Notes: Many many thanks to my wonderful, brilliant betas!

Stone Princess - who had to put up with all my whining, angsting, hand-wringing and all other such dramas while providing endless amounts of encouragement. She has the patience of a saint.

Rhiannonhero - who took the time to seriously consider all things plot. She went above and beyond in analyzing what worked and what didn't, swooping in all deus ex machina-like and saving me when I got stuck. I owe her much.

Emelerin - who provided colorful commentary, while taking a step back to look at the story as a whole. She made sure that all my attempts at being clever actually panned out, which I appreciate. She is, indeed, a meta master beta.

Shelley - who was my army of one, my first line of defense. She audienced every section of the first three parts for me. She read through them bit by bit as I wrote, correcting all my stupid mistakes and soothing the savage beast that is my writer's ego. She never lost her temper or enthusiasm, no matter how many times I mixed up "your" and "you're".

Disclaimer: If you recognize 'em, they're probably not mine. If you wanted to give them to me, though, they would not be refused. Except for Lana. You can keep her.

Feedback: Oh please! I will resort to gratuitous begging if necessary. Please please please let me know what you think! The good the bad and the squee-worthy! All comments and criticisms welcome!

Summary: In Crush Pamela says, " I was too scared to even tell just once how much you mean to me. How much I wanted to help you grow up." Lex replies by saying, "I wish you had. I might be a better man."

This is only a possibility in a world of possibilities There are-- Obviously there are many possibilities Ranging from small to large
Before long there will be short
Before short there was nothing
When there was nothing there was always the possibility of something Becoming what it is

Prologue

Metropolis, Kansas, 1979

Lillian stared at the man in front of her, disbelieving. What had happened to the man she had fallen in love with? The one who brought her flowers, whispered sweet things in her ear as they made love, the one who told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world? There wasn't a trace of him in the cold businessman speaking to her now.

"I'm sorry, Lillian, but I'm not sure what you're expecting. Do you need money for an-- operation?" Lionel asked.

She crossed her arms over her stomach protectively. "How could you ask me something like that? I thought--" She felt the tears welling in her eyes, but she vowed not to let them spill over. Lionel would not see her cry. "You said you were going to leave her," she whispered.

Lionel's smile was gentle and terribly cold. "That wouldn't really make much sense, would it? Lauren is the mother of my first born son and a very understanding wife. It would hardly be fair to leave her for a girl who doesn't even have the sense not to get pregnant while having an affair with a married man."

"I see," she said quietly, proud that her voice didn't waver. "I won't bother you again."

A Ranch in Montana, later that day

"Pam?" Lily's voice sounded tinny and distant over the phone line.

"Lily, how are you?" Pam asked, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. The last time they had spoken, Lily told Pam that their relationship was over and that Lily was leaving Pam for Lionel. That had been three months ago.

"You were right. God, I'm so sorry, Pam. You were right." It sounded like Lily was crying.

"Oh, baby, what is it? What happened?" Pam asked, heart in her throat. Despite what had happened between them, Pam was still in love with Lily and her need to protect Lily was immediate and instinctive.

"I'm pregnant."

"And Lionel isn't going to leave his wife," Pam finished, not at all surprised. The man was a first class bastard. She felt guilty for the little moment of petty satisfaction that shot through her, knowing that she had been right. Part of her wanted Lily to hurt, to know how it felt to be the one betrayed.

"No, he isn't." There was a long pause before Lily spoke again. "I want to keep my baby, Pam."

In the end, however, there wasn't even a question of what she would do. Pam had been hurt, but her feelings hadn't changed. "The offer still stands, Lil'. Come to the ranch. We can be a family, the three of us. And my parents are here; they can help us. You know how much my parents love you." Her heart thudded loudly in her ears as she waited for Lily's answer.

"You would take me back, just like that? After everything I did?" Lily asked.

"I want you here," Pam said. "I'm not saying things will be great right away, but I'm willing to work on it."

"I am too." Lily laughed a little. "Okay. We're going to Montana."

Pam pictured Lily saying the last statement to her stomach, the baby already a presence in their lives, already making them a family. "I can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see you either," Lily whispered back.

Montana, 1980

"Are you going to come to bed anytime soon?"

Lily sighed as warm arms wrapped around her waist. "Soon," she said. "As soon as he stops being so amazing." She stroked the fine red hair gently, unable to take her eyes off of the tiny baby lying in the crib, she hadn't been able to ever since they'd brought him home from the hospital; he was so completely captivating.

"I don't think that'll happen anytime this century," Pam teased softly as she looked down at their son. "He really is beautiful. He looks just like you."

"You think?" Lily asked, secretly glad. She didn't want him to resemble Lionel at all. Alexander belonged to her and Pam now. He was a Jenkins, not a Luthor. If Lillian had her way, which she intended to, Alexander would never be a Luthor.

"You're worried," Pam said. From the tone of her voice, Lily could tell it wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Don't be." Pam hugged her tighter. "We're gonna do all right, you'll see." Pam reached out and rested her hand lightly on Alexander's stomach. "Our son will be happy."

"Promise?" Lily asked.

"Promise," Pam said. "Now come to bed."

Metropolis, Kansas, 1983

Lionel ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he studied the resumes in front of him. This would be the third caretaker that they'd hired this month. It was one of the many times that Lionel was sure he'd made a mistake in sending Lillian away.

His decision had been a strategic one at the time. The affair with Lily had been a whim, something Lionel hadn't been able to deny himself, but something he hadn't been willing to sacrifice his marriage for. How was he to know that Liam would be such a sickly child? He had just been a baby when Lily had gotten pregnant.

Lionel allowed himself a moment of indulgence as he closed his eyes and imagined Lily. She'd been so beautiful, so young and spirited with the most gorgeous red hair that he'd ever seen. Lionel had always had a weakness for redheads.

It didn't really matter at this point, he supposed. Lauren was a good wife, easy to control. If only their son wasn't so pathetically weak. Lionel was ashamed to admit the boy was his.

"Excuse me, sir." A woman's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm Rachel Dunlevy, I'm here for the caretaker position."

"Ah, Mrs. Dunlevy." Lionel looked at the resume in his hand and then looked up, smiling at the lovely young woman in front of him.

"Miss, actually," she said, tucking a strand of long red hair behind her ear. "But please, call me Rachel."

"Rachel," Lionel repeated, trying to hide a wolfish grin. "I have a few questions for you, but everything so far looks very promising."

Metropolis, Kansas, 1989

Lionel sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he considered his options. He would have to proceed carefully from here, although he really couldn't have planned things any better if he'd tried.

Liam had been killed by a freak meteor shower while on a business trip with his father. A farmer and his wife had rushed Lionel and Liam to the hospital, but it had been too late. To the world, Liam's death was an unfortunate accident; to Lionel, it was the perfect opportunity to choose a more worthy heir.

On the one hand, Lily's boy was the oldest. However, that meant that Lionel would have to spend more time training him. Rachel's son was younger, which meant he was more impressionable, easier to mold into what Lionel needed him to be.

"Everyone has gone home," Lauren said quietly as she walked into the office. "I told them you were overcome with grief."

He raised an eyebrow at the caustic tone of her voice. "I've decided that Lucas should come live with us."

Lauren blinked at him, the color slowly draining from her face and then returning in a rush of angry red. "Your son's body is barely in the ground and you're already planning to replace him? If you think I'm going to raise one of your bastards, you're completely delusional!"

"Don't be so dramatic." Lionel waved a hand, dismissing her outburst. "Besides, I have the feeling that Rachel Dunlevy is becoming unstable and is no longer fit to raise a child." It would be easy enough for Lionel to get Rachel put away somewhere. "It would be remiss of me to leave a child of mine in her custody."

"You can't be serious."

He shrugged. "Of course, maybe all she needs is to be married to the father of her son." He let the implication hang in the air, knowing that Lauren would concede. It was one of the reasons he'd married her. She rarely let her emotions get in the way of her more pragmatic nature.

"That won't be necessary," Lauren said quietly after a long pause. "I would be thrilled if Lucas would come and live with us."

Lionel smiled, nodding slowly. "That's what I thought." There was just one more thing he had to do.

Montana

Pam put down the bowl she was washing and wiped her wet hands on her jeans before reaching to pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Is this Pamela Jenkins?" The man on the other end of the line asked.

"It is," Pam answered, glancing out the window to see Alex and Lily returning from their ride.

"Wonderful. I'd like to speak to you about Alexander."

Pam felt her blood run cold at the man's statement. "Who is this?" she asked slowly.

"This is Lionel Luthor, the boy's father."

She could practically hear his smug smile. "What do you want?" Her knuckles were white where she clutched the phone too tightly, her other hand wrapped in the cord. She had to consciously refrain from pulling too hard and disconnecting the call.

"Now, now. There's no need to get defensive. I just wanted to talk to you about setting up some sort of trust fund for him. I'd like to make sure that my son is being provided for."

"We're providing for him just fine," Pam said, her voice pitched low in an effort to keep it from wavering. "We don't want anything from you. Your help is neither needed, nor welcome."

Lionel laughed. "Certainly you don't have a problem with me giving the boy money. After all, it's not like I'm trying to take him away from you. Although..." he paused. "...I wonder what the courts would decide, if they had to choose. Would they leave the boy with two women involved in a rather questionable relationship, or would they give him to his father to raise in a traditional family environment?"

Pam closed her eyes, leaning against the counter for support. "What would this trust fund involve?" she asked finally.

"Ms. Jenkins, I'm wounded that you would try and read some ulterior motive into my request. I only wanted to set something up for him, money that he's entitled to as my son. He can use it for college or whatever else he desires when he comes of age. You would, of course, be custodian of the money until that time, in case you needed to access it beforehand for whatever reason. What could you possibly object to?"

Pam couldn't figure out Lionel's angle. She had secretly been waiting for the other shoe to drop since she'd read about Liam Luthor's death, but she had hoped that after all these years Lionel would leave them in peace. Wanting to start a trust for Alex didn't make sense. It seemed too generous a thing for Lionel Luthor to do. If he didn't want custody of Alex, what did he want?

"I can set it up so that Lillian wouldn't have to know about our arrangement," Lionel said. "I just want to help my son. I can go through all the proper legal channels if you'd prefer, I simply thought this arrangement would be-- easier."

His voice carried an implicit threat and Pam was loath to see if he would carry through with it. She bowed her head. What choice did she have?

Part One

Come and see
I swear by now I'm playing time against my troubles

Montana, 1993

Lillian's death was quiet and Pam wondered if it wasn't almost worse in a way, to have it be so anticlimactic. The only thing that marked her passing was the change in the heart monitor, the conspicuous lack of a steady beat. No rush of doctors and nurses to bring her back; they had their DNR orders.

Alex looked up from where he was sitting beside the hospital bed and frowned at the machine. The blank look in his eyes when he turned to Pam was almost more than she could handle. He quietly set down the comic book he'd been reading and walked over to Lily's side.

"Momma." He tapped her shoulder lightly. "You have to wake up now. Please?" he whispered brokenly. "I have to tell you...something. So you have to wake up, okay?"

Pam walked over to him, unable to bear his quiet pleading. "Alex." She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked away.

"Don't." He hugged his arms close to his body, like he was trying to contain himself. "Just wake her up, okay? I have to tell her something." They both turned to the door as Pam's parents walked into the room.

"Sweetheart," she started as Alex shook his head in denial. "She's not going to wake up."

She watched Alex turn to her parents and then back to her and then to the bed where Lily was laying, his jaw set in an angry line. "Fine! Don't wake up! See if I care!" He turned and ran out of the room.

"Dad." Pam turned to her father helplessly.

"I'll take him home," her dad said quietly. "Take your time."

Pam sat down in the chair Alex had been occupying, utterly exhausted. Lily had been sick for so long and now that it was over, Pam felt...empty. The doctors hadn't been able to do much of anything in the end. Pam had contacted all the specialists she could find using the money Lionel had sent to cover the extra costs. Nothing had worked and now Lily was gone.

Now Pam had Alex. He'd grown so quiet over the duration of Lily's illness. He'd gone from a vibrant, happy, healthy little boy to a reserved, introverted youth that looked at the world with eyes far older than his thirteen years. He walked around like he bore the weight of the world on his thin little shoulders and Pam didn't know what to do to change that. She didn't know how to make that haunted look leave his eyes.

But she had to try, for Lily and for Alex.

"Alex," his mom called out. "Are you up here?" He only had one mom now, just like the other kids.

Alex sighed. "Yeah, I'm here." He was wedged into the far corner of the loft in the barn, picking absently at a hangnail. Part of him had always wanted to be just like the other kids.

"Your grandfather was worried about you. He didn't know where you'd gone off to," she scolded lightly as she sat down next to him.

"I just wanted to be alone for a little while." He'd gotten his wish; it was all his fault.

"Oh, honey." His mom reached out to touch him, but Alex jerked away.

