inclination to have Lex do him for a change. Clark had never topped, primarily because he enjoyed having Lex fuck him, but Lex also suspected Clark was afraid of hurting him. The occasional blowjob was the only time Lex had Clark inside him and Lex tended to be perfectly content with that.

He had to wonder if letting Bruce have his way with him wasn't some sort of subconscious feelings of guilt bringing with them the need to be punished. He made a note to ask his psychologist at their next appointment. That Lex was even conducting an affair with Bruce, Clark's current lover, while Clark was very close to death, was going to go over with Dr. Primus like a ton of bricks in the first place.

"I should be committed," Lex muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He felt Bruce's hand caress the inside of his thigh. There was a bruise there that, if closely examined, would be found to resemble the caressing hand. The other thigh bore a set of teeth marks.

"Can be arranged," Bruce replied around a yawn. He curled himself around Lex's body, which irritated Lex. He was already too warm.

"If you hate me so much, what are you doing here?" Lex started to roll over and get up, but Bruce's hand closed around his elbow, staying him.

"You tell me."

The blue eyes were earnest, as if sex had driven away his animosity. Of course he had vented some of it, channelling his anger into his quest for sexual satisfaction, and getting in a few good licks on the subject of his ire in the process. Bruce was right in throwing the ball back into Lex's court. They both knew nothing would happen between them if Lex did not agree to it. Bruce had more than his share of darkness, but beneath it all he still fought on the same battlefield as the good guys. Lex's alliances were circumspect. He could play dirty.

If Clark knew just how dirty Lex had played in the past, he would never speak to him again.

Bruce propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Lex with a perfectly neutral expression and Lex found himself uncomfortably reminded of Clark. Bruce wore his dark hair shorter, but one heavy lock of his bangs fell over his forehead in an endearing manner much like Clark's hair. His eyes were blue, but like Clark's they were framed in long, dark lashes. High set cheekbones gave his face a somewhat sharp look, softened by a blush of color. Clark's voice was higher. Bruce had a deep, rumbling purr like a big cat.

My father had a voice like that.

Like Lionel, Bruce could also bite, both figuratively and literally.

Batman, he should be Catman.

"I just missed you at the hospital today. Martha said you'd been there earlier."

"I was," Lex said. "I had an afternoon meeting I could not miss."

"You were upset when you left."

Lex grunted. "Did Martha tell you that? I would think it would be a foregone conclusion."

Bruce shook his head and laid back down, facing Lex. His hand strayed, tracing concentric circles upon Lex's chest. Despite still feeling warm, Lex shifted a little closer, letting Bruce rest his head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of Bruce's head, closing his eyes tightly against the surge of emotion he suddenly felt.

Coarser than Clark's hair. He smells different too, more - human. "Clark mentioned it in passing. He's...not...doing well." Bruce turned his face into Lex's shoulder. Lex felt him shudder.

"Give him time."

Bruce raised his head and stared at him. "Time? Lex, he doesn't have time! Jesus!"

"Give him time," Lex repeated softly. "Trust me, just trust me."

"I don't trust you. I've never trusted you. Hell, Clark doesn't even trust you."

"And if he dies, then you can condemn me."

Lex closed his eyes. If Clark died, he would condemn himself. Having Bruce hate him for propagating false hope would bother him very little in the face of his own self-loathing. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all had been delusional.

"You never answered my question." Putting his head back down, Bruce tightened his grip around Lex's body, pulling himself in tightly. "Why am I here?" he whispered. "Why are we here?"

Because you understand what desperation feels like. You understand what it's like to live hovering on the verge of madness, day after day with only one thing standing between you and complete insanity. We're much alike, you and I.

"We both needed a good lay."

Bruce laughed, his deep voice vibrating against Lex's throat as he kissed him. His kisses continued to Lex's shoulder, and down to his chest. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely. And since I'm convinced Clark is going to live, I'm going to rub this in his face from now until eternity." He hissed when Bruce nipped at him, dug his fingers into Bruce's broad shoulders and moaned when the nipping became licking.

Lex closed his eyes as Bruce moved further south.

"Ah, God!"

~~"Clark?"~~

~~"Hmm?"~~

~~"Are you okay?" ~~

~~"Yeah, just a little - surprised - maybe?" ~~

~~"Surprised?"~~

~~"Uhhuh."~~

~~"Interesting choice of words. Why surprised?"~~

~~"I wasn't sure I was going to...you know...like it."~~

~~"Thanks for the vote of confidence."~~

~~"No, no! It's not you! I just wasn't sure I...I can't explain it."~~

~~"You mean you won't explain it. Shall I file this away under the heading of 'Clark's secrets?' Why Clark thought he'd not get off during sex...."~~

