Many thanks go to Thistle90 for betaing this puppy for me. I also totally forgot to thank her for looking over "Fire in the Blood." Bad author! Bad author! Any mistakes are, of course, my own.

You show your pain like it really hurts And I can't even start to feel mine.

Bruce Wayne was most assuredly not looking at the clock on his desk, because if he deigned to notice the time then he might have to acknowledge the fact that his roommate hadn't returned yet from holiday. And if he admitted that he had noticed his roommate's absence, people might think he actually cared about the little bald headed freak he was forced to share a room with, which he most decidedly did not.

He could, however, confess that he was curious as to how Luthor would respond to his latest move on the chessboard. If pushed, he would proclaim that the move was brilliant and he was simply interested in Luthor's reaction.

Luthor had been transferred to Excelsior at the tender age of eleven, apparently a few weeks after being released from an extended stay at one of Metropolis' finest private hospitals. The kid had been caught in the midst of a meteor storm, although what he had been doing in a cornfield in the middle of Kansas was still beyond Bruce.

The radiation from the meteor had rendered the boy bald and, unlike most cancer survivors, there was no indication that the boy's hair would ever grow back. His...uniqueness...immediately set him apart from the other students. Bruce hadn't given Luthor any sort of favorable odds of surviving until midterms. The pranks, the shovings, the out-and-out beatings had taken their toll on a body that was already painfully fragile. But survive he did.

When Luthor came back from the post-midterm break, he came back not only with an attitude, but also with a certain amount of skill to back up his mouth. More than once, Bruce had shaken his head in wonder at the kid who couldn't be kept down.

Academically, Luthor excelled. While Bruce was three years older, Luthor was in most of his classes. A friendly, unspoken competition had evolved between them, with each striving to out-excel the other. Their academic rivalry left the other students, brilliant in their own right, choking in their dust.

When Luthor turned twelve the school, in its infinite wisdom, decided to force a bond between its two most unbondable students, despite their age differences. Bruce had appealed the decision and had taken his petition all the way up to the Board of Governors, but ultimately his lobby had failed.

Luthor didn't even blink when Bruce gave him the rules by which he was expected to abide. He had simply smirked once, then gone back to studying, a form of defense which Bruce understood all too well.

Over time, Bruce had to admit the kid was a good roommate. His side of the room was always kept immaculate; he studied all the time; and never, ever asked Bruce for help with his studies. If Bruce's presence in the hallways made the bullies back down from their campaign of pain, it was nothing more than a happy coincidence. If one of the more persistent bullies found himself in a headlock in a dark hallway, which Bruce would deny without photographic proof, then it was only because he had wanted to be sure the bully understood the school's laughable canons of brotherhood.

When the doorknob finally rattled, Bruce picked up his textbook and affected the most bored attitude he could manage, which was difficult to maintain when one of the school's administrators stepped into the room.

"Master Bruce." The administrator entered the room and set two suitcases on Luthor's bed. As soon as he had accomplished the task, he turned and moved back into the hallway, only to return a moment later, gently guiding Luthor into the room.

"Here we are, Master Lex."

Luthor never said a word as the administrator situated him onto his bed. Once Luthor was settled, the man straightened, obviously conflicted about leaving the boy unattended, but apparently not knowing what else to do.

"Right, then," he said quietly, then left.

Bruce openly studied the shell-shocked figure. There was no doubt in his mind that Luthor was suffering from shock. He was having a hard time accepting the fact that the staff member hadn't informed Luthor's parents of his condition. But then again, the administrator's reluctance to leave indicated that maybe he had. Lionel Luthor was a notorious bastard, but surely he would make sure his son had proper medical care.

"Rough holiday?" Bruce asked, not exactly sure how to engage his roommate.

Luthor's eyes didn't even flicker in his direction.

Bruce laid his book down on the mattress beside him and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. His roommate was even paler than he had been when he first arrived at Excelsior the previous year. Bruce noticed a fine tremor wrack the slender body.

"Luthor?"

Again, no response.

Bruce moved off his bed and knelt in front of his roommate. "Alexander?" he asked softly.

Blue eyes slowly drifted toward his for the first time.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

The boy remained silent, although he did blink, making Bruce feel confident that he was actually being heard.

When Luthor's eyes started to take on a wild look, Bruce shook his head. "You're safe. Nothing can happen to you here."

Luthor shook his head back and forth in minute movements, his gaze never leaving Bruce's.

"No," Bruce said in his most authoritative voice. "You are safe here." He paused for a moment, debating whether or not to actually touch the boy and decided against it. "You need to tell me what happened, Alexander. Can you do that?"

Luthor swallowed hard, his eyes slowly revealing a pain so deep and so raw that it sliced through Bruce's defenses. It was a pain Bruce saw every time he looked into a mirror.

"B-b-b-baby."

"Baby? What baby? What's wrong with the baby?"

Luthor closed his eyes. "J-J-Julian."

Bruce's heart dropped into his stomach. Julian was Luthor's baby brother. He knew Luthor had been excited by the prospect of being an older brother. The trip home was to be Luthor's introduction to the weeks old infant.

"Dead," Luthor said in the most soulless voice Bruce had ever heard. "Julian's dead, Bruce. The baby's dead."

And now you've crossed that line
You can't come back again.

Lionel Luthor looked over the Metropolis skyline and poured himself a snifter of scotch from the penthouse bar. "Your personal items should arrive from Smallville late tomorrow morning."

Lex looked up from the plush leather chair and frowned. "I was living in Smallville?"

Turning to study his son for a moment, Lionel took a sip of the drink in his hand. "Yes."

"Smallville? Where I lost my hair, Smallville?" Lex asked with quiet incredulousness.

"It's also the site of our number three fertilizer plant." Lionel leaned against the bar and raised a slightly challenging eyebrow.

Lex shook his head in amazement. "I was--"

"Running it."

"Running it?" Lex blinked with amazement. "I was running the crap factory?"

"Very successfully, I might add."

"What did I do to warrant such an exile?"

Opening his mouth to speak, Lionel paused for a moment as he moved to the chair opposite his son. "It's not important now. I made a mistake in sending you to Smallville. I let my anger dictate my actions and now regret the hastiness of my actions. But no matter, you're back by my side now and together we will rule Metropolis."

"I was rather under the impression we ruled it now."

Making a big show out of his shrug, Lionel chuckled and spread his hands expansively. "Well, yes. But one must appear to have some modicum of modesty, if only for show."

Lex shook his head with quiet amusement, but said nothing.

"Tomorrow, we'll--"

"Father."

Lionel seemed startled by the interruption. "Yes, Lex."

"Why am I back in Metropolis?"

Lionel set his snifter on the end table and stood. "There was," he paused dramatically, "an incident."

"Was anyone hurt?" Lex asked in a near whisper.

"A young woman, although it happened after you had left. However, the family's name-"

"Is she--"

"She's alive and recovering. LuthorCorp will pay for all of her medical expenses and make sure she's compensated adequately for her pain."

Lex swallowed hard.

"As I was saying, tomorrow we'll--"

"Father?"

Lionel sighed impatiently. "Yes, Lex."

"I know you have plans to groom me to be the next conqueror of the business world, but I'd like to work in Acquisitions for a while."

Pacing, Lionel frowned. "Nonsense, the best thing to do when you fall off the horse is to get back in the--"

"I understand that, father. I do. I'm just...tired."

"A Luthor--"

Lex met his father's gaze and held it. "If I make the commitment to expand LuthorCorp's gross profits five percent every year, will you let me storm the business world in my own way?"

Lionel saw something in his son's eyes that made him pause. He sat back down in his chair and studied the young man in front of him for a moment. "I don't approve of your hiding, Lex."

Lex chuckled, although there was little humor in the noise. "Father, I don't remember enough of my immediate past to warrant the need to hide. I just...I'm just tired. Bone tired." Lex sighed. "If I can't accomplish what I intend, then we'll do things your way. Deal?"

Sinking against the back cushion, Lionel steepled his fingers under his chin and thought for several moments. "Fifteen percent."

"Ten."

"Deal."

"Deal."

And everything that was your world
Just came down.

A week had passed since Luthor's return and during that time the boy had thrown himself so deeply into his studies that Bruce found himself scrambling to keep abreast. He was annoyed at himself for being so distracted, but there was a grace to the boy's inner strength that fascinated him.

The bullies no longer sought Luthor out to be their punching bag. In fact, they started to give him a wide berth. Bruce had no clue how to soothe his roommate's soul, but he could make sure the boy didn't have to deal with any unnecessary... complications. Having been where Luthor was, it was the least he could do. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it would have to suffice.

Nights were the only time when Luthor's faade cracked, when the seconds dragged into minutes and lifetimes could be lived in an hour. This was Bruce's time, the time when he felt the safest, the strongest; the time when he could take off the mask of indifference and breathe, knowing no one could see him.

"Bruce," Luthor called out softly from his own bed.

He considered ignoring the boy, yet couldn't deny the sad voice. "Yes."

"I think...I think my father killed Julian."

Bruce sat straight up in bed. "That's a serious accusation."

"I know." Luthor never moved, still facing the wall beside his bed.

"Why make it now?"

He could hear Luthor swallow nervously. "Because I can't make the images go away."

"Images?"

"Images of him holding Julian in his left arm," Luthor said, breathily, like he was trying not to cry. "His forehead leaning against the baby's and his free hand covering Julian's mouth and nose. He's crooning, 'sweet, beautiful bastard' over and over again."

"Did you see him?"

"The baby had been crying for almost an hour," Luthor said, ignoring his question. "I've read a lot about SIDS, so when he stopped, I got nervous. I just needed to make sure he was all right, to satisfy myself that he was only sleeping."

"Alexander, did you actually see your father holding the baby?"

"Yes."

"Maybe he was trying to resuscitate it. After all, you had just awoken--"

"No. The baby had been keeping me awake."

"Surely, you don't think--"

"He knows, Bruce."

"What?"

"He saw me. He saw me standing in the doorway."

In the quiet moments while the city's still dark Sleepwalking through the summer rain and the tired spaces.

Lex sliced the surface of the water with his toes and released the breath he felt like he'd been holding for four years. He leaned his head back on his shoulders, studied the moon shining brightly in the night sky and enjoyed the light, warm breeze that caressed his skin. He had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the outdoors and spent the next several minutes reliving certain fond memories of his time on the Montana ranch.

He wondered what his father's reaction would be to his wanting to re-buy the spread. Lionel would no doubt consider it a frivolous waste of money. And it would be, considering the costs of maintaining a working ranch to the amount of time he'd actually get to spend on the property. But still, he considered it, if only for sentimental reasons.

It would be nice to have somewhere to go without the constant threat of the paparazzi; pleasant to walk outside and not worry about reporters jumping out of bushes and asking which company he was going to take over next.

While the tower had been his sanctuary for the last couple of years, it was starting to chaff and he felt like he had an inside track as to why Quasimodo yearned to see what was beyond the bell tower's walls.

LuthorCorp, which was already a company to be reckoned with in the world of business and technology, was becoming a superpower, thanks to Lex. As LuthorCorp grew, it was becoming harder and harder to increase the gross profits each year by ten percent. Ten percent of billions was staggering. In order to maintain what little freedom he had, he had to expand LuthorCorp's interests by utterly destroying the competition.

What soothed his conscience was that his research and tactics were all above board and legal. If a CEO had authorized shady dealings, and Lex could prove it, it was simply a matter of offering to buy the company instead of handing his investigation materials over to the authorities. Clerical errors on incorporation documents or filings with the Fair Trade Commission accounted for a lot of his early success. He was ruthless in his research. Only the righteous survived his scrutiny.

He laughed softly at himself. Lex Luthor, once the scourge of the Metropolis nightlife was now the bane of the business world, the unblinking high priest to a vengeful God.

Ironically, he was even living the life of a priest. Not that his father hadn't tried to tempt him with several of his business allies' succulent daughters, but Lex didn't trust himself not to hurt them like he had one Ms. Lana Lang of Smallville, a supposed business partner. Well, technically, still his business partner, since she still ran the Talon. The thought of hurting another innocent was more than he could bear. And while the fatted calves being presented to him could hardly be considered innocent, he still didn't want them terrorized.

Moreover, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he would be betraying someone if chose to indulge in meaningless physical release.

Research had shown that he had married twice while he was in Smallville. Once to a woman named Desiree Atkins, who had seduced another man into trying to kill Lex for her, and once to a doctor named Helen Price. The first marriage had been annulled within weeks of the vows. The second was still technically on the books, although his wife was missing at sea and presumed dead.

He found it interesting that both women had been older and wondered if he had some sort of mother fixation. Wouldn't that make his therapist's year? He wasn't sure how he'd react to having a woman show up in the lobby claiming to be his wife, although watching his father try to contain the situation would no doubt be incredibly entertaining.