"Don't." He shrank away from her touch, wrapping his arms around his legs and now he felt guilty because his mom thought he was mad at her. "I mean, I just..." He closed his eyes and hugged his legs a little tighter. He had tried to fix it, had spent so much time at the library reading books, talking to doctors and nurses and anyone else who would pay attention to him and his desperate attempt to find a cure.

"It's okay to be upset, Alex, but sometimes it helps to talk to somebody. You can talk to me if you want." She sounded so concerned and that only made him feel worse.

His stomach churned, misery and guilt mixing and eating away at his insides. What would she think of him if she knew the truth? She would hate him, would make him leave. He deserved to have to leave. "It's my fault," he finally admitted, opening his eyes to gauge her reaction.

She looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't mean to. I didn't even really know. It's just sometimes I wanted to be like the other kids with a normal family, but I didn't realize." He started gasping as his lungs refused to work properly. He patted down his pockets and pulled out his inhaler, taking a hit before continuing. "But then I tried to make it better, but I couldn't fix it. It was too late and now she's gone and it's all my fault."

"Oh, baby." His mom pulled him into her arms, despite his struggles. "Honey, it's not your fault, you can't ever think that."

"But it is," he insisted. "If I'd been better--"

"No. Alex, listen to me. Her death isn't your fault. It isn't anybody's fault. There is nothing you or the doctors or I could have done. Do you hear me?" She shook him a little.

Alex shook his head. "But I--"

"No!" She cut him off again. "None of this is your fault, Alex. Your mother loved you so much, she would be so sad to know you blamed yourself."

Alex could feel himself breaking, everything was slipping out of his control and it all just hurt. "I miss her so much." And he couldn't hold it in anymore. He pressed his face against his mom's shoulder and cried, great sobs wracking his body until every part of him was throbbing with a sharp ache.

"I know, I know," his mom soothed, rubbing his back gently. "I miss her too. But we'll get through this. It will just take some time."

Montana, 1995

Lionel walked through the crowded coffeehouse, ignoring the sea of people that parted before him. He paused, taking a sip of his coffee as he scanned the crowd. He took a moment to frown down at the paper cup he was holding. It wasn't anything like the cappuccinos he'd had in the little cafe near his hotel on his most recent trip to Rome, but he supposed that most people wouldn't know the difference.

He smiled a second later as he spotted the boy he'd been looking for. It was probably a bad idea for him to be here; it certainly wasn't necessary. Lionel had been keeping track of Alexander since he was a baby, but he'd felt a whim to speak to his son, and quite frankly, Lionel Luthor was a man used to doing what he wanted.

Luckily, the lack of free tables in the cafe gave Lionel a reasonable excuse to initiate contact. "Is this seat taken?" he asked.

Alexander looked up from the book he was reading and smiled politely. "No, not at all."

"Edith Hamilton, Mythology," Lionel said, nodding at the book as he sat down in the vacant armchair. "School or pleasure?"

"School." He shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you..."

"Alex," he said with another polite smile. "And don't worry about it. I think I need to take a few minutes to digest what I just read. Talk about dysfunctional families."

Lionel smiled as he studied Alex, seeking some part of himself, some sign that the boy was a Luthor. "What family is that?"

"The house of Atreus," Alex said, frowning at the book for a moment.

"Ah." Lionel tapped his fingers against his cup and smiled. "Yes, that family was rather unfortunate, wasn't it? Their problems started with Tantalus, I believe? It's a classic example of the sins of the father being visited upon the son."

Alex nodded. "The curse followed several generations until Orestes, who killed his mother to avenge his father's death. He admitted his guilt and sought to be cleansed. It was the first time anyone from the House of Atreus had made an admission of wrong-doing."

"And thus Athena forgave him and persuaded the furies to do so as well. They acquitted him of his crimes, breaking the curse that had been held over the house for so long," Lionel finished.

"You know your mythology," Alex said with a smile.

The expression reminded Lionel of Lillian. Alex had the same deep blue eyes, the same perfectly shaped mouth. He was definitely his mother's son. "You would be surprised at how useful knowing your classics can be."

Alex raised an eyebrow, shooting Lionel a look of tolerant amusement that drove any doubt from Lionel's mind that the boy was his. It was a patently Luthor expression. "I'm sure I would be."

Lionel made a show of checking his watch. "Oh, my. I have an appointment to get to. It was nice talking to you, Alex. I'll let you get back to your studies."

Alex simply nodded, a speculative look in his eyes.

Overall, Lionel was rather pleased with the encounter. Alex seemed to have a shrewd intelligence; he was polite but not completely trusting. He definitely had potential.

"Mom, I'm home," Alex called out as he set his backpack down on the kitchen table. "Mom?"

"I'm right here, no need to yell," his mom said, swatting him with a dishtowel as she walked into the room. "How was Starbucks? Did you get your reading done?" There was a teasing tone in her voice.

Alex grinned ruefully. Ever since he'd gotten his license, he'd insisted that Starbucks was more conducive to studying, even though they both knew it was just an excuse to drive somewhere. "Crowded. I got some of it done." He lifted the lid off the pot on the stove to see what they were having for dinner. "Lentils?" He wrinkled his nose.

"Get away from there." His mom grabbed the lid from him and set it back on the pot. "Lentils are good for you. And why only some of it? You know the deal, Alexander. If you don't get your homework done there, you'll need to start doing it at home again."

"I got most of it done. But then some guy sat down and started talking to me."

"Some guy?" she asked archly.

Alex blushed. He was pretty sure his mom knew he liked boys, but it wasn't something they'd ever talked about. Just the thought of having that discussion with her mortified him. "Some older guy. A businessman or something." He was surprised to find his mom frowning when he looked up.

"I don't want you talking to strange men, Alex."

"C'mon, Mom. It wasn't that big of a deal." He didn't want to admit to his mom that the whole situation had been disconcerting. There was something about the way the man had been studying him that had made Alex extremely uncomfortable. "He was just interested in mythology and he noticed what I was reading, that's all."

As much as Alex loved his mom, he was annoyed at how overprotective she got. Every bit of independence he gained, he had to fight for. He wasn't about to let one slightly creepy middle-aged businessman ruin that.

His mom was still frowning. "I just worry about you, sweetie, that's all."

"I know, Mom, but I can handle myself. Honestly, what do you have to be worried about?"

"Nothing, I suppose." Her smile looked strained. "Maybe I'm just upset that my baby's all grown up." She made a show of wiping tears from her eyes. "Come here and give your mother a hug," she said dramatically.

Alex rolled his eyes but couldn't keep from laughing. "Stay away from me, crazy lady!"

She winked at him. "Go finish your reading. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

"All right." He shouldered his backpack and headed off to his room, pushing the afternoon's incident from his mind.

Montana, 1996

Alex studied his reading selection, trying to decide what kind of mood he was in. He had more books in the house, but he didn't want to go inside to get one. Shortly after he'd started high school, with his mom's permission, his grandpa had helped him transform half of the loft in the barn to what Alex refused to call a fort anywhere but in his mind.

The whole project would have been a lot more fun if his grandpa hadn't kept saying things about every young man needing somewhere he could be alone. "Alone time" was one of those things he never wanted to have to discuss with his grandpa. Ever. It was just...wrong.

They had put a futon in the loft so he could sleep there during the summer when the weather was nice. The back wall was lined with a bunch of crates that he used as bookshelves, filled with almost every type of book imaginable.

Alex loved books and he wasn't a very picky reader. He had everything from Homer and Virgil to Stephen King and John Grisham. His mom would tease him about it, asking him if he wanted her to pick up some romance novels at the store, just to make sure he was well rounded. Her comments always embarrassed him.

Once, he had let his curiosity get the better of him and he'd borrowed a romance novel from his friend Meg. The whole experience was rather traumatic. It had been some time-traveling thing where the girl went back to ancient Rome and then had a lot of sex with a guy who found her and took her as a slave. Meg had said; "It's historical." Alex had been a little wary about her definition of history since then.

He wondered if women really liked stuff like that. Why was the dashing hero so emphatically hairy? Alex preferred less hairy guys. Well, in theory anyway. He didn't have a lot of experience. Or any at all, really. He hadn't exactly come out to anyone yet. Not even his family, although he was pretty sure they wouldn't really care. It was just that being gay in high school wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world, especially when most of his classmates knew that his mom was gay, too. Add to all that the fact that he was the one who always destroyed the grading curves and he was thrice damned. He figured that it would just easier to wait until he got to college to date.

Alex sighed and studied the titles in front of him for about the fiftieth time. He had been planning on reading something academic, but he wasn't really in the mood anymore. Instead, he pulled out the first book of "Power Failure". It was a four part Warrior Angel series that was outside the current Warrior Angel timeline.

The premise was that a blackout short-circuited Professor Johnston's alarm clock the day that Warrior Angel arrived on Earth. Therefore, the Professor was late and didn't find Warrior Angel like he was supposed to. Instead, a secret government organization found him and captured him for scientific experiments.

Without Warrior Angel, Devilicus was ruling the Guardian Realm alone. Because he didn't have the option of combining his power with Warrior Angel's, he was never tempted to try and conquer humanity. Instead, he spent so much time saving people that he came to care for humanity a great deal and, in fact, became their greatest champion.

When Devilicus found out about the secret government lab that was holding Warrior Angel, he fought to free him and was eventually successful. Devilicus brought Warrior Angel to the Guardian Realm and helped him heal. They became best friends and helped to save humanity together.

Alex thought parts of the plot were overly simplistic, but he secretly really liked the whole story line. He liked the idea that one thing could so drastically alter the whole universe. For whatever reason, the idea of a universe with infinite possibilities comforted Alex. It was always alternately happy and depressing that Devilicus didn't become a criminal mastermind. It made the current incarnation of Devilicus more tragic somehow, more sympathetic. Alex also found it ironic that it was actually the lack of Warrior Angel's presence up to a certain point in Devilicus' life that kept him from turning evil.

"Rowr?" Sandy, their barn cat blinked up at him, one paw resting lightly on the futon.

"Hey, girl," Alex said, reaching out to scratch behind her ear. When he was younger, he'd been allergic, but his allergies along with his asthma had seemed to disappear as he got older, for the most part anyway. He still had his inhaler, but he hadn't used it in over a year.

Taking his scratching as permission, Sandy hopped onto the futon and curled up against Alex's hip, purring happily. He continued his petting distractedly as he read.

After he finished the first book he tucked it back into the appropriate crate and stood up, stretching lazily, which earned him a disgruntled look from the cat. He usually spent the first few days of summer vacation doing absolutely nothing until his mom caught on to the fact that he was slacking off and doubled his chores.

He climbed down from the loft and turned to go toward the house, promptly bumping into someone.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, buddy, I...Alex?"

Alex opened his mouth to speak, closed it and then opened it again. "Jake," he finally croaked out. "Hey."

Jake had been coming to work on the ranch every summer since Alex was ten. He was a few years older than Alex, twenty-one this year if Alex remembered correctly. It was because of Jake that Alex had first started to realize that he wasn't entirely straight. Alex wasn't sure how any guy could be entirely straight around Jake.

Jake was gorgeous, with warm brown eyes and a friendly smile. He was cool and older and he'd always treated Alex like an equal. It was with the onset of puberty and more than one wet dream starring Jake, however, that Alex began to suspect that 'hero-worship' didn't quite cover his feelings.

"Hey!" Jake smiled, a beautiful flash of white teeth and Alex felt his heart skip a beat. "I hardly recognized you! Wow, you look...all grown up."

Alex smiled, ducking his head a little. "Yeah, it was bound to happen sometime. When did you get into town?"

"This morning." Jake ran a hand through his thick blond hair.

Alex watched the way the muscle flexed on his forearm and wondered how Jake could be that tan at the beginning of the summer. For his part, Alex didn't so much tan as burn. Thus he was doomed to paleness year-round.

"Hey," Jake said suddenly, startling Alex a little. "I have to go..." He held up the bridle he was carrying. "But we should get together later tonight and catch up."

"Yeah." Alex hadn't felt this nervous, well, ever. "Um, there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight around ten. I was going to go out in the south pasture and watch it if you wanted to join me?" He blushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth, realizing how the invitation had sounded. "It's supposed to be, um, you probably really don't care, huh?" He really needed to stop talking. Soon.

Luckily, Jake just laughed. "No, that sounds cool. How about I meet you out here around nine-thirty?"

"Really? I--Yeah, that works. I'll see you then." Alex wondered if he sounded as dumb as he thought he did.

"Okay." Jake smiled again. "See you later, then."

Alex stood there for a moment, disbelieving. Had Jake just winked at him?

Resisting the urge to pace was almost more than Alex could handle. He was standing by the barn, waiting for Jake to show up and trying to talk himself out of a major freak-out. The last thing he needed was for Jake to walk up and find him having an asthma attack.

Calm down, he told himself. It's not like anything's going to happen. That helped. He'd known Jake for years. They were friends. It was cool. He could do this.