~~"You're spoiling it."~~

~~"Spoiling what?"~~

~~"It." ~~

~~"Clark, don't be obtuse."~~

~~"I'm a teenager. I'm supposed to be obtuse. Don't laugh."~~

~~"What am I spoiling, Clark?"~~

~~"My first time. It's supposed to be special. If we end up bickering that messes it all up." ~~

~~"Ah. I understand. I'm your first? You mean you and Lana...."~~

~~"No."~~

~~"Not even a hand job?"~~

~~"No."~~

~~"Interesting. Please tell me you at least..."~~

~~"Yea-yeah. Sometimes."~~

~~"Completely embarrassed to tell me you've jacked-off before and yet we just finished ripping your virginity to shreds. You're something else, Clark." ~~

~~"That's the truth."~~

"Uhnuhnuh...uh...ah! Fuck!" Lex arched his back, his hands clawing at the bed-clothes as he came hard, his body shuddering in uncontrolled spasms. Sweat ran into his eyes, stinging them, and mingling with his tears.

Live, Clark. Damn you! Please!

Bruce leaned on the wall, the fingers of one hand pressed to his lips as he gazed silently out into the rain outside the window of Clark's room. Shimmering droplets ran freely down the glass like tears. Lex sat in a nearby chair, watching Bruce watch the rain, feeling as gray as the sky. Beside him was Martha Kent, her hand clasped in his. In the light at the head of the bed, directly opposite the others, Lana stood holding Clark's hand and caressing his face. Everything was silent except for the rumble of distant thunder, the whir-hiss of the respirator, and Lana's occasional sniffle.

Lightning flashed outside, making Bruce flinch. He turned to meet Lex's gaze.

"When?"

"Last night. I tried to page you."

Bruce shook his head. "Alfred is visiting his niece in London, and I forgot to set up the automatic forwarding. I never got the message." He moved away from the window, coming to stand at the foot of Clark's bed. It was an interesting contrast: Bruce stood in the shadows, Lana stood in the light. "What has Robert said?"

"He probably won't come out of it," Lex said softly. "I'm sorry. I've failed."

He felt Martha's hand tighten around his. "No! Lex, your theory was sound, it was just...too late. Please, don't...."

Lex nodded. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

He remembered when he was told about the cancer, and the feeling of utter despair that had washed over him, the feeling that he had somehow failed to gain control of his destiny yet again. Lex detested failure. It would have been easy for him to blame Clark, as Bruce had once suggested he had, but Lex never blamed Clark. He blamed himself for being a fool, for allowing, once again, his father to get under his skin. Clark wasn't some evil alien creature bent on taking over the world. Lex knew that, he knew Clark far better than he knew himself. In retrospect, he wondered if his real reason for donning the Kryptonite ring hadn't been because he was afraid not of Clark, but of loving Clark.

~~"What do you want, Lex?"~~

~~"I need to talk to you."~~

~~"What about?"~~

~~"In person, Clark."~~

~~"You're insane. You know I can't get within ten feet of you."~~

~~"I'm not wearing the ring anymore."~~

~~"And I don't trust you."~~

~~"Clark...."~~

~~"No, Lex. I'm not meeting with you."~~

~~"Clark, please just...."~~

~~"No."~~

Lex had called him three times with similar results, refusing to give any details over the phone, and begging Clark to come see him. He'd failed that too, and lay in his hospital room, not far from this one, alone and afraid. He was to go under the knife the next day to remove the useless lump of cancerous flesh and bone that had once been his right hand. His body was pumped full of pain-killers and antibiotics that he had never before needed. It was ironic the same meteors that had bolstered his immune system and made him impervious to illness, had also brought the cancer upon him.

He'd been laying there praying he'd never wake up again, just as he now prayed Clark would, when the door opened. Clark had called his name and he'd sat up, barely believing what he saw. Clark had changed, matured, and Lex discovered he still loved him. They'd stared at each other a long time before Clark broke the silence, and upon hearing his voice, Lex felt a pain totally unrelated to his illness - the pain of longing.

~~"I'm sorry. I should have come before, but I...."~~

~~"It's all right, Clark. I understand. How did you find out?"~~

~~"Chloe."~~

~~"You still speak to Chloe?"~~

~~"Sometimes. It's not the same though. It'll never be the same."~~

~~"Just like us?"~~

~~"I don't...I don't know. No. We're - different." ~~

~~"How did Chloe find out? Is she going to tell her bitch of a cousin? The one with the 'Planet? If she does, I'll kill her, or cut her out of her trust. I can do that, you know."~~

~~"No. I swore her to secrecy. I know you don't want it getting out that you....Lex, please tell me it wasn't the ring."~~

~~"Why? So you won't feel guilty?"~~

~~"Then it was...oh, God! Your hand!"~~

~~"You're going to feel guilty anyway, aren't you? Clark, don't, please. Just don't. The only reason I wanted you to know is because...."~~

~~"Because?"~~

~~"I've left everything to you. Everything. If I die...."~~

~~"You're not going to die!"~~

Lex closed his eyes, screwing them tightly shut, but opening them with a snap as he heard the door creak open. He saw Lana look up, and turned to see what had caught her attention. Pete stood in the doorway, his dark suit flecked with rain along the shoulders and down the lapels, his face that of a man who had seen the end of the world and now had to proclaim it to the masses. He looked - haunted.