Despite knowing about his marriages, he didn't feel like either woman might be the one he'd be betraying by an indiscretion. The thought of an affair unsettled him, for that would make him more his father's son than he was comfortable with being. Yet, would he have such deep feelings for a supposed fling? He chuckled again. Deep feelings for a ghost of a memory. Maybe he really was as unstable as his father was always insinuating.

He gripped the pebble-encrusted retaining wall and leaned forward slightly, sinking his feet deeper into the lake.

If he had indulged in an affair, wouldn't the woman have tried to contact him by now? Would he even know if she'd tried? After all, Lionel's security was impenetrable.

"If you keep leaning forward, you're going to get wetter than I suspect you want," an amused male voice said from the shadows behind him.

Lex leaned back and scanned the surrounding trees, but could see nothing. "Perhaps, but it's a lovely evening for a swim."

"True, but you didn't bring a change of clothing, which means you'd have to walk home soaking wet."

"I don't live too far away."

"Somehow I don't think Luthors and algae mix well."

"You have me at a disadvantage, I fear."

"I thought Luthors didn't show fear."

"A man who doesn't know fear is a fool."

"That doesn't sound like something Lionel would say."

"Ah, I see you know my father then."

The voice chuckled with dry humor. "I don't think there is anyone in Metropolis who doesn't know Lionel Luthor." The voice paused. "Although his much-feared son is more reclusive."

Lex lifted his left foot out of the water and shook it dry. "I don't grant interviews." He turned slightly and removed his right foot from the lake as well.

"Good to know," the voice said.

Lex pulled a sock over each of his damp feet.

"I didn't mean to intrude," the voice said, sincerely. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't fall into the lake."

"Because who would save a Luthor from drowning?" Lex snapped.

The voice barked with laughter. "Have many issues?"

Lex paused while slipping his loafer onto his right foot and rested his forehead against his knee. "My apologies."

"Don't worry. I can understand why talking to strangers would make you nervous."

Lex put on his remaining shoe, but made no attempt to leave. "Well, I must say, I'm intrigued. Besides saving recluses from near brushes with algae, and recognizing corporate marauders in the dark, is there any particular reason you're in the park so late at night?"

"I'm not a mugger if that's what you mean."

"I didn't think you were."

"No?"

Lex chuckled. "No. Even I know it would have been easier to take my wallet if I was soaking wet."

"There is that," the voice said with amusement.

"But that doesn't really answer my original question."

The stranger released a quiet sigh. "I don't sleep much anymore."

"Welcome to my world."

"Conscience problems?"

"Ow."

"I'm..." The voice sighed again. "That was...Now you have my apologies as well."

"Don't feel bad. Almost everyone takes potshots at Luthors. It's something of a local sport. Some of the shots, okay, most of them, are even deserved."

"Almost everyone?"

"Well, I did meet a Buddhist priest once who was too Zen for me to rile."

The voice chuckled, then sobered. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

Lex waved off the apology. "No harm, no foul."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and still Lex felt no urge to leave. "Am I keeping you from saving any other billionaires from drowning?"

A chortle of amusement echoed around him. "Actually, no. I was calling it a night when I spotted you."

"Well, then, I should let you--"

"I'm in no hurry."

Lex nodded in acknowledgement, but doubted his visitor could see him.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage in the name department," Lex said after a moment.

There was an uncomfortable pause, but finally the voice said, "Kal."

And I spent all my wishes
Wishing times were good

"Why don't you come to the manor for the holidays?" Bruce surprised himself by offering as the Christmas break drew closer.

Luthor grinned at him, not one of the expressions he usually foisted on the staff when they asked him how he was doing, but a genuine smile. However, as fast as it showed up, it disappeared. "I can't."

"Alexander--"

"My mother has been quite ill. Her heart...losing Julian--"

"I understand."

Reluctantly, Bruce turned back to his desk and tried to delve once again into his history paper. But no matter how hard he tired, he couldn't concentrate.

It had been several weeks since Luthor's midnight confession and despite his numerous attempts to draw the boy out, Luthor refused to say anything more about the incident, stating that Bruce had no doubt been correct when he speculated that he had simply misinterpreted what he'd seen. Despite the casual reassurance, Bruce couldn't shake the feeling he had somehow failed Luthor and worried that the boy might really be in danger.

"Thank you, Bruce."

The quiet voice tugged at a place in his chest where he suspected his heart once beat. He turned back and faced his roommate. "You need to be careful when you go home."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Alexander. If your father--"

"I'll be careful, Bruce. I promise."

Bruce studied the boy's face until he was satisfied that Luthor understood the gravity of his situation, nodded once, then turned back to his assignment.

For all you know
This could be.

"Kal," Lex repeated softly, then frowned. "Kal. You don't mean Kal-El, the vigilante."

"I prefer concerned citizen," Kal said with amusement.

"I'm sure you do." Lex laughed. "Is it true you can fly?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Not wow?"

"No, definitely wow. It's just not a term I ever expected to hear a Luthor utter."

"Why not?"

"Because once you start on the downward spiral of using vernacular, where will the madness end? The next thing you know the news will be reporting that they heard you say 'golly gee whiz' or something equally embarrassing."

Lex snickered, feeling lighter than he had in months.

"Would you like to find out?" Kal asked.

"What? You mean, how my father would react if he ever heard me say 'golly gee whiz'?"

"No," Kal said softly. "Do you want to understand the wow of flying?"

For reasons he didn't understand, Lex's amusement died abruptly, although he tried to rekindle it. "I...I make it a practice not to fly with strange men I've just met."

"You'll be perfectly safe."

Lex rose gracefully to his feet, intent on heading home. "I appreciate the offer, but--"

"Come on, Lex." Before he could reflect on the casualness with which Kal used his name, the man was standing directly behind him. Lex could feel Kal's warm breath against the back of his head. "Trust me."

"I don't even know you," he whispered.

"Yes, you do."

"Do I?" The urge to turn and face Kal was overwhelming, but for reasons Lex didn't fully fathom, he made no attempt to do so.

"Don't you?" the voice asked seductively by his other ear. "Hold out your arms."

Hesitantly, Lex complied and tried not to tremble as the warm body pressed behind his. He barely breathed as Kal's hands ghosted down the length of his arms and encircled his wrists.

"We'll go straight up at first. If it makes you feel any better, you can wrap your feet around my ankles."

"I--"

Kal shushed him softly, and it took every ounce of willpower Lex possessed not to lean back into him. He knew trusting this stranger was madness, yet before he could form another half-hearted excuse as to why he shouldn't allow this impropriety, they began to rise through the air.

Luthor. Alexander, Bruce amended, had returned from his Christmas vacation intact, although paler than Bruce thought he should be. When pressed, Alexander would only say that his mother's health was concerning him.

January, while strained, quickly segued into February. As long as Alexander didn't get too many phone calls from home, he flourished, although every spare moment not devoted to his studies was spent in the science lab, as if a twelve year old could truly discover a cure for heart disease.

When Alexander returned from Spring Break, no mention was made of his father, but he happily reported that his mother seemed to be doing much better.

In April, he and Alexander collaborated on a science project that won accolades on a national level. Bruce didn't miss the fact that only Alexander's pale, but beautiful, mother attended the ceremony.

On the day of their last final, Alexander received the call Bruce had been dreading, but fully expecting. The call to come home. Quickly.

He watched silently as Alexander packed, thinking he should say something, but not knowing anything even remotely appropriate. The boy snapped his suitcase shut and all but ran for the door and the limousine they both knew would be waiting in front of their dormitory.

When he reached the doorway, Alexander stopped and looked back at him.

"Call me," he told the boy.

Alexander nodded, then hesitated for a moment. Before Bruce could inquire about the delay, the boy dropped his suitcase in the middle of the hallway, ran back into the room and threw his arms tightly around Bruce's chest. He then turned and made his escape.

Bruce stayed rooted for several moments, not sure what to do with the emotions clanging around his chest like bats trapped within a belfry. He moved woodenly toward the window and watched Alexander race down the granite steps of the hall. The boy threw his suitcase through the open door, but before he jumped into the waiting car, he paused and looked up at the window. A small, brave smile appeared momentarily on his face, then he was gone.

You're ready to fly
I'm ready to crash.

"I...we're..."

"Yes, we are."

Lex watched as the lights below them grew smaller, and shivered slightly as the winds around them grew stronger. There was a freedom he never dreamed possible in flying, as if all his worries and problems were held hostage by the laws of gravity, trapped on the planet while they rose ever higher.

"Clouds?" he asked, wistfully.

"As you wish," Kal answered in a low, solemn voice.

Lex felt a moment of panic when they leaned forward, but remembered Kal's suggestion and quickly wrapped his feet around the ankles of the man behind him. The wind whipped around them as Kal increased his speed. Lex wanted to shout with laughter, but ended up gasping when Kal playfully rolled them.

A large cloud drifted aimlessly in front of them and before he could form a coherent thought, they were floating in the middle of it.

"Warrior Angel, eat your heart out," Kal whispered in his ear.

"You know about...of course you do."

Lex reached forward in wonder to card his fingers through the cloud and Kal shifted his hold to Lex's chest. Without any real thought in mind, he turned his head to look at Kal and was surprised as warm lips tentatively caressed his. Kal hesitated when Lex started, an apology already beginning to form in his throat. Lex reached behind him and cupped the smooth cheek, drawing Kal closer again. Kal whimpered and kissed him hungrily. Feeling calmer than he had in a lifetime, Lex lost himself in the contact, moaning when he parted his lips and Kal's tongue invaded his mouth.

But as abruptly as their passion had started, it ended. "It'll be light soon," Kal said in quiet apology.

"Time for the dream to end?"

Kal remained silent and Lex was unsure how to interpret the lack of response. As they descended, he was surprised to realize they were in the alley behind LuthorCorp tower. Lex took the opportunity once they landed to turn and look at the man behind him, but could only make out Kal's profile.

"I'm not normally this easy," Lex said, for lack of anything better to say.

"Yes, you are."

Chuckling, Lex had to nod. "Once upon a time."

Kal remained silent, worrying Lex.

"Will I...see...you again?"

Kal hesitated. "I don't normally..."

"So why me?"

"Because I've missed you." The confession was made so quietly that Lex wasn't sure he heard it right.

"What? Are you saying we know each other? That we've done this before?"

"Well, not exactly this," Kal said with an embarrassed chuckle.

Lex grasped him by the upper arm. "Are you saying we know each other?"

"I've failed you in so many ways."

"What? How?"

A shaft of light peaked over the roof of the building beside them, painting the sky with muddy grays.

"I have to go."

"Kal--"

Kal stumbled back a step. "Forgive me." With that, he rose into the air and disappeared.

Lex watched Kal retreat, his mind buzzing with questions for which he had no answers. Did Kal have something to do with his missing memories? Was he the reason his father watched him like a hawk?

For years he had resigned himself to not being able to remember his past. Leaning against the alley wall, Lex grew more determined than ever to discover what exactly it was he'd lost.

We all know
There's always something tearing you apart.

Bruce spent most of the summer trying to forget the fact that he even knew an Alexander J. Luthor. He had his own pursuits, his own goals, which he threw himself into as if his very life depended on accomplishing them. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the sight of the small valiant smile.

In early August, he received the call he had been expecting all summer.

"The meds were wrong, Bruce."

"Alexander? What happened?"

"Somehow she was given benzodiazepine, which doesn't make any sense because everyone knows that it'd be refractory to her treatment of amlodipine. I heard a nurse say she had abnormally high benzodiazepine plasma, but no one will show me the autopsy report."

"Alexander, you need to slow down."

"Bruce, she didn't have to die."

"Alexander--"

"No! I need that report. Do you have any contacts? Is there any way you can get it?"

"Alexander--"

"Please, Bruce. I wasn't...I wasn't there when she died. I should have been there, but I wasn't. Maybe I could have--"

"You couldn't have prevented the inevitable, Alex."

"I would have caught the benzodiazepine." Bruce heard a stifled sob on the other end of the phone, and shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to comfort his friend. "I think he ordered--"

"What? Who ordered--"

"Hello? Lex, is that you? Are you using the phone?" The familiar smooth voice of Lionel Luthor drifted over the line.

Bruce didn't miss the boy's sharp intake of breath.

"Yes, father. I'm talking to Bruce." When Lionel didn't say anything, Alex added, "Wayne. From school."

"Ah," came the knowing voice. "I'm sorry, son, but I need the phone. Can you call Bruce back later?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, father. Bruce, I'll see you when the semester begins again."

Bruce's hand trembled as he put the silent receiver back in its cradle.

Out there right now someone's feeling Down on themselves and don't know why.

Outside the numerous police reports that littered his desk, Lex found there was very little information about Kal-El. The man obviously suffered from some sort of savior complex, just like the vigilante in Gotham who held himself out as Batman. Between the two of them, there wasn't a single tree-stranded kitten in either city.

Lex leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, ashamed of his uncharitable thought. At least they were out in the world trying to make a difference. They weren't destroying other peoples' livelihoods in order to gain their own puny freedom from the devil. They were helping their fellow man. Noble really.

