Things like that didn't happen to kids who were good. And he, he knew he was good. His parents had always told him that he was good.

Except for the time that he and Dad had gone to Fordman's for paint, and Clark had snitched a Snickers Bar for himself. And he'd gotten his ass beat for that stunt, even though he had been only seven. He'd learned his lesson well and had never done a thing like that again.

He was a good kid. He'd done well in school, he helped with all of the chores, he was an asset to the farm. He loved his mom and his dad, and they loved him.

It hardly felt like it was just the other day that he'd seen the guy with the beard talking to his father in the barn. Clark had been curious, as he knew just about everyone in town, so he'd edged around the corner, half-listening and half just wanting to butt in.

The fellow had called himself 'Lionel Luthor' and he'd reached to pat Clark's shoulder after he'd introduced himself. Clark still remembered the pain that he'd felt, the hiss of agony that he'd given, the way the man had looked startled before he'd glanced to the brilliant green ring on his hand, smiling so secretly. Jonathan had been pissed to all hell, and Clark had gotten sent off to the house to help his mother.

But Clark had heard the offer of money from Mr. Luthor to Jonathan for something that Clark didn't know what it was. It had been an obscene amount of money, buying the whole farm amount of money. Jonathan has sounded angry at the guy. Really angry. And Clark had just kept walking.

He'd made pie with Martha that afternoon, and she'd gently teased him about his telescope spying at Lana Lang.

It was the start of his last year in middle school. It should have been his first day, only Mom hadn't packed him a brown bag lunch that morning, and Dad hadn't griped gently at him to get his butt up and do his chores. Clark hadn't even gotten the chance to sleep in, not after the two quick gunshots.

It was a blur what had happened then, but there had been pain, and there still was pain. Something stuck in his leg, still stuck there, but it didn't matter.

He was safe in the woods. He was safe, he was still alive. His mom and dad... If he hadn't been so scared, he would've started to cry. Only they were looking for him, somehow finding him -- the thing in his leg? -- and when they found him...

When they found him, Clark didn't want to be dead. He didn't want to be hurt, or scared anymore. He was good. He'd wanted to go to school, and see Pete and talk with Chloe, and get teased, and tease back, not--

Clark barely heard the whiz of air, but he did feel the painful stab of the dart into his skin, before he passed out.

"Hey. Kid. Kid. Wake up." The voice was gentle enough, nice enough, but Clark didn't care much for gentle or nice. Clark wasn't too crazy about the whole waking up thing, either. He hurt all over, in places he was pretty sure he didn't even know he had, and for a farm kid to admit a thing like that, he must be hurting pretty bad.

And Clark had never hurt like the other farm kids. Like anybody else, actually, except around that old foundry. The one his mom and dad had told him to stay away from, no matter what.

Oh, God.

Mom and Dad.

When he'd heard the noise, the noise he'd heard a couple of times when his father had taught him about hunting, or they'd had a sick animal that the vets couldn't do a thing for, it had scared him awake. And he'd seen, seen the man standing beside their bed, seen the second trigger-pulling.

He'd seen his mom starting to sit up in bed, and then he'd seen her fall back, seen the burst of red.

Even when he opened his eyes, he'd probably never stop seeing that image. Oh, God...

"Hey, kid?"

"Momma," Clark managed to get out, biting the inside of his mouth. He wasn't going to cry. He was going to open his eyes and look straight at whoever was talking to him, and he wasn't going to cry.

Even though nothing could hurt so bad as watching that guy kill Momma and Daddy.

Hands slid under his shoulder, someone bigger than him jostling him upright to sit. "Here, sit up and try to open your eyes," the quiet, gentle sort of voice instructed. "Cyrus, his leg. I'll hold him up for you."

"Doesn't feel like one of us," the other voice, who'd been 'hey, kid' and shaking him, declared as he put his hands on Clark's bare skin, on either side of the pain in his calf.

"I don't want to open my eyes," Clark told them clearly, letting tears spill over. Darn. He was too old to be crying like that, like some baby. He couldn't help it, though. "If I do, then it's all true, and I'll know where I am, and it won't be home."

"This is your home now," he was told, and a hand rubbed at his shoulder a little awkwardly. "You might as well get used to it. My name is Lex -- and the kid helping your leg is Cyrus. What's your name?"

"C-Clark." It didn't even sound like himself, his voice cracking and going deep suddenly, the way it had for a few days now. "I'm Clark. Kent. My parents..."

"Your leg's not too bad," the Cyrus person said softly. "Here. Just a minute, and it will be better."

"You don't have to explain any of it," Lex told him, still gentle and easy-sounding -- to make Clark more confident, probably. "Most of the others here... their parents either sold them, or. They died. How old are you, Clark?"

"Does this tingle too much for you?"

"Thirteen," Clark whispered, shaking his head. It didn't tingle, it just kind of ached. Ached and spread and then maybe it tingled, because he gasped, eyes shooting open. "Ah!"

Cyrus was maybe his age, maybe a little younger; he was a small boy, with his hands on Clark's leg, a faint white glow pulsing between his fingers and Clark's skin. The room they were in was cold-feeling, cold-looking. The lights were fluorescent, the walls were a metallic sheened shade of blue. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the boy who was behind him, but there was a sort of cot-bed against the wall.

Home? No. And who were the 'others'?

"Thirteen. I'm nineteen, but most of us are about your age, Clark -- Cyrus is twelve, aren't you, Cyrus?"

"Mm-hmn."

"Where is this?" Clark asked, horrified. It wasn't anything like the warmth of home, and just looking at it made him shiver. His leg felt better, but nothing else really did. Maybe they had some of that stuff from the foundry that used to make him feel sick? It was the best guess he could make. "Why are we here?" Lex was older, so maybe he would know, Clark thought, turning to look up at him.

He was completely bald, a slightly round-faced young man with a heavy bruise laying on his cheek, that splayed up and around the side of his head. "Because we're freaks," he told Clark with a sort of sad solemnity in his voice. "It gets better, with time. Dad has teachers that come down for us, and it's only the bedrooms that look like this. It..." He glanced to Cyrus, gauging both of their facial expressions as the other boy sat back on his heels, folding his arms over his chest.

"It's hell," Lex finally murmured. "Welcome to your new home."

Hell. Hell. That sounded horrible, and Clark couldn't help the way he reached out to touch the bruise on Lex's face, fingers tracing it. "But. But, I don't understand. Why... who brought us here, and why...? Do we have to call him that, or...?"

"No. He really is Lex's dad," Cyrus explained. "He's not very, ah, nice."

The way Lex grimaced, and then gently moved Clark's hand down, the way he let go of Clark since he didn't seem to need support anymore, seemed to be in agreement with Cyrus's statement. "Yeah. I've been here the longest. My father is Lionel Luthor -- we're all here because we're not quite human."

"I can heal people," Cyrus declared as he shifted on his heels, and then shifted so he could sit up near Lex and Clark and talk better. "What do you do?"

"I don't do anything," Clark lied. He'd been taught to lie, at least when people asked about those things. Clark never lied unless he had to, because he really was a good boy. Really.

"Sure you don't," Lex murmured, and rolled his eyes a little as he started to get to his feet. He had real clothes on, which struck Clark as a little funny for a place that felt so much like a hospital. So did Cyrus, and so did he, if he thought about it. Even if it wasn't the crisp blues and reds he liked best, and the plaid his dad wore.

"We all do something. You hit a certain age, and it starts to show. Tiny things at first, but it's there, and that's what he looks for. He... you wouldn't be here if you didn't do something."

"I..." Clark wasn't sure what to do. His parents had said not to tell anybody, not even Pete and Chloe, but his mom and dad were gone, and these guys already seemed to know. Maybe... maybe that made it okay? "I'm really fast," he whispered. "Like. Faster than cars. And I can't be cut or anything like that. And I'm really strong." And, and, and.

Lex reached a hand out, laid it on Clark's shoulder, rubbing through the fabric of his t-shirt. "It's all right, Clark. What happened is still fresh in your mind. But--"

"Hey, why don't you come into the common room with us, Clark?" Cyrus burst in suddenly, cutting Lex off. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.

"Why?" Clark asked carefully. "Common room?" What would that mean? Like a living room or something, maybe? Clark wasn't sure.

"Because you'll find that you won't want to spend more time than you have to in your bedroom." Lex pulled at Clark, walking him towards the sliding door off to the side. There was another room, a tiny room, with another door that was already open, and it led into a hallway from what Clark could see. Cyrus headed out first, almost running ahead of them. "That's where they experiment on you. The mirror on the wall is one-way, and there's a camera back behind it. The common room is like... a living room. There's a TV set, and some games, and books."

"Experiment?" Damn his changing voice, it squeaked right in the middle of that word. Clark had seen stuff on tv, alien autopsy stuff that his parents wouldn't have wanted him watching. He'd seen movies where people were kidnapped and somebody did... THINGS... to them. He just hadn't ever thought it would happen to him. Not if he was good.

Not if he lied when Dad said to lie.

It left him wondering how he'd been found, because he was good and no one ever saw him. The last time he'd done something had been that bully he'd pushed back a little too strongly. And that was ages ago, like the Snickers bar he'd snitched. Half a lifetime ago!

"You'll find out. I'm sure sometime today Dad'll be down to give you the 'orientation'." Lex crowded him through the little hallway and into the big hallway. Their footsteps echoed up to the ceiling and back down as Lex led him along a winding, circuitous route. He could see windows into other bedrooms like his, and when Clark glanced over his shoulder, he could see that his own room had one.

That he hadn't been able to see from his point of view inside.

"You... you'll get used to being here. You have to get used to it, since there's no leaving."

"Why isn't there? I mean, we gotta go to school. We have to. People will be looking for me!" Clark protested.

"Not if they think you're dead," Cyrus said softly. "Saw a milk carton with my picture on it once. A long time ago. They stopped giving us milk in cartons after that."

"Sometimes they think you're dead. Or a run away. If someone does track you to this place, then they say that you're crazy, and receiving the best treatment possible." Lex led them, walking between the two younger boys; he seemed used to doing that. "That's what they say about me. I'm supposedly 'hopelessly insane', and my father is a saint for putting me in such a... nice place. I found that out the one time I escaped here. There's nowhere for freaks like us to escape to."

One more turn, and up ahead Clark could see a simple wide space through an open doorway. The walls were made of metal, wire or something like it, and it looked like a cage, see-through in the way you could see murkily through the bottom of a glass. There were a couple of shapes within, but it was still too soon to guess who they were.

Or what they'd be.

Just the thought of never being able to escape made Clark whimper faintly, unable to stop the sound from escaping. God, he wanted to be strong, wanted to be good. Jonathan would tell him that now wasn't the time to panic or cry. No, Dad would say that now was the time to think, Clark, think, and find a way out.

If he could just find a way out...

"Don't think about it much," Cyrus advised. "Sometimes I think they know when you're thinking about ways to get out. I've stopped."

"Don't discourage him so soon," Lex chided Cyrus gently. The nearer to the room they were, the more Clark could see. There was a large television set, and a few mind puzzles that looked like Chloe would play with them. There was a sofa and chairs, comfy looking things.

They looked nicer than the bed had, that was for sure. There weren't two, but three people in the room -- a girl, with long dark hair and wide eyes, sitting at the end of the sofa with her feet tucked beneath her, and there was a pair of boy twins with scruffy-looking hair playing cards on top of the coffee table. They all looked Clark's age, Cyrus's age. Just kids like him.

"Guys, say hello to Clark," Lex declared firmly as he paused just inside of the doorway.

"Hello, Clark," the twins said in unison, smiling at him in a bland sort of way that was really kind of scary. A lot scary.

"Hi, Clark." The girl's voice was deeper than Clark's, and it made him shiver a little.

"Urm. Hi," he greeted nervously.

"So," one of the twins smirked, "what got you in here?"

"Cut right to the chase, Ian," Lex scowled as he steered Clark towards the other side of the sofa. Then he claimed a recliner as his own. "Clark, your new rude compatriots actually have names. That's Tina, and this is Ian." Both of them, apparently, were Ian. And Tina's voice was scary, in a too-mature kind of way. It was better when Cyrus sat between them on the sofa.

"Hi," Clark said again nervously, eyes shifting away from all of them. Lex was... almost trustworthy, because he was older, and Clark's parents had always said that if he got lost, he was supposed to go to somebody older and tell them who he was and ask for help. They should be clean and neat and he should ask in a public place.

Two out of three wasn't bad?

"You'll get used to it," Tina told him seriously. "It could be worse." Nobody said anything to that. Probably because they couldn't think of a worse.

Ian just snorted, and traded a few cards from his playing deck with... Ian.

"Hey. Why don't we watch TV for a bit." Lex was take-charge, in a suggestive way. His dad was the bearded man with the ring that had hurt his shoulder? He didn't look much like him, except for the way he moved when he got up to get the remote. Like oil wrapping around pistons or something, slick and easy and it made Clark feel very funny for a moment, dragging a violent blush to his cheeks and a rush of blood to other places that didn't seem quite right.

Cyrus patted his arm soothingly and smiled. "We've got cartoons sometimes. You know. Like Japanese stuff, and the old ones like Scooby."

"Same shit I've been watching for an eternity," Lex muttered as he paced back with the remote, turning it on. "But at least it's something. All of the 'channels' are piped in to us from... somewhere. No news, nothing based off of reality. What I'd do to watch movies or the news again."

"I want to go home," Clark whispered, tears welling up. Momma and Daddy, and all of that blood. It was always going to be on his mind.