"What is it?" Disengaging himself from Martha's hand, Lex stood. Pete beckoned him out into the hallway. Bruce hesitated, then followed.

They stood blinking in the brighter light of the corridor, waiting for their eyes to adjust after the dim lighting of Clark's room. Pete looked haggard and worn, and Lex felt a surge of remorse. Here was someone who was as close, if not closer to Clark than either himself or Bruce. They had been Clark's lovers, Pete was his best friend, confidante, and the man Clark called brother. Now his dark face looked wan, and his expression was one of fear.

Of what?

"I just intercepted a news wire," he said quietly. "Another one of those defense robots has turned up. Right now it's in a remote area of Nevada, but it's already destroyed a military base out there and shot down a couple of fighters that attempted to stop it. I made a few phone calls and found out Wonder Woman has been tracking it from just out of its range. She reported that on its present course and at its current speed, it will hit Vegas in less than twenty-four hours."

Lex cursed. "Why don't they have a fucking failsafe for the damn things?"

Pete shook his head. "I got in touch with the designer after the first incident. There is a failsafe, but there's also a flaw. The creature's own power-plant interferes with the signal. Turns out Clark had the right idea in a way. You have to get through the upper plate on the body of the thing and flip the switch manually, or in that case, destroy it. The trouble is no one can get close enough to do it and the armor virtually indestructible."

During Pete's speech, Bruce had been pacing back and forth, and Lex could see the tension growing in his shoulders until he could no longer keep his silence. His blue eyes were narrowed, his expression dangerous.

"Goddamnit! Where did this one come from? I thought the first was a fluke!"

"Two were launched. The idea was to test them in orbit, where they would be eventually deployed with several others to form a protective grid around the planet, like a giant web. Hence the spider-like design. It was called Project Spider-web. The first went awry during launch. The second actually made it to orbit, but for some reason the thing broke out and has come back down to go berserk like the first. Something in its makeup is making it vulnerable to certain types of radiation, or at least that was Carl's theory."

"So basically the thing has got bugs, big bugs," Lex growled.

"Basically," Pete said softly.

Bruce turned away and stalked down the corridor. Dismissing himself from Pete, Lex followed, catching up with him at the elevators and grabbing him by the elbow. Bruce didn't even turn as he slapped Lex's hand away.

"Don't touch me."

"Where are you going?"

"Where the fuck do you think I'm going?"

Lex wondered why he cared, but his throat tightened as Bruce confirmed his fears, and he found himself abjectly frightened. "You're crazy. Damnit, Bruce!" He gave Bruce's shoulder a shove, forcing him to turn.

Bruce's face was flushed; angry, afraid, grief stricken. "Get out of my way."

"You have no chance of stopping that thing. All you're going to do is get yourself killed."

"I don't expect you to understand."

Enraged, Lex advanced on him, blocking his way to the elevator doors even further. "I understand odds and statistics, Bruce. You're not undergoing some act of heroism. You aren't going to prove anything. You're going out there to commit suicide."

"I have to do this."

"Why?"

"I told you, you can't understand."

"Because I don't go around in spandex and a cape?" Lex spat. "Fuck you. I know what this is about, believe me, I do. Don't pull the superhero code of ethics out and say I can't understand it. I understand you better than you think, Bruce, and this isn't about saving the world. This is about putting yourself out of your misery."

Bruce stared at him. His face had gone cold, and so were his eyes. Lex looked at him and felt as if he were already dead; there was nothing there. Bruce had stopped caring the moment he'd heard Clark had slipped into a coma, giving up on everything, including himself.

Lex hesitated, then acquiesced, spreading his arms in a gesture of futility, and stepping away from the elevators. Bruce stabbed the control panel and stood waiting for the doors to open, his back stiff, his fists clenched. When the doors opened, he stepped inside without a word, and the doors closed behind him.

I tried, Clark. I'm sorry.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Lex slowly slid down until he was crouched near the baseboard, his head in his hands. He heard Pete approach but did not look up.

"Are you able to get in touch with Diana yourself?" he asked softly, free to use her real name now that Bruce, who did not know Lex knew Wonder Woman's secret as well, was out of earshot.

"I think so, why?"

"I want video feed."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Pete's voice held a note of concern. "I mean...."

Lex looked up at him. "You mean do I really want to see Batman get slaughtered?"

"Yeah."