Wearily, he opened the envelope lying on this desk and started to read the segment descriptions his assistant had assembled from The Planet, the local television news show. He slipped the DVD into his computer and picked what he hoped would be the most revealing segment.

Lex paused the computer and studied the picture of the man who had taken him flying three nights before. Kal-El looked nothing like Lex thought he would, although if pressed, Lex knew he wouldn't have been able to articulate what exactly he had expected. While the image on the screen showed a confident blue-eyed man, a man at home with the power he exuded, Lex kept getting flashes a blushing, bumbling teenager, with a shy smile and green eyes.

After watching a couple of the segments, it quickly became apparent that Lois Lane had it bad for the 'man of steel' as she called him. Superman. Lex huffed in quiet amusement. For some reason, he didn't get the feeling that Kal-El much appreciated the name. After all, when he identified himself from the shadows he hadn't said Superman, he had said Kal.

Lex slid the second DVD into his computer and only half-listened to the various interviews as he continued to skim through the police reports.

Why do you do it? Lane asked.

Looking upward, Lex smiled as Kal fidgeted, distinctly uncomfortable. Because it's the right thing to do.

Have you ever failed to rescue someone?

Yes.

Can you elaborate?

Even with these powers, I can't save everyone, Ms. Lane.

You're glossing.

Lex had to give the reporter credit. As much as Superman fascinated her, she was still a reporter and still asked the hard questions.

I suppose I am.

Superman?

There have been three people in my life I've failed. Two of them are dead and the other is lost to me, although I still live in hope that one day I can reach him.

Even though Lane continued to ask questions, Kal used his charm and wit to misdirect them and quickly found an excuse to leave.

Him.

Lex closed his eyes and remembered the alley.

I've failed you in so many ways.

Was he the one who had set the man of steel on his path? And how had Kal failed him? Lex pressed both hands to his head. And why, why couldn't he remember anything?

And that's all I need,
Someone else to cling to
Someone I can lean on.

Bruce paced anxiously beside the outer wall of the dormitory. In the two weeks since Alex had called, Bruce had tried to reach him several times, but each time a member of the Luthor's household staff had told him that Master Lex was indisposed.

He tried to shove aside his fears for Alex's safety, tried to tell himself that the boy had been distraught over the death of his mother. Lionel Luthor, while a son of a bitch, was the boy's father, and not only that but a respected member of the business community. Surely he wasn't a monster.

Still, he was concerned. The autopsy report that Alfred had been able to obtain for him made no mention of benzodiazepine in Lillian Luthor's system, not that he really expected it would. What concerned him was the fact that there was absolutely no trace of the nurse who was on duty the day Alex's mother died. Her supervisor claimed that Ms. Luthor's death had so distraught the young nurse that she resigned on the spot. Alfred was still trying to locate her, but hadn't had any luck so far.

Convenient.

Bruce smelled a cover up. He was growing increasingly disturbed by the sheer number of roadblocks set in his path. Someone was going to a lot of time and expense to cover their tracks - which pointed to someone with a lot to lose and a lot of money to make sure things were done right.

When he returned to Excelsior, he had been informed that Master Lex had requested his own room. Bruce knew that to be an outright lie, but had no recourse but to accept the situation. Bruce might be at Excelsior under his own power and expense, but he was still only sixteen, which put him at a serious disadvantage when it came to dealing with the bureaucracy. He was able, after threatening to move to another school, to get Alex assigned to the room next to his.

Night fell before a stretch limousine pulled in front of the building. Bruce pressed himself into the shadows and watched as Lionel Luthor emerged from the back of the car. The man frowned as if he'd smelled something distasteful, then bent over and spoke sharply into the car. A moment later Alex emerged, head down and shoulders hunched. Lionel gripped Alex's shoulder and Bruce watched helplessly as pain flashed over the boy's features. Alex staggered slightly when Lionel released him and headed up the steps. Absently rubbing his neck, the boy glanced ever so briefly toward Bruce's window before he jogged after his father.

Bruce felt something within him melt at the small telling gesture. While momentarily conquered, Alex was still holding out hope that Bruce would rescue him.

Bruce swore not to fail the boy.

He stayed in the shadows until Lionel came back out of the building, less than twenty minutes later. Without a backwards glance, the older Luthor got in the limo and drove away.

Bruce wheeled to the back of the building and raced up the stairwell. He stopped before he reached his floor and took several deep breaths until he got his heart rate back under control. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to go through the door.

The door to Alex's room was opened and he spent several moments watching the boy put his belongings, ever so precisely, in their proper place. Bruce felt a wave of sadness sweep over him. If something wasn't done and done soon, Alex would be forced down the same path that Bruce had taken. And as much as he longed for company, there simply wasn't room for a gentle heart in Bruce's darkness.

He stepped into the room. "You're late," he said, gruffly.

Alex spun, a look of terror crossing his face.

Bruce frowned, not sure what to make of the boy's reaction; but understanding dawned quickly as the boy's eyes flickered around the room.

Listening devises.

"Luthors are never late," Alex said, sounding cocky, if one was able to ignore the treble in his voice. "We simply appreciate the fine art of making a noticeable entrance."

Bruce rolled his gaze heavenward. Alex leaned forward slightly, like he wanted to take a step toward Bruce but was visibly restrained from doing so.

"Well, I would appreciate your making an entrance in my room now, so you can gather the crap you left behind last semester."

Alex paled, but nodded, and obediently followed Bruce.

As soon as they were both in his room, Bruce shut the door behind them.

"Wh-what did you want me to gather?"

Bruce sighed heavily and Alex dropped his gaze to his feet.

Feeling more awkward than he had in years, Bruce stepped forward and slowly wrapped his arms around the trembling boy. He closed his eyes in relief when timid arms squeezed him back. "I believe you, Alex," Bruce whispered. "I believe you."

Feels like you made a mistake
You made somebody's heart break.

"You're going to start rumors if you keep showing up in the park after dark," a quiet but amused voice said from the trees.

Lex walked blindly into the copse of trees and stopped when he could no longer see the park behind him or the trees in front of him. "I wouldn't be a Luthor if I didn't have at least a half dozen rumors circulating about me at any given moment."

"Your father--"

"Is in India and his lapdogs stopped watching me two years into my confinement. I was apparently boring them with my inactivity."

"It's dangerous for you to be here."

"I had to see..." Lex chuckled. "Or rather, hear you again."

"Why?"

"Because you have the answers I'm seeking."

"I can't give them to you."

"Why not?"

"Because your safety lies in your ignorance, and I can't protect you while you're in the tower."

"I don't understand?"

"Your father has peppered the roof and lined all the entrances with kryptonite."

"I'm not in the tower now."

A warm hand gently touched his chest. "I know, but I can't lose you again."

"You don't have me now."

A forehead came to rest on Lex's shoulder. "God, you always were so stubborn."

Swallowing hard, Lex dared to reach out and ghost the chest in front of him. "Were we--"

"No," came the whispered reply.

"Did you want--"

"Yes."

"Who were you?"

"Just a friend."

"I don't think there's any 'just' about it," Lex said with quiet amusement. "I can't imagine knowing anyone like you. You don't act like you come from money."

Kal chuckled. "I think you may have just insulted me."

Lex gasped with sudden insight. "You're from Smallville, aren't you?"

The figure stiffened and stepped away from him.

"Kal--"

"Please, Lex, if your father even suspects--"

"I can take care of myself, Kal. I'm not some damn heroine from a Harlequin romance in need of rescue." Lex paused. "Just what are you afraid of?"

Leaves crackled and stirred, letting him know that Kal was fidgeting in the darkness.

"Kal."

Kal stilled and whispered, "I had so many secrets..."

"And you didn't trust me," Lex said, feeling the truth, more than knowing it.

"I was a teenager, Lex."

"All right. You were a teenager. So what are you afraid of now?"

"That you won't be able to forgive me."

Tell me how are
We going to make it last.

As long as Alex was ensconced at Excelsior, Bruce believed the boy would be safe, but as the days passed he began to have less and less faith in that conviction. Alex wasn't rebounding like he had the last time he returned to school. The boy continued to look pale and was having trouble concentrating on his studies. He had also developed a nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck, which was making the vulnerable skin red and irritated.

The phone calls in the middle of the night weren't helping either. Even though the walls were thick, Bruce could hear the stressed tone of Alex's voice when he answered. The boy was becoming more and more distressed with each passing night. When Bruce inquired about the calls, all Alex would say was that his father was calling him from overseas.

Bruce admired Alex's reserve and the fact that he wasn't talking about his suspicions while they still lacked solid proof, yet at the same time he was frustrated that Alex wouldn't elaborate on his theories. Once Bruce had told him about the autopsy report, an aura of hopelessness swirled around the boy and he became reticent in all matters, not just the ones concerning his mother's death.

Looking up from his desk, Bruce frowned as he managed to catch the vaguest hint of someone singing in the distance. He glanced at the clock on his desk; it was a little past midnight. With his heart sinking into his stomach, he followed the noise to Alex's room and found the boy huddled in the far corner, holding something in his arms.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word, I'm going to--"

"Alex."

Alex looked up at him. "Sh. I just got him to sleep."

"Who, Alex?"

The boy blinked at him in surprise, like he couldn't believe that Bruce didn't know the answer. "Julian. He was crying earlier. Dad doesn't...I...I don't handle his crying very well. But it's okay now, I got him to fall asleep again. See." Alex turned slightly and revealed the tightly wrapped towel cradled in his arms.

Bruce understood grief all too well and the madness that could come from not releasing the emotion, but the thought of what Lionel Luthor would do to his son if he got a whiff of his confusion was enough to prompt him into immediate action. "You shouldn't be on the floor, Alex. Why don't we take Julian into my room? You know it's quieter in there."

Alex considered the request for a moment, then nodded. Bruce carefully helped the boy to his feet and guided him into his room.

"Why don't you lie down next to the baby for a while and see if you can get some rest while he sleeps."

"I am rather tired." Alex yawned, then frowned. "My bed's not in here anymore."

"That's all right. You can sleep in mine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll be working on my history paper for a little while longer." Bruce led Alex to his bed and got the boy situated. "I'll be very quiet so you two can get some sleep."

Alex nodded, barely awake. "You're a good friend, Bruce. The best."

When the boy drifted to sleep, Bruce went back to Alex's room. While Alex didn't seem the type to take drugs to escape, substance abuse would definitely explain the boy's odd behavior and his father's constantly checking up on him. Excelsior might be one of the exclusive schools in the country, but it was just as easy to score illegal substances on its campus as any other public school. He needed to know what he was dealing with if he was going to get the boy clean.

Working his way methodically around the room, Bruce opened every drawer and box, but found nothing. He plopped onto the edge of Alex's bed and gripped his head with both hands and squeezed with frustration.

Alex's phone rang and Bruce stared at it like it might jump out and attack him. He debated for a moment whether to answer it or not, then decided to chance it. He cleared his throat a couple of times before he picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he answered in what he hope sounded like a sleepy voice.

"The baby's crying," a sibilant voice whispered. "You know how you hate it when the baby cries. Make the baby stop, Lex."

Bruce's entire body shook with rage as the pieces of Alex's recent behavior suddenly fell into place. Without saying another word, he hung up the phone.

The voice hadn't sounded like Luthor, but then again, it wouldn't. No doubt Lionel had assigned some trusted flunky to do his dirty work. Lionel wouldn't call until he was sure Alex had worked himself up into an emotional state.

Bruce was awed and appalled at the same time. Lionel was taking the offensive and trying to discredit Alex before Alex could even articulate his concerns surrounding his mother's death. Clever, in a sick and twisted way. There were any number of medicines or poisons that could create confusion and the appearance of mental instability. But how would Luthor administer it?

Whatever Lionel was using would have to be introduced minutely over time and since he couldn't oversee the day-to-day dosage, Luthor had to make sure he had a foolproof way to administer the drug.

An unexpected thought chilled Bruce and he moved quickly into the bathroom. His breath caught in his throat as his suspicions where confirmed and he spotted the newly installed water filter on the faucet. Moving carefully so as not to get any water on his hands, Bruce removed the filter and carefully wrapped it in a towel. Tucking it under his arm, he pulled the door shut behind him and went back into his room. He placed the filter on his desk, then knelt on the floor beside the bed.

"Alex," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Alex, I want you to promise me never to drink tap water again. Tap is for commoners. I don't care if you have to buy the most expensive water on the planet, I want you to promise never to drink tap again. Do you understand?"

"'kay."

Bruce crumpled to the floor, his back against the bed, his forehead resting against his knees, and pondered Alex's fate. He had felt the presence of evil on the day his parents had been murdered. He understood its randomness and how everything you cared about could disappear in a blink of the eye, but this was his first encounter with true sustained evil. Even if he was able to prove there were drugs in the filter, he knew there was no way to tie them back to Luthor. When all was said and done, Luthor would play the wounded bird, squawking about someone trying to harm his remaining chick. The phone calls would be explained away as a madman terrorizing his son.