Always.

"Don't be a baby," one of the Ians snarled. "Suck it up!"

Don't be a baby. He was a big kid, almost into high school, soon. One year off. His dad wouldn't have wanted him to cry, but maybe he would have. His dad was dead, and his mom...

There was some cartoon playing, and Lex set the remote down as he moved towards Clark, glancing over at Cyrus. "Shut up, Ian -- he's just gotten here. Try and pretend you've got a heart. Hey, Clark... Clark?"

"I want to go home," Clark whispered again, a shattered sound. "I want to go home." His hands came up and buried his face, shaking fingers hiding the tears that were going to spill whether he liked it or not. He wanted to go home, and he wanted his parents to be alive, not sprawled bloody over their marriage bed.

Not because of him, just being him.

"Shhhh..." Lex couldn't tell him it was going to get better, because it obviously wasn't. He just knelt down beside the sofa, slid his arms around Clark a little awkwardly. "Shhh. Crying won't help, you know... but if it helps you feel better..."

"What a baby," the first Ian scoffed. "Even Cyrus isn't that big a baby..."

"Shut up, you jerk," Cyrus snapped. "Just 'cause some of us had parents who loved us and yours were glad to sell you off, it's not our fault."

And Clark's parents had loved him, had loved him awfully, and Jonathan had refused to accept whatever that fuzzy haired man had offered for Clark.

It was really all his fault!

Down at the other end of the sofa, Lex heard Tina start crying, then sobbing. Both Ians called her a baby, and one got up to stomp his feet to get them to shut up. Yelled it. That made her cry louder, and Clark was crying, and Cyrus was snappy, and...

There were sounds like heavy metal doors unlocking, the quiet chatter of conversation coming from the direction that they hadn't walked there from.

"Shhhhh! Calm down, all of you -- he's coming!" But it didn't feel like Lex was yelling at Clark. He was still hugging him loosely, rocking him a little.

Clark could hear the others taper off, and maybe it was his imagination, but he'd swear that he saw the twins twisting tightly into one another, almost becoming one. Maybe they WERE becoming one. Maybe that was their secret. Still, he couldn't stop crying, and Lex was comforting. His arms were warm, and if he couldn't have his Momma, Lex would do.

"Shhh..."

"My, my. What a ruckus I thought I overheard." It was him, with his mane of curly hair, standing in a doorway Clark hadn't seen as there before, not until Lionel Luthor had stood in it. "How are all of my little charges today?"

"Fine, Mr. Luthor," some of the others managed to mutter, Tina doing something so that her face didn't seem red or swollen. Clark would have wondered how she'd done it if he hadn't been so upset, his own head burrowing into Lex's shoulder.

"Yes, I see that." He paced into the room, circling them like they were all beneath him to be near to. "Good afternoon, Lex -- why don't you stand up, hmn? How is our newest member to this little family?"

"Dad..." Lex's voice fell quiet almost right away as he pulled back from Clark, still kneeling beside him on the sofa. All it did was keep Clark from hiding against him.

"You're that man," Clark warbled. "You're that man who came and offered Dad money, and he said no." The faint wave of Cyrus's hand didn't make Clark want to stop, but it probably should have. "He said no, so you did something bad!"

It was strange how, for a moment, Lionel looked perfectly struck with remorse, and took a back step to stare down at Clark. "Child... truly, why would I do something like that? Why don't we have a discussion in my office? I think you need to learn the rules here. Lex, escort him, will you?"

Lex looked sideways for a moment, to the floor, then he started to stand up. "C'mon, Clark."

"I don't want to go anywhere!" Clark protested. "Not with him! I just want to go home!"

"There's no home left to go to," Lex coaxed softly, reaching to take Clark's hand. "Make it easy for yourself, Clark..."

"I'm getting impatient, Alexander."

That sounded bad, like the bad man would get upset with Lex if Clark didn't do what he was told to do, and Clark didn't want that. Lex had been nice to him so far. But... But he didn't want to go...

"Clark, please just cooperate?" Lex asked, pulling at his hand to get him to stand. Not forcing him, but trying to coax him up. Still coaxing, even though Lionel was tapping his toe on the polished floor, and looking more at the other three than them.

"You seem quiet, Cyrus -- perhaps you should busy yourself. I'm sure Byron could use your company..."

"Yes, sir," Cyrus murmured, ducking his head and hurrying out of the room. Tina wasn't far behind him, though Ian lingered momentarily, eyeing the man.

"I don't want to," Clark whispered to Lex, and he didn't. But he would, because the man was scaring him, and maybe Lex could go with him? And that would be okay, because Lex wouldn't let anything bad happen, maybe. Lex was older, and nice, and all of the things he was supposed to look for in a rescuer. So.

So why wasn't Lex really rescuing him yet?

"It's easier..." Lex murmured softly, looking tired and scared around the edges of his eyes. "I'm supposed to make sure all of you try to get along and behave. That's what I do. If I don't--"

"Alexander, I didn't ask you to explain your life story to the boy. I just want you to get him to stand up and walk down the hall with me. I'm counting to ten." And Lionel turned his back to them, heading for the door he'd entered through.

Counting to ten, even in Clark's experience, was A Very Bad Thing. It generally implied that getting to ten was something not desired, and panic rose up in him. "Where do we go?" he asked Lex, voice shaking, brows tightly knit. "I don't know..." What to do. Where to go. How to get out.

Anything.

"Just follow him. I'll go with you, so you don't get lost," Lex promised, and he pulled at Clark's hand again to get him walking and out of that room.

"Four... I'm very disappointed in you, Alexander, six..."

"You skipped five!" Clark protested, holding tightly to Lex's hand. Not too tight, because that would hurt, and Clark didn't want that, not ever. "You have to count even!"

"Seven," the man answered flatly as he started to walk off. Lex tugged and broke into a fast pace that brought them even with Lionel before 'nine' was finished being said. "Very good. You wouldn't have wanted me to reach ten. Nor would Alexander, would you?"

"No." Lex agreed as he slowed, to something of a casual walk. As if his father wasn't threatening him, and as if he wasn't dragging along a thirteen year old beside him who probably didn't need to be dragged.

"I just want to go home," Clark mumbled. "Why have I got to be here? I just want to go home is all."

"Your home is here now, and you should acquaint yourself with that quickly," Lionel told him. "I've taken you in because you're a menace to society and to yourself and your family. Look what happened to them -- because of you."

"But..." But. "But I was a good boy. I had good grades and I didn't do anything bad, I just, I just..." Sometimes, he broke things. When he got too excited. And there was that boy who'd bullied Pete, but that was long, long ago. He couldn't even remember it clearly, it was so long!

"You just are -- it isn't your fault that you're a freak, child. My son was a brilliant boy, on the fast track to life, and... Alexander here is as much a danger to society as you are. An unknown factor. You try to be normal, but trying and being are two separate things." They reached a long set of metal stairs, and Lionel paused to let them go up first.

It made little chills crawl up Clark's spine, like stories of those people who did things to children that nobody ought to do. Ever. He bit his lip and shivered, holding on tightly to Lex's hand. Oh, none of this was any good, and Lex obviously wasn't the savior he was wanting, but Clark was going to hold on to him tightly anyway. There wasn't anything else to grip anymore, nothing to clutch reality tighter.

He didn't have his mom or his dad anymore.

Clark could hear Lionel coming up behind them on the stairs, shoes clack clack clacking on the metal rungs. Lex's shoes just gave soft thuds, like Clark's sneakers. At least they'd left him the same sneakers -- his dad had bought them half-off at Fordman's, and he'd teased him about having big feet for a kid. He'd teased him about growing up so fast.

It didn't feel like he was growed up at all.

"Society knows that I am doing it a favor by containing people like you. You will be schooled, and occasionally you will take field trips to the outside. There are two common rooms, and which one you are in is rotated according to the activities of the day."

"Why?" Why was the question of the day, and Clark was beginning to think there would never be any answers. Why did his parents have to die, why was he here, why was this guy sticking his son here, why would they be rotated, when would he get out? "I want to go home."

"This is your home now," Lionel reemphasized. "You are home, Clark. The rooms are rotated because children, people, need sunlight, don't you?" He laid a hand on Clark's shoulder, the hand with the ring that made Clark feel sick and hurt. "The top floor, on nice warm days, is an activity room. Fenced in, of course, but there's a swimming pool and chairs and other things, and a sheltered area for the winter months. I wouldn't want any of you to become ill or unhealthy. Here, this is my office. Alexander, wait outside."

Lex didn't look pleased with that prospect, but fell back as ordered.

Clark didn't want to go inside with the Lionel man. He was scary, and he made Clark feel sick, and Clark didn't like him, but he didn't see where he had any choice. He was an adult, and Clark was a good boy. Clark had always done what the adults said, even though his parents had said some adults might be bad. Lionel was definitely bad, but he didn't see any way out of it.

Lionel pushed open the door, and ushered Clark in through the entrance with the hand on his shoulder. It was a comfortable space, but too... expensive. Like the magazines he sometimes found his mother leafing through when they went to the bookstore. Too tidy, and not lived in. The cushions didn't even have dents in them.

"Sit down, Clark," Lionel smiled, gesturing Clark to sit on the sofa while he did the same. "Why don't we start by you telling me about yourself."

"I don't think I should," Clark announced, moving slowly to sit as far away from Lionel as possible. "You're a bad person. You're the kind of person my dad always said I shouldn't talk to, and to go to the police if you got near."

Lionel tsked, and looked almost ashamed of Clark, tilting his head a little as he watched the boy sit almost on the arm of the sofa. "Clark, I am your care-taker now. Your watcher. I am going to protect you from the rest of the world, and protect the rest of the world from you. I can't do my job properly if I don't know you."

Clark still didn't think he should say anything, because the man was obviously a Very Bad Man. "Um...." If he didn't say anything, though, what might happen? He could only imagine. "I don't know. I'm just a boy. My parents adopted me. I live in Smallville." All things that the man was bound to know anyway.

"I helped your parents adopt you," the man offered. "Because you didn't belong to anyone or have papers."

"Oh." So, did that make him a bad guy or not a bad guy? If his dad had known him and he had helped them, did that change things? "I don't understand."

"Your adoption was illegal, and based on the premise that if I wanted to take you back, I could," Lionel told him, shifting to make himself more comfortable. It seemed to involve twisting to better face Clark, one long leg stretched out so that his shoe scraped the carpet in a shuuuuuuf of sound.

"Did you kill my parents?" Getting right to the point seemed like a good idea. Clark could feel his mouth trembling, so he pressed his lips tightly together to try and make them stop.

"No. I'd offered them money to get you back -- full compensation for their efforts with you -- but it wasn't my people who killed them. It was the government."

The government? But weren't they supposed to help people? Clark wasn't sure about that, and his face said as much. "Then how come I'm here?"

"Because my people were watching the farm. Your father was supposed to give a signal if he changed his mind. We saw gunfire, and went in to get you before anyone else could." He sounded so smooth, particularly when he folded his arms over his chest, looking so very seriously at Clark.

"So, really... you were saving me." Clark didn't believe that, not in the least, but his heart wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that he was safe here, and that this was the right thing, the right place for him.

"Trying to," Lionel admitted. "As time passes, you'll realize that I'm simply trying to figure out how you work, Clark, and to keep you safe from the world. It's full of people who would like nothing more than to harm you."

"But Lex is your son? And he's here?" That obviously bothered Clark because Jonathan would never, ever have put him somewhere people could experiment on him, not on purpose. That was why he was dead, Clark was sure of it.

"Alexander is a lot like you, Clark," Lionel sighed, almost sadly. He seemed not at all sad about it, though, he only sounded sad to Clark's ears. False sad, then, the way Chloe sometimes mocked something. "He's different and never would have survived in the real world."

"I was surviving just fine until you came along," Clark pointed out, more than a little sour. He'd bet Lex would get along just fine, too. Lex was nice, and helpful, even if Lex had left him alone with this man. If Jonathan had told Clark to stay out of a room, he would have.

"Oh, for the moment, until what you are became too noticeable," Lionel smiled. And he shifted again, closer to Clark. "Until you became faster and stronger. Maybe fought over a girl with another boy or man, and killed him quite by accident."

"But..." But Clark would never do that. "But I wouldn't, I've never hurt anybody, not on purpose. I don't like to fight!"

"So you say, but accidents happen," the man drawled. "Accidents that would show the world what a freak you are. And then they'd kill you."

"But..." But there really wasn't anything to say about any of it, was there? No coherent thought Clark could gather except that he wanted to go home. "I wasn't hurting anybody," was all he could think of, all he could say. "I don't. I mean, there's people all over the world who do things like me..."

"Are there?" He tilted his head a little, hard eyes suddenly heavy on Clark.

"They're in the papers all the time and stuff. Because they break records or they pick up tractors, or, or..." Even if they were the papers Clark saw in the grocery store that his mom wouldn't let him buy.

"Fantasies," Lionel purred. "When I find people like you, Clark, I bring them here. My son. Cyrus. Ian. Tina. More that you'll meet soon. They were in their rooms, and there are a few acquisitions that I'm happily expecting soon."

"I don't think that's right," Clark told him very unhappily. "People have a right to be, be normal, and love their families..." Except maybe they didn't, and Clark couldn't tell, because if Lionel would put his son in a place so scary, well.

"You'll understand it soon, Clark," Lionel smiled as he reached forwards towards Clark, patting his knee with the hand that didn't have the green ring on it. No ache, except for a skin-crawling feeling. "Do you have any hobbies or things you particularly like that might not yet be part of the commons rooms?"