"No," Lex said, and pushed himself back up to a standing position. "No, I don't, but I do want to study the thing, watch what Bruce does. There has to be a way of stopping it, or at least slowing it down. I also want to study the tapes we made of the first one."

Pete nodded. "I'm on it."

~~"You never get paid. You rarely get the thanks you deserve. People frequently make fun of you...."~~

~~"You mean you frequently make fun of me."~~

~~"Very funny. Why do you do it, Clark? I have all Dad's files. I know your initial purpose here was to prepare us for invasion. I have studied Dr. Swann's work regarding what he knew about Krypton. I've heard your own accounts. Like it or not, Clark, you are of a superior race. We're nothing to you. You could twitch your pinkie finger and destroy this entire planet."~~

~~"And just what purpose would that serve?"~~

~~"You'd get a hell of a lot more respect."~~

~~"People would be afraid of me."~~

~~"And...."~~

~~"You obviously have never had someone look at you with fear in their eyes before." ~~

~~"You could have anything and everything you ever wanted."~~

~~"What I want, Lex, is simply the satisfaction that I am making a difference in the world in a positive way. The look on someone's face when you save them from danger, or simply help them out of a troublesome situation, brings with it a feeling I can't even begin to make you understand. It's the best high in the universe." ~~

Lex had been up all night helping Pete set up the video feeds and keeping an eye on the silver spider crawling its way across the Nevada desert. Bruce had not yet arrived on the scene. The last reports said he was still two hours away from the creature's current position. Lex sent Pete home to get some sleep and promised he would rest himself. He got the distinct impression Pete knew he was lying.

He'd been spoiled. Despite their on again, off again animosity, he and Bruce had found comfort in each others company during the last few days. Lex simply did not want to go home to an empty bed, nor did he want to stay up watching the progression of the spider as it made its way toward Las Vegas. He'd reviewed the tapes of Clark's battle with the first spider, and found no clues as to how it could be easily defeated. It seemed impervious to any attack, any weapon that anyone threw at it.

And it had killed Superman.

Lex's step faltered. He paused before the door to Clark's room, his hand on the knob. The weariness that had been dogging him for days was catching up to him. The ache in his chest was growing into a steady pain agonizingly reminiscent to the pain held once felt in his bad hand. It was the same hand now resting on the door. The prosthetic hand he now wore was virtually undetectable from his real one, but Lex knew what to look for and it bothered him. He'd taken to wearing a glove on it, so he himself wouldn't have to see it. He didn't care about anybody else.

Clark had chided him for it, calling him vain. Lex's reasons for disliking the fake hand were much more complex. It reminded him of his failures, his faults, and the fact that his cancer was not gone, only in remission. If he were to be reminded of these things, he did not want it to be a subtle reminder, but bold and in his face. He wanted the hand to look even more different, so he made it so, encasing it in black leather. He rarely took the glove off, even in bed. Clark used to make him take it off when they slept together, not liking the feel of the leather.

~~"It feels dead."~~

~~"It is dead."~~

~~"I mean the glove. The skin of the prosthesis doesn't feel like that, it feels real."~~

~~"You're being a baby."~~

~~"Touch a dead man's hand once, Lex, and you'll understand why I hate it."~~

Bruce hadn't cared.

Lex pushed open the door, silently peering inside. He expected Martha to be there, holding a silent vigil at Clark's side, but he did not see her. In fact, he saw nothing, only an empty bed and a trail of wires leading back to the monitors above the bed. They no longer made any sound. Lex's eyes were drawn back to them. They were flat-lined.

Flat-lined.

"No," he breathed. "No."

He jerked the door open and fled down the hall to where a bank of windows opened up on the small courtyard where they had been taking Clark for sunlight. Outside the sun was just rising, and the courtyard was deserted. Even the fountain was silent and still. Martha did not sit on the ledge reading. There was no gurney waiting there to catch the first light of dawn.

Lex let his head rest against the glass. It was cool against his skin. He shivered.

~~"He thought he was doing right by me, Clark."~~

~~"But he didn't."~~

~~"No, he didn't. But that doesn't erase the fact that in his own, warped way, he loved me. I guess in my own, warped way I loved him too."~~

~~"He'd yell at you for this, you know, lecture you for being overly emotional."~~

~~"It pissed him off when I broke down at my mother's funeral."~~

~~"Then I think you should shed a few tears for the old bastard. He'll be rolling around in his grave in outrage." ~~

~~"He'll be doing that anyway, when he looks up from the fiery pit and sees I've been sleeping with you for the last two years without his knowledge." ~~

~~"Ah, well then, cry your eyes out. Have a tissue."~~

~~"God, I love you, Clark."~~

Lex supposed that there was a point when one was past tears, when grief was so overwhelming it choked off any urge to weep, and despair suffocated one's ability to feel anything else. He had shed tears when his father died. Clark had been there to lend his support, never knowing he would be in the same situation a year later when Jonathan Kent passed away. Lex had not been there; by then, they'd already had their first nasty fight, after Lex discovered his father's files and cracked open Clark's secrets. Clark had his mother for support, and to support.