He didn't have a clue how to save Alex and not put him in a worse situation. For a moment, he seriously considered kidnapping. He had the money and the resources, but he knew he would never be able to completely avoid the media. The missing bald Luthor heir would make global news and he didn't think he could keep Alex sequestered until he was emancipated.

A cell phone ringing by his head made him jump. He turned in time to see Alex blindly fumble for the phone attached to his belt. Bruce's hand covered Alex's and kept him from answering.

"'s dad."

Bruce finessed the phone away from the barely conscious boy. "I'll tell him you're sleeping."

"Not happy."

Bruce snorted. He didn't give a flying fig if Luthor was happy or not. He flipped the cell open. "Yes?"

"Hello? Who's this?"

Bruce immediately recognized Luthor's voice. "Who were you calling?"

"My son."

"Mr. Luthor?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Mr. Luthor, your son is sleeping. Is this an emergency or may I take a message?"

Bruce could almost feel the malevolence waft through the phone. "I'd like to speak to my son."

"Do you really want me to wake him up?"

Luthor paused. "No, I suppose this can wait. Please let him know that I'll call him in the morning,...."

Bruce ignored the obvious invitation to insert his name. "Thank you." With that, he flipped the phone shut. Then thinking twice, he opened the phone and turned off the power before snapping it shut again.

He knew he hadn't won the war, but damn if it didn't feel good winning a battle.

There will be no doubt
What this all could mean.

"So it's better to keep me in the dark?" Lex asked quietly.

"No," came the instant reply. Kal paused, and Lex could hear him take and release a deep breath. "You have to understand, I've never attempted to do what I'm about to try with you. There are no guarantees, Lex. It may not even work. But if it does, if I'm able to weaken the barriers enough for you to reclaim your memories, I...I don't know how you're ever going to be able to forgive me."

"You believe your betrayal to be that deep?"

"Yes."

Lex swallowed hard. "I see."

They stood in silence for several moments. Only the rustling of the leaves by their feet let Lex know that Kal hadn't left him standing alone in the dark.

"I'll do it," Kal finally whispered.

"Why?" Lex asked, truly curious.

Kal's voice wavered with sadness and regret. "Because you deserve the truth."

"Even at the cost of what might be?"

"Yes."

Lex was shocked by the answer. "You love me that much?"

"Yes," came the rough answer.

Lex carefully weighed what was being offered. Ignorance meant safety, at least for a little while longer. However, he knew the time was fast approaching when he wouldn't be able to uphold his end of the bargain he had made with his father. Pretty soon, he would be forced to take on Wayne Industries if he wanted to be free and he didn't think his father would back that proposal. Knowledge was power, even painful knowledge. "If I'm ever going to break free from my father--"

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Kal--"

"I won't pressure you...afterward. But if you ever need me--"

Lex nodded hesitantly, knowing instinctively that Kal could see him in the darkness that surrounded them. "What do you need me to--"

"Concentrate on what your father has taken from you."

Before Lex could form another question, warm lips gently caressed his as strong arms wrapped tightly around him. Lex had been raised to take what he wanted, to never relinquish control. And yet, he couldn't help but surrender to the mouth that ravished his as Kal poured everything he had into their connection. He lost himself within the kiss for several moments before he wondered what exactly was supposed to happen.

The thought had no more been made when he gasped in shock.

So lay all your troubles down
I am with you now.

Bruce paced back and forth in front of the bed, his nerves fraying at the edges. The phone in Alex's room had been ringing since dawn, as had his. He had finally unplugged it from the wall to give them some peace, but knew his defiance was setting a chain of reactions into motion. He had already summoned Alfred, who promised to join them by noon, but he wasn't sure they had enough time to start countering the inevitable. He needed to talk with someone he trusted soon; otherwise, he was going to implement his original plan of taking the boy out of the country. "I need you to promise to stay in my room."

"I will."

"I mean it." Bruce sat on the edge of the mattress and locked his gaze with Alex's. The boy's wan complexion bothered him and he touched Alex's forehead to make sure he wasn't overly chilled. Bruce knew it would take a couple of days for the drugs to work their way completely out of Alex's system, but hoped it would only be a matter of a few hours before he could pass a casual inspection. Once Alfred arrived, they'd draw a blood sample and have it analyzed by his personal physician. "You don't leave this room under any circumstance. I don't care if the building's on fire. You stay put until I come get you. You don't answer the phone. You don't open the door for anyone, and I mean anyone. I have a key, I'll let myself in."

"You're just going across campus, Bruce. Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic?"

Bruce grabbed the boy's shoulders and shook him once. "Someone's poisoning you, Alex. They've been going to a lot of trouble to push you over the edge. I don't really think there's any such thing as being too cautious, do you?"

"No," the boy whispered. "Of course not."

Bruce immediately regretted his outburst and wrapped his arms around the boy's slender shoulders and pulled him close. "Please, Alex," he whispered beside the boy's ear. "Humor me. Finding you...last night...I..."

Alex's hands moved tentatively around Bruce's torso and hugged him tight. "I promise, Bruce. I promise to follow your guidelines to the letter."

Bruce held the boy a moment longer before he reluctantly let go. "If Professor Griffin wasn't such a dick, I'd just hand the papers in late. Hell, I'm tempted to take you with me, but I don't want some nosy busybody calling your father and inquiring about your health. I'll be right back. I'll tell the administration that you're feeling queasy and that I'm keeping an eye on you."

Big blue eyes stared trustingly at him. "Thank you for everything, for believing me."

Nodding, Bruce was taken aback by the lump growing in his throat. "I'll be right back," he managed to whisper.

Bruce had always made it a practice to move at a stately pace while at Excelsior. When one came from money, one didn't run, one caused others to run; but he found himself running as hard and as fast as he could. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. The further he moved away from Alex, the more intense the feeling became. As soon as he dropped off their papers, he pelted back across the campus, not even bothering to speak to the administration, not able to shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Throwing open the front door to the dormitory, he flew up the stairs two at a time. The wrongness which had been teasing him slammed him physically when he opened the fire door to their floor and found the door to his room standing wide open.

"Alex! Alex, answer me!" He skidded to a stop in the center of his empty room.

Racing to his desk, he discovered that not only was the boy gone, but the water filter was missing as well.

A cry of denial rattled up within him and exploded out of his chest. "NOOOOOOOOOO!"

It's too late
Too much to forget about

///"I heard the baby crying, father."

"You know how you hate it when the baby cries, Lex."

"Someone's poisoning you, Alex. They're going to a lot of trouble to push you over the edge."

"BRUCE!!!!"

"I could have sworn I hit you."

"Our friendship is going to be the stuff of legends."

"We're friends, right?"

"I want you to tell me what really happened that day my car went off the bridge."

"Sometimes, Clark, we're all held hostage by the will of our fathers."

"I was right about you all along."

"Liar."

"Please don't do this."///

Lex reeled and turned, trying to escape the overwhelming onslaught. He staggered forward several steps, then dropped heavily to his knees, unable to stand under the weight of the cascading memories demanding to be recognized and re-owned. His lungs burned, but no matter how much he gasped he couldn't take in any air. He fell forward, one hand clutching at his throat while he somehow managed to get the other braced against the ground.

A gentle, but firm hand rubbed his back in calming patterns.

"Breathe, Lex. You can do it. Come on. That's right. Relax." The soothing mantra allowed him to focus on something other than his own internal battle.

An eternity later, he felt cool air finally slip into his lungs.

His arm quivered under the strain of holding himself off the ground, but before it gave way, Kal's hand splayed over his breastbone and pulled him back until his back was flush with Kal's chest.

Kal made no attempt to pull him to his feet, so they remained kneeling. Lex's ears filled with the sounds of his own harsh panting.

"You remember," Kal stated rather than asked.

He nodded.

"Do you...do you remember...me?"

Lex closed his eyes and pictured the guileless green eyes that had haunted his dreams for years; eyes that had belonged to his best friend, a teenager, the son of a farmer. They had lived in completely different worlds and yet had somehow managed to forge an unshakeable bond.

"Cl-ark."

The answer was more resignation than admittance. "Yes."

Lex's memories of the teenager didn't mesh with the images he had seen on the news reports. "Dif-ferent," he managed to choke out.

"The A.I. came up with a glamour a couple of years ago to protect my identity."

So many questions. Lex didn't know where to begin. A.I.? Did Clark really have access to artificial intelligence? How had Clark become Kal? Why was Clark so sure--

Images exploded in his head. A farm house. Gun shots. A car racing toward him. There was no way to escape, but then again he didn't want to flee. He simply shot again and again and again. He wanted the man behind the wheel dead more than he wanted anything else. He remembered being tackled, of looking up in horror as the car slammed into Clark. His friend, his betrayer was dead. No. Clark unwrapped the car from his legs in disgust, his eyes widening when he saw Lex watching him. Clark was special. He had always been unique. The truth. At last the truth. But the van had come and taken him away, taken him to the asylum. He begged Clark to save him, but the boy had refused. They had stripped him of his memories using electricity. Pain like he had never known slammed through him over and over again.

Gasping, he threw himself forward, out of the warm embrace. He spun on his knees and faced the man behind him. Even though light was just beginning to stain the sky above the trees, he was unable to get a clear view of Clark's face.

"You ran," he said, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone.

"Yes."

Lex grasped a handful of leaves. "Do you know what they did to me?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't crazy."

"No, Lex. You weren't crazy," Kal's voice ached with sadness.

Lex pushed himself to his feet, surprised at having any strength left in his body. "I...I...need some time to think."

"Of course."

"I..." But no more words came. Wordless, Lex fled back to the tower.

With his right arm lying over his forehead and his left fist clenched in the duvet beneath him, Lex studied the ceiling of his bedroom as if his very life depended on his memorizing the paint patterns, wishing he could somehow turn off his brain and re-block his memories.

He shook his head in disgust. The cat was no longer in the bag. How could he ignore the fact that his father had probably killed Julian, and had, in all likelihood, hastened his mother's demise? How could he delude himself into believing that his father hadn't covered up the fact that he had a brother? Even if he could deny all the demons crawling out of the dark places in his brain, he couldn't refute the fact that his father had pushed him to the brink of sanity, then held out his hand and offered a lifeline back to reality, a lifeline that Lex had grabbed and held onto with all his might.

Lex had always believed he was in charge of his destiny, but now he realized he was nothing more than a puppet, eager for whatever bits of affection his master might deign to grant him. His weakness sickened him.

He had bought into all of his father's lies about his mental instability and had sought refuge with the devil himself; had, in fact, become a willing minion in Lucifer's quest for domination. How many lives had he ruined because he had never considered his father as anything more than incredibly domineering?

Broken CEOs had often shouted that he was nothing more than a soulless sycophant, and now he wondered if there was some truth to their curses. He had always believed that despite his upbringing he was different from his father, that his soul wasn't doomed to eternal damnation. But as he reflected back over the sins he had committed on Lionel's behalf, he doubted there was even anything left within him to save.

The phone on the nightstand rang, startling him, and he knew who it was without even looking at the display.

He swung his legs over the edge the mattress and rubbed both hands over his face before he hit the speakerphone.

"Yes, father."

"You sound remarkably coherent, Lex. I had hoped you were past your wild ways, but I hear you staggered in quite early this morning."

Lex knew he had to tread very carefully. "I didn't stagger, father."

"Then how do you explain--"

"I couldn't sleep," Lex said, interrupting him. "So I decided to take a walk. I was jumped. I managed to escape unscathed, but apparently returned home a little more shaken than I'd realized if the staff felt it necessary to interrupt your meetings to inform you of my condition."

"Did you report the incident to the police?"

"No. I didn't see my attacker, although I did manage to land a roundhouse to his jaw."

"That's my boy. Only a fool would be stupid enough to take on a Luthor."

"How did your meeting with Cheng go?" Lex asked, gently guiding his father away from his inquisition.

"Splendid. I think we'll have the deal wrapped up by the end of the week."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Lionel paused. "No. I have everything well in hand. But maybe it would be best if you didn't leave the tower for a while."

"After this morning's incident, I fully concur."

"I just want you safe, Lex."

"Thank you, father."

Pressing the disconnect button, Lex closed his eyes and collapsed bonelessly onto the mattress. Breaking free wasn't going to be easy. He knew in the deepest depths of his soul that Lionel would never willingly let him go. The only way to escape would be to destroy his father. But how did one stage a coup in hell? Lex had tried on numerous occasions to break free of his father's influence and had failed each and every time. But even as the magnitude of what he faced started to overwhelm him, a seed of hope sprouted in his mind. He smiled at the ceiling, but the expression was quickly replaced with something more somber. He knew he was about to initiate an incredibly dangerous game; however, it was one he intended to win or die trying.

Bruce looked up from his report and frowned when he noticed his assistant standing in front of his desk. "Yes, Mathers."

The young man set his shoulders back, but couldn't quite meet Bruce's gaze. "We lost the bid for Technon Industries."

Bruce blew out an explosive puff of air, then closed his eyes briefly to rein in his temper. "LuthorCorp?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's the third bid this month we've lost to them."