Clark shivered. "I, uh. Had a telescope. At home. I like astronomy." It was a reluctant admittance, but still something that the man could have guessed if he'd been to the Kent home.

"I'll take note of that. Come along, now, stand up -- we're going to go to the lab and start the simple tests." Lionel said that so calmly, as he started to stand up. "Blood testing, that's all -- Alexander will come with us if you prefer."

"Yeah," Clark decided, standing as well. He moved away from Lionel instead of towards him. "I'd like that."

It wasn't taken note of as Lionel headed for the door, opening it. Lex was standing opposite the door, leaning against the wall, and looked almost relieved to see Clark coming out. Strangely, the bruise on his face was gone. "I find it very funny how so many of you take well to my son."

Clark decided not to say that Lex was nice and had visited him and helped him to get better. Instead, he continued to look at Lionel suspiciously and moved quickly (almost too quickly) to stand by Lex's side.

"I greeted him when he got up finally," Lex shrugged, feigning a lack of care that seemed to come to him only with some trouble.

"I see." Lionel had a feline smile for his son, and gestured for he and Clark to move. "To the examination room, boys. Go up ahead of me and get Clark ready. I need to see that the collection materials have been sterilized."

"Lex..." Clark's fingers reached out, tugging at the bald boy's hand. He was afraid. Clark had never seen a doctor, not so long as he could remember, and words like examination and sterile frightened him.

"It's okay," Lex murmured. It was a quiet promise, a little hope as the bald young man led him forwards like he wasn't a scared thirteen year old. "I'll be there. So that when he's done, when they're done, I can take you back to the common room. All right?"

"I guess." Even if it wasn't, Clark wasn't seeing any other viable options. Not really.

"You're a good kid," Lex murmured as he led him down a narrow hallway with a lot of random-seeming turns that he took. "Really good. It'll make your life a little easier here."

"Why?" Clark looked back behind him, noticing that the bad man wasn't following them. "Your dad is scary, Lex. I don't like it here."

"You get used to it," Lex sighed. "You have to. I escaped once, a few years ago, and I think it was worse out there than it is in here."

"Whycome?" It was a legitimate question, one Clark couldn't help asking. 'Out there' had been okay for him. His mom and dad were wonderful and his friends liked him, even if he didn't have very many of them.

Maybe he was lucky. Was that possible, that other people didn't have all of the things he'd been so accustomed to having? "Because I've been here since I was your age. I'm nineteen now. I should have gone through high school, dated people, studied things I didn't want to learn... I should be in college now. I should be out there... But when I got out there, I didn't know what to do. There was nowhere to go. I had no money that I didn't steal, or... do a little work for." He looked sideways at Clark, and tried to smile as he paused to open a glass and wire door.

"I had two miserable, frightening weeks before he found me again. In the end, it wasn't worth everything I went through."

"You wouldn't do it again?" Clark asked him, scared as the door opened. The room beyond was even more frightening than his new 'room' had been, the whole thing looking like something out of that scary alien autopsy show. "I would. I would. I just wish I could go back home, and that my..." His eyes welled up despite himself. "...mom and dad were still alive."

Lex squeezed Clark's fingers, then let go of his hand as he closed the door behind them. "You have to get undressed. Your parents loved you, right?"

"Yeah." Yeah, and he didn't want to take his clothes off. "I don't want to," he told Lex obliquely, blushing. Things had been changing about him recently, lots of things, and Clark was more than a little embarrassed.

"You can do it now, or..." Lex trailed off, as he headed towards the examination table. There were foot things at the end. And straps. "Or he'll do it for you, Clark."

"He said in there that he was trying to help us. I don't think he really is," Clark said slowly.

"Help himself," Lex scoffed as he loosened the straps so someone could slide into them. "He doesn't care about us. We're... expensive pets to him, that he doesn't have an emotional attachment to."

Clark didn't want to think about who was going to be sliding in there. "Even you."

"Is that a question, or an observation?" Lex fumbled with what had to be wrist straps. "Hurry up a little, please? And then hop up here. It shouldn't take half an hour, tops."

"Maybe both," Clark said, reluctantly beginning to pull off his t-shirt. "I mean, my dad would never have wanted this for me. Ever." And Clark didn't want to take off his jeans, either. "Can I leave my, um..." Shorts on, he wondered, but then he realized that he didn't have any, and that made him blush. They weren't his clothes, so obviously somebody had already seen him naked.

Somewhere between being caught and being put there, someone had seen him naked. He didn't even know how much time had passed. But couldn't they have done blood-stuff and examinations already?

"Mm. Your parents loved you. It makes a difference in what they want from you."

"Why doesn't he love you?" Clark asked, turning his back to Lex and beginning to remove his jeans. He didn't want to, didn't want to be bare, and when he had pulled them off, he clutched them to himself tightly. "My dad would call him a very bad man."

Lex was there, hands hardly touching his shoulders at all, guiding him up onto the table. "Your dad would be right," Lex almost mumbled, as he pulled back the straps so Clark could lay down. "I think he stopped loving me when I lost all of my hair. It's a stupid thing, isn't it?"

"That's not a very good reason to stop loving somebody. You're not going to... to use those. Are you?" Because it really scared Clark, the thought of those things holding him down. Not that they really could or anything, but it was still pretty scary, especially when Lex gently pulled Clark's jeans from his hands.

"Yeah. I have to." Lex glanced towards the doorway, and seeing the coast still clear, went on, "I know you're strong. They wouldn't really work. But I have to try, unless you're going to lay there perfectly still."

"What are they going to do?" The thought alone terrified Clark, made his tongue dart out to moisten lips gone dry with sudden overwhelming fear.

Lex very carefully strapped Clark's wrists down -- loosely, so he could wiggle a little without ripping them. "Poke and prod you a little. They've been working on Jake all day, so he's probably chatting with his assistant about whatever the results were. Things like this only happen... every couple of days or so."

Clark couldn't help the faint whimper that cracked his throat. "Lex, I really don't like this. Why can't we do something to make it stop?"

"I..." Lex looked at Clark, as he moved to tighten the strap that would hold Clark's chest down. "I don't know how. If I knew how, I wouldn't be here. None of us would be here..." He did up the strap over his belly next, then lifted Clark's knees up into the stirrups that weren't quite sized for him. "I've been here what seems like most of my life, don't you think that if I could just stop it all and go back to being normal, to... being out there and being able to make it, I would?"

The door ever so gently pushed open then, and Lionel was smiling broadly. "Alexander, there's no sense in getting yourself worked up again. You do this every time, son. It's very disappointing."

The words made Lex visibly flinch, and made Clark afraid. It was obvious that the man had been listening to them, and that scared Clark as bad as being naked did. Hadn't someone said something about one-way mirrors? He'd seen some, even. Maybe they were always being watched, someone eavesdropping on them.

Lionel moved into the room, a stern-looking brown-haired young woman following in his wake. "Clark, I'd like you to meet Miss Bryce, who is almost finished with her studies to be a doctor. But for the moment, she helps with my research here. She's going to draw your blood. Now you may feel a bit of pain -- rather amusingly, your skin is impermeable in most circumstances."

"What are you going to do?" Clark's voice was a tiny thing, a frightened thing, and he hated that. He hated seeming young and, and AFRAID, but he was. It didn't matter that he was almost old enough for high school very soon, that he was growing up lots, that he had big feet. He was scared.

"Use my ring," Lionel said easily enough as he slid it off of his finger. "Miss Bryce, get the tourniquet and find a vein for me." She was obedient, and smiling slyly at Clark and at Lex, who was standing back against the wall, mute for the moment.

Finding a vein turned out to be easy enough. The closer that stupid ring came, the more it hurt, and Clark gasped in shock, in pain. He could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin, could see veins popping up everywhere, and the fright in his voice when he cried out was impossible to miss.

"Don't just stand there, Alexander," Lionel tsked, and he waved a hand at his son. Who edged back to the table, taking Clark's other hand while Lionel paced circles around the table, watching Clark, touching him with his eyes. "Good boy."

"It'll be over in a minute," Lex murmured as he watched Miss Bryce stick the needle in Clark's arm, exchanging vials in a quick, efficient manner. The ring was circling the insertion site, making her job so much easier.

"You see, Clark, your own body has a built in self destruct mechanism."

"Ow..." It was barely a whimper, Clark's eyes rolling wildly to view all of them. Even Lex seemed sinister in that light, in the sheer hurt that was flooding up his arm.

"This world doesn't want you running about conquering it, so you can be hurt -- do you feel that? It's a sensation people feel every day. Pain, Clark. If you're good, you won't feel it very often at all." Lionel was so calm, stopping down by Clark's dangling feet, looking at his chest, down to his crotch while the lab assistant removed the syringe. Almost as a second thought, she lifted up the ring.

The removal brought with it a great gasping sigh of relief, Clark's head dropping back to hit the table with a thud. At that particular moment, the sheer wonder of that painful touch to his arm being removed was nearly enough to make him black out from the pleasure. God. Oh, God. How could he have ever done anything to deserve this?

Lex was still holding Clark's other hand, stroking his fingers almost apologetically. "Clark, are you all right?"

Lionel took his ring from his assistant's fingers, and slid it back onto his hand, even as he touched Clark's calf with his other hand. "Miss Bryce, if you could take the hair samples and please leave us."

"Yeah," Clark whispered, tugging faintly at his leg. He was afraid to break the straps when the man had the ring on, even when the woman reached down and began plucking pubic hairs. "Nnn." Oh, he didn't like this, didn't like it at all, and her later quick snips at the hair on his head wasn't much by way of encouragement.

It got worse when Lionel started to stroke his leg before turning away from Clark. "Take both of his hands, Lex. As strong as he is, if he struggles, it will be your hands he breaks."

The bald young man looked stricken for a moment before he moved to stand by Clark's head, reaching his hands to take Clark's. It was an awkward position, but he leaned down and whispered, "I'm sorry this is happening. I'm sorry you're even here."

Not nearly as sorry as Clark was, and Clark expected more of those 'so disappointed in you' lectures from the bad man any moment. He wasn't going to look at the man, he decided, clinging instead to Lex's hands as the woman moved out of sight and then from the room. He wouldn't think about it. He'd just be still, and be good, and not hurt anybody. Not hurt Lex. But what if Lex was a bad guy, too?

Lex wasn't stopping anything. He'd just stood there, was still standing there, and it wasn't what Clark would have done if he were in Lex's position. He would have busted them all out of there, somehow. Lex was older, it was almost his duty to look out for kids like Clark and the others.

And not in the way that Lionel wanted him to.

"What are you saying to the boy, Alexander?" Lionel asked, coming back towards Clark with a tube of something in his hands, and a pair of rubber gloves. "Whispering sweet promises to him?"

"No. I just..."

"You just what, Alexander?" The cool words made Clark shiver worse, his breath beginning to come faster in his fright. "You just feel responsible for the younger ones, hm? Perhaps want to reassure the boy that it's all going to be all right? Well. That's very good of you, my boy."

Very good indeed, but Clark was scared, and he wished that the man would just go away or die or do anything except touch him again. He made Clark afraid.

He made Clark wish he'd never watched so many horror movies with mad scientists who snapped their latex gloves dramatically when they put them on. It left him waiting for the snap of sound that didn't come when Lionel put them on. He was doing something out of the line of Clark's sight, something Clark couldn't guess at before he felt a cold finger pressing down there.

The terrified whine couldn't be stopped. It lodged heavily in Clark's throat, and his entire body froze and then jerked in an attempt to move it, dislodge it, make it all stop. "NO!"

No, because that was what good boys said when strangers touched them in funny places, and Momma had always said to yell no and fire, except Clark didn't think that yelling Fire was going to be any help at all.

Lex was tense above him, maybe even tenser than Clark was, eyes closed tightly because Clark's hands were clutching, grinding bone on bone.

"Do you want me to use the finger with the ring on it?" Lionel asked almost politely as he pressed that slicked digit forwards into Clark despite the 'No'.

"No," Clark managed to say again, but his voice broke in the center, and he'd never felt so alone. So scared.

So utterly fucking mortified, and God, if his mother ever even imagined that word coming out of mouth, she'd have washed it out with soap. The thought brought stinging heat to his eyes, and he bit down hard on his tongue to try and keep it back. He wasn't, wasn't, wasn't going to let this bad man see him hurt.

Wasn't.

"What do you think of Alexander's empty words now, Clark?" The finger moved, twitched and twisted, then pulled back a little. Then in again. Fucking him. He wasn't even supposed to know what that word meant, at least according to his mom and the bar of soap that he'd never be threatened with again, but he'd seen the cows, and even the barn cats...

And then there was a second finger being added, and a third at the same time. It was getting harder to not show hurt, harder not to cry and yell at the ceiling. It wasn't that it burned or anything, like pain seemed to when Daddy touched the tractor and jerked his hand back, smothering soap-words by shoving the hurt fingers in his mouth. It was more that it felt bad and all wrong and it made Clark desperate to escape.

Desperate to be anywhere, anywhere, except right there on that table in that moment.

Even Hell had to be better, didn't it? Some Methodist Hell full of fire and brimstone and naughty devils with pitchforks. Anything.

Anything.

Would be better.

And then he couldn't help himself, because his eyelids just wouldn't hold the tears back anymore, or his lips the sound of jagged aching breaths, and maybe he was hurting Lex too much, but he couldn't tell anymore.