Now Lex remained dry eyed, and whether it was the grief, or simple exhaustion, he suddenly felt his strength draining from his body. He sagged against the window, praying for someone to make the pain stop. Behind closed eyes, all he could see were the flat lined monitors and the empty bed. All he could hear was Clark's voice repeating one of the last things he'd said during their last conversation.

~~"I will always love you."~~

"Lex?"

He opened his eyes. A reflection in the window glass showed him a blurred figure standing in the corridor behind him. He stared at it as it seemed to move closer, but he did not turn around.

"Lex, it's me."

Lex raised his head.

They stared at each other for a long moment, during which Lex's heartbeat increased to fill his chest with an odd staccato rhythm. His voice seemed to have left him. He tried to speak, and the words refused to come. A second attempt brought a spattering of words of denial.

But when he felt the brush of fingertips against his cheek, he gasped, and knew the truth.

"Clark."

"You okay?" Clark chuckled. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Bah-bastard!" Lex croaked. "You bastard! I thought you were dead."

"So did I for a while. Are you sure you're okay?"

Lex had double fistfulls of the white robe Clark wore, as if he were afraid letting go would allow Clark to escape from him. His body felt heavy, but Clark's hands on his elbows supported him easily. Lex could feel the strength in those hands, strength indicating a return to health. There was no flush of fever upon Clark's cheeks, nor a haze of pain within his eyes. His self-healing abilities had finally been able to do their work. Clark was whole again. He was alive.

Nodding, Lex let go of the robe. "You?"

"Stiff, a little sore, but getting there." He paused, his voice growing softer. "Thanks to you."

"I don't think it made much difference."

"I think it did. I know it did," Clark shook his head. "Lex...."

He broke off, his eyes finding Lex's and searching for something. What, Lex didn't know and didn't care. Whatever Clark had been going to say was lost.

"Lex," he whispered.

Lex turned his head, pressed his cheek into the fingers that rose to caress it, reveling in a touch he'd been longing for, inhaling Clark's scent as if it were a rare perfume. He felt Clark's hand move to the back of his neck, and then, without warning, Clark was kissing his mouth with every bit of the passion they'd ever shared.

That Lex wanted him, right then and there, was a given. His hands grasped at Clark's robes once again, pulling him in tightly. He pressed his body close to Clark's warm comforting bulk and never wanted to let go of him. Clark's fingers dug almost painfully into his arms. He didn't care. Gasping, he threw back his head, slightly dizzy from both lack of sleep and awakened desire, allowing Clark access to his throat. Had he not been so utterly weary he would have laughed with joy.

A short lived joy.

It was dark, battered, and often quite muddled between its definitions of right and wrong, but Lex did have a conscience. Clark was willing, Lex could tell, and it would be very easy to coerce him back to the penthouse and into bed. To lie next to Clark again, make love to him like they had so many times before, were desires Lex had harbored for very long time. He wanted Clark back more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.

"Bruce," he murmured.

"I'll talk to him," Clark's mouth was close to Lex's ear. "He'll understand...."

"No," Lex pushed away, wrenching himself out of Clark's grip. "Clark, another one of those things is on the loose. Bruce has gone after it."

"What?!"

Lex reeled a little. Clark put out a hand to steady him. "He'll kill himself, Clark. You have to stop him. But...."

Very few people knew that Clark Kent and Superman were the same person. Part of this was not only because the public Clark Kent was so radically different from Superman nobody would dream of making the connection. Part of it was also because they actually were two different people, at least in Lex's opinion. He'd never mentioned it to Clark, who would have pooh-poohed the idea, but Lex suspected he suffered from a mild form of multiple personality disorder. When Clark was "on" as Superman, Lex could tell a distinct difference between that persona and the Clark he'd known for fourteen years. Furthermore, on at least one occasion Clark had been completely oblivious of something he'd done as Superman. Comparing notes with Pete and Lana had solidified Lex's belief. Pete was skeptical, Lana was not.

Lex watched the change with an analytical eye. It was as if a switch had been flipped, turning off Clark's passion and leaving behind the cold, emotionless alien. He was suddenly all business, putting more distance between them, drawing himself straighter so that he actually seemed taller. Clark's benign expression hardened into something more dangerous.

"Where, Lex? Where is it?"

"Nevada. Clark, it almost killed you once." Lex reached out and grabbed him by the wrist as he started to move, interrupting his shift into "fast" mode. "To stop it, you have to get to the failsafe, under the upper carapace, but you'll never be able to get close enough without getting hurt again. The molecular structure of the metal is made up of several different extra-terrestrial elements, including Kryptonite."

"I stopped it before."