"Yes, sir. I know."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that Luthor was trying to bait me."

Mathers nodded and sank into one of the chairs on the other side of Bruce's desk. "If you don't mind my saying so, sir, the same thought occurred to me as well."

Bruce leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. "But for what purpose? These companies are tiny in the grand scheme of either corporation."

Mathers opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

"Speak up, Mathers. You know I value your opinion."

"What if--" Mathers hesitated, then tried again. "What if Luthor isn't trying to bait you, but simply testing your resolve?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Again, I'd have to ask to what purpose?"

"I wish I knew, sir." Mathers started to rise, then plopped back into his seat and pierced Bruce with a slightly frantic look. "When was the last time we ran a system wide audit of our smaller companies?"

"We do an internal audit every quarter and an external once a year." Bruce frowned again, trying to figure out what his assistant was implying.

"Yes, sir, I know. I mean, a deep audit. A spring cleaning sort of audit?"

"What are you trying not to say, Mathers?"

"A lot of LuthorCorp's expansion in the last four years has come from taking over smaller companies whose records weren't quite up to snuff."

Bruce straightened in his chair. "He wouldn't dare."

Mathers searched through his notebook, then leaned forward and handed Bruce a small report. "Latest projections show that LuthorCorp is more than able to go toe-to-toe with Wayne Industries in a prolonged corporate battle."

"A hostile takeover?"

"It's a possibility, sir. In fact..."

"Yes?"

"I...I just find it interesting that the Luthor scion, the one responsible for so many of LuthorCorp's acquisitions, is in Gotham this week."

"You don't say." Bruce leaned back in his chair again.

"Yes, sir, I do. He's staying at the Hilton on Central."

An ugly smile blossomed over Bruce's face. "I think it may be time to renew old acquaintances."

"The tour was most informative, Ms. Kagan. I really appreciate your taking time out of your busy schedule to give me a personal tour."

Lex flashed the plant manager his most charming smile, although it did little to alleviate the tension around her eyes.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Luthor. If you have any further questions about the RX3000, please don't hesitate to contact me. We're quite proud of our production records and don't mind bragging a bit."

Lex responded with an appropriate chuckle.

"Mr. Wayne." Ms. Kagan said brightly. Her shoulders sagged ever so slightly in relief. "We just finished Mr. Luthor's tour of the plant."

Lex turned slowly and studied the impressive figure blocking the doorway. Bruce Wayne stood well over six feet tall. Despite his being a billionaire several times over, there was no doubt the man took his workouts very seriously. Wayne's eyes were so dark as to be almost black and Lex felt as if the eyes were scrutinizing his soul.

Lex affably reached his hand forward. "Lex Luthor."

Wayne shook the hand but didn't smile. "I'm not interested in selling."

Lex carefully schooled his features to prevent his amusement from spilling over his face. "Good to know. However, today's visit was just a fact finding mission."

"Don't hand me that bull, Luthor." While Wayne finally smiled at him, as if someone had nudged him to remind him to be pleasant, there was nothing friendly about the expression. "Everyone knows that the only time you leave the tower is when you're on the hunt."

Despite his reasons for wanting to draw Wayne out of his own seclusion, Lex flashed the older man a predatory smile, a smile that had, in the past, made lesser men quake in fear. "I had no idea that my movements were so closely watched by those in the business community."

"You'll find everything in order here." Wayne had apparently had enough of amiable chitchat.

Lex lifted one eyebrow. "Sounds like a challenge."

"You can take it any way you wish."

"And if I wish to take it as a challenge?"

Wayne flashed Lex his own predatory smile. "Then bring it on."

Lex nodded once and held out his hand again. Wayne shook it, although he appeared to be slightly confused by the gesture.

"May the best man win, then," Lex said softly. He then turned to face the plant manager again. "Thank you again for your time, Ms. Kagen."

Nodding to his hosts, Lex took his leave, taking care to keep his pace measured. He moved with purpose to the parking lot, waiting until he got into the car to release his disappointed sigh. Wayne had given him no hint of recognition, no sign that he remembered sharing a room with Lex in boarding school.

Lex closed his eyes briefly, even as he started his Lamborghini. Apparently, he had been nothing more than a footnote to the other man's education, a brief and not very memorable roommate.

No matter.

War with Wayne Industries was going to happen one way or the other. He would have liked to have had the opportunity to strategize with Bruce beforehand, but playing chess with their companies worked just as well. His father was forever telling him that he needed to test his mettle to the limits.

"Well, dad, it looks like the game's afoot."

Lex walked casually around the deserted Wayne warehouse, writing down several measurements into his palm pilot. For the life of him, he couldn't begin to imagine why the property wasn't being used. Structurally, it appeared sound. The district around it was buzzing with activity. So why allow this one building to remain dark with inactivity?

He had checked with OSHA and a host of other agencies, but there was no environmental reason why the site was closed. Records indicated that it had been an asset of one of the smaller companies that Wayne Industries had absorbed, but still, it wasn't like Wayne to let perfectly good property sit idle. Especially for two years.

A pebble skittered off the pavement in the distance, but Lex ignored it as he accessed LuthorCorp's computer. The taxes had been paid on the property and were being paid from Wayne Industries main account. So they knew the property existed.

Curiousier and curiousier.

Another noise penetrated his concentration. This time he looked up and frowned.

"Hello?"

No response.

Deciding not to take any chances, he started toward his car. No point in inviting trouble.

He had only taken a dozen steps when he heard another noise behind him. Turning, he was barely able to stifle his shocked hiss when he found a large shadow filling the alley behind him.

"I don't want any trouble," he said in his calmest voice.

"Then you probably shouldn't have come to Gotham." While the message was menacing, the delivery wasn't. It sounded more resigned. "The warehouse district at midnight is not the safest neighborhood for a displaced billionaire."

Lex frowned slightly. There was something about the voice that tickled his brain. It sounded familiar.

"You know who I am then?"

"I would venture to guess that even the homeless in Gotham would recognize someone as famous as yourself."

Lex's eyes widened as he finally placed the voice.

"Or infamous," he said, not even attempting to keep the humor from his tone.

The shadow, however, was not amused. "You're not wanted in Gotham, Luthor. Go back to Metropolis."

Lex took a step closer to the figure. "Or what?"

The shadow appeared to puff up in agitation.

Lex dared another step closer. "I thought you vowed to keep the streets of Gotham safe. Or are you selective about whom you chose to protect?"

The voice cut like glass. "Since when does demon spawn need protection?"

"Since I stopped drinking tap water."

Before he could take another breath, Lex's world went black.

Lex groaned as light penetrated through his cocoon of warmth. He rubbed his closed eyelids and pinched the bridge of his nose before he even attempted to blink his eyes open.

"Jesus, Bruce," he groaned. "Whatever happened to 'I think we should talk'?"

"You startled me," the solemn voice said from the dark corner of the room.

"Yeah, well you scared the shit out of me."

"I find that hard to believe."

Lex struggled into an upright position, only to realize he was back in his hotel room. "What? No guided tour of the cave?"

"You always did have a mouth on you," was the unamused response.

Lex closed his eyes in relief. "So you do remember me?"

"Yes." The disembodied voice paused. "Although I must admit to being surprised that the reciprocal is true."

"No more than I am," Lex admitted softly.

"What changed?"

Lex strained to see his companion, but couldn't see past the lamplight shining in his eyes. "Let's just say that I've had an epiphany of sorts."

"Does Lionel know?"

"No. I don't believe so."

The room was silent for several moments and Lex found himself trying to remember which the wall held the door.

"Alfred searched for you for months."

"I was in Belle Reve."

"I know." They fell silent again. "By the time I had any sort of influence or power--"

"It was too late."

"When you were eighteen..."

Lex nodded, knowing instantly what incident Bruce was referencing. "Zero Consequences."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't remember."

"And I was high, but that doesn't excuse my behavior."

"Even if Lionel programmed the behavior?"

"Do you really think--"

"Yes."

Lex's jaw involuntarily clenched.

"Why are you here in Gotham, Luthor?"

Pressing his lips together, Lex tried to get his emotions under control, but felt his chin tremble. He wiped his hand over his face again and tried again. "I'm tired of being a puppet, with everyone else pulling my strings."

"Understandable. But you've come seeking me out specifically, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I need help cutting my strings."

"You're not telling me the entire truth."

Lex took a deep breath and released it. "If I can't escape, I need someone to put an end to my misery."

"Someone, meaning me?"

"Yes."

The voice sounded menacing. "And just what makes you think I'd do such a thing?"

"Because you once loved me," Lex whispered.

The lamp was knocked to the floor, plunging the room into darkness. "You're delusional, Luthor."

"Am I?" Lex asked softly. Lex knew retribution would come hard and fast on the heels of his challenge and he couldn't say he was surprised to find himself yanked off the bed and slammed into nearest wall. "I'd rather die than be my father's pawn again," he whispered between gritted teeth. He remained docile, making no attempt to remove himself from Bruce's grip.

He couldn't make out his companion's features in the dark, but he could feel Bruce's hot panting breaths on his neck.

"Deny them, Bruce. Deny you had feelings for me."

"Shut up, Luthor."

He was slammed again into the wall behind him and for the first time Lex realized his feet weren't touching the floor.

"Say the words and I'll leave you in peace." Lex knew he was baiting a dangerous man, but also believed he had no other choice. He needed someone strong, someone who wouldn't run at a critical moment. Someone who walked the edge of sanity like his father did. "Say them, damn you."

Bruce roared in anger and slammed him yet again into the wall, forcing the breath out of Lex's lungs. Before he could re-inflate them, Bruce's mouth was sealed over his. Lex surrendered to the possession, demanding more, his fingers gripping Bruce's upper arms to keep him from pulling away. He refused to make any attempt to escape, even when he started to see bright spots form before his eyes.

But before air became an issue, Bruce pulled his lips away, even while the rest of his body pressed Lex into the wall. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, both of them trying to gain their equilibrium.

"What makes you think I can save you now? I couldn't save you then."

"You were little more than a child then, Bruce. Besides, I can't imagine that you'd be willing to lose to Lionel a second time."

Bruce leaned his forehead against Lex's. "You better have a fucking plan."

"Trust me," Lex whispered. "I do."

"How was Gotham, son?"

Lex didn't flinch as the unexpected voice greeted him; he just continued to remove his gloves. "Productive. When did you get back from Tokyo?"

"Last night."

"Did they sign?"

"Yes, and I only paid them eighty-seven percent of what I was expecting to pay."

Lex turned and found his father lounging in his favorite chair, sipping on cognac.

"When will we take over?"

"Next month."

"You'll send Beckam to oversee the refit?"

"Of course."

Nodding thoughtfully, Lex walked to the bar and poured himself a drink.

Lionel gave his son a suspicious squint. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

Lex shook his head, then sat in the chair across from his father. "I was going to get my proposal drafted before I brought this to your attention, but I could use your input."

"Certainly."

"The RX3000 cardboard production machine is everything we want. They've streamlined production so much that they're actually doubling Weyerhauser's production. If we installed a similar machine, we could cut our crating costs to a third of what we're currently paying."

"Why the frown?"

"If we order a similar machine, it'll take six months to retrofit one of our plants."

Lionel frowned as well. "That's longer than I'd like."

"I know. Me, too."

Lionel leaned back in his chair and studied his son for a moment. "You're plotting. I recognize the signs."

Lex chuckled, then sobered quickly. "I am, but it's potentially dangerous."

"How so?"

Lex leaned back in his chair a bit. "One of the reasons I was in Gotham so long is that I was looking for a way to buy the plant. If we took over, we could be operational within a week."

"Why am I sensing a 'but' here?"

"Because there a huge one."

"Don't keep me in suspense, son," Lionel said, testily.

"The plant belongs to Wayne Industries, as does its warehouse."

Lionel put his drink on the edge of his chair and steepled his fingers together, his face deep in concentration. "Wayne Industries?"

"Hence, my dilemma. Taking over the plant as opposed to waiting to build our own will literally save us millions, considering all the sub-companies we have. But it also means pricking Wayne. However, the paperwork on the plant is a mess and if we don't step in someone else might. The question is: do we want to incur Wayne's wrath?"

"I'm not afraid of Bruce Wayne."

"Yes, but should we attempt to make him a gentleman's offer first, thus giving him an opportunity to clean up his own mess? Or show him the sins of shoddy paperwork?"

Lionel smiled wickedly at his son.

///And in business news today, industrial analysts were stunned by the bold takeover of Wayne Industries fledgling cardboard production plant, Bored Now, by LuthorCorp. These two super powers have long lived in wary dtente, neither company seeming willing to step on the other's toes, but that peaceful coexistence seems to have come to an end. Economists' interests were peaked last month when Luthor's son, Alexander 'Lex' Luthor, toured the plant, but no one could have expected such a decisive and stunning blow.

Bruce Wayne, chairman and CEO of Wayne Industries, had this to say:

"I would expect this sort of business practice from a street thug, not someone of Luthor's stature. If it's war Luthor wants, war is what he'll get."