"Hey," Jake said as he walked up. He was wearing a white T-shirt and worn jeans. His hair was damp and he smelled really good.

I'm so fucked. "How's it going?" Alex asked, proud of the fact that his voice didn't crack.

"Pretty good." Jake tilted his head a little. "Shall we?"

"Huh?" Alex stared blankly for a moment before he realized what Jake was asking. "Oh. Yeah. I brought a blanket." Smooth. "To lay on," he added helpfully. Brilliant. "Because it'll be more comfortable than the grass." Oh, God. Why was he still talking? "I haven't had any severe head traumas since the last time you were here or anything, if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that," Jake assured him

"Really?" Alex asked as they started walking. "'Cause I was starting to."

Jake's laughter rang out in the otherwise silent night air.

They walked in companionable silence for a little while until Jake stopped abruptly, causing Alex to bump into him. "How far are we going?" he asked, turning to place his hands on Alex's shoulders. "Don't fall. You sure about that head trauma thing?"

Alex was glad it was dark enough that Jake couldn't see his blush. "Pretty sure, anyway." He looked around, acutely aware of the heat of Jake's hands through his T-shirt. "Here's as good a place as any, I suppose." They were pretty far away from the lights of the house. "Um. I guess we should spread this out." He held up the blanket.

Jake grabbed a corner and they spread it out on the ground. Alex lay down quickly, not looking at Jake. He laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his chest, closing his eyes briefly as Jake lay down next to him. He was near enough that Alex could feel the heat of Jake's body.

"I didn't know you were into astronomy," Jake said, his voice closer than Alex had been expecting, low and soft, right next to Alex's ear.

Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and shrugged a little, his shoulder brushing against Jake's arm. "I'm not too into it or anything, but Mom got me a telescope for my birthday this year." He shrugged again. "It's kind of cool."

"So do you know the names of all the stars and stuff, then?" Jake asked.

"Some of them." He turned his head a little until he could see Jake out of the corner of his eye. "You think I'm a nerd, don't you?"

"I don't think you're a nerd." Jake sounded amused.

"Don't lie to me." Alex teased.

Jake turned until he was lying on his side; his head propped in his hand as he faced Alex. "I don't think you're a nerd. You're a very cool kid."

Alex tried not to wince. "I'm not a kid." And, okay, that sounded really childish. "Sometimes age isn't always measured by years." That was better. "I'm old enough."

"Old enough for what?" Jake asked softly.

Suddenly, Alex was aware of Jake's fingers playing with the hem of Alex's T-shirt, almost but not quite touching his body.

"You're not old enough to drink," Jake said. "Or smoke."

Alex closed his eyes as Jake's fingers brushed along his bare stomach. They were so warm, stroking his skin with light, teasing touches.

"You're not old enough to vote. Hell, you're barely old enough to drive."

"Hmm," Alex said. His breathing was more labored now, but not in the scary way like when he was having an asthma attack. He didn't want to speak or move or open his eyes, was afraid that if he did, Jake would stop touching him and that would be very, very bad.

"So, what are you old enough for, Alex?" Jake asked, still touching, his hand moving further up under Alex's shirt.

"I'm old enough for this," Alex said finally, opening his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Jake whispered, but he hadn't moved away.

"I'm very sure."

The pounding of Alex's heart sounded loud in his ears as he watched Jake lean in closer, his eyes finally sliding shut as Jake's mouth covered his in a soft, wet kiss. He groaned and uncrossed his hands to slide his fingers through Jake's hair as Jake licked at Alex's lips, gently teasing his mouth open.

Alex quickly became lost in the new sensations, the thrumming of his body as Jake touched him, kissed him slowly and thoroughly, nipping and licking at Alex's lips.

"Have you done this before?" Jake asked as he pulled away, and it took far too long for Alex's mind to process the question.

"Will you stop if I say no?" Alex asked.

"I'll only stop if you want me to," Jake said. "Although I should probably be strung up for even thinking about touching you."

"Jake." Now was not the time for Jake to be having second thoughts. "I'm not going to ask you to stop," he said. "And I won't tell anyone." He tugged gently at Jake's hair, willing him to comply.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," Jake whispered against Alex's lips as he moved over Alex's body. "Do you know how tempting you are?"

Alex groaned as Jake's leg slid between his thighs, pressing firmly against his cock. "Please."

"Weren't we supposed to be watching a meteor shower?" Jake asked as he rubbed against Alex, creating the most delicious friction.

"Fuck the meteors," Alex panted.

Jake licked his lips, smiling. "There are other things I'm much more interested in fucking."

Oh, yes, please. Alex smiled. "Then why are you still talking?"

"Brat." Jake's eyes crinkled charmingly as he laughed. It was the last thing he said for a satisfyingly long time.

Alex couldn't have cared less that they missed the meteor shower.

Jake was careful to be quiet as he crept up to the loft. Not that he thought they could hear him in the main house, but when one was fucking the bosses' son, one tended to be a little paranoid.

"Alex?" he whispered and then smiled when he saw why his query went unanswered. Alex was asleep on the futon, an open book about to fall out of his hand. It was just so sweet that he wondered for about the billionth time what the hell he was doing sleeping with a kid as young as Alex.

There was something about Alex though, something that Jake found utterly fascinating. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. It was almost as if Alex didn't belong there. Like he was transported from another world or something. Jake laughed at himself for the thought.

The truth was that Jake hadn't paid much attention to Alex those first few summers he'd worked at the ranch, though he'd always been nice to the kid. Jake had been hired when Lillian had gotten sick, although he hadn't known it at the time. It wasn't until that fourth summer; the first after she'd died, that Jake had really noticed Alex. He had been so incredibly solemn, almost eerily so. He'd seemed so intensely sad that Jake couldn't help but feel for him.

So Jake had gone out of his way to befriend Alex, trying to draw him out a little. And it had worked. Bit by bit, Alex began to loosen up, which had the side effect of putting Jake on Pam's good side--not that that's why he did it. The more he was around Alex, the more Jake genuinely liked him.

Last summer, Jake had started to notice that Alex was looking at him differently. Long, considering looks from under his eyelashes when he thought that Jake wasn't paying attention. Jake had found it sort of sweet that Alex had a crush on him.

Needless to say, Jake had been surprised when he bumped into a very grown-up Alex this summer. There was no way he could have predicted the attraction on his side of things. Alex was just a kid, a kid who had stood there, looking up at him coyly, and invited him to go star gazing. And the hell of it was, Jake was pretty sure Alex had no clue how fucking hot that was.

Alex had seemingly bypassed all the teenage awkwardness that everyone else was subject to. He moved with a seductive grace while somehow maintaining an air of innocence. Jake was almost afraid to see what would happen once Alex realized how attractive he really was.

Jake sighed, moving to take the book from Alex's hand, doing so gently to avoid waking him up. He checked the spine, snorting softly as he read; Hallucinating Foucault. Even the title sounded overtly intellectual.

"Hey," Alex murmured, blinking sleepily.

Jake laid the book on the floor and sat down on the edge of the futon. "I didn't mean to wake you up," he said, running his fingers through Alex's hair.

Alex shut his eyes, stretching a little. "That's okay. I was waiting for you. I just fell asleep."

"So I saw. A little light reading before bed?" He ran his hand down Alex's neck, stroking his pulse point.

"Mmmm, it's a good book."

Jake smiled. "You've read it before."

"Yeah." Alex opened his eyes, gracing Jake with lazy smile. "It's about this college student who is writing his thesis on this writer/philosopher, Paul Michel, who is in some mental institution. So the student goes to meet him and ends up falling in love with him. He wants to save him."

"And does he?" Jake asked.

"I guess it depends on your interpretation as a reader." Alex frowned. "Michel is much older than the narrator and pretty much thinks the narrator's romantic notions are childish." He laughed then. "It's really pretty depressing if you think about it."

Alex reached up, sliding his fingers under Jake's T-shirt, tracing lightly over his back. Jake wondered if Alex realized how much of what he was feeling showed up in his expressions.

"Do you know how pretty you are?" Jake asked, tracing Alex's eyebrows and then his lips softly with his thumb.

Alex opened his mouth to scrape his teeth across the pad of Jake's thumb before answering. "I think girls are pretty. Guys are..."

"Gorgeous?" Jake asked, smiling at the snort Alex gave in response. "You don't believe me? Every time I look at you I want you."

"Luckily, you can have me," Alex teased.

Jake pulled away a little, feeling a sudden pang of guilt. "You shouldn't give up so much so freely," he said.

"Jake?" Alex frowned.

"I don't deserve that much from you, Alex."

Alex's expression softened and Jake knew that his words had been misunderstood, but then Alex sat up and moved to straddle Jake's hips and Jake couldn't bring himself to care.

"I suppose you'll just have to deal with getting more than you deserve, then, won't you?" Alex asked as he relieved Jake of his shirt.

Jake groaned as Alex's hands roamed over his body. He laid back on the futon, pulling Alex down with him. It was too late to stop things now that they'd started, and despite the fact that Jake felt like a bastard for getting involved with Alex, there was no way he was willing to give him up before he absolutely had to.

Pam sighed as she stood at the kitchen sink and watched Jake slip out of the barn and walk back to the staff quarters. There weren't many ways to interpret the fact that he was leaving her son's "room" at four-thirty in the morning. Even a mother's level of willful blindness had its limits.

Between Alex walking around with a cocky grin on his face and the fact that Jake hadn't been able to look her in the eye since the morning he'd arrived, Pam had been having trouble convincing herself that there was nothing going on. Now it was pretty much impossible, which meant she and Alex were going to have to have the talk.

She sighed again as she sat down at the kitchen table, cradling her head in her hands. What was she going to do? She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to call her parents and apologize for everything she had ever put them through. There was going to be a discussion, that much was a given. But she had no idea what she was going to say.

It wasn't like she could forbid them to see each other, tempting as the idea was. The urge to fire Jake and then lock Alex in his room until he was thirty was hard to resist. Unfortunately, Pam remembered what it was like to be sixteen and different; how wonderful it was to find someone to be with. Trying to put an end to things now would pretty much be like shutting the barn door after the horse had already bolted.

Suddenly Pam felt very tired and it had nothing to do with the early hour. This was all happening too soon. Alex was still just a baby. He was much too young to be having...relationships. She was really not ready to deal with any of this.

Her head snapped up as she heard the soft click of the kitchen door closing. "Alex," she said, watching him jump and then freeze before he finally turned around.

"Mom. I didn't see you there. What are you doing sitting here in the dark?" he asked.

"Just thinking. Could you sit down please?" Better to just get it over with. "I think we need to talk."

Alex's eyes widened. "Um, now?" He smiled. "Surely it can wait until later, right?"

"No, I think it should be now." And don't call me Shirley. She watched Alex's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously and wondered if she would find this funny in a few years. Somehow she doubted it.

"It really can't wait?"

"Alexander, don't make me ask you again."

"Can I at least take a shower?" He fidgeted a little as he asked.

Pam had the sudden, sickening realization that he probably smelled like sex. "Be quick about it," she said quietly and watched her son practically run out of the room.

She made coffee as she waited and tried not to think too much. "You know, Lily, this is one of those times when I really wish you were around," she whispered. She carried the two coffee mugs back to the table and sat down without bothering to turn on the lights.

"So, what's up?" Alex asked as he walked back into the room.

Pam just looked at him until he sat down and wrapped his hands around his cup. He stared at his coffee like it held the answers to all of life's mysteries. She had no idea how to start this.

"Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?" Alex asked, finally looking up, his eyes wide and guileless.

She didn't buy it for a moment. "Is that the way you want to do this?" she asked. When he didn't answer she continued. "Did you really think you guys were being discreet?"

Alex blanched at that. "Yes. I mean, no. We--I didn't really think about it, I guess."

"Well that much is fairly obvious," she snapped before she could stop herself. "Honestly, Alex. I thought you had more sense that to just jump into something like this without thinking at all."

"Jeez, Mom. It's not like he's just some bum off the street. We've known him for years."

"Yeah, ever since you were ten!"

"Okay." Alex sighed. "I know the age difference seems like a little much at this point..."

Pam snorted in disbelief. "A little much? He's five years older than you are. At this point, that's a huge difference and he should have known better. You both should have."

Alex looked panicked at that. "You can't blame him for this. It wasn't his fault. He didn't make me do anything against my will."

"Jake is an adult, you're not. Legally, whether or not you were willing is a moot point."

"Oh, God, Mom." Alex licked his lips. "You can't...you're not going to call the police, are you?"

She let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering. "I'm not going to call the police," she assured him. "Only because I'm not sure what it would accomplish."

"I like him a lot," Alex whispered.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Pam tried to smile but failed miserably. "I'm not going to make you stop seeing him, but just be careful, okay? You're being safe, right?"

"Mom!" Alex sounded thoroughly scandalized.