Lionel was saying something, but it didn't reach his ears until the snarl of, "Are you listening, Clark?", while the man's other gloved hand wrapped itself around his limp penis. The ring was barely touching him, the metal underside cold even through latex. "Say yes if you want me to stop."

"Yes," Clark sobbed. Yes, yes, he wanted him to stop, because that ring hurt so bad. So bad, and Clark didn't care what he might have missed, if only it would stop!

"Move your hands up to Alexander's wrists," Lionel half ordered and half-coaxed as he started to remove his hand from Clark's crotch, even pulling out the fingers that had been in him. Maybe he was done. Maybe he just wanted Clark to assent.

Maybe.

The thought was enough to induce Clark's moss-green eyes to flutter open, his gaze shifting up to Lex in confusion. There was a certain resignation in the face looking down at him that was disturbing, but Clark slid his shaking hands up all the same, holding almost tenderly to Lex's wrists.

Lex hardly moved when Clark moved his hands, but he winced and halfway opened wet eyes to look back at Clark. "Just take deep breaths," he whispered, "and it'll be all over soon. You'll see."

What? Clark didn't understand what would be over soon, and he was scared to ask.

Terrified, actually. He'd never been so scared in his whole life, not even when he'd gone to Greg's tree house and nearly fallen out and the foundry had made him feel sick-bad like the Bad Man's ring.

Not Lionel, no. He didn't deserve a name. Just the Bad Man, Clark decided.

There was another plastic-covered press between his legs, and bare fingers spreading his bottom, elbows nudging his legs apart for a moment. "Take a deep breath, now. Don't let it out until I tell you."

Deep breath. Deep breath. What was going ON down there!? Clark couldn't look, wouldn't look, could only stare up at Lex in frantic apprehension. Something, something, something BAD...

Something wicked...

The mewl that broke his lips was thin and high-pitched, a faint keen that didn't seem natural in any way, and he couldn't help it when his fingers tightened on Lex.

He couldn't help it.

Lex let out a mewl of his own, and the room was just full of sounds as Lionel snapped his hips almost gently forwards, just enough to lodge himself into Clark. "Oh, you are a beautiful young man, Clark. I can tell that you'll do well here..."

Oh, no. Oh, no. Clark didn't want to do well, there or anyplace else, ever again, and he shook his head wildly in denial. It was so fast that it was probably just a blur of motion, and it shook the table, shook Lex, shook the Bad Man. No, no, no, and he was chanting it, saying it over and over again, and he wasn't crying because big boys didn't.

Didn't cry.

But maybe Clarks did.

And maybe Lexes did, too, because Clark's forehead was wet.

Clark could feel hips pressing against his butt and the back of his thighs, fingers stroking his legs, and then motion, in and out, in and out so fast that it could have rivaled the blur of his head shaking. Fingers wrapped around his penis, without the ring, fondling when the urge struck the Bad Man.

It didn't help any. It wasn't like laying in bed alone at night and the faint memories of blue eyes and porcelain cheek. It wasn't like thinking of Lana, or anything that felt good. It just felt bad, and wrong, and evil, and Clark hated it, thighs squeezing together despite himself as he screamed loud enough to draw the whole floor to them if anybody cared.

Nobody did, Clark figured, or the Bad Man wouldn't think he could do it.

The Bad Man gave up on petting him, and just drove in and out and in and out and in and... Then pulled out, panting. He pulled his gloves off, and turned away from the table. "Take him back to his room, Alexander, and see that he rests. You're allowed to do the same. I look forwards to seeing you again, Clark." The refuse was dumped in a biohazard bin, and Lionel zipped his pants up when he turned back to them.

Lex didn't have any replies but a choked noise, holding very still where he stood.

It was just as well. Clark wasn't so sure he could do any better. It was all he could do to keep a hold on his breath, to keep from screaming, to keep from closing his eyes and just dying then and there. If Lex was supposed to be nice and to help... But why hadn't he? Clark just didn't know, didn't know anything anymore, and his fingers creaked when he finally let go of Lex's wrists.

Lex dropped to his knees, right out of Clark's line of sight, gasping raggedly. "Oh, oh fuck..."

"Not today, Alexander," Lionel said lightly as he moved for the door. "Good evening, son. It was such a pleasure to meet you, Clark."

"Mmn." It was a pathetic attempt at an answer, barely a whimper, and Clark couldn't hide the way that he was shaking. His fingers clenched spasmodically around the emptiness Lex's missing flesh had left, and the rest of him shuddered faintly with shock.

The room was quiet after Lionel closed the door behind him except for the hurt noises Lex was making on the floor. It sounded like he'd hit his head a couple of times, too, because the examination table shook a few times before he half-stood up. "Hey... hey, Clark? Just, just break the strap, I c-can't unbuckle them..."

Clark didn't know that he could break them, either, his head spinning, eyes darting from side to side slowly almost as if... Well, as if that green rock was back again. It hurt. Oh, it hurt, and he felt so funny, and he wanted to cry some more. And why was Lex hitting his head?

The older boy gave out another noise, and slipped down some, finally just resting his forehead against the edge of the examination table. He was breathing hard, fast, smothering down noises. "Clark... Clark, listen to me. Please, please just break the straps. I won't be able to get them for you, and it'll be better if we go, go back to your room n-now..."

Go back to his room now. Back to that cold place, but God, it was better than this place, wasn't it? And maybe nobody would get upset if he broke the straps. "Will they care?" he wondered, and maybe he even said it out loud, but he broke one of them, anyway, and then shifted to unbuckle the others.

"N-no..." Lex struggled a moment, and gave an almost squeaked gasp when there was another crunch noise that reached Clark's ears. Then he started to shakily stand, leaning his torso heavily on the table. He looked bad, face wet, and blotchy red in places from pain or contortions. "They don't care... The straps are there for s-show."

For Show? They were there for SHOW? "I don't understand." He didn't. He was naked and aching funny and he didn't like it, and he didn't understand. "What's wrong?" Maybe the Bad Man had done something bad to Lex, too, because... Oh, no, maybe Clark had!

"N-nothing. It'll heal," Lex dismissed as he leaned against the table, standing with his arms at his side and his hands out of sight. "The, the straps -- I mean, you just got yourself out. You can. Most of us can."

"I don't understand anything," Clark declared in misery, looking for Lex's hands. He must have hurt Lex, and he hadn't meant to, only the Bad Man had been doing things to him, and. And maybe the Bad Man was right.

Maybe he did need to be kept in, away from everyone, to help protect them.

Clark could see Lex's hands if he leaned a little, and his wrists -- crushed, bruised and bloody, too thin in places and swelling at others. It looked horrible, and they were his hands, his wrists. People needed those!

"I'll explain it later. If it... it's possible..." Lex was looking at Clark's face, focusing on his features. "Think you can get dressed?"

"Mmm. Hm." Yeah, Clark could get dressed, maybe, but he'd hurt Lex, even though somebody had hurt him, too. Maybe if he was lucky, the Bad Man would have tons of that green rock someplace. Right at that moment, he wouldn't mind drowning himself in it, if he could, sucking up great lungs full and dying with it.

Clark had never wanted to hurt anybody.

And Lex was just looking at him. Not scared, not angry, just in pain and maybe a little sadder than he'd first looked. He wasn't really crying much, wasn't yelling at Clark like Jonathan had the time he'd accidentally dropped the tractor wheel on his dad's foot. "All right," Lex whispered, sounding a little strained, "Then do that, and we'll go back..."

He seemed so eager to go back. Maybe something worse would happen if they stayed?

Clark decided that he didn't want to find out.

He didn't want to find out, and so it didn't matter how he hurt or ached, he was nearly a whirlwind as he pulled his clothes on and moved to stand beside Lex, wiping his face ruthlessly against the hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Lex. I'm sorry I hurt you," he apologized miserably.

Lex started to move away from Clark, and moved his arms behind his back some so Clark couldn't really see. "That's all right. It... he did it on purpose. I'm already... starting to heal... Don't be sorry."

"Maybe he's right," Clark whispered, sniffing and rubbing his face again. "Maybe I should be in here. My Mom and Dad. They're dead because of me. And I hurt you." He didn't want Lex to move away from him, so he followed, which meant that he headed out into the hall behind the other boy.

"They're dead because he had them killed," Lex whispered in reply, and moved his hands forwards and out of Clark's sight again. They were really painful looking, hanging limp from crushed wrists, something he would have been grounded dead for doing. "It isn't you. Don't let him get in your head..."

"I still hurt you." That was inarguable fact. "We need to make somebody look at it, Lex..." They were terrible, even if Clark couldn't see them.

"I heal," he reiterated while he turned down a hallway that Clark was sure they hadn't taken before then. Maybe it was a shortcut so they wouldn't have to walk through the commons room. "That's why I'm here."

"That doesn't seem very dangerous." And if he talked about Lex's strange gifts, his presence, then they didn't have to talk about Clark's, and Clark didn't have to think about anything that had happened.

He didn't want to think about anything that had happened.

"I don't think so, either. It's not even useful like Cyrus. I can't share it..." He hitched another noise, and started to walk a tiny bit faster, making Clark pick up his speed.

"Lex?" His voice squeaked in the center of that word, but he moved even faster, wondering if it would make Lex happier if he just sort of, well. Grabbed him and ran maybe. Except probably it wouldn't, because Clark had just really hurt him.

"I'll explain when we're in your room, Clark..." A little faster, and then Lex was jogging, and Clark had to follow because the route was so circuitous. But the surroundings were starting to become familiar again, and Lex made a right onto the hallway with the windows into the uncomfortable bedrooms.

"I could run us there, if you told me the way..." Because Clark was really kind of scared, to be honest about it.

"We're here," he declared with clear relief, pausing to let Clark walk into the two doored hallway first. He could hear a faint roaring, snarling noise, and Lex ducked in behind him, slamming his elbow against the close button. "In, in, get in and let me close the second door..."

Clark was an absolute whirl of motion, his eyes amusingly huge in his face as he pressed his back against the wall across from the door. "What IS that!?" he blurted, watching Lex scurry to make sure they were closed up tightly.

"That's Byron," Lex told him as they heard it start to slam against the door. Not that they could see it, because the glass window only went one way, but it sure as hell seemed like an it to Clark. Even though they could hear a roaring, scrabbling noise, Lex seemed relaxed and secure. He moved towards Clark's bed and slipped down a little to sit on the floor beside it.

"I don't understand anything," Clark whispered, closing his eyes and dropping to the floor beside Lex. He didn't understand anything. He really just wanted to collapse in a shuddering pile beside the bed and cry, but he wasn't sure there were any tears in him. Not with things as strange as they currently were.

Maybe especially with things as strange as they currently were.

Lex had his mangled hands in his lap, eyes closed. He leaned into Clark a little and murmured, "I'm sorry. He... he does it to... take away your humanity. There isn't much to understand. Hurts, doesn't it?"

Not really. It didn't hurt physically. At least, Clark didn't think so. It felt funny, and it had made his heart hurt, but.

But.

It was all just so weird.

"I don't know," Clark admitted finally. "I. I don't know. Everything is just so..." Confusing. So new. So much.

"Too much, too fast." Lex made a pained noise, rolling his head back against the edge of Clark's bed. It looked like the swelling in his hands, the mangled skin of his wrists was starting to slowly, slowly heal. The snarling had stopped outside, too, which was a relief. "You're just a kid, and now you're going to be trapped here like I am."

"I just don't understand," Clark admitted miserably. "I've never hurt anybody. I wouldn't hurt anybody." Except that he had hurt Lex, and he couldn't help gently reaching to trace a finger over the damage. "This is the worst thing I've ever done."

Lex winced back from his finger, going tense for a moment. "And it was an accident. He, he knew that he was going to hurt you and that you're strong. He wanted you to believe that you're a freak, that you'd hurt people..."

"Haven't I?" It was a little question, asked once Clark's hand jerked away from Lex's skin. "I've hurt you. I hurt my mom and dad, just by being me."

"You're not listening." The older boy sighed that, and turned his head a little to look at Clark. "Are you? It's not you, Clark. It's him."

"But if I hadn't done something, then I wouldn't be here at all..." Clark was confused, but he figured that wasn't so unusual. He felt that way a lot lately, and his dad had said that it was okay. That it was his age.

"The only thing you did was be different. Do you think I did anything to be here? Or Cyrus?" He didn't mention Tina or Ian, Clark noticed, or anyone else that Clark hadn't met yet. But he hadn't seemed too close to either of the other two when they'd been in the common room.

"...no." No, Clark didn't think that, because Cyrus was too nice, and Lex was too sad, but he didn't know everything, did he? He didn't know if he could actually trust any of these people. "No. But if we didn't, then I just don't understand WHY?" He was so horribly confused, and tired down to his very bones.

"Because my father is sick. And maybe it does protect us. There are worse people out there. People who'd dissect us." Lex shifted one arm, and there was a faint cracking noise as he closed his eyes tightly and tried to slip an arm behind Clark's head. "Just go to sleep. Sleep heals."

"Not as well as Cyrus," Clark decided, letting Lex do that for him and laying his head on the older boy's shoulder. Maybe if they were going to sleep... "We could get up in the bed?"

"Yeah. What side do you prefer?" Lex didn't make a motion to move just yet, waiting for an answer instead. "I can turn off the lights. Would that help you sleep?"

Clark thought about it for a minute. "Sometimes, I'd sleep between my parents. So. Either side is okay. But I'd like it if the lights were out. Please."