To which Luthor responded:

"If one is going to keep the coop doors open, one shouldn't be surprised if a fox slips in and takes inventory. I think Wayne is being overly dramatic with his talk of war. Although history shows us that war often stimulates economic growth, I think Wayne could better use his time to make sure that none of his other companies will be caught with their proverbial pants down around their ankles."

Despite numerous requests for an interview, Lex Luthor, no doubt the mastermind behind the takeover, could not be reached for comment.

More on this story as it becomes available.///

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes."

Lex sagged in relief against the oak at his back. "Where?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. I suppose not." Lex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Will it be enough?"

"Yes."

"Sufficient to take him down?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, my friend. Thank you."

A shadow detached itself from the general darkness of the copse and moved closer to him. "You realize that once I release the information it'll be dangerous for you to remain by his side? He's bound to suspect you had a hand--"

"He can suspect all he wants."

"Alex, I'm not engaging in this battle only to lose you in the end."

Even though he couldn't make out Bruce's features, Lex looked up and smiled. "Do you realize that's the first time you've called me anything besides Luthor since this whole thing began?"

Gentle fingers caressed his cheek. "You suck at misdirection."

"Only with you." Turning his head slightly, Lex brushed his lips against Bruce's palms.

Instead of jumping back like he semi-expected, Bruce moved closer, his body pushing Lex's against the trunk of the tree. "While several of my people have infiltrated Lionel's infrastructure, I can't protect you from Gotham."

"I can't leave yet without tipping him off to our plans."

"That's putting you between a rock and a hard place."

Lex arched his hips off the tree and pressed them against Bruce's frame. "Do you hear me complaining?"

"Alex." Bruce gasped quietly, then rested his forehead on Lex's shoulder. "We're discussing your life, here. This isn't a game."

"Rest assured, I know exactly what the stakes are."

Without warning, Bruce stiffened against him.

"Wha--" But before he could utter anything more, he found Bruce's hand over his mouth.

It wasn't until he felt a cool breeze ruffle his shirt that he realized Bruce had moved. While he couldn't see a thing, he was aware of a battle taking place just a few feet in front of him as the darkness was punctuated by quiet grunts and the rustling of leaves.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Clark?" Lex called out as soon as he recognized the voice. "Clark, is that you?"

Bruce's voice drifted to him on the breeze. His voice sounding like he was lifting something incredibly heavy. "You know this stalker?"

"Yes." The copse fell still again. "Clark, what are you doing here?" Lex demanded, after nearly a full minute of silence.

"I was looking for you."

"Why?"

"How can you ask me that?"

Lex sighed, feeling the weight of night settle onto his shoulders.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Bruce demanded, angrily.

"Bruce Wayne. Clark Kent. Clark Kent. Bruce Wayne."

"The reporter?"

"The billionaire?"

"Fuck," Bruce swore. "This just got a whole lot messier, didn't it?"

"Maybe not," Lex said quietly. Steeling his nerve, he added, "Clark, go home. You're not needed here or wanted."

"Tough."

"This doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't it?" came the petulant response.

"Look--"

"All right," Clark's voice cut the darkness. "You don't want to talk to me as a friend? Fine. Have it your way. Maybe you'd rather talk to me as a reporter. After all, I'm sure the citizens of Metropolis and Gotham would like to know why the Luthor heir is having a secret meeting with the man who's trying to destroy his father's empire. People have the right to the truth."

"I think we need to talk," Bruce said in resignation.

"He's bluffing," Lex answered, hotly.

"Are you willing to put that belief to the test?" Clark taunted.

"Whatever we're going to do, we need to find a quieter place to do it," Bruce said in a surprisingly reasonable voice.

"You're right," Clark agreed. "I know someplace safe. Follow me."

Before Lex could object, he felt two different pairs of hands on his arms, pulling him along. Somehow it seemed an appropriate analogy to his life.

It had been a long time since Lex had felt truly petulant. But with the two silent hulking figures guiding him down the semi-dark hallway, Lex couldn't think of a better word to express his mood.

Clark unlocked the door to his apartment and waved his hand to encourage them to enter. Lex sighed, not wanting to deal with the upcoming confrontation, but Bruce's hand between his shoulder blades let him know that this was one conflict he wasn't going to be able to avoid. He moved woodenly into the apartment, surprised by the homey feel of the main room - Martha's touch, no doubt.

The door shut quietly behind him, but no one seemed particularly inclined to start the conversation.

"You had something you wanted to say?" Lex made no attempt to turn to face Clark.

He could hear Clark sigh heavily, but before the younger man could say anything, Lex moved further into the room and sat in a stuffed chair that had definitely seen better days. He steepled his fingers before him, deliberately imitating his father, and affected his most bored attitude.

Whatever pep talk Clark had given himself while they made their way to the apartment died on his lips. "Jesus, Lex. Does everything always have to be so hard?"

"Easy is for heroes, Clark. The rest of us live in the real world."

Clark swayed slightly, as if Lex's words had hit him like a blow. "I just want to help."

"What makes you think I need help?"

Rolling his eyes, Clark let his gaze fall on Bruce. He then looked at Lex, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Do you really want me to give you my reasons?" Lex answered the challenge with his own.

"I was seventeen and scared."

"I know." Lex tried to ignore Bruce's startled look, and Lex tried really hard not to see the obvious parallels. "But it doesn't have anything to do with your being a child and everything to do with trust. That's always been my bottom line with you, Clark, and the one area where you've continually failed me. We're talking about my life here, my one chance at true freedom-"

"Freedom you wouldn't even be seeking if it weren't for me."

"I didn't realize there was a price for releasing me from my prison."

"There isn't. You know there isn't." Clark ran his hands back through his hair in frustration. "Does this really need to be so difficult?"

"Difficult?" Lex laughed incredulously. " Difficult is watching your best friend run and leave you to the wolves. Difficult is living in straightjacket for a month while doctors drug you to the gills. Difficult is feeling electricity course through your body while you're strapped helplessly to a table."

"Lex." Clark dropped gracelessly onto the couch and cupped his own head in his hands.

Lex closed his eyes against the pain he heard in his friend's voice and tried to push himself out of the chair, but a strong hand kept him in place. He looked up and found an unexpected gentle compassion in Bruce's eyes as he looked at the man on the couch.

"Do you feel better now that you've taken your pound of flesh?" Bruce asked in a quiet voice.

"This isn't about revenge, Bruce," Lex said softly. "Unlike you, he's vulnerable. There are people my father can use to destroy him. It's better that he cut his ties with me now before Lionel shows him the true meaning of pain."

Clark jumped to his feet, his eyes burning with anger. "You think I don't know about pain? Do you have any idea how many times I tried to break into Belle Reve? Or to enter your father's ivory tower? How many letters I wrote? How many people I contacted trying to find some inroad to you? Do you know what it's been like having to live every single day knowing that I couldn't save you? That I ran?" Clark leaned over the chair, invading Lex's personal space. "I know about pain, Lex. Believe me, I know all about pain. I can understand your not being able to forgive me, but I found you. I gave you back your memory. The least you can do is let me see this thing to the end."

Lex's own anger started to ignite. "The least I can do?"

"Alex." Bruce laid a hand on Lex's shoulder, even as he thrust his chin toward Clark in a silent command to take a step back.

"Let's say Kent here hadn't run. Would your life been any different?"

"Wha-what are you saying, Bruce?"

Wayne knelt beside the chair so that he was eye-to-eye with his friend. "At Excelsior, on the day you were taken, did you answer the phone or open the door to my room?"

"No," Lex answered in a horrified whisper. "I fell asleep right after you left. I heard a noise and thought you had returned. When I opened my eyes there was a man...with a cloth in his hand..."

"Did you blame me for not being there?"

"Of course not."

"But what if I had been there?"

"Look, Bruce, we don't have time for useless conjecture."

"Humor me." Bruce held Lex's gaze. "What do you think would have happened if I had made it back before you'd been taken?"

"You probably would have been hurt. Or, at the very least, threatened into submission."

Bruce nodded. "And if Kent hadn't run, what would have happened to him?"

Lex remained silent.

"Those people you mentioned that can be hurt now, they could have been hurt then, too, couldn't they? And if, by some chance, he had managed to get you away, would that have stopped your father's search? Would he have let you go free at that point?"

Never dropping his gaze from Bruce's, Lex shook his head. "No."

"So why give me the benefit of a doubt, but not him?"

Lex blinked his eyes to ease the ache, allowing himself one quick glance at Clark before returning his gaze to Bruce.

"Because you weren't in love with me," Bruce whispered.

Shaking his head in denial, Lex tried to speak, but stopped when Bruce shook his own head. "This is not the time to discuss this, I agree. But I can't protect you from Gotham, Alex, and I refuse to lose you yet again. Let Kent help for now."

"No," Lex whispered.

Bruce sighed in exasperation. "Why not?"

"He can't enter the tower."

"I don't understand."

Lex shook his head. "You're going to have to trust me on this, Bruce. As much as Clark wants to help, he can't. It's better to cut him loose now."

"Damn it, Lex--" Clark started angrily.

"Alex, you need to be reasonable. You can't--"

Lex shook his head wearily. "We're not just talking about my life here. I'm not willing to risk either of you to--"

"To what?" Bruce asked, frowning.

"This is never going to work. I'll...I'll just have to come up with another plan."

Bruce raised his voice. "You can't just--"

"You're giving up?" Clark asked, incredulously.

"Neither of you has the slightest idea what would be involved with the three of us working together." Lex leaned his head against the back of the chair and tiredly rubbed his face over his hands.

"Lex, I think we can handle--"

Sitting straight up in his chair, Lex leveled both men with a cold stare. "No, Clark, you can't."

"You're not even giving us a chance," Clark protested.

"There's too much at stake here," Lex countered.

"Why don't you enlighten us then, Alex."

"You want enlightenment. Fine. Bruce Wayne, I'd like you to meet Superman. Clark Kent, meet Batman."

While he was aware of his heart thumping violently against his ribcage, Lex's world was starkly silent. There was no sound from the cars in street below or from the neighbors behind Clark's walls. No gasps of shock. No dripping faucets. Nothing.

Horror pulsed through his veins like ice water as he stumbled toward the door, but a hand clasped firmly on his shoulder before he reached the knob.

He turned, but the words wouldn't come as he took in the pale faces before him.

It was on his lips to beg for forgiveness, but his upbringing took root. Luthors never plead for forgiveness. Ever.

"You're younger than I thought you would be," Bruce said casually.

Clark's hand dropped from Lex's shoulder as he turned to face the older man.

Lex watched as the two men assessed each other, neither speaking aloud, although communication was flying fast and furious between them.

Shaking his head minutely, Lex closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. There was a reason Luthors didn't have friends. Plain and simple, they couldn't be trusted.

He started as he felt a warm hand cup his face. Fluttering his eyes open, he was surprised to find Clark standing in front of him again; but where he expected disdain, there was only exasperated affection radiating from the younger man's eyes.

"I suppose we had that coming. Both of us know better than to push a Luthor."

Lex shook his head, wanting to explain, but still unable to find the words. Clark laid an index finger over Lex's lips.

"We need to talk."

"These late night forays of yours, Lex, are starting to make me wonder if you're returning to the rebellious ways of your youth."

As the elevator doors shut behind him, Lex noticed his father sitting in the overstuffed leather chair in the middle of the great room. Lionel's face was the picture of utter boredom, but his eyes were predatory, like a hawk eyeing a plump rabbit.

"Rebellious only if you consider walking defiant." Lex nodded once in acknowledgement, then moved toward his room at the back of the penthouse.

His father's footsteps echoed behind him and Lex understood that their conversation was only beginning. Leaving his door open, knowing there was no sense in aggravating Lionel any more than necessary, he moved into his walk-in closet and started to undress.

Lionel stopped just outside the semi-closed door. "We have a perfectly good gym on the sixty-fifth floor."

"I'm aware of that."

"But you felt the urge to expose yourself again to the criminal element?"

Lex removed his clothes at a leisurely pace, then wrapped himself in his plushest robe before he moved out of the closet. "I needed fresh air and time to think."

"About?"

Lionel looked truly curious. It was moments like this when Lex wondered if he was judging his father too harshly, if he was somehow misinterpreting Lionel's concerns for malevolent undercurrents. But he knew better. He did. All he had to do was close his eyes to feel the straightjacket sleeves wrapped around his body. Or see Lionel holding Julian's limp form.

"If economic growth is worth war."

His father frowned, his eyes squinting as he did. "Riddles are for children, Lex."

Lex smiled, although he knew it didn't reach his eyes. He wondered briefly if his father ever noticed. "My research has found inconsistencies in WBN's FCC filings."

A jackal smile spread slowly over Lionel's face. "Wayne's communication network?"

"Yes."

"Takeover level inconsistencies?"

"I believe so. Yes."