"If you're old enough to be having sex, you're old enough to discuss it responsibly."

"There isn't an 'old enough' when it comes to discussing sex with your mom," Alex mumbled.

"Alexander." It was a warning.

He sighed. "We're being safe."

"Okay. I just want you to be careful, honey." There was really nothing else she could do, was there? If she forbade them to have sex, tried to keep them from being alone in Alex's loft, they would just find somewhere else.

"I just told you I was!"

"I mean with your heart. It's easy to get the physical stuff mixed up with the emotional stuff. I just don't want to see you get hurt." Even as she said it, Pam knew there was no other way this relationship could end except in hurt. And she had a sudden sick feeling that Alex was going to be the one left hurting.

"I'll be careful," Alex said. "I'll be fine." The ironic thing was that Pam knew he really believed that. Nothing she could say was going to make him more cautious, so she did what any mother would do-- the next best thing.

"Now," she said, leaning forward. "Let's go over the new rules."

Alex groaned.

"You're sure you mom won't be back until later?" Jake asked again. Better to be paranoid than to have to face Pam's wrath if she caught them together.

Alex smiled. "I'm absolutely positive. Now relax." They were in Alex's bedroom for a change, instead of the loft. Pam was out of town for the day, seeing about buying a horse. "Besides, it's not like she doesn't know about us," he added philosophically.

"Knowing about us and coming home to find us in bed together are two totally different categories."

"Hmmm. You're probably right," Alex said. "You should have your way with me while you can."

Jake laughed. "You're going to have to give me a few minutes before I can have my way with you again. Not all of us are sixteen."

"Pity, that." Alex turned over on his back to stare at the ceiling. "So, I was thinking of dyeing my hair. Maybe black. I could go Goth, start wearing eyeliner and black nail polish."

"As hot as you'd look in eyeliner, don't you dare dye your hair black," Jake said, rolling onto his side and tucking a pillow under his head.

"Why not? What about brown? Or I could go blond." He shook his head then. "No, I think I would be a scary blond."

"I like your hair color," Jake said, running his fingers through the hair in question.

"Really?" Alex wrinkled his nose. "But it's so red. I look like a clown or something."

"Don't be so dramatic. It isn't that bright. Besides, I have a bit of a thing for redheads."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "In general or one specifically?"

"I had one particular redhead in mind. Promise me you won't dye it."

Alex drew an 'x' over his heart with his index finger. "I could shave it all off."

Jake laughed. "You'd look ridiculous bald."

"Oh, very nice." Alex pretended to pout, turning on his side, his back facing Jake.

"What would you do with a million dollars?" Jake asked suddenly, thinking about the call he'd gotten the other day. He'd dismissed the guy as a crackpot, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"A million dollars?" Alex turned until he was lying on his back again. "What kind of question is that?"

Jake shrugged. "A hypothetical one. Don't you think it'd be cool to have that much money? What would you do with it? How would you spend it?"

"I don't know." Alex appeared to consider the question. "I suppose I'd invest it."

"But besides that."

"I'd go to school, to college. I'd go to a really good college and get my doctorate in medical science and then find the cure for cancer and heart disease," Alex finished in a whisper.

"'Cause of your mom?" Jake asked.

Alex just nodded.

And that was just so..."Typical." Alex looked startled, so Jake explained. "That's just such a typical Alex answer. You're so good, Alex. You're so...sweet."

Alex smirked a little at that. "I'm not that good. You'd be surprised."

"Would I?" Jake asked.

"Oh yes." Alex nodded. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Jake refrained from telling Alex that he sounded more 'adorable' than he did 'threatening'. He didn't quite have the heart to disillusion him.

"What would you do? If you had a million dollars."

"Hmm." Jake pretended to consider as he ran his hand down Alex's side. Alex stretched under his touch like a big cat. "I'd keep you as a pet."

Alex laughed. "A pet."

"Yep. I'd keep you locked in my bedroom and I'd never let you have any clothes. I'd hand-feed you all your meals."

"If I just spent all my time in bed, how would I keep up my girlish figure?"

Jake smiled and moved over Alex until he was settled between Alex's spread thighs. "Oh, I'm sure we could find a way to keep you in shape." Screw the guy and his million dollars.

It wasn't until much later, when Jake was hovering on the edge of sleep and he heard Alex whisper 'I love you' that he started to reconsider the offer.

"Hey, Mom. Good morning." Alex kissed his mother on the cheek as he walked into the kitchen. "Or good afternoon, I suppose. Have you seen Jake? I haven't talked to him since yesterday and I--" He stopped as he caught the expression on his mom's face. "Mom?"

"Jake left this morning, Alex."

Alex blinked, sinking into the chair next to her. "What do you mean?" Surely she couldn't mean he left left.

"He, uh...he said he had some sort of family emergency."

"Oh." Alex felt the knot in his chest loosen a little. That's why Jake hadn't said goodbye. There wasn't time in an emergency situation.

"He didn't leave a forwarding address."

Alex shut his eyes. "I'm sure he just forgot. Right? I mean, he was probably thinking about other stuff and he just forgot." The look on his mom's face pretty much told Alex what she thought the chances of that were. "He'll call, once he realizes." He shoved away from the table.

"Alex..."

"I'm going to go clean out the stalls. They aren't done, right? Because Jake is gone." Jake was gone. He wasn't supposed to be gone for another month and a half. "I'll go do that." Thankfully, his mom let him leave.

The work kept Alex's mind off of things, as much as it could. He lost himself in the strain and the flexing of his muscles and wondered whether Warrior Angel could spend years in a secret government lab being experimented on and still be good when Devilicus freed him. Wouldn't he be bitter and angry and turn evil and get his revenge on the people who had held him captive? It really came down to the question of people's true nature. Were some people born inherently good? Alex tended to doubt it, but then, Warrior Angel was from another planet. Maybe on his planet they were.

He got the stables cleaned out in record time and went back to the house to shower. Maybe Jake had called. But his mom would have come and told him, right? But maybe she was busy and had missed the call. Alex would check the answering machine.

When he went back into the kitchen, his mom was still there. "He left this for you. I didn't read it," she said as he took the folded sheet of notebook paper from her hand.

Alex willed his hands not to shake as he unfolded the letter.

*Alex, I'm so sorry.
-Jake*

Somehow he'd been expecting more. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? When you told me to be careful, you knew he'd--" Alex swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

"I suspected something like this might happen," his mom said softly. "Not because of you, though, Alex. Just because it seems to be the nature of first loves."

"Doomed to failure?" Alex asked, a bitter smile twisting his features.

"Oh, honey." She took a step toward him and Alex took a step back.

"I'm fine." He didn't want her to know how dangerously close to tears he was. God, he was such a baby. He wasn't going to cry.

"I was going to go to the store. I could pick up some ice cream. And chocolate."

"And rent When Harry Met Sally?" Alex asked with a hint of a genuine smile. "I'm not actually a girl, you know."

His mom smiled. "Some post break-up rituals are universal."

"Yeah? So lesbians do it the same way straight girls do?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes we have more props."

"More...Oh my god!" Alex said with dawning horror. "I can't believe you said that!" She was laughing! Alex turned and started walking to his room, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or curl up into a traumatized ball right there in the hallway.

"Wait, Alex," his mom gasped. "I'm sorry, I--" she started laughing harder. "You should have seen the look on your face."

Alex closed his bedroom door behind him as his mom guffawed in the hallway. "I'm glad you find my pain amusing. You've scarred me for life!" A smile twitched at his lips.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, still snickering.

"Leave me alone! I'm never talking to you again."

"What kind of ice cream do you want?"

"Mint chocolate chip. And get some M&M's." He paused for a moment before coming to a decision. "And could you get some black hair dye?"

Montana, 1998

"Has the mail come yet?" Alex called out as soon as he walked through the door.

"Hi, dear. I'm wonderful, how are you?"

He gave his mom a sheepish grin. "Hi, Mom. How has your day been?"

"Why, it's been just lovely." She leaned against the counter and picked up the pile of mail there. "Now, let's see. I thought there was something here for you." She made a show of flipping through the stack. "Bill, bill, junk mail..."

"You're evil, you know that, right?" Alex asked as he waited.

"Honestly, Alex. I'm not sure what you're so worked up about. It's not like there's a possibility that they aren't going to let you in." She finally pulled the large envelope out of the pile and handed it over.

Alex stared at it for a moment, licking his lips. It was true; there really wasn't a possibility that the college wouldn't accept him. Through the head start program at his high school, he had been taking classes at the community college since his junior year, which meant that in a few months he would be graduating from high school with an A.A. degree. He was also the top student at both schools.

None of that really helped with his nervousness, though. He had already been accepted by all the other colleges he'd applied to, but Metropolis University was the one he was most concerned about. He tore open the envelope, reading the first few lines at the top of the letter. "Dear Alexander M. Jenkins, Congratulations!" He smiled.

"I told you so," his mom said as she came to stand next to him. "You've made up your mind, haven't you?"

She had insisted that he apply to several different colleges and told him to make sure he considered all of his options before he made any decisions, but Alex wanted to go to Metropolis. He'd told her it was because they had a good science program, which was true. They had one of the best in the country. But it was more than that, really. Alex had been going through a restless period since...for awhile. He wanted to get away, somewhere totally different and Kansas seemed as good a place as any. It was where his parents had met. They'd been roommates.

His mom called it destiny. Alex considered it dumb luck, but maybe he was wrong. People always called it destiny when something good happened. When you found love, it was due to destiny. What was it, then, when love fucked you over and walked away without a word? Karma?

"What's the matter?" his mom asked, and Alex realized he'd been scowling.

"I was just thinking about destiny." He sighed. "I want to go to Metropolis."

"I thought so. You'll like it there." She sounded resigned.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm just going to miss you so much. It'll be so lonely here without you."

Alex felt guilty. It wasn't his mom's fault that he felt so trapped here. It wasn't that he had an unhappy childhood or anything like that. There was just something about his life that felt...empty.

He'd dated a little after Jake left, but he'd been too wary to really get involved with anyone else. In the past couple years, he'd become something of a loner. Maybe Metropolis would change that. College was different, with all sorts of different people. Maybe he wouldn't be such a freak there.

He looked at his mom again. She looked so sad. "If you don't want me to go--"

"Alexander!" Now she looked pissed, which was better, he supposed.

"What?"

She sighed. "Of course I don't want you to go. You're my baby and if I could, I would keep you here forever. But you need to go."

There were times when Alex realized his mom understood a lot more than he gave her credit for. "I could go somewhere closer," he offered weakly.

"Honey, if Metropolis is where you really want to go, that's where you need to go. You can't--" She stopped, suddenly looking very serious. "You can't let others make your decisions for you, or influence you into doing things that you don't want to do. You're the only one who knows what is right for you and you can't let anybody else decide that, no matter what. Not even your family." She pinned him with an intense look. "Especially not your family. You can't let someone else control your life; don't fall into that trap. Do you understand?"

Alex studied her for a moment. "Are we still talking about colleges?"

She smiled then. "Just promise me you'll make your own decisions."

"I promise."

"Oh." She started flipping through the pile of mail again. "This came for you too."

Alex took the envelope she was holding and read the return address. It was from Cadmus Labs, Metropolis. He tore it open and pulled out the letter, skimming the words. Blinking, he reread, not quite believing what was written. "Oh my God."

"What is it?"

"They're offering me a scholarship." He didn't remember applying for a scholarship from Cadmus Labs. But he'd applied for quite a few scholarships, so it wasn't a surprise that he wouldn't remember. "A full ride; room and board, tuition, books and an opportunity for a paid internship upon graduation."

"Let me see that." His mom pulled the letter from his hands. "That's very generous."

"They can probably afford it. They're one of the leading companies in genetics research. They have some incredible scientists on their staff."

"Who owns it?" She looked up at him suspiciously.

"I think they're an independent company. Why?"

"Just wondering." She sounded relived. "I'm so proud of you!"

Alex smiled, curious as to what she'd been upset about. But he didn't ask. She got suspicious about the weirdest things and Alex had given up trying to work out her logic a long time ago. "Mom? I love you. You know that, right? That my wanting to leave has nothing to do with you?"

"Oh, honey." She wrapped her arms around him. "I know. I love you too. And I'm so proud of you. I know you'll do great in Metropolis. You'll love it there."

He returned the hug, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I really hope so." It had to get better, because Alex wasn't sure how much he could handle if it got worse.

Pam sat down on the grass, the sun beating down on her back, and it seemed wrong that it should be a sunny day. Almost rude, somehow. She laughed a little then and considered that she really needed more sleep if she was starting to accuse the weather of being rude.

She studied the headstone in front of her. Lillian Eileen Jenkins, it read. Lily had legally changed her last name, saying that if her father was going to disown her, she was going to do the same thing.