"Okay." He shifted some, and pulled away from Clark as he tried to stand without using his hands to steady himself. He managed it, because soon he was crossing the room towards the dimmer switch on the opposite wall. "The mattress is kind of hard, but if you sleep with your clothes on, it's bearable."

"All right." It was passable, even though Clark was accustomed to ancient hand-stuffed cotton mattresses, even though his parents had feather stuffed ticks atop their own. He'd live, maybe, and while Lex was turning down the lights, he pulled down the thin sheet and blanket that made a pretense at being coverings.

He was going to pretend that the bed didn't seem to be metal, with some sort of hard foam atop it as a mattress. Everything there seemed to be about pretenses.

Lex waited until Clark was laying down before he killed the lights entirely, then crossed the dark cavern of space to gently nudge Clark over a little with his knee, while he toed off his own shoes. "I wanted to try to protect you on your first day here. Seems that I didn't do such a good job of it."

"Maybe tomorrow will be better," Clark murmured, scooting over a bit to let Lex lay down. There wasn't a lot of space, but the warmth of an extra body felt good, felt better than good. It was almost comforting.

Clark decided he was going to take comfort where he could get it.

"Maybe." Lex didn't seem to have much hope in his voice, as he folded his arms carefully so his hands weren't touching much. "Maybe it'll be a sunny day and we'll be upstairs..."

Clark liked the sun. He hoped that he'd get to see it soon. "Is it okay if I put my arm around you?" he asked, uncertain. That would probably keep them from falling off of the bed. He was pretty sure his twin at home was bigger.

"Yes. If you want to." It wasn't like Clark's hand could get caught in hair or anything because he couldn't see exactly what he was doing. "And by the time we wake up, it'll probably be time to eat."

Clark's stomach growled. He wondered what time it really was, anyway. "Okay," he agreed simply, sliding his arm carefully over Lex and closing his eyes. They'd rest. They'd rest just for a while...

Lex seemed like brand new when he led Clark, Cyrus, and another gangly looking boy who was really excited. Apparently there really was a pool on the roof, and the Bad Man hadn't been lying about it. A new day, and maybe things would be better.

When they mounted up the last set of stairs, Clark could feel the warm brilliant rays of sun reaching down to him. It didn't even matter that the roof had wire fencing around it, because the sun was bright and high, and the Bad Man hadn't lied.

It was really nice up there.

"The swimming trunks are over there. They'll have your initials on them," Lex told Clark while Cyrus rushed to get to where they were laid out. No place to change, and Tina was already up there, staring at them all.

"Where do we change?" Clark asked, even as he noticed that Cyrus was just changing in front of Tina, not blinking so much as once. The awkward lanky boy who'd come up with them also seemed to lack any hint of shyness.

"Right here," Lex murmured as he shucked his t-shirt off and up over his head, and dropped it onto the tile a little away from the pool. "There's the sheltered area for winter, but it's all glass. It's impossible to hide here. Remember the one way windows in the bedrooms?"

"So somebody's always watching." And Clark was naturally very shy, so this was going to be hard. His cheeks flamed violently, his eyes turning down towards Lex's shirt. "Oh."

"Always," Lex confirmed as he half-watched the gangly boy -- Jake, he'd told Clark -- dive eagerly into the water. Then his eyes traveled upwards while he fidgeted his belt open. "It's so good to be out and to see the sky. Sometimes we get to come up here at night. We're so far away from the city that the stars are beautiful. Particularly in the winter."

"I like the stars," Clark confessed, moving in a desultory sort of way to pull his own clothing off. It wouldn't be so hard if Tina wasn't watching him. He wondered if, maybe, he could just run right over to the wall and scale up. The wires couldn't cut his flesh. He wondered how far down it was.

"You do? So does Byron. Maybe we could come up here some night with one of my Astronomy books," Lex offered as he moved away to pick up his own swim trunks. That weren't really trunks. More like teeny tiny underpants. Or maybe even less than teeny tiny.

Maybe it wasn't so far down. And even if it was...

Maybe, Clark thought, it was worth the fall.

"Here, Clark, these are yours," Lex murmured as he picked up the equally small pair with 'C.K' on the edge. He turned just at the moment that Clark had rushed the wire fence, and was starting to climb. One of the Ians shouted something, and then it hit Clark.

It was like those fireworks shows that they'd gone to on the forth of July, just he and his mom and dad, and a lot of bad lemonade, and his friends. Only it was a starburst shell exploding right in the center of his chest as he reached a hand up to move further up the fence.

And when he drew it back, there was blood.

And when he fell, he could feel it in the back of his head, a thunk that couldn't be good.

And when he closed his eyes...

Clark opened them to a similar scene as the one he'd last seen; only the sun was at a different angle, and he was stretched out on a lounge chair. His head still ached a little, but otherwise he felt fine. Tina was in the pool, both Ians were sunning themselves nearby, Jake was nowhere to be seen, and Lex...

Lex pulled himself out of the pool, dripping wet as he padded almost eagerly towards Clark's chair. "Clark! Hey, you're awake..."

"Uh." It was the best Clark could do, the closest thing to an answer. Wow. He hurt. Most of him, in fact, hurt all over. Did the man have lots of little green rocks embedded in the walls? How could he have done it that fast, Clark wondered. "Um. I'm awake," he answered. "Ow."

"You slept through lunch, so I saved you some." Lex picked up a towel from a stand back behind Clark, and half-heartedly dried himself as he poured Clark a glass of juice. "Drink this, it'll help you feel better."

"Feel better from what?" Clark asked blearily, but he took it and gave Lex a faint smile, one that was probably a lot weaker than the day before, but which still showed a certain trust in Lex. After all, he had to trust somebody.

If he didn't trust someone, then there was no hope for him to have while he was there. "From..." Lex watched Clark drink it for a moment, and then settled cross-legged beside Clark's lounge chair. "The restrictor. Lionel had it put in you before he left you with us, I guess. I didn't know, he only told me when we were moving you over here..."

"Restrictor?" It was a funny word, one that made Clark's eyes cross. Maybe that was just the exhaustion he felt, even as he gratefully sipped his juice. "I figured there might be meteor rocks in the fence." He glanced down at his palms. They seemed better, not torn the way he remembered.

"Too much trouble," Lex murmured as he moved a hand to rest atop Clark's chest for a moment. "It's somewhere in here. It's whatever green rock that he has in his ring."

"Great," Clark slurred, shaking his head. "It's not that I want to leave you. Any of you. Here. Just. It would be worth it even if there was a fifty floor drop on the other side, I think."

"I think it's only ten or so," Lex told him as he shifted to take the glass from Clark when it was empty. "That's how I got out the last time I tried to escape. Now there's another ring of barbed wire around the compound, and the security guards have tazers."

Clark allowed a weak giggle to slip from his lips. "Hm. That wouldn't be fun, but it would be lots better than those meteor rocks. Um. I hurt all over. I just. I haven't made things worse for anyone else, have I?"

"Cyrus got himself a little worked up, but other than that, we're all fine." Lex twisted away for a moment, letting his towel pool in his lap, and when he leaned back he was carefully balancing a tray of food for Clark that he'd retrieved from that table. "I hope you don't try that again."

"Why?" Clark asked him, reaching forward to take it. "I mean, why do you hope that?" Because Clark wasn't sure yet, but he got the feeling that the attempt might well be worth the pain if he actually got free.

If he could find a way to overcome the crippling sensation of it.

"Because next time you do it..." Lex shifted his towel a little, as if it were helping to keep him more warm than the sun's warming rays. "He said he's going to take it out on us until you come to. That's not even if you do escape..."

It was enough to take Clark's breath away, the mere thought of someone else suffering because of a decision he made. "That's... not very fair," he whispered, suddenly sick beyond any hope of eating.

"Not at all," was Lex's simple agreement. Then he leaned forwards to prod at Clark's tray a little. "You need to eat. The food's actually really good."

"I'm never going to understand. Why make the food good if you're going to just hurt somebody the next time they turn around? Why have a place that's nice like this if you're going to send something scary to chase somebody into their room?"

"Because people come here sometimes," Lex offered tentatively. "And visit. Byron's parents do. Sometimes he'll put on a dog and pony show for the some charity organization. So the place has to be nice. They can't know what he does."

"So they know we're here," Clark said slowly, beginning to pick at the sandwich on his plate. It was gorgeous, the kind of sandwich he thought of when he read comics or saw cartoons and the people were eating someplace fancy. "And they know what we can do?" What we are, he didn't say.

"No. We're... charity cases. Runaways with less than average intelligence, or kids who incur horrible medical costs, or... insane. So it makes my father look like a real good guy. I'm sure that he has a cover-story for why you're here. He has one for each of us." Lex was toying with Clark's empty glass as he talked. It was a nice tall plastic tumbler, like the kind they had in restaurants. Everything had that gleam to it, and it was easy to see how people could think Lionel was nice to them.

"I'll be one of the crazy ones," Clark decided. "Killed my parents, maybe. Responsible." Just the thought made his heart ache. "I guess we're in this together, then."

"Seems so. There's no other way to be, is there?" Lex glanced over when foot-falls approached them, Cyrus giving a slight wave to Clark.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Clark said shyly. "'M sorry if I got anybody into any trouble." He really was, and he'd be even sorrier if somebody got hurt all because he thought it might be worth it to run.

"You didn't," Cyrus was quick to assure as he put his hands on his hips and looked at Clark, really looked at him as if searching for injury. Lex watched that motion carefully. "So when you're done eating, you're going to join us swimming, right?"

"Sure," Clark agreed, giving a little smile. "I have to wait half an hour, right?" After all, his mom had always told him that. Plus, Tina wouldn't be watching him anymore.

"That's an old wives tale, but if you really want to, I guess it's okay," Cyrus decided.

Lex smiled a little, and shifted to stand up. "Cyrus, you're taking a break?" He waited until Cyrus had given half a nod, and started to stand. "All right. I'm going to get back into the pool. It's a little cold out here. Make sure you eat, okay, Clark?"

"I promise," Clark told him, taking a bite just to prove it. That seemed to satisfy Lex because he went back towards the pool, only glancing back now and again. "He's nice." It was a generic sort of observation.

"He tries to help out," Cyrus murmured as he settled on the other side of the lounge, looking at Clark. "I think he thinks this is all his fault. If he hadn't been like we all are, then his father never would have started to look for us, and we'd all be in our homes doing... kid stuff."

"My d-dad used to say that we can only take responsibility for ourselves," Clark stuttered, fiddling with his sandwich. "So. I think maybe trying to be responsible for a man that bad isn't something he ought to do."

Cyrus gave a nod, then leaned in a little. "It's not your fault your parents died. Later... I heard him telling Lex that later he wants to talk to you again. Don't believe what Lionel says. He lies lots."

"Because he's bad." Clark understood that. "Somebody ought to stop him, then. I reckon. So that he doesn't hurt anybody else."

"How?" Cyrus wasn't challenging that it was possible, but it seemed like he was demanding to know how, how and if indeed it could be done at all. Because he wanted to get out, too, it was clearly written on his small face.

"I don't know," Clark admitted, but the challenge of it forced himself to take a big bite of his sandwich. "I don't know, but I think we ought to do our best to find out how. Even if we end up just sending up smoke signals to the world at large." Clark hated injustice. Clark hated Lionel.

Cyrus looked a little wistful, nodding as he looked up to the sky. They all hated Lionel, or seemed to. Lionel had taken things from them. Lionel had taken Clark's mom and his dad, and he just couldn't get away with that.

Somehow, Clark would find a way to make sure that he didn't get away with it.

"How many other people are there here?" Clark asked Lex later in the evening as they headed back down towards the other common room. It was time to come in, and let the others have the evening to swim and play on the roof.

Clark wondered why he couldn't go up and see the stars, too.

"There's eight more," Lex told him quietly as they walked the hallway. He and Clark were a little ahead of the pack. "They're in another wing because they... they don't react well to sunlight. They're artificially this way. My father had a hand in creating all of them into what they are now. None of it turned out well..."

His voice fell a little as this paler group approached them. Some of them seemed vacant, and there was a pair of twins among them with glassy pupil-less green eyes. One looked at them, and then broke away to veer for Lex and Clark.

"Lex! It's been days!"

Clark carefully eyed the pale boy with the shy smile and the overly prominent eyeteeth as he moved closer to Lex. The others passed by a little too closely, and when the kelly-eyed twins came close to him, Clark felt a shiver dance down his spine.

It was hardly any wonder that they were heading up to the pool at night. The shy-looking boy all but tackled Lex, though, hugging him tightly -- and the gesture was warmly returned. Then he smiled over Lex's shoulder at Clark. "Hello, are you new?"

"His name is Clark," Lex smiled as he pulled away a little. "Clark, this is Byron. Byron and I have been here the longest." Even if Byron looked only a little older than Clark. "Do you think Clark and I could head back up with you guys to the pool?"

"I don't see why not. It's a Saturday, after all."

"We won't get in trouble?" Clark asked, surprised. "I'd like to see the stars. Please." He missed them so much, and it would be worth going past the funny grassy-eyed pair. Maybe. "It's nice to meet you, Byron." His mom would be ashamed to know he'd forgotten all of his manners.

"Saturdays are late curfew days," Lex told Clark as he gave the Ians a little wave when they passed, and turned himself and Clark around to follow the other group back up. "So we can, as long as we're back down to the room-hall by midnight.

"It's nice to meet you." Byron's shy smile spread a little more as they started up the stairs. "How long have you been here, Clark?"