"And it almost killed you! Clark, you nearly died! Besides that, you didn't stop it. It stopped itself when you...." Lex cut himself off, raising his eyes up to Clark's. "It stopped itself," he repeated softly.

Clark frowned. "What? What is it?"

Lex shook his head and fumbled for his phone, flipping it open with a quick snap of his wrist he called Pete.

"Find out where they took the pieces of the first spider. I've got an idea."

"A weapon," Clark breathed. "Yes!"

Lex nodded. "A weapon."

It was like watching a buffalo hunt. Lex had seen re-enactments of Native American buffalo hunts, where the braves galloped across the plains at well over forty miles per hour on small, lithe ponies, chasing the lumbering giants. The men threw spears and shot arrows from horseback, dodging thrashing horns and pounding hooves, veering away after their first shot, then returning for another.

Clark had two "lances" made up from leg parts of the first spider. He'd lashed them to the landing struts of Bruce's helicopter and the two of them had given chase. Diana still flew behind them, the video camera in the nose of her plane sending back images to Lex's monitoring equipment. He sat in enthroned in his office before the bank of monitors, watching this battle as he'd done the first.

They very nearly failed on the first assault, a practice run designed to see how close they could get before being fired upon. One blast just missed the Batcopter's tail. The second hit Clark, a glancing blow across the chest, spinning him around and slamming him into the side of Bruce's vehicle. Even with the poor view Lex had (Diana could only get so close herself), he could see Bruce struggling to keep his plane under control. Clark had left a dent in the helicopter's black steel and the blow had left a dent in Clark. He recovered much more slowly than he should have.

He's not one hundred percent. He shouldn't be out there any more than Bruce.

Lex scowled uneasily.

Clark wasn't going to give up, he never did. The "weapons" he and Lex had come up with were nothing more than shrapnel from the first robot, jagged pieces of its severed limbs. They were probably the only things that could puncture the thing's armor. As a backup plan, Clark had stashed inside Bruce's helicopter a specially designed cutting blade that had been used in the manufacture of the robot. To utilize this weapon, however, Clark would have to be right on top of the spider, a place he didn't want to have to be if he could help it.

The trace amounts of Kryptonite in the metal were not enough to make Clark ill, or decrease his powers significantly, but it did make their makeshift spears a bit difficult for him to handle. Besides being naturally unwieldy, they seemed to be quite heavy. Lex could see him struggling to remove the first from the landing struts. Of course, flying next to a helicopter trying to untie knotted ropes couldn't be easy, either.

~~"Fly?"~~

~~"Fly."~~

~~"Jesus, Clark. Why didn't you tell me?"~~

~~"I thought it would freak you out."~~

~~"It does freak me out. I saw you zip past the window and thought I was hallucinating. Then I read the headlines - I have to say I have issues with the name they've cooked up for you. Superman? Sounds like something you'd hear in a porn movie. Oh yeah, here he comes, Superman. You know why they call him 'super', don't you?"~~

~~"Lex..."~~

~~"Whoa! Hmm, baby! Look at that package. Spandex leaves very little to the imagination, doesn't it, I can see every ridge and wrinkle...."~~

~~"Cut it out!"~~

~~"Made you laugh. Now about this flying thing."~~

~~"It isn't a thing, it just is, and don't grill me on how it works, I've not quite figured it out completely yet. I just sort of do it."~~

~~"I don't know, Clark. I think I can deal with the speed, the strength, and the ocular aberrations...."~~

~~"Ocular aberrations?" ~~

~~"But flying? That's just - very odd."~~

~~"I have another one I never told you about."~~

~~"Oh, great. What next? Do you shoot slime out your fingertips?"~~

~~"No, hold still."~~

~~"....."~~

~~"Like it?"~~

~~"Shit. What was that?" ~~

~~"I can reduce the temperature of my breath anywhere from just a shade under body temp to about ten degrees below freezing."~~

~~"Intriguing. Do it again."~~

~~"Ha, you've got goose pimples."~~

~~"Okay, now that I like. It's - sexy." ~~

~~"And you think I'm odd?"~~

Clark managed to untie the first "spear" and hoisted it onto his shoulder, dropping away from the helicopter as Bruce adjusted to the change in ballast. The 'copter wavered a bit in the air and then righted itself. Lex followed the flash of sunlight glinting off the metal weapon, watching Clark speed ahead of the spider crawling along the desert floor beneath him. He flew around in front of it, and balancing the spear over his shoulder like an Olympian preparing for a javelin throw, he stood poised against the bright backdrop of the sky.

The sight was almost surreal, reminding Lex of something straight from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Clark looked like a painting rendered upon a bright blue canvas. His long hair whipped around his face, stirred by the hot desert winds, his cape rose into the air behind him, swirling around in the air like blood upon water. Every muscle in his body was frozen, braced for his first throw. Lex could not see his face save in his own imagination, but he knew it bore a very familiar look of determination.