"I'm back," she said quietly. "I got back last night. Alex is all moved in. I know it's only been a day but I miss him already. I keep expecting him to walk in the room and ask what we're having for dinner or tell me he's going riding." She laughed. "Listen to me, going on about him as if he's..." She trailed off, realizing the irony of saying 'as if he's dead' to a grave.

"You should have seen him there; he took to it like a fish to water." She closed her eyes, picturing his face as they walked around campus. It had been a long time since Alex had looked that excited about anything, since he had looked so carefree.

"He still has the black hair, but I think the look is starting to grow on me. It'll help him fit in there, anyway. You should see some of those kids. I'm afraid he's going to come home with all sorts of piercings and tattoos." Alex had joked about getting an eyebrow piercing. Pam had let him know, in no uncertain terms, what she thought about that idea.

"I met his roommate, Seth. He seems like a nice boy. He's a junior too, but he's twenty, so maybe he'll help Alex adjust, show him around. He was very friendly." A pretty boy with brown hair and green eyes that watched Alex with a little too much interest in Pam's opinion. She hoped he wasn't too friendly.

"Anyway, I think he'll do fine there. He seemed to love Metropolis. It's a big city." It was a huge city. The chances of him running into anyone were small. He would mostly be on campus anyway. It was a big city. He would be safe. This was becoming Pam's mantra.

"I couldn't tell him, Lily. I tried to, but I couldn't get the words out. God, I'm such a coward." They had lied to him before. It had been a joint decision and when Alex was little and asked about his father, they had told him that he was special because he was theirs; that he didn't have a father to speak of. When he got a little older, he'd asked Pam if it had been a sperm donor. To her everlasting shame, she had said yes. That had been the end of the subject and since it hadn't ever seemed to bother him, she hadn't tried to bring it up again until he told her he wanted to go to school in Metropolis.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I mean, if Lionel were interested in him, he would have done something before now, right? He would have made his move when you died, since I'm not..." Alex's real mother. She'd researched Cadmus Labs after Alex had gotten the scholarship. She couldn't find any connection between that company and LuthorCorp, but that didn't prove anything except that the connection wasn't a public one. The degree to which Lionel Luthor couldn't be trusted was extreme. "I'm sure it will be fine," she repeated. "It's a big city." God, don't let anything happen to my baby, she prayed.

Metropolis, 1999

"Fuck!" Alex cried out as he bucked his hips, coming so hard that he almost blacked out. College rocked.

"Do you know how fucking hot you are when you come?"

Alex just laughed as Seth crawled up his body. Seth's lips were red and swollen, wet and shiny. It was a good look on him. "God, that was..." Good. Really good. Fucking amazing. Alex was having trouble deciding on an appropriate description.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Seth said.

"Oh, you really should," Alex assured him, closing his eyes. Seth was great. He was funny and charming and friendly and an extremely talented fuck. Alex had been a little reluctant to start any sort of physical relationship with someone he was living with, but Seth had been very...persuasive. He had explained that it would be totally casual, that it was the beauty of having a fuck buddy. Several months later, Alex was willing to admit when he was wrong. Seth was brilliant.

"You know what I was thinking?" Seth asked as he kissed Alex's neck.

"Not a clue," Alex said happily. Thinking wasn't high on his list of priorities at the moment.

"I was thinking that maybe we could make our arrangement more, um, exclusive."

Alex opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "What do you mean by exclusive?" It wasn't like Alex was seeing anybody. He didn't really date, which was how the whole fuck buddy thing had come about in the first place. Seth knew that, so why would he bring something like this up?

"I mean exclusive, as in us not sleeping with anyone but each other."

"Sleeping with?" Alex pushed Seth off and stood up, grabbing his pants off the floor. "I'm not sleeping with anyone else. I'm not even sleeping with you." It had been one of the things they agreed upon straight off. They both slept in their own beds, always.

"Well, yeah. That would be another little difference," Seth said, rolling on his side to watch Alex. "Maybe we could start. Sleeping together, that is. And do other stuff. Together."

"You want to start dating?" Alex asked flatly.

Seth shrugged. "Yeah, why not? We get along. I like you, Alex."

"I like you too, but that's not the point. I already told you that I don't really date."

"Right." Seth stood up and put his pants on too, which meant this was going to be a discussion. "But see, that's kind of bullshit, so you're going to have to think of something better."

Alex blinked at him. "Bullshit? It's not bullshit. I'm just not interested in having a relationship with anybody right now. I told you that before. It's not worth the hassle."

"I'm not him."

"Him?" Alex froze. "Who's him?"

"The guy who made you so fucking scared of relationships," Seth said softly.

"I'm not scared of relationships," Alex told him. "It has nothing to do with--I'm not scared."

"Right, which is why the suggestion that you date someone you've been fucking for the past four months has you nearly pissing your pants." He stopped, tilting his head a little. "I wouldn't hurt you."

Alex crossed his arms. "You're wrong. About the guy, that is. I'm not the poor victim of some huge trauma or whatever, if that's what you're thinking."

"What happened, then?" Seth asked, walking towards him a little. "There is someone, or was, anyway."

"It was nothing." Alex shrugged. "I was young and I made some mistakes. It's not a big deal."

"Mistakes? What kind of mistakes?"

I got too involved. "I really don't see how it's relevant. The point is that I'm not really into the whole relationship thing. It doesn't work for me."

Seth stepped closer and Alex had to resist the urge to take a step back. "And my point is that's not true. I know you, Alex. You're not the casual fuck kind of guy."

Alex bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're pretty amazing." Seth was really close now. Alex itched to move, to get away. He needed some distance. "You're smart, funny, gorgeous..." He reached out to cup the back of Alex's neck. "Give me a chance," Seth whispered.

"I can't." He shook his head. "This is all there is. Please don't ask for more, I can't give it."

Seth swallowed and looked away. "That's not true either. You can give more, you're too passionate not to...if it's the right person." He laughed a little. "I'm not him. That's the problem, isn't it?"

"I'm not still in love with him, Seth."

"Yeah, Alex. You really are." Seth finished getting dressed and then grabbed his backpack. "I'm going to go to the library and study. I'll catch you later." The door shut quietly behind him.

"Fuck!" Alex looked around for something to throw. When he couldn't find anything, he kicked a pile of clothes. "Fuck!" he yelled again for good measure.

He pulled on a shirt and put on a pair of shoes. "I knew it. I fucking knew it! 'Oh no, it'll be casual, Alex. Fuck buddies are great! No strings attached.'" Locating his keys, he pulled on his jacket and shoved them in his pocket.

"I'm never listening to you again," he told his dick.

The wind was cold as he walked out of the building. Alex really didn't have a destination in mind; he just needed to get out of the room. Checking his wallet to see if he had money, he decided to head over to the student union for some coffee.

"Fuck," he repeated under his breath, as it seemed to adequately sum up the situation. Things were really going to suck now. Living with Seth had just become extremely awkward. "Rule number one; don't fuck your roommate." Could his day get any worse?

Over time, Alex had learned not to ask that question because the universe seemed to take it as some sort of challenge, even if you didn't say it out loud. The girl would have to be carrying coffee.

"Fuck," he said again, and wouldn't his mother be pleased at his new vocabulary? The hot coffee seeped through his clothes, burning his skin. Alex was going to cry. He was going to embarrass himself and have a nervous breakdown in front of the pretty girl who had just spilled coffee all over him. He mentally flipped off the universe.

"Oh, god! I'm so sorry," the girl said. "Shit. I barely got to drink any of that!"

Alex blinked at her. How was he supposed to respond to that? "Yeah, I know that was my main concern."

"Dammit, I'm sorry. Let me buy you a drink or something." She stopped to look at him, taking in his outfit with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe let me buy you some new pants. You're not from around here are you?"

Alex was pretty sure he'd just been insulted. He started to laugh.

"What?" the girl asked, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"Well, most people would be apologetic for giving a guy third degree burns. You took the opportunity to insult my fashion sense."

"Or lack thereof."

"It's refreshing, really. I'm always looking for people who know of fun new ways to kick me when I'm down. Especially when they're wearing such fabulous shoes. I'm Alex."

She smiled. "I'm Lois. And I really am sorry. Let me make it up to you. Coffee?"

"Sure. Um." He looked down at his clothes. "You mind accompanying me to my dorm so I can change? Maybe you could even keep me from publicly humiliating myself with whatever I pick out."

Lois laughed. "Sure, sounds like a plan."

Alex contemplated the ringing phone for a moment before picking it up. "Hello?"

"I'm bored. Entertain me."

Alex sighed into the phone. "Hi, Lois. I'm fine, and how are you?"

"I just told you, bored."

"Don't you have a story to work on or something? Some horrible injustice being committed somewhere that should be brought to light?" Alex asked as he picked up the remote again, idly flipping through the TV channels.

"Paper's put to bed for the week and it's the last issue before spring break. I'm done with all my final projects and I'm sure you are too, so come over."

"You're a bossy bit of goods, you know that, right?"

Lois laughed. "C'mon. We'll have a sleepover. Please don't make me whine, Alex. It's not dignified."

"How do you know I'm not already doing something? It's a Friday night. I could have someone over," Alex said, pausing for a moment on the cooking channel. That food looked really good.

"Well, I'd ask if you were about to get laid, but I figure you've got the remote in one hand and you're holding the phone with the other, so I'm guessing that's a no."

Alex set the remote down and glared at the TV, wishing that Lois were there to be appropriately intimidated by the look. "Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because I saved you from the flannel," she said. "Besides, you should be flattered. I don't hag for just anyone."

"Is 'hag' a verb?"

"It is now."

"Good to know."

"Come over! I'll even come pick you up so you don't have to walk. I have to stop at the store anyway."

Alex could hear her keys jingling, startled when he heard keys jingling behind him too. "Sounds like Seth is home," he said.

"Who does he have with him this time?" Lois asked.

"We'll find out in a second." He turned to watch Seth walk in the door, his arm wrapped around the waist of a very pretty guy with dark blond hair and blue eyes.

"Hey, Alex. This is Josh," Seth said.

"Josh." Alex nodded in greeting as he answered Lois' question. Ever since he and Seth had their falling out a couple months ago, Seth had been bringing home different guys on a regular basis. Alex wasn't sure whether to feel guilty or jealous or insulted. He settled for a combination of all three. "How soon can you be here?" he asked into the phone.

"Gimme five minutes. Be in front of the building," Lois ordered before hanging up the phone without saying goodbye. Alex hoped she either developed better manners or found a partner with some when she became a real journalist. Otherwise she'd just end up alienating a lot of sources. He took a moment to pity the poor sucker that might have to work with her in the future.

"I'm going over to Lois', so you'll have the place to yourselves," Alex said as he shoved some clothes and bathroom stuff into his backpack. "See you later." He grabbed his wallet and keys, stuffing them into his jacket and then picked up his shoes, padding down to the lobby in his socks.

The lobby was empty as he sat down to pull on his boots, black Doc Martens that Lois had convinced him to get. In fact, over the past few months, his wardrobe had slowly transformed from the stuff he'd brought from home to the clothes that Lois had made him buy. Most of his old clothes were stuffed in a box in the back of his closet.

He stood up, shouldering his backpack and walked outside. The weather was still on the chilly side, causing Alex to pull his jacket a little tighter around his body. He hoped that Lois got there soon.

"Hey, sexy. Lookin' for a ride?"

Alex walked over to the car, bending to rest his arms in the open window. "How much money you got?"

"What are you asking?"

He laughed. "You couldn't afford me."

"Probably not." Lois smiled. "Are you getting in or what?"

"Yeah, yeah." Alex opened the door and threw his backpack into the backseat before sliding in the car and rolling up the window. "What are we picking up at the store?"

"Smokes and coffee." Lois glanced over at him, running one of her hands through his hair. "Your roots are showing. We can get some dye too if you want."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to do that, actually. And smoking is a filthy habit, you know," he said more out of habit than because he thought it would do any good.

Lois just rolled her eyes.

"So what number guy is this?" Lois asked as she stood behind Alex and toweled his hair dry. He was sitting on a chair in the bathroom facing the mirror, making faces at himself.

He just shrugged. "I've lost count, I think."

"And it doesn't bother you at all?"

"We weren't that serious."

Lois bit her lip and refrained from pursuing her line of questioning. She'd already tried a number of times before to no avail. When Alex didn't want to talk about something, that was pretty much it. It was a fact that bugged Lois to no end. "You should get a tattoo," she said instead.

"You're joking, right?"

"No. You should get one of those armbands. You have the arms for it."

Alex raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Like a barbed wire?"

Lois snorted. "No, like a Celtic knot or something. It'd be hot."

"I'm not getting a tattoo."

"Well, what about a piercing?" She studied his reflection for a moment. "Oh! You could get your nipples pierced!"

Alex blinked at her several times. "What?"

"Yes!" She clapped her hands. "Let's get your nipples pierced! You have nice nipples. It'd be great!"

"When have you seen my nipples?" Alex looked indignant. "I'm not getting anything tattooed or pierced."