"Since yesterday, I think." Clark glanced over at Lex as if to ascertain the truth of that fact, but then looked at Byron. "I guess you must have been here a really long time, huh?" The pallor of his skin compared to the darkness of his eyes said a lot about that to Clark.

Maybe he'd just seen one horror movie too many when he was having sleepovers at Pete's house.

"Almost as long as Lex," Byron agreed. "Almost. Maybe... four years now? Or three. It's a long time either way. I only go out at night."

"Daylight doesn't agree with him," Lex seemed to understate as they headed back up the long flight of stairs to the roof. The group ahead of them were chatting, faint words that caught the edges of Clark's ears.

"...and then I told Will that they really were giving me the boniest bits for a reason..."

"...but I really wish they wouldn't do that thing with Byron and the sunlamp. Why always Byron, anyway? I've sort of wondered about that..."

It made Clark shudder. He'd definitely seen too many horror movies at Pete's house.

"So..." Byron seemed to be too... shy and weirdly upbeat to be from a proper horror movie. He kept an arm around Lex, looking happy as they climbed higher. "What're you here for, Clark?"

"Ah..." Clark licked his lips and looked to Lex for his cue. "Because I'm fast. And strong. Um. Stronger than usual," he admitted, gaze skittering away from Byron as if in shame.

"That's all right, really. Nothing to be ashamed of." Byron gave his own slightly skittery look, though it was much less than Clark's before he leaned past Lex to murmur, "I turn into a beast if I get into the sun."

"You're not starting a 'whose is worse' contest," Lex cut in dryly.

"You do that?" Clark asked. That was surprising. "I mean, mine's not so bad. I just kept it kind of hidden, and, and I didn't get to play a lot of games with other kids, but... Still."

"It's a gift that dooms," Byron observed. Lex brought a hand up to scruff through his longish hair.

"Enough of that. Clark's had a rough day, and no one wants that. Rough day or night. He's new here. Let him have a little hope." Lex seemed so relaxed with the other boy as they stepped out of the stairwell and up into the cool night air. But they'd known each other for four years -- that was a long time.

Maybe if Clark knew them for four years, he'd be as easy with them, too. In a strange sort of way, he wanted that, to feel as if he could easily be friendly with them. On the other hand, more than anything, he just wanted to go home.

Instead, he said, "I can't believe the stars will already be out when we get upstairs."

"Well, we did have supper," Lex reminded as he moved his other hand to reach for Clark's shoulder, guiding him towards the promise of the night's sky. He could almost see it, a glow in the darkness.

"We're far away enough from the city that you can see it well," Byron added. "I don't suppose either of you want to swim, do you? I bet your fingers are soggy."

"We stayed in a lot," Clark agreed. He was blushing, but he couldn't help it. At least when he was in the water, Tina wasn't watching him, and Ian wasn't leering about his swimsuit.

After all. Only Lex and Clark had the tiny swim suits, and Ian had made a lot of jokes about 'gay suits' instead of swim suits, and Clark had needed to remember that he wasn't supposed to hit people. Even if he wanted to.

"It feels good," Byron said, almost encouragement as they stepped up onto the concrete and the flush cool air of the night at last. "If it's too cold, we can sit in the enclosure and look out. It's all really nice..."

"Let's do that," Lex agreed.

Clark couldn't help himself. He looked up and a sweeping sense of relief filled him at the sight of the stars. A faint breath escaped him, his shoulders slumping a little. "Oh," he whispered, momentarily closing his eyes to keep the sense from becoming overwhelming.

It was a lot like when he sat in the loft and looked out through the loft doors. Only it was a little darker, and the sky seemed so open because there weren't any trees to interfere.

"I think he likes it out here," Byron whispered mutedly. There was some reply from Lex, and it sounded happy enough when a hand settled gently on Clark's shoulder.

"You should sit down before you get dizzy and fall."

"Huh?" It was a dazed sort of answer, Clark's mouth open with awe. "Oh. Because I'm looking up. Right." He plopped down on the roof right where he stood, utterly fascinated. "It's so beautiful. I want to come out every night."

"We'd get in trouble if we did," Lex declared as he sat down beside Clark on the roof, one leg drawn comfortably up. Byron settled on Lex's other side, and for a comfortable moment, all three of them were looking up at the sky.

"It would be worth it." Even if it included hurting Lex. Even if it included Lionel, that bad man, doing THINGS to him again.

"Yes," Byron agreed very quietly. "It might be."

"Maybe." Lex leaned back on his hands and tipped his head back to watch like Clark was. Slowly, slowly, the stars seemed to shift across the sky. "I remember when I was younger, the meteor shower in Smallville. I always wondered how different things would have been if it had happened at night instead of in the afternoon. At least it would have looked better."

"It would have been beautiful," Clark said softly. The meteors changed people, changed everything, and even though he wasn't sure where he'd been when they had fallen, he knew he must have been amongst them.

"Instead of what it was," Lex agreed, and he looked over at Clark for a moment before looking back up. They had a pocket of quiet where they were sitting on the roof-top, but even over in the pool the others were muted as if in deference to the darkness.

It was the first time since he'd arrived there that Clark felt... almost happy. At least at some sort of peace, and it was nice. The stars crawled over the sky in their tireless trek; Byron shifted to stretch out, pillowing his head on Lex's lap and smiling a touch goofily.

"Ahh, a beautiful night, isn't it?"

Clark shivered, thinking that the hair on the back of his neck should have risen in warning. Why hadn't it?

"I see that you've brought our new friend to enjoy the evening, Alexander," Lionel continued. "You really ought to be downstairs, you know."

Lex tipped his head back a little more to look up at his father upside down for a moment, and then shifted to sit up properly. He'd had a hand touching Byron's hair, and those fingers shifted to push Byron away. "It isn't curfew yet, is it, sir?"

"It's my fault," Byron offered immediately as he shifted from sprawled comfortably out to sitting up. "I wanted to meet Clark, and..." And they'd just sat there, and enjoyed the stars. They'd hardly even talked, and Clark had to wonder why Lionel seemed displeased.

"No, it isn't curfew yet. I simply expected to find you in the room downstairs and find you here instead. I'm sure it's all explainable, Alexander. Clark, why don't you come with me? I'm sure that Alexander can be trusted to remain here."

The words made the bottom drop out of Clark's stomach, his eyes twitching towards Lex automatically.

"Father..." Lex started to stand up, expression something close to defiant for the first time that Clark had seen him. "We'll go back downstairs now, if that's what you want."

"No, no. Enjoy your free time here with Byron." The man's lip was neatly curling, an expression that made Clark's head drop down slightly, a shiver working through him. "I only want to... introduce young Clark to someone."

It made Lex look more uneasy, and he glanced to Clark for a moment before looking back at Lionel. "Father, can I go with him? He's still new here, I..." Didn't want to leave him alone with Lionel, because who knew how much worse things could be without a witness there?

Byron gave a sigh, and Clark felt the other boy's lean fingers lay on top of his shoulder. "Sir, we were really all having a nice time up here..."

"So eager to give up your free time, gentlemen." Lionel sounded pleased at the thought. "Perhaps you would enjoy more intensive study, then? I'm sure that we can find subjects which would interest both of you."

"I'll go." Clark's voice was thready at best, but it was there. Better than nothing.

"Well, boys..." Lionel looked twice as pleased as he turned away a little. "Come along, Clark. Alexander, I want to see you at curfew, in my office."

"Yes, Dad." Lex shifted back and looked at Clark, trying to apologize with intense blue eyes.

It was okay. Well, it wasn't, but Clark tried to tell Lex so without saying as much, waving his hand a little as he moved to follow Lionel. The demand to see Lex at curfew made Clark shiver, made him fear as much for the older boy as he did for himself. It just wasn't right, was it? It couldn't be.

"I'll see you later, Clark," Lex promised as he moved to sit back down.

"It was nice meeting you!" Byron called that to Clark's back as he started to walk with Lionel, because Lionel had a hand, firm and insinuating, on Clark's shoulder.

But at least Lex got to sit outside a little while longer, and he got to stay with Byron. Byron seemed like a nice guy, the kind Clark could bring himself to want to trust. Like Lex and Cyrus. Nice.

The opposite of what Lionel was.

"How has your day been, Clark?"

"Okay, I guess." Aside from the morning period of unconsciousness, it hadn't been too bad. "I wish I could go home, though. I miss my parents." There was no point in lying or in pretending that he didn't miss them. It had to be obvious, and Clark was sure that Lionel would have already figured that out. His escape attempt alone should have been enough to make that obvious.

"Of course you do," Lionel agreed solicitously enough as they walked down the steps, leaving starlight and comfort behind Clark. He laid a hand on Clark's shoulder, and caressed it to the back of Clark's neck, just above his t-shirt. "But you have no home to go to but here."

"I guess." He felt the skin on his arms rise in defense against the man's touch, his mouth forming a sharp frown. "It doesn't mean that I have to be happy about it, though." Or happy about what Lionel had done to him, either.

"No, but you can certainly enjoy yourself while you're here, can't you, Clark? Won't you try...?" Fingers delved ever so slightly beneath the collar of his shirt. It made what was left of their supper coil in Clark's belly and curdle, his eyes falling to the floor.

"Maybe," he said grudgingly, sure that was what the man wanted to hear. "But I've just lost my parents."

"Of course, of course. I'm simply trying to adjust you quickly to how things work here. You see, there are certain rules and expectations that you will be dealing with every day. Mondays through to Fridays, you will be schooled during the day and study, and play a little. There will occasionally be medical tests... and the weekends are like today was." The fingers remained, and pressed a little as Lionel guided Clark to turn once they were off of that set of stairs. Headed, probably, for Lionel's office.

"As long as you don't act out, life here can be enjoyable."

"Is there a list? Of rules, I mean?" Clark asked, frowning. He was obviously going to have to be very devious to escape, and today was a sign of that. Until then...

Well.

Clark was a good boy.

He'd keep on being a good boy, even if he hated it.

"Written down, you mean? No, no... Did your parents have rules written down, or did you simply know them, Clark?" So smug, he sounded so smug and sure of what he was saying as he talked down to Clark.

"They told them to me," Clark said very firmly. "And I learned them, so that I would know what was right and what was wrong. So a list would be greatly appreciated." He would try to be nice about it. Really. He would.

Except that it was HARD.

"Fascinating," Lionel remarked as he slipped his hand a little to rest just a little lower, only his thumb still above the collar of Clark's shirt. "You will follow the routine that is given to you. When the rest of your group goes downstairs, you go downstairs with them. I'm afraid I've been a little lax with Alexander lately, and I don't want him to set a bad example for you. Your group will have scheduled times that you can sit outside and see the stars, I promise you that. I know that seeing where you came from must be very important to you."

"Where I came from?" The question was sharp when it fell from Clark's lips, confusion written plainly across his face as he looked up at Lionel. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain it to you in my office, Clark," Lionel said kindly as they turned down a hallway that Clark recognized. Yes, that was the office that Lex had accompanied him to last time. "First, I want you to meet someone."

Clark didn't want to meet anybody. He wanted an explanation, and the sheer implication of Lionel's words made his head spin. "I guess that's all right." Even if it wasn't.

"I think you'll like her. She's a freak like the rest of you, Clark," Lionel said gently, as if it was going to help Clark deal with things. He paused for a moment and pushed his office door open. Seated on Lionel's sofa was a gorgeous-looking young woman wearing a dress that Clark's mother would never have been caught in.

"Desiree, I want you to meet Clark Kent. Clark, meet Desiree."

"Clark. It's so nice to meet you." Her voice was breathy, sweet, and completely terrifying to a thirteen-year-old virgin. She was, Clark decided, the ultimate example of what his mom would have called a floozy.

He tried very hard to remember his manners. "Hello, Miss Desiree. It's very nice to meet you."

"Hello... Clark." She shifted to lean forwards, smiling at him like he had something she wanted. And Lionel crowded behind him, edging Clark into the room.

"Let's go sit on the sofa and talk with Miss Desiree."

Clark didn't want to go in, he didn't want to sit on the sofa, and he sure didn't want to talk with Miss Desiree. Just looking at Miss Desiree actually made Clark sure that the local Baptists might have known more about sin than he'd ever given them credit for knowing. "Um..."

Lionel's hands were on Clark's shoulders, and pushed him gently forwards towards the sofa until he was sitting in the middle, until Lionel was coming up behind him to press uncomfortably close. She was still there, smiling almost slyly at Lionel.

"What do you want me to do?"

"See if you can work your magic on him, Desiree."

"She does magic?" Clark squeaked, trying to get away from them, out from between them.

"You can call it that," she smiled, leaning forwards towards him. She reached fingers forwards, trying to grasp his chin. And it wasn't as if Clark could squirm away backwards, because Lionel was sliding an arm around him, hand on his thigh.

Still, he turned his face slightly to the side, giving her a wild-eyed look and shuddering. He wondered what she was going to try to do, suck the snot out of his nose or something? Because that seemed to be where her mouth was heading, and that was just plain GROSS. "Um..."

"You're cute, for a kid," she murmured, mouth close to his and but also close to his nose when she exhaled. It felt like the words were curling around him, trying to slip up into his brain. "Do you like girls, Clark?"

"I like Lana," he stated firmly, frowning at her. It would have been impolite to say that he didn't like her, no matter what her name was, but it was all Clark could do to keep from saying so.

"And do you like me...?" Slow, breathy words, and she leaned in to kiss him while Lionel slid his other arm around Clark, keeping him still.