As if remembering why he started the conversation in the first place, Lionel frowned again. "So why were you wandering the streets of Metropolis without your bodyguards?"

"Father, if we attempt this," Lex hesitated for a moment. "We both know it'll mean all out war with Wayne Industries. Can we afford a prolonged slugfest with a global corporation?"

"We're not some fly-by-night operation ourselves, Alexander."

"I understand that but--"

"There're no but's about this situation. I warned Wayne that he needed to focus on keeping his own house clean."

"It might be a trap, a way to lure us into a false sense of security."

Lionel chuckled as he clapped Lex's shoulder good-naturedly. "You're never going to conquer the business world by being timid, son."

"Then you think we should risk--"

"Business is all about risk. You know that. Of course, a hard and fast surgical strike never hurts either. No point in inviting needless casualties. I'll expect your report on my desk by the end of the day."

"Yes, father."

Lionel nodded once in satisfaction, then headed for the door.

"Dad?"

"Yes, son."

"Why the jones for Wayne?"

For a moment, it looked as if Lionel wouldn't answer, then he just shrugged and grinned toothily. "He's just an annoying little prick who has delusions of grandeur. He needs to be taught once and for all that he needs to keep to his own backyard and to stay the hell out of Metropolis."

Topping today's business news, LuthorCorp made a decisive strike to gobble up Wayne Broadcast Network, but unlike so many of the companies facing the Goliath over the past four years, WBN managed to keep the giant at bay. Watching the two companies circle each other and looking for an opening promises to be spectacular and analysts are already working on all the various permutations of how such a grudge match could effect the national and global economy. More on the clash of the titans as it becomes available.

"So why do you think LuthorCorp has picked now to test Wayne Industries' business fortitude?"

Bruce Wayne shook his head, a look of sincere confusion gracing his face. "I don't know. All the financial reports I've read have shown both companies to be on a level playing field. I don't understand what Luthor hopes to gain by such an attack...unless..."

"Unless?" the reporter sat forward eagerly.

"No, it's nothing. I'm sorry I implied anything."

"Are you suggesting that this might be a personal vendetta?"

A look of annoyance flashed over Bruce's face. "I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. Other than peripheral social functions, I've never had contact with the man. Of course, I did room with his son for a year in prep school, but that was over twelve years ago and I don't see how the two could possibly be related."

"Mr. Luthor. Lois Lane from The Planet. Can you tell us how you feel about your father trying to take over one of the companies belonging to your former Excelsior roommate?"

The camera focused on both Lionel and Lex Luthor as they exited the FCC building. While Lionel forged his way toward the limousine, Lex turned, contempt clearly written over his face. "I think you need to check your facts, Ms. Lane. I never attended Excelsior. I attended Cambridge Prep in England."

"Then how do you explain your name on Excelsior's attendance roster from 1991 to 1993?"

"Excuse me?"

"Or the fact that you made the honor roll three of the four semesters you attended?"

"Honor roll?"

"Or explain how you and Bruce Wayne collaborated and won a national science fair?"

"Science...fair?"

"Mr. Luthor, are you really expecting us to believe that you don't remember any of your time in Excelsior?"

"I...I..." The camera caught the distressed look on the billionaire's face as he turned to find his father in the sea of reporters. "Dad?"

"Come along, Lex. We don't have time for such foolishness." Lionel tried to wave his son over to the limousine.

A multitude of bulbs flashed as journalists from around the world caught the confused expression on young man's face.

"There must be some mistake."

Lois Lane stepped forward, proffered an open yearbook and pointed to one of the student photographs while reporters snapped pictures over their shoulders. "Do you know of any other bald children named Luthor?"

None of the cameras failed to notice the already pale young man growing paler.

"Father?"

"Oh, for--" Lionel Luthor shoved his way back through the reporters.

"Mr. Luthor, would you care to comment on why LuthorCorp is going after a business belonging to your son's former prep school roommate?"

"Business is business, Ms. Lane. There is nothing personal in our bid for WBN."

"No? Then you're not denying the fact that your son was indeed Bruce Wayne's roommate, even though he apparently doesn't remember the fact?"

Lionel sighed, then closed his eyes briefly, before plastering a chilling smile on his face. "Due to an illness which I refuse to discuss with the vultures of the media, my son lost almost two years worth of memories. Given his fragile emotional state at the time, I thought it best not to tax him unnecessarily by trying to force him to adhere to memories he wouldn't understand. So I gave him a fresh start in England. Now if you'll excuse us, we have important meetings to attend."

Lionel grasped Lex by the elbow and attempted to guide him to the waiting car, but America watched as the young man dug in his heels and shook his head in refusal.

Lois Lane took the opportunity to again stick a microphone in Lionel's face. "Sir, what sort of illness causes two years of amnesia?"

Lionel ignored her. "Lex, get in the car, son. I can explain everything, but I'd rather not do it in the public eye if it's all the same with you."

A hundred cameras swung in the junior Luthor's direction.

"I...I...need some time to think."

Lex turned and disappeared into the crowd, while photographers got award-winning pictures snapping shots of Luthor yelling after his son.

"Have you considered going into acting when this is over?"

Lex flashed Clark a humorless smile as he moved through the open door, but made no comment.

"You realize your father's security force is probably combing the city for you even as we speak?"

"Probably." Lex looked around the homey apartment. "Whose home are we invading?"

"Chloe's."

"Chloe's? Chloe Sullivan? Petite? Blonde? Dynamo? Ace reporter for the Inquisitor?"

"One and the same."

"And she's not demanding an exclusive in return?"

"No, of course not. Well, that is..."

"Yes?"

"Well, she doesn't exactly know we're here."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't?"

"No." Clark shifted guiltily.

"You don't think she's going to be a little surprised to discover that her home has been overrun?"

"No. Well, I mean she would, if she were here. But she's not. Here that is. She's in Japan right now. But I know she wouldn't mind our being here."

"You know, do you?"

"Yes. I know. I've always had her house key in case of an emergency, just as she's always had mine."

"Cozy."

Clark frowned as he shut the door behind them. "Cozy as in the apartment or the arrangement?"

Lex looked over his shoulder and huffed in amusement as he moved further into the main room. "Yes."

Clark carried his bag of groceries into the kitchen. "She'll be gone at least another week, so we don't have to worry about her showing up unexpectedly."

"Good to know." Lex moved to the comfortable-looking couch and sank gracefully into the cushions.

A few moments later, Clark emerged from the kitchen. "The food should last us for a couple of days."

"Us?"

"I'm not leaving you unprotected, Lex. Never again."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"You're right, you don't need a babysitter, but I think you could use a friend."

"Clark--"

"Please." Clark's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'd very much like to be that friend."

"I can't--"

"I'm not asking for anything...other than to be here with you."

Lex sat back against the cushion and pinched the bridge of his nose. The silence stretched with neither seeming willing to be the first to breach it. Clark remained, neither begging nor encroaching on his space, but not leaving either. Lex finally sighed. "I think you need to go back to the store for additional supplies."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? I've seen you eat, Kent, and I know for a fact that there's nowhere near enough food in that bag you carried in to feed us for a day, let alone a couple of them."

Clark smiled broadly. "Maybe tomorrow I'll make another run."

The corner of Lex's mouth turned upward ever so slightly. "I think maybe you should."

"Where is he?"

"Sleeping. Do you want me to wake him?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Did you need something?"

"No."

"He's safe, Bruce. I swear on everything I hold dear to keep him out of harm's way."

"Fail him, Kent, and you'll have to deal with me."

"If I fail him, I'll be dead."

"Trust me, you will be."

Why are you laying in bed when you could be doing something with your life?

Lex blinked once as the fuzzy letters on the ceiling came into focus.

As a teenager, Chloe Sullivan had always been something of a go-getter. However, her adult years made her look positively lazy as a teenager. Lex had seen grown men break out into a sweat when they heard that the Geraldo of Metropolis was seeking an interview with them. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised that she left motivational messages for herself. But on the ceiling?

Of course, he wasn't accomplishing anything by laying in bed.

He felt a grin blossom over his face. Was he really contemplating ceiling motivational messages from a woman whose favorite group as a teenager was Remy Zero? Could his life get any more bizarre? At least he hadn't woken up cuddled around a teddy bear or something equally feminine.

Rolling onto his back, he stretched his arms toward the ceiling, but stopped midway as something soft plopped onto his chest.

"God, no," he whispered.

With some trepidation, he lowered his eyes only to find a stuffed penguin beaming happily at him.

"Lex? Are you okay?" Clark called from the other room.

"Yes." He cleared his throat and repeated his answer in a stronger, clearer voice.

The doorknob began to turn and Lex quickly stuffed the stuffed animal under the blankets.

"I thought I heard--"

"It was nothing," Lex assured him. He watched Clark do a cursory scan of the room. Realizing he couldn't successfully hide the stuffed animal, he sighed heavily and placed the penguin back on top of the blankets.

Clark's eyes widened and he tried to project an indifferent attitude, but his snickering ruined the effect. "I'll just...uh...leave you two alone."

"Laugh it up, farmboy."

"Well, since I have your permission and everything." Clark tried to maintain his decorum, but his amusement morphed into an outright chuckle. After a few moments, he successfully got his mirth under control. "You want some breakfast?"

"Do we have any coffee?"

"Um. Folgers."

Lex's eyes widened and Clark laughed again.

"No, I just got back from Starbucks. I got you a Danish too, so when you get dressed, come on out."

"You realize that only an incredibly brave or stupid man would dare to poke a Luthor before his first coffee of the day?"

Clark started to shut the door, but flashed Lex an impish grin. "Invincible. Remember?"

Yes, thought Lex as he gently shook the penguin by the nose. That was part of the problem.

"When do you have to be at work?"

Clark looked aghast. "I'm not going in today."

"Don't be nave."

"Lex--"

"Clark, we've only just instigated round one. Everyone knows you're Lois' producer and research partner. You don't think my father is watching her like a hawk? Get real. One of the Luthor family mottos is keep your friends close and your enemies closer. If you don't show up for work today, dad's going to figure out that you're somehow connected to all of this. And if that happens, he's going to start looking for me by looking at all of your friends. The best offense here is a good defense."

"I can't protect you from work, Lex," Clark persisted, stubbornly.

"No, but you can be here in ten seconds if something goes wrong."

"I--"

"Call Bruce. You know he's going to agree with me."

"Don't think I won't."

"Go ahead. I was the one who suggested it after all."

"I don't like it."

Lex smiled at his friend. "You don't have to like it. But I think we both know it's for the best. At least for now."

The obstinate look remained on Clark's face for several moments before his muscles started to relax. Lex took the softening of Clark's features as a victory.

"I'm actually looking forward to a day of doing nothing but watching television.

"You swear not to open the door?"

"Yes, mother. I swear."

Clark shot him an unamused look. "And you won't answer the phone, even if you recognize the phone number?"

"I promise that all I'm going to do today is channel surf and sleep. I'll even resist the urge to access the internet from Ms. Sullivan's computer."

"All you have to do is yell. I can be here in the wink of an eye."

Lex nodded his understanding.

"All right."

Lex looked around the apartment and a momentary frown marred his face. "She does have cable, doesn't she?"

"There hasn't been a soap opera aired to date that can hold a candle to the drama currently playing out in Metropolis' highest social and economic circle."

Lois Lane smirked at the camera.

"Two weeks ago, in an unprecedented move, considering the players involved, LuthorCorp tried, and failed, one of its famous hit-and-run takeover tactics on Wayne Broadcasting Network. Two days ago, yours truly discovered that there might be more to this story than initially met the eye, when Bruce Wayne confided in me that he and the Luthor heir had apparently been roommates at Excelsior, an elite boarding school known for its academic achievements. Yesterday, the world learned that Alexander 'Lex' Luthor was unaware of this fact."

The screen dissolved to a clip from the previous day.

*"Dad*?"

"Come along, Lex. We don't have time for such foolishness."

"Lionel Luthor then gave me one of the worst spur of the moment snow jobs it has ever been my privilege to receive." Lois shook her head in mock dismay.

"Due to an illness which I refuse to discuss with the vultures of the media, my son lost almost two years worth of memories. Given his fragile emotional state at the time, I thought it best not to tax him unnecessarily by trying to force him to adhere to memories he wouldn't understand. So I gave him a fresh start in England. Now if you'll excuse us, we have important meetings to attend."

"No one was more stunned by this revelation than Lex Luthor himself, who has since gone into seclusion, no doubt in an attempt to reconstruct his past."

Lois gave the camera a grave look. "Just when I thought this story couldn't possibly get any more bizarre, I was proven wrong. Earlier today, a tape was delivered to our studios, a tape which is now in the hands of the police. Morgan Edge, Metropolis' undisputed biggest crime boss, confessed to almost thirty years worth of crimes. But his life of ruin started off with murder. What does this have to do with LuthorCorp's aborted takeover of WBN? Listen and be the judge."