"Why not?" Lois pouted a little. Part of her viewed Alex as a big plaything for her to dress and decorate as she wanted. It annoyed her when her plaything resisted. "It would be sexy," she insisted.

"Have I done something to offend you?" Alex turned to look at her. "Something that makes you want to inflict physical pain on me with the use of needles in their various forms? Maybe I shouldn't be sleeping here. You don't have a knife hiding under your pillow or anything, do you?"

"If I did I wouldn't tell you," Lois said as she walked back into her bedroom and flopped on the bed. "What are we watching now?"

Alex stretched out next to her. "Something. What's on the Cartoon Network?" he asked around a huge yawn.

She shrugged. "We could just go to bed. Are you sleeping in here?"

"I don't know; will you molest me during the night if I do?"

Lois waggled her eyebrows. "I'll try and keep my hands to myself," she said as she crawled under the covers.

"See that you do." Alex drew a line down the center of the double bed with his finger. "This is my side."

"Yeah, yeah," Lois said as she curled up against his side. She loved their friendship, how comfortable they were with each other. "I was thinking."

"That scares me a little."

"Maybe we should live together next year. I mean, you're not going to live with Seth again, right? We could get a really cheap apartment downtown and hang posters of half-naked men everywhere." She paused. "Unless you have other plans already."

Alex kissed the top of her head. "Frighteningly enough, that sounds like a good idea." He laughed. "Let's do it!"

Metropolis, 2000

Lois considered that first cup of coffee in the morning to be quite possibly the best part of her day. Alex said that she had a relationship with coffee that bordered on inappropriate at times, but Lois suspected that he was just jealous because he wasn't able to appreciate it like she did.

She took a sip that was close to scalding, closing her eyes as the knot of heat settled in her stomach and then spread through her chest, warming her from the inside out. Setting the mug down on the counter, she dug her Camel Lights out of her purse and then dug around for her lighter. Finally locating it, she slipped out of the apartment.

It was a nice morning, due to this year's unusually warm spring, which Lois appreciated since Alex wouldn't let her smoke in the apartment. Winter mornings had been a real bitch. She sat down on the steps and cupped one hand around the end of her cigarette, flicking her lighter with the other. If there were one thing better than the first cup of coffee in the morning, it would be that first smoke.

Stimulants raced through her veins with their usual vigor, making her skin tingle. The nicotine worked with the caffeine in a team effort to wake her up, and Lois appreciated that.

"That's a filthy habit, you know."

Lois looked up, using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she took another drag and tried to figure out how she knew the guy in front of her. When she finally recognized him, she almost dropped her cigarette. "Jake!" She stood up to hug him, but he shied away.

"Not while you're holding that. I'd rather not be set on fire today." He grinned. "For a minute there, I thought you'd forgotten me completely."

She decided not to take offense, since she really hadn't recognized him. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you."

"I was in Smallville for the week, actually. Uncle Gabe had to go out of town on some business, so he asked me if I could stay with Chloe while he was gone." He shrugged. "Since I had to come through Metropolis anyway, I thought I'd look you up."

"That's great!" She flicked the filtered end of her cigarette with her recently manicured thumbnail. "Wow, it's been awhile. You look good."

Jake, like the rest of Lois' cousins on her mother's side, had inherited the golden Sullivan good looks. He was tan and blond and gorgeous. For years Lois had resented that side of her family for being so beautiful in contrast to her own dark coloring, but now she was glad she looked like a Lane. Who would take a blonde reporter seriously?

"You're looking pretty good yourself," he said.

She snorted. "You're just lucky you caught me post-coffee. How did you know where I lived?" Even though there was a fairly sizable gap in their ages, Lois and Jake had always gotten along. At Sullivan family reunions, they used to scope out hiding places together and then play cards the entire night.

"Uncle Gabe had your address. He said you'd shacked up with some guy." Jake waggled his eyebrows.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, not quite. I can't wait for you to meet him, though. You'll love him."

They had been close as kids, but once Jake got older, he grew restless and started travelling more. He was something of a nomad now, finding odd jobs where he could. They hadn't actually seen each other in years, but Jake wrote her on a semi-regular basis, long letters about philosophy and whatever part of the country he was in. Despite the time that had passed since the last time she'd seen him, it was easy to fall back into their usual banter.

"So, what's the deal then if it's 'not quite' a shack-up?"

Otherwise, she wouldn't have let him get away with questions like that. "He's a friend."

"Nothing romantic?"

Lois took one last drag of her cigarette before grinding it out on the sidewalk and fixing Jake with an indignant look. "What is this, twenty questions? He's gay."

"Really?" Jake looked far too interested at that. "So, is he hot?"

"Yes, and don't even think about it," Lois warned him.

"What?"

"You are not to proposition my roommate in any way, shape or form. Besides, he doesn't date."

Jake shrugged. "So are you seeing anybody else, then?"

"Do you have some sort of vested interest in my love life all of the sudden?"

He laughed. "You never mention anything about it in your letters. I just figured you'd grown up to be horribly ugly. Since you're not, I was wondering what the deal was."

"I don't really have time for a boyfriend." Lois wrinkled her nose. "They're so much work."

"But you have time for gay roommates."

"I'm not even going to pretend to understand how that makes sense in your head."

"Well, you have time for friends," Jake said. "Why not a boyfriend?"

"They're two completely different things. If you actually ever had boyfriends, you would know that."

Jake frowned. "I think I should be insulted by that. But please, enlighten me."

"Boyfriends are like puppies," Lois said, pausing for a moment to work out the comparison in her head. "You have to feed them, bathe them, walk them, play with them constantly and shower them with attention or else they end up peeing on your carpet and chewing up your brand new shoes that you spent over a hundred and fifty dollars on."

Jake tilted his head. "What kind of guys have you been dating?"

Lois decided not to dignify that, but considered the possibility that she may have gotten carried away with her analogy. "Come inside. Do you have a place to stay or were you planning on crashing here?"

"Here, if that's okay. Otherwise I can find a motel or something."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you can stay here." She opened the apartment door and led Jake down the tiny hallway to the equally tiny kitchen where Alex was bent over, half-inside the refrigerator. She saw Jake checking out Alex's ass and shot him a warning look.

He mouthed the word 'nice' to her in response.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

Alex turned around, casting a confused look at the fridge before straightening up completely. "I'm looking for the--" He stopped, the color draining out of his face as he stared at her cousin.

"Alex?" Lois asked, a little concerned.

"Um." He blinked, turning to face her. "I was looking for the...orange juice. Are we out?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. I'll get some from the store later." She looked back at Jake, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I wanted you to meet my cousin," she said slowly.

"Jake," Alex said with a sharp smile. "It's been awhile. How are you?"

"I...Hey, Alex."

Lois stood back a little, studying the two of them. "So, you two know each other?"

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Alex beat him to it. "Yeah. Jake used to work summers at our family ranch when I was a kid. That was a while ago, though."

Oh, God. Lois looked back and forth between the two men. Please, please, please tell me you didn't fuck my best friend, Jake, she thought a little desperately.

Alex glanced at the clock. "Don't you have to catch the bus, Lois?"

"Shit." He was right; she couldn't miss her reporting class today. But she couldn't just leave them alone together when there was obviously some sort of history there. She gave Alex a worried 'what do you want me to do?' look.

"Don't forget to pick up some juice on the way home, or I won't let you back into the apartment," he said with an 'it'll be okay,' half-smile.

"Okay," she said. "I won't forget." Are you sure?

Positive. "I'll see you later then." He handed her backpack to her. "Stay out of trouble."

"You too," she said with one last worried glance between Jake and Alex. Jake looked incredibly guilty and Lois was almost positive no good was going to come of this.

The door shut behind Lois and for a moment, Alex wanted to call her back, to tell her to take Jake with her, keep him away from Alex, but he couldn't force the words past his throat. He was an adult; he could handle this. He didn't need Lois to come back and protect him from her big, bad cousin, who still looked really good, damn him.

"You dyed your hair," Jake said. "I, um...I didn't know you were in Kansas."

Alex raised an eyebrow coldly. "Is there any reason you would have?"

Jake frowned a little. "Yeah, I guess not. I'm glad you're here, though. I wanted to talk to you."

"And what makes you think I want to talk to you?" Alex asked.

"Alex..." There was a pleading note in Jake's voice.

"It's been four years," Alex said, his words tight, clipped. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I wanted to tell you that."

Alex laughed. "Actually, Jake, I think you covered that much in your letter." He crossed his arms and waited. "Was that all, then? You're sorry?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't have left," Jake said miserably. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Yeah, well we all have our burdens to bear."

Jake looked startled at that, which made Alex smile a little.

"If you're looking for absolution, you're going to be waiting a long time," Alex said. "Talk to me in another four years, maybe." He turned to walk away, a strategic retreat to his bedroom. A hand on his arm stopped him.

"Let me try and make it up to you."

"Fuck you, Jake," Alex whispered, just before Jake's lips met his in a bruising kiss. Alex reached up, twisting his fingers in Jake's hair, tugging with more force that was strictly necessary

Fuck you for leaving, he thought as he bit at Jake's lip, licking away the coppery taste of blood with a perverse sense of satisfaction.

Fuck you for coming back. They bumped into the wall as they stumbled back towards Alex's bedroom, Alex almost tripping on the shirt he had just stripped off.

Fuck you for not letting me hate you. They landed on his bed with a bounce.

"Alex," Jake started, but Alex cut him off.

"Don't talk." Fuck you for making me still want this.

Alex moved over him, straddling his hips and Jake groaned as Alex rubbed against his cock. "God, Alex, I--"

"Shut up," Alex growled as he leaned in, biting Jake's lip hard. "I told you not to talk." He licked a wet line down Jake's jaw, before stopping to whisper in Jake's ear. "I get to fuck you now. That's fair, don't you think?"

Jake could only nod as he licked a drop of blood from his lip. This wasn't the Alex he had left. It was a colder, sharper version of the boy he'd known and something in the back of Jake's mind was whispering that he had only himself to blame for that. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, even as he thrust into the hand that was now stroking his cock through his pants.

"Come on, now, Jake. When has that ever stopped you before?"

Alex jumped off the bed abruptly, and for a moment Jake thought that Alex had changed his mind.

"Take off your pants," Alex said as he started to undo his own.

It was only when his pants were halfway off that Jake realized how ridiculously quick he'd been to obey the command. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought, however, as he turned to watch Alex roll on a condom and grab the bottle of lube.

Alex crawled back on the bed; tugging Jake's pants the rest of the way off and tossing them aside. "Lay back," he said softly. He must have sensed some of Jake's reluctance. "You trust me, don't you?" he asked with an over-bright smile. "I would never hurt you, baby."

Jake closed his eyes as he lay back on the bed, trusting that no matter how cruel or mocking Alex sounded; it was still Alex. He would never physically hurt Jake. Still, he was surprised when he felt the light touch of Alex's lubed finger at his entrance. He'd honestly expected Alex to skip any preparation. Alex must have sensed that too, because he chuckled softly.

"You didn't believe me, did you?" he asked as he slid one finger in, and then another, scissoring them slowly. "Well, believe me when I say that I want you to enjoy this."

Jake watched as Alex pulled his fingers out and squeezed more lube into his hand, taking his time to thoroughly coat his cock before he moved back over Jake's body, wiping his hand on the sheets. Jake spread his legs wider as Alex pressed into him, unable to suppress a groan of satisfaction as he was slowly filled.

"God," Alex whispered, his eyes falling closed as he pulled out and then thrust back in. Jake wrapped his legs around Alex's waist as he began to move. He tried pulling Alex into a kiss, but Alex turned his head, burying his face against Jake's neck, his thrusts becoming more forceful.

Jake arched his back, changing the angle of his hips until Alex was brushing against his prostate with every thrust. He reached between their bodies to stroke his cock, already so close to the edge. "Alex," he whispered as his hand moved faster. "God, please..." he gasped, surprised as his climax overtook him.

"Fuck!" Alex groaned, his muscles tensing as he slammed into Jake's body and then collapsed, his breath coming in hot bursts against Jake's neck.

What the hell was I thinking, giving this up? Jake wondered as he wrapped his arms around Alex, lightly caressing his back. Even like this; hurt, angry sex, it was better than anyone else Jake had ever been with. Jake wanted to make up for being such an asshole, if Alex would allow it.

But before he could think of something to say, Alex struggled out of his embrace and stood up, walking out of the room without looking at Jake at all. A minute later, Jake heard the shower running. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the best way to show Alex that he was sincere in his desire to make things right.

Jake must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes again, Alex was fully dressed, shoving some books into his backpack. "Hey," he said, frowning as Alex jumped at the sound. From Alex's expression, Jake guessed that he wasn't going to get the chance to make things better. If anything, he was only making it worse by staying there.

"I have to go. To the library. To study." Alex wasn't looking at him at all. "There are clean towels in the closet next to the bathroom if you want to take a shower." He turned to leave the room and then paused. "Tell Lois that I'm going to be staying with a friend for a few days."