Suddenly, almost too quickly for Lex to follow, Clark's body flexed, his arm snapping forward to hurl the bright lance at the creature below. It cut through the sky toward what seemed to be an impossibly small target. Clark's follow through sent him arcing around himself in a shallow dive, then back up again to see what damage he'd done. He hovered in the air watching as the creature detected the oncoming assault. It fired.

The blast hit the spear but did not destroy it. It did, however, alter its trajectory slightly. Instead of punching right through the carapace as Clark had planned, it skimmed over the top. It did not penetrate, but opened a long gash in the top, exposing the delicate electronics inside to the open air - and to further attacks. The robotic spider paused in its advance toward Las Vegas. It sat motionless for several seconds, then gave a little shudder, as if shaking itself off.

As they watched, a pale light issued from beneath its body and began moving all around as if seeking something. It was seeking the source of the attack.

"Move." Lex hissed. "Clark, you idiot. Get out of the way!"

The laser fired. Clark dodged at the last minute. A second blast was released straight for Bruce, who put the helicopter into steep bank away. He wasn't going to be fast enough to avoid getting hit by at least a glancing blow. It would be enough to down him. The resulting impact would no doubt kill him.

Clark was there in a flash of red and blue, angling his body between the deadly ray and the helicopter, which tilted so radically in the air, Bruce was already fighting to keep airborne. The laser hit Clark in the left side, spinning him around in the air as it was deflected up into the sky and safely away from Bruce. His body spun dizzily around within the frame, the picture changing angles wildly as Diana was forced to put her jet in a circling pattern around the stalled spider. The camera panned to stay focused on Clark. Lex saw him fall.

His jaw clenched. Bruce was becoming a liability.

The view on the monitors suddenly wavered, blurring as the picture flickered in and out on the screens. It took Lex a moment to realize Diana had been fired upon as well. For several seconds all he could see was white vapor and blue sky.

"No, damnit! No!"

His phone beeped. He scrambled for it, punching the handset so that Diana's voice filled his office. The signal was filled with static and hard to hear. She was shouting above the roar of her plane's engines.

"I've had to go higher. It detected me. I'm going to have to back off as long as it's stationary."

"Where's Clark?"

"I don't know. I'm in a pretty thick patch of cloud cover right now, and I'd already lost sight of him when that piece of junk shot at me." She cursed in her native language, a strange amalgam of Latin, Greek and something else Lex didn't recognize. "I can't see. I'm going back down."

She ended the transmission. Lex turned his gaze back to the monitors and saw the vapor dispersing, leaving behind only clear blue sky....

And a familiar blue and red costume.

Clark rose up from the desert dodging a rapid volley of laser fire, one fist held out before him, ascending like a rocket. Diana banked, easing back out of firing range, but continued to circle the scene. In front of her, Bruce's black helicopter was also circling. Clark retreated to the same orbit. Below them, the spider started moving again.

Lex could see Clark struggling to catch his breath as he drew alongside the Batcopter. This was how the last battle had played out, with Clark falling victim to a busted rib almost immediately. The difference here was that his reserves were already half what he'd started with then. To have him barely survive the first battle, only to be killed in the second, seemed hardly fair.

He was untying the second spear from the helicopter. It had turned and resumed a flight parallel to that of the robot while Diana resumed her position behind. Lex's view of Clark was partially blocked by the body of Bruce's helicopter; he could only see the edge of the red cape. Only when Clark had untied the spear and veered off with it could Lex see him more clearly. The wound in his side was more than a broken rib. It was an ugly, bloody, gash.

Clark gripped his weapon in both hands this time, holding it out before him more like a lance than a spear or a javelin. Lex smiled faintly as he saw his lips move in a three count, then he frowned when Clark dropped down into a sharp dive. This time, he had no intention of missing his target. He wasn't going to throw the weapon, he was going to drive it home by hand.

The descent was faster than that of any bird of prey's power dive. Clark's body cut through the air in a blur of speed, distinguished only by the red of his cape against the bright blue sky. Lex found himself holding his breath.

A bolt of light shot up from the spider. There was a flash of silver and the bolt was diverted up into the sky where it failed to make contact with anything but air. Clark had deflected the blast by swinging the leg he held like a baseball bat. He deflected another, and another, getting closer and closer to his opponent with every second. The spider's legs and tail began flailing when Clark became too close for a good aim with the laser. One caught him a glancing blow, but it was by then too late.

The spear ripped through the wound in the spider's carapace, through the electronics that made up not only the failsafe mechanism but the very "heart" of the creature. It drove down through its body and pinned it to the desert floor, very much like its companion had impaled Clark atop a roof in Metropolis. Sparks flew as the spider shook within the throes of death.