"No," Clark croaked, trying to turn his head away from her. It was like Lionel doing that to him the day before; it was something he didn't like and didn't want and absolutely refused to acquiesce to without putting up a fight first.

She let out a slow sigh, and sat back some; that was a relief for Clark, because the imminent threat of having his nose bitten off was gone. "Lionel, it doesn't seem to work on him."

"How interesting." That purr made Clark shudder, his brow knitting sharply as he looked back and forth between the two adults in the room. Something was obviously wrong.

"Well, it's no wonder I don't like you!" he blurted. "I thought you were going to bite my nose!"

The woman looked scandalized, but Lionel gave a laugh. The noise was too well controlled, perfect in every aspect except that it didn't sound like a happy sound. Back with his mom and dad laughter meant that people were happy, not... whatever Lionel was. But Lionel was a Bad Man, so who knew what made happiness for him?

"She breathes pheremones, Clark. Chemicals that stir a man or even a boy's pulse. I should have known that your alien physiology wouldn't react to it."

"Why do you keep saying that? I'm not alien, I'm just different!" He wasn't. He wasn't, because if he was, his mom and dad would have said something. They would have.

Lionel shifted, and Clark could feel his leg moving, his hands pulling Clark back to sit awkwardly against him and almost on the bad man's lap. "Oh, but you are. You're different even among your fellow freaks. Most of them were created by the meteors that fell, but you, you can be undone by that same thing. It's astonishing, and perhaps when you're older I will allow you to look at your DNA."

Clark didn't want to look at his DNA. "I don't believe you," he decided, but the very steadfastness of that statement was ill spoken. There was a shivering of unsteadiness beneath it.

"Then don't believe me," Lionel murmured, lowering his head. He was almost touching Clark, and Desiree started to smile. "What would it take for you to believe me, Clark, that you're not even half a human like the other freaks, hmn?"

"I don't believe anything you say," Clark announced. His eyes went hard when Lionel touched him, his mouth setting into a scowl. "I think you're the reason my parents are dead. And I think you like playing with people and hurting them. I think you're a very bad man."

"I've been very kind with you today, Clark." A breath against his ear, and Clark could feel the man's beard. "Do you want for me to be unkind?"

"...no." No, because Clark was afraid of unkind if today's unconscious episode constituted benevolence. He didn't even want to think about what the day before might have been.

"Then I suggest you stop insulting me... Or my guest. I'd like to let you go down to the commons room to think about what I told you, but if you want to go to the testing room, then by all means. Keep talking."

The sly look that crossed the woman's face implied that she knew a great deal more than Clark was comfortable with her knowing. Of course, her knowing anything at all was more than he was comfortable with, so he just stayed quiet, head bowed slightly. He wasn't going to agree, but neither was he daring to say anything more.

"He's so sweet, Lionel. Such a charming boy."

"I believe so, Desiree. Alexander has taken quite a fondness to him." The hand on Clark's thigh strayed to rest gently over his crotch. "The two of them and Byron were up on the roof star-gazing. What do you think of that, hmn?"

"Hmmmm." The woman licked her lips, eyes clamped on Clark as he squirmed faintly at the touch. "That would be very, very pretty, even if Alexander is such a freak..."

"He is not!" Clark whispered, helpless to remove Lionel's touch. "He's. He's nice."

Helpless because Lionel could make him hurt and pass out. And who knew what Lionel would do to him while he was passed out.

"Of course you would think so. That's part of his charm." Lionel's fingers squeezed for a moment, then started to undo Clark's pants. "Desiree, why don't you provide Clark with a little service while you're here? I'd like him to experience the normal side of the fence."

"I already know about fences!" Clark squeaked, his cheeks flooding with dark color. "I don't need to know anything else about them!"

"Oh, come on, sweetie. Of course you do," Desiree murmured sweetly, leaning close to him and breathing on his nose again, making him want to cough. "You'll want to know all about this..."

"What did you think of what we did yesterday, Clark? That's what my son would like to do to you. Has he told you that?" Lionel pulled the zipper down too quickly, and started to push Clark's jeans down. "Stay still, just like that, Clark."

"No..." Clark didn't know no to what, but he knew that Lionel was lying. He had to be lying, because he was a Bad Man, and that was what bad men did. "No. I don't want to do that. I... Please, I don't want to do that..."

"And what will you do for me, Clark? What will you give me in exchange for not doing that to you?" He was already slipping a hand into Clark's underwear, and gestured for Desiree to lean down.

"I..." Oh, Lord GOD, that woman was going to do worse than bite off his nose, and Clark's voice stopped up in his throat, almost choking him. She was going to bite off his...!

Except...

She didn't.

Oh. That was bad. That was very bad.

"I don't know," Clark whimpered, tears welling up unexpectedly.

"No? You must come up with something, Clark," Lionel purred. "You can't just cry. Doesn't it feel good? Most boys your age would love to have a girl do something that outrageous to them."

"She's going to bite me!" Clark blurted. Worse, his mom just wouldn't approve. She wouldn't like it. She'd hurt them both for doing this thing to him, and he really wanted his mom right now. Right now, so the man would stop, and that girl would stop, except it felt sort of good, and he wished he could squirm loose.

Squirming only proved that Lionel was still half-holding onto him. "She won't bite you -- she's just going to suck your cock. The amusement of your innocence is almost enough to keep me from having you again." The 'almost' sounded ominous as Lionel moved the hand that wasn't holding onto Clark down between them, stroking at his bottom.

Oh. God.

Clark would do almost anything to keep him from doing that again, only he had the feeling that nothing could stop him.

"I hate you," he blurted. "I hate you, I hate both of you!"

It made him feel better, for a moment. It made him feel like he wasn't groveling and begging, even if there was a bloom of pain in his chest that made things suddenly easier. Because he didn't have a choice then, and it was clear that Lionel's intent all along had been to hurt him...

Even though his bedroom was dark and closed, he couldn't help but lay there, still feeling sticky and sick despite the bath he'd had. It was late, so late that everyone else seemed asleep or were reading, or whatever. As long as he had all of his lights out and his eyes closed, no one in the hallway could see that he was still laying awake even though a whole lot of time had to have passed.

Clark was almost scared. And it got worse when the doors to his bedroom opened, letting in a stream of light and a shadow that was silent for a moment.

"Clark...? Are you awake?" Lex, sounding quiet and hoarse.

He wasn't sure if he should answer or not. Answering anything, anybody, seemed like a bad idea just then, and the thought of Lex wanting to do that to him just made it even worse. Lex seemed to want to help him, though, and he had to have somebody to trust. Somebody.

Anybody.

"Yes." It was the barest hint of sound. He couldn't seem to talk much louder. He was afraid to say more.

"Can I stay with you tonight...?" It was an odd question, really odd coming from someone who was so... knowledgeable and sure as Lex always seemed. Telling people to do this or that, saying that such and such was okay, but this or that wasn't. Lex was bossy, even if he was nice about it, and even if he got a little frustrated when people didn't listen.

But he sounded scared. Clark remembered asking his own parents that the first time they'd had a really huge storm. Or a nightmare.

"...yeah." Yeah, because it felt good to say. Because it felt good to pretend a strength that he didn't have and to give it to someone who seemed to need it. He slid over to the edge of the uncomfortable cot they called a bed, pulling the covers back for Lex. He waited until the older boy was closer before whispering, "You okay?"

Lex had closed the doors behind him, so it was impossible to see him when he laid down close beside Clark, once he'd taken his shoes off. Not jeans that night, but sweatpants that were probably warmer and more comfortable. Clark probably had a pair like that somewhere, if he bothered looking through the tightly packed little closet that was 'his'.

"Pretty much," Lex whispered in a toothpaste scented breath. "Are you okay?"

"Been worse." It was comforting, that faint smell, one that reminded him of his mother's before-bed kisses, and the faint memory of learning to brush his teeth with her. "I don't know. You?"

"Yeah. I've been worse..." He shifted his legs, awkward and like he was hurting, before he turned onto his side facing Clark. "Just one of those nights I don't want to be in my room alone."

"I don't mind," Clark confided. He shifted slightly, turning his face towards Lex. "Me, either." He didn't want to be alone at all. He wanted to be home, but that wasn't going to happen, and he was going to have to make the best of things. Lex seemed like a really good example of that. "You sure?"

"That I'll be okay? Sure I will. I heal." But Clark knew that. Clark knew that Lex had carefully gone to sleep with badly mangled hands, and had gotten up okay. "The stars were pretty tonight, weren't they?"

"They're prettier from home," Clark whispered. "I'll show you one day. You and me, and maybe Byron. Cyrus." Because the others, Clark didn't like so much. Especially Ian and Tina, with their eyes, always watching. "I have a telescope."

"I used to have a telescope. You could see the planets really well with it. And the nebula." Lex let out a slow breath, and swallowed. "There's one that looks like cotton candy. It's wispy pink threads of light spun together. I'd like to see that from your home some day."

"Mine wasn't that good." That was okay with Clark, though, because there were things about it that made it special. "My grandpa gave it to my dad a long time ago. And he gave it to me. That sounds really beautiful, though."

"My mom gave me mine, but it wasn't an heirloom. Yours sounds... nice." Lex sounded envious, just a little. "One day, we'll get out of here. And no one will get hurt for wanting to look outside."

"One day," Clark murmured.

But neither one of them really believed.

Five years wasn't just a long time. Five years was nearly a death sentence in a place like Lionel Luthor's creation, a place they'd dubbed 'St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Children'. They didn't often say it aloud, of course. Clark had long since lost any belief in possible privacy, or even the pretense of it. Just because the lights were off didn't mean no one could see inside. Just because you whispered didn't mean no one could hear.

Clark had been proven right about one thing, though.

He'd needed someone to trust.

He'd had to trust someone, or he would have fallen apart. Anyone would have, because those first few horrifying days had just been a sample. Before Lionel had really started the tests, the scientifically done horrors. Their tutoring was a relief and a release from that, and what the stoic 'teacher' didn't share, Lex could glean from the books to pass on to Clark.

Clark was glad that he'd trusted Lex. Because Lex was still alive, and Lex was always there, always steady. He had a good word when Clark needed it, and was willing to reminisce about things that, to Clark, still felt recent. Memories that he could almost reach out to touch, even though some were starting to haze over.

In a couple of weeks, Lex would be marking a birthday. And that he'd officially spent half of his life in there. A couple of weeks before, they'd actually gotten a new person for the first time in two years.

Her name was Kyla, and Clark was scared to trust her.

For one thing, she was older than most of the others. She'd come to them at almost eighteen, as old as Clark, and that was unusual in and of itself. For another, she hadn't admitted to being able to do anything strange despite the fact that the rest of them had all confessed to their own mutations.

Clark had very carefully refrained from telling any of the others that he wasn't even human. Lex knew, though. Lex knew everything.

And Clark knew everything about Lex, or at least most of it. It had just taken time for them both to realize that they needed to trust and confide in someone; Lex hadn't told Clark about the first years of the institution until after Byron had... died.

Been murdered. It was all the same.

Kyla hadn't yet bonded into the group, not yet, another quirk. It hadn't sunk in to her that there wasn't any leaving the place, and it made Clark a little sad even as Cyrus tried passingly to get her to open up to them.

Clark didn't think he was going to get anywhere. Not without Lex. And Lex... Well, since Byron's death, he hadn't been inclined to the gentle coaxing that had helped to reconcile Clark to the inevitable. And Clark wasn't about to make him, not when Lex hurt so much, and was so kind.

After all, they were both still in the same fresh hell Lionel had long since created for them. Suffering wasn't a subtle thing, not when there were rapes and meteor rocks and sessions with Desiree. Clark especially hated when Lionel let Desiree near Lex. That made things even worse than usual.

And Clark hated it when Lionel manipulated them into disobedience merely for a reason to hurt them. The 'field trip' a month ago had been a moment like that. Lionel had flat out told Lex to make a run for it, to leave -- but he couldn't take anyone with him. There wasn't any telling what went on in Lionel's mind.

Except that it was cruel.

"Go fish, Clark."

Green eyes darted up, looking through Lex as Clark gave him a brilliant smile. The two of them appeared more often in Lionel's smoke screen of a campaign than any others, not just because they were his favorites to torture, but also because that smile was one Clark reserved for Lex. "Sorry," he apologized. Sorry for a lot of things, especially that mess of a field trip and the faint whispered confessions about heat vision and x-ray vision that Clark had still managed to hide from Lionel by some miracle. "I was just thinking about Kyla." He nodded in the direction of the corner, shrugging a little. "I remember being that sad, and still feeling sort of..." Hopeful, neither of them said.

Like there was a chance in hell that they'd ever get out. That they could do normal things again, or... "She'll... become accustomed to living here," Lex half-tried to assure, as he watched Clark take his card. The Ians were currently monopolizing the Playstation and the TV set. All Lionel let them have were racing games or RPG sorts of things -- nothing that could possibly be linked to reality. "I am curious why she's here."

"It's driving you crazy," Clark informed him. "You're not just curious, Lex." And he knew that for certain, but he knew Lex. They shared certain traits, and curiosity was the one that probably made Lionel hate them most. It would certainly explain the attention he gave to the two of them.

Not that anyone got left alone. But while Jake could go a week without being tested by Lionel, Clark and Lex were seldom so lucky. Byron had gotten the same amount of attention as both of them had...

"We'll find out soon enough, I'm sure of it. Do you have any fours?"