The screen dissolved into a clip of Morgan Edge, pre-reconstruction surgery, looked unblinking at the camera. "Lionel, my oldest, dearest friend. You kept me in the dirt while you soared into the clouds. For years I've watched you fly above me, but my final act on this earth is to bring you back down where you belong. You shouldn't have reneged on your deal to give me half of the insurance money. Look around, my friend, as everything crumbles to dust and know that this could have been prevented. We could have ruled Metropolis together. Blood was the foundation on which your kingdom was built, blood is what will bring it down."

The screen focused back on Lois. "No one has seen or heard from Morgan Edge in over four years. Is he dead or simply looking for revenge from the darkness? I suppose only time will tell."

Lois raised an elegant eyebrow. "Lionel Luthor was unavailable for comment."

"More on this story as it becomes available. I'm Lois Lane, and you're watching The Planet.

Blood was the foundation on which your kingdom was built, blood is what will bring it down.

Lex swallowed hard.

Prophetic.

The son taking down the father.

Blood is what will bring you down.

More farsighted than Edge no doubt intended.

Was Edge dead?

Surely, he was. Either by Lex's own hand or when the car wrapped itself around Clark.

Had his father buried the body?

Or had Clark?

And did he want to know?

The phone rang, startling him, but he ignored it, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

Hi. I'm not in at the moment, but if you want to give me the latest scoop, just leave your name and number and I'll call you back before my next deadline.

"Ms. Sullivan." Lionel's dulcet tone shocked Lex as it flowed into the answering machine. "It's finally time to pay the price for your freedom. Call me immediately or the consequences will have lasting ramifications. You can reach me at--"

Before he was even cognizant of moving, Lex grabbed the phone from its cradle. "You bastard. Have you ever met a soul you didn't tarnish?"

"Lex? Son? Is that you?"

"Leave Chloe Sullivan out of this, dad. Or is it your intention to play your fiddle while Metropolis burns around you?"

Lionel laughed, a noise that chilled Lex. "A rather apt analogy. I'm impressed with your wit considering how distraught you must be, son. Come home. Let me explain things. Now isn't the time for division, it's time to present a united front to the world."

"Good bye, dad."

"Lex, you're in too deep. You need me."

"To what? Take the fall for you?"

"Who do you think cleaned up your little mess at the farm, son?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Lex sneered. "I have no memory of what you're talking about."

Before Lionel could respond, Lex hung up the phone and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Bruce, I really fucked up this time."

"Get out of the apartment, Alex. Get out now!"

Lex slid into his shoes even as he slipped his suit jacket over his shoulders.

"I'll call Kent. Move it. Now!"

Lex snapped the phone shut and took a moment to lock the apartment door behind him. He jogged down the stairs, hoping he still had some time to escape before his father's forces arrived, but as he headed through the building's main foyer two black cars screeched to a halt outside.

Turning on his heel, he ran back the way he came, knowing instinctively that there'd be more cars at the back of the building. Moments later, his heart plunged into his stomach as shouts echoed around him.

"He's in the north stairwell."

Taking the steps two at a time, he raced upward, practically throwing himself out onto the roof.

"Lex!"

Lex looked up and saw Clark swooping down at him. He braced himself for the impact, but was surprised by how gently he was plucked into the air.

"What happened?"

Lex shook his head with disgust. "I'm an idiot. That's what happened."

"Recriminations won't help anything, Lex. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Bruce said he wanted to meet us--" But before he could say another word, Clark cried out in pain. They stalled momentarily in the air then hurtled toward the ground with alarming speed.

Clark's arms tightened around Lex, almost cutting off his breath. "What's wrong?"

"Shot," Clark gritted out.

"What? What happened to invincible?"

Clark struggled to right them, still unable to slow his speed. "Krypt-krypt-."

"Fuck," Lex whispered, just before they crashed into the pavement.

In his lifetime, Lex had survived a meteor shower, driving off a bridge at sixty miles per hour, various assassination attempts and more concussions than a veteran Hollywood stunt man, but nothing had ever hurt as much as waking up after being slam dunked into the pavement from a height he didn't even want to contemplate too deeply. With every one of his bones screaming their protest at his body's rough handling, he blinked his eyes open and discovered it was a cloudless day. Why that thought surprised him he wasn't sure, but it did.

Clark.

Lex rolled his head to the right and found Clark writhing in pain beside him, although he couldn't hear the other man's cries over the blood pounding in his own ears. Although he would have sworn he was incapable of movement, he somehow managed to roll toward Clark, then pushed Clark onto his side in order to get an unobstructed view of his back. Blood seeped through the bright costume and it took him a moment to find the small hole in the right shoulder.

"Leave me." Clark's face contorted in pain as he gasped for air. "Run."

Lex frowned and shook his head. "Can't."

"Lex--"

"Only Kents run, you bastard." Gritting his teeth, Lex pushed himself to his hands and knees.

"Are you okay, mister?"

Lex lifted his head and found a redheaded boy about twelve years old staring at them with huge eyes. He stood with a ratty neon green bicycle between his legs, apparently torn between fear and fascination.

"Pocketknife?"

"What?"

"Do you...have...a pocketknife?"

The boy nodded.

Lex held out his hand, snapping his fingers when the boy stared at him blankly. As if galvanized by the sound, the boy thrust his hand into the front pocket of his worn blue jeans and shakily pulled out the object in question. He stepped forward and quickly shoved the knife into Lex's hand before rolling backward.

"Wha-what are you going to do?" the boy asked in a small frightened voice.

Lex ignored him as he turned his full attention back on Clark.

"You're fucking everything up, Ke...al." Lex slit the fabric and pulled it away from the wound. "I have every right to be mad at you." He examined the wound and realized the bullet wasn't in as deep as he feared it would be, probably stopped by the bone.

Lex looked at the knife and sighed. He really should sterilize it, but knew that once he got the kryptonite out that germs wouldn't be a factor.

"You haven't even begun to properly grovel yet." Pushing down on the skin, Lex ignored the cries of the man under him as he used the knife to gain leverage under the bullet.

"I intend to make you suffer for years," he whispered harshly. His own breathing seemed harsh in his ears as he focused all of his attention on the dark green rock.

"You're killing him!" the boy behind him shouted.

Lex's fingers slipped and Clark cried out in pain. Ignoring both of them, Lex pushed the knife in deeper and nearly sobbed in relief when the bullet bobbed upward. He was peripherally aware of people stopping on the sidewalk, but knew he couldn't spare any attention to them.

"If you even think about dying on me, I'll spend every penny I own to resurrect you and kill you myself," Lex growled angrily.

The end of the bullet popped up just beyond the ragged skin. Carefully, Lex grasped it with his free hand and pulled it out the reminder of the way. He spent just a second to examine it before he threw it at a storm drain with all of his might.

"Is he going to be okay, mister?" The boy appeared to be growing braver. Lex looked up and saw that the boy had put his bike on the cement and was creeping closer. Using his shirt, Lex took great care in cleaning the knife, then closed it and was about to toss it to the boy when thoughts of what other people might do with a sample of Clark's DNA made him think better of returning the knife. He slipped it into his pocket, then pulled out his wallet and grabbed a hundred dollar bill.

"For the knife." He handed the boy the bill, even as he slipped his wallet back into his pocket. "There's another hundred in it for you if you can find us a cab."

The boy's eyes got big and he nodded enthusiastically as he ran back to his bike and pedaled down the street.

Lex turned back to Clark and ripped his uniform even further away from the wound, taking care not to let his shadow fall over Clark's shoulder.

Realizing that with each precious second that was lost his father's forces were no doubt moving closer, Lex rolled Clark onto his back, ignoring the younger man's hiss of pain.

"Come on. We're not in the clear yet, farm boy."

Blue eyes, which Lex still wasn't used to seeing, blinked glassily at him.

Lex pushed himself upward and took a moment to find his equilibrium. He then grabbed Clark's arms and hauled the bigger man to his feet. It took several moments for him to find his balance as they awkwardly lurched back and forth a couple of steps. Once he felt like he had some stability, he moved to Clark's side, wrapped his arm around the taller man's waist, and draped Clark's arm over his own shoulder.

Moving with a stamina he had never appreciated before, Lex deliberately took a step forward and counterbalanced Clark's weight. While Clark was still nowhere close to being coherent, he seemed to understand the need to move; his own legs shuffling in step with Lex's.

Lex allowed himself a small spark of hope, but it was quickly dashed as two black cars screeched to a halt in front of them.

Shaking his head, Lex couldn't stop himself from huffing with amusement. "Have I mentioned that I'm having a really bad fucking day?"

"We don't want to hurt him any more than necessary, Mr. Luthor, but we will if you refuse to come with us," the dark-suited, lead security agent said in a no-nonsense voice.

"May I ask which brain trust under your command shot us out of the air? My understanding was that my father wanted me alive or am I mistaken in that presumption?" Lex asked in his coldest voice.

"Trust me, sir, the individual will be dealt with appropriately."

"As will you." Lex sneered. "Since it was one of the men under your command, I expect you to take full responsibility for his actions."

"Yes, sir." The man hesitated for a moment. "After I return you to your father."

"No, Lex." Clark weakly grasped the front of Lex's jacket.

"We don't really have much of a choice, farm boy," Lex whispered.

A soft moan escaped Clark as he struggled to maintain his upright position. "I can't fail you again. Not again."

As gently as he could, Lex lowered Clark to the street. "You didn't fail me the first time, Cl-Kal." Lex knelt beside Clark, bent over and gently pressed his lips to Clark's forehead. "You were seventeen," he whispered. "Invincible or not, you were vulnerable to my father. I'd like to think that I wouldn't have allowed you to sacrifice yourself for me. So you see, my past would have turned out exactly the same."

Clark grabbed the sleeve of Lex's jacket. "I just need another moment or two, Lex. Stall them. Please."

Lex removed Clark's hand from his sleeve and held it between his own hands for a moment. "I think perhaps Bruce was right after all." He lowered one hand and gently cupped Clark's cheek. "Don't blame yourself. After all, I've had more than enough opportunities to be saved. Maybe some things are just aren't meant to be. Save someone who can make a difference."

With that he stood and faced the security force waiting for him.

As he walked to the waiting cars, Lex wondered what it was about him that made him so unsalvageable.

Other than the fact he was the son of the devil himself.

The answer to his own question made him chuckle and he got some satisfaction of watching two of the security men blanche. No doubt his father had informed them of his mental instability. The thought made him smile even harder.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Luthor, I'm really going to have to insist that you stop right where you are."

Lex released a shuddered sigh of relief as the words echoed around him on the street. Looking upward, he saw Batman standing on the ledge of the nearest apartment building. The crusader's cape billowed around him. Even in the daytime, Lex had to admit it was a fairly intimidating sight.

The security force reacted instantaneously training their weapons at Gotham's hero.

"Now, isn't that an interesting reaction from one of the city's finest security forces," another voice shouted from an alley across the street.

Everyone spun to find Lois Lane and her cameraman, Jimmy Olsen, stepping out of the shadows.

"Would you care to make a statement as to why Lionel Luthor's security force is preparing to fire on Batman? And why, by the looks of it, it appears they may have already injured our own city's answer to a superhero?"

"This doesn't concern you, Ms. Lane. Mr. Luthor simply wants to speak to his son."

"It would appear, judging by the fact that he has two defenders of justice at his side trying to prevent such an event that the Luthor heir doesn't want to speak with his father at the moment."

One of the security guards leveled his gun at Lois, which only made her laugh.

"Did I mention that we're live?"

The leader of the security guards snapped his fingers once and his subordinates holstered their weapons and got back into their cars. "This isn't over," he told Lex.

"But it is," Lois interjected. "If anything should happen to Lex, the world is going to know who's responsible. So on that front, this matter is very over. I would think that Lionel Luthor would need to focus his energies on figuring out how to stay out of jail for the murder of his parents. But hey, that's just me."

The security leader frowned, but got into his car and made a tactical retreat.

Lex shook his head in amusement, but the movement knocked his world off kilter. He stumbled forward a step, then fell to his knees, wincing as the pavement bit into his skin. A second later, Batman was by his side, supporting his weight.

"Two superheroes at my beck and call and I'm saved by a reporter. I'm never going to let you guys live this down."

The next hour, what he could remember of it, was a complete blur to Lex. So he was surprised when he blinked his eyes open and found Chloe's inspirational words on the ceiling above him.

"How are you feeling?"

Bruce.

Lex looked over at his friend, who was sitting in an overstuffed chair beside the bed, but frowned when he noticed he was still in his costume. "I'll live."

"I know."

Struggling to sit up, Lex turned and pushed his feet to the floor in order to face his friend. "What happens now?"

"Now, we let the authorities deal with your father."

"The tape--"

"Is authentic. Apparently, Edge made a dozen copies before he disappeared. Your father managed to locate most of them, so it took quite a bit of digging to find that one, but I found an associate who wanted retribution on Edge's behalf."

"Bruce, I think I may have..."

"No, you didn't." When Lex opened his mouth to protest, Bruce added, "And neither did Clark."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Amazingly, Edge survived his encounter with you two, although I don't know how l