Like its companion, it also took one final strike. The spiked tail lashed out in a last ditch effort to destroy its enemy. Clark moved out of its way so he would not be stabbed, but the side of the tail caught him in the back, flinging him down hard into the dusty ground where he lay motionless. Lex's fingers dug into the smooth surface of his desk.

"Get up. Get up!"

On the screen, the spider exploded, bursting apart like an over-ripe melon dropped from a roof. Pieces of it bloomed upward and outward in a glittering metallic fountain, raining down onto the sand. Fire licked the remaining core, and once again, Lex's view was obliterated by smoke. Diana circled, and called him.

"Did you see that?"

"Yes. Clark...."

"I think he was just stunned. Bruce is landing down there now."

"I can't see for the smoke. Is he okay?"

Diana did not answer right away. Frustrated, Lex rose from his chair and went to stand before the monitors, squinting at the scene before him, trying to pick out some sign of Clark within the black greasy smoke boiling around the ground. There was a burst of flame and another, smaller, explosion. He thought he saw Bruce's helicopter land in a swirl of smoke.

"Wonder Woman?"

Finally, Diana's voice came over the speakers. She sounded more than a little relieved herself.

"He's fine. Just a little rattled."

Lex shook his head grimly. Superman being a little rattled was a frightening thought. He stalked back to his phone and made his reply.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The transmission ended. Lex looked back at the monitors and saw the cloud of smoke growing larger as Diana descended. As she landed, he caught a glimpse of Clark and Bruce standing next to the helicopter, bookends of dark and light, long capes fluttering around their ankles as they watched the plane land before them.

Partners.

~~"We cover each other's backs. That's what partners do..."~~

Lex picked up a remote from his desk, and turned off the monitors.

"You work quickly."

Lex looked up from his reading. He'd not heard the elevator ascending, nor the doors as Bruce entered the penthouse, but then Bruce was adept at sneaking around silently. It was part of his job, his other job, aside from being a billionaire industrialist. Lex suspected it was the businessman who was talking.

"You read my proposal."

"Yes, I did," Bruce said, moving into the room just as quietly as he'd arrived. "Taking on the federal government is a new venture for Lex Corp. I have to say I'm impressed."

"If they can't produce a decent orbital defense system that doesn't go berserk and try to destroy things it's supposed to protect, someone has to, and why can't that someone be from the private sector?" Lex shrugged. "Plus, I think developing a technology more powerful than Superman is cutting our nose off to spite our face."

Bruce nodded slightly. "Supposedly we don't need an orbital defense system anyway, considering the number of cities with 'superheroes' running around. Clark and I have been discussing some sort of defense system of our own. Wonder Woman has already expressed interest, and so has Green Lantern."

Lex set down his book and took up his scotch, peering at Bruce over the lip of his glass as he drank. "What are you going to call yourselves?" he asked as he put the glass down again. "The Spandex Club? The Superfriends?"

"The Justice League."

"Quaint."

"Clark's idea."

"Clark the idealist, the eternal optimist. Sweet, naive, Clark." Lex murmured.

From Bruce's lack of immediate response, Lex assumed his hadn't heard, but a glance over at his face indicated that he had. He was simply taking time to choose his words carefully, time in which Lex was content to wait. Picking up his glass again, he swirled its contents around, watching the play of light inside as the liquid and ice danced and spun. He didn't really care if Bruce continued or if he turned around and walked back out the door.

"He doesn't understand why you won't return his calls, Lex."

"I sent a letter. Has he lost the ability to read?"

"He hasn't been home," Bruce said quietly. "He told Lois and Perry he'd been in Brazil going after a story and was still working on it. He's been in Gotham."

"With you."

"With me."

Lex looked over at his guest. "Then that should tell you, at least, why I'm not returning his calls."

"Jealous?"

"Magnanimous," Lex stated, and took a long pull from his glass. "He's all yours, Bruce."

Bruce shifted his weight uneasily and put his hands in his trouser pockets. "Look, you know all this has been really - confusing - on a lot of different levels. Maybe we should...."

"I'm not confused," Lex interrupted. "Are you? Clark left me two years ago, Bruce. This past week hasn't changed anything."

"It changed me," Bruce whispered.

Halting the rise of his glass again, Lex set it down and rose to his feet. He circled the long expanse of his sofa and came to stand before the other man, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. "That is no concern of mine," he said coldly.

Flinching, Bruce's brow dipped. For a moment, he was startled, but then his surprise turned to anger and his expression hardened into one with which Lex was more familiar. He stared at Lex for a moment longer, before turning on his heel with a quick jerk. Lex did not watch him go, but this time he heard the doors to the elevator close, and the machine begin to descend.

Quietly he returned to his seat where he refilled his glass, and drank.

We made a mess of things, you and I, and I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm not sure what it means. What I am sure of is that a debt has been paid, and now perhaps a door needs to be closed. I'm closing that door, Clark, for Bruce's sake, and my own.