"That won't be necessary. I'll leave," Jake said. "Tell me, though, do you feel better now? Vindicated?"

Alex stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, turning around. "No," he said finally with a ghost of a smile. "I really thought I would."

Jake laughed a little. "I really fucked up with you, didn't I?" He got no answer. "I swear, though, I never meant to-- I don't want you to hate me, Alex," he finished lamely. He deserved to be hated, recognized for the slimy bastard he really was.

"Jake." Alex sighed, tilting his head back a little. "I don't hate you. That's part of the problem." He shouldered his backpack and turned to go. "Lock the door on your way out," he said over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

"Jake's gone," Lois said the moment Alex walked into the apartment.

He nodded, not really surprised by the statement, although part of him had hoped that Jake would have the guts to stick around this time. "Yeah, I figured. Did he leave a note?" He tossed his backpack on the ground. "He's good at that."

"Do you hate me now?" Lois asked as Alex slumped down in the nearest chair.

He looked up, startled. "What kind of question is that? Why in the world would I hate you?"

"Because my cousin's a dick," she said. "I swear, I had no idea. I would never have let him into the apartment."

"Come here," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto his lap. "Do you even know what happened?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. She was such a tiny little thing; people were always surprised by how ferocious a reporter she could be.

"No," she admitted, resting her chin on the top of his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Not at the moment, anyway," he said. "And I don't hate you. Don't be dumb. You aren't responsible for his actions just because you have a few genes in common."

"I'll shoot him for you, if you want," Lois offered.

"I don't think I have enough money to bail you out of jail for premeditated murder," Alex said.

"I didn't say I'd kill him."

Alex laughed. "Oh, so we're only going 'to the pain' then?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I think I have the money for that."

"Good. Men suck."

"And rarely in the way you want them to." Alex was tired, bone weary, and he still had to change his sheets before he went to bed.

"Yeah. I was looking into becoming a lesbian," Lois said conversationally.

"Oh? I hear they've updated their starter package."

"As well as their membership benefits, but it's still not enough for me to sign up." She sighed dramatically. "Still missing that certain something."

"Cock?" Alex asked.

"Yep."

"Yeah, that's why I'm not a lesbian either."

"Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"

Alex was sure there would be a point sometime in the future when Lois' intuition would stop surprising him. It would make her into one of the world's best reporters, one day. "Can I?"

"No, I just like making arbitrary offers that I don't intend to follow through on."

"I love you," Alex said, squeezing her a little.

Lois kissed the top of his head softly. "I love you too."

Part Two

Metropolis, 2001

"You're sending me where?" Lucas was positive he'd heard his father wrong.

"Plant Number Three," his dad repeated calmly. "Think of it as an internship of sorts. A chance to prove yourself."

"You're sending me to the shit factory so I can prove myself." That was so fucked up. "It's in Smallville."

"Your grasp of the obvious has always been exceptional, Lucas, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to require more than that in my successor."

"But!" Lucas stood up, frustrated. "There's nothing to do in Smallville!"

His dad leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. "That's part of the location's charm. Maybe you'll be able to stay out of trouble there."

There was no way he was going. Lucas made a last ditch effort. "Shouldn't I be going to college now? Shouldn't the Luthor heir have an education?" Ha! Tell me I'm wrong, he thought triumphantly.

"Eventually, yes. However, I don't feel you're mature enough for college at the moment and I refuse to waste any more money on your indiscretions. When I feel you are able to handle the responsibility, you'll go to college." His father leaned forward. "Until then, you're going to Smallville."

Well, fuck. "Am I going to be in charge of the plant?" he asked hopefully. Maybe if he ran it into the ground...

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucas. If you're not responsible enough for school, what makes you think that I'd put you in charge of the plant? I want you to observe and learn something. You're almost eighteen; I expect more out of you than what I've seen so far."

Before Lucas could answer, the door to the office opened and in walked his stepmother. She spared a moment to sneer at Lucas before turning to his father. "We have to be going soon, Lionel."

An annoyed look crossed his father's face. "I'll be done in a moment, Lauren." He waited until she left to speak again. "Pack your things. You're expected at the plant tomorrow afternoon."

Lucas sighed. "Look, if this is about that girl, I swear she was already--"

"Enough! I advise you to take this situation very seriously. I won't tolerate any more screw-ups from you."

Lucas knew that, despite what he said, Lionel Luthor wanted to keep his company in the family. Otherwise, he wouldn't have wasted the time or money raising his bastard. Lucas' stepmother had never let him forget his place. All of which meant that Lucas never took threats of disinheritance too seriously. He knew he had lost, but he couldn't resist one last comment. "Or what? You'll replace me?"

"That will be all, Lucas."

The look on his father's face gave Lucas pause. He shook his head, dismissing his sudden paranoia. There wasn't another Luthor heir.

Smallville

I will go in this way
And find my own way out

Clark leaned against the guardrail, studying the water as he replayed the morning's incident in his mind. Could he have made any more of an ass of himself?

It wasn't like he expected Lana to think he was cool or anything. Clark knew he was pretty much a loser, but did he have to reinforce that fact at every given opportunity?

The fact that Whitney was so freaking perfect didn't really help things much. He just stood there, looking like some blond Adonis in his lettermen's jacket with his broad shoulders and perfect smile. "Who do you have a crush on again, Kent?" he asked himself miserably.

Clark felt like there was a part of the picture that he was missing, some cosmic puzzle piece being hidden from him that would bring everything to focus. Instead, he spent most of his life feeling out of sorts with the world around him, an impending sense of something always pressing down on him. His dad said it was destiny, but Clark didn't want destiny. He just wanted to be normal, to be able to talk to the girl he liked without having a total meltdown.

What was it about Lana that made him act like such a jackass, anyway?

He sighed and was about to leave when he heard the squeal of tires. He looked down the road to see a truck coming and behind it a red sports car. And then everything seemed to happen at once.

The sports car moved into the other lane to pass the truck. When the two vehicles were almost even, a bale of wire broke off, falling off the truck onto the hood of the car. The car swerved, fishtailing as the driver tried to regain control. It hit the guardrail on the bridge, sparking along until it drove off the side of the road, smashing into a tree.

"Shit!" Clark ran over to the car, wrenching open the door. The driver was out cold, blood trickling down his forehead. Clark wasn't sure whether to move him or not, but there was something leaking, and he was almost sure there was still a risk of the car exploding.

He unbuckled the seatbelt and pulled the man from the car, surprised to find that the driver didn't actually look that much older than Clark. "C'mon, buddy," he said as he picked the guy up. He was halfway to where the truck had pulled over, careful not to go too fast, when the deafening 'boom' caught up with him.

The impact threw him to the ground, almost like being shoved from behind. He instinctively covered the other man's body with his own as heat washed over his back.

"Oh my god, kid! Are you alright?"

Clark looked up into the concerned face of the truck driver. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, but we need to get him to the hospital," he said as he rolled off the body underneath him.

"I'll be damned," the truck driver said. "I coulda sworn that fireball had you."

"That's impossible," Clark said, even as he felt the wind hit his skin, bare where his shirt had burned away. "If it had, I'd be dead."

"Where is he?" Jonathan asked a split second before he spotted his son, wrapped in a red blanket, talking to a couple of paramedics. "Clark!"

Clark turned to him, a look of utter relief spreading over his features.

Jonathan took a moment to observe the state of things around him. The smoldering wreckage of a car on one side and a truck pulled over further up the road. Clark's face was smeared with dirt and soot. "What happened?"

"A car wreck, sir," one of the paramedics said, as if that much weren't obvious. "Your son saved the driver of the car. The truck driver wasn't hurt."

Jonathan looked over to where the man who he assumed had been driving the truck was talking to the police, explaining his story with emphatic gestures. He turned back to Clark. "And you're okay?" he asked, searching for signs of injury, although he knew there wouldn't be any.

Clark nodded, but it was the paramedic who spoke again. "Truck driver swears that he was caught in the explosion. But..." The guy smiled. "It's pretty obvious that's not true. People go into shock in these situations sometimes; imagine all sorts of things." He turned to Clark. "I still think it'd be best if you went to the hospital and got checked out, just in case."

"I'm fine," Clark said, pulling the blanket a little tighter.

"I'm sure he just needs some rest," Jonathan said, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Thank you for your help." They turned to leave, but Jonathan paused, turning back to ask one last question. "By the way, who was driving the car?"

"I can't believe you weren't hurt," his mom said, setting a mug of hot chocolate in front of him before sitting down in the seat next to him.

"Can't you?" Clark asked, looking from his mom to his dad and back a little desperately. "I mean, is it really a surprise?" He'd been replaying the incident in his mind over and over again, searching for an explanation but, like everything else in his life, there was none. "We were caught in the explosion," he said quietly.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure that you're just--"

"Don't!" He cut his mom off. "Don't try and dismiss this. I'm not stupid. I know what happened."

"Why don't you tell us what happened then, son," his dad said.

Clark had the feeling he was being humored. "I could feel it. Like someone...like I was being..." He sighed. "We were knocked to the ground and I could feel it, the heat of the fire. It didn't burn, but it was hot. And there were pieces of metal and stuff hitting my back, but none of it hurt." He fought to keep his rising hysteria at bay. "Stuff like that is supposed to hurt! What's wrong with me?"

He watched his mom look at his dad. Clark had no idea what the silent question she was asking was, but his dad's answering 'no' was pretty obvious.

"Son, sometimes you just have to have faith that things happen for a reason," his dad said.

Over the past few years, Clark had been getting steadily stronger and faster and now, evidently, he was fireproof. He had the feeling his parents knew more than what they were telling him. "That answer is going to stop being good enough soon, Dad" he warned quietly. He didn't press things, though; he'd been through enough for one day.

"Two people could have been killed by your recklessness, Lucas." His father stood at the end of the hospital bed, glowering. "Do you know what a public relations nightmare that would have been?"

"Yeah," Lucas closed his eyes. "Vehicular homicide is always tough to spin, isn't it?"

"This isn't a joke!"

Lucas opened his eyes again as his father's fist slammed down on the table by the bed. It seemed like he was really pissed this time. "It's not like I did it on purpose, Dad. I'll make it right."

His father snorted. "I'd like to know how you propose to do that. You're lucky the boy who saved you wasn't hurt."

"As touching as your fatherly concern is, I'm fine." Lucas winced as he sat up. "And I'm the only one who was really hurt, so you can just go on back to Metropolis. I'll take care of things in Smallville. I mean, that's why you sent me here, right? So I could learn to be responsible?" After all, Lionel had already banished him to Smallville. What more was he going to do?

"Know this, Lucas. If you screw this up, I'm not bailing you out." With that, his father turned and left the room.

Lucas picked up the phone next to his bed and dialed the assistant his father had assigned him when he'd been banished to the shit factory. "What kind of cars do the hicks around here drive, anyway?"

Clark took a deep, steadying breath as he turned on the hand-held blowtorch. He'd started with matches and worked his way up. Holding his hand up in front of him, Clark ran the blue flame across his knuckles quickly and then again more slowly. Heat, a little tingly, but not painful. It was an almost pleasant sensation, actually.

Frowning, Clark ran the flame slowly up his forearm and back down, across the skin on the inside of his wrist and nothing. There was no pain at all; not that Clark had really expected any. The hair on his arm wasn't even singed.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway distracted him from his thoughts. He sighed and turned off the blowtorch. He wondered who was visiting, but wasn't too worried that it was someone for him. Being almost a year older than everyone in his class, Clark was the only one of his friends who had a license already.

Taking out his notebook, Clark wrote down his notes from the experiment. The notebook was something he'd been keeping since he started middle school, when his 'gifts' had started to develop more rapidly. Part of him hoped that if he kept a good enough documentation of things, he could eventually figure out what was wrong with him. Another part of him thought it was just a spectacularly organized waste of time.

After rereading what he'd written, Clark tucked the notebook back into its hiding place behind a loose board in the wall of the loft. It wasn't that he really wanted to hide it from his parents; they knew about his gifts. It just wasn't something he was ready to share yet.

He jogged down the stairs and out to the driveway, where his parents were standing, staring at a brand new black Porsche.

"Oh my God," Clark said as he walked around the car, taking a moment to appreciate the sleek lines. He resisted the urge to reach out to touch it, feeling as if it would be disrespectful to the car. It was a really nice car. "Who does this belong to?" He looked around to see who else was there, but it was just his parents.

His mom was frowning slightly as she handed him an envelope. His dad looked like he was ready to explode.

"'Just my way of saying thank you for saving my life,'" he read. "It's from Lucas Luthor."

"Yeah, we figured that one out on our own," his dad said angrily. "What an arrogant--"

"Jonathan."

Clark blinked down at the card in his hand. "He bought me a Porsche?" It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard of. Who bought a farmer's kid a Porsche? Clark was afraid to touch the damn thing. How would he ever drive it?