"Sometimes I think you're telepathic." It was a bit of a grumble, but Clark didn't mean it, and Lex knew that. He handed over the fours just as cheerfully as possible, creating a full book for his friend.

Friend.

Clark had thought at first that it would be impossible to make friends; that no one could be like Pete or Chloe to him, that he would never admire anyone the way he admired Lana. Lex had proven him wrong, though, and all just by being himself. Lex was the best friend anybody could have, and Clark was never afraid of him.

No matter what insinuations Lionel made.

Things didn't have to hurt; Lex spent most every night that he could in Clark's room, or with Clark in his room, and he'd never hurt Clark. Lionel probably wished Lex would, just so he could say 'I told you so'.

Lex smiled as he laid down his book, and winked at Clark. "I'm starting to run out of cards..."

"That's okay. You can't get me, I'm going to win this time!" Clark declared. Clark could win if he wanted to. They both knew it. Clark never cheated with Lex, and that was something else that made them smile together.

It was the tiny details of things that made life bearable. It was a hell... but it was sometimes okay, just like Lex had told him his first day there and awake.

"Sure you will, Clark. Just like you can get past the last boss in Final Fantas--"

They heard footfalls, three sets of them coming down the hallway, and it made Lex go still slightly.

"It's okay," Clark said softly, even though it might not be. There were days when three sets of footsteps could be very bad, like the day that Byron had 'died'. There were others that weren't quite so bad, and a quick dart of x-ray vision seemed to say that it would be one of those.

After all. Lionel only brought Julian with him on the good days.

There was another man with him, another man in a suit that Clark didn't recognize. Maybe a new teacher; he didn't look as mean and callous as the one they had.

"I'm sure," Lex murmured, even as he twisted in his chair to look over towards the doorway in anticipation.

The first one they saw was Lionel, but when Lex saw Julian's curly red hair behind their father, he relaxed almost visibly, making Clark's mouth stretch into that grin helplessly. The man who came in behind them was only of the faintest interest after that because Lex knew he wasn't something harmful.

"Hi, Lex," Julian said a little shyly, waving at his brother.

"Hello, Julian -- it's been a couple of months since I last saw you -- you're starting to get really big!" Lex shifted off of his chair to properly greet Lionel and his guest, but his smile was for Julian. He had a shine to his little brother, a different sort of attention from the type he gave Clark.

"Alexander, you're in fine spirits today." Lionel's smile was too nice seeming, which was an immediate tip-off for Clark that something was up. "Mr. Wayne, I'd like for you to meet Alexander, my oldest son."

"Hello, Alexander. It's very nice to meet you." The man was tall, dark-eyed, but he had a pleasant enough smile, and large hands. One reached out to Lex in an offering, one that Lex took. Clark relaxed a little, smiling at Julian, too.

"Hey, Julian," he whispered quietly, rearranging their cards carefully so they didn't seem quite so messy. "Not a school day for you, huh?"

"Dad wanted me to come and see Alexander and the rest of you," Julian said very solemnly. His eyes, like Lex's, were the clean color of grey-blue sky, and they made Clark desperately sad.

He was lucky. He was out there, he was what... what Lex could have been, what he had been. It made Clark hope that when Julian got a little older, he didn't turn into a freak, too. He was a Good Kid.

"It's nice to meet you, too, sir -- we were just wrapping up a game of cards. Would you like to join us...?" Lex let go of the man's hand, obviously wanting more to give his attention to Clark and Julian.

"No, Alexander -- Mr. Wayne is here to talk to all of you about what improvements you'd like to see made to the facility."

"Oh." Oh. It was the only answer any of them could give, because it wasn't the safest ground on which to walk. Clark could see the nervousness in the faint stretch of Lex's spine as he stood taller, though nobody else probably could. He let his own eyes dart down to the cards quietly, since that was probably the best thing to do.

"Things are pretty nice here," Clark said, a rote answer for lack of any others. "We study and we're treated well and there's lots to keep us occupied."

"I see." Mr. Wayne's voice was a warm rumble as he slipped his hands in his pockets. His eyes scraped the room once, as if scathing it for some flaw, and they skirted over every person in there, not lingering on any one in particular. "Why don't you think about it while I speak with Mr. Luthor about the scientific aspects of what he does here? Surely there must be something that you all personally would like to have here."

"Maybe a computer...?" But it was too risky, and Lex knew that even when he suggested it. Even if they did get one, it wouldn't have internet.

"We like games," Clark explained a little. Maybe if they were lucky and they did get one, it would at least have maps, and maybe...

But that was a pipe dream, even the faint hopes of encyclopedias long since banished. "And it would help for writing papers and things like that.

"That certainly sounds reasonable," Mr. Wayne told them. "Why don't you confer with everyone else. Make a list, and I'll look over it, all right? Mr. Luthor, why don't we continue our conversation in private?" Which was good, because maybe then Julian would stop standing off to the side looking lost yet oddly understanding of what was going on.

"Of course, Mr. Wayne. We'll do just that," Clark promised. "Julian? You want to come with us while we talk to everybody? We'll make sure everything is okay, Mr. Luthor."

"I'd like to go, Dad," Julian answered faintly, looking up to his father for approval.

"He'll be all right," Lex promised. "I'll stay right by him when we go to the other wing, too..."

"All right, boys. Julian, have fun with your brother, all right?" For a moment, Clark saw a threat in Lionel's eyes, a threat that Julian had better have fun with them. And then it was gone, and that fake solicitous smile was plastered on his face while he turned to Mr. Wayne. "I'll take you back towards where the labs are, now..."

"Goodbye, Mr. Wayne," Clark said quietly, nodding to the man as he left. There was something a little strange about him, but then, he was with Lionel. They'd probably see him again, one way or another. A little shudder trickled through him at the thought. "Hey, Julian. You want to go play? We'll make Ian let you have the PlayStation if you want..."

"No," Julian decided firmly, glancing to be sure that Lionel was gone. "Can I just play cards with you and Alexander? I'd like that."

Lex's smile grew a little, and he almost immediately said, "Sure. Let me go get you a chair. Clark, why don't you deal him in? We're playing go-fish today."

That seemed enough for Julian, because he sat down in Lex's chair to wait, and watched as Clark joined all of the cards together. In front of Julian, it was no big deal to do things at Clark-speed, because it fascinated the boy and made him smile. Clark was pretty sure that seeing Lex's talent would just upset him.

"All dealt!" Julian announced excitedly, reaching for his seven card hand. "That's so neat, Clark!"

And Lex smirked a little as he sat down in the chair he'd grabbed for Julian, reaching for his own hand. "Isn't it? He's come a long way since his spilling cards all over the room days."

"Hey! I only did that the first few times!" Clark protested, but it made Julian laugh and look at them both with a smile that Clark knew Lex enjoyed. "So. Since I dealt, and you're to my right, you go first, Julian."

He studied his hand so seriously for a moment, while Lex rearranged cards in his own hand. "Uhm. Do you have any sevens, Lex?"

"Go fish," Lex smiled back at Julian. "Hey, what've you been learning lately in school? You're still at Excelsior, aren't you?"

"Yes, Alexander. I've been learning about Geometry, and we've been studying recent political developments in the world today." His voice dropped to a whisper. "We've been at war in Iraq."

"How long?" Clark whispered back, looking to Lex to ask one of them for cards and cover their secondary conversation.

"Clark, do you have any Jacks?" Those little tidbits of information were crucial, yet oddly surreal for both of them. They'd probably never get news first hand, but Julian was a good kid, and second hand was better than nothing.

"Lex cheats," Clark confided to Julian, making the boy give a little laugh as he handed over his cards to Lex.

"Alexander is a Luthor," Julian explained. "He's supposed to cheat. Father says so." Not that it made either of them too happy from the look in Julian's eyes. "There's an election coming soon. The Democrats are having primaries. Dad doesn't like any of them."

"Why not?" Lex looked a little wistful as he put together his book of cards, and laid them down to one side. "I remember watching the elections when I was your age. They were always great."

"I like listening to them," Julian agreed, waiting for Lex to make another request. "But I think Dad is making more money with the Republicans."

"Ask for something, Lex," Clark prompted, not wanting to get caught. He couldn't be hurt very much, but the meteor rocks were horrible, and Lex being hurt was even worse.

"That almost figures... Okay, Clark, do you have any... tens?"

"Your brother is a vicious card shark," the dark-haired teenager informed, "but this time? He's SO in trouble. Go fish, Lex," he beamed happily, making Julian laugh.

Julian reached up and rubbed the back of his head, tangling his red curls a little more. "You guys are fun."

"Mm." Lex fished, and from his expression, didn't fish what he'd wanted. "Hey, when we finish this hand and go to ask everyone if they want anything, do you want to go by my room? Clark picked up some glow in the dark stickers that we put on my ceiling when we last went out. They look nice."

"You'll like them," Clark promised. "We had a map of the stars, so we put them up sort of like a galaxy." They'd even decided that one of them was Clark's star, and they spent a lot of time whispering about it at night. Never mind that Lionel probably heard them. They weren't talking about anything harmful.

Julian nodded. "Sure. Can I help ask? I don't want to talk to Ian, though." Ian had been indirectly responsible for Tina's death, and Julian had liked Tina, especially when he'd been seven or eight. It hadn't been as difficult for him as Byron's death had been for Lex, but it had made him wary of Ian.

"Ian just wants more games," Lex said sagely before he leaned a little to call over to the boys that were sitting by the PlayStation. "Isn't that right, Ian? You want some new games to play?"

"Yeah," Ian agreed. "Something that's not a racing game. Maybe a fighting game or something, like the old Mortal Kombat ones. You remember those, right?"

"Sure," Clark agreed. "I liked 'em better without the codes. Blood makes me queasy," he whispered to Julian.

"Me, too. I cut my arm in fencing last week and passed out," Julian whispered back. Lex just winced a little, and shook his head.

"See, now we already have Ian's answer."

"We'll just have to ask a few others," Clark promised. "Cyrus is upstairs right now, and so are Jeremy and Jodie. We can go over to the aquarium to talk to the rest and we'll be all done."

Julian glanced over at Ian and then nodded slowly. "Okay. That seems good."

"If we want, we can leave our hands here and come back to it. They'll still be here when we get back," Lex promised. There was no reason for them to not be. Everything there was communal, and that meant that it you trashed it, you lost the ability to use it yourself.

"Please?" Julian asked. "I really want to see your ceiling, Lex. I asked Dad if I could send better blankets for you. I know how cold you get."

That was half of the reason that Clark and Lex were rarely found without one another; Clark threw off enough body heat in his sleep to keep Lex warm. Enough body heat to let Lex sleep. But even if they did get warmer blankets, Lionel would probably notch the temperature of the place down to keep them unhappy. And there was no way they could put that on the list they were making.

"That's really nice of you to remember, Julian," Lex praised as he stood up and pushed his chair under the table. "Come on."

"And, hey, we'll show you the new fish," Clark promised. "You'll love them. I promise. They'll make Lex's ceiling look boring."

"Nothing could make Alexander boring," Julian told them both solemnly. "Nothing, ever."

No matter what the strange man was discussing with Lionel, Julian being there made it a good day. Because at least until Lionel left with him, or his nanny came to pick him up, the institute felt something like a safe place.

Maybe it even was.

Clark really hoped that Mr. Wayne wasn't going to be another of the bad men.

"So, Mr. Luthor. You promised me hard data so that I could consider my contribution to your little project," Bruce Wayne said smoothly, looking at him directly. Mr. Wayne was well known for philanthropic works, but Lionel was hoping that he'd view this particular project in a slightly different vein.

A scientific investment. An expansion forwards in the world. "And hard data I can provide you, Mr. Wayne -- what sort do you prefer?"

"Extensive," Bruce said very seriously. "Not only do I have an interest in the comfort of your subjects -- which I admit, appears to be excellent -- but I'm also interested in the experiments you choose to effect and what you hope to accomplish. The education levels of all of the children are a curiosity, as well."

"Their educations are the best that can be managed," Lionel assured quickly, because the man was indeed a philanthropist foremost. But that didn't stop him from walking towards his experimentation area with the man. "Although they're not all entirely minors any longer, and there is very little that can substitute for a proper college education."

"Of course. While it's certainly possible to test for a GED and claim home-schooling, it's more difficult to explain that you have the equivalent of a college education. I seem to remember hearing that Alexander in particular was very bright; but I'm an alumni of Excelsior, myself," Bruce admitted. "Intelligence seems to run in the Luthor family. I've also heard that your younger son is of a near genius intellect."

"And attending Excelsior," Lionel confirmed. "It... it's such a shame that Alexander never really pulled together again after his mother's death. I had high hopes that by now he'd be able to set out on his own..."

"Of course. It's a shame when such a horrible experience changes a young man." Bruce Wayne was certainly the person to know about that, though Lionel hadn't made any such intimation. "But about the scientific procedures..."

"Secondary to making sure they're all cared for. They... all have a common thread that only came out during a routine physical checkup." Lionel let that dangle as he passed by the examination room with the straps, chains and stirrups.

In a man of greater moral fiber, there would have been more protests, surely. "I see that some of them aren't so interested in their checkups," Bruce said easily.

"Occasionally there's a fit of violence in one of them, and they need to be restrained," Lionel excused with an easy smile. Two doors down, Lionel paused and pulled a key ring from his pocket, sorting through to open that door. "I believe that their mental problems stem from coping with this slight but significant physical difference they all have."

"I understand that the physical differences are individual to each of the children here. No two seem to have the same sort of disorder?" Bruce asked. He seemed to kno