"Honey, I know you want to keep it," his mom said, the 'but' implicit in her tone.

"But I'll have to return it?" Clark asked, knowing the answer already.

His dad nodded. "I'm sorry, son. It's just..."

"The Luthors?"

Clark had been subject to a rather scathing tirade after his dad had heard who had been driving the sports car. He was now fully caught up on his Luthor history; knew how Lionel had cheated people around Smallville, friends and neighbors, out of their land and money. When he'd told Pete what had happened, he learned that Pete's family had been one of the many screwed over by the Luthors.

Despite all that, however, Clark felt bad about judging Lucas Luthor before he had even met him. He decided to give Lucas a chance before he leapt to any conclusions.

"So, I guess I should take this back then, huh?" Clark asked, staring at the car. He hoped he could get it to the Luthor mansion without breaking it on the way. At least this way, he would get a chance to speak to Lucas.

Lucas turned around, startled to find someone standing in the doorway. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked.

The kid blinked at him for a moment before answering. "Clark. Kent."

It took several long moments for the name to register. "Kent!" Lucas said when it finally clicked. "Right. Come to thank me for the car?"

"Um." Clark shoved his hands in his pockets. "I came to return it, actually."

"Return it?" Lucas laughed. "You're kidding, right? I figured you'd be creaming in your pants right about now. What, you don't like the color?"

Clark gaped at him, his face completely red. "It's not that," he finally managed. "I just can't accept it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucas said, dismissing him. "You saved my life, it's the least I could do."

"Look," Clark said, frowning a little. "I'm sure you're just trying to be nice and all, but I can't keep the car. So, here." He held the keys out, as if he expected Lucas to take them. When Lucas didn't move, Clark set the keys on the table next to the doorway.

"Is it because it's a Porsche? I was advised to get you a truck, but that seemed so hick." Lucas watched Clark's eyes narrowing angrily.

"I have to go," Clark said. "It was nice meeting you."

My, how polite, Lucas thought. "Wait, let me guess. It wasn't the car/truck thing, it was the Luthor thing. Am I right?" He watched as Clark stopped, his whole body stiffening. "I am, aren't I?"

When Clark turned around, he looked almost guilty. "Look, it's not really that--"

"That you don't want the car. It's just that you hate my family, I get it." Lucas was amused at the array of emotions flickering across Clark's face. Guilt then anger then back to guilt again. "God, this town is so fucked up. Never mind that the factory is responsible for ninety percent of the jobs here. Don't worry that LuthorCorp pretty much single handedly supports this town's economy, including your shitty little produce farm. Just so long as you guys don't have to handle something that was purchased with Luthor money directly, right?"

"I...It's not..."

It seemed that Clark was back to blushing and stuttering. He looked thoroughly chastised, which meant it was time to reel him back in. Lucas sighed, trying to look a little hurt, lonely. Poor Lucas, banished to Smallville where everyone hates him before they even know him.

"I guess you should go. Your parents probably wouldn't want you to be talking to me for so long. I just-- I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. I didn't mean to go overboard. You probably hate me now." He put on his most charming, bashful smile. "I guess I've got a lot to learn, huh?" He shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sorry. Apologize to your parents if you think it would help. I was just kind of hoping for a friend here." Lucas winced a little, sure he had gone too far with that last bit.

"Look, I..." Clark sighed. "I don't hate you, Lucas. I don't even know you. I just--yeah. The car was a bit much. You don't have to try so hard to impress people, okay? You're more likely to alienate the people here that way."

Lucas nodded. "Does that mean that we can maybe start over? I really would like for us to be friends, Clark." He grinned, knowing he had won. It looked like Lucas had found his newest source of entertainment while he was in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere.

"I guess so," Clark said, looking beautifully conflicted.

Lucas smiled. This was going to be fun.

"So, everybody knows about this scarecrow deal?" Chloe asked skeptically.

"Well, yeah," Clark said as they sat down at one of the tables outside, the late autumn sun having already warmed the seats.

"It's kind of like a tradition," Pete explained. Somehow Chloe didn't think that made it sound any more legitimate.

"And how long does he stay up there?"

"Um." Pete ducked his head, mumbling his answer into his chest. Chloe turned to Clark for an explanation.

"Usually a few of the guys come back after the dance and take him down." Clark looked down at his sandwich as if it were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

"And?" Chloe prompted when neither of her friends would look at her.

"They give him back his clothes and make him walk home," Pete finally admitted.

"You've got to be kidding me." Chloe set her sandwich down, suddenly not hungry at all. "That's sick!"

"Guys do stuff like that, Chloe." Pete said defensively. "The guys on the football team really aren't that bad. They just do dumb shit sometimes."

"Yeah?" Chloe asked angrily. "And what about everyone else who goes to the football game knowing that there's some poor kid hanging out in a cornfield? What's their excuse?"

Pete opened his mouth to answer the question and then promptly shut it again. Clark didn't even try to hide his look of guilt, which made Chloe smile a little. Clark felt guilty about everything, no matter how much or little he had to do with it. It was kind of sweet, for a Messiah complex.

"You know what we have to do, right?" she asked, looking back and forth between her two friends.

"Oh, no." Pete shook his head. "Don't even think about it, Chloe."

"What?" she blinked, mustering the most innocent expression she could manage.

"You can't do a story on this."

"Why not? Barbaric small-town ritual endangers lives yearly, but nobody does a thing to stop it."

"Yeah, and who do you think will suffer the fallout from it?" Pete asked angrily. "Dammit, Chlo'! People know we're friends. They won't do anything to you directly, they'll just make me and Clark suffer."

Chloe looked at Clark, who merely nodded.

She sighed. She really didn't want to be responsible for Clark and Pete getting harassed. "Fine, I'll stick to the Jeremy Creek story. But..." She chewed her lip for a second. "There's still something we can do."

Pete and Clark stared at her expectantly, and Chloe couldn't quite believe she had to spell it out to them. "We can save whoever ends up being this year's scarecrow. We'll wait out by LuthorCorp until the jocks leave and then untie whatever poor schmuck gets chosen." She fixed them with a determined stare, daring them to wuss out on her.

"I'll be getting ready for the game," Pete said finally, turning an apologetic look on Clark.

"Sure," Clark said finally. "I'll help. I wasn't planning on going to the game anyway."

Clark watched the truck full of jocks drive away, then ran to his own truck, parked a few miles down the road. He pulled up to where the other truck had been before getting out to search for this year's scarecrow, blanket in hand because he wasn't sure if they'd taken the kid's clothes or not. Whitney wasn't with them, which was both a relief and a disappointment. Clark was petty enough to want to find something wrong with Smallville's Golden Boy.

He had convinced Chloe to stay at home, telling her that whoever they'd selected would be embarrassed enough without having to deal with the school newspaper, which is basically what Chloe was.

The sun was starting to set as he walked up to the cross. Dan Sommers was there, naked except for a pair of boxers and a red 'S' sprayed on his chest.

"Clark?" Dan asked, looking utterly miserable.

"I'll have you down in a minute," Clark said as he started to untie the ropes, careful to support Dan's body as his arms fell loose. He felt sick to his stomach as he untied Dan, because Clark knew why they'd chosen him.

Dan wasn't really that small for a freshman, though he was skinny. He was a nice guy, quiet, artistic. Not overtly feminine, but not quite masculine enough for Smallville's standards. Clark had heard some of the names Dan had been called, couldn't begin to imagine the humiliation he'd been subject to during the whole process of being strung up.

"Here," Clark said, wrapping the blanket around Dan's shoulders as he helped him stand up straight. "Did they take your clothes?"

Dan just nodded, not quite looking Clark in the eyes.

"Um, I have my truck, so I can take you home." He turned and started walking back to where he'd parked, not quite sure what else to say or do.

They drove back to Dan's place in silence. Dan sat, huddled against the door of the truck, wrapped in the blanket. When they finally got to his house, Clark parked the truck, turning off the ignition. "Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked quietly, staring straight ahead.

"Um." Dan cleared his throat. "If you wanted to come in for a minute, while I change or whatever, that'd be cool. My parents are at the game."

Clark looked over just in time to see the twist of a bitter smile on Dan's face.

"I'm just going to go take a shower," Dan said as they walked into the house, tracing the red line on his chest absently.

"Sure." Clark nodded. He would hang around until he was sure Dan was okay, feeling suddenly protective. He was glad that could never have been him; Clark would never be that helpless.

But he was helpless in a different way, he realized as he stood in Dan's living room, looking at the pictures on the mantle. He couldn't really fix what had happened, although he suddenly felt incredibly guilty for not stopping it sooner. He had done the bare minimum, saved Dan from a few hours of physical misery, but the emotional damage had already been done, and Clark wasn't sure how to make up for that.

"I think most of it came off," Dan said, startling Clark out of his thoughts.

"Oh. Good." Clark stood there, wishing there was a way he could go back in time and fix this.

"Thank you, Clark," Dan finally said. "For, um. For everything tonight. I really appreciate it."

Clark looked down, studying the pattern in the carpet. "Yeah. I'm sorry. That I didn't stop it earlier, that is."

"Clark." Dan actually sounded a little amused. "You're not responsible for their actions. Besides, you could hardly take them all on, no matter how manly you think you are."

Clark smiled, even as another stab of guilt shot through him. "Do you want me to hang out?" he asked.

"Nah," Dan said, smiling a little. "I think I'm good now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll maybe look into making some voodoo dolls or something."

Clark laughed. "Let me know how that turns out." He checked the clock on the wall, wondering when it had gotten so late. Everybody was probably getting ready for the dance by now. He blinked then, struck with a sudden inspiration. "I guess I'll go then." He may not have the power to turn back time, but Clark wasn't above a little petty revenge on Dan's behalf.

"Thanks again, Clark," Dan said.

Clark nodded. "You're welcome."

Fear and adrenaline rushed through Clark's body along with the electricity. Fear, because he didn't know if this time he would be hurt and adrenaline because as it turned out, he wasn't. He was completely invincible.

He pushed Jeremy back, sending him flying. Jeremy's head hit the wall with a sickening thud, painting the wall bright red as Jeremy collapsed to the ground. Clark ran over to him to check for injuries, found Jeremy's skull split down the middle, blood and brains leaking out.

Blood all over Clark's hands, and Jeremy looked up at him accusingly. "You killed me," he said, his eyes dull, opaque. "It's all your fault!"

"No." Clark shook his head as he backed away, wiping his hands on his pants. He jumped as he bumped into somebody else. It was Dan, standing there in his boxers, a red 'S' painted on his chest. "No," he repeated.

"Shh, Clark." Dan smiled. "It's okay, because you saved me."

Clark nodded, a little confused. Yes, he'd saved Dan.

"I wanted to thank you," Dan said, walking closer until he was almost pressed up against Clark. "Let me thank you."

"Um." Clark tried to move away, but couldn't move his legs. He could only lean forward and Dan's body was so warm.

"It's okay," Dan repeated as he ran his hands up Clark's bare arms. He reached around, cupping the back of Clark's neck, pulling him down, so strong, even though Clark wasn't really resisting.

Warm lips against his, hot hands all over Clark's body. Clark moaned, kissing Dan back. He wrapped his arms around Dan's body, pulling him closer, but then there was a hideous crack, and Dan was pushing away.

Clark pulled back, not sure what had happened. When he looked at his hands, they were covered in red. Dan was looking at him, his eyes hollow; black holes. The 'S' on his chest was dripping. It wasn't spray paint.

"What did you do?" Dan asked.

"Freak!"

Clark spun around to find Lana staring at him, horror written all over her face. Her green necklace was glowing, pulsing in accusation and Clark felt a searing pain run through his body, bringing him to his knees.

"You okay there, Kent?" Whitney asked as he wrapped his arm around Lana.

"I--" Clark tried to speak, but the pain was overwhelming.

"Clark?" Whitney asked again. "Clark! Time to go."

"Clark! We're going to be late!"

Clark blinked as the pain suddenly disappeared, his bedroom ceiling replacing the image of Whitney's face.

"Are you still asleep?" his mom called from downstairs.

"I'll be down in a second," he called, racing to the bathroom and promptly throwing up, which was a new experience. "This has to stop," he whispered to himself.

He was getting nowhere fast with his experiments. Clark was no closer to learning about why he was so different than he had been three years ago. If anything, he was more confused than ever and last night's fight with Jeremy had just raised the stakes.

Nobody had been hurt and Jeremy hadn't remembered what happened, but Clark had been thoroughly shaken. He needed answers and he was pretty sure his parents could provide them.

"Clark, now!" his dad called.

Unfortunately, it would have to wait until after the Farmer's Market.

Lucas walked around the booths, observing the quaint ritual of the Farmer's Market with tolerant amusement. He could hardly believe this town was for real. Across the way, he saw Clark standing with a man Lucas assumed was his father. They were talking to the quar